#We’re Hispanic we’re usually not that tall

[beann-e]

hi I was on u-tube and saw a bakugou playlist for when he can’t sleep and I thought well , since I just hit 200 followers ( tysm;3 I love everyone who even took the time out of their day to press follow ) why not bring them this idea of y/n not being able to sleep & bakubabe lending his beautifully different services

also abt the sero line I have in here— I personally think it’d be cool if he just learned Spanish because, he has an interest in other cultures and languages but I don’t really see him being actually hispanic

also I really like writing baku bc he’s so rough with everything he says & I kin him so he’s the easiest so, I hope no one thinks I write him too much

Reader with bad mental health & bakugou lends a hand in his own way

No one cares and no one ever asks. Or at least that’s how you felt while standing here in your last period class your hands balled up in fist tightly held at your chest

Your head was pounding and body was aching you couldn’t describe why you were feeling so horrible all of a sudden but

you just were

maybe it was from all the nights you couldn’t fall aleep due to overthinking

maybe it was the way you got stuck on your phone or even your head dropped low eyes trailing over words in a book just trying to find something to take your mind off the fact that you were struggling

whatever the case was

right now in this last period class this wasn’t helping

“ look shitty woman “ you heard the boy huff “ I want to get a good score on this paired project and right now your fucking this up for me “

his anger was visibly present even if his voice was low to where only you could hear the annoyance that sat in it had everyone looking around for the culprit of the sudden change in the air

“ and I don’t like fuckups so get whatever you have going on together and let’s do this —ok? “

you shook your head and let out a soft ‘ok ‘

the fight ending quickly with bakugou staring down on you his hands on his knees face made up in anger “ you keep finding a way to fuck with me “

“ I didn’t even do anything to you “ your voice was soft and tired

his eyes squinting before sighing

“ I didn’t do anything to anyone “

“ cut this shit out right now “ he pulled you up off the ground hands in fists gripping at your shirt standing you up with his muscles alone “ get to your room — sleep off whatever the fucks going on with you “

His eyes dead set on you as you walked off everyone from the class watching as you failed to gain the strength to open the big doors that led you to your shared dorms

“ sero plea— “

“ got it hermosa “

“ really dude “

“ look it’s hot — and just cause we’re in japan doesn’t mean I can’t show off my online spanish lessons “

“ whatever “ denkis voice whined as he shook his head holding the other door open for you “ gonna get some sleep y/n ? “

you ignored the two boys head hung low as you walked to your room door

the strength appearing in your body as you opened it but, quickly dispersing when you found your bed.

Your face hitting your favorite pillow hand coming up to cradle underneath it as you sat on your knees butt high in the air tears coming out pouring into your blankets “ I won’t show — I won’t show it — I won’t get bad again “ you repeated like a chant

The light from outside disappearing as the day grew into night

several footsteps heard departing from your door when you didn’t answer the knocks . Their low calls of dinner was done , lunch was in the microwave , that you’d missed movie time , that you missed denkis attempt of asking jirou out , and todorokis miss understood question of what ‘ cuddles ‘ were when denki offered her his body to do so

“ and you assholes didn’t just think to open the door? ”

your bedroom door swinging open in a crash as the knob hit the wall behind it creating a hole

“ fucking assholes bothering me with this shit “

“ we didn’t even call you out of your room “

“ you came over to her room on your ow— “

bakugous hand moved swiftly to slam the door in their faces

“ bakubro we’ve been trying to get in there all day and your just—“

“ gonna close the door on us “ denki finished in annoyance “ seriously I just know y/n needs my charm right now “

he pouted behind the door “ it always cheers her up and I like her lau— “

“ didn’t ask to hear your fucking crush story charger base “

“ ass — kiri let’s go “

“ so no sleepy boob pics?“

bakugou stiffened hearing the purples freaks voice

“ so I came with you guys because you said she was sad and usually when girls are sad they don’t dres— “

bakugous voice was guttural as he put his forehead to the door voice loud enough for the boy to hear

“ hey — hey purple nurple “

“ I-uh — yes bakugou “

“ come here “ he could hear the small shuffle of feet to the door as he smirked softly

“ put your tiny head to the door — actually press your whole body up to the door —all the way “

“ are you trying to help me get one of y/n’s bras god —- of all people to help I never thought it’d be bakugo—“

“ hey just shh ok — you don’t want to ruin it right and make her wake up right “ he groaned inside his mind

“ she’s slept this long and through all of this— I can’t get you her bra if your loud right purple zit “

“ so so smart “

“ ok so here it is “

the room grew silent as bakugou pressed his palm as low as he could placing it on the door away from his standing body breathing in to suppress his anger so , he didn’t let out a major blast due to his mood

sighing before he felt his hand grow sweaty tiny pops coming out

“ hey bakugou —is my princess ok ? sounds like popcorn in there are her tit—“

it was quick as the door had a hole in it the newly created circle having black burn scratches on it as mineta laid burnt on the floor once purple body now black and smoke wafting off it

Bakugou squatting as he put his left hand above the hole to steady himself and his right one reaching out through it as he grimaced in pain at the stretch his fingers finally wrapping around minetas short body fingers interlocking around his neck as he looked through the new hole in the door eyes piercing into the boy he held

his voice low and dominating “ you ever come back to her room on some creep shit — and I blow your fucking brains out do you hear me “

“ y-yes sir “ mineta let out dazed “ I will stick to yao-“

“ that goes for all the girls you hear me — guys included I know your a little pervy fuck you can’t get your hands on girls underwear you’ll move on to dekus shitty tidy whities”

mineta was silent as bakugou threw him back on the floor watching as he crawled off

his body relaxing as he shook his mind burning.

head in his hands before wiping his face in exhaustion and standing up and turning to you when he felt the air in the room shift , his hands out in jazz hands and a fake smile on his face.

“ ta da “ he was met with your sitting body your pillow covering him from seeing you .

your face dropping in shock moving from his tall figure that stood inching over to the now huge hole that he was trying to hide from you

“ k-katsuki “

“ I told you about that “

“ s-sorry “

“ again I told you about that shit “ his gaze was hard on you

“ do it again and i’ll tell shitty hair to harden in the next hug he gives you — since you and that crappy puppy boy are always touching “ he mumbled

“ bakugou why are you — why does my door have a hole in it “

“ don’t worry about it “

“ h- w-how can I not worry about it my doors black“ you screamed in confusion “ it used to be brown bakugou “

“ bakugou it used to be this — bakugou — katsuki oh my gosh i’m sorry — god do you ever shut the fuck up and just be thankful “ he mocked you soon converting back to his anger ridden voice

“ and whats with this pillow take it away from you — I wanna see your fucked up face “

you sighed bringing the pillow from in front of your head his eyes having a look run through them that you couldn’t figure out but you knew it had something to do with how puffy your eyes felt . Even if they weren’t puffy or couldn’t get puffy you’d never known for a fact because it still felt like they were .

You two stared at each other as the silence grew louder him shoving his hands in his pocket before taking out the packet of pills he’d gotten for you shaking them to show you it wasn’t a weapon like Mr.Aizawa thought after finding him returning to school late and shaking him down like a police officer

his hand putting them on your desk

His other one throwing the water he found in the kitchen to your bed “ not throwing you the pills — need you to move around so you gotta come get em‘ “

your face showed no emotion as he nodded understanding the new tense and uncomfortable emotions thats were present “ ... ok — well got a green headed vegetable to go bully so “

you watched as his hands gripped the door swinging it open as you dropped your head eyes moving to the water in front of you “ why can’t I do anything right “

you cried “ why can’t the world — the days — the stars fucking align for me to feel good for once huh “

you felt even more tears prickle your eyes as your voice grew louder “ why can’t I talk to people without having this voice in the back of my mind screaming — raging like its having a party — why can’t I sit in silence without having to stand up every five seconds and move around because my body screams for attention — for movement because i’ve been sitting still for 5 seconds “

you heard the faint click of the door mouth still moving as if he were still there

“ why can’t I speak what I feel when people ask me“ you laughed shortly “ not like they do — because they can’t tell I just mask so well “

you let your face start to feel heavy and tense as you continued your crying rant into the empty room “ and most importantly why was I so bad at everything “ your eyebrows furrowed

“ why am I so bad at today ? “

“ just a day really ? “ you heard the taller males voice came out questioning

“ just today that’s what your worried about “

“ well I “

“ tch “ he shook his head before turning to face away from you his face dropping into a look he didn’t want you to see.

“ I-i’m sor— “ you knew he didn’t like you saying sorry or even using his first name you two had established that when he finally accepted your friendship or in his words

‘ you can hang around —like shitty hair but one sniff of blabber mouth and your gone ‘

“ I didn’t mean to spill to you I just — I — you can go —no one gives a shit anyways “

“ I will “

your body grew sad at his quick response

“ tell me what your most upset about “

your answer came quick as you let your brain take over “ I wake up in the middle of the night and can never fall back asleep when I do “

he moved to your door for a second time opening it to leave before pausing for a second speaking something to where you couldn’t hear much less make out

“ just knock “

he shook his head before closing the door softly to rival his usual mood.

Your body shaking when you finally realized you’d spilled out your mental thoughts to bakugou letting your body calm down before you grabbed the pills and silently thanked your friend before feeling yourself at some time finally fall asleep

It’s been days since you last felt that horrible it never stopped but you were able to hide it even more and live out your life the happiest you could

until one night you found you beating yourself up surprisingly not in real life but in your dreams

a loud gasp leaving your mouth as you sat up calming down only to bring your knees to your chest arms wrapped around them in a hug

your back moving to the wall to feel comforted after only feeling your cold hands and body wrapped around yourself

“ what I would give to have something warm “

‘warm ‘

your mind raced to bakugou trying to push the thoughts out your mind of him actually being a caring boyfriend who could help you like he did nights ago with bringing you medicine, a boyfriend who would let you snuggle into him and take all his warmt—

stop the track cause that song will never play you thought as you started to think about him again face made up in determination and focus as you tried to remember what he said that night feeling stupid when you finally remembered your quirk

the quirk that brought you pain and contributed to your mental health

your quirk allowed you to take pictures of everyone’s last moments you’d spent together with your thoughts

it was good in some aspects like right now when you could finally remember where sato helped you hide your candy bars from yourself so you wouldn’t indulge in them 2weeks ago

at the same time you can see your problem with it when the last moment you had of your mother was her kissing you goodbye before shapeshifting into a fire extinguisher and landing in your fathers hands as he screamed at you to run out of your home and get more help the last image you seeing of your father was him spraying the fire extinguisher all over the stove in hopes to calm it down before it spread but he couldn’t

it didn’t help when the pictures replayed in your mind like video home movies that you didn’t want to watch

whenever your quirk was used everything spun in your head like a movie reel the downside was it made you watch every single picture you’d taken until you found the one you were looking for

it didn’t take long before you finished your mom and dads memory and got to bakugous last moment you two spent together

you zooming in reading his lips turning up the volume on the moment as he spoke “just knock “

“ just knock ? “ you sat confused in your spot on the bed shaking off your quirk taking as long as needed to process his words only to be even more confused and just knocking on the wall twice between your two shared dorm rooms.

You never paid much attention to him being your neighbor it’s not like you needed him for anything so right now you were a bit curious in why he reminded you that you two shared walls

Eyes closing while you waited for whatever was supposed to happen

“ guess he didn’t mean it like th—“

your body softened when you heard music fill his room and overflow into yours

You heard the drums kick in as the lyrics played muffled through your wall

‘I listened to the cure

I listened to the cure

I listened to the cure

and then I cried ‘

your eyes widened before you felt your body relax against the wall eyebrows made up in content

eyes watering when you heard your two soft knocks returned on the wall behind you

you let your body go tenseness leaving as the song played moving to grab your phone with shaky hands seeing his name light up on your screen

Godzilla wannab

‘ no one gives a shit about your life right ? ‘

you cried even harder when you saw the message fit the song perfectly the words you spoke a couple days ago as if your were singing the lyrics

you looked around your room before falling on the dent he left in your wall grabbing your phone and zooming in on it to take a picture and sending it to him

Godzilla wannab

sorry your room was just so ass you needed some redecorating be thankful people tend to cry when I redecorate—just ask deku

you laughed as you seen him prepare to send a new message your heart swelling when you read it

Godzilla wannab

look this is gonna sound sus as fuck but

you bit your lip at the new message

‘ if you can’t sleep come over — your rooms cold as fuck and I know that pillow your hugging’s not doing shit ‘

[datleggy]

i’m not sure if this is a good prompt but i’d love to see something based off of jealous eddie in the new episode. established relationship with buck reassuring him about how he and taylor are just good friends. maybe getting together with a first kiss. i love all your work, but don’t feel like you need to write this if it doesn’t spark anything. thank you!

so i haven’t had a chance to watch the new episode yet, but i’ve seen gifs of jealous!eddie and it’s given me life lmao so here we go 

Taylor is at the station...again. And that’s fine. Totally fine, Eddie tells himself over and over in his head, as he watches Buck moon over the reporter. 

A week ago Eddie was content with his life and everyone’s place in it. Or so he thought, until he realized exactly why he was so bothered by Taylors presence at the station. All thanks to Chimney and his extraordinarily large mouth. 

Eddie huffs, annoyed just thinking about it. He’d been in the locker room after a long shift, and Buck had run in and changed faster than lightning, barely taking the time to tie his shoelaces. Eddie had asked if he wanted to come over and grab a beer, maybe play some video games with him and Christopher, but Buck had politely declined. “Sorry man, I’ve got plans with Taylor, she’s waiting outside for me. I’ll see you guys Monday! Bye!” He’d waved and sped out of the station before Eddie could so much as think of an appropriate response. 

Chim had laughed and said something that had most definitely struck a nerve, whether he’d intended it to or not.��“Hey, cheer up, there’s other fish in the sea.” 

And Eddie had thought in that instance: But I don’t want anyone else. 

The very next day he’d broken things off with Ana. She’d been more confused than anything, initially, wondering if maybe she’d done something wrong, which had prompted Eddie to spill his guts to her about these decidedly romantic feelings he’s been harboring for his best friend. 

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize, not until last night, or I wouldn’t have dragged you into this, I just--” He’d tried to explain, tongue tied and at a loss. Ana was perfect, after all. Intelligent, a self possessed woman with ambition, good humor; she got along just swell with Christopher, and she was gorgeous to boot. But... 

“Hey,” Ana had taken one of his hands into her own and squeezed gently, comfortingly. “So...this sucks. Because I really do like you Edmundo. A lot. But I am glad you were able to sort your feelings out. I know--especially growing up in a Hispanic household--how difficult it can be to come to that kind of conclusion. Have you...told him, yet?” 

Eddie had shaken his head no, “Um, actually? You’re the first person I’ve told.” 

That had come as a huge surprise to Ana, who, though heartbroken, had still offered a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on, in the future. 

Now, a week later, Eddie still hasn’t said a single word of this to anyone else. Not to Hen or Chim, not to his Captain--though sometimes the way Bobby looks over at him makes Eddie think the man knows something--and most definitely not to Buck himself. 

Instead, he departs from the crew, shoulders stiff, irritation spiking, and makes his way to the bunks. Which is where Buck finds him a few minutes later, sulking. 

“You ok?” 

Eddie’s head swivels towards the entrance and he can’t help but frown at the tall figure standing there. It’s all Bucks fault, with the way his hair goes poofy with strawberry curls when it’s humid outside and those dumb contagious too-wide smiles of his and that look on his face when he gets hyped whenever he gets a chance to share any of the million factoids he’s learned--all of it makes Eddie want to rush up to him and kiss his stupid face. 

“Eddie?” And suddenly said face is right in front of his, just inches away, and Buck is waving a concerned hand in front of him. “Earth to Eddie, you alright?” 

Eddie blinks and quickly backs away, nearly falling off the other side of the bed, if not for the fact that Buck springs into action, one long arm going around Eddie’s back and holding him upright.

Now they’re impossibly close and Buck is staring at him all wide eyed and breathing kind of funny and Eddie is swaying forward ever so slightly, not breaking eye contact. He’s not sure what it is he’s doing, except that his hand is now caressing the side of Buck’s face and Buck is leaning into it and Eddie's tilting his head to the side and then their lips are meeting at the middle and Eddie can only describe the feeling as sparks of electricity bursting in his chest.

It's only when they finally pull away that reality comes crashing back down around Eddie and white hot panic sets in. "Shit! Shit, I'm sorry. I--that wasn't supposed to--I mean--" he covers his face with the hand that had been cradling Buck's cheek not five seconds ago and it's warm and butterflies flutter around in his belly.

Buck sits back on the bunk and clears his throat, "Um, I thought you and Ana were..."

Eddie looks up instantly, "No, no, we broke it off last week. Or, I guess I did..."

Buck nods. "Oh."

Eddie slides his sweaty palms across his pants and looks away, nervous. "I didn't mean to kiss you." Not when he knows Buck is dating Taylor. Not when she's literally in the other fucking room. Jesus Christ what is he even doing?

If Eddie were looking he would see the hurt that flashes across Buck's face for a split second before he's able to school his expression. "Right. Yeah." He lets out a faint impression of his usually boisterous laughter. "Who wants to be a rebound, right?" And then he's up and gone.

There's a tension hanging in the air between Buck and Eddie after the incident and no matter how badly Eddie tries to pretend it's not there it lingers.

It's Friday night when Eddie rallies and asks Buck out for a beer. Christopher is at his aunt's for the night and it's been a while since the last time they hung out together, just the two of them, so he figures it’s worth a shot. 

He’s in the middle of asking Buck to go to a bar with him when who but none other than Taylor pops out from behind Buck, making the two of them jump. She tilts her head back and laughs at their expressions of surprise and Eddie wants to gag at how impeccably pretty she is with all that long red hair and those pumps on her feet that make her legs look like they go for miles. 

“I got bored of waiting for you in the lot, c’mon, happy hour’s almost over.” she bumps her shoulder into his playfully and Eddie watches heartbroken as Buck gives her one of his charming megawatt grins. Taylor notices him staring and smiles politely. “Hey firefighter Diaz, didn’t see you there--we’re gonna’ hit Bahama Mama, you should come with us.” 

Eddie tries to decline the invite but Taylor is relentless and despite his protests, he finds himself at the counter, ordering drinks next to Taylor, fifteen minutes later. He hates small talk, and apparently so does Taylor, because the moment Buck steps away to go to the restroom she turns to Eddie with her razor sharp stare and says, “So I heard you kissed Buck the other day and tried to do a little take back, huh?” 

Eddie wants to glare at her and tell her to mind her business but this is her business, and he’s the one in the wrong here, not Taylor, and so instead of lashing out he bites his tongue and apologizes. 

Taylor blinks. “What? Why are you saying that to me? It’s Buck you should be apologizing to. I’m not the one who’s heart you’re playing games with.” she snaps. 

“What? What are you talking about? Look, I’m trying to say sorry here--I kissed him in the heat of the moment, and I want to say I wasn’t thinking straight but the truth is I’ve been in love with him for longer than I can admit but I know you two are dating and I know I overstepped, that wasn’t my intention at all so I just--” 

“We’re not dating...” 

Startled, Eddie turns around to face Buck, who’s standing behind him, having heard a good portion of that conversation. “What.” 

“Is that why you said that? That you didn’t mean to kiss me? Because you thought Taylor and I were going out?” Buck can’t help but sound hopeful, gulping when it takes Eddie a moment to answer. 

“You’re really not dating?” Eddie breathes out. 

Buck shakes his head. “We’re just friends.” 

It’s quiet for a moment before Taylor decides to break the silence. “So...I’m gonna go get us another round and let you two geniuses figure this out.” 

As soon as she’s out of ear shot Buck sits down across from Eddie and both men try to speak simultaneously. “Oh, sorry, no, you go first.” Buck insists. 

Eddie twiddles his thumbs and bites his lip. “How much of that did you hear, exactly?” 

Buck’s heart pounds in his chest like a drum. “Uh, I think I walked up to the part where you told her you’re in love...with me? And for the record, I--you know, I--” Buck stumbles over his confession. “I’m in love with you. Too.” 

“Jesus, Buck,” Eddie leans over the table precariously and holds Bucks face in his hands, not giving a damn about the fact that they’re in a crowded bar. “Are you serious?” 

Buck nods softly and the scruff of his five o’clock shadow gently scratches the palms of his hand and Eddie can’t get over how much he likes that feeling. He could hold Buck like this forever. “Can I kiss you?” 

“Please.” Eddie lets Buck take the lead this time, digs his hands into those blonde curls as Buck twists a hand in his shirt and pulls him even closer. 

Taylor finds them making out like teenagers in the corner of the bar twenty minutes later and pats herself on the back for a job well done. It’s about time those two idiots figured it out. 

.

a/n anon i loved ur prompt <3 thanku! 

[bonkers-4-hatter]

@hearts-like-iron​ Asked:  May I get a Free!, Haikyuu, and Hetalia match up please?  Match Up (Hetalia; 1P) My name is Unique. I'm a tall, 5'7, slightly thicc female (Ukraine's body type). I have curly, little over shoulder length bleached blonde hair, my dark brown roots showing. I have light brown eyes that often look gold instead. I am Hispanic and Italian, I tan quite easily, and I'm not easily sunburned because of it. I have a lot of burn marks on my hand from trying to sneak cooking French fries or food from the oven. I am very durable, and can't be hurt that much physically. I'm Bisexual and Panromantic Despite being an idiot sometimes, I am very observant and empathetic and will probably try to help someones day become better. I'm very book smart, I can probably tell you many random facts about history, science, and literature. I learn quickly, but can sometimes be slow if I'm not familiar with a certain thing in a topic. I get very loud when excited, my friends often have to quiet me down. I'm very emotional, but can control it to the point I can hide it. I can easily tell if someone is lying, but decides not to say something about it. I'm often reading and drawing, sometimes I write for fun. I'm a little lazy at times, but I try to find energy to clean and get work done. I'm very passionate, but I know when there is a time to stop and back away from something. I'm usually very quiet until I get comfortable with you, I'm not shy, I'm just distrustful (I need someone who can easily get me out of my shell). I am very protective of my family and close friends. I like puns and pick up lines. I am very spontaneous and random, like me and my friends would be going to the park and suddenly we're at the library. If I have enough of something to give, I will give it, but if I barely have enough for myself I won't do it. I care deeply for others, but if it will put me or my family in danger I won't do it.

I match you with: 

Diachi from Haikyuu!!

Even though you’re durable, Daichi still gets worried and will fret over you. He knows you can take care of yourself, but that’s just how he is. Loves how you try to make everyone’s day better, that shows him how true your heart is. If you’re ever down, he’ll be by your side and trying to make your day better any way he can. 

He doesn’t like to have you burn yourself out, so when he sees you try to find the energy to do chores or other things, he’ll offer to do them for you. He wants you to rest and conserve your energy. 

Let him do this for you, you do so much for him already. He also doesn’t like it when you hide your emotions, he wants you to express them in front of him because he wants to be there for you when you need to let those emotions out. He loves you and he wants you to go to him with anything.

Germany from Hetalia

Ludwig completely understands being distrustful and hard to come out of ones shell. He’ll give you the space and time you need to feel comfortable around him and open up to him. He’s a patient man and he respects your boundaries.

He is not very spontaneous, however, he enjoys spending time with you and he’ll go wherever you want or where you guys end up at. He’ll admit that your spontaneous nature and randomness does intrigue him! It keeps him on his toes and he can never predict what you’ll do next which he surprisingly likes. 

Enjoys having conversations with you about history, literature and whatever else catches both of your interests. That deep conversation is something he loves and to be able to do it with you is great. Being an smart man himself who’s book smart too, intelligence and conversation is very important to him.

Makoto from Free!

Having a strong sense of family himself, he loves that you will do anything to protect your family and since he’s such a romantic, he hopes you feel the same way for your guys’ future family which he knows you will.

Very sweet to you in the way of kissing the burn marks on your body. He adores every inch of you and he’s not afraid to show it. He also enjoys holding your hand any chance he gets. Showing you affection and PDA is his love language.

Adores that you get excited about the things you enjoy. He doesn’t calm you down unless you start to get nervous or anxious if people start to stare. Otherwise, he wants you to express yourself and your feelings are always valid.

[sometimesiwritebadly]

Paintbrush (Spencer Reid x Artist!Reader)

Summary: You’re an artist in DC, and a serial killer has started using your artwork as inspiration for his murders.

Warnings: Mentions murder (duh) but doesn’t go into detail

Notes: This is way longer than I planned lol. I based the chaotic-artist vibe that the reader has going on the tiktoker @/artistkatiesmall so y’all can watch her tik toks if you like chaotic energy and paint as much as i do. Oh also I tried to keep this gender-neutral but if there are any pronouns in here that shouldn’t be let me know and I’ll fix it!! I use she/her so sometimes it just comes naturally and i don’t notice. 

Word Count: 2.3k

Masterlist

You were in your studio, listening to music as loud as physically possible. Your art studio is like a safe haven; the only place you feel completely yourself. Right now you’re working on your latest piece. Your art style is very “splattered paint that ends up looking like something”, which your mother had told you on multiple occasions. She had meant it as an insult, but you ended up taking the term and making it your own. She’s not wrong; you typically start your pieces by throwing some paint on a canvas and letting it take you somewhere. So here you are, slapping paint on a canvas and screaming the lyrics to your favorite song.

As the painting began to take form - you hadn’t decided what it would be yet, but you’re excited with what you have - you heard some pounding that didn’t match the beat of the song. Grabbing your phone, you turned down the music, and the pounding could be heard much more clearly now. “Y/N Y/L/N! FBI!” You quickly paused the music and rushed to the door. As you opened the door, your paintbrush (still covered in paint...oops) was tucked behind your ear. At your entrance was two men, one tall and skinny, and the other older with graying hair. “Y/N?” The younger of the two asked, his voice considerably softer than when he’d yelled through your door. You only nodded, and each of the men showed you their badges before the older of the two spoke.

“I’m SSA Rossi, and this is Dr. Reid, we’re with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. Can we come in? We need to ask you a few questions.”

“Uh, yeah, of course.” You opened the door wider now, allowing them both to step inside your small studio. “Um, sorry about the mess, I’m not exactly the most conventional artist.” You apologized. You would've offered them a seat, but you only had two chairs in the place, and they were both occupied by piles of your various art supplies. “What is this about?”

Dr. Reid held a file in his hands, which he passed over to you as he spoke. “Do you recognize any of these paintings?” You open the file to find 4 pictures of your own artwork; portraits of various different people. One short blonde woman, one ginger man with an impressive beard, and a hispanic woman with a pixie cut. 

“Yeah, I painted these a while back...Why does the FBI care about some random commission artwork?”

“Someone commissioned you to do these?” Dr. Reid spoke quickly, causing you to look away from the pictures and back towards him. “Uh, yeah. He calls me every once in a while and asks for weirdly specific portraits.”

“What do you mean, weirdly specific? You don’t base your work off of pictures?” SSA Rossi asked you.

“No, he’s never given me pictures to work from. He just describes the person he wants me to paint. Like about two weeks ago,” You paused as you walked over to your cluttered desk, and grabbed your notepad, which was still open to the page you’d jotted down your notes on, “He asked for a portrait of a short, Asian man with bleach blonde hair, dark eyes, and one pierced ear.” You handed the notepad to Dr. Reid, who scanned it quickly. 

“What’s his name?” He asked, before handing the notepad to his partner.

“Tanner. I don’t know his last name, he always pays with cash. What’d he do?”

The two men looked at each other briefly, before Dr. Reid spoke again, “We believe Tanner has been killing the people that you paint. He left the paintings at the crime scene.”

Your heart dropped. Not only had you been in constant contact with this psychopath, but you felt like you’d inadvertently helped him. You took his money, and he killed the people who looked like your paintings. 

“I know this is shocking, but have you painted anyone else for him?”

“Uh, no, this was the most rece-” You cut yourself off, remembering something from the last time you’d spoken with Tanner. “He bought a painting of me.”

“When?” Dr. Reid asked.

“When, uh, when he picked up the last painting. I had a self-portrait sitting over there that I'd done for fun. He asked if he could have it along with the other one, he paid me extra for it-”

“What day, Y/N?” Dr. Reid placed a hand on your shoulder, trying to comfort you. You felt like you might pass out.

“3 days ago.”

Again, the two agents looked at each other, and their faces didn’t make you feel any better.

“Y/N, why don’t you come with us to the police station, you’ll be safe there.” You could only nod in response letting them lead you out of the studio. Before you exited, Dr. Reid grabbed the paintbrush from behind your ear, placing it on a table before you made your way out to the car.

~~~

Sitting in the police station was like torture. First of all, you were wearing your normal painting outfit: a paint-stained t-shirt an ex had left at your place, jeans that were so ripped up you could barely call them jeans anymore, and of course, socks and sandals. The cops were either completely ignoring your presence, or asking you the same questions you’d already answered dozens of times. One top of all that, they wouldn’t let you do anything besides sit and wait. You had managed to find a paper pad and a pen, so at least your doodling could help pass the time.

You’d been at the station for over an hour already, which meant your doodle was nearly perfect; you ended up drawing one of the agents, Dr. Reid. From where you were sitting, he was in clear sight, and one of the only people who was actually sitting still enough for you to draw. And, y’know, he’s the only person you want to look at long enough for you to draw. 

“Is that me?” His voice startled you; you’d been looking down at the paper and didn’t notice Dr. Reid coming towards you. You dropped the pen immediately, and moved the paper out of his sight.

“I’m sorry Doctor, I was just, y’know, bored and-” You tried to put together a sentence, but your embarrassment was getting the best of you.

“I don’t mind, I, um, think it’s kind of flattering. Can I see it?” Dr. Reid asked, and you reluctantly handed the paper over. You’d been an artist for so long, you were almost never nervous for people to see your work anymore; you have a very “if they like it, great! If they don’t, I don’t care,” kind of attitude when it comes to your artwork. But Dr. Reid was making you nervous. “You don’t have to call me Doctor by the way. Reid is fine. Or, uh, Spencer. You can call me Spencer.” He had a light blush on his face as he spoke, which calmed you a little bit. At least he’s just as nervous as you. Suddenly, as if he was snapped out of his train of thought, Spencer handed the paper back to you and cleared his throat before speaking. “We used the phone number you gave us to find Tanner, but he doesn’t have any listed addresses. Did you ever deliver paintings to him?” Behind him, another one of the agents who’d talked to you, Hotch, walked up.

“Um, no. I’d just call him whenever I finished a painting and he’d come to me.”

“Would you be willing to call him again?” Hotch asked. Your eyes widened at the idea. You’re already terrified at the notion that you may be a target for a serial killer, but calling him? Hotch must have noticed your fear, as he began to explain further, “We can track his location with a phone call, but we need some time to do it. If you’re the one speaking, he’ll probably stay on the line long enough for our technical analyst to find him.” 

You took a deep breath, before nodding slowly. “Y-yeah. I can do that. Can you guys give me a minute first? I need some air.” You didn’t wait for an answer before walking out of the police station. Once you got outside, walked to the end of the building and leaned against the side wall. You closed your eyes, breathing deeply. You couldn’t shake the feeling of responsibility over those people’s deaths. Tanner had taken your artwork, your passion, and ruined it.

“Are you ok?” You looked up to find Spencer standing in front of you, hands in his pockets.

“Not really.” You played with your hands as you spoke, not making eye contact.

“You feel guilty, don’t you?” He asked, as he moved to lean against the wall next to you. 

“Shouldn’t you be inside? Y’know, you’ve got a serial killer to catch.”

“You know there are a lot of signs that someone feels guilty. Avoiding eye contact, changing the subject, lack of an appetite...I noticed you didn’t eat the snacks JJ got for you.” He was right, Agent Jareau had gotten you some snacks that you left untouched back in the station. When you didn’t say anything, Spencer continued, “Usually when I see people acting like this, they have good reason to be guilty. You haven’t done anything wrong, Y/N.”

“I inspired him.” When you looked up at Spencer, he gave you a confused look. “When I saw him last, when he wanted to buy that painting of me, I asked him why. He said that my artwork inspires him. If...If I hadn’t painted those people, they could still be alive.”

“You don’t know that.”

“But there’s a possibility, isn’t there? You can’t say for sure that he would’ve killed them anyways, can you?”

Spencer was silent for a moment, confirming your fears. Eventually, he spoke up. “He may not have killed those exact people, He would’ve killed someone. He’s already killed before.” Your eyebrows shot up at this, so Spencer kept talking, “We think we can connect him to two murders from a few years ago. If he had never used your art as part of his signature, it would’ve taken us a lot longer to find him. He may have even gotten away with it all together.” Spencer’s words did give you a little relief. You still felt bad for the way your art had been used, but it was a good reminder that you weren’t the murderer. That Tanner’s actions had nothing to do with yours.

“Thank you.” Spencer nodded in response, giving you a small smile. “I guess I have a phone call to make.”

~~~ a week later ~~~

You were back in your studio, getting ready for a new painting. Just as you placed your canvas on the easel, there was a knock on the door. When you opened it, you were surprised to find Spencer Reid on the other side. “Spencer?”

“Hi.” There was an awkward moment of silence before Spencer spoke again. “I, uh, saw your mural. It’s beautiful.” A small smile formed on your face at the mention of the mural. After you helped the BAU catch Tanner, you reached out to the family of the victims. With their permission, you painted a mural that was put up at the memorial down the road. The mural had been featured on local DC news channels, which is probably how Spencer had seen it.

“Thank you. I probably wouldn’t have done it if it wasn’t for you.” As you spoke, you moved over so that Spencer could enter the studio space. “Back at the police station, I wanted to quit art. Figured I’d finally put that communications degree to use or something.” Spencer lightly laughed as you continued, “But you made me realize that I can still do something good with my art.”

“I’m glad.” Spencer paused, and took a deep breath, and a step towards you, “Do you, uh, think we could go get coffee sometime? I mean, it doesn’t have to be coffee, we could get tea, or um, lemonade, we could get lemon-”

“Spencer!” You cut him off, with a light laugh. You found his nerves to be both flattering and cute. “I’d love to get any beverage you’d like, as long as you’re there with me.” You ran your hands through your pockets, looking for the sharpie you’d had in your hand before you’d opened the door. “Where is…” you mumbled, looking down at your pockets. Suddenly, you felt Spencer’s hand at your ear, where he pulled down the sharpie you’d placed there.

“Looking for this?” He was now standing close enough to you that he only had to whisper. 

“Yeah” You responded, at the same volume he’d used. You took the sharpie from his hand, but before he could pull it away, you grabbed it and wrote down your phone number. When you finished, you looked up to Spencer’s face, which had turned pink. “Call me whenever.”

Neither you or Spencer said a word, you just stood there, staring at each other. You couldn’t help but try to memorize every feature of his face. Your staring contest was interrupted by Spencer’s phone dinging. He took a step back, much to your disappointment, and looked down at the text. “I, uh, I have to get to work. We have a new case.” You could tell he was disappointed too.

“Ok.” You whispered. Spencer looked at you for one more moment before he did what you least expected; before you even realized what was happening, his hand was wrapped around your waist and his lips were on yours. Your hands found their way to his collar, pulling him even closer to you.

You two didn’t pull apart until Spencer’s phone went off again. “You better call me.” You said, finally letting go of him.

“I will, promise.” Was the last thing he said to you before rushing off to work. When the door closed behind him, you turned to your blank canvas with a clear idea in mind. So you turned up the music, grabbed your paints, and began to put every detail of Spencer you could remember onto the canvas.

~~~

Notes: i’ll be honest idk how i feel about this ending lmao but i hope y’all liked it

Tags: @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @la-vie-en-amour1 @peculiarinsomniac

[hannya-writes]

Wanna see a Trick?

Title: Wanna see a Trick? Fandom: Law and Order: SVU/Marvel: Daredevil Pairing: none Other characters: Nick Amaro, Sonny Carisi, Amanda Rollins, Olivia Benson, Rafael Barba, Matt Murdok Category: Action, humor maybe?, No-romance I think? Warnings: this may be not perfect! Author's note: This was just an idea I got while watching Law and Order: SVU, since lawyers always got their clients out of the interrogation rooms and I love Matt Murdock  •  •  •

Y/n was a private investigator, a counselor to the police when in need and in her free time she was a vigilante. Not a superhero, there was nothing super in her strange abilitys to get herself in trouble.

She called it a "danger compass", sometimes there were places were things were supposed to happen and she just casually appeared there in the right moment to stop it. In other ocassions there was people who got this heavy aura. The darker it became, the most dangerous it was. And the dangerous it got, the stronger her "magic" become. She could make herself intangible, she could teleport to places, hear people when they were talking about her, live the experience of dying, see the past. But it all depended on the level of danger of places an people. If someone wasn't a dangerous they were practically inexistent for her. That night, as she was walking home she heard the footsteps getting closer. She felt the danger in her every breathe, and saw it. Y/n was taken hostage, the police yelled and a woman with the last name "Benson" told him to calm down, then he pulled the trigger and shot to a policeman to the head, then at the woman, killing her. It was a mess, and she wasn't going to allow that to happen. She stopped and took a sideway step, leaving space for the running man to pass. In the last second, she got her foot in his way making him stumble and fall to the sidewalk. — Hello, there — she said with a smile, the man turned on the floor and saw her above him. Y/n felt it or saw it, before it happened: the man taking out a gun. In a second, her own gun was out and pointing at him — You are so predictable — she wailed in exasperation, kicking him in the ribs and then leaning to take out the gun from his pants — Police, hands in the air — someone demanded and y/n turned to see a tall man with blond and silver hair. — Put the gun down — someone else yelled and Y/n saw a second man, hispanic, dark hair, frowning while pointing a gun at her, that took her by surprise. She looked down to the perp the policemen were following, then at the police, trying to understand what did he mean, she had his gun, he was harmless. — Oh, ohhh, you are talking to me — y/n realized as she put her gun down and back to her holster — Usually your kind don't yell at me — admited with a huff — you usually thank me — — Thank you? — the blond said as you stepped back, hands in the air. —  Yeah, I mean —  y/n pointed at the man that was still in the ground. — I got the bad guy — As she said that Benson got there  — Rude —   added a second before the woman said the words that would get her in trouble: "Cuff them both".

... Y/n took a sit in the interrogation room, the two men who had caught her were across the table. Her hands were still handcuffed, and they were asking questions as she played with the chain, making noises with it, trying to suffocate their voices and the oppressing feeling the room give her. "Who paid you to kill him? Who where you waiting for?" "If you have nothing to hide then speak, we only want to help you" Good cop and bad cop, y/n knew the drill. She had been a cop before going "freelancer". — wanna see a trick? — she asked after a long moment of awkward silence — one, two, three —  she counted and pulled at the handcuffs to the sides. Nick Amaro and Sonny Carisi saw the handcuffs pass through her wrists, as if it was a hologram. But the handcuffs weren't holograms! —  What...? —  was Sonny stupified word at the trick, not believing what his eyes had witnessed. Nick extended a hand and took the handcuffs noticing that yes, they were tangible and no, she hadn't opened them. — look — she finally said putting her hands back inside the handcuffs, Nick looked at her hands and then at her face. — I wasn't going to kill Mr. Rapist-murder-to-go, I was waiting for the police who was running after him who turned to be you two — she pointed at them with hand guns — I'm Y/n Y/l/n, I'm a private investigator and a police counselor, I have help to solve some crimes of Hell's kitchen and Harlem, — — why didn't ya' said this before? — Sonny asked somehow relieved that y/n had decided to talk since he didn't had ideas to force her. — You weren't ready — y/n said in a defensive tone — and the D.A is here which means I don't have to repeat myself — she pointed to the one sided mirror and smiled — and since Rollins has my file, and they have corroborated my story, I guess I'm free to go — Nick looked at Sonny with doubt. And saw her once again get out of her handcuffs with no difficulty. — wait here — Nick said as he got out to talk to Sargent Olivia Benson, deciding to ignore what he had witnessed, it was a trick of the light that was it. — Look, I'll like to leave before my lawyer gets here — y/n pushed at Sonny as Nick was out, greeting Barba. — how is your lawyer going to know you are here? — he asked amused by her worry — He got super powers, and he's going to get mad at me for getting in the middle of police busyness, I also have superpowers, the superpower to feel danger, that's how I knew I had to stop the man who was running away— y/n confeased sounding like a crazy to Sonny and the D.A. — Mr. Barba, I'm not mentally unstable — — how did she knew? — Rafael Barba muttered behind the mirror — what is she? a Bruja? — he added sarcastic. Y/n inside the interrogation room scoffed. — Maybe a psychic — Rollins said smirking, Amaro frowned. — Maybe she just had a good hearing — said Amaro unhappy of how the conversation has developed — A witch, A psychic or good hearing? — she asked from her sit making the fourth people outside the interrogation room to look at her surprised — nice try — Sonny felt lost, not understanding what was happening, he was only hearing one side of the conversation and it didn't have a sense. — Miss Y/l/n, in what area do you give advise to the police? — the Half Italian asked making her focus on him rather than the D.A. outside the room — eh... It depends, I can go into details about the way of dying, I can find lost people and corpse — she counted putting fingers down in a hand — I can reveal the deepest desire of a murderer, find ways to crack said murderer, can make them snap and show the worst of them— — how do you do that? — Sonny was sincerely curious and Y/n smiled. — Well, I'm kind of like a witch, only I don't make potions— she stated with a smile — I have a great luck, I read auras, sometimes I even got to read people mind if I focus really hard and... — — wait you can read minds? — Sonny seemed horrified. — what...?— — are you thinking? — she completed the question and grinned— you think I...— she blushed and left the sentence incomplete, because the man had used a corny pickup line that had worked wonderfully on her — Detective, that's some serious accusations — she said in a flirty tone, making Sonny blush making him realize that she had "hear" him. — how is this possible? — he asked and she laughed amused by the question. — well it all started...— Y/n was cut short as a man entered the room, cane in a hand, red lenses, black tie, gray suit. — That's enough, Y/n — the blind man said with a friendly voice. — Murdock don't be mean, we are in the middle of something... — Y/n said with a polite tone, the attorney walked towards her an put a hand in her shoulder. — we're leaving, they have nothing on you — he explained and Y/n pulled at the handcuffs, making them rattle, Matt almost smiled. — Detective, would you mind? — Matt Murdock asked with a nod towards the handcuffs, Sonny released her without questioning. As they left, the D.A. recognized Matt. — Murdock — he greeted him coldly, but somehow with a splash of respect. — Barba — Matt answered in the same tone as he took Y/n arm, so she could lead him out. — Here — Y/n said offering her business card to the D.A. — I feel like you'll need me in a couple of months — she claimed with certainty — by the way, the man I caught has all the corpses under his basement, good luck — were his last words before Matt sighed in defeat and shook his head. — you can't just shut up, can you? — he wondered as they walked away, Y/n laughed and held the blind man's hand in hers.

[ericsonclan]

Strong and Swift

Summary: Brody and Mitch transfer to Ericson High and get through their first day together before going out and completing their first mission in New York as spider heroes.

Word Count: 3869

Read on AO3:

“All I’m saying is that brunch is a very valid and delicious way to hang out with friends,” Louis strolled through the hallway, his backpack dangling off one of his shoulders.

“Louis, drop it,” Violet mumbled as her hands struggled to hold all the books that she needed for today's classes.

“Well, Clem, I guess you’re the swing vote. Is friendship brunch a thing? Yay or nay?”

Clementine looked over at her friends then focused back on the hallway before her. “Hmmm, I guess we’ll just have to go to brunch and find out.”

“Yes!” Louis pumped his fist while Violet let out a tired groan. The three of them continued to discuss the matter as they made their way into their homeroom class where Javi was leaning back in his chair tossing a baseball in the air.

“Oh hey, you three are early,” He gave a happy smile at the sight of his students.

“No,” Violet sat down in her chair with a groan. “Your clock is wrong.”

Javi looked up in shock then glanced between his phone and the clock. His eyes darted back and forth to check it. “Oh no,” He pushed his chair up to the clock and started to reset it while the classroom became full with the different students.

“Morning, Mr. Garcia,” Sophie’s cheerful tone drew the teacher's attention.

“Hey, Sophie.”

“Whatcha up to?” Renata popped out from behind Minnie with a curious smile.

“Changing the clock. Time was totally wrong and would've been really awkward when the new transfer students showed up.”

Minnie’s eyes widened at that statement. “More transfer students?”

Javi gave a light hearted chuckle. “Yeah, who would’ve thought. Must be that they think Ericson High is quite the place.” He got off the chair and spun it around, taking a seat in it. “You three should get in your seats.”

“Right!” Renata jogged over and slid into her chair; the twins soon followed suit. Javi gave the students a few more minutes to file in and get settled before he rose up.

“Good morning class, as a few of you might already know we are getting in a few new transfer students today.”

Clementine glanced up from her spot. That’s odd. Why are there so many transfer students showing up? The timing seems off.

Suddenly a knock on the door drew all the students’ attention.

“Oh, I bet that’s them now,” Javi lightly jogged to the door and swung it open with a bright smile. “Come on in, you two,” He stepped back, giving the two students a chance to walk and stand in front of the class. On the left was a tall guy with short chestnut hair and green eyes. He seemed to radiate a sort of grumpy energy from. His eyes glanced around the room, challenging anyone to speak up and say something. On his right was a girl who was shorter than him with beautiful pale blue eyes. Her auburn hair was slicked back and her hands were by her sides balled up, most likely due to nerves based on the expression on her face. She seemed nervous but something about her was genuine and kind.

“Well, why don’t you introduce yourselves to the class,” Javi leaned back in his chair with a warm smile.

“Name’s Mitch,” the guy spoke, looking around at the room for a few seconds before focusing his eyes elsewhere. “From Atlanta. Moved suddenly and ended up here.”

“Thanks, Mitch,” Javi said with a smile then looked over at the girl. “It’s your turn.”

The girl looked over at the teacher before taking a deep breath and uncurling her fists. “Hi there, I’m Brody. I’m also from Atlanta. My folks moved because of a new job so I look forward to getting to know all of you,” Brody’s eyes fell back down and for a split second Clementine could’ve sworn she saw Mitch reach out his hand and give Brody's a small, comforting squeeze.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you two. Now as for seating, you can take the seats behind Louis and Violet,” Javi motioned over to the two empty spots behind them. Louis gave a friendly wave while Violet looked up for a second, a ghost of smile on her face before she looked away again. Brody took her spot behind Louis and Mitch sat behind Violet.

Louis immediately turned around in his chair. “Hi, I’m Louis,”

Brody looked surprised by it. “Hi.”

“Louis, if you could turn around again, we can get started on taking attendance.” Javi’s voice caused Louis’ face to change to a guilty look before turning around with a sheepish smile. The rest of the day seemed to go fairly smoothly. Nothing besides the new students seemed unusual for a normal day at Ericson High and soon lunch had rolled around.

Brody sat down at the empty table with a tired sigh. Mitch sat beside her, giving a small, sympathetic smile. Slowly his arm reached around her shoulders.“First days always suck,”

Brody nodded in agreement. “Yeah they do, but everyone seems nice. I just wonder why we got assigned-” She immediately stopped when she noticed Louis waving excitedly over at them and making his way over to their table with Clementine and Violet.

“Hey, mind if we join you?” Louis sat down, placing his lunch tray that was stacked high with pudding and pizza. Violet and Clementine sat down on opposite sides of him.

“Yeah, sure,” Brody gave a kind smile that seemed to cause Mitch’s tension to decrease.

“So, you said you two were from Atlanta?” Clementine leaned forward and opened her apple juice box, taking a long sip from it.

“That’s right,” Mitch responded and took a fry from his plate. “We went to the same school, Prescott High.

“It was a really nice school.” Brody added with a fond smile.

“But you had to move?” Violet’s voice caused them to look over to her. She had a huge pile of nuggets on her plate. Way more than seemed humanly possible to consume in one sitting.

“Yeah,” Mitch grumbled. “Some shit came up and my family had to move.”

“Well, enough with that,” Louis dramatically opened his first container of pudding, thrusting a spoon into it. “Tell me, how did you crazy kids get together?”

Clementine shook her head good-naturedly while Violet gave an annoyed sigh. “Really, Louis?”

“What? It’s a valid question. They could ask if any of us are dating anyone. We’re not, by the way.” Louis flashed his classic charismatic smile.

“Oh, well...” Brody awkwardly twirled her fork around her plate.

“I asked her out to the dance on a dare,” Mitch had a smug expression on his face that instantly dissipated when he saw the look on Louis’ face. “What?”

Brody reached up her hand and grabbed Mitch’s. “It was a weird starting point, but we quickly got along and we’ve been together ever since.”

“How long have you been together?” Clementine took a bite of her burger.

“Three, maybe four years?” Brody looked over at Mitch for confirmation.

Mitch shrugged. “That sounds about right to me.”

“Wait - so you got together when you were what? Thirteen or fourteen?” Louis looked shocked as the spoon slipped out of his slightly opened mouth. Before either Brody or Mitch could answer that a Hispanic girl with dark brown hair jumped onto one of the chairs with a  chaotic smile.

“Hey there, just want to stop by and meet the two new hot people in our homeroom,” She offered her hand. “I’m Renata. Rhymes with frittata if that helps,”

Brody awkwardly took it. “Brody, but ummm, what was that about hot people?”

“Well obviously I was talking about you two.” Renata playfully kicked her legs.

“Where’s Sophie and Minnie?” Violet’s words were muffled by the chicken nuggets she was currently inhaling.

“Yeah, aren’t they always with you?” Clementine looked up from her food.

“Usually yes, but right now they’re trying to convince Omar to try the latest masterpiece Sophie has concocted.” Renata tossed forward a pudding cup that spun around the center of the table.

“Pudding?” Mitch looked confused. “That’s already been fucking claimed.”

Renata shook her head and held up a finger. “Hot pudding.” Her eyes wandered over to another table, making the others do the same.

There they saw a girl with long red hair arguing animatedly with a shorter guy with an afro who had his arms crossed. A girl with short red hair who looked identical to the other one was laughing lightly with a happy smile on her face. Only every now and again did she speak up. The other girl lifted up the pudding cup to display it before dropping it and shaking her hands wildly. Renata laughed at the sight. “Sophie really is trying her best,” She turned back to face the others. “So, anyone game to try it? I promise it’s worth it.”

“Nope,” Violet stated, simply finishing off the last of her chicken nuggets. Brody and Mitch looked shocked by the sight.

“I will take the risk!’ Louis dramatically rose from his spot and with one fluid movement gulped down the hot pudding. His face winced from the heat, but soon melted into a joyful, content look. “Holy shit! This is no joke!” “Right? Right?” Renata bounced excitedly in her seat, smiling at the people at the table.

Louis looked around the cafeteria with a wide grin which disappeared after a few seconds. “Damn it, I thought Gabe and Mari would be in the cafeteria but they must be in the newspaper room with Nurgul. Gabe would lose his mind over this.” Louis said, looking round.

“Well, have no fear,” Renata reached forward and snagged the empty pudding cup. “We have the mastermind behind it all,” She pointed back at Sophie who had spilled the pudding all over her pants and was now jumping and dancing around as Minnie burst out laughing. Minnie held out a napkin while her hand shook with laughter.

“Say no more, I’m sold. It was nice talking to you two, definitely wanna hear more, but now I’m on the quest for more hot pudding,” Louis gave a playful smile and wave before standing up.

“See ya,” Renata winked, giving a casual salute as she strolled over to the twins.

Brody and Mitch shared a look before laughing.

The rest of the day went smoothly from that point on. All the teachers seemed nice and understanding and the classmates helped whenever either Mitch or Brody didn’t understand something.

“All in all, not a shitty day,” Mitch smiled over at his girlfriend.

“Nope. I think I’m really going to like this school.” Brody’s hand swayed along with Mitch’s, their intertwined fingers locked firmly together as they exited the building.

“Mari, wait up!” Gabe rushed forward, his camera bag hitting his hip while he tried to catch up with his sister. Mariana looked back at her brother with a playful smile.

“Come on, slowpoke! If we keep going at this pace, we'll never reach the pizza place.” Mariana stopped when she saw the red hand appear on the display, signalling that it wasn’t safe to cross. Gabe leaned over and caught his breath for a moment. “Are you sure this pizza place is any good? Why can’t we go to the usual one on Broadway?”

“Because I heard that this one really does have the best pizza in New York. Sure it’s only been open for a few weeks, but Uncle Javi swears that it's the best he’s ever had.” Mari’s smile faded when she saw the unsure expression on her sibling’s face. “Tell you what: if Reggie’s Pies and Fries isn’t the best pizza ever, I’ll buy you a four pack of pudding.”

Gabe’s eyes danced with excitement at the suggestion. “Make it six and you’ve got a deal.”

Mariana looked at him with a  competitive smile. “You drive a hard bargain. Deal!” She shook his hand firmly. “You’re buying the pizza today though.” She turned to start crossing the street while Gabe looked dumbstruck for a second. Running beside her, he spoke up again. “Fine, but you’re paying next time.”

“Of course,” Mariana looked down at the black camera bag that was flailing around as Gabe walked. “Do you really need your camera today? It’s not like we’re gonna stumble across some spider people or anything.”

Gabe smiled proudly while holding his camera bag. “You never know. I have a good feeling about today. Especially after that newspaper meeting with Nuri.”

Mariana opened her mouth to comment on that statement when her phone started to buzz against her back pocket. Gabe’s phone was vibrating as well with the same loud sound. It was one that they recognized immediately. Pulling out their phones, the siblings looked at the Amber Alert that stated to look for a black Sedan with the license plate 7TYP290.

Gabe and Mariana looked at each other with a sad expression. They hated whenever these popped up, but that wouldn’t stop their ever constant vigilance to keep an eye out for the license plate just in case. That was when they heard a loud screeching noise followed by a crash coming from about a block away. They looked up to  see a pillar of smoke emitting from a white car that had collided with a blue minivan and black car. People started to gather around it, staring in horror and awe at the crash site before them. Gabe and Mariana ran over without hesitation.

“We should help!” Gabe sprinted forward towards the scene of the accident.

“We should call 911,” Mariana was trying to unlock her phone when Gabe let out an excited gasp. Mariana’s eyes shot up to see what had gotten her brother’s attention. Bumping into her brother with a soft thud, Mariana caught a glimpse of what it had been. There standing on the street sign was a female silhouette. Her eyes were sheltered by a pitch black mask that covered her face all the way down to the bridge of her nose. A hood covered her head, the hem of which was silver. Her body was covered in a skin tight black bodysuit that had silver detailed webs on the torso. The silver on the tips and edges of her black gloves shone in the sunlight.

“Holy shit. Is that-”

“Mimic!” Mariana practically squealed with excitement, finishing her brother’s sentence.

“We’re here to help,” Mimic spoke with a gentle voice when another spider person landed beside her. They were dressed in a  black leather biker jacket, dark denim pants and red shoes. A red spider stood prominently on the back of the jacket before he rose up. His black spider mask looked commanding with its red web detailing around it.

“Step back. We don’t want anyone else getting hurt.”

The crowd listened slowly, stepping back from the scene.

“That’s Goliath. I can’t believe it!” Gabe stared in awe.

“I thought they were based in Atlanta.” Mariana looked over at Gabe with a confused expression then turned her attention back to the two spider people.

“They should be.” Gabe watched as Mimic landed softly on her feet and stood absolutely still, pointing towards the left back car door of the minivan.

“Goliath, two kids.”

“On it,” Goliath moved forward and wrapped his fingers around the edges of the door. Crumpling the metal like paper, he lifted off the door.

“That was his super strength. It’s even crazier in person,” Gabe mumbled, too caught up in the sight before him to think to take photos.

Mimic moved beside her partner. Kneeling down, she looked at the two kids.

“Hey there, we’re gonna help you out, okay? Does anything hurt?” Mimic asked in a soft, comforting voice.

N-no,” The older sister was holding onto her younger brother who was crying in her arms. “But our dad...”

Mimic looked back at Goliath. “Check the front door, but be careful.”

“Of course,” Goliath moved forward and ripped open the door, finding the father whose leg was bloody and broken. “Mimic.”

Mimic stood up with the two kids, one in each of her arms. “I’m going to leave you with my friend. He may look mean, but he’s super nice.” Mimic walked over to Goliath and gently handed him the kids.

“Hey there,” Goliath had a surprisingly gentle tone to his voice. “We’re going to go over here for a few minutes.” He placed the kids and knelt before them. “Gotta help the others, okay?”

The older sister studied his face for a minute, reluctantly nodding. “Just help our dad.”

“I will,” Goliath looked over at the younger brother. “Be sure to watch out for your older sister okay, buddy?”

The little boy nodded, his eyes shining with determination.

Mimic had carefully extracted some of her webbing. Her fingers danced while the webbing carefully wrapped around the father’s leg. Gabe and Mariana watched in amazement as the webbing caused the bleeding to stop.

Goliath jumped over and with care carried over the father to his children who showered him with love and care. “That car is clear. Check out that one next, Mimic,” Goliath pointed to the white car that was smoking profusely. Mimic got back into her meditative stance, a shiver running down her spine when she sensed the presence within the vehicle. “Front right hand side.”

Goliath moved immediately, saving a middle aged lady and carrying her over to where the other survivors were.

“One left,” Mimic whispered to herself as she strolled to the last car.

Mariana looked at the black car with a look of concentration. That was a black sedan, right? Her eyes widened in horror. The license plate! What is it? Her heart stopped when she saw it: 7TYP290.

“Gabe,” Mari nudged her brother’s gut and gestured over to the license plate. Gabe looked at it, the realization hitting him only a second later.

“Mimic! Careful!” Mariana called out, causing the spider person to pause right by the front door. Suddenly a man lunged out of the door, stumbling around and swinging a sharp switchblade. Mimic’s body reacted to it immediately, moving in the unnatural way as if she had no bones in her body. The attacker froze when he stared at the spot she once was.

“That was Mimic’s signature evasion move.” Gabe let out a sigh of relief that the hero had made it out. Mariana felt her shoulders relax for a second before tightening again when she saw the fight wasn’t over.

Goliath ran over, trying to close the distance in time as he watched the switchblade try to land again on Mimic. Goliath shot out his barbed webbing, wrapping around the assulant ‘s wrist and stinging him sharply. Letting out a pained gasp, the man released his weapon.

Mimic appeared suddenly in front of him and kicked him in the gut then proceeded to wrap him in an immense amount of webs that stuck with squelching sounds onto the street sign. Mimic froze when she felt another presence nearby.

“Goliath, the trunk.”

Goliath tore off the trunk cover, revealing a young girl tied and gagged with a tear-stained face. “I’m going to take off the gag, ma’am.” Goliath carefully took off the binds and Mimic helped the girl over to where the others were. The sound of an ambulance and police sirens wailed out, signaling that they were nearby. Mimic looked around for a minute before landing her sights on Mariana.

“Make sure that man gets his leg checked out.”

Mariana could barely believe that a spider person had spoken to her. She couldn’t form any words and simply nodded.

Mimic gave a relieved smile. “Thanks.” With that Mimic and Goliath shot out some webbing and swung off into the distance.

“I can’t believe it….” Gabe looked at the sky where the two spider people had flown past.

“We met spider people!” Mariana exclaimed. The siblings excitedly high fived when Gabe stopped mid-high five, causing Mari’s hand to hit his face.

“It’s weird though,” Gabe looked at the webbed assailant. “There sure are a lot of spider people showing up in New York.”

“That’s true.” Mari paused, intrigued by the information.

“Oh, crap!” Gabe yelled as he clutched his camera bag. “I forgot to take pictures!”

Mariana let out a sad sigh and placed her hand on her brother’s shoulder. “Oh well.”

Gabe looked at where he saw the heroes swing off too. They can’t be that far away . “I’ll be back.”

“What?” Mariana looked confused as she watched her brother run away. “Gabe!”

“I’ll be right back!” Gabe cupped his hands over his mouth to make sure his sister heard him before turning back and focusing on the task at hand. He wanted that picture.

Brody landed easily on her feet as Mitch soon joined her. Taking off her black mask, she felt her hood slip down as she let out a relieved sigh, leaning against the alleyway. “That was close.”

“Yeah, but we kicked ass. Especially you, Brody! You were so fucking hot,” Mitch pulled up his mask, the crinkles on his leather biker jacket increasing with the movement. In a single movement, he cupped the sides of Brody’s face and captured her lips in a passionate kiss. Brody looked surprised for a moment before leaning into the kiss, her hand traveling up to grasp the back of Mitch’s head.

That was when it happened. The sound of a camera went off, causing Brody to throw on her mask and Mitch to pull down his.

In seconds Brody shot out a web, snatching the camera from a Cuban boy with an orange beanie who looked shocked by her action. Brody opened the camera and took out the film, tossing the camera back to its owner. “Sorry,” she apologized, shooting up a web and launching into the air.

Mitch gave a sassy smile that was lost under the mask. “We don’t do pictures.”

After the pair was far enough away, they landed on top of one of the buildings. Both of them took the risk and took off their masks once more. Mitch gave a small smile towards Brody. His hand gently intertwined with hers.

“Don’t worry, we got the film.”

“Yeah, I know. Just glad our first mission went well.” She had a warm smile on her face when her eyes grew large. Tilting back her head, she let out a long, exacerbated groan.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“I forgot I still have my English assignment to complete,” Brody mumbled, letting her face fall forward in defeat.

“Fuck! I do too.” Mitch’s frown deepened, softening only when he glanced over at her. “Hey, wanna drop by my place and we can finish it together?”

Brody looked over at him with an appreciative smile. “That sounds great.”

A smile appeared on Mitch’s face at her words.

Leaning forward, Brody placed a quick kiss on Mitch’s cheek, causing him to blush.

“Ready?” Brody put her mask back on.

"Yeah!” Mitch scrambled up to his feet and did the same.

With that the pair attached their webs to a nearby building and swung down back to the normalcy of life.

[princesscharliemagneofhell]

*Request* Angel Dust X Oc

Eeeekkk! I am so so so sorry fellow anon for this taking so long! T^T I wasn’t sure on exactly what you wanted, so I had to wing it the best I could, I do hope you like it though! ^^

Oc P.O.V.

A long tiresome day of work, you were exhausted and needed a drink. Luckily, there were hundreds of bars to choose from, getting your pint of booze would be no bother at all. 

Slowly, you make your way down the hell filled streets, casually stepping over rotting corpses and wiggling through fight crowds, nothing out of the ordinary. If anything, it was a quite calm..silent day. 

You manage to finally enter the bar, relieved you weren’t mugged at the entrance as you usually were, instead greeted with drunken, flirty ladies, whistling and cooing towards your direction. 

Despite being not much more than bones with clothes, you were quite the handsome demon. Not to mention your slick Hispanic accent that made the girls melt. You were used to this. 

Though, you never appreciated it. You were never interested in what the ladies wanted, or what they had to offer. No, you were much more intrigued in something...else. 

You were always attracted to men, and you accepted this. The era you were born in...however..was not on the same page, thus one of the many reasons you were down in hell. 

None the less, you proceeded to ignore their trifling and continued to the bar counter, in which you were greeted by the bar tender. 

“What’ll it be?” He asked in a deep gruff voice, gripping tightly onto an empty pint, cleaning the glass with a cloth. 

You shrug, hunching over on the counter, muttering out. “Espíritu...full pint.” 

He nodded, disappearing behind shelves of alcohol, leaving you in silence. There wasn’t much else you could do. 

In the corner of your eye, you hear loud laughter from what appeared to be..a tall..surprisingly sexy white spider? At first, you couldn’t tell what gender this loud boastful spider was, for it had a very large...bust..

Entranced by this seductive figure, you find yourself unable to take your gaze off this demon. 

Amongst the yelling and laughter, you hear a small voice from the crowd speak out to the spider. “Angel Dust..you’re too drunk! Maybe let’s head back to the ho-”

Though the voice was cut off with Angel’s slurred tone. “ChArrLiiee~~ baby~ sugar, I luv ya, but I ain’t leavin’ until ya quit treatin me lik’a baby~” He then picked up his pint of booze, chugging the rest of it down, slamming the glass onto the counter, the force shattering it into a million pieces, earning loud laughter and jeering from the crowd of other demons. 

The bartender groaned, placing your drink down in front of you. “Every time that stupid kid comes to my joint, he gives me more crap to clean. I swear once day Ima shoot him in his slutty ass.” 

“Who is that chico anyways?” You asked, taking a sip of your booze, not breaking contact with Angel. 

“Folks call em Angel Dust...he some gay..flamboyant jackass. All the kids are doin’ it knowadays.” The bartender shrugged, turning his attention to another customer. 

Angel Dust, that was a new name. Though he could understand where the bartender was coming from. He most certainly caused a disturbing scene. And yet..

You simply can’t look away. Everything about this new demon was graceful, seductive, hypnotizing. It felt as if you were fall deep under a spell, and didn’t have the strength to wake up. 

Though, clearly the bartender had had enough, and grabbed a pistol, firing a shot through the roof. 

“If you ain’t hea to drink, get out!” He spat, watching in satisfaction as many of the demons scrambled out, startled by the gunshot. 

Angel Dust, however, stayed behind. 

Woozy from the amount of alcohol he consumed, Angel swayed over to the bar counter,flopping himself down onto the stool next to yours, leaning his upper torso onto the counter, groaning softly. 

“Damn bartenda’ gonna ruin the fun like dat, whatta jackass..” You heard him grumble. 

“In his defense, you were trashing his place tipo-” You shrugged, taking another sip of your drink, hiding the smirk behind your pint. 

Angel averted his gaze towards you, narrowing his eyes. “Wanna run dat by me again sugar?” 

You shrugged once more, resting your chin on the palm of your bony hand, pressing your elbow firmly against the counter. “Not saying it to offend you, los siento, but you really should mindful.” 

“Ey ey listen ‘ere spanish boy, do I gotta remind ya we livin’ in the pitts uv hell? ‘Mindful’ ain’t exactly the reason we’re down ‘ere.” He snickered, running his pink gloved fingers through his fluffy white hair. 

“Whatever..” you mumbled. 

About to respond, Angel was cut off when a deep voice spoke out, catching Angel’s attention. 

“Hey gorgeous~” he purred, brushing up against Angel Dust, who smirked, fluffing up his chest. “Normally I’d be in da mood, but I’m kinda tired..maybe anotha time, ey toots~?” He responded to the demon, who clearly wasn’t satisfied with this. 

The demon roughly grabbed Angel’s wrist, jerking him forward. “You ain’t gotta choice.” 

“Ey! No means no! back off!” Angel spat, attempting to yank his arm free. 

You set your drink down with an annoyed huff, standing up next to the disgruntled demon, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

“ Disculpe senor, but he did say no, it’d be wise to listen.” 

The demon quickly let go of Angel, yanking harshly at your collar, dragging you close. “What’s it to ya spanish boy? I’ll beat your ass harder than yo momma did. HA!” 

You attempt to struggle free, but no such avail, you were going to die..again!!!

Squeezing your eyes shut, you prepare for the worst, only to hear a loud POP, then the demon slowly letting go of your shirt, collapsing face first onto the ground. 

You open your eyes, staring in shock as blood oozed from his skull, painting the wood floor red. You look up, only to see Angel with a small pistol in one hand, blowing out the excess smoke, smirking to you. 

“I may be drunk, but I ain’t lost my aim~” He snickered, nudging you gently. “Thanks for the help Diego.” 

About to respond, the bartender burst though, grabbing both of your collars, throwing you out the door with a gruff. 

“Makin more messes? I see ya asses around here again and next time you’ll be the man bleedin’ on the ground!! Beat it!!” 

He slammed the door shut, leaving you and Angel sitting dumbfounded on the ground. 

“Ugh, great. I didn’t even finish my drink thanks to you!” You snap, standing up, brushing the dirt off your bony thighs. 

“Awww, come on! Dat.was fun! Ya gotta admit it!” he laughed, then jumping slightly at the sound of his phone buzzing. Digging through his floof, he pulls out his pink cased phone, groaning. 

“Damn..it’s Charlie. Ahhh, I gotta go toots.” he shrugged, then stuffed his cell phone away, reaching for a slip of paper and sliding it to you. 

“Call me~” He winked, gently grabbing you arm, yanking you close as he gave you a sweet smooth on your cheek, then pulled away, swaying his hips down the sidewalk with a whistle. 

You watched, you entire face flushed a dark red, clutching the slip of paper. You open it up, your eyes widened in surprise. A phone number. 

You attempt to shake off whatever you were feeling as you walk away from the scene, heading back home, deciding whether or not you should give him a call...

Ack!! This was sooooo rushed >~< I am so so SO sorry!! I do hope you enjoyed though! ^^

[jasiper]

every single one for the get to know me thing

insert gif of me cracking my knuckles and hunching over my laptop. let’s go

1. What is your middle name?

i am not this trusting of the internet but i will say it starts with a c

2. How old are you?

20

3. When is your birthday?

december 30

4. What is your zodiac sign?

sun and rising in capricorn, moon in libra

5. What is your favorite color?

blue

6. What’s your lucky number?

probably 12 or 14 (my numbers when i played sports back in the day)

8. Where are you from?

i was born in southern california, i moved to northern california when i was 5 and i attend college in northern california as well

9. How tall are you?

5′6

10. What shoe size are you?

9 in women’s

11. How many pairs of shoes do you own?

i own quite a few but i wear about 7 pairs consistently

14. Are you a psychic in any way?

i don’t think so?

18. Do you want children?

uhhh i don’t think so

19. Do you want a church wedding?

nope

20. Are you religious?

nope

21. Have you ever been to the hospital?

i have to visit people and i am going to to the hospital on friday so ayyy

23. Have you ever met any celebrities?

i met grayson chance when i was 16 and just last month i met emmy (who is famous on tiktok, she’s known for her “fatass indiana state trooper” video)

24. Baths or showers?

showers but if i’m really self-deprecating baths

25. What color socks are you wearing?

white and black adidas socks

26. Have you ever been famous?

nah

27. Would you like to be a big celebrity?

not really

28. What type of music do you like?

probably alternative? rn the favorites are harry styles, khalid, and PVRIS

29. Have you ever been skinny dipping?

yes in high school

30. How many pillows do you sleep with?

2

31. What position do you usually sleep in?

lying on my right side

32. How big is your house?

4 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms, a backyard w a pool. but my apartment for college is 2 bedroom, 1.5 bath

34. Have you ever fired a gun?

homie i’ve never even touched a gun

35. Have you ever tried archery?

nope

36. Favorite clean word?

discombobulated

40. Have you ever had a secret admirer?

i’ve had a not-so-secret one who wrote a poem alluding to sex about me and then read it out to my ap literature class soooo take with that what you will

41. Are you a good liar?

yeah i’d say so

42. Are you a good judge of character?

yes? my only fault with that though is even though i recognize someone might not be good, i give them the benefit of the doubt, or i’ll blame something on me

43. Can you do any other accents other than your own?

i can do a really shitty british accent to say “it’s mafematics luv”

44. Do you have a strong accent?

nah i’m from california we don’t have accents

45. What is your favorite accent?

probably australian

46. What is your personality type?

myers briggs says enfp

47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing?

probably my doc martens

48. Can you curl your tongue?

no :(

49. Are you an innie or an outie?

innie

51. Are you scared of spiders?

terrified

53. Favorite foreign food?

uhhh i love pho

54. Are you a clean or messy person?

organized messy person

55. Most used phrase?

“i’m going to yeet myself off this mortal coil”

56. Most used word?

fuck i have no idea,,,,,,, probably ‘literally’

57. How long does it take for you to get ready?

for class probably 15 minutes. if i need to look good closer to 45

58. Do you have much of an ego?

i have no self-esteem we all know this

60. Do you talk to yourself?

internally yes

61. Do you sing to yourself?

yes, not so much anymore though

62. Are you a good singer?

i wouldn’t say so

64. Are you a gossip?

kind of?

65. Best dramatic movie you’ve ever seen?

i actually don’t know i’ll have to think harder and i don’t have the energy to do that right now

66. Do you like long or short hair?

personally on me i like short hair, my hair is shoulder length again and i love it

68. Favorite school subject?

i loved english and psych in high school

69. Extrovert or introvert?

i’m an extrovert but i have being running out of extrovert energy lately lol

70. Have you ever been scuba diving?

no

71. What makes you nervous?

i have anxiety everything makes me nervous

72. Are you scared of the dark?

kind of? i need to sleep in the dark but i don’t like the dark if i am not in control of it

73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes?

it depends on the mistake

74. Are you ticklish?

extremely

75. Have you ever started a rumor?

no

76. Have you ever been in a position of authority?

yeah

78. Have you ever done drugs?

not hard drugs

79. Who was your first real crush?

some guy in middle school

80. How many piercings do you have?

my ear piercings closed up but my nose is pierced

81. Can you roll your Rs?

no i am the most useless hispanic ever

82. How fast can you type?

pretty fast thanks fanfiction

83. How fast can you run?

not fast

84. What color is your hair?

i think my natural hair color is medium brown but it’s been dyed over so many times it’s a reddish lightish brown

85. What color is your eyes?

green

86. What are you allergic to?

grass and some lotions

87. Do you keep a journal?

i used to and i’m trying to again

88. What do your parents do?

my mom used to be a salesperson and my dad is a teacher

89. Do you like your age?

no i’m too old

91. Do you like your own name?

kind of

92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they?

nah

93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child?

gender is fake

94. What are you strengths?

i’m a good friend

95. What are your weaknesses?

just about everything else i do

96. How did you get your name?

my parents let my sister choose

97. Were your ancestors royalty?

we’re not sure, we traced our family tree back to a castle in scotland though

100. Color of your room?

back home it’s brown, the one in my apartment is white

[boogiewrites]

Mae Flowers 4

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Mae LeBlanc (OFC)

Word Count:  4900

Summary: A modern, magical Alfie Solomons AU. 

Warnings/Tags: Language.Magic/Supernatural. Soul mates. Racism, microaggressions. Some domestic fluff, getting to know you stage. Talk of past neglect, depression, anxiety.

Click on my screenname then go to Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.)

Mae wakes up for the second morning in a row well rested. She'd gone to bed with a full stomach, having eaten their weight in seafood and grits the night before. She felt more at ease today with the fact that there was a man living with her now. He'd stood up for her, helped her cook and put Ruth and Nance's minds at ease for. She felt a warm feeling when she thought of him. It could be the magic, she thought.

Her inner light was growing stronger, it was being fed with another power like it's own, the darkness stirring up her previously unstable energies, making it build and heal itself from all the years alone and unsure. Alfie gave her a strange sense of fullness, stability of sorts she hadn't expected. Normally having another person in her life would make her feel anxious, second-guessing everything she did at the expense of her own peace of mind to keep the other person comfortable. But that wasn't happening with him.

She throws on her robe, scratching her head and yawning big, the smell of coffee hitting her nose as soon as her slippers start bopping across the old hardwood floor towards the kitchen. Alfie stood leaned against the counter in pajama pants and a soft, sleep rumpled t-shirt. His hair was a mess, one side flat and the other sticking up, his eyes lazy with smacking lips as he scratched his stomach waiting on the coffee pot to deliver.

"Mornin' love." he says with a slow nod, his voice deep and sleepy.

"Mornin'." she grumbles, taking a seat at the table in a sunbeam.  Percy lets out a little 'mrrrrowl' of greeting, bumping his head to hers as she runs her fingers along his spine. "Hey Perce." she mutters, his tail swishing in her face and making her nose twitch. She's slowly waking up, Percy laid out in front of her on his back, trying to be cute and keep her attention.

"Hazlenut or French Vanilla?" Alfie asks, standing with the fridge door open, staring into the dull glow.

"Thought you could read my mind." she smirks, her head slowly turning to him.

"I can but you don't know which ya want." he retorts with a snarky smile.

"Hazlenut." she answers with a nod, watching him bring the two mugs over to the table as he plops down next to her, landing in the chair with a loud scoot of its legs across the floor.

So what's on the 'ol agenda today?" he asks, sitting up straight and cracking his spine.

"Uh... not much. We got ahead yesterday." she nods and closes her eyes, taking a sip of the hot liquid and letting it warm her from the inside out. "Thanks for that by the way." she says, eyes blinking open now, looking more alert.

"Don't mention it. I'm here to help." he nods and watches her over the steam rising from his mug.

"If you need to like, do stuff here today you can." she offers. "Just basic stuff for me today to do at the shop. No orders or anything. All caught up for the week." she states with a lazy smile of thanks. "If you wanna unpack and get used to the place... bond with Percy." she nods over the lazy white cat soaking up a sunbeam.

"I do have stuff I can do today with ya out. Get me things all situated. What do ya say Percy?" he asks the cat with a smirk on his face.

Percy raises his head and looks at him, blinking slowly.  A weak meow escapes him before he lays back down totally uninterested.

"He doesn't care." Alfie chuckles.

"Alright." she nods, taking a bigger sip. "I'm gonna take this." she holds the mug in both hands and stands. "Gonna get a shower and get ready and be on my way. Make whatever you want, Friday's are my day I get a smoothie on the way to work." she says and he feels her excitement about the future purchase.

"Will do. I'll keep it simple. Lots of liftin' 'n that to do today." he groans and stretches, as she waddles back into her bedroom. ---- The calm she'd felt at home felt farther and farther away the further she got from home. The usual heaviness, that quivering ball of nerves that told her something was wrong, that she was wrong started to grow back into its usual place in her stomach. Mae sips her berry smoothie and leans over the front counter, her jeans feeling a little tight today, her toes curling and uncurling in the ballet flats that matched her green t-shirt that she'd had made for her company. Her loose spiral curls dancing around her shoulders, the various shades of almost black brown catching the light that came through the high windows of the crowded and humid building. This would be the only moment of peace that she got for the day, as the downpour of things that made her want to crawl up and disappear seemed to hit all at once, leaving her dazed and confused.

First, Jessica shows up. She struts in the door tits first with her large Starbucks cup in tow, overlined lips sucking away at the straw. She doesn't even look at Mae until she's right in front of the counter.

"What do ya need today Jessica?" Mae asks with a perfectly polite attitude, setting her drink down to the side.

"Where's that big leprechaun you've got in here now?" she asks with a smirk as she looks into the back of the shop.

"Leprechaun?" Mae's nose wrinkles up in question.

"What was his name. The big guy with the accent in here yesterday." she replies obviously, jutting a hip out in her annoyance.

"Oh. Alfie." Mae answers flatly.

"Yeah that big boy." she grins.

"He's not working today." she answers, trying to remain indifferent.

"Oh." she slumps and pushes her lips together into a tight line.

"He's also not a leprechaun." she clarifies. "He's English. Not Irish. And don't call Irish people leprechauns, that's just... some weird kind've racist."

"They're white and ginger, who cares?" she says without a thought and rolls her eyes. "Not like I'm calling you the n-word or something." she retorts like it means anything and Mae takes a deep breath.

"I'm not black, I'm Hispanic." she clarifies with a more forceful voice.

"Well, it's not like I'm calling you a... what's a racist word for a Mexican?"

"I'm Spanish not..."

"Tacos? Burritos? IS that something? Beans! Wait, no... Mexican jumping beans, yeah. Wait... that's not it."

"I know what you're thinking and there's no reason to say it. What do you want?" she answers more curtly.

"To see Alfie. He won't be in today?"

"No." another flat response.

"What's he doing today? Where's he at? What's his deal?" her inquisition begins, waving her cup in the air as she speaks.

Mae sighs and goes back to her smoothie. "He's at home. I don't know what he's doing. That's his business and you should respect his space. He was clearly not interested when you talked to him yesterday."

"He's just playing hard to get. You know guys, they act like assholes and you just have to get them to like you by doing stuff for them and letting them make fun of you sometimes. It's all part of it. Not like you would know. Not like anyone's trying to get with you." she snaps back.

"No, but that's..." Mae lets out a  heavy sigh. "Whatever." she gives up and takes a noisy sip of her drink.

"So he lives with you?" Jessica says with a tilt of her head. "You said at home. If not where does he live, you probably have that on file for his employee records or something, right?" she asks , leaning over the counter.

"He does live with me." she decides to not address the clear violation giving an employees persona information would be as she figures it's pointless.

"Wait... so are you guys like a thing?" she says with a clearly disgusted look on her face.

"No. He's a friend of a friend, he's new in town and needed a place to stay and I had a spare room."

"I have a whole guest house if he wants to stay with me. Got a pool and a hot tub." she grins. "So let him know I've got a real house for him to stay at if he wants."

"Are you saying my house is abstract?" Mae chuckles to herself.

"What?" she says with a twist of her neck.

"Nothin'." Mae rolls her eyes.  "If you don't need anything I've got stuff to do... so..." she says, looking over at the tall blonde under her lashes.

"You were just standing here so SORRY... thought you had free time." she retorts.

"I just opened. I have to let the systems boot up." she explains with a deadpan delivery.

"Is he workin' tomorrow?" she asks, one hand on the counter.

"No, we're closed tomorrow."

"Then Monday then?"

"Maybe." Mae shrugs.

"He's your employee, why don't you know?" she bites back.

"Because he's new here and he might need off to run errands to get everything settled." she says offers up. "Not that it's any of your business." she mutters.

"You just let your employee take off like that? Not knowing if he'll work and he can just drive around town all day?" she asks seriously.

Mae sighs again and takes another drink, not answering as a pain grew between her eyes.

"I wanna work for you then, dang." she laughs, her mood shifting fast. "Oh my God, ARE you hiring? I'd be willing to get my hands dirty for that little... whatever he is."

"He's English." Mae rolls her eyes and lets out an exasperated sigh.

"Little... what do English people do? Drink?" she asks seriously.

"Jessica I'm not hiring and just... please go, I have things to do." Maw says with a clear tone of exasperation.

"Fine. But I'll be back on Monday to see Alfie." she sass's taking a long drink from her straw as she walks backward, keeping an eye on Mae who watches her bump into a shelf as she tries to look cool making her exit.

"Bye Jessica." Mae says shaking her head.

"Tell Alfie I said Hiiiiii." she says before leaving.

"What an idiot." Mae says rubbing her forehead.

With a thoroughly racist and rude conversation to start the day, the day only picks up speed from there. A phone call comes in, an irate customer claiming she'd sabotaged her party. An order that was entered incorrectly by the customer, a miscommunication of what sort of flowers they wanted in their arrangements. Mae didn't know how this woman had written down Black-eyed Susan's instead of sunflowers on her order sheet, or picking a Transvaal daisy over a  shasta daisy, but she was certain this woman was overreacting at how the arrangements ruined her church's barbeque. Mae had pictures of flowers next to the names of them in her big folder that sat on the top of the shop counter specifically for this reason. She gave the book to customers coming in to make orders and it wasn't her fault she filled out the order how it was written and what the woman wrote wasn't right. She couldn't read her mind. But still, she was blamed, getting dog cussed for all she was worth, the woman even bringing the Lord into it and telling her she'd had to refund her in full. Which was in no way happening. After you sign off on the delivery sheet, everything is final. No refunds. There was a chance to say they were wrong before she signed, that's why Mae set it up that way. But the woman wouldn't listen and Mae ends up just saying 'I'm Sorry.' to everything she says, taking the abuse.

The woman gives up eventually after a few people are waiting for her attention for the lunch rush. She works as fast as she can, but the line grows as a little old lady requires her undivided attention, asking about every flower, telling her stories about the flowers her husband used to bring her when he was alive. On a slow day Mae would've indulged her fully but with customers waiting behind her the stress was sky high.

She apologizes and leaves the lady to talk to herself, ringing out people as fast as she can while they give her dirty looks. She had great pride in being a good business owner and people thinking she was bad at her job made her a mess. A child that was with a negligent parent that had been waiting, knocks over a shelf of succulents, her biggest sellers, destroying the handmade pots she'd made for them. In all, the day was a total shit show.

She shuts the shop up and cries as she finally gets around to cleaning up the broken pieces of pottery, nestling her little friends into one big pot for the weekend to deal with on Monday. She apologizes to them and she feels they understand, her tears falling into the new soil as she sniffles and packs them in. She hesitantly throws away the shattered pieces of pottery, thinking off all the time she spent painting and glazing each, how much time and money lost on them. How she'd have to ask for half the price until she could make more holders for the plants. A personal and a professional loss all in one.

She doesn't even skate home as she usually would. She throws her skates in her oversized work bag and walks, her feet feeling as heavy as her heart. Everything about the day had drained her. Her body was tired, her chest hurt from a racing heart all day from embarrassment and anxiety. Her pride took a hit from the disappointed looks from the customers. She takes a heavy breath, hand on the doorknob, hoping that Alfie wasn't about to add to the bad day she'd had.

As soon as she opens the door, the feeling she'd left the house with hits her again. She wipes her tear stained cheeks, setting her bag down by the end of the couch, seeing everything clean and tidy with candles lit and the smell of food coming from the kitchen. The house smelled amazing, it somehow felt amazing, like getting into a hot bath after the end of a long day. The build of depression holds strong as she sees everything he's done for her while she'd been out.

"Hello Mae!" he calls out cheerfully. "Ya need help with anyfing?" he says, moving pots around the stove top. "Give me just a second love and I'll be right in to help ya." he calls out over his shoulder.

She comes around the corner, her face was sunken and clearly upset, taking in the sight before her. A kitchen filled with a home cooked meal for them both. She sees bread in the oven, lasagna sitting on the table as he switches off burners and pushes the rest of a chopped head of lettuce into a large salad bowl. A tin of muffin batter sits on a tea towel at the end of the counter. She gets a swirling feeling in her stomach. It builds quickly and she starts to sob, putting her head in her hands.

He turns, wiping his hands on a towel as his eyes grow large at the sight before him. Her glow was dull, her curls falling into her face as her hands with their yellow chipped polish covered her crying face.

"No, no love now that won't do." he says, moving quickly over towards her. He takes her into his arms without a moments hesitation. "Come here, little Mae." he coos out, holding her to him. As much as he may have wanted, he didn't have much healing magic to pass around, he wasn't really a healer so much as a destroyer of things. "Shhh, there, there, love." he pats his hand on her thick hair, the smell of her shampoo rising up as he leans his face in close. She feels the warmth around her, the soft-spoken kind words from this man who had swept in and taken care of her without expecting anything in return. She felt her chest thump, her stomach building again and more sobs are pushed out as she lets herself wrap her hands into his t-shirt and press her forehead against his chest.  

He wears a deep-set frown, not knowing what was wrong, her thoughts a roller coasting of emotions, totally unstable and making his dizzy when he tried to read them. Her magic and mind were working hard and fast and he knew something must've set off the sensitive little thing she was. "Now lovely, we can talk 'bout what's got ya upset, or we don't have to say nuffin'." he gives a nod, putting his hands to her shoulders to pull her away, taking a handkerchief that was older than her out of his pocket and giving it to her.

She wipes her eyes and blows her nose with a little toot of a sound that makes him smile as she sniffles, nose twitching like a little rabbit. "I just wanna eat and sleep." she answers, staring into his chest, not looking up at him. Her voice was small but she felt smaller. She fought the urge to tell him she didn't deserve all this special treatment, she didn't understand why someone would be doing all these nice things for her. No one else ever had. Her last caregivers, the ones who left her the house had been good people, but they never coddled her. They never cleaned for her, held her while she cried, stood up for her when others would try to bring her down. They'd always left her to her own devices. She'd never had anyone to treat her like something worth going the extra mile for. It was all a bit too much on her weak shoulders after the day she'd had.

"Well lemme finish up dinner and you go get comfy and cozy on the couch and I'll come get ya and we'll take care of that 'eatin' bit, eh?" he suggests, rubbing her upper arms as he spoke to her with a voice that she could feel warming her from the inside out. Her light tried to fight past the years of neglect to make her bloom and be able to draw from that endless well of love she had so she could give it to her herself and not just those around her. But she was still weak, and there was time to grow. So it settles, feeling it's mate so close and humming in wait with a baseline of contentment.

She takes one of the fuzzy throws on the couch and wraps it around her, grabbing one of her decorative pillows and wrapping her arms around it to try to get comfy for a moment. She falls asleep while the bread is baking, her body giving over to a much-needed recharge after the stress that the day put her through.

Alfie pulls the muffins out and lets them cool, wiping his hands and giving a nod to the first big meal he'd cooked in decades. Being alone there wasn't much of a reason to cook big and when the last group of people he ran with being musicians in the 90's, he'd never had a reason to cook for a group of people. But now he had plenty of reasons to dust off the old domestic skills that his mother and sisters had helped him learn. The baking was more familiar, as per his old cover for his criminal days, but the meals were what took the most focus. With Mae's plethora of fresh herbs to use, and come harvest time a garden full of fresh produce, he was sure cooking would be something he used to help both of them learn some new skills.

He ponders what he should cover with her the next day as he watches her sleep on the arm on the couch. A headful of curls on top of a fuzzy blanket, her lips smushed out against the pillow she clutched in her arms.

"Mae." he says gently, leaning in close, a hand to her arm to rub her awake. She grunts and puffs out air between her pink and pouted lips but doesn't wake. The softness of her makes him smile, he enjoys it a moment without having to worry about making her uncomfortable. The long dark lashes spread out over freckled cheeks, her full brows set in a scowl. All curled up under the blanket she looked so small, and he supposes compared to him she is. Standing just a bit over five feet tall he supposes, her shorter frame gives her a stocky and soft appearance. With round hips that only slightly narrowed into thick thighs, he sees her small feet sticking out from the covers. Yellow nail polish to match that on her fingers on her toes. It wasn't only her body, her hair or her sweet face with it's round, button nose that was soft but her heart was as well. He could feel her power humming quietly, even it was still timid. His darkness wants it to burst, to flow out of her as it can do within him. It wants to soak up that innocence, that sweet softness that she's made of. His closes his eyes, his darkness rumbling, soaking up her delicate heat into its cold center, Alfie feels his limbs tingle, a prickling warmness that only she could give to him.

He exhales slowly, a hand soft to her hair, pushing it back. "Mae." he says, moving to give her nose a gentle tap.

"Mmph." she grunts, nose twitching as he eyes flutter open and meet his before she sits up to straighten her back, rubbing her eyes.

"Dinner's ready, love." he says, standing back up straight.

"'Kay." she mumbles, sitting in a daze as she wakes.

He beams at her, a smile she doesn't see. "Come on to the table when ya ready." he suggests, moving to go set their places.

She plops into a chair, the sleep slowly leaving her body as she watches him move around the kitchen, a towel over his shoulder as he cuts and plates her food.

"Now 'is I learned from an Italian, yeah? Found a wonderful little market when I when shoppin' today 'n got fresh cheese." he says proudly. "I went 'n did some of your shoppin' as well while I's out. Got more cleanin' supplies since I used most of 'em today. Got the bathroom and the kitchen. Dusted and vacuumed." he nods casually while trying to recall everything he did, wanting to let her know what he'd been up to, letting her know he was useful to her. "Already watered and fed all the babies." he chuckles. "Although I think a few in the greenhouse could use a personal touch. Wasn't about to try it meself. I'd just mess up all your hard work. So I figured we could start wif those tomorrow hmmm? Start simple with somefin ya like."  He moves his eyes to hers and finds a puzzling look on her face. Her eyes give true meaning to the term puppy dog eyes. Her mouth is slack, partially open and her big hazel eyes are glimmering at him. Not tears yet, but the look in her eyes says lots of things. He feels that loneliness that resides in her throbbing stronger. He decides to switch the conversation. "I made the bread, eh? That flour you use is top notch, love." he tries giving her compliments but it doesn't seem to help. "Used some cherry tomatoes out of the greenhouse for the salad, hope ya don't mind. The muffins are ready as well, made 'em with blueberries I found at the grocery. Hope ya like those." he continues plating her food. He doesn't look at her face, not wanting to seem nosey as she was clearly going through something. But he sees big fat tears fall onto the table top and he can't stop himself. As soon as he makes eye contact, he sees her face much like a baby's, a trembling bottom lip, wet rosy cheeks rounded before her face contorted and she hid it in her hands. "Oh come now, little one." he says dropping the utensils and kneeling next to her. "What is it love?" he rubs her back gently in a circle, his palm tingled as he felt the chaos inside her. Mending her was going to be a very messy job.

"Why are you so nice to me?" she chokes out between sobs.

His chest aches, his face falling out of it's friendly and polite expression he'd held in place for her sake. "Oh Mae," he whispers, pulling her to his chest. "There, there." he shushes her. "Why would I not be nice to you? You've been nothing but nice to me." he explains. "You're my mate. Your well bein' is me own, I would only be hurtin' myself to not try to take care of you." He invades her privacy, shutting his eyes and trying to see what was causing all the trouble.

He feels the day she'd had. He sees a lifetime of abandonment and neglect. All the bullies growing up, all the hardships she was given to overcome from a young age. An absent father, a childhood spent in the system and an adult life of loneliness and rejection. Putting herself out there time and time again to be met by men who didn't care or understand. He didn't see the loneliness, he felt it. He felt her bed only ever being empty and cold, he feels her heart struggling to maintain it's one-sided giving when no one would replenish it. Her power touches him as he's washed in all this hurt she knows. The light shines within her. With his eyes shut he can see it, glowing like the sun on an overcast day, trying to break through the barrier of gloom that spread across it. He can feel it's tired, that it's just as lost as her. But he most importantly feels that it knows he's there, whether Mae knows or understands it herself. Her power knew better things were ahead for them and Alfie felt more certain he would protect and help this beautiful soul as long as he could.

"I just... No one's ever... I'm not used to it. It feels..."

"Like you don't deserve it." he finishes her thought, hearing it ring true in his own head for so long.

"Yeah," she says with a whimper, looking back up at him. "How did you?" she trails off, wiping her nose.

"Because I know it too." he nods, using his handkerchief to wipe at her face. "But it's not true. Don't listen to that voice. It's a liar." he says sternly. "You deserve the world, Mae. You are bright and full of love and good and the world needs that so very desperately. You deserve every bit of kindness that comes your way. Don't you dare think differently."

Her doe eyes blink up at him, never having heard something like that said to her before in all her almost thirty years. "I..." she begins, not knowing where to finish her thought.

"You just sit and think about that, yeah?" he gives her a nod. "Let's eat on the couch." he suggests. "We'll stop this cryin'. We'll go get cozy and we'll eat until we can't breathe and that'll make ya feel better. Watch somethin' ya like?"

She nods and swallows noisily.

"Good girl." he gives her back a pat before pulling away. "Now go get ya blankets and I'll grab the plates." he says with a self-assured tone.

She lowers her head, eyes on the ground as she gets them each a blanket. He gets everything else in order and they flip through Netflix together, large plates of food sitting on pillows in their laps.

"What do ya like, eh? Nature documentaries I bet." he suggests and she gives a small but enthusiastic nod as she sticks her fork into her lasagna.

They sit together, side by side, eating the towering plates of homemade food. Alfie talks over the narrators, sharing things he knew, but mostly making up his own narration in an attempt to make her smile. "Now 'is one ain't lookin' for a mate, he's lookin' for trouble. He thinks 'is one's been talkin' shit, yeah. By the looks of 'em I'd say he's right. Look at those little shifty beady eyes, ya can't get that look past me." he wags his finger at the TV and looks down to see her smiling after a tiny huff of a laugh escapes her. "There she is." he says proudly, giving her a nudge with his elbow. She looks up at him bashfully for a shared glance, before turning her face back to the tv with a tiny smile that told him she'd be just fine.

@jaegeeeeer @negansdirtygirl22 @brianaisasongbird @hardygal69 @emerald-bijou @captstefanbrandt @coolgh0st @tinastarkandco @stylishmileage  

[jostenminyard]

who are your aftg fancasts ?

Anonymous said: have you ever thought about what actors would be perfect to play the foxes if there were ever a show/movie ?? i’m interested lol.

sorry for taking so long pals, i wanted time to really think about this! i have models/people picked out in my head for certain characters, but not any actors. and i think there is a difference there! also does anyone else picture fanart for them more than rl people? like requiemofkings/rainbowd00dles/llstarcasterll’s art is exactly how i picture a lot of them, with some exceptions.

anyways, let’s get into this

neil josten: this is tricky because in my head, he is NOT white. he has beautiful brown skin so i definitely headcanon him as either half first nations (like me!) or hispanic. they aren’t interchangeable i know but my hc as him as native is pretty much me projecting. anyway i could pick the obvious answer of jake cooper (1, 2) who is beautiful and has that pretty boy charm to him that neil has, but boy is white af. there’s also froy gutierrez, who is stunning and a lil cutie, and is actually an actor! my only problem there is that. he’s just so /cute/ that i can’t picture him as neil entirely. i’d love to hear what other people think!

andrew minyard: OH GOD. WTF. NO. HE CANNOT EXIST IN RL. THIS 5′ TALL BEEFCAKE?? WITH BLONDE HAIR AND GOLDEN EYES?? i legit haven’t ever come across anyone who fits the bill, so i usually picture fanart. that being said, there are a few people who give off andrew vibes. as nora said, toby hemingway (1, 2) has that ‘good-looking-but-kinda-scary’ look that fits andrew. but idk i think andrew has more defined facial features. i despise the thought of dane dehaan as andrew because he looks like 40 years old (not to say he isn’t good looking) but dane’s voice is definitely andrew’s 100%. also i’m not that informed about kpop but i kno this guy and he’d make a good andrew right?

aaron minyard: ^

kevin day: oh this is eASY!! the one, the only, the man, the myth, the legend, LAURENCE COKE!! he has such a beautiful face, a jacked af body, and he has that arrogant look to him that says ‘i’m better than u’ because he is! but. BUT. my dearest headcanon that i won’t allow anyone to take from me is that kevin day and wymack are native american. so that being said, a very beautiful kevin day would be dyami thomas!!

nicky hemmick: those who say tyler posey is nicky hemmick can jump in a fire. tho i will admit he could probably act as a good nicky, but,,,,, nah. nicky has dark skin. i picture him with long and curly hair, that always gets in his face. somebody on twitter once asked nora about nicky and she responded with a perfect face cast i think but i cannot remember the name. if we’re going for face/hair/body type though, this kid and this kid help build nicky up in my head.

dan wilds: dan is not white. i have never ever thought of her as white. she is beautiful with her short hair and her tiny fierceness. i think aiyana lewis is BEAUTIFUL and is who i generally picture as dan. but, like my kevin hc, i do want to believe that dan is native american. this user found the most beautiful lady that would make an amazing dan! look at her with short hair oh wow ♥

matt boyd: do i even need to say it?? reece king. REECE.KING. what a man! oh god i’m getting woozy over here

renee walker: oh sweet renee. there are so many amazing versions of her (fanart/fancasts) that i’ve seen in my time here in the fandom that it’s hard to pin her down. i’ve seen kim tae-yeon in a few edits and this picture really struck me as renee! 

allison reynolds: i just saw somebody say amber heard and lemme tell ya. i am GAY for that idea. but also kayley kiyoko. i wasn’t able to see it before but hayley kiyoko can do whatever the fuck she wants. can i also say dianna agron or is that my gleek ass projecting? IDC SHE’S THE MOST BEAUTIFUL GIRL IN THE WORLD

david wymack: listen. if you even try to tell me that dwayne the rock johnson is david wymack, i’ll block you. wtf. get more creative people. clearly jeff goldblum is the only rational option here. being serious tho, i picture this big gruff native guy as wymack. listen i don’t have a father i don’t know what they look like ok. but did any other canadian native kid grow up watching north of 60? this face comes 2 mind

i’ve just spent 2 hours on this so i think i’ll end it there! if they were to make a tv show or a movie it would be really swell if they could cast all new faces. i want to see the most diverse cast ever. i want to see actual gay people playing gay characters. i want voices that aren’t ever heard and faces that aren’t ever seen in the spotlight. hope u enjoyed 

[impatentpending]

Hey there!!! So I just finished reading up to date on your ‘Powerless’ fic and I am in loove. Its making me feel things. You made me stay up way too late reading your gorgeous fic oml. I got super inspired to make a thing, I was curious if you have any detailed designs for everyone??

Hey!  Thank you!  I’m so glad you like Powerless.  I have  ideas as to how they look, but I have no artistic skills whatsoever to actually have a visual reference. 

So, here we go, detailed design descriptions under the cut:

Virgil, my villainous son

- very tall - about 6′4″ - and super lanky

- seriously, he is all skin and bones (keeps spending days at a time in the lab and not eating :/).  Jutting hipbones, pointy elbows, sharp features, you name it

- trans dude, and wears a binder.  It’s more for mental security than anything else, but he still wants it

- He had dark brown hair at the beginning of the fic, but he dyed it the purple we see in Thomas’s videos after he blew up Roman’s statue

- His eyes are a really deep gray

- His hands (especially his fingers) are very thin and long, perfect for using delicate instruments.  He’s used to working with them for hours upon hours, so they’re very calloused, but graceful.  They’re also littered with tons of tiny scars and bruises from lab accidents or fights

- Pretty much his entire body has tiny scars from the lab

- His civilian outfit is pretty much his normal patchwork hoodie and some black skinny jeans

- HIS VILLAIN COSTUME ON THE OTHER HAND is super Emo and super aesthetic.  It’s a black coat that reaches down to about his mid-calves and has a hood.  This is the closest visual reference I could find, but picture it a bit more battered, without the stuff on the stomach, and with a Winter Soldier style half-mask he can pull over his nose and mouth.

- When he gets into The Savior mode, he has the hood and mask pulled up, and is usually found straddling his homemade hover-bike, which is equipped with all sorts of delightfully dangerous weapons

- He’s always wearing the exact same pair of scuffed black combat boots.  Fighting The Prince?  Wearing those boots.  Baking cookies with Patton?  Wearing those boots.  Kidnapping a man and cleansing his blood? Wearing those boots.  #justvillainthings

Roman, my heroic husband

- Hello friends it’s muscle time

- Not even kidding, this guy is practically made of muscle.  Not as extravagant as He-Man or anything like that, but typical Superhero physique.  Think Chris Hemsworth

- He’s literally larger than life at about 6′5″

- Also a Hispanic boi  (Cuban to be specific)

- His face is so perfect that it’s unfair.  Perfect square jawline?? Chiseled cheek bones?? Amazing, deep brown, wavy hair??  Soulful caramel brown eyes???  Perfectly even, tawny-brown skin tone???

- That being said, his body is so perfect that it’s almost unnerving.  Because he is literally invincible, he’s never bled or been cut so he has absolutely no scars or bruises

- ALTHOUGH let us never forget that, over his heart, he has tattooed a list of people that have died when he thinks he could’ve saved them / done something different so they weren’t in danger in the first place   :D

- His prince uniform is what we see in the current Sanders Sides episodes plus a pair of heavy black boots and minus the shoulder patch

- His civilian costume is a pair of dark blue jeans, a white t-shirt, black converse, and a red leather jacket

(I’m pretty sure you were just asking for Roman and Virgil but heck it, we’re getting the rest of them done too)

Patton, the genderfluid parent we all need

- He’s a baker.  He’s got a whole lotta chub

- Round is probably the best way to describe him.  He has a round face, a round body, and… okay the legs are more stretched out ovals than anything else but you know what I mean

- Thick thighs save lives, and you better believe he’s got wide hips and an amazing butt i mean what

- stretch marks for days

- He’s absolutely tiny compared to the boys; about 5′3″

- He dresses according to whatever gender he’s kinda drifted over to that day, lots of 50′s style skirts when feminine, typical polo and khakis when masculine

- All this being said, he definitely isn’t androgynous.  A large part of his internal struggle comes from being someone who is outside of the gender binary but very much looks male

- lots of freckles, perpetually sunburned shoulders, and Dimples

- sandy blonde hair and bright blue eyes

Logan, who is very done and DIDN’T ASK TO JOIN A REBELLION, KAIMI

- I purposefully left a ton of his visuals vague because I wanted everyone to be able to see him as any poc, but he’s Black

- Dark brown eyes

- Curly black hair

- Pretty tall, about six feet (he looks taller than Virgil a lot of the time though, because Virge slouches so much)

- He’s pretty lanky, but not so much so as Virgil

- He also has a bit of chub around the middle because Patton is baking him sweets 24/7

- A few scars and bruises, nothing too bad, but let’s be mean here and say he has a really faint burn scar on the back of his right hand from the night his mother was killed :D

- Nicely broad shoulders

- scientifically speaking, 87% legs

- standard clothes are a polo, skinny tie, and skinny jeans

(now i’m just being self-indulgent because HERE COME MY OCs; literally just ignore this if you want to)

Kaimi Alvi, who DIDN’T ASK TO JOIN A REBELLION EITHER, LOGAN, IT JUST HAPPENED; ITS NOT LIKE SHE WOKE UP AND WAS LIKE, ‘HEY, YOU KNOW WHAT SOUNDS FUN?? QUITTING MY JOB AN-

- Reasonably tall, about 5′5″

- Pretty trans gal

- “Pear-shape” body type

- Hijabi, and you better believe she’s got a million different hijabs in a ton of cute prints

- With it she usually wears jeans, flats, a t-shirt, and a cardigan

- Pakistani

- Medium brown skin

- light brown eyes

- scars from transition surgeries

- not really used to physical work so her hands are really smooth and well-kept

Calamity, who no one ever pays attention to

- hello friends it’s muscle time again

- not quite as insane a physique as Roman because she doesn’t have that Ability, but she works out and fights A LOT

- really nice arms

- basically no figure to speak of

- 5′9″ ish

- half El Salvadorian, half Filipina

- absolutely COVERED in scars and bruises  (vigilantism isn’t easy, y’all)

- really sharp features, always looks like she’s scowling for some reason

- not pretty at all tbh

- has a prosthetic leg that attaches right below the knee of her left leg (VIGILANTISM ISN’T EASY, Y’ALL)

- super calloused hands, works with guns a lot

- Calamity uniform is a cowgirl outfit.  (she doesn’t know either, she just has a southern accent and it works, okay?? kaimi, stop laughing)

- does not wear the hat though

- literally does not care what she’s wearing the rest of the time.  Does it cover her scars?? okay we’re good

- REALLY long dark brown hair, usually braided - braid goes past her hips

- hazel eyes

Missy Darnelle

-The Worst

Hope this helped!

(tagging a few friends who might be interested in this  @purplepatton @cashmeredragon @thecrimsoncodex @whatwashernameagain )

[winmance]

This chapter was beta by @riverfinl

“So, Jared, how are you feeling today?” Doctor Morgan asked, taking his notebook out of his bag.

“Good,” Jared said, but there was now conviction with it; and they both knew it was a lie. He’d been awake for three days, and no one came to see him.

Someone dropped his homework, but he had been asleep. It was probably Marta since he heard her walking into his room, and Jared could’ve sworn he felt it when she dropped a kiss on his forehead. He wished he had had the force to wake up, but the medication was still to strong for him.

“Did you sleep well?” Doctor Morgan asked.

“Yes.”

“No nightmares?”

“No,” he lied again.

Doctor Morgan – JD, frowned, and Jared didn’t know if he was trying not to laugh at how evident the lie was or trying not to shake him for not telling him the true. Both, probably. The first time Jared saw JD, he thought it was a joke. There he was, unable to stand up, unable to move his legs or his arms, in front of a man who looked more like a biker than a doctor with tattoos on his hands and arms and cigarettes on his desk. The room wasn’t white like the other rooms of the hospital. No, here, there were drawings, posters, and pictures on the walls along with soda cans on the floor, and if Jared hadn’t known he was in a hospital, he would’ve  thought he was in a teenager room.

JD didn’t ask him right away some deep and meaning question. In fact, he stayed on the surface for most of the sessions, simply asking him what his favorite shows was or his favorite food. It was like hanging out with a friend, and Jared quickly started to open up a little more; and without realizing it, he was talking about the problems he had in school and at home. He left Jensen out of it though.

“Alright then. You seemed really good for someone who jumped in a ravine,” JD said.

Jared bit his lips without answering. He knew what JD was doing. It wasn’t about humiliating him; it was about forcing him to face what he did, to make him talk, but it still didn’t work. Jared wouldn’t talk, and if he wasn’t in a wheelchair, he would be out of the room in a heartbeat.

“So, did you catch on your homework?”

“Yeah, well, not everything. I’ve missed almost two weeks of school, so there’s a lot to catch up on.”

“You’re telling me,” JD said, putting some chocolate on his desk. Jared wondered if the nurse told him that he wasn’t eating, or if he was trying to buy him with candies. “Why don’t you ask your friend to help you?”

“I don’t…I don’t really have friend”

“Yeah? What about the one who dropped your homework?”

“Marta? She’s…She’s not really my friend. I mean…We just talked sometimes, but I don’t think she wants to spend time with me.”

JD frowned again, but this time, he looked more intrigued than anything else with a little smirk appearing on his face, and it was Jared’s time to frown.

“Marta?” JD questioned.

“Yeah,” Jared simply replied, still trying to figure out what was happening.

“Marta as… She’s a girl, right?”

“Well, I mean, I think she is?” He was pretty sure Marta was a girl. If she’s not, then she wanted to be called one; and he won’t call her otherwise.

“How is she? Physically, I mean.”

“Oh, uh, she’s…She’s pretty with black hair and brown eyes. She’s Hispanic, tall, and maybe a little overweight.”

“I see,” Doctor Morgan said, scratching his beard. “So she’s not a football player with brown hair, freckles and green eyes?”

Jared’s heart stopped immediately, and his face must have shown something because JD smiled, apparently happy with himself.

“Did… Did Jensen come?” He whispered, fear and hope mixing in his mind, making his voice shake.

“Yeah, well, I don’t know his name, but if he matched the description then it’s him. Marta came too.”

Jensen was here? Why? Why hadn’t he stopped to see him? Maybe it wasn’t for him. Maybe someone else is at the hospital, and he was just visiting them?

“He dropped my homework?”

“Yeah, between other things,” JD leaned on his chair, watching as Jared got more and more excited by the information he was giving him.

“Other thing? What do you mean?”

“What I mean is that maybe you should ask him?”

“I don’t… I don’t think he’ll come back,” Jared said, swallowing hard as he tries to push his emotions back.

“You may be surprise, Jared. Maybe there are more people that care about you than you think.”

Jared didn’t answer, but the sentence stayed in his mind.

If so many people cared about him, where were they when he needed them?

They all knew what was going on, and yet, they didn’t do a thing. Jensen took Chad’s side; he made it pretty clear. So why would he come now?

“I want to propose something to you,” JD said, his serious expression back in place. “It’s a group session, where the person of your choice comes. It may be your parents, Marta, or Jensen. They can all come together, and we’ll talk about you.”

“I’m not sure I want to know what they think of me,” Jared laughed. “My parents didn’t even come. The staff called them. I called them, but they didn’t come. They didn’t even pick up the phone.”

JD sighed, his face showing a mixture of pity, sadness, and embarrassment. Jared didn’t want his pity. He didn’t want anyone’s pity.

“I know, Jared. I’m very much aware of it, but maybe they would agree to this? Send them a message, and we’ll see. If no one comes, we will do our session as usual. It’s our what? Seventh session together? I love being with you, I truly do, but I feel like we should focus on your relationships outside of the hospital. Of course, we’ll still have our private session”

Jared thought about it for a moment. He didn’t have anything to lose after all. He didn’t think his parents will comes, but Marta will probably. Jensen… He didn’t know if he should text him or not.

“I don’t have my phone” He said, only now realizing that he was still not allowed to have it. The only time he was allowed to use it was in Jeff’s office when he wanted to call his parents. Other than that, it stayed locked in JD office for his own safety.

“You can use it here, but I need to see what you’re doing”

“Yeah, but I’m still not sure of who I want to be here.”

“Well, who are you sure about?”

“My parents, I guess. I don’t want my sibling to come, they’re too young.” He stopped, thinking for a moment, “I… I don’t think Marta should come. I mean… She never done anything, we’re not even that close.”

“She seemed to care about you.”

“I… No. It’s… No.”

“Alright. You’re the one choosing here. What about Jensen?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“I see,” JD said, taking Jared’s phone out of his drawer. “Text your parents. Then you go back to your room, and when you make your decision, you come here. I’m working until two a.m. today, and I will tell Doctor Lucas that you’re allowed to text Jensen.”

“Yeah, ok. Uh, his name…His name is Jack, in my phone.”

“Jack?”

“Yeah, it’s… A nickname.”

JD didn’t answer right away, simply looking at Jared like he was trying to find all the answers to all his questions. Jared wouldn’t admit it out loud, but it was nice to have someone carrying so much about him, even if he knew it was only because of his job.

“You know we’ll need to talk about your relationship with Jensen, right?”

“I know,” Jared said, sending the text to his parents.

JD smiled before walking him out, and a nurse dragged him to his room, as usual. He could do it alone, but they always refused. He didn’t know if it was because of the wheelchair or because he was suicidal. He asked JD, and the only answer he got was that he was too pretty to walk alone in the hospital. That got a laugh out of Jared, the first one in a long time.

It was stupid to say, but he liked JD. He was a nice, really nice, but he knew that it was his job to be nice with his patients; however, Jared couldn’t help but think that JD liked him too. It was great to be able to talk to someone, even if Jared wasn’t really cooperative.

“Lucia?” He asked before the nurse left the room. “Did you… Did you see a boy, around my age, coming to give me my homework?”

“Jensen Ackles? Hard to miss him.” She winked before laughing, and he tried to smile, shoving back the little bit of jealousy that was growing inside of him. Jensen wasn’t his, and he had to understand that.

“Yeah. If you see him again, could you tell him to come in my room?” He could see how her brain was working by the way she smiled, her cheeks getting red as her smile went wider. “No, it’s not-I think there’s a page missing, and I can’t do the rest of my exercises.”

“Of course, I’ll tell him to come help you with your “exercises”.”

She laughed as she walked out of the room, ignoring Jared as he yelled after her.

He was left alone in his room once again, but his mind was lighter than before.

He was supposed to go home in a few days, but he wasn’t sure if it was a good idea. As weird as it sounds, he was happier in the hospital than he was in his own house. He didn’t even know if his parents would want him, and maybe he was just trying to avoid having to deal with the truth.

He spent the rest of the day watching TV or pretending too. His mind only focusing on Jensen, and if he should or shouldn’t tell him to come. Would he come if he invited him?

At five pm, he had his reeducation. Since he couldn’t do hard work because of his chest injuries, the doctor did most of the work, but it was still tiring. His legs hurt, and he hated not being able to do anything except lie down. The doctor told him that he would be able to do reeducation in the pool soon, and he couldn’t wait to be able to move on his own again, even if it was just in the water.

When the nurse putted him back in his bed, he tried to stay awake but fell asleep in no time, the little energy he had gone. He kept having nightmares, vivid ones, where he could feel and live everything that was happening, and sometimes, he wasn’t sure if it was real or not. He knew he should probably talk about it with JD, but he couldn’t find himself to do so .

If you like my work, you can buy me a coffee here

Tags : @mereka18 @dreaminblue67 @meganwinchester1999 @iheartjohnlock @sammygurl976-blog @daddycasstiel @andyoucallthisapocalypse @golly-god

[desperatelyfullforever]

Time for a Badly Written Out Omo Story!

So, remember how I said that I have tons of stories? Well, here’s one.

So, this story is me in marching band. A bit of info: tall dark-skinned girl, with curly hair that reached my shoulders and was often pulled into a puff ball. Tomboy, always wearing sweats/jeans and flannel. On this typical day however, I was not the person in dire need for a toilet. My friend was.

Let’s call her Angie. Tiny Hispanic girl without a lick of an accent unless speaking Spanish. She had long, curly/wavy hair, brown eyes, glasses, and barely stood past 5’0” at this point in time. Average body, she wasn’t overweight but wasn’t skinny either. Just a bit of pudgy belly that’s honestly adorable.

A bit more information about her: Angie typically, by some ungodly reason can go an entire school day without so much as a glance at a bathroom. I would know, I’ve known her for 7 years and she’s only urgently needed one about 6 or 7 times. So, to see her desperate is a godsend.

So, for this story, we were in high school. I’ll add that we’re both instrumentalists and thus played in our school’s marching band, her playing the clarinet while I played the trumpet. We typically did a football game for our high school varsity team once a week, while almost every week we had a competition. Then there were “double-headers”, where we would have both a football game and a competition in one day.

On this day, reporting time was 9am in the morning. Me being the good friend that I am, I call Angie and asked if she wants a coffee, because I’m on my way getting one. She said yes, got her a large. Got to school and she finishes it within ten minutes. No big deal, it was expected. We all arrive and go through today’s agenda: away football game in 2 hours, leave during halftime, arrive at competition, get home by midnight.

Not really surprised, honestly I expect it. Buses get there at 12:30, so we have a bit of time in between after a couple run-throughs. We get food, with her buying an iced tea and a water to wash the sugar out of her mouth. Both the water and tea are gone within an hour, and by the time we’re scheduled to leave we camp out in front of the school, waiting for the buses to arrive.

Did I mention that it’s incredibly hot on this day? Did I also mention how shitty the band uniforms are? Our uniforms are thick enough to trap heat inside in the summer, yet not thick enough to act as insulation in the winter. The band parents pass out water to all of us, Angie grabbing a couple.

Finally, the buses arrive. The school is roughly about a half hour away, and I sit with Angie. Normal conversation, nothing out of the ordinary. It’s at the tail end of the bus ride that I notice her a bit tenser than usual, wincing when zipping up the band uniform (they don’t stretch at all; sitting down in them is a pain because it typically just cuts into your body). “Are you okay?” I asked.

She blushed a bit. “I’m fine.”

I left it at that. Didn’t pry, didn’t ask. We finished changing and after the bus stopped, got off and heading to the game. For away games, we perform before the game unless a special request is made (such as the away team not having a marching band or some sort of halftime show), so we were asked to fill in for them. We warm up and get on the bleachers, not really allowed to play because we’re using the show as our warmup for the competition later that night.

I sit with Angie, and she’s quiet. A lot more than usual. She’s also a lot tenser than earlier, not saying anything and simply keeping to herself. “Are you sure everything’s okay?” I ask.

Allow me to describe the field. It’s fucking huge and a bit of a ways away from the high school, so there’s concession stands and bathroom (read: port-o-potties) on both sides. Today just so happens to be this high school’s Senior Day, so it’s packed with families and whatnot. She’s sweating bullets so, in concern and curiosity, I ask her, “Do you need something to drink?”

She stiffens immediately and vigorously shakes her head before stammering, “No! I mean, I…I’m good. I had a bit of water earlier when we first sat down.”

No, she didn’t. She hadn’t had anything since the bus ride, and I know the large coffee, iced tea, water bottle, and two smaller bottles of water earlier were starting to go through her. So, I decide to be a bit of a bitch and ask, “I had a lot to drink, I’m gonna head to the bathroom. Do you need to go?”

I can’t even begin to tell you how many emotions went through her eyes when I said that, and that right there told me that her bladder was, if not full, at the very least filling up enough to be of mild concern. Part of her wanted to say yes, while the other wanted to stay put. Guess what side won out?

“I’m fine. I don’t need to go.” Lies, but I left it there and went to the bathroom. Admittedly, if she had gone one of us would’ve been shit out of luck because I left to go pee around the middle of the first quarter, and the marching band leaves during the middle of the second quarter to warm up and prepare to march onto the field. I get back right as we are packing up to head onto the track surrounding the field, and Angie looks worse for wear. Typically, she’s a lot more hyper, but right now she’s quiet as hell and keeping to herself.

As we’re walking onto the field the band parents are handing us cups of water to drink before we go onto the field (right now it’s about 85 degrees, or roughly 29 in Celsius) and they won’t let us go until we finish it, so we do. Angie takes hers like it’s a damn shot and chucks the cup in the trash before putting on a face, marching to her section.

So, from that point we’re simply warming up, playing parts of the show, etc. About two minutes left on the scoreboard we stand on the track, waiting for the players to be done with the first half so we can perform. We march on in a block, with it going by grade: seniors, juniors, etc. Angie’s standing next to me, and she’s fidgeting. It looks more like her being impatient, but to the trained eye it’s clear she’s feeling full. She’s shifting from foot to foot just a tad while fiddling with her clarinet.

Finally, we perform, and let me tell you, our show this year had a TON of kneeling, running, etc. Keep in mind earlier I said how our uniforms don’t stretch, so the material digs into your skin. The show is eight minutes long, and after we perform we march off to load the buses immediately and to use the bathroom when we get to the next high school. We get on the bus, and drive to the next school.

Now, this ride is about 45 minutes long. Angie is clearly fidgety; she’s rocking back and forth and has her hands somewhat in her lap. I ask her again if she’s okay and she insists that she is. Then we hit a hard, hard bump and she gasps out loud before clawing at her uniform, saying she’s hot and wants a bit of fresh air before we march again. Okay, fair, I don’t pry.

Halfway there, re run into traffic. She’s being way too obvious at this point, and I simply watch in silence while increasingly growing turned on. We get there an hour later, having barely enough time to get ready to perform. We’re told that we’ll use the bathrooms after, which is not going to end well; we’re the third to last band, so we can’t wander too far because the second band just gets to the sidelines while the last band performs. We quickly put our instruments away and the vast majority of kids haul ass to the bathrooms or getting food. Angie and I are captains, so we straggle behind to make sure everything’s okay with our respective sections. All five of the kids in her section hands her their clarinet so that they can rush to the bathroom (she’s known for never needing the bathroom, so they just assumed), and she’s squirming like hell. Her legs are crossed and she just can’t seep to get comfortable. By this point in time, it’d be stupid to rush to the bathroom because everybody is already in line, so she’d have no chance in getting in one until after the awards.

Finally, everybody comes back. Her section takes their instruments from her, and the second they do I notice her frantically unzip her uniform (it’s two layers, a jacket over an overall-type pants that zip up in the front) and sighing in relief. It’s still warm out, so the band parents once again hand out cups, and she once again chugs it.

Boring part of it is sitting through awards. She sat near family so I didn’t really get a good look at her, but the awards lasted for about 75 minutes before we closed (about 16 bands performed, and there were a lot of awards and scores such as best drumline, best color guard, etc.), so we ended roughly on schedule (we got to the football game before around 1ish, the game started at 2, we performed at 4:30, left at 5:15, got stuck in traffic until 7:30, performed at 8:10ish, last band performed at 10:15, awards started at 10:45, and ran until midnight).

I finally meet up with Angie who’s looking entirely too anxious to leave. “I’m hungry,” she says to me, grabbing my hand and pulling me from the crowd. “Can we get food?”

I know why she wants to go. The bathrooms are right next to the concessions. Luckily, we need to leave right away because it’s so late, so the band parents had already brought food for us to eat. We grab food and drinks and board the bus again. Of course, people are being asses and using chairs as tables for plates so there are less seats. I let Angie sit in my lap as we sit by the window.

In order for both of us to be comfortable I basically wrap my arms around her so that she stays steady, which means putting pressure on her bladder. The moment I do this she winces and crosses her legs tightly (by this point we’re out of uniform, both of us in shorts and a t-shirt). I say nothing for the most part.

About five minutes in, she gets a phone call with her parents asking me to take her home. Sure, I don’t mind. We’re gonna get home after 1 in the morning, so I didn’t mind in the slightest. But that meant waitng even longer, because I typically help unpack everything, and that takes about twenty minutes.

Anyway, another few minutes pass and she begins to tremble on and off. There’s times she’s still yet tense, other times she’s squirming like fuck. She slips a bit after a bump, and I naturally tense my arms to catch her. I push a decent amount on her bladder, and she gasps loudly while grabbing herself.

“Are you sure you’re fine?” I ask. “It looks like you need to…”

“Don’t say anything,” she cuts me off as she rips her hands away. “I’m…fine…” this is said while she’s tense as fuck and rocking back and forth in my lap.

I shrug, smirking. “Do you mind handing me my water, then?”

Of course, that fucks with her hard. She grabs it out of my bag and moans, “Oh, fuck,” from feeling the condensation, tossing it onto the seat next to us. She grabs herself again and wheezes, “Fuck, I need to pee damn it!”

Finally! With her saying it she finally gives in, whimpering while rocking her hips back and forth. She’s grinding into me pretty hard, rubbing against me every so often to work me up pretty damn good. “How much time left before we get to the school?” she whispers.

“About a half hour left.”

That only seems to make her need to go more, as she clutches herself. I sit there, not knowing what to say until a few moments later she goes, “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”, grabs my hand and places it over her crotch, pressing her hands over mine while grinding into it.

Cue me overwhelmingly horny and turned on beyond belief at this point. I’d never thought I’d see the day where Angie’s dying for a piss, yet here she is, grinding into my hand while sitting in my lap. Unconsciously, I begin massaging her with the palm of my hand while relishing the sight in front of me.

Allow me to tell you how the hell we didn’t get caught. It was dark as hell inside the bus, and we were near the very back. Plus, the majority of kids were already knocked out from exhaustion. We’d only get caught if someone heard or was looking for it.

Here we are, with her grinding into my moving hand when I feel a spurt against my fingers. She moans and curls into a ball, rocking her hips harder. “Help, please,” she pleads.

Well, she asked.

Instantly I pull her against me even more and tilt her head to mine, kissing her. At first she’s understandably shocked to hell and back, but after a desperate grunt she kisses back. I rub my hand faster against her, making sure to get enough friction through her shorts.

I move from her lips and begin kissing her neck, urging her to keep quiet. She grabs at my legs and cocks her head to the side to give me more access, biting her lip. Did I ever mention that she’s bi, and we’ve had a crush on each other for the longest time? At this point we’ve had unresolved sexual tension like you wouldn’t believe, hence this situation happening like it did.

Anyway, after a lot of heavy petting I decide to risk it and slip my hand underneath her shorts into her slick folds, rubbing her clit while putting a bit of pressure on her bladder to see how she responds. She shivers and grinds harder into my hand, whispering words in Spanish. “Si bebe, no te atrevas a parar.” So, I keep going.

I never fully bring her over the edge because I don’t want her to cum and accidentally lose it, plus it’s just too good to be true for me and I don’t want it to end. By the time we get back to the school she’s leaked a couple more times and can’t keep a hand from between her legs, whether it’s mine or hers. I help pack everything away, with her standing to the side squirming and shuffling around.

I rush a bit and finish five minutes early, hurrying her to the car. Angie lives about ten minutes from the school so it’s not horrible, but right then and there it felt way too short. So, I stop for gas. It’s at this point that she’s on the verge of tears and is frantic as fuck in the car; both hands between her legs, legs moving back and forth, constant crossing and re-crossing, whimpers and moans, and so on. By the time I pull off she gasps again, louder than ever. “I can’t hold it, I’m gonna go, I’m gonna pee!” she whines, looking around as if there’s something she can go in.

“You better not piss in my car,” I warn.

She moans again and rips her shorts down, as if to squat down. “Don’t you fucking dare,” I growl. She finally lifts her shorts back up and continue holding it in, but now I hear steady, sharp leaks. By the time I get her to her house she’s so full it’s insane. She steps out of the car, makes it two steps and the damn bursts. She moans loudly it concerns me, until I notice the HUGE mess. A puddle already is forming, and she looks so relieved.

She takes about two minutes to finish, before inviting me inside and us finally sleeping together. 

[ahumanfemale]

The Italian

A little drabble requested by @power-bottom-barba-is-sad, because we never get enough Lucia Barba in this fandom.  Set after SVU was unexpectedly canceled in season 17, so we’ll never know what happened with all those death threats.  - xoxo, ahf. 

“Ma’am, may I see some ID?”

Lucia stopped in place, head slowly turning to the side.

The police officer was painfully young, Hispanic.  Still in uniform and closer to his school years than she would have preferred if his restless shifting was any indication.  Kids could smell principals a mile away, there was a chance she looked like this boy’s mother, and she would have been shocked if this boy was older than twenty-five so she still had the upper hand when she puffed a lock of dark hair out of her eyes and got a better grip on the twin bags of groceries in her arms.

“I’ve done this already,” she told him sternly.  “One of your officers cleared me two weeks ago.”

“I didn’t-, I mean I wasn’t there.  For that.  No one told me about that.”  The boy cleared his throat.  “Ma’am.”

“My name is Lucia Barba.  I’m here to see my son.”

“I understand that, ma’am, but I need to confirm your identity.”

“You have.  Multiple times,” she replied.  “Usually without requiring me to put my groceries on the godforsaken Manhattan sidewalk.”

“Ma’am-”

“Mrs. Barba!”

Lips pursed, Lucia turned to see an older brunette approaching.  

Olivia, badge and gun on her hip where the gunslingers in her mother’s telenovelas used to wear them.  She didn’t think Olivia Benson to be the gunslinger type but the look suited her all the same.

“Lieutenant,” she greeted.  “I’m being kept from my son.”

“What?  Why?”

“Ma’am, Detective Carisi told us-”

“Who?” Lucia interrupted.  “Who told you not to let me see my son?”

“No one,” Olivia said quickly and gave a wide, clearly threatening smile to the boy in front of her.  “Right, Officer… Trujillo?”

“Right,” he said slowly and nodded first at Olivia, then at Lucia.  “Feel free to go on up, Mrs. Barba.  Sorry.”

She huffed a triumphant breath and Olivia smiled.

“All fixed.  Have a nice night, Mrs. Barba,” she said and attempted to go around the back of her, toward the dark SUV parked on the curb, but Lucia didn’t give her the chance.  

“Do you know who hired that man to kill my baby?” she asked, voice strident and foot tapping.  Lieutenant Benson was less susceptible to it than most.  

“Not yet,” she admitted with an apologetic smile.  “But we’re working on it.  And in the meantime, Rafael is in very good hands.”

“Whose?” she asked.  “Whose hands?  Yours?”

“Mine,” she admitted, “And the rest of the squad.  He has people, Mrs. Barba.  Good people who want to protect him and who are going to do their best to figure out who’s behind this.”

Lucia nodded and Olivia stepped away again.

“And you’re leaving?” Lucia called just before getting to the car.

Olivia stopped in place but didn’t turn.

“Yes, Mrs. Barba.  The detective assigned to Rafael for the night is in place upstairs.”

“Do I know him?”

Lucia had to strain to hear, “Poor Carisi.”

“What?”

“Have a good night, Mrs. Barba,” Olivia called over her shoulder with a wave as she circled the car.  “Tell Rafael I’ll see him in the morning.”

“Mmhmm,” she murmured and spared one last withering look at the officer who stopped her before entering the building, who shrunk away under the weight of her disproval.  “No more visitors tonight.  We’re cooking.”

“Yes ma’am.”

…

“Rafi!” she cried, banging on her son’s door.  “Rafael!”

She heard laughter on the other side - not just her son’s.

“Rafael!”

More laughter, possibly something that sounded like footsteps.  She was rearing back to kick the door when it opened, revealing a man distinctly not her son.  Someone tall and blond with too much product in his hair and an easy sort of smile that made Lucia wonder what in the hell he was doing in a five block radius of her son.   

“Who are you?”

“Mrs, Barba,” the man started but she cut him off.

“No, I’m Mrs. Barba.  I want to know who you are.”

“Mami, this is Detective Carisi,” Rafael’s voice told her from behind the blond.  Finally the man stepped aside and she could see her son on the couch, drink in hand.  “He’s one of the detectives from SVU, helping with my security.”

“I’ve heard your name before,” Lucia admitted and then walked past him and into the kitchen.  She could feel eyes on her but ignored them as she set the grocery bags on the counter.  “The boy downstairs said you’re in charge of who sees my son and who doesn’t?”

The detective, flushed now, looked down at his hands.  “Uh, yeah, I guess.  It’s just important that we know-”

“- who his mother is?” Lucia finished for him.  “Because that child downstairs tried to detain me in my own son’s home, when I have been here several times in the last two weeks.  You’re in charge of that?”

“Yes ma’am,” he replied, chastised.  “I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“Perfect,” she said and turned her attention to the food in front of her.  Rafi wouldn’t cook on the best day, much less under stress, and Lucia was determined to stock his refrigerator with two weeks of dinners before she left.  “Rafi, come help me please.  I could use a hand and you clearly aren’t doing anything useful.”

The man was smart enough to recognize it for the dismissal it was, so he told her son that he’d be outside if he needed anything and to enjoy his visit.  Polite, at least, she couldn’t help but notice as Rafael carried a chair outside the door and then closed it behind him - a sight that made her even more suspicious, because Rafael did manual labor for exactly two people and one of those had been dead for over a year.  When he returned to the kitchen it was with a stiff glare in her direction, not that it did anything to deter her.

“Liv called me before you came up,” Rafael started.  “I think it might have been a warning.”

“A warning for what?”

“A warning that you were on the warpath,” he answered and Lucia scoffed.  

“They’ve never seen a warpath.  This is mildly irritated,” she told him and her son laughed because no one knew it like he did.  She looked him over, finding new parts of him that looked thinner.  The circles under his eyes were darker, even if his eyes seemed happy.  “What are you doing with your time?  Are you okay, are they letting you work?”

“I work all the time.”

“Are you… are these people helping you?  Are they working your case, or whatever?” she said, gesturing.

He regarded at her with eyes so direct they looked right through her.

“I’m safe, Mami.”

The shuddering breath that escaped her was probably evidence enough of her worry, her stress, her fear and her relief, but the consolation was for both of them so she accepted it with a tired smile and started pulling groceries out of the twin paper sacks.  

“Good,” she said.  “Now come help me with this mango, I can never unpeel them without breaking a nail.”

She waited until Rafael was next to her, plucking a knife from the rack to butcher the ripe mango on the cutting board in front of him.  He handled it expertly, nimble fingers delicate on the handle and pointedly away from the blade.  Her son didn’t cook, it seemed, but at least he still knew how to help her do it.  Silence reigned in the kitchen while she finished unpacking all her ingredients, started eyeing the range and wondering how many pots she could get going at once.

Outside she heard whistling.

“When you talked about the detective,” Lucia started and to his credit, Rafael didn’t jump in surprise, “You made him sound much younger.”

Rafael’s voice was neutral when he answered, “Ten years younger than me.”

“But not a child,” Lucia pointed out.  “You talk about him like he’s a grade schooler wanting teacher’s attention.  He’s a grown man and I didn’t see any stars in his eyes.”

“You didn’t look hard enough,” he scoffed but Lucia wasn’t falling for it.

“I thought he was Italian.”

“He is Italian.”

“He’s white Italian.”

“So?”

“So you think your mother doesn’t remember how you feel about blue eyes and blond hair?  They make you stupid.  My son can’t be bothered with other Cuban boys, he wants something fair and exotic,” she said pointedly while Rafael looked horrified.  “What?  I know these things.  You think I’m headless and can’t see it for myself?”

“We’re not having this conversation.”

“What conversation?  I’m just saying I notice things.”

“Notice other things.”

“Why?”

“Because my type, whatever that may be, is not something I want to discuss with my mother.  And also because Carisi is… off-limits,” he settled on finally and then gave a small shake of his head like that wasn’t what he wanted to say but couldn’t think of anything better.  “He’s Catholic and if he’s not closeted completely I’d be surprised, not that out and still religious would be any better.  Beyond that, we work together.  He’s a good man.”

“And what are you, a felon?”

“Not if they never catch me.”

“Rafael,” she admonished with a small slap on his arm that made him laugh.  “But this good man is here for you?  He’s watching you?”

“He’s part of my security detail, yes,” Rafael answered and transferred the mango pieces into a bowl while Lucia took an onion from its net bag and set to work on the cutting board next to him.  “Both Olivia and Rollins have young children so he’s been kind enough to volunteer more of his time while Fin coordinates the uniforms.”

“That’s a fairly unimaginative way to say he wants to spend time with you,” Lucia observed and Rafael had already started shaking his head.  “No, it is.  The least he could have done is wait until someone didn’t want to hurt you.”

This made him laugh and after forty-five years, Lucia had yet to find a better sound in all the world.  

If Rafael Barba was still capable of laughing, things would be okay.

It meant Rafael trusted his friends, his colleagues.

It meant he trusted the pretty white boy outside his door, whistling, because he was respectful enough to want Rafael to have an uninterrupted visit with his mother.

“It’s probably killing him, you know,” Rafael told her in a low voice.  

“What is?”

“The man outside that door has probably never had a mother dislike him in all his thirty-five years and you just rush in and yell at him and banish him to the hallway,” her son said but there was a sparkle in his eye that told her he found it funny, too.  “He’s probably questioning his entire life about now.”

“Well,” she sighed and set down the knife.  “Go let him in.”

Rafael looked over at her, trying not to grin.  “What was that?”

“Go let the Italian in the apartment,” she clarified.  “If he’s going out of his way to keep my son safe then he has a seat at my table.”

“My table, Mami,” he reminded kindly but pressed a kiss to her temple all the same.  She tried to pretend it didn’t warm her up from her polished toes.  “And thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” she warned, brow drown as Rafael walked to the front door.  Looking relaxed, looking happy.  Looking distinctly unworried about the man who had threatened to kill him.  “He still has to spend a dinner with your mother.”

“He should be so lucky,” Rafael told her smugly, as though dinner with an old woman were a treat, and she was reminded once again at how lucky she was to have such a good boy.  

“Flatterer,” she murmured and went back to dicing onion.  The blade was heavy and all too familiar in her hand and cut through the vegetable’s flesh with hardly an ounce of pressure on her part.  Lucia continued, “If he knows what’s good for him, he will be too.”

[lifestones]

Project Eden Chapter 1

Unfortunately, I was unable to finish the one shot I had originally planned in honor of Red’s birthday today. So instead, I will be sharing the first chapter of Eden! Happy birthday Red!

Rated M for swearing. 

Sunday, April 12th, 2015.

Subject: Red Dragon.

There was no better way to start my day than by getting a bullet pulled out of my fractured radius… without anesthesia. Sounds fun, right? It was thrilling. Best thing to happen to me all year. Needless to say, Charlotte was efficient at the job. She was, after all, studying to be a nurse. I was used to pain, but… this hurt like a motherfucker.

I was just sitting on a stool in the infirmary in our base, which was under the nightclub, Euphoria, that we run to bring in funds and disguise our true identity.

Who are we? The Dragon Girls, of fucking course. Only the best girls-only gang in all the boroughs of New York City. And I just so happen to be the boss. But that was why I was getting treated here and not in, say, a hospital. I called us a gang, but it was a loose term. I preferred thinking of us more as a team of vigilantes. Yeah, we were criminals to the cops—for taking out the real criminals they couldn’t touch because of lack of evidence. We did the public a service, even if they didn’t fucking see it.

“You are seriously lucky, Red,” Charlotte muttered as she looked at the bullet she had pulled right out of my bone. “It wasn’t in as deep as I thought it would be.”

Charlotte D’Amore was her name, and she was the same age as me—well, until tomorrow when I turn twenty-one. We went to high school together, until we both dropped out when we were sixteen. She was originally from some hick town in Alabama. Her family moved to the city four years ago, when her father got a big promotion. But her father was an abusive piece of shit who beat both her and her mom, and her younger brother could never do anything about it without ending up in the hospital.

We first met at a hospital before school started. I was there for a physical. She was there due to an "accident"—aka her asshole father beating her so badly, he broke her nose, left arm, and gave her a concussion. We met at school after that, and we sort of became friends. I ended up helping her run away and we pretty much started the Dragon Girls together. She became my new best friend. We tried dating for a bit, but we decided it was better to stay as friends.

I would’ve said something if I didn’t have a washcloth inside my mouth to bite onto while she worked on my arm so I wouldn’t take a chunk out of my tongue. So I just gave a shrug, which I immediately regretted as the movement triggered sharp pain to shoot through my right arm. I could feel the blood dripping down my skin from the open wound, but I didn’t dare look down to see for myself. Seeing my own skeleton was not a life goal of mine.

“All right, I’m going to stitch you up now,” she said, turning to get the-

I stopped that train of thought. I really did not want to think about it.

Instead, I just focused on watching her, as long as I did not look at her hands or arms. Charlotte was absolutely gorgeous. She had thick, wavy golden blonde hair that fell to the small of her back, with fringe bangs, tied back in a half ponytail like usual, and her eyes were a calm shade of blue. Even though it was like three in the morning, she was fully dressed, wearing a black turtleneck that hugged her figure, black leggings, and stiletto boots that added like two inches to her height.

She was my second-in-command, and I relied on her to ensure that our communications were running smoothly while we were out on missions. She stayed behind the scenes more than I did. She was also better at staying behind the scenes than I was. I needed… action. Part of it was having ADHD and needing to be on the move.

I needed to be directly involved, even if it put me in danger—which was how I got shot in the first place. Bullet wounds were nothing new to me, but this time, it had been because I saw one of the ass wipes we were taking care of about to make a death shot on one of my girls, and I pushed her out of the way, taking it in the arm instead. Nobody was going to die on my watch.

But even watching Charlotte wasn’t enough to distract me from her work, so I ended up just closing my eyes and biting down on the cloth to keep quiet from the pain. It seemed to last hours, but it was probably only a few minutes. But it was a relief when I felt her wipe down my arm with a wet cloth to clean off the blood, and then she splinted it, before wrapping it up with bandages. She had set the bone before going in for the bullet, so that was all that needed to be done. A few minutes later, my arm was in a makeshift sling and she yanked the washcloth out of my mouth before I could do it myself.

“Y’know, I normally don’t like bein’ gagged,” I joked.

Charlotte rolled her eyes before smacking me on my shoulder. “Very funny, Red.”

“In all seriousness, thanks,” I said, sliding off the stool. “We’re really lucky you’re studyin’ to be a nurse.”

Out of all the high school dropouts here, Charlotte was the only one to pursue her GED. She was also the only one interested in a normal life. I was dreading the day she graduated, got a job, and moved on from us. I knew it was a life better suited for her, but at the same time… I was tired of being left behind.

“Yes, well, if someone quit being so damn reckless, this wouldn’t keep being a problem,” she stated bitterly, turning her back to me. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to wash up and head to bed. You should do the same.”

Ouch. She was pissed. I didn’t blame her, but damn. Charlotte was rarely hostile to me. But I also knew she really had not liked today’s mission. It was, after all, making trouble with the Battaglia crime family. She hadn’t been particularly vocal about it, but considering that I rarely ever change my mind, there was no point in arguing with me in the first place.

Charlotte had always been the sensible one out of the two of us. I’m not gonna lie—I can be a little crazy. Originally, she had just wanted to get away from her abusive home life. So had I. But I had also fallen into an extremely unhealthy pit of shit at the time, and after I snapped out of it (after nearly dying in the process), I had wanted to do something to fix this shitty as fuck world of ours. So I came up with the idea for the Dragon Girls—a vigilante gang that does what the cops can’t. She had supported me, but not without her own reservations.

Did I have blood on my hands? Yes. But only of monsters worse than me.

Still, there was no point in staying up when it was so late. I left the infirmary, and headed downstairs to the second basement floor under Euphoria, where all the bedrooms were. A lot of the girls had their own places, but some of us lived here. Not everyone was a fighter like me. We took in a lot of runaways as well—mainly girls who had abusive homes.

I knew what it was like to be powerless, and I would do anything I could to make sure these girls stopped feeling that way.

As soon as I stepped into my room, I pulled my holsters off my belt and dumped them on the table near the door where I kept all my guns. It took some effort with only one usable hand, but once that was done, I kicked off my boots and jeans. Actually putting on pajamas was too much effort, especially with one hand, so I climbed into bed as is. And within moments, I was out.

~ * ~ * ~

I ended up sleeping in until like noon, which was fine with me. All we did on days following big missions was celebrate. So I hauled myself out of bed, took a shower—which was a pain in the ass to do with a broken arm—and got dressed. I threw my leather jacket over my shoulders before heading out; I may not be able to wear it properly, but Euphoria could get cold and that’s where I was going to be.

I headed out to the kitchen to grab a bite to eat. When I got there, several others were already chowing down.

“Ey, good mornin’, boss,” Hector Espinosa, the one guy in our group, greeted me. “Glad to see you’re doin’ better.”

Now you’re probably wondering why a guy was doing here when I said that we were females only. Well, Hector originally came to us as a girl. He was one of the runaway cases, and after living with us for a few months and befriending one of the girls who just so happens to be transgender, he finally realized that he’s trans. We’re girls only, but I knew that just kicking him out was against what morals I do have and I knew he would be even worse off. So, I let him stay and gave him a job to be a bouncer for Euphoria so he could have money for medical bills that would come with his transitioning.

Despite being born female, Hector had always been a behemoth; the kid was only nineteen but he stood over six feet tall. He was built on the stocky side, which had to make binding a pain in the ass. He was, as his name suggests, Hispanic. He kept his straight black hair nice and short, his skin was bronze, and his eyes were deep brown.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” I waved him off as I sauntered over to the stove. I paused, and sniffed the air. Something… had been burning. “God, did Maya burn the eggs again?”

“H-Hey! It was an accident!” the girl in question exclaimed defensively. “Hector distracted me!”

Maya was one of the younger members, a junior in high school. Her family life sucked ass, so she legally removed herself from her mom’s custody when she was sixteen and has been living on her own ever since. She’s also been in and out of Juvie, for drugs and other stupid shit. She joined us about six months ago, so she was relatively new here as well. She was seventeen now, and she had her wavy black hair pulled back into the usual low ponytail, her skin was darkened with tan, and her eyes were brown.

“Give the jailbait a break, Hector,” I scolded jokingly as I walked over to the fridge. “God, what am I, your babysitter?”

That earned laughs from everyone in the room. Everyone knew that Hector and Maya had a thing, but the extent of that thing wasn’t something I knew. It was none of my business, anyways. I was their boss, not their nanny, no matter how much I joked about it. Rummaging around, I found the egg carton and took it out.

“Guess I’ll just have to show you how to properly do eggs,” I said, shutting the fridge door with my shoulder.

“You would know, boss,” Hector snorted.

I laughed. “Good one. Yeah, I would, wouldn’t I?”

I set to work then, deciding that I wanted sunny side up eggs for a change. We usually just scrambled or fried them, since it was easier. But if I wanted to show off—which was the entire point of this exercise—I would have to make something fancy. An omelet was too much work for one arm, so this would suffice.

“Uh, boss? Do you need help?” I heard Maya ask.

“I got it,” I said, setting the pan down on the burner and turning on the stove. “You nerds forget I’m ambidextrous.”

Besides, if I was going to deal with this broken arm for who knows how many months, I needed all the practice I could get with using my left hand. God, this was going to be weird.

~ * ~ * ~

After breakfast was done and the kitchen had been cleaned up, I headed upstairs to Euphoria. We had a secret back entrance in the employee only area that had stairs leading downstairs to our headquarters. Even though it was fairly early in the day for partying, it was also a Sunday, which meant more guests than usual during this hour. Kaylee, one of the girls who worked as bartender, was behind the bar, washing some glasses. I headed over to the bar and plopped down on one of the barstools.

Kaylee turned towards me. “The usual, boss?”

I nodded. “You know me.”

Yeah, I was underage and I drank alcohol. Nobody could stop me. And my birthday was tomorrow, so it wasn’t a big deal anyways.

Kaylee slid a glass of 1994 Taylor Fladgate Vintage Port—my current favorite wine that I had allowed to be opened this year in honor of my approaching twenty-first birthday. It was, after all, made the very same year I was born. I was the only one who could drink it, though. You could say I’m very… possessive about my wine. It was the only booze I really liked. Guess once crème de la crème, always crème de la crème. Growing up filthy rich stuck with me in some ways, I regret to admit.

I lifted the goblet to my lips to take a sip of the wine as someone else sat down on the stool to my left. I didn’t really pay attention to who it was, until they spoke.

“I’ll have a glass of champagne, darling.”

My gaze darted over to my left. Just like I suspected—it was Astrid Glaisyer, an infamous assassin who we had worked with in the past. She was in her mid-twenties, tall and curvaceous, with long, curly mahogany brown hair, fair skin, and striking light green eyes. She was wearing a black lace bralette with a leather jacket over it, jeans, and a pair of black stiletto boots. She could pull off any look she damn pleased, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think she was hot. But I don’t mix work with pleasure.

Kaylee slid a flute of our finest champagne over to Astrid, who continued to completely ignore me to down the entire glass. “Ah. Refreshing.”

“...What are you doin’ here, Astrid?” I asked warily.

She laughed lightly, head turning towards me. “Oh, darling, I thought you would be delighted to see me.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I’m really not in the mood to play your mind games, Astrid.”

Like I said, Astrid was a trained assassin. I didn’t know the full story, as it was none of my business, but there were rumors. It was said that there was this kingpin in Russia who had young girls kidnapped from their homes, all over the world, to be brought to him and trained to be killers. Astrid was supposedly one of these girls, and while I wasn’t one to immediately believe every single thing I heard in the criminal underground, this rumor was so rampant, it was probably true. We ended up working together due to sharing the same target—a corrupt millionaire who was secretly involved in human trafficking.

“Aw, you’re no fun, Red.” She pouted dramatically. “I thought we had something.”

I rolled my eyes, and took a sip of my wine. “Seriously, what’re you doin’ here?”

She sighed disappointedly, reaching up to brush her hair behind her back. “I came here for business, but was hoping for pleasure—that is, if you would care to satiate my curiosity~.”

“Business sounds great,” I deadpanned.

“Well… suit yourself, then.” Astrid reached into her jacket and pulled out a manila envelope. “I thought you would be interested in seeing this. It’s a new hit we received yesterday.”

Frowning, I took the envelope from her and set my wine glass down on the counter. I opened it up carefully, and slid out the contents. I looked over the papers quickly, only for my eyes to widen in shock as I realized who the photograph and information files were about. A sickened feeling sunk deep into my stomach, like I was going to vomit. All I could do was stare at it in shock for a few moments.

It was my little sister, Clarisse.

I almost didn’t recognize her in the picture, but after a moment of studying it, I realized it was definitely her. It had been five years since I had last seen her... I had been sixteen when I ran away, and she had only been eleven. She was fifteen now, a few months shy of her own sixteenth birthday. The photograph was clearly a school portrait, with the blue background and my sister wearing her school uniform. She had long, pin straight naturally platinum blonde hair pulled back into a perfect—and I mean fucking perfect—high ponytail that was angled to the side. Her skin was pale, like she didn’t get outside much, and her eyes were dark brown, like coffee. I noticed that her clothes were hanging loosely from her body, like she was too thin.

“You… got a hit… on my baby sister?” My voice was like ice as I looked up from the picture. “Who the fuck ordered this?”

“If I knew, I’d tell you,” Astrid answered calmly, unfazed by my icy rage. “Our clients are all anonymous to protect their identities. I don’t like killing children, regardless of how high the pay is. So I thought I’d hand this over to you, so you can find the sick bastard who wants your sister dead. Though… you don’t appear to be in the best position for that right now.”

I scowled, my good hand clenching into a fist. “Do I look like I fuckin’ care? I’ll slit the bastard’s throat myself.”

Again, my bloodthirsty comment did not bother her. “I did spend most of yesterday trying to figure out just who sent this order in.”

“And?” I prompted brusquely.

“EDEN, Co.’s enemies are not so desperate they would want a teenage girl to die,” she stated grimly, her green eyes meeting mine. “I’m afraid that this could be an internal attack.”

Ugh… EDEN, Co was part of the Pendragon conglomerate that my family, the Pendragons, owned. Like I mentioned earlier, I came from a filthy rich family. And my family was not only one of the richest in the world, but one of the largest.

We had three “branches” if you will—the European branch in France, the Asian branch in Japan, and the American branch in, well, America. The Pendragons originated in Great Britain, but moved to France sometime before the American Revolution. Then on a business venture, they visited Japan. One of the sons of the CEO—or whatever the hell the equivalent was back then—fell in love with a woman there, and as part of the business venture, married her. We had a place in the east ever since. Our family became divided then, to the point where our bloodlines had become so distant, we were only related through legal means. So my grandfather, Osamu Pendragon, the heir of the Japanese line, married Caroline Pendragon, the heiress of the French line, and they moved to America to create a new branch that would regulate the other two in hopes of reuniting the entire family.

Their dreams did not come true. Hell, relations between both sides were worse now. But still, going to assassins to off the heiress seemed a bit… much. The hatred in our family was not that strong. Or at least, that was what I liked to believe.

“What the hell makes you say that?” I demanded.

“Most businessmen are not murderers, Red,” she stated coolly. “But your uncle? Something about him makes me… uneasy. And it is extremely difficult to unsettle me.”

I bristled at the mention of my uncle. Basile Pendragon was his name, and he was the younger brother of my dad, Xavier Pendragon, who died about eight years ago. I was only thirteen years old at the time—much too young to claim my inheritance and become the new CEO of Eden, Co. So Basile took the position in my place. I lost my position as heiress when I ran away from home, leaving Clarisse as the only American Pendragon left to take over.

It wasn’t something I thought of often anymore. That part of my life was long gone. But if my sister was in danger, I would have to suck it up and dive back into that shitty as fuck world.

“Tell me somethin’ I don’t already know,” I muttered.

My issues with Basile ran deeper than him taking my position away from him. But that was something I really did not want to think about. It was why I was the leader of a gang, and not the youngest multi-billionaire in the world.

“But Basile wantin’ to murder his own niece?” I shook my head. “He may be a bastard, but she might as well his heir. What the hell would he gain from that?”

“You tell me, Red.”

I scowled. “Well, sorry, I don’t have the fuckin’ answer.”

It was… complicated. Dad and Basile had a falling out at some point after my dad returned from a two year old business trip. Then, eight years ago, during the holiday season, for whatever reason, my dad decided to make amends with his brother. He invited Basile to spend Christmas and New Years with us. One day, when I came home from present shopping with my mom and sister, I… found my dad in his study, dead. Everything went to shit after that.

Astrid shrugged. “You know him better than I do. And you’re smarter than you let on. I’m pretty sure everyone who has ever worked with you knows this.”

...Considering that I have an IQ of 150, that was a bit of an understatement.

I scowled, picking up my glass of wine to take a long drink, and then set it back down. Ugh. I needed alcohol just to get me through having to think about this shit.

“The only reason I can think of is total bullshit,” I retorted.

“And that is…?” she prompted.

“Basile would want Clarisse dead if, and only if, he had his own kid somewhere…” I glowered at my glass of wine, before looking over at her again. “He isn’t married, which doesn’t mean shit, but I’m pretty sure the whole world would know if he had a kid. Which doesn’t make sense. Why the hell would he hide it?”

Unfortunately, I could think of a few reasons. All of which I quickly pushed out of my mind.

“Does it really?” she inquired, raising an eyebrow, like she could see right through me. “Your uncle has always displayed a desire to take over your family’s conglomerate. Perhaps he’s hiding something.”

“That’s an understatement.” I fought the urge to down another gulp. “A blind person could see he’s a shady motherfucker.”

“I think it’s still something to keep in mind,” Astrid stated. “Because someone wants your sister dead, and there must be a reason why. I’ll be keeping in touch.” Standing up, she reached into her purse, pulled out a twenty-dollar bill, and slapped it down on the counter. “Keep the change.”

I watched as she slinked off, lithe as a cat. I swore it was like she wasn’t even human sometimes. And honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised. More and more aliens—as in the kind from outer space—were coming to our planet every day.

Looking back down at the papers resting on the manila envelope, with her school picture on top, I picked my glass back up. I was going to at least finish this wine before going to do anything about this. And of course, I had to talk to Charlotte.

But there was no way I was just going to stand back and let my sister die.

~ * ~ * ~

“Red, are you sure this is a good idea?”

We were sitting in Charlotte’s car, parked on the side of the road in front of the Pendragon mansion on Carnegie Hill in the Upper East Side. It was an elaborate French Renaissance style mansion, four stories high, right down to the gargoyles on the roof. My grandparents bought it when they immigrated to America. When I was a kid, I used to be terrified of the gargoyles, thinking they came alive at night and would eat me if I left my bedroom. It was one of the few mansions in the city still used as a home.

“No, but I needta get to the bottom of this.” I turned my head to look at her. “Clarisse could be in some serious trouble.”

Charlotte sighed, glancing down at the steering wheel. “Just be careful, Red.”

I flashed her a bright grin. “Babe, I’m always careful!”

She gave me a flat look. “Every time you say that, you do something reckless and get yourself hurt.”

“...Look, Charlotte, all I’m gonna do is go up, knock on the door, and ask if Clarisse is home. Mamoru always answers the door. Well, he will if he’s still the butler…”

The thought of Mamoru no longer working in the place I once called home made me very sad. A bit pissed too, but mostly sad.

“All right,” she sighed. “Just hurry up.”

I unbuckled my seatbelt, pushed open the door, and heaved myself out of the car. Shutting the door behind me, I walked down the sidewalk and scaled the short set of stairs that led up to the front door. I stopped in front of the door, suddenly unsure if this was really a good idea or not. It had been five years—five long as fuck years. I had no idea what my sister even would be like.

Clarisse has always been Diana’s favorite. Ever since she was born, it was always Clarisse Clarisse Clarisse. She was the perfect one—the daughter Diana had always wanted. Me? I may have the IQ of a genius, but having ADHD made it almost nearly impossible for me to function in a classroom environment. But Clarisse had everything—beauty, intelligence, no mental issues, supportive parents. Yeah, Dad had been hard on her, but he was hard on both of us. It wasn’t like how Diana treated me. I struggled in school, got detention at least once a week, frequented the principal’s office… I could go on and on.

Clarisse had always adored me, despite all the contempt I felt for her initially. I did love my sister—and I still do—but after being treated like complete shit and being told I was doomed for failure, while she got raised on a golden pedestal… It was really hard not to be bitter. But we were still close, and deep down, I was worried how me leaving had changed how she felt about me.

But… I couldn’t stay away forever. She was my sister and I would have to try to make this right eventually. Now was a good a time as any.

So, steeling myself, I lifted my hand and pounded the door knocker.

After what seemed like an eternity, I heard someone begin to unlock the door. Moments later, it opened, revealing a stately older Japanese man who was, without a doubt, Mamoru Nakajima, who had helped run the Pendragon household since before my dad was born. He seemed to have aged considerably since I had last seen him, as his dark hair was now silver, and his face was creased with age lines. He was wearing the usual black suit with a black tie.

His dark eyes widened as he saw me. “Miss Ellie?”

I almost cringed at my old nickname. My full name is Elysia Pendragon, and growing up I went by Ellie. It was a painful reminder of who I used to be—who I would never be ever again. That little girl was long gone.

“Uh, hey, Mamoru.” I let out an awkward laugh, reaching up to rub the back of my head with my good hand. “I know, I know… it’s been forever… but I was wonderin’, is Clarisse home?”

Mamoru grimaced. “Ah… I’m afraid not. She is currently out with… friends.”

“Oh, Aimee and Gigi?” I asked, recalling her childhood friends.

He shook his head. “No. She has made… new friends. I believe it is the very same crowd you ran with before you left us.”

“WHAT?!” My voice cracked up an octave. “God, are you serious? Is she stupid or somethin’?! Ugh, sorry Mamoru, but I’m gonna go haul her ass outta there. We’ll have to catch up some other time.”

~ * ~ * ~

It was an understatement that this was one of my least favorite places in all of New York City. It was in one of the sleazier areas of Hell’s Kitchen, where people only go if they want to get shot up—by a gun or a needle. I used to come here all the time with the new “friends” I made in high school late freshman, early sophomore year. We’d go to this old abandoned townhouse to drink, smoke, do a variety of recreational drugs, and have sex.

I am not proud of what I did that year, and it stuck with me even when Charlotte managed to convince me to run away. It started out simple, like always. First it was just getting drunk and doing stupid shit—like letting one of the guys fuck me without protection. Then they got me into smoking pot. Then I tried out coke. And then I jumped right into heroin. I was so desperate to numb all the internal agony tormenting me, I was willing to do anything. I abandoned my childhood friends for these dipshits. If it wasn’t for Charlotte, I would either still be in this pit or I’d be dead. Probably the latter.

I hated being reminded of my weakness. I couldn’t even remember how I went cold turkey without dying. And yet here I was, about to step back into this hole of dark memories just to drag my sister out of hell. That was going to be a feat with a broken arm.

“Are you going to be okay going in there?” Charlotte asked warily. “Do you want me to go in with you?”

I shook my head. “No, it’s fine. I don’t want you in there anyways.”

Not feeling like discussing it further, I got out of the car. This place was so damn shady, and I was used to shady. Charlotte had her gun on her, and I had mine hidden in my jacket just in case. But if anyone recognized me, they would wisely give me a wide berth. I headed up to the front door of the shoddy townhouse that had definitely seen better days. I could already smell cigarette smoke. I tried not to cough. I hated that shit so much.

I lifted my good hand to pound on the door. When there was no response, I scowled to myself. I really was not in the mood for this shit. I tried the doorknob, and the door opened with ease. God, anyone could walk in here and just murder them. Idiots.

As I stepped inside, I was hit by a mix of cigarette and marijuana smoke that immediately made me cough. I covered my nose with my sleeve for a moment before proceeding further in. This place really hadn’t changed much over the past five years, except for there being more chips in the ugly floral wallpaper and more unidentifiable stains on the walls. The floorboards creaked under my boots as I walked further in, making my way to the main room.

I could hear laughter as I got closer. Once I reached the open doorway that led to the living room, I saw just what was going on. I only recognized a few faces. Two of my old classmates were smoking weed. Two others who I recognized from the grade below me were shooting up something. There were a bunch of high schoolers drinking beer in the far-right corner, laughing and joking amongst themselves. And then there was my dear baby sister, on her back on one of the ratty, flea infested couches, half naked, with only her bra and panties on, while a guy, also half naked with only his boxers on, was on top of her, sucking on her neck.

…’Kay, this was not what I expected when I came looking for her.

“CLARISSE WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOIN’?!”

Not gonna lie, the reactions to me screaming were priceless.

Clarisse shoved the guy on top of her away so hard, he fell right on his bare back on the rough wooden floor. Several of the drunk high schoolers fell off the table they were sitting on. The smokers dropped their pipes. And the junkies looked up drowsily.

“ELLIE?! What the hell are you doing here?!”

I scowled darkly, and walked right up to her. The guy hastily scrambled out of my way. At least he wasn’t completely stupid.

“What the hell do you think?” I snapped. “I hear you’re in some kinda trouble, so I stop by to see if you’re at the mansion, but no, Mamoru fuckin’ tells me you’re here in this shithole!”

Clarisse looked exactly like her school portrait, except for a few things. Her ponytail was no longer so perfect, mussed up from the foreplay I had interrupted. And she had some rather bold makeup on—thick black eyeliner, silver eyeshadow, and red lipstick that had left marks all over that guy’s body. Still glowering at me, she hastily grabbed her shirt and pulled it back on. But she wasn’t quick enough to hide the fact that she was almost skin and bones.

“Aren’t you being a little hypocritical, Miss Crimson Dragon,” she retorted icily. “They’re your friends too!”

“Friends? Friends? Really?” I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest. “That’s bullshit and you know it, Clarisse. There’s a reason why I’m not still here. They’re not your real friends!”

Clarisse stood up, hands clenching into fists, and I realized she was at least two inches taller than me. “Shut up! SHUT UP! Why do you even care?! You left me!”

Her explosion ricocheted across the entire room, making literally everyone freeze. I was so used to being the angry one, I wasn’t sure how to react to… to my sister’s rage. She was trembling, her fists clenched so tight, her knuckles turned white. Tears slowly began to pool in her dark eyes, reminding me of how she tended to cry whenever she got pissed off. All I could really do was, well… stare at her in shock.

“You’re gone for five fucking years without saying a word!” she spat venomously. “And you think you can just waltz back into my life and tell me what to fucking do?! I don’t need you, Ellie! I don’t need anyone! I can do whatever the hell I want, and you can’t stop me! I’m better than you, and you know it!”

Her words were like daggers, piercing right into me, but I deserved all of it. Because she was right—well, about that part. She was still a fifteen-year-old girl spouting probably the same attitude I had at her age. But it was obvious that nothing I said was going to get through to her.

So I just nodded, shoving my good hand into my pocket. “Suit yourself, then. Have fun fuckin’ up your life, Clarisse.”

With that, I turned around and walked away before anyone else could say anything to me.