#// thank u to everyone who shares my vision and still follows me even after giving favouritism to the worst merc in both teams yippee <3333

[cheebuss]

no you're right for that. blu spy is a wet napkin who coughs so pathetically and i carry him around in my wallet

YOU JUST GET ME FR…. he has 20% of the energy of an average human and it splits exactly 50/50 into either being cunty or coughing and spluttering. After that he has to go lay down for 3-4 business days

animal that was rescued and became domesticated and can never be re-released behaviour 🙄💙

[alexisqueen-137]

How could I (D.M x Reader)

Hey guys, so this is my first fic that I am posting, I really hope you enjoy this, also, requests open! feedback appreciated whether good or bad, and i apologize if some bit’s in the story are a wee bit cringy... and btw the angst will be much more in the next parts! (btw I don’t write smut AT ALL)

warnings: angst, reader almost get’s raped, mentions of self-harm, mentions of abuse

Word count: 1k+

summary: Pansy uses the unforgivable torture curse on y/n, and after that y/n changes turning into a total badass, catching draco’s eye even more than before...fluff if u squint

The leaves on the withering grass indicated that finally, most finally, Autumn had come once more on the beautiful castle.

Students rushed from classes to see the wonderful sight awaiting them at the meadow. The biting breeze didn’t change their stubborn minds, infact, it most probably encouraged them to sit around the black lake, watching the giant squid with far-away looks in their eyes and pumpkin juice in their hands. 

However, probably the only soul still inside of the towering castle walls was Y/N L/N. The crumpling, aching feeling inside of your chest was only growing and though you wished to let it all out, you weren't able to. Your burning tears were held inside of you too  scared to fall and be for once free. 

Staggering to the dungeons, y/n couldn’t breathe normally or walk properly because of the pain that wracked her body even until now.

And finally have you reached your dorm, you shut the door and made sure no one was there, only to fall on your knees and let all the tears you had been holding slip, slip onto your forest green carpet and dampen it.

It was a habit, a habit of yours to cry as silently as possible, because you were still haunted by your memories as a child being beaten up by your drunken father.

All the walls that you had built inside of you were now by this point fragile; cracking; falling apart...

y/n was not a foolish sensitive girl, oh you were much more. You were so strong to have gone through all of the trials and mishaps that would have destroyed most people. Even though, it still broke you...You were a human being too, in the end. These things you went through were the reason you made those thin scars on your arms and thighs with the silver knife you inherited...it soothes you, this act. It reminds you that you are a normal person who can still feel pain.

However, what happened to you this time must be the end of it all.

It all started when you entered your potions class which the Slytherins (such as yourself) shared with the Gryffindors. You were a bit late, which was unusual since you were one of the best students in your year. Always after Hermione Granger and before Draco Malfoy. Oh how you loathed him. He made your life hell and well...you didn’t need much of a reason to hate him.

you walked over to your seat next to Blaise Zabini, who was your best friend, since he was one of the only who didn’t mind you were a half-blood Slytherin. Harry Potter and Ron Weasley glared at you because they hate all Slytherins, albeit you never did anything to them...

you ignored them, half annoyed, half overlooking the whole situation. Professor Slughorn started explaining the properties of a well-made draught of living death as you took notes. Then Slughorn said something that caught everyone’s complete attention; he was giving away a small vial of liquid luck to whoever made the best living death potion.

Everyone started working, and you started working too, extra hard, because you reallyyyyyy needed that liquid luck. For a reason you would never admit to anyone but yourself. you wanted to give it to- yes, believe it or not- Malfoy. Not because you  liked him or something, no you hated him, it was just that he kept bragging to the Slytherins how the Dark Lord gave him a job and he was chosen for blah blah blah...And you couldn’t really let him kill himself, right?

You side glanced at Potter to see how he was doing, only to see that instead of cutting up his Sopophorous bean, he was crushing it, getting much more juice than you, you followed his lead and crushed your bean with the back of your silver knife watching the liquid ooze out of it’s shiny shell...

*after class*

 you put the golden liquid in your pocket feeling quite happy with yourself, you and Potter had made equivalently perfect draughts, earning the both of you felix felicis. 

Just as you were heading to your next class, you bumped into (rather unfortunately), no other than Pansy Parkinson, the pug-faced slut. Apperently, she made it her all time mission to annoy the fuck out of Y/N.

“Watch where your going, Bitch” She retorted. You huffed. She continued, “I don’t think you can though, not with that ugly hair covering your filthy face!”

She cackled like the whole thing was so funny. You rolled your eyes, and then cleared your throught; “Bugger off, Parkinson, I don’t need you all in my face like spot cream or something, not that you would know of it, looks like you’ve never used it your entire life!” you smirked, not caring about the consequences this would bring.

Pansy’s eyes flared with anger, she said: “Think we’re so smart, don’t we? Forgot that your superiors (she said that while gesturing at herself) could handle you without much looking at your hideous face! You are sooo unbearable! First, you steal my Dracey from me (at these words you frowned, not knowing what she meant), and now you’re acting all snotty in my face, I think, it’s time for me to TEACH.YOU.A.LESSON! (she practically screeched those words) ughhhhhh I hate you so much, L/N, I DON’T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT YOU, YOU KNOW SO, crucio!”  You gasped and before you could react an invisible force squeezed your bones and burned your skin, tugged on your flesh and stabbed you dozens of times at once; until you were screaming and wailing on the ground, writhing in agony, unable to do anything to that horrible skank, all until your vision went black and yout hit the floor, unconscious…

 *after you woke up*

 Unsure for how long you were out, you staggered up, and grimaced form the pain. All you knew that miss ruthless Pansy left you alone in the dark, cold empty hallway. All you knew was that the tears you were holding would burst soon if you don’t hurry to your dorm.

 *present*

 And now, after you had cried your heart out, you realized you didn’t just cry because of the physical pain, but from the mere thought of not being able to stand up to yourself and shoot back at the motherfucking bitch- Oh, how you promised yourself you would change that day. How you would be a new woman with a much bigger attitude, how you would take care of yourself.

 And that’s just what you did.

 *Two months later*

 You had died your hair black from the top, and silver from the bottom, keeping it long, and you always made sure your hair was always wavy, you kept worn down all the time, and it framed your face perfectly.

  Instead of the pants you used to wear, now you always wore a skirt underneath your robes, with black tights and short heels, not forgetting to add a dash of makeup. Not only have you changed your looks, but your attitude aswell. Anyone disrespects you, oh they will pay for it. Admittedly, you had to thank Parkinson for changing you like this, but you thought better than to.

You were top of your year and you helped people whenever they want. You were kind, but one hell of a badass.

However, you still thought about the day Parkinson cursed you, what had she said, I had stolen Draco from her? You didn’t understand that. You and Draco had no romantic relationship. Albeit, when you started to change, he found it better for him to be your friend. (Blaise couldn’t shut up about it, he was so relieved that both his best friends weren’t enemies anymore) After getting to know him better, you came to the conclusion that Draco wasn’t as bad as he seemed…not at all.

Yet, you still hadn’t given him the vial of liquid luck, afraid he might reject it from you.

*one day*

You took a bite from your green apple as you made your way to class, you would be 10 minutes early if you went now, but, since you had nothing else to do, you made your way into the empty hallway leading to the transfiguration classroom. you had this weird feeling that someone was watching you though...

As you were walking someone called “Hi honey”, you didn’t turn around, he was probably calling for someone else. “L/N, sweetie!” you froze. You turned around and looked at the boy behind you. “what did you just call me?” “You know what I said y/n. The boy got dangerously closer and you realized it was Theodore Nott, Slytherin. 

He came forward even closer, pushing you into a broom closet. your heart pace was by now going so fast you were sure it was about to jump out of your chest. “I know you check me out when you see me, darling. Why don’t I give you what you’ve been wanting for a long time?” “g-get off of me” was all you managed. He came closer and trailed kisses on your neck, and you yelped. And maybe, just maybe, if you hadn’t screamed, and then who knows what would have happened.

From outside, someone yelled “WHOEVER IS IN THAT CLOSET LEAVE Y/N RIGHT NOW BEFORE I HEX YOU INTO OBLIVION!” You recognized the voice as Draco’s. you couldn’t help but sigh in relief when Nott let go of you in a hurry and you watched as he scrambled out. After he went and got hit with a couple of good spells,  Draco rushed to you and got you out of the closet. Once he touched you you felt all the stress leave you, and you thanked god he came to save you.

“Are you okay? did anything happen to you? did that motherfucker hurt you? answer me, y/n!” without realizing, you’ve been holding a shaky breath. and at his questions, you covered your face with your hands and burst into tears. “H-he almost r-raped m-me..” 

“It’s okay, don’t worry, I’m here for you” he cooed. And gently ever so gently, he pulled you into his grasp, tightly wrapping his hands around you. You stiffened, but then relaxed saying: “It’s been so long since someone hugged me...I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be held...”

(part 2 coming soon!)

[hcywards]

lips — kiara carrera

summary: in which kiara didn’t just want to be y/n’s friend, she wanted to kiss her lips.

yet again listening to girl in red, so based off of “i wanna be your girlfriend”

words: 1.2k

t/w: mentions of sex, underage drinking, mentions of drugs

request: this was a request from anon!

“could u write more kiara stuff pls I love it”

note: i love kiara so much you don’t understand,,, she is so cute. this one is slightly less angsty than the last bc that hurt to write and i’m pretty sure i started crying at some point. but uhh,, tysm for requesting!! it really means a lot to me. 

     The party was fine, as it always was. In fact, it could’ve been better than fine — it was inside a Kook house, so it was hot, and the music was loud and reached every corner of every room, and there was service, and the Christmas decorations actually lit up. It could’ve been better than fine, but it wasn’t, because Kiara could see Y/N laughing, talking and dancing with a Kook boy who was all over her, and she couldn’t help but wish she was the Kook boy, as she did with every boy who wasn’t Y/N’s friend, and instead head-over-heels for her.

     But she couldn’t help but have that little bit of relief in her system, either from the beer she was sipping or the knowledge that there was no way Y/N would ever go home with him, because she never went home with any of the boys who wanted to spend the night with her. Of course, Kiara didn’t understand why, but that wasn’t exactly important. What was important was that she’d never have to deal with seeing hickeys over Y/N’s neck, and fingerprints on her hips and messy post-sex hair like the girls who fawned over JJ did. 

     Y/N’s eyes reached Kiara’s then, and the girl gave her an oblivious grin as the boy behind her ground against her. Kiara thought she might be sick, if she were honest, but she managed to give her best friend a grin back, wishing their eyes shared the same love.

     John B stepped up beside her, eyes following Kiara’s lovelorn gaze. Kiara didn’t bother to look away — it wasn’t as if everyone other than Y/N didn’t know about her feelings, after all.

     He gave her a sympathetic smile that she caught on the edge of her vision, and she sighed.

     “I don’t even want her to like me back anymore, I just want her to not do that, you know?” Kiara gestured with her solo cup toward Y/N and the boy, still dancing, with no idea of how the girl felt, stood on the sidelines and watching.

     John B nodded, looking away from her and towards the pair. “Yeah, I know.”

     That was all their conversation was. They didn’t need to say any more, because there was nothing left to say as they watched the two. JJ was somewhere in another part of the house, a girl probably pinned underneath him. Kiara grimaced at the thought, but, subconsciously, she was grateful for her thoughts not being of Y/N for once. Pope hadn’t come, too busy studying for a test he had coming up, which meant that the first Christmas party of the year was far different from all of the other Christmas parties they’d been to.

     Typically, the first party of December was spent just between them — there would be no random hook ups, no boyfriends and no girlfriends. They were Kiara’s favourite parties, because, for once, she would have all of her friends with her at whichever party they were spending the night at, and there would be no one to get in between them. They’d be just friends, and at no time would Kiara be feeling this hurt over Y/N dancing with another guy, because the only people she’d be able to dance with that night would be her best friends. Those parties were the best nights of her life, because nothing topped laughing and dancing with your friends like that.

     Y/N eventually pulled away from the guy, running over to join her friends and taking the beer from Kiara’s hands happily, drinking some before passing it back.

     Kiara studied her as she did, wanting to remember exactly how she looked at that moment. Maybe this Y/N, then, would be present in her dreams — maybe, for once, Kiara would be the one dancing with her.

     Y/N was sweaty, with frizzy hair and a few droplets of beer down her shirt, but she was still stunning. A wide smile graced her features, and she seemed to be wide awake despite the late hour of the night — or, rather, early hour of the morning. Kiara took another swig of beer when the sudden, unwanted thought that maybe it was the boy who was making her so happy, so awake, came to mind. She could taste Y/N’s flavoured chapstick on it, and as she was drinking, she realised that that was probably what kissing her would taste like — beer and chapstick.

     John B glanced over at the clock on the wall, and grimaced. “Guys, it’s nearly five in the morning. We should probably head back before the Kooks kick us out.”

     Kiara nodded in agreement, grateful not to have to spent another second watching Y/N dance with the boy, and they began weaving back out of the house. Y/N text JJ to tell them they’d left, because none of them wanted to go look for him and potentially find him with a girl, and they began walking their separate ways.

     Y/N and Kiara lived on the same side of OBX, so they walked home together, Kiara still thinking about how she now knew what kissing her would taste like and Y/N not thinking much, just skipping down the middle of the empty road like a carefree child. Kiara shivered in the cold night sky, shoving her hands into her pockets to keep warm. She’d given Y/N her jacket earlier in the night, because she’d forgotten to bring one, and, despite the freezing cold, Kiara couldn’t bring herself to regret doing so. After all, Y/N looked incredible in her clothes, and she wished the other girl would wear her clothes all the time.

     They eventually reached Y/N’s place, and she stood by the door as Kiara stood opposite her.

     “Thank you for walking me home,” Y/N murmured. Kiara felt her breath fan across her face from their close proximity, and she shuddered — this time, though, not from the cold.

     Kiara swallowed, regaining her composure despite letting her eyes flicker down to Y/N’s lips, and responded, “Of course.”

     Suddenly, there was no space between them, and Y/N’s hands were getting lost in Kiara’s hair as she tried to pull her closer. The kiss was sweet and soft, and Kiara noticed that not only did Y/N’s lips taste like chapstick and beer, but also mint, and weed, and she could smell the sea salt laced on the girl’s skin, as well as the coconut shampoo she’d undoubtedly stolen from Kiara. Her eyes were squeezed shut as she tried to commit this all to memory, however the pessimistic thought that this was probably all a dream still hovered in the back of her mind.

     She didn’t care, though, because this kiss felt like electricity, and like every moment before had just been leading up to now, and like dancing in the rain at midnight, and like bonfires on the beach with your best friend, and like so many other, countless things, and she wanted to stay in this moment for forever, even though Y/N might just think it was a drunken mistake, or it might not be real. It felt real then, and, really, that was all that mattered.

     They only pulled away when they ran out of breath, however Y/N’s hands never left Kiara’s hair as she whispered out: “I don’t want to just be your friend.”

     “I want to kiss you again,” Kiara responded, and that was all it took for their lips to be on each other’s again, with nothing but the crickets and the moon to watch.

taglist! there is a form in my description if you would like to be added!

@thorsangel @dpaccione @ceruleanjj @thatsonobx @spilledtee @supremestarkey @babypogue @sadcupofcoffee

[azbagans]

Stuck With You

Pairing: Zak Bagans x Reader

Summary: Stuck in quarantine with Zak is slowly driving you both insane, but a minor argument brings things back into perspective. (Inspired heavily by “Stuck with U” By Ariana Grande & Justin Bieber.)

Warnings: None (basically fluff central with minor hints of angst.)

Lately you and Zak had been bumping heads, and honestly you couldn’t pin point why. Problems were a rare occurrence in your relationship, and in the case you were to argue it would be because you were upset at how careless he could be when taunting spirits or whatever it might have been. You only argued because sometimes he wouldn’t even tell you about it, so you’d find out when you watched the episode air, which was the frustrating part. 

However, that wasn’t the case this time, because he had to postpone any planned investigation for the time being since the coronavirus forced states to lockdown, urge citizens to stay home, and social distance. Truly, the first few weeks weren’t all that bad. You both had missed spending time together, so you both enjoyed spending time together. Learning new meals to cook, having him assist any baking you wanted to try, cuddling up and watching movies and TV shows, or playing with Gracie out in the backyard. This was the soft domestic side you missed Zak showing, and it was comforting for you both. 

Of course Zak was often FaceTiming Aaron, Billy, and Jay as they did their best to work from home either on editing old footage or planning for future renovations for Zak’s Haunted Museum. Honestly, sometimes they were simply just joking around with each other as they talked about everything and nothing all at once. 

“Babe, you forgot to refill Gracie’s bowl.” You sighed as you refilled both Gracie’s water bowl and food bowl while you were at it. He was recently deep into who knew what, typing away on his laptop, calling the crew, and obliviously to you some producers too. “I’m sorry y/n, I’m a bit busy.” Zak sighed from the living room, where he sat with his laptop being used to arrange certain things, as well as his cellphone pressed to his ear thanks to his shoulder. 

You had noticed he stopped putting calls on speaker, and spoke softer when you were around, which grew to annoy you. Of course you trusted him, the annoying part was that he clearly didn’t trust you. A soft sigh left your lips as you rolled your eyes and entered the kitchen, making sure all the dirty dishes were around, if not in the sink, before starting to wash the dishes. How there was such a pile of dirty dishes in a household of two was absolutely beyond you. If you didn’t know any better, you’d even suggest a spirit had been helping make the mess. 

The sound of your phone ringing drew you from your thoughts, sighing as you dried one hand quickly to pick up the phone. Using your shoulder to keep the phone in place as you returned to washing the dishes. “Hello?” You responded, setting a now clean plate on the dish rack. “Hello y/n, I hope I didn’t call at a bad time.” Nancy’s voice came through, smiling at the sound of Zak’s mother’s voice. 

“No! Not at all Nancy, just washing a few dishes. How are you doing?” You responded softly as your hands became a soapy mess. “I’m doing just fine honey, thank you. I hope being locked up hasn’t caused Gracie a problem,” Nancy responded with a soft laugh. “No, not at all! We play with her in the backyard often, she still enjoys the outdoors at least.” You laughed, relaxing slightly at the news that she was indeed healthy and well. 

Meanwhile, Zak had been typing away on his laptop to put together a rough draft for their investigation. “No, that won’t be necessary. We’ll handle all the filming. The security cameras will help us make sure we get absolutely everything, so we won’t need anyone else but us four.” Zak finalized with their producer. He, Aaron, Jay, and Billy had agreed to quarantine themselves within his haunted museum for two weeks. It took them some convincing before Zak was able to get everyone on board with the investigation. Zak had grown restless, and he couldn’t just stay home. 

Of course the investigator loved being home with y/n and Gracie, it was relaxing and peaceful, definitely something he had needed. However, he was now ready to get back into work mode, which was challenging considering their ‘stay at home’ order had just been made longer. He was yet to tell y/n, not that he meant to hide it from her, but they had enough with their petty arguments lately. Surely, this would only be the cherry on top.

“So what can I do for you, Nancy?” You asked with a small smile as you were drying your hands, having finished washing the dishes during your small talk. “Well, I was hoping to get in touch with Zak? He hasn’t been answering my calls and I had some questions for the new investigation.” Nancy responded, you grew confused as you let Gracie outside, following her into the backyard. “I’m sorry, he’s been rather busy on the phone lately. He’s on the phone as we speak.” You explained, a small frown on your face as you sat down on the grass. “New investigation?” You questioned.

“Ah, I figured. I just wanted to check in and make sure things were sorted for their new quarantine location. I can’t believe they are going to stay in the museum for the next two weeks.” Nancy sighed, oblivious to the fact that her son hadn’t told you yet. “But anyway, please have him call me as soon as he can? It was nice talking to you, y/n.” Nancy bedded her goodbye. “Of course Nancy, take care.” You responded, hanging up shortly after. 

Zak was going to stay at the museum? You weren’t sure what bothered you the most. The fact that Zak hadn’t even told you yet, the fact that none of the boys had told you either, or how stupid that idea even was. You knew the paranormal was Zak’s life, and you respected that, but you worried for him endlessly. He tended to be a little too ambitious when taunting, or exploring dangerous grounds with demonic or poltergeist activity. “Hey, my favorite girls are hanging out without me?” You heard Zak approach you, as you were torn from your thoughts while watching Gracie bark and chase after a squirrel. 

“Hard to tell,” you muttered as you crossed your arms over your chest. Zak sighed as he took a seat beside you, the outdoor scene of the backyard would have been peaceful and relaxing, had it not been for the tension between the pair. “Babe, we can’t go on this way.” Zak frowned as he glanced your way, though you hadn’t met his gaze. “I agree. You know, I was wondering what I did to make you avoid me so much. When were you going to tell me?” You responded, your voice a bit hoarse as you fought back a few tears. 

Zak wasn’t sure how you’d found out, but he figured it hadn’t mattered much. A sigh leaving his lips as he watched you with a soft gaze, “I’m sorry y/n. Honestly I wasn’t sure the others would even agree, and working with production to approve has been a nightmare. I didn’t want to spark another argument in case it wasn’t even approved.” Zak explained, knowing he should have told her sooner. Zak knew you’d be worried and upset, angry even, but he wasn’t expecting your response at all.

“I don’t get it.. Do you not want to be around me anymore? Am I not making you happy? I just don’t.. understand..” You frowned as your eyes began to water, blurring your vision slightly. “What? No! Where did you even get that from?” Zak frowned as he gently reached for your hands, taking them into his. This wasn’t at all the response he had imagined, and some how, it hurt ten times worse. Seeing you cry was something he never wanted to see. 

“Why else would you want to lock yourself in your museum? For two weeks? Surrounded by the most deadliest and cursed objects on Earth, Zak why are you doing this?!” You asked, the hurt in your voice audible as some tears slid down your cheeks, doing your best to blink away any others. “Y/n, sweetheart…” Zak sighed as he gently let your hands go, to instead cup your face gently, his thumbs wiping your tears away. “I’m so sorry, that’s not at all why we decided to do this. I figured it would give us something to do and considering the fights we’ve been having, it would give you some space. I know I haven’t been the best boyfriend lately,” Zak explained with a frown on his face as he gazed into your eyes. “But I love you, y/n. I love being around you, even when you run that smart pretty mouth of yours.” Zak reassured with a small smile, before pressing a soft yet sweet kiss to your lips. 

The tension slowly began to ease away, as you relaxed under his touch, kissing back. The contact being something you had missed the last few days after petty disputes. “I love you too Zak. I’m sorry I’ve been so petty lately.” You sighed softly before pouting, “What on Earth am I supposed to do without you the next two weeks?” You selfishly asked, though of course you were only teasing. 

“Don’t worry babe, you’re stuck with me the rest of this quarantine after that. Whether you want to be or not,” He joked towards the end, a soft laugh leaving your lips as he wrapped his arms around you. He brought you into his chest as you now sat on his lap, your head resting on his shoulder. 

“I’m stuck with you, Bagans. Go ahead and drive me insane, its just you and me.” You responded with a small smile, an arm around his neck as you leaned upward a bit and pressing a soft kiss to his lips, Gracie soon running onto your lap as you both shared a laugh. 

There’s no where else you’d rather be.

[carnalpleasure]

hey omg thank you to everyone that read my fic!!! y’all are so sweet and encouraging i decided to keep going<3 i seriously love all of u

i’ll probably post the second half, “The day after” later tonight!! it gets better soon i promise we’re getting to the fluff n stuff 🥰

The day before..

Michael had been attending Hawthorne for barely over a month when he was once again summoned by the Warlock Council.

Baldwin, Behold, John Henry, and Grand Chancellor Ariel Augustus himself sat waiting at their respective seats along the long wooden table that divided the room in half. Countless rows of novels and grimoires lined the shelves behind them, opposite a warm crackling fireplace that lit up the windowless room.

The halls were dead silent, aside from the click of Michael’s heels on the marble tile as he entered through the corridor and approached the four master warlocks. He came to a stop just before the table and gave a slight nod, folding his hands behind his back. “Gentlemen.” His tone sounded bored as he greeted them. He was expecting them to administer another pre-test for the seven wonders. Michael, find the book. Michael, make it snow. Michael, Michael, Michael. As much as he loved feeling superior over them and being praised for his power, he hated being treated like a trophy boy.

“Michael! So good of you to join us,” Ariel spoke with his usual upbeat enthusiasm. He stood up from the table and walked around to Michael, putting his hand on his shoulder and giving his collar a firm squeeze. His face beaming with pride like it always did when he looked at his Boy Wonder.

“What is it today, Ariel? You want me to make your dick bigger or something? Make it rain wine?” Michael was clearly not in the mood today. The other warlocks were shocked by his blatant sarcasm but Ariel was unfazed. He even chuckled.

“Michael, as you know, we have been at war with the witches for some time. It has been a long, dark era for us, living under the shadow of those bitch Supremes for centuries, waiting for the Alpha to rise. That is, until you came along Michael, and you gave us back our hope, our pride, and our glory.”

Michael was losing his patience and his interest. Did Ariel always need to make a speech? I mean does he write this shit down beforehand?

Ariel continued, “But if we really want to take down those witches, we’re going to need all the help we can get.” Ariel motioned with his hand and John Henry opened his laptop, turning it around for Michael to see. A video of a boy in a small office room started to play. He was being evaluated by a psychologist. They asked him all kinds of questions about the monsters in his books, each time waiting for an answer he wasn’t going to give. Then they would pause to scribble something down on a little notepad before asking him the next redundant question.

After a while of getting no response, the doctor started to get impatient and agitated. “They aren’t real, Richard. We’ve been through this. They can’t harm you, just like they didn’t cut your friend, Jonah. He did that to himself, remember?,” the male voice spoke from behind the camera.

The boy on the screen said nothing but his expression said everything. His brows furrowed together, jaw clenched, peering through his eyes with such intensity, such hate that what happened next couldn’t possibly have been just a coincidence.

The man behind the camera suddenly went quiet except for a faint, choking sound. His voice straining as he gasped for his few last breaths. Richard didn’t move a muscle. His hands still folded in his lap, body slouched back in his chair. But his eyes stayed focused on what was happening behind the camera. Even when the first nurse entered the room, shrieking in horror at the sight of the doctor sat up in his chair with his eyes swelling up, blood dripping from his eyes, ears, nose and mouth. He had been choked so tightly it left lacerations on his neck.. and Richard still didn’t move.

A couple other nurses stumbled in after hearing the scream, and rushed to try to help the dead man. Followed by two large men who grabbed Richard by each arm, pulling him aggressively out of the room. And the video on the screen went black.

Michael looked around the room at all the men’s faces. John Henry looked sympathetic. Behold looked alarmed yet hesitant. Baldwin looked like he was seeing dollar signs. And the look on Ariel’s face was the same look he’d given Michael the day he freed him from the jail cell. The kind of look a mad scientist has when seeing his creation come to life for the first time.

“Michael,” Ariel spoke, “this boy has a gift. He sees things, creatures that most others only dream of in their worst nightmares. I believe he has a gift much like Miss Cordelia’s infamous Sight. And I believe, if used correctly, he could be instrumental in bringing down their coven once and for all. Cordelia thinks she is seeing visions of a demon looming over her academy, well with this boy’s help, we’re going to give her just that..” Ariel’s sinister smile was spreading and he chuckled darkly. The other warlocks shared in the celebration, quickly masking their concern with cheer. After seeing the power in Michael, they were nervous to see what dark gifts Richard may possess. But as Grand Chancellor, Ariel of course had the final say.

Ariel then gave Michael precise instructions on how to get to the clinic, how to find the boy, and how to bring him back to Hawthorne safely without word ever reaching the coven back in New Orleans. And then wasting no time at all, he sent Michael on his quest to the Goldcoast Psychiatry Clinic to rescue the young warlock.

taglist: @sexwon131 @jimmason @whatcodysaid (thank you guys especially, you all inspire me💕😭)

[artificialqueens]

Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor, 2 (Branjie) (and background everyone) - Ortega

a/n: thank u for being so lovely to me about this rewrite! this chapter was tricky to rework but i solved it in the end wOO! as always love will always be appreciated so if it’s ur first time reading (or even if it’s not!) feel free to shoot some my way!! here we go with chapter 2 of strictly au 2: electric boogaloo (yes i will be making that joke every time i resubmit a new chapter xo)

fic summary: Strictly Come Dancing enters its 18th series and its producers, after being goaded by a rival dance show on its inclusivity, commission it to be an all-female cast. Unlike Akeria who’s just here to bone her potential dance partner, dancer Vanessa is ready to act like a professional.

And then TV presenter Brooke Lynn walks into the rehearsal room.

***

26th September 2020

Vanessa checks herself out in one of the full-length mirrors, her outfit a blur of red sequins and fringing and the flecks of glitter she’s spread across her collarbones and shoulders popping under the lights of the dressing room. She blinks slowly and carefully once, twice, then gives a little flutter of her immaculately-applied fake eyelashes.

“Makeup did a great job tonight,” she smiles appreciatively at herself. Akeria appears from behind her, squeezes her in a hug.

“Mm. Although I guess it helps when they get a canvas like mine to paint on,” she flutters her own falsies whilst framing her face with her hands, and Vanessa bats her away playfully. Suddenly they are nudged out of the way by Aja.

“Do you clowns mind? Some of us have to actually use these mirrors.”

“Yeah, let Aja in. She needs all the help she can get,” Shea calls from across the room, the girls giving a laugh and Aja giving a faux-wounded cry and dashing back across the room to whack Shea. Vanessa has missed this- the dressing room camaraderie, the gossiping and the occasional catfight. She’d marked out her territory in the long, white-and-metal room a few years ago when she’d befriended Akeria and Monique, and the three girls sit at the same three white vanity tables in the same three only-slightly-uncomfortable tan-stained white chairs, with their crushed water bottles and makeup bits and bobs and packets of dried fruit snacks scattered over the area like a bomb has gone off. The blast of hairdryers, hisses of hairspray cans, excited chatter and the playlist the dancers have all cultivated together combine to create one chaotic, noisy sound that Vanessa thinks is a little bit magical. It’s even more magical, more exciting and thrilling, now that she’s actually going to be partnered up with someone and have a proper Strictly journey.

“What’re y’all gonna teach as your first dance?” Monique asks, already touching up her eyeliner despite the fact she doesn’t need to.

“Hmph. Depends who I get,” Vanessa shrugs, a little thrum in her heart. “I wanna get some ballroom out of the way first though. Then it’s one less to choreograph.”

Monique hums in agreement. She knows Vanessa has limited ballroom experience, having competed almost exclusively in Latin competitions. Vanessa looks over at Jan and Jaida who are chatting excitedly with Plastique. They all knew each other from the ballroom circuit before they started on the show and Vanessa knows she’ll never be one of those dancers that exudes grace and poise, little paper dolls that float across the floor practically on tiptoe. Then again, those girls will never be a dancer like she is, all hips and curves, sass and fiery passion and playfulness. Well. Jaida probably could if she wanted to, but Vanessa remembers when the pros all did the Cell Block Tango number last year and Jaida kept getting the giggles at the sexiest parts and setting all the other girls off laughing. For one of the most attractive girls on the circuit, she balances it out with being a bit of a dork.    

“You sure you don’t wanna lead with your strong suit? Arrive with a bang, that sorta thing,” Akeria muses, and Vanessa shakes her head.

“It’s a long game, girl, you can’t peak too early.”

“Well my plan is to peak on the first night and then plateau. Tens across the board right through to the final,” Monique pipes up, touching her lashes and pulling a face at the mirror. Vanessa and Akeria share a long-suffering look and roll their eyes.

“Of course,” Akeria indulges her. “I’ll maybe do a Cha Cha Cha or somethin’.”

“Hey! I was gonna do a Cha Cha Cha!” Monique cries, appalled. Vanessa bursts out laughing.

“Bitch! There’s only about four dances you can pick from at the start anyway, if you wanted to be the only one doin’ it then lower your expectations,” she laughs at her friend. Monique narrows her eyes, turns around in her chair and calls on Crystal, hairspraying her long, dark wavy ponytail in place at her own vanity table. “Crys! What’re you doing for the first dance?”

Crystal turns around excitedly, looks to the ceiling in thought. “Oooh…some sort of samba, maybe? Start out difficult.”

Monique pouts, halfway to satisfied. “You heard what any of the other girls are doing?”

“Jaida’s undecided. Aja keeps talking about this vision she’s got for this rhumba to Chan Chan…oh! Jan’s doing a Cha Cha Cha.”

Vanessa stifles a laugh as Monique gives a wounded groan. “Damn it, Jan!”

Crystal laughs, shakes her ponytail out and shrugs. “To be fair, I think Jan’s planned out all her dances until she gets to the final. Nobody’s thought to tell her she might not get that far.”

“Hey! Heard that, asshole,” shouts Jan, a few tables down.

“Love you!” Crystal calls back, her voice typically high and sweet and ensuring nobody can ever get mad at her.

Talk turns to partners. It turns out Crystal’s got her eye on Jackie or Gigi, and Vanessa swears she can see a bit more blush appear on her cheeks when she tells her that Gigi was gunning for her as well. As some of the other girls who’re finished getting ready around them join in, Vanessa sneaks a look at her phone and idly scrolls to Instagram to find a certain comment that’s been running through her mind for the past month. A photo of her in the studio, it’s not even that cute; she’s got her old dance school hoodie on and a pair of black Primark leggings paired with her obnoxiously bright blue trainers, and she’s sitting on the floor fresh from her warmup holding her phone up to the mirror. Vanessa scrolls down, feels her heart give a little excited jump when she reaches the comment she was looking for.

bhytes:  😍😍😍

It’s dumb and embarrassing how much she’s scrolled Brooke Lynn’s profile since the girl followed her all those weeks ago. Vanessa had felt something inside her burst when she’d first seen the notification, and she still tries to tell herself she wasn’t disappointed when she saw that Brooke had followed most of the other pros too. Vanessa is only hung up on the girl because she’d be such a good partner. It’s not like they really flirted when they met, anyway- Brooke had just been joking around, and Vanessa had followed suit. Some jokes between two girls that had just met and had hit it off with each other stupidly well. It wasn’t anything more than that. Vanessa can’t take her eye off the ball this season; she’s in it to win, just like all the other girls. Being benched for two years has struck a determination in her that she’s not ready to let die. She remembers how confident Brooke was, how easily the moves came to her, how she dipped Vanessa safely and carefully but with such skill and how close they were pressed together when Vanessa came back up-

Alright, bitch. That’s enough of that.

Akeria yelling her name makes Vanessa jerk her head up from her screen, the other girls laughing at the surprise on her face.

“What are you even doing, Jesus,” Akeria mutters, grabbing her phone out of her hand. Vanessa gives a little squeak of outrage, trying not to blush as a shit-eating grin spreads across her friend’s face as she looks at Vanessa’s phone and the other dancers ask what she’s seen.

“Well, let’s just say we know who Vanjie wants to be partnered with,” Akeria smirks, the other girls descending into excited squawks as Vanessa clamours for her phone back and Akeria relents.

“Don’t make it weird, bitch, God,” Vanessa murmurs, trying not to be stung with embarrassment. Crystal pulls a sympathetic face, reaches out to place a comforting hand on Vanessa’s arm.

“Aw, Vanjie! It’s normal to get a lil’ crush on one of the celebrities, they’re all so beautiful and airbrushed.”

“Is it, though? Or are you just hung up on a certain model that you’ve not been able to stop mentioning every five minutes since you danced with her?” Jan quirks an eyebrow, the girls all laughing and screaming again. Vanessa thinks about bringing up Jan’s obvious infatuation with Jackie but then decides against it, remembering that her Mom always tells her people in glass homes shouldn’t throw rocks. Or whatever the saying was. Even though they moved here when Vanessa was two and she probably should be used to them by now she still hates figures of speech with a passion.

“Okay I don’t mind admitting it- whoever gets Asia O’Hara, you’re a lucky son of a bitch,” Akeria throws her hands up, and Monique rolls her eyes so hard that Vanessa momentarily worries for her vision.

“My God, Keeks! Mention it one more time, maybe there’s somebody livin’ in a fuckin’…croft in the Scottish Highlands that ain’t still aware you wanna climb Miss Asia like a tree.”

Vanessa bursts out laughing, joining the other girls. Shea whips her head around from her own mirror, her high, sleek ponytail tossing itself over her shoulder as she fixes them all with an unimpressed glare. “Oh my God, will you all stop being so horny on main for like, two goddamn minutes? Jeez. When was the last time y’all got laid, two thousand and fuckin’ ten?”

Aja laughs in outrage as she points an accusatory finger Shea’s way. “Hey, not all of us could marry a contestant, okay? Let these girls get laid already!”

As the girls all hoot and Shea looks ready to fire a playful comeback at her, one of the runners comes into the dressing room and shouts up a five minute warning. The dancers all explode with excited squeals and they all rush back to their dressing tables to do a last touch up of their makeup and strap themselves into their dance shoes. Vanessa feels her heart thrumming so loud and heavy in her chest that she regrets the Red Bull she’d sank earlier, her nerves suddenly consuming her. She walks into the corridor where some of the other girls are waiting, digs her feet into the soles of her shoes and takes two big deep, calming breaths like her first ever dance teacher taught her to do when the butterflies got all too much. They’re not getting their partners straight away- they’ve got the group dance to complete first, but after that they’ll be changing into uniform little white sparkly dresses and standing on the raised steps beside the dancefloor, ready for the celebrities to come out one by one. The very thought of seeing Brooke Lynn again, in person and all fake-tanned with a full face of makeup, is making Vanessa’s hands shake a little.

“Hey,” Courtney smiles at her, coming out to stand behind her in the corridor. “Good luck. You’ll be amazing.”

“Thanks, girl,” Vanessa smiles. Courtney is the Mom of the dancers, always looking out for the other girls and keeping the peace. Vanessa is appreciative of her calm presence just now.

“How’re you feeling?” Courtney asks, a little frown of concern on her face. She rolls her eyes at herself quickly as soon as the words are out of her mouth. “God. Sorry. Silly question.”

“I’m nervous as shit right now, I ain’t gon’ lie.”

Courtney smiles, takes her hand and squeezes it. “You’ll be fine. I’d be worried if you weren’t nervous to be honest. I still remember my first show. Just remember the dancing is the easy bit. It’s what you know. You’ve done it for two seasons already anyway, all that’s changed is that you get a partner! And that’s the best bit!”

Vanessa swallows, takes another deep breath. She looks at Courtney again. “You know before you get partnered? You ever get your hopes up for one particular celebrity?”

“God, obviously. It’s like when teachers say they don’t have favourites, but you know they do. Why?” Courtney gives her a wink which makes her blush out of embarrassment. “You got your eye on anyone specific?”

“Nah. It’s my first season competing, I’ll be happy with anyone! Can’t get too choosy.”

Courtney cocks a disbelieving eyebrow at her. “Hmm. You’re a bad liar, Vanjie, but I’ll leave you alone. Have fun out there! Break a leg.”

Vanessa’s stomach gives a dip as she throws Courtney a supportive smile and turns around in the line. Monique reaches back, squeezes her hand and whispers a good luck to her, and before she can get a chance to compose herself they’re all off snaking their way in single file through yellow strobe-lit corridors, then through a dark maze of black curtains and cables and electrical tape, and finally out into the muffled excitement of the audience and the hot glow of the stage lights from the rigging overhead. As the producers and runners dash about like panicked mice, Vanessa takes another shuddery deep breath and takes her place beside Vixen, thanking God the show isn’t live but also knowing they’re about to do the dance in one whole take. She’s done this before, it’s not new. She can do this. It’s what she loves.

“Right, ladies and gentlemen! Are we ready to make history? First same-sex series of Strictly Come Dancing?” a producer yells out, the audience whooping and cheering and stamping their feet. “And five…four…three…two…one…”  

The lights go up, the smile is plastered onto Vanessa’s face, and when she starts to dance everything she has been worrying about melts away. It sounds cheesy, Vanessa knows it, but when she dances her mind literally cannot think about a single thing other than the music and the rhythm and the moves unfolding as if she’s telling a story. Vanessa remembers days spent on the couch with her Mom and a bowl of popcorn watching Billy Elliot, Dance With Me, Dirty Dancing (even though that one was a 12 and Vanessa’s Mom always told her not to tell her Abuela she was allowing her to watch it) and falling in love with dancing. As the pros finish off their dance to rapturous applause, Vanessa wonders what eight-year-old her would make of it all. She’s on the biggest dancing show on UK TV and she’s about to actually compete in it. Jesus.

Backstage, Vanessa’s hands are shaking so much that they fumble with the zip at the back of her costume change. She is a bundle of nerves now that the dance is done- that’s the only part about tonight she can control, and it’s over. Shea sees her struggling, bats Vanessa’s hands out of the way firmly and hoists the zip up her spine. Vanessa feels like a six year old who’s just had to ask their teacher to help them get dressed after a P.E. lesson.

“Thanks,” she mutters, Shea giving her a tight smile in return.

“Stop worrying. You’ll just get yourself in a flap. What’re you scared of?” Shea asks her, her stern voice turning soft at the end of her sentence. Shea doesn’t have a lot of time for nonsense, but the time she does have is precious, so Vanessa sighs.

“I’m just…God, I don’t even know. Worried I get a dud on my first year, I guess. I want to showcase myself just as much as I want to showcase my teaching abilities, if that makes sense,” she shrugs, looking in the mirror and making sure none of her dark brown baby hairs are breaking free from their hairspray prison.

“If I can give you any advice for your first year, I’ll say this,” Shea continues, checking her own reflection out until a runner shoos them back into line with the other girls. “Don’t take it too serious. Establish yourself, yeah, but it’s more about having fun with whoever you’re partnered with. When I let go and did that I ended up winning. Now, shit, don’t tell anyone I’m giving you advice.”

Vanessa tries not to focus on the fact Shea has just mentioned winning. The thought makes her heart give a thud she’s convinced could land her in hospital. She thanks Shea, gives her a squeeze on her shoulder before the girls are led out onto the stage again. Vanessa is positioned on one of the upper levels in between Akeria and Jan. They give each other a smile of encouragement, and Vanessa reaches over to take Akeria’s hand.

“I hope you get who you want, Keeks,” she whispers, as the producers look ready to begin. Akeria squeezes her hand as a thank you and drops it just as the lights go up. Vanessa feels her stomach churn as she looks down. There’s Michelle, contestant-turned-presenter ready to look into the camera and start reading from the autocue, and she’s beside the table of four judges. Vanessa hasn’t had many dealings with the judges before- she hasn’t had to, but the four friendly-ish faces she’s only so much as smiled at backstage now seem so scary to her.

“Ready to go in three,” a producer calls out, and a hush falls over the audience. Vanessa feels herself wobble in her shoes, wonders if she’d get fired if she fainted on the first take. Before she can think too much about it, the lights flood the stage and Michelle is announcing the first celebrity to be partnered- Heidi Cheek, or, to her listeners, Heidi Nina Closet. She’s dressed in a black sparkly dress which contrasts those of the dancers, and Vanessa realises the costume designers’ vision straight away. Vanessa remembers Heidi- she’d been one of the girls she’d danced with after Brooke, and she was sweet and funny and approached learning with a cheerful sense of enthusiasm, even if it had taken her a couple of tries to get the moves right. Michelle asks her how she’s feeling.

“Excited! It’s so different to doin’ my radio show, you know? I’m not used to bein’ on camera. They didn’t tell me I’d be goin’ through makeup at all. Everyone wore their joggers and gym clothes in rehearsals so I just thought we’d all be wearin’ the same things,” Heidi begins, the audience laughing already. “Also these heels! I barely even wear shoes at work, Lord. I can’t walk in these so how I’ll dance in them I’ll never know. Least I don’t need to fake tan like some of these other girls. That whole dressin’ room smells like a pack of biscuits.”

As the audience give another laugh, Vanessa can feel her heart hammer frantically as Michelle turns to Heidi. “Okay, Heidi. This…is…it.”

The lights go down, and Vanessa wants nothing more than to squeeze her eyes shut but she knows the cameras will be giving close-ups and so she stands, poised and ready, practising her not-looking-disappointed face in case she gets partnered with her.

“Your Strictly Come Dancing 2020 pro is…”

Breathe, don’t forget to breathe. Don’t close your eyes. Stop clenching your fists.

“Antonia ‘Vixen’ Taylor!”

Vanessa lets out a massive sigh of relief, her smile huge and genuine as she claps for the newly paired couple. Vixen races across the stage and lets out an excited squeal, Heidi crushing her in a tight hug. Both girls are clearly happy about who they’ve been partnered up with. They give a short post-pairing interview where they both squeal about how enthused and excited they are and Michelle sends them up to the auditorium. Vanessa claps them again then lets out another sigh. One couple down, eleven to go.

Michelle, a seasoned professional, copes well with the stop-start way that pre-recorded TV is usually filmed. Vanessa, however, stands and frets and wobbles in her heels through the next five pairings. Blair St Clair is paired up with Courtney next, and both girls are content with their partner. Blair just seems happy she’s got somebody who won’t eat her for breakfast if she makes a mistake.

“I’m so happy I got paired up with a winner!” she beams in her interview, her arm linked with Courtney’s. “And we had so much fun on the induction day, she put up with me so well. Even though she had to re-teach me the steps about twelve times.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself! It wasn’t twelve!” Courtney soothes, then gives Michelle a cheeky smile. “More like ten.”

A clearly satisfied Peppermint is given to an equally happy Shea and, to her obvious delight, Akeria is paired with Asia. Jan gives an over-the-top display of sheer unadulterated celebration when she’s paired with Jackie and almost gives Vanessa tinnitus with the amount she screeches, and Vanessa finds herself beaming with joy when Gigi is paired with Crystal, both girls behaving like Care Bears when they reach each other, all soft cuddles and squeezing hands.

Michelle takes a quick drink of water, announces some special guest singer that nobody cares about to perform at the halfway point. The girls who’re waiting to be partnered are called off the stage and the fiftysomething country singer last relevant in 2006 begins setting up. Vanessa scans her eyes over the pros that are left. There’s her, Monique, Plastique, Aja, Phi Phi and Jaida.

“Who’s still not been partnered up?” Phi Phi hisses urgently, her face determined as she addresses the other girls.

“Yvie Oddly hasn’t got anyone yet,” Plastique mentions calmly. “Or the Love Island girl.”

“Farrah,” Aja corrects her, then pulls a face. “Scarlet Envy’s not got anyone yet either.”

“Has Brooke Lynn been given anyone?” Vanessa asks rhetorically, as if she hasn’t been waiting with every embryo she possesses for the girl to come out onto the stage.

“No,” Jaida shakes her head, oblivious to the fact Vanessa already knows the answer. “And there’s Monet and Willam. So there’s three…maybe four girls still left that we can win with.”

“Hey, Scarlet has potential,” Monique shrugs kindly. Plastique snorts.

“Potential to what? Earn the lowest scores ever recorded?”

Phi Phi covers her hand with her mouth as she giggles, and Vanessa frowns at them both.

“Nobody’s winning with Willam either. The woman’s treating the whole thing as a huge joke,” Phi Phi continues.

Vanessa can’t help but send a barb her way. “I don’t know, girl, she seemed pretty clued-up when she was with me. But I guess a bad teacher always blames her students.”

Plastique and Jaida let out a squeal which they muffle behind their hands. Monique grabs Vanessa for support as she splutters a laugh, and Phi Phi scowls at her. “Well I’m not the one that was-”

“Would y’all just shut the fuck up for, like, two minutes?” Aja hisses, lowering the rapidly escalating volume of the conversation. “Unless we wanna be picked up by the mic and get round two of the half-decaying Darius Rucker impersonator that’s out there.”

Aja is friendly and funny but she’s scary when she wants to be, so the girls take a telling and fall silent as the song is finished. It’s not long until they’re led back out onto stage and are assembled onto the same podium as last time, and the cameras are rolling again. Next out is Willam. It says a lot that the stage makeup manages to tone her down, the gentle grey smoke across her eyelids a far cry from the riot of glitter that had been scattered over them on induction day. Michelle begins the interview.

“Now, Willam, you starred in Brittania High a few years ago, that was a bit dance-y - do you think that’ll come in handy during your Strictly journey?” Michelle is asking her. Willam brushes a stray hair out of her face and shrugs.

“I mean, I didn’t do too much of the dancing? I was a leading lady so I got most of the ballads. And most of the lines. More a main character than a backing dancer, really. No shade to any of my ex castmates, of course. Except Detox. Rotted bitch.”

“CUT!”

Vanessa bites her lip hard to try to stop a laugh coming out. Willam looks amused, if a little perturbed. “Is that not allowed? It was just a joke, she knows I love her really. Family show? Oh, okay.”

Vanessa can’t help it and lets out a laugh along with some of the audience. Phi Phi’s face doesn’t move.

“Okay Willam, time to see who your partner will be.”

The lights go down again. Even though it’s now the seventh time this has happened, Vanessa still feels as if she’s surviving a near-death experience every time someone new is paired up. It would be good to be paired with Willam. She’d be fun. She’s got potential. She’d work hard. She wouldn’t be disappointed at all.

“…It’s Phi Phi O’Hara!”

Oh, fuck. Vanessa sucks her lips into her mouth, tries not to laugh as the fake smile takes hold on Phi Phi’s face like a mask as she runs over to Willam, gives her a polite hug. She is raging. Serves her right for being mean.

“Willam Belli! What an enormous…” Phi Phi tails off, gesturing at the woman beside her as she searches for the right word. “…pleasure…it is to be paired up with her!”

Vanessa catches eyes with Monique, almost splutters a laugh. Phi Phi’s delivering everything through gritted teeth. Willam is smiling beside her, although her gaze keeps darting up to someone in the auditorium. Vanessa wonders if there’s someone she would rather have been partnered with.

Phi Phi is led off smiling demonically, and then Yvie appears by Michelle’s side to be paired up next. She is given to Jaida, and both girls seem happy with their pairing. Next out is Farrah. Vanessa’s heart lifts. She didn’t get paired up with Farrah at all on induction day- they’re both too small to be each others’ partners and so far there’s been at least a little bit of a height difference to each pairing. Still, though…Vanessa can’t get too complacent. She puts her hands behind her back and crosses her fingers and hopes she won’t get chosen, feeling like she’s on her first day at Hogwarts and Michelle is holding the sorting hat.

“…Aja Rivera!”

Vanessa is almost sick with relief, but as Michelle interviews the new partners she can’t help but feel almost a little dizzy with nerves. There are only three celebrities left: Scarlet, Monet and, of course, Brooke Lynn. The producers stop filming and arrange Vanessa, Plastique and Monique on the same level so as they’re not too scattered across the stage.

“You look like you’re about to throw up. Or faint. Or maybe die,” Monique whispers to her, concerned. Plastique rolls her eyes.

“Leave her alone, Mo, it’s her first partner,” she chastises her. Vanessa is grateful for the sympathy and doesn’t acknowledge how right Monique is. She does feel as if she’s about to do all three of those things, possibly all at the same time. Just as she thinks things can’t get any more nervewracking, the lights go up, Michelle announces the next celebrity, and Brooke Lynn appears.

Vanessa feels as if all the air has been sucked out of the room. Brooke’s hair is tousled and swept over one shoulder, the black smoke of eyeshadow the makeup department blended onto her eyelids makes the green of her eyes pop, and the character heels and the fringing on her black sparkly dress means that Vanessa’s eyes can’t help but be drawn to her legs. This is the girl she’s been waiting for. If she gets Brooke, she knows she can go far, she knows she can do a lot. She hardly hears a word Brooke says in her interview, all Vanessa is doing is repeating prayer after prayer- she’s not even that religious but her Mom, Tia and Abuela combined have probably said enough Hail Marys on her behalf to garner her a decent amount of favour with whoever’s up there, so she gives it a go.

“Okay, Brooke, let’s see who is going to be partnered with you for your Strictly journey.”

The lights go down. Vanessa swears her heart stops beating. She casts her eyes to the ceiling, not daring to meet Brooke’s. Her palms are way too sweaty to be normal. She clasps them together but they’re still shaking like crazy. The room is silent save from the single drum beat that’s serving to build tension. It’s doing its job too well, Vanessa thinks. She swears this pause is longer than all the others put together. She can hear the catch in Michelle’s throat as she’s about to speak, her heart soaring high with anticipation.

“It’s-”

“Cut!”

There’s a groan from the audience. Vanessa is going to faint right here, right now, filming be damned.

“Sorry, we’ve got a problem with the lights, it’s hitting Plastique’s face all weird. Can we sort that?…Okay. Thanks.”

Vanessa is no longer nervous. She’s now just impatient. As she taps her foot frustratedly and sweeps a glance over the room, she’s determined not to look at Brooke. She wonders if she’s looking at her already. Unable to help herself, she sneaks a look and instantly meets Brooke’s eyes with her own. Her heart leaps as if someone’s just turned the key in its ignition. Brooke unsuccessfully stifles a smile, sends her a wink as if they’re the only two people in the room. Vanessa waggles her fingers in a wave, then snaps her gaze away as the producer silences the audience again. Michelle repeats her line, the lights go down again, and Vanessa’s not scared this time. She’s thinking it into existence. She knows it’s going to be her. Michelle just has to say it.

“…it’s Vanessa Mateo!”

Vanessa screams. She knows her face must be an absolute picture as she sinks to the ground in shock, gripping her face with both her hands. She can hear Monique and Plastique laughing and clapping above her, and she can barely walk in a straight line as she rises back up and dashes across to hug Brooke. Brooke’s smile is almost splitting her face, and she breaks away from Michelle and runs towards her, picking her up and twirling her round in a tight hug that Vanessa never wants to break free from. She’s done it. She and Brooke are partners. She gets to work with her for as long as they’re in the competition together. Maybe Vanessa will start going to mass after all.

“Oh my God,” Vanessa eventually says, as Brooke carries her in the hug for as long as she can manage then deposits her down beside Michelle who is laughing so hard Vanessa wonders if they’ll have to do another take. They do not. Instead, Brooke drapes an arm around Vanessa’s shoulder and pulls her close. Without knowing what possesses her, Vanessa takes her hand. She looks up at Brooke who’s looking down at her and they laugh together, sharing a ridiculously huge smile.

“Sorry. That was too much,” Brooke says apologetically. The audience laughs along with Vanessa.

“Uh, Vanessa,” Michelle starts, laughing a little through her question. “It’s your first year with a partner, I probably- well I don’t- need an answer, but I have to ask…how do you feel about being partnered with Brooke?”

“Listen,” Vanessa composes herself. She’s out of breath and her voice is hoarse from screeching, but she’s getting this out. “If you knew what this girl can do, you’d be screamin’ like a banshee too, Michelle. She’s so talented, I know she’s gonna be incredible…God, I can’t wait to win this whole thing with her.”

Everyone laughs again, but Vanessa’s only looking at Brooke. The girl’s eyes crinkle up when she smiles, and it only makes her look ten times more beautiful than she already is. Not that that’s weird. Just an observation.

“Brooke, how do you feel?”

Brooke looks back down at Vanessa, still smiling. “No, I’m the exact same. I know we kind of look like a bar chart together, but we just work. I knew I wanted to be her partner since induction day.”

Vanessa gives a happy sigh. She wants to wrap both her arms around Brooke and to not let go. Part of her feels like she’s lifting the glitterball already. Brooke is a trophy and Vanessa feels like a winner.

“Well, congratulations to the pair of you. One last time, give it up for Vanessa and Brooke Lynn!”

Vanessa drops her hand down and Brooke catches it in hers, the pair of them running past the audience and upstairs to the auditorium where the other girls are ready with excited squeals and hugs for them both. Vanessa accepts them all gladly, and when she is finally released she is positioned at the bannister beside her new dance partner. She turns to her and smiles, Brooke easily returning it, and Vanessa is suddenly bashful.

“Hey,” Brooke smiles at her cheekily.

“Hey,” Vanessa grins, looking to the floor awkwardly. “Sorry. If I freaked you out. Guess my reaction was kinda too much.”

“Girl, did you see me? I was spinning you round like a fucking windmill. If anyone should be apologising it should be me.”

They both laugh softly. Vanessa shrugs a little. “Least we know we’ll be good at lifts.”

Brooke raises her eyebrows and concedes, and Vanessa tries not to get too excited about the fact she can say the word we. They fall quiet as the producers call for hush and Scarlet is led out. As Vanessa listens to Scarlet’s interview, she can feel Brooke’s eyes on her and she turns to face her, unable to stop the smile creeping back onto her face. Brooke looks caught out for a second before she leans in close to Vanessa to whisper to her.

“I meant it, you know. I’m so happy I got you. I wasn’t just saying it for the cameras.”

Vanessa gives a happy sigh, places her hand over Brooke’s that’s clinging to the bannister. “Me too, girl. This is where it all begins. Let’s win this damn thing.”

They don’t let go of each others’ hands until the final pairing is announced.

[star-birthmark]

hi hi can i have some (secretly) needy Jotaro who misses his s/o while he's on a trip? What does he miss about her/thinking about gift ideas/etc etc. And their reunion if possible!! (she/her pronouns) thank u v much uwu have a nice day c:

Anon, thank you, this is the exact ask I need right now. Not gonna lie, I’m feeling pretty fucking down right now, not doing well mentally, so any chance to write/read anything with Jotaro (my f/o) is welcome. Today has not been a good day, at all, here’s hoping this makes it better. 

Anyway, side note, the reference to the ring is here. 

Without further ado: Missing you: Jotaro x Reader (2k words)

Jotaro had had enough. He even didn’t realize how much he missed you until he found himself in his American office, meanwhile, you were a fifteen-hour flight away in Japan. The scientist grumbled, unable to focus on his work. Putting it aside, he instead turned and stared out the window, looking out at the beautiful Florida coast. He understood why the Speedwagon Foundation needed him there in Florida, to inspect the whereabouts of any stand arrows or followers of Dio, as well as to continue his research. But he also understood why they needed him in Italy... and then in Britain... and then in Egypt... and then finally in Florida, each trip one right after the other. 

Jotaro began tapping his fingertips along the wood of his desk, a nervous, angry tick he’d developed in his travels. Including all these damn business trips together, he’d been gone from you for a collective 2 months now. Sure, you two have called each other, but no amount of hours over the phone could equate to coming home to you, and resting close to you in shared bed as you melted away his anxieties about his coworkers expecting so much from him, and how he feels he might not be good enough for his job. But you knew better than to let him feel that way, and you always managed to make him feel loved and cared for. 

But you weren’t here. And Jotaro missed you more than he’d openly admit. The tapping on his desk continued the more upset he got. 

He had two days left in Florida before he’d be able to go home, and he could not wait. He wondered what he’d do with you when he finally got home. He wanted to do something special with you since it’s been so long. There was a fancy new restaurant that had opened up near you two in the city, but you’d both been too busy, and he had been dying to take you there. It was a very black tie place though... The thought of you in a beautiful dress, looking as beautiful dress, looking as beautiful as ever, had the young man grinning shyly to himself. Inwardly, Star Platinum was doing backflips at the idea. A chance after so long to spend time with you, to have a relaxing evening with you, and not his stuffy, older coworkers who didn’t understand his hard travel and homesickness. Jotaro tipped his white hat over his darkened eyes. A nice dinner together, a walk in the park afterward, a kiss under one of the street lamps. Jotaro smiled wider and Star Platinum immerged from his form. The two of them shared a knowing look. 

“Ora...”

“Yeah yeah... I know. I love kissing (y/n) too...” 

Jotaro slapped his stand on the arm after such a lovesick comment. But oh man... a kiss from you right then would have been heaven on Earth. Jotaro hadn’t even liked anything romantic until he met you. Then when you first kissed, he finally understood why everyone else in the world loves it so much. Jotaro knew he wasn’t the most romantic of boyfriends, but you were the only one on Earth that could bring out his soft side like this. He wanted to do so many things with you, all of them impeded by the distance between you two. Kiss you, go on a date, laugh together, cuddle, and even go one step further-

“Dr. Kujo? Your meeting with the senior donors is in five minutes.” 

Jotaro stopped his tapping on his desk, having realized that he should have been preparing for this meeting instead of being distracted by thoughts of you. Jotaro thanked his assistant and stood up from his desk, his mind still racing the more he missed you. 

He should get you something. 

You’ve been so patient with him and his constant travel, but now that his most recent study was coming to a close, plus he’d managed to track down another arrow, Jotaro figured he should reward you for your patience. Walking the hallways of the SPW compound, the young scientist pondered what gift to get you. Star Platinum floated beside him, easily phasing though the none stand user employees. The stand and user discussed possibilities together, the other staff playing Jotaro no ming. They knew he was talking to his stand, even if they couldn’t see it. 

Star Platinum thought on potential gifts for you while Jotaro walked across the company campus to his meeting. 

“Ora?” 

Jotaro thought about it. “No... too flashy. (y/n)’s more relaxed, you know that.”

“Ora...Ora?” 

“How am I supposed to fit that on the plane?!” 

“Ora ora!”

“No...not doing that...”

“Ora... Ora! ORA ORA ORA!”

“Oh yeah? What’s your brilliant idea star?”

“...Ora.”

Jotaro stopped in his tracks, turning to his stand, who was now giving him a big, giddy smile. 

“A ring? You think so?” 

Star nodded. “Ora.” Jotaro blushed more while walking to the meeting.

“An engagement ring?! Really?!” 

“Ora ora!” The stand said gleefully, nodding until his head hurt, 

“Wow... the thought never occurred to me to ask (y/n) to marry me...” Star rolled his eyes and punched Jotaro on the arm. Jotaro huffed. 

“Alright alright, good grief. If you’re thinking it, that must mean I’m thinking it too. You’re me. I get it.” The moment the thought of proposing to you came to his head, Jotaro simply couldn’t get it out. 

“I mean... I have all day tomorrow to get a ring. And I already know what size she is...”

Well... that was it. That was what he was going to do. Jotaro Kujo was going to propose to you. The young man walked into the meeting with new confidence in his step, despite his face being bright red with smitten embarrassment. Star Platinum was even more excited, barely able to contain himself. Jotaro kept waving for him to go away until he was interrupted by a senior professor at the meeting. 

“Umm... Dr. Kujo? Could you please introduce yourself to the group now that you’ve entered the room?” 

Jotaro looked around, now unbelievably anxious as he rushed to sit down. “Yeah.. of course. Hello everyone.” The meeting continued, Jotaro’s fingers tapping on the table as he thought what kind of ring to get. 

- - - 

The day finally arrived that Jotaro would return from two months of travel, and you were so excited you could hardly contain yourself. At that point in your two’s separation, your patience was wearing very thin, and you were ready for Jotaro to get here so you could jump him and make up for the lost time. 

 You did everything to make sure he was coming back to a peaceful home. You’d already finished your work at your own lab, so you found the time to clean the house, hang up a “welcome home” sign, and even call up Mrs. Holly for a recipe on what Jotaro would like best to eat for dinner when he arrives. Everything was set. You were anxiously waiting in the living room near the front door and Jotaro was anxiously waiting in the cab to get home to you. The ring box was hidden under his mountain of papers and files, and he was itching to finally pop the question, even if he was a little nervous about it all. 

Finally, he arrived at the front door, standing on the porch and calming himself down enough to open it. He went looking for his keys in his briefcase, unable to find them after so long of not needing them. However, this problem didn’t really present an issue when you swung the door open in front of him. Jotaro looked up part his hat to see you standing there. He gulped. You looked beautiful. 

“...Hi dear, long time no see-”

“Jotaro!” 

Even Jotaro was surprised when you managed to tackle him in a tight hug, the two of you landing on the front lawn, the fall broken by the soft grass. You stared into his shocked face before leaning in to give your love a deep, fulfilling kiss after two lonely months. Jotaro let out a heavy sigh, melting into your touch as you rested on top of him, both of you oblivious to your neighbors seeing everything. When you two finally broke your contact and stood up, Jotaro turned to you with a small grin. 

“How’d you know I was outside? I wasn’t making any noise so I could surprise you.” 

You chuckled a bit. “Well... I could see Star jumping up and down through the window.” 

Both of you turned to see your stands happily reuniting with one another with kisses of their own as well. Jotaro groaned in embarrassment before you reminded him that you two were the only ones that could see the stands, and you all went inside. You could barely contain your excitement, Jotaro could barely contain his nerves. You turned to him, bouncing off the walls with a smile on your face, and rushing around between the kitchen and the living room, taking his suitcase from him. 

“Come in, come in you big lug. Give me your suitcase, we’ll wash everything tomorrow. I made dinner for us, your favorite too. A-and there’s a Columbo marathon waiting for us and then I also wanna just relax with you and um... well, you know. Umm... and I’m sorry that I don’t look better than I do. I was wearing the outfit that I wanted to wear while I was cooking but it got dirty so it’s in the laundry so-”

“(y/n).”

You stopped your rambling and moving about and turned to your boyfriend as he remained standing in the front entrance of the house. Jotaro calmly took his white hat and jacket off, hanging them up on the coat rack, before turning to you with a shy smile, small tears in his eyes.

“... I’ve really missed you.”

You felt your heart soar in your chest as you approached Jotaro once more, your own vision now clouded with tears as well. You wrapped your arms around him, resting your head in his chest and sniffling a bit. 

“I’ve really missed you too...” Jotaro smiled and looked down at the top of your head, giving you a soft kiss, and taking in your scent and warmth, both of which he’d missed more than anything. 

“I love you so much (y/n)...”

“I love you too...” After several minutes of you two standing there, Jotaro finally spoke up. 

“Alright... come on. We’re going out for dinner.” 

You turned to him confused. “But what about all the stuff I cooked?!” 

“We’ll eat it tomorrow.”

“But what about Columbo?”

“Columbo’s not going anywhere.” 

“But-”

“(y/n). You’ve been so great and patient with me these past two months, just let me spoil you.”

You pouted before sighing and reaching up on your toes, you give Jotaro a quick peck on the lips. 

“Alright, I’ll get ready. Is this place fancy?” 

“Yeah... wear the purple dress?” 

You smile. “Sure dear.” 

Jotaro smiled, watching you head back to the bedroom to change. After not long of waiting, he looked up at the sound of your heels clicking on the floor. You finished fidgeting with your gold stud earring before turning to him. 

“How do I look?”

Jotaro stood up from his seat, in awe, a big grin on forming on his face. 

“If we didn’t have reservations, I’d jump you and carry you upstairs right now.” 

You smirked at him. “We could cancel...” You said flirtingly. 

Jotaro shook his head. “Nope, no chance.” 

You smacked his chest playfully with a pout and turned towards the exit to get your coat. Seeing that your back was to him and he was out of sight, Star Platinum quickly handed Jotaro the ring box having gotten it from the biologist’s briefcase. Jotaro opened it and smiled at the star-shaped diamond at the center of the rose gold band. Once you turned around though, Jotaro quickly hid it away. 

“Ready to go?” You asked, holding out your hand. Jotaro took it in his. 

“Yeah... let’s go.”  

[bangtansfavwriter]

🌷jungkook having a crush on you🌷

- jk and you vibed so fast that you became close friends very quickly (the chaotic duo that tested hyung line's last nerves when you were in your mischievous mood)

-you sorta became an honorary member of the maknae line and after you pulled a prank on jin that included a chocolate cake, marmite and liquorice and ended up with jin's face shrivelling so bad that it may have caused him his first wrinkles

(his revenge was to serve you kimchi bokkeumbap with kimchi that had gone bad, which resulted in the worst heartburn you ever had ("an eye for a eye, y/n" - you, drinking your 3rd mint tea that night: "fair enough"), you redeemed yourself by buying him hyaluronic acid lotion and his favourite strawberry cheesecake, jk just laughed his ass off to the misery jin and you went through and blackmailed jin with marmite whenever they bickered ("it will hit u when u least expect it, hyung" - "I can't believed I raised lucifer himself"))

-anyway, jk and you are always very playful together, and you laugh so much when you're with him bc of his antics

-he doesn't mind being extra goofy to make you laugh, it lifts his spirits as well

-hates to see you sad/upset, namjoon and jk once spoke about you, after namjoon asked him about your guys' friendship and for the first time in ages he was sure jungkook had deeper feelings for someone, as he said: "I don't mind making a fool out of myself, if it brings a smile on y/n's face. hyung, I know this is going to sound weird but sometimes I feel like it is my purpose to show y/n everything good and funny, this is something I wanna keep doing for a long time." (tbh namjoon teared up)

-your guys' fav pastimes were watching cartoons/animes and you had a fiery competition going on in any kind of jump and run games, especially for sonic (you once beat jk after a 4 hour session and he threw a dramatic fit until you made him hot chocolate and he finally calmed down)

-would show you tons of pics and vids of gureum and filmed every minute of your first encounter

-your personal photographer tbh, you two could go chill in a parking lot and he would still do the most aesthetic shots

-despite all the funny moments you two also had serious conversations together. moments like that were rare and mostly after 2am when you two shared secrets with each other you didn't dare to speak about at daytime, like your views on love where jungkook first thought of how much he wants to be your "loved one"

-has a folder with his favourite pics of you or places that remind him of you somehow, but he'd never tell you that

- tries to impress you quiet often, like the time you went for karaoke

your pick: new face

his pick: vision of love

you: ????????? bitch ?????? do i look like i can sing a mariah song????

jk: well....... i can..... 👀

you: i'll see you at the whistle notes

jk: i've made a huge mistake

-you're usually the first person to listen to his covers and he looooves seeing your reaction to it (but he's usually pretty nervous about it too)

- cannot concentrate for shit when you're watching him during dance practice, so hobi told you, in a nice way, to stay away from dance practice for the sake of bts and jk apologised like 12 times to everyone, he got better at focusing over time and you watched him once in a while... but he'd get v shy when he had to do hip thrusts and stuff, you'd just laugh it off but in reality you were just trying to hide you how much he actually affects you, especially during a choreo like that

-the boys teased him quite a lot about you and he'd get all whiny and say it's not like he had a crush on you or something

vmin: *laughing*

sope: *shaking their heads*

jin: oh reallyyy~~

namjoon: so you're ok with the fact y/n is on a date rn?

jungkook: WHAT

- so namjoon took out his phone and showed jk that you updated your story with some food pic where you could see a man's hand in the background, who was also tagged in the pic

namjoon: see? that guy also tagged y/n here in his pic

jk: .....

-the guys stopped teasing him the second they realized how upset jk actually was (he went completely silent, eyebrows furrowed), yoongi just stated the obvious: "our maknae is in love, huh", the boys smiled and jungkook nodded with a sad look on his face

-the next time you visited the guys jungkook was visibly flustered around you and would be just overwhelmed with the entire situation bc he wanted to know who that guy was, but he didn't know how to ask and neither did he want to intrude and what if you're taking it the wrong way and say that it's none of his business and suddenly he loses his best friend because of some stupid guy in a stupid picture and some stupid hypothetical date.... overthinking at its finest, as you can see...

-you didn't know why he became so awkward around you, the boys obviously knew but they couldn't say anything without risking jungkook completely losing his shit, but jungkook avoided you and left early when you were there and you were like "... why"...well the boys knew why but they couldn't say anything

-you tried talking to him but he tried to avoid you since he got so flustered around you that he'd stuttering, get embarrassed about it and then leave...

-you asked the boys about it, but they wouldn't say anything but tbh this was almost painful to watch for them bc they love their maknae but they knew this wasn't going anywhere.... so their eldest took the matter into his own hands and talked to you and asked you about the guy in your story.....

-shortly after that, the guys went to europe for vacation. jungkooks airport look was something for the goth look book once again, while the other guys looked bright and ready for their time off, and jin was like "oh here we go again" and once again jk helped out...

- the boys knew he kept himself busy the entire time after things got awkward with you, but they didn't exactly know what he was doing in his studio, only taehyung knew he was editing something

-so the boys were enjoying their time off and even got jungkook's mind off of you with some sightseeing and other leisure activities they had planned

-but at the end of the day, he thought of you and read your last messages over and over again. the last time you had texted was when you wished him a good time in europe and he thanked you. he sighed as he realized how your long texts with each other had turned into such short ones within 1 week

- yoongi: i cannot take this anymore, we need to do something about this

jin: i did. i invited y/n to join us.

the boys: ???

jin: all expenses on the company.

the boys: ?????????

-also, this was the first time you guys were separated, and it gave him the chance think about what he truly wants for you two, friendship or more.. he decided to confide in namjoon and jin about it and seek advice

namjoon: i'm sure y/n likes you too, and even if not, which I really doubt, at least you'll get it sorted out that way and carry on

jk: hyung, see that's the thing. if my feelings will not be reciprocated, i won't be able to continue a friendship... that's why I am so scared.

jin: y/n's coming here, tomorrow, jk, only for you, so i'm pretty sure your feelings will be reciprocated. just be honest about them.

jk: what do you mean y/n's gonna be here tomorrow?

jin: exactly that.

jk: with all due respect, hyung-nim, what the fuck

(-namjoon cackling in the background-)

-so jin explained how he asked you about joining them bc jk was so down and reassured jk that he didn't tell you anything about his feelings and that you solely come there bc you also had 2 weeks off and you wanted to spend time with him, even though jin had some convincing to do since you thought it might be awkward between jk and you

- jin: also, the supposed date on her story? that was just a night out among co-workers, so it was definitely not a date, I asked y/n about it

jk: ....... why didn't you tell me sooner? why are you telling me that a week later, when I'm in another country??

jin: remember the time you put actual fish oil in my bungeoppang?

jk:

jin: see, you did this and I'm still arranging you a romantic getaway, like the merciful god i am

jk: oh my god

jin: exactly

-jk texted you the same night and asked you where you are and said that jin told him everything. "maybe I should let the food war continue after all..", you thought and rolled your eyes. you sent jungkook a pic from the view you had from your hotel room, where you arrived a few hours prior, and he could clearly recognize that you were indeed there, as unbelievable as it was for him.

you: I can't believe jin ruined the surprise

jk: trust me, it still was a huge surprise for me

you: a good one, I hope?

jk: definitely... you know, i actually wanted to text you.

you: about the past week, i suppose?

jk: kinda. i'm going to send you something. it was done rather quickly, so have some mercy on me with that.. and please don't be mad at me

you: ok..? you're kind of worrying me here

jk: and y/n.. i won't say anything about it, it should speak for itself.. and please don't say anything about it until I see you tomorrow, ok?

you: alright..

jk: I'll see you at the café jin hyung told me about, depending on the answer you're gonna give me

you: I'll be there, no matter what

jk: ok, then, yellow shirt in case you're answer is positive, black shirt in any other case, how about that?

you: fine by me koo ☺️

jk: ok...... here goes nothing 🙇🏻‍♂️

-what he sent you was a gcf with your name as the title and what followed was a beautiful compilation of your favourite moments you and jungkook had shared, and some moments you weren't even aware of the fact that he was filming you..some scenes, for example: your guys' trip to lotte world, you giggling into the camera when turned the cam to both of you wearing bunny ears, you laughing your ass off while filming him dancing to cl's "hello bitches", you on the day you went to the planetarium together, the time you came over to his place with food after he was too exhausted to do anything after practice and you watched "spirited away" together, then you playing with gureum while he giggles behind the camera, you being bts' no 1 hype man during their concert preparations, some videos where you cheered for him during the days you two spent apart bc of award shows.... and at the end of the video there was a single picture of you two, where you smiled widely into the camera, while he looked at you with a shy smile on his face... and finally, you heard his voice saying the words which appeared on screen: "be my loved one".

- the next day, jungkook was waiting for you in the café opposite the church, where you would come to as well. he was nervous as hell and honestly he still wasn't sure if you're actually going to come there or if jin played a prank on him. he checked his texts again and again and just stared at the "read" sign beneath the text and the video he sent you and mentally slapped himself for telling you to keep your answer to yourself until you meet him in the café. he started overthinking again, to a point where he zoned out so much that he didn't even notice 6 guys with huge sunglasses and a suspicious lot of newspapers, sitting at another table what finally made him snap back into reality was the sound of someone pulling the chair at his table, which instantly made him turn around only to see you sitting down next to him, right at the moment when the bells started ringing. undoubtedly, the colour yellow has never made jungkook happier.

💕

epilogue:

-at the dorms with the boys after you left your company dinner party early-

jimin: why'd you come back so early?

you: because SOMEONE almost broke my co-workers hand during a handshake

jk: it's called asserting dominance, y/n, don't you ever listen to david attenborough sunbaenim?

[snowpeawritings]

Oops- Forgot to add that! Scenario please for the DGS ask!

prompt: naruhodou and sherlock’s s/o being blackmailed and forced to falsely testify and theyre in scotland yard?

Reader is gender neutral

CW (CONTENT WARNING): Minor spoilers for DGS 2, drug mention, suicide mention

| Ryuunosuke Naruhodou |

You watched the flame of  the candle flicker idly. Their mouths moved but you didn’t hear anything. You couldn’t hear anything. The blood rushing to your ears distracted you from listening to the trial. To others, they thought you were angry that the suspect had slipped past your grasp in your patrol.

To you, the true perp who was watching the trial with a contented smirk.

In order for you to not leap across the room and maul the man, you had to cross your arms under your chest and clutched the sleeves of your uniform with a passion. You probably couldn’t afford a new one so you had to patch the holes yourself.

Him (you had dubbed him the rat man) and the suspect go way back apparently. Far back that they were able to blackmail you of yours and a certain lawyer’s relationship.

It would be the biggest scandal for you and your career hasn’t even started. You were just a fledgling police officer that was too good for the Japanese man and Scotland Yard. If word got out that you were dating him—

You worry more for him rather than your own fate from Barok van Zieks.

His Honor had allowed a cross-examination and asked for the person who was in charge of their beat, you didn’t even let out a noise.

It was only when the defense had called your position in Scotland Yard, then your name. “Are you feeling well?”

It was a question out of courtesy since you’ve been standing on the witness stand without saying anything, but you knew the defense that those words had hidden concern.

You lightly nodded your head. “I’m fine.”

With a flourish of your hand, you brought your right hand above your heart and bowed your chest in a perfect 45 degree angle. “Honorable citizens of the court, please allow me to testify in this esteemed hall of justice!”

| Witness Testimony | What occurred in my beat

“I was patrolling around my beat as usual, the fog hadn’t been as bad as it was a lot of times before so I didn’t have any excuse to miss anything. T’was ‘round the corner of Rose’s Bakery that I spotted the suspect prowling near the dustbins that the bakery had.”

“Hold it!” Yelled Naruhoudo. “These dustbins… These are the same ones that was behind the bakery, correct?”

You nodded. “Same ones that kept filling up with egg shells and bread gone wrong. Thought it was another peddlar trying to get some scraps but his clothes caught me off guard.”

Naruhodou made a hum of agreement. “The suspect’s clothes are quite fashionable, aren’t they?”

The suspect next to you smirked at his compliment and puffed his collar. You had to physically stop yourself from breaking his fingers.

“His entire ensemble is from Claire and Frank’s boutique.” van Zieks added. “I should know, I am a frequent patron of theirs.”

If only, you thought solemnly to yourself as you remember your dull plainclothes back at home. If only people were just as well-off as the Reaper.

“In any case,” you brought the attention back, “it’s still a strange sight for a well-dressed stranger to be near a dump so…”

“I approached and asked him what was he doing there. Before he could answer, I saw the glint of a knife and then he lunged at me!”

“Hold it!” He said again, this time in urgency. “Were you alright?! Did he get you anywhere?!”

You made motions with your hands to calm him down. “Easy easy! I was trained to deal with blokes that pull a fast one on me so I disarmed him just as fast.”

“As expected of Scotland Yard!” The judge said. “And what did you do after you disarmed him?”

The click of a revolver flashed in your mind. His buddy cocking his gun to your forehead as his damn voice still made you punch your bedroom wall.

“… I disarmed him and stated that I was part of Scotland Yard. Because it was too dark, he thought that I was a mugger so he tried to defend himself.”

“It… was too dark?” Naruhodou repeated. “I thought the oil lamp next to the bakery’s door was lit?”

You cussed inwardly, eyes flitting to the man who had his smirk still on his face. He made a motion with his hand; Remember our deal.

“It… was lit.” You corrected yourself, silently berating yourself for having such an obvious slip-up. “I don’t know what’s up with the bloke, he probably has poor vision.”

The suspect made a gasp of offense before glaring at you. “Excuse you but my eyesight is perfectly fine! In fact, my eyesight is so perfect I could count exactly how many freckles His Honor has just from this distance!”

“The suspect shall do no such thing!” The judge exclaimed hastily.

Van Zieks stated your position then last name which immediately straightened your back. “Sir?”

“Do try to keep your stuttering out of your testimony.” He growled before giving you a cold glare. “Else I’ll keep you out of your job.”

You shivered. “Y-Yes sir…”

From your right, Naruhodou hummed before getting the attention of the court. “Your Honor, I request that the information where the lamp was lit be added to the testimony!”

Damn! You hoped that he didn’t catch on to your tell.

“The lamp on the wall was lit but that didn’t stop the bloke from swinging his knife at me!”

“Objection!” The defense yelled, his finger pointing at you. “Officer, you said the lamp was lit, am I correct?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “Y-Yes…”

“How strange…” He started, placing his index finger under his chin. “Because in this photo, the lamp appears to have been broken.”

Cripes!

“Broken?” His Honor questioned, bringing up the photo to his face again. “Why, it appears the glass has been shattered!”

Double cripes!

“Officer, what is the meaning of this?!” His honor exclaimed, furrowing his brows.

Your arms wound up below your chest, hands squeezing on your sleeves that you fear your fingernails can tear the cloth. The expenses to repair your coat doesn’t even cover the taste of iron that was in your tongue. You bit the inside of your cheek too hard and you didn’t even noticed it.

“I…” You gasped out. You tried to keep your focus away from the suspect or the rat man, but their annoying smirks were forever imprinted on your mind. You risked a glance at Naruhodou, whose face was beginning to become worried.

You stared at him, your eyes nearly watering and cocked your head to the suspect. You could only hope he got the message as you prepared yourself for your next move.

Whatever you were going to say would cost you your future either way.

“I stand by what I said.” You told the court with finality. “The lamp was lit. It didn’t matter that the glass was broken.”

And with that, the court went in an uproar. Men and women arguing on what you just said, the fact that an underdog of Scotland Yard would ignore a blatant fact. You didn’t care for their screams. You didn’t care for the glower van Zieks was giving you. You didn’t care for the triumphant smirk that the rats had on their faces.

What you did care was the future Naruhoudo had that you wanted to protect.

| Sherlock Holmes |

With a great detective as your lover, you thought that you had nothing to be afraid of.

You couldn’t help it. Even if it gets Tobias fuming, you had to admit that Sherlock emitted a charm that had you falling for. You fell in love with his theater of logic and reason (especially his fleeting touches whenever he slides near you before gliding off elegantly) and you fell in love with his little differences when he was alone with you.

Sherlock would always play his violin when you were around, the soft music gently swaying you to the music until you realize that Sherlock dropped his violin just to slow dance with you in his arms. You love him even more when you saw him taking care of Iris as best as he could until you stepped in, feeling your heart just swell at the warmth when you saw the three of you together like some weird family.

Which is why you cannot tell the entire court about this.

If people know about your relationship with the great detective, it would be the scandal of the century. If people were to find out about his and Iris’s relationship, it would be even more of a scandal than London’s most sought-out man is taken.

“… Officer? Officer can you hear me?”

You blinked out of your stupor when you heard the judge call your name. You were back in the courtroom, on the witness stand, where everyone has their eyes on you, especially him.

Rat bastard thinks its entertainment that you get to suffer standing there while he sits there scott-free. Said he owes the suspect u beat up at your beat and soon, you were the unfortunate soul who got trapped in his schemes. You could barely remember his threats on spreading your relationship to the court but you hoped that with Sherlock in this courtroom, he can point out your discomfort.

…

Who were you kidding. This is Sherlock Holmes. It’s gonna take him and Naruhoudo’s shared brain cell and Iris’s whole brain to figure this out.

“Sorry,” you said, “I’ll get to my testimony.”

You hoped that he was able to catch on.

“… They’re awfully nervous today, aren’t they?” Naruhoudo remarked to his mentor, noting how your eyes shifted from the suspect next to you to the audience of this court. He tried to follow your eyes but you were too fast to flick your sight back to front.

Sherlock hummed, his eyes flicking to your form. He had never seen you this jittery before even if it’s well-concealed. He could’ve brushed off Naruhoudo and said that you were nervous because your lover was watching you but he knew that wasn’t the case. You were the calm and collected other half to his fiery personality. He has you to thank for the times that he wanted to off himself and he would never stop his… addictions when you hadn’t stepped in.

You were the light of his darkest days. Back when Yujin Mikotoba left London and left Sherlock in a stifling darkness. You got him out of this darkness that he doesn’t know what to do if you were to ever go away.

That’s why when he notices you fidget with your sleeves, feet slightly shifting on the floor that he notices something was wrong. His mind racks to find any plausible answer but he can’t quite pinpoint on a good possibility.

He hates not knowing.

“Pish posh, Naruhodou!” He comforted the young man, tipping the brim of his hat. “I’m sure that them being in the same room as THE Sherlock Holmes is sending their heart pounding!”

At least, he hopes that’s just the reason.

[sheepishlyshippingsheep]

Izuocha prompt: Deku and Ochako ask for dating advice from Todoroki and Momo respectively. Both pairs decide to have Deku and Ochako go in to their next date with a hidden earpiece, with feed directly from Todoroki and Momo. Chaos ensues.

[Hello! Thank you so much for joining my birthday prompt. This one was more specific than I had expected but when I read this, I laughed out loud because of what I imagined. Hope you enjoy the following 1000+ words and the arts! I had super fun making these and got a bit carried away too!]

[For others, I am accepting requests until end of September and I hope you enjoy this post as well.]

“Compliment”

“To-todoroki-kun… Are you sure about this?”

“Yes.” A prompt and straightforward reply.

“You’re not?” his really calm and innocent (if Izuku must call it by the tone) follow-up coming from that pin-like device near the green-haired lad’s left ear somehow makes the latter more nervous than he should be or he should have been.

“Well…” Izuku does not even know how to piece together his response. Here he is bothering Shouto on his free day and he actually has the audacity to doubt his friend who offered to help him? Before he can fall to one of his rambling episodes–

“I’ll do it,” he manages to say.

"Okay.”

Designed by Mei Hatsume to easily blend with his green hair except for that small button sharing the same color as its inventor’s hair, Izuku marches to the café that he and Ochako decided to meet; wearing the hidden earpiece.

When he had asked the support course student if she had a spare communication device best for stealth missions that could possibly help him, the pink-haired was too ecstatic to help him even if he had not specified what he needed it for.

With no questions asked, Mei handed him the pin and an earpiece resembling an earplug which is supposed to be for the other line. Both devices look like toys especially with the striking pink color it had, he had noted when she showed it to him.

“This really cute pair of babies here are perf,” Izuku remembers her saying.

Mei is not the type to send some warnings about her ‘babies’ ( as he is both a witness and victim to the circumstances) and he just hopes that nothing is wrong with these transmitting devices.

Spotting the brown-haired girl seated already, Izuku barely feels his feet moving, too entranced by how she looks today to register his movements and surroundings.

There she is, in an unfamiliar pink dress that nonetheless suits her. 

The lad approaches the table, noting how her exposed shoulders jolt the slightest when he comes close. He could not help but feel the same line of nerves from those little reactions to his arrival.

However, when he finally sees her flushed face that is unable to look at him directly, Izuku forgets how to breathe for a second, if not for Shouto actually telling him to “Breathe, Midoriya.”

“Y-yeah,” he whispers back.

The tactic is simple: Have Shouto Todoroki guide no-girlfriend-since-birth Izuku on his very first date. What could possibly go wrong?

–

“Ya-yaomomo… Will this be really fine?” she asks in her softest voice, a couple of fingertips touching the clip near her right ear. Though the device was carefully Created by Momo to disguise itself as a hair clip that matched the clothes she had lent her, Ochako is pretty sure that talking to herself while seated in the cafe would make her look weird.

Or maybe, everything right now is just weird, because Ochako in her whole life never thought that Deku-kun, her crush, would ever ask her out on a date.

“There is no need to worry, Uraraka-san. All you have to do is to listen to what I have to say. Please try your best to calm down. I am here to help you.”

With a gulp, Ochako gives her an “Okay. Thank you so much” letting her left hand pat her chest. 

You’ll be fine, Ochako. Yaomomo taught you the way of the lady, remember?

Right. When Izuku asked her out the other day and left as a stuttering mess after hearing her say yes, Ochako had floated to the ceiling the moment he was out of the hallway. Coincidentally, Momo’s arrival at the scene marked her as the Zero-Gravity-quirk-user’s official savior – both for helping her come down and for offering to guide her on her first-ever date.

"Now is the best time to bring that smile out. Midoriya-san is here in six seconds.”

Lips numbing to a practiced smile, Ochako sits (too) straight, her hands forming to fists on her lap.

“I’m-I’m sorry I’m late Uraraka-san,” his shaky voice enters her ears with the very first thing he tells her. Ochako could not see how he looks right now, too nervous to actually meet his eyes - or his whole face for the matter. Brown eyes darted to the ground, she can see his iconic red shoes, twitching as he stands. If her peripheral vision is not deceiving her, she is pretty sure that he is wearing a vest that matches that crimson color. She sure hopes that warmth on her face is not as red though.

“I-it’s okay, don’t worry about it, Deku-kun!” The way his name passed by her lips seems to be too loud that some of the people inside the cafe had to give them the looks. She realizes this and ducks her head down. What a mess she already is and it’s just the start!

“Uraraka-san, be more natural.”

Ochako tries to follow the instruction upon hearing Momo. Somehow, her voice casts a magic spell of calm on her and she feels so lucky to have her as a friend.

“It is okay. Just breathe for a second.”

She smiles again, the warm air leaving her nose.

“Please… have a seat, Deku-kun.” Her tone comes out in a fancier voice than the usual her. Those vocalization exercises with Momo surely worked. Her smile is now directed to him.

“You are doing great, Uraraka-san.”

“O-of course… sorry!” She hears him say as he takes the seat in front of her.

Finally, their eyes meet.

–

“Compliment her.”

“Wh-what!?” The expression comes out of him when he hears Shouto.

“Eh?” Now that is Ochako whom he sees, slowly spelling out confusion on her face.

“Oh-oh no… I just heard some… birds… yeah. Hahahaha…” His awkward laughter comes out loud enough that it attracts different pairs of eyes to their table again. This time, chuckles are heard in the air.

“O-okay…” She responds meekly.

Now Izuku wants to smack his face. This is more difficult than he thought.

“Tell her.”

Izuku feels his lips freeze as if Shouto’s right side is doing its work. Well, now that he thinks about it, his body has been on the cold side for hours now as this event came closer by the hour.

“Yaoyorozu told me it is common courtesy to give compliments.”

The freckled boy is almost amazed because it seems that Shouto did his ‘research’ except that he actually does not have the time to be amazed right now. Izuku had panicked after finally managing to ask Ochako to go out somewhere and when he had been trying his best to hide from everyone how anxious he actually is, Shouto just dropped the bomb in front of all the boys while they were changing for the next class, “Did you ask Uraraka out, Midoriya?”

“No one told me we weren’t supposed to ask” was Shouto’s defense when Tenya had reprimanded him for just dropping it like that and “shattering Midoriya-kun’s honor.”

And so, the half-fire-half-ice-quirk user promised to help Izuku as a way to pay back.

Izuku hears a sigh from the device. “Midoriya. Repeat after me.”

“Uraraka.”

The freckled boy clears his throat.

“U-uraraka-san…”

Ochako stares at Izuku the moment he had called her. The way his face makes that serious expression as if she is the only thing that he is looking at right now catches her off guard. But why?

His hair is still in that fluffy green signature look. He is still wearing those favorite shoes of his. He may be wearing a vest that she has never seen him wear before, but other than that, this is still Deku-kun. So… why is her heart unable to calm down just as how Momo kept reminding her?

Is it because there is this light in his eyes that she cannot explain? Or is it because of those growing shades of pink on his cheeks, now fainting his freckles?

“Uraraka-san, remember. Grace.”

“Y-yes?” she finally answers as she awaits for him to speak again.

Izuku looks at Ochako, blinking his green eyes, waiting for Shouto’s words from the device, but also taking the moment to just take in her features

Sure, she looks a bit different, with the way her hair is styled by that hairpin and by that dress she is wearing. But whatever she wore, may it be Uravity’s costume or UA’s uniform sets, she had always looked–

Beautiful. He opens his mouth to say that one word–

“Your quirk is useful in rescue situations. It is a great fit for an aspiring hero.”

“Your quirk is useful in rescue situations. It’s a great fit for an aspiring hero.”

The moment he says that, Izuku Midoriya knew that asking for Shouto’s help was not a bright idea at all.

END

[omxriis]

               hi   guys      !      this   is   something   i’ve   been   tossing   back      &      forth   in   my   head   for   a   lil   bit   ,   but   the   fact   of   the   matter   is   that   my   muse   for   mari   was   starting   to   run   low   ,   but   i’m   a   mess      &      don’t   wanna   let   go   of   him   asdfjkns   ,   so   i   decided   to   revamp   him      !      or   more   accurately   ,   bring   old   mari   back      !      so   below   u   will   find   his   old   biography      (      thank   god   i   still   have   his   old   intro   up   sdfgkjfsd      )      as   well   as   a   little   update   bc   he   needs   smth   to   give   him   a   kick   up   the   ass   :/   this   shouldn’t   rly   affect   most   of   my   plots   but   if   u   would   like   to   plot   smth   w   him   ,   pls   let   me   know      !

&& .   announcing   his   royal   highness  ,      (      𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈   𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈   𝐙𝐔𝐋𝐔      )      ,   the      (      𝟑𝟎      )      year   old      (      𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍   𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄      )      of      (      𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐒𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐀      )      .   he   is   often   confused   with      (      𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐋   𝐁 .   𝐉𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐀𝐍      )      .   some   say   that   he   is      (      𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒      &      𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍      )      ,   but   he   is   actually      (      𝐃𝐄𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐑      &      𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐅𝐔𝐋      )      .

trigger   warnings   :   brief   mentions   of   death      &      illness   .

*    𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑰𝑺𝑻𝑪𝑺   .

𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋   𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄      &      𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒   :      omari      (      god   the   highest      )      malachi      (      my   angel      )      zulu      (      heaven      )      .

𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒    :      mar   ,   mari   .

𝐀𝐆𝐄   :      thirty   .

𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘   :      4th   of   august   .

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑   :      male   .

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐒   :      he   /   him   .

𝐙𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐂   :      leo   af   .

𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐎𝐍   :      christian   .

𝐎𝐂𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍   :      crown   prince   of   botswana      (      self   -   proclaimed   professional   pain   in   the   ass      )      .

𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒   :      writing   ,   reading   ,   being   in   social   situations   ,   solving   problems   ,   traveling   ,   annoying   his   siblings   .

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒   :      loud   eaters   ,   obnoxious   people   ,   big   insects   ,   being   responsible   for   his   actions   .

*    𝑨𝑬𝑺𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑻𝑰𝑪𝑺   .

bare   feet   in   mornings   ,   neatly   folded   clothes   ,   an   organised   shoe   closet   ,   messy   sheets      &      an   unmade   bed   ,   missed   calls   at   2am   ,   highlighted   passages   in   a   book   ,   dogeared   pages   ,   unanswered   texts   ,   tucked   in   shirts   ,   unfinished   books   ,   warm   tea   ,   warm   jumpers   from   the   dryer   ,   odd   ceramic   mugs   ,   hidden   springs   of   water   ,   worn   out   military   boots   ,   fallen   leaves   during   autumn   ,   poetry   at   midnight   ,   sleepy   morning   voice   ,   unsent   letters   .

*   𝑩𝑰𝑶𝑮𝑹𝑨𝑷𝑯𝒀   .

               when   botswana   gained   its   independence   in   1966   ,   it   seemed   as   if   things   were   going   well   .   the   democracy   they   had   built   was   stable      &      it   appeared   as   if   the   land - locked   country   had   no   problems   ,      &      for   a   while   it   hadn’t   but   after   a   few   years   the   peace   in   the   government   started   to   dwindle   .   too   many   people   wanting   too   much   power   ,   somebody   said   .   they   jumped   in   feet   first   without   any   real   clue   how   to   run   a   country   ,   said   another   .   but   over   time   the   uninterrupted   tranquility   became   obsolete   .   botswana   was   slowly   going   down   a   sinkhole   until   1985   ,   when   the   south   african   king   titled   his   eldest   son   ,   arno   zulu   ,   the   king   of   botswana   .

                the   change   shook   the   botswanian   government   to   the   core   ,   a   change   that   it   needed   .   at   first   the   people   of   botswana   weren’t   sure   how   to   react      —      this   new   monarchy   was   something   nobody   had   expected   .   but   the   newly   crowned   king   had   ambition      &      he   had   stride   .   he   had   a   set   vision      &      a   set   plan   to   follow   ,   all   the   while   he   was   kind   to   his   people      &      a   fair   ruler   .   it   didn’t   take   as   long   as   he   expected   for   the   botswanians   to   settle   under   his   rule      (      not   being   given   the   south   african   throne   was   a   huge   knock   on   his   confidence   as   a   royal      )      so   the   speed   his   country   settled   was   comforting   .

                however   ,   the   king   could   never   forgive   his   father   for   throwing   away   his   right   to   the   throne      &      instead   promised   it   to   the   youngest   of   the   zulu   heirs   .   this   bitterness   ,   however   subsided   into   a   more   a   more   subtle   distaste   as   he   settled   into   his   new   role      &      a   short   few   years   later   ,   he   was   married   to   a   libyan   princess      &      not   too   long   after   that   ,   she   fell   pregnant   with   their   first   child   .   the   pregnancy   wasn’t   easy      ;      there   were   a   few   complications   along   the   way   but   after   only   8   months   of   carrying   him   ,   omari   malachi   zulu   was   born   .

                omari   wasn’t   by   any   standards   an   extraordinary   baby   .   his   birth   was   easy   ,   all   things   considered   but   as   the   first   born   child   of   the   king   of   botswana   ,   he   had   responsibilities   he   never   even   knew   he   had   .   the   country   accepted   him   with   open   arms      &      celebrated   his   birth   in   an   ornate   fashion   .   after   all   ,   he   was   the   first   born   child   of   their   first   king   .   streets   were   decorated   with   the   botswanian   flag      &      music   filled   the   streets   for   days   after   .   the   prince   was   a   vision   ,   as   many   called   him   .   he   looked   strikingly   similar   to   his   father   ,   even   small   features   like   the   dimples   in   his   cheeks      &      the   crease   between   his   eyebrows   as   he   smiled   .   for   months   botswana   was   full   of   joy      &      that   joy   started   to   bring   the   country   back   into   the   state   of   peace   they   had   at   the   very   start   of   their   independence   .

                   the   birth   of   their   future   king   gave   them   hope   .   stability   .      &      in   turn   they   treated   their   leaders   with   grace      &      kindness   ,   living   in   harmomy   .   it   was   almost   idyllic      ;      omari   grew   up   in   a   world   where   everyone   was   at   peace   as   opposed   to   just   a   few   years   before   he   was   born   .   he   had   everything   he   wanted      &      was   treated   with   respect   ,   so   he   treated   his   people   with   respect   in   return   .   he   grew   up   in   a   loving   household   ,   full   of   books      &      all   the   learning   tools   a   young   heir   could   need   ,      &      although   his   professor   was   hard   on   him   ,   omari   did   not   let   this   harden   him   .

                as   a   child   he   had   always   been   a   free   -   spirit      ;      he   was   intrigued   by   the   idea   of   traveling      &      had   read   about   all   the   places   in   the   books   from   the   palace’s   library      &      from   strangers   who   had   stayed   at   the   palace   in   passing   .   he   was   quite   content   ,   he   had   a   certain   mischievousness   which   often   caught   the   guards   out      &      a   long   string   of   jokes   that   could   keep   people   laughing   for   days   .   however   ,   for   a   child   living   in   such   a   large   expanse   it   was   incredibly   lonely   ,   so   it’s   to   be   expected   that   when   his   brother   was   born   ,   omari   was   over   the   moon   .

                the   pair   were   like   two   peas   in   a   pod      ;      where   you’d   see   one   ,   you’d   no   doubt   see   the   other   following   not   too   far   behind   .   they   grew   close   quickly      &      omari   was   fiercely   loyal   to   his   younger   brother   .   however   ,   much   like   any   ordinary   older   sibling   he   could   be   difficult   .   although   he   wasn’t   nasty   ,   he   was   a   bit   of   a   tyrant   .   causing   ruckus      &      playing   pranks   on   his   brother   was   omari’s   favourite   pastimes      &      although   they   had   their   disagreements   ,   he   did   it   with   love      &      there   was   very   little   omari   wouldn’t   do   for   him   .

                when   his   brother   was   born   ,   omari   learned   a   lesson   in   sharing   .   when   his   sister   was   born   ,   he   learned   a   lesson   in   protection   .   growing   up   he   was   educated   on   how   to   run   a   country   successfully      &      how   to   be   a   good   king   ,   but   nobody   taught   him   how   to   be   a   good   brother   .   sometimes   he   could   be   intolerant   to   who   he’d   often   call   the   ‘ bonus   zulu   children ’   just   to   irritate   them   ,   but   despite   his   annoying   habits   his   siblings   were   his   best   friends   .   they   filled   the   empty   void   that   would   otherwise   still   be   hollow   in   the   palace      &      on   stressful   days   ,   they’d   be   the   ones   to   aid   him   in   unwinding   .

                the   pressures   of   becoming   king   one   day   didn’t   truly   hit   full   force   until   he   hit   his   teenage   years   .   he   was   expected   to   set   a   prime   example   not   only   for   his   country   but   also   his   siblings   ,      &    although   he   did   a   good   job   at   being   generally   liked   by   his   peers    &      the   like   ,   he   realised   soon   enough   he’d   have   to   get   out   there      &      represent   his   country   ,   so   that’s   what   he   did   .   he   started   travelling   the   world      &      meeting   new   people      &      after   a   while   ,   he   went   to   college   .   someone   had   briefly   suggested   a   college   in   portugal   so   he   decided   to   go   there   ,   studying   literature      &      modern   language   .

                it   was   here   where   he   met   barbara   de   bragança   ,   being   in   college   at   the   same   time   as   she   was   getting   her   degree   .   due   to   his   royal   status   he   was   invited   to   stay   at   her   college   home      &      after   taking   the   opportunity   ,   the   two   quickly   became   close   friends   .   he   completed   his   education   in   portugal   before   he   jetted   off   to   carry   on   exploring   the   world   ,   however   he   never   lost   touch   with   barbie      &      he   started   to   become   more   responsible   as   he   prepared   to   one   day   be   king   .   while   on   his   travels   he   learned   a   lot   about   different   cultures      &      could   strike   up   a   conversation   with   anyone   over   anything   .

                give   or   take   a   few   years    &      his   family   asked   him   to   get   engaged   to   the   princess   of   hungary   ,   fanni   croÿ   .   the   arrangement   was   strange   given   they   already   had   a   history   but   due   to   it   being   for   the   benefit   of   botswana   he   agreed      &      then   they   were   engaged   .   however   ,   just   as   they   were   starting   to   figure   things   out   the   engagement   was   called   off      &      out   of   his   confusion   ,   omari   took   off   without   a   word   to   anyone      &      has   been   m.i.a   ever   since   ,   only   keeping   in   touch   with   a   short   selection   of   people   .

*     𝑷𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑶𝑵𝑨𝑳𝑰𝑻𝒀   .

omari   is   a   lover   of   adventure      &      experiencing   new   things   .   people   might   call   him   a   thrill   seeker   ,   but   he   just   believes   that   a   life   without   experiencing   everything   you   can   isn’t   a   life   worth   living   .   he   enjoys   learning   new   things      &    is   always   keen   on   hearing   different   opinions   to   benefit   his   own   ,   however   he   can   come   across   as   being   quite   opinionated   when   it   comes   to   his   own   thoughts      &    he’s   not   afraid   to   speak   his   mind   ,   which   sometimes   got   him   into   trouble   when   he   was   younger   but   has   earned   him   great   respect   as   he   grew   older   .

                in   general   ,   omari   is   kind      &      thoughtful   .   he’s   been   influenced   a   lot   by   his   father’s   way   of   ruling   the   country      &      is   a   firm   believer   that   you   should   treat   people   the   way   you   expect   to   be   treated   ,   but   he’s   not   afraid   to   stand   his   ground   when   he   needs   to   or   protect   those   that   he’s   closest   to   .   when   it   comes   to   his   family      &    his   close   friends   ,   omari   will   go   to   the   ends   of   the   earth   for   them   even   if   it   was   just   to   bring   them   a   pretzel   from   europe   .   he   values   them   a   lot      &      is   extremely   loyal   to   them   .

                however   ,   omari   can   be   quite   flaky      &      fickle   .   when   it   comes   to   making   decisions   regarding   his   country   ,   he’s   very   clever   in   his   approach    &    makes   sure   it’s   the   best   decision   but   when   it   comes   to   his   personal   life   ,   he’s   not   very   good   at   all      &      often   has   to   seek   advice   from   other   people   just   to   make   the   correct   decision   .   he   dislikes   situations   that   are   too   messy   ,   which   is   one   of   the   few   reservations   he   has   about   being   king   because   he   knows   he’ll   be   stuck   in   some   but   he’s   working   on   his   habit   of   fleeing   before   the   situation   gets   too   bad      &   instead   striving   to   resolve   them   .

                he   can   be   pretty   mischievous   ,   since   when   he   was   younger   he’d   often   play   pranks   on   the   guards      &    his   siblings   just   to   ,   as   he   used   to   say   ‘ pass   the   time ’   so   although   he’s   someone   you   can   trust   with   your   secrets   ,   he’s   not   someone   you   can   trust   not   to   scare   the   living   daylights   out   of   you   the   next   chance   he   gets   .   he   loves   to   have   fun      &    is   slightly   worried   that   when   he   becomes   king   all   the   fun   he’s   having   now   will   no   longer   exist   ,   but   following   in   his   father’s   footsteps   is   something   he’s   always   been   keen   in   doing      &      seeing   how   well   he’s   doing   pushes   him   to   do   the   same   .

                although   his   father   isn’t   so   bothered   anymore   by   the   fact   that   he   was   ,   as   omari   sees   it   thrown   to   the   side   for   his   younger   brother   ,   omari   is   extremely   bitter   about   it   .   even   though   he   loves   botswana      &      its   people   ,   he   still   heavily   believes   that   since   his   father   is   the   oldest   of   the   zulu   heirs   ,   he’s   rightfully   in   line   for   the   south   african   throne   so   the   fact   that   his   uncle   ,   who’s   little   over   ten   years   older than   him   never   fails   to   stir   up   troubling   thoughts      &      now   that   his   grandfather   has   fallen   ill   ,   he   sees   this   as   an   opportunity   to   start   conflict   with   his   uncle   .

*   𝑼𝑷𝑫𝑨𝑻𝑬   .

ok   i’m   literally   just   gonna   bullet   point   the   things   that   have   changed   for   him   bc   i’m   too   lazy   to   go   back      &      edit   this   entire   bio   sdfkjdnsjkg

but   u   guys   already   know   gramps   is   dead   ,   which   means   ayo   is   king   ,   which   means   the   cousins   failed   in   their   attempts   smh

mari   was   slightly   bitter   after   the   coronation   ,   but   it   only   lasted   for   a   short   while   ,   bc   news   hit   him   that   his   father   wasn’t   very   well   ,   which   meant   that   mari   would   have   to   step   up      &      do   more

i’m   gonna   say   to   save   confusion   that   he   just   wasn’t   doing   enough   .   he   rarely   got   involved   with   political   moves   ,   so   that’s   crucial   now   since   his   father   can’t   cope   as   usual

so   i   don’t   rly   know   how   this   will   affect   him   ,   it’ll   either   make   him   kick   his   ass   into   gear      &      do   shit   with   his   life   or   he’ll   get   so   stressed   he’ll   have   a   break   down

WHO   KNOWS

[themusicplayedherlife]

Full House

2. “Why am I here, anyways?” & 3. “And who are you again?”

pairing: steve rogers x reader

characters: reader, jemma s., daisy , elena r., mysterious stranger?!

word count: 1.8k

summary: i’ve combined ch 2 &3 because why not? thank you guys for the interest in the first chapter ;w; i wasnt really expecting much, but just knowing some of you like it was really heart warming ;w;

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The liquid sloshes back and forth as you twirl the glass in your hand before throwing it back. You ignore the burning in your throat and slam the glass back down for another refill.

“Wow. Been a while since you’ve pounded back a straight shot of vodka,” Daisy whispers bewilderedly, bottle of squirt in one hand and another glass of the clear liquor in the other.

She’s not the only one staring at you like that; Jemma is too. She blinks owlishly as she says, “Their divorce must be really bothering you.”

Elena pushes back Daisy’s arm holding the soda, stopping it from over filling her cup. “No shit,” she mumbles earning a swift slap to the arm from Jemma.

“It’s not the divorce that’s bothering me, it’s the fact they got one without any one of us noticing!” You assert, more forcefully than intended and swipe the bottle of vodka from Daisy’s hand to fill your cup. “Someone from the courthouse would have told us!”

Jemma winces as you once more throw back another—or maybe three—shots of vodka. She gently coaxes the bottle out of your hand and you let her take it from you. “Right, maybe let’s take these slow? You and vodka don’t exactly mix well.”

You slump in your seat. “Two years. Two fucking years and they tell us now?”

“Did they tell you why they hid it for so long?” Jemma asks soothingly, trying to ease your frayed emotions.

“No,” you say with an exhale. “They didn’t get the chance to because we had to rush to the emergency room.”

“What? Why? Are your parents okay? Why didn’t you call us?” Jemma asks.

“They’re fine,” you say. “It was Michael who got hurt. He was playing with the girls and saw that Cassie was about to fall into the pond and broke her fall. Got a mean fracture in his foot.”

Daisy takes a sip of her drink. “Yikes!” You nod, rubbing your left arm. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. Going to be in a cast for a while, though.”

Jemma grimaces. “Tough. So your parents weren’t in the mood to explain after that or...?”

You sigh, eyes roaming away from your friends. “No, my parents stayed home while the rest of us went with Clint and his family to the hospital.” And that was yesterday

Elena perks up at that, pausing mid drink to narrow her eyes. “You just left your parents alone at the house after that bomb?”

You wince at the accusatory tone in her voice; that’s exactly what you did.

It was a complete mess.

Everyone was running around like a bunch of chickens with their heads cut off. Michael and Cassie were crying and apologizing to each other all the while Lulu was cackling. It took Natasha delegating for everyone to finally get their heads on straight and get everyone out the door. Well, almost everyone.

“We’re coming with you!” Your dad had said, moving quickly to grab his keys off of the rack on the wall.

“No!” You startled at the force behind Clint’s voice. Your eyes wide as you stared at your older brother’s stern expression. It had taken you completely off guard. He was usually so calm and collected, never letting things get to him.

“But—“ Your mom started, hoping to convince him.

“No,” he repeated, voice softer, but strained. “You can’t just-“ he lets out a frustrated sigh-“ we need time to process what you just told us and we can’t do that when you’re hovering over us. Right now, the most important thing is focusing on Michael.”

“Clint—“

He turned away from them and all you could do was follow after him, ignoring your parents with a heavy heart.

“We’ll see you at the hospital,” Pietro told them after they settled in the car with Natasha as the driver, Clint in shotgun, and the kids in the back with Scott. The three of you waited until the black SUV pulled out of the driveway before heading towards Pietro’s beat up corolla.

“Kids…” Your mom‘s worried voice caused you to pause, unsure whether to answer or not. Were you guys being unfair to your parents? Maybe. But Clint was right. All of you needed time to process the situation, and them being around you would not help at all.

You shared a glance with the twins and with a reluctant sigh, Wanda turned to them with a neutral smile and said, “I’ll… I’ll call you later to update you guys.”

Still, needing time to process doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt turning your back on your parents.

You steal Elena’s drink before she can take a sip and down it, the bubbly drink mixed with vodka making it hard to swallow. “It’s all types of fucked up, isn’t it?”

You feel heavy, body leaning right and then left, never being able to stay straight. Your head is in the clouds and all you can picture is home where your family is waiting for you. “Home,” you whisper. But you’re not home, you’re in a cold place, where the seating is uncomfortable and you’ve hit your head on something sturdy a couple of times.

“Are you okay?” Worry laced into a deep voice asks. He sounds nice, warm even. Is it dad? Or maybe one of your brothers? He repeats his question, a little louder and even more worried.

“Yes. No. Maybe,” you whine. “I don’t know.”

He asks you something else, but you can’t really hear him. There’s a buzzing in your ear that overtakes you and you can’t help but let it sway you. It’s a sweet lullaby.

“Why am I here, anyway?” you ask the air. When you should be home in your bed and warm.

The last thing you feel are warm arms wrapping around you.

Groaning, you turn under the heavy restraint of a blanket. Your head is pounding; your eyes heavy as you try your best to open them against the warm rays filtering into your room. You give up. Pulling the blanket over your head, you’re suddenly engulfed by a woodsy smell—pine? Sandalwood? Ugh. No. Not thinking about it. Head hurts.

A gentle knock at the door makes you groan again. It opens with a soft creak and heavy footfalls against carpet register in your brain.

“Pietro,” you croak. “I swear to god, if you try and pick me up, I will not hesitate to hit you in the groin.”

A chuckle that definitely doesn’t sound like your brother’s responds to your mild threat and it’s enough to have you throwing the blanket off of you and sitting up quickly. Which you immediately regret. Greatly.

Rubbing at your temple, a cup of water and a hand holding out aspirin appear in your line of vision. “Here, these might help.”

With a low thank you, you take them from the stranger and throw back the small pill and chug down all of the water. It’s a nice welcome to your parched throat. “You didn’t poison me did you?”

He laughs. “Shouldn’t you have asked that before taking it?”

You shrug. “I was desperate.” Finally looking up, your tired eyes are blessed by a beautiful man; and you’re not exaggerating. He’s gorgeous! Sandy blonde hair, baby blue eyes, chiseled face covered in scruff; delicious muscular build wrapped in a red Henley and black joggers. You gasp, eyes widening. Have you died and gone to heaven? How else would you have managed to land in his bed?

His smile wavers, eyes narrowing with worry. “You okay?”

You blink once, then twice as he waits patiently for you to speak up. “Oh, uh, yeah, I’m fine. But uh, who are you again? And how did I get-” you look around the simple room with wooden furniture and little knickknacks here and there-“here?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “I’m Steve. Steve Rogers. I found you half passed out on the stairs.”

“Stairs?” Oh, shit. You were at Daisy’s weren’t you? And you got hammered! Fuck! Wanda and Pietro must be worried sick! “My phone!”

You slap the bedding, searching frantically for your phone.

“It’s on the bedside table,” he suddenly says. At his words, you practically flung yourself to grab it, finding it connected to a charger. “I wanted to call a friend or order you an Uber or something but I realized it was dead.”

Relief fills you when you disconnect it from the charger and it turns on with a simple click. “Thank you.” Slowly, but surely, your phone begins to vibrate with incoming messages and voicemails.

Steve whistles in amazement as your phone goes off with notifications. “Wow. Your friends must be worried about you.”

Your face blanches as you read through the messages.

Wanda:

Hey, I know you’re at Daisy’s, but let me know if you’re going to stay over or if you need a ride.

Pietro:

wanda and i r worried lil sis! call us soon

Daisy:

Home yet?

Ugh drunk

Call me towmr

Can’t spell bye

Clint:

You okay? Wanda just texted to ask if you’re over at my place, and obviously you’re not. Getting a little worried here.

The Nest

Wanda:

Still not answering her phone!

Clint:

Have you tried calling Daisy?

Scott:

U think she’s lashing out? Finally hitting her rebellious stage?

Pietro:

she’s not you, scott

Wanda:

Yes! She said they all saw her schedule an Uber

Scott:

Ouch!

Wanda:

Everything after that is apparently a blur

That’s not funny, Scott!!!!!!!!!!!!

Should we call the police?

File a report?

Pietro just said we can’t because it hasn’t been more than 24 hours

Clint:

I’ll go look for her

Wanda:

Pietro and I’ll go with you

Scott:

Luis isn’t home, can’t leave Cassie, keep me updated

“Fuck,” you exclaim, jumping out of bed. “Shoes, shoes, shoes!”

“They’re by the entrance—“

You don’t let him finish, you’re already zooming past him and out into the small corridor connected to his kitchen and living room. You almost topple over his neat furniture, but somehow manage to keep yourself upright.

Just as Steve said, your flats are by the entrance, next to a full shoe rack. Slipping on your shoes, you order an Uber through the app—fuck! Your history says you did schedule an Uber last night! But if your phone died and you stayed inside, then… fuck me! You really need to stop drinking vodka.

“Be careful,” you hear Steve say as you open the door. “No more sleeping in staircases!

“No promises,” you answer back, turning around to find him leaning against his kitchen counter with an amused smile. “Thank you for not being a creep!”

The Nest

You:

Guys! I am so sorry! I’m on my way home now! But I promise I’m okay!

Clint:

You are in so much trouble!

Pietro:

look at that, baby sis is alive after all

Wanda:

You almost gave me a heart attack!

You:

I am so sorry!

Scott:

So

Did you finally rebel? You did, didn’t you?! Proud of you little troublemaker you!

Wanda disliked “Did you finally rebel? You did, didn’t you...”

Pietro disliked “Did you finally rebel? You did, didn’t you...”

Clint disliked “Did you finally rebel? You did, didn’t you...”

Scott:

It was a joke!!!!!!!

[swlbarnes]

Self Care Isn’t Selfish - Sam Winchester x Reader

Summary: Sam refuses to take care of himself, so you finally decide to intervene.

Pairing: (established) Sam Winchester x Reader

Word count: ~2.2k

Warnings: classic winchester refusal of self care and rest, fluff fluff and more fluff

A/N: basically I like to mess around on ambient mixer and I ended up making an atmosphere for getting some rest with sammy. this is the quick lil result of me listening to that while writing! For best results with this oneshot, pls CLICK HERE to listen to the atmosphere while you read! Headphones recommended :) ALSO i should say! thank you so much for 100 followers!! thank u thank u thank u!

All it took was one more yawn from Sam for you to make up your mind. Just one.

For days now you had watched the younger Winchester continue to push himself past his limits. The hunts had been nonstop for weeks now as Sam repeatedly threw himself into his work with no mind for his own well being. Only within the past two weeks had you noticed the biggest changes, specifically in his sleeping and dietary habits. Your shared bed with the man had become too large as of late, too cold in his absence night after night. Each time you would wake up and find the other side of the bed empty, you would pad out the door and down to the library, where you would always find Sam with his face buried in another old lore book. Your pleas for him to come back to bed with you were always brushed off as if they were nothing, him constantly insisting that he was okay and he was getting enough rest.

“I’m fine,” he would insist, the slur of his words a clear indication of his drowsy state. “I’m a hunter, I’ve worked on less sleep than this before.”

He was lying. You knew it, Dean knew it, Castiel knew it, and surely Sam himself knew it. What was causing him to act this way you couldn’t say for sure, but whatever it was, you wanted to stop it in its tracks. His newfound habits were taking quite the toll on him both physically and mentally. Yourself and the Winchester brothers weren’t exactly known for having the most well rested faces in the world, but the dark circles taking residence under Sam’s eyes were worrying even to you. His body slumped far more than it usually did, and his boot clad feet could be heard dragging against the library floor all the way from the kitchen. His usually well kept hair lost its style days ago, instead now poking out every which way from atop his drooping head.

Sam’s finger trailed over the faded Latin text lazily. His eyes were hazy and unfocused, squinting and squeezing shut every few seconds as if to clear the film of exhaustion away. One hand rested against his forehead, arm crooked at the elbow and leaning on the table to hold his head up. You watched in frustration as his eyes drifted closed every few minutes before snapping back open with a start. You turned your attention to the older of the brothers to find that he, too, had a scowl forming on his lips at the sight. This was how you knew that it was surely getting bad; if Dean Winchester, the master of self care avoidance, was judging your self care habits, then you had a problem. Sam was to that point.

Your boyfriend’s mouth opened wide in yet another yawn, and that was the final straw that had you standing up abruptly. The distinct screech of chair legs across the bunker floor caused Sam’s head to snap upwards to look at you in confusion. You made your way over to the plaid flannel clad man in a few quick strides, stopping next to him to grab the book from his hands.

“Hey!” He cried out, his hands reaching for the tome but the rest of his body making no move to pursue it further. “I need that, I was researching!”

You gave him a simple shake of your head as you snatched his notes from the table top as well, stuffing them into the book to mark his page before closing it and placing it on the table behind you, just out of his reach. You crossed your arms across your chest and leaned against the dark wooden surface. “No way I’m giving you that book back, Sam.”

“Well, why not? We have work to do. I can’t exactly work without that book,” he argued, arms crossing over his chest as well to mirror your stance. Your eyes rolled up at the ceiling in frustration.

“Yeah, about that. No, you’re not gonna work on this. We,” you paused to motion your hand between yourself and Dean, “are going to finish this up. Cas too. You, however, are going to get some rest. I’m sick and tired of watching you push yourself like this when you’re clearly suffering. We can handle this, I promise. Just focus on taking care of yourself.”

Your insistent tone did little to coerce the stubborn man into taking a well deserved break. His eyes flickered back and forth between you and his brother. Dean returned his gaze with a look that absolutely screamed for Sam to agree to the arrangement and get some sleep, but this, too, didn’t get through to him.

Sam shook his head. “I can’t. I can’t leave you three to work on this all alone. You guys are tired too. I’ve been doing this my whole life, I can handle it,” he insisted. He reached behind you to grab his book back, only for you to press your hand down over the cover and slide the volume across the table to Dean, who anticipated this action and caught it without glancing away from his notes. You turned back to Sam with a triumphant smile. The expression he met you with was far from impressed.

“Seriously?” He deadpanned. You quirked a brow.

“Seriously.”

Silence settled over the library for a moment as the pair of you continued to stare each other down. No one dared to break the moment until the familiar flutter of wings interrupted your stare off. “Dean, I was wondering if you- oh,” Castiel’s deep timbre paused momentarily as his eyes settled on you and Sam, or, more particularly, Sam’s hunched over form. The seraph furrowed his brows at the sight. “Why is Sam still here?” His question was abrupt and to the point, as things usually were when coming from the angel’s mouth, but it was valid nonetheless.

Sam threw his hands in the air in exasperation. “Seriously?” He clamored, brows knit together by an invisible thread of frustration. “Why does everyone keep insisting I shouldn’t be working? I am perfectly fine!” His exclamation was punctuated quite indicatively by the all encompassing yawn his mouth formed directly after he finished speaking. Tears pricked in the corners of his eyes from the reflex, and once he cleared his vision, he was met with three sets of unimpressed eyes. A scowl formed on his face, and he found himself shaking his head dismissively once again. “Whatever. That was nothing. You just got it in my head, that’s all!”

You scoffed and brought a hand down on his shoulder to gain his attention. “Babe, come on. You’re running on fumes, and you have been for a while now. We can all see that you need a break, and there’s never been a better time than now. This research isn’t time sensitive, and either way, it’s really not that much.  I know that if the roles were reversed, and I was in your situation, that you wouldn’t let up until I finally gave in and took care of myself. Let me do that for you, okay?” Your hand trailed down his arm so you could give his bicep a reassuring squeeze.

The hunter cast his eyes downwards momentarily, clearly lost in thought. Castiel’s shuffling around the room paused once he noticed the change in the atmosphere, much to your relief. Sam’s lips parted and shut repeatedly before he finally worked up the courage to speak. “Could you,” he began, pausing to cough when he realized how strained and broken his voice sounded. “Could you lay with me?” Concerned hazel eyes flickered up to peer at you through tousled strands of brown hair. His fear of impending rejection shone clear as day on his face like a bright neon sign, calling attention to the tug of his brows and the slight pout of his bottom lip like a blaring siren.

You felt your features visibly soften at the sight of the man you loved so much in such a vulnerable state. With a small, comforting smile, you nodded your head in agreement before tugging carefully at the sleeve of his flannel shirt in an effort to coax him out of his chair. Slowly but surely, he raised to his feet and allowed you to lead him over to the old leather couch in the corner of the library. You knew he wouldn’t let you take him all the way to his room in fear of missing any big breakthroughs in the day’s research, so for the time being, the surprisingly comfortable cushions the Men of Letters left behind would have to do.

You urged him to settle down however he pleased, which in the end seemed to be with his head propped against the arm of the couch and his body lounging across its length. One of his feet sat flat on the floor while the other splayed out over the other chair arm, dangling precariously in the air. Once he got everything to his liking, he turned his exhaustion laden eyes to you to peer at you through heavy lids. He reached his arms out and made grabby hands in your direction like a child would to his favorite stuffed animal, causing you to chuckle. The sound put a lopsided grin on the hunter’s face.

“C’mere,” he insisted, keeping his arms outstretched towards you.

You shook your head with a smile. “I don’t think we’re both gonna fit on that couch, big guy.”

“Trust me,” he coaxed. “I got it, just c’mere.”

You took a tentative step towards him and placed yourself within arm’s reach of the man. In an instant, he pulled you towards him at the waist and maneuvered your body so that you were laying on top of him. Your head rested comfortably on his chest just over his heart. One of his arms wrapped around your waist while his other hand buried itself in the hair at the back of your head, serving to hold your head in place as well as trace lazy circles on your scalp. Your legs tangled together and the smell of Sam’s favorite body wash and shampoo combination curled around you like a warm blanket.

His chest rose and fell with each steady breath he took, the motions serving to lull you into a restful state alongside the ever comforting beating of his heart beneath your ear. You were vaguely aware of Dean’s continued research endeavors in the background. The clack of keyboard keys and the turning of old book pages registered only as well as the soft flutter of wings that arose every so often as Castiel popped in and out of the library in search of the information he required. In all truth, none of that really mattered to you when you were curled up in Sam’s arms.

Slowly but surely, Sam’s movements began to slow. The circles his finger tips traced over your skin became sloppier and sloppier until they finally ceased altogether. His breathing evened out and his whole form relaxed with well needed rest. Only once you were sure he was asleep did you risk a glance up at him.

His grip on your waist tightened with your movements, only causing you to smile and slow your motions enough that his brain wouldn’t register them. You peeked up at his sleeping face, a lazy grin on your features at the sight. He looked so much… younger like this. His skin was smooth and free of any worry lines from the day to day stressors. His eyelashes shadowed over his cheekbones, leading your eyes down to his relaxed jawline and the small pout tugging at his slightly parted lips. His hair was as wild as ever, but you knew that as soon as he woke up he would run a single hand through it and manage to look utterly flawless, which you always found infuriating. Then he would look at you with a sleepy, lopsided smile and rub at one eye with the heel of his hand, greeting you with his gravelly morning voice, and you would realize you couldn’t stay mad at him for very long. It was an endless cycle, and you were prepared to go through it every single day if he would allow you.

You turned your eyes to Dean, who sat in the same place he had been all day, laptop opened in front of him, face illuminated by the blue tinted glow. Only now, the corners of his lips were tugging upwards in a ghost of a smile. His own emerald gaze flickered upwards to peer at you over the top of his screen, green hued eyes softening as a genuine smile broke out on his face. A small part of you felt relieved that he wasn’t annoyed with the way you had left him to research alone, but the rest of you was simply in awe of the sight of Dean Winchester’s genuine happiness.

“Thank you,” he mouthed to you in earnest.

“Always,” came your reply.

And with that, you rested your head on Sam’s chest once again, and allowed his heartbeat to lull you into a peaceful sleep.

[twogyus]

Apart, Then Together Again; [Lee Taeyong]

Prompt: You and Taeyong make up after taking a break.

Genre: hurt/comfort, romance, angst

Warning(s): smut

Word Count: 3.7k

                                                 Not to your surprise, but you spend what is supposed to be your anniversary with Taeyong, thinking about Taeyong. You reminisce about how happy you had been when the two of you were together. How miserable you were now that you had spent so much time apart. Where not seeing him wasn’t anything new, having no words exchanged was. The longest you had gone without physical contact had been two and a half months, but until recently the longest you had gone without speaking to him was a week. A busy schedule rarely kept you from sparking a conversation.

 Sadly, the image of Taeyong that you conjure up is of him frowning at you like a wet cat, and you were the one who threw him in the bath. The crease in his brow looked as if it were etched into stone, a permanent fixture. Had you really ruined everything you worked so hard to maintain with Taeyong? Were the nights spent checking in on him and reassuring him of your feelings despite his absence pointless? His struggling to find times for you to have secret meetings and rushed lunch dates useless? It was likely, you mused, but as you pick up your phone and swipe to call him, you hope that is not the case.

 You call three times before he picks up. He’s monotone and short with all of his replies, but he does tell you he has time to spare later in the evening. You tell him you will come to the dorms and that you are happy he agreed meeting. He hangs up first. Your phone buzzes in your palm minutes later, causing you to lose your bubble popping game.

 Flipping through channels on your small television you at last find the channel your friend told you to tune in to. On screen are two young MCs, casual in their looks despite the groups dressed to the nines behind them. Among them you quickly pick out NCT U with their black ensembles and red accessories. So that was why he took so long in picking up your call. That was why he denied meeting you in an hour’s time. He had been performing. He wasn’t just ignoring you again.

 You keep the program on for background noise as you continue your game, only pausing to see the winners let out joyous shouts and thank their fans. Taeyong smiles politely, but you note he looks troubled. He’s usually genuinely pleased for whoever wins over him, but today seems different. You decide against bringing it up later. Pointing it out probably won’t do any good. Won’t better anything, you think. Your goal is to make things better, You won’t say anything if it won’t make your situation have a better outcome, you promise yourself.

One of the kids from Dream ushers you inside, he greets you politely before scampering away. You can hear a loud bunch of them off in someone’s room, arguing about someone cheating on a game. Mark enters your vision, he smiles.

 “Mark, I haven’t seen you in a while.” You don’t comment on how tired he seems despite the brightening effect of his makeup. It’ll take more than heavy concealer to hide how his whole body sags forward, how he leans against the nearest sturdy surface. “I hope you’re able to rest some time soon.”

 “I have exactly seven hours to sleep if I make it to my bed in five minutes.” He waves after leading you to Taeyong and Johnny’s room.

 You knock and Johnny is mid stretch when you enter, you catch a peek of his boxers before he pulls a pillow to cover his bare chest. “Enjoy,” he sends you a wink before exiting.

 Taeyong is sitting on the edge of his bed, still done up from the day’s productions. Half of his hair is slicked back and the rest is casting a shadow over a penciled-in brow. He’s mindlessly scrolling through something when you announce yourself.

 Immediately he puts his phone down and scoots back. You sit across from him on Johnny’s bed, one leg tucked underneath you. You are nervous. You don’t want to be yelled at,  no matter how much you might deserve it.

“You look nice.” Flattery always gets you forward in life, right?

 “She did a good job. Did you watch us today?” Your friend was a talented makeup artist, yes, but that’s not what you were here to discuss. 

 You lie and shake your head. “I slept a lot. Wasn’t feeling well.”

 “What’s wrong?” He’s sad, so sad, you don’t like it. Maybe he is regretful of what went down the days prior. He won’t make eye contact.

 “I’m not sure. I was just tired. I went to bed exhausted last night and today I woke up tired.”

 “Oh, I thought it might,” he cuts himself off. “Never mind.”

 “That too,” you know what he had been getting at. “I requested off quite some time ago. It’s a milestone after all.”

 His mouth quirks at your revelation. “400 hundred days.”

 “Not exactly, but we came close. I’m shocked we made it past a week after our first date.”

 “A spilled coffee and your broken shoe weren’t very good omens were they?”

 “I didn’t expect you to talk to me after that night. I ruined your shirt.”

 “It was no big deal, I told you.”

 “It was an eighty dollar shirt.”

 “Yeah well, I stepped on the back of your sandal and ripped it right off your foot.”

 “My ten dollar pair of sandals, what a tragedy. My poor heart,” you feign a gasp and fling yourself backwards. Ideally, your light mood is supposed to make things run smoothly.

 “__?”

 “Yes?” You don’t want to look, don’t want to see his face. It hurts more when he’s dressed this way. Perhaps that is shallow of you, but seeing the perfection that is Lee Taeyong look unhinged because of you makes you feel some kind of way.

 “I was just mad because we hadn’t spoken in so long. I was just mad because we hadn’t spoken and there you were and you weren’t waiting for me you were there for someone else.”

He's talking about when you met up with Yuta to see a movie. Yuta assured you Taeyong wasn't around, however the older unknowingly slipped back into the dorm for his wallet. You poked your head out from behind the refrigerator door to see him sneering at Yuta who watched him with wary eyes. After Taeyong got done ripping you a new one, Yuta chased after you and walked you home. You cried on his shoulder and he assured you Taeyong loved you despite his behavior.

 You rub at your eyes trying to will away your tears. How stupid of you to assume things could be easy between the two of you after all of the turmoil you caused him. “I’m sorry, Taeyong.”

 “You’re allowed to have friends. I shouldn’t have been so jealous.”

 “No, not that, I’m sorry for not talking to you. That was wrong of me.”

 “Stop, please stop.” You feel the bed dip and suddenly one of your hands is being lifted away. You peek up at him.

 “I’m sorry.” You know if you blink tears are inevitable. You don’t want to cry and make him feel any worse than he already does. This isn’t his fault. It’s yours, you were the one being stupid and ending things for stupid, stupid, stupid reasons. Reasons you very well did not put much thought into, consequences of your actions be damned. “I’m really sorry,” your voice breaks mid sentence. “I love you, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t think it was possible but that was just me doubting myself again, wasn’t it.”

You called it off. You had a scare and he was upset, rightly so, but you weren’t expecting his rejection. He made you leave the dorm so you vowed to not speak to him until he reached out. Then you found out it was a mistake and were afraid to let him back in, lest it happen again and be true. You’d both been in the wrong.

 He nods at you softly and presses a kiss to your forehead. You in turn dot a few along his jaw.

 “I missed you.”

 He hums and pecks your mouth this time.

 “Did you miss me too?”

 He kisses you again, lingering. He does it again and again and again until you lean into the next and tangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. Moaning, he parts his lips and puts a lax hand on your neck. Past memories have you deepening the kiss and tugging at his silky honey colored strands. He shifts so your back is flat against the mattress and his chest is against yours before he pauses. Surveying the area he grins down at you. “We’re on Johnny’s bed.”

 “Okay, then we should stop.”

 “I thought we were making up for lost time?”

 “I can wait. Can you?” You raise your brows at him. You are shocked he wants to jump back into the midst of your relationship so quickly.  You don’t have it in your heart to tell him to slow down. You don’t want to be separated from him any longer than necessary.

 “I don’t know how long I can hold out. Come see me tomorrow, after you’re off?”

 “If you really want me to.”

 “I do.”  

 You attempt to drag yourself away from him but he manages to pull you back three times before you make it out of his room. He keeps a hand attached to your waist as he walks you to the entryway. He checks around before pecking you once more.

 “You’ll come?”

 “Tomorrow after work, yes.”

"I'll make sure its a little less crowded then, so it’s quiet for us.”

When you return to the dorm the following day, you're surprised to to be welcomed by Taeyong, alone. You can't hear a thing over the living room television. How he seemingly got everyone to leave, you have no idea. You don't question it, just silently thank the higher powers for this moment alone.

He leads you to his shared room and you both recline on his bed.

"___, I have to tell you something. I can't hold it back any longer."

You hold your breath as you wait for him.

 “I just need you to know, in my eyes I wasn’t rejecting you. I still wanted you, I still want you. After being apart from you I want you more than I did before. I love you.”

 You give him a once over. You don’t know what you are looking for, but you know you did not want him to lie to make you happy. It was the first time he had told you he loved you after all. Sure he had said it jokingly, or after you did something cute, but now it seemed serious. His voice wasn’t lacking in sincerity, and he had been staring straight at you when he said it.

 You surge towards him, effectively pushing him into his mattress. You press kisses onto the entirety of his face, “I love you too.” One for his right cheek. “I missed you.” To his left. “You’re my favorite.” His chin. “Every bit of you,” he directs you to his lips. “I love it.”

 Before you can deepen the kiss he moves his head to the side and forces eye contact. “We could try.” He trails off. “Eventually, we could try. I think it would make me happy.”

 “Try? Try what?” Seconds later you catch on. “You want to? You think?”

 “When the time is right, I think we would have the best family.”

 You remember now what your favorite- favorite thing about Taeyong is. You are on the same wavelength. Both ultra caring, ultra sensitive, career driven, occasionally reclusive. Ultimately scared of failing those around you.

 “That’s all we can do, try our best.”

 You both lean in.

 “Not to sound pushy, but I’d like to get back to what we started last night if that’s okay.”

 You’re fast to roll onto your back next to him.

 “What are you doing?”

 “You said you wanted to get back to last night.”

 “But I like when you’re on top.”

 You tug on him into place above you and connect your mouths before he can complain again. He presses closer to you, persistent about feeling every inch of you at once. You card your fingers through his hair before pulling on the collar of his shirt. He’s eager to take everything off, undoing the buttons of your blouse soon after. You both pause when your bare chests are together, the heat between you helping combat against the chill of the air conditioning. He shudders when his hand connects with your stomach.

 He moves his head into the crook of your neck. He appears content with staying there, holding your midsection and smiling into your skin.

 After a few hushed minutes he turns his head and begins to trail kisses from behind your ear, down to your clavicle. He pauses to make a mark just underneath. He’s slow about it, pulling the skin between his teeth and moving his tongue over it before applying pressure and soothing away the hurt.

 You want this to last forever, but in reality you hadn’t been touched for a long time and urge him to get to the main event. He laughs at you and pays attention to your chest to calm you down. He wants to savor this. To memorize what he hasn’t even forgotten. Though you had only slept together a handful of times, he knew your body well. Knew how to pacify you when you became needy and wouldn’t allow let things unfold naturally.

 He runs the hand on your stomach up to your right breast, lightness of his touch causing goosebumps to form. He traces a finger over your nipple, just barely grazing it before moving to your left side. His tongue dips out to wet your skin before he ducks his head down to your navel, hastily undoing your bottoms.

 Who was he kidding? His way of pacifying you is to gift you your every desire.

 Once he has your pants off he pushes himself back up to face you, juts his hips against yours and grinds down into you. As much as your eyes want to droop shut, you stay alert to watch him. His mouth parts and he groans in satisfaction of finally having some kind of friction against his growing bulge. You wrap your legs around him, actively seeking your own pleasure from the way he’s moving.

 He bends forward to support his weight on his hands when you reach between your bodies to undo his jeans. He lets out a shaky breath when you get your hand on his member. Stops breathing altogether when he feels the head of his cock come in contact with your slick heat after you shove your panties to the side. When he finally feels your walls enclose around him he drops to his elbows.

 You gather him in your arms, hands moving up and down his back as you both relish in the feeling of being together emotionally and physically after such a long while. You lay still, chest to chest for some time, before becoming impatient and rocking your hips into his. He immediately rises and begins to shift against you, starting a steady pace that’s quick enough to keep you from asking for more yet also keep him from coming undone too soon.

 Seeing you beneath him gives Taeyong a sense of joy he didn’t realize was possible to achieve from sex. Typically your meetings were rushed and involved you giving him a handjob before sending him off. You were weird about letting him explore your body, and he was too shy to ask to do things you didn’t seem to want any part of.

 When you did have full blown sex,  you were always on top, half clothed, his forehead against your chest as he watched your breasts bounce with every roll of your body against his. He was fine with it, but sometimes he imagined seeing you fully naked, like now, moaning as loudly as your voice allowed. He takes the opportunity and rakes his eyes over every inch of exposed skin. He notes little moles on the inside of your thighs and a raised scar over your left hip.

 Peering down he sees where you are joined, how easily you accept him inside despite the resistance he feels from stretching you open. Every time his cock slides out its wetter than before and he tries his best not to speed up. He’s finally got you where he’s wanted you every since the first time you gave into his advances. He isn’t going to have it end abruptly.

 As pleasurable as Taeyong’s tempo is, you normally set the pace. When you’re on top he reaches deeper and small rolls of your hips are enough to set you off. With him on top for the first time, you remember one of the reasons you never switched things up. Sometimes he’s angled just right to hit a spot that makes you cry out, but mostly he’s just rubbing against your walls. It feels nice, but will surely not end in you orgasming with your boyfriend.

 You pet his hair and make him look at you. “Taeyong, I need more.”

 Your words set his cheeks aflame and he halts. Stuttering he asks what he can do.

 You spread your thighs wider and use one of your legs to bring him further into you. “You gotta go faster and deeper and,” You hesitate. “You have to touch me.”

 “I’m not touching you enough?”

 You take his hand and lead it between your legs. “Touch me here.” You show him how to use two fingers to rub soft circles onto your clit. Eventually you let him to do it on his own, and when you start to freely moan he nods to himself and begins to pick up speed.

 Almost immediately upon directing Taeyong you feel yourself go taut. Your breath starts to catch in your throat. Periodically you let out a harsh gasp when you remember to exhale. Taeyong watches you all along your quick journey to completion, in awe of how open you’re being with your expressions. Before you’d simply bite your lip and begin writhing in his lap.

 Your walls start to spasm around his length, and he takes his hand from your clit to find purchase on the bed. His control slips for a split second and he rams into you one, two, three times before stopping and supporting himself on shaky arms above you.  

He’s blissfully aware that he came inside of you for the first time in your relationship.

Taeyong stays lying beside you for as long as he can handle. You lift your head from his chest after he tells you he needs to shower. You wipe yourself off some tissues you find in your purse from your last cold and proceed to get dressed. You just about have your bra done up when you hear knocking. Your blood runs cold.

 Taeyong assured you that he would make sure the dorm was safe for you the night before. Despite not seeing anyone when you entered earlier, you knew how unlikely it was for everyone to be away.. They were probably in their own little worlds, in their own rooms, trying their best to ignore the noises coming from Taeyong’s.

 You quietly finish dressing, wishing away whoever was behind the door. There’s another knock however, and after you don’t answer, the door swings open.

 Your soul nearly leaves you when you see Yuta taking in every out of place detail of the normally pristine bedroom. “I take it things went well?”

 You say nothing, hoping you are hallucinating.

  Though Yuta can read the signs of what just went on, a part of him is still excited by your presence. He tries to play it cool by laughing at you but he is in fact disturbed to see you with sex hair and the buttons on your shirt done up the wrong way.

  He comes closer to the bed you’re on and gets to his knees. Your wide eyes watch him like a hawk, unsure of what he’s doing. He doesn’t say anything about the way your leg trembles when his shoulder brushes past. He stands with Taeyong’s charger in his hand.

  “One of the kid’s borrowed mine.”

  It's a lame excuse, but instead of calling him out on it you toss him a forlorn glance. “Probably won’t be getting that back.”

  “I often don’t get the things I want.”

  He leaves, yet you feel the need to follow in his footsteps and ask him to elaborate. Ultimately you don’t. You know what he means, you just wish he weren’t so vocal about his desires, especially when they involved you.

  Especially after he said your friendship could remain the same.

Your mind feels back to the day of the movie. To when Taeyong chastised you for spending time with people from his circle while you were separated. To when Yuta chased after you when you stormed out.

 He stood next to you on the bus, unafraid to be seen without a mask. He kept his hand on your shoulder and murmured quiet things to keep you from bursting out in tears. In your apartment he sat close by and rubbed your back. You leaned on him for support and you kissed each other goodbye as he left. For you it was a moment of vulnerability. Utterly isolated because of your hidden relationship, no one else was able to comfort you because they knew nothing of the situation. The kiss was an impulsive thank you of sorts that you regretted instantly. 

You stare at your clenched fists as you reminisce, when Taeyong re-enters the room. You will tell him in due time. For now, you pray that Yuta keeps his mouth shut and his feelings fade quickly. You wanted only Taeyong, you had him back, and you weren’t planning on letting him go this time.

[beaubcxton]

‘And that’s your cue.’ ( Jily )

An au where you try out for auditions and you’re really scared but then this cute guy calms you down and then what? 

A/N: Here’s the au that no one asked for. @youreyesinstarsabove this is for you. There’s hardly any fluff here but if you wait, you shall see. (is that vague enough?) I wrote this in a few hours so dont judge me xxxx

 Lily Evans has not been living her dream. Neither her vision of what constituted a dream and what not. For starters, she still lived with her friend, Marlene and she was reminded of this fact every weekend at night. And there’s the issue with her job. Life would like to say it bit her in the ass when she found out she was working for Severus Snape- the creep who stalked her when they were children. She had taken the job, still because money? In this economy was a rarity.

Life had kicked and laughed at her but she raised a finger- it was her favorite one-, dusted her skirt and strode away. You could say, she was holding life by the balls when she took matters into her own hands.

After her parents died, she had spent hours wondering what to do with the money they left for her.

Petunia had shown up for the funeral and sniffed when she caught sight of Lily’s clothing or rather lack of mourning clothes.

“A shame, Lily. What would our parents say?”

“I think-“  Lily bit out, furious that even the matter of mourning was a competition to her sister. “-that they would be rather happy that I haven’t got a stick in my ass.”

True to her nature, Petunia had balked at her in disgust and swept away, adamant not to be seen involved with her freak of a sister.

She could almost hear the hearty laugh of her father. And suddenly, she knew what she had to do.

So here she was, dressed in a lousy blouse and tight jeans, in a hall where the auditions for a French play’s cast were being held. Only the residue of courage lingered in her as the prospect of what she was about to face wore her. She fans her face- why was it so bloody hot?

“Jenna Mackenly.”

The name sends another jolt to her and she shuts her eyes so she doesn’t have to see her clammed up hands and her shivering legs.

“Hey.”

Jumping, she takes a glance at the man next to her and immediately freezes. Sure, its bloody dark and she can barely see him but to the gods, if he wasn’t fit as hell. Brown eyes blinked at her and his jaw- one that could melt hafnium ( sue her, she’s a nerd)- tilts.  He’s holding a plate of French fries and offers them to her which she declines.

“You nervous?”

She nods.

He takes her silence in stride. Perhaps, he’s used to girls fawning over him and being shitting messes. “You don’t need to worry much. Just look at that- he points to a light behind him- and sing. The judges are a bunch of cranky wankers-“ She huffs a laugh here because they indeed were; Several of them looked almost bored as the poor girl sang shrilly- “so don’t bother looking at them, yeah?”

The advice takes a moment to settle in but once it does, she murmurs out a soft thank you.

“Ah.” His eyes lit up and their close proximity enables her to see the flecks of gold swimming in them. “She speaks.”

“She is Lily Evans.”

“And he is James Potter. Not the judge, I meant me. Ugh, I am so not cool.”

She lets out a giggle. “It’s alright. I’m used to boys being stuttering messes around me.”

Laughter erupts from him and the girl on stage pauses briefly before continuing. “Says the girl who was in awe of me just a few seconds ago.”

“Excuse me if I didn’t know what to say to a stranger.”

He smiles like a wolf. “Well, I’m not a stranger anymore, am I?”

And then, like the wanker he is, he shifts as if he knows she going to gulp when she sees his muscles flex. Chuckling, he deems that the act of teasing her would not go well in his favor and asks, “What are you doing here?”

She cocks an eyebrow at him. “I’m going to sing.”

A blush stains his cheek. “I know that. I meant, why are you here?”

Despite the flow of ridiculous questions, she says, “I always wanted to be a singer. There’s something beautiful about the way you can control your voice and direct it to flow, you know? Music, it’s a piece of art that goes in the ears and straight to your heart, clanging through your blood as it does so. Everyone’s born with a song and ahh, it’s a channel to release your anxiety.”

He hums. “Have you thought of becoming a writer too?”

Again, he offers her the plate. She picks one fry and chews it. “Did you know French fries have actually no French origin?”

Surprised, she says, “I do.” And like the sap she is, she blushes. Quickly getting back on topic: “I work for a magazine, actually.”

“Which one?”

“Echos.”

James immediately recoils. “You work for Snape?”

“Yeah.”

“Ughhh. And here, I thought you were a decent bird.”

She should have rebuked him. She really should have. That’s what a decent employee would do but she hated Snape as much, if not more than he did. It's not unexpected that the public detests Snape. When Severus was a journalist, several protests were his doing as his articles were usually along the lines of ‘NO place for immigrants.’ ‘The possibilities if the blacks are once again oppressed.’ It hurt Lily’s conscience that she had to work for a man like him but her bank account needed it.

Lily shoves him by the shoulder. “Oh shut up. Not all of us are rich, Mr. Posh.”

“Mr. Posh?” He barks a laugh. “That’s a new one.”

“Shush. It’s because of that perfume you’re wearing.” She remarks, rather reluctantly. His odor was rather intoxicating. It was a mixture of ink and cookies but she interrupted when she saw his mouth form an arrogant grin. “What do you work as?”

“Lily Evans.”

Fudge.

James pushes her a little. “You can do this.”

She can do it. She was Lily Evans according to her birth certificate, not Quitter Evans so, hands sweating alongside wobbly knees, she glided through the silence and assumed her position on stage.

“What song are you going to sing for us?’

“Greek Tragedy by the Wombats.”

One of the judges blinked at her and yawned. “Well, go ahead.”

Wanker.

Stand tall, her mother used to say. Chest open, head back, relax and let your voice flow.

So she sang. The stumbling croak soon dissolved into what she hoped was the lull of a nightingale. She closed her eyes when the judges started talking to one another. She kept singing, reminded herself of a time when Petunia and her ran down to breakfast as soon as the scent of maple danced in the air. She thought of the time when she had didn’t give a damn about money and did things because she liked it. And she lingered on James, the man she’d just met who gave her the confidence to find her voice.

“That’s enough.”

Her eyes flew open and she stumbled a little.

“That was great.”

Snapping her head towards the familiar voice, her jaw almost drops.

Of course, of bloody course, James had to be a judge. Internally groaning, she mutters out thanks and stalks off stage.

He catches up with her when she’s about to leave.

“Alright, Evans?”

She offers him a reproachful eye. “I suppose it was too difficult to tell me you were a judge.”

He laughs. “Is that what got your knickers in a twist?”

Scowling, she flushes. “People probably think I was trying to.....seduce you.”

A beat of silence and then he doubles over laughing. In the light, she can fully appreciate his features. He’s better than fit. Too damn tall but his wavy and messy jet black hair make up for it. And, he’s wearing a carry on shirt. The universe hates her, she’s sure.

“Seduce?” He chokes out, finally.

Waving a hand to brush the matter away, she says as a matter of fact, “We all know I'm irresistible.”

Fondness coats his features. “That you are. I doubt you’d like to go out on a date with me, now?”

Cursing whoever bothered to add logic in her vessel, she declines the offer halfheartedly.

James takes the rejection in stride. Kissing her palm, he purrs, “Until next time?”

He smirks as she nods faintly.

 LilyEvans to MarlMc: bring ice cream.

MarlMc: bring it urself

LilyEvans: not fair. I just rejected a hot guy.

MarlMc: strawberry or vanilla?

LilyEvans: chocolate.

MarlMc: that’s not an option

Also youre a dolt.

LilyEvans: it is now.

I know.

 Marlene does not bring chocolate ice cream.

It truly is a sin but nonetheless, a sad Lily needs her ice cream so she sticks her spoon in the salted caramel ice cream. (“It’s a new flavor,” Marlene explained.) (“I was going to get a new flavor.”) (“Stop objectifying the bloke, you sap.”) (“I am not, you cynic.”)

They share ice cream that night and the following one. Marlene calling Lily a dolt after each spoon.

“You’re going to get in.”

“I sang like a crow, Marls.”

“You’ll still get in.”

“I won't. And I don’t care, either.”

Marlene made a hmph sound but if the outcome was a failure, Lily wasn’t going to wallow in her misery. She had learned something as she poured her heart out on that stage. Sometimes, you’ve gotta do things for fun even if you suck at it. Keep trying until you can proudly say, “I lowkey don’t suck. 

Someday, she’d sing in front of people who wanted to listen to her instead of three old men and one fit bloke. Someday.

And when the call came a few days later and some ass said, “You didn’t make the cut, sweetheart” and hung up, she was stung but she shrugged it off and posted a cover of her song on youtube.

  LilyEvans to MarlMc: im going out

MarlMc: u???

On a weekend?

Instead of reading??

Who are you??

LilyEvans: shut up

I have a boy to find

who’s a cute nerd

MarlMc: ashkashdihsndlksa

 “Thank you.” She held the plate of fries in her hand, silently asking herself what the frick she was doing.

Taking a deep breath, she entered the auditorium and looked around. Unlike last time, it was James that made her uneasy and not the stifling heat. His mop of hair was not to be found in the seats and the realization brought a pang to her chest.

“Looking for me?”

Spinning around, she’s faced with a very very close James.  

“James.” She breathes.

“Lily.” He responds, quirking an eyebrow. “Sorry that you didn’t get the part.”

She swallows. “It's okay. I got you some ah, fries.”

He takes the plate from her and inspects the chips, thoughtfully. So much for romantic gestures. 

“What-“

“Wanna go out with me?”

“Sure. You have my number?”

A frown tugs at her lips. “Wait, what?”

“Do you have my number?” He repeats, rather slowly, grinning at her confusion.

“You’re saying yes?”

He mocks a sigh. “Not a bright one, are you Lily?”

“What? I’ll have you know I got a degree in politics and-“

 Laughing, he gently pulls her outside and scribbles his number on her arm, his touch sending goosebumps through her blood.

“Call me?”  He imitates a phone and she lets out a laugh

Brimming with euphoria, she says, “I’ll do more if you’d like.”

And then, he kisses her.

Maybe the universe didn’t hate her after all, She’ll think months later as she rubs her belly and replies to comments on her youtube channel. 

“Hey, Lils?”

“Yeah?”

“They increased Snivellus’s jail time.”

Its bad of her to laugh but she still does. 

“Did you call the guy to fix the bed?”

Her boyfriend huffs and kisses her on the cheek. “I’ll do it myself. I’m James.”

“Exactly why I’m asking.”

Huffing, he turns but she tugs him back.

This time, she kisses him.

[ladyseaheart1668]

Endless Summer Fan Novel (Book 3, Chapter 4)

Malatesta swears fluently under his breath. Jake edges closer to me.

“Ol' Nessie is harder to shake than mono!” he mutters ruefully. Helpless frustration bubbles up in my gut.

“Damn you, Cetus!” I scream. “Why can't you just leave us alone?!”

Dark clouds rush in overhead, following the ocean Guardian. A peal of thunder crackles through the air, and Cetus lets out an ear-splitting roar. As if answering him, the storm erupts in earnest, bright lines of lightning arcing across the angry sky as rain batters us below.

“I don't think he came to mess around this time, yo...” Craig says nervously.

“Back to the reef!” Sean shouts over the rising storm. “He can't get to us in the shallows!”

Yvonne and Malatesta struggle to turn the boats in the choppy water, but a dark shape rises to block our path back to the atoll.

“Oh, god,” Diego whispers. “That's his tail!”

“The grinning devil has us trapped!” Yvonne growls.

“Cetus!” Varyyn roars furiously. “I swear on my mother's grave, I will cut off your head and mount your skull over my throne!”

A wave swells beneath us, sending us scrambling to keep our balance. Michelle's backpack slides across the boat, wedging beneath an oar handle. The light of the Island's Heart streams through the half-zipped flap. Cetus' terrible visage turns, drawn by the brilliant light. For a moment, there is relative calm. Quinn stands on the prow of our boat, facing Cetus boldly.

“Guardian!” she shouts. “I command you to leave this place!”

Cetus turns his attention on her, but only seems to be angered by her words. He howls furiously. Sean and Michelle rush forward to protect her.

“Stop him!” Varyyn suddenly cries. “He has the Heart!”

“What?!” I whip around to see Malatesta raising the shining half-sphere toward Cetus.

“Ye want this, do ye, monster?!” he roars. “Then take it!” Before anyone can react, he lobs the Heart at Cetus. Horror floods through me as I watch it arc through the air and disappear into the serpent's cavernous maw. Cetus closes his jaws. Then, as soon as he appeared, he is gone again, disappeared beneath the raging waves.

“Did he just...eat the Heart?” Diego asks incredulously.

“Yup,” Jake confirms numbly. “That just happened.”

“Malatesta, you bastard!” I hear myself screaming as I come out of my stupor. “Do you have any idea what you just did, you selfish, double-crossing...”

“Plague-eating gut worm!” Yvonne finishes for me from the other rowboat.

“I did what none of you wallflowers were willing to do to keep us alive!” he snarls. Deafening thunderclaps explode overhead. Forked tongues of lightning strike the waves with ear-splitting pops, and a piteous cry rises from somewhere below.

“He's leaving!” Estela shouts. “But the storm's only getting worse!”

She's right. The waves are getting higher and stronger, and our rowboats are bucking and rearing, rising and falling like roller coaster cars.

“Hang on! Everyone just hang on!” I grab the oars, trying to control the boat. I row furiously against the tide, and the boat steadies slightly as we climb and descend the waves.

“Yeah! What a ride!” Craig crows. I turn frantically to look at the other rowboat, and a flash briefly illuminates a cluster of rocks directly ahead of Yvonne's boat.

“Yvonne, left! Break left!”

Yvonne pitches her weight left, turning the boat. They narrowly miss the rocks. I turn help them, but my eye catches the sight of the sea turning and falling away.

“Guys!” Craig cries. “It's a tidal wave!”

Caught in the current, the boat is drawn higher and higher by a towering wall of water. The dark sea churns beneath us, looking at least a mile off. As the wave crests, I find myself airborne, and hear screaming all around me. Some of it is probably my own. Then the dark water breaks painfully underneath me, rushing in to close over my head. Sinking figures surround me as darkness fills my vision, and even the rush of water singing against my ears starts to fade into silence...

… Light suddenly stings my eyes. My chest feels tight. There is a salty-tasting mouth pressed against mine, surrounded by scratchy stubble. Air rushes into my chest.

“Come on, Princess,” Jake pleads desperately. “Come back to me.” His mouth presses to mine again, and another rush of air sends a wave of seawater crashing up my throat. I feel my whole body seizing violently as the water in my lungs explodes out of me in a fit of coughing.

“Oh, thank goodness!” I hear Quinn breathe. I try to focus my vision. Jake is beside me, Quinn and Diego are kneeling at my other shoulder. Jake helps me sit up. He pulls me into his arms, trembling and kissing my hair.

“You're okay...you're okay, Princess...”  

“I'm fine...” After taking a moment to catch my breath, I pull back to look at his face and gingerly lay a hand on his injured ribs. “Are you okay?”

He flinches at my touch, gasping sharply, but he forces a smile. “No worse off than before, I think.”

Diego smiles weakly at me. “How many near-drownings is this now, Allie?”

“Too many,” I admit. “Honestly, it's getting embarrassing.”

I glance around me. Besides Quinn and Diego, I see Sean, Michelle, Raj, Craig, Estela, and Varyyn are all gathered nearby, all soaking wet, but apparently unharmed. Jake kisses my forehead.

“There's no sign of the pirate duo,” he murmurs. “Maybe they washed up somewhere else.”

Abruptly, Quinn frowns, tipping her head to the side. “Hey...does anyone else hear that?” We all go quiet, listening. A faint melody is drifting through the trees, strains of an acoustic guitar.

“What the hell?” I murmur.

“Sounds like we ain't alone,” Jake remarks with a frown. He helps me to my feet. We all make our way into the rainforest, following the dulcet tones until we reach a ruined stone structure almost completely overgrown with clinging vines. At the center of what must have once been an impressive courtyard, an amphitheater descends toward a small stage.

“I think these are Mayan ruins,” Diego says. “I learned about them in Pre-Colonial Art History.”

“Yeah,” I murmur. I can't help pausing for a moment to admire them, to imagine them whole and filled with people living their daily lives. How many generations have walked this ground before me, unaware of what will come in the future, unconcerned about what came before them? Consumed with their own lives, their own problems, each making a thousand tiny decisions that shape the world into what it is now...

The mysterious guitar strains break into my thoughts again. I look toward the source of the music, which turns out to be a handsome young man sitting against a wall at one side of the stage. He's ruddy-skinned, with dark hair that brushes his shoulders, wearing a brown military-looking uniform and dogtags, like the kind Jake wears. Sensing our presence, he pauses.

“Hello? Someone else here?” We're still mostly concealed by the trees and the decaying building, but after scanning his surroundings, he seems to notice us. He starts to put his guitar away.

“...He's kinda cute,” Diego murmurs, with an unmistakeable grin curving his lips. “Don't you think so, Allie?”

“Down, boy!” I quip.

“He's more than cute,” Michelle replies. “He's downright dreamy.”

“No argument here,” Quinn agrees.

Jake raises an eyebrow. “You kiddin' me? That's a paratrooper kit he's wearing.”

“He's probably got some firearms on him,” Estela says flatly. “We'd better watch ourselves.”

“Definitely,” Sean agrees, he glares at Michelle and the others.

The man in the paratrooper kit walks over to a small pot perched atop a campfire and stirs its contents.

“Plenty of room here if you'd like to share my camp,” he calls.

“...Should we?” I ask uncertainly. “Call me paranoid, but I'm inclined to be suspicious of humans here who aren't...you know, us.”

“I'm with Alodia,” Craig agrees. “This guy is waaaaaaay suspicious.”

“Yeah. But we should find out what he's up to,” Sean murmurs.

Quinn rolls her eyes. “Oh, come on! Did you guys even hear that music?”

“Yes,” Varyyn says mildly. “It was very beautiful.” I can't tell if he's agreeing with Quinn or with us.

Sean shakes his head and steps warily toward the young man. The rest of us follow.

“Hey!” Sean calls.

The young man smiles warmly. “Hey, Mac. Pleased to meet you. I'm Kele.”

“You with Arachnid?” Sean demands.

“Arach-what?”

“Don't try to play dumb, bro!” Craig growls. “Lundgren give you all this gear?”

“Hey, look, don't snap your cap, pal. I don't know anything about any Arachnid or Lundgren. I'm on my own out here. Have been since the Shenandoah got brought down by U-boats.”

“You sayin' submarine torpedoes sunk your ship?” Jake asks, frowning.

“Germans really know what they're doing with those things,” Kele says ruefully. “We got hit in the zero dark hundred and we were taken totally unaware.”

“We're stranded on La Huerta, too,” Quinn admits.

“Now that's a sure shame.” Kele smiles disarmingly at her. “Pretty girl like you must have a lot of friends back home.”

Quinn blushes. “Oh, well, heh...Actually, all of my friends are here...”

Jake leans over to murmur in my ear, “Princess, his uniform is downright antique!”

“Kele,” I say, “don't take this the wrong way, but what year do you think it is?”

He shrugs. “Last I saw a calendar, 1941. But there's not much use in keeping track of time here.”

“So you are a World War II soldier!” Diego exclaims. “You were fighting Nazis before it was even cool!”

“Yeah, something like that.”

I feel Jake relax beside me. “Well, you got my respect.” He steps up to Kele and holds out a hand. “Jake McKenzie, former Navy pilot.”

Kele shakes the offered hand. “Oh, a flyboy. Pleasure.” He returns to the pot and starts stirring.

“How long have you been here?” Estela asks.

“Long enough to stop worrying about it,” he replies. “Can I interest you all in some chili or do you wanna keep beating your gums all day?”

Raj chuckles. “Dude's unflappable. I like him.”

“I saw him first,” Michelle retorts.

“No fair!” Quinn laughs.

“I guess he's all right,” Sean finally relents. “So, you really don't know anything about the Arachnid paramilitary outfit? Or Rourke?”

“Oh, you mean the machine men? Yeah, they've been around. I saw a bunch of them come out of the ruins. Looked like they were searching for somebody.” He frowns, looking up at us. “...Is it you they're trying to find?”

We all exchange glances. Finally, I take a deep breath. “Well, the short answer is...yes.”

“Huh.” He shrugs. “Well, you can hide here for as long as you like. There's a vista over a waterfall a few minutes away that's good for scouting.”

“Probably a good idea to send a couple people up there to keep lookout,” Jake remarks.

“Not you,” I say firmly, before he can volunteer himself. “You're still injured.”

“Alodia's right,” Michelle agrees. “We won't even know the real extent of the damage for a day or two. You need to rest as much as possible.”

“I'll go,” Sean volunteers.

“Not alone you're not,” I say. “I'll go with you.”

Kele arches an eyebrow at me. “Think I've figured out who your CO is.”

Jake chuckles. “That's Alodia. She may be tiny, but don't tangle with her. She's a firecracker.”

“Duly noted. I'll show you how to get there.” Kele puts down the ladle and wipes his hands.

“Need any help in the kitchen in the meantime?” Raj asks.

“Sure. More cooks means more food. There are some mangoes you could slice up in that rucksack.”

“Comin' right up!”

Kele directs me and Sean on the proper route up to the vista. We take the hill in silence for a few minutes, concentrating on keeping our footing on the steep, uneven terrain.

“It was good of you to volunteer,” I remark after a time. “I know you really haven't had much time to unwind since we found you. But if you hadn't, I know Jake would have, and in his current condition...”

“It's fine. Honestly, I kinda think I needed this.”

“Yeah?”

He sighs, flexing his fingers anxiously. “I dunno. So much has happened in the last few weeks, but there's so little that I was able to do about it. Don't get me wrong, it's nice to get a break, but...I just need to feel useful right now.”

“I feel like I ought to be telling you to chill out,” I reply ruefully. “But the truth is, I totally get it. It's just generally tough to enjoy yourself when you feel like you're not doing enough for those around you. And in a situation like ours...honestly, I feel like I'm forgetting how to relax.”

“I think it's like using any muscle. If you don't practice with it, it gets weak.”

“Well, for my money, staring at a waterfall together has to be a pretty good place to start.”

“Only one way to find out.”

I can hear the water rushing before it comes into view. When it does, my breath catches in my throat. I have found myself on the edge of the placid pond that spreads from the bottom of the waterfall. The water that flows over the cliffs above me is clear, crystal blue, and the whole scene is framed with mottled green and brown foliage. Beside me, I look out to see verdant greenery rolling below us.

“...There's worse places to be lookouts, that's for sure,” I murmur. I take a seat on a large boulder beside the waterfall and pat the spot next to me. “Sit down. Take a load off.”

Sean comes to sit beside me, casting his gaze over the valley. The gentle smile on his face starts to fall. He points somewhere in the distance.

“That's where Craig and I were held,” he says softly. “When we were captured.”

“So close?” I taste alarm at the back of my throat, but Sean quickly shakes his head.

“They moved camp awhile ago, so we're fine. ...It's just weird to see it again.”

It takes a moment for my heartbeat to return to normal, for my breath to descend from my chest into my abdomen. “...That must have been really hard...”

“It was,” he agrees. He is quiet for a long time, searching for the words. Finally, he shakes his head again. “It's hard to explain.”

“...What were they going to do with you?”

“I'm not sure. They clearly weren't there for us to begin with, which explains why we stayed in one place for so long. They would ask us questions sometimes. If we knew where the Heart was. Or what the Vaanti were planning. ...About halfway through, we overheard Aleister talking to someone about how we were the only survivors.”

I swallow hard. “...Shit...God, Sean...”

“...That was really hard, hearing that. After all that time, it seemed likely. And then after awhile, they wouldn't let me or Craig speak unless spoken to...”

“...Did they hurt you?”

“Some of them got a little rough, but nothing too bad. ...Aleister made sure they didn't treat us like garbage, so that was something.” He sighs. “I bet everyone thinks I was insane to ask him to come with us.”

“It's not insane, Sean. You saw something in him worth saving.” It's my turn to sigh. “The others...just aren't in a place to even ask that right now. They're still too raw.”

“That's fair,” he admits. “Regardless, I'm glad you had my back on the ship. It felt good to not be alone on this. ...It just hurts, Alodia. To see what he was doing. How he was doing it. I mean, I won't say Aleister was my favorite person to begin with...”

“You're not the first to feel that way,” I admit wryly.

“But while we were captured, I realized how similar our lives were. We both had to pretend to adore our fathers when they were horrible behind closed doors. We both felt this pressure to carry on a legacy, terrified of failure. Sometimes I would see him at the campsite, and all I could see was myself. Maybe I'm just scared that if I give up on Aleister...”

“...That you're giving up on yourself?” I finish for him. He nods, leaning a little closer to me, perhaps unconsciously. “...It's taken a lot of courage and strength for you to get where you are. But in the end, this is Aleister's journey to figure out. It won't matter how strong you are if he just won't move.”

“You're right. I know you're right. It just...sucks, you know? Seeing someone make the same mistakes you did?”

“I know. But you gave him more chances to do the right thing than anyone. It's not your fault he didn't take any of them.”

He regards me thoughtfully, a smile lifting one corner of his mouth. “What's it like, always knowing the right thing to say? It seems pretty great from here.”

I chuckle. “Oh, you know. I try not to let it go to my head.”

A sudden sharp breeze whips over the waterfall, sending a tepid spray over us. Sean puts himself between me and the waterfall, shielding me from the soaking blast. As the spray dies down, he smiles at me.

“Hi there.”

I grin back up at him. “Heh. Thanks.” Impulsively, I give him a light shove, enough to throw him off balance, and he topples over into the shallow pool. He lands with a splash, sputtering. Soaking wet, he emerges in the knee deep shallows.

“Oh, now you've done it.” With a wicked grin, he lunges at me, grabbing me just under my hips and throwing me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. I yelp as I find myself upside down, staring at his backside.

“Sean? Sean, w-what are you doing?!”

“If I'm getting a bath, so are you!” I shriek indignantly as he turns and marches straight for the waterfall, pounding at his back with my fists.

“You put me down, Sean Gayle! Put me down this instant!”

“No way!” Taking in a deep breath, he rushes in to stand directly under the frothy falls. “It's shower time!”

I yelp with helpless laughter as the lukewarm water crashes over me. “You are a dead man! The moment you put me down, you are so dead!”

“Well, then I guess I can't ever put you down, can I? I guess you live on my shoulders now.” With a few shifts of his weight, he shifts me from sack-of-potatoes position to drape me over both shoulders like a baby lamb. “God, you're tiny, aren't you?”

“I'm not tiny, you're just a big ol' hulk!” Still under the waterfall, he starts to spin in place, making me shriek again. And then I hear another shriek answering mine from somewhere in the hills, a shrill, inhuman cry fused with a cackle. The sound sends ice trickling down my spine. Sean stops cold, quickly setting me back on my feet.

“...What was that?”

“Nothing good,” I answer grimly.

“Hey, you two!” Quinn's voice drifts up the cliffside. “Food's ready! Come and get it!”

Sean looks down at me. “...It...might have just been the wind. We can't let this place make us jump at shadows, right?”

I smile in spite of myself. “Heh. Look at you relaxing.”

“What can I say. You're a great teacher.”

We head back down the trail toward the ruins, where everyone is gathered around a roaring campfire. Craig is clumsily picking at Kele's guitar. Michelle sighs wearily.

“Okay, Craig, whatever you're trying to play, just stop.”

“Isn't it obvious? It's that song about going over rainbows.”

“It's not obvious,” Estela deadpans. “Not at all.”

“At least you're better than Jake,” Diego says with a grin.

“Hey, my rendition of Wonderwall was beautiful!” Jake snaps back.

“I'm sorry to have missed that,” I quip, coming to sit beside him. He regards my freshly soaked clothes with a smirk.

“What happened to you, Princess? You fall in?”

“Something like that. I had help.” I shoot a mock-glare at Sean.

“Hey, she started it,” he retorts. Jake chuckles.

“Somehow, that does not surprise me,” he drawls, softening his words with a kiss on my cheek. I still stick out my tongue at him.

Kele and Raj are leaning over a bubbling pot on the fire, grinning from ear to ear.

“Smells like you've been busy,” Kele remarks.

“I'd love your feedback, dude.” Kele ladles out a bit, blows on it, and takes a sip. His eyes go wide.

“This is...amazing! How did you get so much flavor in there?”

“Coconut milk! And love. Always cook with love.”

Kele gets out a few shelled-out coconut halves from his rucksack. Sean takes the ladle and starts to fill the makeshift bowls, passing them out.

“Sit down, Raj,” he says. “You've earned it.”

When we've all been served, we raise our spoons in a toast and dig in. I sigh rapturously as the flavor collapses across my tongue, savory and hearty with just the right amount of spice.

“Oh my god,” Jake mumbles appreciatively around a mouthful.

“Best chili I have ever tasted,” Estela agrees. Craig has already wolfed down his bowl and gone back for seconds. I am not far behind him.

“Buddy's still got his skills!” Craig declares enthusiastically.

“Thanks to Grandma,” Raj says with a smile. He passes a grateful look to me as I ladle out another helping. “...and Alodia.”

Any reply I might have made is cut off when a sound floats up from out of another part of the ruins, something between rustling, chattering, and shrieking that makes every hair on my body stand to attention. Ice trickles down my spine.

“...Please tell me I'm not the only one who heard that...”

“I heard it,” Sean confirms lowly. “What was that?”

“Oh, that?” Kele shrugs nonchalantly. “That's just the ghost.”

The collective look we give him suggests he has just removed his own head and set it beside him to spoon-feed.

“Just a ghost?” Michelle repeats.

“How auspicious!” Varyyn says brightly. “Has it been here long?”

“Not sure. I've not tended to stay in one place.”

“So, is this a Casper the Friendly Ghost Situation or--” Diego is cut off as the noise surges in strength. We all drop our bowls, clapping our hands over our ears until it dies down a little. “Nope. That's definitely a Dementor.”

A loud crash comes from the trees on the other side of the clearing. My heart wedges in my throat.

“Everyone hide!” I hiss. We all scramble ot flatten ourselves to the ground and huddle against a ruined wall. I dare to peek my head out, and spot a flash of Arachnid armor. Jake grabs my hand, his breath catching, but the soldiers are too busy retreating to even notice the campsite.

“Squad Beta Commander to Control,” one of them calls frantically into his comm unit, “we need backup here! Repeat, requesting backup!”

“Wait!” the other soldier cries. “Don't leave me behind here!”

They vanish into the trees again. As their voices fade, we cautiously emerge from our hiding spots.

“That is not a friendly ghost,” Raj declares.

“Actually,” Estela murmurs, “I...think it might be...”

“Katniss, you did see the soldiers running like babies, right?” Estela pulls the photo of her family out of her pocket.

“Remember the thing that approached me on the beach? What if that spirit is this spirit?”

“I hear you,” Raj agrees. “That ghost thing pulled me out of a real tight spot.”

Sean rubs his father's watch on his wrist. “Helped me, too. Whatever this spirit is, it's definitely a friend.”

“Friend or not, if the soldiers are here, it probably means Rourke's interested in it,” Quinn points out.

“You think it has to do with the Heart?” Sean wonders.

“If Rourke wants it, it's likely,” I agree.

Diego groans a little. “Guys, this isn't fair. I left my proton pack at home.”

“How do we keep a friggin' ghost out of Rourke's hands?” Jake asks.

“Forget that, how do we get it to talk to us?”

“Maybe we should offer it tribute?” I suggest.

“We could light candles and make sugar skulls,” Diego says. “Like my abuelita on Dia de los Muertos.”

“And where would we get either candles or sugar?” Michelle asks irritably.

“We could kill a small animal,” Raj offers. Sean makes a face.

“As delightful as that sounds, Arachnid could be back any moment. We don't have time for that.”

“Why not just walk in and see what we can find?” Kele suggests with a sigh.

“Stay out of this, Jason Mraz,” Jake snaps. “We don't need your help.”

“Jake, be reasonable!” Quinn chides.

“Walking in does seem like less work than killing a squirrel,” Raj concedes.

“How do we know this won't end like a horror movie?” Diego asks nervously.

“I think there's only one way to find out,” I answer grimly.

“I'm coming,” Michelle declares. “But only so I can say 'I told you so' when we get murdered.”

We all turn toward the dark doorway at the end of the courtyard. As we approach, the noise fills our ears again. I grit my teeth, trying to block it out.

“It's not too late to turn around yet, is it?” Diego mutters.

“Come on, bro,” Craig says. “We don't have time to chicken out. Let's just do this before it gets dark.”

“You mean like you did at the haunted house sophomore year?” Michelle drawls.

“I got no idea what you're talking about,” Craig replies haughtily. “The zombies led me out the emergency exit so I could see the real hardcore part of the house.”

I sigh and gather my courage, gently shouldering by Craig to start walking up the steps. I fold my arms tightly over my chest, trying to disguise the fact that I'm shaking.

“See?” I hear Michelle say. “Alodia's going! You can't not go now!”

Craig grumbles under his breath, but he follows after me. As we all walk through the shadowy doorway, the rustling noises seem to close in around us. I shiver, feeling as if I've just stuck my finger in an electric socket.

“Is it just me, or is it really cold in here?”

“Hey, Spirit Dude,” Raj calls softly. “Buddy, ol' pal, ol' friend. We're not here to hurt you. Be nice. Pleeeeeeeease...”

“It's a ghost, Raj, not a puppy!”

I make my way down a rough, uneven staircase, stumbling slightly on one loose step. I put my hand on the wall to steady myself.

“You okay there?” Quinn asks.

“Yeah, fine. I just...” I trail off as I happen to look at my hand. It's smeared with blood. I look up at the wall and find words written in thick swaths of blood: STAY AWAY

“This is friendly-ghost-speak for 'Hi, be my friend', right?” Diego deadpans.

“There's more!” Kele remarks. “Cast an eyeball at this!”

I look where he's indicating, and see more bloody messages: YOU DON'T BELONG HERE and I CAN TASTE YOUR FEAR

“What emo punk band is this ghost listening to?” Jake mutters.

“Hopefully one that's pacifist,” Raj says.

“All right, gang, we don't know when Arachnid is coming back,” Sean points out. “Let's look around and be quick about it.”

We all fan out to poke around the ruins. Sean immediately pulls himself into the branches of an overgrown tree entwined with one ruined wall.

“Think the ghost is hiding up there?” I call up with a smirk.

“No stone unturned, right?” he calls back.

“Well, if by stone you mean branch, I guess that works.”

Quinn wanders over to a crumbling stone fountain. Picking up a stick, she gingerly stirrs the algae-thick water. She recoils slightly, putting a hand over her mouth and nose.

“This is like stirring soup,” she mutters. “And it stinks!”

“Hey, Allie. Come take a look at this.” I turn my attention to Diego, crouched with Varyyn near what appears to be a makeshift shrine. I come closer and find trinkets spread around a small wooden figurine.

“What's this?”

“Do you remember the religious war my people fought?” Varyyn asks. When we both nod, he continues. “Some sects believed that praying to individual Catalysts would bring them sooner.”

I squint at the idol, trying to make out some distinctive feature, dragon wings, a wolf's head, bear paws...

“Can you tell which one of us this is for?”

Diego lifts the idol to inspect it. As he does, something drops from a hole in the side into the dust at his feet. I bend to pick it up. It's a tarnished silver pen, with an engraving along the side: Grace Tamara Hall. My heart beats faster.

“This belongs to Grace!”

“What?” Diego snatches the pen from my hand to read the engraving. “She was here?”

“Perhaps,” Varyyn says.

Diego swallows and meets my gaze, his dark eyes troubled. “Allie, this pen looks old. I mean like old. This much tarnish on silver...”

“NO!” Craig's terrified cry makes us all jump. We all rush over to where he is stooped inside a narrow alcove, cradling something in his arms. My blood turns cold as it rushes out of my head to collect at my feet. Time seems to stop.

A body, mostly decayed, rests in Craig's arms. Still attached to a flap of rotting flesh on the scalp is an unmistakeable streak of maroon hair.

“...No...”

“...Th-that can't be Zahra...” Quinn whimpers. “...Right...?”

Trembling violently, Craig slips the bracelets off the corpse's bony wrists. They're familiar. Too familiar. Raj sucks in his breath sharply, hand flying to his mouth. Michelle backs away, her face ashen.

“No...”

“Th-there's writing over here,” Raj says weakly, pointing to the wall. “It says, 'You will be next.'”

Quinn dissolves into tears beside me. Sean curses under his breath, furiously kicking at the tree. I stare numbly at the grotesque pile of sloppy flesh and brittle bones. It...it can't be. It's not possible. ...I passed the test. They were alive...they were all alive... At least...they were alive when I reached the Threshold. But now the cycle has been broken. And this may have been my last chance. ...Have we lost her for good this time? Our Zahra? Our snarky lich queen, our brilliant hacker, our strong, fearless crow? I never saw her flinch, never saw her break. In another lifetime, I watched her singlehandedly destroy Rourke's entire empire. ...How could she be the first to go now, of all of us, when I was supposed to have finally gotten it all right?

Craig straightens slowly, clutching the bracelets, his face a twisted red mask of grief and fury.

“We had only just...I was going to...” He chokes on a sob, looking uncharacteristically small and helpless. Michelle reaches out to lay a hand on his shoulder, but he pulls sharply away, whirling to slam his fist into a wall with a furious cry.

“Hey, man, hold on--” Sean steps forward to pull him away, but Craig throws all his weight into a shove that actually sends Sean sprawling to the stones. His breath starts coming out in fast, shallow gasps.

“Craig, stop!” I cry. “Craig, you need to breathe!”

He ignores me, whipping around to face the dark recesses of the ruin. “Hey! Ghost! Come out so I can kick your ass!” He beats his fists wildly on the stone walls. A loud snap echoes across the plaza. Suddenly, the floor under my feet is trembling.

“Uh, Big Guy, I think you made it angry...” The floor drops about a foot beneath us, throwing us all off balance.

“Hang onto something!” Kele shouts. The stone under our feet starts to split apart, receding towards the walls and leaving us less room to stand on by the second.

“...I told you so,” Michelle mutters.

“Grab onto the walls!” I shout. I grasp whatever handholds I can find on the uneven stone walls, looking worriedly over my shoulder at my friends. Everyone scrambles to get onto the walls or the trees. Except for Craig. He stands still as the floor recedes. His back is to me, but I don't need to see his face to guess at his thinking.

“Craig, don't be stupid!” Michelle screams. “Grab hold of something!”

Before anyone can stop him, he jumps into the gap.

“No! Craig!” There is a distant thud as he lands. Suddenly, the gap in the floor starts to close again, edges slowly creeping together.

“Dammit!” Michelle jumps off the wall and runs toward the narrowing gap.

“What are you doing?!” Sean cries.

“I'm not letting him get stuck down there alone!” she snaps, scrambling over the edge. She lets go of the ledge and disappears.

“Hold on!” Sean yells. “I'm coming too!” One by one, the others jump down into the gap. I raise my eyes to meet Diego's beside me. He smiles weakly.

“All for one and one for all, right?”

“...Here goes nothing...” I turn myself against the wall and reach out to grasp his hand. Together, we launch ourselves into the gap. As the stones snap shut over our heads, all I see is darkness. We tumble through the air and land in a pile with the others.

“Whose elbows are in my back?” Estela groans.

“My arm is goin' numb,” Jake complains.

“This is not an ideal cuddle puddle,” Raj concedes.

As we slowly untangle ourselves, my eyes start to adjust to the darkness, broken by one small shaft of light from above. It illuminates Craig as he pounds his fists against the wall.

“Come out, asshat!” he howls. “I need to punch you out of existence!”

“Dude, the ghost might not even have a corporeal form,” Raj points out.

“I don't care!”

Sean seizes Craig's shoulders and turns him around, forcing them to lock eyes.

“I know it hurts, man,” Sean says gently. “I know. I feel it too. We all do. We all cared about Zahra. But just take a second. Breathe. Just let yourself feel whatever you're feeling.”

For a long moment, Craig just stares at his friend. Then his face crumples, his lips quivering. He pulls away sharply and collapses onto the stairs. I rush to his side to put a hand on his shoulder.

“Craig. I promise, we'll avenge her.” I grip his shoulder, speaking through clenched teeth. “I swear, whoever or whatever took Zahra from us, we will make them pay.”

“Hell yeah we will, Alodia.”

“Will both of you stop and think for two seconds?” Estela snaps impatiently. Craig scowls at her.

“Of all people, I thought you'd understand!”

“I do understand. But whatever this ghost is might have information about the island.”

Craig's shoulders sag under the weight of his grief. “I'm just...I'm so tired of never being good enough. I wasn't good enough to get drafted--”

Sean looks sharply at him. “Wait, what?!”

“I wasn't good at school,” Craig continues, ignoring Sean. “I wasn't...I couldn't get to Zahra fast enough. It's just...why couldn't it have been me?!”

“Oh, Craig...” Michelle murmurs.

“She beat me at everything!” he cries. “She was smarter, cooler, always knew what to do...Why is she gone and a dumb, worthless loser like me still here?!” He dissolves into ragged sobs, tears running down his cheeks in rivers. For a long while, no one speaks. Then Diego yelps, raising a finger toward a glowing rock wall.

“Is that what I think it is?”

“There! That's it!” Estela exclaims.

Sure enough, the glowing ghostly figure is coming through the rock wall and descending the stairs toward us. Shock and disbelief momentarily halt Craig's tears as he stares at it. Then his face twists with rage.

“You! You killed my friend!” He lunges at the figure, throwing punch after wild punch, but his fist passes through it. The figure endures Craig's furious assault placidly, not moving. “I hate you! I hate you! I...why isn't it hurting me?”

“...Because it's Zahra?” Michelle suggests.

“What?!”

“Think about it. Who else's spirit would do things to try to help us?”

“Of course,” Sean murmurs. “It does make sense...”

Craig's face twists with fresh anguish. “Z-Zahra...? I'm...I'm so sorry...” He clasps his hands in what looks almost like a prayer. “I didn't find you fast enough. I wasn't there when you needed me. I was so sure that you'd be okay, and then I...I...I failed you...”

The ghost bends toward him, holding out its hand. A small, silvery ring rests in its palm. Craig looks at me, his eyes begging for guidance. I nod.

“Take it. I think you'll want to see this.”

He stretches out a trembling hand to accept the ring. “It's my class ring,” he mumbles. “My parents picked this one out a while ago. They were gonna give it to me at graduation.” I hold out my hand, silently asking permission to touch it. He passes it toward me, and I feel the familiar weightlessness as the world around me dissolves.

A football stadium, packed with spectators. “Ultra Bowl” is emblazoned on the grass beneath the players' feet. The Eagles lead the Condors by four points, with five seconds on the clock.

“We can still pull this off, Craig,” Sean says. “Can you make a hole for me?”

“All day, every day, bro,” Craig replies.

“All right, let's do this. 64, 96, Fireball...Hut hut!”

The defensive lineman barrels down toward the quarterback, but the linebacker pushes him hard to the side. The quarterback scrambles up the middle, flying past the front line. Two defenders come from the side and begin to pull him down. He laterals the ball to the linebacker before he's taken down.

“Get it!” Sean yells.

The defense goes for the linebacker, but he rolls through them, straight into the endzone.

“I don't believe it!” the announcer shrieks. “The Condors win! The Condors win the Ultra Bowl!”

“That's what I'm talking about!” Sean crows as fireworks explode over the field.

In a comfortable, cheerful office, Sean and Craig set down their controllers and high five each other. On the computer screen in front of them, animated figures are carrying out a giant trophy. The sound of a cheering crowd floats out from the speakers. Sean, dressed in his purple and black Condors uniform, grins at his friend.

“You're as good a lineman in game as you are in real life!”

Craig, dressed in jeans and a plain T-shirt, laughs. “Maybe real-life me five years ago!” he says, ruefully poking at his belly, which has grown a little bit rounder. “Not a lot of lineman training behind this desk.”

He closes the test rig on the screen, and Sean leans back, lacing his fingers behind his head. “It's good.”

Craig grins. “For real, bro, thanks for coming in for our cover photoshoot. You've become Touchdown 2021's biggest selling point.”

“Hey, anything for you man. Just gotta make sure the game only has my good plays in it.”

Craig snorts. “Dude, don't worry. We literally had to nerf your stats because you were so OP.”

Sean smiles, casting his eyes over the office. His eyes fall on a photo sitting on the desk in front of him, of him and Craig in their Hartfeld uniforms, side-by-side. Craig notices where his gaze has landed and frowns a little.

“...Hey, Sean?”

“Yeah?”

“How do you know when you're good enough at what you do?”

“Where's this coming from?”

“Okay, so you're literally one of the best athletes in the world, Raj basically owns the NomNom Network...Sometimes, I just...don't know if I can keep up, you know?”

“Aw, dude--”

“I know, it's dumb.”

“You're working on one of the biggest game franchises in the world. You found a life that makes you happy. Honestly, man, I'm really proud of you.”

“...Really?”

“Since getting this job, I gotta say I feel like you've come into your own. You stopped trying to pull people down, and found something you loved. I think that's awesome.”

“And I haven't even told you about CheeseFry-day.”

“Is that where you get cheese fries on Friday?”

“It's the best, dude.”

A photographer wanders in from the next room. “Mr. Gayle, we're ready for you. Follow me, please.”

“That's my cue.”

“Sure is,” Craig agrees. “And I got a meeting coming up. But hey. Thanks, man. I mean it. I don't know how I woulda gotten here without you.”

“Nah.” Sean claps him on the shoulder. “This is all you, Craig.”...

… I'm back in the cavern again, my hand and Craig's still on the ring. The others stare at us and the ghostly figure between us.

“Did...did you just see...?”

I smile. “Yeah. I did.”

The ghost is shining brighter now. Craig turns toward it. “I think...I know what she's trying to tell me.” He offers the spirit a watery smile. “Zahra, if it's you, I just wanna say something, before you go...”

The spirit looks down at him, apparently waiting for him to continue. He draws in a shuddering breath.

“I...I think I'm in love with you. And I don't know how to stop. I don't think I can. I just started to think that I could be your Player 2...” His voice cracks with anguish, and he covers his face. “I wish I could've stopped this from happening. But I know why you showed me the future. You want me to keep going. So...I'll do my best.”

The spirit starts to recede into the wall, but it keeps its hand stretched toward Craig. As it fades, Craig dissolves into fresh tears, crying brokenly into his hands. Sean and Michelle rush forward, wrapping their arms around him as he sags toward the floor.

“We're right here, Craig,” Sean murmurs, looking ready to cry himself. “Right here.”

“I'm such a wuss,” Craig says bitterly. “Why couldn't I tell her...?”

“...Tell me what?”

Everyone freezes at the unmistakeable voice behind us. We turn slowly, hardly daring to believe it. But it's true. Her dark hair is ragged and uneven, as if she's been stubbornly maintaining her undercut with sharpened rocks, and her signature maroon streak is faded and somewhat off-color. But there's no mistaking her. It's Zahra.

Quinn is the first to say it. “...Y-you're alive!”

Estela blinks, looking back towards where the ghost has faded. “Then what just...”

“Z...?” Craig's voice trembles. “Is that you?”

Zahra coughs awkwardly, shifting her weight. “Craig, did you, uh...mean all that stuff? About me dying?”

Craig is off like a gunshot, pulling Zahra into a crushing embrace. She yelps as the breath rushes out of her, grimacing. Craig lifts her bodily off the floor, bouncing with elation.

“It's you! You're not dead! You're really not dead!”

“To be not dead, I need to breathe!” she croaks, squirming. He sets her down, but he only pulls back slightly.

“Sorry about that. Actually, not sorry. You're alive!”

“If I do die, you are not allowed to speak at my funeral. That was cheesy as hel--” She's cut off by Craig's lips pressed firmly to hers. Quinn laughs.

“Aww!” she cooes.

“Should we turn around?” I quip, aware that I'm grinning like an idiot and not really caring. Zahra, kissing Craig back with passion, puts her middle finger up at us. After a moment or two, they reluctantly break apart. Zahra looks Craig over.

“I guess it's cool that you're not dead or whatever either.”

“So...Zahra, you're buddies with the ghost?” I ask. She looks reproachfully at me.

“No, you doofus. I am the ghost.”

“Then, the spooky noises? The floor opening up?”

She grins, clearly pleased with herself. “Speakers playing sounds based on a randomized time interval.”

“The blood?” Jake asks.

“Had to eat a few squirrels the last couple months. Figured the blood was a nice touch.”

“A couple months?!” Raj yelps.

“Yeah, let's skip past that part,” she mutters.

“What about the floor?” Michelle asks.

“You mean my masterpiece,” Zahra answers with a wicked grin. She digs a small flashlight out of her pocket and points it at the ceiling. A large series of wires and supports rest under each stone square. I whistle lowly.

“You have been busy. And you managed to fool those Arachnid troops.”

She laughs. “Did they piss their pants this time? I hope I got it on video.”

“Okay, I get pretending to be a ghost,” Quinn says. “But why fake your own death?”

Zahra shrugs. “Rourke can't kill me if he thinks I'm dead.”

“You almost convinced us,” Sean replies softly.

“Yeah, well...you're here. I'm here. It all worked out.”

“That still doesn't explain the glowy thing that's trying to give us stuff,” Raj points out.

“Glowy thing?” Zahra repeats, blinking. “I didn't have a glowy thing.”

“Okaaaaaay,” Jake drawls. “Then who the hell is Beetlejuice and why is he coming after us?”

Heavy, clunky footsteps on the staircase distract us from speculating further. We shrink into a protective huddle, turning towards the sound. I feel my blood run cold.

Oh, no...please, no...not here...not now...

The Endless stands in front of us, her aged face once more concealed behind her visor. The flame that once danced over her mechanical right hand is gone.

“I'm afraid there is something else you need to worry about.”