#//Those times tend to coincide with when he up and decides to head out early for whatever reason

[spencers-renaissance]

I found my way home

Summary: After Spencer tells Hotch about his recent autism diagnosis, he expects that to be the end of it. Somehow, though, it keeps coming up, and Hotch keeps proving himself to be the best father figure he could have asked for. 

Tags: autistic spencer, protective hotch, hurt/comfort, fluff, paternal hotch, team as family

TW: mentions of ableism, one small instance of ableism & homophobia 

Pairing: Gen 

Word Count: 4.1k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

This was borne from my conversations with @criminalmindsvibez about the lack of autistic spencer fics and her amazing headcanons. While I'm not autistic, Emily is, and helped me to portray Spencer's autism as accurately as possible. That said, please feel free to correct me on anything I got wrong :)

Spencer had made an effort to get into work even earlier than usual today. He’d ridden the metro through the city, dipping his hand into his messenger bag every few minutes to compulsively check that the slim letter he’d received in the post the other day is still in the front pocket where he’d safely placed it that morning. He brushes his fingers over the paper once more as he enters the near-empty bullpen, the letter cool from the winter air.

It’s still so surreal to him that this is where he works. After years of dreaming of working for the FBI he’s finally here, and even though it’s been his place of work for almost two months now, he’s still not used to it. The warm offices are a nice reprieve from the wintry December wind, and he can feel himself relaxing as he heads to his desk. Leaving his coat and messenger bag on his chair, he pulls the letter out of the front pocket and runs his index finger along the edge. He finds himself biting his bottom lip as he tries to work up the courage to go and see Hotch. 

Sucking in a deep breath, he marches determinedly up to Hotch’s office, entering as soon as his knocks are answered. 

“Reid,” Hotch says pleasantly as he takes a seat opposite his desk, realising belatedly that he probably should have waited until he was invited. “You’re in early. What can I do for you?”

Nervously, Spencer hands him the letter he’d couriered across the city so carefully. He’d taken care to open it neatly with his letter opener but the return address on the back has been stamped at a crooked angle, and it bothers him every time he notices it. He can’t stop looking at it now as he taps his fingers anxiously against his leg in the pattern of the Fibonacci sequence, a safe and familiar reassurance played out by his nervous fingers. He watches apprehensively as Hotch pulls the letter out of the envelope, unfolding it and skimming his eyes down the page, taking in the news Spencer’s been so anxious to share with him.

Diagnosis: Asperger’s Syndrome

God, it had been a long process. He’d had to seek out a doctor in DC who diagnosed adults, paid for all the consultations and diagnostics himself — his insurance certainly wouldn’t cover it, not that he’d feel comfortable using his cushy FBI insurance for something so personal anyway — and the whole process had taken far longer than he’d expected. Finally, though, the envelope had arrived in the mail, and he officially had a diagnosis. 

Of course, he’d had his suspicions for years, especially after one of his professors during his second PhD had casually asked whether he’d ever been tested, planting a seed in his brain that led to many late nights in the library, reading all the literature available to him. It’s why he’d found it strange that it had felt so validating to finally receive that letter in the post. But it had.

The label made sense, and now that he had a diagnosis from a medical professional he felt comfortable to share it with others; he’d been far too paranoid about being questioned, not being believed or lectured about the evils of self-diagnosis no matter how he was confident in himself. He didn’t tend to be an insecure or self-conscious person, but after years of bullying and trauma surrounding what he now knew for sure to be his autistic traits, he couldn’t help but feel almost protective of his affirming label. 

Now though, it’s an irrefutable statement. Dr Spencer Reid has autism, and the first person he wants to tell is Hotch.

“I had no idea you were getting tested, Reid,” Hotch says, a hint of surprise bleeding into his voice. “Is there any specific reason you wanted to share this with me?”

“Well… I felt like someone on the team should know,” Spencer starts carefully, afraid to give too much of himself away, “and I thought that someone in a leadership position was the best option. Gideon has never been very… supportive of my autistic traits or behaviour, so I thought that you— that you would be the best option.” He feels awkward, fidgeting in his chair as he watches Hotch’s serious face and kind eyes absorb the information. 

“That trust in me means a lot, Reid,” he says, a rare smile making its way onto his face. In that moment, Spencer knows he made the right decision. “How can I make things easier for you? Is there anything you need me to be doing differently?”

“Uh—” He hadn’t really been anticipating that question and it catches him off guard: he’d predicted a quick nod of acknowledgement, a request to photocopy the letter so it can be put on file followed by a swift dismissal, but the letter is now sitting on his side of the desk: clearly, Hotch intends on keeping this between them. This is far from what he expected.

“Why don’t you start by telling me about autism and how it might affect your work?” Hotch corrects himself, recognising quickly Spencer’s need for specifics. “I’ll admit I don’t know much beyond some probably rather unhelpful stereotypes.”

Spencer nods. He can answer that question. “As everyone knows I often go off on tangents,” he begins, “and that’s because my special interests — or hyperfixations — often coincide with our work, so I know a lot about the topics we’re investigating. If I do that, just redirect me to the case and I’ll be fine. It’s also really hard for me to have to present myself in a certain way all the time. Vocal stims and gestures are the most satisfying to me but I often have to mask them, which I’ve never been very good at anyway, and it’s fairly exhausting. That’s why I often excuse myself; I go to the bathroom or a secluded hallway and stim on my own. My doctor also told me I tend to overcompensate in social situations and over-perform emotion. Those are the basics, I guess, but it’s a very complex disorder and since it makes up me as a human being, I can’t exactly explain all of it in one conversation.”

“No, that’s fine, Reid, you’ve given me a good picture of what to expect, thank you.” Hotch smiles at him, fondness in the crinkles around his eyes and the softness invading his usually stern expression. “First of all, you never have to feel like you need to excuse yourself to stim. Do you think it would be helpful if we told the rest of the team so they know what to expect? I’m assuming vocal stims are saying certain words or making sounds…?”

Spencer nods. 

“Okay, so if you needed to do that we could just continue the conversation while you get it out of your system. Gestures certainly wouldn’t be a problem. How do you feel about that?”

He hadn’t really considered telling the rest of the team but it seemed sort of intimidating, like he’d be opening a vulnerable side of himself to people he didn’t even know that well. On the other hand, they’d all been so understanding of his quirks and odd behaviour so far without even knowing the reason behind it. He’d never once been made to feel the way he used to at school, forced to either pretend to be someone else completely or be isolated and ostracised. 

He settles for, “I’ll think about it.” 

“That’s fine. There’s no pressure,” Hotch assures him. “I’m very happy you told me, Reid. I hope you know you can come and talk to me about anything, whether it’s about this or something completely different.”

Spencer leaves his office with the letter back in his hands, no notes or copies having been made, feeling almost elated. Never in a million years would he have expected that to go so well. 

⭐️

He doesn’t really expect it to come up again. He’d told Hotch so that he could understand him a bit better, and also because Hotch had quickly assumed a protective, almost paternal role in his life and he wanted to share the piece of news with him whether he was leading his department or not. That was supposed to be it, though, he didn't think anything would materially change, especially since he decided not to tell the team about the diagnosis just yet.

But almost immediately after he’d told Hotch his diagnosis, his rambles began to be gently redirected back to the case, sometimes without him even noticing. He wasn’t rudely cut off by anyone anymore, Hotch always steering him back on course before anyone else can jump in and hurt Spencer’s feelings. It’s so… kind that it almost feels foreign, and he finds himself gravitating towards the older man more and more, sitting next to him on every jet journey and staying glued to his side during cases. 

His newfound protectiveness over Spencer is only demonstrated more clearly a few months after their conversation in Hotch’s office when they’re on their way to New Mexico for a case. The second he spots that the murder victims had all been found with different Fitzgerald quotes scrawled on sheets of paper found in their own personal notebooks, ripped out and left for investigating officers to find, he launches into an info-dump to rival info-dumps. 

He can’t help that literature is a special interest of his, made all the more intense by the fond childhood memories of reading to his mother in her bed. Fitzgerald had been her favourite author of the Modern Era, and he’d spent hours analysing significant passages in his novels as a child, so he starts explaining the literary merit of each of the quotes left at the crime scenes. 

Apparently, he doesn’t hear the first two times Hotch tries to direct him back on topic, but he hears it when Gideon shouts, “Spencer! Long and unnecessary tangents are not conducive to actually solving these cases. Get back on topic. Now.” He’s loud enough to briefly knock him back several decades to memories of his father screaming at his mother’s schizophrenic babbling, when she’d become convinced that the villains of her favourite novels were trying to break into the house.

Spencer stops mid-sentence and stares at Gideon, who is staring right back. Everyone’s watching the two awkwardly, but the short moment of silence is quickly broken by Hotch. “There is absolutely no need to be that rude, Jason,” he says disapprovingly, while he lays a hand on Spencer’s arm in a light, absent-minded sort of touch. “Reid may have been off-topic but he deserves respect just like everyone else on this team. Nobody needs to be shouted at like that.” He directs his attention back to Spencer. “Why don’t you tell us how those Fitzgerald quotes could help us solve the case, Reid?” 

He gives him an encouraging look, and when he looks around the jet, everyone else is, too. Carefully, he starts speaking again, a little afraid of being cut off again, but after a few sentences of relevant explanation he regains his momentum. It’s more than a little vindicating when it’s his ‘unnecessary tangent’ that ends up being the key to cracking the case. 

⭐️

Soon after Hotch’s split from Haley, he approaches Spencer one evening when they’re the only two left at the office with a dinner invitation. Within the hour, they walk into a nice, low-key Italian place in the city and take a seat in the far corner of the restaurant. 

“Is everything okay?” Spencer asks a little uncertainly, confused as to why his boss is suddenly taking him for dinner. 

“I had this idea almost as soon as you told me about your autism,” Hotch explains, knowing by now that preambles and niceties only frustrate Spencer instead of setting him at ease. “I wanted to take you out for dinner every week to try and give you a space to ramble about all your special interests and not feel like you have to mask around everyone. But when I was with Haley, all my personal time was obviously spent with her and Jack. Now, I have the time to dedicate to you and all the incredible knowledge you’re hoarding in that brain of yours.”

“Really?” Spencer asks excitedly. The idea of uninhibited space to talk about the recent knowledge he’s acquired and not have to feel insecure or worry about performing social skills he doesn’t see the point of is everything he’s ever wished for, and something so wonderful being provided by Hotch only makes it better. 

“Really.”

Spencer wastes no time. He dives right in. “I was just watching a documentary the other day about volcanoes and their ability to trigger lightning storms with their voltage,” he begins. “Basically, magma rises toward the volcano’s surface, its water rapidly turns to vapor, which shatters the molten rock into tiny particles and creates charged particles. When the ash plume erupts into the atmosphere, the densely packed particles collide, driven by momentum. Friction then affects their electrons, becoming electrically charged. Positively and negatively charged electrons separate in the ash plume which creates a charge imbalance that builds an electric charge strong enough to trigger a lightning storm.” 

“That’s incredible.”

“I know,” Spencer says excitedly. “If the ash plume rises high enough in the atmosphere ice forms, and when ice, hail, and supercooled liquid droplets collide, the rates of lightning explode, it’s crazy.”

They’re briefly interrupted by a waitress taking their orders, but as soon as she leaves, Hotch gets him to jump back in. “What about that lecture you attended last week… the literature of 18th Century England or something?”

“19th Century English Lit, yeah!” He’s so eager to finally share this with somebody who will genuinely listen to him, and he can’t help it when his arms start to flap excitedly. Remembering where he is, he doesn’t try to mask it, pin his arms to his sides and simply deal with and suppress the innate urge to stim, he lets his body do what it wants to. Instead of eliciting a strange, sideways look, Hotch just smiles fondly.  

“The lecturer had this fascinating theory on Dickens. I’ve always seen him as a pretty straight forward author of picaresque fiction, obviously combined with facets of melodrama. And it’s common knowledge that he was inspired by the novel of sensibility, of course. But I’d never thought about the stylistic and lexical choices in his works beyond standard analysis, and this lecturer went on a deep dive into his use of collocation and it opened my eyes…”

He spends the whole evening stimming to his heart’s content while detailing every current interest of his to Hotch, who simply listened intently while eating his meal slowly, dragging out the meal for as long as Spencer needed. “Let me give you a lift home,” Hotch insists after footing the bill, leading him out into the warm evening air.

“Oh, I don’t mind taking the metro,” he replies truthfully. 

“I know. But it would make me feel better to drop you home safely. It’s late and seeing you into your apartment building would give me peace of mind.”

“Sure,” Spencer agrees happily, he’s still buzzing from such a nice evening and the least he can do for Hotch is let him rest easy tonight, so he climbs into the passenger side of his car. A few minutes into the car ride home, he realises he should probably actually verbalise just how much he enjoyed dinner. “Thank you, Hotch. I don’t think anybody’s ever done something so nice for me before.”

“Don’t mention it, Spencer,” Hotch replies, smiling even though he doesn’t take his eyes off the road. Spencer very much likes it when Hotch uses his first name, and he’d been doing it all evening. He doesn’t really understand why it feels so nice, just that it makes him feel… special, maybe.

“Don’t mention it, Spencer,” he repeats, before freezing as he realises what he’s said. He’s got so used to not masking all evening, he’s not in the right rhythm and mindset to suppress the urge to repeat Hotch’s words. He’s been so nice the whole evening, the last thing Spencer wants is for Hotch to think he’s mocking him. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Hotch reassures him, tapping his arm lightly as he smiles encouragingly. 

“Don’t mention it, Spencer,” he says again, repeating it a few times in relief before the itch is satisfied. He really does have the best boss/friend in the whole world. There’s no doubt about that. 

⭐️

Rossi’s initial reaction to Spencer had admittedly been a bit rocky, and having Hotch undeniably on his side was the only thing that made those first few months bearable. He never let them go off on their own; never put Spencer in a position where he’d have to be alone with him. Gradually, though, Rossi adjusted to his quirks and he became almost as protective of Spencer as Hotch.

That doesn’t bode well for the local sheriff when they’re on a case in North Carolina. He’s been prickly since they arrived, being as stubborn and uncooperative as possible, slowing down their progress on actually solving the case, and Spencer’s noticed him being a little extra rude to him in particular. It doesn’t massively bother him — it’s not exactly like someone’s aversion to him is a novel concept — but he can feel some sort of tension coming from the others. It happens a lot more now that they know about his autism and are more aware of themselves and others.

He tries to ignore it the best he can; he puts his head down and focuses on the geographical profile, going wherever he’s sent. Besides, the sooner they solve this case the sooner they can get out of North Carolina and back to DC. On their third day on the case, he’s working quietly in their designated corner of the police department alongside Hotch and Rossi while the others are out investigating in various different places. It’s a nice environment, and even though both men are his superiors, he feels more relaxed in their company than in anybody else’s.

It’s a relatively pleasant morning — considering the whole trying to catch a brutal serial killer thing — until they need to ask the sheriff a question. He saunters over, a tense and angry expression on his face, and Spencer can’t help but feel a little off, the confusing tension in the air that Spencer can’t quite identify making him anxious in his inability to properly decipher it. “Gentlemen,” he says, already frustrated. Spencer suspects it’s a pride thing; not many police departments like being shown up enough to have the FBI called in.

Eager to know the answer to their question, Spencer’s the one to jump in and ask. “Sheriff, we were just wondering whether the town gets much traffic from the local university or—”

He’s cut off by the sneering, towering man. “I’m not taking any questions from your kind,” he says aggressively. 

“I’m sorry?” Spencer squeaks as Rossi and Hotch both prepare to say something in response.

The sheriff cuts them off before they can get their likely diplomatic and calming words out. “Homo retards aren’t welcome around here.”

“Hey!” Rossi shouts as he leaps out of the chair, grabbing him by the collar as he’s helped by the element of surprise. “You don’t fucking talk to Spencer like that, you hear me? Weak, cowardly men like you—”

“Dave,” Hotch says placatingly, putting a hand on his shoulder and diffusing the situation. “Listen, Sheriff, we are only here to help you. But if you can’t respect my agents then we’re going to have a problem. Either you’re civil to Dr Reid, or I’m reporting you to the NC Sheriff’s Association. You hear me?”

The sheriff’s pride is clearly wounded, but he at least nods before giving them all a scornful look and walking away. 

“We didn’t even get to ask the question,” Spencer says anxiously, suddenly feeling out of his depth, like he can’t quite get enough air. 

“Dave, try and get an answer,” Hotch directs, taking charge of the situation. “Spencer, come with me.” He takes him into a secluded hallway for a little privacy, sitting him down on the cool linoleum before sinking down next to him. “You’re okay.”

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” Spencer whispers over and over to himself as he rocks backwards and forwards, trying desperately to self-soothe.

“Do you want me to touch you?” Hotch asks. He’s been in enough of these situations with Spencer to know he’s usually in two very different headspaces: he either longingly craves the grounding touch of a hug or a hand on his back, or he needs complete space. He’s also learned that asking outright is the only way to get an direct answer. 

“Yes,” Spencer replies, before repeating it over and over again as he’s wrapped up in Hotch’s arms, head pressed against his chest, his hand pressing gently against the back of Spencer’s head. He starts to calm down as he manages to breathe to the heat of Hotch’s calm, steady heartbeat, the comforting touch of someone he trusts with his life also helping to bring him back down to earth. A good ten minutes after the altercation with the sheriff, he’s feeling much better and brings his head out of it’s safe cocoon between Hotch’s chest and hand. 

“Come on,” Hotch says kindly. “Let’s get back to the case, yeah? You can just sit and work quietly until you’re ready to hold a proper conversation again. How does that sound?”

Spencer nods tiredly, knowing that work will perk him back up again, and being surrounded by his team will make him feel safe, asshole sheriff or not.

⭐️

Over the years Hotch helps him through any hurdles that come his way, learning the exact nuances of Spencer’s characteristics and requirements, making sure to accommodate him in every way possible.

He brings an extra, super-soft sweater in his go-bag in case Spencer ever forgets his and needs something gentle on his skin but tight enough to make him feel secure. He buys him stimming toys, dropping them on Spencer’s desk before he even arrives at work and lets him use his office whenever the lights and noise of the bullpen get too much, drawing the blinds and giving him the space he needs. Rossi doesn’t even question it anymore when Hotch shows up with a stack of paperwork and moves into his office for the morning. 

It wasn’t until Hotch made a concerted effort to make his life easier that Spencer realised how hard it had been fighting through life on his own. So when he realises Hotch’s birthday is coming up, he decides he wants to show his gratitude. It’s never been easy for him to express emotions, especially since he’s never really found it rude when people don’t thank him, but he knows that for most neurotypical people, appreciation is important. 

So he talks it over with Derek and on Hotch’s birthday, he comes into work to see Spencer waiting in his office with balloons, a cake, a card, and a present. He’d spent hours trying to find the right words to explain how he feels, to find the right words to show Hotch just how much everything he’s done for him means, but eventually he’d settled on something simple:

Caroline B Cooney wrote: “I found my family. I found the right thing to do. I found my way home.” 

I found all of these things when I joined the BAU, but more specifically when I walked into your office, hands shaking, clasping a letter I’d been waiting for all my life. Thank you. 

Hotch reads it with tears in his eyes before taking in the cake, a classic birthday cake Spencer had bought at the store, the words “Happy Birthday Dad” written in blue icing. He didn’t really understand why the cake had stood out to him, or why he associated the word ‘dad’ with someone who wasn’t related to him at all, but he’d trusted his gut and with Derek’s cheerleading, he’d bought it. 

“Oh, Spencer,” Hotch says tearfully. “Can I hug you?”

Feeling only mildly uncomfortable at the visible display of emotion Spencer doesn’t know what to do with, he nods and steps into Hotch’s comforting embrace. “This means the world to me,” Hotch murmurs quietly as he stands, hugging Spencer for as long as the younger man can stand it. 

Spencer’s still not completely sure why he’s managed to make him so emotional, but at least he can trust that it’s a good thing, that Hotch is happy and pleased and reassured. And if he can make him feel even a smidgen as happy as Hotch has made Spencer over the years, well. He’ll consider his long and boring trip into the city to buy the cake, present and card worth it.

Quick Note: Spencer is diagnosed with Asperger’s because that part of the fic is set in 2005. These days he would be diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD)

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @strippersenseii

[akaiamedama]

Of crocodiles and rings and a possible connection to a teased weakness

Crocodile is a guy that is real extra and dresses sharp and loves his bling bling, right? He’s a man of high standards, so of course, he’s gotta wear bling to show that. Other bling loving characters are Capone Bege and Blackbeard for example. All three of them like to show off that bling. Now why do I mention the other two? Coz look at these three bling loving gentlemen, wearing rings on every finger and tell me where the difference lies. I’ll wait.

Exactly!

As opposed to Bege and Blackbeard, Crocodile doesn’t wear a ring on every finger. Obviously he cannot wear 10 rings coz he only got one hand with 5 fingers but he also never wears 5 rings. No, no. This guy, ladies and gentlemen, kinda makes it a point to always leave out one finger and that’s the ring finger. Ha- interesting.

Now, of course this could be mere coincidence. But let’s be realistic here, it’s Oda. He clearly has a reason for it as he’s been true to this detail ever since Crocodile was introduced over a decade ago and the only real question is ‘why’?

Why would Crocodile do that? He clearly loves wearing rings so why not wear them on every finger? Why leave out the ring finger for crying out loud? If one wanted to leave a finger without a ring, one would probably leave out the pinky or the thumb but who puts rings on every finger and leaves out the ring finger? I tell you who.

Crocodile. That’s who.

If you’re one who believes in symbolism and all that stuff, then you’d probably find it interesting that the ring finger symbolises releationships with others especially romantical ones as it is seen closest to the heart and therefore or because of it is the finger a wedding ring is worn on. In most cultures the engagement ring is worn on the right hand and the wedding ring on the left as the right hand is often the ‘physical’ one and has a greater visibility. It’s probably interesting to note that the left hand is considered to represent your character and beliefs. Ha. Interesting that Crocodile is missing that one, huh? Anyhow, in Crocodile’s case left or right hand doesn’t really matter as he only has one left (duh) so an argument can be made that sides don’t matter and the importance lies on the finger itself.

The way it looks right now is that he’s making a statement leaving out the ring finger and there are a few possibilites here. Of course it could be a family ring and he could be from an important family but really, not only would that be a bit to similar to Doflamingo, it would also not make sense to not just replace the family ring on the occations he’s not wearing it. But he never wears a ring on that finger so one can only come to the conclusion that there’s some sentimental thought behind that.

The most logical would be that there is a ring he believes should be on that finger. Either he’s keeping it free for a future event coz he doesn’t have the ring yet (which I doubt) or he’s keeping it free coz technically there already is a ring for the finger. This could be a ring he doesn’t have anymore and regrets it (like he lost it with his left hand or threw it away) or a ring he does have but decides not to wear for his own reasons. Whichever it is, it clearly has such an important value that he doesn’t just covers it up or replaces it. 

Now, given the ring finger and it’s symbolism the thought of a wedding ring isn’t too far fetched. We don’t know enough about his past to say that he could never have been married so I think it’s worth looking into.

Let’s just imagine for a second, that the ring missing is indeed a wedding ring, what could that mean?

He could have had a wife but she died and even though he’d technically not be married anymore, people who lost their partner almost always keep their wedding ring as a memento. If they move on, they don’t wear it anymore but they often keep it. This could give another perspective to the ‘wounds’ Daz was referring to after Marineford as he was clearly not talking about Luffy’s physical wounds but about the emotional wounds that came with losing a loved one.

Crocodile could have had a wife but she betrayed him and he took the ring off as to break the relationship and connection. Then the choice to not wear a ring on that finger in the future could serve as a reminder to himself not to trust people, not even those close to you. This could possibly explain his huge trust issues.

However, these two scenarios, while possible, don’t strike me as the most likely simply due to the two following scenes:

“If you want to protect something, do it right!!” 

This could be totally random and only refer to the moment at hand but it could also indicate that he knows a thing or two about how to successfully protect someone. Which leads us to the infamous

“I know one of his weaknesses ...!! But if he cooperates with us ... then I won’t say anything about it!!”

Think about it, the biggest weakness ANY pirate of Crocodiles caliber could have is a loved one or people they care about and their identity and location to be known by the public or enemies (marines, pirates etc.) because no matter how powerful a pirate you are, if information like that was to spread and reach the wrong ears, this could have catastrophic consequences for you and the people you care about. It’s used over and over in OP stories like when the marines hunted down Gol D. Rogers offspring and slaughtered all newborn who could potentially have been Roger’s child or when the marines swore to kill Luffy for being Dragon’s son or when Zeff was used as leverage to force Sanji to comply. I doubt anyone knows Usopp is Yasopp’s son or that he had a woman and child in Syrup village otherwise someone would have probably attacked them to get back at Yasopp. Maybe that’s one of the reasons he left them. As to protect them.

Ivankov and Croc met years ago when Croc was still considered a rookie, so in his early/mid twenties. If there is indeed a ring to that finger and the person is still alive, Ivankov could know her identity or location and this could totally be the weakness Ivankov was refering to. Of course this only works if the person is still alive. 

Now I know, you’re probably scratching your head, thinking I might be a bit nuts going this direction considering it’s Crocodile we’re talking about but really, think about it. His choice of jewelry is mega weird so what could be the reaaon for it? Also it’s hardly the weirdest theory out there (looking at you femCroc theorists).

This would also tie in neatly with why he decided to have his Baroque agents working in teams of two with male/female. I mean, unlike other characters, he clearly doesn't seem to see women as the weaker sex and him having his agents work in pairs has to be grounded somewhere. Maybe he was raised like that and his parents where a good example of how well men and women complement each other or maybe he made the experience himself. If so, I tend to think that he wasn't betrayed by the woman... or maybe he was and that's one of the reasons why he was so paranoid and basically expected Robin to betray him. All possible, really.

It’s also apparent that Oda incorporates marriages a lot more often nowadays than he did in the early years of One Piece. Mr 9 and Mrs Mondey got married on a cover page and have a baby, Capone got married and his henchman Gotty married too, Sai and Baby 5 married, Sanji and Pudding were meant to marry and let’s not forget poor Senior Pink’s backstory. 

Last but not least, I’d like to point out a seemingly random fan question Oda answered in an SBS which seems just kinda odd once you consider everything I said above.

Now the question focuses on “they never had a child” and “I wonder what faces their children would have”, yet Oda starts with “They’ve been to weddings before ...” ... WOW. Really? Why would he say that? XD No one even asked about weddings. Funny. So they’ve been to weddings, huh? As what? Guests? Grooms? You know? It doesn’t seem to mean anything but if you consider Crocodile’s rings and such imo it’s just a weird thing to say. Then the mysterious “I wouldn’t say whether they had children or not ...” ..... 

Note: Especially during Alabasta Oda often forgets to draw Croc’s rings at all or accidentally leaves out the wrong finger but he is consistent with the rings since Impel Down. He still forgets them from time to time but he doesn’t switch the fingers anymore so one could reason that he had a vague idea of Crocodile’s reasons behind the rings when he introduced him but only solidified it or gave it more details once Croc showed back up. The anime and games however often just leave out the wrong ring probably thinking that it doesn’t matter.

[gwennavierre]

Doki doki

Adrien realizes something about his everyday ladybug.

Ladybug realizes something about her kitty.

-----

Marinette was a busy person. School, crushes, liars, bullies, akumas, friendship drama... those were things most teens in Paris dealt with, but Marinette was also Ladybug, the Guardian of the Miracle Box, and a budding fashion designer.

While others ran to hide from akumas, Marinette transformed into Ladybug to fight and defeat them with the help of Chat Noir and the occasional temporary miraculous holder.

While her classmates got to go to bed at a reasonable time after doing homework, Marinette stayed up for hours getting to know the kwamis and work out who would best be suited to be a temporary holder for them when needed.

And while other teens practiced their passions in waking hours, Marinette worked tirelessly through the nights and over weekends to finish commissions. Her non lucrative hobbies tended to get pushed aside, which was frustrating since they helped her relax...

She decided she could kill two birds with one stone (so to speak... Orikko wasn't a fan of that phrase..) by sharing her own interests with the kwamis while working on her current fashion projects.

A few of the kwamis had taken a shine to the anime shows and manga collection Marinette had. Some preferred reading the Japanese comics out loud to their Guardian as she stitched or crocheted. They delighted in making different voices for the characters or taking turns reading, emphasizing the sound effects and even acting out the fight scenes (Tikki especially liked acting out the romantic scenes solo and making Marinette giggle uncontrollably as she passionately kissed the air space in front of her own tiny face).

Marinette hadn't realized just how much more time she was spending watching anime and reading (or at least listening to) manga until a normal morning of class was about to start.

She had gotten there early for a change! Not planned, Tikki had simply set her phone alarm for earlier while she slept in an attempt to get her holder to class on time for a change. It worked, though Marinette realized what had happened the moment she burst through the classroom door. She had been scowling at her purse every few moments while idly sketching at her desk since then.

Her anger at her clever kwami dissipated however, when a certain blond boy waltzed into the room with the grace and energy of a gazelle. She couldn't help the love sick sigh that escaped her as he made his way to his desk, a small smile on his lips growing into a full grin as his eyes met hers.

"Good morning, Marinette!" His voice was sunbeams and she wanted to curl up in it and take a cat nap.

"G-good morning Daydreaming. I mean Adrien. Sorry.. I was daydreaming. Not that you're not a daydream because you are! Not, I mean. You're just a regular dream. I mean person. I... what I meant was... um..." Marinette wished more than anything else in that moment that the desk would turn into a black hole and suck her I to it.

Until she heard Adrien laughing softly. Until she saw the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. Until she heard his next words to her...

"I'm sorry for laughing, Marinette. I promise I'm not laughing at you, though. Not exactly anyway... it's just... you tend to get flustered like this sometimes and while I usually just pretend I don't notice so you don't get embarrassed, I... I honestly think it's adorable. Like... utterly ridiculously freaking cute and I had to tell you. I... I hope you don't mind me saying that." His voice had gotten quieter towards the end, his eyes glued to the sketchbook on Marinette's desk, his right hand rubbing the back of his neck, and his cheeks lightly flushed with pink.

Marinette had noticed all of this, somehow, and was staring at him in mild shock, eyes wide and unable to close her jaw for a moment.

When she came back to her senses (debatable), the first thing she did was clutch her chest dramatically and whisper just loudly enough for Adrien to hear: "doki doki"

...

...

Shocked green eyes snapped to mortified blue ones.

Marinette slapped a hand over her mouth in horror.

Adrien grinned like a kid who was given free reign in a candy shop.

Before he could stop her, however, Marinette stood up and shot to the classroom door, nearly colliding with a few classmates making their way in. She didn't return until the bell rang and steadfastly avoided Adrien's gaze whenever he turned around in his seat.

____

Shortly before class was supposed to get out, there was a muffled commotion from down the road.

Great. Akuma. Marinette made a quick request to use the bathroom, leaping out of her seat before the teacher could respond. She didn't notice Adrien leaving the classroom shortly after.

____

"Good job!" The superhero duo bumped fists after the miraculous ladybugs had cleaned up the mess made by the akuma. It had thankfully been a quick one. Ladybug had seemed a bit preoccupied during the battle. Chat didn't seem to mind, though. In fact... he looked quite pleased with himself. Ladybug raised an eyebrow at him.

"You're in a good mood today, kitty." She smiled at the smirk on his face, happy to have something else to think about other than her embarrassing blunder in the classroom earlier...

"Is it that obvious? Heh. I guess I am." Chat Noir searched Ladybug's face, wanting to tell her what happened but only if she genuinely wanted to hear about it. She tilted her face towards him and smiled expectantly. Good enough for him!

"So, uh... today, um. Do you read manga?"

Ladybug frowned in confusion. "Yeah? But... what does that have to do wi-"

Chat waved his hands in a mildly impatient gesture. "Getting there, just... context will help. So! I got to class and there was one person there already. This girl... I... I've been kinda crushing on her for a while..."

Ladybug felt something tighten in her chest at that, but dutifully chose to ignore it. She was happy he had finally started moving on. She was proud of him. This girl in his class was probably no where near as cool as her anyway. Wait, what? Ladybug shook her head to rid the intrusive thoughts and paid attention to her partner again.

"... she's always been like that around me but I thought it was because she hated me at first, or just felt uncomfortable because I'm fam- er... familiar or uh... something." Chat cleared his throat awkwardly. Ladybug gave him a look that seemed to be encouraging him to continue though her smile seemed a bit... off.

"Anyway. So today I say good morning to her and she starts fumbling over her words. They seemed so... I dunno... She kept accidentally calling me a dream, a daydream actually... and I just... I started laughing because it was sooooo cuuuute!" Chat had brought his closed fists to rest under his chin and his eyes glazed over at the memory of Marinette's earlier word salad.

Ladybug's brain was buzzing. It was driving her nuts. She knew what it was but it couldn't be... so that meant it wasn't. Right? Isn't that how things work? Oh, he's still talking. About that girl. Who just so happens to have done the same thing she did this morning. Funny thing, coincidences.

"... she ACTUALLY SAID 'doki doki'!! Can you believe it? Like... her eyes could have literally had hearts in them. There's no way I misinterpreted that, right? She likes me, right?? I mean... it makes sense, all the times she got flustered. It wasn't because she doesn't like me after all!!"

Chat had started pacing in a circle around what apparently was a lifelike statue of Ladybug, seemingly unaware of the switch.

"She ran out of the room right after and then left right before the akuma so I haven't had a chance to talk to her since, but I think, no wait, I KNOW she likes me and I want to ask her out and now I won't feel awkward asking to marathon an anime or something because she obviously likes that kind of thing too and I can't believe I didn't know that about her before but now I DO know and that means I can... um.... Ladybug?"

He stopped and stood directly in front of Ladybug, a look of concern and mild embarrassment on his features. Ladybug's eyes that had appeared to be staring into a void snapped to his. Her mouth clicked shut. Her face blossomed into a deep blush and she took two giant steps back from Chat, stumbling slightly. It was Chat's turn to frown in confusion.

"Ladybug, what's wrong?"

"N-nothing. I have to fo gome. Go home.

Chat's eyes narrowed. "Your school is already out for the day?"

"Yes" she lied. "Shirt day today."

"Um... okay? You mean short?"

"That's what I said."

Chat scratched the top of his head between the cat ears. Ladybug was acting really strange... it's almost like she's... no. It can't be. Can it?

"Ladybug... are you...."

"Chat..." It was a warning. But Chat Noir had to know....

"Are you jealous?!"

__________

Shall I continue this or leave it as a one shot?

[haberdashing]

second skin

the tale of jonathan sims, selkie.

on ao3

jonathan sims’ first memories are of living by the sea that he loved with a woman who feared it.

he longed to spend every second he could in the water. jon would race home after school every day and grab his skin and race back off to the beach, not listening to his grandmother’s shouts for him to stop. the water was always cool and sweet and right as it pressed against his skin.

he couldn’t understand, at the time, why she was always so worried about him.

threats didn’t stop him. the police having to intervene in his journeys towards the beach didn’t stop him. the water was his home as much as the air, and he didn’t care what he had to do to reach it, or who didn’t care for his actions along the way.

what finally stopped him from making those frequent treks to the beach was when his grandmother took his skin when he was at school and hid it away, saying that she would only give it back to him when she felt he was responsible enough to handle it.

the two never spoke of the matter again.

.

going to oxford for uni was... an experience. jon had never spent so much time inland before, had never lived somewhere that didn’t smell strongly of sea salt. it was disorientating, even more than going from bournemouth to oxford normally would be, and jon flailed a little at first--not in his classes, which he always aced, but in everything else.

and then he found his path, found his people, even found a girlfriend for some time. he started his studies of the paranormal and supernatural in earnest, though he never dared tell anyone why he was so interested in the topic.

(one night georgie happened to be writing a paper on selkie lore while jon was there, and somehow things devolved into her grabbing a fur coat from her closet and making jokes about jon stealing “her coat” from her.

jon bit his tongue until it bled to stop himself from shooting back that she wasn’t the one who had to worry about such things.)

.

jon’s grandmother passed away not long after his graduation from uni when he was living in london, still struggling to find his place in the world.

he’d almost forgotten that she had his skin until he stumbled upon it again.

it wasn’t anywhere too special, wasn’t locked up tightly. it was just in a dusty cardboard box underneath her bed, one of many.

jon almost didn’t recognize it at first. he thought it’d be smaller. it had been smaller when he’d lost it, after all. it must have kept growing as he did.

(some small distant part of jon’s brain wondered about the mechanics of a skin growing while unattached to the person it belonged to, the science behind it all, but it wasn’t as if he could go back in time and do experiments to prove any hypothesis he might develop.)

but he knew it by sight, and though it’d been over a decade since he’d last worn it now putting it on was like a reflex, a motion as practiced as if he’d done it daily all his life.

only after he put it on did jon remember why his grandmother had hidden it from him in the first place, realize the implications of it still being tucked away in this dusty old box.

maybe she didn’t understand. she wasn’t born to the water like he was, after all. she didn’t know what it was like, didn’t know how much of a part of him it was.

or maybe she understood well enough, and to her dying day, she still didn’t want him to have his own skin. maybe she didn’t believe that jon had matured enough to handle the responsibility of it, even after all this time.

he’d never get to ask her about it.

the skin was soft and warm, but as jon sat there in that gloomy old house, he still felt chilled to the bone.

.

when jon joined the magnus institute as a researcher, the first thing he was assigned to look into involved the history of the selkie-hunting field, especially as it related to a recent case involving two especially bold and bloody selkie hunters.

jon had avoided looking into the topic too closely before then. he knew his heritage came with risks as well as rewards, he wasn’t that naive, but he’d never wanted to face those risks head-on, never wanted to look into the details, had worried that doing so might well be enough to attract unwanted attention.

but it was his job now to read case after case about selkies being abused, being killed, being sold as slaves or spouses or pets... and the people who said that their pain didn’t count, didn’t matter, because after all, it’s not like they were human...

after the first day of this research, jon went out and bought a large safe, stuffed his skin inside of it, locked it up, and vowed never to mention the matter to anybody again unless absolutely necessary.

(it wasn’t until long after that first research session that jon first suspected that elias hadn’t assigned him that particular case by mere coincidence.)

.

jon knew the supernatural existed, of course. hell, jon was supernatural himself, despite all outward appearances to the contrary.

that didn’t make the sinking feeling that he was being watched every time he read a statement in his new position as head archivist any easier to stomach.

just because he knew some magic didn’t mean he knew this magic. he didn’t know what it was, didn’t know what it meant, and he didn’t like it, didn’t trust it.

it felt like the safest thing was to deny it all, play the skeptic. nobody’d suspect his own supernatural secret if he refused to admit that the supernatural was real, after all, right?

(for better or for worse, prentiss at least didn’t seem to discriminate...)

.

learning that gertrude had been murdered brought back memories of those early research sessions for the institute, except that jon knew this time there was a different motivation behind someone wanting to kill him. presumably, anyway.

it was kind of sad that jon could think of at least two different reasons someone might want to kill him now. he hadn’t even done anything to warrant what felt like a certain and looming execution. he was at risk simply because he existed.

jon investigated his coworkers’ secrets over the months that followed, but didn’t dare trust any of them with his own.

one target on his back was enough already.

(as jon found out the details of the true threat to his existence, as he hid in the tunnels under the institute from the thing that was not sasha, he wondered if, when it replaced him--and it seemed inevitable, at this point, seemed like a “when” rather than an “if”--if it would know the secret he’d hidden so well, or if his imposter would appear perfectly, blandly human, with nothing of value left hidden away in that safe in his flat.)

.

jon didn’t have much time to grab his things before heading to georgie’s, but he still made sure to bring his skin with him. he couldn’t risk someone else getting a hold of it or risk the safe being thrown away when he went on the run, ending up in a landfill far away with none aware of the precious cargo still hidden within.

naturally, when jon arrived at georgie’s door, halfway into a breakdown and carrying what appeared to be a thick fur coat in his arms, one of the first things she said to him was an offer to take his skin off his hands and put it away for him.

jon wasn’t sure of the exact expression he made upon hearing that offer, but based on the look on georgie’s face, it must have been quite the sight.

he stammered his way through his refusal, saying that it was a family heirloom, precious and fragile, and it wasn’t that he didn’t trust her, obviously he did, but he still preferred to handle it himself... and none of it was a lie, exactly--and perhaps that was what led georgie to back down, as she knew his tells well enough, knew that he wasn’t lying to her face--but he certainly wasn’t divulging the full truth, either.

jon caught georgie looking curiously at the skin a few times, but she never voiced the many questions she must have had about it, never said a word about it after that first night, and for that jon was certainly grateful.

.

the worst part about being kidnapped by the circus-

no, that wasn’t right. there were a lot of horrible parts about being kidnapped by the circus, and jon wasn’t sure which, if any, could truly take the title of “worst.” there were plenty of contenders for the title.

but one of the terrible parts about being kidnapped by the circus, at any rate, was that of all the places they could have taken him, they’d chosen to keep him by the sea.

he could smell the sea salt in the air, could feel the cool ocean breeze against his face. he was so close to the sea, the closest he’d been in years now... while bound to a chair, unable to approach the water he could sense was just a few short blocks away from him.

he could feel the sea calling to him, but he couldn’t answer its call, no matter how much he wanted to do so.

(jon wondered what the living mannequins that tended to him would do if, when they were in the middle of so painstakingly moisturizing his skin for nikola’s future use, he pointed out that that wasn’t even his real skin they were working on, that his true skin was safely locked up some distance away.

jon decided against finding out the hard way.)

.

jon told the archives staff, after he... got back, that he’d been held somewhere close to the sea.

martin asked how he could be so sure, and jon sputtered a bit before saying that he could smell the sea from where he’d been held.

it wasn’t a lie.

but apparently when most of them returned to the wax museum, ready to put a stop to the unknowing one way or another, none of the rest of them could smell it from that distance, even though the sea was right there, right there, how could they not-

none of them pressed the issue. they had enough to worry about already.

.

when jon returned to the institute, after waking up from his coma (after escaping death), he had assumed that his skin was long gone at this point, that his fears about leaving it in his place to be discarded or picked over by others had been assumed after all, that he would never see it again.

and then, in an unassuming plastic bag containing an assortment of his things that was all he had left to his name now, he found it, buried under an old band shirt and a few sets of underwear.

he knew what it was at a glance, of course, and he had to suppress his reflexive gasp, had to suppress his initial instinct to throw it on immediately. melanie and basira already thought he was a monster; jon had no interest in turning into a seal within sight of them and proving them both right.

but jon pressed his hands into the thick, soft fur, and for the briefest of moments, despite everything, the world felt right again.

.

jon wondered, briefly, if he really needed to remove a part of his body to serve as an anchor, if he really needed the boneturner’s assistance on the matter.

after all, his skin was already separate, already removed, already waiting for him in the archives.

but was that enough? he’d gone over a decade without it before, after all, and it hadn’t magically called him back or anything like that. he’d only stumbled onto it again by mere happenstance.

no, better to be sure, better to leave behind something that was always meant to be attached to him...

his rib would do the trick quite nicely.

.

when jon heard that there was a way to quit the institute, a way to leave behind the beholding, he grabbed his skin and brought it with him as he rushed to discuss the matter with martin.

they could leave, they could be free, they could be together; blindness was a small price to pay for that, wasn’t it? all martin needed to do was take his hand, take his skin... take it, martin, take it-

martin refused to take jon’s skin from him.

as jon cried afterwards, his tears tasted a bit like sea water.

.

the lonely was a poor imitation of a beach, really.

maybe if things had been different jon wouldn’t have noticed, but he knew beaches, knew the sea, and it didn’t make his eyes sting like this, wasn’t this quiet and empty and desolate.

it still called to him a little, but the call was not that of the ocean, but that of another part of himself, the part that didn’t dare connect with people, didn’t dare share the truth of his life with them.

jon ignored the call. he had a greater duty here.

besides, seeing martin’s face light up was more beautiful than the sea could ever be.

.

daisy’s safehouse was only a few short miles from the sea, though martin swore he couldn’t smell it, wouldn’t know how close it was if he hadn’t seen it on the drive there.

jon had his skin with him, of course, and part of him longed to retreat into the sea. the magic of the ocean was different than that which surrounded him now, and perhaps if he threw on his skin and launched himself into the depths, the beholding wouldn’t be able to reach him.

but then, martin wouldn’t be able to reach him, either.

martin was still human. jon was a monster in more ways than one these days, but martin was still human, and if jon went into the sea, martin couldn’t follow.

so he contented himself with seaside outings, dashing into the sea with his skin on like he was a child again, but this time the human onlooker by his side would laugh and join right in. martin loved him in both forms, and he loved martin, and that mattered more than giving in to the ocean’s call any day.

.

at least when the world got turned upside down, nobody cared what form jon took anymore. nobody cared if he was man or seal or both or something else entirely. nobody cared what kind of monster he was now.

the world had bigger problems to deal with these days.

[writing-fool]

mlqc | special kind of sadness

I’ve been having strange dreams lately. Maybe it’s because of the quarantine, or maybe because of my messed up sleep schedule. I don’t actually have severe nightmares, but somehow an idea for Victor + nightmares came up. It was going to be very short, so I included other types of comforting scenarios. Ahh...besides that, you might have noticed my url is writing-fool, right? It’s actually based off of a Korean song called Swimming Fool. But I think it fits with MLQC too, what with Lucien calling us ‘his little fool’ sometimes~ What a happy coincidence...

Love,

R.

Warning(s): TW! Lucien’s scenario includes a panic attack. 

Victor

You’re all about showing the world that you’re a grown woman with big girl pants on. You’re especially keen on proving to Victor that you can handle yourself, thank you very much. Even though he’s supposed to be your soft, loving boyfriend, he seems to grow stricter the longer you’re together.

“Really? You’re not capable of being a producer if you can’t even get these reports done.” Ouch. Your life doesn’t seem to be getting easier anytime soon.

So...you chalk it up as a grave, grave moment of weakness when you instinctively call his number at three in the morning, after waking up in a cold sweat. By the second ring, you regret your rash decision. What if he’s asleep? What if he thinks I’m some kind of weak child?

By the third, he answers.

“What. Why are you still awake?” His voice sounds as strict as ever. ‘Why are you still awake?’ is a question you would’ve asked if you were in a clearer mindset. Alas, this situation allows little clarity.

You decide against hanging up. I’m bothering him already, might as well apologise. “I-I must’ve misdialled. Sorry to bother you,” you mumble. You hate how your hoarse voice and ragged breaths betray the sobs that have barely subsided.

“...I’m coming over,” is all Victor says before abruptly hanging up.

It’s a twenty minute drive from his luxurious penthouse to your apartment, but you know he’ll make it in fifteen. Running to the bathroom, you try to fix your appearance to make you look more like a successful producer, and less like a woman gone mad. But while your hair can be combed down and your tears can be wiped away, nothing works against your bloodshot eyes, shaking hands and pale complexion.

The doorbell rings, and you’re in full panic mode. You really don’t want him to see you like this. But without him, you’re probably not sleeping tonight. Also, he’s here already. Wiping your sweaty palms on your pyjama pants one last time, you open the front door.

Even when he has his sleeves rolled up, shirt partly unbuttoned and hair mussed from running his hands through it, Victor is handsome. But today, you can’t bare to look at him. Your apartment floor suddenly seems incredibly interesting.

A small gesture encourages his entrance. The door is barely closed again, and he’s already got his arms wrapped around you, your face pressed against his chest. The warmth of his hug and his rapidly beating heart open the floodgates again, and while your boyfriend strokes your hair, you sob your fears out on his black dress shirt.

Later, when you’re both huddled in your queen-sized bed, he asks you why you didn’t tell him about the nightmare right away. “I thought you’d think I’m pathetic or something. You’re always so strict.” You look up at him, mouth formed into a small pout.

For a moment, he’s dumbfounded. Maybe he never considered the idea? Victor hesitates, before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’m sorry,” he sighs, “I’ll be more considerate from now on.”

And as Victor rubs your shoulder, legs intertwined with yours, you doze off under the cloudy night sky. But not before hearing his sweet whispers. “Lean on me more, next time. I’ll always be by your side.”

Lucien (TW: panic attack, minor mentions of death)

Disclaimer: I know this could be taken wrongly. I have no intention to romanticise mental illness. It isn’t something that makes you broken, nor is it a ‘fun’ or ‘special’ thing. The story is partially taken from my experience, so I know how this feels. I wrote this as a way to bring awareness in a light manner, and to show that sometimes, panic attacks can be alleviated with someone around. I hope it brings comfort to those who wish they had someone in moments like these.

Listening to Lucien’s lectures tends to transport you back to the time when you were still a university student. Ah, it is a nostalgic feeling. A part of you misses being in school; going out with friends, listening to the teachers drone on about various subjects, eating in the school’s cafeteria.

But if there’s one thing you don’t miss, it’s the immeasurable amounts of stress. So why is that the thing I’m reliving right now?

As a young adult, you struggled with anxiety and spontaneous panic attacks, rendering you vulnerable to a work overload. You’d think it’d gotten better, especially since you have to deal with a lot of projects as a head producer nowadays. However, it seems as though old habits do die hard...This week has been particularly taxing—emotionally, what with your father’s death anniversary, and mentally; an important and popular show just got compromised by one of the actors’ companies. All that, and the prospect of an even tighter schedule during Christmas season has sent you into a full-blown panic attack. 

Your initial plan was to just...ride this one out. That’s what you always did as a child. In an hour or two, your hands will stop cramping, your tears will stop falling, your breathing will return to normal, right? But it seems fate, and Lucien, disagree. I forgot I gave him the key to my apartment.

Lucien senses something is wrong when you don’t come out to greet him by the door. 

“My love? Are you alright?” he yells out. Hearing little besides your irregular breathing, he kicks his shoes off, speeding towards the living area. You’re sat on the white sofa, knees to your chest, shoulders heaving and thick tears streaming down your face. 

Lucien’s brows furrow in deep concern as he kneels down by your form. Even though he’s right in front of you, your eyes do not meet his. You’ve gone too deep in your own shell to even be able to acknowledge his presence. A tentative hand removes one of yours from its tight grasp on your other arm, and Lucien lets out a sigh of relief as he feels your hand clutch his. He takes it as a sign to lift you fully into his arms, and takes a seat on the sofa.

“Breathe. In,” he mimicks a deep inhale, “and out.” Lucien blows out, repeating the motion a couple more times. He rubs your back and your hands, constantly alternating between helping you breathe and gently uttering soothing phrases. 

“Easy, I’m here with you. Do you feel my heartbeat?” When your hands have finally relaxed out of their cramped up form, he presses one of them against his chest. The slow, rhythmic thumping grounds you. Lucien. A stiff nod from you makes a soft, wry smile appear on his face. “Good girl. You’re getting there, my dear. Just stay with me, here. You’re doing great.”

You don’t know how much longer you stay like that. All you know is that he stays with you through the entire attack. Hours later, you two are having a steaming cup of tea at the dinner table. 

“I’m sorry you had to see that. I didn’t want you to worry,” you mutter sheepishly.

“Don’t be ashamed of yourself,” Lucien’s violet eyes bore deep into yours, “Besides, how could I not worry when someone so dear is having a hard time?”

You shrug, a defeated look on your face. Your fingers fidget with the wood of the dinner table, until Lucien swiftly takes your hand in his again. 

He sighs. “Take tomorrow off. I’ll take care of you.” Even though his tone is soft, Lucien leaves no space for argument. You know you should agree. There’s no way you could function properly if you were to go to work tomorrow.

“...Thank you.”

Lucien brings your hand to his lips, leaving feather-light kisses on your knuckles. “No thanks needed. You can be greedier with me.”

Gavin

There’s perhaps no person in the world who enjoys rejection. Sure, there may be those who bounce back quickly, those who see rejection as a new opportunity. But rejection, failure in itself, doesn’t evoke positive feelings. 

As the producer of Miracle Finder, you’ve gotten used to rejection; it was hard to get the show back on track during the first year or so. Maybe you were arrogant, thinking it’d get better, or less painful, the more often you got rejected. 

Things did get better, and last week you were even offered a deal with Loveland TV for a second weekly show. The company had seen the success Miracle Finder had, and had offered you the chance to come up with something wholly original. Something...you. That night, a mere week ago, you took the girls out for dinner and drinks. You were on cloud nine that day. In hindsight, maybe it was karma. Maybe I jinxed it. Cheered too soon, and all that. 

This morning, you got a devastating e-mail that stated, in polite (but somehow still rude) terms, that your new show would not be broadcasted. The relaxed mood at the office rapidly turned somber once you mentioned the unfortunate decision. Your employees decided to give you some space afterwards. Not being able to stand the sadness, and feeling somewhat bad for them, you sent everyone, yes, including Anna, home early.

By three p.m., you’re the only one left at the office. You sit at your desk, head in your hands. I know it isn’t the end of the world...but right now, it almost feels like it is. With a deep sigh, you push yourself up, heading to the small kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea. Maybe you’ll have a biscuit too. Anything to cheer yourself up. 

Your mind automatically goes to Gavin, and without thinking it over too much, you dial his number. After a couple of rings, your call goes to voicemail. Stupid. He’s probably working. I’ll just leave a message.

“Hey babe, it’s me. I-uh, the thing I mentioned last week? The new show deal with Loveland TV? Yeah, that’s not happening,” your voice cracks halfway through the last sentence as you try to push down the disappointment that bleeds through, “I’m staying late today. Need some time to-to process things. I’ll be fine. Love you, hope you’re safe.” 

Time passes agonisingly slowly, so slowly you might as well think Victor’s behind it, while you dive into a mountain of work. It distracts you from today’s events. but the lingering sadness is still present in the back of your mind. 

Around eight, you start cleaning up your desk, shutting down your computer and gathering the papers. A knock on the window catches your attention as you’re about to head out. You turn around, noticing a tall figure on the balcony outside. Gavin! You hastily run back, opening the sliding door for Gavin to enter.

“Hi,” That’s the most awkward thing you could say. “I didn’t know you would come. Did you hear my message? You really didn’t have to...” you trail off when Gavin wordlessly opens his arms to you. His golden eyes look anywhere but you, and a slight blush is visible in the dark room, only illuminated by the bright lights outside. 

You gingerly step into his arms at first, clutching the back of his signature denim jacket tighter as time goes on. A couple of stray tears that you’re not able to hold back create wet splotches on his shirt. “I’m sorry,” you mumble, your voice muffled by the soft fabric.

“No biggie. Are you feeling alright?” he asks you. A non-committal shrug is all you respond with. “I know it was a big project for you.”

“Yeah, I don’t really know what to do now.” 

Gavin bends down a little, kissing the crown of your head. “You move on, and you don’t give up.”

You fall into comfortable silence. Gavin’s thumb rubs up and down your waist, soothing you. “...Have you ever been rejected?” you suddenly ask him.

Gavin chuckles. “Sure I have. I got rejected by my very first love.”

You raise your head to look up at him. Gavin sees his own reflection in your large, teary eyes, and smiles. “And what happened then?” you ask, your voice lightly tinged with jealousy. Who was his first love?

“Well, she’s in my arms now, isn’t she?” Even though he’s embarrassed to say the words, Gavin forces himself to look at you. At those eyes that shine with love for the world, for him. 

Bonus:

“Come on, I’ll take you home.” you pull out of the embrace to get your coat by the coat hanger, opening the door to head out again, like a normal person.

“How? You didn’t come here by bike, did you?”

Gavin’s already facing the window again, but he turns back with a smirk, holding his hand out to you. “I never said we were going by bike.”

“Gavin, no, babe, no, no, nonononononono—Aah!!” Your protests are cut short as Gavin swoops you into his arms bridal style and flies off. The wind rushes past your ears, almost making you miss Gavin’s gleeful laugh. “Gavin! I didn’t lock the doors!”

Kiro

On many occasions, you’re envious of Kiro’s Evol. But even without his Evol, Kiro is so bubbly and kind, you can’t help but like him. You sincerely wish you had that ability. And I know I’m supposed to make my own wishes come true, but I can only do so much to make people like me. I’m not going to bend over backwards and become a pushover just to be liked.

Still, it hurts when people are purposely mean to you. Especially during high school reunions. You were by no means a popular kid growing up...but you didn’t think that some people would still be stuck in a high school mentality. You held your own during the reunion, ignoring the backhanded compliments and blatantly condescending insults in favour of catching up with your old friends. Yet, all you can think of on the drive home are the negative comments.

“Oh, you still can’t drink alcohol? Seems like ‘someone’ hasn’t grown up yet!”

“You’re the producer of Miracle Finder? I hate that show, it’s so unrealistic.”

“Isn’t that a kids’ show?”

“My, you look adorable! My daughter also likes to wear those types of clothes, you know, to go play at the park.”

I can’t believe I missed game night with Kiro for this. With a terrible mood, you shuffle into the house. Kiro’s on the sofa playing A Chinese Ghost Story, a bag of chips on the coffee table in front of him. He turns to greet you with a smile, but it quickly falls after seeing your somber expression. 

“Welcome home Miss Ch—eh? What’s wrong?” Kiro takes his headphones off to stand up in front of you. His hands instinctively move to your waist to pull you close.

“How was the gathering?” he asks carefully. His eyes are big, just like a puppy’s. Had you felt better, you would’ve commented on his cute appearance. 

It’s as if that question flips a switch. “It was horrible!” you sniffle.

“Wha—Miss Chips!” Kiro grows panicked at your sniffles and sobs, and roughly pulls you to his chest. You retaliate by hugging him tightly, crying all your frustrations out on his shoulder.

Somehow, you move into a cuddling position on the living room sofa. You straddle his slender legs and his arms are wrapped around your torso, rubbing comforting circles on your back. Pulling away from his embrace, you start ranting about the terrible evening.

“...and I don’t even know why I’m this upset! It’s so frustrating. I’ve worked so hard to become who I am today, and the moment someone says something to me, I just break down. Maybe I am a child,” you look up at Kiro, eyes wide and brimming with tears, “Kiro, am I a child to you?”

Kiro chuckles. “Well, Miss Chips...sometimes you can be childish,” you jut your lip out in a pout, “b-but I’m childish too! And there’s nothing wrong with that. Some people want to grow up too fast, so they drink alcohol and dress up in dark colours and stiff fabrics to feel properly imprisoned in the ‘harsh adult world’. But most of us could be happier if we just...let our inner child out.”

He cups your cheek. “Never be ashamed of being childish, Miss Chips. It doesn’t make you a child,” a mischievous grin appears on Kiro’s youthful face, “Besides, I wouldn’t do this if I thought of you as a child!” 

With the hand on your cheek, Kiro draws your face closer to his. Your lips meet in a swift kiss that takes you by surprise. He swallows the startled gasp that escapes your mouth, retaliating by slowly swiping his tongue across your bottom lip. You can feel him smile into the kiss as you lean into it, closing your eyes. Your tears are long forgotten as you tangle your hands in Kiro’s blond locks. Slowly, you part your lips, allowing Kiro’s tongue to slip into your mouth. The teasing flicks of his tongue make you go weak, and he chuckles when your grip on his hair loosens. 

Kiro notices you’re growing light-headed, so he gives you time to regain your breath while he peppers little kisses on the corners of your mouth and on your swollen lips. You kissing demon. 

His satisfied hum is disrupted by a vicious punch to the chest. “Ah! Miss Chips, why would you hit me?” It’s Kiro’s time to pout now.

“Who told you to do that?! You’re so sly, it’s unfair!” you scold him, cheeks flushed a bright red.

“Yes, yes,” he pets your head, “but it helped, right? You’re not upset anymore, right?”

Your face scrunches up. “I guess not...I’m still mad at you for surprising me like that,” Kiro giggles, “But thanks.” His smile is contagious, and soon you’re both in a giggling fit.

When the giggles have subsided, Kiro pushes you back into his chest. As he snuggles into your shoulder, he whispers in your ear. “Don’t worry. Every time you feel sad, I’ll be there to cheer you up.”

I’m not saying dark clothes are bad! I have a black wardrobe myself...but we all need to remember that we don’t need to be so hard on ourselves sometimes. 

For some reason I’ve never properly depicted kissing like that in my writing. Ehhh, forgive me if it’s bad. Little note...do you guys know what Chinese drama ‘A Chinese Ghost Story’ is featured in?

[omgitsnutmeg]

A goat walks into a Bar

This is my Witcher Secret Santa gift for the @thewitchersecretsanta event, my fic is for @martianapplecrumble I hope you enjoy and Happy New Year! <3

A Goat Walks Into A Bar

           Lambert fumbled with his keys as he unlocked the back door to his brewery. It was far too early to open, but someone had to check on the latest batch of applejack and to look over the ledgers to ensure that the bar was ready to open that night. Slipping into the warm building he curses the fact that his truck doesn’t ever seem to get warm enough and that his business partner Aiden refuses to work mornings. Lambert started his morning off in the usual way, going over the previous nights inventory logs and checking up on the distillery that was attached to the bar. As he wandered to the front of the bar, there was a strange noise at the front door a scraping sound followed by a bump and more scraping.

           Opening the front door Lambert peered out into the empty parking lot and startled as a small goat brushed by him and wandered into the bar. Now, Lambert knows that one of the buildings down the road has a small pen out back with a few goats and chickens but a goat wandering into his bar like it owned the place was a very new and unexpected occurrence. Closing the door against the cool winter air Lambert scrambled to see where the little goat had run off to. A minute later he found the goat behind the oak counter of his bar, nibbling contently on a piece of celery that had fallen off the counter the night before. Now that he had found the goat Lambert had no idea what to do, he didn’t want it wandering through his lovely bar causing chaos and potentially trying to eat the furniture, but the goat also needed to be out of the way before people arrived for lunch.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

           Meanwhile Eskel was panicking. He runs a small but credible animal rehabilitation center and a new volunteer had left one of the goat pens unlocked the night before. Usually this wouldn’t be a problem, however the unlocked pen in question belonged to his little herd of pygmy goats which housed his favorite goat, Lil’bleater. The primary problem with that is Lil’bleater had made it her life goal to be a professional escape goat shortly after he adopted her. After assuring himself that she was the only goat who had decided to escape the warm, dry pen, Eskel finished feeding the little goats and locked the pen. Now he was faced with actually finding the sweet terrible little goat who was usually out trying to steal the chicken’s food. Finding the chicken coop empty of goats and no sign of the little goat anywhere else on the property he had to consider the fact that Lil’bleater may have wandered off further than he first thought. Eskel’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the rescue’s phone ringing inside the building. He skidded through the door and grabbed the phone just in time to pick it up and greet the caller, “Kaer Morhen animal rescue this is Eskel speaking, how can I help you?” The reply was quick to come

“Hi, this is your neighbor, Lambert at Tequila Mockingbird. I opened to front door this morning to find a little white and brown goat who wandered into my bar. Would you happen to know whose goat it is?”

Eskels heart soared in relief as the worry for his favorite goat evaporated. “Oh, thank the goddesses! That’s Lil’bleater, one of our newer rescue goats she escaped sometime last night, and I’ve been looking for her all morning! I’ll be over to pick her up in just a few minutes if that’s okay with you, I’m so glad she’s alright! She has a tendency to escape and she seems to have gotten bolder in where she wanders”.

“ Thank goodness she’s yours, I have to open the bar by 11:30 for lunch and I don’t think I could run a bar and babysit your goat at the same time, I also know nothing about goats so the sooner you can pick her up the better”.

“I’d definatly be hard to run a bar and manage goats, I’ll be over as soon as possible to pick up Lil’Bleater, just try to keep an eye on her till I get there”.

“Okidoik, but if she eats any of the furniture in here someone other than me has to pay for it”.

           With that the phone line clicked off and Eskel was hopping into his beat-up truck about four seconds later. He was usually nervous when meeting new people because they tend to judge him based on his scars and his strong build. He’s tall and bulky in the way that lots of heavy farm work makes people and that make some people nervous around him. Today however he didn’t have time to feel nervous around the absolute relief that his little escape goat would soon be home safe. The drive to the bar felt like it took forever even though it was barley five minutes down the road. As Eskel pulled into the parking lot he couldn’t help but wonder which of the bar’s owners Lambert was, he had seen both of them at one point or another as they set up the bar a few months previously but he had never actually had the time to introduced himself to them. Eskel steeled himself as he knocked on the door, anxiously waiting for Lambert to open the door.

<><><><><><><><><><><> 

           Meanwhile Lambert was attempting to take inventory of the bar and keep a determined little goat out of the fridge at the same time. The adorable little goat was trying to eat everything that it could see which makes counting beer cans and the other odds and ends in the bar much more difficult than it should be. Ten minutes later a blessed knock comes  from the front door and Lambert rushes to the door to greet his savior.

           The door to the quaint little brewery is thrown open, and Eskel is suddenly face to face with a very handsome and slightly flustered man. Lambert is a full head shorter than he is but seems to have a solid build. There was a long quiet pause as both men looked each other over before Lambert finally broke the silence.

           “You’re Eskel Right”?

           “Yeah, on the phone you said that you had found Lil’Bleater”?

           “I think she found me, she wandered right in the door this morning and I’m glad that you were available to come get her. Follow me”.

           With that Lambert had turned around and disappeared into the bar. Eskel hurried to keep up with him and found himself examining the dark but stylish bar. The bar itself was only half lit as it wasn’t open yet but seemed like a welcoming space. Lambert strutted behind the bar and Eskel peaked behind the bar to see his little rascal of a goat happily sitting there. Eskel also noticed how attractive the bar owner was. A head shorter than himself and showing off just muscled enough arms to prove that owning a bar had some heavy labor involved, Lambert was Eskel’s type through and through. He had to shake his head to clear those kinds of thoughts and he hurried to Lambert’s side to clip a harness and a leash onto Lil’Bleater.

           “Thanks so much for looking after Lil’Bleater for me! I’ll try to make sure she doesn’t escape again and I’m terribly sorry for bothering you this morning” Eskel spewed in a quick fountain of words.

           “It’s no problem”  Lambert muttered, “In fact since she’s out of here before lunch she didn’t even really interrupt my morning, she actually made it better. It’s much more interesting to meet you than it is to open the bar”. The two wandered back too the front door of the bar, Eskel watching Lil’Bleater closely to ensure that she doesn’t try to escape her harness. At the door, there is a second of awkward hesitation as they both look at each other. As Eskel reaches for the door handle, Lambert thrusts a business card out towards him.

           “If your interested you should call me… I’d like to get to know you better. Of course its no pressure if you aren’t interested, but please think about it” Eskel slowly takes the card and grins.

           “Yeah! I’ll definitely call you; we could get coffee sometime next week or something like that”.

           “That sounds great, you have a safe day and look after your little runaway! I look forwards to seeing you soon” Lambert beamed and watched as Eskel corralled his little goat into his truck and trundled off towards his home.

<><><><><><><><><><><> 

           The two met up for coffee the next week, then to watch lacrosse at Lamberts bar then for dinner and movie dates galore. Before they knew it the two were introducing each other to their families, explaining the ridiculous coincidence of a goat deciding to walk into a bar.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28498374

[wallwriterstuff]

They Want Us To Burn || Alec Volturi ||

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence, mild horror, mentions of blood and death. 

Words: 6263 

Summary: So this turned out to be a little longer than expected but I found once I started writing I couldn’t stop so...

From Alec’s point of view, this is what happened the day the Witch Twins burned. 

He took a deep breath, pressed a palm into the soft dirt beneath his knees, closed his eyes, and thrust his head under the surface of the water. The springtime meant warmer weather, but the rivers were still filled with water left over from the winter snow melt. The perfect place to bathe after a frankly awful day. He’d tended to the allotment in the early morning, his back to the sun as it rose since he had no time to admire the beauty of spring if he wanted to plant enough crop to harvest over the summer and autumn months. The late morning to early afternoon gave him time to hunt and check the snares he’d set in the woodland surrounding their home, and after a quick lunch that Mother had prepared, he was off to the fields to earn a pittance for his labour that would help pay the taxes due to the maddeningly fat bastard of a Lord who owned the land their small village was settled on.

The fields were not a nice place to be for Alec, but he’d been turned away from every other job he’d tried to get to earn some coin. He wanted to provide for his family the way he saw other men doing, and as the only man in his household it was his duty to do so, but he could only earn so much if he acquired no skill. His father was not someone Mother spoke about often but he knew he was a foreign born soldier. Whether he was dead or alive, Alec couldn’t bring himself to care. He didn’t want to be anything like a man who had abandoned his family without a second thought, but he could admit that perhaps their lives would be far easier if the man had stayed and taught him some sort of craft. The butcher’s son was already working at their store as was the cobbler’s boy, and the blacksmith’s son? Well, he was being apprenticed to a man in London of all places, sure to make quite a fortune.

His free hand ruffled and ran through his hair, once, twice, three times over, and then he resurfaced with a quiet gasp. Alec liked to swim when he could. There was a lake deep in the forest, perhaps more of a pond, but it was crystal clear and large enough for him to get a few laps in. He’d learnt by accident. One of the few friends he’d had before they had been driven away had pushed him into the river while they playful fought one day, and jumped in to save him when he realised he couldn’t swim. Underneath the water everything was silent. There was nothing and everything all at once, and obscured kingdom of quiet he liked to visit when the real world got to loud. Most of the time now he was too busy working to provide for his Mother and sister to visit his pond anymore. 

Wiping his wet hand over his face and across the back of his neck, Alec blinked the water from his eyes and refocused his eyes on the surrounding greenery, letting sound drift back to him as birds twittered and sung their sweet songs in his ear. Fledglings would be preparing to fly the nest soon enough and Jane would want him to come with her through the forest to help any who had fallen back into their nests again he was sure.

Alec shivered, feeling the water dribble down his spine as he ran his hand over his torso, under his pits. He was awfully sticky after working in the sun all day to till the land, ready to plant the potato crop that would sell at market and go to the Lord’s household. He had never seen the nobles house up close, but he’d heard the rumours from servants who came to market to restock the kitchens. The place was supposed to have high ceilings, long tables feasts that could feed the entire village could be held at and multiple rooms.

 Once he deemed himself clean enough, he sat back in the grass, resting his forearms on his knees and letting the sun dry the water droplets still clinging to his hair and skin, the damp strands now sticking down around his face. His hair had grown considerably and was just starting to creep past his shoulders now. He’d have to cut it again soon to keep it out of his eyes when he was working. The pay wasn’t great and nor was the company, but it provided enough for him to pay taxes mixed in with the income from the milk and cheese they sold from the goats.

The men he worked with varied in age, but Alec was by far one of the youngest. He was in his fourteenth summer now and notably smaller than those he worked with, yet still they gave him a wide berth as though he were the biggest and roughest of the lot. Jane was treated the same when she went to market to sell the cheese she worked so hard to make. Nobody dared come near the witch twins. The very name repulsed him, made bile rise in the back of his throat and his face scrunch in disgust, but there was no way they could rid themselves of the moniker now. Alec grabbed a fistful of grass, tearing it from the dirt and scrunching it in his hand with a huff. 

There’d been more name calling today, more taunts and jabs from the villagers trying to get a rise out of him. He wasn’t Jane. His sister rose to the bait almost every time, years of torment turning her bitter and hot-headed when they were forced to go into the village square now. Jane enjoyed snapping back, her words equally as barbed and making some of the toughest men recoil in shock at how wicked her words could be.

Alec didn’t like to give them the time of day, but that didn’t mean their words simply bounced off of him. Sometimes, like today, when he was already hot and bothered and just wanted to feed his family, their words lingered longer they should.

Not using your devil powers little witch boy?

Maybe he can’t without that freak of a sister near him. Ha! Imagine! All that power and he’s impotent unless there’s a little girl telling him what to do!

Better not rile the witch up, he’ll make your crop fail you know.

How do we know you aren’t tampering with this harvest devil spawn?

He tossed the scrunched up grass into the river, watching the babbling stream carry it away from him. Sometimes he wished he could do that. He wished he could just drift downstream and find someplace new, someplace nobody knew him or his reputation so he could start a fresh. Alec couldn’t honestly say he fully blamed the villagers for being suspicious of him or Jane (things did have a tendency to happen around them after all) but they never meant any harm. In fact, if anything bad happened it was because bad things had been done to them first and foremost. Still, it did scare him just how bold the villagers were becoming, and how out of control it all seemed to be. Just the other day the farmers youngest, no older than six, had hurled insult after insult at him, and Alec really had no idea how it had happened but he was certain it was an accident when the boy had turned and trod on that hoe. He hadn’t physically put it there, but…well it definitely hadn’t been there before either.

It had always been chalked up to coincidence by Mother – it was her favourite word nowadays. When the boys who had cornered Jane at market had complained they couldn’t breathe Mother had reminded them the day was hot, and the air thick. When the girl who had given Alec hope that perhaps he might have won her favour humiliated him in front of her friends, Mother had said it was a coincidence that she awoke the next day with horrendous boils on her face, sore and bursting and leaving ugly scars behind. Alec could safely say he never decided to do any of those things, but he had felt…different, when they happened. He could remember being angry, being scared, and feeling his fingertips tingle, his mind strangely warm, and then it was all over and something good had happened to those who had been good to him, while misfortune followed all those who had done him or his family wrong.

“Alec! Alec!” Jane’s voice was frantic, breaking him from his thoughts so suddenly it was jarring. He blinked owlishly, head swivelling to the right as he tried to gather his bearings. Jane was running towards him, the beautiful braid Mother had spent so long doing for her this morning now flying everywhere and her dress was tattered, stained with mud. The closer she got, the more he realised her head was soaking wet, her lip split and chin stained pink, like she’d had to wash blood off of her face. He shot to his feet, grabbing at his shirt and throwing it on haphazardly.

“Jane what happened to you!” he demanded, shock and anger fighting a violent war inside of him. His wide eyes took in every battered inch of his sister, his fingers curling into her upper arms as he hauled her into him. Jane never cried, so why were her eyes so wet? She shook, holding tightly to him as he tenderly stroked her hair. It was soaking, sopping wet compared to the rest of her. Her dress was hanging off of one shoulder now. Clearly whatever had happened had been violent, and the thought anyone might have harmed his sister drove him to near madness.

“Th-th village b-boys, they tried to – they were – they tried to-“ she stuttered, gulping for air and unable to get the words out. Alec tried to be patient, cupping her face in his hands and pressing fleeting kisses to her cheeks and forehead.

“Shhh sister, hush now, you’re safe.” He promised, brushing some wet strands of hair from her face. Jane sniffled, closing her eyes as she took some deep breaths, her slender fingers wrapped around his wrists. Given the way she’d run to him he didn’t think she was too badly hurt. There were no bruises on her skin he could see, just her split lip that looked to be quite sore.

“They tried to make me confess to witchcraft.” Jane whispered, sky blue eyes peering up at him and swimming with anxiety. She smelt something awful, like urine and barn animals.

“Make you confess?” Alec repeated, his tone growing darker as his eyes narrowed. Jane nodded, sniffling again and swiping her hands nervously down her dress. Jane was unflappable. She had a comeback for every occasion, a tongue sharper than any sword and a temper that was all consuming and violent as fire. It didn’t suit her to seem so afraid and meek before him now.

“The son of Godwin cornered me at market with his friends, and they dragged me to that boy Edgar’s house, you know the place that owns all the sheep? They kept – kept dunking my head under water in the sheep’s trough.” She told him, her voice starting to shake as her eyes went big, “I swear to you Alec I don’t know what happened. I don’t know how it happened. I don’t know how the Smith’s boy began to choke.” Jane began to cry again, looking alarmed and pale as she fell into his chest. Alec wrapped her tightly in his arms, somewhat frozen in shock himself. It wasn’t the first time those around Jane had suddenly found it difficult to breathe, but someone choking was far more sinister. He doubted it would be forgiven or explained away as easily as their other coincidences had been.

“Jane we must go.” Alec said firmly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and marching with her back through the grass towards the dirt path that led to home. His mind raced, his concern growing as Jane didn’t bother to argue with him as she usually would. He took a sharp inhale as his sister stumbled beside him, falling to her knees and trembling head to foot.

“I killed him Alec. I think I killed Harold the Smith.” She whimpered, eyes shining with tears. He stilled, a shiver running down his spine. Dead? She had killed the blacksmith’s boy? He was due to go to London! He was his family’s pride and joy! This would not be taken lightly.

“Sister…how did you escape?” Alec asked quietly. Had the other boys just let her go once they had seen what she’d done to her friend? How many had witnessed the Smith boy’s demise? Was it gruesome? Alec found a morbid fascination with that last question, part of him hoping it was for all the torment they’d endured at his hands but knowing that the very desire to so much as hit him was a sin in itself. To wish a gruesome death upon someone…maybe he was the devil’s boy after all?

“They all just fell.” Jane whispered back, staring up at him from the floor.

“Fell?” he questioned. She nodded slowly, wiping furiously at her eyes before shooting to her feet. Suddenly, Jane was tugging him by the hand, the skirt of her dress kicking up clouds of dirt as he hurried to fall into step beside her. “Jane what do you mean they fell?” he repeated his question, voice slightly more panicked now.

“I don’t know brother! They began to bleed and then they fell! I don’t know what happened, but I didn’t mean to do it, you have to believe me!” she insisted. Alec nodded placatingly.

“Of course I believe you sister, but what you’ve done is…the village will not forget this.” He fretted, mind quickly turning to Mother. She would be waiting for them to return home, perhaps cooking supper as they hurried along. They had to get home fast, pack what meagre belongings they owned and flee. If Jane had truly killed the boy…the penalty for murder was death by hanging. Depending on the state that she had left the other boys in after her “trial” they might just torture her all over again before giving her the rope.

“Brother do you…hear that?” she asked, stopping suddenly. Alec paused, straining his ears until he caught it. It was a cacophony of loud, clambering voices, muffled by distance but slowly growing clearer. It was like listening to the raucous shouts of the villagers when they gathered to celebrate the Shrove Tuesday feast, but as the words of their chant became discernible Alec felt his blood run cold.

“Burn the witches!”

“Alec…”

“Run.” He whispered, staring with wide eyes at his sister. Jane’s jaw clenched shut, her eyes shining with tears. “Run Jane! Run now!” he bellowed, tugging on her hand to force her to keep pace with him.

Find Mother and get into the forest.

Find Mother and get into the forest.

He repeated the instruction to himself like a mantra. Protecting his family was all that mattered now. Their fate was certain, their place in the village now painfully clear. They were nothing more than scapegoats for all the rotten luck that befell others. Jane panted beside him as he focused his eyes on their house, forcing his legs to move faster. He didn’t dare look back, barreling in through the door and shocking Mother so badly she screamed, dropping the ladle into the pot she was busy cooking supper in.

“Alec what on earth-“

“Mother we must leave, the villagers have come for us!” he snapped, pivoting on his heel to reach for his bow. He wasn’t the best shot, but he would have to make do. His family needed him to rise to the occasion, to be the man of the house, to protect them.  

“But Alec why would they-“

“Mother there is not time! We must flee to the forest now! We can survive out there, I know we can, please!” he implored. Mother was too shocked to move for a long moment until she heard the shouting, Jane’s shrill cry to warn them of their impending visitors startling her into grabbing the skirt of her dress and hurrying towards the door.

“Hurry, hurry! Jane, come quickly!” she held out an arm and Jane immediately took her hand, Mother ushering her on ahead of them as Alec darted out of the door, nocking an arrow as he went and drawing back the bowstring. He let the arrow fly towards the crowd, a few angry shouts and screams as it landed near their feet ripping through the air. Alec could see the shining ends of pitchforks, the sharp curves of axes, the butcher holding his butchers knife up so the metal glinted dangerously in the sunlight. How could such a cloudless, bright day herald such a terrible fate for them?

Turning swiftly, he pelted towards the treeline, seeing his mother and Jane close to reaching the first few trees up ahead. His hand gripped his bow tight, heart racing as the blood in his body began to roar in his ears. Was this really it? What if they couldn’t get away? No, no he couldn’t think like that. He brushed quickly past his family, holding back the branches in their way and letting them fall back into place beside them. He moved much faster over the familiar hunting terrain, dismayed by just how slow his sister and Mother seemed to move. Tree roots tried to trip them, the patchy canopy sending beams of light to guide their way and leaving the forest unbearably humid. It hadn’t always been this warm had it? He could feel himself sweating again.

“Dammit!” Jane cried in frustration, yanking the skirt of her dress off of the sharp twig it had been snagged on, ripping the material. Mother crashed to the ground, hissing at the sting the impact left on her skin. Jane helped her back up as Alec reached back for another arrow. The villagers sounded close again, closer than he wanted them to be.

“We have to move faster, there’s a blind not far from here where we can hide till they pass.” He said, voice quiet but strained. Jane nodded determinedly, but Mother merely pushed her forward.

“Go there then.” She said, her eyes watering. Alec felt his own eyes widen. His chest refusing to take in air for a moment.

“No.” he whispered as Jane hurried to his side, gripping his arm tightly.

“I am only slowing you down.” Mother insisted, her hands bunching her dress into fists. She approached quickly, jerking like a puppet whose strings had been pulled tight. He couldn’t respond to her hug, her body warm against his and heart beating all too hard against his chest, body frozen. She cupped his cheeks and kissed the top of his head, a shaky smile crossing her lips before she repeated the motion to Jane.

“Mother no.” Jane begged, “Please come with us please!”

“We can make it Mother.” Alec said determinedly. He wouldn’t leave her behind. A real man would save all of his family, wouldn’t they? How could he leave the woman who had given him life? The woman who Jane looked so much like, with her golden hair and soft features. He shared her blue eyes. He still whispered her stories to Jane on nights nightmares kept her awake. He needed her still. He needed her always. Mother twisted her head sharply, the villagers sounding far too close as branches snapped under foot and animals scattered into the depths of the woods to avoid their wrath.

“No, we cannot, but you can. Go now my loves, look after one another. I love you always.” Her words broke on a soft sob and before either of them could react she darted back and to the right, moving diagonally away from them and beginning to bundle rocks in her arm. Jane tugged at his hand, but Alec could only watch as Mother, her blue eyes frantic when she realised they still hadn’t moved and she screamed for them to go once more. Her arm reared back, and a stone pelted the first villager through the break in the trees square in the chest. Coughing and spluttering, the cobbler clutched his chest and doubled over, heaving for air. Alec nocked his arrow and drew back the string, letting it loose without a second thought as his lips twisted into a snarl.

He didn’t recognise the man who went down, the arrow embedded into his shoulder. A swarm of people were advancing now as Jane shrieked at him to move, but Alec barely heard her. He could feel it again, that warmth in his mind, the way his fingertips tingled. His arm wheeled back and forth, nocking arrows and letting them fly. He wasn’t even aware of the obscenities he was screaming now at the villagers who were lunging for them, his ears buzzing as the adrenaline pounded through him at an alarming rate. His eyes were laser focused; tunnel vision pinpointed on Mother as she was shoved to the ground, landing hard on her elbows before she was pushed onto her back. The world seemed to move in slow motion after that, his throat feeling raw as he screamed and screamed, feeling the wind pick up around him as the stones Mother had once held as her only defence now rained down on her prone body.

Jane went down next having propelled herself forward to try and save Mother. She was tackled and pinned by the arms by two burly men that in the back of his mind, Alec recognised as some of the farm hands he worked with. He reached his arm back, furious now as they struck his twin across the face so hard the wound on her lip reopened, spilling bright red blood and making her eyes flutter. He grasped thin air, his blood running cold as he realised he was out of arrows. They were sticking out of various limbs, but it wasn’t enough to stop the mob coming for him, and he swung his bow up and around in a wide arc to catch the first attacker in the face. He was barely seeing faces anymore, each villager a blur as they rushed him. He was forced to the ground on his front, face smashed into the dirt once, twice. There was a sharp sting that ran through his nose, followed by a deep, fiery throb, something hot and wet running down into his mouth and making him choke and splutter.

“Jane!” he croaked her name desperately, vision blurring at the edges and staring to fade rapidly as an explosion of pain ricocheted through his ribs, his legs. He had failed. He hadn’t saved anyone. Mother was dead, Jane was…alive? Slung across the shoulder of the man before him, her hands bound and body limp, his sister’s chest rose and fell as she was carried like a sack of potatoes away from him. Alec couldn’t find his feet, feeling them drag over the sticks and stones littering the forest floor, his shoes sliding through something slick and wet. His blurry eyes could barely make out the discoloured, red splotch that was all that was left of Mother as he was dragged past her, two hands gripping his biceps too tightly and cutting off the blood flow in his arms as he was hauled along. Knowing he had failed made it a lot easier to accept the darkness creeping in on him.

He could almost pretend everything was normal when his eyes opened again. Jane was shouting profanities and curses at the top of her lungs, iron rattling as she shook her shackles and slammed the chain into the bars holding her in a cell. Every part of his body hurt. From head to toe Alec felt a deep-rooted ache, his very bones throbbing in protest of his every breath. The skin around his mouth felt tight, dried, congealed blood covering his skin. He closed his eyes with a wince as the image of his bloodied and beaten mother came to mind. She wasn’t Mother, not like that. She’d looked like one of those slabs of meat strung up outside of the butchers, battered and red with blood. He’d failed. Mother would never again sing as she cooked, which he had always claimed annoyed him but never confessed that they were songs he hummed to himself to pass time in the fields. She’d never patch up his clothes again, citing her favourite sewing rules to an unimpressed Jane, who simply didn’t have the patience for activities such as sewing. Never again would she sit with him when he couldn’t sleep, stroking his hair and reminding him of just how wrong they were, that her twins were her most precious gift and could never be a curse.

Alec felt the grief so acutely it stung in his chest like an open wound, a sharp, red hot knife plunged into his chest again and again and again. Jane’s shrill screaming was ringing in his ears, rattling around his brain, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak. He couldn’t bring himself to do anything other than lie there, in too much pain to move. Internally though, he egged her on.

Curse them all, sister. Summon whatever power the devil has bestowed us with and bring nothing but chaos to this wretched place.

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed sprawled on the floor, but the stone was uncomfortable and began to turn his limbs numb. Alec found himself grateful for it, the pins and needles making his pain worse only briefly before his sprawled figure was simply numb to every physical sensation, and it was marvellous. A quiet sigh of relief escaped him and he closed his eyes, willing his mind to do the same as his body, to shut down and let everything go. He could hear the hustle and bustle outside, an animated kind of buzzing. A strange kind of anticipation filled the air and he knew what it was for, though he couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge it. Everyone knew what happened to witches, and he had maimed many villagers with his arrows to only add fuel to the fire. Their ending would not be pleasant, their parting from this world all too soon and all too painful. He prayed the numbness in his body would last.

“Alec?” Jane’s voice was hoarse, her screaming having worn down her throat. He stared at the stone ahead of him, heart aching in his chest as his eyes burned with tears. She sounded so afraid, so uncertain and saddened. The cells stank of human waste, of old blood, the straw on the floor long since mangled and discoloured by various stains he didn’t want to think about. He managed to take block out the foul smell so it no longer made him nauseous at least. It wasn’t until Jane called his name again that he found the will to respond.

“Forgive me sister.” He murmured.

“Alec.”

“I have failed you. I failed Mother. I cannot save you.” His voice was oddly thick, the air unable to escape his crooked nose and making some syllables come out a little garbled, but Jane understood him nonetheless. She always had. Without a word, she curled herself onto her side and reached her hand through the bars of her cell, stretching her hand as far as it would go across the floor towards him. Alec swallowed, shakily reaching for her. There was no pain, his body far too numb to it now, he couldn’t even feel her skin against his, but he held fast and tight to her hand like it was a lifeline, his only anchor in a world that suddenly didn’t make sense anymore. Why them? Why did they have to suffer? Why couldn’t people have just been nice to them? They remained silent, the dark aura that emanated from Jane only growing worse as time wore on and the sun began to dip in the sky. It was like watching a storm cloud grow more violent, lightning crackling around and waiting to strike.

Alec on the other hand finally got his wish. Everything stopped. The grief that was held heavy in his heart disappeared, but so did everything else. They were building his pyre, time was marching towards his death but…it didn’t matter. None of it mattered. He had been a good son, a good brother, given time he might have even been a good man, but fate had decided for him and who was he to argue with such powerful forces? When the door slammed open Jane’s grip on his hand tightened, but Alec could only stare blankly at the alderman pointing a gnarled finger at the pair of them. The farm hands he worked among came striding for his cell.

“Get up witch boy, meet your reckoning.” He knew Alfred well, had thought they were perhaps friends. Huh, what an odd situation, to be put to death by a boy you had worked with. He didn’t move, merely stared unblinkingly back at them until they forcibly dragged him to his feet. No pain, nothing. His brain had shut it off by now, and everything else had shut off to as he stumbled out between them, Jane thrashing and snapping at her own escorts behind him. He squinted against the bright light of the torches held aloft by so many of those who had shunned them. He did not feel fear or dread, when he saw the stake driven into the ground, a platform of wood surrounded by logs and branches from the very forest they’d tried to escape into. Perhaps the rope was rough, perhaps it wasn’t. He tested its strength, tugging lightly so the rope was forced to strain a bit against the wooden pole forcing him to stand straight. It didn’t give an inch.

Jane was forced to submit, Alec watching as they drove a fist into his sister’s gut to incapacitate her long enough to tie her down. She struggled viciously, her eyes murderous and flashing over each and every villager before them with her teeth bared. Alec traced the bruised and bloodied visage of his sister one last time, committing the image to memory before turning to face the crowd. Whole families had gathered, some looking excited while others looked morbidly fascinated, like they wanted to be somewhere else but couldn’t bring themselves to ignore the spectacle.

“Alec, Alec look at me.” Jane snapped. He turned his head, dead eyes finding hers for the last time. He had failed her.

“I love you, Jane.” He said, and even though his voice was devoid of emotion he knew she understood just how much weight the words carried.

“There is nothing to forgive Alec, I love you to.” She promised.

“The witch twins have plagued us for long enough! Sickness has befallen our children, our crops have failed, diseases have riddled our livestock, and now they have taken the lives of five young men!” the alderman cried. So Jane had taken down five of those boys had she? Good. The crowd was screaming, the families of the boys shouting curses and thrusting their torches high. Alec knew he should be afraid, but what he could now to stop this? Perhaps the afterlife would be kinder to them? Surely God would know they had never intentionally caused harm to another living being?

“Burn the witches!”

“Purge this village of the devil children once and for all!”

The alderman nodded placatingly, his hand rising and falling in a calming motion to settle the eager crowd. Beady green eyes met Alec’s very briefly, and Alec stared back, unblinking, unflinching.  

“For their crimes against our village, the crime of witchcraft, we sentence these two devils to burn at the stake! May God free their souls from the wretched evil that consumes them!” he spat, tossing his torch down onto the branches at Jane’s feet. She let out a blood curdling scream and Alec felt the first flicker of something ignite in him as more torches followed. It rained fire for a few short seconds, and then the acrid smell of smoke was filling his nose, choking his lungs. There it was, fear, anger, despair, disgust. It roiled in his gut like an angry serpent.

“You’ll all burn in hell! Each and every one of you will burn in hell for this!” Jane screeched, struggling viciously as the flames began to lick upwards. The dry kindling caught quickly, bringing his death closer and closer as Alec began to squirm, gritting his teeth. It was growing uncomfortably warm, his eyes burning and lungs spasming as he tried to breathe around the thick, foul smelling smoke invading his airways. He coughed, eyes narrowing on the flames nearing his feet. Jane’s screaming changed in pitch and tone, the anger and malice her voice had once conveyed replaced instead by agony and terror. His head snapped to the right, seeing the leather of her shoes melting into the wood as the flames reddened and charred her ankles, bright orange fire steadily crawling up her dress. His eyes watered, his own feet now hot, burning hotter and hotter as the flames grew higher. They licked at his skin like a thousand angry bee stings. Alec could feel his flesh bubbling and melting slowly as the fire penetrated layer after layer of skin until his very bones felt like they were starting to curdle in the heat.

He couldn’t contain his voice anymore, a strangled scream escaping his lips as he tossed his head back against the wood, trying to move his feet away from the flames encroaching on his skin. He had never felt pain like it and he silently begged for it to end, for something to douse the flames and cool him down. He felt sick, his mind growing fuzzy from lack of air, though he was painfully and shamefully aware of the way his bladder voided once the fire reached his thighs. The torment seemed eternal, stretching on and on as his flesh peeled away, his fuddled mind conjuring images of Mother peeling potatoes to go into their dinner, teaching him to do the same. He would do anything for her to wake him now from this nightmare. The flames leapt suddenly with a gust of wind, pushing through his shirt and onto his chest, but he couldn’t even scream anymore, not enough air in his lungs. His body sagged against the wooden pole, his brain struggling to process the sensations anymore as he finally, mercifully, went numb to it all once more. Vaguely he understood that this was the end, that he was close to passing from this world to the next.

Black shapes flitted in and out of his vision, dancing across his eyes. His ears were ringing with the screams of the villagers, and a deranged, choked laugh escaped his battered lips. Demons, it had to be demons. Maybe they were the devil’s children after all and he had sent a welcome committee to escort them all to hell? He prayed for it in that moment, as muddled as his thoughts were he thought of the demons and how their claws might rip into those who had done this to them, thanked his father for the blissful numbness that had overcome him now and stopped him feeling pain. The demons hovered over him now, pale as the moon and shrouded in darkness, vividly red eyes beaming down at him. His eyes fluttered shut, waiting for the inevitable. He had expected it to perhaps be quick, a slash of the creature’s claws through his throat maybe. It certainly started in his throat, liquid fire pouring into him and forcing his blurry eyes back open in shock. He couldn’t move, couldn’t scream, but his eyes wheeled desperately to find someone, anyone who could stop this.

The fire built and built, and then it overflowed, pouring through his veins and spilling down into his chest, encasing his heart and flooding down to the tips of his toes until his whole body was encased in a burning more vicious than anything he’d endured up until that point. His voice was too broken to make a sound, but his mind suddenly seemed to fire up, working faster and more efficiently than ever before to try and process the agony he was in. As his vision faded again, he felt his body tremble. He was trapped inside of his mind, unable to open his eyes anymore and encased in a shell of burning flesh, being torn apart and remade from the inside. He wasn’t sure of anything anymore. Was this hell? Was this what the rest of eternity would be like? Where was Jane? Had death been kinder to her? He hoped it had. Whoever had done this to him, whatever awaited him at the end of this ordeal, he used his last coherent thought to make a solemn vow.

The world is going to pay for what it did to us sister, and our enemies will know no mercy from my wrath.

[bansept]

Let’s dance

/NSFW WORK/

While it’s not the absolute worse, nor the absolute best I could come up with, it’s a pretty nice start of the maybe long series of NSFW scrabbles for my dear Ichihime fandom!

To anyone who was a bit thirsty, I give you this fresh refreshment that I hope isn’t that bad!

DANCER ORIHIME X STUDENT ICHIGO

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Blurry windows and foggy mirror, heavy breaths and skin burning.

The light was shining on them, their sweaty bodies moving in rhythm with the music, the gentle voice of the instructor ordering them around, making each movement matter.

Now, if anyone had told Ichigo he would be taking dancing lessons, staring at his reflection in half anger, half concentration and listening to young teenage girls giggle behind him, he would have slapped them. Not because dancing was shameful, because frankly, it definitely was not. Well, except for some dances, like the macarena or shit like that. No actually, Ichigo would not have believed himself for agreeing to come to dancing lessons to stare at the instructor.

As in, gawk at her.

.

.

.

Ichigo Kurosaki’s week had started as normally as any other week : waking up early, drinking liters of coffee, going to work on some english literature thesis, eating with some friends and coming back home to work until way too late at night, and starting over again.

Yes, he had been told several times by everyone he knew that coffee was bad when it was too much, yes, he had been told to work better on his thesis if he wanted to study and teach Shakespeare. Easier said than done, and that was why his friends had kept rumbling about either taking a break, thank you Chad, or stoping any distractions and really work, fuck you Uryu.

He was sitting across them, stirring his lunch leftovers slowly while the tall half Japanese half Mexican giant was pushing his hair out of his eyes, looking around them as Uryu was probably talking to him. Ichigo tended to not care much.

“So you better get back on track before your old man decides to stop…”

“He’s not lending me money anymore. I work now, you know?”

Uryu threw Ichigo a quite unimpressed look, closing his mouth only to push his glasses up his straight nose. Chad was holding back a tiny smile, but Ichigo of course saw it.

“Giving lessons to kids and working part time in a dojo isn’t really enough to pay for important studies. Or keep you floating like now for the rest of your little life.”

Ichigo gritted his teeth together, a hand digging in his pocket to hold onto his phone, anything hard to stop him from throwing hands with his friend. He really wondered how or why he even talked with the blue-eyed man in front of him.

“Excuse me?” A voice came from the side, clear and ringing in his ear loud enough for Ichigo to turn his head around. Any distraction was good enough to momentarily wipe Uryu from his mind.

Ichigo felt his grip on his phone loosen, just like his jaw.

The angelic voice that had called them was probably the most angelic form of life on Earth, putting to shame anything renowned painters and, god forbid, even Shakespeare, had ever described. With long, fluffy and so exquisitely soft looking auburn hair, bright grey eyes surrounded by a round face, with subtile eyebrows, a cute little nose and, fuck, pillowy lips…

The young and oh so magnificent woman was slightly leaning towards them, an inviting smile on her face while her slender hand was handing over rosy flyers.

“I’m sorry to bother you, gentlemen, but we are offering free dancing lessons to promote the opening of our new dance studio.” A sweet smile and Ichigo felt his eyes widen further. “Would you be interested?”

With the push of his friends, and because he was perfectly unable to say no to such a goddess, Ichigo was the only one to accept, the other two finding some kind of weird excuse. But really, the young man was perfectly fine in agreeing to go alone there.

.

.

.

What a fantastic recruit they had chosen for the job, he marvelled, walking down the sunny streets with his backpack, staring at the flyer that the gorgeous woman had given him. He wondered if she would be here, in this class, jumping around in sportswear and doing whatever dance lessons did. Ichigo snickered when he realized he’d be one of the idiots doing those idiocities too.

After a good 15 minute-walk, the orange-haired man stood right at the front of a brand new building, the white walls making the golden-ish design of the sign shining in the sunlight. Windows with closed curtains made him raise an eyebrow, but he still entered the dimly lit building, the office desk standing elegantly, but alone.

“Hello?” He asked, voice calling out in the empty space.

God, he hoped he had not arrived too late. Or worse, too early. Ichigo hated to appear eager, even if his brain reminded him that, actually, he was.

A few quick steps rushed on the clean floor, the young woman appearing from the corner of a room, head out of a door, that certainly led to the dance floor. Damn, he hated that word, but like the way her face lit up seeing him.

“Oh! You came!”

Now, if his heart had jumped when Ichigo had first seen her, now something else did when she walked up to him in tight clothing, working out clothing, that hugged everything and didn’t leave much to the imagination. The man quickly got his backpack into his hands and placed it in front of his groin. Breathe in, you can do it.

“Well, huh, I told you I would come, right?” He chuckled airily, watching her smile again, her shoulders lifting up in happiness, her breasts bouncing NO DON’T THINK ABOUT IT.

“Thank you for coming, sir. You are right on time for the 3PM lesson. Others should come, but classes are mostly in the morning. Though I could make an exception for you!”

She brought her hands together in a small clap, and Ichigo did blush but desperately hoped it didn’t show.

It did, and the young woman pointed at the door in the back, with written in both English and Japanese “changing room”.

“You can go get changed, here is the key. Please be ready in 10 minutes.” she bowed to him slightly and walked back to the studio, slower than when she came in, and Ichigo felt his eyes trailing after her, impossible to stop himself or walk ahead as long as she was in here.

“I’m fucked.”

.

.

.

Yes, he was.

His young, overactive and definitely way too interested brain had created this mental image of dancing lessons, yoga sessions and massages to be a place of filth, where people turned into beasts and let nature rule them over as one of them was bended over a table while the other pounded in them. Instinctively, the clever and thinking part of said brain had stopped the idea, assuring him they were only fantasies young people in rut had twisted to fit their horny selves.

Unfortunately, part A of the brain had been right, and part B admitted defeat immediately when the session started with stretching methods.

With the instructor showing, naturally.

Going up, down, to one side then the other, running around the room wasn’t that bad. It actually helped get rid of the incoming boner Ichigo felt growing, and he stopped at the end to breathe out, now completely calm.

Apart from the moment she had come up to him to gently help him get the posture right, expertingly taking his hands to place them where needed, showing him how to do the exercise, her butt for him to see, and it was easy to think it was simply a coincidence.

One that brought his hard on back.

Then Orihime Inoue, the instructor, who had given him her name at the very start of the session so they would stop calling each other “Miss” or “Sir” as if they were still in school, came next to him and asked him to do some squats.

“I don’t see how that helps the dancing…” He doubted, looking at her in the eyes, and she chuckled lightly, raising her hand to pick up his arms and place them in the air, in front of him.

“Dancing is beautiful and powerful when you have good leg muscles. And while you do have muscles, if they themselves are not powerful enough, you won’t last very long.” She explained.

He sighed, argument hitting the spot, and did as many squats as her, next to him. If he was going to do some body work, then it would have been better to simply just go to the gym…

“Come on, don’t day dream! Do 50 and then we’ll see how you dance.”

The world stopped, all the clocks ticking in the empty void, head turning to stare at her incredulously, catching her puffing out her cheeks and laughing out loud, holding on to his shoulder to avoid slipping on the ground.

“I’m kidding, Ichigo-san! Don’t worry!” She kept laughing in her hand, and the young man felt several things : first, shame for letting his fear sweat outside of his body. Second, amusement at her dorky laughter.

The third emotion was out before he could control it, pulling her close to him and taking her hand off her face. Orihime looked shocked by his actions, ears and cheeks reddening from the effort as well as embarrassament.

“What…”

“That’s enough exercising for now. Let's get to the real work.”

He looked into her eyes, who had kept on looking up and down his body for the last half hour, her hands who ran up his arms to land on his collarbones, mouth opening slightly to let out nothing but a tiny “yes”.

He had been on fire for multiple reasons in life : because of anger against his father, his friends, sometimes his sisters. Because of grief, when he had to help other family members carry his mother’s coffin. Because of anxiety and weariness, because of exercise.

But this time, when he walked the two of them to a bench by the side of the room, he was burning in need and hunger.

Orihime was also fever like, the nice and calm mask she had slipped on falling away with her tank top, leaving her in just a sports bra while she kissed Ichigo deeply, tongue easily giving up the dominance in favor of the man’s own flexing muscles.

The sound of the music all but disappeared when their bodies collapsed together, hungry kisses and nails like tiger’s claws on each other’s skins.

With a quick breath, Ichigo pulled away from her mouth to kiss her neck, lapping at it gently, her hand going to his hair while he touched the skin of her hips and stomach. Softness and hard muscles seemed hard to combine, yet there she was, smooth smooth skin covering powerful muscles, ones that he would enjoy teasing.

After the kisses, his head got lower and lower, caging her lower stomach, not touching in the slightest her breasts, that would come later.

“Hmf, what are you... “

“Sh, don’t talk too loud, others might hear.”

He grinned from ear to ear, looking up as he licked his lips, her breath catching in her throat. Orihime’s hand suddenly caught his hair and pulled him up, as gently as possible, and they kissed again, one nibbling on the other’s lips, Orihime’s hands getting under the man’s wet shirt, feeling the tight muscles, the crease between each abs, the v line digging in his shorts.

“No one else is here… So, don’t hesitate to yelp, Ichigo.”

She murmured agaisn’t her lips before going deeper in her search, this time digging in his shorts to find what she seeked with a grin.

Ichigo yelped indeed, not expecting the woman under him to get so bold, yet there she was, feeling him up and stroking him in his damn shorts.

Fuck, would be the right word to use.

He didn’t utter a single vowel, bringing her pants and her underwear down rapidly, going back to kiss her as their lips found each other again, lost in moans and the electric touches of their tongues. Orihime kept on stroking him, gently pumping him up and down, the member in her hand turning even harder as she placed her thumb on the slit. Slick came out of it, and she chuckled at the man’s reaction : eyes closed and shaking behind the eyelids, Ichigo seemed ready to burst at any moment, but he groaned, not accepting an early end.

His finger, that had been on her lower stomach, stroking at her sensitive part, now had entered her, one by one. The long digits didn’t waste any time in looking for her gspot, that tender place inside of her that would make her see stars in seconds, if he was careful enough.

“Ichigo… No, not like, th-that…” She moaned against him, her free hand digging in his hair, pulling her face in his neck to try to resist the impossible pull on her body. “I… need….”

“I know, baby, I know… Let me take care of it…” He whispered back to her, placing one kiss on her forehead. His fingers came out of her, taking her own hand off of him, even if he twitched in insubordination. “You’re all good, Hime, you’re good…”

He reassured her, voice gentle like he knew she liked, hands lowering his pants to angle his cock to her. Ichigo finally freed her breasts from their confined space, letting them overflow on her chest, filling his vision with sights of her blushing face and exposed tits.

“You’re beautiful Hime…”

He smiled at her, rubbing her nose with his with a grin that she gave back, before entering her fully, nice and slow. She yelped this time, voice resonating in the empty room, but never stopping her sweet sound and words towards him as she dug her fingernails in his back, feeling him getting as deep as possible, filling her up to the brim, the end, to the heart.

She pushed her head out of his neck, and with a tiny frown, pouted.

“You didn't play.”

Ichigo winced, the tightness of hers squeezing just right around him, and nodded his head.

“I’m sorry… I tried, but you always look so fucking amazing in sports wear… fuck, I couldn’t just pretend I didn’t know my own fiancée!”

Orihime didn’t answer, couldn’t really, and pulled him back down against her generous mounds before he got started with his thrusts, rocking them carefully against the oh so fragile wooden bench of his future wife’s dance studio.

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I’ll never forgive my playlist for making me turn what was supposed to be absolute filth into sweet love making on a bench.

Tell me what you thought of it, and how I can better myself!

[memoriashell]

with age comes wisdom ( or at the very least, entirely unneccessary celebrations )

Characters /  Pairing: Fukawa Touko / Naegi Komaru ( focused ), Syo / Komaru, Warriors of Hope

crossposted on ao3

Notes: happy @tokomaruweek week everyone!! i love these funky wlw so i am going to try and have some stuff up this week, but i probably won’t manage to do the whole week / i'll go back to do the ones i miss afterwards? we’ll see.

for today i decided to combine the birthdays + warriors of hope prompts.

i’m also just ignoring canon’s timeline bc god knows i did not want to figure out that bs sorry dr3 ily but i dont love you that much just know it is somewhere post sdr2 / pre dr3 probably?

i also use they/them for syo ( nonbinary hc ) and while there aren’t any specific trauma mentions, given the group of characters this revolves around, there’s refrences to the fact they have shit lives. and some lighthearted murder jokes and self-deprication?

Summary: nothing says happy birthday quite like babysitting her ( favorite ) group of brats

It’s just her luck that this would happen— a coincidence for sure, but that doesn’t make Touko any happier about the whole thing.

This is the situation: they don’t usually see the ( former ) Warriors of Hope much. The kids stay on their side of Towa, and her and Komaru tend to stick closer to the adults. The adults are the ones that need to be kept under supervision, in her opinion. Not that the kids are blameless, but is there much reasoning with brainwashed kids? No. Of course not. Are the adults also practically brainwashed and hard to reason with. Yes. Would this all be easier if Future Foundation was involved? Yes. Yes it would, but for obvious reasons they are not ( they have all agreed to omit some information from public record for the sake of those involved, and right now Naegi’s stunt with the Remnants have Future Foundation’s attention away from them ).

Sometimes Komaru takes some of the things that they get over to the kids because things are rough enough as it is, and Syo will go with her because they can keep the Monokuma off their tracks better. Or you know, because Syo is generally more helpful to Komaru when it comes to things like that. She’s not jealous.

Allegedly— Touko does not know this for a fact herself since she hadn’t been fronting, and only learns this second hand while she is in the middle of typing up a report to send back to the foundation— Kotoko is the one to bring it up, casually handing off some of her share of the cookies Komaru had made for them, to Jataro. An early birthday present, she had said ( pointedly ignoring Nagisa, who’d pointed out she had given Jataro the ones he hated ), before turning to Komaru to ask if they could throw a party. A small one. With no murder, because that would be ‘totally not adorbs’. And no adults, because they stink ( it goes unsaid that Komaru and Touko themselves are the clear exception to this rule, which is some kind of progress, supposedly ).

That seemed like a fairly reasonable request, according to Komaru, who’s only response was to ask when his birthday was. And then accidentally lets it slip that hey, that’s the week that Touko-chan’s birthday is! And that’s how Touko finds out that apparently, she’s having a joint birthday party with the kids because Masaru managed to turn a party into a competition, somehow? Touko has no clue what that actually entails, because Komaru refuses to elaborate.

( Also, at one point before leaving, Komaru had tried asking Jataro if there was anything she could get him; to which he’d remarked, “A new mask?”

...Yeah, Touko can’t blame her for not knowing what to say to that, even if Komaru had spun it as not the most self-deprecating thing he could have said, which was an improvement? She personally disagrees, but whatever )

Here, she should point out the obvious fact that she does not want to really celebrate her birthday, let alone have a party for it. Because those kind of things lean so far into the zone of things Touko doesn’t really know how to handle, that it makes her close to uncomfortable. And if— if she had humored herself in imagining how she would ideally spend her birthday this year; quite frankly, it would be very quiet and boring and only with Komaru. Not with a group of ten year olds. Ten year olds that she might think of rather fondly, but ten year old brats all the same.

( It’s not like she has any alive friends: if Touko acknowledges the other survivors, justifiably they are too busy with more important matters to fuss over a birthday. They aren’t kids anymore. Some of them hadn’t ever really been like normal kids to begin with, but that’s besides the point )

“Look at the bright side,” She starts, and she bites back a snide what bright side and remark about how that’s all Komaru’s good at ( it’s not. She’s more talented than she gives herself credit for ). “None of you probably have really positive memories when it comes to birthdays or parties, so even if it isn’t the greatest, at least the bar to please should be pretty easy to clear!”

Touko thinks she probably gets the point she is trying to make here, but Komaru’s complete and utter lack of tact doesn’t make for the best delivery. “Are you trying to...to make me feel bad? S-So sorry my life was complete sh-shit growing up.”

“No! That’s not what I meant at all!” Komaru pouts at her. “Does that mean you’re not interested in having a party?”

It’s not like she’s so cold-hearted and selfish that she’s going to say no to that. Well, no, that’s not quite true, Touko might be just that; but it doesn’t really matter either way, because Komaru gives her best kicked dog impression, so she says ( a less than enthusiastic ) no, she doesn’t mind, yes you can have a party; even if she thinks she’ll probably regret that choice.

Okay, if you are to be honest with herself, some part of Touko that never got to be a normal child doesn’t entirely mind the thought of a party, even if it’s...not the most ideal scenario, the impractical fantasy situation that lives in her head. But if she says that aloud, Komaru will either take it too seriously, use it as an excuse to celebrate things more often, or something else that probably has consequences that she doesn’t want to think about. And also admittedly because if she says it aloud, she has to acknowledge it, and maybe she doesn't want to get her hopes up over something as stupid as a party.

( There’s also the fact that, deep in her extremely repressed memories of Hope’s Peak before the tragedy, she does remember parties. Birthdays. Celebrating things with her classmates, if somewhat forcibly so. She has no desire to remember those things, so those feelings remain repressed with most of her trauma )

It’s easy to not acknowledge any of that when she has to deal with the sudden onslaught of a headache that is Syo forcing themselves into their shared headspace, hand rubbing at her temples. Not trying to co-front, she can tell they aren’t trying to snatch control from her ( for now ), just forcing her to pay attention to them. It works, even though Touko has told them to not do this specifically because of how irritating it is for her.

I could scare the kids into cooperating? It’ll save us a headache and a half! Syo offers, maybe too eagerly. Their ideas of scare and cooperate are probably different from her own. Still. She also knows Syo is aware of more than they are letting on, given that they had been present when this conversation had occurred, but she doesn’t think she’ll get much out of them in that regard.

No. Touko tells them firmly. It’ll be counterproductive, Komaru won’t let you do that, and they’re all traumatized enough without you adding to that.

Boo, you sure about that? Consider it a birthday gift from me!

No. She repeats herself sternly, and she feels them withdraw a bit after that. Ugh, Syo hasn’t had a chance to front much recently, now that she thinks about it. Since they usually only take over when she’s in danger, and she hasn’t really been in ( as much ) danger now that things are starting to calm down. Well, relatively speaking. Syo is probably just looking for an excuse to be allowed to front, since it’s probably rough going from being very present to rarely getting the chance to be out: akin to going cold turkey on an addiction. That’s not exactly her fault ( or theirs ), but maybe she’ll ask Komaru if she’d be okay with hanging out with Syo more, if only to placate them a little, before they try something more drastic.

“Everything okay? That was Syo, right?” She hears Komaru ask after a few minutes, and Touko rubs her eyes and blinks. “You looked a little frustrated.”

She considers telling her the truth, but no point in getting her concerned over nothing. She’d like to figure out what she wants to negotiate with Syo firstm so she’ll leave that conversation for another time. “Fine. They just...ugh, just wanted to make sure I was okay with it.”

“And you are okay with it, right? You aren’t agreeing just because I asked?” Touko thinks she begged more than she asked, but she’s pretty sure Komaru will only sulk if she brings that up.

“I wouldn’t let you if, if I was really opposed to it.” Probably. She...trusted Komaru, or something like that, so she figures she’d probably be more honest with herself and not mentally torture herself by putting herself through something she has no interest in. “But...what are you even planning on doing to celebrate? I can’t im-imagine we’ve really got much around here that we can use for a party.”

“Ah. Uhm.” Komaru looks a little embarrassed at that. “About that. I was kind of hoping you and Syo might help pitch in. You don’t mind, right?”

You’re hopeless, she wants to mutter, but—

Yeah!!!! Syo wakes right back up upon being mentioned, no sense of self awareness at all, much to your annoyance, but it’s not like you completely disagree with the feeling that is shared between you two.

“You— You really bit off more than you could chew, hm...? Good thing this wasn’t supposed t-t-to be a surprise.” She quips, leaning over to peer at the paper she’d been making her notes on. “We’ll help, just tell us what we...what we need to do.”

“Thank you, Touko-chan! And Syo too!” Komaru sounds somewhere mixed between grateful and relieved, and casually plants a kiss on her cheek as if it’s no big deal—

She said my name last, so the kiss was for me! She knows Syo is intentionally trying to provoke her and get a rise out of her ( yeah, a rising sense of jealousy ), but puts that aside for the time being because Komaru’s blabbering on like nothing happened.

“I know we probably won’t have the whole day to ourselves to do whatever—” Correctomundo, Dekomaru! “— but I’ll make it up to you on your birthday, okay? We’ll do something that you want.”

“You don't...there’s no need for that.” She forces out between gritted teeth, trying to ignore the flustered feeling in the pit of her stomach, chewing around a fingernail ( what an unattractive sight to follow that ). “Because— ugh, don’t repeat th-this, okay? What I want to do is spend time with...with you. That’s all. So don’t go...you don’t need to go out of your way trying to do s-s-something over the top. Stick to being normal.”

“Really? You’re sure?” Komaru sounds a little uncertain, but happy enough to pull her into a hug, despite her grumbled complaint. “Oh, but Syo has their own birthday, don’t they? So I should probably ask them what they want as well, right?”

“Don’t make me repeat m-myself. It’s embarrassing...” Touko huffs, but lets herself be held against her side, just for a moment. It’s nice, though she won’t admit it ( it is better than any real gift that she could receive ). Syo is kind enough to back off long enough to let her have this moment. “You can ask them later— focus on, on what you need to plan.”

By something short of a miracle, they are able to pull together a party that is not a complete disaster, even if Komaru probably has a point when she says the bar to clear is a pretty low standard for all parties involved. The closest she has to an actual concern is the very narrowly avoided fight that almost breaks out when Masaru and Kotoko fight over which one of them should give their present first— which is apparently the competitive aspect of the party? It’s probably meant to be heartwarming, if it were not such a foreign thing to Touko. Which Nagisa is quick to put an end to: because this is how they would treat Monaca, which is not inherently healthy, and she’s glad that at least one of them can recognize that fact now. Jataro spends the entirety of the fight trying to hide behind her long skirt and, relatable kid, and rubs the top of his head while Komaru tries to both scold them for fighting and appease them because they’re, well. Kids. Who still need to learn some things and have time to unlearn things.

So yeah, it’s a good party— for not being on her actual birthday, she’ll consider it one of the better memories Touko has associated with the day. The start of many, she’d like to hope.

[joon-ipersgirl]

O6 - “the jaded jessica rabbit”

genre: mafia!au, angst, fluff, slow burn, mystery-thriller

pairing: namjoon x reader (f)

word count: 3.8k

warnings: cursing, mentions of alcohol, some vulgar-is dirty talk at the end (not the way you think lol)

summary: charismatic. beautiful. fearless without question. the ambitious team of seven young men in charge of spiral, downtown district’s hottest new club, go above and beyond to provide 100% satisfaction to their clients.

after an eventful night out, you have no choice but to join the team for property damages greater than your intern salary. challenging a series of events that can no longer be left to coincidence, secrets threaten to burst at the seams as your professional and private life collide, and another - more sinister - debt is added to your total. 

how far are you willing to go to pay back your pound of flesh? remember, nothing is ever as it seems...

a/n: hello everyone! wow, i received some really nice comments about this fic so thank you. like seriously. i’ll keep you guys posted on discontinuing or not. i only have a few more parts pre-written so i may just post those and decide after. either way, i hope you enjoy. this was fun to write :) leave me an ask and let me know what you think and any theories as to what you think the boys are up to!

full masterlist // series masterlist // previous // next

Staring at yourself in the full length mirror in your room, you conclude you look crazy. How Suga had approved this uniform is beyond you, especially as winter hasn’t let you out of her cold, damp grip. You adjusted the waist of your skirt again as you try your best to make sure your ass isn’t hanging out the bottom. At least the neckline of the t-shirt is high enough that all of your assets aren’t on display. You guess you could appreciate how nice your legs look in the sheer black stockings you’d paired with the look.

You try your best to fit the vibe Spiral is going for and keep your makeup fairly neutral except for the bright red matte lipstick across your lips. Your hair was swept into a slick low bun, a few tendrils left out to frame your face. Though it probably isn’t part of the vibe, you throw on your chunky gold hoops to add some personality. Honcho could kiss your pretty little ass if he didn’t like it.

A soft meow! broke you out of your inner monologue. “Rosalia!” you coo at your shared Russian Blue cat. She saunters into the room and makes herself comfortable on your Queen-sized bed. “Don’t wait up,” you tell her as you grab your small backpack and trusty black, wool overcoat. It was time to head to Spiral.

“This must be the new spot for the young folk, huh?” your Uber driver, George, asks as he pulls onto the interstate. He’s an older man that could have probably been your grandfather. You pay him no mind. Maybe he would get the hint that you weren’t interested in having a conversation if you barely respond.

“Hmm?”

“You’re the third young woman I’ve picked up to head there tonight,” he explains. You look up at him quickly through the rearview mirror.

“Oh really?” you ask absentmindedly. George nods, his cap looking to flop off of his head.

“Oh yeah. They were so excited about it being back open since it got closed down for that robbery they had 2 months ago, though I don’t know if those young boys can handle running an establishment like that,” he mutters.

“Why do you think that?”

“They aren’t paying their respects to the elders in the business. Respect will go a long way you know?” he adds as he exits off the highway and heads towards the “party” area of downtown. You sit up, intrigued by what he’s saying.

“Respect to the elders? In the business? What do you mean?” you inquire again.

“You can’t just pop up on someone else’s territory without explaining what you’re doing there, even if it was an order for expansion,” he explains. You glance out of the window; you were close to the club. Time is running out.

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean, sir.”

“Of course you do, young lady.” George smiles at you through the mirror as you stare at him confused. “Robberies of that sort don’t just happen outta nowhere,” he elaborates, his words seeming to take on another meaning. You open your mouth to respond, but he cuts you off with a whistle.

“Wow, it didn’t look like that when I was just here.”

You turn to look out the window and your eyes widen as you take in the line, the neon red sign brightly illuminating the street. It wraps around the corner of the club and extends down the street past where your eyes could see. Numerous patrons are huddled together to stay warm as they brave the chilly wind. It’s only 9pm and the club doesn’t officially open until 10pm. Had news of the re-opening spread so quickly?

George pulls up to the curb. “You be safe now, miss,” he says pointedly, turning in his seat to deliver his seemingly innocent warning.

“You too. Have a good night,” you tell him as you step out of the car and he tips his hat in response. The conversation leaves you uneasy as he pulls away and you’re left on the corner of the street looking very much so like the woman of the night you feel in your uniform. You don’t stand for too long as the icy wind slashes across your legs, forcing you to head inside.

You approach the front of the line, much to the groans and protests of the people at the front. You ignore them. No one had told them to arrive at least an hour early and subject themself to this kind of torture for a few measly drinks and to rub up and down on another equally sad individual.

“Y/N!” Jack calls out to you from the front door of the club. He looks good in his own large bomber jacket, black skull beanie pulled low over his dark brown hair and the tips of his ears. Though he’s the size of any pro NFL quarterback, you could only see him as a rugged teddy bear when he grins at you like that.

“Jack,” you greet him with a soft smirk of your own. “How are you?”

“Good. Cold, but good. Ready for tonight?” he asks cheerily.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you said, chuckling. He smiles at you again and holds the door open.

You duck under his arm and slip off your coat as you head down the stairs. Spiral looks incredible after the renovation and you’re surprised at how well everything flowed together; Min might actually know a thing or two about interior design. The new, red neon lights along the floors and the ceiling add to the ambience and the sleek black marble furniture fits in well with the leather booths.

Standing around the bar where the rest of your coworkers in their uniforms. Jin, Luca, and Moon are setting up behind the bar, the three of them looking like the city versions of Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades. Not necessarily in that order though; Luca would definitely be Hades. Honcho and Suga chat quietly to one another while Savannah prattles on with Tae, her arms moving wildly as she explains whatever story she’s so into. Jeon and Micah are tucked on the other side of the bar, a comfortable silence settling between them. Giselle sits alone on a bar stool as she scrolls on her phone completely oblivious to her surroundings.

“Good evening Y/N. So nice of you to grace us with your presence,” Moon remarks. You ignore the way his eyes flit across your body as you approach the bar.

“Finally Kid. We’ve been waiting,” Suga calls from where he stands, his mint hair falling into his eyes.

“You guys act like I was 45 minutes late or something. What’s going on?” you asks.

“Did you go clock in?” Honcho asks, ignoring your question. You shake your head. “Do that, put your stuff away, and then come back here. We’re having a staff meeting.”

You nod and set off towards the employee lounge. It’s a fairly small room with some lockers available to store your things as well as a miniscule refrigerator to store some snacks as you wouldn’t be leaving until at least 3am. You carefully fold your coat as best as you can before shoving it into one of the lockers and shutting it closed.

The cold metal of the lockers presses into your back as you lean against it for support. It’s finally hitting you that you’re back at Spiral. Where you shot a gun. Where you shot a man. Where you got shot at. You look at the slight burn that’s on your upper forearm. You let out a shaky breath. Fear couldn’t get the best of you now. You had work to do, clues to discover, and a man to find before he found you first.

“Took you long enough!” Honcho calls out as you perch on the edge of the bar stool. A roll of your eyes is your only response. “Great. Everyone’s here. It’s opening night and the line is wrapped around the building. People still want to experience us, and experience us they shall. You all have your positions. Do your job well, and we shouldn’t have any issues. Anything else to add?” Honcho turns to Moon.

“Be engaging and if there are any issues, find myself or Honcho. Only.” Moon directed his last comment to you. “Suga?”

“Don’t fuck up,” Suga says with a shrug and the room erupts in laughter. “Let’s have a good night.”

The meeting is dismissed as Suga heads up to his office and you use the last 20 minutes to do the last of the prep of our stations. Tae has started spinning tunes from his booth as you vibe out. Jin and Luca are tending to the downstairs bar while Moon heads up to the VIP lounge. You and Giselle are tasked with serving tables on the main level, Savannah and Micah on the second. Jeon had left to man the main door with Jack. Everything is set.

You peek at Jin as you secure the little black fanny pack with the notepad and pen to take orders around your waist. Your conversation from earlier in the week flits across your mind and you narrow your eyes in determination; it was time to get to work.

“Here!” Giselle calls over the increasingly loud music. “It’s tequila!” She pushes the shot into your hand. You can hear the chatter of people starting to enter the establishment faintly. You toss the shot back and she grins. It was definitely time to get to work.

“I need a strawberry daiquiri, a lemon drop, a mango margarita, and a blue hawaiian!” you yell to Luca as you lean over the bar, waving the ticket in your hand to try and grab his attention. He serves his customer at the bar before grabbing the ticket from you.

“It’s fucking crazy in here!” he yells back. You nod and look out into the crowd.

Spiral hadn’t been open a full hour and a half, but it was like there was no room to walk. Talk about packed. The air is thick with heat and hormones as people dance in the middle of the floor, bodies swaying sloppily from the amount of alcohol they’d already consumed. You’re grateful you’d decided to tie your hair back because Gods knew how it would look after your shift was over. The demand for drinks hadn’t slowed down once, putting your personal mission on hold.

“Order up!” Luca calls and shoves the drinks over to you on a tray. You huff as you balance it in both hands and head back through the crowd.

As you approach your table, your mood sours. Instead of there being four girls sitting in the booth, a fifth has arrived. Your favorite crime scene investigator. Her hair hangs down around her shoulders in loose waves instead of the tight ponytail it was in when you first saw her. Her white off the shoulder dress clings tight to her body as she rests on the edge of the booth, her legs crossed. You set the tray down a little harder than needed as the rest of her friends jump.

“Oh. It’s you,” she says in disdain. You ignore her as you set their drinks down in front of them.

“Hi, my name is Y/N and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I start you off with anything or would you care to see the menu?” you ask, giving her the usual speech. She looks bored as you stand there waiting.

“Hmm, nothing that you can give me. Have you seen Moon? I need to speak with him,” she says.

“He’s working in VIP. I’m not sure if you have the clearance to be up there,” you say with a smile. She glares at you.

“You barely have the clearance to work here,” she spits. Just as you’re going to respond, you feel a heavy hand on your shoulder.

“Y/N, why don’t you go on break? Jennifer, so nice to see you again. Shall we?” It’s Honcho. If you weren’t so angry, you would have been frightened at his ability to move so swiftly in a crowded room.

Jennifer, in all her raggedy glory, brushes past you with a smirk. You barely resist the urge to drag her back by her half-assed waves and pummel her smug face into the pretty black, marble table. Watching her saunter up the spiral staircase makes your blood boil. Who did she think she was? You excuse yourself from your patrons once you make sure they no longer need you and head for the restroom. If the boss says it was time for a break, who were you to oppose? It was time to figure some things out.

“Y/N!” Jin’s voice is barely audible over the blaring bass Tae is blasting. You roll your eyes.

“I’m on break!” you yell to him as he beckons you over.

“I need you to do me a favor!” he shouts as you approach his side of the bar, Luca hurriedly making drinks on the other.

“I need you to stop lying to me, but I guess we all can’t get what we want,” you say with a shrug and turn away.

“Y/N, please. Honcho hasn’t come back down for this order. Can you run it upstairs for me? I’d do it myself, but -” He gestures to the people surrounding the bar waiting for his attention.

“I told you, I’m on break,” you emphasize.

“Please,” he asks once again, resting his hand on top of the bar. You glare at him.

“Fine, but you owe me,” you say pointedly. He flashes you a beautiful smile before setting the tray filled with a glass of white wine, a pint of beer, and a whiskey sour.

“You’re the best!” he calls as you heft the tray onto your shoulder and make your way to the stairs.

The second level is less crowded than downstairs, but all the booths are occupied with men in luxurious suits and their companions dressed in their finest dresses. It reeks of expensive perfumes and stuffy cigars. Some of the velvet curtains are drawn and you didn’t want to know what could possibly be happening behind them. Honcho is nowhere to be seen and you grow impatient as the tray’s weight settles into your arms. This was becoming tiring.

“Hey Y/N! How’s it going? Do you need some help?” Savannah chirps as she ducks through one of the closed curtain booths, her blonde hair a little disheveled. Interesting. Definitely didn’t want to know what kind of sunshine service she was providing.

“Uh, yeah. Have you seen Honcho? These are his drinks,” you say gesturing to the tray in your hands.

“Hmm, not for the past few minutes. Maybe he’s in the back?” She points to the hallway leading to the third level. You sigh. You’d been sent on a wild goose chase.

“Alright. Thanks.”

You dodge a drunk woman who seemed dangerously close to breaking a heel, the pint of beer sloshing over the side and soaking the front of your shirt. You clench your jaw in anger. Slamming the tray down angrily on one of the high tables, a few of the customers jump at the noise. You know your smile is not friendly by the way they lower their heads and avoid your gaze as you march past. At this point, you were taking an additional half an hour break; they owed you.  

The bathroom on the second level is empty as you try to wipe the stench of beer from your shirt. Your first night and you’re already fed up with Miss Fake Jessica Rabbit, Jin and his favors, and the spilled drinks. In fact, you’re highly irritated. You’re ready to go home. Giving up trying to salvage your shirt and resigning to smelling like beer for the next 2 and a half hours, you head to exit the restroom, but stop when you glimpse the back of Jessica Rabbit herself.

“I don’t know, Moon. It’s not looking too good on our end.” You tuck back behind the door, leaving it slightly ajar to hear what they’re saying. Thank Gods for the acoustics of this hallway.

“Didn’t this case just get planned?” he asks. “Vance was supposed to secure this contract for us after we were down for those couple of weeks. What happened?”

“I don’t know. Things have been a little busy with Julian going haywire. I haven’t seen Vance in two weeks. Someone mentioned something about reputations and what not -”

“We just started this operation. We barely have a reputation, Jen,” he emphasizes. “But we’ve been damn good at what we do, so I’m not understanding what the issue is.”

“What are we not understanding?” You almost stumble back as Min passes the restroom but catch the door with your fingers before it can slam shut. You exhale slowly as you recover, peering through the small slit of the door again.

“We just lost the Fader contract,” Moon tells him.

“Wait, wasn’t that supposed to come out tomorrow? I thought we had it secured before it was set to be released.”

“So did I, but Jen said Vance couldn’t pull through. Something about reputations -”

“Reputations? If anything, we should be getting great reviews; I’ve been quick and effective with every job you’ve sent me on. So much so, we couldn’t take on all the clients because of demand.” You can hear the confusion in Min’s voice even with the music still thumping. “What changed? How is that affecting our operations?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Jen replies. “This is bad for business which is in turn bad for me.”

“There has to be something we’re missing. Min, do you think you could contact Santi-”

“Have y’all seen Y/N? She’s not on the floor and Savannah said she was looking for me,” Honcho’s voice rings out and you squeak, letting the door slam shut, effectively cutting off the sound of their conversation. Shit. You duck behind the partitioning wall and try to calm your breathing as someone knocks on the door.

“Is everything okay in here?” It’s Honcho.

“Everything’s great! Just slipped on some water and fell, but I’m good!” you call to him, cringing at your lie.

“Y/N? What the fuck are you doing up here?”

“I work here. What do you mean by what am I doing up here? I was trying to find you so I could give you your fucking tray with your drinks, but you were nowhere to be found,” you reply with just as much attitude, finally appearing around the corner and facing him. He looks at you confused as you stare him down.

“I was busy with a -- customer. Come on, you have work to do,” he says while grabbing your wrist.

“And you don’t?” you retort as he pulls you into the hallway where Min, Jennifer, and Moon are still standing. They look surprised to see you.

“Kitten!” Min exclaims as you approach them. “How’s your shift going?”

You shrug. “It’s going.”

“Shouldn’t you be getting back to work?” Jennifer asks rudely. You can just make out the frown on her face under the low lighting of the side hallway.

“Shouldn’t you have chosen a better outfit to solicit on a corner?” Honcho snorts and she glares at both of you.

“Kitten is feeling a little fiesty today,” Min hums, leaning against the wall.

“Y/N, you can’t say that to customers,” Moon chides you though you can tell from the faint showing of his dimples he’s amused at your words. You raise your eyebrows at him.

“Hmm, I guess it wasn’t dirty enough for good ol’ Jen, huh? How about on your knees in the back of the alley behind Spiral?” you offer. “Maybe you’ll get off if he reprimands you the way he’s trying to do me,” you ponder.

Jennifer’s face is red with anger as she continuously opens and closes her mouth to respond. You smirk as your own anger and irritation settles in your belly, happy that you’d gotten under her skin. Apparently too well as she rears her hand back and slaps me across your face. Tears spring to your eyes from the force of the blow and you blink at Honcho as you slowly comprehend what’s happened. She had well and truly slapped you. You whip your head around to face her and she gasps as she had now just realized what she’d done.

“Holy shit,” Honcho whispers. You grin as you step forward to stand in front of her, holding your ground. You were tired of her shit.

“Is that the way you like it, Jen? Hard slaps to the face?” you goad. “What about your pretty little ass, hmm?”

“Y/N, stop. That’s not necessary.” Moon steps in front of you, blocking your view of an almost teary eyed Jennifer. Ah, an angry crier. Your favorite.

“Oh come on, Moon. It’s just a little teasing, isn’t it? Just like how you all do to me. No harm, no foul,” you say nonchalantly, but your words have a sharper tone. The irritation of the night was getting to you.

“Y/N, let’s go downstairs,” Honcho says as he tugs on your wrist, trying to diffuse the situation. “Give everyone some time to cool off.”

“I am cool. I’m not going to hit her and ruin my chances of filing an assault claim,” you say with a chuckle. “You guys wouldn’t even have to testify against your little friend. The cameras will witness for me. And I can walk by myself, thanks. Continue whatever business you guys had going on,” you reply with a wave of your hand.

“An assault case! Are you crazy?! Bitch, fuck you!” Jennifer calls from around Moon’s large frame. You roll your eyes as you spin around to face them again.

“I’m as crazy as they come, babe. Pencil me in once you're done with your lover boy and I’ll let you know if I can squeeze you in with the rest of my appointments! Business is booming as they say!” you yell back and blow her a kiss. She scowls.

The four of them watch you go and you only rub your stinging cheek once you know you’re out of their eyesight. For a small woman, she had a heavy hand and you’re grateful it hadn’t been a punch; you couldn’t afford a trip to the dentist. It was time for you to cash in on that favor Jin promised you as you head down the spiral stairs. An old fashioned on the rocks is calling your name. You could use the ice.

full masterlist // series masterlist // previous // next

[otpnessmess]

For you, there’s nothing I wouldn't do

Here it is finally! The first part of the Jasonette fake dating AU I had promised. I’m working on the following parts already as I will have a couple of weeks with a lot of free time. I’m so sorry for disappearing. Enjoy!

Ao3 - Masterlist

Next

-

“You’ve officially lost your mind, Jay, I swear to God.”

When Marinette had agreed to get up early on a Sunday morning because Jason had asked her to hang out, she didn’t think she’d regret it five seconds into meeting her best friend at their favorite restaurant. And she hadn’t yet, but it was very close.

“Nette, please, I’m begging you right now. Do you want me to kneel and plead? Because I will, don’t try me.” His blue eyes had always been her weakness and the puppy face he was making at her right now almost made her agree on the spot to whatever insane plan he had come up with. The keyword being almost.

“Alright, let me just reiterate to make sure I’m understanding. Your father is hosting a gala in a month and you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend?” Marinette tried to keep her face as straight and serious as possible but it was proving hard since the words she had just said sounded utterly ridiculous.

“Pretty much, yeah. So, will you? I swear I’ll pay you if I have to, I just need you to help me out with this.” He had started to look hopeful since she had yet to outright deny him his request. “You know I love you Bug, and you’re the only one I can trust with something like this.”

Damn, he was good at telling her exactly what she liked to hear, and Mari was just not strong enough to say no to him, though she did plan to at least make him sweat a bit more for it. “Oh really? And what if I asked you for, I don’t know, a new car?”

Her forced attempt at being difficult hadn’t flown under Jason’s radar as he seemed to pick up on it and smirked. “We both know you would never ask for that since you refuse to let me pay for anything every time we go out, but if you did ask for that, know that I’m ready to do whatever you wish me to do. Do you maybe want an apartment? You did mention wanting to stop paying rent… ”

Despite the teasing tone in his voice paired with the sly smirk on his face Marinette knew he was dead serious which, even if it flattered her that her friend would even think about doing such a thing for her, made her backtrack on being difficult immediately.

“No! Argh, you’re impossible. Fine, I’ll follow along to whatever your brilliant plan is, but don’t you dare buy me an apartment, you crazy knobhead.” The look she shot at him tried to be venomous but seemed to be ineffective when the brightest grin took over Jason’s face as he moved to sit by her side to squish the living daylights out of the tiny woman.

“I swear I don’t know what I did to deserve you Nette, I love you.”

That earned him a playful smack on the arm as Marinette gave in and chuckled at his antics. “I love you too, you goofball. Now, get off of me and finish your breakfast.”

The man sat across her once again looking like the cat that got the canary, Cheshire grin in place. “You’re the best."

She pretended not to notice the way her heart paused for a beat when she saw the way Jason was looking at her, with caring eyes as if she was incredibly precious. Instead, the woman hid her face behind her mug of coffee.

"W-why do you need me to do this anyway? What do you need a fake girlfriend for?”

Jason’s demeanor instantly changed, his shoulders squared up and he frowned. “The annual gala my father holds for the company’s investors and partners is always full of old men who are full of themselves-”

“Doesn’t that remind me of someone?”

“Oh shut up, I at least have a good reason for it. They’re nothing more than a bunch of old hags who like to brag 24/7, and since this gala is in their "honor” they can bring guests with them. If I have to go by another year hearing them pitch their daughters and grand-daughters to me hoping I’ll date one of them, I’ll simply kill one of them. Some of the girls over the years have been nice but for every decent one you can actually talk to, you have at least 9 others doing the most ridiculous things to try and get your attention. I assume it’s what they are asked to do but I swear… And everyone else gets out of it too. Dick is already married to Kor'i, Tim is forever married to his job and Damian is not old enough for most of them. So that leaves me, the handsome Jason Todd, to carry the family’s weight on my shoulders.“

She snorted at the theatrical sigh he let out before laying his head on the table, immediately regretting it as he looked up at her with a glint in his eyes. "That’s where you, my dear Miss Dupain-Cheng come in. If I have a girlfriend, those girls will have to effectively back off of me as well, and I won’t have to restrain myself from being incredibly rude to them.”

“As if you could actually restrain yourself from being rude.”

Whether he didn’t hear her or just decided to ignore her comment Mari didn’t know, but once the monologue had been delivered, he leaned back on his seat with his signature smirk. “I’m a genius, I know.”

It took a whole lot from Marinette not to smack her dumbass of a friend again, but even she had to admit no one deserved to have their space invaded as she knew Jason had had in some of the other events his father organized, and if he was being truthful with her, then this gala was shaping to be even worse in that regard. If she could help her friend it would be enough for her, but in doing this she would also have an opportunity to design a gown to wear and hopefully get some people interested in her designs. Maybe she didn’t regret agreeing to this that much anymore.

“You’re one hell of a crazy person, Jay. You’re lucky you’re my best friend.” She rolled her eyes and nudged his leg with hers under the table with a smile. “We’ll have to do some planning this month and you better be ready. I’m not meeting your family for the first time as your fake girlfriend without running through each and every way this could catastrophically end.”

His shoulders relaxed as he nudged her leg back, relief flooding his face seeing her so committed. “Don’t worry Bug, they will love you, and I’ll explain everything to them after this is over, but if they are in on it from the start I just know one of my brothers will screw it up. I think we can pull it off though, and you know I’m always up for a challenge.”

The already familiar confidence rush that ran through Marinette whenever Jason reassured her that everything would be fine made an appearance once more, and at that moment she completely trusted themselves to be able to make do with this crazy-ass plan. After all, Jay was stubborn and always ready to jump in head-first into the weirdest situations.

Newsflash. This time he wasn’t.

Jason had known it was risky to ask his best friend to play pretend so he could get rid of the sticky girls from the gala.

Not because he thought she would refuse, but because of his own feelings.

Truth is, he was in love with Marinette and had been ever since five months into their friendship they encountered two thugs trying to rob a teenager on their way to school. Jason had put one of them down but, before he could go for the second one, Marinette already had knocked him out.

Her breathing was just a bit labored from throwing the man over her shoulder and one of her pigtails had come off from where the robber had grabbed it, but then she turned to wink at him with a smile before going to see if the teen was alright. Red Hood could only feel the sound of his heartbeat in his ears.

Knowing Marinette was potentially able to kick his ass at any given moment had made him feel all kinds of things, and he was already a goner by the time she was back by his side.

That same night, and back in his bed, Jason was mulling over the earlier events. Read: thinking about Marinette. He had never felt so flustered around the tiny woman and it had proven to be a hard task to get her out of his head even when she had left for her own house several hours ago.

One thing led to another and soon he found himself reminiscing about the past months spent in Marinette’s company. How she always seemed to brighten up any room she walked into, making him feel like he should look away but being unable to. Her caring nature taking over whenever someone in need of help was in the vicinity, the tenderness with which she treated people’s injuries, be it physical or emotional.

Jason remembered the first time he had been at the receiving end of it. It had been the time when his identity as Red Hood was also revealed to her.

In his defense, he hadn’t expected Marinette to arrive early to his flat for their movie night only to find him trying to get the cuts all over his abdomen and arms to stop bleeding. Time seemed to freeze as they stared at each other, one sitting on a barstool at the kitchen isle, the other standing at the door with a bag of snacks in her arms. Marinette, being the quick-witted and resourceful person she was, recovered astoundingly quickly from her stupor and started chastising him while tending to the cuts herself while he could only look at her in awe.

Later, when he explained where he got injured, she didn’t seem fazed by discovering his identity. If anything she seemed…smug?

“What’s with that face? I expected more of a reaction:”

Her smile only grew at that as she put on the last bandage around his arm. “I’m glad you finally told me, but I kind of…already knew? I mean, I had my suspicions. You two had roughly the same measurements as far as I could tell, you also happened to go MIA whenever there was an emergency a time too many for it to feel like a coincidence. Also the little stunt you pulled the other day talking to me in the mask? You should’ve at least tried to fake your voice or something.”  Once she was done she patted his head with a wink and left him to process everything while she prepared the popcorn.

That wink had been so cheeky it left him swooning, heartbeat pounding in his ears.

Wait. That had felt familiar.

Oh.

Oh.

Jason was brought back to the present with such force he thought someone had slapped him. Laying on his bed, staring at the ceiling at 3 am he couldn’t tiptoe around the issue anymore. He wondered how he hadn’t reached this conclusion much earlier.

He was in love with Marinette.

He was in love with his best friend.

Dear God, he was so fucked.

That had been the moment he accepted he was so utterly in love with Marinette, and even though Jason had hoped that what he thought was a very one-sided love would subside eventually, with each passing day where he got to know her better and better he only fell harder for her.

Why was he even thinking about all of this? Oh right. He had asked Mari to play pretend as his girlfriend that same afternoon.

What could possibly go wrong?

Marinette had taken it upon her to have their lie be as believable as possible, which meant she wanted them to at least plan out what they’d do if certain situations arose while they were navigating the gala. What this meant was that the following month they had spent a whole lot of time together, maybe too much for Jason’s sanity to remain as stable as it could.

Even if he was used to meeting her at least twice a week and spending their weekly movie night together, Mari practically lived in his apartment now. And he wasn’t complaining at all, but by the gods, if it wasn’t so damn distracting to have her around. She would often keep him company while asking questions about the people who would attend the gala, working on her dress for it, or simply walking around the house jokingly complaining about how Jason tasteless choice of furniture and decorations made the living room look like a yard sale.

Oh, and there was also all the teasing. There had been a consistent amount of it between them before, but now it had turned into a constant stream of cheeky comments, smirk exchanges and usually a smack or two from Mari.

All in all, Jason had lived through both the most blissful yet most frustrating month of his life and the worst of it had yet to arrive, though time did pass by way faster than he would’ve hoped for.

And just like that, the big night was upon them.

-

And that’s it! Hope you liked this little thing and look forward to the next parts! Thank you a lot for reading <3

Tag List

@vixen-uchiha @18-fandoms-unite-08 @tbehartoo @queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm @queenmj10 @mochegato

[beanie-beebo-writes]

It follows

Series Summary: Reader is running from financial problems and his/her studies, will they catch up with him/her? Charlie's close friends (none other than Sam and Dean) go to check up on the reader due to Charlie becoming worried for him/her. Trouble pursues, as the reader wants to keep silent about his/her struggles.

Warnings: None

Masterlist

Chapter 14

Dean focused intently on driving down city side-streets, just in case if the creature back there decided to trail after them. He was bewildered, and honestly didn't know what to think, but he tried not to get too lost in thought as he sped to the motel. Hell, he was lucky he wasn't a midnight snack, based on the way it tried to ravish both Dean and itself.. For a good couple of minutes, the drive was silent, except for the sound of your heart pounding in your ears and an occasional thought passing through your mind.

"What exactly happened back there?" Sam asked.

"I don't know, I really don't. But whatever we are hunting, it is not a werewolf." Dean replied.

"Did you see what it was?" You asked curiously.

"That's the thing, I did, but, it wasn't anything I've seen before." Dean said.

You and Sam stared at Dean, hoping the discomfort would force him to continue explaining. As you expected, he glanced from the road, back at both of you.

"What?!" He finally asked.

"What did it look like?" Sam inquired.

"Well, it was in the form of this beautiful woman. It looked normal, at least until I slashed it with the silver knife; which had no effect on it, by the way. And it used some sort of power, healing the wound instantly. Not like angel mojo, but… I don't know." Dean explained.

"Anything else?" You asked, feeling like he was holding back.

"Um… well, it's like she put a spell on me." Dean admitted.

"And you didn't bother to tell us?!" Sam asked.

"I thought it was nothing, but I suppose now it could be important." Dean said.

"What did she specifically do to you?" Sam asked.

"I don't really know, to be honest.. It was like she was.. irresistible, and I couldn't control Mr. General-"

"Please don't tell me you..." Sam began to interrupt.

"God Sam, no, I didn't go down on her. At least, I wasn't going to, not until she started biting my neck." Dean said.

Sam massaged the bridge of his nose. "You could have spared the details, you know." He said in disgust.

"No, like, she was actually trying to feed on me, it was weird." Dean explained.

Both you and Sam looked in confusion at the elder Winchester; you hadn't even heard of this in the books.

"I guess it isn't a wolf." You mumbled audibly.

"Ya think?" Dean retorted.

"But that leaves us with one big question.. What is it then?" Sam asked aloud.

Silence filled the car once again as you all pondered deeply.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

As soon as you got back into the motel room, you all instantly hit the books, having no idea where to even start. You weren't really too skilled at this type of research, but you used what you knew from the series, hoping it would suffice. The first topic you figured you could start on, was a shapeshifter, but you instantly hit another dead end, since shifters weren't immune to silver. Your only resort now was anything that ate their prey.

"Could it be a rugaru?" You asked, reading into the lore.

"I don't think so," Dean said, "at least not like any I have ever seen. That thing had complete control, you should have seen it."

Sam cleared his throat briefly. "Maybe it had its urges under control?" Sam guessed.

"Maybe, but it seemed completely human to me, except for the feeding part. No wrinkling skin or black eyes… All normal. There was something about her face though, and I can't put my finger on it." Dean said.

"What about it?" You asked.

"It had a familiar aspect to it, like I've seen the features before."

"Like you knew her?" You asked.

"No, like I've seen similar facial features somewhere before, but I can't remember exactly where." Dean said.

"What were the facial features like?" Sam asked.

"She had a long pointed face..." Dean recalled.

"Like a stereotypical witch?" Sam asked with a chuckle.

"No," You responded, typing away on the extra laptop, "like a fox."

"There it is," Dean said with recognition, "how did you guess?"

"I've watched some interesting cartoons in the nineties." You responded with a smirk.

Dean looked at you with confusion and then to his brother, shrugging when they both didn't get the reference. You clicked on the first link that popped up, since it seemed remotely along the lines of the Winchester business.

"A Kumiho?" Dean asked, reading the title of the webpage.

"Yeah, it says here that it roughly translates to 'nine-tailed fox'." You stated.

Dean hummed in response, peering over your shoulder.

"Common lore says it transforms freely; many say that it turns into a woman, to seduce prey."

You all raised your eyebrows at the last statement and instantly looked at one another.

"This makes total sense," Dean said, "(Y/N), you're a genius!"

You blushed. "I mean, not really.." You replied.

"Are you kidding? It would have taken me and Sammy a good hour or so to crack this, and I think it's only been forty minutes. That's incredible!" Dean exclaimed.

"Thanks." You beamed quietly.

"Yeah, good work (Y/N)." Sam agreed, returning the smile.

Suddenly, the police scanner on Sam's computer popped up without warning, almost sending you to the floor. A male voice roughly came through the small speakers, ordering a squad to dispatch to East Morgan Street, near State Road 931. The attacker was unclear, but a young boy was both badly injured and traumatized by something the officer couldn't exactly place reason on.

"Alright, I definitely feel we should check this one out. It's likely what we're after." Sam said, standing up from his small work space.

"What have we got to lose?" Dean said.

The three of you quickly got into your federal attire and headed out to the general address provided. In a short amount of time you arrived to the scene. Multiple cop cars, and fire rescue squads were swarmed about, flooding the dark, desolate street with flashing lights. You adjusted your 'badge' and made your way to the police car in the center of the scene. A middle-aged cop stood on the side with a small group from the squad, who seemed to be discussing what he came across when he found the boy. The rest of the two teams attended to the boy on the back of an ambulance, addressing his wounds and occasionally asking him questions. You and Dean headed over to the officer, while Sam took to the boy. Your anxiety perked slightly, but you acted as nonchalant as possible, to try and not draw attention.

"Excuse me," Dean said, grabbing the group's attention, "I'm Agent Ford, this is my partner, Agent Griffith, would you care to explain the situation?"

"FBI? Why would you guys be interested in this? Isn't it a little early?" The middle-aged officer asked.

"We've been pinging these types of cases for a brief while, and we think it's the work of a specific killer, we picked this up on the radar." You responded confidently.

"Alright, that sounds reasonable." The officer said to you. "Tend to the scene guys, I've got this one." He said to his colleagues.

After his colleagues dispersed, you instantly asked for details on what had occurred not long before he sent out the alert on the scanner.

"It's weird, I was driving down here, patrolling the park for the evening shift, when this young boy ran straight in front of my car. Luckily, I wasn't going the speed limit, or both of us would have been roadkill. He came right out of the brush over there, and it looked like he got attacked by some wild animal or something. I got out of the car, and asked him what was wrong, and he just pointed to where he ran from. There was a woman, just standing inside the entrance of the woods, staring at us. I shone my flashlight, and she took off running. I couldn't leave the boy, so I called for backup." The officer said.

"Did he ever say what gave him those bites?" Dean asked.

"That's the thing, he said it was the woman." He replied with uneasiness.

"Did you have anyone go after her?" You asked.

"Some of the squad scoured the area, but they couldn't find anyone. Like I said, it was weird." He answered.

"What did the woman look like, officer.." Dean trailed off, gesturing to the cop.

"Mavin, sorry." He finished. "She was thin, her hair was infused with a natural red and a few other natural-born colors. Her face came to a point at the chin, and her nose was small but longer in length… Almost like.."

"A fox?" You said.

"Yeah..exactly! How did you know?" Marvin asked.

"Just intuition." You said.

"And you haven't seen her since?" Dean asked.

"No, thankfully. She had a weird vibe to her. But we have definitely on the lookout." He said.

"Thank you for your time, Officer Mavin." You said.

As you finished conversing with the officer, you saw Sam had already walked back from the ambulance, talking with another officer. He broke off the conversation as he saw you two walking up.

"What did you find?" Sam asked, putting his hands in his pockets.

"Looks like this coincides with the case," Dean replied, "The officer matched the attacker to a 'T'. It was the same thing that attacked me."

"That's promising; you know what the kid just told me? The lady lured him in, probably just like the other victims. Remember how Brayden's sister said that a woman was trailing her brother before he died? I think that's what has been happening with all of the victims." Sam said.

"I think you're right, but do you think we could take this back to the car or something? Cops make me uneasy." You admitted quietly.

The boys looked at you with understanding and agreed to your reasonable request. Without drawing much attention, you all went back to the beloved car to discuss what would happen next. But just before you hopped into the back seat, you could have sworn you saw two eyes glaring at you in the distance.

[prismarts]

A Bond That Lasts Centuries... (Chapter 1)

Plot: Hisirdoux Casperan, apprentice to Merlin, had been sent to the mortal realm to protect the mortals and finish the tasks given to him.... unknown to him and his familiar, an old student of Morgana Le Fay had been sent there by his master as well,...

Notes: It’s kinda just...fluff, it might not be really long I do want to try and write longer but I am already happy with the first couple of parts sooo yeah, Douxilly (Douxie x Oc) again of course, also just Archie being a good familiar but also just kinda teasing Doux, inspired by AATY by @alovesongshewrote

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Early to Mid 1500s

Douxie had been in the mortal realm for two centuries now, he's seen a lot during those periods of time and had been working hard to finish the tasks that Master Merlin's given him. While, at the same time, trying hard to keep the mortals from discovering his magic and keeping them out of harm's way from various magical creatures.

It was the early 1500s, Europe to be exact, where he was on his way to find an ancient artifact of Merlin's when he had decided to split up with his familiar, Archie. Who had taken this usual form of a black cat, roaming around the city and blending into the crowd.

They had planned to meet up at the end of the road in an alleyway, the apprentice knew how capable his familiar was at staying inconspicuous, so he had no problem with this plan at all.

What he didn't know was that a familiar face was about to make herself known to the cat dragon.

It was pure coincidence mind you, Illy was just blending into the crowd of mortals, walking along amongst them when she suddenly spotted a black cat.

Now, she could have assumed this was just any cat...But she recognized the mark on the cat's or rather familiar's chest. 

By now, she hadn’t made much of an effort to track Douxie and Archie.

She had assumed that they must have ended up somewhere far away by now and that she wouldn't have been able to find them even if she wanted to. But now, upon seeing the familiar, she grew...worried.

Even back in Camelot, Archie never strayed far from Douxie’s side and vice versa. They were as close as a familiar and wizard could be, so to see the cat without the wizard, concerned her.

Illy decided to follow Archie into one of the rather abandoned alleyways, wanting to check up on him while she had the chance to. Archie, being the observant familiar that he was, noticed someone following him almost immediately,

He turned around and saw her, needless to say, he was more than shocked.

"Illyria?...But...how?"

The last time he saw the young wizard, was back in Camelot and that was two centuries ago...

Illy smiled a little as she bent down to pet the familiar's head, "Master Merlin told me to leave a couple of hundred years ago...early 1300s if I remember.”, She paused, looking at him, “I spotted you in the crowd without Douxie and I wanted to make sure you were safe....how are you, Archie?"

Archie seemed a bit more surprised by her answer, a look of concern for the young wizard appeared on his face, "I'm fine, but you? Have you been alone all this time?..."

He knows that Illy was a somewhat inexperienced apprentice, only having a grasp at beginner’s magic and basic spells, it seemed concerning that she had been alone in the mortal realm.

"I handled myself well, Archie, don't worry. I'm glad you're alright....”, She paused again, the question on the tip of her tongue, “What about Douxie? Is he doing well?..."

"You could come with me and ask him yourself..."

Illy smiled at the idea, she missed Douxie dearly and it would be really nice for them to catch up after a couple of hundred years apart. But she shook her head.

"I wish I could, but Master Merlin sent me out her to do a few tasks for him as well...."

"Alright....if you're sure.....but if you ever need help, you can always find us.."

The young apprentice smiled gratefully as she petted Archie's head gently, one last time, "Thanks Archie, I will..... Say hi to Douxie for me...alright?"

She smiled as Archie nodded and soon stood up, waving goodbye to the familiar, she walked back out of the hallway and into the crowd, blending in almost immediately among the other mortals.

Not long after, Douxie ran towards the alley where Archie was, letting out quick and heavy huffs of breath from running around in a panic and looking for his familiar, he seemed relieved when he saw him.

"There you are, Arch! Did something happen? You're a bit farther back than where we agreed to meet." The wizard asked his cat dragon who was now looking up at him.

"I just ran into an old friend, Illyria, she asked me to-"

But Archie wasn't able to finish his sentence.

Douxie's eyes widen in surprise, he ran towards the crowd almost immediately to see if he could spot the girl and for a second, he thought he did. He desperately tried to catch up to her but there were too many people in the crowd...

He lost her...

His familiar was able to catch up to him rather quickly during this time. The cat jumped onto his wizard familiar's shoulder and lightly smacked his head with his paw.

"You know you shouldn't be running off like that, Douxie."

"I...just thought..... I could somehow catch up to her.."

The wizard sighed a bit, staring forward in the direction where he thought he spotted his old friend for a split second, "Was she doing alright, Arch?....", He asked, voice quiet and concerned.

"She'll find us if she needs us, Doux."

"Right, Master Merlin sent her here then?..."

"That's what she told me..." Archie gently patted Douxie's head with his paw, a form of comfort from the familiar.

"She'll be alright Douxie.."

After discovering that his old friend was somewhere in the mortal realm, Douxie had been keeping an eye out for Illy subconsciously. He was a naturally protective person and for him to find out that the shy, quite and often times, closed off apprentice was somewhere in a realm where magic is more and more unacceptable was worrying him to no end.

Despite that, he was able to collect artifacts and finish tasks set out to him by Merlin as he traveled around England. 

It would be a few years until Douxie would see a glance of Illy again, in the mid 1500s.

He wasn't sure what prompted him to but he immediately ran, pushing through the crowd to catch up to the wizard and once he caught up to her, he hugged her tightly.

Startling the poor girl even after she realized who it was.

'Modrax's miracles! I thought I could never catch up to you, Illy.."

"D...Douxie?.." Illy blurted out in surprise, feeling like a flustered mess as her freckled cheeks turned a slight red shade. The hug making her heart beat faste than she would have liked.

"Y..yeah, sorry about that, love...it's just...when Archie told me you were around, I had to check up on you.”, He pulled back from the hug, but held her shoulders gently. A relieved smile on his face as he looked down at her.

“We had no idea Master Merlin sent you here, if we did....we would have looked for you sooner.."

"I...it's alright Douxie...I'm alright...but.. it is nice to see a familiar face.."

The two immortals and the familiar retreated to a nearby alleyway to talk, having a bit to catch up together.

But most of that time was spent with Illy rambling excitedly about everything she's learned in the mortal realm so far. It wasn’t too surprising, she had always been eager to learn, a naturally curious young wizard. 

Given the fact that unlike Douxie, who had been teaching himself magic and had been using it to survive for years before Merlin took him in.

She had to suppress them to survive, living with her cruel mother meant that her magical potential had been stunted for most of her life before Merlin and Morgana took her in.

Douxie hadn't realized it himself, but he had started to stare at the girl as she talked, noticing how she gets a little fidgety with her hair when she's excited. The way she tended to run her fingers through her bangs whenever she did.

The way her turquoise colored eyes lit up with overexcitement, almost like bright stars in the night sky. It brought a fond smile to his face as he listened to her ramble on.

He may not have realized it, but Archie did.

They were able to spend a while together but soon had to go their separate ways to finish the tasks given to them by Merlin.

As they parted ways, Douxie stared at Illy, almost watching over her, like a familiar so often would, to make sure nothing bad happens to her as she walked away. 

To make sure no harm comes to his old friend..

"I hope she stays safe..." The wizard mumbled, concern and worry heavy in his voice, his familiar jumping up to perch on his shoulder.

"She's stronger than we know Douxie....she'll be alright."

“You're right Arch, she's....amazing..", A fond smile reached his face as he watched the silhouette of his friend disappear, further away.

"No wonder you kept staring at her then." The familiar noted as he looked at his wizard, a blunt but teasing tone in his voice.

Douxie felt his face slowly burn from embarrassment, a shade of red appearing on his cheeks. He glared at Archie for a moment.

"I was not!...it's....just been a while since I've seen her."

"Of course, that must be the reason."

"Yes. It is." The wizard grumbled as he walked off with his familiar.

[demivampirew]

Keep Calm and Go to London chapter 9

Synopsis: This is the story of (y/n), a successful actress, musician, musical producer and songwriter. After battling depression and breaking up a long relationship, she seeks for a change of air, escaping LA for a while going to visit some friends in London and there she meets Henry. -Disclaimer: some chapters are mostly smut.

Previous Chapters:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Triggers: conversation that refers to sex and mention of nude, but it’s not smut. It’s a pretty safe chapter for everyone to read.

Tag list: Here’s the incredible people who showed me support (thank  you   so much for that) and people who asked me to tag them too  ☺️   (I   think I will write a few chapters of this story, if you want me to  tag   you, tell me ☺️   ) @cavillanche @mary-ann84 @henry-owns-these-tatas @yespolkadotkitty @dancingwendigo   constip8merm8   penwieldingdreamer iloveyouyen  littlefreya  wondersofdreaming  alyxkbrl solariumss  sweetybuzz25 @thethirstyarchive @agniavateira   @honeyloverogers @hell1129-blog   @lunedelorient​  @michelle-1185​

You woke up with the annoying sound of your alarm. You felt warmth yet cold at the same time. Then, you realized that the reason was that Henry was not by your side holding you. You got up and went straight to take a quick shower and put on a soft pink cashmere sweater and tight white pants with a pair of white snickers. You went directly into the kitchen as you already knew Henry would be there. And you were correct. He was preparing you breakfast and scons for you to eat on the plane. He must have woke super early because everything was almost ready by the time you got up at 7 am. He made enough pastries for you to enjoy on your travel and to share with Beth. - So, you're staying with your friend, right?- he asked you - Yes. I'm currently homeless. - it sounded like a bad joke, giving the fact that you were wealthy, but it was actually true- I sold my beautiful mansion on LA to move with the one who must not be named and now I don't have a house....not yet. I'm just going to stay at her house whenever I'm in LA, and I'm going to buy a nice house here in London. I don't see the point of buying two houses right now. I like spending time with her, it's truly like being with a sister. And, luckily she lives alone and enjoys my company as well. It's a great plan. - I can't wait to meet her.- he told you with a smile. - I do. She always has had a crush on you, since The Tudors, so I'm afraid she might try to steal you from me - you jocked and laughed; Henry laughed as well. - Really? - he asked surprised - Are you surprised that a woman finds you incredibly attractive? - you asked amused and he grinned and blushed a little bit. You ate breakfast as slowly as you could to be able to spend your last moments with Henry before leaving, but unfortunately, you knew it was time to go. You grabbed your package and went to the door. Henry wanted to take you to the airport, but you insisted on going on a taxi. You didn't know exactly if the plane was going to leave on time and might be hours on the airport before the plane takes off and he had to be on horse training in a few hours and you didn't want him to leave job duties aside just for you. He was not happy but finally agreed to call you a taxi instead. You hugged him tight, but not as tight as he held you. You were going to miss being wrapped around those strong arms. Then he held your hand, kissed it and kissed you on the lips. "I'll be back soon. I promise" you said "I know...I know" he replied sadly. You let go of his hand and try to turn around to leave but Henry was still holding your hand. You looked at his puppy face with a "please" look and he sighed and released your hand. You gave your best Schwarzenegger in Terminator impression and said "I'll be back" which made Henry laughed and you felt a little better. Luckily the plane took off at the time that was supposed to and everything went as planned. Beth was waiting for me at the LAX airport. As you made your way to her car, a guy with a camera approached you and started to ask you questions about your breakup. You rarely forgot faces so you immediately recognize the man and knew he worked for TMZ. You limit yourself to answer two things: "I'm great, actually" and "I haven't and I don't intend to do it either" when you were asked if you had spoken to Jared since your two split up. You finally felt relax once you made it to Beth's house. You already had your room in her place, where it used to be the guest bedroom. You left your suitcases and handbag and grabbed your phone from your pocket to text Henry. It was 10 pm London time and Henry had been up since pretty early that morning and had to be on set the next day, so you decided to wait until the next day to let him know that your plane arrived safely and that you were ok. You spend a few hours catching up with your best friend about your entire trip to London and gave her the news about moving to London. You decided early on not to tell her over the phone, because it felt like something more serious that deserved a face to face conversation. To your surprise, she took it well. You two had been close for more than a decade and living in different countries was something hard to imagine. But she also knew you as no other person did. She understood perfectly how much you needed that change in your life and how toxic the place was for you and she couldn't blame you. She told you that she'd had moved with you there if it wasn't for her band -she was the lead guitar on an alternative rock band and thankfully they were successful-. After you finished eating the delicious scons that Henry made you went to take a bath. It felt wonderful to be cover in warm water and just rest your head on the edge of the bathtub and relax. You heard your phone ringing and reached it and carefully so it wouldn't fall into the water you looked up at the screen and saw Henry's name, you picked up immediately. - Hi! - he greeted you as soon as you answered - Hi Hen! I was going to text you earlier but I assume that you were probably sleeping so I decided to wait so I wouldn't wake you up. - you replied - Oh, that's great. That's why I was calling, I...I was worried. I don't want to sound like a controlling dude or anything, but I knew that you were supposed to land about more than three hours ago, so I got scared that something bad might had happened. Sorry, again, just wanted to make sure you were ok. I tried to sleep, but I was to worried.- he confessed and sighed. -Forgive me! I've should have texted you anyway. - you apologized - There's no need for apologies and yes, always text me to let me know you're alright, no matter the time. - I promise you. And you too, when it's your turn to fly away from me, ok? - Ok - he agreed. - What are you doing? I miss you and Kal too. - I miss my boys too. I'm taking a bath right now and after that, I'll probably I'm going to bed because I'm exhausted. It's been a long day. - You know that you're punishing me right now? -he objected - Why? - You're giving the mental picture of you, on a bathtub, naked while I'm not just in a different country, but a different continent. That's harsh woman. -he said and the last words sounded a little high pitched, which made you laughed out loud. He joined your laugh. -Sorry. I'll make it up as soon as I see you again.- you assure him. - What are you doing right now? - I'm talking to you on the phone - he replied in a playful tone - Haha, pretty funny sir. Not seriously. - I'm lying on the bed with Kal. -He made a slight pause and then continued - Honestly? I spend most of the day reliving the last few days in my head and thinking how wonderful they were...how amazing you are and how much I like you. And also I was thinking about last night - he laughed, but you knew that was not a "this is funny" laugh, but a "this is awkward" laugh.- Last night was amazing. I've never done anything like that before. I really enjoyed it. Thank you.- You smiled. He was the cutest thing in this world. - You don't need to thank me. I didn't do it just for you. I enjoyed too. And you were amazing as well. It might have been my idea, but it happened because we both wanted to. I'm surprised that you never have done it before. Do you mean the Bond thing or roleplaying? - Both. -Seriously? Wow. - you were shocked and soon enough you realized why probably he had never done it before. Clearly, he tended to be the dominant part by also is quite shy and probably thought it would look weird to ask his previous partners to roleplay. Or maybe he did it at some point and someone said no and he never tried again. That sounded like something he would do.- As long as we are together, I'll always be open to experiences. I think it's fun to try new things. It worked out great for me with London. And especially going to a birthday party of a person who I didn't know...if it wasn't for that, we wouldn't have met. -That's true. -he paused before speaking- Do you want to know something? I was not going to go to that party that night. I was tired I just wanted to take a Guinness and watch some tv next to my buddy, but Edgar and other friend convince me to go. -It's a lovely coincidence- you said and couldn't hold your smile. - Yeah. - Baby, you should rest. In a few hours you have to be on the set, right?- you questioned and for a minute only heard his breath on the other side, "he's probably asleep already" you thought. - No, I have to be tomorrow at midday. I'm only shooting two scenes tomorrow. In two days I have to start to be early in the morning. - he explained. - Oh, I see. I thought that you were already asleep since you didn't answer me. -No. I...I was processing the fact that you called me "baby".-he said, he sounded like if he was proud of that. -Did you not like it? -I love it, baby. - he replied and your heart melted.- I should probably try to see if I can sleep for a few hours. We'll talk tomorrow, ok baby? - Yes, baby, good night! Sweet dreams! - They'd be sweet dreams only if you're in them. Good night and sleep well!- he finished.

[rethesun]

Is there a name for middle lane larries?

Topic: An opinion on larry

I think there is substantial compelling evidence, but I'm not 100% convinced that there is still something but it’s possible there is we just don’t see.

If someone calls me a larrie, it's not insulting at all, but if someone were to call me an anti i’d be sad, honestly. Below I say many things that make it seem like I negatively judge hardcore larries, but I don't. I find it extraordinary that people can be so brave and sure of themselves, and I wish I could be too. I tend to get along with larries, while I mostly avoid antis unless they manage to be respectful, which is unfortunately quite rare. 

I think it's practically effortless to get toxic when trying to prove or disprove things. I think it's dehumanizing and feels stressful to me as a fan. Therefore I can only imagine the difficulty and what it takes for people in a position of fame to get to a place of inner strength and resilience where the millions of opinions of the world don't affect them as much. It's sometimes hard to judge/differentiate what is and isn't disrespectful, and it hurts terribly to know I'm crossing boundaries. So I'm putting my opinion together in hopes it isn't as counterproductive or pointless as it feels.

I'm not at all trying to convince anyone of a narrative to sway people to believe or not believe. What and how much you know and where you "stand" is down to you. 

Do I believe in larry? 

First and foremost, being a fan of someone means supporting that person without expecting anything from them. It means any fan theory isn't crucial. What’s important is just supporting them as is, as an individual. It means caring about how the person may feel about things more than caring about how I feel about things that aren't my business in the first place. 

That said, here is my not long-awaited opinion.

I think there is substantial compelling evidence, but I'm not 100% convinced that there is still something but it’s possible there is we just don’t see. I will not disregard what Harry and Louis said back in the day and pretend they had nothing when at the very least, Harry said it on video directly twice. Yes, he was a kid, but people will decide Harry is with a skinny blonde woman older than him for much less, so I don't take what he said as a platonic joke. However, I try to be as realistic as possible. As an outsider, it's not easy for my brain to conclude on most things. However, this doesn't mean I disregard how bad the industry can be. One big reason is that I don't know any of these people personally, and I want to believe in the best in others. Even though I understand controlling narratives in the industry happens and happened to 1D. I don't know to what extent. It's hard for me to judge that any or all of Harry's "relationships" are fake, and thus, he's had a few "stunt" songs for those relationships, etc. It’s plausible that he wrote female pronouns on a song or a few and the song refers to a man/men but that's far from saying this is a stunt song which would imply an entire fake relationship which is too far for me to say wasn't real as I am just an outsider. 

Whether people say it's the fans who say it or the boys behavior, the statement, 'larries ruined their friendship,' is sometimes interpreted as centered around homophobia. I do not see it this way.

However, whether there was or is a relationship, it's entirely reasonable to consider, the circumstances as a whole hurt them and likely the rest of the band in multiple ways that made things really hard. I do not think fans ruined the band or their connections with each other. I think being overworked with little freedom or breaks to discover/express independence were just a few reasons why.

Why I think larry appeared to become distanced to the public eye: 1. Understandably, putting blame on the heteronormative gender restrictive times we were in and still are in. 2. How some fans react to Larry's interactions due to reason number one. Otherwise, all the 1D members, their families, and friends have been honest. That would mean there isn't an elaborate conspiracy; they are just tired of people messing with who they care about and want to live without the harassment. Regardless of whether some fan theories are accurate or not, people in the spotlight and their families deserve peace of mind. They don't deserve to be dehumanized. I wish some fans would understand how wrong it is to swarm people or ask strangers to confirm any personal things. Not only because it's rude and invasive but because of mental health. If that's confusing, imagine if it were you in their position.

I used Zayn's interview because he shared it eloquently while the other mentions that ‘Larry isn't real’ were mostly screen captures of constituents replying impatiently to larry comments on social media saying the Larry thing is delusion and not what real fans do.  Zayn in this 2015 fader interview. "There's no secret relationships going on with any of the band members," he explains. "It's not funny, and it still continues to be quite hard for them. They won't naturally go put their arm around each other because they're conscious of this thing that's going on, which is not even true. They won't do the natural behavior." He goes on to add to the statement, "But it's just the way the fans are. They're so passionate, and once they get their head around an idea, that's the way it is regardless of anything. If it wasn't for the passionate, like almost obsession, then we wouldn't have the success that we have." Before the subject changes, Zayn said that fans would find a way to water down what he said and make any excuses, e.g., that he couldn't speak the truth.

I can't speak for anyone but myself. (I’m a queer cis female) I don't think I would want to 'get dragged through a round of 'coming out' press. Why should sexuality be treated as an oddity by the median, and why should queer people have to subject themselves to that treatment?' The amount of coming out stories and things that could follow a person, or the people around, in the aftermath, would be atrocious. People, personally and professionally, may treat you differently after. The queer stereotypes would be exhausting. Also, it's not always as safe sometimes to be out. Whether there was/is a relationship at all between 1D members. “Being open to everyone isn't easy. Now imagine yourself no less human than right now, but add millions of eyes on you. It's insensitive to assume about someone when they could be doing their best/what is comfortable—please let's stop invalidating what we don't understand.”

Zayn's career connects to Hollywood, and he’s in the spotlight so it's not easy to suddenly believe everything I hear and see is the truth just because someone like him said it. However, at the same time, it's rather discomforting for me to disregard and look into everything people like Zayn or his constituents say. I want to believe the best in people and sympathize and “back him up” in a sense. It's also way to hard to believe all things other fans say because we are passionate and obsessed, so there is confirmation bias. 

Do I concretely believe anything? 

Yes, but those things don't directly confirm or deny anything especially Larry.

I believe the boys were responsible for RBB & SBB.

I have some reason to believe the song Carolina could be about experimentation with drugs since Johnny Cash's Cocaine-Carolina song is plausibly similar. Also, it's not uncommon if you're wealthy or famous to experiment with drugs, including harmful drugs; the environment can make it more accessible and normalized. I don't condone drug abuse; I hope Harry is wise enough not to make it a reoccurring thing. I want him naturally happy and healthy, but it's not my life, and I don't know him to have any right in making that call. I trust from Harry's character and what he said in his Zane Lowe interview that he knows better. However, the song Carolina might be about Townes or maybe it's both, I have no clue. 

I believe SOTT is about "fundamentals" like Harry said it is, not just from the perspective of 'a mother telling the child to go forth and conquer.' I notice some people readily look over the childbirth story, saying 'it makes no sense,' but it can easily coincide with fundamentals, "Equal rights for everyone, all races sexes, everything." Check out this in depth lyric analysis?

I think most of us know and support that Harry is a proud member of the community. If he wasn’t he’d just say that. 

I think maybe COAC and SOTT may have been collaborative. There are multiple writers on both songs and if it’s possible to have a ghost writer then I say it's plausible they chose to write them similarly. 

I think Louis possibly queer codes. Straight people don’t queer code so you might think it’s queer baiting but I don’t think someone sick of gay rumors would go that route. Either that, or he's a passionate and sympathetic ally.

However, Louis is still "with" E. From a perspective of committed fans, it doesn't look like a sincere relationship. As an outsider, again, it feels far too presumptuous for me to have a B&W opinion.

It seems that adults with somewhat official platforms let rumors run rampant, and not many grown adults of the time seemed to correct or silence it. I should have said this early and cannot stress this enough, ANYONE who is not the Louis Tomlinson or in his family tree is in no way an official source. If they're acting like they know things (not just reporting on what's happening), they were/are either trolling or want people to freak out for clout. Being led astray by people looking to capitalize on fans is always a danger. It's insensitive, inappropriate, and unprofessional, but it happened. I am surprised by that and that 1D's management didn't try to protect Louis and his image more. I’m not an insider able to judge him negatively or to overanalyze the situation. So I won't assume he's not a dad, and I hope he's doing well.

(About the above paragraph about Louis this is an update after the original post I made to say I don't have a further developed opinion because I never looked into it and don't know if I will so don't hold that against me please I just personally don't feel like it’s a thing I need to do and I know larries don’t appreciate when non-larries make comments on things without thoroughly looking into things so you won’t see a further opinion from me or judgment unless I do actual research)

In conclusion, and to reiterate, I feel like there is some truth to some things. Again, it feels disrespectful or too presumptuous for me to have many opinions, especially of the negative kind, as an outsider. I don't know any of these people personally, and I want to believe in the best in others. I am not harshly judging things because I don't have a complete story or the right to. However, this doesn't mean I disregard how bad the industry can be to people in multiple ways.

As fans, we can do much better. It's not unreasonable to wish people didn't constantly objectify/sexualize people with fame and didn't harass them/their families about fan theories. Also, always wanting something from these people and expecting them to fulfill god-like expectations as if they don't go through the same human experience and aren't completely flawed like the rest of us, or stalking them—something sick and a behavior that's saddening and disgusting. Real fans just leave them be to live their lives. Please call out stalking and discourage it if you notice it. Overall, I think we can all be a bit more respectful and understanding or try to make an effort. I'm not a superfan, but I'd like to be genuine and not a reason why these people dislike being in the spotlight. I feel like that means being as grounded, realistic, and sensitive about how these people may feel about things more than caring about how I feel about things that aren't my business in the first place. It ultimately means any fan theory isn't crucial. What’s important is just supporting them as is, as individual.

[#’s are for exposure and may not correlate]

[thecandywrites]

Jewel Of The North Part 3

Aaah, we’re getting closer. Also this is fantasy, let’s pretend pallas cats are thunder cats and that they can be tamed. Also Scottish wild cats are a thing too. They can be thunder cats too. 

Again major thanks to @monstersandmaw​ for sharing ice orcs with me. 

Jewel of the North 

Part 3

You found yourself getting up at 4:30 and quickly got a shower and got ready as the sun was coming up and by 5 am, you were itching to leave and decided to just go and practically speed walked to Noah’s house in the misty dawn, only to find Sakura and Noah sitting on the front porch, wrapped in blankets as Noah looked particularly tired as he downed his coffee as two snow dogs laid on the porch, trying to get some sleep before they heard your approach and sat up and stared at you before they got up and slowly wagged their tails but didn’t make a sound. 

“Paradise!” Sakura squealed when she saw you as she instantly got up and ran to you as you laughed at the name as you caught her and picked her up and kissed her cheek as the dogs came running over to you too. 

“Well good morning to you too Munchkin!” You greeted happily before you carried her back to the house and cooed to the dogs who seemed happy and excited to see you too and sniffed at you eagerly and barked and ‘greeted’ you too in their own way. 

“What are you doing up so early?” You asked her. 

“I didn’t want to miss you coming!” She insisted. 

“Aw,” you cooed. “How long have you been up?” You asked her. 

“Since 4:30- she woke up bright eyed and bushy tailed.” Noah answered as he slowly got up out of his deck chair and grabbed his daughter’s blanket she left behind in her chair before he put it over her and you. 

“Oh that’s better, it’s chilly this morning.” You insisted as you curled into the warmth of the blanket as you followed him into the house, grateful he held the door open for you. Thankfully he had already made breakfast which you happily started eating with them as the dogs instantly put their heads in your lap, wanting pets, acting like they never got pets or any kind of attention ever. Typical. 

“So are you going to teach me how to be an heiress today?” Sakura asked eagerly and Noah nearly choked on his coffee. 

“Probably not because I wanted to talk to your dad about that first .” You put to her before you turned to Noah. 

“First I wanted to reassure you that whatever she tells me or whatever you tell me, I will keep in strict confidence and won’t be repeated to anyone unless I have your express and freely given consent to do so. Because honestly- the only people I would ever want to be telling anything to would be professionals, mostly very experienced lawyers and I will not do so unless I had your express permission to do it and I will not discuss anything of a private or sensitive nature unless it was in your presence as well. Second, I understand how I’m the outsider and honestly and realistically- you don’t know me from anyone and I completely understand if you’re uncomfortable with this and I’m not offended if you don’t want to involve me in anything sensitive, private or especially financial. If all you are comfortable with me doing is being here and watching her and being a babysitter, that’s fine with me, if you just want me to be a friend, I’ll just be a friend, if you want me to be an advisor, I’ll be an advisor. But only if you want me to be. You need to have your own boundaries for me and I’ll do my best to respect any and all boundaries given as long as those boundaries are clearly and expressly stated so there’s no confusion and no gray areas. I can not read your mind so if I cross a line, or if I have already crossed a line, please tell me as quickly as possible.” You insisted. 

“Oh, no you haven’t crossed any lines at all, you’re good.” Noah readily assured you. 

“Ok, good, I want us to stay on good terms and clear communication is the best way to achieve that.” You offered which earned a nod of agreement from Noah. 

“So moving forward- if you do end up wanting my advice, I can be as specific or as generic as you want me to be. But I will not give unwanted advice and I will not involve myself without your permission and I would want to make sure that my involvement is welcome by especially Neena’s parents and perhaps your own since it’s obvious they all still play an active role in her life because moving forward, if you’re going to continue to rely on them for support, it’s best to have everyone on the same page and even though you are her sole parent and guardian and the responsibility for her rests solely on your shoulders- I know I appreciated having more than my own eyes and mind on a problem- the whole- two heads are better than one principle, but at the same time we don’t want to involve anyone who doesn’t need to be involved because of the other principal of having too many cooks in the kitchen as we need to find a balance between the two.” You suggested. 

“I completely agree.” Noah nodded again in agreement with a fond smile. 

“Well, speaking from experience, I have had unwanted advice crammed down my throat more times than I can count and I hated it and I’m not going to do that to you guys. And if you do want my advice, please know that I will be honest and transparent about it and the only thing I want to gain from any of it- is the assurance and reassurance that you and Sakura are going to be ok and taken care of and if I can pass on the lessons I learned so that you don’t have to go through what I went through to learn them- I’ll be content.” You explained as Noah’s eyebrows knitted closer together for a moment at your choice of words. 

“Do you mind if I ask how you became an heiress?” Noah asked carefully. 

“I don’t mind at all, so what happened was I befriended about a dozen older couples when I went to massage school a decade ago and at the time they were all retirement age and they never had any kids, or the ones who did, their kids had passed before they did and they didn’t have any other natural heirs, no kids or grandkids or anything like that and they all practically adopted me because I took care of them the way I would take care of my own grandparents and I just tend to adopt grandparents in general and kids obviously.” You gestured to Sakura who was sitting next to you at the kitchen table. 

“Anyway, about two to three years before Andy died, most of them lost their partners and, again, none of them had kids to take care of them so I felt it was my responsibility as their friend to care for them because if I didn’t, no one else would and none of them were bad enough that they needed to go into a nursing home and I did all I could to keep them as independent as possible which is what they needed and what was best for them in those circumstances. So when Andy did die, the remaining ones were there for me to help me cope with his loss and how to protect myself and how to protect my kids and how to use what Andy left me in life insurance policies best and I took their advice and used it and benefited and then when they passed a few months later, and they all passed within the span of a week which was unreal - so it was just all one big funeral for me and I found out that all of them individually- left everything to me and none of them used the same lawyers or anything so there was no way for me or any of them to know that the others were doing the same thing since going into that ordeal I had only known that one of them were going to leave me anything and what they were leaving me was very modest in all respects. But within the span of another week after that in settling their final affiars which is when I found out I became inheriter to 15 different estates , it was really weird and I was investigated because the sheer coincidence of it seemed odd to everyone, most of all- me, and because there wasn’t any other parties coming forward trying to claim anything and because the only role I had in their passing was that I helped relieve pain and suffering and didn’t actually murder anyone, I got to keep it all and for a whole week after the deaths, I literally just kept going from each house and just cleaning out the fridges and freezers because I had already taken all their pets home with me, so now I have a freaking menagerie at home because I love and adore all of the pets and didn’t have the heart to take them to a shelter because most of them were old anyways and they should live out the rest of their lives in comfort and peace like their owners, and it’s obvious that your precious babies have picked up on that.” You explained as you turned your adoring attentions back to his dogs who were soaking up your attentions happily.  

“So what about the wolves and vultures?” Sakura asked. 

“Oh boy, well, that’s figurative, I’ve had to deal with figurative wolves and vultures in that people have tried to take advantage of me and think that because I was a woman who didn’t have any experience with managing estates and money and property that they could come in and take it from me the way a vulture will try to take a carcass from another or how they’ll prey on an injured animal and wait for it to die or how wolves will surround their target and overpower it, the same thing happened to me and it’s awful.” You answered. 

“How?” Sakura asked curiously. 

“Well, while the rest of my adopted grandparents were dying and I was inheriting all those estates, the company Andy had worked for- sued the manufacturer of the crystal grower that malfunctioned and killed him at work and because I was- and I quote- “the prettiest of the widows” his company paid me a ridiculous sum of money and other benefits to be the public face of the lawsuit even though there were five widows and widowers involved but it was my face that was crying in a courtroom that sold the story in the news and got the jury to sympathize and his company used my sob story, leaving out the fact that I was also an heiress for all these other estates- for their benefit and won the case in court- but because of my adopted grandparents who had amazing lawyers, who then became my lawyers, they made sure I got the lion’s share of the settlement because it was my face and my life that was put in the public eye for a hot minute and because of my own exposure, suddenly I had dozens of organizations and charities contact me too but because the settlement was so big, my biggest priority was making sure the other widows and widowers got a fair share and that they and their families were also taken care of because they didn’t have good lawyers like I did. So I used what little power and control I had in that situation to benefit them too because corportate greed is second to none.” You revealed. 

“Oh good grief.” Noah huffed. 

“Yeah, it wasn’t fun. The absolute worst part about it were just the figurative vultures and wolves. All these men came out of the woodwork after the court win because it was in the news- all of them thinking I was this ‘poor, inexperienced, stupid widow’ who practically won the lottery because the settlement was the same size as a small lottery and thought that I had gotten all of the settlement which wasn’t true or thought that I didn’t have any sense or propriety and thought that because I was young and inexperienced, they could take advantage of me which backfired on them spectacularly. Especially since I have clients on the local police force, fire department and other first responders who had been friends of mine before all this went down and who saw me through all of it and the moment any guy crossed that line of getting too close to me or especially my kids, who before any of this happened, I was already an overprotective Mama Bear anyway and through this whole ordeal, I just grew bigger claws and fangs and one hell of a bite and swing,” You gestured, making your hand clawed and swiping at the air which got Noah to grin appreciatively. 

“Anyway so if they got too close, they got the boot and a restraining order, I currently have over two dozen restraining orders against creepy vulture slash wolf tipes and I have gotten really good at spotting them from a mile away. I was already good at reading people and getting a sense of them because I’m an empath, it’s what I naturally do best, but now it’s basically a super power.” You chuckled before you continued to eat your breakfast. 

“And despite all that, you’re still... just a normal, down to earth mom.” Noah praised which made your smile bloom even brighter. 

“I try really hard not to let my past experiences change who I am too much because at the end of the day, what you just said is all I want to be. I used to be an easily trusting, very carefree, easy going and down to earth kind of person and I always reserved my judgement of people until I saw by their words and most importantly their actions- what kind of person they were and reacted accordingly I’ve always done my best to be a kind, generous and hospitable and caring person and I don’t want what has happened to me to change those parts of me that I like the most and that I’ve worked hard to cultivate despite how vicious and cold the rest of the world can be and just because I have suffered, doesn’t mean I should add to anyone else’s suffering and I don’t want greed or the love of money to corrupt me, I want to use it as the tool it is to build up instead of a precious finite resource that should be hoarded whenever encountered. A good person is a good person no matter how much money they have, and there’s a saying in the south about ‘acting too big for your britches’ that my parents and my inlaws are really good at calling me out on and at the time, I didn’t like it but after I thought about it, I realized they were right and I’m still humble enough to accept their council and we all need someone in our lives to bring us to our senses and remind us to keep it real.” You revealed as Noah smiled and nodded his approval to those sentiments. 

“Which is why I, for better or worse tried dating again, and why the few dates have been really casual. Two of them had no idea about my past with the inheritances or the court case or anything like that. All they knew about me was that I was a widow, a single mom of two, that I own my own massage business that I run out of my house and that’s it and that’s all they needed to know about me. I had two dates at a trampoline park that I take my kids to a lot and we met, sat in side by side massage chairs and chatted while our kids played. That’s literally all that happened and in talking to them, while they were nice and friendly, I just didn’t connect with them. And because of my past, my walls are already pretty high and thick and most guys just assume it’s because my late husband was abusive, which- he wasn’t, but they just assume I’m more trouble than I’m worth and leave me alone in peace which is all I can ask for from them.” You explained. 

“Although. There was a third guy that I’m pretty sure he found out about my financial past mid date because we were out to dinner, everything was going ok, the kids are getting along and him and I are having the ‘expectations’ talk about what we’re looking for a in a partner, what we’re not looking for, what our turn offs are and the more I talk I can see it in his eyes that he’s losing interest because he walked into the date thinking he can just move right on in, instant perfect family, his partner would have “a little hobby side business”,” You waived off dismissively, scrunching your nose as your tone grew sarcastically condescending which got Sakura to giggle and Noah to chuckle. “Which I get a lot, people who undervalue or underestimate it and it’s not my job to prove its validity, I let the work speak for itself, anyway- so he thought all he would have to do is go to work and provide and to hear that- that’s not exactly how things were going to work with me- he’s clearly not interested anymore and he withdraws which is fine because the more he talked, the more I didn’t like him either because if he can’t respect me and my profession, I don’t have to respect him in turn but I have manners so I stay pleasant, especially since kids are present and there’s never a reason to be rude or mean to a child. So he gets up to go to the bathroom, and he’s gone for like 30 minutes, like long enough that I start to worry he just dropped his kids off on me and ran and I’m talking to the kids trying to figure out if I need to be calling their mother to come pick them up or cramming them all into my car or what and then he comes back and it’s instantly a whole new version of him that I’m having dinner with- he comes swaggering back to the table with a bottle of the most expensive wine the Olive Gardens had and the difference in attitude, opinions and outlooks were night and day- like he had schizophrenia and I just had dinner with a different version of him and he’s all smiles and charm and talking about how all the ways he can support me in “my calling” and how ‘all he’s wanted is to be a stay at home dad and how “honorable” staying home and taking care of kids really is and taking extra care in raising and educating kids and taking care of animals is his life’s ambition’ when half an hour ago- he admitted that he never even once changed a poopy diaper and all domestic activities were what he got married for so he didn’t have to do them and that he never let his kids have indoor pets because they shed and make a mess and are more trouble than they're worth and at this point all of his kids are looking at him like he’s grown a second and third head and I put two and two together pretty quick that he got wind of my financials and he absolutely insisted he pay for everyone’s dinner when before we had agreed that we’d be paying separately and for the next week he was calling me at least three times a day trying to get another date which I always ignored his calls so he left the most ridiculous voicemails ‘how our kids really “clicked”,’ and ‘how beautiful I was’ and ‘what an amazing and accomplished woman I was’ and how he ‘needed me in his life’ and how ‘we need to hang out and go do stuff’ and even offered to take me and my family to Cedar Points for a whole weekend getaway and get a suite and so with some courage, I finally called him back and I just had to be very honest with him and tell him under no uncertain terms that none of those things were going to happen and to lose my number because I was not interested and I called him out on his behavior and point blank demanded why he had such a sudden change of heart and demanded to know why he was calling me so much and he tried to play it off but when I didn’t buy it and tried to tell him to go take a hike- he pushed back saying I owed him money for him buying me and my ‘ungrateful brats’ dinner that’s when I involved my friends with law enforcement because he got real nasty real quick and after that I took a break and that was a month and a half ago and I’ve just been doing my best to be patient and wait for the right guy with the right circumstances and the right personality and the right morals and values to come along and just...give me kindness, and sympathy, empathy and understanding and just..love me for me for me, with all my flaws and shortcomings without thinking that my bank account makes up for any of them or who won’t look at my bank account and think he’s expected to match it. Honestly I’m more scared that the right guy will take one look at my bank account and get scared off or think he’s not good enough because he’s humble or he came from a humble background like I did or think that all rich people are bad selfish people because that’s not true.” You confessed and realized that Noah wasn’t really talking but he was giving you the most interesting look. Like he was thinking very deeply about what you were saying before his phone started to ring. 

“Oh, sorry, you should get going to work, sorry if I kept you.” You apologized but he waived you off as he listened to who was on the other end of the phone and got up from the table. 

“Yeah, I’ll see you in a bit.” He bid them before he stopped and kissed Sakura goodbye before he, out of habit- kissed the crown of your head as he passed you before he had to pause after the fact and stood up straight as a board as Sakura giggled gleefully as your cheeks were bright kashmir sapphire blue along with your ears as you couldn’t help but giggle yourself because that was the most precious thing he could have done in that moment. 

“Uhh, sorry?” He apologized as his own cheeks were a deep midnight along with the tips of his ears. 

“Don’t apologize, it’s ok, I take it you used to do that a lot with Neena, old habits die hard, I don’t mind one bit, if anything I’m very flattered and honored, you’re good, we’re good.” You reassured him with a bright happy smile. 

“Thanks,” Noah ducked his head sheepishly before he continued on his way and ran his hand down his face. 

“Fuck.” He breathed once he got in his truck and started it and drove away. 

“Actually Zara, I wasn’t thinking of Neena at all when I kissed you, I just did it because it felt like the most normal, natural thing to do with you looking like an absolute vision sitting at my table at 5 in the morning eating pancakes with my daughter and I- and the way you are with her is all I could have ever wanted and dreamed of and I’ve also been praying to the gods for patience while I wait for the right woman with the right heart condition and the right values and morals to come along and love her and me and you’re exactly what I’ve been praying for and I’m scared shitless because you are so much more than I could have ever dreamed of and you just radiate warmth and love and Sakura already loves you and I’m hopelessly head over heels, over the moon- crazy about you and I haven’t been sleeping well because every time I close my eyes, I see your face and because of that,  I’m just constantly horny with you on my mind and I haven’t had sex with a woman since Neena and burying myself to the hilt in you is now my number 1 fantasy since I met you two days ago and I just want to kiss you every time I see you because I’m attracted to you and I can’t do that because you don’t know me even though it feels like I’ve known you for forever and this is crazy and I don’t know how this is going to work at all and I’m ready to just up and sell everything I own and follow you home like a lost puppy but I don’t know if you’ll let me and I’m stuck and the more you talk, the more I find out about you, the more I find to like and love about you and I’m in way over my head and I’m praying to the gods, every day to reveal to me the best path to take with you but I don’t know where to start.” Noah ranted to himself as he drove down to the airfield. 

Meanwhile back at Noah’s house. 

“Did your dad used to kiss your mama a lot before he left for work?” You asked Sakura. 

“Yup, and every time he left for work, she would pray to all the gods for fair winds and for him to have safe flights and return home to us.” She informed you proudly. 

“Could we do that? I feel like we should do the same, it’s a tradition we need to keep going.” You proposed as she eagerly got up and took your hand and brought you to the wall in the living room where a few stone symbols- symbolizing the gods they worshiped- hung on the wall-- you also had the same at your own house, a couple of them you recognized but you didn’t know the others. Then she got her prayer rug out from under the couch and got her mom’s old one and got it out and put in down for you to kneel on too which you did, copying her movements. 

“We always prayed in Intuck though.” She sighed. 

“Well, I don’t know any Intuck- but if you say the words first, I will do my best to repeat them, could you help me learn? Because the best way to learn something is to teach someone else and I know Intuck is a big part of your heritage and we should honor that and use it as much as we can.” You asked her as she nodded eagerly before she carefully and slowly and deliberately said the words as you did your best to repeat them exactly or as closely as you could and kept looking at her to make sure you were saying these words right. 

“You did really good! Not one mistake!” She cheered. 

“Thank you, I tried really hard. So what did we just pray for? Can you tell me in Anglo?” You asked her hopefully. 

“Yup, we prayed for Daddy to have good flights in good weather, we prayed for generous customers, we prayed for his plane to fly well and we prayed for him to come home safe.” She told you even though she purposefully left off the last thing. The last thing she had you pray for was for her daddy to come home with more love than he left with and for him to come home to find more love than he left knowing was there, it was an extra prayer her mom prayed for when her mama and her dad had disagreements that they needed to reconcile over but Sakura knew when she hugged you the first time that your hugs and her mom’s hugs were the same. She could feel how much you loved her already just from that one hug was enough to convince her that you were her mom and that her wait for one was over and with you already showing respect to her mama and her mama’s memory and her mother’s native language and culture told her that you were a respectful person who wouldn’t try to change her and her culture, that you would be embracing it with her and she knew that the gods sent you all the way from the Great Lakes, just to be with her. She didn’t know if she would be moving in with you or if you and your family would be moving in with her, but she was going to love having siblings. She felt like looking at you was the same as looking at a new story book, one she didn’t know the story in it yet, but could tell from the pictures that it would be her new favorite and that it would be a happy story and one with the best ending where everyone lived happily ever after. 

“Will I offend you or the gods if I continued to pray my own prayers but in Anglo?” You asked respectfully.

“Nope, the gods listen to all those who genuinely and honestly pray to them, no matter their language.” She insisted. 

“I was taught the same. Ok, do you mind if I pray out loud or should I keep my prayers to myself?” You asked her as she got back on her little prayer mat before you sat down cross legged on yours since your lower legs were killing you sitting on them and you always prayed sitting down cross legged.

“Please pray out loud, I want to hear how you pray.” She answered excitedly. 

“Come here Honey,” You invited her before she happily got into your lap and sat in it and settled against you as you wrapped your arms around her and placed your palms together but upturned.

“Why do you have your hands turned up?” She asked. 

“So that the gods can take all my troubles and anxieties, all my hurt, all my sorrow and pain and give me instead- happiness, peace, serenity, calm and answers to the problems or they can provide the answers themselves and if I’m lost, they can take my hands and lead me to where I need to go and place me where I need to be. So that I can enjoy the day and every moment in the day without my joy and happiness stolen by worry and anxiety or anger. To love and appreciate the people around me and that friends and family who will love me and care for me as much as I love and care for them.” You answered before she did the same, her little hands upturned between your own as you watched as she closed her eyes with a serene smile on her face which brought a bright, appreciative smile to your own before you closed your eyes and took a cleansing breath and addressed not just your own gods but the ones who you had just been introduced to as well. 

“Please oh gods of the heavens above, in the earth with me and in the depths of the sea-, hear my prayer. Please help me to help Sakura and her father Noatak with their troubles, no matter the kind. Help me guide them to the best and most successful path. Help me keep in mind what is best for both Sakura and Noatak and help all my words to be used with grace, kindness, gentleness, wisdom and respect. Please let there be no mistaking my words and intentions. Help me ease their pain and discomfort so that they can embrace the present and enjoy their future while not abandoning the past, but to honor it and those in it. Please grant Sakura, Noatak and my family and myself peace and serenity to accept the things we can not change and should not change, but courage to change the things we can and that need to be changed and to face what we need to face with bravery, perseverance and patience and the wisdom to distinguish between what we can not change and what we can. But to walk with our eyes towards all of you, please direct my steps so that I continue to walk the path you’ve set before me and help me guide others on their paths so that we all can have happiness, peace, meaning, purpose and fulfillment and if at all possible, success. Amen.” You prayed. 

“Amen.” Sakura mirrored emphatically as you noticed the dogs were laying down around you as you curled your hands around hers and squeezed them as she squeezed back and smiled adoringly up at you. 

“That was a really good prayer. I liked it.” Sakura praised. 

“Thank you.” You grinned. 

“So, your Daddy told me that you guys have horses,” you began. 

“We do! We should go feed them breakfast, Daddy forgot to do that before he left!” Sakura realized before you got up and got your jacket on and got Sakura bundled up before she led you to the back where a barn was and horses were sleeping in their stalls but awoke once you opened the barn door as the dogs came trotting into the barn with you before Sakura walked you through what Noah usually did when he cared for them as you happily followed her instructions and even took extra care to brush them, clean out their feet and check them over the way you did with your own horses before you walked them out to the pasture so you could muck out their stalls and tidy things up a bit before your phone rang. 

“Well hello, I take it you’re up in the air.” You mused since you could hear the plane running in the background. 

“Yeah, I was just calling to check in.” Noah said, feeling like an idiot, you were a mom, he knew he could trust you to take care of his child but he was more anxious to know how you were faring, if Sakura was behaving for you and he was desperate for reassurance that everything was ok because he couldn’t ignore the urge to call. 

“We’re doing great. Here, it’s your Daddy,” you offered the phone to Sakura as you continued to muck out the stalls. 

“Daddy! Paradise and I prayed for you in Intuck just like Mama and I used to and the way Nana and I still do and Paradise did so good! She got all the words right and she’s having me teach her Intuck because she says the best way for me to learn and remember it is to teach someone else and it’s true! Then she showed me how she prayed and I got to sit in her lap and pray with her and it was just as nice and now we’re taking care of the horses because you forgot to before you left and she says she has horses too and she’s mucking out their stalls and even cleaned out their feet and brushed them even though it was kind of hard because all they wanted to do was hug her the way they used to hug mom and the dogs are being really good too.” Sakura babbled excitedly as she sat on a bale of hay and talked with her Dad on your phone. 

Meanwhile Noah was scrunching his face because he knew he had forgotten something this morning. 

“Well tell her I said thank you very much for helping me with the horses, I really appreciate it.” He urged her. 

“My Daddy says ‘thank you for helping him and he appreciates it’,” Sakura repeated. 

“Tell him it’s no problem at all, I’m happy to do it but tell him that the blue roan will need a trim soon.” You answered. 

“She said Kabluey needs a trim.” Sakura repeated as you busted out laughing. 

“What’s so funny?” Sakura asked. 

“Kabluey is the name of a variety of blueberries. I grow kablueys at home. I think Kabluey is an amazing name for a blue roan.” You explained.  

“Well hopefully I’ll be able to do it when I get home.” Noah answered. 

“He said he’ll do it when he gets home.” Sakura said. 

“I didn’t realize your Daddy was also a ferrier.” You appraised appreciatively as you imagined what Noah would look like on your farm in a tight pair of jeans bent over trimming your own horses feet, preferably with his shirt off and maybe a shimmering sheen of sweat on him that you could help him shower off. 

Focus Zara. Horse stall. 

“So can Paradise and I go riding later? Please?”  She asked hopefully. 

“If he trusts me to take you on a ride, then I’ll happily do so but if he’s not comfortable with that, then don’t beg him and try to push him when he’s not ready.” You insisted as Noah just smiled wide into the phone as any stress he was feeling melted away. 

“Sweetie, give the phone to Paradise.” He urged her. 

“Yes?” you answered. 

“You have my permission to do whatever you want to do. I trust you completely.” Noah insisted. 

“You sure?” You questioned. 

“Absolutely. You girls have fun today, do whatever you want to do.”  Noah urged you and you both heard and felt his genuineness and earnestness in that. 

“Ok.” You agreed. “Is there anything in particular you want us to do today? Laundry, dishes? Not burn the house down?” You asked and Noah barked an amused laugh. 

“Yeah, just that last one.” Noah.

“Dinner?” You asked hopefully.

“Only if you want to, this is your vacation after all.” Noah tried to dissuade you but his tone was incredibly weak because honestly food from you would be food from the gods at this point. 

“Oh I definitely want to.” You firmly resolved. Oh you were going to woo him with food damn it. 

“Well honestly there’s some grocery shopping I need to do, there should be a list on the fridge, if you go, keep your receipts and I’ll pay you back for whatever.” Noah revealed. 

“Is there a budget you want me to try to keep?” You asked thoughtfully. 

“Well that’s the thing, grocery shopping is really expensive up here, it’s gonna be about a hundred dollars.” He warned you. 

“Yeah that’s not going to be a problem.” You reassured him. Oh you were going to hook him up. 

“Any food allergies I should be aware of? Nuts? Dairy?” You asked. 

“Nope. Although if you can find a way to make vegetables slightly more appealing to Sakura I’ll be forever grateful.” Noah hinted. 

“Awesome, and between what times should we expect you home? Like between 6-7 or 7-8?” You asked.

“Honestly I don’t know at this point, right now it looks like I’ll be home by 5-5:30 but that could change several times between now and then, but I shouldn’t be home any later than 8.” He mused. 

“Ok, do you have any preferences or any foods that you’re not allergic to but you’d rather eat cardboard than eat it? Like mushrooms? Peppers? Broccoli?” You began to list off. 

“Ok, I’ll level with you, Sakura isn’t the only one who doesn’t like her vegetables, and I feel like the reason for that is because I’m not particularly good at making them.” He confessed which got  you to laugh. 

“I appreciate your honesty. None of us are perfect. Are we usually meat and potatoes kind of people?” You gently teased. 

“Yup.” Noah nodded. 

“Ok, I’ll see what I can do, keep me posted Babe.” You offered before you slapped your hand over your mouth as Sakura cackled with glee. Her prayers were working already! And the sound of Noah laughing told you that he was at least amused. 

“Habit?” He asked. 

“Yup.” You lied because that was easier than fessing up that you were falling helplessly, hopelessly head over heels for him. You were fucked. 

“It’s ok, we’re ok, you’re good.” Noah reassured you. 

“Thank you, see you at home later. Fly safe.” You urged him. 

“Will do, see you later, bye.” Noah bid you and felt twice as high as he was. You called him a pet name. He didn’t care if it was on accident, that was heavenly. Today was going to be a great day. 

Once you were done in the barn you had Sakura come back into the house so you could clean up from breakfast and get a look at that grocery list before there was a scratch at the window and you saw a massive thunder cat at the kitchen window before it meowed at you as it looked expectantly at you. 

“Is..this cat yours?” You asked before Sakura eagerly rushed to the back porch where a trio of cats were from having gotten out of the house when Noah and Sakura had initially been in the porch waiting for you this morning. One of them was clearly a thunder cat, the others, were two of the biggest tom cats you’ve ever seen in your life and all three eagerly came into the house and rubbed against Sakura before all three came over to check you out before the thunder cat outright climbed you like a tree. 

“Claws,” you whimpered as you braced against the counter before it happily got to your shoulder to look you over and sniff you before it started rubbing it’s face on your face. 

“Well hello to you too.” You greeted happily before it outright laid down over your shoulders. 

“Comfy there?” You gently teased as you scratched his ears as it started to purr very loudly in your ears before you continued to have Sakura go through the cupboards and showed you and told you what they had food wise as you made your own grocery list as you went through the freezer and fridge to see what he had and what he needed as recipes started popping like fireworks in your head of what you wanted to cook as you made notes of what dishes he had and what you wanted in each dish. You wanted to go all out. Not just the classics and tried and true but take a leap of faith on something else as you suddenly realized- your second trunk. YES. 

Whenever you traveled you packed one set in one thing and another set in something else. Just in case either the airline, the cruise ship or whatever lost a piece of luggage, you weren’t screwed. You had packed two sets of spices and other staple ingredients. And both cases made it. In fact, not a piece of luggage had gone missing. You were going to try to sneak it in with the clan’s gift of seeds. Now- you were going give it to Noah and you couldn’t imagine a more deserving recipient or a more appreciative one. Then you went though the rest of the house, hunting to see if he needed laundry supplies or other cleaning supplies and jot those down. 

Passing by Noah’s bedroom, you practically stopped in your tracks as your nose led you to turn your head as you sniffed in a deep lungful. His scent was so strong and so alluring there and it made your mouth water. You noticed some laundry and got a basket and gathered it before you picked up a pair of socks by the bed and upon picking up both socks- they squished in your hand and you did your best to stifle your laughter and one sniff confirmed your suspicion. It felt really “fresh”, maybe from last night or early this morning and really big loads in both socks. Your ego hoped that it was thanks to you. And even if it wasn’t, maybe tonight it might be. 

Normally such a thought would annoy you or even disgust you. But with Noah? Nope. Quite the opposite. Part of you wanted to turn him on and light his fire so to speak and the thought of running him dry was a brand new fantasy for you and felt more like a mission than anything. You weren’t ashamed to admit it. You wanted him. And in this moment, badly. 

You had your work cut out for you.

You did your best to tidy as you went through the house. Not that it was terribly dirty or unkempt. Just a little cluttered here and there, some dusting was in order though. You could tell that he was in the middle of his busy season, you knew that sometimes things got forgotten or not done perhaps as often as they should when you were at your busiest. You were going to help him catch up and you had all day to do it. 

You noticed he really only had the bare essentials as far as cleaning supplies and you wondered if that was because that was all he could afford. 

Honestly, it was because of his patience and good will that you were able to make as much money as you did the day you met him and at this point, it was extra money you had not anticipated making or having in your budget for this trip and you had the very strong urge to pamper and spoil Noah and Sakura with it. All you needed was Taylor and her van. Besides she seemed keen on the match herself and you were sure she would help you and you were making your to do lists and shopping lists by the time she got there at 9. 

“Good morning.” You greeted her cheerfully. 

“Good morning,” She greeted you back sleepily. 

“So, I need the biggest of favors.” You began and your eager eyes and mischievous smile had her mirroring your expression. 

“What do you need and why?” She asked as she sidled up next to you. 

“Ok so Noah needs a few things from the store and a little bit of housework here and there and he said I could make him dinner for when he gets home tonight.” You began. 

“And?” She prodded as her grin grew into a full blown smile. 

“Want to get a breath of fresh air?” You hinted as the kids were playing in the living room with the cats and the dogs before you and her stepped out of the sliding glass door in the back so you could keep an eye on the kids but keep some level privacy. 

“Ok, so uh, stop me if I sound completely insane, but I really like Noah and Sakura and I don’t know what it is about them but I’m drawn to both of them. Like holding Sakura is like holding my own daughter and it’s like I’ve known them my whole life and we’re just the best and oldest of friends and I have the overwhelming urge to just...take care of them.” You confessed and Taylor was practically vibrating with joy. This was a great start. Things could grow and flourish from here. She just needed to give you the right encouragement. 

“You are not crazy or insane for feeling that way, especially about Noah and Sakura. No one is more worthy or deserving of whatever help you can give them. And I know Noah will appreciate even the smallest or simplest of things you can give or even do for him.” Taylor nodded her agreement. 

“Well Noah did tell me that he trusted me completely and that I can do whatever I wanted with Sakura today. So, that being said. I need to go back to your house to get my second trunk. Because that first one had all the spices and seeds in it? I had two just in case one didn’t make it. And I wasn’t sure what to do with the second and coming here and seeing how bare Noah’s kitchen really is…” You began. 

“Oh definitely. Up here there’s a belief of The Gods’ Will. Sometimes we’re moved to do or say things that may not make a ton of sense to us in the moment. But end up fulfilling the prayers of others. I know Noah and Sakura have been praying for help for a year and a half. And last year Noah and Sakura were ok because Neena’s death was still fresh in everyone’s minds and everyone helped them out but this year- it’s like most of them forgot all about them and poor Noah is grappling with how to fulfill both roles by himself and he’s just plain overwhelmed and this year he’s picking up every job he can just trying to make ends meet and some of his customers that he used to really depend on are trying to cut corners by hiring newer pilots who are less experienced with smaller planes that are cheaper to run and so far the weather has been really good so the other pilots have been able to do his job better and instead of doing several jobs at once, these places can afford to send out five individual pilots with single loads to a single destination quicker, like truckers and these other pilots can afford to all share an apartment together because they’re all single guys with no dependants and can pool resources while Noah is all by himself and has not just his own mouth to feed but Sakura and his animals in addition to his own aging parents and Neena’s aging parents because Neena’s other siblings haven’t moved back to help out Neena’s parents too but he can’t afford to lower his prices to try to compete or else he would actually lose money instead of make it and some of his customers are becoming difficult to deal with and he’s left between a rock and a hard place and in the meantime Sakura needs to go to school this year and that’s a challenge in itself.” Taylor explained. 

“Has Noah tried to move on romantically since he lost Neena?” You asked thoughtfully. 

“No. Neena was practically a saint and most women around here feel they can’t measure up to her which isn’t fair to anyone. She wasn’t perfect but she was a really wonderful person. But I know he’s really lonely and he’s been praying for the right woman with the right heart condition who will recognize his situation and treat him and Sakura with love and kindness. And I’m thinking if you instantly feel like helping them upon meeting them even if you don’t know them very well and especially if you have the means and the drive to- that you’re most likely the answer to their prayers.” Taylor revealed. 

“And if I just to happen to uh, coincidentally, find Noah incredibly, irresistably attractive and want to woo him by making him a feast and getting his house in perfect running order? And maybe even run him dry or at least raw?” You asked with a wince but a bright bashful smile none the less. 

“Yyeeaass!” Taylor practically screamed in a bright cheer before she accidentally spilled some of her coffee. “Oh shit, can’t spill the coffee, it’s precious coffee.” Taylor murmured before she eagerly sipped more of it before she put it down and hugged you and practically jumped up and down on the porch with you. 

“Ok, tell me how I can help.” She beamed. 

You had her take you and Sakura back to her house where you grabbed not only your other crate but also a few other things and then once unloaded those things into Noah’s house and you took your lists and she drove you to the best big box club store in the area that would have everything you wanted even if it was a two hour drive away. You got two flatbed carts and Sakura, Jamie and Matt all sat one one that Taylor pushed around as Katie happily helped you with yours as you happily started to strategically loaded up what you wanted and needed, not caring in the least what it would cost because you had a budget of a few grand and it made you so happy and gave you so much satisfaction to be doing this for Noah and Sakura and with some sweet talking to the head butcher, he gave you one hell of a deal on a ton of meat as you also got some junk food for the kids to keep them happy and had lunch there at the place, having got two rotisserie chickens and by a miracle, you managed to squeeze it all back into the van as the kids were happily holding their new junk food in exchange to being a little cramped with other stuff packed in around them before they quickly fell asleep and took a nap on the way back as you spent the whole two hours back working out a schedule of what to do when so that right about 6- the house could be clean and a feast would be ready and once back at the house you put the plan into action and with Taylor keeping the kids busy with a movie, she helped you as much as she could as she also wrote down your recipes as you cooked them since you knew them by heart and showed her what you were doing as you did it so she could replicate it and right at 4:30, she took her kids home to make dinner for her own family since she was going to be using the same recipes you were since all the food you would be making was already in motion which left you to portion out the remainder of the meat. 

By 5 you got the call that Noah would be another hour away from coming home and you knew it was then to start cooking the steaks and start the risotto since risotto was a very labor intensive process which would take the remainder of your attention as you and Sakura danced in the kitchen to music on your little portable speaker as you taught her how you danced and you were so caught up in dancing and grooving in the kitchen- you didn’t hear Noah come in the door as his nose practically went nuts. He had never smelled food like this before and it smelled better than anything he had ever smelled before. It made his stomach growl loudly which finally alerted you and Sakura to his presence. 

“Daddy!” Sakura cheered as she ran over and leaped into his arms. 

“Hey Kiddo, how was your day?” He asked her as he picked her up and carried her over to the kitchen. 

“It was awesome! We had so much fun!” Sakura fawned. 

“Did you go riding?” He asked. 

“We didn’t have time, we went shopping and we did something called “being domestic” which was really just chores but she made it into a game, she bought these really cool cloths that pick up all kinds of dust and she had me dust everything I could reach with my stool so that I can help you keep our castle clean.” Sakura beamed as she showed him the dusting cloth. 

“Castle?” Noah repeated, with amusement. 

“Castle law- every man’s home is his castle.” You supplied as Noah ‘oh’ed’ in understanding. 

“And she agrees that our castle is very grand in it’s own way. It may not be as big as others but it’s ours and we need to take care of it so it can protect us.” Sakura beamed. 

“I agree.” Noah nodded. “So...how far over budget did we go?” Noah asked with a bit of a nervous laugh. 

“I didn’t go over my budget, don’t worry about it, just sit down and eat. That’s all I want from you right now.” You urged as you took out the steaks from the oven and Noah made a whimpering keen when he saw them. 

“Oh I’m in trouble, so much trouble.” Noah murmured in awe as he shook his head as he just watched in awed wonder as you seamed to pull a feast out of his kitchen, he didn’t think his kitchen was big enough for half of this. He was not worthy. 

“Trouble of what?” You asked curiously. 

‘Of falling in hopelessly in love with you’. Noah’s mind was begging his mouth to say. 

“I...I’m in over my head. I have no idea how I’m...gonna pay you back for any of this.” Noah admitted. 

“Hey, Noah, look at me.” You reached out and framed his face in your hands and you had the overwhelming urge to kiss him but you knew it would probably be inappropriate and he may not appreciate that, yet anyway. 

“Do not cheapen my gifts by trying to put a monetary value to them or feel that you have to repay anything. Everything I’ve done and given was given freely and and with immense pride and joy. Do we owe the gods for when they answer our prayers and bless us? Do you think they keep a tally? No. So don’t start a tally with me, I give to you because I know you’ll be appreciative and you’re more than deserving and worthy. Please do me the honor of accepting these gifts with grace and happiness, that’s all that I ask and all that I want.” You insisted before he just lifted his own hands to hold your own face before he kissed your forehead and hugged you which you happily returned as his words of muffled thanks were music to your ears and this big hug from his was all you could fantasize about as his affection was practically making you love drunk and so unbelievably happy as you once again had that overwhelming sensation that you were at home in his arms. A new home, this one filled with so much more love than your last and it wasn’t until the dogs tried to nose their way between you that you finally let go of each other. 

“Now let’s eat before it gets cold.” You urged before you handed him the largest plate as you quickly got Sakura her own plate. 

“So what do we have?” Noah asked eagerly. 

“Ok, so what we have is bacon sauteed brussel sprouts with maple syrup and goat cheese. We have broccolini with cheddar cheese those are my two- “healthy” vegetable dishes. From there we have loaded twice baked potatoes, liquor yams, but all the alcohol should have baked off so it’s safe for Sakura to eat them, she won’t get drunk or anything. Then we have death by cheese mac and cheese, mushroom risotto with extra sauteed mushrooms to go over your steaks and dinner rolls. The only rule I have is you are not allowed to put ketchup on my steaks. I bought steak sauce and brought homemade hot sauce.” You revealed as you pointed everything out and the only thing Noah wanted to devour more than the food was you but he didn’t have the nerve or the courage just yet as he just stood there and stared at the feast as his eyes just got a little watery. 

“Could you um, like pinch me because I am not sure if I’m dreaming or halucinating. Because this is bordering on too good to be true.” He teased you. 

“It’s very much real, but if you insist on a pinch...” You playfully reached over and pinched his butt as he recoiled only slightly but started laughing as his sleep deprived brain was about to short circuit because he was on the edge of being overstimulated. Like a pet diving into a pool of new toys, wanting to play with all of them at the same time and can’t decide which one to go for first. 

“Eat, eat!” You urged him. 

“You slaved for the meal, you go first, women and children first right?” He urged you. 

“How chivalrous,” you flattered before you got yourself a good portion and sat down at the table before you opened your little jar of hot sauce for your steak. 

“Hot sauce?” You offered as you sucked on the tip of your thumb as Noah seemed to fixate on your mouth before he swallowed hard before he tore his eyes away from your mouth to take the jar and found a tiny spot on his already heaping plate for it. 

“It’s best on the mac and cheese though, like buffalo chicken dip but without the chicken.” You hinted. 

“Prayer Daddy.” Sakura urged him before he could eat before you happily reached out and took Sakura’s hand and offered your hand to Noah who happily took it and held it as he tried not to let the touch completely blank his mind as he noticed your eyes were closed and the most beautiful, serene smile was on your lips as you held his hand and you were even more of a vision now than you were this morning. He closed his eyes and addressed all of his gods. In his prayer he thanked the gods for the pleasure of your presence and prayed that whatever blessings you gave and whatever you spent to make those blessings happen, returned to you a hundred fold and that whatever you did or would ever do would find success and you did your best to wipe away your tears as quickly as you could once he said amen. Andy had never prayed about you like that and it meant the world to you. 

Noah tried his best not to moan, or cry. He tried, and he failed. 

“So, I have to say, this is the best food I have ever put in my mouth. It’s like...the gods either prepared this food or this food was prepared for them, and I don’t know if I’m worthy as a mortal to eat it.” Noah teasingly praised and you beamed happily. 

“Thank you. Welcome to Zara’s greatest hits food wise.” You gestured to the food. “For all the holidays, it’s always my dad, my brother in law Jake and myself who are in charge of the food. My dad is in charge of the smoker, so he smokes all the wings, the salmon, all the ribs and brisket and pulled pork and stuff. Obviously these are my specialties. Although my turkeys usually make my sisters cry. Jake, believe it or not is the king of casseroles and one pan and one dish dinners, like paella and all things seafood. While Anya and Tasha are on drink duty because Anya’s a professional bartender. And when it’s not holidays it’s superbowl, or it’s championships. Any excuse to get together and eat.” You explained. 

“So what did your family think of Andy?” Noah asked. 

“They got along really well, Andy was really quiet and shy at first and he was incredibly introverted. But he was also a really big guy, not quite as big as you but close and solid and he had resting…” You paused as you tried to think of the appropriate substitute. 

“Jerk face?” Noah supplied. 

“Yeah, jerk face. He couldn’t help it, that was just his face. But once he warmed up to you- oh man, you had to have a sharp wit to keep up with him and he could just deliver line after line and he could verbally roast anyone. Which at first is very entertaining and fun and my brother and my dad thought it was awesome because Andy was very much just one of the guys. But being married to that, it’s exhausting and hurtful and he had a really hard time turning the sarcasm off and he forgot to filter himself most of the time and when I would inevitably get my feelings hurt his mother would chastise me for being too thin skinned and that if ‘a Kingsley wasn’t making fun of you- they didn’t like you’ and Andy only ever had brothers. No sisters. But because he was so big and so mean looking, I could go anywhere I wanted with him and no one messed with me because they took one look at Mr. Big Scary Giant and thought twice about trying to spit game and Andy was incredibly strong and he only ever got into one fight when he was a kid and he put the guy into the hospital but Andy used that to his advantage he was a very intimidating person and one lip curl or a crack of his neck and knuckles and low growl and it was enough to unnerve anyone. Otherwise he was a great earner and provider financial and materially, he just had to be reminded often to be kind and nice.” 

“But the price of all that was you were married to a sarcastic jerk.” Noah realized in disgust as you nodded. 

“Yup, which is why I look at his life insurance policy money as money earned for being married to him so long, I know that sounds incredibly horrible and shallow but it’s the truth. Which is why when and if I get married again- how much money they make means very little to me and I don’t care about what they do as long as they like what they do because life is too short to slave away in a job you hate with people you despise. Personality is everything to me now. I got enough financially so that I’m set for the rest of my life. Now I just want to share my life with someone who makes me happy mentally, emotionally and spiritually, and of course the other kind that shouldn’t be talked about in polite company.” You specified with a mischievous grin which made Noah smile wide as he nodded and forced his mouth shut because he was about to volunteer himself, even though he was sleep deprived and exhausted, he felt he could push himself to really love you right. At least give his tongue a good work out. Because if you have the cooking skills of a goddess, by the gods, he was going to worship you like one.

Then you looked over at Sakura who was shoveling food in her mouth. 

“Hey, hey, hey, slow down, the food’s not gonna disappear when you close your eyes, if you eat too much too fast you’ll get a stomach ache, do you want to throw everything up?” You asked her which made her pause. 

“I’m not taking any of this food home with me, it’s all staying here. I made enough that you should have two dinners and a couple of lunches. And it all keeps in the fridge and microwaves pretty good.” You reassured her before she finally slowed down. 

“It’s hard for me not to inhale it all too Baby,” Noah reassured his daughter with an understanding smile. 

Once dinner was eaten, Noah happily helped you put the left overs away and got started on washing the bigger pots and pans that wouldn’t fit in the dishwasher and he was never sexier to you. Just to see this fine specimen of a man standing in front of a sink scrubbing pots. You were ready to suck him dry in the kitchen as you tried to stomp that down because he probably wouldn’t appreciate that or would be keen on letting you around his daughter again. He was a sensible, reasonable man and he may not be ready for that yet and he may not be interested romantically in you either and while you knew you were meant to be here to help. You didn’t feel you were meant to come and stay forever. You wanted him to be sure but you didn’t know how moving forward this could possibly work. You didn’t want to do him the injustice of a one night stand. You wanted more with him than just a night or two of casual sex. So in order for you to hopefully enjoy more in the future, you could deal with enjoying less in the moment. You wanted to build more. You still had a week up here, you had a little bit of time. 

“So how long will you need to get your own appointments done?” Noah asked. 

“Give me a day, I can get them all done tomorrow then I can be all yours the day after, I take it you’ll need more help with the bigger loads?” You guessed as Noah nodded. 

“Honestly more of my most difficult customers.” Noah confessed. 

“How are they difficult?” You asked thoughtfully as you helped him dry the dishes and put them away. 

“Well only because I have a bigger plane and there’s some things that won’t fit in a normal bush plane. Otherwise they’ve used the newer pilots who are less expensive and don’t have the overhead or dependants I do that can do it cheaper than I can. In fact there’s a few of them who all room together on the other side of town. But I can’t lower my own prices any lower because if I do, I’ll lose money instead of making it.” Noah explained. Normally he wouldn’t be comfortable breathing anything this personal or private to anyone. But he felt comfortable confiding in you. 

“How old are the other pilots?” You asked. 

“Psh, barely adults, they’re like walking disasters, I’ve seen them try to do flips in the air with cargo on board and they don’t show any respect for anything. They think it’s all fun and games.” Noah griped and you felt rage lick up your spine. 

“Well it does make business sense to try to undercut what you can and take chances on the less reliable if it saves your bottom line in the moment. But when you do that- you risk the quick easy fix costing you quite a bit in the future. Especially when the new easy fix isn’t reliable and catastrophic failure is always a thing you have to contend with- with anything. When I have new clients as they look at how much my own fees are and the numbers give them pause. My usual go-to is to remind them that they get what they pay for and it’s my experience and my specialities that recommend me. When we go to the hospital, do we want an inexperienced surgeon operating on us? Who’s trying to get their start in their career by slashing prices to get new clients? No. Hell no. We want the older more experienced surgeon with thousands of operations under their belt, who has kept up with their continuing education and has prided themselves on staying on the cutting edge because it’s our lives on the line. That’s why I used your services at first was because you had the most experience and you were the greatest professional that could be recommended and that’s why you’re worth your fees. Because it’s not just your own livelihood on the line, it’s your family’s and it’s your clients livelihoods too. You’re a serious and respectful professional. They aren’t. I think it’s only a matter of time before your clients get burned by using young and stupid. Because honestly, if they fail, it’s no big deal, they don’t have families that will go hungry, you do. Are these other pilot’s- locals, natives or outlanders?” You asked. 

“They’re all outlanders,” Noah answered. 

“And your clients?” You inquired as you tilted your head. 

“Locals and natives.” Noah answered. 

“Can you do me a favor?” You asked. 

“Anything.” Noah answered. 

“Write down the names of your difficult clients for me. Whenever I have issues especially with clients, especially tight fisted, cheapskate ones or ones that have problems out of my control that they’re somehow making me responsible for, I pray for them to come to their senses or simply have sense and reason. And if you could write down the names of the other pilots, I would also like to pray for them too.” 

“You’re not going to curse them are you?” Noah teased as he did as you asked of him after he dried off his hands after finishing the dishes. 

“No, I pray for my own competitors, because honestly there are some clients that are more trouble to keep than they’re worth and so I send them to my own competitors to deal with and I pray that those clients stay with them instead of coming back to me when they find out that I’m better than they are. Some clients are always about getting as much out of you as they can for as cheap as they can and I put as much distance between me and them as I can so that I will have the free space for the clients who will appreciate my quality and feel that I’m worth the investment. Instead of a “stupid splurge” that others think I am. So maybe these other clients that you’ve lost, you’re better off without them and now you’re free to take on new clients, clients who will appreciate you and not undercut you but build you up and hopefully pay better than the ones you lost ever paid you. Besides, if push comes to shove and your business goes belly up, I mean heaven forbid and knock on wood...” You quickly knocked on the countertops as he did too. “I have all kinds of connections with the air force base that’s half an hour away from me and there’s a local international airport that’s forty minutes away and there’s air fields all over, I’m sure there’s still all kinds of opportunities for you as a pilot anywhere you go, you could even be a private jet pilot if you really wanted to.” You mused as Noah considered those options. 

“But that’s neither here nor there and that’s puting like...7, 8, maybe even 9 carriages before our horses so don’t worry about it. Sometimes all we can do is pray and leave things in the god’s hands and trust that it’ll be ok.” You reassured him. “And I have a feeling everything will be just fine.” You added with a serene smile before you just enveloped him in a hug which he happily returned and he could have died happily right there in his kitchen and holding you, he felt the rest of his stress and anxiety completely leave him and if you were a goddess in the kitchen, you were an ethereal deity in his arms. Your touch was grounding yet uplifting all the same and you smelled amazing and he just wanted to lose himself in you. 

“Paradise? Could you give me a bath please?” Sakura asked which reluctantly pulled you out of Noah’s arms. 

“Sure thing Kiddo.” You agreed as you went to her and took her hand and together you went upstairs to where a large clawfoot tub was as you got her a bath, letting her use one of the bath bombs you had packed. You had again packed two sets of bath bombs and with one set with Taylor’s kids, the other set would be here for Sakura and Sakura picked one of your absolute favorites as you both watched as it dissolved, turning the water a kaleidoscope of colors as you used your special body wash to gently clean her skin as you sat on the floor next to the tub so that you could wash and rinse her hair as well as she played with her toys in the tub and once her hair was done, you got some leave in hair conditioner and detangler for her hair as you lovingly and patiently combed it all out. Sakura had such long and delicate fine white hair, like strands of silk by the time you were done with it and didn’t even notice how Noah was watching from the doorway. 

He had taken the moment of peace to finish up his paperwork for the day and just watching you be the mother you were with his daughter was practically bringing him to tears again. It was such a beautiful, heartwarming sight and if he had thought he was head over heels in love with you this morning, he was a goner for sure now. He felt incredibly whole and full after feeling so broken and hollow for so long. Something he thought impossible three days ago. But he was not about to question it. He was just grateful for it. 

Once she was cleaned up and the water was turning cold, you drained the tub and wrapped her up in a towel and helped her get ready for bed before she had you read her a story as Noah got a shower himself after rinsing out the tub of the remains of the bath bomb and since Sakura’s room was right across the hall, you got the glorious gift of seeing Noah in nothing but a towel around his waist as he walked from the bathroom to his room and seeing that big strong muscled back dripping with water, oh gods, you nearly fainted and the words out of your mouth trailed off as you realized Noah had one the best deriers you had probably ever seen in your life. He had curves that would put a back road to shame and once his door was shut that pulled you from admiring him back to Sakura’s story book but thankfully once you looked back to see if Sakura had noticed, she was thankfully out like a light. 

You closed the book and kneeled next to the bed and prayed to all the gods that she would sleep well and sleep in tomorrow to give Noah a chance to recover and you prayed for guidance in helping her and Noah and for the way to help to become evident to you and for you to recognize the opportunities and to have courage to take them when they presented themselves. 

When you were done you got up just to see Noah coming out of his room, dressed in pajamas and while you would love nothing more than to peel them off, the thought of bed and sleep did sound amazing and you were so tired, you had worked a miracle today, in cleaning the house and making a feast fit for a king and cleaning up after it too, although the cleaning up part was easy thanks to Noah’s help. 

“Well, today was awesome, thank you for welcoming me into your home, it’s beautiful.” You praised as you leaned against the wall after closing the door behind you and leaning against it. 

“It’s small and falling apart.” He admitted as he leaned against the wall across from you. Just taking in the vision of you in his hallway. 

“But it has a thousand times the love inside it than there is any mansion. A house is just a house until you put people in it, then it’s a home. And because of who is in this home means this is one of the finest ones I’ve ever been in.” You praised as you bashfully ducked your head as Noah looked like he was about to eat you alive in a very carnal way as he pushed off the wall and took a step forward before your phone rang and it was Taylor. 

“Hey, could you come get me? I’m ready to go and I’m so tired, I could fall over, please don’t make me walk back to your house.” You whined sarcastically as you couldn’t help but giggle a little and Noah reluctantly took a step back and knew that the door for him to prove to you just how much love was in his home, let alone himself, the door had closed as quickly as it opened and he missed his opportunity to prove it. All he could do is hope that it would open again the day after tomorrow. Maybe it was for the best, it would give him time to rest up and be fully energized. But he was determined. He was going to make you his one way or another before you left, if it was the last thing he would do and so begrudgingly he watched you leave as once again, the emptiness and hollow feeling crept back into him and he felt like warm light left the house once you did. 

Hell he would find a way to build you whatever kind of house you wanted, with his own two hands if he had to. 

“Why the fuck did you have me come get you when Noah is looking at you like a damn feast and he’s starving, I thought you wanted to raw him? What the fuck? Your opportunity to do that is behind you.” Taylor chastised you once you got in her minivan. 

“It’s not the right time. Noah deserves better than a one night stand or even a two nighter.” You argued. 

“Uh by my calculations it could have been a seven nighter if you got started tonight.” Taylor argued. 

“And then what? Have the best week of my life and then just...what? Walk away? No. I’m too invested emotionally with Sakura to do anything like that. I feel like if I rush the intimacy with Noah, I’ll lose the prize of having Sakura in the long run and they both deserve more attention and effort and time. And Noah and especially Sakura are a prize worth waiting for, worth fighting for worth doing whatever I can to help them and worth doing right. I don’t want to hit it and quit it.” You explained. 

“Look, I get it and that makes sense but I am telling you now, Noah looks like he’s about to hump that beam he’s leaning against and if you gave him half a chance I’m pretty sure he would have rocked the northern lights into your eyes tonight and every night from here on out, I know him, he’s not a hit and quit it person either and he’s as loyal as the summer days are long up here and when he does anything, he goes whole hog and he’s in it till the end, he’s a ride or die kind of guy. You said you were flexible and could go anywhere.” Taylor reminded you.

“...true. But again, I’ve only known him two days, would you drop everything and sell everything you own to move in with a stranger you’ve only known for two days?” You posed to her. “That’s putting a few carts ahead of the horse don’t you think?” You posed back to her. 

“Well ok, get to know him a tiny bit more and then bang his lights out and we can figure the rest out later.” Taylor compromised. 

“Ok, that’s a little more fair.” You laughed as she drove you back to her house where you promptly crashed.