#Pretty sure I misheard some things said…this scene was full of

[don-dake]

「望咩呀？！矮仔！」

“Whatcha' looking at?! Midget!”

「望咩？！大山婆！」

“Whatcha' looking at?! Gigantor!”

「你呀！做我人質，行！」

“You! You're my hostage! Move it!”

「做人質？！做人質搵女人！」

“Hostage?! You should look for a woman to be a hostage!”

「我以事論事，人質梗係搵女人㗎喇！* 梗係大聲啲，同情你…」

“I'm just saying it like it is, women of course make better hostages! * Louder (for the people at the back?), have some pity…(?)”

* As his sentence was cut off midspeech, unclear what would have been said.

「呢個世界而家男女平等，做人質冇一定要女人！」

“This world is now equal for the sexes, women hostages aren't a given!”

「尤其是你！奀挑鬼命，易得啲㗎嘛！」

“You especially! Exceptionally scrawny and weak, so much easier (with you as a hostage)!”

「我呢個鋼條型好對手㗎！又瘦，有虛位…」

“This hard steel bar shape (body) of mine is really good at fighting! And skinny to boot, good chance to wriggle…(free?)”

「唔殺得你哋個個都唔識驚！」

“You don't know what being afraid is until I kill you all, is it!”

《命轉情真》 (1999) | 第二集

新詞：

大山婆 (🇭🇰🇲🇴 daai⁶ saan¹ po⁴)

奀挑鬼命 (🇭🇰🇲🇴 ngan¹ tiu¹ gwai² meng⁶)

[barzzal]

hi! would you be willing to do a part 3 to the angsty dad! mat fic? i need a happy ending 🥺

read part one and part two here. also, i listened to gone gone gone by honne while writing 💞

theo’s laughter was all that you can hear as soon as you got out of your mom’s guest room.

it was over a week since you left mat. pretty much the same amount of time you have been dodging his calls. he tried coming over your workplace a couple of times but you managed to make your assistant turn him away. you were quite amazed that he’d even put an effort but you still needed time to think things through and so, you were thankful that your mom was kind enough to tell him you and theo weren’t in her house the first time he came over.

“good morning, mommy!” theo greets you enthusiastically with his mouth still full from taking a bite off his waffles. he effortlessly earns a smile from you as you bent down to kiss the top of his head.

“no talking while you’re chewing your food, young man.” you tell him, your little boy willingly submits to what was asked of him. you kiss your mom on the cheeks who was already sipping her morning coffee across from your son on the breakfast table.

“good morning, sweetheart.” she says, greeting you with a smile.

“guess who has called me thrice so early in the morning?” your mother suggestively looks at you whilst she reads her morning paper.

you didn’t want to assume that it was who you were thinking of so you just shortly give her a shrug before grabbing the pot to transfer coffee into your work tumbler.

“if running away worked with your dad, i wouldn’t have ended up marrying him, y/n.” your mom subtly reminds you, carefully choosing the right words so the little one wouldn’t pick up on what the two of you were talking about.

theo has been asking a lot about mat since the first morning you’ve spent at your mom’s. he wasn’t really used to not seeing his dad everytime he wakes up or goes to sleep. and you know, that as a child yearning for his father, theo’s bound to realize what happened between the two of you any time soon.

“ma, dad’s different. he’s a good father.” you remind her. knowing your mom, however, you should have known that she’ll just be throwing the same rock at you.

“and so is yours. that man just needs a little nudge.” she says, giving theo a glass of water when he was done savoring his first meal for the day.

“theo, baby, could you get your school bag now? we’ll be going in a bit.” you politely ask him. your son eagerly nods as he zooms off towards the guest room where the two of you have been staying for the time being.

when theo was far enough from hearing the two most important women in his life (exactly how your son worded it last night), you sit across from your mom and took the shot of listening on what she has to say.

“you’re supposed to be partners, darling. i really don’t get why you choose to team up against each other when everyone knows you’re far better off together.”

“mom, it doesn’t work like that.” you tell her.

your mother was quick to raise a brow at what you’d just said, “tell me how it works then.”

you scratch your temple at the growing uneasiness beginning to creep up your spine under your mom’s heavy gaze.

“he’s... he’s no longer the man i married. he wasn’t like this. and i–” your mom immediately cuts you off with a scoff, “and you think you’re still the woman he married? sweetie, the reason why there’s an awful lot of failed marriages out there is because they fail to remember one salient thing about keeping one.”

you were quiet for a while. admittedly wanting to hear the rest of what your mom was going to say.

“and what is it?”

“it’s not gonna be easy.” she says, eyes darting on yours.

“it’s gonna be a mess. but you and mat? i know you’ll be able to make it work. anyway, if you really think you’re gonna end up on that road, then by all means, do it. if you can picture yourself raising theo without him, i’ll be with you every step of the way.” she stands when the doorbell rings, starting to make her way towards where your son was currently at.

“could you get that for me, sweetheart?” she says motioning towards the front door, already receding into the hallway.

you stand and head towards the door. you didn’t bother to look through the peep hole for you thought your mom was just getting her parcel.

but as soon as you opened the door, what you saw was an anxious mat, running his hands through his hair, the other fidgeting on his waist, and his back turned against you, desperately wishing to see his wife and his son.

you were stunned to see him. even though he was wearing decent clothes, you could already tell just by how deranged he looked, with heavy circles present underneath his eyes, and the fact that he looks tired, you realize that this whole thing might be taking a toll on him worse than you could even imagine.

“y/n.” a quiet whisper escapes his lips. obviously surprised you were the one to greet him by the door when he was actually hoping to talk to your mom.

“what are you doing here?” you ask him, voice dead and cold.

“y/n, please.” he pleads, contesting with himself because he didn’t want to push you further over the edge. he knew that you didn’t want to see him, and even if it kills him, knowing that his son was inside that house kills him a million times more.

“please talk to me.” you avert his gaze and shake your head no but just as you were about to close the door, your son walks out the room and sees mat at the end of the hallway.

as he meets his father’s eyes, a gleeful look was all that’s painted on his little face, “daddy!!!” he squeals, running past you and straight into mathew’s arms.

mat was already over the moon at the sight of his young man. your grip on the knob tightens as you try to keep yourself together upon the sight unravelling before you.

“daddy, where were you?” theo begins to cry, his arms almost choking mat for clinging onto him a little too tight.

mat looks at you for a moment, silently asking for your approval. when you only break off from his gaze, he takes it as a yes.

“i... i’m sorry but daddy had to sort out some things, buddy.” he says once theo’s small and tiny arms lets go of his hold.

“hey, don’t cry.” mathew hushes, wiping theo’s cheeks with the back of his hand. evidently shattered for having to see his son this way.

“are you going to leave again?” theo sniffs and innocently asks, unconciously hitting a sensitive nerve between you and mat.

mat looks at you for a moment for he didn’t know if he still has to leave nor was he still welcome to come back. he didn’t want to step in so abruptly because he knows it’ll just be all too overwhelming for you. and he couldn’t let himself cause you much pain than he already has. but he also couldn’t let theo hang by a thread just because the two of you couldn’t work things out together.

“no.” he finally says. “not anymore.”

he wishes that you caught on what he really meant. he was going to make up for all the shit you had to put up with him. you have given him a glimpse of what his life would be like without you in it. he just couldn’t stand a day without you and theo, and he knew that if he’d continue being short of the man you married, it wouldn’t take long before you finally realize that you and theo are better off without him in the picture.

you take your son’s hands away from him, reminding him that he still had a lot to go through.

“sweetie, come on, we’ll be late for school.” you say in a tone that even sounded differently in theo’s ears.

“can daddy come with us?” he asks you, shyly tugging onto your skirt.

you only give him a forced smile, ruffling his hair as you hold his hand firmly, “no, baby, he still has some things to work out.”

theo’s face drops at what you said, but even then he was quick to plaster a smile and look back at his father. “daddy, will you come to my play on saturday?” he asks, arms already clinging onto mat’s neck as fast as he broke off from your hold.

“you’re in a play?” mat’s eyes widen at the thought of seeing theo on a stage, making you roll your eyes, something that’s definitely reminded you of why you were in this situation in the first place.

theo wildly nods, making mat smile from one ear to the other. “i’ll be there.”

once theo lets go of mat’s arms, you take him by the hand and begin treading your way towards your car, leaving mat alone as he watch his life walk away from him for the second time.

𖥸

you were already running late for theo’s play and you still haven’t got a hold of mathew. it was bad enough that you actually hoped he’d try to at least make an effort but now you’ll have to put up with another disappointment when you tell your son his own father couldn’t be bothered to come for his play. 

did you honestly think he’d give a damn?

you have never walked this fast all your life. the only thing that was going on in your mind was the image of your son, alone and scared as he peek through the curtains, only to find neither of his parents present for his event. you can’t possibly do that to a three-year-old. 

but frankly, mathew can. 

“mrs. barzal!” theo’s teacher came running towards you, wearing her warm smile as usual. 

“hi. i’m sorry i’m a bit late, where is theo?” you ask her, still panting and catching for breath.

“oh, don’t worry! theo’s already at the backstage with your husband.” she says, motioning towards the wide doors.

you thought you just misheard her so you ask just to make sure, “excuse me? what do you mean—” 

“theo came in with his dad an hour ago, ma’am.” she says, the two of you making your way towards the backstage. 

once you’ve set foot in the dressing room, you see your boys too immersed as they go over theo’s lines. mat was practicing along, mouthing every line theo utters. 

“show’s in about five minutes.” theo’s teacher excuses herself and goes on to do a final check on the kid’s routine. 

as you take in the scene before you, you can’t help but stumble in your steps, overwhelmed that mat finally kept his word this time.

you clutched your purse close to your chest when theo caught a glimpse of you, enough to make mat turn his head towards where you were standing. 

“mommy! you’re late!” theo reprimands, making you laugh a little. 

you make your way towards them, crouching to meet your son at eye level, “i’m sorry.” you coo, admittedly in awe of your son’s attire and costume. you pepper theo’s cheeks with kisses as an attempt to make up for the time you’ve spent working away from him. mat quietly smiles as he watches you and theo so close, yet still so far before his eyes.

you watched mat go over theo’s lines for the last time before theo’s teacher called the kids to huddle them up to get the show started. soon, all the parents were ushered down the stage and into your respective seats. 

“hey.” mat takes your hand for a moment before following the rest of the parents exiting the backstage.

he sighs, a little uncertain and afraid of what you might tell him afterwards but he just couldn’t take another day without you or theo in his life. 

he wants you back.

he wants you home.

he wants you.

“i’ll be better.” he sincerely says, fighting the lump he’s beginning to feel in his throat upon remembering the nights he had to endure without you in his arms.

“i know.” you reply, smiling genuinely as you entwine your hand with his, this time, letting him know that you’ll never let go. 

[harlot-of-oblivion]

Prowling For Pleasure

You treat Vergil to a night of indulgent luxury and forbidden pleasures.

Rated Explicit for: Dubcon, Vampiric Manipulation, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Femdom, and the usual Vampire Activities. 

Part Two: Decadence & Depravity 

Tonight is the night of your promised hunt, and you can honestly say that you’ve never felt this excited in all your undead life! Everything is almost ready for your date…all you need to do is finish getting dressed, which is easier said than done with the ever-growing knot in the pit of your stomach. You’ve grown accustomed to spending your solitude with only a few trusted confidants, but the thought of stepping out for a night on the town with Vergil is exhilarating!

You can’t stand all the pent-up nervousness and excitement raging inside you any longer. Your eyes dart over to a black velvet bag sitting on a nearby shelf as you apply the finishing touches to your makeup. You reach over and grab it before taking out a deck of tarot cards at Vergil’s desk. Their musty scent wafts through the air as you shuffle the cards a few times, envisioning your question before splitting the deck into three smaller stacks. Then, you gather them all back up in a different order and spread the top four cards out on the desk in the form of a cross.

Time to see how our date will play out.

You turn over the first card to reveal the image of a nude woman pouring two vessels of water, one over land and the other into a calm river. Your lips curve into a fond smile at the familiar card, The Star, which has popped up in a lot of your readings ever since Vergil started calling you by the sweet endearment. So, it makes sense why this card represents you and your feelings in the matter at hand: you hope to grow even closer with your fierce fella after tonight.

Your brow quirks at the next card in the spread, which depicts a man in full armor riding atop a valiant steed with a large wand. Huh…how curious, you muse, tilting your head at the Knight of Wands as you ponder its meaning. It usually denotes a popular person prone to grand gestures crossing your way…this person may also be full of themselves and impetuous, leading them to make rushed and foolish decisions. You’re not exactly sure what this means for your date tonight, but you get the feeling that it won’t be favorable.  

The next card has you blinking a couple times before leaning in just to make sure your eyes aren’t deceiving you. But the scene of three young women dancing in a circle with their golden chalices held high in a joyful toast remains the same. Curiouser and curiouser, you thought while tapping your nails on the desk, wondering if the proposed outcome of success is too good to be true. Drawing the Three of Cups is all around a good omen though, so you press onto the very last card of the spread.

A shiver runs up your spine at the sight of a man and a woman embracing each other in paradise. The consequences of tonight’s date will lead to what you’ve always wanted in your previous life…and what you desire now more than ever despite your cursed existence. Now I know it’s too good to be true, you consider sullenly, warning yourself to not get your hopes up as you begin clearing the desk. But a peculiar notion pops into your head when you touch The Lovers card again; it doesn’t seem like your usual stray thoughts at all…it feels like a sudden prediction of moments yet come…    

Two souls shall converge in a moment of destiny.

“I didn’t take you for a fortune teller.”

Your head whips around at the sound of your lover’s voice. His soft lips curl into a smirk as you check out his delectable attire for tonight. The paisley pattern of the midnight blue jacket looks absolutely regal buttoned around his waist. A black and blue handkerchief pokes out of his jacket’s pocket, bringing your attention to the silky black lapels framing his broad chest. The matching black dress shirt and pants starkly contrasts with his silvery white hair while the Yamato hanging on his hip completes his elegant wardrobe.

“I don’t dabble in tarot much,” you explain while storing the cards back inside the small velvet bag. “But I thought a little insight might help us with our date tonight,” you admit, softly nipping your lower lip with a single fang as you get up from his desk.

Vergil hums in understanding as you stow the bag back on the appropriate shelf. “And where, exactly, shall this date take place?” he inquires, slicking back his perfectly styled hair while watching you with a curious gleam in his eyes.

Your hands become a blur as you quickly wrap your hair into a low bun before pinning it in place. “There’s this posh jazz lounge downtown,” you reveal while grabbing a starry headpiece with two chain swags. “It has an excellent bar, great music…” you pause for a moment as you carefully stick the headpiece right above your bun. “And some private sitting rooms for exclusive members,” you finish, clipping the two chains on either side of your head.

Vergil tilts his head. “Sounds like you’ve hunted there before.”

You chortle at his keen deduction as you swiftly fasten an elaborate shoulder necklace around your neck. “It was my usual haunt on those nights whenever I needed a break from blood packs,” you recall with an impish smirk while adjusting the hanging strings of pearls on your arms. “But I haven’t had to go back since you feed me so well, my love,” you point out with a playful purr before showing off your strapless black dress.

The sparkling diamonds and iridescent pearls twinkle like stars as you spin around with a slow and sensual twirl. His husky growl sends pleasant tingles below your belly as the skirt flares out, revealing your bare legs and black stiletto heels. You run a finger down your cleavage with a flirty grin, relishing the spark of desire in his silver blue eyes as your knee pokes out of the scandalously long slit of your dress.

“Well?” you prompt with a pleased smile. “What do you think?”

Vergil slowly stalks over to you. “Now I know why mortals can’t stay away when you’re on the prowl,” he softly declares while taking your hand. “You’re irresistible…” he trails off, turning your hand so that he may place a gentle kiss upon your wrist. “And utterly magnificent,” he murmurs with a reverent smile as he tips your chin up into his amorous kiss.    

You grasp the lapels of his jacket as both of your lips slowly smack against each other for a moment before withdrawing with delighted hums. He offers his arm and you gladly accept by wrapping both of your hands around his elbow. His wicked smirk stirs that ever-present hunger deep inside you as he leads you out of his room, effectively distracting you from sharing one more crucial detail of the date.

“There’s one last thing I’d like to do before we leave,” you reveal nervously as both of you descend the stairs. “It’s been a long time since I’ve done this with anyone but…”

Vergil looks down at you inquisitively as you close your eyes and focus on reaching out with your mind. His eyes widen in shock as your quiet thoughts brush against his consciousness. “It’ll help us keep track of each other tonight,” you reassure, patiently waiting for him to let down his guard. You can feel him contemplating for a few moments before your mind is suddenly flooded with another presence. It feels familiar and little apprehensive, so you decide to test the connection with a simple thought.

Can you hear me, my love?  

Vergil stares at your unmoving lips in wonder as your words pass through his mind. Then, he gives you an affectionate smile while his response slips past your barrier.        

You continue to surprise me, my Evening Star.

“Shall we?” he asks aloud while opening the door.

Your soft giggle fills his mind as both of you leave the shop. He slashes open a portal with the Yamato and takes your arm before leading you to the other side. Then, you explain your powers and abilities in more detail as you both walk through the more upscale part of the city towards your destination. It doesn’t take long for both of you to arrive at The Nightingale, a high-end jazz lounge and your hunting ground for the night.

Vergil asks if a reservation is needed to enjoy this swanky club as you approach the entrance. You nod and admit that you’re not on the list but that can be rectified with just a few words. He quirks his brow at you as he opens the door, letting you enter first before following right behind you.

A young lady greets you in the entryway. “Hi! Welcome to The Nightingale! Your name, please?” she inquires with a friendly smile.

You give her some random name and as she looks down to check the list, you let a tiny bit of the magnetizing presence hidden within you slip out. “Hmm…I don’t see you…” she trails off with a soft gasp as her head snaps up to meet your gaze. “Gosh, you’re so pretty,” she admits with a dreamy sigh before blinking with surprise. “Oh! I’m so sorry, miss! I dunno what’s gotten into me,” she hastily apologizes with a shake of her head.

“Think nothing of it, darling,” you reassure with a tilt of your head as you stare into her awestruck eyes.

Your vampiric charm pulls her in deeper as you delve into her mind, sifting through a few recent memories before reshaping one for your intended purpose. “Perhaps you should check the list again,” you kindly suggest while receding from her mind. “We don’t want any trouble over a simple misunderstanding,” you add with a patient smirk as you glance over at Vergil, who looks just as confused and fascinated as the hostess.

“Yes, of course,” she replies before checking the list again. “Oh! There you are!” she exclaims while marking the exact name she now remembers you saying to begin with. “Must’ve misheard you…so sorry about that!” she apologizes again with a sheepish grin as she points down a nearby hall with huge double doors. You thank her with a smile before heading in that direction, silently amused at her quiet muttering about making a fool of herself in front of a beautiful stranger.

Vergil observes you from the corner of his eye before speaking softly. “It all makes sense now…how you’re so good at gathering information,” he muses with an amazed smirk as both of you come to a halt in the hallway.

“Oh, that’s nothing compared to what I’m about to do, my love,” you boast, noting the two doormen just outside the main venue as you stare up at him with a smug smile. His arms wrap around you as he chuckles at your boldness, bringing you in close to bestow a soft kiss above your brow.

“Happy hunting, my dear.”

And with that, he teleports away in a blink of an eye, leaving you to deal with the spooked doormen. Damnable devil, you thought while rolling your eyes with an annoyed huff. But you’re able to calm them down easily by assuming a peaceful aura within your vampiric presence. They both go back to their positions by the double doors and swing them open as you approach the loud and lively venue.

The smooth sounds of jazz along with the excited chatter of the crowd brings back memories of a past long forgotten. You pause just outside the door to capture this moment before a magnificent storm while nostalgia sweeps you away to a bygone age. Then, you slowly release the full majesty of your presence, letting it unfurl like a blooming flower as you stride into the main floor with your head held high.

All eyes are instantly upon you as the entirety of the club notices your grand entrance. Even the music slows down as your presence hits the musicians, but they quickly recover and find the rhythm again. You can’t help but to smirk at their awed stares and gaping faces as you pass by multiple tables. Several waiters completely ignore their current customers to assist you with your every need. Your soft laughter makes all their hearts beat faster, stirring your hunger as you request a secluded table on the second floor. Their heavenly sighs fill the air when they behold your gracious smile before rushing off to do their task.

You search for Vergil with your mind as you head up to the second floor, questioning if he successfully made it inside the venue unnoticed. His impressed hum brushing against your consciousness lets you know that he’s not only there but close by. Your eyes dart from side to side as you wonder where he could be hiding…but the mystery of his whereabouts has you shivering with anticipation. The thrill of being watched from the shadows runs through you as you’re seated on a plush couch by a table with a fantastic view of the stage.  

That’s when your hunt truly begins.

Most of your kind usually like to roam around looking for their prey and play pretend as they chat up some gullible mortals. Then, they lure them to a private place where the ignorant human will experience the bliss of the Dark Kiss while their new acquaintance indulges in their blood. It’s typical of all vampires to hunt this way…but some predators wait for their prey to come to them.

And oh, do they come…like a swarm of moths to a dangerous flame.

Quite a few people approach you with various requests over the next hour. Some ask if they can join your table while others just want to buy you a drink. You accept some patrons at your table and refuse others, steadily surrounding yourself with potential prey while listening to excellent jazz. Your keen sense of hearing picks up their whispered conversation, learning a little about these mortals as you judge the potency of their blood. All of them show promise but their constant gawking and shallow compliments are boring you to death…again!

Your eyes begin to wander as the band starts playing a slow and smoky tune, totally changing the atmosphere of the club to something more intimate. And that’s when you spy a young woman standing by the bar, trying her hardest to not get caught staring as she peeks over at your table. How adorable, you muse while admiring her curves and pretty dress. You tilt your head with interest when her body quivers under your alluring gaze, which only whets your appetite even more…that is until the sudden appearance of a young man distracts her.

You manage to hold back the irritable growl crawling up your throat at this unfortunate interruption. But you continue to watch closely as they start talking, noting that they must know each other very well going by their friendly demeanor. The woman must have mentioned you since the man glances your way and his body instantly reacts much like his lady friend. Your brow quirks as they lean in close, sharing a few more hushed whispers before turning around to face you together.

Oh my…what an adventurous couple, you surmise, softly laughing to yourself as you dismiss your entourage with a mere flick of your hand. They all follow your silent command without question, leaving you alone with a couple bottles of unopened champagne. You pat the now empty couch with your hand as you lure them over with an inviting grin.

The daring couple immediately join you and introduce themselves while sitting on either side of you on the couch. You take one of the bottles of champagne and pop the cork, smiling at their eager faces as you kindly offer to pour them a drink. They each grab a glass and propose a toast about seizing opportunities for new experiences before taking a sip as you steer the conversation towards themselves.

It doesn’t take much cajoling to learn that they’re not only a couple but engaged, and you just so happen to catch them the night before their wedding! You ask why they’ve chosen to spend their time with you rather than enjoying each other’s company and they both give a vague answer…but curiosity gets the better of you. So, you simply urge them to be honest with your captivating presence, holding them even tighter within your seductive sway as they spill all their dirty little secrets.  

Oh, this is just too delicious! you gush when they reveal one in particular fantasy about having a threesome with a gorgeous stranger. You lean in real close to each of them and whisper your own craving for something new and exciting, tempting both of them with the promise of exquisite pleasure as you nibble on their ear. Your hunger intertwines with lust as you eye both of their necks, reveling in the aroused blood running through their veins.

You’re absolutely ravenous by the time they finish off one bottle of champagne, and you dare say that your venturesome couple is ready for more…but the sudden announcement of a song request draws your attention. You look down at the stage to see the bandleader pointing up in your direction.

“This next song is for the star up above.”

The band begins playing some mediocre number that barely manages to be tolerable. Your brow furrows at the awful request while your lovely couple remains totally oblivious to your confusion. The insidious whispers of paranoia invade your thoughts, but you push them aside as you mentally reach out to Vergil.

Did you…?

His reply is swift with a hint of cold anger.

No. It was him.

You scan the room and instantly spot the man that has provoked the ire of your fierce fella. It’s not hard to pick him out with that shameless leer on his face as he struts towards you. As he gets closer, you feel this distinctive shift in the air around him while the potency of his blood sets you on edge. You can sense his influence seeping through the mortals around him, bending their will in a show of dominance as he finally makes it to your table.  

There’s no mistaking it.

You’re in the presence of another vampire.  

“Hey there, sugar,” he greets, making your skin crawl as his lips curve into an oily smile. “Mind if I join you?”

You give him a quick once over before looking back up with an unimpressed frown. “Would if I could but I’m quite busy at the moment,” you decline coolly, wrapping an arm around the woman as you tousle the man’s hair.

“Aww, c’mon now…can’t a couple of night owls share a drink?” he persists as his eyes flicker over your adventurous couple.

Your eyes squint into an icy glare. “Go get your own and leave me be.”

The meddling mosquito laughs in your face. “Listen, I don’t appreciate you moving in on my turf without the proper courtesy that’s expected of one so young,” he discloses while that oily smile turns more sinister with every word. “But I’m willing to put this lil’ transgression behind us.”

You roll your eyes as he moves in closer, encroaching on your personal space while staring you down. His lecherous gaze makes your blood boil as a foreign presence slams against consciousness. “All you have to do is-” he abruptly gets cut off as his eyes meet with your furious stare.

KNEEL!

Your harsh command assaults his mind with overwhelming force. His knees buckle under the weight of your superior power as he falls to the ground. He looks back up at you in shock, mouth agape and eyes wide as he begins to grovel at your feet. “I’m deeply sorry, mistress…I didn’t realize-”

SILENCE!

The pathetic little tick instantly shuts his gaping mouth. “I know for a fact this is not your turf,” you reveal, slowly raising his chin up with your foot before shoving the tip of your stiletto heel between his lips. “In fact, no one has claim over this place…until tonight.”

His eyes widen in terror as you pierce his filthy damned soul with your scornful gaze. You mentally nudge the young woman beside you to grab the bottle of champagne off of the table. She complies and pops the cork before handing it over with a sweet smile, not even acknowledging the cowering vampire kneeling before you.

“It’s all mine now.”  

Your overpowering dominance keeps him from standing up or speaking out as you pour every last drop of champagne atop of his head. An amused chuckle flits through your mind as the sparkling bubbly dribbles down his mortified face. You wedge the tip of your heel deeper between his teeth, letting the slope of your foot guide a good amount of champagne into his mouth. He gags and tries to spit it out, but you command him to swallow every fizzy drop, knowing that he’ll have to suffer through the unpleasant process of purging it from his body once you’re done with him.  

You order him to clean your foot as soon as the champagne stops flowing, carefully instructing him to only lick the bottom since your stiletto heels are way too expensive for his vile tongue. Your lips curl into a cruel smirk as he laps up all the dirt and grime with a disgusted frown on his face. You take pleasure in his humiliation while handing the empty bottle over to the young man sitting calmly beside you. And when you tire of his submissive cleaning, you decide to give this worthless tick one last word of warning before setting him free.

“I highly suggest you never darken my domain again,” you threaten while molding his will like wet clay, “unless you want to suffer a fate worse than Final Death.”

And with that final command, you release him with a dismissive wave of your hand. He quickly stands up and tries to speak, but something behind you catches him off guard. You see a flicker of blue reflect in his horrified eyes, visibly shaking with unbridled fear as he slowly backs away before making a hasty departure.

You follow his speedy retreat until he’s no longer in sight. “Now, where were we?” you murmur while cupping the lady’s cheek as your foot rubs up and down the young man’s leg. “Ah yes…I remember now.” Your hungry gaze flickers between your adventurous couple before looking at one of the private sitting rooms. Their bodies shiver in delight as you finally close in on your prey with one final question:

“Care to join me somewhere more private?”      

🌹🦇🌹 (Vergil’s POV) 🌹🦇🌹

Vergil knew he was in for an intriguing experience when he agreed to this lascivious date. So far, it’s played out exactly as he expected: you’ve ensnared everyone in the club with your enthralling presence and caught some prey within your alluring web. The detestable appearance of another vampire nearly made him come out of hiding to cut him down. But he stayed his hand and watched as his Evening Star bent the miscreant to her will before ordering him to leave immediately.

Remarkable, he muses, impatiently wringing the collar of his dress shirt while intense yearning flushes through his body. His keen ears pick up your sensual whisper as you ask the enamored young couple to follow you somewhere else. They nod their heads eagerly before wrapping themselves around each of your arms. He hears your voice ringing through his mind like a delicate breeze as you stand up and glance at a vacant room guarded by a doorman.

Better hurry, my love…the show’s about to begin.

Vergil smirks at your playful tone as you glide across the floor with refined grace. He follows close behind, trying his best to remain unseen while waiting for an opening to sneak into the room. Your captivating gaze falls upon the doorman, staring at him with intense focus while muttering under your breath. His eyes glaze over as he stands stock still for a few seconds before snapping out his momentary daze. Then, the doorman smiles politely at your approach and opens the door for you, giving Vergil the opportunity to slink in after you when he walks away.

He quietly shuts the door behind him and creeps among the shadows of the room, checking for any sign of the couple being aware of an uninvited guest. But you have them wrapped around your finger, completely infatuated and fawning over your every move as you lead them to a large couch in the corner. He leans against the opposite wall as you guide the woman to sit down and halt the young man from following suit by gently placing your hand on his chest.        

“Ladies first.”

The young man shivers and nods his head in understanding. He moves to stand by the young woman while you sit beside her, giving Vergil a perfect view as the climax of your hunt begins. You cup her face and bring her in close, only stopping a hair’s breadth from her lips as your hands slide down her neck. She whimpers and tries to lean in for a kiss, but you gently push her to lie down on the couch and continue to caress the curves of her body.

Vergil remains motionless as you lift the young woman’s dress up, spreading her legs to reveal her soaking wet panties. His cock twitches as you settle between her thighs, nipping at her skin while moving lower and lower…then, the woman gasps and her face contorts in pain for only a second before slacking in pleasure as your fangs sink into the prominent vein near her clothed sex.    

“Holy shit,” the young man grunts, palming his bulging crotch as he watches you partake of his lover.

Vergil finds himself mirroring the action, cupping his aching cock while taking in every detail of this depraved moment. The euphoric moans of the young woman as she writhes in pleasure on the couch has him itching to loosen his pants. But he resists the urge to touch himself and just continues to witness the power his Evening Star welds over these mortals.

You withdraw from the woman after drinking a couple more mouthfuls and pin the young man down with your lustful gaze. His eyes widen as you smack your red lips, letting out a pleased hum while drops of blood dribble down your chin. “What the fuck?!” he gasps with realization as you bend down and close the wounds on his lover’s thigh with a swipe of your tongue.

Vergil senses his fear and summons the Yamato at the ready for a quick getaway if needed. But you simply rush over to him in a mere second and place a single finger on his trembling lips. “Shh,” you coo, staring deeply into his eyes as you ease him to a state of total relaxation. His lips curve into a dopey smile as you circle around and wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” you whisper while staring down at the blissed-out woman still laying on the couch.

“Y-yes!” he gasps as your fangs graze his ear. “I love her so much,” he tacks on with genuine fondness, making your lips quirk into an amused smirk while prompting him to look at you once more.

“Be a good boy and feed your mistress.”

The young man turns around and bares his neck for you. He seems to melt in your embrace as you scrape your fangs against the pulsating vein. You peer over his shoulder before biting down, seemingly staring right where Vergil is standing in shadows. The young man grunts in pain as your fangs sink into his flesh, but then he moans as his body quakes in pleasure.

Vergil’s grip on the Yamato tightens as his other hand moves on its own accord, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants while you enjoy your second drink of the night. He quietly hisses as his cock springs free from its tight confines, already engorged and weeping white droplets at the tip. His blatant gaze never wavers from your mesmerizing stare as he finally succumbs to his deepest desire and begins pleasuring himself. He grits his teeth with every pump of his hand, consciously holding back any grunts and growls that try to escape his throat. The intense yearning from earlier overtakes his mind, hardening his cock even more with the thought of you handling mortals like mere playthings.

After a few more moments of silently watching each other, you release the young man’s neck with a pleased hiss. Your tongue closes his wounds with a quick lick before relinquishing him from your grasp. You softly gasp and cover your delighted smirk with a dainty hand as you examine the huge wet spot on the front of his pants.

“Looks like somebody got too excited!” you playfully note while directing him to sit next to his lover on the couch. “But that’s alright,” you sigh as the young man just smiles happily, totally oblivious to coming undone by your sensual bite alone. “I know exactly what you need for round two,” you divulge with a wicked gleam in your eye as you take a seat between them.

Vergil pauses at your mysterious words and quirks his eyebrow when you prick your middle finger with one of your fangs. “Both of you have pleased your mistress greatly,” you gush while holding your hand over to the young woman. “So as a reward…” you murmur as a few droplets of your blood drips between her parted lips.

The young woman lets out an ecstatic cry as your thick and redolent nectar touches her tongue. You let her suckle on your finger for a moment before giving the young man his fair share of his prize. He also cries out at the taste of your blood, eagerly lapping every drop off your finger. The front of his pants grow tight with his reinvigorated arousal while his lover rubs her cunt through her drenched panties.

You get up from the couch and stare at the hedonistic couple with a satisfied smile. “I suggest you fuck each other hard and rough,” you coax with a provocative purr. “Oh! And one more thing,” you quickly add while cupping both of their enraptured faces. “After you both come…” you trail off as they meet your entrancing gaze, remaining still and silent until he hears you whispering your final command.

FORGET.

Vergil sees the light in their eyes glaze over as you slowly retreat from the couch. He swiftly puts his cock away and waits until you’re close enough to pounce on you. His arm encircles your waist before dragging you back into the shadows.  

“You shine so brightly, my Evening Star,” he whispers fondly, earning a quiet giggle and soft whimper from you as he nibbles your ear.

Your head tilts to the side as you look up at him from the corner of your eye. “Enjoy the show, my love?” you inquire with a naughty grin while grinding against his crotch.  

“Immensely.”

“Mmm…I’ll say!” you quietly exclaim with glee while eyeing his straining cock.

You suddenly become a blur of motion before his eyes, completely taking him off guard as he leans back against the wall. His head snaps down to see his pants by his knees and you licking the underside of his cock, pulling a surprised grunt from him while the sound of passionate sex fills the air. You gesture with your head towards the swooning couple, subtly prodding him to watch as they fulfill your request.

Vergil beholds the scene of pure debauchery just a few feet in front of him: torn clothes strewn across the floor surround the couple vigorously making love on the couch. He focuses on the lady bouncing up and down in the young man’s lap, admiring her swaying breasts as she struggles to keep up with her lover’s fast pace. His curious gaze lingers down to where they’re connected, so wet and slippery as they slap against each other over and over. He feels your mouth sink all the way down his cock as both of their cries of shared ecstasy stoke the flames of his desire.  

You waste no time with your usual teasing and start sucking him off with the fervor of a wanton harlot, eagerly bobbing your head in time with the couple’s raunchy pace. Their litany of shameless moans drown out his approving growl as he cups the back of your head and thrusts his hips to meet every downstroke of your mouth. He can feel his cock growing more taut against your tongue while the tightening sensation of imminent release pools below his belly. The hand clenching the Yamato starts to shake as he pursues that blessed peak of pleasure, approaching fast and getting closer and closer and closer…  

The private room’s door abruptly bursts open, startling both him and the randy couple but not you in the slightest. A strange sensation swathes him with a spine-tingling chill as a doorman hurries inside and begins asking the couple to get dressed. Your lips curl into knowing smirk around his cock, still sucking with gusto as his heart begins to pound with the thrill of getting caught.

The doormen turns his head towards your hiding spot in the shadowy corner. Vergil takes the Yamato in both hands and presses its sheath against the back of your head, effectively barring you from making any more movement. But that doesn’t stop your tongue from lavishing his shaft…nor your hands from caressing his innermost thighs. He purses his lips and glares down at you in warning while attempting to remain silently composed.

You look up at his scowling face as your fangs elongate in defiance, grazing the silky skin around the base of his cock. The lone doorman comes closer, peering at the darkened corner as you stroke and squeeze his balls. The preserve thought of coming undone in front of a total stranger makes his pleasure soar sky high, climbing higher and higher until his impending release starts to curl and crest…and despite his best efforts to stubbornly resist, he comes crashing down with a restrained roar at the back of this throat.

Vergil watches as the doorman scratches his head in confusion, seemingly unaware of a devilish intruder emptying his load into your mouth. He doesn’t dare to move with the doorman standing so close, resigning to just enjoy the decadence of such carnal delights as the last tremors of his orgasm leaves him breathless. But the doorman eventually departs with the perplexed couple in tow, finally giving both of you respite from the utterly tense yet highly arousing situation. He glances down at you through half-lidded eyes, noting the white streaks of his seed leaking down your pretty chin with a gratified hum.    

Your lips curve into a pleased grin as you pull his spent cock out of your mouth. He knows that you can’t partake of his seed, but the thought of you spitting it out seems like a waste. So, he sweeps you up into his arms before you find a trash bin and captures your lips with a hungry kiss. You throw your arms around his neck as he pries your mouth open, softly moaning while thick white cum trickles down on his waiting tongue. He swings you around and presses your back against the wall, eagerly drinking every last drop before tearing away from your lush lips with a low growl.

“I have half a mind to punish you for your disobedience,” he scolds with an irritable snarl.    

“Even though you liked it?” you point out with an amused giggle. “You shouldn’t have let me taste you again if you really wanted to berate me for fulfilling your voyeuristic fantasies,” you point out while licking your lips with a satisfied hum. His brow twitches at your response but he doesn’t deny that he enjoyed the rush of adrenaline when the doorman unknowingly looked straight at him. You smile knowingly as he lowers you down to the ground with an indignant huff.

“And don’t worry, my love,” you coo softly as he makes himself presentable again. “I cloaked us both in the shadows of their mind, so we weren’t in any real danger of being caught.”

Vergil pauses as he remembers the strange sensation that overtook him when the doorman showed up. “You’ve failed to mention that you can extend that deceptive power to me,” he mutters with a suspicious squint while zipping up his pants and buckling his belt.

“It must’ve slipped my mind,” you note with a nonchalant shrug and cheeky grin.

A rumbling growl emanates from his throat as he crowds you against the wall with his looming height. “Such insolence will not go unpunished, my dear.”

You nip your lower lip with a single fang as his hand slides up along the slit of your dress before slipping between your legs. He softly growls while stroking you over the flimsy fabric of your panties, utterly pleased by slick essence of your sex dripping down his long fingers. You whimper as he shows off just how wet you are by bringing his hand up close to his face before licking a finger clean. Then, he presses another glistening finger against your lips, silently demanding you to open your mouth while gazing down at you with dark promise in his eyes. You hum indulgently while sucking his finger clean before titillating him with your brazen response to his enticing threat.          

“I can’t wait to see what you have in store for me, my love.”    

I’d like to thank @bettybattaglia for her galaxy brain idea of champagne guzzling and heel licking! And I gotta give a shout to all my fellow judgement sluts in the discord server for encouraging this filth! 😂🙈

Tagging: @drusoona @exsultry @tehrevving @varen-neoraven @shiranyaaww

[wherethingscomebackx]

Top 25 Larry fics of 2019

It’s that time again!

You may be familiar with these lists:

Top 25 Larry fics of 2016

Top 25 Larry fics of 2017

Top 25 Larry fics of 2018

As always, I read a lot of fic and the majority of it is Larry. I like making lists and I like Larry so I thought I’d do some minimal research of the top 25 larry fics published/completed in 2019 in order of least to most kudos (with links). All of these fics are top notch so you should all check them out! 

25.) Foolishy Laying Our Hearts on the Table by @runaway-train-works (11k)

“You think Harry wants that?”

“Dunno. Maybe. Wanna make him happy.” Harry takes advantage of the red light he’s pulled up to turn and look properly at Louis’ face. He’s not even looking in Harry’s direction though, focused instead on something out of his side window, head drooped, mindlessly playing with the string of his hoodie between his fingers, lost in his own world somewhere. For some reason, it makes Harry’s spine straighten.

“Because he’s your best mate?” Harry questions carefully.

“He’s my boyfriend.”

He couldn’t have heard him right. “What?”

Louis releases a deep breath, still not turning around. Harry wonders who he thinks he’s talking to right now. “He’s so pretty. Want to kiss him all day long. And buy him a big house and give him presents and marry him.”

Or

The one where Harry is in love with his best friend Louis but doesn't think he stands a chance until some wisdom teeth and a rather unusual confession might just change his mind.

24.) Tainted Saints And Velvet Vices by @toomanydreamers (126k)

A self-fulfilling Hogwarts AU in which Louis is new to seventh year and Harry is the resident devil-may-care Slytherin set to make his entire experience a living misery. Due to less than favourable circumstances they're forced to forge an unwilling, tentative relationship for their own survival. Repressed emotions, decidedly unromantic ballroom dancing, Triwizard Tournament tasks, creative jinxes and twilight flying above the Forbidden Forest ensue.

23.) all we can do is keep breathing by @avocadolouie (310k)

“Harry, I-I’m so sorry…” Louis stutters out, trying to keep his voice level and even, to portray a depiction of strength, but with the way Harry is looking at him, staring at him like he has a personal passage way straight to Louis’ soul, it’s so hard, nearly impossible.

That simple opening phrase, that short introductory acknowledgement that is often rushed out so easily, painlessly, at a safe distance. Giving a doctor the ability to portray empathy without true emotion, without feeling the full brunt and sheer force of the underlying pain itself.

But Louis feels it, he feels the crushing agony laced behind the phrase, he feels the weight of the painful words slipping from his lips, the cause and effect that the three-word expression holds. The distantly empty “I’m so sorry” that doctors throw out in self-preservation, isn’t at all empty for him. Louis recognizes it, he understands it, he feels it.

--

a fated story of two broken and battered boys who barely survived the unimaginable and how the love of one little brave girl defies all the odds and somehow puts them back together.

22.) Raise a Glass to the Four of Us by @2tiedships2 (25k)

Louis stared at his luggage.

Well. Apparently not his luggage, because the clothing he was looking at currently was a: worth more than everything he currently possessed, b: not his size at all, and c: more suited for a fancy ass lawyer than a holiday in NYC with his best mates.

“Ooh, nice loafers,” Niall said as he pulled one out of the suitcase. “I love the rainbows.”

“Okay,” Liam began. “What do you want to do first? Eat, shop for new clothes, or spend hours on the phone with the airline?”

Louis continued to stare at the luggage.

21.) You Have to Retreat to Advance by @2tiedships2 (18k)

“What am I going to do, Perrie? I can’t go on this retreat by myself. My boss literally said he wants to meet my omega.” Harry paused. “Okay, not literally but he definitely expects me to be bringing him.”

“Don’t people go on these things by themselves?” Perrie asked.

Harry shrugged. “Of course but that’s not the point.”

“What’s the point?”

“My boss is expecting to meet my omega! I don’t have an omega!”

“Is this a paying gig?” Perrie asked.

“You mean paying an omega to spend the weekend with me? I’m sure the resort has nice amenities. Does that count?”

“I take that as a no,” Perrie said with an eye roll. “It’s okay, Louis might be willing to do it for free.”

“Who’s Louis?”

Or the one where Harry is expected to bring his longterm omega to the company's mountain retreat. Since he hadn't told anyone that they'd broken up months ago, he now has to find someone willing to play the part.

20.) A Darker Shade of Love by LittleSpoonStyles94 (750k)

Louis is a 30 year old multi-billionaire with a very dark past. He is violent and is a sadist with a taste for pain. Harry Styles is a 19 year old student who sets out to London after being kicked out by his homophobic father to follow his dreams. He wants to go to the best University to study but he needs a lot of money so he starts to work as a part time stripper at a gay club to support his studies and his life. The club he works at, Garland's, is part owned by Louis Tomlinson. When they meet, its life changing for the both of them.

19.) You Still Make Sense to Me by @amories (37k)

Harry, Louis, and their family navigate life together through the years.

18.) Like Water Over Fire (Like Water On Fire) by @mcssymon (119k)

“I’m sorry your highness, I think I misheard you, did you really say that you are hoping to meet your husband?” Oh god, Louis panicked. Was Prince Harry gay? Was he even allowed to be gay? Surely he wouldn’t be allowed to have a selection from a group of men, right?

Prince Harry looked partly like he wanted to laugh, but also very, very nervous about what he had just admitted, “Yes, sir, you heard correctly”

Or Prince Harry has 46 men and 13 weeks to find the husband of his dreams, Louis has a limited amount to time to live out a royal fantasy. They might just be exactly what the other needs.

17.) waiting for the tides to meet by @nauticalleeds (59k)

Louis lets out a deep breath, thinking about Harry’s soulmate. Thinking about how Harry’s soulmate is probably as beautiful as Harry, some person that Louis cannot compare to, and how the universe has chosen them to be Harry’s. Fuck the universe. “Fuck you,” he calls out to the universe. He’s aware of how crazy he sounds.

Maybe he is crazy, with how he’s falling for Harry. And fuck that, too.

Soulmate AU. Everyone is born with heterochromia — one eye is their own eye colour, while the other is the colour of their soulmate's. It's only when they meet their soulmate for the first time that their own eyes match properly. After a hazy night at a frat party, Louis wakes up to blue eyes and the shocking realization that he had met his soulmate, without any sober recollection. Seven years pass where Louis comes to terms with the fact that he'll never know who his soulmate is. Then one fated summer, a beautiful green-eyed photographer arrives at Louis' workplace, with promises of endless laughter and a familiar feeling in Louis' heart.

Featuring a lovely cup of OT5, a road trip down the coast, and a scene where Harry eats a whole head of lettuce. Don't ask why.

16.) Call Answered by @vondrostes (249k)

The day after his 27th birthday, Harry Styles attempts suicide. Louis is flown to his bedside to unravel the mystery of why he did it after a flash drive is found with a note attached, addressed to Louis. On it are a collection of 78 songs, all written for different dates from their past.

15.) Counterbalance by @louandhazaf (44k)

Harry Styles loves two things: teaching ballet and racing motorcycles. Those two worlds collide when his greatest rival on the track, Louis “Tommo” Tomlinson brings his tiny siblings to Harry’s class.

14.) Everywhere and Nowhere by @2tiedships2 (16k)

Niall took a seat and said, "Apparently Louis' downstairs neighbor is a fan of giving Louis creepy gifts. Maybe I should go introduce myself and tell him that Louis actually prefers food."

"What has he given you?" Liam asked.

Louis shrugged as it were no big deal. "There was a rabbit's foot keychain on the door a little after he left from introducing himself and there was a small teddy bear sitting by my door tonight. Obviously I can't prove it's from him, but they seem to have his scent. I could be wrong though."

"Wow," Liam said, looking deep in thought. "That's old school."

"What's old school?" Niall asked. "Giving creepy gifts?"

"I've never known an alpha to do it, to be honest, but he's courting you."

Louis couldn't contain his look of disbelief directed at Liam. "He's courting me. Like some sort of romantic shit they'd do in the 1800s or something?"

13.) Swallow The Knife by whoknows (76k)

“You came,” Louis says, still breathless, clinging to Harry, uncaring that his sweat is getting all over Harry’s presumably clean dad shirt, or that he’s making Harry hold up all of his weight.

“Of course I came,” Harry says. He shifts, one arm curled underneath Louis’ arse, the other spreading wide in the middle of Louis’ back. “If I ignored you every time you pissed me off we would have stopped being friends a long time ago.”

Louis already knows that, of course. It doesn’t do anything to stop the pleased squirm in his belly every time Harry proves it, though. They fight like nobody’s business, both of them too stubborn to pull their punches when they’re arguing, and it used to get them in trouble, but they always make up.

Adrenaline makes Louis loose-lipped, and they both know it. He tightens his arms around Harry’s neck, buries his face in his hair. “I missed you,” he confesses, quiet. “Doesn’t feel the same up there by myself.”

12.) and oh, all of your saturdays could end up in woe by ihavetoomuchfreetime (70k)

a fic in which louis' in a long-term relationship with an abusive asshole, niall, zayn and liam are so far but not really, and harry is that all too friendly guy who works in sainsbury's.

11.) thinking about the t-shirt you slept in by @absoloutenonsense (52k)

Harry's alpha fraternity donates to a local thrift shop (because of Liam's latent crush on a cute beta in his lecture). Louis' financial situation (and confusing omega instincts) lead him to make some interesting fashion purchases. Lots of pizza, feelings, and not-really-lying.

10.) Consequences by @allwaswell16 (78k)

Two years ago Harry let his powerful family come between him and the love of his life, something he deeply regrets. Louis has tried to move on from their devastating break up. Sometimes, he even thinks he has. It only takes one moment to freeze them back in time.

An amnesia au

9.) Strawberries & Cigarettes by @dimpled-halo (76k)

Harry looks up and immediately freezes. Next to Ms. Archie stands the boy from just the other day. The boy with the leather jacket and chipped black nails, that might or might not be sketched in the very book Harry has just placed on the table in front of him. The leather jacket is missing today, probably because they aren’t allowed as part of their required uniform attire, but Harry can still see the fading black nail polish on his nails, and eyeliner around his eyes. Harry’s mouth goes a little dry. This boy is so intriguing to him.

“Ye-yes, Ms. Archie?” Harry tries to play it cool, but he’s almost positive that his cheeks are burning red, and he’s relieved neither of them can tell how fast his heart is beating in his chest.

The boy seems to also recognize Harry, because his lips curve into a knowing smirk.

“Harry is at the top of his class. He’s your best bet at getting familiar with things around here.” She explains.

Louis nods, his smirk still very prominent on his face. “Thank you Ms. Archie. I’ll be sure to take advantage of young Harold here.”

*

Summary: Two stories, eleven years, and the two boys that never stopped loving each other.

8.) Pain makes people change by Deidei (113k)

An organization called Canis Lupus existed solely for changing humans imprisoned in their wolf form back to their human form. Some people after experiencing some traumatic event can only ‘’protect’’ themselves from the pain by forgetting everything. To do that, to feel safe, they shift into their wolf form.

Which they'll be stuck in forever should no one intervene.

Louis Tomlison went through a traumatic experience at the age of twelve in which he lost his mother, to make the pain go away he shifted into a wolf and fled. He survived in the wild as a wolf for five years until Canis Lupis caught him... Though he wasn't alone, he had a pup at his side.

7.) Pretty Please (With Sugar On Top) by @angelichl (113k)

Harry is a sugar baby omega who cons rich alphas for a living. Louis is a rich alpha with too much self-control.

6.) Enemies with benefits by ssii8 (267k)

Where Harry is captain of basketball team and Louis is captain of football team and they hate each other. But somehow this doesn't stop them from having sex.

And everything is perfect until they start to feel something more.

5.) Ready To Fall by whoknows (21k)

“Ninety and rising,” Nick says triumphantly, as though making Harry’s heartbeat pick up by thrusting an obscenely attractive person in front of his face is any kind of success. “Louis Tomlinson has just walked into our control room and suddenly our dear Harry Styles has lost all ability to speak. Could this be some kind of strange coincidence?”

“I hate you,” Harry hisses, forcing his eyes back into Nick’s direction, uncaring that the mic must have picked it up. “I thought we agreed that you were going to play fair.”

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Nick denies, except he’s holding up a picture of Louis’ face now, sharp cheekbones prominent, soft lashes nearly sweeping against his cheeks as he looks down, and his fucking mouth –

“A hundred and two!” Nick crows, all but clapping his hands together in glee. “The highest it’s ever been!”

“To be fair, I did bend over the desk on purpose,” Louis’ voice comes crackling in the headphones. Harry practically breaks his neck whipping his head around at the sound of it, gaping at him through the glass panel. “You can’t really blame him for getting a little excited about that, can you?”

4.) Close to Nowhere by @angelichl (34k)

“I will kill you in your sleep,” Louis threatened as he quickly stepped out of his jeans.

“I don’t think that would work very well baby, seeing as you talk to dead people all the time.”

“I’ll kill you in your sleep and ignore your ghost. And don’t call me that.”

Louis and Harry are psychics who kind of hate each other. They go to Tennessee to investigate a haunting.

3.) Play Pretend, Find a Friend? by @angelichl (40k)

They had to pull back for air. Louis surveyed the guy’s face, in awe of his blown pupils and sharp jawline, the way their shared spit glistened on his lips.

“Hi,” he breathed. He blinked, and came back to himself a little bit, blushing at his own boldness. “Sorry. Is this okay?”

The stranger removed his right hand from the curve of Louis’ waist in order to cup his jaw, tilting it up to the angle he desired. He pressed their lips together, murmuring, “Definitely.” And then he kissed harder.

When Louis sees his ex-boyfriend kissing a random girl at a party, he acts out of blind jealousy. He kisses the first guy he can find. It turns into a thing.

INSPIRED BY CLOUDS.

2.) Let Me Feel Your Heartbeat by @angelichl (34k)

Harry is 98% sure Louis hates him. So he feels like his bewilderment is justified when the omega offers to help him through his rut.

1.) All My Colours by IceQueenRia (267k)

Green… yellow… red. Red! RED!!!

Some people were born Dominant and others submissive. Sixteen year old Louis Tomlinson was a submissive and was proud to be so… until he was forced to his knees for the first time. The man before him was every subs nightmare, an abusive Dom, the kind who didn’t believe in the colour ‘red’ unless it was in the form of blood.

There were others, but Louis was the ‘favourite’ and he was the one the Dom liked to ‘play with’ the most. In fact, when the rescue team arrived, Louis was the one currently providing ‘service’ to the Dom.

Or

Louis, Zayn and Niall are abused subs. Liam Payne is their devoted new Guidance Counsellor who just wants to make Niall smile and hear Zayn speak. As for Louis, he knows his guidance won’t be enough to help the boy heal. No, Louis Tomlinson needs something very special and very specific. He needs Harry Styles.

[gravelyhumerus]

Criminal Minds College AU

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Title: “I may just take your breath away”

Relationship: Jemily 

Summary:

Emily Prentiss, college sophomore, absolutely does not have a crush on the girl across the hall.  

Slow-burn Jemily college AU where they live across the hall and despite all odds, the universe pushes them together. AKA they’re silly gay babies who pine after each other for months. 

Read it on AO3

Tumblr:  One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, (bonus scene), Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Epilogue

“Come in, it’s open!” Emily Prentiss yelled out over her music blasting out of the laptop on her desk. She was listening to her pregame playlist, which was chock full of throwbacks, middle-school jams and of course, The Killers to keep things interesting.

Derek Morgan pushed open her dorm room door and waltzed in. He had a pair of light blue jeans on, held up by a brown belt, with a white t-shirt on top. He jumped on top of Emily’s slightly-too-high bed, and bounced as he grinned at her. Derek was many things, shy was definitely not one of them.

“You look hot,” Emily said, with as much sarcasm as she could manage, looking him up and down. She could tell he dressed up.

“You know it, princess.”

Rifling through his backpack, he grinned as he pulled out two blue college-branded metal water bottles, filled with what was probably not water at all.

“I made us sangria!”

Emily laughed, then spun back around in her desk chair. She still needed to finish her makeup. She had her foundation and eyebrows done, but she needed to focus as she applied her eyeliner.

“Did you just mix some juice into the wine?” She asked, taking the bottle from him, having a sip of the fruity liquid.

“Yup! There’s going to be a keg there, but I wanted to give us options.”

Emily laughed before focusing on her mascara wand gliding across her lower eyelashes, trying to finish up so they could start preing for the party. She wasn’t quite dressed yet either, still wearing her class jeans and not her going out jeans (there was an important distinction between these that mostly involved whether or not she could wear them with a belt.) Morgan was about five minutes earlier than she expected. Moreover, the boy had only sprung the invitation to the party during their lab that afternoon.

As much as she hated to admit it, Derek was basically 90% of Emily’s non-academic social life, the second year boy already very well connected due to his football scholarship, letting him in on all of the good parties. Unfortunately that also meant for Emily that he would spring themed parties like anything but clothes, or no cups allowed on her with absolutely no heads up most weekends.

Emily will not wear a tote bag as a skirt again if she can help it.

Despite the excessive drinking and mixed bag of party attendees, Emily genuinely enjoyed the boy’s company. Anyways, he was the best beer-pong partner that she’s ever had.

“Can I hop on aux?” He asked, leaning over her computer before she could even protest.

“Sure,” she replied, knowing he was already on his own Spotify account and putting on his playlist titled ‘FOR THE BOYS and emily’ that he found hilarious. She knew she could get him to sing along to the Mamma Mia! (2008) soundtrack once he was a few shots in, but for now she resigned herself to wordless EDM.

He sat on her desk, bobbing his head along to the beat.

Emily reached into the bottom drawer of her desk and pulled out a smallish bottle of vodka and two shot glasses, with their college’s crest etched into the glass. For a school that denounced drinking-culture, they had a shocking amount of merch for sale that encouraged it.

She filled each to the line, and slid one towards her friend.

“Bottoms up,” she said, as they cheersed the foul tasting liquid. Morgan grinned and winked at her before shooting it back with the confidence that only a nineteen year old could have.

Vodka still made her queasy, but being underage meant that the college students would take what they could get. Morgan’s senior friends would boot alcohol for them for an extra five bucks, but only every few weeks.

The one thing about the states that Emily still couldn’t wrap her head around was the backwards alcohol policy. Almost everywhere else on earth she would already be legally drinking. Hell, when she was 16 she was passed out in a ditch in rural England, drunk off her ass on legally acquired beer. Even now, if they drove north of the border, Emily could be off to the bars, no questions asked. America was absurd.

“How was the rest of your day?” Emily asked him as she stood up, digging through her dirty laundry to find her other pair of jeans. She tossed aside her fuzzy pjs, a bra and an assortment of band tees but her jeans must’ve been at the bottom. She needed to do laundry but was ripe out of quarters.

“Eh,” he made a face, “I had to finish up that quiz for psych, but honestly I just needed to catch up on some readings. I had like fifty pages of a badly scanned book from like a hundred years ago to annotate.”

“Reading? In this economy?” Emily snarked at him, still rooting through the bin. She knew her blue jeans were here somewhere.

“Well I know you can’t read,” he replied in a haughty tone, “doesn’t mean the rest of us have to remain unenlightened!”

“Ha-ha.”

There they were, right at the bottom of the bin. She changed right then, with Morgan politely averting his eyes, despite the fact that both have seen just about everything in the year or so that they’ve been acquainted.

No, they didn’t hook up or anything, it wasn’t like that.

It was the strange phenomenon that only could happen in college where you get really close really fast. Emily’s RA had explained it to their first-year floor, likening it to soldiers in the war (Emily wasn’t sure if the metaphor was kosher, but it was apt.). Young adults first starting out in the world, free from their family supervision and previous lives, cling on to those around them for stability. The RA explained this as in a cautionary tale, explaining that this can lead to high emotions, to fights, and… a bit more.

This talk led into their floor-cest talk, which was apparently required in every co-ed dorm at their school. Emily was the first to point out the heteronormativity in that policy. Floor-cest, for the uninitiated, was the concept of hooking up with someone on your floor in the dorm. It was formally discouraged by residence life staff. It was easy to have meaningless sex, harder when you have sex with someone you live down the hall from. Things could get messy.

Emily and Derek got this talk on move in day, both sitting cross-legged on the floor of their common room as their RA, a bubbly girl named Carol, explained the fundamentals of dorm life. Emily has been dropped off by her mother’s driver, who helped her unload her things.

Emily was still reeling from being surrounded by happy families, of crying parents and bitter that her mother was too busy to even send her own daughter off to school. Not that Emily wanted her there or anything, but the gesture would have been nice.

She remembered the startling moment when Derek walked straight into her room and offered his hand, introducing himself to his new neighbour.

They shared a wall, the co-ed bathroom down the hall, and most of their free time for their first year at college.

He had assumed that the driver, Paul who was one of Emily’s favourites out of her mother’s staff, was Emily’s father, which started things off on an awkward note. Soon she was swept up in a whirlwind of his family: his mom and sisters who insisted that Emily pose for photos of Derek and ‘his new dorm friend.’

A year later, Emily and Morgan were basically siblings. Emily didn’t actually have any siblings, but after going to Chicago for thanksgiving with the Morgan family, she was pretty sure she had officially been adopted.

Last year, they had a much nicer dorm, one of the newer ones with big windows and nice common spaces. This year they were both living in the oldest residence, a beautiful red brick building, covered with ivy, but the inside was all painted this gross beige, and the paint would chip off whenever Emily tried to hang her posters. There was also no air conditioning, the showers didn’t get too hot and the kitchen smelt like eggs. It was definitely a downgrade, but at least Morgan was on the same floor as her again.

Morgan had lucked out and gotten a corner room with tons of windows, and Emily was right next to the bathroom and could hear when anyone flushed.

After donning the jeans and a black tank top, Emily grabbed her leather jacket and they were ready to go.

“Another shot?” Derek asked, grinning at her mischievously.

“Of course,” Emily said. “Where are we even going anyways?”

“Well, you remember David, the TA from our psych lab? His housemates are throwing a party in their backyard. I heard there was going to be a DJ!”

“David Rossi?” Emily said incredulously, “How did you swing an invite to that?”

“I can’t reveal all of my secrets, you know that pretty lady.”

Emily scoffed. It was probably through their mutual friend Aaron Hotchner, who despite not being much of a partier, was very in the loop about the happenings on campus.

“Did you invite you know who?” Derek asked, a bit too casually as Emily locked her door.

Emily refused to bite.

“She definitely has better things to do than hang out with the likes of us.”

---

“I’m a criminology major,” Emily repeated, the exasperation in her voice palatable.

The boy, who was on the rugby team as she already learned, had asked her what her major was. He misheard her and began asking her how she likes studying biology.

The music was loud and the boy was clearly wasted off his ass. She was pretty sure she saw him do a keg stand in the kitchen earlier.

Emily took another sip of her drink, keeping it close to her chest. She looked around. They were only five minutes off campus at a decent-sized student house. The room was close to being at capacity, the old home creaking under the weight of dozens of students crammed into the living room. Music blared on a strangely impressive speaker system. The party was at its peak in the backyard, and was probably only an hour from being shut down by the cops if it got much louder.

Emily had carefully positioned herself next to the open window, enjoying the slight breeze as the body heat was making the old house steamy with humidity. This also happened to be the location of the bong, but she accepted the trade-off.

Derek was currently playing king’s cup, a game Emily refuses to play, since last time she got roped into it she lost miserably. She was forced to drink the king’s cup: a mixture of shitty beer, whiskey, cider wine and whole cream from the fridge, as she had been a bit too slow with bouncing the ball into the red solo cup. Derek held her hair back as she puked off the porch that night.

Never again.

Emily squinted as a few people she recognized walked into the room. It was only a month into classes, so she really hadn’t had the opportunity to get to know the new random assortment of people in her building, lectures and in her general orbit but she was pretty sure she was starting to recognize some faces.

Entering the party was the blonde from the end of the hallway who always complimented Emily on her outfits when she passed and had the most colourfully decorated dorm in the entire building. ‘Penelope G.’ read her name tag pinned to her door in their RA’s loopy handwriting.

Next to her was a younger boy that she had seen in the cafeteria with Penelope before, and while Emily wasn’t that good at identifying ages, he definitely looked a bit too young to be at college. He was tall, skinny and had a mop of unruly brown hair. He was also wearing a sweater to a house party, which was a major beginners mistake. He looked around nervously.

A few seconds later, the door closed, only dumping an assortment of other boys into the already packed house.

Emily let out a breath she didn’t know she held, as she found herself hoping that Garcia’s other friend might have been joining her that night.

Derek had teased her already about the girl across the hall. Jennifer Jareau. “My friends call me JJ,” she had said. Second year varsity soccer player and communications major. The girl Derek was convinced that Emily had a crush on.

JJ was the kind of girl who propped her door open during orientation week and always waved at Emily when she walked down the hall.

She did not have a crush. She barely knew anything about her besides that she was blonde, athletic and was always smiling. Both had been so busy since school had started, and seemed to have completely opposite schedules that they hadn’t really gotten to really connect.

Whenever Emily was coming back to their floor, JJ always seemed to be leaving. And vice versa. Somehow they were on exact opposite schedules. Probably since JJ was a varsity soccer player with early morning practise, and Emily was a bit of a night owl (that was a polite way of saying insomniac procrastinator perfectionist.)

She seemed to hang out with Garcia around residence, Emily having spotted the two getting coffee or studying in the library together occasionally, hence Emily’s hopes that Garcia may have JJ in tow that evening.

JJ was also definitely, one hundred percent, completely straight. Fairy lights and Polaroid pictures on her walls straight. She even had a high school sweetheart that might survive the turkey dumping season. Emily didn’t know his name but JJ said the key word early on in the year: boyfriend.

Emily turned back to the boy in front of her, who was describing, in detail, how the stock market worked, without realizing that Emily was not paying attention at all.

He was quite conventionally attractive, with mussed curly hair and broad shoulders. He obviously was interested in her—or rather interested in talking at her and potentially sleeping with her—that despite herself, Emily decided to slot him into her roster for that evening.

Emily considered herself a reluctant bisexual. Women could make her heart skip a beat just by looking in her direction, and men could get it when the situation was right and she didn’t have any other options. The second half of this pleased her mother to no end, as when young fourteen year old Emily Prentiss had decided to come out to her mother—at one of their rare dinners together—she watched her mother grit her teeth and tell her to keep that to herself. Her mother had eventually accepted this part of her daughter’s life, but only under the assumption that Emily would eventually end up with a man, and keep the rest to herself.

Emily looked around the room and wondered if she was going to have any other options that evening besides the very talkative boy.

Excusing herself from the company of…Matthew, she thinks was his name, she tries to find Derek, who had disappeared into the kitchen. Emily weaved through the crowd, steering past a couple making out in the corner.

She turned the corner and found Derek filling his cup with more beer from the keg. He grinned up at her and did the same for her.

“I hate beer,” Emily said to him, grimacing at the scratchy taste of the fermented barley in her red solo cup.

“Suck it up buttercup, you’re in college. You also complained about the juice from earlier.”

“Yeah well, watering down eleven percent wine is as bad as this five percent crap.”

“It did taste a lot better,” he agreed. “Who was that guy?”

Emily rolled her eyes.

“Matthew attempted to explain macroeconomics to me.”

“Oh god, is that what men are like out there?” He asked. “Guess you’re stuck with me tonight.”

“Lucky me.”

“Pong?” He asked, gesturing towards the row of tables set up in the backyard, through the open door and passed the crowd milling about near the speakers. The game seemed to be wrapping up, as the two teams shook hands and reset the cups to their original positions.

“Always.”

They found their spot at one of the tables across from their new opponents: Penelope and her very young looking friend.

“Penelope Garcia?” Derek grinned, recognizing the girl from their floor and walking up to her for a hug. Their rooms were facing each other, and they had apparently gotten the chance to get to know each other.

She grinned and hugged him, clearly a lot more sober than him having only arrived minutes earlier. There seemed to be a lot of hugging at house parties, Emily discovered when she moved to America, acquaintances became close friends once alcohol was involved.

She had bright pink glasses and a matching dress, with bright artfully done make-up highlighting her large smile. Emily knew that she was a CompSci major and had loaded her dorm room desk with monitors and the largest computer set-up that Emily had seen in her life.

“Derek, my love,” Penelope replied, gushing over Emily’s friend in an unexpected, but not unsurprising way. “Fancy meeting you here! And Emily! Have you two met my fine young friend here, Spencer?”

She gestured to the boy, who waved awkwardly.

“Hi, I’m Spencer Reid,” he said.

“He’s like a boy-genius or something. He already has a degree in mathematics and he’s currently working on his second degree in engineering. Isn’t that très cool? We met at the club fair last week.”

“I’m double majoring in philosophy,” he added.

“How old are you kid?” Morgan asked him, quick to the punch.

“Uh- sixteen?” Spencer seemed to ask, shrinking into himself a bit. “I skipped a couple of grades.”

He had a pair of glasses perched on his nose, a brown sweater with a white shirt collar poking through and had tucked his brown hair behind his ears. He was still taller than Penelope, but the smattering of acne and wide eyes made it clear that he was very much a kid.

“More than a couple!” Morgan exclaimed.

He shrugged.

“Are you in intro to logic with Williams?” Emily asked, realizing that she had recognized him from somewhere.

“Yes, I am. Though I find his repeated chess metaphors a touch reductive.”

“You’re right about that. Like, we get it Willy, you play chess. Big whoop,” Emily said, then introduced herself.

He smiled at her, slightly less awkwardly this time but with a touch more confusion.

“And this is Derek Morgan,” Penelope piped in, “the most gorgeous football player I know.”

“Do you know any other football players?” Spencer asked.

“Now you hush!” She admonished him. “We have a game to play.”

“Do you two have something to drink?” Derek asked them, moving back towards their side of the long fold-up table, which was crudely painted in their schools colours.

Emily took a sip of her beer, wondering if the boy should be drinking.

Penelope babbled about how it was Spencer’s first college party, and how she was so excited that it was this one because look at the pretty string lights decorating the backyard and the fact that there was a keg, like in the movies.

Smiling at her new neighbour, Emily thought that this might also be Penelope's first college party.

Derek returned with a cup of water for Spencer, and some beer for Penelope. Spencer seemed relieved at the gesture, smiling as he took a sip. Emily marvelled at her friend's kindness, despite what anyone said about drinking culture on campuses either way, it was tough to attend a party and not drink, putting his drink in a matching red cup gave him the appearance of participation.

“Do we all know the rules?” Derek asked.

“The question you should ask,” Emily said, “Is if they’re willing to play by your rules.”

Emily had discovered that this game, depending on the people you were playing with, had radically different rules. While the premise of the game remained the same: there were six cups on each side of the table, into which you threw ping pong balls and whenever you got a ball in a cup, that cup was then taken out of the picture until there were no cups left. Depending on who you were playing with, the cups were filled with water or beer (Emily hated when they had beer in them, it make things sticky and it was very unsanitary), there were specific rules to what defined an airball, when one could get balls back, when you could call island and what was a permissible trick shot.

“Ha ha Prentiss,” Derek said to her, rolling the ping pong ball in his hands. “I wanted to know if they had played before.”

“Oh I’ve played before,” Penelope said, “and I am unbeatable.”

She waggled her fingers in a gesture that implied magic was involved.

“It’s simple physics,” Spencer added, “I’ve memorized the rules and common approaches. We’ll be more than fine. ”

“Ok pretty boy, let’s see what you’ve got. Eye to eye?”

Looking into each other’s eyes, rather than at their targets, the two boys aimed at the cups, with only Reid’s making it in.

“What the fuck Morgan,” Emily exclaimed as Penelope and Spencer whooped, “what even was that throw?”

With the other team having won the privilege of starting first, Emily was forced to toss her ball towards Penelope, who took it with a grin.

She threw first, missing the table entirely.

“Air ball!” Derek announced, leaping forward and waving his hands in front of the cups on their side, the rules granting him the ability to defend their territory.

Spencer frowned, apparently perturbed by this turn of events. He stuck out his tongue, aimed, and launched the ball, hitting Morgan right in the chest. The ball bounced off of it and fell straight down into the cup.

Derek’s draw dropped. Spencer and Penelope whooped in excitement.

“Derek, how did you lose us that cup?” Emily whined, pulling one of their cups to the side. One point to Spencer.

Derek, who had something to prove, lined up his shot. He gazed at his targets with the focus of a sniper, dunked the ball into one of their cups, dousing it with water, and rolled it in his hands, giving it a bit more weight. He aimed and fired off a quick shot into the centre-left cup. It spun around in the cup, floating above the water, but fell in. If the other team were crafty, they would have blown into the cup and Derek would have lost the point, but Emily sighed in relief when she realized that despite their first point, they didn’t know the rules well enough to beat the current reigning beer champs.

It was Emily’s turn. She took a gulp of her beer—she would always swear she was better when she was drunk because she didn’t think too hard about it—and threw. It neatly fell into the back right cup, scoring them two points for that round.

“Balls back!” Derek roared in delight.

Penelope tossed them, and the game continued.

They sunk one more shot on their turn. 3-1.

Penelope got another cup, Spencer missed. 3-2.

Derek’s ball bounced out, Emily sank hers. 4-2.

Only minutes later, after playing at breakneck speed, there were three cups left on the table and Derek and Emily were quite drunk, with Penelope not far behind. Reid, still very sober, was matching the duo with intense concentration.

It was his throw, with two cups left until his victory. He shots carefully, sinking it without a splash.

Derek and Emily had one cup to go. He went first, sending one barreling towards the cup. It hit the rim and instead of going in, it bounced towards Emily, who leaped forward and grabbed it before it fell off the table.

“Trick shot!” She yelled. Derek could try again, but only if he does it in an inventive way. At the frat house they spent a lot of time in first year, the only acceptable trick shot (under this house’s rules) was bouncing the ball off a poster of Obama. This time, Derek takes an empty cup, puts the ball in, and uses the cup to aim.

Somehow, it went in.

They leap into the air, yelling with delight. But they hadn’t won yet. The other team still had a redemption shot.

“How ya feeling kid?” Derek taunted, “Wanna give up now, save yourself the embarrassment?”

“Not a chance.”

He squinted at the table, lining up his shot with precision. With his left hand he licked his finger, sticking it up in the air like golfers do to measure the wind. Emily wasn't sure if this was a joke, something to psych Derek out, or something the boy was genuinely able to do. He frowned, seeming to ponder the information.

He aimed. He tossed it. He sunk the redemption shot.

They were in overtime.

“You can do it princess,” Derek told her, watching her with utmost intensity. Emily adjusted her stance, chugging back the last of that glass of beer, feeling the alcohol with greater focus than before.

She glanced around at the other team, but out of the corner of her eye she caught a familiar face looking at her: Jennifer Jareau from residence. Her not crush.

She was looking at her. Watching her play.

A swell of nervousness flooded up through her lungs, and she forced it out by huffing a breath.

She needed another drink. Moreover, she needed to focus.

Emily threw it. If it made it in, then they won. If she missed, Spencer and Garcia had another shot at redemption. They couldn’t lose this, not now, not in front of… uh, everyone. She was definitely not thinking about JJ in this situation. That would be something a frat boy thought about. She didn’t want to win beer pong to impress some girl, she wanted to win because she had pride.

The ball sailed through the air, Emily held her breath. It caught the lip of the cup, teetered. A splash announced that they had won.

Thank god.

With a whoop, realizing what they had done, Emily and Derek roared with joy, jumping into each other and hugging in their celebration. A few onlookers clapped, noticing how close the game had been.

They pulled apart and reached out their hands to their opponents.

“Great game,” Emily said, shaking Spencer's hand, “Really.”

He grinned despite his loss.

“Honestly I understand the principles, it’s simple parabolas and high-school level physics,” he frowned, “Unfortunately, I need to work on translating those parabolas into the real world.”

“We’ll work on it Spence,” Garcia grinned, shaking Emily’s hand while smiling at her younger friend.

Emily realized that in their celebration, Derek had spilled quite a bit of beer onto Emily’s sleeve and down the side of her shirt and it was currently dripping onto her boots. Emily sighed, handing her friend her cup.

“I’ve got beer all over me,” Emily sighed, “Get me a refill? I’m going to try to find a bathroom.”

Derek nodded and turned back to their new friends, chatting about how impressed he was with their game.

Emily felt a bit sticky, feeling the beer coat her bare arm. Walking back into the house, she glanced at the kitchen sink trying to see if there was any paper towel or something there, but no luck. The sink was full of dishes, the counters covered in assorted empties and cups, without a dishcloth in sight. Not wanting to rifle through their drawers, she made her way towards the staircase.

There was a couple making out on the staircase, which was not something Emily would do herself. It seemed a bit precarious since alcohol was involved, but, to each their own, she thought. Emily opened a couple of the doors upstairs before discovering one of the most disgusting washrooms she’d ever seen.

There was only one thing in the shower: dawn dish soap. The boys who lived here must use that for their bodies. Emily shuddered. On the sink were some toothbrushes, razors and some floss, but for some reason, no soap. Emily found a roll of toilet paper on the floor (ew), and wadded it up to try to reduce the wet spot on her side and hopefully from smelling like a brewery when she returned to residence.

For a moment, Emily found herself gazing at herself in the mirror, feeling hazy and a bit unsteady. She checked her make-up, noting that her dark red lipstick was holding up, but her mascara had smudged under her eyes giving her more of a goth vibe than the alt look she typically went for.

Emily sat down on the tub, patting the toilet paper against her wet clothing, feeling very drunk now that she was seated. Dammit Morgan, couldn’t he have spilled his beer on himself instead of her nice shirt?

The thud of the music was muffled, but there was a ringing in her ears that made everything feel very quiet. That was until there was a thundering of footsteps and the sound of a girl announcing: “I’m going to vom, right now.”

Emily sat, jaw dropped, as a red headed girl threw open the bathroom door, kneeled down on the floor next to the toilet, and relieved herself from the contents of her stomach without so much as a knock. The girl coughed into the bowl, yacking up what was probably way too much beer for the poor tiny girl.

“Oh my gosh,” said another voice, at the door, “I’m so sorry. We didn’t realize there was someone here! ”

Emily looked up, realizing the voice came from no other than Jennifer Jareau.

“JJ!” Emily said, not really knowing what else to do with the girl heaving at her feet.

“You ok?” JJ kneeled down next to her friend, carefully pulling her friend’s long hair back, tugging a hair tie off her own wrist and collecting it so that it didn’t get anything on it.

Emily felt stupid sitting on the tub, not helping anything. She tossed the rest of the toilet paper in the garbage, placing the half-empty roll on the edge of the tub.

“Can I get her some water?” Emily asked, “To rinse her mouth?”

JJ looked up at her and nodded. Emily felt herself blushing slightly as she turned away. Who let one girl’s eyes be so big, and so blue. It was rude.

She returned a minute later having had to rinse her own beer cup out in the gross kitchen sink to make sure that she wasn’t accidentally giving this girl some random person's sketchy cup.

Emily remembered that earlier Derek said that it was a varsity party, so it did make sense that JJ was also in attendance. The whole team probably was. The other girl looked like a soccer player, she had that vibe.

Emily handed the cup to JJ, who gave her a grateful smile. Emily felt their fingers touch for a moment, before JJ turned to attend to her friend.

She tried to get her to take a sip, and Emily took the moment to look JJ up and down, taking in her light blue skinny jeans, black tank and high heeled boots. She was basically wearing the uniform of a straight white girl at a houseparty. Not to say Emily wasn’t also basically wearing the same outfit, pairing the jeans with combat boots and attempting to set herself apart with her black nail polish and eyeliner that her mother once called ‘a lot.’

In contrast to Emily’s fairly undefined thin body, she took note of the strong looking shoulders that flexed as JJ kneeled down on the floor. She was definitely an athlete. Emily looked away, checking her phone, feeling suddenly embarrassed for looking at the girl.

‘Where u go bbg????’ Read a new message from Derek.

‘Girl puknigh up hre’ Emily typed, ‘Got her waterr’

Emily blinked at her typos, pressing the red underlined words, hoping her phone would correct them for her. She wasn’t that drunk.

The two girls were talking quietly, and Emily decided to take her leave, but before she could the red-head beat her to the punch deciding that she wanted to puke in peace.

“Leave me aloooooonnne Jennifer,” she wined. “Get out, I don’t want any more fucking water.”

JJ pulled back, making a face and holding her hands up in the ‘I surrender’ motion. Emily hurried out into the hall with JJ on her heels. The girl kicked the door shut angrily, and the sound of her retching ensued.

“There was a funnel,” JJ offered as an explanation. She leaned against the door. “How has your night been?”

Emily blinked. JJ was making conversation. She didn’t want Emily to leave just yet.

“So far so good,” Emily replied. “Doing better than your friend, at least.”

“That’s not hard to do. So I guess you didn’t chug from a funnel yet?” JJ quipped, smiling and revealing a perfect, white smile.

“Oh I have that scheduled for one-thirty, actually,” Emily said, pretending to check her watch and grinning.

“Let me know before you do, I’d like to watch that,” JJ said casually.

A wave of heat rushed to Emily’s face as she realized that drinking from a funnel would entail Emily on her knees, with JJ watching her… a thought that she needed to push out of her brain immediately.

“I’ll have you know,” Emily said in retort, “I can chug amongst the best. I am no stranger to these sorts of parties.”

JJ grinned. “Oh yeah?”

“I’m a reigning beer pong champ, I’ll have you know.”

They laughed.

“I saw your last victory. Very impressive.”

JJ, in a controlled fall, slid down the door and sat down in the hall, resigning herself to waiting for her friend. Emily wondered if she should return to Morgan now, but unable to tear herself away from the opportunity for a conversation with JJ.

“I’m awful at pong,” the blonde admitted. “I miss every time.”

“You probably just need a good teacher.”

JJ raised her eyebrows, “oh yeah?”

“I mean,” Emily said, sitting down onto the top step of the staircase, facing her floormate, “it’s all about hand eye coordination. It’s basically a sport. You need a coach.”

They both laughed.

“Well if that’s the case, why don’t you teach me?”

Emily gulped.

The door opened, and JJ fell back slightly before catching herself.

“I’m going home,” JJ’s friend announced.

JJ looked up at her dishevelled friend and nodded, turning back to look at Emily apologetically.

“Another time?” Emily offered, smiling before walking down the stairs and rejoining the party.

Next chapter ->

[spencersstrawberryjello]

Inside Scoop (Chapter Two)

Chapter Two - Someone Wants To Kill Me

Previous Chapter < - > Next Chapter

Chapter Summary: After being taken into the police station for further questioning, Hotch reveals some shocking information about the case. 

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, minor panic attack, descriptions of case-related violence (please let me know if I missed anything)

Word Count: 2563

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Today was full of firsts for me.

For example: I never imagined that I would be awaiting an FBI agent to come interview me in a police interrogation room.

I was saved from my inevitable breakdown by Agent Hotchner entering, swinging the door shut behind him.

“Dahlia Silvers, I presume?” He asked.

It was a bit of a ridiculous question, but I nodded anyway. He took a seat in front of me, his hands clasped together on the table.

“You know you’re here by your own free will, and you’re free to leave at any time, correct?”

I nodded, unable to process what was going on well enough to speak.

“Alright. Why don’t you start from the beginning: what did you see?”

I sucked in a deep breath before speaking, telling Hotch pretty much the same thing that I told the police officer who’d asked me at the crime scene. He listened attentively the entire time, not speaking until I sat back in my chair, finished.

“Ok. So you didn’t see anybody else in the area?” He asked. I shook my head.

“It was raining, the streets were empty. I’m sure I saw some cars drive by, but I can’t remember off the top of my head anyone looking suspicious.”

“Alright. I wanted to walk you through something called a ‘cognitive interview.’ It’s essentially a mental exercise that’ll take you back to the scene of the crime, and allow you to notice things that you might not remember.”

I’d heard of this before, but I’d never done one. Honestly, I was curious to know what it was, so I nodded. He encouraged me to think back to the event, allowing me to get into that headspace before he began asking questions.

“So, the first thing you saw was the purse, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Ok - do you see the woman’s body?”

Mentally, I turned to look down the alley, seeing the gruesome scene I’d witnessed only an hour ago.

“Yes.”

“Ok. Now, I need you to look around the area. Do you see any cameras?”

“Cameras?”

“Yes. Possibly security cameras on the walls, or something more discreet, like a camera in one of the nearby windows.”

I was confused, but I looked around, seeing nothing like what he described.

“No, I don’t see any cameras.”

“Ok. How about the street? Look at the cars driving by. Are any of them driving slower than the rest, or do any of them look suspicious in any way?”

I looked towards the street, taking note of the cars that I saw. For a second, I was about to say no, before I noticed a black SUV driving down the street significantly slower than the rest of the passing cars.

“Wait - yeah, there’s a SUV. It’s black, it’s in the lane nearest to me and driving way slower than the speed limit; maybe they wanted to stop and help?”

“Did you see the license plate on the car?”

I focused on the memory, but when I tried to see any details, it was just blurry. “No, I can’t tell. I guess I didn’t really notice it earlier.”

“Ok. You can open your eyes now.”

I did so, momentarily blinded by the fluorescent lights of the interrogation room. When my eyes adjusted, Hotch was looking at me with a grim expression.

“So, why’d you want to know the car license plate?”

He sighed, contemplating something for a moment before he spoke.

“Since the first murder, we’ve been able to pick up on the unsub’s pattern.”

“Wait, that’s good, right? It means it’ll be easier to catch them?”

“It should. Whoever is doing this, though… they’re good. They’ve managed to commit three murders without leaving any trace at all.”

“What’s their pattern? If you don’t mind me asking.”

I had relaxed a bit after the interview, knowing that I wasn’t in here as anything but a witness.

That relaxation ended after I heard what he had to say, though.

“The pattern we’ve noticed is related to who they kill. Dahlia… they’re targeting the people who discover their crime scenes.”

For a second, I thought I might’ve misheard him.

“What?” I stuttered out, too in shock to process what he’d said.

“Every time after the first, the victim was the person who’d discovered the crime scene.

You’re the first person to call it in, actually. That’s why we didn’t figure it out until just now… Prentiss called me when they arrived, confirming that the most recent victim was the woman that discovered the last crime scene - Kate Johnson. She didn’t call it in, but her friend came in last night to inform us that Kate had told her what she witnessed. Her friend thought she should tell us, but Kate refused. So she came herself.”

Now I was the one listening with rapt attention, desperate for more information. He continued, explaining what they’d done in the last twenty-four hours.

“When her friend came in, we rushed to find Kate, but she’d already disappeared. We had no idea where she was taken, but… well, I guess it doesn’t matter now. The second victim - the man who discovered the first crime scene - was a homeless man, and people who knew him said he didn’t report it because we might’ve thought it was him. So we had our suspicions on the pattern, but they were confirmed with this most recent murder. Which is why I had Prentiss bring you in.”

My hands were shaking, my brain still trying to process everything he’d told me.

“Why - so why did Agent Prentiss say you guys had other questions for me, then? Why didn’t she just tell me the truth?”

“Well, to be honest, we weren’t sure how you’d react. We wanted to tell you in a controlled setting, not when you were standing right next to a crime scene. Plus, we did have more questions for you.”

“I… fuck.”

I knew I probably shouldn’t swear in front of an FBI agent - professionalism, or something - but the weight of the information I’d learned had finally hit me. I didn’t know what else to do. I put my head in my hands, trying to steady my racing heart and force back the tears threatening to spill down my cheeks.

“I understand this has to be shocking - do you want me to give you a minute?” Hotch asked. I shook my head, raising it only after I was sure my emotions were in check.

“No, no, it’s ok. Just… what am I supposed to do now?”

“Well, we thought the best thing for your safety would be for you to stay here until the unsub is apprehended. We’re hoping that by taking away his target, he’s not going to know what to do, and he’ll slip up.”

“You want me to stay here? At the police station?”

“They have an empty office, and there’s a couch, or space to blow up an inflatable bed if you have one. We know it’s not an ideal, and obviously we’re not going to force you to do anything, but we do believe it’s the best way to ensure you’re completely protected. We could send someone to watch your house, but there are a lot more variables in terms of the unsub breaking in, or situations of that nature.”

I nodded my understanding, knowing that he was right. “Ok. Ok - holy shit - would I be able to go get stuff from my apartment?”

“Of course. We’ll have to send someone with you though; as long as she’s not doing anything, I can have Prentiss escort you, since you two have already become acquainted.”

“That’s fine,” I agreed, “How long do you think I’ll have to stay?”

I was scared to hear the answer, and his sigh wasn’t exactly reassuring.

“We’re really not sure. Hopefully not long, but it all depends on the unsub’s next move. It’s all a waiting game at this point.”

My hands were definitely shaking now, and I nodded again, balling them into fists to try and keep them still. Hotch looked sympathetic, albeit deeply uncomfortable. It wasn’t hard to tell he wasn’t really an emotional guy.

“I have a cat,” I mentioned. I figured I knew the answer to my next question, but I asked it anyway, “I’m assuming I can’t bring her here?”

“Unfortunately, I doubt it.”

I nodded, not expecting him to say yes, but figuring I should at least try. “I’ll get one of my friends to watch her.”

“That’s probably a good idea.” He cleared his throat awkwardly before going, “I’m sorry about all of this. But it really is the best way to protect you.”

“I understand. And I really appreciate what you guys are doing,” My voice sounded small, and I knew that I was on the cusp of a complete breakdown, “Can I go now?”

So far, this had definitely taken the cake for the worst day of my entire life.

“Yes; I’ll tell Prentiss to meet you at the front desk.”

I left the room, mind racing. Making my way to the front desk, I plopped down on a nearby bench and tried to force myself to stay calm.

“Dahlia Silvers?” A voice asked. I looked up, expecting to see Agent Prentiss, but instead I saw a man standing above me.

That man was none other than the same Dr. Reid that I was staring at earlier.

“Oh - yes, hi. Sorry, I was expecting to see Agent Prentiss,” I explained my surprise. He gave me a small half smile, gesturing to the seat next to me. I nodded for him to sit down, knowing there was no chance of getting my heart rate back down to normal now.

“I’m Dr. Spencer Reid, but you can just call me Reid. Or Spencer. Either one, I -” He faltered, clearly trying to get his thoughts in order before speaking again, “Sorry. I just figured that I should introduce myself, given that we’ll likely be seeing more of each other now that you… I’m sorry, I probably shouldn’t -”

“No, it’s fine; honestly, I don’t think I’ve processed it yet. I’m supposed to be going with Agent Prentiss to pick up my stuff, and I still have no idea how long I should be packing for.”

He nodded again, “I’m really sorry that you got wrapped up in all of this - you were on your way to work, right? Journalism?”

“Yeah, I work for The Washington Post, I’m a writer.”

“Cool. That’s cool - have you written anything that’s been printed?”

I thought about it for a second, “I’m not completely sure, most of my stuff is published online. I’ve dipped into crime journalism recently though, and I’m pretty sure that my article on Maria Coursetta - she’d been missing for a year up until a month ago, when her body turned up in a river about twenty miles from her home - was published in the print edition of the paper. Why, do you not read online news?”

“Reid is a bit of a technophobe,” Emily Prentiss rounded the corner, smiling as Spencer glared at her.

“Really? Man, we definitely don’t have that in common; I practically live on my phone,” I joked.

“There’s not much to do on my phone,” He said, and I cackled when he pulled out an old Blackberry from his pocket.

“Oh my god, how old is that thing?”

He was laughing along with me when he answered, “Like, ten years, I think? I got it during like, my first year with the BAU, and it’s been working since then.”

“You must take incredible care of your belongings.”

“I try.”

“Speaking of belongings - Dahlia?” Emily spoke from over Spencer’s shoulder, and I nodded, remembering what I was supposed to be doing.

“Right. Well, it was nice to meet you, Spencer - hopefully I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah!” He grinned, and I forced myself to ignore the way my heart fluttered. He took his leave, disappearing into a nearby conference room, and I stood up, following Emily outside.

“Here,” She handed me her phone, with a GPS open, “You can just put your address in there, if you’re ok with it.”

“Yeah, that’s good,” I took it, typing my address in and handing it back to her.

We were crossing the parking lot to the car we’d came here in when I noticed a familiar car drive by.

I stopped dead in my tracks, my gaze following the black SUV that had just grabbed my attention. I don’t think Emily saw me stop, because she kept walking towards the car, but I was transfixed, trying to figure out any little detail that could tell me if it was the same car I saw earlier or not.

Because it’s not like a black SUV was an uncommon car. But in one of the SUV’s in this city, there’s a person who wants to kill me.

Holy shit, someone wants to kill me.

Suddenly all I could hear was my heartbeat in my ears, my breath faltering as the reality of the situation finally set in.

Someone wants to kill me.

White hot fear drove through my body, forcing goosebumps up and down my arms. I tried to continue walking towards the car, but I couldn’t move.

“Dahlia?” Emily had turned around now. I felt her hand on my shoulder, but her voice sounded distant. I was brutally aware of the tears stinging my eyes, and I tried to force them back, tried to keep my composure, but it was useless.

“Dahlia you have to breathe, ok? Just breathe with me, alright?” She moved to stand in front of me, grabbing my shaking hands and squeezing them, trying to bring me back to reality. She took dramatic breaths, modeling a pattern, and I tried my best to follow her, slowly sucking in air and forcing my racing heart to slow down.

After what felt like hours, my heart rate finally returned to something close to normal, and she dropped my hands, still staying nearby to ensure that I was ok. I sniffled, wiping the tears off my cheeks, immediately trying to hide the evidence of my minor breakdown.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know -”

“No, you don’t have any reason to apologize,” She shut me down, but I shook my head.

“I know, but still -”

“Nope. No still. Do you want to talk about anything?” She asked. I shook my head again. I didn’t even think I could put into words what just went through my mind, and honestly, I didn’t really want to try.

“Ok. Are you ok to go to your house?” She asked. I nodded this time, and I followed her on unsteady legs as we crossed the parking lot to the car. I glanced back at the road, but the SUV was gone by that point. I reminded myself that it was probably just an ordinary person, that I couldn’t be scared every time I saw one of the most common cars in the world, but in the back of my mind I knew that I would never look at them the same.

Someone wants to kill me.

The thought kept running through my mind, I couldn’t shut it up despite my best efforts. So I just climbed into the car with Emily, staring out the windshield as she backed out of the parking lot.

[nothingeverlost]

Donut (Penny for Your Thoughts verse, Rumbelle)

@halfwayinlight I thought I would have this up for Christmas.  Sorry it’s a tad late.

It’s a quarantine Christmas vacation

II

“I’ll see you after the new year.”  David gave her a hug before he left the office, catching the elevator with Graham and Emma.  They were all headed for his house, where Emma would pick up her son.

“Give Mary Margaret and Neal my love, and tell her that when she gets tired of you there’s always an empty room above our garage,” she teased.  Though it was a joke she would miss him.  They’d been sharing Archie’s apartment for months now, and though they both longed for their families it had been an interesting bonding experience, bringing them even closer.

Belle only lingered a few minutes extra in the office, leaving a few surprises in Ariel’s desk for her to find.  While the rest of the team was taking the month of December off, to spend time with their quarantined families, Ariel had volunteered to liaise with the team temporarily taking their place.  Belle was pretty certain the decision had been at least influenced by the agent in charge of the team, Eric del Mar.  The first time they’d met in the cafeteria Ariel had been so flustered she’d accidentally stolen a fork.  She still kept it in her desk, jokingly calling it her lucky dinglehopper.

With one last look around to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything - a month was a long time to be away from work - Belle headed for the elevator and punched the button to take her up to the lobby.  Her bags were in the back of the car; it was the first time since September she’d been home.  Not being there for Thanksgiving had been hard, but knowing she would get the whole month for Christmas had made up for it.

Archie’s car was in the carport, leaving her spot in the garage free.  Belle hoped he’d only moved out of her space recently; it was silly not to use it when she was gone, not that Archie would be driving much.  The sound of the garage door meant she couldn’t hope to surprise anyone, but it didn’t matter when the door opened and Claire raced out to greet her.

“Mommy.”  She was barely out of the car when her daughter jumped the last few feet, certain that she would be caught.  Belle scooped her up, hugging her tight.  She needed a million hours of cuddles to make up for missed time.  “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, baby.”  

“You can’t go in the kitchen ‘cause it’s a surprise, but papa said that if you’re hungry I should show you the cuter board in the living room.  Uncle Archie let me help with the crackers and the grapes but not with the cheese ‘cause the knife is sharp.”  When she put Claire down her daughter still stayed close.

“I think papa probably said it was a charcuterie board, but I like yours better.”  She had to guess that it was Archie’s influence more than Gabe’s, unless he had somehow discovered pinterest and been way more bored then he let on.  “Where is your papa sweetheart?”

“He had to take Donut outside so she could go potty.”

“I don’t think I understand.”  She tried to puzzle out what Claire might mean about taking a donut outside.  None of her toys, to Belle’s knowledge, were named donut.

“You will.”  Bay chuckled as he came out of the kitchen, a towel tucked into his pants.  He probably hadn’t grown at all in the past couple of months, she just wasn’t used to thinking of him as being that tall.  When he hugged her her head fit neatly under his chin.  “Welcome home.”

“I’m so glad to see you sweetheart.  Thank you for all the videos, they brighten my day.”  Bay had introduced the whole family to Tiktok, setting everyone up with private accounts.  The rest of the team now had accounts, and shared videos, but Bay and Henry were responsible for most of the sharing.  She was grateful for the multiple one minute videos she saw each day, and often rewatched, though Claire’s fascination with the fireplace had given her more than one moment of concern.

“Of course the damn dog would decide it needed to go out the moment you arrive home.”  The back door slammed, letting in a cold breeze, her husband, and a dog.  It was an odd looking thing that could only be classified as a mutt, with a reddish brown head that looked vaguely like a retriever and a body in gray and white that looked like it should belong to another dog entirely.

“Donut?” she guessed.  Her attention only lingered on the dog for a moment.  She was much more interested in the man crossing the room towards her.  Almost three month since she’d been able to touch Gabe was almost criminal in her opinion.  Someone should be arrested

“I can think of some names that would be more appropriate for the mutt but your daughter insisted.”  She couldn’t answer, not with Gabe’s lips on hers and his hands at her waist.  God she’d missed the taste of him.  And the feel.  And the smell.

“They’re kissing already,” she could hear Claire whisper loudly.  “Do they have to take a really big breath like when you some swimming under water?”

“Something like that,” she could hear Bay reply with a chuckle.

“Hugs are better,” her daughter declared.  Belle had to laugh at that, when the kiss ended.  

“I like hugs too, sweetheart.”  Gabe was wearing one of the sweaters they had picked up on their trip to Ireland last year, and the wool was soft against her skin.  She wouldn’t mind standing just where she was for a while.

“Especially when less clothing is involved,” Gabe whispered in her ear.  Bell elbowed him lightly in the ribs.  That wasn’t fair; it would be hours before they could have that kind of alone time.  

“So is anyone going to tell me about this new addition to the family?”  No one had mentioned a dog on any of their calls, which were at least once a day.

“She was sleeping in Claire’s playhouse a few weeks ago.  We made calls but no one seemed to be looking for her.  The vet gave her a clean bill of health and a little snip snip so it looks like we are pet owners now.”  Gabe groused, but couldn’t hide a smile when he looked down at his daughter gently petting the dog and whispering confidences in her ear.  “She certainly is more comfortable sleeping on Claire’s bed.”

“I thought we should call her Goldilocks since she was in someone else’s house.  Archie voted on Snow White for the same reason.  But the short one had the final say so she’s Donut.”  Bay shrugged.  “I’m going to go check on things.”

“Things?” Belle asked as he headed for the kitchen, where she wasn’t allowed to go according to Claire.  She assumed that he was helping with dinner; Archie had mentioned something about cooking lessons with Bay which was good, since Archie knew more about cooking than Gabe by quite a bit.

“Dinner, obviously, but I promised not to spoil the surprise by sharing the menu.”  He tugged her towards the sofas, where the ‘cuter’ board was laid out on the coffee table along with an open bottle of Bordeaux.  Belle sat on the sofa next to him but turned so her legs were across his lap.

“So you decided that a six year old, a college sophomore, and a full time roommate with his six computers wasn’t interesting enough, you added a dog to the mix?”  She and Gabe were both relieved that Bay’s college was still doing online classes, and Archie being around made sense both for Archie not being alone and for help around the house, but it was a full house especially when both kids were home schooling, Archie was working from home and Gabe was working on a new book.  

“It was snowing.”  Gabe was full of bluster, but Belle knew that he’d been thinking about getting a dog anyway.  In fact she was a little surprised it had taken so long, except that they had talked about waiting until Claire was old enough to have some of the responsibility.  Gabe loved on every dog they saw at a crime scene.  “She’s gentle with Claire.”

“You’re a marshmallow, Gabe Gold.”  She kissed him on the cheek.  “I am confused by the name, though.”

“It’s your fault, actually.  You know how she loves stories about when you were pregnant, and how much you loved eclairs.”

“I always love eclairs, I just loved them a little more then.”  And Gabe, bless him, had indulged her with early morning drives to the bakery, late night drives to the grocery store, and at least a few times special flavors overnighted from out of state bakeries.

“Most people would call it an obsession, sweetheart.”  There were no eclairs on the charcuterie board, of course, but he did hand her a cracker topped with brie and raspberry habanero jelly.  “You know how she likes to say that she is mommy’s favorite eclair.”

“She is my favorite.”  It had been a joke at first, calling her baby a little eclair.  She and Gabe had spent months debating baby names; sadly between the two of them there were many names that reminded them of cases they had worked and people they did not want sharing a name with their baby.  It was a nurse who had misheard eclair and thought she was saying Claire, and the name had worked.  She and Gabe both loved it.

“Claire reasoned that her favorite treat from the bakery is jelly donuts.  Like mother, like daughter.”

“You can’t fault her logic.”  Belle laughed, even more amused now that she understood the name.  “I’ve heard worse names for a dog.”

“Bay says dinner in five.”  Claire appeared a moment later, dog at her side.  Belle scooped her up, holding her on her lap.  It didn’t get much better than holding her little girl while cuddling with her husband.  

“Good, because I’m very hungry.”

“I’m very hungry too, and Uncle Archie made…”  Belle quickly put a finger to her daughter’s lips.

“Let’s let Bay and Archie have their secret for a little longer.  They wanted dinner to be a surprise, remember?”  

“I forgotted.  I won’t say anything, okay?  Papa says secrets are good sometimes like when Bay says something is a secret or when there’s presents under the tree.  But sometimes secrets make you feel bad in your tummy and then you have to tell mommy or papa.”  Claire nodded her head wisely, explaining back what had been explained to her.

“Papa’s right, sweetheart.  You should always tell mommy of papa if someone wants you to keep a bad secret.”  She hated thinking about anyone like that near her daughter, but she and Gabe knew too much about the kind of people that manipulated children.  They’d talked a lot about how to keep their kids safe.  “But this is a very good secret. Bay and Archie are making yummy food.  And we know it must be yummy because they’re not letting your papa in the kitchen at all.”

“Hey, I can cook,” Gabe protested, though not with much vigor.

“You cook more than you did when I first met you, though that’s not saying a lot considering I think you spent at least five years using nothing more than the microwave and coffee pot.”  While no one would call him a gourmet he could pull together a meal.  Spaghetti was still his most often made dinner.  Grilled cheese and tomato soup were a close second.

“That might be true but you could still spend tonight on the sofa if you don’t watch yourself.”

“That anxious to spend the night alone again?”  She raised an eyebrow, teasing him back.

“Never again, if I had my way.”  They kissed again, over their daughter’s head, only stopping when Archie coughed politely.

“Dinner’s ready.”  Claire wiggled down first. Belle was slower, but when she stood she gave Archie a hug and a kiss on the cheek.  

“We have so much to catch up on, Arch.  We’re going to eat so much popcorn.”  

“My tivo is full of things to marathon.”  Their online marathon dates hadn’t been the same, and David had no appreciation for corny sci fi.  “It’s been killing me not to watch Star Trek Lower Decks until you got here.”  

“I can’t wait.”  She followed Archie to the dining room, Claire holding her hand and Gabe right behind her.  Bay was waiting next to the table which had been laid out in all the best china.  In the center of the table was a platter of turkey meat.  There was cranberry sauce and corn souffle and mashed potatoes, gravy and rolls, candied yams and green beans.  It was a full Thanksgiving feast.  “Oh!”

“We didn’t want you to miss Thanksgiving.  Facetime Thanksgiving isn’t really the same.”  Bay’s apron was covered in a million questionable stains, but Belle didn’t give a thought to her clothes before hugging him.

“I didn’t tell, Bay.  Not even a little bit,” Claire proudly exclaimed.  Bay picked her up.  

“Of course you didn’t, Plum.”  Bay set her on her chair.  Next to her on the ground was a dog bed and a large bone.  “Before eating remember that this is only possible because Archie taught me so if anything’s wrong it’s his fault.”

“It’s going to be perfect.”  Belle say down between Gabe and Claire, holding both of their hands.  “I am so thankful for all of you.  My family.”

[gra-sonas]

Quick check in bc my inbox is bursting at the seams (won’t reply for a while tho, sorry).

Thank you for everyone who reached out and was kind. ❤️

For anyone unhappy about inaccuracies regarding my transcript of what was said in that scene in my last post: I watched the episode without access to subtitles and I listened to what was said more than once when I wrote the transcript. And still, over the music played in the scene, I misheard. Friends of mine (native English speakers even, which I’m not) watched and heard what I heard, even some of today’s RNM 2x06 reviews did. So I wasn’t deliberately misleading or framing the scene as something it’s not, the audio in that scene just sucks balls and without subtitles it’s easy to fuck up. I’m sorry.

That being said. The scene hurt me in ways I didn’t think was possible. Even hours after watching it I was shaking, and I woke up at 2am having a full blown panic attack (which I hadn’t had in years, so yeah, it was that bad). I’m still feeling super fragile, and the scene makes me feel like shit and I’m in no way okay with it. I still think it was manipulative as hell (Heater confirmed that Maria suggested the threesome to force Michael into making a decision between her and Alex, so there’s that) and coercive in nature. There was just ZERO reason for her to initiate sex between the three of them. ZILCH. It’s just... it still makes my skin crawl to even think about it.

This scene hit every trigger button I have, and I’m not handling this well. I have to take a step back for a while. I don’t know for how long, maybe I’ll feel up to posting something tomorrow, maybe next week, I have no idea. For now I have to take care of my mental health and think about where I can go from here. I just feel super lost. I’m not only mourning the loss of the show, I’m mourning the loss of one of the most important OTPs I’ve ever had. Because this scene was pretty much a nail in the coffin, I’m just— cosmic, my ass...

One thing’s for sure tho, I love Alex Manes even more fiercely than before and I’ll never be able to thank Tyler enough for playing him.

Talk to you whenever I feel less like breaking down any second 👋

[fdragon-art]

Day 57 (DirkJake Week Day 2 - Literature)  - Some quiet downtime

I figured I’d try my hand at writing a piece of fiction for this prompt in the spirit of it all, but I wanted to definitely draw something for it too, so I did both. I wrote the ficlet and drew a scene from it. I haven’t really shared much in the way of writing, so it’s a bit of a first for me (on here at least heheh)

(Fanfiction below)

"Hey Dirk?"

Dirk swings his arms around, bringing his blade down on a hapless skeleton and shattering it's femur, causing it to topple into a pile of bones. Jake brings his pistol up quickly and, ensuring his silencers are on properly, shoots two shots into the skull, splintering the dome and causing the pile of bones to explode into grist.

Dirk collects the various coloured jewels before "sheathing" his katana into his strife specibus and turning to Jake.

"What's up?"

Jake looks around the green hills, scanning the environment before taking a pair of devices from his sylladex, slotting straight into his ears and around. 

"How'd that noggin of yours figure out my hearing was a few cogs short off a watch? I lived on that island for yonks and it never came to my attention!" 

It's hard to reach Dirk's expression behind his shades - and don't even try to when his full mask is equipped - but Jake's learnt to read some of the stronger ones over the month or two they've been together in the game.

His face tells him that the question was almost too stupid to ask.

"You remember when I first suggested you might need your hearing tested?" Jake pulls at his invisible moustache as he looks up at the black skies.

"I do recollect a smidgen of that event. Boy, I was stubborn as a mule on a hot summer's day!"

Dirk turns his eyes to the landscape and, after searching thoroughly for any activity, sets up a small camp site from his sylladex - one of the niftier things from Jake's aesthetics - and sits himself down on one of the newly-placed logs.

"Do you remember how many times you answered a question with a nonsensical answer?"

Jake sits himself opposite of Dirk, the logs close enough to make conversation easy.

"But it's perfectly normal to clarify through fanciful answers! The heroes do it all the time!"

"And the loud headphones?"

"I like to experience the full purview of the cinematic experience!"

"And the love of having subtitles on...?"

"Doesn't everyone find it easier to watch with them on?"

Dirk slaps his barely-exposed forehead with his palm, Jake tilting his head in confusion.

"You have no idea what it's like to not have trouble with listening to talking, do you?"

Dirk's lips appear straight as ever, but an air of concern and curiosity seems to emanate from him.

"I mean, I have my way of enjoying how I listen to things, but none of that explains how you figured it out!"

A 'hmm' comes out of Dirk's mouth, and Jake silences himself, sure he misheard Dirk's last question.

"You didn't actually hear my last question, did you?"

Jake is taken aback; how does he know these things?

"How did you know? I thought my answer was perfectly adequate!"

Dirk stands up from where he was sitting, Jake following his movements as he sits himself right next to him.

"I've studied a ton of media, both fictional and non-fiction, and I've explored the long-dead internet of the past...well, my past...and--"

Jake interrupts. "Your what? Sorry, I missed that word..."

Dirk shakes his head and waves him off before thinking twice and repeating himself.

"I explored the long-dead internet of my past, and--" Jake nods and continues staring at him, "--people don't have trouble listening to others unless they're super quiet or everything's super loud."

Jake twists his face in disagreement. "But it takes (nary a noise) before it's hard to understand what people are saying!"

Dirk nods his head, wrapping his hands around each other. "Exactly. It doesn't take that much for you to have trouble, and I figured this out just from talking to you."

Jake's eyes widen, surprise evident in his gaping maw. "You figured all that out just from talking to me?"

In a rare show of awkwardness, Dirk takes his eyes off of Jake for a moment before flicking them back. "I...did get some help from AR.--"

"--Eiyar?...oh right, AR!"

"Yeah.

"When he first mentioned the idea, I thought it was pretty stupid. I mean, "How would you know something like that when you're literally a pair of shades powered by a supercomputer, 411 years apart from him?". He kept rubbing his "hyper-intelligence" in my face, so I disregarded him for the most part. The thought gnawed at me, though, so I wanted to test out his theory and rule it out for good by setting up that video call."

Jake tilts his head - an expression Dirk never gets tired of, no matter how often he does it - and asks. "That was all because you wanted to prove him wrong?"

Dirk shakes his head. "Th-that wasn't the only reason, but it was an excuse to explore it. Sure enough, his idea was right and I saw the telltale signs of someone struggling with hearing."

"He's really a piece of work, that dadblasted AR! But I guess I owe it to him this time?"

Jake hears Dirk chuckle at the thought. "Yeah, I guess you do. Really, the only thing I never figured out was how it could have happened, but sometimes people are born with these things."

Jake chuckles nervously. "Heheh, yeah. I can't entertain a single thought as to the possibility of how my hearing took such a hit."

Jake thinks back to before he got the hearing aids from Dirk (thank goodness for the transportalizer) and never used a silencer on his pistols during his frequent practice sessions.

Dirk's lips subtly shift, but Jake misses the cue and is left unaware that he already suspects.

"Either way, there was no way I was going to let you live on that island without something to make up for it. Way too dangerous to go raiding tombs and hunting monsters if you can't hear them quick enough."

Jake lets out a warm chuckle. "They really have been worth their weight in gold. I still can't thank you enough for them."

Too quick to catch, Dirk's cheeks shift a shade before he pushes himself against the log and stand. Can't be showing any cracks in the porcelain.

"Well, we should get moving. These skeletons won't kill themselves, you know."

Jake, the theatric that he is, launches himself off the log and attempts to pull off a cool pose, tripping over the grass and face-planting, captchaloguing his glasses just in time before they hit the ground. "Ugh...that could've gone better..."

Dirk reaches his spare hand out and Jake holds it, pulling himself up off of the ground and re-equipping his glasses.

"Well what are we waiting for? Adventuring awaits us!" Jake starts to charge ahead, leaving Dirk to grab the logs -- no wait. The "campsite", right next to "can of white" -- and rush to catch up.

"Don't get too far away! You might miss what I have to say."

"Well if that ain't the darnedest sweetest thing you've said!"

Dirk facepalms, his lips quivering ever-so-slightly before straightening out. "You know what I mean."

The two of then look around for more skeletons to bonk and, upon finding one, they run towards it together it, side-by-side.

( @dirkjakeweekly )

[bearpillowmonster]

FF7 Remake Review (Characters)

Next are characters, which I more or less already knew before this but have more context now: (only minor spoilers for this part)

Cloud-

He’s like Finn from Star Wars, Ex Shinra, Ex Stormtrooper, they know the ins and outs of the enemies. He really takes it serious about his money though, in a way I could see why with the slums and all as well as it being an excuse to hide his feelings but I just didn’t expect it. It sounds like one of his battle quotes is “It’s time” and I say out loud “Time to de-evilize!” He has a few similar to Sora too that I like. But I have a bit of a pet peeve...LET ME PLAY AS YOUNG CLOUD AND TIFA $%^*&#@!

Villains-

Is Sephiroth a cross between Palpatine and Scar? “Let the hate consume you.” The other villains such as Heidigger (who is voiced by John DiMaggio of all people) are kind of annoying to be honest, I was bored every scene he was in, I like John DiMaggio, it made me think we were fighting Dr. Drakken, scar and all but I just don’t think we need to see him deploy the enemies every time, it just seems pointless. It’s not a hamper on the story or anything, I mean there are tons of villains in games that are just there and it’s fine all the same, plus we have better villains in the game so it evens out.

Barrett-

He’s cool and gosh dang Marlene is adorable. But Barrett plays pretty nicely, it’d be kind of cool if he was the exception to gameplay type and went full on 3rd person shooter and you could just aim all over the place but he’s still really fun to play.

Tifa-

is a sweetheart. When I first saw her character, it was in KH2 and she was tearing apart this room, punching walls, and kicking down doors to find Cloud. While she keeps the strength, maybe she acted like that in the original but not here. I hear that personalities between her and Aerith have changed over time? Like there are different versions and they act different since there’s FF7, Advent Children, Crisis Core and this remake, maybe it’s just the fan perception, I’m not sure. Oh and I played Tifa’s theme on the jukebox and she started bobbing her head, so they respond to the music you play.

I know doing some of the mundane sounding side quests with Tifa, made them a whole lot better, when I said it helps the world building, I wasn’t kidding, she made me feel motivated like “Yeah this is a life in the slums but she’s making the best of it and I’m comfortable.” I’d say her play style (in Smash terms) would be similar to Sonic, she’s fast (there’s even a speed upgrade you can get) but carries a punch if you have the right equipment.

Red XIII-

They call him a ‘lab rat dog’ but he’s a lion...right? He’s not in it a whole lot so I don’t have much to say about him other than him having a killer design and he and Barrett make the best joke of the game (the car one). You don’t play as him which I believe you could in the original, he still helps out with damage though which brings me to another topic, I know I finished gameplay but this would’ve been a great opportunity to use more reaction commands, you don’t really see them in much of any game any more, they’re like the Star Wars prequels, you don’t realize what you have until it’s gone, there are a good bit of moments like that.

Aerith-

Trust me, I loved climbing rooftops with her. One thing I see pointed out is that she’s a bit more sassy in this version, it’s kind of funny at times. Her dodge could use a little work though I could say that she’s not an experienced fighter like the others yet her magic came in clutch for me time and time again. Both her and Tifa are cool with kids but Aerith and that scene in Chapter 12 was the first part I got chills.

I didn’t do all of the Chapter 8 (Sector 5, where Aerith is) side quests because I did the first few and hated them, those hedgehog pies and smoggers are really annoying, I figured whoever I choose, I’ll make up for it later. Now I’m going to put this is in a context so people who played understand and those who haven’t won’t since I’m not technically into the story section. The whole secret with Aerith is just weird in my opinion, I mean it ties in with the story and is in the original but I had to look that up, I actually thought that that would’ve been one of the big changes they made but no.

What route did I take? I knew beforehand that I would have to kind of sway towards one character or another, whether that be Tifa or Aerith and so on but I never knew who I was going to pick pre-game. I kind of tried to stay mindful of what exactly I was choosing while at the same time just doing it “my way” and see what happens, who I’ll like better. What I hate is that you have to choose before you give both girls a fair shot and get proper introduction because you have to do all the quests in chapter 3 to get Tifa and skip it to get Aerith (you could probably still save it because of the date points but still). It said you have to pick someone regardless whether you do the quests or not so I thought maybe do all the quests in Ch.3 and 8 then go from there, it got to the point where I decided to pick Barrett just so I wouldn’t have to decide but at that point the “point” system was already too high for each of the girls, Barrett’s route was already disabled. The big decision between the two was the sewers which I kind of have to appreciate how that was done. I even made a comparison list because of how much I was thinking about it and whoever got more...you think I’m joking? 

Yeah bad handwriting but I couldn’t come up with any bad things for Tifa other than her trying to be mature, only a few for Aerith as you can see however I actually ended up looking up something that put things in a certain perspective, Aerith saw Zack in Cloud when he was messed up, that might be why she likes him while Tifa likes the real him hence the scene afterwards in the original (plus I think I even heard her call him Zack during combat (unless I misheard, I can’t find any evidence online)). So that means I picked the dress for Tifa, Exotic. Also look at this and tell me that doesn’t fit Aerith.

So those are my ships, I’ll update what happened with them in the story section.

The others in Avalanche, I’ll just lodge together. Wedge, I don’t see why they got Matt L Jones to play him but he also doesn’t do anything so whatever. Biggs is kind of cool I guess, just another hot shot. I’m surprised Jessie got the part she did after playing through the first section, I expected her to be forgotten about after that but no, apparently the remake gave them bigger roles, in the original they were very limited. But Jessie’s pretty cool, my favorite of the bunch and I helped her out when I could but I didn’t choose the “no promises” date option or anything (does that mean I led her on? Is that bad in a video game?) You don’t play as them though, I get that they tried to vary gameplay types with each person and these guys had very similar styles to others already (and you can’t just play as every character you see).

Quick graphics section, you already know they look good, I mean it’s even better than Advent Children (which I haven’t saw much of other than models and screenshots) and that was obviously prerendered CGI but I couldn’t imagine being a fan of the original and seeing these updated designs, not even of the characters but enemies. I was looking at why you can use cure on ghosts and it brought me to the original FF7 wiki and I saw what they used to look like (granted they look cool) but I just never expected such a upscale. It’s something fans can appreciate, and also goes the other way around, I could tell some scenes were from the original and were really improved on, it almost gave me a sense of nostalgia and I never even played the game, this was made with love.

(PART 1)

(PART 3)

[lilith-lovett]

Found Families - Home is Where the Hart is - Chapter Eleven

Here you go a new chapter. I am no entirely happy with this one but it is okay and I am really excited for the chapters to follow. So prepare yourself for a truck load of angst in the next few chapters but this story arc is almost over and then I can move onto much more fluffy scenes I can’t wait to write. Also we have a Virgil POV (Roman’s will be coming soon) and an insight into Virgil and Dee’s past here, I hope to hear your thoughts about them. Once again thank you for all of your kind comments and I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Masterlist

Summary: Virgil is faced with a difficult situation.

Word Count: 3021

Warnings: Child abuse, insomnia mention, nightmare mention, implied child abuse, description of injuries (bruises), scars mention, fire mention, implied past child abuse, implied murder, OCD behaviours, panic attack mention, self-deprecation, anxiety, description of panic attack, implied depression, sympathetic deceit. (If their is anything I have missed please let me know).

Virgil couldn’t sleep. That in itself wasn’t unusual, often being plagued by both bouts of insomnia and nightmares. But tonight, he couldn’t sleep for an entirely different reason. Logan. Despite only meeting him a few hours ago, he felt strangely protective over him, disregarding the two years age difference. But those bruises were no accident and upon eavesdropping on a conversation between two matrons, his fears were confirmed. Someone was hurting Logan and now Virgil was burdened with that information.

Once Virgil, Roman and Dee left Dad and Logan to talk, returning to the foyer. Virgil caught a glimpse of the owner of the orphanage - the matron Patton had pointed out to them - and the lady from the front desk, sharing whispers between each other under hushed breaths. Virgil couldn’t help but be curious. He passed Dee over to Roman who quirked a brow in confusion, Virgil shushed him quickly and gradually made his way over to where the two women were, while remaining hidden from view. Now Virgil was in earshot of their conversation and could make out most of what they were saying.

“Do you really think Logan will be adopted?” The first said, Virgil recognised her as the desk lady.

“No, Mr Hart will soon see sense but I shall not let our Logan’s behaviour go unpunished,” The larger women responded. Virgil couldn’t believe what he was hearing, all of Logan’s bruises, she was the one hurting Logan.

Virgil slapped a hand across his mouth to prevent him form calling out, his laboured breaths slipping through his fingers as he rushed back to where Roman was. Mentally running through the breathing exercise Uncle Emile had taught him so not to alarm Dee or Roman. So he sat, silently wishing he hadn’t given Logan his fidget cube but instead he began to scroll through his phone, hoping for a distraction from the spiralling thoughts. But the sight of the bruises on Logan’s arms was at the forefront of his mind.

Now Virgil lay on his bed, staring up into the seemingly never-ending blackness, his mind filled with ‘What ifs?’, debating whether or not he should tell Patton about Logan or not. He brought his own wrists towards his face, his own bruises had long ago faded and only the faint white scars and memories remained. He had taken off his gloves, in his room he had no one to hide them from, the hideous scars hidden underneath. They weren’t as severe as Dee’s, only reaching the joint connecting his hand to his wrist, no longer causing him any physical pain but he still kept them covered when out in public, to avoid the stares his brother would be forced to endure for the rest of his life.

Virgil still saw the flames. Heard the screams of his mother - it was the most emotion he had ever seen her show - and felt the fear of losing his beloved brother on a daily basis. That night haunted his every waking moment, causing him to obsessively checks the locks on every window and door in the house before he could even think about resting, flickering candle light brought on violent panic attacks and the thought of being separated from Dee. He couldn’t bare to even think what he would do.

Virgil listened to every sound Dee made in his sleep - his crib barely a metre from his own bed - every breath, every sniffle, every cough. Just to know he was still there. That Virgil was still here. It was too quiet, everything was too quiet. He had nothing to block out his thoughts, compelling him to take notice of them. The sight of Logan’s bruises, the well-concealed wince and perfect mask which would convince the most sceptical but unfortunately for Virgil he knew the signs. He knew the signs to well. As he had been in the same position, only wearing long-sleeves, never allowing anyone close enough to see his pain. Patton had told him that Logan reminded him of Virgil but know he knew that wasn’t a good thing. It meant he had a past. It meant he had been hurt and he was far from healing.

Virgil recalled an assembly from earlier this month, in which they discussed the signs of abuse and urged all of them to tell a responsible adult if they believed someone was being abused at home. He hadn’t remained in the assembly for long as he ran from the hall, had a panic attack in the hallway and was sent home. But now a question repeated itself in his head again and again and again

‘Should he tell Patton?’

Virgil knew he should but what if Patton thought he was lying? What if he misheard the conversation? What if Logan had gotten the bruises from a fall or accident? Would Patton get mad at him and send him away? No. Virgil quickly banished that thought. Patton assured him enough times a day he would never send him away. But how would he react? And on the other side. If Patton did believe him and went to the Orphanage, would it only worsen Logan’s abuse? He had experience that more times than he could recall. Every phone call from school about his work, his attitude or if heaven forbid they saw one of his bruises. It was a sure sign more would be added to the collection.

Virgil didn’t know what to do. He wished he could talk to Patton about this. Patton always knew what to do. Sweet, brave, selfless Patton. Constantly giving, never thinking selfishly, a light which could expel any darkness. He always knew what to say when the bad thoughts took over. He always knew what to say to make Virgil feel safe, to feel loved. He glanced towards his alarm clock. 22:27. Patton would still be awake, preparing their lunches for the following school day, then he would check on them for a final time before going to bed himself.

Virgil sat up and swung his legs over the side of his bed. He was going to do this. He was really going to do this. He was going to tell Patton. And he was going to do it for Logan.

 Virgil swiftly lost his resolve. The further he ventured down the stairs, the greater his anxiety grew. Filling his chest and throat, the pressure building and slowly crushing his lungs. He could hear Patton in the kitchen, softly singing to himself, a song Virgil didn’t recognise but he found it comforting so he used the soft sounds and pretty lyrics to ground himself before steadily approaching the kitchen. Patton stood by the counter, preparing both Virgil and Roman’s lunches, incorporating their favourite foods into their personalised bags. Finishing them with a presumably sappy handwritten note. He continued to sing and sway along to his own music, unaware of Virgil’s presence.

“Hey dad,” Virgil said after a moment of hesitation.

“Oh Virgil, you frightened me” Patton exclaimed jolting at Virgil’s sudden appearance. “What’s up kiddo, can’t sleep?”.

“No, not really,” Virgil admitted burrowing his hands deeper into the pockets of his well-loved hoodie.

“That’s alright Virgil, if you want we could watch something or listen to that band you really like…Twenty Two Drivers,” Patton suggested setting aside his lunch preparations, giving Virgil his full attention. “Or…we could talk about what ever is bothering you,”.

“Firstly, it’s Twenty One Pilots and secondly how do you know something is bothering me?” Virgil questioned furrowing his brow.

“I’m your dad kiddo, I have a sixth sense for this sort of thing,” Patton replied taping the center of his forehead, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Now, shall we talk?”

“L-let’s talk,” Virgil stuttered his anxiety rebuilding within his chest as his mind screamed at him that this was a bad idea and he should just apologise, tell Patton everything was fine and go back to bed but he forced himself to stay.

“Great, now you go get comfortable on the couch and I’ll whip up some of my super special supreme hot chocolate,” Patton said clapping his hands together in excitement as he danced around the kitchen, collecting the ingredients for their drinks. Patton’s super special supreme hot chocolate - Roman came up the name - was a necessity for all late night chat sessions and he could confirm they certainly lived up to their name.

“Roman’s going to be so jealous,” Virgil smirked settling himself on the couch, bundling himself up on one of the many weighted blanket which lay around the living room. He needed the extra comfort.

“Then it will be our little secret,” Patton chirped arriving with their steaming mugs of chocolate, joining Virgil underneath the blanket, passing him his drink. He blew on it before talking a tentative sip and he was immediately enveloped in warmth as the sweet and rich chocolate flavour exploded in his mouth. “So, what is it that is bothering you?”

This was it. The moment of truth. Where his fate would be decided.

“This is an entirely hypothetical situation but if I hypothetically knew someone was getting hurt, should I tell an adult even if their was a chance they could get hurt even worse. Hypothetically?” Virgil said his gaze fixated on his mug, refusing to meet Patton’s eyes.

“Virgil, look at me please,” Patton asked calmly, Virgil heard a soft clink as Patton set down is mug on the coffee table and he cautiously glanced upwards to see Patton expression had completely shifted. His former cheerful expression melting away to reveal a much more serious one underneath. Oh no, this was a bad idea. Now Patton was mad at him. And…and everything was going to fall apart…And Logan was going to get hurt…And it would be all his fault…And…

“Virgil, I need you to breathe for me. You remember the technique. In for four, hold for seven, out of eight. Come on Virgil, can you do that for me?” Patton urged, coaching him through the breathing technique. Patton placed one hand in the centre of Virgil’s chest and brought Virgil’s own hand to rest on his chest, encouraging him to match Patton’s breathing and eventually it evened out, allowing him to breathe easier. “Are you feeling better?”.

“Yeah,” Virgil murmured slumping back deeper into the couch, drawing his blanket to his chin. He suddenly felt really tried.

“Now Virgil, it is really important to tell an adult if you think someone may be being abused,” Patton explained. “Can you tell me who it is? Is it someone from your class?”.

“No, they’re not. It-it’s…,” Virgil hesitated. He was really going to do this. He was going to tell him. “It’s Logan,”.

Patton jolted violently, nearly leaping out of his seat, startling Virgil who forced himself to look up from his hands at Patton. His eyes were blown wide in a shock and his mouth was hanging open, his hands shook in his lap, mouth opening and closer as if he was struggling to find the right words.

“V-Virgil are you absolutely certain?” Patton asked a slight tremble present in his voice.

“Yeah, I saw the b-bruises on his arms and I heard the matrons talking about…about punishing him,” Virgil explained curling further into his hoodie. He was terrified but he needed to help Logan.

“Okay, okay. Thank you Virgil, I am going to get Logan out of there,” Patton assured pulling Virgil into his chest and for once he did not protest, instead allowing the contact, burrowing his face into Patton’s soft shirt. Patton’s warmth spreading throughout his body, filling with him a sense of security.

Logan wouldn’t be forced a wear a mask any longer. Patton would save him. Virgil knew he would. Just like he saved Virgil.

Patton didn’t sleep well that night, after what Virgil had told him. His mind was reeling and he had spent the majority of the night mentally flicking through the signs of abuse, matching them to Logan’s recent behaviour and he couldn’t believe he hadn’t realised it sooner. He hadn’t noticed. Any actions he was initially concerned about, he chalked up to his troubling past but fresh bruises. Someone inside the Orphanage was hurting Logan and Patton hadn’t noticed.

Patton spent the morning yawning through his routine, rubbing sleep from his eyes and fighting against the overwhelming temptation to crawl back into bed to sleep the rest of the day away but sadly work came first. Once Roman and Virgil departed for school, he settled himself on the couch, a pile of paperwork sat waiting to be sorted on the coffee table but the Logan situation never once left his mind. Patton wasn’t quite sure when he dozed off, his eyes drifting shut, his head lolling back, his papers discarded in his lap.

“P…Pat….Patton!” Emile shouted as Patton jolted awake, his eyes taking seconds to adjust to the change in light, his paperwork fell out of his lap and scattered across the floor.

“Oh sorry Emile, I must have fallen asleep,” Patton said scramble to retrieve his fallen papers, Emile crouched beside him to help.

“Are you alright Patton, it’s not like you to take a nap in the middle of the day?” Emile asked handing Patton the rest of his paperwork.

“I’m totally fine, just had a lot on my mind last night,” Patton assured returning to his seat on the couch, Emile joined him at his side. He hoped his vague answer to prevent Emile from pressing any further but unfortunately it was Emile, whose profession required him to press for information but secretly Patton wanted someone to talk to about everything going on in his head.

“I’m listening,” Emile said placing a single hand on Patton’s thigh, rubbing soft circles into the muscle.

“Well firstly, the school called yesterday and they want to offer me a full-time position after the summer holidays. So, the next few weeks will be a little chaotic with paperwork and interviews,” Patton explained lowering his head. The job opportunity was incredible. He would finally be able to teach a class, to make an impact in the lives of many more children but all of the preparation for the career change allowed little time to visit Logan. Who needed him more now than ever before.

“Patton,” Emile said presumably having had noticed Patton’s change in demeanour and was coaxing him to continue.

“Well, now I don’t have a lot of time to visit Logan and…and Virgil told me something last night about…a-about Logan,” Patton continued Emile inched closer as Patton’s breath hitched. “He told me that someone inside the Orphanage was hurting Logan, he saw the bruises and I didn’t. How did I not notice?”.

Patton dropped his head into his hands, hot tears streaming down his cheeks, muffling sobs in his palms. Emile immediately wrapped him in a hug, pulling him against his chest, allowing him to cry openly. Releasing the wave of emotions he had kept locked inside until he had cried himself out, slumping against Emile’s chest, pathetically sniffling into his shirt. Until Patton heard a pained whine and was met with the tearful gaze of his youngest who insistently pawed at his trousers, attempting to crawl his way into Patton’s lap. Tears flowing as he struggled.

“Aw baby, what’s wrong?” Patton asked immediately pulling Dee into his lap who in turn threw his chubby little arms around Patton’s neck, the quiet whimpers bringing yet more tears to Patton stinging eyes.

“Daddy sad,” Dee murmured his voice muffled by sobs.

“I think he is worried about you,” Emile said rubbing comforting circles into Patton’s back.

“Baby, daddy is okay. See,” Patton said stretching his lips upwards into a smile which Dee mimicked before curling himself into Patton’s chest once again, eventually nodding off. “Emile?”.

“Yes, Patton,” Emile replied.

“What should I do?” Patton pleaded hiding his tear stained face in Dee’s curls.

“That is up to you Patton, but I know you’ll make the right decision,” Emile said with a warm smile which Patton returned before resting his head on Emile’s shoulder, suddenly exhausted from his rather emotional outburst.

Patton would do everything in his power to take Logan away from that place, to take away his pain, to hold him in his arms at long last and call him his son. No matter how long it took or the difficulties he faced along the way. Logan was his son in every way other than name.

And it was time Patton changed that.

Tag list: @poems-art-darkness-n-more @i-do-not-dislike-fudge @alex-cain @darkrainbow333 @amber1594 @falseh0od @lovingcreatorstrawberry @mason-does-a-thing @callboxkat @tacohippy56900 @anxiousangel121 @comicsimpson @harrypotternerdprincess @cobythinks @whatschooldoesntteachyou @fandomkitty8 @coloursintheblur @read-write-inspire-repeat @clinicalawesomeness

[nancywheelxr]

Hi! I'm the guy whose ask got eaten. It was basically where Eudora notices that Diego sometimes responds/glances up when people say the words two/too/to and she learns some things about his past. That's an ineloquent way to put it but I'm sure if you decide to do it that it'll be great. ^^' Love your work!

Hey there, thank you so much! Sorry for the ordeal, but here it is, hope you like it!

*

Diego needs his boxing gloves.

And he needs to be at the gym in fifteen minutes but if he doesn’t find his gloves, he’ll have to borrow and that’s just a nightmare and–

“Yeah?” He calls, already halfway into their closet, because he could swear Eudora had called him. These gloves have got to be here somewhere, though. “Eudora?”

A full minute of silence goes by before he realizes something is wrong, before he replies her voice in his head and his answer, looking for what he could have said wrong or what he could have misheard and– shit.

“Diego?” She’s at the doorway, and when he turns, she’s frowning concernedly.

“You didn’t call me, did you?” He asks tiredly, feeling the impending doom of the normalcy of their relationship about to blow up in his face. For a second, he just stays there, watching her, memorizing the free, unguarded way she looks at him now. Because god knows this is the point of no return. “I can explain.”

“Why you keep answering to anything that sounds like two?”

The word still sends him a wave of nausea.

“Yeah, but it’s,” he swallows back the word complicated. It’s not complicated, it’s pretty straight-forward, actually. His father was a piece of shit who refused to give them names and instead slapped a number on their foreheads. “It’s fucked up.”

Eudora doesn’t sigh, she exhales heavily and takes his hand, tugging him to the bed. Her eyes soften, round and warm like always, and Diego kind of wants to cry, hold her in his arms and ask her to forget the whole thing. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” she says quietly, his hand still in hers, “but Diego, you have to know that there’s nothing you could say that would scare me away.”

“You don’t know that,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair, “my past, there’s a lot of shit there.”

“Yeah, well, no shit. You think I don’t know that? I love you, all of you, I only want to help, to understand.”

Diego manages a laugh, brittle and devoid of any humor, and steps an inch past the line– he tells her about the names and the numbers, eases her in the world of the Umbrella Academy, the behind the scenes cut.

And then, he waits for the inevitable snowball of pity that must be incoming, not even bothering to brace himself.

“You were right,” she says finally, and her eyes are shining steel. “It is fucked up. Do you want me to arrest him? I’m against police brutality but we can hope he resists arrest?”

Now, Diego barks a laugh again, a small huff of a thing, and it sounds less like something is breaking because this is Eudora– fierce and beautiful– still there, still watching him with the same clear gaze, no sign of anything syrupy condescending staining it an it’s better than anything he could have predicted.

So he kisses her, and forgets all about the gym and the gloves. There are a lot more skeletons in his closet, but it’s a tiny bit easier to believe her when she says he can trust her with the key.

[oshyoideum]

EDIT/NOTE/WHATEVER: it’s actually repost of post from 2018 but it never showed in the searches so why the fuck not try again (literally copy-pasted it so)

Okay, so my first real work here on Tumblr, of course it had to be fanfic xD Upon inspiration from @actuallydeglace and her wonderful fanfic “Marrow” I wrote KimiSaku ‘cause who can stop me!? Welp.

I used one of @theradiointukyshead ‘s AUs.

Enjoy, I hope xD

It’s fucking long (4992 words)… could be longer but still long

AU: i come to get my laundry in the basement at like 3 a.m. and WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU WEARING ALL WHITE TO PRACTICE YOUR VIOLIN IN THAT DARK CORNER??

    Sakura was sitting alone in her dorm room munching (quite loudly) on her very tasty and very unhealthy chips while trying to focus on her notes. She was studying the material for the next test for few hours now and… what was the time? Shit, it’s almost three in the morning… I want to sleep… Sakura sniffed quietly after checking the time on her phone.

   The biggest test from anatomy was around the corner and the girl’s poor nerves were not helping her to prepare at all. In the past few days she was angry almost all the time, she wasn’t sleeping enough (three or four hours of precious sleep definitely were not doing her good) and due to lack of time her meals contained only of junk food and occasional fruit (bless Ino). On the contrary though she was very well prepared now studying only a few last topics so her misery hopefully won’t go to waste (It definitely won’t go to waste!  Sakura said to herself as one more negative thought crept into her mind. She was working so hard, she will definitely not only pass but will get a very good grade as well, there is no other way, is there? No.)

   After stuffing another fist of chips into her mouth, Sakura got up from her rather uncomfortable chair (but it had backrest so she wasn’t slouching! She promised herself to find at least one positive with everything she was hating in this tiring time) and did some stretching so she would be able to feel all of her limbs again. She glanced for a second on her small collection of empty cans of energy drinks and three empty as well mugs of coffee. Wow… I’m so lucky Ino went somewhere tonight ‘cause she’d definitely start lecturing me and that’s the last thing I need right now. She quickly started to get rid of the proof of her crime: crushed all cans and put them in the trash can, rest of the chips shoved in the little gap between wall and her bed where she put all of her ‘shape murderers’ as Ino liked to call junk food, she did nothing with the mugs yet but she will later wash them.

   Okay, so she almost cleaned the crime scene (aka her desk), that’s good. But she got this feeling that she forgot about something. She looked around the room searching for some sign and after a few minutes of staring at nothing in particular (losing focus again, are we?) she saw at the corner of her eye laundry basket that should be full of her dirty clothes but actually wasn’t. So that was the thing! Few hours ago she went to laundry room to do her laundry and she went back to her room so she wouldn’t waste any more of her precious time needed to study. And she forgot about it. Wow.

   She put on one of her baggy hoodies and some convers and sighing loudly took her basket in one hand and keys to the room in the other and dragged herself out of it. Like a responsible girl she is, she locked her dorm (why would she take keys if she wasn’t going to lock the door? Maybe self-defense but she has fists so kind of no). After few seconds of listening to some distant music probably from upstairs she finally started to walk. She felt her muscles ache from all the sitting in the recent times but she couldn’t even go to do some exercises at the gym because of lack of any free time. Eh, what a drag.

   When she reached the bottom floor she stopped in front of stairs which led to the basement where her destined point - laundry room - was. Who thought it would be a good idea to put laundry room in the basement!? Students don’t want to go to the basement at three in the morning! (Well, no one who actually does their laundry at normal time of day.) What if there are some monsters or even worse - what if there are some drunk people who will throw up on her fresh clean clothes!? Disaster!

   At some point of her internal complaining Sakura thought she heard something from the dark corridor below. But she must have misheard, right? There was literally no reason for anyone beside her to be down there. She knew she was the only one who did laundry in the evening that day and she was one hundred percent sure that none of her fellow students would go down there to get broom or something to clean at night. So she must have misheard. There was no other rational explanation. And she was a little high on the caffeine that was still in her body and overly tired after her passionate date with anatomy textbook.

 Yup, misheard.

   But, as she started to take steps to get down the mysterious sound occurred once again. There was very little possibility that maybe her ears finally started playing tricks on her after all the excited screams Naruto was producing every day or loud music Ino liked to turn on when she was dressing herself or really anything else.

   When the sound didn’t stop this time Sakura started to get nervous. Her heart rate increased and her hands started to get sweaty. After watching so many horror films with her friends her mind was able to create some pretty impressive scenarios of what might have been down there. She probably should just turn around and run to her very safe dorm to her very safe bed. But she was too exhausted to listen to her rational side and she needed those clothes! What would she wear to tomorrow lectures? She put almost everything she had in the washing machine so beside her actual attire consisting of sports shorts, old top and hoodie her only other piece of clothing was little black dress (very short and very backless). So she REALLY needed to get her ass down there, scare whatever there was, collect her things and run for her life! Okay, should work she decided.

   As she was taking more steps towards this cursed basement she realized that the sound was actually pretty nice. Was it violin? She listened closely and indeed, the mysterious sound was violin. Very nice violin actually, slow peaceful music was filling the staircase. It was very relaxing theme and Sakura decided she could listen to this beautiful notes all eternity if she have had the chance. It made her loose up a little and she even smiled at the thought of someone playing such masterpiece at three in the basement.

    Right, if there was sound there has to be a musician too! That realization made Sakura open her eyes widely and stare into the darkness. What if there was a ghost? She didn’t know how to deal with ghosts!

   I need clothes, there is nothing in there, that’s just hallucination Sakura started to repeat it like a mantra in her mind.

Okay, so I’m going down slowly. Nothing to worry about, I’m sure…

I bet there is a ghost!

Shut up! There isn’t a ghost! I’m just very tired!

Yeah, so tired that you just started talking to yourself.

Hmpf…

And you know what that means? Psychosis!

   Sakura growled low under her breath and pulled herself together. She just went quickly two steps at a time and jumped from a few which lasted. And then:

 “AAAHHH!”

   Sakura screamed at the top her lungs upon seeing a ghost. A GHOST! She stumbled backwards and fell on the stairs bruising her hip and elbow and everything! She just wanted to get up and get the hell out of there. In the brief second of courage she looked up and saw someone who looked equally as scared as she was (but this ‘someone’ wasn’t laying on the floor). This person was wearing a white shirt and also white pants and… didn’t have shoes. The only light that was illuminating was from open doors to the laundry room and it was very dim creepily white light.

   Between her sharp fast breathes Sakura looked at the pale face of ‘the ghost’ and found herself shocked. She knew this person! White, quite long hair were gathered into well-maintained man bun with a red hair tie. Under person’s eyes were dark a little reddish circles (does no one in this college sleep? Probably.) and these eyes, these beautiful eyes in bottle green color she could not describe enough to give them justice (where is all this poetry she read sometime when she needs it!?).

 “Kimimaro!?”

   The man didn’t looked so startled after realizing that screaming being was Sakura, small med student who sometimes talked with him about music and a lot of different things. And whom he actually really liked and always enjoyed her company.

    He put his violin down and walked over to the girl still lying half on the flat floor half on the stairs and offered her a hand she gladly accepted. He gently pulled her up and gave her her dropped laundry basket and keys.

 “Hello, Sakura.” Said Kimimaro with small polite nod.

 “What are you even doing here!? And with… with a violin!?” Sakura was still recovering from traumatizing event and was shaking a little while frantically gesticulating with her free hand.

   Knowing how to calm her (sometimes she’d came to him really angry and he learned a few little tricks) he took her small hand into his bigger one and started to gently draw small circles with his thumb. With his other hand he took a loose strand of her pink hair and brushed it behind her ear. For a moment he was stroking her cheek with his knuckles and kept doing so until her breathing started to normalize. That was it, his language of choice - touching and feeling and she seemed to like it too.

 “So, did you calm a little?”

   Sakura closed her eyes for a few second and then opened them with a sigh.

 “Yes, thank you.” She looked into his eyes only to see worry and uncertainty. Why was he worried? “What are you doing here hiding in the shadows like that?”

 “Well,” He let go of her hand and suddenly she felt very cold in this particular place even though she also felt nice tingle around her fingers and at the back of her hand and on the cheek. It was this kind of feeling that made her a little bit more happy. “Kabuto is studying in our dorm…”

 “Did he kick you out!? If he did I will kick his ass!” Sakura interrupted him before he had a chance to end his sentence.

 “No, no need to worry” He looked into her eyes with such gentleness and delicacy that she almost could feel her heart breaking but with the happiness. He touched her shoulder and then forehead. Under his soft long fingers she relaxed her furrowed brows. It was strange to her that this man, Kimimaro, was able to calm her down and put at ease better that her lifetime friend. “I just wanted to practice a little and did not want to disturb him.”

 “Okay… but why in the basement? Why at night?” she took a quick glimpse of his bare feet “And where are your shoes?”

   Suddenly Kimimaro looked kind of sheepish when he avoided Sakura’s eyes and rubbed the back of his neck.

 “Well, I couldn’t sleep and… I’ll show you.” He said while turning his back to the girl and walked towards the case of his violin. He took out a piece of paper and asked her to come closer where there was a little more light.

   She took the paper and started reading.

 “Dear Mr. Kaguya. We are looking for new talents, blah blah blah, you’re fine work may result in becoming one of the most renowned composers. Ha! Told you so.“ She looked up with the happy grin before continuing. “ Blah blah blah, and we are honored to inform that you have been chosen to play as one of the few young prodigies at our autumn concert at the opera! Oh my god, that’s wonderful!”

   Sakura let go of her basket and practically jumped on the completely unsuspecting man. She hugged him tightly around his neck trying not to crease the letter too much. After the first wave of shock Kimimaro reciprocated her hug almost as tight. His embrace was warm like the first sun in the spring after months of cold or like a cup of hot chocolate during said cold months of winter. He smelled like wood of which his violin has been made of and soap but what soap exactly she couldn’t tell.

   After a while she backed out a little and put her free hand on his cheek and moved it slowly to the side of his neck and finally shoulder.

 “I’m genuinely so proud of you. Even though I’m not in a position to be but you just… worked so hard and you love it and put so much of yourself in it… I’m really happy for you.”

 “Thank you.” He said with little content smile and released her from his embrace. “It… means a lot actually.” (Did he blushed a little or shadows and light were playing with her? She couldn’t tell.)

 “No problem. That’s what friends are for.” She flashed him her happy grin and collected her things from the floor. “So that’s why you couldn’t sleep. You must be very excited.”

 “Pretty much, yes.”

 “Wow, this is really awesome. I wish you the best, you know.” She stated with a soft smile and smirked. “But you still haven’t told me why you’re not wearing shoes and why exactly are you practicing in the basement.”

  She stared deeply straight into his eyes. Now he was definitely blushing and his embarrassment was so adorable it put Sakura into even better mood. (How was it possible when half an hour ago she was miserable? Maybe he was some kind of mystical creature who was bringing happiness, who knows.)

   She pointed on her basket. “You can tell me while I take my clothes, okay?”

   And not really waiting for him she entered quite big place with a lot of washing machines. (Good washing machines with dryers.) She placed basket on one on them and opened two machines she used and started taking her clothes out of one. Kimimaro placed his violin down next to Sakura’s container and stood next to her to help her. He was standing really close to her, she could feel heat of his body on her bare legs.

 “So…?” She nudged hum slightly.

 “I was playing here because this corridor has decent acoustics.”

 “Okay, so this is understandable even though I’m pretty sure there are some better places with good acoustics than basement.” She gave him a side look. “But nevermind… Shoes. Why you don’t wear shoes?

 “Ach…” He scratched his head while giving her a few shirts. “They are here” he pointed next to the door “but I took them off.”

 “I can see that. I’m not stupid, you know.”

 “I would never suggest such a thing”

 “I know… ugh, I’m just do tireeed.” She whined stuffing the last piece of clothing to her definitely too small basket. (How did she bring here all this in this stupid thing?). “I’ll drop the shoes topic, maybe you just felt like being barefoot, I don’t know.”

 “Maybe.” He let out a small chuckle. What a pretty sound she decided. She wanted to take her full basket but was stopped by pale warm palm on her hand.

 “Please, let me help.” She considered the offer for a second. She definitely could carry it back to her room but who was she to deny such a nice offer. She nodded only and waited until he put on his damned shoes and took the basket. She took her keys and his violin and they both exited laundry place. His shoulder brushed lightly against her as they were going up the stairs.

 “So… you going back to Kabuto? ‘Cause you know, you can sleep with me.”

   She processed words that came out of her mouth only when she saw surprised expression on Kimimaro’s face.

 “Oh fuck! That’s not what I meant!” Even though I can’t deny I would want to… I’D TAP THAT! “Sleep with me as in with me in my dorm! Ino went somewhere and she probably won’t come back until a lot later so there is one bed empty.”

 “Oh” My god, was he disappointed!? “It would be nice actually, Kabuto can be a little grumpybefore exams.” The understatement of the year.

 “Tell no more. I was studying with him twice and please no more! They say ‘three times a charm’ but not in this case, there won’t be a third time. No way ever! Nu-uh!”

  Oh, he chuckled again. Sakura could swear this was one of the best sounds she ever heard in her life and she heard a lot. She smiled at him and they walked to her room in pleasant silence disturbed only by distant music.

   Once inside the dorm Kimimaro set the basket on the floor while Sakura gently put his violin on a windowsill. She kicked her shoes of and made a gesture with her arm presenting the whole, not so big, place.

 “Welcome to my little kingdom where nerves get shattered.” She bowed theatrically “Make yourself at home.”

 “Thanks.” He said smiling. He walked over to her desk and looked and her textbook and dirty mugs. “I see you’ve been studying as well. That is why you were doing laundry so late?”

 “Yeah, big test soon. Anatomy, dreadful. I normally like it but in the last week I slept only twenty hours out of hundred sixty eight that are in the whole week. I know, I counted.”

 “It is not good for your health.” Oh, he was worried again. It was nice.

 “Yup. But what can I do? Gotta be a doctor so gotta study hard.” She said with a fake chirpiness in her voice as her arms slumped. Kimimaro put his hand reassuringly on Sakura’s back and rubbed for a while. He didn’t know what to say but he knew that she’d understand his little gesture.

   Sakura focused on warm spot on her back when his hand rested. She started to feel a little tingle in her insides which was… pleasant to her surprise. She wasn’t surprised of her obvious attraction but rather of feeling of connection if she could name it like that.

   She straightened her back and moved a little away from the man. She took off her hoodie and threw it on the chair.

 “I’m gonna take a shower. You can go sleep or read some book… or wait if you want to shower too. I’ll be back in a while.”

   She went to the bathroom and took her clothes off. She looked at her reflection in the mirror while having an internal battle with her shame, morals and want.

Do it.

It’s stupid. Stupid! I can’t.

Do. It. Make

Stop! Don’t you dare end this sentence.

Make your dreams come true…

But I’m not sure if it’s appropriate…

It isn’t. Just. Fucking. DO. IT!

ALL RIGHT! Stop talking!

I’m you so you’re the one talking.

 “Smartass.”

   She took a towel, wrapped herself in it and without much thought went out.

   Kimimaro sat on her bed with some book. Upon hearing the door open he looked up to see practically naked girl looking at him with fire in her eyes. It was unexpected even though he wanted her to look at him like that for some time now. He couldn’t help himself not to eye her toned legs a little but he quickly looked back at her face.

   Sakura was overall very confident but suddenly she felt uncertain. “Well…” Oh, to hell with that. “Would you maybe like to take a shower together? You know… to… to save the water!” To save the water!? It’s the worst excuse you could come up with. Yeah? Then tell me a better one! …fair enough.

   Okay, so this definitely wasn’t one of her proudest moments. She wasn’t as good in seducing as Ino! (If it even can count as seducing.) But she stood strong trying to look confident and at least a little sultry.

   Kimimaro stared at her blankly for a few seconds processing the situation. He knew Sakura could be straightforward but he’d never thought such a bold move was in her repertoire. So he just smirked (Sakura was sure that if her self-control would have been any less her knees would just give up by now upon seeing this beautiful sexy face with such an expression. Hot damn.) and played along.

 “Since saving the Earth is the most important I do not see why not to take up on your offer.”

   Sakura backed down to the bathroom and threw at him the same towel she was wrapped in. She went into the shower and turned the water on. Warm, transparent liquid started to flow with a pleasant hum. Pink hair stuck to her bare shoulders, neck and high on her back. She moved them away from her face.

   Short after she saw her shower curtain move and felt the presence of another body behind her. He stood back to back with her. She turned around and moved her left hand to touch his shoulder. She felt his slight shiver under fingertips. Her hand moved a little down to his shoulder blade and under his arm to rest where his heart should be. She hugged him from the back feeling his rapid heartbeat. Did it beat so fast for her? She certainly hoped so because her heart beat so fast for him too.

   He moved her hands away to turn and face her. He looked into her glistening green eyes, so similar to his but so different. Full of emotion, of passion and happiness and desire. He leaned down a little and at the same time she stood on her tiptoes resting her hands on his shoulders for better balance. Their noses were now touching, They could feel each other’s breathes.

   She was the first to break the eye contact between them. She looked for a brief second on his lips and covered the little distance to finally touch them. She kissed him gently first, it felt almost like touch of a feather or butterfly’s wing. His lips were very soft and oh so perfect. Like made just for her.

   When she broke it, he pushed her lightly so she’d lean against tiles.

 “Kimimaro…” she let out with a satisfied sigh when he kissed her again. But this kiss wasn’t gentle and careful. It was very strong, full of passion and hunger. It was dangerous like fire during drought and sweet as fairy floss.

   He gripped her thighs and lifted her up. She put her legs around his waist. They were so close that even a sheet of paper wouldn’t fit between them.

   Between their heated kisses she was able to blindly find the tap and turn the water off. Then she hooked her arms around his neck with her hands in his white hair.

   He secured her with one hand on her bottom and kept caressing her back with the other. He walked out of  the shower and into the room.

   Without tripping on anything he walked to her bed. As they fell on the mattress he secured himself with one hand to not collapse on her.

   He gazed upon female body beneath him. He took in all of her smooth skin with scars here and there. All of her little beauty mark. He took in all of her.

 “I thought you were tired.” He said with quirked eyebrow.

   She knew why he said that. He wanted to give her exit if she wasn’t ready. Even though she should be the one to do so as she was the one who lured him.

 “I’m not anymore.” She propped slightly on her elbows. “Do you want to…?

  Kimimaro leaned forward until his lips reached her ear close enough to touch and whispered:

 “Why would I not?”

   He then licked the spot on her neck where the pulse was and blew on it. It resulted in shiver down her spine.

   He began moving down slowly, leaving feather like kisses on her neck, collarbone, chest. When he came to her breast, he left a few more around her nipples. He drew the tip of his around one of the nips and blew. Her breather hitched in her throat due to that sensation. He did the same with the other one. He sucked and bit on skin next to it. She arched her back with soft moan.

   He moved to her stomach where some of the scars where and he kisses every single one of them looking not to miss any.

   When he got to the legs he started with ankles and kept going higher and higher. He was trailing the path with his fingers on which his lips appeared after.

   All of this was like worshipping. He chose his own Goddess and he worshipped her body like he worshipped her mind any other day.

   When he came to her thighs she pulled him back to her lips and mumbled between her heavy breaths: “Stop teasing…”

    She reached out to her nightstand, opened the drawer and took out a small plastic package. Then she sat on her knees and gently pushed Kimimaro so he would sit down leaning against the wall. She put the package between her lips and moved closer to him on all fours. She slowly moved up sitting between his legs.

 “You look so… tasty I could devour you.” She whispered into his ear.

   His breath quickened as his hand roamed across her body.

   She moved down to be on eye level with his hard standing member. He twitched in reaction to her gentle touch. When the shaft from the bottom to the tip one of Kimimaro’s hand found its place in her hair and a few not-so-silent groans left his throat. She kissed the tip licking off the precum and moved back only to be met with disappointed sound from the man.

   She chuckled and opened the little package. She took condom out and looking straight into her lover’s eyes she ducked down again and slowly put in on his member licking not yet wrapped parts.

   Without much of a warning she positioned herself above him and quickly lowered herself on him so he was all inside. It resulted in loud moan from her at the feeling of complete fullness and stretching and groan from him at the feeling of her tightness.

   She rested her head in the crook of his neck breathing heavily just like him. He put his strong arms around her hugging her tightly.

   After a while she slowly started to move up and down, up and down. Their breather hitched. Loud moans and groans filled the whole of the room. They were moaning into each other’s ears while moving in a perfect sync.

   They were one now. One body and one soul. This was their moment.

   Sakura started to move faster. Her thighs were starting to ache but she didn’t think about it. She was focused only on her and his release. Her mind was clouded full only of the sounds of them making love.

   He put one of his hands lower on Sakura’s ass to keep her steady. He kept whispering to her ear how beautiful she was.

   She kissed him passionately feeling orgasm building in her stomach. They were both moving frantically until Sakura moaned and screamed loudly into his lips.

 “Ahh, Kimi… Kimimaro!” Her whole body was shaking when he helped her to ride out her orgasm. Not long after he himself felt his sweet release grunting.

   They both panted heavily and he pressed his forehead to hers. They looked each other in the eyes and listened to their quickened heartbeats in the silence.

   She got off him and laid down waiting for him to come back. He laid down next to her and took one of her hands in his and trailed little patterns on her skin.

   Sakura turned to lay on her belly putting her crossed arm on his chest and resting her chin on them. She was half laying on him but he didn’t seem to mind.

 “So…” she started not really knowing what to say.

 “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

  She laughed at the odd, considering the situation, question.

 “We messed up the order, didn’t we?”

 “I suppose we did.”

 “I’d love to go on a date with you.” She responded with a grin.

 “Good.” God, his smile will be the death of her.

   Not so later on they both fell asleep.

   Ino opened the door to her dorm without knocking.

 “Sakura! You won’t believe what…” The blonde girl stopped shocked.

   Well, Sakura was where she ought to be but she was naked and with this boy she kept talking on for some time.

   Well, well, well… what have we here. Ino took out her phone and with one of her most sinister grins snapped a few (around twenty) pictures of sleeping couple. So the material for blackmailing has been collected, now she had to make sure the lovebirds would have peace.

   She took Sakura’s phone from her nightstand and turned off all of the alarms. Haruno will be so mad but one lecture won’t make her any less smart, will it?

   Ino took one last glance on her best friend’s bed, took some clothes to change and as silently as she could went out of the room.

Okay.

That was it. My first ever facfic written in English and my first ever smut (I’m like 99% sure if this was more ‘porn like’ smut I would do better).

I think it’s decent xD

[mydearestcosette]

so, i’m in a production of les mis: school edition with my local community theatre (playing jean provauire/jehan) we open 2 weeks from today. here are some of my favorite stories/random things from rehearsal (so far!)

- my friend (playing cosette) is a lesbian. my other friend (playing marius) is gay. “a heart full of love” is pretty funny because they have NO chemistry aT ALL

- during the wedding scene, my friend said that marius and cosette aren’t good together because “he’s a lesbian, she’s gay” and now everyone says that

- we didn’t have choreography for the wedding scene so everyone did fortnite dances

- the barricade boys (myself included) stood in a circle t-posing during one of the battles

- our Javert has a very unique voice. its very low and he doesn’t enunciate that well so it kinda sounds like he has a cold all the time. (when i first saw him in a production of little shop I thought it was an accent) the cast likes to sing the entirety of “one day more” in this voice a lot

- one time marius came on late during “red and black” he said he was backstage but someone misheard him and said “you came from cosette’s hoT TUB????”

- this is now a cast joke

- out of the barricade boys, there are only three actual boys. enjolras is played by a girl who’s 5’9

- my friend and I made up a subplot where our characters are gay lovers and die holding hands on the barricade

- my friend (same friend who I’m gay lovers with) and I both have a crush on the girl playing cosette

- we both lowkey wanted to be Marius

- one time the whole cast started singing “sincerely me” and our music director said “THIS IS LES MIS, YOU SING LES MIS”

- we don’t have the set yet, and we won’t till the day before the show. this is very fun during the barricade scenes

- we also don’t have props (other than chairs and music stands) during “master of the house” i’m supposed to fall asleep on a table, but i had to use a music stand which promptly collapsed when i put my head on it.

- our Valjean has a crush on fantine and eVERYBODY knows about it. she doesn’t like him back which makes things kinda awkward

- also: cosette hates Valjean and she tries not to touch him during their scenes together, which... complicates things

- at least half the cast is gay

- everyone lowkey thinks our marius sucks and doesn’t sing with emotion. during “empty chairs at empty tables” i was backstage bitching about him with at least a third of the cast

i’ll update y’all as the show gets closer! more shenanigans are sure to come

update: from this week’s tech rehearsals

- one of the barricade boys broke his wrist :)

- the police officer during “look down” (the chain gang song) didn’t know this and shoved him to the ground.. he got even more hurt which is great :)))

- we got mics and had a few incidents of people talking backstage

- instead of shovels during “look down” we use brooms, and valjean has an umbrella

- valjean, javert, and enjolras did squats during “one day more”

- we rehearsed “one day more” a billion times... i never want to hear it again :/

- everyone does fortnite dances in the wings

[artificialqueens]

The Language of Flowers, Chapter 5 (Multi) - Albatross

AN: Alright the first finale is here, featuring Shinkx! I am glad that I am so close to finishing up this story; it was originally meant to be a one or two-parter almost exclusively focused on Trixya but well…you can see how that ended up.

Here are the flowers and their meanings that don’t get an explanation in the text: red dahlia - dishonesty, asphodel - regrets, columbine - deceived lovers and faithlessness, aster - symbol of love and trust, rain lilies - ‘i love you too’, chrysanthemums - precious one, rue - regret and repentance, daffodils/jonquil (they’re basically the same thing) - unrequited love/'please return my feelings’, foxglove - insecurity/unsure, ambrosia - 'your affections are returned.’

“I want it to say 'fuck you.’”

Well, there was no chance Jinkx had misheard what this woman had said and if the smeared makeup was anything to judge by; she certainly meant the sentiment. All the same, the request had left Jinkx shell-shocked where she stood. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a few flowers that would fit the description began to pop up; red dahlias and asphodel for starters, but she couldn’t bring herself to continue with this customer’s request. There was never a call to make a bouquet like this before and now that the opportunity presented itself, Jinkx wasn’t sure if she could fulfill the order. What could have possibly enraged this woman enough to ask for this?

Swallowing down her fear, knowing full well she was overstepping her boundaries, she asked timidly, “What made you want-Why us?”

Fighting back a fresh slew of tears, the woman spat out, “For the last three months someone has been giving me flowers from here and now I’m going to return the favor! I’m going to tell her exactly what I think of her!”

Three months? Jinkx wondered who could have possibly ordered so many bouquets in such a short time frame. No one has been a repeat customer that often except…Oh, no.

Katya!

Then this must be Trixie! She certainly matched Katya���s description now that Jinkx had a chance to really look at her; problem print top, hair teased up to the heavens and of course the make up that did look rather like she applied it with a trowel. It wasn’t hard to see where Katya had come up with that detested nickname of 'Barbie.’

But Trixie had loved all of the other bouquets! What had hap-The last one she ordered!

Jinkx hadn’t been the one to make it but Ivy had! What did she use?

Jinkx had sinking feeling she knew exactly what had gone so wrong but she needed to confirm it with Ivy. Very politely she excused herself to the back of the shop under the pretext of needing to check if they had the correct flowers in stock. For her part the woman she assumed to be Trixie was very patient, even as she was practically fuming at whatever arrangement Katya had unknowingly given her.

Almost sprinting past the door frame, Jinkx found Ivy taking a breather at the table. Knowing she must look half crazed as she rushed over, she frantically asked her, “That bouquet you made for Katya earlier-What was in it?”

Startled, Ivy replied haltingly as she tried to recall everything, “Um…Aster, toadflax…a bit of baby’s breath as filler…”

'No, none of those were wrong,’ Jinkx thought anxiously as Ivy continued to count off the remaining flowers on her fingers.

“Oh, I stuck in a few roses and carnations on the-

"What colors?” Jinkx interrupted abruptly.

“Yellow!” Ivy supplied with a smile. “They’re Trixie’s favorite color. They mean love…Don’t they?”

Ivy’s face fell as she started to realize that perhaps she might have made a mistake. Letting out a heavy sigh, Jinkx informed her, “The red ones do…or even white carnations in a pinch.”

Horrified at where the conversation was heading, Ivy asked shakily, “Then what does yellow mean?”

Forcing down a thick swallow, Jinkx admitted very reluctantly, “Disappointment…rejection…betrayal.”

Ivy was almost in tears as she heard the meanings and immediately began apologizing for messing things up so badly but Jinkx couldn’t let her take all of the blame. She knew Ivy was just following her cheat sheet at the work benches and no where on there had she listed all of the colors and symbolism for each flower, only the more common and generally more positive meanings. The inserts however…those were a bit more descriptive. This was all just one stupid mistake that could have been avoided if Jinkx had stopped herself earlier.

Feeling almost of the verge of tears herself, she confessed, “I think that’s Trixie out there…she’s pretty upset.”

“Oh my god,” Ivy exclaimed, “I’ll go talk to her! Apologize and expla-”

The clatter of a mug being set down on the counter cut her off and feeling like a weight had just dropped in her stomach, Jinkx turned her head towards the coffee maker to find Sharon staring meaningfully at the pair. There was no doubt she had overheard everything and she was far from happy.

“Sharon, I-” Jinkx began guiltily.

“I’ll talk to her,” the older blonde interjected firmly as she marched towards the shop front.

The remaining assistants shared a look and meekly poked their heads through the doorway. They were too far to hear what Sharon was saying but she put forth a sincerely apologetic face as she talked with Trixie. It was easy to see that whatever she said had not pleased Trixie in the least but she seemed accepting of the information, albeit very reluctantly. After a good five minutes of the pair speaking back and forth, the young blonde left the shop without another word and certainly no bouquet.

Jinkx was silently marveling at how Sharon managed to calm down the distraught young woman so easily but that thought quickly disappeared as Sharon turned towards the voyeuristic pair and stormed right back into the break room. She felt almost as intimidated by her boss as when she first started working there. Her hands played with the hem of her apron as she kept a very apologetic and remorseful face while she awaited Sharon’s arrival. Never before could she recall feeling so small and useless as she had in these last ten minutes.

Once Sharon was staring down the assistants again, Jinkx took the opportunity to ask hesitantly, “What did you say to her?”

“The truth; we don’t have any columbine at the moment but we’re expecting a new shipment of flowers for the arrangement course,” Sharon replied calmly.

Immensely confused, Jinkx asked, “You have an arrangement course?”

“I don’t, but you do…Saturday night,” Sharon declared unkindly. There was a little twitch in the corner of her lips as she added in sarcastically, “Hope you don’t have any plans.”

“What?!?” Jinkx exclaimed unhappily.

Undisturbed, the older blonde informed her, “Better get planning now…she’s going to be joining so she can make her own bouquet tailored just for Katya.”

Still unable to fully processed the information, she stammered, “But-how-”

“Ivy will help you…” her boss asserted firmly with a stony glance to the older assistant. Ivy looked startled that she would be included in this but at the arch of Sharon’s eyebrow challenging her to try and disagree, she quickly gave an eager and agreeable nod of her head. With a slight sneer in her voice, Sharon continued on to include, “And I imagine Courtney will also want a hand in this…she has for everything else.”

Grabbing her mug from the counter, Sharon planted herself at the table and dismissed her assistants to the front of the shop to begin planning what they’ll need. Before the redhead had a chance to disappear past the door frame, she called out, “And you might want to invite some other people too! It’ll look a little suspicious if there’s only two attendees!”

Oh, god this was going to be a mess.

***********

Jinkx had wasted little time in texting Courtney everything that had happened. There was no response for the longest time but later that night, Courtney was able to call her after Katya had finally fallen asleep. Jinkx felt her heart breaking inside as Courtney recounted the scene she had walked in on as soon as she arrived back at her apartment. Katya was in shambles, too shocked to even cry at how badly the last bouquet had been received and how much she had unintentionally hurt Trixie. It felt like adding salt to the wound as Jinkx informed her of how the mistake had came about; she tried her best to deflect the blame from Ivy but she got the feeling that Courtney was more upset with herself for encouraging Katya to use the bouquets to begin with.

As Jinkx explained the plan Sharon had roped all of them into, she heard a bit of relief in Courtney’s voice. She assured the redhead that she would find a few other people to attend the impromptu seminar and of course would make sure Katya would be there as well. While she added in the last part, Jinkx got the feeling it was likely to be easier said than done but she had faith Courtney would fulfill her end of the agreement.

To her credit, Violet was able to get a hold of a shipment of flowers and have them delivered in record time. Admittedly she wasn’t sure how much to order and perhaps went a little overboard with her estimate. Well, they could always use the rest for other orders but at least there was no lack of supplies for the class. The rest of the week Jinkx spent her time in a panic trying to decide what she should say and of course practicing everything in the privacy of her bathroom. It all felt clumsy and awkward but she needed to do her best for Katya. After all, if she had listened to Sharon and stopped while she was ahead, none of this would have happened.

She had to make things right!

The day of, Jinkx was racked with nerves. As the hours slowly ticked by she was more grateful than ever when the shop was busy. It took her mind away from what might happen later that night. She hoped everything would work out. It just had to.

Finally, the last customer left the store and Ivy and Jinkx began to clear out some of the space in order to make room for the breakaway tables and chairs. Being so last minute both women felt lucky they were able to find as many as they had, borrowing most and just for good measure, purchasing an extra table and a few chairs themselves until they had enough for a decent sized crowd. They had decided to use the alcove as the display area for the flowers their attendees would be able to select from, as well as Jinkx’s makeshift podium being that it was slightly elevated above the rest of the floor by a mere three steps.

Once they had finished, the layout didn’t look nearly as rushed and unplanned as expected. A few minutes passed before they heard the shop door opening for what they assumed to be the first student of the night. To their surprise, it was in fact Violet who walked in looking rather dolled up as though she had made plans then decided last minute to bail in favor of attending the class. She gave the girls a little wink as she sat herself in the first row and purposefully placed her coat over the neighboring chair.

“Sharon and I will be participating,” she said to no one in particular. “Thought it’d be good for us to learn how to make a proper bouquet finally.”

Both of the assistants rolled their eyes but Jinkx for one felt a bit relieved…at least until the young owner added in, “Plus I didn’t want to miss the show.”

Oh, god that did not help Jinkx’s nerves at all, particularly as more attendees began to file into the shop. It was hardly a surprise that Trixie was among the first wave to enter. She had taken an end seat at one the tables furthest away from the door and naturally kept well away from the rest of the crowd loitering closer to the middle rows. She seemed to show a little bit of discomfort, perhaps even having second thoughts, and Jinkx was oddly reassured by that. Maybe there was hope yet that Trixie would be able to understand the mistake and forgive Katya for accidental offense.

It was getting closer and closer to the official start time of the class yet Courtney and Katya were no where in sight. Jinkx was nervously biting her nails as Ivy tried her best to calm her down. Though she was touched by the effort, the attempt did little to ease the nausea in her stomach.

Had Katya refused to show up? Was she a sobbing mess in her apartment? And where was Sharon?!?

Smoking had never tempted Jinkx before but as the minutes slowly ticked by she increasingly began considering taking a cigarette from Sharon’s hidden stash and hiding out back for the rest of the night. Then to her relief, the shop’s bell rang for the first time in the last 15 minutes and revealed Katya filing in with both Courtney and Willam close behind her. She looked tired and unhappy at first, then downright miserable as soon as she spotted Trixie at the far end of the room.

She tried to turn around and leave but to Jinkx’s surprise, Willam was the one to stop her with a quick glare. Meekly, the blonde quietly made her way towards an empty set of chairs in the second to last row and sat down. Courtney sat next to her, running her hand soothingly along the younger woman’s arm, while Willam hopped up on the table behind them and began tapping away at her phone. Seems she might just be there as the muscle to make sure Katya stays for the full duration of the class.

Jinkx didn’t miss the note of apprehension in Katya’s eyes as she glanced towards Trixie. The young blonde seemed on the verge of tears again even as she placed a scowl on her face and refused to give into the temptation of looking back at Katya. In fact, she almost seemed ready to storm out in anger.

Then like a perfectly timed force of nature herself, Sharon made her entrance from the other side of the room. Her heels clicked steadily as she crossed the shop’s floor to take the empty seat by Violet’s side. Jinkx was left in awe that Sharon’s mere presence, wordlessly no less, had cut the chatter down to almost nothing and encouraged most of the standing attendees to take their seats and turn towards the alcove.

Bracing herself as best as she could, Jinkx swallowed her nerves and took her place at the top of the short set of stairs. At Sharon’s encouraging nod, she announced with more confidence than she actually felt, “Alright everyone, please take your seats! We’re going to be starting in just a minute.”

To her mild shock the class actually listened and those that were previously still standing quickly found empty chairs until nearly every space had been filled. Jinkx’s hands were shaking as the last person quieted down and everyone’s attention became focused on her. Taking a deep breath, she began her well-practiced mini lecture, “Good evening, class. Tonight I’ll be explaining some of the basics in the art of flower arrangement, as well as giving you a brief introduction to floriography, also called 'the language of flowers.’”

Taking a short pause to catch her breath before her nerves overwhelmed her, Jinkx cast her gaze around the room and settled on the friendly faces of Willam and Courtney in the back. Continuing on, the redhead emphasized, “As easy as it might seem at first to create a bouquet; there are actually a number of subtleties you need to be conscious of before you start picking flowers at random…First, you need to decide if you want your flowers to convey a particular message…If not, then you have more freedom in what you can select…however, if the message is the point of the bouquet then you need to be aware of one; what meaning each flower has and two; how that meaning can change.”

Here Jinkx stopped again for a moment to gather her courage to move on with the next section of her lecture. Noticing her hesitance, Sharon gave her another reassuring nod and a small encouraging smile.

Feeling just a tad braver, she explained to the class, “For instance, not all flowers have the same meanings across cultures. An example would be the peony; in Japan it can symbolize bravery but in the US it could represent shame or anger…Even within the same culture, a meaning can change…Two people might develop their own symbolism for a plant, something apart from what the mainstream has assigned…”

Causally letting her line of sight be drawn in Trixie’s direction, Jinks further elaborated, “Another example of how this practice can get tricky is that depending on the color being used, a flower’s message could also be altered. Take for instance a rose…”

At this Trixie perked up in her seat, her eyes catching Jinkx’s for a brief moment before the redhead moved on. “Most people know that a rose is usually used to symbolize love or affection…and typically those roses are going to be red…But if someone where to give say, a white rose, that could mean 'purity’ or 'innocence’ or even 'secrecy’…Blue has been interpreted by some as 'mysterious’ while pairing red and white together can symbolize 'unity’ or 'solidarity’.”

Flicking her eyes back in Katya’s direction, Jinkx found the blonde eagerly listening to what she was saying as the gears noticeably began turning inside her head.

Almost reluctantly, Jinkx went on to explain in a serious manner, “Even just a single color can have different or conflicting meanings…

Yellow for instance…” she added in pointedly, “can sometimes mean 'friendship’ or 'joy’ and other times it could mean 'betrayal’ or even be used for an apology…There are times when you have to look at the other flowers in the bouquet to figure what message the sender is really trying to convey…”

Very deliberately, more than she ought to, Jinkx turned her attention strictly towards Trixie, and stated gently, “It can be easy to assume the worst, especially if you are unsure of their feelings…that’s why it’s necessary not to rely on the flowers alone.”

Shifting her sight back on Katya, the redhead suggested, “You can include a note with the bouquet or better yet, just talk with the person you are giving the flowers to…Though it might seem romantic or safe at first to leave an arrangement for them to find on their own…it can lead to a misunderstanding…especially if you’re not really explaining how you actually feel.”

Letting her eyes roam over the rest of the class, she warned, “Part of why using floriography fell out of practice was because there was so much ambiguity involved with plants and their meanings. It can be fun sending secret messages back and forth but both parties need to understand and agree on what meaning they are assigning to each plant…” Motioning towards the flowers and plants around her, Jinkx added, “Tonight you all will be creating your own bouquets with a special message of your own choice…On the tables you’ll find a list of all the flowers we have available for you to use and their more common meanings…Take a minute to review the list and then come up here in a single file line to select your flowers…”

As a number of the students began talking amongst themselves about what to select, Jinkx noticed that both Katya and Trixie were staring at one another with an interesting mix of emotions expressed across their faces. Katya was apologetic and fidgety, clearly understanding just what had gone wrong with the bouquet she had selected for Trixie. As for the young woman in question, there seemed to be a twinge of guilt in her eyes as she nervously bit the inside of her lip. To her credit, it looks as though the thought that the bouquet might have been the result of an innocent mistake occurred to her as well. Now she just had to decide how to react to it…

After what felt like hours of shifting her attention between the two women and the growing crowd of attendees in the alcove, Jinkx was able to let out a soft sigh of relief as the pair broke eye contact to stare pensively at the papers in front of them. All that was left was to wait and see if the seeds she had planted in their minds would take root and motivate them to finally talk with one another.

With one final piece of advice for the rest of the class as they began carrying their flowers back to their station, Jinkx called out, “And don’t forget to pick up some of the filler plants on your way back as well; you’re going to need more than you think!”

**********

Nearly two hours later, the class was concluding and Jinkx had never felt more relieved in her life. Though Trixie and Katya still had yet to talk to each other, she was quick to take notice of what flowers each woman had used in her bouquet. For her part Katya gave the white, yellow and pink themed bouquet a second chance, this time making sure that the flowers used were ones that truly represented how she felt.

As for Trixie, her bouquet was a bit louder, having shoved in rain lilies, chrysanthemums and of course, plenty of rue until the vase was overflowing from all sides. But despite how ardent she seemed to be to apologize, she hadn’t quite dared to look over in Katya’s direction for over an hour. Not since a round of bickering was heard from Courtney and Willam regarding the dirty blonde’s more imaginative use for the flowers…

And to Jinkx’s amusement, both Violet and Sharon were working on their own bouquets…

She had to admit, they did look a lot better than their previous attempts when she first began working there. Violet’s bouquet was finished already, focusing not so much on the flowers meanings but simply on what looked good. As for Sharon; she was still toying with most of her flowers, occasionally taking apart the bouquet as though arrangement she had begun wasn’t good enough. For right now, it still remained half finished at her table before she gave up to join Jinkx in the alcove. Though she hid her intentions better than Jinkx had, she also seemed to be just as curious as to what would happen next with the pair of young blondes.

Taking the increased chatter from the crowd as a cue to wrap things up, Jinkx announced, “It looks like pretty much everyone has finished their bouquets so let’s call it a night…Please feel free to take your arrangements home with you…you can keep them for yourselves, give them to someone else-”

“Whatever gets you out of here quicker,” Sharon mumbled under her breath until Jinkx elbowed her in the side a little.

The redhead was giving her mild scolding look until a loud call of “Bill!” caught their attention.

“What are you doing?” the blonde demanded with fiery red cheeks as the dirty blonde dragged her towards the exit.

Though she was trying her best to sound outraged, Jinkx noticed that she was hardly putting up a fight. She missed most of what Willam had said in response but the last few words seemed to be ’-home with me.’

Whatever she had said quickly shut Courtney up and without another word she allowed herself to be ushered away from the shop walking hand in hand with the dirty blonde. As they left a few stray flowers and petals fell from Courtney’s hair onto the shop floor.

'Great,’ Jinkx thought sarcastically, 'More to clean up.’

“She’s going to be late tomorrow,” Sharon commented with a hint of knowing smile on her lips.

Before Jinkx could find the brain power to question that little scene further, she found her attention being drawn back to Katya as Violet all but shoved her in Trixie’s direction. Her hands were clasped nervously around her vase and even from the distance, Jinkx could see the flowers shaking as she held it out to Trixie. At almost the same time, the young blonde had extended her own bouquet towards Katya, stopping just an inch or two short before they otherwise would have knocked against one another.

Giving a nervous laugh, Trixie pushed back a lock of hair and shyly offered a few muffled words that Jinkx would have bet anything were an apology. Straining to hear the conversation as most of the crowd began to exit the building, it seemed that Katya had fallen prey to her nervous nature and was blurting out anything that came to mind. Jinkx was almost rushing down to cut in and help her out but Sharon’s firm hold on her shoulder stopped her before she was even able to move an inch. The look the older blonde gave her clearly said, 'Trust her…she can handle this.’

Nodding, Jinkx held her tongue and watched as Trixie’s expression shifted from one of stunned silence to fond understanding. Setting her vase on the table beside them, she pushed Katya’s out of the way and clasped a hand over her mouth to stop the onslaught that had been rapidly spilling from her lips. The older woman’s eyes were wide as she quickly shut herself up and waited for Trixie to make the next move. If it were possible, Jinkx would swear that she saw Katya’s hands close ever tighter around her vase as she heard Trixie state with perfect clarity, “I like you…Do you like me?”

Immediately Katya was nodding her head and it was a small guess to say she was trying to speak again even though Trixie’s hand still cut off any sound she might have made. Unconcerned with what the elder blonde might be saying, she instead asked, “The other bouquets, did you mean them…what the flowers said?”

Even from the distance Jinkx could hear the emphatic muffled “Yes” that escaped through Trixie’s fingers. Smiling even brighter, the young woman asked her final questions even as the pink slowly rose behind her heavy makeup, “Do you want to go grab a coffee? Talk this out some more?”

With her eyes beginning to shine from many unshed tears, Katya eagerly nodded her head and no sooner had Trixie’s hand left her mouth could Jinkx see a matching smile on her lips. If anything it might have been even wider than Trixie’s as she showed off her teeth smeared with just a hint of her smudged ruby lipstick.

Whatever the pair said following that was unheard but Jinkx’s heart fluttered as she saw them finally exchanging their bouquets and exit the shop holding hands much like Willam and Courtney had done earlier. They were hardly past the door before Sharon stated casually, “I think they’re gonna be okay.”

“Yeah,” Jinkx replied happily, “I think so, too.”

The next half hour flew by as Violet, Ivy, Sharon and Jinkx cleaned up the shop. There was a bit of a mess on the floor here and there, mostly from plucked leaves or cut stems, but between four people the work was soon finished. All that remained was a single table still filled with the miscellaneous flowers Sharon had intended to use for her bouquet. She finally returned to finishing her arrangement under the watchful eye of Jinkx now that there was nothing else in the shop for her to be concerned with.

Jinkx was watching her with an amused smile for several minutes as she placed the unused flowers with the rest of the shop’s stock for tomorrow. Hardly noticing until they were almost out the door, Ivy and Violet made a near silent exit now that everything had been mostly taken care of. On her way out, the youngest owner caught Jinkx’s attention as the bell rang and jutted her head meaningfully towards the area Sharon was working at. Confused, Jinkx raked her eyes across the table until a very misplaced flower caught her attention; a lone gardenia sitting off by the far corner well away from everything Sharon was currently working with.

Feeling a light blush on her cheeks, she gave Violet a quick nod and moved closer to her boss’s side.

“Sharon?” she called out as her fingers began toying with one of the broken stems left sitting out. As soon as the blonde turned her head up, Jinkx apologized, “I’m sorry, you were completely right before…I should have listened to you.”

With a forgiving smile, Sharon paused in her work and reassured her young assistant, “You meant well…It was a cute idea.”

“I promise, no more meddling,” the redhead stated resolutely.

Chuckling just a little before resuming her task, Sharon replied, “Good, glad to hear it.”

Still playing with the stem in her hand, Jinkx’s eyes drifted to the singular gardenia still sitting out as she mustered her courage to ask softly, “So which is your favorite?…Flower, I mean?”

Shrugging, Sharon replied mildly, “Haven’t really thought about it before.”

“You’ve got time now…” the redhead trailed off as she flicked the stem into the trash and shyly slid one of the leftover lists across the table.

“I guess…” Sharon drawled out after a short pause to review the options, “I kind of identify with daffodils…They fit me.”

Jinkx felt her throat tense as she recalled all of the meanings she had listed beside the picture of the bright yellow flower. Her cheeks were slowly heating up but she couldn’t find the words to speak. She just prayed she wasn’t overthinking what was happening.

“What do you think?” Sharon asked as she motioned towards her now finished bouquet.

Withdrawing from her head space, Jinkx studied the arrangement Sharon had worked so hard on for most of the night. Unsurprisingly there was a healthy amount of jonquil in the vase but also a number of toadflax and foxglove. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she decided to take a chance and replied, “It looks great…Just needs a little something more…”

Spinning around, Jinkx dashed up to the alcove and swiftly pulled out some of the leftover greenery from its temporary storage container in the basin of water. Placing a few strategic pieces in amongst the other flowers, Jinkx met Sharon’s curious gaze and mentioned softly, “Ambrosia…”

Sharon’s eyes darted back to the sheet but as she scanned for the meaning of the flower, Jinkx wrapped her hand around Sharon’s and pressed a light kiss to her cheek. Stepping back she found her boss looking almost as pink as Katya had been earlier. Her eyes were wide as she tried to interpret just what to make of her young assistant’s actions. As Jinkx saw Sharon’s gaze drop back to the list in front of her, she cleaned up the rest of the workspace around Sharon and began walking towards the door. Almost at the frame she called out to her still shocked boss, “See you tomorrow.”

It sounded more like a question but all she could focus on was how fast her heart was racing in her chest. As she started pushing the door open, the bell sounded once more and Sharon shot up from her seat like she’d been electrocuted. With her voice shaking from nerves, the blonde rapidly babbled, “Hey, Jinkx? Do you want to go grab a drink? Right now?”

“Like a date?” she inquired with a hopeful smile.

“Like a date,” Sharon confirmed with a relieved grin of her own as she caught up with the redhead.

Biting back the smile from overtaking her face she replied with a simple heartfelt, “I’d love to.”

[fly-pow-bye]

DuckTales 2017 - “The Ballad of Duke Baloney!”

Story by: Francisco Angones, Madison Bateman, Colleen Evanson, Christian Magalhaes, Bob Snow

Written by: Colleen Evanson

Storyboarded by: Jean-Sebastien Duclos, Mike Morris, Sam King

Directed by: Jason Zurek

Not full of balogna.

Here’s an interesting way to start this "ballad": begin with a scene from the season finale that didn't really have a conclusion. I just saw as a good way to include a beloved villain in a montage filled with cameos from previous episodes. There was clearly more to this story, but it wasn't important compared to the whole "sorceress just took over the entire town" plot.

In particular, Glomgold’s shadow ends up throwing him into the ocean. As he shouts “curse you, me”, he ends up nearly drowning, only to be saved by some fishers.

Specifically, he wakes up to find himself caught in a net. Glomgold reacts as well as one would expect, telling these fishermen to get their hands off of him. Turns out, that's not the right word to say.

Lady: Whoa, fisherperson?

The "gag" with her is that she wants everything to be more socially conscious, though I'm not sure if this is supposed to be one. Their names, from left to right, are Fisher and Mann, something Fisher point out almost immediately to defend this stranger's wrong word. Glomgold isn't having it, and asks them if they knows who he is. They don't, as they're simple fisherpeople. He tries to exclaim in a dramatic way, until he realizes...

...even he doesn’t know. Yes, this episode starts with that cliche where someone loses all of his memories after a bump in the head, or a bunch of water going through it in this case. However, they use this as an excuse.

After the theme song, we cut to a report showing what exactly happened between Glomgold’s disappearance and now. A new CEO just barged into Glomgold’s absence, as she literally pushes away his silhouette to reveal herself. Her name is Zan Owlson. I swear, I misheard it as Van Owlsing, and that still made sense. Glomgold is practically a vampire compared to her.

Even the newsreporter decides to tell the viewers that this new CEO is not insane. We get a small bio of her past: she was the top of her class, and she ran a charity called Change for Chicks! No, Johnny Bravo, she means literal chicks. Unlike her predecessor, she cuts a lot of funding dedicated to revenge and sharks. Even moreso unlike her predecessor, she is completely open to make deals with long-time rival company McDuck Enterprises, as we see her shake hands with its CEO.

In other words, she’s exactly the opposite of Glomgold in every way, as enhanced by the news cutting to a Simpsons-esque file photo gag of him eating shrimp in an unflattering manner at a charity auction. Maybe the one from The Golden Lagoon from Agony Plains?

It’s also shown by the old Glomgold logo being replaced by a treasure chest filled with a bunch of people. She doesn’t even include herself in this, definitely not something Glomgold would do.

Zan Owlson: At Glomgold Industries, our community is the greatest treasure of all.

She even makes an outright reference to the Glomgold motto that Glomgold just made up to get those henchmen he hired to like him in Woo-oo. What happened to those guys?

We cut from the newsreport, which we barely get back to, to a fisherperson's wharf, where Louie and Webby are planning on going fishing. While it’s a day in the limelight episode for Glomgold, that doesn’t mean we don’t get to see the nephews and honorary niece.

Webby is all about hunting fish in a more barbaric way with a stick, while Louie just wants to fish with a fishing rod. Louie is more of the straight man here, though they seem to swap back and forth between scenes depending on one's viewpoint. They do realize that they forgot one thing that would help them immensely, and there happens to be someone with a South African accent.

While his beard was dyed by several unfortunate squid ink-related accidents and his accent has changed, it’s clearly the duck that attempted to kill them and their uncle several times over. They react very similarly to Bart and Lisa Simpson reacting to Sideshow Bob, but this bearded guy has no idea who this Glomgold guy is.

He rechristened himself “Duke Baloney”, just like the humble sandwich meat, in his words. This does not go well with Louie, who already makes the obvious quip about his name. Webby has to take him aside to talk about this.

Webby and Louie get into their conflict, though for Webby, it's a little less defined and more just "she doesn't agree with Louie's idea". Louie thinks this is all just an act, and he even says he should know because it takes a con artist to know one. Webby, on the other hand, thinks that he really is suffering from this and needs to go back to his old self. Either that, or maybe this is Glomgold turning into a good person like a reverse werewolf, her reasoning changes throughout the episode.

They do humor the idea that maybe this guy is just a different person altogether, but then he gets caught in his own rope trap.

Duke Baloney: Curse you, rope!

Louie & Webby: It’s him.

This is a slight hint that this will probably not be permanent. That would be an odd way to write off a huge arch-nemesis!

Glomgold invites them over to what I now realize is the closest TV-Y7-FV equivalent to a bar, offering them a bucket of fish heads, to Louie's disapproval. I’m sure real ducks eat a lot worse than that.

Webby tries to show off a Missing poster with Glomgold on it that also seems to function as a wanted poster due to tax evasion! Oh, how unrealistic, everyone knows rich people always get away with that. Unfortunately, all this gets is scorn from Baloney’s fellow crewmates for even suggesting he’s related to that tyrant. This is a "bully-free zone" according to that one fisherperson, after all. That's pretty much it for the socially conscious aspect of her character.

Even Louie joins in on this chants along with everyone else. Sure, he was totally against the guy, but the boy just wants his free Pep! However, Webby notices the money happens to have a very fancy money clip. They decide to stay back to investigate this from afar.

A general theme that pops up in this episode is that Duke Baloney may have amnesia, but his inner Glomgold continues to show more and more. This especially comes in once we see a McDuck Enterprise company get involved. While this doesn't entirely revive his memory, he does get a sudden dislike for "that boat."

This is especially shown with disagreements with his fellow crewmembers. The crewmembers are okay with being #2, However, considering #1 is owned the richest duck in the world, I wouldn't blame them for not wanting to fight a battle they can't win. Duke Baloney, on the other hand, doesn't see that as impossible.

One clever bit is that he does the cliche “look at me, I’m a pretty lady and not a trap” gag, and realizes he could get more fish if he did something for the ladies, too. He never does realize that, if this plan did work, he would get some really messy fish guts. All in all, aside from the dynamite, he just seems like this misunderstood guy who’s down on his luck.

At least, that's what Webby thinks. Louie accuses her of being naive about this, as that’s what she assumed when she was a humble deliveryman and a humble pastry chef. Yeah, Louie, you invited him to a party, if I remember correctly.

While looking at Baloney trying to convince his fellow co-fisherpeople to do a plan that is oddly similar to that Scottish guy. Webby & Louie, continuing to spy on this kind fellow to confirm their different suspicions. Louie says that he's going to be thrown in a pit full of sharks with bombs strapped on to them. Webby says that's ridiculous...

...and we immediately cut to Duke Baloney's plan to get fish, which just happened to get to the part involving sharks with bombs strapped onto them. They don't have womp womp music, they're not that blatant most of the time.

This whole scene is funny, though; it's just like that scene from The Infernal Internship of Mark Beaks where Glomgold details his plan with similar drawing. Speaking of plots that weren't resolved in the episode that could use a continuation...that one. Louie and Webby still can't see what any of this could prove, so Webby has an idea that Louie is not a big fan of: record investigation!

Granted, Louie getting hit in the face probably didn't help in any way. I like how the next scene shows Louie walking into Webby’s investigation room. See, anything can have a consequence, even slight gags like that one.

She gets out her board, with a drawing of the moneyclip, a picture of Glomgold, and a picture of Duke Baloney, and...nothing else. She couldn't find anything. Not only is there no record of Duke Baloney, there’s no record of Flintheart Glomgold before he came to America.

In order to find more information and possibly either reveal Glomgold's evil plan or bring Glomgold back to normal, they decide to do a plan involving a certain rich duck. If one can ask why would they want to bring Glomgold back to his former self to terrorize the McDucks, just wait.

Meanwhile, in Duke Baloney’s dreams, we see a bizarre sequence full of odd imagery. Some of it is obviously referencing what will happen in the future, some of which possibly not even in this episode. One of the big ones that isn’t addressed again is that shot on the bottom left. Everyone knows Glomgold is evil, but…is there a more spiritual reason we don’t know about?

That’s not the only unanswered question, either. The shortest description I could say is that he constantly gets a message from what looks like his younger self that the boiler room is out, who slowly turns into Zan Owlson. No connection is made to how Glomgold would be familiar enough with the new CEO to have her appear in his dreams, since all of this happened after he got amnesia.

While most of this dream sequence's symbolism is subtle, there is one line that just whacks you right in the head.

Duke Baloney: This GOLD! It’s GLOOMING onto me!

Yeah, that’s pretty forced. It's at the end of the dream sequence, they may have felt that they needed something blatant at the end to make him wake up.

He wakes up, and his final reaction to all of this? To essentially tell himself to "never mind all that." Hey, it’s not like those dreams mean anything, anyway!

While Duke Baloney is getting welcomed into the family of fisherpeople and telling himself that nothing can possibly ruin this day, in comes Scrooge McDuck. He was invited by Webby and Louie the to talk it out to see what's really going on.

We don't get to hear their conversations, and neither do Louie and Webby, so Webby tries to read their lips. Of course, she does it in a way that makes it seem like she was right all along, even making them say "oh, that Webby was correct all along, huh? I wish I was his housekeeper's granddaughter!" However, while she may be able to read lips, the next move shocks both her and Louie. They look like they're going to fight...

...and then they hug it out. After all the time of Webby seemingly succeeding at everything she does throughout Season 1, it’s a little refreshing to see her actually be wrong for a change. Nobody’s perfect...I learned that with the last episode. Scrooge tells them he's far happier this way, and they should just let him be Duke Baloney.

Webby and Louie accept this, and decide to go back to their initial plan of fishing. However, a storm is brewing.

Duke Baloney, who somehow has that missing/wanted poster, decides that even if he was this Glomgold fellow, he wants his life at the sea. He throws the paper, but it hits him right in the face, symbolically proving that any kind of face turn with him is ultimately futile.

The storm starts happening, and Baloney sees Webby and Louie in trouble. Being the hero that he is now, he tries to. However, he gets hit by, and ends up nearly drowning in the same way he did in the beginning of the episode.

We get another scene from Baloney’s subconscious, but this time we get an outright memory rather than symbolism. In particular: this one is right from one of Baloney’s repressed memories. I decided that outright spoiling it wouldn’t add anything to the review, but the best hint I could give is that I really do mean Baloney’s repressed memories. That shot from the dream I had on the top right is a pretty good hint of foreshadowing this, too.

I will say this: the first thing I did after watching this episode was look up whether or not any of this had any basis in the original comics. The simple answer is not really. While Scrooge first meets Glomgold in South Africa, Glomgold was already grown-up and clearly evil from day one. This flashback adds another dimension to that entirely.

There is one important-to-the-plot takeaway from this, a literal one, I might add, but I’ll talk about it later.

Everyone’s cheering him on to save the kids, and it appears that maybe, just maybe...no, of course not. What did you think was going to happen? No, he made his decision. He says it in such an epic way, that I decided to make this a GIF. A really small GIF to fit Tumblr's restrictions, but I had to keep that animation as smooth as it was.

Duke, er, Flintheart Glomgold: (in his usual Scottish accent) Because I'm Flintheart Glomgold...and I always will be! Ha ha ha ha ha!

I know I implied that I didn't want to spoil, but this scene is just so amazing. It's a lot smoother, they needed to animate it on the ones. It's an impressive sight seeing him laugh with all that lightning behind him.

I did give him a little bit of a That seems to work in his favor, as he happened to have his a spare grey beard in this pocket this whole time. It makes more sense when you watch the episode, trust me.

We somehow fade to him being surrounded by his crewmembers and their friends under very calm weather. This is the one scene transition that doesn't really add up to me. Was the storm in his head the whole time? These former crewmembers only accuse Glomgold of stealing from children rather than attempted murder, which seems to go with that theory.

One thing's for sure: Duke Baloney has left the building, and now it’s Glomgold’s time forever. He starts a Glomgold chant that even he expects no one will join in, as he dives into the water.

This chant continues with him going into his formerly owned organization, where Scrooge was talking with Zan Owlson about how using nickels would save more money than dimes.

Scrooge and Glomgold making a big deal, mostly due to Glomgold still having an all-important money clip, referenced. Yeah, Scrooge treats it like it’s this big deal, suggesting there’s something more to it than just gold. Honestly, considering the Number One Dime twist in The Shadow war, it could be anything at this point.

Also, I am so glad they apparently didn’t decide to push the reset button to prevent any potential plots with Van Owlson, since she barely did anything in this episode other than show her apparent benevolence. Quite a few plot points to this new story arc...at least, I hope it’s a new story arc. I have no reason to believe it’s not.

Oh yeah, and no Dewey in the episode for the first time ever. Not even a mention. How weird!

How does it stack up?

Despite only having an A plot, it is indeed an A plot this time. I can’t wait to see what happens next with this future plot this time. There's some very interesting twists to the classic Glomgold character, and I’d say it could pay off in the future. No bologna here, that’s for sure.

Next, America may not be getting their cartoon, but they will be getting their DuckTales 2017 appearance!

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