#again none of these characters i mine i just drew 'em

[fayedrawswc]

Huge cat art dump!! Most are warrior cat OCs that belong to other people, so I figured I’d post them here!

[preciousprentiss]

Prompts of Hotchniss - Chapter Four

Prompt: Person A has become bitter and, well, rather prickly, and Person B goes to find out why they are acting so out of character so suddenly.

Closing the door behind him once he’d stepped into his office to find Emily sitting on the couch with her head in her hands, Aaron drew the blinds and walked over to his desk before all but slamming down the file in his hand. He turned back to her then, folding his arms across his chest, and sighed when she lifted her head and looked at him after raking her fingers through her hair. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you since we got back from San Diego, but this has to stop now. I’m so tired of this, Emily, and I’m not the only one. It was appalling, how you spoke to Garcia during briefing, and I hope you’re pleased with yourself because she left that room in tears. What made you believe you could speak to her like that?”

“You’re not my father. I don’t have to explain myself to you.” She muttered.

“No, I’m not your father,” He agreed with a shake of his head. “I’m your boss and your superior, so that means you do have to explain yourself to me, actually.”

“My boss and my superior...” She scoffed. “So, you’re only my boyfriend outside of work. While we’re here, I’m just another member of the team in your opinion. Well, I guess I know where I stand. Shows how much you really care about me.”

“Don’t be stupid,” He groaned. “Of course, I care about you. I love you.”

“Yeah, well it seems as though you care about the team a little more than me at the minute.” She replied before dropping his gaze and picking at her nail polish.

“You’re making this team miserable!” He snapped, causing her to glare at him. “No one feels as though they can say a word or make a suggestion without risking you losing it. It’s almost been a fortnight since the San Diego case and everyone, myself included, has been walking on eggshells around you ever since because of the horrid mood you’ve been in. You and Garcia were closer than sisters once, Em, she would confide in you about anything and everything, but she doesn’t dare bother you with it anymore because she’s not sure how you’ll react. Before, I thought that she was being stupid, but your actions in the round table room this morning kinda proved she has right to be nervous.”

She blinked back the tears in her eyes. “You should just leave me if you think I’m such a terrible person.”

“I don’t think that,” He told her softly, forcing himself to calm down. “I’m just asking you to consider their feelings.”

“Why should I when not a single one of them cares about mine?” Her voice trembled. “When none of them notice…”

“I don’t understand what you’re telling me,” He frowned. “What aren’t they – we – noticing?”

Silently, once she had palmed the tears from her cheeks and smudged her mascara, she reached into her purse and rummaged around for a time before pulling out a wrapped sanitary pad. “I took three stupid tests a week before we went to San Diego and all of them came back positive. I didn’t tell you about the baby at the time because I thought it would be better to surprise you with the news on our anniversary. I planned on making shirts for the kids and for them to be wearing them when you got in from work, but the cramping started before we even landed in San Diego. I think, deep down, I knew I was losing it, but I didn’t want to believe it. I…I had to when I started bleeding though.”

“Em…” He groaned, sinking his nails into his palms as he held back his tears. “You should have come and told me.”

“I tried! I tried to tell you four times!” She shouted, throwing the sanitary pad back into her purse as tears streamed down her face while she sobbed. “I tried to tell you about it as soon as I found out, but you told me it would have to wait when I asked if we could talk in private because a promising lead had just come in. I tried again and again, the whole time we were out there, but something always got in the way and then I made the decision to just not tell you because you were so pleased we had caught Hernandez and saved those women. You had been so stressed all week and telling you about the miscarriage would have made things so much worse. I…I never thought it would affect me as much as it has done. This isn’t me, Aaron, this isn’t who I am. I don’t treat people like this and…and I’m, uhm…”

When she brought a hand to her mouth out of habit and started biting her nails, he pushed away from his desk and made a bee-line for her before joining her on the couch and pulling her into his arms. Honestly, he’d half-expected her to shove him off, still having more to say, so he was relieved when she went to him willingly and buried her face in his chest to muffle the sound of her cries. “Hey, it’s okay…” He murmured into her hair as he cradled the back of her head in his hand and pressed kisses to her crown, his hold of her tightening when she pressed herself closer to him and grasped the back of his jacket in her hands. “I’m here, sweetheart, I promise, and I’m not going anywhere.”

His words succeeded in comforting her to an extent, he could tell by the way she allowed herself to relax slightly in his arms, and for the next few minutes he just sat there beside her and held her while she cried. When she began to calm down and her sobs lessened to faint hiccups, he rubbed her back through her sweater and angled his head so he could look her in the eye. “All of this could have been avoided if you’d thought about yourself for once and come to me, you know,” There was no judgement in his tone, only love and understanding, and he used his spare hand to brush her tears away as she nodded. “I adore you for caring about my feelings, but your feelings are important too.”

“I thought I would be able to handle it alone.” She admitted, sniffing through her tears.

“But you never should have felt as though you had to. I would have supported you.” He whispered.

“I know you would have,” She brushed her hand against his cheek. “We…we just never have time to talk anymore. I mean really talk.”

“Then, if this situation is anything to go by, we need to do a little better at making time,” He pointed out. “We need to make time to sit down and have a proper talk at least once a day, whether we’re working on a case or not. I take part of the blame for the effect this has had on you because I brushed off when you needed me the most and it was all because of work. Yeah, work means a lot to me and I like to keep on top of things, but I already allowed work to wreck one relationship and I refuse to let the same thing happen to us. You and the kids mean more to me than any of this and the three of you will always be my main priority. I don’t remind you of that enough though, I know, and I promise I’ll work on it. I should have been the first person to notice you haven’t been yourself. We live together, for crying out loud, so I have no idea how it never occurred to me you’ve been feeling so depressed. I am so, so sorry.”

Running a hand over his hair, she laid it on the back of his neck and pulled him into a long and soft kiss. “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. It’s anything but fine, but I promise I’m going to work on being more observant.” He assured her.

“And I’m going to work on being more selfish, though that’s something I never thought I’d say.” She laughed.

Shaking his head at her, he leaned in to catch her in another kiss once they had looked at each other in silence for a time, the hand that was on her back pulling her close when she wrapped her arms around his neck before he pulled back a couple of seconds later and turned in place to look at the clock on the opposite wall. “Wheels up. Are you…?”

“Yeah, I’m coming, but I’m not going out there looking like a circus clown,” She smirked. “Wait for me?”

“Sure, I’ll sort out my things.” He nodded.

Once he had pressed a kiss to her cheek, he rose from the couch and walked over to his desk before taking the file he had left there and putting it in his briefcase, his love for her deepening when he looked her way and watched her wipe around her eyes with a makeup wipe. She’d managed to clean herself up and apply a fresh coat of mascara by the time he had finished organizing his things, and she was the first to reach for his hand when he approached her again. “Ready to do this?” He asked her, entwining their fingers and giving her hand a small yet reassuring squeeze.

“As I’ll ever be.” She huffed.

Satisfied with her response, he opened the door and led her into the bullpen where the rest of the team was waiting for them at the foot of the stairs. He felt her tighten her hold of his hand on instinct while they walked down them, but he let her drop it when Garcia opened her arms to her before smiling when she walked over to her with a giggle and the technical analyst pulled her into the tightest hug. “You aren’t allowed to cry,” He heard Garcia say while she ran a hand over her hair and down her spine. “If you cry, you’re going to make me cry and then I’ll have to kill you.”

“I’m so sorry,” Emily sighed when she pulled back. “What I said in there, you didn’t deserve it and it had way more to do with me than it did with you.”

“Oh, I know,” Garcia said. “And you’re going to tell me everything the second you get back, do I make myself clear?”

“Yeah,” Emily beamed before pulling her into another hug and giving her a squeeze. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Garcia whispered. “So much.”

Emily took a step back from her when she heard Rossi clear his throat, knowing that he was hinting that it was time to head to the jet, and she felt a wave of calmness wash over her when Aaron took her hand and allowed his thumb to graze her knuckles as he led her through the bullpen. She stepped through ahead of him when he held open the door for her, but she took hold of his shirt before he could lead her to the elevator and rose onto her tiptoes to kiss him sweetly. “Not that I’m complaining,” He pulled her close by the waist once she had pulled back a little, their lips inches from each other’s as she leaned against him and felt him stroke circles onto her hip. “But what was that for?”

“Does there have to be a reason? Is it such a crime for me to want to kiss my boyfriend?” Her eyes sparkled.

“No, but I’m a trained profiler which means that I know there was definitely a reason behind that one.” He chuckled.

“Well then, trained profiler, surely you must know what the reason is.”

“You’re not even going to give me a hint?”

“Nope,” She shook her head as they walked over to the elevator together. “But you have plenty of time to work it out and I have no doubt that you will. No doubt at all…”

[itbe-jess]

Maslophobia: Chapter 8

Captured recorded audio of Karl Rodriguez having phone conversations with the formal Paradise Critter performers before their disappearances, including Karl’s himself.

Stevie: Yes?

Karl: STEVEN! How you do, how you do?

Stevie: Okay, who the hell is this?

Karl: What, you don't remember your old work buddy, Karl Rodriguez? Of Karl's Paradise?

Stevie: Oh, you. Just to state one fact: We aren't buddies. We just did work. The only time you've ever treated me like a friend was when I wore the freakin' dog costume. Second of all, what do you want?

Karl: Well, the REAL question is, what do YOU want?

Stevie: What do I want, what?

Karl: With your life, I mean. Have you ever considered getting into acting again? I just had the thought you were a man who looked into a brighter future.

Stevie: Well, I've been putting a lot of thought into it, continuing showbiz. What I want is more than just to hide my face behind some puppet costume. I wanna act. I also wanna write, and create.

Karl: That's interesting!

Stevie: But what I really wanna do is direct.

Karl: Oh! A little showbiz humor there!

Stevie: [*Chuckles*] Yeah. Say, Karl, I have another question.

Karl: Shoot.

Stevie: Why the fuck are you poking into my business like this?

Karl: Well, bet you haven't noticed, but I'm still doing work at Tam Studios!

Stevie: Great. How about telling me something I should care about?

Karl: No no no no, you don't understand, Stevie. I wanna help you pave your career way!

Stevie: What?

Karl: Help you find a new line of work! Tam is beginning the productions of an upcoming crime drama!

Stevie: Keep talking.

Karl: They're cast-calling for a slender, Caucasian man in his 20s, with flexible movement. I convinced them to put you up in that position, cuz I saw deep through those doggy eyes that you had potential. And it wasn't one of those non-speaking, background roles. No sir, this is supporting character we're talking.

Stevie: That's great! Hard to believe I've gone to a great start just by wearing a dog suit while somebody else dubbed over my lines! And if this role peaks, I could probably land myself in another rol- Hold it, hold it. Why do all this for me?

Karl: Well, I'm gonna let you in on a little secret. You have always been my favorite, Steven. The others did a fantastic job, but you knew how to bring life into a character.

Stevie: I am, aren't I? Well, I do hold a few charms, here and there. Knew they'd come into full effect soon.

Karl: So, do you take the job?

Stevie: Hell yeah I want the job! And I'd like to thank you for it!

Karl: No need for that! Just doing a favor for my favorite performer! Come over to my place for your script, and I'll explain the details to you over coffee.

Stevie: Make mine extra dark.

Karl: With pleasure!

_____________________

Karl: Hello, hello?

Debbie: Hello, who is- Karl? Karl, is that you?

Karl: In the flesh! But as of right now, in the voice. And while you're still listening to it, Happy Birthday!

Debbie: Awwwww, that's awfully generous. But my birthday isn't until two more days.

Karl: It is? Ooooooh, damn.

Debbie: What is it?

Karl: Seems I've over looked the calender. At least I didn't miss it yet.

Debbie: And it's a good thing you remembered what month it was, too.

Karl: Yeah. Still pretty embarrassing. I even got you a gift.

Debbie: You got me a gift?! Karl, that makes me... ...pleased as punch! Though you really didn't have to go through the troubl-

Karl: Oh no no no, I felt like it, since you are my favorite.

Debbie: Really? I didn't know that! I mean, the most you've ever talked to me was when I was Vinnie Van Goose, with the head on and all.

Karl: Well, the others are special, but if they knew you were my favorite, they would feel less important. You really knew how to bring life into a character more than they did.

Debbie: Oh wow. Though I feel bad for being the favorite. The others worked so hard.

Karl: What they don't know, won't hurt 'em! It's okay! Now, why don't you come over to my place and you can collect your gift? You can either take it to go, or eat it here.

Debbie: "Eat it?"

Karl: Hope you brought your sweet tooth.

Debbie: Oooooh la la, zat sounds deleecious, vahtre ahltesse. [*Chuckles*]

Karl: [*Chuckles back*]

Debbie: That was a really bad impression of the character I played.

Karl: I thought it was decent. So, you coming to get your gift, or what?

Debbie: Hell yeah, I'm going to get it! On one condition, though.

Karl: Hmm?

Debbie: Don't eat it all before I get there. [*Giggles*]

Karl: That's a promise I'm willing to keep! Don't worry! I won't even dip my finger into the frosting!

_____________________

Scott: Who is it?

Karl: That can only mean one thing: Do you recognize my voice?

Scott: K-Karl? Karl! Oh, Karl, you happy-go-lucky son of a bitch! [*Laughs*]

Karl: What, were you expecting someone else?

Scott: Ehhhh, either Mom, or someone I owe money to. [*Laughs*]

Karl: [*Laughs as well*]

Scott: You can't be my mother, sooooooo are you calling me up to pay some acting penalty fee?

Karl: There's just no end to your wisecracks, huh Scotty? Don't be ridiculous. You worked for me, so I'm the one who should be giving you money! Speaking of which, did I ever tell you that you were my favorite?

Scott: I am?

Karl: Sure! None of the other performers knew how to bring life into a character more than you!

Scott: Really? Well, to be honest, I didn't think there was anything special about my character.

Karl: You didn't think-- Look, Scott, he was one of my favorite Critters. When I was designing him, I put a little bit of myself into this character's traits. And to have a person make him animated was a happy experience.

Scott: Wow, Karl. That's...

Karl: Trouble finding the right word?

Scott: Yeah. Kinda. Just feels really neat to be appreciated. Even at a simple task.

Karl: Say no more, my friend! All you have to do is accept your award! No speech please.

Scott: Award? Okay, Karl, this is a little bit much.

Karl: Not really much. Just a bonus check.

Scott: Bonus check? I-I really can't accept this, Karl.

Karl: Please, I insist. You were my favorite Critter, and I wanna show my thanks for such effort you gave.

Scott: I'm not currently having any financial crisis, and I can't take money from you after how nice you've been. Couldn't you thank me in another way? Like, lunch, or dinner-

Karl: Actually, I'd be more than happy if you joined me for this afternoon's brunch, and we can catch up on times. Tomorrow. At my place.

Scott: If that will make you happy, I'll be there.

Karl: Delightful! I'll make sure brunch is still warm when you get here!

_____________________

Drew: Hello?

Karl: Drewwwww! Long time no see!

Drew: KARL! [*Sighs*] Thank God, you're the one to call!

Karl: Gosh, I really wasn't expecting that kind of reaction. You miss the show, too?

Drew: Well, no. Not that it was a bad show, or I hated doing the job! I mean, I loved playing Saxxo!

Karl: Well, Saxxo was my favorite! In fact, so were you! Nobody could bring so much life int-

Drew: Okay thanks I appreciate it Karl! Say, you wouldn't happen to know any positions opened at Tam, do you?

Karl: Tam is currently not looking for any actors at the moment.

Drew: Shhhhhhhh-shit!

Karl: Is everything alright?

Drew: Of course not. Rent's rising, and I have three more days until me and my wife lose the apartment! I just got to find a new job and pay off the rent! Need the money fast! I-I'll do anything!

Karl: Oh my. A debt situation. Does Mary know about it?

Drew: No. And I can't let her know.

Karl: Have you been gambling again?

Drew: [*Awkward silence, then takes a deep breath*] All I ever wanted to do was to treat her to the best romantic getaway in her young life! She thinks I don't pay more attention to her, and I've been less ardent ever since we got married. I love her so much, I really do. I felt like words aren't enough to express how much she means to me, so I thought, perhaps I could show her in another manner! Just wanted to earn a little extra cash, and look what a fine mess I've gotten us into! First it will be our place, next my fucking marriage! You're my only hope, Karl!

Karl: You have my sympathy, old friend. Believe it or not, when I was young, I used to do a bunch of crazy stuff to impress a girl. It's surprising how love can make anyone do anything. Tell you what: I'll give you this check for 100 grand. That way you can both pay off the rent, and give your woman the best dinner, plus a gift.

Drew: Gee. 100,000 dollars. That's a lot of lettuce.

Karl: I was gonna give you this anyways. It's my "Congratulations" gift for all your hard effort at Tam.

Drew: Thank you, Karl! God bless you! I swear I'll pay you back somehow!

Karl: You can pay me back now. ...at my place for some coffee, and we can catch up on our times. Always wanted to have a full conversation with my favorite Critter star.

Drew: Alright, I'll be there. Just as long as we're not getting a little too touchy. What time?

Karl: You can be here right now, if you like.

Drew: I'll go get the car keys!

Karl: Take it slow, Drew. You only live once.

_____________________

Karl: Howdy-do! Nice to hear from you!

Beatrice: Oh hey, Karl! Haven't heard from you since the show's cancellation. Which, by the way, I'm sorry for your loss.

Karl: Heyyyyyyy, no need for pitty. I'm over that now. I've become grateful that they continued to let me work at Tam Studios. Oh, and how far are you due now?

Beatrice: 3 months and 15 days. I made sure to keep track.

Karl: That's wonderful! You know, if Karl's Paradise ran a little longer, you could definitely hide your pregnancy with all that space in your costume.

Beatrice: That's true, though I don't think my doctor would recommend it. The suit is so hot, it's like a walking sauna. Whew! I get all sweaty just thinking of it.

Karl: A hun in the oven with a bun in its oven. That's one for the books. Listen, I've been thinking of you lately.

Beatrice: You know I'm married, Karl.

Karl: No no no no, not like that! I meant thinking about how good of a job you did playing Yum-Yum. You made her feel so warm, and loving. I knew during that one audition, you were her. You surely brought life into that character.

Beatrice: Okay, thanks, but doesn't her voice actress deserve some credit, too?

Karl: Shanna was spectacular, but I don't think she could take on such a physical role. How you handled Yum-Yum was what made you my favorite.

Beatrice: Me? Your favorite? Hah hah, I didn't know you thought that way of me. Though, you always appeared enthusiastic whenever I was in full costume.

Karl: That's how much you thrilled me! Seeing Yum-Yum become animated was a sensation to behold! We show creators take great pride in our works, you know.

Beatrice: Interesting. Well, see you next time, Karl.

Karl: Woah woah, wait! Take these words to mind before you hang up! Please?

Beatrice: Guess I can stay on hold for a little longer.

Karl: Great! Like I said before, I've been thinking of you lately. I know I didn't show much excitement when you first openly confessed about the baby. My favorite deserves better. So, I went out of my way to get the little tot a gift!

Beatrice: A gift? Aww, Karl, you shouldn't have. It's a little too early to start receiving gifts.

Karl: Oh, I insist! Besides, in three days, I'm off on a little business trip, and won't be back in a couple of months. So, I thought of giving you the gift now!

Beatrice: Oh, that's nice! Are you gonna drop it off here?

Karl: No, frankly, I don't know where your location is. I was wondering if you could come by my place and pick it up. You still have the address I gave you and the other performers, right?

Beatrice: Yeah, but... I'm not sure if I wanna go. I've never been to your place before, and I find it weird to come over to another house just to pick up a measely present.

Karl: C'mon, Beatrice. I'm no stranger to you. Besides, I just baked cookies.

Beatrice: Cookies?

Karl: Your favorite. Chocolate chip, soft, and with ooey melty chocolatey goodness.

Beatrice: [*Short silence*] Okay, you win! That's an offer I can't refuse! I'll just have a quick trip, grab a couple of cookies, take the present, and leave!

Karl: Atta girl! I'll get a doggy bag ready!

Beatrice: Don't try to make a pass at me!

Karl: Wouldn't dream of it, Yum-Yum.

_____________________

Clifton: Karl, what the hell is this?

Karl: Cliff! I see you got my message!

Clifton: Yes, and whatever it is, I want no part of it.

Karl: Jesus, why the bitterness?

Clifton: Not only did the Karl's Paradise experience left me humiliated, but it also hurt me seeing my daughter get terrified of a character I played. The show gave her nightmares twice!

Karl: Ooooh, I'm sorry to hear that. But if it makes you feel better, this isn't about the show. It's about a whole new start.

Clifton: Baby, n-not now. Please. Daddy over here busy.

Karl: Pardon?

Clifton: Oh, I wasn't talking to you! I was talking to Beth. You know, my daughter? And what is this "whole new start?"

Karl: I'd like to propose a new proposition. It pays more than your previous gig.

Clifton: "Pays more." Is it another acting pursuit?

Karl: Why yes! Tam is starting the production of a new crime drama, and they're cast-calling for a black-American male, with a tone body, and flexible movement.

Clifton: They're looking for a black man in a program about crimes? Pfftt, I certainly don't like the sound of that.

Karl: Oh no, it's not what you think! I mean they want someone to play one of the lead heroes! I talked to them about giving it to you. Don't you wanna take a step further into your acting goal?

Clifton: Well... Yeah, and it all sounds really great! But I don't think I'm ready to hit that road yet.

Karl: Huh?

Clifton: Well, the crime drama thing seems a little bit... How should I put it? ...complex. Right now, my acting experience is limited. All I did on Karl's Paradise was put on a suit, move around, and grab things. I didn't even get to speak my own voice. Literally. I think I should take it slow for the time being. Tell them I'm gonna have to pass up.

Karl: C'mon, Cliff! Never say die unless you try! This job will mark the beginning of your big break!

Clifton: I don't know-

Karl: With all that money, you could provide your family all what they deserve! You've always talked about how they mean the world to you! Your wife will always be happy, your mother will live more healthy, and your daughter could be enrolled with the best educational systems! You could even buy a bigger house! If you feel you're not ready, we could have training lessons over at my place! I even got a copy of the script!

Clifton: Why does it matter so much to you whether I get the role or not?

Karl: I kept this between myself and I for very long, and I think I ought to let it out now: You have always been my favorite, Cliff. The character, in which you portrayed, was very important to me. When I first designed that character, I projected some of my attributes onto him. Then, you had put on the suit and made him animated. I knew you'd be the one. He was exactly how I pictured him in my head.

Clifton: Well, I would admit I did do a good job, but I wouldn't call it a stellar performance.

Karl: Don't beat on yourself, Cliff! In my opinion, it WAS a stellar performance! And dare I add, you are a family man, right? I'm a sucker for families! Especially children! That's why I gotten into children's entertainment! To make them glow in happiness!

Clifton: [*Inaudible mumbles*]

Karl: What was that?

Clifton: I, I said, I guess I can give it a shot. The money would do me and my family good. The bills need to be paid, and Beth has been twitterpated for an Easy Bake Oven.

Karl: Great! Come visit whenever you're available! I'll put on a fresh pot of coffee!

Clifton: Tomorrow. I'll let my wife know.

Karl: Oh, no no! Cliff, we don't wanna ruin the surprise!

Clifton: Man, if I just sneaked to some place without telling Janet, she'll get the expression that I'm seeing another woman!

Karl: Don't worry! If she gets suspicious, I'll cover for you! It's all in my hands! Trust me!

Clifton: Alright. But one more thing: If I don't nail this role, do not pester me over a new career ever again.

Karl: Cross my heart and hope to die!

_____________________

Karl: Hello, Rebecca!

Rebecca: Oh my god- Karl! You have every nerve calling me up! You of all people!

Karl: I know! Did you miss me?

Rebecca: Like I miss a kidney stone! Good-fucking-bye!

Karl: Wait, don't hang up!

Rebecca: If you're calling me because your show's been picked up again, no use talking me into it! I've never been so embarrassed in my life! My friends still won't let me live it down, and my brother-in-law keeps making long distant calls just to tease me about the damn shark! And I couldn't stand looking at those costumes, even my own! What the hell were you thinking?

Karl: I just thought you suited the role so much. The way you brought life into the character really made you my favorite!

Rebecca: I don't care, and I was talking about those costumes! How could you not see how terrifying they were? You gave a goose teeth! A goose with teeth!

Karl: They're not that bad! Just wanted to give them a little cartoony-ness in their appearances!

Rebecca: Karl, they made kids cry! They're THAT bad! It's like they came from Sesame Street Reject Hell!

Karl: [*A moment of silence, then, angry breathing is heard*]

Rebecca: You still there?

Karl: Yes. I'm still here. The reason I called was to ask you a favor regarding the show. Also, it's still pulled off the air. I'm making a biography based on experience working on Karl's Paradise. I interview you, and you give me all your views on the show, whether they are positive, or negative.

Rebecca: Forget it. Now if you excuse me, I have to hunt a new job. One where I possibly don't have to show my face.

Karl: I'll pay you!

Rebecca: What?

Karl: The exact same amount as your salary from Tam! Please! Just come to my place, answer a few questions, and you'll never see my face again!

Rebecca: [*Sighs*] You're a sad man, Karl. Alright, I'll do it. Throw in a couple of snacks, with some iced tea, and you have yourself a deal.

Karl: Lucky for you, I always bring out the refreshments to guests!

_____________________

Sam: Who is it?

Karl: Double-K, that's who. [*Giggles*]

Sam: Oh, hi Karl! Didn't think you'd call me all of a sudden. Are you still down over the show's cancelization?

Karl: Nahhhh. That's all in the past now. I'm working on a new project at Tam, and it's far better than my last one.

Sam: Ohhhh. Glad to hear that you've moved on. I must say: Although Kar- [*Sneezes*] Excuse me...

Karl: No, bless you!

Sam: Thanks. As I was saying; Although Karl's Paradise wasn't the best experience I ever had, it sure was a fun one. I actually started to take a liking to Mama LongLegs.

Karl: Yeah, you were always cut out for her. When you showed up for that audition back in '88, and you first put on that suit, that was the day my Mama LongLegs was discovered. You nailed every aspect of her character, minus the voice.

Sam: And you know something funny? I didn't think I'd get the role with my height and all. Mama LongLegs could've been given to any one of those women under 5'8. Nice of you to care more about personalities than looks.

Karl: Wise Miss you are. That's why you've always been my favorite.

Sam: I am? Oh gosh, I don't know what to say...

Karl: How 'bout "yes?"

Sam: Excuse me?

Karl: I mean, how's about coming over to my house for a couple of photoshoots? ...in costume? The other cast is involved as well. Even though the show is cancelled, they're still giving me the right to merchandise it. All I need right now is your approval.

Sam: Oh. Well, sounds fun!

Karl: It sure is! I'll even put on a fresh pot of coffee!

Sam: I'll be there! Also, [*Jokingly tone*] for this photoshoot, I won't be taking anything off, will I?

Karl: I'm not that kind of man! Don't worry, you'll be fully covered! You're just wearing the costume, and that's it.

_____________________

Leon: What's up? I don't really care who you are. Just get down to the skinny. Blah blah blah blah.

Karl: Leon, it's me.

Leon: You're gonna have to be more specific. I don't know any "Me's."

Karl: Karl Rodriguez! Don't you remember?

Leon: Ohhhh yeaaah, the Karl's Paradise man. What's the big idea giving me this ring while the show is cancelled?

Karl: Well, to clarify-

Leon: Even if it's not, I don't think I wanna come back anytime soon. Like, that whole show, I don't mean to hurt your feelings, is kinda bogus.

Karl: I know, but-

Leon: Man... I wouldn't have stayed if it weren't for the money. And the free Dunkin' every morning. As for those costumes... wayyyyyy fucking creepy to the max. They'd make great props for a halloween haunted house, though. Wish I could've took mine with me.

Karl: Are you finished?

Leon: Shoot.

Karl: *Ahem* As I was saying; what you just mentioned is exactly what I called for!

Leon: You're gonna pay me? You're gonna buy me Dunkin'?

Karl: No, but how would you like to take your costume home with you? You can scare the shit out of kids every halloween, as much as you want!

Leon: Ehhhh, it isn't money or greasy donuts, but it'll do. I'll take it. Alright, when are you gonna deliver it to me?

Karl: Ha ha ha ha. No, you have to come down to my place and pick it up. Because, frankly, I never did get your address.

Leon: Whatt... No way. I am not getting off my ass, driving a mile block, just to pick up a damn costume. Forget it. The thing would probably eat my soul while I'm sleeping anyways.

Karl: There's Dunkin' in it for you! Along with an iced coffee.

Leon: Dammit, Karl. You know my weakness too well. I'll get my keys.

Karl: That's the spirit! Hey, did I mention you were always my favorite?

[alkhale]

Crazy (Hausen/Reader) Ko-fi Request

Hi! Im back with a lot of commission for you. I looked at your old post to see the animes that you could know and surprised you have already seen Gangsta. So I would like to know if I can get an Doug x reader or Hausen x reader (or any character of your choice :)).

I love and miss Gangsta so much, hoping for more chapters and episode to eventual come ;-; Here you go!

(Crazy)

Fandom: Gangsta

Pairing: Hausen/Reader

His boots hit the floor in an even clack clack clack. The military issued steel resounding his foremost intent with thunderous arrival.

Several of the guild members glanced up, some half roused from an evening snooze, others just filing back in from a scouting mission or watch, all of them congregated in one of the main room areas. A few veterans watched the hard set of Hausen’s jaw, skittering off to stay out of the Twilight’s way. They quickly tugged wooden chairs back, sneaking off behind tables and ducking down to the counters. Others glanced to the rugged, muscled outline of his shoulders and back and glanced to each other, whispering guesses on who’d be on the receiving end of his obvious malintent.

“Someone really messed up today, didn’t they?”

“Aw, who fucked up?”

“‘s not me man! I ain’t even on schedule.”

One man shouldered his partner, motioning roughly with his chin. The others all looked, stopping at the sight of the crumpled, brightly colored object in Hausen’s left hand.

The dirty blonde ignored the chatter, camo jacket tied snug around the set of his waist. Hausen swept icy blue eyes once across the room, squinting as though in search of something before he scowled, continuing onwards.

The guild members winced when he kicked the door clean open, stepping into the hallway. It slammed shut behind him.

“Aw, shit.”

“Yeesh.”

“Everyone stand clear, this one’s gonna get messy.”

A few bills were tossed into the center of the table. Heads turned, glancing over.

“Sir’s gonna beat their asses.”

“Naw, Ginger’s gonna stop ‘em before anythin’ happens.”

“They break up!”

“Bet!”

Hausen dragged a hand down his face, lips pulled down into a half-irritated scowl at the words flinging from the door. I can hear you, you dumbasses. He’d have them running laps or cleaning out the temporary Twilight housing facilities later.

Hausen had more important business to see to.

He gripped the object in his hand with renewed vigor, storming his way down the hall with purpose. His military Twilight tags clanked around his neck, clinking together alongside with one that didn’t match his own set. A few rungs of doors were open on the way down to the medical wing, Arthur and Lancelot peeking their heads out from where they’d been fooling around in a slumbering Gawain’s room.

“Hey, Hausen!” Arthur greeted cheerfully. Hausen offered him a quick wave. Lancelot peeked out from right beneath his friend, fixing his goggles. 

“Who’re the flowers for?”

Hausen’s scowl deepened. In his hand was a crumpled bouquet, the pretty pink paper wrapping crinkling under the force of his grip. The stems inside threatened to snap, wheezing at the onslaught while the bright, full sunflowers bobbed unsteadily.

A vein throbbed against the side of Hausen’s head. Arthur pressed a hand down over Lancelot’s head, ponytail bobbing. “Did you hear? (Y/n)’s back—”

Both Arthur and Lancelot stopped, blinking at Hausen’s almost constipated expression.

Gawain snorted from his bunk bed, arms tucked under the soft tufts of his pinkish hair. He kept his eyes closed, legs kicked over the restboard.

“I,” Hausen grunted. “Heard.”

He nodded gruffly to them, marching down the hall, dog tags swaying. Arthur and Lancelot blinked once at his back, blinking again when they looked at each other.

“What’s got him in such a bad move?”

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Gawain yawned. “Go take a nap or something.”

“Gawain, you’re always sleeping.”

Hausen finally drew his boots to a rough halt just before the medical wing’s doors. There was a bit of chatter on the other side, a few of the Twilights on shift working to organize or help out anyone still injured. Hausen waited a minute longer, fingers rolling over the top of the rusted brass knob. The flowers sagged at his side, no longer brimming with the usual energy sunflowers were supposed to.

Hausen rubbed the back of his head, ruffling the short cropped tufts of blonde hair with an aggravated sigh. Did you have to make things so difficult? 

He heard your soft voice, muffled through the door. Hausen heaved a rough sigh, masking it as a grunt as he pushed the door open, hefting the flowers over his shoulder.

The door opened with a little more noise than necessary to announce his arrival. A few of the guild members glanced up, blinking at first in surprise before their expressions dawned in understanding. They became pale, sweat rolling down the sides of their cheeks as they looked first to Hausen’s hulking frame in the door and then quickly to you.

Hausen only had eyes for you.

You were sitting up in the dingy medical bed, another Twilight sitting in the chair beside you with a medical chart. Your hair was pulled back, revealing the scarred, toned column of your neck to Hausen. Patches of open skin between the mottled scars he’d leave trails of kisses and lingering bites when you were a little more willing than usual.

You had a knee propped up onto the bed, the other dangling, wrapped up thickly in a cast. Fractured. He’d already heard the news. Mounds of bandages were wrapped up your arms, a hefty patch of gauze peeking from under the loose white t-shirt you’d shrugged on to hide the brunt of the beating you took from the last mission call. Another set of bandages were patched over your cheek, making you look a little ridiculous.

Dog tags dangled from the thin chain around your neck. Your own Twilight markings coupled with a tag that didn’t match the other one.

Hausen gripped the flowers. The stems snapped inside the paper wrapping.

He waited for you to make the first move, watching in growingly irritated silence as you dully glanced up, expression neutral. You took in his entire appearance, black tank top and camo attire and crumpled flowers, expression never once wavering.

You snorted, looking back down.

Hausen felt a vein pop.

“We’re just gonna,” one guild member started, gesturing vaguely to the door. Hausen stepped aside, nodding. “Go now. Yeah, we’re gonna go now.”

They scrambled out of the room, leaving the two of you to your own privacy.

Hausen flexed his fingers, curling them tightly into a fist before he cocked his head back. He set a hand down on his hip, fixing you with all the you-better-start-talking-right-now he could muster.

You said nothing, browsing through a crumpled magazine in your lap.

“What the hell is your problem?” Hausen exclaimed, throwing his hands and the flowers into the air. You rolled your eyes. “Why are you like this? You’re always like this! Ya like bein’ difficult? You drive me nuts!”

You flipped a page.

“I told you not to take that hire,” Hausen started, pacing around the room as he shook his finger. His heavy steps made the table shake and you kicked your good foot out to stop the empty vase from toppling over. “I told you. But do you listen? No. You never listen. I said don’t do it!”

You said nothing, flipping another page.

“I rank fucking higher than you but you don’t even care!” Hausen snapped. “What’s the point of bein’ your superior if I don’t even get any respect?”

“You,” you said finally. Your hoarse voice was music to his ears, tearing Hausen up over whether he should just take you up in your arms and spend the time doing something else instead of giving you the tongue lashing he’d been rehearsing this whole time. “Told me not to go as Hausen. Not as my superior.”

Hausen went rigid, setting his jaw. You flashed him a defiant look. “‘s that wrong?”

“That’s not the point.”

“‘s totally the point,” you muttered. “Paulkee said it was mine if I wanted it. I wanted it.”

“Then you should’ve asked me to come with you.”

“Ya got other stuff to do,” you said. “And I managed.”

“You look like they threw you through a fucking roof.”

“‘s a balcony, but close enough.”

Hausen growled. You rolled your eyes, turning to face him, expression neutral despite his rippling frustration. You were used to this after all. For all his bravado and cool when it came down to it, Hausen was always the kind of guy to get worked up over the things that needed it less.

Cause he’s a good guy. 

“Going anyway without telling me was one thing,” Hausen said, marching right over to you. The sunflowers bobbed and you shot them a pitiful look. “Ya spit on my boots with that one. But comin’ back and not saying a thing? Ya might as well punch me in the face! What’re you trying to say?”

Hausen stopped, flashing you a dangerous look. He narrowed his eyes, pointing a rigid finger at you. “If this is your own dumbass idea of trying to leave me hanging—”

“Ya sayin’ I can’t break up with ya if I wanted to?”

“You bet your fucking ass I am.”

“Well, I’m not. I’m tired,” you said flatly. “I didn’t want to hear you yell at me like ya are now.”

Hausen made choking motions for your throat. You leaned back, gingerly adjusting your casted foot. “Why do I even put up with you? Sir’s got a better chance of kicking your fucking ass than I do!”

“‘s somethin’ only you can answer,” you said nimbly. Hausen threw his hands back into his hair. You watched him, eyes traveling all over, checking for new wounds, for new scars. When you found none you let your shoulders rest, feeling the fatigue come crawling back.

“Took that stupid mission, never listen to me when I got something to say, dumbass always doing whatever the hell ya want and—”

“I missed ya.”

Hausen stopped. His jaw worked, entire body shifting as he swung his head back to you. Your face was soft, eyes sleepy as you looked up at him. Your taped fingers lightly thumbed your tags, pinching the one that wasn’t yours.

The one that matched with his other missing one, coupled next to your own swinging round his neck.

Hausen narrowed his eyes, watching you suspiciously. His eyes darted once to your fingers, watching you play with the tags.

You could see the moment you’d won him again. The moment he went a little soft, a little proud of his name swinging against the metal next to yours. A shitty, simple little thing that couldn’t compare to what people better off could have for each other—but for you at least, you’d want nothing else.

Hausen really was too good for you. 

“Missed you,” you said again, looking up at him. You opened your arms, the single invitation. Hausen went stiff. “Lots. ‘m sorry.”

A low, tight, aggravated sigh was exhaled through his nose. Hausen rubbed his temples once, shaking his head as though to berate himself before he tossed the poor, crumpled flowers off the side. They smashed into the empty vase, nearly knocking it over as he marched right over to you. 

Your lips already started to turn up into a grin, knowing one of the strongest Twilight’s of the Paulkee Guild was still too good of a man to stay mad when all he wanted was—

Hausen’s body fell over yours in an instant. He gingerly lifted your injured leg, long, calloused fingers moving against your thigh with ease and setting it up behind him onto one of the chairs. He came forward, one arm moving around your waist, holding you there and holding you tight as he surged forward to claim your lips, his other hand coming around and cradling the back of your neck to hold you steady so you wouldn’t try anything funny.

“I don’t even know why I put up with you,” he breathed against your lips, warm and firm and here, here, here right against you. You closed your eyes, fingers dancing over his arms before he grunted and you slid them around his neck. “You drive me nuts.”

“You’re the one who came for me,” you said. Hausen grunted again. Your lips quirked. “You’re too good for me, Hau. You outta run before I ruin you.”

“Yeah,” Hausen said, low, voice thick. He pressed you back into the creaky, cheap medical med, the familiar smells of this place you called home and this man you let hold you, over anyone or anything else in this shitty world. Hausen smoothed his fingers down your cheek, drinking in every last piece of you. “I really should.”

His dog tags clinked against yours, resting over your collarbone as they slid together. 

You simply smiled, shaking your head in pity for the poor Twilight as he slotted his lips over yours, working with all his energy and muscles to snatch your breath away and remind you why you should do nothing else but stay beside him too, remind you why there should be no one else but him for you, the way you were the only one for him.

The way it should be, for as long as you two had in this shitty world.

(Hope you enjoyed! Thank you for your support!)

[champhangman]

Bleed Into the Night

Title: Bleed Into the Night Part: Six / ? Characters: Hangman Adam Page x OFC Summary: She wasn’t looking. Neither was he. For a brief flash, they found each other. Word Count: 8,701 Warnings: Explicit sexual descriptions, blood (not from the sex), fighting (not in the sex) Previous: Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five |  A/N: :)  

Tagging:  @adampage​ / @cowboyshit​ / @baylynch/ @lilmisswhiskeygypsy /  @bigpixiefoot / @mindofasagittaruis​ / @kalliravenne​ / @sadlittlecountess​ / @baronsbelleevangeline / @brie-mode-activated / @xbreezymeadowsx​ / @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch​ / @allizoneme​ / @heelsamizayn​ / @what-does-mine-say​ / @waywardwrestlewritingwaif / @drewshoneybadger  / @mysteryoflovve / @knnyomega / @rampagewriting (I HOPE I got everyone)

Six

Serena had stunned him with her question, but Adam recovered in what he thought was record time. He was glad he hadn't been eating or drinking when she'd said the words, or he'd have been choking. Trying his best to ignore the way his cock had hardened at her suggestion, he sucked in a breath. "You mean that?"

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't." She looked away, and he hated the way her lips turned downward. "If you don't want—"

He grabbed her arm and hauled her to him, cutting off the rest of her statement. Arm locking around her waist once she was close enough, he brought his other hand to her chin and gently turned her head so he could look into her eyes. "Oh, I want," he whispered. "I've wanted for weeks, baby."

"Really?"

"Ever since the first time you called me a good boy," he admitted.

Her smile was brighter than the sunshine filtering through the rippling branches of the tree. "That turns you on, huh?"

"One of 'em."

"What else turns you on?"

Her smile. Her lips. Her fingers dancing on his thighs. Her thighs. The way she said his name. "You."

"Adam," she sighed, rolling her eyes.

"Shut up, it's true," he murmured.

"Adam," she said again, her hands slipping up to his shoulders.

"Serena."

"Kiss me?"

He almost crashed against her mouth as he'd been longing to do for weeks. But he remembered that he wanted to do it right. She deserved the best kiss he had to offer. He released her chin and lightly cupped her cheek then slowly brought his lips to hers. He intended it to be gentle, to draw out every movement, but touching her lips started a fire in his veins.

Her lips were delicious. He'd known they would be. Had fantasized how they would taste thousands of times. He kissed her as though he were drowning, and she was oxygen. It made him drunk, drunker than any amount of alcohol ever could. His hands shook as he held her. He was glad they weren’t standing, because he knew his legs wouldn't have been able to keep him upright. His head was reeling. His pulse was racing. His body burned with longing and need and during the eternity he spent kissing her she held onto him. Like she was drowning, too.

He wanted to taste her everywhere. Needed to find out for sure that every inch of her was as delicious as her lips. Shifting, he moaned when her fingers slid into his hair. He focused on memorizing the flavor of the cookies on her tongue. Felt his hair loosen. Felt her tug at it and whined, guiding her down.

"Was gonna take this slow," he mumbled between kisses, drawing them out so he could attempt to catch his breath. He trailed his lips down the side of her neck, enjoying the little gasps she made.

"This is slow," she pointed out in a whisper. Her hands were still in his hair, fingers flexing, and it occurred to him that he loved it. When, usually, he hated for people to mess with his hair. Her fingers sank deeper into the curls until he could feel her nails lightly digging into his scalp and he moaned against her throat. Felt her tremble beneath him.

Lifting his head, he propped one hand on the blanket next to her shoulder. Her lips were swollen. Her amber eyes had darkened and glittered with flecks of sunlight. With each gasp of breath he could feel her chest push against his. Searching her eyes for any hint of hesitation, he sighed with relief when he found none and dipped his head for another kiss.

She was heavenly beneath him. Soft, plush, warm. The thighs he'd dreamed about late at night wrapped around him and he growled, nipping at her lips, then dragged his hands to the hem of her tank top. She giggled into his mouth when his fingers trailed up her sides, and he sighed with regret as she was forced to pull her hands from his hair so he could pull the top over her head. Leaning back slightly, he snatched his shirt off as well, sucking in a breath as the movement caused his hips to nestle deeper between her thighs.

He could feel the heat of her, and his hips gave an instinctive roll. Her little moan caused his cock to jerk. Her fingers brushed down his chest, swept over his abdomen. He gulped for air when she lightly dug her nails into the soft layer of fat over his abdomen and met her eyes again.

"I like this," she said, biting her lip. "You're such a gorgeous man, I like that you're not too perfect, y'know? And I know you get a little insecure about it…"

She did? How?

"But I love it."

The words were pure exhilaration rippling throughout him. "You do, huh?"

"I really do," she murmured, flattening her palms over his abdomen. "Makes you soft and cuddly. Especially this week when you've held me every night."

"You know what, Dimples?" he asked, leaning down for yet another kiss.

"Yeah, Cowboy?" she whispered.

"I like soft and cuddly, too."

"I got plenty of that," she murmured. But there was no self-deprecation. Just…

Happiness, he decided, sinking into her as their lips and tongues melded again. She was happy. And even though there was a tiny voice in the back of his mind saying it wasn't because of him, he liked to think it was. Not all of it. But maybe a little. Breaking the kiss on a gasp, he resolved to do everything he could to keep making her happy.

"Adam…"

"I wanna taste you," he said by way of explanation, inching his way down to her chest. Her breasts were still confined in her bra. Brushing kisses over the tops until she was gasping, he hooked his fingers in the soft purple lace and dragged it down, lips closing around her nipple. Her whines and moans were music to his ears as he suckled and licked and nibbled, fingers pinching and rolling and pulling the other nipple. He made sure to switch, to give both delicious parts of her body the same amount of attention.

God, but he didn't want to move from between her thighs. Didn't want to pull away from the heat pressed tight against his cock. He rolled his hips, pushing tighter, and would have sworn he could feel her growing damp. Her fingers were in his hair again, tugging, but ignored the pull and leaned back, hands reaching almost frantically to remove her shorts. She gave a little squeal of surprise and he froze, fearing he'd gone too far.

"Okay?" he asked, hands splayed at her hips.

"We're outside," she hissed.

Adam blinked and slowly looked around. The sweeping branches of the willow concealed them. He could just see the rest of the lawn through the leaves. He knew that on either side of the lawn was a line of towering trees that blocked out any possible nosy neighbors. Looking down at her, he drew in a deep breath. "You wanna go inside? Can't nobody see us."

She licked her lips and he was briefly distracted, wondering how her tongue would feel on his body. Then she spoke and he had to hurry to catch up to what she was saying. "…Tony doesn't have cameras in the trees?"

His brain, foggy with lust, spun to comprehend the full question, then spun harder to remember what Tony had told him about security. The alarms, the security lights. And… "No. Just a camera on each door of the house and the one at the end of the driveway."

Serena swallowed. He watched her throat work, this time imagining it work to swallow him. "Okay."

He eased his grip on her hips and began tugging at her shorts. His eyes didn't know what to look at. Her eyes, which were even darker with passion. Her lips, swollen and damp. Her breasts, swelling with each breath. Her nipples, tight little peaks. She reached down and there was a delicious tangle as she wriggled to help him rid her of the shorts. Before he could even get a glimpse between her thighs, though, she was tugging at his shorts and he enjoyed that tangle, too, hands clapping over her thighs when she jerked his boxer briefs down and cupped her hand around his cock.

"I ain't finished tasting you," he protested, even as he shivered and moaned at her touch.

"What?" she asked, blinking up at him in surprise.

He leaned down, hissing as his dick slid between her thighs. Her pussy was wet. He shifted his hips, moaning into her mouth as her hand guided his cock to rest at her slit. "You think we're gonna go this far without me eating your pussy?" he asked, forcing his hips back.

"I figured so, since no one else has ever done it," she said.

Adam froze. Lifted his head slightly so he could look into her eyes. "What?"

"No one's ever gone down on me," she murmured, cheeks darkening.

"Are you fucking – Are you kidding me?"

"Yeah, like I'd lie about that," she muttered. She gave her head a shake. "It's not a big deal, Adam—"

"The fuck it ain't. You're telling me you're…" He paused. "How old are you?"

She snorted on a laugh. "Twenty-four."

"You're twenty-four years old and never got eaten?" A thought occurred to him and he cleared his throat. Somehow managed to keep his tone soft for his next question. "Are you a virgin?"

"No. I've done a lot of things, but…" She shrugged. "Never had a man that wanted to."

"You've got one now," he promised, dipping to give her a quick kiss.

"You don't have to—"

"Yes I do."

"No, really, you don't. I know most men hate—"

"Please don't tell me about other men you've been with that refused to go down on you," he groaned. He didn't like thinking of her being intimate with others. Hated the thought that she'd done a lot of things – he made a mental note to ask her about those things later – but no man had seen fit to give her ultimate pleasure.

"Sorry," she said faintly. Then she huffed. "You're not gonna tell me about all the women you've been with that you've gone down on, are you?"

"No." He rained kisses down her chest. Made sure to press tender kisses to her stomach, to the softness he knew was one of her bigger insecurities. And over her hip. He licked his lips as the scent of her arousal filled his senses. "They don't matter, okay? Just us."

"Just us," she echoed, and he heard the smile in her voice. Her hands slipped down, covering his and giving a quick squeeze.

***

Serena dragged in a shaky breath and forced her body to relax while his hands guided her thighs apart. It was ridiculous that she was so nervous about him going down on her. Just because he was the first man to ever do it didn't mean she had to be all anxious and jittery. She wasn't a virgin, for crying out loud. And yet, beneath his gentle but firm fingers, she felt like one. It was as though no other man had mattered.

Maybe they hadn't, she thought, shivering when his breath fanned across her inner thighs. Then it was between them, coursing over her.

"Fuck," she gasped as a finger glided along her slit. His hand slid to her thigh and she bit her lip in anticipation, another gasp sucking from her lungs at the first touch of his tongue.

He wasn't hesitant. His tongue moved in broad, smooth strokes. She felt her pussy clench, heard a soft moan from him. She'd been grasping the blanket but let it go, needing to feel him, to touch him, and sank her fingers into his unruly curls. He pushed her thighs further apart, his tongue still flat against her slit. Above her gasping she could hear him slurping and moaned, head falling back, as the tip of his tongue began to probe.

She lost track of time while he seemed focused on consuming her. His tongue worked steadily, alternately working in steady licks and rapid flicks. It circled her clit then dipped down, slipping inside her, sucking noisily. Each time her pussy flooded his tongue was there to catch it and he was moaning appreciatively, as though she were some decadent dessert meant to be savored. She felt overheated, felt beads of perspiration on her skin, felt the tightening heat in the pit of her belly that she recognized.

"Adam," she whined, tightening her hold on his hair.

His tongue glided upward, circling her clit before fluttering over it. When her thighs began to squeeze he held them down, fingers digging into her flesh, and she released a soft cry as the heat spiraled tighter. He gave her clit a hard suck, his deep moan sending shockwaves through her, and when she began to writhe he dipped to press his tongue at her entrance. She wasn't sure what was louder, her whines and moans or the sounds of him slurping down every drop. When his tongue plunged inside and curled, seeking, she arched, shrieking. Pleasure ripped through her, stunning her into silence with its intensity.

She pushed at his head, sobbing, whimpering with relief when his mouth released her. Panting, trembling, she could only hold onto his hair, whining with each delicate lick he gave her pussy. And when his lips pressed to her hip she released a shuddering breath.

"Oh my god," she gasped, pulling her shaking fingers free of his hair. Bringing her hands up to her face, she was surprised to feel the wet of tears and pressed her palms over her eyes, another ripple of delight rolling through her as Adam guided her legs from over his shoulders.

"You're okay," he whispered, lying over her. He gently pulled her hands from her face. Guided her arms around him. "Serena, baby, look at me."

She did, breath stuttering at the intensity in his blue-green eyes. His neat beard glistened slightly in the light and she sucked in a breath. "Adam…"

"Shh," he soothed, hands softly cupping her cheeks. "Breathe, Dimples."

"I'm trying," she promised with a shaky laugh. She felt too weak to hold onto him but curled her fingers into his back. "That was… Jesus, Adam…"

"I know," he murmured. He stayed over her, not shying away when she tipped her head for a kiss while faint tremors still rippled through her body.

She enjoyed the taste of herself mingled with the taste of him and sighed, languid, pressing her face into he crook of his neck. Listened to his soft, reassuring words. Heard the whisper of the breeze through the branches around them. Enjoyed the weight and feel of him over her while her body calmed.

He shifted so he lay next to her, propping up on one elbow so he could look down at her. "You need anything?"

She shook her head. "Just give me a few minutes, okay?"

He chuckled. "Take all the time you need, baby."

Slowly, she rolled onto her side so she faced him, sighing as hand gently massaged her shoulder and arm. He stroked her side. Her hip. Her thigh. He guided her close to him, palm and fingers kneading her back. His touch was soothing, relaxing. Loving. The thought made her smile. She wasn't quite sure if it was just her post-orgasm glow or not, but she had the sudden inkling that she was starting to fall for him.

Sex with him would mean something. And she wasn't sure she was ready for that. She didn't know if she could handle that something just yet. She didn't know for sure that it would mean the same thing to him. And if it didn't, she wasn't sure she could handle that it meant something to her and not to him. Because she would know as soon as they finished if he felt the same something she did or not.

"You having second thoughts?" he asked softly, and she wondered when he'd gotten so good at reading her.

"No…"

"You're a shitty liar, Dimples."

"I just—" She scowled. "I'm not lying."

"You just what?" he murmured.

"I don't want to come across as some selfish bitch. Like, hey, I came, tough luck for you, you know?" Frowning, she shivered when his fingertips trailed from her shoulder to her elbow. "But this isn't really baby steps, is it?"

"It's okay," he said, smiling faintly. "I can get myself off."

She'd like to see that. She wanted to see how he touched himself. Wanted to know if he was slow or gentle or hard or fast. Then, suddenly, she didn't. She wanted to do it for him. "I'll get you off, Cowboy."

"Dimples—"

"You ate my pussy like a starving man, the least I can do is give you a hand in return." She sat up, licking her lips. "Or my mouth, if you prefer."

"Jesus," he muttered, closing his eyes briefly. "I ain't gonna complain either way."

"Lay back," she said, gathering her hair into a ponytail. Her scalp was damp with sweat. Her whole body was. Watching him stretch out on the blanket, she couldn't help the way her lips curved into a smile. "Good boy."

"Why do I feel like you're gonna say that every time you want me to do something?" he asked, pulling his hair back with a groan.

"Wouldn't I say it after you do something I want you to?" she countered, letting her eyes sweep along his body. It wasn't fair, she thought, that he was beautiful and had a great physique. It wasn't fair that his arms and thighs were thick and his hair shone and his eyes glittered. It wasn't fair that, even after weeks of seeing him, she wasn't accustomed to his good looks. And she wondered if the Greek and Roman gods and goddesses hadn't been ethereal figures, but instead had been men and women too stunning for normal looking people to believe. If that were so, she would understand completely, because even before he'd given her an orgasm she'd had difficulty believing he was as magnificent as he was.

"Dimples?"

"Yeah?" she sighed, watching the mottled sunlight dance across his chest.

"Thought I lost you there for a minute."

"No, no, I'm still here," she promised. "Just thinking how beautiful you are."

He grinned. Shook his head. "Stop stroking my ego, ma'am."

"And start stroking something else?" she teased, fastening the band to hold her ponytail and moving to kneel between his thighs.

"I'm not that much of an asshole," he sighed.

"No," she agreed, trailing her fingers along hair-roughened flesh. She felt his muscles tense beneath her touch and did it again, watching her fingers glide over the fine curls that scattered his thighs. Moving her gaze up to his face, she let them dance over the soft cotton of his boxer briefs then hooked them in the waistband and tugged. "You're a good boy, aren't you?"

"Trying real hard to be," he said, throat working jerkily.

Keeping her fingers curled in the waistband, she dragged her eyes downward, admiring the way his cock lay against his abdomen. She lowered her head to lick the wet from the tip. Heard the air hiss between his teeth and did it again. She wanted to be languid, to take her time exploring and learning how he liked to be touched but felt such a thrill when he moaned that she took the tip into her mouth. Enjoying the tang of him on her tongue, she pulled her hands from the bunched cotton and began stroking him gently.

"Fuck," he moaned.

His hand covered one of hers and squeezed, and she heard his shaky breath when she adjusted her grip. When she began stroking him harder his hand slid to her cheek, and as his fingers slid into her hair, she closed her eyes. She opened them immediately, though, because she wanted to look up the length of his body and see what she could of his face. Sucking more of him into her mouth, she watched his teeth clamp his bottom lip and felt a surge of command when his head tipped back.

He moaned. Gasped. Hissed. His hand stayed gentle in her hair but she could feel his fingers trembling against her scalp. That surprised her, because she had expected him to pull on her head, and she was warmed at the thought that he trusted her to please him without guidance.

She lifted off with a soft gasp when he released a long, deep, guttural moan. Overhead she heard the chatter and fluttering wings of startled birds.

"Don't stop," he panted, raising his head. "Please—"

"I've got you," she promised, guiding the tip of his cock into her mouth again. Focusing on it with her tongue, she stroked harder and felt him swell. His fingers scrabbled deeper into her hair, twisting almost painfully, and she watched in awe at his eyes snapping shut. His mouth stretched so tight it looked like a pained grimace, upper lip pressed white against his teeth, and she felt euphoric when he came. A series of garbled shouts filled the air around them. His hips lifted and his stomach sucked in, his face disappearing as he filled her mouth.

She swallowed, easing her strokes and the flickers of her tongue while he collapsed back. Pinpricks of pain scattered her scalp when his hand dropped, dragging several strands of her hair with it, but she focused on catching every drop and then on licking him clean, his high-pitched gasps ringing in her ears as she slowly sat up.

"Fuck," he panted, arm flopping across face.

Serena allowed herself a small smile of satisfaction and reached for the glass of tea next to the picnic basket. After taking a gulp, she wiped her chin with her palm and tentatively laid next to him. Unsure if he wanted to be touched anymore, or even if he wanted her at his side, she hesitated, delightfully surprised when he caught her and dragged her close. She rested her head on his damp chest, breathed in the scents of sweat and sex that mingled with his cologne and shampoo. Curling close, she kept her touches light, occasionally pressing kisses over his pounding heartbeat.

After several long moments he gently tugged until she scooted up, his lips meeting hers in a tender kiss. He didn't speak, so neither did she, content to lie with him.

And knew that it had all meant something to him, too.

***

Head tipped back, Serena held her breath out of habit as the makeup artist applied her eyeliner. She knew her makeup was almost done and it only increased her anxious energy, but she kept herself as still as possible so it wouldn't have to be redone. The fact that her phone kept chirping with incoming messages didn't help. She didn't know for sure, but she had an inkling they were from Adam. He tended to text in strings as opposed to sending long paragraphs. Not that she minded, because it was like getting his thoughts as they came to him, and she loved reading or hearing his thoughts.

She loved…

"All done, sugar."

"Thanks so much," Serena gushed, sitting upright and looking to her reflection. Admiring the shade of eyeshadow and how it perfectly matched her new gear, she reached for her phone and snapped a quick selfie before hopping out of the chair. She still had to change. The show was about to start, and there were still a million things to do before she made her entrance.

For the main event.

She pinched herself again. Nope, still not a dream.

"Hey, Mermaid, I found this loser hanging around…"

She whirled at the sound of Cole's voice. Felt a rush of giddiness at the sight of Adam. It had been over two weeks since they'd been together in the same room, and her heart tripped over itself a thousand times in the seconds it took her to meet him in the hallway, a silly giggle rising when she saw he was grinning. "You came," she breathed in surprise, stepping into his arms for a brief hug. "You're really here."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," he murmured. His arms squeezed, and she felt his cheek against her hair. "I know you ain't got long, I just wanted to see you before I went to get in my seat."

"I've got a few minutes," she promised, pulling back and reaching for his hand. Two weeks of FaceTime and texting and phone calls hadn't been enough. She had missed the man. Missed his laugh in her ear and his warmth around her and his arms holding her. And, even if she'd only had one full day of them before he'd had to leave, she'd missed his kisses, too. Guiding him to a quiet nook, she leaned against the wall and stared at him. "Hey."

"Hey," he said with a grin. "You're not dressed yet?"

"I'm going to do that in a minute." He was really there. She wanted to know how he'd managed to make it happen, but at the moment she was content just to look at him. To just breathe in his scent and be calmed by the knowledge he was there.

"You okay?"

Serena nodded, even as she sucked in a shaky breath. Her hands twisted and she felt her knuckles crack. "Just a little nervous," she finally whispered. She was still awed that the match was going to happen. Had pinched herself when she had been taken aside earlier and told the outcome, which hadn't been decided until fifteen minutes before she'd gone to get her makeup. And now time was speeding by and she had to get ready to perform. Added to that was the fact that Adam was truly there, prepared to root for her like the good boyfriend he was turning out to be.

Even though she still worried. He hadn't brought up sex again after that afternoon at the lake. Hadn't even attempted anything beyond kisses that night, when she had thought in the back of her mind that if he'd asked she would have said yes. But she'd held back, fretting that she wasn't pretty or skinny enough for him to truly want her. Because no matter what he said, no matter the words that had brought tears to her eyes, she had an inkling he would have no trouble finding someone better than her to lie under him.

But if he felt that way, would he still reach for her hand when they were near each other? Would he still put his arm around her shoulders anytime she stood next to him? Would his lips find her forehead for those sweet kisses? Would he smile when he caught her looking at him? Would he hug her so fully and gently? If he didn't think she was even almost good enough, would his pinkie hook around hers every time their hands bumped?

Oh, how she needed a hug now, she thought, twisting her fingers until her knuckles cracked again. She could hear his voice but the words didn't register and she suddenly reached out, grasping his arm.

"Can I have a hug?" she blurted. She stomped right into the middle of whatever statement he'd been making but at the moment she didn't care. She just needed his arms around her. To feel his warmth and strength and that sense of comfort. That comfort she was just starting to admit to herself she'd never found in anyone else's arms.

She watched the flash of confusion ripple across his face. His lips ticked up into that warm smile she was growing to love, and his eyes softened with understanding.

"C'mere," he murmured, spreading his arms.

She stepped into them gratefully, turning her head so her makeup wouldn't smear on his shirt. Her shirt, she realized suddenly, recognizing the outline of her face with the swoop of neon pink hair on the front of the black shirt. It almost made her want to cry.

Serena sighed, wrapping her arms around his middle and holding tight. Breathing in his scent, she squeezed her eyes shut when his arms tightened. She felt his chin rest on the top of her head, felt his deep sigh that matched hers. Her fingers curled against his back and she gave the shirt a slight tug. Just enough to free it from his jeans. Just enough to slip her hands beneath so she could feel the heat of his skin. Selfish, she knew, but she'd grown addicted to that warmth in those days he stayed in her apartment. She would never admit it to him, but she hadn't washed the case on the pillow he'd used until his scent had dissipated. Had held it close each night to get the same comfort holding him had brought.

She flattened her hands on his back and held on, inhaling deeply and releasing it slowly. Feeling the stress and worry ebb with her breath. His hands moved in slow circles, caressing her as he brought her even closer.

She could have stayed there all night in his arms. Would have been content to hold and be held. To hear his heartbeat directly beneath her ear. To feel the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. To soak up the comfort and warmth he was so freely offering.

"Okay?" he whispered.

She nodded, squeezing her eyes tighter at the feel of his lips against the top of her hair. "Sorry," she said, slowly pulling her hands from beneath his shirt and attempting to tuck it back into place. Lifting her head, she opened her eyes, breath leaving in a shaky gasp when his hand raised and his fingers swept over her cheek. "Sorry."

"I'm ain't gonna complain about a hug from you, Dimples."

Her lips pulled into a smile. She knew he spotted her dimple when his eyes lit up, which only made her smile harder. "You always know just what to say, Cowboy."

"Only with you," he murmured. His fingers grazed her cheek again. "Only with you."

She hoped that were true. God, she really hoped he meant that. She heard someone approaching and knew she had to hustle to get ready for her match. "I better go. I still have to change."

"I'm still pissed you won't let me see it before you go out," he muttered. He leaned to kiss her forehead, lips lingering for a few seconds. "But I understand. I better get out there so I can see every detail."

She opened her mouth to say she would look for him. But would that be too much? She didn't care. "I'll look for you."

"I know you will, Dimples." He cupped her cheek, forehead resting against hers. "Knock 'em dead, baby."

"You fucking know it." Relaxed now, and happy, and excited and joyful and, she realized as her heart did a series of somersaults, a little bit in love.

***

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"What?"

"How the fuck is this inconspicuous?" Adam gestured at the ringside seats. The only thing between them and the ring was a thin barricade and about seven feet. If he sneezed, people in the ring would probably feel the air ripple. Remembering that he was standing in front of someone, he muttered an apology, faintly recognizing the woman as Finn's wife, moving out of her way.

"Sorry, man, but I got my orders." Cole shrugged and slid into a seat, then patted the empty one next to him.

"Your boss don't want me sitting here where everyone can see," Adam grumbled, sitting down and situating himself. He'd been perfectly content in the seat he'd had earlier in the show. Where he could watch without being obvious. But when one of the security staff had tapped him on the shoulder and told him Cole wanted him to sit closer during Serena's match, he'd complied. Mainly to shut his friend up, but also because he did want to see Serena in action up close. "They're gonna point a camera at you, aren't they?"

"Of course." Cole smoothed his shirt. "Everyone knows I helped train her when she started at the PC. Everyone knows I'm one of her closest friends in the company. That I'm like her brother. That—"

"Stop before I puke," Adam sighed. It would be alright, he told himself. Besides, he was wearing regular clothes. Serena's new shirt and jeans.  His hair was pulled up. He even had his glasses on. Feeling an ache beginning in his back, he groaned. He'd slouched down. He pushed himself up in the chair, leaning close to his friend while the video package continued to play. "Do you know if she's gonna win?"

"Yeah."

Adam blinked. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"She's—"

"Hunter wouldn't tell me. Said I'd have to wait and see."

"She wouldn't tell you?" Adam grunted in frustration. "Then how can you know she's gonna win?"

"Because it's time for her to win." Cole took out his phone. "Besides, she's like my little sister. I have to believe she's gonna win."

The package ended and Adam blinked as the lights came up. The crew members that had been switching out the canvas in the ring were gone, and he looked on while a referee came out, then as the announcer approached the ring.

"Cowboy shit!"

Adam couldn't help but grin as the chant rose in volume. But he made a slicing motion across his throat, shaking his head, in hopes they would stop. Next to him Cole laughed.

"Hunter's pissed," he announced with glee, leaning to show Adam his phone.

Adam read the words on the screen and laughed. "They showed me on camera?"

"Apparently. Or at least enough for people to know who you are."

Adam felt a twinge of guilt. This was Serena's big match. Granted, all her matches were her big match. She treated a warm-up match before the show with the same reverence and dedication as she would a main event. But this was the big match. Her first pay-per-view main event. And it was for the title. He didn't like the feeling that his being spotted in the crowd may have taken some of the spotlight from her. Where it firmly belonged.

"He wants you to move," Cole said as the chants finally began to die down.

"Fuck him," Adam snorted. "I'm here to watch my girl kick ass. Tell him he can suck my left nut."

Cole opened his mouth to respond, then bent to tap on his phone.

"You motherfucker," Adam growled, leaning to make sure his friend wasn't telling the man exactly what he'd said. Seeing that Cole had merely sent a message saying the match was starting and he had to pay attention, he relaxed and turned his attention to the stage just as the lights went down.

She'd told him little about the plans for her entrance. Only that it was going to be amazing. Ripples of light danced across the crowd before shifting and focusing their beams on the entrance ramp. Through his peripheral vision he could see pinpoints of light from phones, like a blanket of stars across a midnight sky. Choral chanting began softly and Adam leaned forward in his seat, watching as figures moved to line either side of the ramp. He recognized the melody of the chanting as her entrance theme and was almost startled out of his seat when the chanting gave way to a guitar solo.

The guitarist was at the head of the ramp, playing out the main portion of her theme, smoke billowing around until they were concealed. The guitar stopped and the chanting began again, and he felt the ripple of excitement in the crowd as the lights changed from white to purple. Her theme kicked in fully, the lights swung over the audience, and when they returned to the stage there she was, stepping through the smoke, wearing a robe just like the figures along the ramp.

She strode down the ramp in time to the music, stopping halfway as the robed figures circled her. When they moved away the plain robe was gone and Adam felt his breath hitch when he saw the pink leather jacket over her new gear. No wonder she'd told him it was going to be a surprise. If he'd seen her wearing it backstage he wouldn't have been able to speak. Even now he could feel his throat going dry. She'd finally ditched the long pants and concealing top. Her thighs were on display, as were the rest of her delicious curves, the bright pink contrasting so perfectly with her sun-kissed skin and matching her hair.

"Damn," he said, eyes on her as she circled the ring. She stopped almost in front of he and Cole, her eyes focusing on him. One corner of her mouth tilted into a slight smile, and he returned her wink before she turned to go up the steps. "…Damn."

He barely noticed the champion's entrance. All he could focus on was Serena as she spoke to the referee and lightly bounced in place. Blinking when the dizzying lights ceased and the lights above the ring became bright, he felt his knee begin to bounce with excitement as the announcer introduced each competitor.

She was definitely over with the crowd. Both of them were, the thunderous cheers for each almost the same volume and just as enthusiastic. He reached for his phone while she shrugged off the jacket, and had his breath snatched away yet again. He noticed the time. Saw that it was over thirty minutes left for the match. Remembered her saying it was going to be fucking amazing. He could see the excitement in her eyes as the bell was struck to begin the match and knew that his face showed the same excitement.

It was beyond fucking amazing.

There was a slow start, each woman seeming to feel the other out as they circled the ring. Until Serena stopped and motioned for Shayna to come at her. She did, slowly, extending one hand as a show of good sportsmanship. Serena looked to the hand with curiosity, then revulsion, one foot flying up to kick it away.

Strikes. Kicks. The action was fast-paced, both women moving fluidly and with speed, until they locked up and Serena threw Shayna with a Northern Lights. Adam joined in the applause and cheering. He cheered for them both, appreciating the talent and charisma, and letting himself just be a fan of good wrestling.

His breath hitched when Serena was sent over the top rope to the floor and he rose with everyone else, not realizing then that he wouldn't be sitting down for the rest of the match. He had always enjoyed Serena's selling, how she wasn't overdramatic about it, and even made him think she was legitimately hurting from a well-executed move. And he loved that both women were able to tell the story of their friendship and rivalry, emotion closing up his throat when Serena blocked a move and countered with the same move then retreated to the corner and covered her face with her hands.

His heart stopped when she climbed onto the top turnbuckle. And when she threw herself into a moonsault his heart soared through the air with her, landing with a juddering crash that rattled in his chest.

And when she rolled out of the ring after breaking out of a submission hold, he sensed that she wasn't going to win. Half the crowd was joining in the count of the referee, the other half was clapping rhythmically until she dragged herself up and crawled onto the apron. She slid beneath the rope just at the count of nine.

Maybe she was going to win after all? He honestly didn't care one way or the other.

The rest passed in a blur that stopped when an elbow to the face left her with a bleeding lip. It sped up again, and Adam knew he would have to watch it over again later because one moment she was knelt in the corner, the ref leaning over her, blood staining her chin and neck. And the next, she was charging forward, then going for the pin.

One. Two. Three.

The arena erupted. Adam couldn't even hear the bell ringing, or her music kicking on. Only the roar of the crowd.

He loved her.

Staring as she knelt in the center of the ring, he could feel the emotion radiating from her. Serena the person held her head in her hands because she had achieved a dream. Had, somehow, made those in charge believe in her enough to give her the gold, and couldn't believe it was happening. Was so overcome that she had to hide her face so the world couldn't see her tears. Serena the character was overwhelmed because she had finally done it, had finally proven the naysayers wrong. Had finally shown them all that she was the badass she said she was.

Adam wasn't sure what was louder. The pulse and blood rushing in his ears or the crowd, overcome and ecstatic from a stellar match. He heard his own voice cheering for her. And when she finally accepted the belt from the referee, he felt the heat of tears in his eyes.

He loved her.

The understanding hit him like a punch to the gut, leaving him winded and able to only stare as she celebrated her victory. He felt Cole's hand on his shoulder, heard his friend shouting with happiness, but couldn't articulate a reply. Could only watch her while confetti rained down and she clutched the belt to her chest.

Then, suddenly, she was rolling out of the ring. Moving closer. Towards Cole.

Towards him.

Bits of confetti clung to her cheeks, streaked with her tears. There was a glow in her eyes that he wished he could have put in them. Without thinking, he cupped her face in his hands and gently brought her close. Pressed his forehead to hers, her soft gasp of his name drowning out the fans around them.

"I love you," he whispered before catching her lips in a tender kiss.

***

He'd wanted to savor the liquor and enjoy the extended night with their friends. He'd wanted to spend hours in the bar celebrating her win before taking her back to the hotel where they could celebrate in private. But, seeing the way her eyes glittered after each kiss, he found himself downing the whiskey in one gulp. It burned and he hissed, turning to signal to the bartender that he wanted another. They'd have another drink then he'd guide her to the exit.

He felt buoyant, as though he had been the one that had won the match. As though he were a new champion. He was giddy, he was grinning, and each time he stole a kiss he felt his heart soar. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so happy, so not anxious about what was to come.

Fresh drink in hand, he slipped his arm around her and pulled her to his side while walking her away from the bar. Hailed by Keith and Finn, he guided her in that direction, making sure she took a seat at their small table before dragging a chair over for himself. He could tell the conversation would become lengthy and kept a hand on her thigh, occasionally squeezing so she would know she was still at the forefront of his mind.

Then, suddenly, he felt her stiffen. It was brief, but he knew it had happened. He knew she wasn't bothered by talk of being busted open during a match, otherwise she wouldn't be talking about her own recent injury, or pulling out her bottom lip to show the little gash she'd just gotten a couple of hours before.

Except she wasn't talking anymore. Her voice had faded and so had she. He could feel her shrinking back in the chair. Felt her trying to make herself invisible. Turning to ask her what was wrong, he felt the words lodge in his throat as his gaze landed on a figure walking towards the table. The man was vaguely familiar. Adam couldn't recall his name but knew their paths had crossed at some point.

"What's up?" he greeted, stopping at the table. His icy eyes landed on Serena.

Serena, who was looking at her hands, tightly clasped in her lap.

The man sneered and began to walk away before Finn or Keith or Adam could reply to his greeting.

And Adam knew who he was. He still couldn't remember his name, but he knew he'd just come face to face with the bastard that had crushed Serena's soul.

Without thinking, he pushed his drink onto the table and scraped his chair back. Serena's head lifted and he caught a glimpse of pain in her eyes. But he didn't hear whatever words came from her parted lips. Instead, he focused on the retreating back.

***

"They got beef?" Keith asked, frowning as Adam headed away from the table.

"I don't think so," Finn said. He was frowning as well.

Serena felt both men look at her. As well as Mia and Vero, who'd just returned from the restroom. Still feeling shaky, she pulled her gaze from Adam's drink, which was still rippling after being set down so quickly, and bit her lip at the sight of Adam approaching Shane. What the fuck was he doing?

She couldn't look away even though she didn't want to see what happened. She had an overwhelming sense of dread, especially when Shane turned and the light caught his sneer. It sent a chill through her, made her remember things she had strived to forget. Things that, until a moment ago, she had forgotten.

You thought I liked you? You? A cruel laugh. I only did you on a dare.

Despite the music she could hear silence. Chatting had stopped. There was an air of anticipation, and she jumped slightly when she heard chairs scraping back. Bit her lip harder and tasted the copper of blood when Keith walked towards Adam and Shane. He blocked her view and she flinched at the sound of a punch landing.

A yelp.

Shrieks.

Yells and clamoring for someone to fuck him up. Flashes from phone cameras went off, giving the scene a dreamlike appearance, and Serena didn't know she was standing until she felt Mia's hand on her arm.

Keith moved and she gasped. Shaking her arm free, she pushed forward, even though she hated to be within ten feet of him. Hated the air of disgust that emanated from him every time he saw her, as though she had ruined his self-esteem. Licking the blood from her lip, she put a hand on Adam's arm, dread growing as her eyes flicked to Shane and she saw his hands over his nose. Saw blood gushing from beneath his fingers.

"Adam?" she whispered, tightening her hold. What had happened? Why had he punched Shane? What had Shane done to him? Or said?

She didn't like the look on Adam's face when he looked at her. Fury and anguish and disgust. Dropping her hand as though it had been burned, she swallowed anxiously. She could still taste blood. And the dread continued to grow.

"We should go," she said, her voice faint to her own ears. Did he even want to go with her?

He blinked. Reached for her as Keith carefully guided them away from Shane, who was beginning to howl about a broken nose. A shaking hand caught hers, pulled, and when her eyes met his she felt the dread slip away.

"Why?" she asked when he kept walking. Past the table they'd been at. Past other tables, ignoring the people that called out to him. "Adam, why?"

He didn't answer. His hand was still shaking, even as it clutched hers tightly. She brought her other hand to his arm, rubbing in what she hoped was a comforting way, and when he steered her out the exit and onto the sidewalk she drew in a breath.

"Adam…" She felt scared. Silly, maybe, because she knew he wouldn't hurt her. But she hated seeing him like this. Hated not being able to get a sense as to what he was feeling or thinking. Hated the fear that clawed at her heart. She wanted to know what Shane had said or done to cause him to react in such a way. But mostly, she just needed him to speak.

He didn't. Not on the short walk to the hotel. Or in the elevator. His hand had stopped shaking but he was still a hulk of silence. And when they entered her room, he let go of her hand and dropped onto the foot of the bed with a bone-weary sigh.

She approached timidly. "Cowboy… Talk to me?"

"I cain't." His voice was wreathed with pain.

"Sure you cain," she murmured without thinking.

He looked at her again, eyes narrowing.

"Sorry. Is it can? Or cay-un?" she asked, needing to lighten the mood. "I don't speak Virginian."

Adam said nothing, just shook his head and exhaled harshly.

"What did he do?"

"I don't know."

"Okay…" She cleared her throat, trying to dissect just why he would slam his fist into a man's face if the man had done nothing.

"But I know he did somethin'."

Serena froze. "What?"

"To you."

"Who – Why – How?" she choked out. She'd told no one. Only Cole, and she knew that he wouldn't have told Adam. He hadn't even told Britt.

"I knew someone had hurt you," he mumbled, kicking at the corner of his suitcase. "Cole wouldn't tell me who, but he said someone had hurt you a while back."

"Okay." But that didn't explain—

"And tonight, when I saw the way he looked at you, and then you…" He sighed. "You tried to disappear. And I knew it was him."

"Oh," she whispered.

"Wasn't it?"

She nodded. Or, tried to. She did manage to bob her chin down once, but that was all.

"That's why."

"But it was months ago—"

"And you're still hurting from it." He frowned. "You still hurt because of him."

"Not him," she said. She drew in a breath and rubbed at her bare arms. Wished she hadn't agreed they go out to a bar. Wished she'd asked him to just come back to the hotel with her so she could lose herself in him. If she'd done that, she wouldn't be feeling so cold and small and stupid. "He just… Drove in that what I think about myself is true."

"It's not," he ground out. "I don't give a fuck what he said or what the fuck he did, it ain't fucking true."

"Adam—"

"And if I have to spend the rest of my goddamn life proving to you that it ain't true, I will."

Startled by that, she stared as he rose to his feet. Drew in a shaky breath. "What?"

"You heard me, Dimples." He stepped forward, and she felt the wall meet her back as his hands framed her face. "I ain't leaving this room until you believe you're the prettiest, most beautiful, most devastatingly fucking gorgeous woman in the world."

She gulped. "I-I… I do have to go to work, y'know…"

"Fine," he groaned, dipping his head and brushing his lips over hers. "I'll just spread it out over time, baby."

"Adam?" she whispered, clutching the front of his shirt.

"Yeah?"

"I'm ready."

"Ready for what?"

"For you."

[lovemesomesurveys]

created by: allwrongx - Bzoink

Do you have a bookshelf? If so, just one or how many? Yeah, just one tall one as of now. I definitely need to get another one because this one is stuffed. 

If you answered yes to the above, are your books ordered in a special way? The series are grouped together, but otherwise no.

Have you ever owned action figures? Yeah.

Why did you last smile? Because of something in a video I was watching earlier.

Do you have a close relationship with your immediate family? Yes.

If I gave you twenty bucks what would you do with it? I’d put it towards my Doordash order that I will be doing later.

If dinosaurs could be tamed, would you want one as a pet? Uh, no. Definitely not.

Do you crack your knuckles, neck or toes constantly? My knuckles and neck.

Are you constantly catching colds or other sicknesses? No, which always strikes me as odd cause I feel like due to health reasons I would. I do feel unwell and crappy a lot, though, due to said health reasons.

Is there a movie from your childhood that you still watch today? Yeah, a ton.

Have you ever seen The Rocky Horror Picture Show? Many times. I’ve even gone to a few watch parties where it’s super interactive. 

Where do you do most of your shopping? For clothes, Boxlunch and Hot Topic. For food, Walmart and our nearby grocery store. For other things, it varies and depends on what it is.

Are you afraid of mice? Yes.

What type of souvenir do you usually purchase when on vacation? I like to get t-shirts or hoodies, keychains, maybe a magnet, and whatever else I find that interests me.

Do you vacation often? No, unfortunately. It’s been a lot less the past few years. With COVID now, who knows when I’ll vacation again. I’m so glad I was able to go on a Disneyland trip right before the pandemic and quarantine hit. I had no idea that would be the last time for a long time.

Are you comfortable wearing your pajamas in public places? Yeah. My pajamas and “day” clothes are the same items: leggings and oversized graphic tees.

What's your favorite candy bar? White chocolate. 

Do you own more than one copy or edition of a book? No.

If you could see any musical on Broadway right now, what would it be? None at the moment.

If you could put any person or characters face on money, whose would it be? Uhhh.

The place that you'd most like to be right now is where? Right here in my bed.

Do large crowds make you anxious? Very. I get anxious and overwhelmed. 

Do you own a helmet of any sorts? Nope.

Will you willingly sing in front of other people besides your family? Nooo.

What's in the box? I have no idea. 

Does your family generally decorate for most holidays? Just for Christmas, really. Especially me.

Would you take the chance to be Nancy Drew or The Hardy Boys for a day? No, but I love Nancy Drew books. Those were some of my favorites as a kid. I still love mysteries, but I like solving them as a reader, comfy in bed, ha.

Do you eat soup when you're sick? Sometimes. That’s when I’m really sick and I’m just trying to get something in my stomach.

Is there a specific mug or coffee cup that you have to use all of the time? Not have to, but yeah I have my favorites.

Have you ever watched Doctor Who? Nope. I’ve never had an interest in checking out.

If so, what do you think is the scariest creature yet? --

Do you prefer to do your shopping online or in person? Online, definitely. I do all my shopping online now, but even pre-COVID I was doing quite a bit of it online the past few years.

If you read, which book or series did you enjoy most as a child? Like I mentioned, Nancy Drew was one of them. I also loved Goosebumps, The Babysitter’s Club, Ramona and Beezus, Sweet Valley High, Judy Blume books, etc.

Do you read tour guide type books before you visit places? No. I Google places, though.

Would you please belt out a few song lyrics here? “I’m desperate for changing, starving for truth. I’m closer to where I started, I’m chasing after you.”

How do you get rid of your hiccups? Nothing seems to work, I just have to wait ‘em out.

Is there one saying that you've adopted from someone/somewhere else? Of course. I feel like that’s a common occurrence that happens for everyone.

Do you buy Halloween candy when it's on sale after the holiday? I used to.

Why is your favorite teacher your favorite? My 4th grade teacher, who also ended up teaching 8th grade and I got to have him again, will always be a favorite of mine. He was just such an awesome teacher. He really cared about education and helping students. He made learning fun. He was also just really funny and cool. He was everyone’s favorite.

Who can never fail to make you laugh? My doggo.

Do you agree with the "they're just being kids" excuse? Uhh, depends on what they’re doing?

How many pets have you had in your lifetime? 4 doggos, 2 hamsters, and numerous fish.

Were you ever afraid of monsters under your bed? Nah.

Would you kindly recommend your favorite movie to me? I have a ton of favorites from various genres.

[return-of-a-space-cowboy]

Blackmore is my favourite character in JoJo's, I see a lot of myself in him and the band Rainbow has become one of my favourites.

I haven't seen a lot of content for my favourite rainy boy so here is some lol

Nerves (yandere blackmore x gender neutral reader)

Warning: drugging

"Now mister Walter, you have been convicted with the plotting and attempting of terrorism as well as attempting to murder the president of the United states, you have no defence or reasoning to point otherwise so you are hereby sentenced to execution" you explained as you grabbed out a notebook and pen while looking down at the cowering man while your stand Heaven and hell pointed your gun towards him.

"Occultism is a very dangerous thing to be messing with..." You continued as you open up the notebook and before looking out the widow of the abandoned building, drops of rain splattering on the dusty glass panels.

"The... The gun" he stuttered as he pointed to what he could only see as a floating gun.

"Yes I'm fully aware that my gun is floating, do not try to escape now or you'll have a bullet in your head" your explained as you looked back at him.

"Now I'll give you a chance to say your final testimony. You can say whatever you wish. a plea, a prayer, a final message to a loved one or a curse upon who shall be the one to end your existence..." You explained before looking at your watch.

"You have one minute" you ended as you waited for him to speak but he didn't.

"You haven't said a word, time's running out" you scolded. Still no response. Your stand dropped the gun and began to approach him in a methodical pace.

"5...4...3..2.." you slowly counted down the seconds left as you stand drew closer.

"1" you said before your stand grabbed him and he let out a horrific scream as a bright green light surrounded him, blinding all from the whatever would become of the man. Soon the light faded to reveal the empty husk that was his body. It stood up autonomously and began to walk around aimlessly.

"A fate worse then death..." You muttered under your breath before leaving the building only to be met by a familiar masked figure.

"Blackmore did you eliminate the other terrorists?" You asked and the male approached you slowly until he was at an uncomfortably close distance to you.

"I believe so... None of them were moving after the droplets hit them" the male mumbled before handing you his umbrella.

"You shouldn't walk out in the rain with no umbrella, you could catch a cold" he said as his mask disappeared, revealing the face of the fair male with blonde hair and blue eyes.

"That's very kind of you Blackmore and I can tell you did a good job today" you replied with small smile before the male pulled open your coat to reveal the bullet wound you had gotten before by disguising your stand as the president.

"It looks really bad..." He muttered in concern.

"It's not as bad as it looks, beside I only get fifty percent of the injury... Mr Walter got the rest" you explained, trying to calm the worried man.

"Your stand is so more powerful compared to mine, Mine-" he mumbled but you quickly cut him off.

"Blackmore a stand maybe powerful but that doesn't determine how useful it is... Don't listen to what others tell you, you're a worthy assassin so much so infact that president Valentine considers you to be his very best" you said as you began to walk with him not far behind.

"Really?!" he exclaimed as his full blue eyes gleamed.

"Yep" you replied.

"What about you then, your just as good if not better then me?" He asked.

"You know I'm not necessarily an assassin... I'm just the president's personal bodyguard. I just do these kinds of missions if it directly effects his safely" you explained to the male who was now walked shoulder to shoulder with you. So desperate to drape over you for more attention.

The male never really liked physical contact but always seemed to cling onto you like a little puppy. You didn't mind it, you understood the male was different but you always tried your best to make him feel normal.

"Hey (Y/n)" he said as he rested his head against your shoulder.

"Yes Blackmore?" You asked as his long ponytail tickled your cheek.

"Do you want to walk on the rain with me?" he asked.

"Blackmore, I'm afraid of heights, I don't think I could" you replied but he still summoned his stand.

"It's ok, you'll be safe" he explained as had a vice grip on your hands as he took his first step up.

"No Blackmore" you said a bit harsher as he pulled you off of the ground, each step making you both go higher and higher into the sky.

"No Blackmore, put me down!" You yelled as panic began to set in. Your breath hitched and your head began to spin as you looked at the world beneath you. The male simply didn't understand that you were afraid of heights, if he wasn't then why were you?

You began to feel you heart beat faster as he held you. You lost your footing on the rain drops and slipped but the male managed to keep hold of you as he slowly brought you back to the ground.

"Blackmore, I told you I didn't want to walk on the rain! I nearly died!" You scolded before walked of from him.

Under his mask he nearly cried as the guilt of upsetting you kicked in. He just wanted to show you how wonderful walking on the sky could be without considering that you may have not liked it.

He slowly walked in the rain back to mansion that all of Valentine's elite lived, he hoped that you wouldn't hate him for what he did and that he could make it up to you.

🌧️🌧️🌧️

Hey Blackmore, you what's up with (Y/n)? They've been acting weird since they got back" Magenta Magenta greeted with a voice that made him sound congested and sickly.

"I made them upset..." Blackmore replied in a murmur.

"Well you better make it up to them quickly, I'm starting a game of poker soon" he said as he shuffled a deck of cards.

"I'll... Try-"

"You better! I have to make myself some more money to last the week!" he hissed.

"You just got paid two days ago" Wakapiko said to the him.

"Come on you Italians can't blame me for having a good taste in liquor" he replied as he rolled his eyes.

"Just get them out here so can start already!" He yelled at Blackmore.

Blackmore quickly made his way to your bedroom and knocked on the door.

"Yes, come in" you called but your voice was slightly muffled.

The male opened the door to see you bit down on a piece of wood while sitting on the the bed shirtless as one of the housemaids was stitching your bullet wound.

The male waited for her to finish stitching and leave the room before speaking.

"(Y/n) I'm really sorry... I just thought you'd like it... I'll never do it again" he apologized.

"That's alright, I know you had no malice intention" you replied.

"Could you just grab some medicine? This wound is killing me and now I have a horrible headache" you asked.

"Sure" the male replied as he into the kitchen.

"So they coming or not?" Magenta Magenta asked.

"I don't think so... They just asked me to get them some medicine" he explained.

"So they're gonna be out cold for the night, just great" Magenta Magenta muttered in annoyance. Blackmore opened the medicine cabinet and pulled out the various bottles of tonics, cough syrup and painkillers until he found the strongest painkiller he could find before grabbing some water and returning to your room.

"Thanks" you replied as you grabbed the bottle out of his hand and took a big mouthful of the liquid before trying your best to swallow the bitter medicine. Once it finally went down you grabbed the glass of water and gulped it down to get rid of the horrible taste and within a matter of minutes you passed out in a drug induced sleep.

Blackmore couldn't help but admire how peaceful you looked as you slept, he just couldn't help but cuddle up next to you. Your arms felt so nice as they wrapped around him. Your heartbeat was like music to the males ears. He couldn't even here the arguing of the other assassin's outside as he cuddled your sleeping form. He loved it so much, he loved you so much. He couldn't help but bite into your shoulder, his teeth sinking into your soft skin softly, trying not to leave a mark.

🌧️🌧️🌧️

Since then Blackmore would slip some heavy medicine into your drinks before you went to bed. Every night he'd enjoy sleeping beside you. He was to shy to nervous to ask you so instead he'd wait until the drugs would kick in, surely if you had found out you wouldn't of minded.

Tonight Magenta Magenta had insisted on another game of poker so you all sat at the drawing room table.

"You want some beer (Y/n)?" He asked you as he shuffled the deck.

"Sure, why not? I haven't had a beer before" You replied as you took your last sip of whisky.

"Oi Blackmore get 'em some beer!" Magenta Magenta ordered.

"No I'll get it myself" you replied.

"No no, it's fine" Blackmore said as he stood from his chair.

"Are you sure? You might miss the first round" you asked.

"Yeah I'm fine, I'm not really gonna play... I always lose" he replied as he went to the kitchen grabbing a beer bottle from the crate and opening it before going into the medicine cabinet and grabbing out some medicine and pouring it inside before swirling the liquid to mix in with the alcoholic beverage. Little did the male know that it was a possibly deadly mix.

He came back with the beer in hand before sitting next to you and putting the drink on the table.

"Thank you" you said with a smile as you picked up your cards with one hand while using your other hand to grab the bottle.

"No problem (Y/n)" he replied as a small smile formed on his face. God you were gorgeous in his eyes. You were the sweetest person to ever walk the earth, he just wanted you to himself but he was just so nervous to tell you how he felt.

After a few rounds you had accumulated a large sum of cash, the night seemed to be in your favour until you felt that forsaken tingle in your cheeks.

"Oh what's the matter (Y/n), regretting that large bet you made?" Magenta scoffed but soon he realised what was going on as you ran out of the room and threw your guys up.

"Thank god they didn't get any on the carpet" Wakapiko muttered to himself.

"How pathetic, can't even keep one beer down" Axl scoffed as he finished his seventh beer.

"I don't think it's alcohol intolerance... They might actually be sick" Wakapiko said. Blackmore began to worry, did he cause this? Were you going to be ok?

Eventually after about thirty minutes of excessive vomiting you passed out and you colleges helped you into bed before they left, except for Blackmore. He stayed and cuddled up with you like he always did. He bit into you but this time your skin broke as his teeth grinded harshly on your skin, he was very nervous. Would you ever speak to him again if you found out that he'd been slipping medicine into your drinks.

🌧️🌧️🌧️

You woke up feeling at your worst, you were groggy and your head was pounding like it had been hit with a sledgehammer. You soon realised you weren't the only one as you saw that Blackmore was sleeping beside you with his hands wrapped around you.

"Oh (Y/n) your awake! I though you may have died!" He exclaimed as his arms squeezed you.

"That beer messed me up, that's all" you said.

"About that..." Blackmore muttered as he looked away from you before looking back at you, like a small child about to get told off.

"What?" You asked, unaware that sweet Blackmore would do anything bad to you intentionally.

"I put medicine in your beer" he muttered.

"Why would you do that?" You asked in a confused tone. The male did quite a few weird things but this was probably the most worrying.

"I wanted to help you sleep, I like how you look when you sleep... You just look so beautiful while you sleep... I've been doing it for weeks just so I can sleep with you" he explained. You pushed him back and got off of the bed and noticed the small splatter of dried blood before seeing the deep bite mark on your shoulder.

"You bite me!" You yelled.

"(Y/n) I-!"

"Keep away from me! Do you understand what you've done is terrible!" You explained.

"Do you still love me?" The male asked in a saddened tone.

"Love?! Blackmore... drugging a person to be with them isn't love!" You yelled as you ran out of the room and left the mansion. You had to tell the president.

🌧️🌧️🌧️

"Well (Y/n)... You seem very underdressed for anything business related" Valentine greeted, slightly baffled by the fact that you were in your sleepwear.

"It's very important" you explained.

"Urgent enough to barge into the Whitehouse in your sleepwear?" He asked.

"Yes, it's about Blackmore..." You said.

"Yes I'm aware that he's challenged, surely you've grown use to it" he replied.

"No mister president, it's not that... He's been drugging me" you explained.

"Blackmore has been drugging you?" Funny Valentine asked in disbelief.

"Yes he confessed this morning, he said he did it because he liked how I looked while sleeping... He's developed some unhealthy obsession with me" you explained.

"What are you going to ask me?"

"I'd like to live I separate accommodation to the others" you replied.

"What you're asking for is something rather pricey..."

"It doesn't need to be big and extravagant, hell-"

"Do refrain from such language!" He cut you off.

"Sorry, as I was saying... It doesn't need to be big and fancy, I don't mind if I have to do all the house work" you explained to the president as you tried to convince him. He folded his arms and let out a sigh before finally giving you a response.

"Well I can't have my bodyguard being drugged, it'll definitely effect your health and wellbeing so I'll allow it" he explained.

"Til then you can stay here in the Whitehouse in exchange of doing a few errands on my behalf" he continued.

"Thank you mister president"

🌧️🌧️🌧️

"It's been three days, where's (Y/n)?" Blackmore sighed as he looked out the window to see the dark clouds that loomed over Washington. A storm was coming.

"I don't know, they probably left after that creepy shit you did?" Magenta Magenta replied.

"Well I saw a letter that Wakapiko got from the president... Something about them doing some errands on his behalf" Axl replied in a slur.

Blackmore stood up and walked out the room without a word.

"Hey what the hell are you doing?! There's a storm coming in!" Magenta yelled but he got no response from the saddened blonde. He was determined to find you.

🌧️🌧️🌧️

All you had to do was find the man and incapacitate them, it seemed rather simple until you found out he was a stand user. You were chasing him down the street as you loaded your revolver, it was a risky move but you couldn't get close enough.

You took a shot aiming for the leg but it missed and he disappeared in thin air before appearing behind you and attempted to stab you but instead cut through your hip. You screamed out and accidentally fired another shot that went straight through his upper thigh. He fell down in pain. You took no chances and quickly hit the back of his head with the revolver to knock him out before beginning to drag him away while holding your side with your spare arm.

He had delivered a good blow to you but it wasn't anything life threatening. You dragged him down the street as the rain began to pour and a few droplets sealed your wound, you noticed this and looked around from side to side but couldn't see anyone until you looked above to find the man which you had tried so desperately to avoid.

"Blackmore, what are you doing here?!" You yelled.

"You hadn't come back for days... So I decided to look for you" he explained as he made his decent to the ground.

"I don't want to be around you, what you did is not right!" You replied.

"But I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you sick" the masked male said in a child like tone as he got right up close to you while holding a bouquet of flowers.

"I even got you flowers... I'm so sorry... I love you too much to hurt you" he said.

"No! It's not that it made me sick! It was the fact that you were drugging me in the first place!"

"I only did it because I love you"

"What you call love is an unhealthy obsession" you explained.

"Do you love me.... Even a little?" he asked.

"No! I don't, I'd rather you just disappear off the face of the earth!" You yelled, he just didn't get it.

Your words struck a chord in the male. The rain began to fall harder. The droplets that sealed your wound fell and it took you seconds to realise that the falling rain was cutting your skin like razors.

The male gritted his teeth. His mind overflowing with emotions that burnt like a fire. The male couldn't understand why you didn't feel the same for him.

[flamebearrel]

Some Dark Shade of Tired

Fandom: Super Smash Bros

Synopsis: Even in the World of Light, adventurers need their rest. Saving countless souls is never easy, after all. It's especially the case for the rookies, so when Villager finds himself losing sleep to someone's sobs he has no choice but to take action.

Word Count: 2114

Original Post Date: August 26, 2019

Characters: Villager, Ness (Minor/Mentions of Mario, Lucas, Paula, Jeff, Prince Poo, Galeem, Ness’s Family, Isabelle, Toon Link, Rosalina, Luigi, Trainer Red)

Ships: Ness/Villager (Can be taken as platonic or romantic)

Trigger Warnings: None

Other Notes: Ness has a lisp that only really comes out when his emotions go out of whack; I see Villager as a kid (like twelve years old); this is a sequel to Split Number One

Ao3 Link - Sequel to This

~~~

There were panicked, choked-up sobs coming from the cliff edge nearby when Villager woke up. He grunted quietly and shifted, glaring in the relative darkness. “Come on, who is up,” the little mayor hissed to himself. Any attempts of blocking it out proved futile, since the constant rays of light Galeem gave off were shining through the trees and into his eyes and the crying wasn’t stopping anytime soon. So he went to check it out.

Grazing his hand against a tree, Villager stepped over its roots and drew his gaze over the clearing. Once his eyes adjusted, he could just barely make out another fighter. Black hair… a striped shirt… a yellow-brown backpack clutched desperately against his chest… was that-

“I can’t do thith now,” Ness suddenly sputtered, cutting off Villager’s train of thought. “Out of all the timeth, not now, it can’t be now…!”

Yeesh. I… don’t think I’m qualified to help here. Villager backed up a little, pivoting to return to his sleeping bag. Ness wasn’t usually like that. He was supposed to be the confident, easygoing guy. Not… that. Whatever had gotten to him was probably something really private, which was likely something really deep and emotional, which was certainly not the mayor’s line of expertise.

…But he stopped halfway through his next step, because suddenly he remembered.

“You’re as much a part of this team as us, Villager. And we need your help just like you need ours.”

Mario’s words from before were rattling around in the back of his brain. They had never left, really, since even after they had cheered him up it still felt like he was barely helping. It wasn’t as if he was bad at fighting, but the others were just more experienced. Better. Aside from that, and providing everyone with snacks, Villager’s attempts to even out the burden-to-help ratio weren’t working.

So should he do something here? This was his chance to make up for it all, with one of his friends at that, and if he could run errands for the citizens back home then maybe it wouldn’t hurt to-

It didn’t matter what he decided anyway, because right then his overthinking was cut off by a burst of light. Whatever flickered behind him came completely out of the blue. The brunette squeaked and hurtled to the ground.

When Villager opened his eyes again, the other boy was staring at him.

The mayor shot to his feet. “Uh. Heeey, Ness.”

“How- how long have you been there?” came the tense response. 

“Doesn’t matter.” He’d play it cool. “What’re… what’re you doing crying out here? Really loudly? …In the middle of the night?” Okay, maybe that wasn’t so cool.

“Stop it! I’m not crying.”

“There are tears all over your face.”

Ness turned away. “It’th the PK Flash.”

Raising an eyebrow, Villager pressed, “Since when has that ever affected you?” The PSI user just shrugged. His hands were still fizzing with bits of green. “Come on now,” the kid in the No. 1 shirt continued, “there’s nothing to hide out here! Nobody’s gonna laugh at you, you know, if you’re the one saving the world.”

“…I don’t care if people laugh at me.”

“Oh?” 

“Well, I’m a laugh-y guy, right? Heh…” When Ness paused, it left the sounds of sniffles and the distant pummeling of a waterfall. “It’s worse when people get all worried.”

Villager ran over the sentence in his head. “It’s… worse when… Huh. I guess I never really thought about that.”

“Everybody’s got their own problems,” sighed the kid in stripes, “especially right now. You’ve seen it, I’m sure. You see how hard they’re taking everything, and the least you can do is be the big guy. Make sure you don’t worry ‘em even more.”

“Mm. …You know what?”

“I don’t really know a lot of things. Uh, what?”

“Of course we’re going to worry, but- if we get to, then you should too! Our team will only be as strong as the weakest of us, so we all gotta get stronger! And that doesn’t just mean physically. So go ahead and tell me… what’s wrong? I’m no Lucas when it comes to this stuff… but I’ll listen.”

Contemplation on Ness’s end, drawing out the seconds - one K.K. Slider, two K.K. Slider, will-he-ever-choose-K.K. Slider - until finally he set his backpack aside. “Okey,” he breathed. “Oookey.”

His violet eyes were some dark shade of tired when they met Villager’s.

“You see… I’m homesick again.”

The mayor blinked. “Wait wait wait, ‘again’? This is a recurring thing? I never knew you were homesick in the first place-”

“Well, I was! Why do you think I just randomly run off after matches? Whenever it happens, I can’t do anything until I call Mom.” 

Leaves were rustling in the wind behind them. Villager gave a sympathetic nod.

“It’s always been like this,” continued the PSI boy. “As soon as I left Onett to find the Melodies I started calling her, and then, when I got back, then it was Paula, Jeff and Poo, a-and- And I know it’s such a tiny thing. I know they’re just a call away; so I don’t make a big deal about it. ‘Cause I’m not gonna weigh everybody down when they’ve got real problems and mine are always just a single call away.”

“…You say always… except…”

Quietly, almost hysterically he snickered to himself. “Yeah, you get it. You get it! Now there’s no one to call, is there? Some angel alien thing lasers everything away and now Mom’s a Spirit, and Tracy and Dad, and nobody answers me anymore! And I need them, Villy! I mith- miss them so much, this ithn’t fun anymore… I want to go home, but I can’t, and I can’t ring up anyone either so the feeling’th not gonna go away! Which meanth I’ll be all weak and utheleth right when you need me, I can’t do thith now, not when you need me, I-I-I-”

A moment of pause as Ness scrubbed at his eyes. Shaking, he tried to take a breath, but when he opened his mouth another thought spilled out instead.

“And I hate thith lithp too! You can’t underthtand anything I’m thaying, all of it jutht-”

What happened next looked to Villager like some kind of distraction, because his friend shot to his feet and was suddenly very interested in doing yo-yo tricks. Walking the dog, rocking the baby, a million other tricks Villy didn’t know the names of but were probably more caretaking terms… until Ness was able to slowly calm down again.

“…Nice tricks,” the mayor offered.

Then, when Ness didn’t answer, Villager took the opportunity to try and figure out what he had just heard. What was he supposed to say? How could he say anything at all? As if some cheesy “they might be dead but they’ll always be alive in your heart” would… 

“Hey.” That wasn’t a terrible idea, actually. “Let’s go to Magicant.”

“Wh- What in th- Where’d that come from?”

With an awkward chuckle, Villager replied, “Trust me on this, alright? I know it makes no sense, but I want to show you something.”

Ness just sniffed and shut his eyes.

“So is… that a no, or-”

A pulling in the mayor’s chest cut him off, and then the world was pink and green and soft all around. As he steadied himself, he could see his friend nearby, buttoning up his pajama top. I wish I pocketed my pajamas. Then at least saving the universe would be comfy. Wait, not a good time.

“Here we are, O great mayor.” Taking a step toward the shorter fighter, Ness threw his hands out. “The train has arrived at the station. Now why are we here…?” Villager noted that despite the grand words and sweeping gesture, his friend’s eyes refused to meet anything but the floor.

Trying to figure out how to word his speech, the little mayor glanced to the side. It was there that a scene caught his eye. Just ahead, amidst a swirl of clouds and veggies, there was… a family. A blond woman was eating steak with her daughter. A man and an old dog sat nearby. All of them were smiling. And then the woman turned, and saw the two of them in the distance.

And she beckoned them to join in.

Something twinged in Villager’s chest. “Isn’t it obvious? We’re here because they’re here.”

“You can’t be serious…”

Smile fading fast, the kid in the No. 1 shirt snapped back to his friend. There was practically steam rising from the watery glare he met. 

“Eh-? What’s with that look? What did I say?!”

“We just came so you could get me off your back! Villager, this isn’t real, everything here is just in my mind-”

“It’s not like that AT ALL!”

The next thing he knew, Villager had pulled the taller boy down by the shoulders and to his level. Suddenly the world seemed to dim around them.

“Listen up,” the mayor ordered. “This is for a reason, got it? Now pay attention, cause I’m only making my point once.” Ness nodded, startled, giving Villager the chance to take a breath.

“I know this is your mind. No duh! But can’t that mean these guys are made from your memories? The perfectly real memories that you’ve amassed over who knows how long? These are the people you know- they look and act and care like you’ve always seen. If you’re in a place where you’ve literally made memories, where everything is familiar, and where everybody loves you… I’d say, technically, you’ve got a home right where we stand!”

A step back. Crossed arms. Villager nodded in the family’s direction as Ness took a long look, contemplative. That wasn’t enough, was it? He’d still have to…

“…And, besides this place… I get missing them. I understand! I miss my family, my villagers, the shopkeepers… I missed Isabelle until we found her! Even now, Toon and Rosalina! I even… I even missed you-!” Warmth was starting to tinge his cheeks from such openness. He cleared his throat. No stopping now.

“Uh. Uhh, and I’m sure everyone else misses each other too. Mario talks about Luigi all the time, and Lucas is keeping an eye out for Red… What I’m trying to say is, you’re not alone in this. Any of this! Not just in feeling homesick, either. If you feel down? Insecure? Like you’re the biggest burden anyone in the entire World of Light has ever seen?! …I get it. We… we really, really get it. And if everybody gets everybody, then that means right now, we can be your family, too.”

Whatever reaction Villager was expecting, it wasn’t this. Had he been the one hearing it, he’d be saying something, not just… staring. Admittedly the stare wasn’t too surprising; it was more the fact that Ness was smiling, sincerely, for the first time since he’d been saved.

“You really do mean it, huh…”

“Well… yeah.”

Then he was almost sent toppling. The kid in stripes practically tackled him, squeezing him tightly. After flailing a moment, the mayor managed to find some kind of balance. He huffed, “Okay, what’s this for, it isn’t part of my deal-”

“I’d never expect that from you,” Ness whispered. “Thank you.”

“…Blech! You’re so sappy.” In response to the PSI user’s smirk, he merely stuck out his tongue.

“Says the guy with the big old speech. Who, ya know, is hugging me right back~” 

And Villager immediately dropped his arms. “Y-YOU HAVE NO PROOF-” It was true, though. Lately lots of hugs had been going around. Just this once, he’d wanted to return one. “F… fine, I guess you’re not totally wrong… But you better not go acting like it’ll happen again.” Shaking his head, he moved to change the subject. “Nevermind that. Why don’t you tell me about them? Your family, I mean? There’s gotta be something interesting about ‘em for you to care so much, right?”

“Heh, lemme see… There was this one time Poo took a prank call… … …”

A few early risers the next morning, checking to make sure no one had been spirited away, immediately noticed they were down two fighters. Their epic search lasted only a few minutes. In the grassy clearing of the cliff edge lay the two, sound asleep. 

The others stared a moment at their light-dappled faces before deciding to leave them be. Quiet, content… those expressions… who would want to interfere?

For a single morning in Galeem’s World of Light, despite all the odds, their expressions shone like they were right at home.

[gumnut-logic]

Gentle Rain (Part Four)

Title: Gentle Rain

Warm Rain Series

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Author: Gumnut

21-22 Jan 2019

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: Sometimes it is so gentle, you don’t realise it is happening.

Word count: 2852

Spoilers & warnings: Virgil/Kayo, OC, spoilers for Warm Rain up to this point in the timeline.

Timeline: Six months after ‘The Proposal’, almost a sequel.

Author’s note: For @scribbles97  This is a challenge to write. A little different from my norm and proving challenging. Thank you for all your wonderful comments regarding my first original character in this fandom. I hope she doesn’t disappoint. And thank you all for your wonderful support, I couldn’t do this without you.

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

Kayo stared at the ceiling. Virgil had long ago painted a beautiful pale abstract across the plain white plasterboard. Swirls of pastel swooped in lazy whorls like the surface of water at dawn, a calming pattern to trace with tired eyes and she was sure he used it in unconscious meditation to get to sleep some nights.

As usual she had awakened early, the light in the room disturbing her, but unlike most mornings she hadn’t climbed out of bed. Virgil was thankfully still asleep beside her, his soft snoring somewhat reassuring. His hair was mussed and his face mushed into his pillow as usual, but he was lying on his side facing her, rather than on his stomach and it occurred to her that she should have realised that she hadn’t seen him sleeping on his stomach since the accident. The stretch to get his arms under the pillow must be too much. How had she not noticed?

She reached over and touched his hair. She couldn’t help herself. But he stirred suddenly and she pulled her hand back. He needed his sleep.

Did men ever grow up? Did they need mothering all their lives? She sighed.

He was a challenge, but so worth it.

A hand reached out and sought hers. “Hey.” His voice was rough with sleep.

“Sorry, love, did I wake you?”

“No, no.” He yawned. “Dream.”

She frowned as he rolled onto his back stretching, and, yes, there was the flinch. Damnit, Virgil. She reached over and touched his bicep. “Come here, love.” She pulled gently and he rolled over.

Slipping her arm under his neck, she lay on her back, drawing his head to her chest and stroking his hair. He wrapped his arms around her and she was enveloped in him.

“Love you.” His voice was breathy against her breast.

“Love you, too.” Her voice equally soft.

They simply lay there for a while, not speaking, his breathing evening out as he drifted. She didn’t sleep, but let her thoughts wander, as she stroked his hair.

They had been lucky again. Oh, so, lucky. So close to losing Scott. Losing their big brother. Scott was an irreplaceable presence. They all were, but Scott was the Big Brother, the one they all looked to and followed. She had to admit that Virgil would likely be lost without his brother. In no way did she mean that as a negative, it was just simply how it worked. Virgil was strong, a powerhouse and she adored him, but he wasn’t a leader quite like Scott and he never wanted to be.

And for a long time Scott had been the centre of his world. That centre had shifted now to include her, but she would always stand alongside his eldest brother. The love was far from the same, but it was still love, and she could respect that.

Especially when she loved Scott too.

“You’re thinking too loud.” It was muffled and petulant.

She smiled, letting her fingers trace his ear and drift to his cheek. “I’m thinking about your brother.”

“Which one? And do I need to remove him from your attention?”

A grin. “Scott, and no, trust me, love, you have my full attention.”

He nestled in closer to her in response. “Good. Love you.” A moment later. “What about Scott?”

She rolled her eyes before sobering a little. “Just how lucky we were this time.”

He muttered an affirmative into her skin, his breath warm.

“Do you know what she did to save him?”

She felt his brow crinkle against her neck. “What?”

And she was back in the dark of that hole, Scott’s breathing harsh in the dim light.

“Kay?” And he was looking down at her. When did he move? “Are you all right?” There was concern in his brown eyes.

She blinked. “Fine.” But then she realised she wasn’t. She hadn’t witnessed what the doctor had done, but her imagination was quite capable of filling in the gaps. “She pulled herself from the rubble and dragged herself over to Scott to stop his bleeding.” When Virgil’s expression didn’t change, she pushed further. “She is a paraplegic, so she felt none of the damage that had been done to her legs and none she did by moving.” She swallowed. “Em Harris lost her legs, Virgil. The damage was that extensive.” Kay closed her eyes.

His voice was quiet. “How is she taking it?”

A sigh. “I don’t know. You saw her, she seems fine, but I don’t know how she can be. She has no family.” A pause. “She’s alone.” Perhaps that is what struck her and prompted her to visit the woman. Her background check had come up clean except for the incident that had led to her paraplegia and that was hardly her fault. She had a practice south of Perth and a steady client base in partnership with another doctor. She was managing.

But there was something...

His fingers touched her cheek, trailing down to her jawline. She turned and kissed their tips before leaning into his hand and closing her eyes. “She shouldn’t be alone.”

Leaning over, he kissed her forehead. “Then invite her over for Christmas.”

She stared at him. “Really?”

He stared back. “Why not? You’ve done the background check. If you’re concerned, ask Penny to double check for you.”

“She will need medical support.”

“Scott will be needing the same.” He brushed her hair away from her face. “We can ask Andre to bring his partner. He’ll jump at the chance.”

He was right. Andre would love to spend Christmas with the Tracys. Even better if he could bring Cecil with him. “You would risk Cecil and Gordon in the same mile radius for an extended period of time?”

“Gordon will behave. Penny will be here.”

“Point taken.” She bit her lip.

“C’mon, love, you can invite a friend over for Christmas. This isn’t Fort Knox.”

She stared up into his chocolate eyes. Concern sat under a slight frown. She reached up and drew him back down to her side, wrapping her arms around him, bringing his head back to rest on her chest again. “Love you.”

“That’s because I’m very lovable.” He smiled into her skin.

A gentle tap on the shoulder was enough to get her reply to that communicated.

His smile widened.  “Love you, too.”

Her thoughts turned back to Em sitting up in bed, verbally sparring with her brother.

Well, it would be interesting. Friend? She hardly knew the woman. But that could be changed. Something about Em Harris drew Kay towards her. She had saved her brother, but that wasn’t the only factor.

She stroked Virgil’s hair and let her thoughts take her.

-o-o-o-

“Oh, c’mon, you have got to be kidding me.”

Kay peered around the door of Em’s room. The woman was sitting up in bed glaring at her tablet.

“In no way is that a plausible argument, Scott Tracy. Not in a million years.”

She couldn’t quite hear her brother’s answer.

“Well, I prefer a little sense over a lot of fantasy.” More strong, but unintelligible words from the tablet. “Yeah, well, that’s a fool’s argument.”

Kayo blinked, suddenly glad she had left Virgil down at the cafe getting them coffee.

“Fine. Be that way.” Em caught sight of her. The frown turned immediately to a grin. “Hah! I have re-enforcements! Kayo, come and tell your doofus of a brother that ‘The Force’ is not the answer to everything.”

Another blink and a sigh of relief. “You’ll need to speak to John about ‘The Force’, though you may want to book yourself out for a day or two, he has a ten thousand word essay on it.” She waved a hand in the direction of the tablet. “The reason sits before you.”

Em snorted. “Yeah, well, this one can rave about Star Wars as much as he likes. Trek still trumps it.”

And yes, she had her arms crossed in front of her and the glare was back.

“You definitely need to speak to John. He’s been a Trekkie all his life.”

“Kayo, there is no way you are teaming those two up.” Scott’s voice was small coming from the tablet’s speakers, but his tone was still alarmed.

She stepped into the video pickup. “My dear brother, I will do what I need to do.”

He glared at her. “Han Solo could so kick Jim Kirk’s ass.”

A snort. “Don’t aim your arguments at me, Scott. Remember the Spock vs Chewbacca vs Virgil debate?”

He shut up, but Em straightened up next to her. “Oh, I’d like to hear this one.”

She grinned. “Again, you should speak to John and start with the Kirk vs Picard vs Scott discussion. It is the first in the series.” Her grin widened as Scott groaned.

“Okay, that’s it. I don’t need to listen to this. You ‘girls’ can go play now. I’m going to go and watch a real movie.”

To Kayo’s surprise, Em stuck her tongue out at her brother. “See you when boredom strikes.”

He grunted at her, but there was a glint of humour in his eyes and he smiled just before he cut the connection.

Kayo stared at the tablet a moment before turning her gaze to Em. “He been bothering you?”

The doctor grinned. “No, he is rather entertaining when he wants to be.”

A raised eyebrow. Oh, yes, the Scott Tracy charm was well at work. Kayo took a seat beside the bed. “And how are you, Em?”

The grin faltered, but stayed in place. “As best I can be. I can’t ask for more than that.” She straightened. “How is Virgil?”

Okay, so Virgil was going to be a deflection from her own issues. “You can ask him yourself.” And on cue, her fiancé knocked gently on the door, three coffees in a cup holder in one hand. “I bring sustenance of the gods.” He held up a large paper bag. “And muffins.”

“Yes, there are three members of our relationship. Myself, Virgil and coffee. Coffee gets him on early mornings with no competition.”

“Hey.”

She smirked. “Em, this is my fiancé, Virgil Tracy. Virgil, this is Em Harris.”

Virgil fumbled the muffins into Kayo’s lap as Em held out her hand. “Nice to finally meet you in person, Virgil.”

“Likewise. I hear you’ve been saving the hospital staff from the cranky Tracy.”

A smile. “He’s been entertaining.”

Virgil deposited the coffee tray on her bed table and handed one first to Em, then to Kay before taking the last one for himself and grabbing a chair. “That is not a word I have heard in relation to a convalescing Scott Tracy, ever.” A sip of his coffee, and, yes, there was that expression she only saw at one other time.

There was definitely a third member in their relationship.

Kayo placed the muffins on the table. “I hope you don’t mind us dropping in unannounced.”

“No, you are welcome. I’m happy to have the company.” She placed the coffee back on the table, untouched. “Actually, I was going to contact you.”

“Oh?”

Em turned to Virgil. “You were injured about six months ago?”

Virgil froze, suddenly wary.

Em held up her hand. “No, don’t worry, I haven’t been spying on you or anything. Scott gave me a little detail.”

“He did, did he?”

Uh oh. She reached out and placed a hand on Virgil’s knee. “He didn’t say much, love. Just that you were injured six months ago and your ribs were broken.” She looked back at the doctor, whose eyes had widened. “Em ascertained most of that herself anyway.”

Brown eyes hit pale blue. “How?”

“By watching you. It is subtle, but you are favouring your right side, even now.” Virgil self-consciously straightened and a faint wince flickered across his face. “And there you have it.”

-o-o-o-

She watched the man slump slightly in defeat. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be intrusive, but I want to help. I don’t know enough detail as yet, but I would like to assess you and see if something can be done.” She lowered her voice a little. “You shouldn’t have to be walking around in pain all the time.”

Her eyes darted between the couple. There was no way she was going to admit that she and Kayo had planned this. When Kayo had asked for specialist recommendations, Em had simply volunteered herself. Sure, she couldn’t practise from a hospital bed, but she wouldn’t be here for much longer and Virgil needed help.

It was the least she could do.

But Virgil was eyeing Kayo. “See a specialist in the morning, huh?”

Kayo didn’t flinch, her expression remained the same. “I didn’t lie.”

“I didn’t say you did.” He sighed. “Fine. What do you want me to do?”

“I will need your medical records at some point, but in the meantime, if you could give me some background, it would be a start.”

So, for the next fifteen minutes she learnt about how the two rescue operatives had fallen off a mountain and Virgil had gouged himself up his right side. With prompting from Kayo and with the room’s door secured, he unbuttoned his linen shirt and she got an eyeful of the massive scarring down his right side.

“My god, Virgil.” Okay, it wasn’t professional of her to say such a thing, but bloody hell. There were scars on top of scars. How much did this family have to pay to rescue all those people? She swallowed. He was staring down at her, an oddly hurt expression on his face. Shit, she should know better, sitting here with both her legs missing. Crap, damn...oh, hell. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” And suddenly there were tears on her face. Shit, not now!

“Em.” There were hands on her shoulders. “Take a deep breath.” And that same man, the man with all those scars, was looking at her with kind, calm eyes. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

No, she wasn’t okay. She was far from okay. Losing it in a simple consultation? It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen worse. Look at herself for example.

Was that sob one of self pity?

Screw it.

“I’m sorry.” She took that deep breath, another, and forced it out with a trembling sigh. “I’m okay.”

He was rubbing her shoulders gently. Kayo was pouring a cup of water.

Mortification set in. Oh, god.

Kayo handed her the drink and Virgil sat back giving her space. She took a long drink and hid behind the plastic cup.

She cleared her throat. “So, I guess I shouldn’t consult while in hospital.” A half-hearted smile.

“It is completely understandable.” His rich baritone spoke only to reassure. She could imagine him using the same tone while rescuing terrified people.

Was she terrified people?

Maybe she was.

“Though I have to say that isn’t the reaction I’m used to when I take off my shirt.” There was a lopsided smirk. “I guess my bikini days are over.”

It worked. She couldn’t help but smile just a little. If only it hadn’t been at his expense.

“I can help you.” She forced strength back into her voice. She was Em Bloody Harris the survivor. Get over it already. Another deep breath. “We can at least start some scar massage and I will look into exercises that might help. I presume you had some exercises prescribed?” He nodded. “If you could give me the detail, I’ll look into alternatives. I have no doubt you’ve kept up the routine?”

“When not interrupted by call outs, yes.”

“Well, they don’t appear to be working as well as they could. Give me details and I will adjust the prescription accordingly.” Another breath. “After I’m out of here.” A forced weak smile.

He reached out and touched her hand. He was a very tactile man “Thank you.”

“It’s the least I can do.”

He frowned. “You don’t owe us anything, Em. You don’t have to do this.”

She looked up at him. “Kayo and Scott weren’t the only people you saved from that hole, Virgil. I have the right to thank you and I will do so in the best way I can.” She straightened her spine just a little. “Even if I have to conspire with your wife-to-be to do so.”

And that did it. A small smile spread slowly across his features. “I’m going to regret this aren’t I?”

He eyed Kayo and she smiled smartly back at him. “Possibly.”

Pushing back the chair, he stood up. “Okay, with that I’m making a strategic retreat.” He held up a hand as if to fend them off. “Thank you, Doctor Em. Your conspiracy worked, I will do your bidding. Kay? You and I will have words later.” The words were serious, but the tone was light. When Kayo’s grin widened into a laugh, Em found herself smiling.

“I will be with Scott, likely commiserating, if you need me.” And buttoning his shirt, he left.

-o-o-o-

End Part Four

Part Five

[mademoiselleseraph]

12th Perigee's Eve with Some Minor Celebrities

A very belated secret santa gift for the @hiveswapsecretsanta2018 and @the-bisexual-dumpster about Charun, Chixie, and Cirava spending the holiday together and being best buds

~~~

Charun was running late, but when weren’t they running late? They supposed it was a small price to pay for looking nice.  They knew looking nice for them meant looking like a disaster to others but it was typical for -- what did people call them? -- oh yeah, avant garde types.  They were so avant garde. The avant-est of garde. Yeah.

They had already combed their hair (just to muss it up just right), brushed their teeth (doing what they could to dull their fangs), and washed their face (and applied some blood based paint to the sides of their mouth and one of their temples).  Next step was to say goodbye. They patted the shell of their lion-faced snail lusus, Speedy, promising to be safe. Then they went to the ventriloquist dummy they found one day and had a strange attachment to though they could not, for the life of them, remember where it came from or when they first saw it, let alone what species it was supposed to portray.  Some kind of demon thing? Maybe. They gave it a strong hug and gently placed it back down on the floor. Finally, they went to the wall.

The dummy always gave Charun what a friend of theirs would describe as “weird fucking vibes, man lmao.”  Looking at its glassy eyes and painted smile unsettled them. It gave them a jittery giddiness for pain and destruction that itched and disoriented.  There was a wall in the cave that had the opposite effect. The words scrawled all about in various shades of blood had a somber, melancholy look, but filled them with hope.  They ran a finger under the words where they seemed to start.

“Let it be known before all else,” it read, “that there is no sin in wanting to live.  Second, that to help instead of harm one’s fellow troll is nobler by far. Third, that worth and character cannot be determined by blood.”

And it went on.  Their favorite part of it was the tale of Twelfth Perigee’s eve.  This figure and his group traveled by day as often as they could, shielding themselves from the harsh sun with parasols, cloaks, and scarves.  But the Twelfth Perigee was the darkest of all perigees, and one could could walk freely without fear of burning on that one day. They celebrated the ease of their burden, baking sweet cakes for the orphans and sharing cordial among the adults.

And then they remembered the sweet cakes.  They had baked them in a fit of inspiration from the ancient scribblings to take to their friends for their Twelfth Perigee’s Eve get-together.  Oh right, they were really quite late now. They put the still warm cakes into an insulated bag, and then into another insulated bag to be sure they were kept warm, and then in a basket for that rustic charm.  They slipped on a coat, shaped to look like it had odd growths under the material and decorated with scrap metal, and headed out.

Meanwhile, Chixie was worried.  She was often worried due to various factors, mostly having to do with cameras and what they would capture and what others would do with it.  But it wasn’t entirely about that this time.

Her worrying was a major reason her friends agreed to meet at her place for Perigee’s Eve.  That way no one would catch her walking to anyone’s hive and start rumors that would convince her more powerful and more obsessive fans to take out the competition in gruesome ways.  Would that happen? No way to say for sure, but she’d rather stay on the safe side.

It must have been around the fifth time she looked out the window in the span of twenty minutes when Cirava called to her from the couch.

“Chix, I’m gonna need you to calm down,” they said.  “This isn’t the first time they’ve run late and it won’t be the last.”

“I know,” she replied in as un-snippity a manner as she could.  “but it’s been a while since you got here and you never know what kind of creeps are out there or what they’re seeing or what they’re saying.”

“Are people really watching your hive to see who comes and goes?”

“It’s not like I’m that hard to track down and it’s not exactly difficult to get into the bronze side of town.”  Her breathing quickened and her face contorted in panic as she continued: “And you know whatever they write about me, he’s gonna see it, and --”

“Chixie!”  They clamped a hand on her shoulder, trying to snap her out of it.  “This is ultimately your place so you’re gonna do what you’re gonna do.  But when you get worked up like this, you get agitated, then bitter, then hopeless, and that’s about when you tend to hit the bottle.”

Her shoulders drooped and she sank into the couch under their arm and squeezed the hand still holding her shoulder.  They were a wispy thing and by all logic their bony limbs should have hurt to be held in, but nothing could make anyone feel safer.

“I don’t mean to cross any bounds by sounding all conciliatory and shit,” they continued, “but you said you were tryna cut back, so I figured we should at least wait til Charun gets here.”

“You’re not crossing anything,” she insisted, hugging them back.  “I know you’re not meaning it like that, and I appreciate you trying to help.”

“While we’re at it maybe we could not talk about him today?  Whenever he gets brought up, you seem to feel worse, and I know I don’t have any fond memories of the guy.”

“Yeah.  I could use a break from even thinking about him.  When do you think Charun will get here?”

And just then there was a knock at the door.  Speak of the devil.

Chixie opened the door and drew Charun into a warm hug.

“I know I’m late...” they mumbled.  An unfinished thought, but soon to come again.

“Oh, we’re just happy your safe!” Chixie chirped.

“You had her worried sick, dumbass,” Cirava joked.

“...but I brought food,” they concluded, holding up the basket.  “Cakes for everyone.”

Cirava took the basket to the table and opened the insulated bags.

The lovely smell hit Chixie’s nose instantly.  “Chocolate?”

“And raspberry!” Cirava murmured, mouth already full of a bite.

“Glad you like ‘em...” Charun droned on.  “Made plenty…. Have ‘smany as you’d like….”

They tactfully did not mention the lack of cordial in respect for Chixie’s little problem, or the fact the inspiration came from a wall someone had written on in blood.

They talked fans, making sure to exclude him as promised, and the pressure of fame, and lusii of course.  They were still young after all. Eventually they stumbled on the subject of Chixie’s lovely home and decorating.

“Yeah, I normally don’t get too festive,” she admitted, “but I wanted to go all out for you two.”

“It’s….” Charun mumbled.

“Bitchin’,” Cirava stated.

“....Pretty,” Charun concluded.

She swelled with pride, took a deep breath, and let herself process that pride.  “Yeah, it’s not too shabby,” she said. “Actually, I think I did a great job!” It felt good.  It felt true.  None of that coy oh, you bullshit or false modesty.  She didn’t have to pretend around them because they knew it too.

Her hive really was decked to the nines.  Tinsel garlands, evergreen wreaths, the bones on the mantle, a roaring fire, candles, and of course the behemoth leaving with its own decorations.

“Why is that even a thing?” Cirava asked, gesturing to it.  “Like how did that start? It’s not entirely sanitary.”

“Oh, I know this one!” Chixie said.  “It’s excellent fertilizer. It used to be that you’d keep it in the hive so no one could steal it, and you’d put it on your crops through the planting season and they’d grow like crazy.  The decorations started with cloves and evergreen twigs to make it smell better.”

“And the bones…” added Charun, “...were good for crops too…. But also… after you suck the marrow out… you can string ‘em up like windchimes….  Scares off some aggressive species... if you live out in the middle of nowhere….”

“Speaking of aggressive species,” Cirava noted, setting up their husktop, “you guys wanna shout out to my fans with me?”

The others agreed and sat on either side of them as they got the microphone ready, put on their camera face, and hit record.

“Hey all you funky little weirdos.  I’m taking a break from streaming to spend the holiday with some dear friends, but I’ll be back the day after tomorrow.  Thank you so much for all the love and support, and I’ll be sure to link in the description where you can listen to some of my fresh beats til I get back.  But hey, from me and mine to you and yours--”

And then they all said, more or less in unison, “Happy Eve!” and waved at the camera. Cirava shut it off and posted the video to their chittr and other social media accounts, then put the husktop away.

And with that out of the way, and some touches of worry as to what her fans would make of it, Chixie decided it was best to break out the punch.  She made it in advance and left it to chill and had completely forgotten it. That must have been Cirava’s doing, she realized, keeping her mind on other things and away from the drink.  Though she restrained herself and made it significantly less boozy than she usually did, and apologized if that made it taste funny.

“Actually,” said Charun, “I think it’s… better.”

And she flashed a quick but genuine thank-you smile.  She never really drank it for the taste before.

And they went on like that.  Cirava and Charun passed a pipe between them, offering to Chixie.  She only took one hit, not wanting to dry out her throat. Cirava, on the other hand, blew all manner smoke rings and swished their hand in the smoke to make blurry semblances of shapes.  Charun tried to trace abstract outlines of them with their own finger. Something about it gave Chixie a cheery sense of ease that was quite rare to her. She asked Cirava if the case for their husktop was soundproof, which they confirmed, and she suggested they all put their palm husks in with it.

“So….  What was that about?” asked Charun.Chixie had the beginnings of a mischievous little smirk at the corners of her mouth and replied, “How about singing some carols?”

“Um, are you out of your gourd?” Cirava shot back.

“I already plugged the TV and anything else that might be bugged.  And besides, what’s Twelfth Perigee’s Eve without a little illegal activity?”

“We should steal…” Charun trailed off, “from highbloods!  And leave shit… on their lawnrings.”

And after some scared looks from their companions, they took it back.

“Nah…. You’re right… that’s a death sentence…. Let’s just sing some songs.”

Chixie started with the old familiar melody:

“Oh, merry moon

Lend me your tune

For on my pipes to play”

And then Charun in a surprisingly graceful baritone voice:

“And may the lonesome

Find a home

On this most holy darkest day”

And they both looked to Cirava waiting for them to join.  Eventually they caved.

“They killed him

And they cursed him

But it’s said he’ll come again”

And all of them in unison:

“So merry moon

Lend me your tune

To welcome an old friend”

And they sang songs about respite and recovery and joy to be found among friends and a fruitful new sweep with burdens lifted.  Songs that were outlawed and had to be sung in complete secrecy for fear that they could start a riot. Songs that made one feel like an honest rebel just for singing.  Man, Twelfth Perigee’s Eve carols are hardcore! Well, maybe not outside of that context.

And hours stretched on and on and the three friends drew closer until crammed together on a single couch cushion.  The smiles were genuine and the hands gestured naturally as they spoke about what happened sweeps ago and what might in the sweeps from then.

The softest, weakest bits of sunlight slipped in through the shades as dawn broke, getting a gasp out of Chixie.

“I didn’t mean to keep you out so late!” she apologized.  The light was dim enough to walk in but highblood customs involved drugs and destructive raiding well into the morning.  As one could imagine, it wasn’t safe.

“You’re fine,” Cirava said.  “Cool if we crash here?”

“Sure!” she replied.  “I just have the one ‘cuperacoon though.”

“Cirava can take… the couch,” said Charun.  “I just need… some pillows….”

“Well, actually, if you two don’t mind, maybe we can share it?”

“You sure…?  That wasn’t...virgin punch… it was still spiked….”

“Yeah, Chix, you really okay with this?  We can sleep out here.”

“I’m sure!  If you don’t want to, you don’t have to, but it’ll probably be much more comfortable.”  There was a slight pause as she gathered up the courage to say, “I trust you guys.”

That came as a pleasant surprise to both of them.

“Alright,” Cirava said, followed by Charun some time after.

They barricaded the doors, not that it would really stop anyone, but it did make them feel a little better, and Chixie led the way to her respite block

There they took their waking clothes off and realized just how wonderfully not-awkward it all was.  At no point did they feel like they should be ashamed or that they shouldn’t do it. Though it did get them all cracking up about a conversation they had earlier that sweep, about how if they couldn’t fill their quadrants in adulthood, they’d somehow find each other and pail.

“I really hope that’s not the case,” Cirava said after a good chuckle, “for your sakes.  I wouldn’t want either of you having to fill a bucket with my ugly mug.”

“That’s what…” Charun replied, “...paper bags are for…!”

And there was another round of hearty laughter as they all squeezed in together.  Admittedly, it was a tight fit, but not uncomfortable. Three kids in one recuperacoon.  That would have been some kind of safety code violation if there existed safety codes to violate on Alternia.  Besides the basic “do not fuck with the drones” but that was more common sense.

They realized just before drifting off that they were all holding hands.  And that morning with its cloudy skies and lazy sunshine was the most restful sleep any of them ever had.

[providentially-demonic]

Never Book a Gift Horse...

@chantillyxlacey Happy Birthday to an awesome friend! I hope you like your little gift.

You asked for a MSA fic love and I hope this provides...

There was a strained silence at the cafe where three men sat under the umbrella of one of the outdoor tables. Well, three men and a dog that wasn’t a dog. Even the waiter was trying to be inconspicuous, with the amount of tension hanging in the air around one small table and four beings who might or might not have been what they seemed to be.

Two sat so close together on one side of the small table that their thighs touched and the dog had stationed himself right in front of their feet, opposite the single figure who sat alone on the other side of the table, idly playing with the straw of his iced tea.

Water slapped softly against the pilings of the boardwalk that supported the cafe, an audible reminder of the danger here.

With a glance around to be sure the waiter was out of earshot, the dog spoke. “May I remind all of you we are under truce. Lewis, that means stop acting as if he’s going to grab Arthur in the middle of a public place. Arthur, that means you stop jittering like you drank an entire case of red bull, and—” The dog paused and even though he was hidden under the table, they could all feel the gimlet glare he’d fixed on the man across from him. “You keep your oath, sworn on your honor.”

Arthur jumped and Lewis reached out to rest a hand on his forearm where it lay on the blue patterned tablecloth.

Calder leaned sideways just enough to meet the red eyes glaring at him under the table. “You know well enough, mutt, that I’d no more offer t’ break truce than the blue terror would be askin’ me t’ join your little team. Where’s she got t’ anyways, lurkin’ in the shrubbery t’ throw horseshoe nails at me again?”

“Vivi is not here,” Mystery assured. “Nor does she know that we are meeting with you. So you need not fear her lurking to chuck things at you.”

“So then what’s got y’ conspirin’ without her?” Calder leaned back in his chair, eyes calculating. “You’re the one callin’ for this meetin’. What’re y’ after of me?”

Lewis shifted and pushed his sunglasses back up on his nose. “Um...”

Arthur grumbled under his breath. “We— we need a favor. And we thought you might be able to help with the problem.”

Lewis looked sideways, tapping his fingers nervously on the tablecloth. If anything, he seemed more reluctant than Arthur to be here.

Mystery chuffed under the table. “Arthur told us of your vast library. We were hoping you might be of some help in acquiring a book we have had no luck finding through other means.”

Calder lifted his head, nostrils flaring with a startled breath. “Not that I’d mind helpin’ you, but I reserve the right t’ refuse you access t’ some tomes. They are far too dangerous for any t’ have.”

“Wouldn’t that include yourself?” Lewis retorted, stung.

Calder’s look was withering. “I’ve had most for longer than any of you have been alive. Dinna take me for a fool. I’ve had them warded by every magic I could beg, steal or borrow, t’ keep them safe in me library an’ outta any hands, includin’ mine own. I’m nae a power-mad idiot, like some o’ me kin I could name.”

“Peace,” Mystery barked in irritation. “We are under truce. Stop baiting each other and get down to brass tacks!”

Arthur jittered a leg nervously. “It’s nothing like that. It’s just a book we’re having a really hard time finding a copy of. It went out of print, back in the eighties, I think. And well, I know it’s an outside chance, considering most of your books are... magical... or not in english at all, but we thought maybe you might know someone who might be able to get a copy.”

“Nothin’ dangerous, then?”

“No!” Both Lewis and Arthur answered at the same time.

“Nothing like that, I swear,” Arthur continued, lacing both metal and flesh fingers together on the table. “It’s just the first book in a series Vivi loved all to pieces when she was younger. We saw one come in the bookstore she works at and she grabbed it up.”

“We found her early next morning, it looked like she’d been reading all night,” A smile graced Lewis’s features. “It’s been the first time we’d seen her so happy and relaxed in a long time.”

Arthur plucked at the tablecloth, looking anywhere but at Calder. “Her birthday is coming up and we’ve been trying to collect the rest of the series for her. They’re like super rare or something. It took a heck of a lot of searching E-bay and used bookstores but we found all of them but the first one.”

Mystery took up the thread of narration. “That one, we have been unable to find, not for any price. It seems to have vanished entirely. I even went so far as magically searching libraries within this and then next four states to look for a copy.”

“Plannin’ on returnin’ t’ your ancestor’s roots, as a thief and trickster, then?” Calder asked with an amused smirk, one eyebrow quirked up.

Mystery flattened his ears, but answered candidly enough. “If it were the only possible solution, yes. I would have assuaged my guilt with a large donation to the library I had taken it from, but I was unable to locate it at all.”

“Seldom is a book that hard t’ locate, less’n it be magical, but I mayhaps know some that could ferret it out.” Calder leaned back in his seat and looked thoughtfully up at the blue and white umbrella that sheltered them from the harsh Texas sunlight. “Me, I find it odd that you’d be askin’ me of all folks, t’ aid in looking for a book for her.”

Lewis simmered, but Arthur was the one to rest a hand on his arm this time. Lewis heaved a put-upon sigh, but covered Arthur’s fingers with his own.

“Calder, I know none of us are on the best terms, least of all you and Vivi, but I’m asking you to please put things aside and help us find the book,” Arthur pled earnestly.

Calder brought his gaze back down to meet Arthur’s eyes. His mouth twisted in a rueful smile, and he folded his hands on the table. “Only you, lad, could ask me such a thing an’ get away with it.”

“Does that mean you’ll help?” Lewis grumbled, his hair flickering a little.

“For Arthur’s sake, aye.”

“What’s your price?” Mystery suddenly piped up from beneath the table, poking his head out to fix Calder with a cool gaze. “Something I know well is that fae of any kind are seldom ones to do anything gratis.”

This time it was Calder who showed a flash of temper, irritation carving lines at the corners of his mouth. His eyes narrowed, pupils contracting to points. “I already said I’d do it, cùilean, or d’you still think me likely t’ go back on me word?” His accent thickened, a measure of how annoyed he was. “Or d’ye ken that I’d be tryin’ go back on me sworn oath that I’d not try to take what isna mine?!”

“Mystery!” Arthur’s tone was sharp. “Did you forget everything you just said about baiting people?” His ire was definitely up, heterochromatic eyes snapping as he turned back to Calder, but he took a deep breath and made a visible effort to calm himself, though his hands still jittered nervously on the tabletop. “I— I don’t want to take advantage of you or your— fondness— for me. I’d— I’d rather it would be a— a fair trade and not one of us owing the other.”

Calder drew a deep breath, tightening his hands on the edge of the table. The last thing he wanted to do was frighten Arthur, and his flash of temper had already made the lad twitchy enough. “I said I’d help you find it. I were nae asking anythin’ from you.”

“Please,” Arthur pled softly. “I don’t want us owing each other.”

It was all too clear what he meant, that he didn’t want to owe Calder any favors. For all that it rankled, it was the way of things now.

Calder scrubbed a hand through his tumbled hair, blowing a few black strands out of his eyes. “I’ll think on it, lad, an’ come up with what you can do t’ repay me in turn. Not—” He shot a glare at the simmering ghost beside Arthur. “ —That it’d be any sort o’ favor. Belike it’ll be somethin’ material, an’ nae some rarity.” He offered a painfully wry smile. “As me honor’s at some question, I’ll swear by Daanu an’ Epona that it’ll be nothin’ like a favor.”

Mystery nodded. “In the names of the goddesses, then. No favors nor boons owed.”

Calder leaned back in his chair, again toying with the straw in his glass of iced tea. “So then, tell me ‘bout this series o’ books the blue lass favors so highly. Iffen I dinna know them, there are others I can ask after them from.”

With the tension eased somewhat, the waiter dared to timidly refill glasses and ask if they were ready to order. After they had ordered, Lewis pulled a somewhat tattered paperback from his vest pocket and laid it on the table, turning it so the cover faced Calder.

The each-uisge leaned forward to read the title and the author’s name.

Without warning, he tossed back his head and laughed aloud, a deep rumble of startled amusement. “It’s nae a wonder why your fiery lass likes these books, nor, I think, why it’s so hard t’ find ‘em.”

He traced the looping letters of the author’s name with a fingertip, a smile curving his lips. “There’s a fair reason for that. This lass, she knew things, saw things, most mortals canna. While her mysteries an’ tales were made up, whole-cloth, the characters she peopled them with, well— they were dead-on representations o’ some of the fae folk she’d spent her life watchin’ with the sight. She knew them, weaknesses an’ foibles, strengths and magics. It— well, it caught my kin’s attention, y’see, that a human writer knew us so well, spun us wholesale inta the worlds she created with words an’ paper.”

Lewis looked like he didn’t want to ask the question, but it escaped him anyway. “What— what happened to her?”

“Nothin’ ill,” Calder assured with a smile. “Far as I know, she spends her days weavin’ new tales for her new kin, the lords and ladies o’ the Summer Court, for it was one o’ them what wooed her away t’ share her gift o’ words with the fae. She is pampered an’ well-loved by the Court an’ the elven knight what wedded her. Like all the Summer Court, she’s oft t’ be found in places where the summer lasts most the year. She goes by another nom de plume these days, when she sells her works in the human realm. I’d fair be surprised iffen your lass didna have some o’ her newer works at home, considerin’.”

“Is that why the books so hard to find?” Arthur asked, reaching forward to pick up the book. “It took a lot of leg-work (figuratively speaking) to search out the ones we did find, and well, you can see, they’re not in the greatest of conditions sometimes.”

“Ah that’s b’cause some of the fae are prone t’ making a game o’ collectin’ her books, ‘specially them what directly inspired some o’ her characters. We’re a vain lot, an’ hungry for pretty words. An’ iffen those words are about us, well then...”

“Do you think you could help us track down a copy? We just need the one.” Lewis accepted the book back from Arthur and tucked it safely inside his vest. Now that he knew the fae considered it a sort of prize, he wanted to keep it safe and out of sight.

“No,” Calder chuckled.

Lewis felt his hold on his temper slip. “What do you mean, you swore to help!”

“Lewis,” Arthur tried to calm him.

“I mean,” Calder replied, still smiling. “That there’s nae a need. I dinna need t’ track one down for you, seein’ as I have the whole lot in my library.”

“You do?” Mystery put in, sticking his head out from under the table to side-eye Calder.

“I do.” Calder chuckled again. “As I said; fae are vain for lovely words, an’ when the words are about yourself, well, that makes them all the sweeter.”

“Wait, are you telling us you’re in one of the books?” Arthur blurted in astonishment.

“That’d be tellin’.”

“So, are you willing to let us have it?” Lewis asked.

Calder turned a softer smile on Arthur, “Well, now I already promised, did I not?”

Right about then the waiter returned with their food, and forced them to pause while he put the plates in front of them. By the time he had left them again, Arthur was visibly jittering, this time with impatience. “Well?”

Calder grinned wolfishly around a bite of his sandwich. “I’ll do y’ one better. I’ll let you replace any o’ your more ill-used copies with mine, an’ give y’ the first one. I know magics that can restore the ones y’ trade me.” He laughed. “After all, I had t’ learn ‘em t’ keep my library safe.”

“You’ll do that?”

Nodding, Calder grinned again. “It’ll be my pleasure t’ help y’ lads out.” He nodded his head toward the bulge in Lewis’s vest as Lewis bent to slip Mystery a piece of his chicken. “Just pick a day an’ bring along the ones you’re wishin’ t’ swap out.”

He looked surprised when Arthur seized his hand and shook it, “Thank you! When you figure out what it is you want in return, let us know, I promise we’ll find a way to get it.”

Mystery looked a little agast. “Arthur!”

Calder smiled and squeezed Arthur’s hand. “Told y’ I’ll think on it.” He glanced down at the dog. “Iffen I were anyone else I could do him a mischief with such a reckless promise, but I’ll nae.”

After they had agreed on a time to meet, Arthur and Lewis had gone to take care of their part of the bill. Mystery lingered while Calder finished the last few sips of his tea leisurely.

“Why?” The kitsune asked at last. “Why are you so willing to help with this project, to the point of giving away one of your own books?”

Tipping his head to one side, Calder regarded him with a sly grin. “Oh, c’mon now, you’re far from stupid. How better t’ know I got one over on her, than t’ know I had me hand in this grand gesture of love they’re schemin’?”

Mystery silently vowed that Lewis and Arthur must never tell Vivi just how they had managed to get the rest of the series for her.

*****

Vivi’s birthday surprise was indeed a smashing success, and she unleashed a resounding shriek of absolute joy when she opened the rather heavy box Lewis and Arthur presented her and flung herself at both of them, peppering their faces with endless kisses over and over. She squealed happily as she unwrapped each copy from the tissue paper protecting it and gave each of them a fresh kiss for each book unearthed until all of them lay in a neat row on the table. She hugged the first book to her chest throughout the rest of the party, very careful not to get any of the cake and ice cream near it.

Both of her loves got very enthusiastic thanks from the small blue bundle of unbridled joy, both at the party and much later that night.

She did not see how both of them paled when a tiny origami figure of a black horse slipped out of one of the books as she was proudly shelving them a few days later. She absentmindedly tucked it back in the book and continued shelving, oblivious to the heavy silence hanging in the air.

Lewis swallowed and hoped he.could sneak it out later when she wasn’t paying attention.

[crimsonrevolt]

Congratulations Snow you’ve been accepted to Crimson Revolt as Dirk Cresswell!

↳ please refer to our character checklist

It’s always so amazing to me that so many people choose to come back to Crimson and it’s such a joy to see your Dirk come back to life in your app! I know I speak for many when I say that you took a character that none of us knew much about and brought with him a personality that we couldn’t forget. It’s so good to see you again and that you’ve found the time to come back to the rp! Snow, your reason for choosing him, in particular, made me emotional, and I can’t wait to see you write him with a fresh breath of life! Hopefully, you’ll be able to carry him on a new and beautiful journey as the war progresses and affects him. I can’t wait to see you and Dirk back on the dash! 

application beneath the cut ( tw: brief mentions of death )

OUT OF CHARACTER

INTRODUCTION

Snow, 21, she/her, gmt+3

ACTIVITY

im going to well and truly throw myself into my studies this semester, and i’m also running an rp with a friend of mine on tumblr, so i don’t know how active i’ll be honestly. given how much i already love and adore every member of this group and all your characters, i’ll be able to find time. 6 or 5 out of ten, i think.

TRIGGERS

*removed for privacy

HOW DID YOU FIND US?

a promo blog about a year ago lol. i found this group way before it even opened but only applied like, months afterwards.

WHAT HARRY POTTER CHARACTER DO YOU IDENTIFY WITH MOST?

hm. my answer differs every time based on my mood i think. like i dont think there’s one character i really truly identify with? probably percy tho lbr.

ANYTHING ELSE?

nope.

IN CHARACTER

DESIRED CHARACTER

dirk cresswell. well, a revised version of him.

FACE CLAIM

ezra miller. listen i tried to change his fc but ezra is dirk and dirk is ezra the line has been blurred for ages now it is beyond my control.

REASON FOR CHOSEN CHARACTER

i’d thought of coming back with a different character and had gone through a host of them in the open tag. i’d considered someone on the other end of the spectrum to counteract the experience i’ve had playing dirk. i’d thought of playing someone balanced and sophisticated and well-mannered, someone with a little less emotion and a little more poise. someone who is not dirk, but dirk seems to have stuck himself all the way down to the roots and i can’t seem to get him out.

i cannot properly express in words how much i love this character. i’m floundering for the right ways to lay it out. he is a myriad of unlikely contradictions – kind, and just, and cruel. he is optimism and realism hand-in-hand, but he is just as much that as he is full of lies. half truths, denials, secrets. he is honest and genuine, and his intentions are as pure as those of a noble knight but he strikes quick, and fast, and merciless, with the harsh finality of an execution.

he loves openly. he is never shying away from expressing his love and devotion for his friends and family. he is never afraid of what his love for them would do to him, or to them – no, he is afraid: the fear of losing someone who’d rooted themselves into the crevices of his life is numbing, almost all-consuming, but dirk has never known how to not love, how to not be so open towards them so much of the time.

and even then, it feels, to him, as though he is never without something to hide. as though he is never not carrying a secret of some sort, as though there is always something he is carefully folding to the side throughout his life, as though he has never been fully honest with another person before. the thing is, he is always open about the good parts of himself – he is loud and obnoxious about his love and his optimism, he is blazing and boisterous about his successes and achievements. he is almost always alone in his losses. he has become terribly adept in being both honest and not, at once.

he does not forgive. he is fearful of trust, of betrayal, of being left in the dust once again. he loves, he loves, he loves, but he does not trust quite as freely.

i’d focused much too much on his guilt and misery when i had played him last, but i’m hoping to be able to focus more this time on some good things in his life. which will probably not last very long lbr but im excited to see for myself.

PREFERRED SHIPS // CHARACTER SEXUALITY // GENDER & PRONOUNS

dirk is an utter, unbelievably obnoxious, hopeless romantic. he is nineteen years old and had known he is gay for years, the wizarding world being far more relaxed about such things than where he’d come from, but only in the last few years or so had he become relaxed enough to be open about his sexuality to more than just the people he trusts. the idea of finding a committed, long term partner – male partner – is only just beginning to settle itself within him. he is only now beginning to truly see himself with a future in perhaps a domestic fashion and, despite the times they live in, he is positively giddy. it’s embarrassing. really.

dirk is a cis male character, though i’d really like to see how he would interact with a trans and/or nonbinary character and how he might find solace with someone who, while perhaps not exactly like him, falls far from the conventional lines drawn up by the social structures they live in.

CREATE ONE (OR MORE!) OF THE FOLLOWING FOR YOUR CHARACTER:

traits:

+ TALENTED:

Dirk’s magical talents were difficult to miss, even to those who really, really tried, and it was not entirely for the considerable amount of bragging on Dirk’s part – though, arguably, that was a large part of it – but his hands, deft with potions and charms and defensive spells, were quick to catch people’s attention, and keep it. his exceptional dueling skills had not gone unnoticed, either, not by his teachers, and certainly not by his pureblooded schoolmates, who have repeatedly tested his abilities first hand.

+SOCIABLE:

Dirk is That One Kid that knows everyone, and who everyone knows. He joined every extracellular activity the school had to offer at one point or another, he never missed a chance to hang out and have fun, and he was always interested in meeting new people and making new friends. His easy humor and confident attitude drew people to him and relaxed them in his company, his optimism and cheeky remarks making him an uplifting presence to have around. He is secretive, however, keeping his emotional troubles and inner demons far away from prying eyes, even those he considers close.

-TRUST ISSUES:

Dirk has been shown love and taught not to trust it. a parting gift, from his mother, one could say. he finds difficulty – immense difficulty – in sharing his troubles, or his secrets of any kind, with anyone. he loves and he cares about his friends and there is very little he wouldn’t do for them, but trust is something that is difficult to come by, for him, and it is something that frustrates his friends to no end.

-ARROGANT:

Dirk has an exaggerated sense of his own abilities. He is talented, yes, anyone would be hard pressed to deny that, but he tends to – overestimate, what he can do. It could also be put down to his perfectionist nature, that he would bite off more than he could chew and simply expect himself to rise up to the challenge.

he is so confident in the caliber of his character, in his own moral righteousness, in his ability to tell right from wrong. he believes so completely in aversio and what they stand for and in the choices he’s made, that he is right, that he is good, that what they’re doing is entirely justified to a morally correct eye. his arrogance and his pride, just as his loyalty and his bravery and everything good in his heart, have led him down a path of darkness where the torch of his anger has lit the way so brightly he cannot see the blackness of his surroundings. he is a morally grey character with a black and white mindset.

——

Mockblog: dorkcresswxll.tumblr.com

IN CHARACTER QUESTIONNAIRE

♔ If you were able to invent one spell, potion, or charm, what would it do, what would you use it for or how would you use it? Feel free to name it:

he squints, tilts his head, leans back on the back of his feet. “just one?” he asks, and straightens up as a thought occurs to him. there’s the beginning of a grin pulling at his lips, something of boyish mischief coloring his features. “something to, to take care of pureblooded bigots. y’know, take care of ‘em. actually, all bigots, y’know, all at once.” he shrugs, hands shoved into his pockets, boyish grin spreading across his face. giddy. “i’d call it the purifier, just for kicks.”

♔ You have to venture deep into the Forbidden Forest one night. Pick one other character and one object (muggle or magical), besides your wand, that you’d want with you:

“Sal!” a burst of laughter, involuntary, and he leans forward. “did you see her swing that wretched bat of hers? i’d take her with me to that Snake Supreme if i could, she’d bash his head in and cuss up a storm and everything, she’s good at making a big fuss.” the fond gleam in his eyes is unmissed by any, there is pride in his voice when he speaks of her, of his sister. he does not attempt to hide it. “and – and food for the object, i think, that’d work out pretty well, yeah?”

♔ What kinds of decisions are the most difficult for you to make?

“when to take a bloody break.” he huffs, annoyed, and perhaps a touch embarrassed. “i still don’t know how to do that.”

♔ What is one thing you would never want said about you?

that he is weak, that he is lesser, that he isn’t good enough. that he is just as bad as those he fights to rid the world of, that he is worst. that he is amoral, immoral, that he is unjust and evil and simply a murderer.

he hums. thoughtful. for a moment. “that i can’t take a loss well. which, mind you, is ridiculous – i never lose anyway!”

WRITING SAMPLE

it wasn’t difficult to get the old man to sign his letter – it wasn’t difficult, he’d not needed any convincing, all dirk had to do was thrust the form under his nose, pen in hand and a flat look upon his face: stiff, clunky, the way he only ever is with his father anymore.

the man looks up from the book between his palms, his sharp nose striking, his slanted eyes lifting towards his son. there is a crease between his brows as he pulls the paper from the young boy’s hands, eyes over ink before he asks what this is.

“it’s a permission form.” he sounds nervous. he hates it. “for hogsmeade.” he says, “you’re supposed to sign it.”

and the man signs it. just like that, he reads the paper and he signs it – he hangs on to it for a moment before giving it back. there is something there, something he wants to say, but his father was never good with words and so he says nothing. dirk is pathetically grateful – he never seems to say the right thing when his dad is involved, either.

dirk takes the paper and shifts his weight between his feet and isn’t sure if he should just leave – there is something there he wants to say, as well, but he can’t quite grasp the words and so he mulls about for a moment more, shifting the paper in his hand, before he nods a quick ‘thank you’ and scurries away.

he stuffs the paper in his pocket as he walks away. he stuffs his guilt down too, and tries not to think about it – he’d been avoiding his dad all summer, had only spoken to him now when he needed something, and not for the first time he wonders how it’s gotten this bad. he wonders when it’s gotten so tense between them they can’t share more than a few words before something made someone snap. he wonders what made it so, what caused this wide, gaping chasm to stretch between them – but he can’t think about that without thinking about emptied rooms and funeral marches, so he shakes his head quickly and bursts into Sal’s room.

They have much planned for the rest of the day, and there’s only so much of summer left for them to enjoy.

[fontainebleau22]

For the Ask Meme, could you do Faraday's flashback scene in Six of Bones?

Interesting choice: thank you!

Background: this is an AU basedon China Mieville’s short story The Dowager of Bees, which is about aprofessional card-player who is inducted into the secret of the Hidden Suits,and goes on to make a terrible mistake. 

Writing this in Faraday’s pointof view was surprisingly rewarding: I don’t find him a particularly attractivecharacter, personally, but he’s in my view one of the two most clearly-definedof the Seven, with a lot of personal traits to work with. 

‘When were you inducted?’ asksRobicheaux, fingers smoothing the edge of the card delicately. 

Josh keeps his voice low.‘Four-five years back. 

On reflection, this may be toorecent; I’m not sure how old Faraday is supposed to be in 1879. 

In a bar in Colorado. I might havebeen playing dumb. Though I don’t reckon any of ‘em was what they seemed.’ It’sa scene he’s taken out and relived, over and over, but the shock, the oceanicstrangeness, never fades. 

‘Oceanic’ is my favourite wordin this whole fic. I am very proud of it. 

Josh had been playing young andgreen that night, not knowing then just how young and green he really was; as astrategy it usually worked well – he’d brag and draw attention to himself,playing eagerly and poorly through the first hour of the evening, establishinghimself as a mark, then as his opponents drank and tired he’d step up his gamelittle by little, marvelling aloud at his luck, and if it all went right he’dwaltz away at the night’s end with a hatful of coins and notes, too quick tocatch. 

I can absolutely see a youngJosh doing this. 

So when the dark bearded gentlemanin the fancy coat clapped him on the shoulder and invited him to join theirgame ‘out of the crush’, Josh took it as an opportunity. 

The Easterner ushered him to asmall back room where two other players were waiting at the table, a burly manin a fur jacket that made the sweat pour off Josh just looking at it, who gavehim a long stare, and a little shrimpy fellow, no better dressed than he washimself, looking like his ma’d be coming to take him home any minute. 

He looks like Brooklyn-era SteveRogers, that’s what I’m trying to say. 

They were a strange bunch, but Joshreckoned he was as good as any of them, so he smiled all sunny and told themhis name like he was just some dumb Irish kid. The shrimpy guy smiled back andsaid, ‘Howdy’, then he picked up the deck and did something smart with hishands, cards fluttering like birds’ wings and then snapping back, and Josh musthave been sitting with his mouth gaping for real, because the man in the furhuffed a laugh and rumbled, ‘Play, not show.’ 

I tend to introduce OCs in apretty cavalier way, making up what I need to know about them as I go along (asI’m sure is obvious), and these three are just here for the purpose of thegeneral weirdness of the story. I have a strong visual impression of them,clearly. The man in fur is called Russe, but I don’t have names for the others. 

Losing his first few hands wasn’thard, and it gave him time to size up his companions; he could tell straightaway they were all class players, and friendly enough too, the little guy in aflashy way and the Easterner keen on the sound of his own voice, though the manin the fur jacket didn’t do more than laugh at the others’ jokes. He wasputting down some clear drink from a bottle of his own, and when he saw Joshlooking he pushed the bottle over for him to try, and damn it if one gulpdidn’t have him choking and his eyes pouring; the man laughed fit to bust,though he drank it down without a flinch. 

OC was running away with me abit here. 

And after a while Josh began to get the ideathat the Eastern fellow and the shrimpy guy knew each other a mite well too,like they maybe hadn’t just fetched up at the same table by chance, and thoughthe one with the beard was better dressed and more smooth-looking, he seemed todo what the other told him. 

Likewise. I have no idea whothey really are, but you can just see the weird relationship between them. 

All things considered it wasn’t somuch of a surprise that when Josh began to warm up slow and subtle, making hisgame a little more competitive, he just kept on losing, not every hand, butmore than he won, slow and steady, even though in the end he was concentratingfiercely, never riding his luck. He might have had a trick or two of his owncould have sweetened his hand, but he was bright enough to see what a bad moveit would be to use them at this table, and he had to reckon that if he came outof the night at a loss, it would be a fair price for the lesson he’d taken. 

Then it happened. The Easternfellow was dealing, halfway through a hand; Josh was giving himself one morechance to make good on a pair of Nines. As the cards flicked out he caught aglimpse of a red back that should have been blue, and a cold chill gripped hisstomach – surely he hadn’t let slip one of his little insurances? Could he havebeen so careless? But no, the card flipped face up, and the man in fur hissedbetween his teeth as the Easterner swore. 

It was a Ten, but not a card he’dever seen, its pattern ten yellow chain links on a dark background, fourinterlinked on each side and two alone in the centre. The links were heavy,with a cunning highlight that made them seem to shine: he knew without beingtold that they were meant for gold, thick and unbreakable, the little figure 10in each corner wound around and through with a tiny golden chain. 

The Dowager of Bees has closeand loving descriptions of all the Hidden Suit cards, and I wanted mine to beequally detailed. 

Must be a joke, though a damnfool one: Josh looked at the Easterner and growled, ‘Tryin’ to make a codof us?’ 

The shrimpy guy raised hiseyebrows. ‘He don’t know.’ 

The Easterner looked pained.‘Congratulations,’ he said to Josh. 

Josh pushed his chair back, showingEthel handy at his side. ‘What’s your game? Don’t take kindly to fake cards anddumb tricks.’ 

‘Calm,’ rumbled the man in fur. ‘Nocall for that: no tricks here. This is a hidden suit. Ten of Chains.’ 

Josh looked from one to the otherof them, searching for a hint of trickery or a glimmer of humour, but saw onlyseriousness, and perhaps a hint of concern. ‘Hidden suit?’ But even as he saidit, he felt a little slipping rightness at the idea: for those who know.Those who play. ‘Tell me,’ he said, crowding back to the table again, andthe atmosphere relaxed. 

Right. This was one of the twoproblems at the heart of this story. The Dowager of Bees is a modernstory, so when a Hidden Suit comes up, the players in the story either get abook down from the shelf with rules of card games (if they’re in a professionalestablishment), or just look it up on their phones, and while the card is onthe table, the rules appear in the book or online – they disappear when thecard does. But while there were some printed compendia of card games in the1860s, obviously no saloon would have a copy, and relatively few people wouldhave been able to read complex rules. So I had to suggest a way that playerswould just intuit the rules, that they would appear in their minds as theyappear in a rulebook, for the duration of the hand. 

‘Well now … ,’ said the Easterner,and so Josh had been initiated, had become a real cardplayer, had heard for thefirst time about Bees and Chimneys and Teeth, Dowagers and Detectives, and whatmight or should happen when you found them. 

All Hidden Suits from the story;the Four of Chimneys plays a critical role in the original. I havered overwhether Detectives were appropriate as a rank for the era, and to begin withsubstituted Margraves instead, but the Pinkerton Detective agency had beenfounded by that time, and the word and concept were in common use, so I changedit back again. Elsewhere in the fic I mention Crows as a suit, and those I madeup for the purpose of the story. 

Too soon, the man in fur grewimpatient. ‘We play this hand out,’ he commanded. Josh’s gaze refocused onRobicheaux, who was watching him attentively. ‘Drew my third Nine, though itdidn’t come to matter none.’ 

‘So you paid a forfeit?’ 

Josh’s face closed and he jerkedhis chin curtly. ‘All of us, then and there.’ 

And this was the second problem:how to make the two induction stories distinct. I decided to go with actuallydescribing Goodnight’s forfeit while keeping Josh’s vague: it mirrors the inductions in TDoB in some ways, which arealso varied: one forfeit is doing a favour you don’t want to do for the winner(and we never find out what that was), while another is claiming any one objectin the room which you can name, and we see that played out. 

‘Bad?’ 

He shifted uneasily. ‘Heard ofworse.’ Many things more painful had happened to him since, and some moreshaming: it had left no visible trace, and the matter had never gone beyond thewalls of that small room, not from him nor the others. 

China Mieville, Embassytown(when Avice goes to be a metaphor for the Hosts): ‘What occurred in thatcrumbling once-dining room wasn’t by any means the worst thing I’ve eversuffered, or the most painful, or the most disgusting. It was quite bearable.It was, however, the least comprehensible event that had or has ever happenedto me.’ This was a deliberate nod to another of his stories (and not plagiarismat all. It is an intertext, an homage…) 

He’d kept an ear out after, knowingwhat to listen for even if it was told different ways, but no one had ever toldhim his own story in any form he could recognise. In time since he’d picked upenough from hints and rumours, of other hands and other penalties, tounderstand that he’d fared lightly that night. Josh Faraday always was a luckyguy. 

Yes, well, you don’t want todraw a Scissors card, do you? Or Teeth.

[showingthroughtome]

somewhere in between - two

January & February 2012

“I'm trying to save us all from getting hurt with all that flailing you're doing.” She giggled. “Can't you just do the running man or something?” She started the classic dance move, probably looking dumb herself since she was also hopelessly uncoordinated. “You have less of a chance to hurt others with this one.”

“Like this?” He copied her movements exactly. And it turns out, he didn't look half bad doing it - well, not as bad as he could have.

Emptying the contents of her bottle into her mouth before answering, she chuckled, “Magnifico!”

“My bilingual beauty!” Harry grabbed her by the wrist and spun her around, then wrapped her in a drunk hug. With arms tight around her middle, he whispered, “Happy birthday.”

read below - story page - character page

January & February 2012

So it turned out that Lenny had a boyfriend. A really nice, chill boyfriend who came around occasionally but made her so fucking happy. He was older than her by kind of a lot - five years - and he had an IQ no one around the shop could come close to, but none of that ever showed. What showed was his ability to make everyone laugh with his dorkiness or smile over the way he brought Lenny her favorite tea every Saturday shift.

Not long after Harry became aware of Chris’s existence, he let go of the tiny crush he held for Lenny. He still found her insanely beautiful and just plain lovely to be around. But he could easily shift what he felt for her to just friends - he hadn't gotten in deep enough yet for it to be irreversible. Four months into working at the store and he’d call her one of his best friends. Well, her and Toby. Niall, one of his oldest mates, kind of paled in comparison to these two (but not really - they were just the shiny new toys is all).

It was mid-January, and Harry had been off his shift for two hours with no reason to go home. His schedule was still the same - Monday and Friday 10:30-1:30, Tuesday and Thursday 4-9. Lenny had to switch her morning slots with Toby so she could accommodate her 11am French 102 class, but she worked those days from 1:30-4 so Harry still got to see her before he was off to his own classes.

On this particular Monday, Harry's three hour lecture on screenwriting had been cancelled so when it was time for him to leave, and he saw Toby ordering a pizza and plugging in his Wii, he knew he wasn't going anywhere.

“Toby, man, you have to let me win this round!” Harry leaned to the side as he raced around the track in Mario Kart, a big fat 5th place staring him in the face at the top corner. He figured if he tilted his body maybe his Yoshi would go a little bit faster, take the turns a little bit smoother.

“Sorry, bro. Even if I try, you still have to beat four computers which I can't see you doing.”

Harry scoffed at the insinuation. He was sure with enough determination, encouragement from his good friend, and a lot of leaning, he could at least place in the top three.

With only one lap remaining, he knew that wasn't going to happen. And when Lenny came into the break room after her shift, standing in front of the tele to grab a slice of pizza, Harry somehow fell back two more places.

“Thanks a lot, Len.” He huffed and threw his controller on the couch beside him as he watched the winning sequence - Toby's Mario on the highest tier of the winner podium.

“What did I do?” The redhead questioned with a mouth full of pizza, truly confused.

“You got in my way while I was trying to beat Toby's ass.”

Lenny looked over at Toby then to Harry then back to Toby again. She swallowed her bite and was about to apologize when Toby leaned forward, placing a hand to shield his lips from Harry and whispering not so quietly, “Don't worry. He wouldn't have done it anyway.”

“Oh, I know. He’s absolutely shit at video games.” Lenny mimicked Toby with the fake whispering and giggled along with him as Harry crossed his arms and pouted his lips.

“At least I try.”

“Aw, that's right, mate.” She ruffled the very top of Harry's curls before going to the end of the coffee table, away from their mess and dropping her heavy satchel, taking a seat next to it. “You know whose ass is getting kicked? Mine. By French.”

As Harry clicked on a new round, Toby, being the caring lad that he was, asked in the most sympathetic tone, “Oh no. How come?”

“Grammar in another language is harder to comprehend than I ever expected. I thought Syntax II would be killing me but no bloody way.”

Hearing the pure distress in her voice, Harry felt something pluck at his heart. He had come to know a lot of things about her - she was a free spirit but took school extremely serious. She wanted to do well and make everyone proud. When she saw that as a thing she would fail to do, she freaked out. Finals week last semester was absolute hell for her. Even though he couldn't possibly understand how just two weeks into a new semester anyone could be frowning like that, he accepted it when it came to her.

“Do you have any flashcards?” Harry asked, taking his eyes off the screen - he was already in 8th place so it wouldn't really matter if he gave up anyway.

“Do you not know me at all?”

“Give ‘em here.” Harry stretched a large hand in her direction, wiggling his fingers until a stack of about 30 cards were placed there. Harry turned towards Toby. “Win by yourself for a while, okay?”

He slid off the couch and sat opposite Lenny at the coffee table. The smile she offered at his gesture reached from ear to ear and lit up every other feature on her face. It gave him a sense of pride that he could elicit that reaction from her, just because he offered some help.

Before they could start, Toby paused his game and grabbed their attention. “What are we doing for your birthday this year?”

“What do you want to do, Tobs?” Lenny returned, shocking Harry because he thought Toby had somehow found out about his birthday even though he was sure he hadn't mentioned it yet.

“It's not my birthday.” Toby beamed with silliness in his tone.

Ignoring that sheer adorableness, Harry blinked and realized he didn't know when Lenny's birthday actually was. “Wait, Lenora, when is your birthday?”

“The thirty first.”

“No way! Mines the first!”

“What?” Lenny seemed just as shocked and overjoyed by the fact as Harry was, moving to sit on her knees and up straighter. “So, you're like 364 days older than me?”

“That sounds like the right math to me.” He scratched a finger against his temple and ran over the numbers in his head. “I can't believe I've known you for this long and haven't even asked your birthday. I'm so neglectful of you,” he pouted in jest.

Lenny nodded ferociously and wiped a single fake tear across her freckled cheeks. “I'm hurt.”

Toby chuckled at that, fondness in his eyes for the two. “We should do a joint thing for the both of you and just make it extravagant as fuck.”

Lenny and Harry looked at each other and then at the same time exclaimed respectively,

“Love the way you think, mate.”

“You have a beautiful mind.”

“Aw, I love you guys.” The giggly friend closed his eyes and declared warmly, fidgeting with the bottom of his triangle patterned shirt. With every tiny shake of laughter in his shoulders, the curls he had styled upward would bounce on the top of his head.

“Toby, quit being so cute in here.” Jen stuck her head in right as the words left his mouth, cutting off the chance for Harry and Lenny to return their love. “I can hear your giggles all the way out here.”

Harry dropped his jaw, wondering what kind of nerve it took to tell someone as bright as Toby to simmer down. “Let him be.” He patted Toby's knee comfortingly.

“We like it.” Lenny snapped at her friend who disappeared behind the swinging double doors before hearing them out. She turned towards Toby with a smile, “But, we will plan at a later date. I have got to get this French past tense down.” She slammed a fist on her hellish looking textbook.

Toby agreed with a nod and pressed play on his game. Lenny gave Harry the go ahead, prompting him to hold up the first flash card that had vous on one side and avez on the other. It took her a few hints from Harry so by the time she got the right answer, she felt like a cheat and made him put the cards on the do not know pile even after he suggested putting it on top of the small almost there stack.

---

It was a rare day that Lenny was in the store and not working or studying. It felt bizarre for her to be there and not be on duty or to have a book open somewhere nearby. But it was her day off - Wednesday - and she just had her first oral exam of the semester - three weeks in - so she felt like she deserved some time off.

She didn't even mean to come to the shop that day until Jen called her and demanded she sit with her for her five hour shift. Lenny wanted to refuse, she contemplated going to her uni to hang out with Chris in his Chem Lab, though, she knew if she did she'd probably just break something.

So instead, she walked into the shop on a Wednesday and felt kind of out of place until she saw two familiar faces behind the counter.

“What are you doing here?” Parker questioned as Lenny got closer, brash and blunt as usual.

Jen, looking up from her favorite magazine, Cosmo, cheered, “Because she loves me!”

“Sure do.” Lenny confirmed and hopped on the counter, swinging her legs as they hung off the side. “Plus, there’s something very urgent I need to be told.”

“Oh, great. So by extension me too?” Parker rolled her eyes as she continued her retagging of returned vinyl’s.

Closing her magazine, Jen sighed, “You’ll get a kick out of it.”

Jen and Parker had more tension between the two of them than any of the other coworkers. It was probably because of how many shifts they had together even though they couldn't be more dissimilar. Still, half of the time, Lenny thought the bickering was out of love. Jen would probably admit it after a few drinks and Parker after a couple of shots.

The loud slamming of the break room door drew all of their attention to Brando exiting in a long, dramatic, black trench coat. “Lenny! What are you doing here?”

“Just seeing my ladies.” She shrugged in a sugar sweet voice.

“Rad.” Brando nodded and made a beat on the counter as he passed, walking to the front door. “Going to get pizza. Anybody want anything?”

“Breadsticks.”

“Cheese slice.”

“Breadsticks.”

They all had no problem requesting something knowing that Toby would get it for them for free. The manager at The Pizzeria was good friends with Tiff so he never cared if ‘her kids’ got something.

“You got it.” He was out the door as they threw their thank you’s at him.

“So what's up, kid?” Lenny ironically called Jen as she looked around to find five people perusing the rows and rows of vinyl, old and new.

“Okay,” Jen started and then, giddy as hell, gushed. “I hooked up with one of Harry's bandmates last night.”

Lenny had to do a double take. “What?”

“Last night I went to a club and ran into him. I recognized him from that New Year's Eve party.”

Oh yes, the party Lenny missed out on because she went to a different one with Chris and his science friends. It wasn't a bad time at all and she only started regretting having gone after a couple of days at work where all everyone could talk about was how Louis did a keg stand that songs should be written about and how Harry and all his friends started the longest game of beer pong this world had ever known.

She tried not to be bitter or at least, she tried to hide it with an arm wave for Jen to continue the story.

“So he recognized me obviously, because like, how could he not?” Jen flipped a brunette lock over her shoulder and pushed her chest out. “We got to talking and sure, he's broody as fuck but he’s fit enough to make broody okay.”

“I have to see this.” Lenny had never known Jen to find melodrama attractive, making her want to see this bloke's face ten times more than she normally would. She can't recall it from the few shows she's been to - too focused on the wild, erratic behavior of the lead singer.

“We’ll stalk him on Facebook after my shift… if he even has one. He doesn't seem like the type.”

Parker, still labeling, snorted, “Hipster.”

“Alright, Buzz Cut McGee.” Jen rolled her eyes but then laughed when Parker flipped her off without turning away from her work. “Anyway, three drinks in and he didn't seem like he wanted to take me home. I was laying out all my flirty lines and batting my eyelashes for fuck sake.”

“What? How could he not be fucking you right then and there?” Parker gasped at the thought sarcastically. After finishing the last vinyl, she hopped up next to Lenny and made sure that no customers were approaching the registers - not trying to seem too unprofessional as she listened in.

“I don't know, Parks. I was stumped too... Until, he went out for a smoke and asked me to join him. I knew I was getting laid then.” Jen started smiling wider, giddier than Lenny had seen her in a long time. “One cigarette later we were walking to his flat two blocks away.”

She crossed her arms triumphantly and paused. Lenny knew she was doing it for dramatic effect so she leaned forward, showing interest, and nudged, “Okay, and?”

“And it was the best sex of my life. I mean, guys, it wasn't just toe-curling-good but crying-as-I-came-good.” She threw her head back like she was about to experience it all over again.

“Like actual tears?” Lenny squinted, because that didn't sound real. Her eyes had probably watered once or twice during sex but that was more due to a tight feeling she needed to adjust to than anything else. It wasn't as if sex with Chris wasn't amazing or anything - her toes curled quite often - but tears? That seemed like something you saw in porn and porn only.

“Streams, baby. Streams.” Jen emphasized and stared straight into her young friend’s eyes. “I couldn't even leave when it was over because my legs were shaking so good.”

Parker and Lenny turned towards each other, both incredulous and asking at the same time, “So good?”

The synchronicity of it got them all chuckling. Through it, Jen replied, “I'd say so bad but I would never associate that word with last night. I don't even know what's wrong with me because I slept over and then we had sex again this morning.”

“Excuse me,” Lenny had to be hearing things. “You don't have sex with people twice. That's your rule.”

Ever since Lenny had met Jen, one night stands had strictly been her thing. She made it a point not to see a guy twice, which she considered “getting attached”. Lenny tried asking questions about it once, but Jen shut them down with a simple why tie myself down in return.

Jen hit herself on the forehead and ducked her head, shame for breaking her sacred personal promise.

“I once had that same rule. Until Louis.” Parker shrugged.

“Maybe this guy is your Louis.” Lenny awed at the idea of that. Louis and Parker, even though unofficial, were almost too cute together. “Oh my god, that's so sweet!” She cooed.

“No, it's not. I don't want to have a Louis!”

“Well you won't be getting one.” Parker jumped back down from the counter and scoffed. She checked her hip with Jen’s as she grabbed her tea from the counter. Jen gave her a side eye in return and glanced over at Lenny who shrugged, not knowing what to say to that. “Listen, Jennifer.” Parker cleared her throat after a sip. “I know one night stands can be great. Probably better than great. But if this guy is as good as you say he is, then just calm down and see where this thing goes. That's what I've been doing with Louis for the last year - seeing where things go.”

There was that soft side - that moment Parker came in clutch and made herself such a valuable member of the group. Even though she was sometimes a bit too rude, she knew what to say when Lenny didn't.

“Well I don't know. I might not see him again...” Jen trailed off, examining her fingernails to disguise the smile she couldn't get rid of. “He got my number though.”

Lenny slapped one hand to each cheek. “Oh my god, I cannot believe this. You're going to see somebody more than one time. Have you guys seen any flying pigs lately?”

“Shut up. I might not... but maybe.” Jen shimmied a shoulder and then when Parker made a gagging noise, she shimmied even harder right against Parker's shoulder.

Lenny laughed loud at their antics and watched as they bickered for a few minutes before she thought of her own shift mate. “Are you going to tell Harry?” 

“What? Tell him what?”

“That's you're possibly maybe seeing his friend.”

“Fuck no. Why would he need to know?” Parker answered for Jen, getting a fist bump from her - the pair were so hot and cold, Lenny could never keep up.

“I don't know. I was just thinking of him.” Lenny shifted her eyes away and down to her beige flats, not sure why the question was so weird to the girls.

“I don't think me and Harry are close enough for him to care but maybe if you start fucking this guy you'd have to give Harry a call.”

“Maybe Chris first though.” Parker added, tapping a thinking finger against her chin.

“Oh yes, then I'd get a chance to snatch Chris right up.” Jen rubbed her hands together maniacally.

“Should I be alarmed that my best friend is waiting for me and my boyfriend to break up so she can seize the day?”

Parker shook her head back and forth. “Not at all. You should feel powerful.”

And Lenny agreed with that - she definitely should. She had a guy even Jen would settle down for.

All at once, a customer came up to the register, prompting Lenny to slide off the counter, and the front door bell dinged, Brando carrying boxes and boxes of pizza and breadsticks in. Lenny rushed to his side and took the top three, even more thankful she came in on her day off when she smelled the tomato sauce.

---

“Shut up, guys! They'll be here soon!” Louis yelled over the music blasting and the people talking in the break room. Lenny laughed, because of course Louis was loud enough to be heard over all that. Harry shook his head and smirked as they got closer.

The two met outside of Dream Records on January 30th at 11:30pm just like their friends told them to. It was obvious they were being thrown a joint birthday party but it was also quite plain that Louis - who had masterminded the whole thing - was trying to make it a surprise.

Lenny didn't know how he could ever think they would assume it was anything but a party. Nevertheless, she worked on her surprised face for forty-five minutes while she was curling her hair after work.

“You even going to pretend to be shocked?” Harry asked her, right outside the door leading to a room full of all their friends.

“I'm going to try.” She threw a hand over her mouth that she had dropped open into an O shape, showing him all her efforts.

Harry chuckled. “Cheers. Let's go.” He pushed open the door and waited as everyone turned to find the two birthday people.

“Surprise!” Came out stuttered and not one bit in unison, yet amazing all the same. Everyone from the shop was there - even Tiff - and then a few extra people that Lenny recalled as friends and bandmates of Harry's who had stopped by the shop at one time or another.

She didn't miss the fact that Chris wasn't there, but she figured he probably wouldn't be when she first heard about the plan. He was likely still at the lab, doing something all chemical-y.

She bounded in the room anyway - shocked - and hugged Louis first. She then made her way around the circle, moving from Niall to Brando to Parker to Toby and finally, Jen. Harry followed behind, shouting thank you’s to every single one of them.

“Did ya know?” Louis asked, hope in his eyes and a beer in his hand that Tiff told them they weren't allowed to have in the store but often let slide for the right occasions.

Lenny, trying to keep a straight face, declared, “No way.”

“Not one bit.” Harry threw one arm around Louis’ shoulder and the other around Niall's.

“Nope.” Lenny reiterated, surrounded by the guys, still holding her expression strong until Harry winked at her, causing her lips to falter into a smirk.

“Liars!” Niall accused, looking over at Harry and then back to Lenny to double check their now full blown laughter. He acted upset for one moment before he mumbled, “Aw, that's okay. I told him you would've known.”

“It's hard to plan a surprise birthday party at the shop when we close at 11 and you guys get off way earlier in the day. If you guys worked until 11 then we could have just yelled at you when you got off and you wouldn't have seen it coming.” Louis rambled on about his woes with a half smile - the beer not allowing him to really be too mad about his failed efforts, or make too much sense.

“It's still great, man.” Harry squeezed his shoulder and then unwrapped himself from between the two. He reached over for a drink in the bucket of ice on the coffee table, pulling out an ale for Lenny.

“I really love it, Louis.” She gladly accepted the drink and popped the top off.

Louis gushed about how much he had loved them in return, how it was no problem to just ask everyone to come back to work a little later than usual and call up a few people he knew Harry was close with - because Lenny truly didn't have other friends, or at least ones that would come to this kind of thing. The three guys and three girls that showed up for Harry, that Lenny hadn't met yet, stayed in their own corner and talked amongst themselves, not really intermingling with the rest of the group. But when Harry greeted them, they lit up.

Lenny watched the way the friends interacted, wondering if she would be introduced as Brando and Jen argued to her left over what playlist to keep it on. Tiff walked over and weighed in, and in seconds, The Spice Girls were playing from the sound system.

Slowly, as if it couldn't be helped, people started dancing one by one. Toby was the first to start wagging his hips, then Niall started jumping around to Mel B’s voice. Tiff and Jen grabbed Lenny's hands and spun her around, right into her 19th year.

It became a blur from then on. Less than 15 people were making it seem like an actual crazy house party.

Lenny was laughing her head off watching everyone show off their own dance moves, and she almost fell to the ground at the way Harry swung his hips at her. The two of them spent three songs trading moves back and forth, imitating the other and then consequently making fun of each other.

Tears were in her eyes when Harry tried to roll the rhythm from one extreme of his hand to the other. “Harry! Stop!” She felt the ale tingling her lips and warming her cheeks - giving her even more of a blush than normal.

“What? You don't like this?” He attempted the smooth move again, failing miserably.

Lenny had to get him to stop - it felt like her civic duty to all who were witnessing it - so she reached an arm for both of his and pulled them down to his side. “Keep them here please.”

“Don't try to hold me down!”

“I'm trying to save us all from getting hurt with all that flailing you're doing.” She giggled. “Can't you just do the running man or something?” She started the classic dance move, probably looking dumb herself since she was also hopelessly uncoordinated. “You have less of a chance to hurt others with this one.”

“Like this?” He copied her movements exactly. And it turns out, he didn't look half bad doing it - well, not as bad as he could have.

Emptying the contents of her bottle into her mouth before answering, she chuckled, “Magnifico!”

“My bilingual beauty!” Harry grabbed her by the wrist and spun her around, then wrapped her in a drunk hug. With arms tight around her middle, he whispered, “Happy birthday.”

It was the first time they hugged like that - for longer than a second - and Lenny wasn't hating it. As a matter of fact, she found it incredibly nice how Harry’s chest was strong but had no issue making her feel cozy.

“Happy birthday.” She smiled and held on tight for a few seconds longer, pulling back slowly. “Well, almost. Because technically they planned all of this so it would be my birthday at midnight and not yours.” She stuck out her tongue.

Harry flared his nostrils at her and dropped his arms away, pretending to be hurt. “How dare you rub that in?”

“Maybe they'll throw you one at midnight tomorrow too and we can drink more beer.”

“That's not beer.” Harry clinked his glass bottle of Blue Moon against her empty Red’s.

“Close enough, mate.”

Harry rolled his eyes fondly at the determined-to-be-cool ginger. When his gaze landed back on her, it quickly shifted to somewhere behind her shoulder. His lips upturned on sight and out he shouted, “Chris!”

Lenny turned around right as Chris located them and started rambling the words, “Happy birthday. Sorry I couldn't be here on time. Lab all day and then a quick power nap that turned out to be hours longer than I expected. I got here as fast as I could.”

“That's okay.” She sighed a breath of relief that he showed up at all, giving him a quick hug. “You're here now.”

“Mate, you're here just in time.” Harry reassured him with a pat on the shoulder. “We were just having a dance off and Lenny was about to tell me how her ale was indeed a beer.”

“Oh, man,” Chris seemed regretful of what he was about to say to Harry. “Ale is a type of beer actually. It's just fermented differently than lagers.”

Harry shielded his face with both hands as the words sunk in.

“Why do you look sad too?” Lenny put a hand on her hip as she looked up at her boyfriend. “You are supposed to be on my side. It's okay to let Harry down.”

“Have you seen his face when he gets sad? It's heartbreaking!” Chris pointed as Harry uncovered his face to reveal sheer disappointment at being proven wrong. “See, I'm already feeling it.” Chris covered his heart with his hands.

“It's okay. I guess I can be wrong just this once.” Harry didn't like seeing Chris sad either apparently - their relationship was symbiotic in that way, Lenny was figuring out.

“This once?” She snorted. Harry was proven wrong in debates with her at least once a week and somehow he managed to forget that tidbit every time.

Harry ignored the question and simply finished off his beer, getting a laugh out of Chris.

“I'm going to get us more drinks.” Chris said as he kissed Lenny on the cheek and then rounded a few of her coworkers.

A drunk Harry watched him as he went and Lenny wondered how she was surrounded by people who were so mutually infatuated with one another. Harry must've felt himself being caught so he shrugged and simply said something Lenny had already thought. “I’m glad he made it.”

“So glad he proved me right.”

“Less glad about that myself.” Brando came up beside Lenny, not knowing what he was disagreeing with but saying it anyway. “Happy birthday you two.” He smiled and lifted his beer to cheers with them. Lenny and Harry both clinked their unfortunately empty bottles with his and said thank you.

Chris returned a second later and replaced their bottles with brand new ones. After twisting the top off, Lenny raised her bottle for a real cheers, then waited for the dancing to begin again. Egging on Brando when he started banging his head to Spice Up Your Life.

---

Valentine’s Day arrived before Lenny could even process the fact that she had a speech to give on February 15th - in French. Her Italian 101 class was picking up and Syntax II was getting harder and harder with every passing day. Her head was spinning, so that when the ‘day of love’ appeared, she wasn't ready for it whatsoever.

She was known around the shop as the girl who made cookies on days off just to bring them in the next day, or whip up a batch of cupcakes when something special was happening just to make her friends smile. On that particular February 14th, she came into her 4 O’clock shift stressed and empty handed.

Chris had already sent flowers to her dorm that morning - a dozen roses - and he knocked on her door with two cups of coffee, ecstatic that he had the entire day off. The way his face fell when Lenny told him that she had the exact opposite made her heart twinge.

It was just, she hadn't expected everything to happen so fast or for Chris to even get out of the lab that day. She never even considered asking for her shift to get covered at Dream. So, they drank their coffee, she ran off to her class, revised in the library, and only looked up at the clock at 3:38, rushing to make her shift on time.

Harry was ignored on her way past him to clock in. Jen was thrown just a wave as Lenny rushed back to the register.

“What's up with you?” Brando quirked a brow as a bundled up Lenny approached, out of breath and frazzled.

“I'm sorry I'm late. I was studying and the time got away from me.”

Harry lifted his wrist to check his watch, then looked at her like she was crazy when he said, “It's literally 4:01.”

“I know. But it's not the five minutes early that I normally like to leave myself so it feels late to me.” She bent down and unzipped her heavy as hell backpack. Of all the books in there, she only needed the one French book but it felt wrong not to have it full. Huffing as she straightened back up, she found Brando joining Harry in the incredulous looks.

“Calm down, love.” Brando instructed. “It's fine.” He rubbed his hand through his nonexistent hair, straightening the millimeter of scruff his head had - him and Parker were in fact twins after all.

“Why are you so frazzled? It's Valentine's Day!” Harry nudged a fist against her shoulder as if to say buck up, be happy.

Lenny distanced herself from him as much as possible just so Harry couldn't do that again.

“I have a speech tomorrow and I didn't even start working on it until two days ago because my first Pragmatic’s paper was due on Monday.” She huffed, placed her heavy book on the counter behind Brando, and slumped over it - slightly overdoing the dramatics. “Everything's just getting away from me!” She screamed face down onto her book.

The shop fell quiet after that - except the John Lennon that was playing over the speakers and the sliding of records in their bins as people looked through them - still, somehow, too quiet without a response from either boy. Lenny lifted her gaze and turned around to find the them staring at her.

Brando pulled the stool right up behind her, and with caution, said, “Well just take this seat, let Harry do the check outs, and do your Lenny thing where you write an amazing speech.”

She agreed, “I do only need to write one more paragraph.”

“Get to it. I'll alert you if Tiff walks out.” Harry informed her with a wink.

Finally smiling, Lenny let the tension in her shoulders loosen just barely. “Thanks, guys.”

“Happy Valentine's.” Brando rubbed her on the back comfortingly as she began searching for the correct page. Grabbing his black, electric guitar from the stand that was a permanent fixture behind the register, he hopped over the counter. “Bye, Haz.”

“Bye, Brandy.” Harry, totally unbothered by anything as always, sung and waved a hand.

When it was just the two of them, Lenny could finally get back to writing - except she couldn’t focus on anything but the weight of Harry’s gaze. She ripped her eyes off the bullet points she had made earlier and raised a brow at him.

“So, I'm assuming you didn't make any baked goods today?” He asked cautiously. He didn’t want to trigger her but still hoped she had brought along some treats.

“No, Harry, I didn't.”

“I'm just asking.” He raised his hands in defense at her harsher than usual tone, mumbling, “You made cupcakes for my birthday.”

“Well, imagine those and pretend like you're eating them now.” She wasn't trying to be mean but she really didn't have the time or the energy to feel worse than she already did.

“Grumpy Lenny is not my favorite.” He pouted.

“I’m not grumpy. I’m busy.”

Harry hummed loudly, sarcastically agreeing and then nothing else was said between the two from then on. Harry checked people out as they came to the counter but otherwise, he was messing around on some kind of camera. Normally, Lenny would ask what he was doing exactly but she could hardly look away from the note cards she was writing her speech on.

Eventually, after almost throwing multiple pencils across the store and many more groans of despair, she finished the writing process with two hours of her shift to spare. She would've been done sooner if she didn't have to check conjugation and grammar and tenses multiple times using nearly every chapter of her book. She wasn't complaining though, because she was one step closer to not feeling so much panic in her chest. All she had to do now was practice it enough times until the pronunciation was spot on and the flow was fluid.

“Harry.” She called over to him sweetly, him leaning his long body against the counter tops and flipping through one of the books she kept there for people to read if they wanted.

“Yes, Leonard?”

“Will you listen to me practice my speech?”

He lowered the book enough so he could see her smiling up at him innocently, pleadingly. “Oh, so the Lenny I like is back?”

“The Lenny who needs you is.” She stood up and moved beside him, leaning with him. “I'm sorry I was being grumpy earlier.” Harry didn't move to say anything or accept her apology so she grabbed ahold of his elbow and shook, “I'm sorry I didn't make anything for valentines!”

He snapped the book shut abruptly. “And?” He shifted his green eyes to hers the slightest bit, not giving her full eye contact, but just enough to tease her.

“And…” she prompted.

Harry sighed. “And for not talking to me once in three hours? I get that you're busy but come on! Not even one how's it going over there, Haz?”

“Aww, I'm sorry, Harry.” Her heart warmed at knowing the main thing that had his lips in a frown was just the fact he wanted to talk to her and that she hadn't allowed that to happen. “How about we chat for the rest of our shift and then you stay until closing and help me practice?” That would give her two hours of practice unless they ran out of things to talk about and he let her begin running through her speech early.

“I don't know. I'd have to stay until eleven for you. And on Valentine's Day no less?” He grimaced like it was the worst possible way he could spend the night. Granted, it wasn't the best, but Lenny hoped maybe her presence would sell him on the idea.

Over the five months of working with him, she had grown to know him pretty well, and she had a solid backup plan to ensure his presence. “I'll order a Chinese takeaway.”

“Sold!” The words weren't even all the way out of her mouth before he yelled over her and turned right back into normal, happy, charming Harry. Just like that.

She picked up her cell phone immediately - because Tiff hadn't been out of her office in so long that Lenny thought she might have gone home - and called their favorite place, getting Harry the orange chicken he loved so much and herself the pineapple chicken he was always trying to steal off her plate.

A customer came up to the register right as she was hanging up and as a sign of their good will, she swooped in front of Harry and checked them out - all five 8-tracks and eleven vinyl’s. Whoever this person was, they were treating themselves on Valentine's Day.

“So what do you want to talk about?” She asked Harry after the customer left with a have a nice night, letting Harry sit on the stool as she stood at the register.

“Well…” He smirked like he was about to say something good. “I really really wanted to tell you about this horrible film a classmate showed in class today.”

“Harry! That's not nice. I'm sure it was just fine.” She took up for the person she didn't even know because she always felt bad for judging people's art - thinking how upset they would be if they heard. And how upset she would be if she heard someone talking rubbish about something Harry made regardless of how bad it actually was. Especially if they didn’t know anything about him.

Shaking his head, he began chuckling, “Three words: nude bowling sequence.”

“Go on.” She nodded and listened as Harry went on and on about this short film. He talked about every frame and every angle of the ode to bowling some guy made and thought was okay for their narrative piece. Various parts throughout made her laugh too hard and others were so unbelievably boring, but she listened anyway because Harry’s voice had a calming effect on her, and because, two hours later, Harry pretended to know French for her.

He watched her pace up and down the store for hours, reading the same six minute speech on French Government over and over again, nodding anytime she asked, “Did that one sound okay?”

At eleven o’clock, Louis came in and told them they had to go - not home but the hell out of there. Lenny decided she had done enough for the night and would just go in the next day hoping for the best.

“Going to see Chris?” Harry asked as they stepped out into the cold London night.

“If he's still awake.” Lenny pulled her coat tighter around her ribs and then reached for her phone, texting her boyfriend. She looked over to Harry, who was digging in his pocket for something. “Where are you going? Surely not to bed already.”

“Ummm, I don't know.” He found whatever he was searching for, pausing with a smirk. “I may actually have a date.”

“A date?”

“Well, a girl asked me if I wanted to meet up at this pub a couple hours ago. I told her I would when we were done so now I'm just waiting for a response.”

“Harry!” Lenny punched him on the shoulder. “You could've left me.”

He rubbed his arm, hurt, and then shook his head decidedly. “Nah, it's all last minute stuff. Doesn't matter.”

“You're insane, Styles.” She laughed, convinced, lifting her phone when it vibrated in her hand with a text from Chris reading: yes, please come!

“More like insanely awesome.” Harry removed his hand from his pocket and held it open in front of her - a small chocolate heart wrapped in pink foil in the center of his palm - beaming, “Happy Valentines.”

She bit her lip as she plucked it from his hand. Even though it was warm and probably totally melted from all that time it had spent in his pocket, she loved it all the same. “Happy Valentines!” She said, backing away with a smile equally as wide as Harry moved down the street in the opposite direction.

authors note: 

hahah this is so long. i am writing my longest chapters for this fic while writing my shortest ones for incredible. which, you should go check out if you havent. i swear its a quick read. the slowest reader on the planet could read the first two chapters of it in ten minutes. swur. 

anyway, last time i posted, i forgot to put a “read more” and almost died of embarrassment. something about having it all out there so readily kills my soul. if this doesnt work, ill never update again..... jk i have too much going on with these guys. 

please please please tell me what you think!!! my asks have been a bit silent which is okay but not very #inspiring. maybe once the chapters get more exciting, people will give me feedback?? fingers crossed. i mean, 

tell me what you thought of their valentines together!?!

thank you for reading!!!! thank you to ash, @what-comes-from-within for being such a kick ass beta. 

im posting a character moodboard and playlist soon so keep those eyes peeled. 

one day ill learn the art of not writing long authors notes. 

love love love you guys.

lauren xxxxx

[badgerpride96]

A Wild West Experience Part 8

Part 8 is here! If any of you watched The Long Night (one of the last episodes of Game of Thrones), first, congrats on getting through it, and second, I really like the idea of a whole part dedicated to the night before idea, so here, have my take on it. Hopefully I can do slightly better than the GoT writers XD 

Kelly ended up getting to the bar well after 2:00. Still wearing her nice dress, she tied the full kitchen apron around her waist and hurried behind the bar. 

“How’d it go?” Sass whispered to her as she poured Owen a beer.

“He’s coming, no more than two days. Probably less,” she muttered back. Sass swore under his breath.

“Now, have you grown to like me that much, Mr. Sasway?” She said quietly, sliding the pint down the bar to Owen. 

Elek huffed. “Don’t call me Mr. Sasway, reminds me of the schoolroom. How did it go with the Admiral?” 

“As well as can be expected, I suppose. He’s very efficient.”

“That’s him,” Elek said, heading off with a sausage platter for a table outside. Kelly smiled to herself and began taking inventory.

All day, patrons would ask her strange questions. How was she holdin up? How was the case lookin? Did she need anythin? Kelly wanted to tell them, “How do you think I’m doin? My husband was murdered, I’m accused, I standin trial for a sheriff’s crime. I need to win an impossible case; I need to find somewhere I feel safe.” But she assured everyone that she was just peachy. Word had spread remarkably fast in the small town of the Admiral’s involvement, and the impending arrival of the opposing sheriff. Even the bar girls had run out of any gossip but her. One of them even told her of a rumor that Sheriff Gio was helping with more than just her case. “What?! Who says that?” She demanded. The bar girl quickly assured her that no one of any merit believed it, and she would correct any who did, as it was unequivocally false.

The day seemed to drag. Sass mostly left Kelly behind the bar, while he did most of the cooking. There was little conversation to be had; even her regulars seemed to get quiet when she approached. She assumed that by now everyone knew that the opposing sheriff was on his way, and the trial imminent. Now that there was no mystery about the event happening, people were less inclined to be seen with her, lest the verdict be guilty. They all supported her, but were hedging their bets (in some cases, literally). It was a very lonely way to be supported, Kelly thought.

By closing, she was relieved to see the back of Owen, though he had been the only one to act as though nothing had happened. He tipped his hat to her, and disappeared into the night. She was wiping tables down with a rag, taking as long as was reasonably possible, when she noticed Sass leaning on the doorway to the kitchen.

“Are you trying to tell me to get on?” Kelly joked, still wiping. It didn’t come out as light-hearted as she had hoped.

Sass smiled. “No, I’m not. Come on, leave it. I’ll do it tomorrow.”

Kelly straightened up. Elek never ‘did it tomorrow.’ Not with the Goose. “Leave it?”

“Yeah. Come on to the bar. If you’re going to try and stay here, you might as well have a drink.” He saw her hesitate. “Oh, now, it’s just a drink. Are you really thinkin I’d do somethin unsavory?”

Kelly laughed. “I can’t imagine you bein unsavory, Sass. I just don’t wish to keep you here if you’d rather head on home.”

“Actually, I find there’s no place I’m wantin to be more.”

Kelly didn’t quite know what to say to that, so she didn’t say anything except, “Oh, alright.” Sass disappeared into the dry room for a moment, and reappeared holding a dark, rectangular bottle. Kelly settled on a stool, eyeing the bottle warily. “What’s that?”

“A while back, one of the guys Gio caught on bounty was transportin stolen bootleg whiskey. Rumor was, he’d pulled off a heist on the mob in Chicago to get it, and was hightailin it to San Francisco. This is the best stuff you can’t buy. We confiscated his cases and I took ‘em for special occasions.”

“You kept his illegal whiskey?”

“Kelly,” Elek said, pouring some sugar, syrup, and whiskey into two short glasses, “Haven is full of criminals. Of course I took the whiskey.”

“Does Gio know?”

“He’s never asked. Where’d you put the muddler?”

“On the third shelf next to the Rye. So he doesn’t know?”

Elek gently muddled some orange peel into the whiskey mix. “He know the crates never made it back to Chicago. The authorities comin to take the guy back never thought to ask for it. Not the cleverest boys. Now here,” he said, pushing her a glass, “try this.”

She took a sip. “Lord Above, but that’s delicious!”

“Oh good, then I’ll have one too.” Sass dropped more orange peel and simple syrup into a glass as Kelly laughed. “Cheers.” They clinked.

“So,” Sass said, leaning forward across the bartop from her. “Tell me about yourself.”

Kelly sighed. “Sass, I really don’t want-”

“No, not about the case. I heard nothin about your case all day.”

“Not about the case?”

“No, you. Who’s the girl workin behind my bar?” Sass watched her over the rim of his glass.

“Well that’s an awfully big question.” Kelly thought for a moment. “I’m an only child. My parents are back in Sheriff Jacob’s town. I miss them, we’re very close.”

“Did you go to school?”

“Yes, I adored it. I was too sassy though. I daresay my teacher was right happy when I got engaged.” She took a drink. “I especially liked grammar and composition. My teacher wanted me to be a writer, but of course, married girls don’t write. Or go to school.”

“Do you still want to write?” Sass swirled his glass.

“I don’t know. I’ve always wanted to be good at somethin, I guess. Writing seems like a good place to start.” She drained her drink and looked at him. “What about you? Who’re you, Elek Sasway?”

“Me? Oh, I’m borin. Born and raised in Haven. Parents got here on the same train as Gio’s, so we grew up together. Mine came from Lithuania, by way of New York. Gio’s maybe four months older than I and mostly what’s happened to him, happened to me. Except Mary, of course. Still not sure how he managed to marry the prettiest girl in Haven.”

“Are we a tad jealous?” Kelly teased, pushing her glass across to him. 

“Oh Lord no. He has his hands full.”

“Oh?”

“Well,” Elek said, muddling her another drink, “she certainly knows what she wants and when she wants it. She’s remarkably focused and bright, and none of this is to blemish her character. Mary is a wonderful woman. Gio loves her more than life itself, and I couldn’t be more thrilled for them. I was Best Man at his weddin, he cried through his vows.”

“And I assume you differ here in that you aren’t hitched?”

“Nope,” Elek said cheerfully, shaking his head. “Never really wanted to be.”

“Why?” Kelly genuinely seemed to want to know his answer, and not to be reprimanding.

Elek slid her newly refilled glass back. “I want to fall in love, get married, have a family, all that posh. But I need to be sure, y’know. I want to marry someone whom I trust; who can love the Goose and Pip like I do myself.”

He saw her smiling behind her glass. “Don’t say ‘that’s just like a man,’ please, I hear it enough.”

Her eyes widened. “Why would I think that? No, your reasonin is excellent. You know what you need, you’re not willin to jeopardize that.”

“Thank you.” Elek clinked his glass against hers.

They found themselves covering every topic people talk about late at night: a mix of hopes, fears, opinions and stories. It was the sort of conversation that was both extremely serious and utterly trivial, deeply meaningful to both of them and yet carelessly held. As the second drink came to a close, Kelly gazed down at her glass and asked, “Hey Sass? What happened to the guy transportin this whiskey?”

Elek was quiet, spinning his empty glass. Finally he said, “We gave him a trial. He lost, so Gio turned him over to the authorities from Chicago.”

“And then?”

He sighed. “And then he was shot. Probably by the mob he cheated.”

“Hmm.” Kelly stared at his spinning glass. Her cheeks had a touch of flush, though now she looked decidedly sober. She looked down at her drink and suddenly threw back the dregs, holding it out again. “Then I suppose I’d better have another. For luck.”

Elek laughed, and grabbed the muddler.

Around 4:00 in the morning, one of the bar girls had to use the restroom. She quietly slipped away from the snoring form next to her, and eased open the door to her room. Instead of hurrying out, however, she froze with the door open just a hair. She took in the shadowy scene before her. Sass was coming up the stairs from the bar, wobbling slightly but securely carrying Miss Rose. The lady was already asleep, and the content smile on her face was reflected in Sass’s eyes. Her white dress bunched in Sass’s arms, falling haphazardly below her. 

The bar girl drew back as they passed, then saw Sass gently open the door to a vacant room. The washroom was next to it at the end of the hall. The bar girl slipped out her door, picked up the hem of her nightgown, and silently ran down the hall. As she dashed by, she glimpsed Sass lying his charge on the bed and tucking her hair back.

The bar girl, experienced in gathering such snatched information, avoided the creaky floorboards and managed to close the washroom door without any discernible noise. She completed her business, then waited until she heard Sass’s footsteps on the stairs. She slowly walked back to her bed, turning this scene over in her mind. For now, she would say nothing until something was confirmed, and now she knew what to look for. What would be a new bit of interest for anyone else would be proof of her new discovery. As every bar girl knew, a secret is the most expensive commodity, and Sass’s secrets were worth their weight in gold.

–

Buy me a coffee at https://ko-fi.com/badgerpride

-–

For more Content, check out @contentcreatorshaven or www.contentcreatorshaven.com! We are a creator collective dedicated to helping each other make it in this very crazy world.

[fountainpenguin]

Hey, you said a bit ago that you actually prefer "ChalkZone" to "Danny Phantom". Reasons?

It’s completely a matter of personal preference. I really like both shows, but the former squeaks past the latter. “Danny Phantom” is plot-oriented, “ChalkZone” is more world-building oriented (You can see right from the titles where the focus of the show is placed). 

So yeah, I was a bit disappointed that DP didn’t explain the Ghost Zone as much as I felt it could have. We just don’t know a lot about the flora and fauna there, or the nature of ghosts (especially the ones with less shape and character) or energy or how different ghost powers work… 

“ChalkZone” is HUGE on world-building, which is exactly what I would expect and want from a show about an alternate universe. In fact, I wrote a strangely popular post about some highlights of “ChalkZone” world-building that you can find here. I’d struggle to do the same thing with “Danny Phantom”. 

And no fantasy plant will ever beat ChalkZone’s eyeball plants that record what they see on film strip roots and that crawl into the host’s eye sockets and manipulate the way said host views the world until they reach the place where they want to deposit their seeds. Remember Sam’s comment in “Memory Blank” of “Who wishes for evil plants?!?” Yep, that’s “ChalkZone”. All the time.

You may notice on KissCartoon that the “ChalkZone” episodes air in sets of four. Each link contains two main episodes that cover Rudy and the main plot, and then the third one is always a slice-of-life episode about Snap’s life in ChalkZone when Rudy isn’t around. It’s pure world-building. He even has his own television show, “Snap Shots”, which doesn’t come up a lot but always covers world-building when it does, like taking the viewer on a tour to describe ChalkZone plants, animals, and even the life of Skrawl and the Beanie Boys at their training camp. It’s exactly the kind of thing I adore. The fourth “episode” is always a one-minute song, which is a little weird, but okay.

Character-wise, “ChalkZone” is very great too. They were never shy about portraying the main characters as jerks. Regularly. Heck, one of the reoccurring plot points is that Rudy views himself as the One True Defender of ChalkZone, despite the fact that the Zoners never asked him to be their guardian and many wish he would just go away and leave them alone.

I like how in “Danny Phantom”, Sam and Tucker are good friends who love and hang out with one another even when Danny isn’t around. But “ChalkZone” is as opposite as you can get without splintering the trio up. Snap and Penny got on one another’s nerves from the beginning, and although they can put their differences aside and work together, they never learned to love (or even like) each other as much as Sam and Tucker do. It’s a very interesting portrayal.

Not to say that DP isn’t heavy on characters too, because it is and I appreciate it. Some of the characters (super-judgmental Sam) just weren’t my favorites. And DP is too heavy on romance for my personal tastes.

Compare with “ChalkZone”, where platonic friendships are the major focus. Despite meeting for the first time in an episode named “Rudy’s First Date”, Rudy and Penny show little romantic attraction to one another until Season 3, when they were watching their doofus duplicates (the “doofi”) flirt with one another, and Penny reminded Rudy that “They’re nothing like us”, and Rudy’s reply was, “Yeah, [unlike Doofus Penny], you really are a genius”, and she came back with, “And you have genuine artistic talent”, and they just scuffed the ground and smiled while Snap sat there being grossed out.

It was very sweet, and the show moved on without bringing it up again for that episode, or in the high majority of the remaining episodes (even when they go dancing together, it’s mostly platonic and they never become canon- that’s even a Snap-centric episode, so we don’t even see the two dance!). And I mean, when Penny tries to kiss Rudy in “The Smooch”, he bolts, and only returns out of necessity to lift the “smooch curse” off her. It’s great. 

Though to be fair, “Danny Phantom” involves high schoolers and “ChalkZone” is about ten-year-olds. It would be more surprising if DP brushed completely past all romance. But I just really appreciated the way it was handled in the latter show- I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a less romantic kiss between two cartoon leads than Penny tackling Rudy into a giant peanut butter and jelly sandwich and having it snap shut on them. 

The show just didn’t make a big deal out of romance - no dangling ship-bait, no love triangles, basically none of what “Star vs. The Forces of Evil” is doing right now that makes me cringe - so that’s something that means a lot to me.

These two shows are similar in that they both involve heroes, portals, alternate universes, and a main trio. In both shows, the real world starts off not knowing about the existence of this alternate universe, but slowly becomes aware of it- the people in the real world don’t lampshade their encounters with entities from the other one at all!

But put side by side, I’ll pick “ChalkZone” every time. Not only is it easier for me to buy into the idea of magic chalk that can easily fall into the wrong hands than a boy whose molecules got rearranged after contact with radioactive electricity, but I just can’t resist the absolute world-building focus. My love.

I just haven’t come up with any good ‘fic or drawing ideas, that’s all. With TD, FOP, and DP, I get bothered that after all these years, there are so few ‘fics related to some really cool characters despite the size and activity of their fandoms. I like to fix that. “ChalkZone” is just a super small fandom as it is, so it’s never surprising if characters I like get glossed over. Doesn’t bother me.

I guess what I’m saying is, it’s sad watching my favorite characters get dragged through the dirt so many times (with “Total Drama” especially). But with “ChalkZone”? Does anyone even hate any character in “ChalkZone”? They’re all so adorable! Did you see “Poison Pen Letter”? That’s such an amazing episode that portrays Rudy’s Wrath and recklessness, and renders Michelle Norwegiano perhaps the best “popular girl” cartoon character ever.

I need to draw Rudy’s parents. His dad is a butcher and his mom is an opera singer, and they are amazing. Ooh, and I need to draw Penny and Chloe. They both come from veterinary families, so they’d probably get along great! And I just remembered that “Mother Tongue” was the episode where Penny has a breakdown because of all the pressure her mom puts her under, and they talk it out. I think I might be uncovering the reasons I liked Chloe from the start.

“ChalkZone” is weird in that it was so perfect, no one writes fanfics about it because most AUs can easily be treated as something that could actually happen, and there weren’t plot holes for people to point out and/or correct. One of the only plot holes I can think of is why Rudy never drew another magic chalk mine, but that in itself is countered by the ideas that you don’t want the chalk falling into the wrong hands, and the hints that magic chalk is different from other chalk and only grows there. 

That, and due to the whole “no love triangle” thing, which unfortunately “sells”, I guess, combined with the fact that it was competing with literally every show that sent a character to Nicktoons Unite, rather sealed its fate. The Internet and fandoms were different back then. Bet people would love it if it aired now.

(By the way, some of the episodes on KissCartoon are missing and/or cut off early. You can usually find them if you Google ‘em. The early episodes are out of order because of “Oh Yeah! Cartoons”, but I can help you out. The only episode I’ve never found is “Knight Plight”. If anyone has that, I’d love to see.)