#and the pink hair guy is right up my alley at least in terms of design lol

[michi-chelle]

to play or not to play slow damage

[twoidiotwriters1]

Written In The Stars CXLIV (Harry Potter xF!Oc)

A/N: I hate the absolute lack of organization my career has and I’m so full of violence bc of it omg -Danny

Words: 4,862

Series’ Masterlist

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Listen to: ‘Wicked Game’ -by Gemma Haynes

Chapter Six: Growing Hopes.

Mel walked into the kitchen twenty minutes after her talk with Harry, her heart still beating harshly against her chest.

Her theory could be wrong, but at the same time, it was the best way to keep the lifeline and make sure it'd be useful.

They had three rules:

Keep a clear head, no romance could happen between them.

They would use the connection in case of major injuries, and only if they were given consent.

Harry had to learn to ground himself, and they would stay away from the other's problems unless requested differently.

"Hand me that baby!" She demanded Erick when she saw him.

"He's happy with me!" He complained, turning his back on her.

"I'm his sister!" Mel tickled his sides and he immediately gave in, Erick hated to be tickled. "Come here, Leggie, was this bad man annoying you?"

"It just won't budge, this has always worked before, I just can't understand it!" Mrs Weasley said from across the room, struggling to fix Hermione's eye.

"It'll be Fred and George's idea of a funny joke, making sure it can't come off," Ginny shrugged.

"But it's got to come off! I can't go around looking like this forever!"

"It won't stay forever," Mel said. "They're not that cruel..."

"You two stop moving around, you'll upset him!" Emily warned them, looking at the way Mel and Erick continued to fight for the boy's attention.

"We'll find an antidote, don't worry," Mrs Weasley patted Hermione's head.

"Bill told me 'ow Fred and George are very amusing!" said Fleur.

"Yes, I can hardly breathe for laughing," Hermione said sharply.

"Sorry about that," Mel sat down in front of the blonde. "She's a bit on edge — our O.W.L's will be arriving today..."

"Mrs Weasley, you're quite, quite sure no owls have arrived this morning?"

"Yes, dear, I'd have noticed. But it's barely nine, there's still plenty of time..."

"I know I messed up Ancient Runes," Hermione paced around the room, "I definitely made at least one serious mistranslation. And the Defense Against the Dark Arts practical was no good at all. I thought Transfiguration went all right at the time, but looking back —"

"Hermione, will you shut up, you're not the only one who's nervous!" Ron exclaimed. "And when you've got your eleven 'Outstanding' O.W.L.s..."

"Don't, don't, don't!" said Hermione. "I know I've failed everything!"

"Were you nervous about your O.W.L.s?" Harry asked Erick, he sat next to Mel and started playing with her brother.

"I was more worried about my family finding out I was talking to a muggle," He shrugged. "I had done all I could — Studied and wrote until my hands and eyes hurt, there was nothing I could do apart from waiting..."

"Erick was obsessed with getting his Prefect badge, the fifth-year examinations were a piece of cake for him, right?" Mel smiled.

"Yeah well, I really wanted to be a Prefect," He sighed. "I was an idiot..."

"You still are," Mel barely managed to cover Reg's face from the cloth Erick threw her at her remark. "Careful, you twat!"

"What happens if we fail, though?" Harry grabbed the baby, not wanting him to get hurt.

"We discuss our options with our Head of House, I asked Professor McGonagall at the end of last term," Hermione replied.

"At Beauxbatons," Fleur started, "we 'ad a different way of doing things. I think it was better. We sat our examinations after six years of study, not five, and then —"

Hermione screamed and ran to the window. Mel stood up and followed, Reggie started to cry.

"They're definitely owls," said Ron, looking out the window and gulping.

"And there are four of them," said Harry, walking up to them with the baby still in his arms.

"One for each of us," Hermione shivered. "Oh no... oh no... oh no..."

The girl gripped Ron's arm, Mel tried to quiet her brother distractedly, but she was too nervous to do it in a gentle way. Emily got closer and grabbed the baby, Erick stood next to the group.

"It's going to be okay, guys," He said simply.

"Oh shut up, what do you know?" Ron frowned.

"Oh no!" squealed Hermione, squeezing Ron's arm harder.

Mrs Weasley opened the kitchen window. Four owls landed on the table and lifted their right legs so they could grab their letters. Mel grabbed her own and ripped the envelope so fast she almost ruined the letter.

Ordinary Wizarding Level Results

Pass Grades

Mel Dumbledore Sultens has achieved:

Astronomy (O)

Care of Magical Creatures (O)

Charms (O)

Defense Against the Dark Arts (O)

Divination (P)

Herbology (E)

History of Magic (O)

Potions (O)

Transfiguration (O)

"Eight O.W.L's!" Erick had been reading over her shoulder. "That's wonderful, Mely!"

"Only failed Divination and History of Magic, and who cares about them?" Ron said brightly, showing her his letter. "Here — swap —"

Harry showed her his letter, there was only one 'O' in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but the rest was okay, all E's... and he'd gotten a 'P' on Divination like her.

"Knew you'd be top at Defense Against the Dark Arts," Ron punched Harry and Mel on the shoulders. "We've done all right, haven't we?"

"Well done!" said Mrs Weasley, ruffling Ron's hair. "Seven O.W.L.s, that's more than Fred and George got together!"

"I'm so proud of you!" Emily said, kissing Harry's cheek and hugging Mel tightly.

Erick pulled her in for an unexpected hug and lifted her from the ground, Mel laughed at his outburst.

"Hermione?" said Ginny carefully, noticing she was the only one who was quiet. "How did you do?"

"I — not bad," Hermione replied.

"Oh, come off it," Ron snatched her letter and read it quickly. "Yep — nine 'Outstandings' and one 'Exceeds Expectations' at Defense Against the Dark Arts. You're actually disappointed, aren't you?"

Hermione shook her head quietly, Mel and Harry laughed. Ron was looking at their friend with so much affection she couldn't believe she was the only one noticing.

"Well, we're N.E.W.T. students now!" grinned Ron, then he walked up to Erick and shook his hand. "Hope you're ready to welcome me in in those study sessions of yours... Godric knows I'll need them. Mum, are there any more sausages?"

Mel noticed she was still quite settled in Erick's arms and quickly moved out of his reach, patting his arm awkwardly.

"Your last year," She said. "How are you feeling?"

Erick looked at her.

"I'm not ready to say goodbye."

When the letters with their booklists arrived the morning after Harry's birthday, they had a pleasant surprise in them.

"I'm Headboy..." Erick said under his breath.

"I'm Captain!" Harry exclaimed.

The room lit up instantly, Mel got closer to examine Erick's badge and hugged him tightly, then she went to Harry.

"That gives you equal status with prefects!" Hermione was saying. "You can use our special bathroom now and everything!"

"Wow, I remember when Charlie wore one of these," said Ron. "Harry, this is so cool, you're my Captain — if you let me back on the team, I suppose, ha ha..."

"He'll let us in if he knows what's good for the team," Mel teased. "You and I are the reason why we won last year. And where was he? Playing hide in seek with Hagrid's little brother!"

"Careful, you don't want to upset your Captain," Harry joked.

"Oh, shut up," She snorted.

"Well, I don't suppose we can put off a trip to Diagon Alley much longer now you've got these," said Mrs Weasley. "We'll go on Saturday as long as your father doesn't have to go into work again. I'm not going there without him."

"Mum, d'you honestly think You-Know-Who's going to be hiding behind a bookshelf in Flourish and Blotts?"

"Fortescue and Ollivander went on holiday, did they? If you think security's a laughing matter you can stay behind and I'll get your things myself —"

"No, I wanna come, I want to see Fred and George's shop!" Ron exclaimed.

"Then you just buck up your ideas, young man, before I decide you're too immature to come with us! And that goes for returning to Hogwarts as well!"

Ron turned to look at his friends.

"Blimey... you can't even make a joke 'round here anymore..."

"Don't feel bad, you have the emotional range of a teaspoon, you can't help it!" Mel taunted, walking past him.

Mel left the burrow with her Firebolt on one shoulder, ready to go and play with her friends when she spotted Erick sitting under a tree, reading one of the books he'd borrowed from her. For some reason, she felt like talking to him even though there was nothing new to say.

"Don't you get tired of reading?" She nudged his leg. "Don't get me wrong, I love books, but summer should be spent under the sun, gaining a bit of colour..."

"I have enough colour," Erick looked up at her. "I get all sweaty under the sun — hugely unattractive, and I have a reputation to maintain."

"As the heartthrob of our group?" Mel smirked. "I thought that was my title!"

"Your title is Lady Dumbledore," He grinned.

"Leaving you alone with Fred and George in Grimmauld Place was a mistake," She sat down next to him, examining his book. "Dracula? Finally reading something else than romance and fairytales I see..."

"Dracula's kind of romantic. Sort of fairy-like as well... if you look past the blood and violence..."

"Well, sounds like something realistic for sure..."

"Oh, please, didn't you say to me years ago that life could be a fairytale and all that?"

Mel groaned, she shook her head.

"That same day you told me how hard it is to choose between emotions and duty. We can't always be happy — What was I thinking when I thought I'd get the princess's ending, anyway? I'm a witch!"

"That's not the bubbly miss I used to know," Erick raised a brow. "I understand, though. My dreams were never as pink as yours, but they were ambitious... I guess they still are, but in a prudent way..."

"It's a start," Mel leaned against the tree. "I feel like I'm rebuilding myself... It's complicated."

"That makes two of us," He sighed. "It's good to have someone that understands, right?"

Mel suddenly felt self-conscious about how close they'd become over the last few weeks. It triggered the fly or fight reaction in her. Whatever she'd done with Fred last year helped her move on from her heartache, but it didn't make her trust her romantic feelings, whatever those pesky things were.

"Everything okay?"

She felt a tingling sensation, like thunder announcing a storm. Had his eyes always looked that honey-like with the sunlight?

"Yep," Mel squeaked, standing up and grabbing her firebolt. "I want to play..."

"Sure..." Erick frowned slightly. "Yeah, go ahead..."

"Are you sure you don't want to come?"

"My hair would get messy and I'd be all out of breath! Such a nightmare..."

"That's the whiny Prince I know," Mel smiled tensely, walking away.

Diagon Alley was nothing like the bright, lousy place she used to remember. Every window had been covered with Ministry posters, Mel anxiously ran her fingers over the scars on her hand, scowling at every single banner.

Emily, Hagrid (who was there as their guard), Ron, Hermione, Harry and her went to get new robes. Ginny, Erick, Mr and Mrs Weasley decided to go and buy the books everyone needed.

No one noticed Harry Potter was passing next to them, Mel was starting to understand what it'd been like to live during the first wizarding war, and now she was living the second wave. She was slowly sinking in her own anguish when someone touched her shoulder gently.

"Don't get upset," Harry said, making eye contact. "Remember our game?" She nodded. "You want to play?"

She nodded again. He took a moment to think of a word, then he continued:

"Quidditch. Q—U— I— D..."

"D..." She whispered. "I— T— C— H."

"What's your favourite spell?"

"I..." She tilted her head. "I don't have one."

"Wise choice," He held her hand and guided her towards the next shop. "C'mon..."

Mel stared at him, Harry was acting so differently compared to last year it was almost scarier than his angry version. Still, she didn't let go of his hand until they entered the next shop. Emily went in with them, Hagrid stayed outside to watch the entrance.

"...not a child, in case you haven't noticed, Mother. I am perfectly capable of doing my shopping alone."

"Now, dear, your mother's quite right, none of us is supposed to go wandering around on our own anymore, it's nothing to do with being a child —"

"Watch where you're sticking that pin, will you!"

Draco walked out of the dressing room and stood in front of a mirror. After a second of quiet staring, he realized they were there.

"If you're wondering what the smell is, Mother," Malfoy sneered. "A Mudblood just walked in..."

"I don't think there's any need for language like that!" Madam Malkin walked out of the backroom as well. "And I don't want wands drawn in my shop either!"

The boys had their wands out, pointing at Malfoy. Hermione whispered something about ignoring the boy.

"Yeah, like you'd dare do magic out of school," Malfoy scoffed. "Who blacked your eye, Granger? I want to send them flowers."

"That's quite enough!" said Madam Malkin. "Madam — please —"

Narcissa Malfoy stared at Emily for a long time, then at the rest of the group.

"Put those away," she said shortly. "If you attack my son again, I shall ensure that it is the last thing you ever do."

"Really?" Harry stepped forward, he was as tall as the woman, and this seemed to encourage him. "Going to get a few Death Eater pals to do us in, are you?"

"Harry," Mel said in a tone of warning, Madame Malkin gasped.

"Really, you shouldn't accuse — dangerous thing to say — wands away, please!"

"Harry," Emily insisted. "Be wise..."

"I see that being Dumbledore's favourite has given you a false sense of security, Harry Potter," Narcissa smiled. "But Dumbledore won't always be there to protect you."

"Wow... look at that..." Harry looked around. "He's not here now! So why not have a go? They might be able to find you a double cell in Azkaban with your loser of a husband!"

"That's enough," Mel said sternly, lowering the boy's arm.

"Don't you dare talk to my mother like that, Potter!" Malfoy tried to get close but stumbled on his long robes.

"It's all right, Draco," said Narcissa, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I expect Potter will be reunited with dear Sirius before I am reunited with Lucius."

Harry tried to raised his wand again.

"I think we've had enough useless fights!" The girl stopped him. "My uncle may not be here but I'm pretty able to stop you on my own, Harry."

"Mel's right..." Emily put a hand on his shoulder to ease him.

"I think this left sleeve could come up a little bit more," Madame Malkin said anxiously, reaching for Malfoy's robes. "Dear, let me just —"

"Ouch! Watch where you're putting your pins, woman! Mother — I don't think I want these anymore —"

"You're right, Draco," said Narcissa, "now I know the kind of scum that shops here... We'll do better at Twilfitt and Tatting's. Oh, and Sultens," She eyed Emily one last time before leaving. "Congrats on birthing another bastard..."

"Let them go," Mel said roughly to the boys, noticing they were ready to attack again.

Emily looked away while the Malfoys exited the store.

"Mum?" The girl approached the woman carefully.

"It's fine," She said quietly. "I just need a moment... I'm fine."

"Got ev'rything?" Hagrid asked them once they left the store.

"Just about... Did you see the Malfoys?"

"Yeah— Bu' they wouldn' dare make trouble in the middle o' Diagon Alley, Harry. Don' worry abou' them."

Mr and Mrs Weasley, Ginny and Erick arrived, all holding large packages.

"Everyone all right? Got your robes? Right then, we can pop in at the Apothecary and Eeylops on the way to Fred and George's — stick close, now..."

Mel remained silent the whole time they spent in the Apothecary, she picked the few ingredients for her next term and paid without focusing on what she was doing.

"How are you?" Erick caught up with her. "Harry told me what happened... You know the Malfoys are rubbish..."

Harry had sent Erick to talk to her? Instead of going himself? He was definitely keeping his distance. Which was excellent, but she didn't know why it hurt her anyway.

"I've heard it once or twice... never bothered me because I knew my father loved me, I never stopped to think about my mum..."

"What?"

"My parents never married," Mel explained. "They did everything a married couple is supposed to do... everything except marrying. They were waiting for the war to end."

"Titles are nothing unless you give them meaning, your mother knows that. Names mean nothing unless you want them to... Mel Dumbledore, that's one that'll mean great things one day."

Mel knew he was right, her parents had loved each other, and she had all the right in the world to be treated as a Dumbledore. Leon Regulus would be a Black if he wanted to, and her mother didn't need to do things like everyone else to be valid.

Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was the only cheerful building left. They knew how to brighten up even the gloomiest of places. Mel felt a strong tug at the base of her stomach; she'd missed her friends.

'WHY ARE YOU WORRYING ABOUT YOU-KNOW-WHO?

U-NO-POO—

"They really know their priorities, don't they?" Erick raised a brow.

"They'll be murdered in their beds!" Mrs Weasley lamented.

"No they won't!" Ron laughed. "This is brilliant!"

Mel couldn't help feeling a bit anxious, Emily stared at the sign and smiled absently.

"Sirius would've loved this..."

With every step she took inside the loud and crowded place, her chest warmed up with memories. She'd been present for the creation of at least half of all those, it was a nice change to reminisce over something that made her happy instead of miserable and mournful.

"'One simple incantation and you will enter a top-quality, highly realistic, thirty-minute daydream," Hermione read. "Easy to fit into the average school lesson and virtually undetectable (side effects include vacant expression and minor drooling). Not for sale to under-sixteens' — You know, that really is extraordinary magic!"

"For that, Hermione, you can have one for free."

Mel turned around so fast she accidentally hit Harry's face with her hair. She jumped into Fred's arms and squeezed him as hard as she could, a pleasant wave of accomplishment washed over her when she noticed she was almost as tall as him now. Almost, the top of her head was barely reaching his nose, though.

"Good to see I've been missed," He beamed. "How are you handling our break-up, Lady? Not good I see... Listen, I'm trying to date new people, having you in my arms every time we see each other it's kind of a bad look."

"Shut up," Mel quickly cleaned her tear-stained face. "I'm sorry, I don't go around jumping on people and crying — I'm just happy to see you."

Fred ruffled her hair and offered her a handkerchief he pulled out from his pocket.

"How are you, Harry?" He reached for the boy's hand and shook it. "And what's happened to your eye, Hermione?"

"Your punching telescope."

"Oh blimey, I forgot about those! Here —" He pulled a tub of something out of another pocket and gave it to her. "Just dab it on, that bruise'll be gone within the hour. We had to find a decent bruise remover. We're testing most of our products on ourselves."

"It is safe, isn't it?" Hermione asked reluctantly.

"'Course it is! Come on, guys, I'll give you a tour. Wait —" He looked around. "Where's the Prince?"

Mel looked around as well. "He was right behind me when I walked in!"

"We'll find him," Fred put an arm around her shoulders and guided her towards a shelf. "You've grown! Try to stay like this, won't you? If my ex-girlfriend ends up being taller and prettier than me..."

"Looks like I'm halfway there!" She teased.

Harry followed them, Hermione decided to stay behind.

"Muggle magic tricks!" Fred happily pointed to the boxes on their right. "For freaks like Dad, you know, who love Muggle stuff. It's not a big earner, but we do fairly steady business, they're great novelties — Erick will love them... Oh, here's George — Ah, hello there, Prince!"

"Caught him snooping around the love potions," George smirked, his own arm around Erick, who was now taller than him. "Can you believe it? As if this twat needed one! — Blimey, lady, you're taller too! That's not fair!"

George shook hands with Harry, and Erick allowed Fred to give him a hug.

"Giving them the tour? Come through the back, guys, that's where we're making the real money — pocket anything, you— and you'll pay in more than Galleons!" George warned a boy who was trying to get edible dark marks from a tub — "they'll make anyone sick!"

George guided them to the back, Erick approached her with a worried expression.

"You've been crying."

"What?" She touched her face, but it was dry. "How do you..? Doesn't matter, I got emotional, that's all."

"Emotional?"

"I'd missed the twins, alright?" Mel replied defensively.

"You didn't even date for real..." Erick grumbled, she pretended not to hear.

"We've just developed this more serious line," Fred explained to them. "Funny how it happened..."

"You wouldn't believe how many people, even people who work at the Ministry, can't do a decent Shield Charm," George mentioned. "'Course, they didn't have you two teaching them."

"That's right... Well, we thought Shield Hats were a bit of a laugh, you know, challenge your mate to jinx you while wearing it and watch his face when the jinx just bounces off. But the Ministry bought five hundred for all its support staff! And we're still getting massive orders!"

"So we've expanded into a range of Shield Cloaks, Shield Gloves..."

"...I mean, they wouldn't help much against the Unforgivable Curses, but for minor to moderate hexes or jinxes..."

"An abrupt attack would no longer be useful," Mel said in astonishment. "Boys, this is wonderful!"

"We thought we'd get into the whole area of Defense Against the Dark Arts, because it's such a money-spinner," George nodded. "This is cool. Look, Instant Darkness Powder, we're importing it from Peru. Handy if you want to make a quick escape."

"And our Decoy Detonators are just walking off the shelves, look," said Fred. "You just drop one surreptitiously and it'll run off and make a nice loud noise out of sight, giving you a diversion if you need one.

"Impressive," Erick admitted, examining the boxes.

There was something absurd about the way Fred and George were so casually talking about their newest products. The context in which these things had been created was dark, but to them, it was just another funny experiment that had succeeded, and as crazy as it was, Mel felt hopeful. If something as bright, colourful and happy could still stand in the midst of war, then surely not everything was changing for the worst.

"Handy," said Harry.

"Here," George grabbed a fistful of the products and put a bit on the hands of the three friends.

"There's a customer out here looking for a joke cauldron, Mr Weasley and Mr Weasley," A girl said through the curtain.

Hearing the 'Mr Weasley' reminded her that time wasn't forgiving, and soon enough she would also be of age. However, this seemed terribly unimportant when so many marvellous things were happening around her.

"Right you are, Verity, I'm coming," said George. "Guys, you help yourself to anything you want, all right? No charge."

"I can't do that!" said Harry.

"And neither can we," Mel frowned, Erick nodded.

"You don't pay here," said Fred, brushing it aside.

"But —"

"You gave us our start-up loan, Harry, we haven't forgotten," said George. "Erick, your gran' got us this place and he asked for nothing in return but for us to watch over you, and that means we don't accept the money he left so you could watch after yourself. Mel," He smirked. "You're just too pretty to pay."

"Don't forget she's always believed in us! Helped while we were making half of these!" Fred added. "But yeah, being good-looking is the main reason."

Mel snorted, she was unaware of the way Erick rolled his eyes at the innocent and playful compliments.

"Take whatever you like," George shrugged, "and just remember to tell people where you got it, if they ask."

Fred led them back into the main room, Hermione and Ginny were still checking the Patented Daydream Charms.

"Haven't you girls found our special WonderWitch products yet? Follow me, ladies..."

"Oh, wow," Mel grimaced. "This looks like something Umbridge would love..."

Near the window was an array of violently pink products around which a cluster of excited girls was giggling enthusiastically. Hermione and Ginny both hung back, looking wary.

"There you go," said Fred. "Best range of love potions you'll find anywhere."

"Do they work?" Ginny asked sceptically.

"Certainly they work, for up to twenty-four hours at a time depending on the weight of the boy in question —"

"— and the attractiveness of the girl," George was suddenly once more at their side. "But we're not selling them to our sister. Not when she's already got about five boys on the go from what we've —"

"Whatever you've heard from Ron is a big fat lie," said Ginny curtly.

"Wait," Mel smirked. "Were these the potions you were examining a while ago, Prince?"

"Oh yeah," George said, a devilish grin on his face. "But he doesn't need them. Not when he's finally gaining weight and colour! I tell you, now that he's a hero he'll be having hoards of people lining up for a date!"

Mel laughed, picking up a bottle. "I'm intrigued..."

"Oh no," Fred snatched the bottle from her hand. "You give this to a boy and you'll drive him mad!"

"He'd end up in St. Mungo's for sure," George nodded solemnly.

"Sod off, you two," Mel protested. "I wasn't planning on buying it!"

"Good," said Harry and Erick at the same time.

"What's this?" Ginny asked promptly, distracting the twins.

"Guaranteed ten-second pimple vanisher," said Fred. "Excellent on everything from boils to blackheads, but don't change the subject. Are you or are you not currently going out with a boy called Dean Thomas?"

"Yes, I am. And last time I looked, he was definitely one boy, not five. What are those?"

"Pygmy Puffs," said George. "Miniature puffskeins, we can't breed them fast enough. So what about Michael Corner?"

"I dumped him, he was a bad loser — They're really cute!"

"They're fairly cuddly, yes. But you're moving through boyfriends a bit fast, aren't you?" Fred insisted.

Ginny turned to look at him, both hands on her hips and looking alarmingly similar to her mother.

"It's none of your business. And I'll thank you," She yelled to Ron, who had just appeared, "not to tell tales about me to these two!"

"That's three Galleons, nine Sickles, and a Knut," said Fred. "Cough up."

"I'm your brother!"

"And that's our stuff you're nicking. Three Galleons, nine Sickles. I'll knock off the Knut."

"But I haven't got three Galleons, nine Sickles!"

"You'd better put it back then, and mind you put it on the right shelves."

Ron dropped the boxes, yelled at Fred to put them right up his arse, and showed him his middle finger. Unfortunately, Mrs Weasley was there to witness it.

"If I see you do that again I'll jinx your fingers together!"

"Mum, can I have a Pygmy Puff?" asked Ginny.

"A what?"

"Look, they're so sweet..."

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Mel and Erick suddenly had a wide view of the window. Malfoy was hurrying down the street across from theirs.

"Wonder where his mummy is?" Harry asked.

"Given her the slip by the looks of it," said Ron.

"Why, though?" said Hermione.

"Throwing a tantrum, maybe?" Erick offered.

"Get under here, quick," said Harry, pulling his Invisibility Cloak out.

"Oh — I don't know, Harry," Hermione looked towards the rest of the group.

"He's Malfoy, who cares what he's doing?" Mel frowned.

"Come on!" Ron insisted.

Erick looked over his shoulder, making sure no one was watching.

"I'll distract them," He said. "Just try to be back soon."

"Thank you," Mel whispered, disappearing under the cloak.

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

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[gaamagirl565]

Matters of the heart S2 ep 12

Matters of the heart

Season 2 Episode 12

The alley girl {OPENING CREDITS} {Open to a slow zoom on Varian’s house as thunder rolls in the distance; lightning flashes and we cut to the bedroom where Varian tosses and turns} Varian: ngghh...no… {We see his nightmare; Isaiah falling off the cliff; Cassandra being tortured by her power; Quirin being devoured by a black mist in the shape of a wolf; everything fades to a black void with only Estelle in the room; her back is turned to him}

Varian: E-Estelle? {She turns to him with pink and green eyes and the cut on her neck visible; when she speaks it is Zhan tiri’s voice} Estelle: Is this your happily ever after, child? {Varian jolts up in bed with a shout and wakes Zapada in the process} Zapada: mn? Iubriea mea? {Varian gets up from the bed and pours water from the pitcher into the basin on the dresser} Zapada: Another nightmare? {Varian splashes his face} Varian: Probably for the best...it’s almost dawn and I have to be at the castle… {Zapada gets up and walks over to him; she takes his hand and he looks at her} Zapada: You have barely been sleeping…and it is falling rain outside. Varian: It doesn’t matter...what matters is finding that cult and destroying them. Zapada: Varian how do you expect to do that when you look like death himself? Varian: Zapada, please… Zapada: No! You will catch your demise! Varian: and they are causing people’s demise! They took my friend, destroyed an entire kingdom, killed Estelle, my dad, my son-! Estelle: Who was no less of a son to me than the one within me, Varian!...but very well. If you want to perish before you’ve even obtained victory...then be my guest. {She walks over to the bed and lies down} Varian:...fine. {He leaves and shuts the door; Zapada’s eyes water and she quietly cries into her pillow; Cut to the morning in the Dark Kingdom; Isaiah rolls over in his cave with a groan} Isaiah:...ugh...I can’t wait to have my bed back… {A distant scream rings out in the forest and Isaiah jolts up} Girls voice: NOT AGAIN! AHHHHH!! Isaiah: H-Hang on! I’m coming! {Isaiah runs through the trees and hops over rocks; he rushes as fast as he can and arrives at a clearing; cautiously he steps forward} Isaiah:...hello? Girls voice: Up here you pillock... {Isaiah looks up to see a young girl hanging from a tree branch by her foot} Isaiah:......*snerk* Girl: Snicker one more time and it’ll cost your tongue. Isaiah: heh...sorry, here let me help you dow- Girl: no I got it… {She takes out a shiv and starts cutting the rope} Isaiah: If you have everything under control why did you scream? Girl:  you ever heard of frustration?  also, I was yanked up into a tree anyone would scream! Isaiah: I-... I can't argue with that… {she cuts through the rope and starts falling} Girl: AH! {Isaiah lunges and catches her} Girl: Hmph! Get off me! Stinky boy! {She gets up and fixes the bandana on her head} Isaiah: Soooo...i’m Isaiah! {He puts out a hand and she stares at it for a moment before going to pick up her bag} Isaiah:....ookkkaaayy… Girl:...Verbena. Isaiah: huh? Verbena: my name is Verbena. Isaiah: O-oh! Okay! Cool! So what’cha doing out here? Verbena: Foraging. Isaiah: oh..cool..yup…… {She stares at him and then groans} Verbena: ...if your coming along, keep up and shut up. Isaiah: R-right! Got it! {he runs up and stays next to her} Isaiah:...so what are we foraging? Verbena: ugghh… {Cut to Catalina walking down into the dungeon; she looks disturbed and angry; she stands in front of Noremoths cell}Catalina: I’d like to talk to the prisoner in this cell, please. Pete:...you’re sure? Catalina: just open the door… {Pete goes over and unlocks the door; Catalina walks in and bares her fangs in a growl; Noremoth looks up} Noremoth: Catalina! {She slams the door closed} Noremoth: Cat I can explain! Catalina: Oh I’m all ears! But lets review! You lied to me, you’re part of a dangerous cult, you killed people, and you attacked Corona multiple times. Did I miss anything? Noremoth: nope that’s uh...pretty much it. {She throws her hands up and walks to the other side of the cell} Noremoth: ...I never meant to hurt you. Catalina: No you only meant to lie, kill, and steal. Noremoth: Technically I never lied- {She gets close to his face, baring her fangs and eyes turning red} Noremoth: BAH! Okay! Okay! Relax! Catalina: You don’t get it do you!? Noremoth: What!? Catalina: I trusted you! I..I liked you! And you betrayed me! You hurt my friends! You hurt my kingdom! And I hate you for it! I honestly wish I had the strength to end you I would gladly tear your throat out for my friend and family! Noremoth: Cat… {Catalina shakes her head and runs out of the cell and slams the door} Noremoth:...smooth ol’ boy...smooth. {Fade to the cult HQ; Larkspur sits in her room with messy hair and a disheveled appearance; she takes a knife and throws it at a Coronian flag she has on her wall; a knock sounds at her door} Vergus: Mistress? {She tumbles out of her bed and fixes herself} Larkspur: C-Come in! Vergus: Mistress,  we were badly battered from the recent battle.  we have many wounded and we're running out of supplies. Larkspur:  and our vessel? Vergus:   despite the doubtless psychological harm that she suffered she appears to be in good health. Larkspur: That is all you needed to say I really don't give a rat's arse about her “psychological harm” Vergus:  regardless mistress, we must obtain more supplies.  the dark kingdom has a trade port. it's about two days’ time from our hideaway. Larkspur:  then what are you still doing here? get together a small group of those that aren't wounded and go obtain things to replenish our supply. Vergus:  well there's one more thing mistress. Larkspur: of course there is. Vergus:  we wish to know what you plan to do now. Noremoth has been captured.  and he didn't exactly leave on the best terms.  he's a serious threat and could easily be giving away information.  we wish to know your orders. Larkspur: hmm.. well it is true he could be a threat.  but we can't just go barreling into Corona.  as you said before we're all wounded and need time to heal,  on top of everything we're low on supplies.  I suppose we should plan for a battle then. if we don't attack they surely will attack us. looks like this little war is at a standstill. Vergus: Mistress? Larkspur:  take a small group of the members that aren't wounded.  go to the dark Kingdom, obtain the supplies that we require,  but also try and recruit some new members. look for the lowlifes of the town.  people who are desperate, weak of heart, there should be plenty.  if we're going to fight a battle in the future we should have more able-bodied men and women. Vergus: Yes mistress. Larkspur:  and Vergus? don't disappoint me. {cut to Verbena walking into the kingdom gates with Isaiah in tow} Verbena: So let me get this straight.  you got separated from your family and you're here for at least another week until you can find enough reserves for a four day trip on foot back to Corona. Isaiah: That pretty much sums it up yeah… Verbena:  well you're doomed. Isaiah: Wait wha-Verbena! Benny! May I call you Benny? Verbena: no. Isaiah: Benny,  what do you mean I'm doomed!? Verbena:  look I've been surviving on these streets by myself for 2 years.  I have survived starvation, infection, and almost dying of exposure.  I’m a big girl and I can tell just by looking at you, you wouldn't last a day. Isaiah: oh ho really? How so? Verbena:  do I really have to explain?  from what you've been telling me you relied too heavily on the grown-ups around you. you can't do that when you're living on the streets. a street kid has seen no lesser than a rat.  you have to do what you can to survive which means doing things that you aren’t gonna be happy with. Isaiah:  how old are you? Six?  who hurt you? Verbena: actually I'm this many! *holds up fingers*  7 almost 8. my parents died in a house fire. I’ve been living on my own ever since. Isaiah:  why don't you just go to an orphanage? {She grabs his face and pulls him down} Verbena: I WILL NEVER EVER GO TO THAT MEAN PLACE! Isaiah: Okay! Okay! Geez! {she lets go and starts walking before they both hear a grumble; she turns and looks at him} Verbena:  are you kidding me? when was the last time you ate? Isaiah:... on the ship. Verbena: ugghh.. helpless utterly helpless.  come on stinky let's find you something to eat. {Fade to Lily looking out a window from the seat in her room; she sniffles and wipes a tear before a knock is at her door} Cyrus: Lily? It’s me!...it’s all of us really. {Eddard opens the door} Cyrus: Wow rude...she didn’t express we could come in! Eddard: Lily? You okay sis?{Her sister Rosie sits by her} Rosie: Your handmaiden said that you've been turning away all sorts of food even your favorite. Cyrus:  you love lemon meringue pie. Lily:  I just don't feel it… {They all look at each other concerned; Eugene walks in} Eugene: don’t worry guys...I got this. All: Dad! Eugene:  if you guys could give us the room I think your sister needs some one-on-one with her awesome dad. Cyrus: Yes father. {all but Eddard walk out of the room before Cyrus goes back and pulls him out} Eugene: Lily?...sweetheart you can’t keep doing this.  I know it hurts but- Lily:  no you don't know! You can’t possibly know! {Eugene jumps} Lily:  I should have gone with you. Eugene:  no.  that would have been ten times worse.  you could have been killed then. Lily:  maybe then I could have stopped them from killing my best for him. Eugene: there was nothing we could have done.  Lily none of this was your fault. none of this was anyone's fault. it wasn't supposed to happen this way. Lily: I liked ‘saiah… Eugene: I know princess… Lily: no I...I like liked him… Eugene: wait, you...OH...ohh… {Lily sobs} Eugene: oh princess c’mere… {Eugene picks her up and holds her in his lap; she snuggles into his chest} Eugene: It’s gonna be okay..it may not seem like it now but..it..it will...it will {he holds her tighter as it zooms out on them; cut to Varian tiredly exiting his Lab in the castle; he walks a bit before stopping and look up at the giant door he’s passing by; Zapada’s words from that morning ring in his head; he sets his stuff down} Varian:...Herz Der Sonne’s journal. {He looks around before he places a hand on the door} Varian:...I must be outta my damn mind. {Varian opens the door to the room and walks up to the journal; he sighs} Varian: I can’t believe I’m doing this… {He opens the book and flips through it; he stops at a page and stares at it before running his hand over it: he sighs} Varian: ….I really screwed up, huh?  failed to protect you...failed to protect our son.  Seems just yesterday we were here. {He smiles sadly and scoffs} Varian:  I really was still a stupid kid wasn't I?   thinking all of our problems would be solved because we signed a stupid book. {Fade to a flashback of him and Estelle sneaking in the room; Estelle runs over to the journal as Varian closes the door} Estelle:  has anyone seen us? Varian: not from what I've seen. Estelle: Good.  in my opinion, this has to be a private affair. Varian: indeed your grace. Estelle:  Ew don’t call me that. {they chuckle and Estelle opens the journal to a blank page; She then takes a quill but hesitates} Varian: …Estelle? You okay? Estelle: Oh! Y-Yes! Right as rain! Varian: we don't have to do this if you don't want to... I'm not going to hold it against you. Estelle:  no!  I want to do this. the last journal existed for hundreds of years.  I don't want there to only be a record of me being tied to that... Pompous duke!. Varian: won’t people find out? Estelle:  nobody goes back and looks at the other Pages until it's been decades maybe more.  please...Varian. I want to share a page with the man I love. The man I choose. {Varian looks stunned for a second but then his face softens; He takes a Quill and both sign the journal; Estelle kisses him; they stay in each other’s arms} Estelle: Well...it seems to be official now. Varian: yeah… Estelle: for better or for worse… Varian: No matter what happens… {Fade out and cut to the page with their names on it; a tear drips on the page; Varian sniffles and wipes his eyes before staring blankly at the page; with a cold stare he tears the page from the journal and stuffs it in his vest; cut to him walking out of the room and stopping to lean against the wall} Rapunzel: Varian! There you are! We’ve all been looking for you! Varian: for me? How can I help Rapunzel? Rapunzel:....you’re...not gonna like it. {Lance walks forward with a drink bottle} Varian: What is this? Eugene: a drink to share with Noremoth. Varian: ...Excuse me!? Rapunzel: Now Varian, please… Varian: No Hold up! You want me to share a drink with the man that murdered my family!? Eugene: Varian I know your upset with him but- Varian: Upset? you think i’m just UPSET with that man!? i’m 1000x more than that, Eugene! Rapunzel: okay enough! Both of you! Varian, We need information from him. from what we've heard him say he seems to be innocent of most of the crimes here. Varian: what!? Rapunzel:  from what he's been telling us it was mostly Larkspur giving the orders.  Quirin's death was an accident according to him,  he didn't know that Estelle was going to be the first target,  and Isaiah fell off the cliffs when Noremoth wasn't anywhere near him. It's the only information he was willing to give us. Lance:  he just keeps asking us to kill him and be done with it. Keira: and why don't we!?  okay so my Quirin's death was an accident but that means he still tried to kill Varian! And look at Catalina! Rapunzel:  I promise you, there will be consequences for him but right now his information is invaluable. If we're going to avenge Isaiah and anyone else that was killed at the cults hand we’re going to need his help. {Varian eyes the bottle before walking off with it} Catalina: Varian just...just don’t hurt him too bad… Varian:...no promises. {Cut to Isaiah in the marketplace of the dark kingdom} Isaiah: geez... bread here is so expensive. Verbena:  that's cause wheat doesn't do well here so we have to im-..im… Isaiah: ...Import? Verbena: yeah! import it from other kingdoms. Isaiah: seriously how are you alive? Verbena: I guess i’m just smarter than you. Isaiah: you little- Verbena: shh!...look! Isaiah: what? {She points to a small bag of moldy bread} Verbena: It's all we got. Isaiah: how are we going to the new convince him to sell us- {Verbena rushes in and grabs it before taking off} Baker: STOP! THIEF! Isaiah: BENNY!? Verbena: Lets go! {they both run through the street weaving around people as the baker chases them; At one point Benny trips and picks up as much of the bread as she can; The baker goes to grab her but Isaiah picks up an apple from a cart and throws it, hitting him in the nose} Baker: Filthy street pest! You broke my nose! Augh! {Isaiah runs up to her and pulls her into the alleyway} Verbena:...well...that could’ve gone better. Isaiah: Yeah i’ll say! What in the hell was any of that!? Verbena: I was getting us food! Isaiah: By stealing it!? I have coin! I could have bought food! Verbena: if I knew that I would have let you but like I said before, You gots to do things you don't like! Isaiah: Screw that!  I've never once even considered stealing food! if need be I would have gone to the forest and searched for food or dug in a trash can! I never would have stolen from anyone! now look what I did I broke some poor man's nose for you! Verbena:  and because of that we have dinner.  when it comes to survival sometimes you gotta be bad. Isaiah:  I would rather risk everything than hurt someone again! Verbena:...Again? {Isaiah jumps at his own words and gently touches his scar; Verbena sighs and hands him a stale roll of bread from the bag} Verbena:  ...here... just eat it. {Isaiah swipes the roll and takes a bite; Verbena grabs her own roll and picks the mold off before eating; she hears sniffles and looks over to see Isaiah wiping his eyes as he eats} Verbena:...why me? {She walks over and plops down by him eating her bread; Isaiah looks over to her leaning on him} Verbena:...sorry... {he smiles and leans on her as they eat; cut to Varian outside Noremoths door at night; Pete unlocks it for him and he walks in} Noremoth: Well.. this is a surprise.

Varian: be quiet… Noremoth:  did you really just walk in here just to tell me to shut up? Varian: and if I did? Noremoth: well not like I can do anything except call you a massive jerk. Varian: you see there's a lot of irony in the idea of you calling me a massive jerk. Noremoth:  whatever... what's that? Varian:  this? {he holds up the bottle} Noremoth:  no the Dancing Cockatoo on your head.. yes the bottle! Varian: thought you could use a drink. I can't imagine the water down here is very sanitary. Noremoth: What is it? Varian: I have absolutely no clue but all I know is it doesn't smell very good. Noremoth: then it is my kind of speed. {Varian pours two glasses and goes to hand him one} Varian: oh...wait… Noremoth: Yes Varian... I'll just levitate the glass with my unicorn powers. Varian: oh shut up… {He goes to unlock his wrists; Noremoth rubs them; Varian hands him the drink and he sits down on the ground with him} Varian: well this brings back memories. Noremoth:  drinking in a Cell brings back memories? Varian: the cell itself dingus...  I forget...it's been what.. 18..19 years… Noremoth:  yes I've heard your story.  I believe we only met after the death of Zhan tiri.  you went traveling right? Varian:  I was gifted the title of Royal engineer. but I needed a break from Corona after everything that happened.  I decided to go on a scientific Expedition.  I wanted to learn how the Sun Drop , the Moonstone, and the black rocks had affected other kingdoms.  I also wanted to learn more about me and see if there was a more scientific explanation for all of it. perhaps a new branch of science that we hadn't even discovered yet. Noremoth:  and then we came in and screwed everything up didn't we? {Noremoth smirks and sips his drink} Varian:  you can say that again. instead of a scientific expedition, I found myself trying to thwart you guys every time I entered a new kingdom. Noremoth:  we were very diverse with our recruiting.  Misfits of all the Seven Kingdoms joining together to create a new world order with help from the power of Zhan tiri and a vessel hosting the magic for us. Varian:... why Cassandra? Noremoth:... that was larkspur's doing. I grew up in Corona. I was here for that great battle. Varian:...What? I didn't see you at all. Noremoth: I don't know where I was born but I do know I grew up in an orphanage not too far from Corona.  orphanages paint such a pretty picture.  oh we care for orphaned so therefore we're Saints! puh!... I left the orphanage when I was 12 I couldn't stand it anymore and then I was a street child in Corona.  therefore I was useless.  I was here for everything. Varian: Everything? Noremoth:  yes... everything. how did you make your raccoon that size? Varian:  Okay moving on!  you never answered my question. Noremoth:  right... I told her about how Cassandra was the wielder of the Moonstone and how I saw her come into Corona many times.  I even told her about the time she practically destroyed the whole Kingdom with black rocks.  Larkspur insisted that that was who we had to have his The Vessel. I don't know why but I think it's because she thought she can handle it. Varian:  so why did you join the cult? Noremoth: I left Corona once I was old enough same as you. I met t Larkspur and she told me her ideas. I was sick of being treated differently for things that I couldn't control.  people assuming that I was filthy, uneducated, and just overall waste of space because I was an orphan Street child.  I want to spare future generations of that that's why I joined.  I've always had a code. never hurt women or children. Varian: BUT- Noremoth:  I was never near your son when he fell and that wasn't supposed to happen.  I didn't know that Cassandra’s first kill was Isaiah’s mother.  as for your father... I want you to know that I gave Larkspur hell for that.  I'm sorry. I tried to do good things for the world by joining this cult but it seems that I've only brought misery. I’m...truly sorry about that. {Noremoth picks up his cup; Varian watches him with a despondent look} Noremoth: ...Salut 

Varian:......Salut. {They clink glasses and both take a sip before Varian coughs and sputters and Noremoth laughs; fade to Isaiah leaning against a barrel in the alley asleep; Verbena walks over and kicks him} Isaiah: OW! Hey, what the- Verbena: Sh! C’mon! I gots to show you something! {Isaiah rolls his eyes and follows; she leads him out into the dark barren street} Isaiah: ...Okay, I'm out here now what? Verbena:  any second now… {They stand for a minute or two; Isaiah goes to say something to her but then notices a glow; He looks up to see colours dancing in the sky} Isaiah: Whoa... aurora borealis… Verbena: what? Isaiah:  Aurora Borealis is also known as the Northern Lights I read about it in my books back home.  I didn't know the dark Kingdom had such a cool view of it. Verbena:  I overheard some grown-up say that the lights only started appearing after the black rocks disappeared. that was way before I was born. Isaiah: and how old do you think I am? that's before I was born to! Verbena:  you're old and stinky! {Isaiah smirks and tickles her; she squeals and giggles} Isaiah: Oh am I!? I’m old and stinky? Well, you’re tiny and spiteful! {she squeals and giggles; Isaiah smiles and looks up at the sky with a sad smile} Verbena: do you miss your family? {Isaiah turns to look at her} Verbena:  I miss mine too. I miss my mommy. Isaiah:...me too squirt...me too.

[quickeningheart]

Twenty-One

   Alley could hardly sleep that night, tossing and turning in her bed, trying to get comfortable. Her dreams were disjointed and strange. Not outright nightmares, but disturbing nonetheless. It didn’t help that every time she closed her eyes, she found herself back at the lake, wrapped in Throttle’s arms.

   When the clock read four-thirty, she finally gave up and struggled out of bed, yawning widely and raking her fingers through the tangles in her hair. By habit, she reached for the bag of pellets to feed Mercedes, only to remember that she was no longer there. Grumbling, she gathered the supplies, tossed them into the cage, and carried the entire contraption to her closet and shoved it inside. There, she decided. Out of sight, out of mind.

   Still half-asleep, she threw on her robe and stumbled out to the kitchen to fix herself some coffee. She considered making eggs, decided she wasn’t awake enough to risk fiddling with Charley’s ancient, temperamental stove, and settled for cold cereal instead. That early in the morning, there wasn’t much of anything on. She stared listlessly at reruns of the Twilight Zone, ate her Cheerios, and tried to decide what to do next about her college situation.

   Next thing she knew, she found herself jerking awake as the floor shook and rumbled; someone was opening the garage door. Realizing she’d dozed off, she glanced at the wall clock to see that it read quarter to seven. “Morning, sunshine,” Charley called from the kitchen as heavy footsteps pounded up the stairs.

   “And a good morning to you, too, Beautiful,” Vinnie announced cheerfully as he wrapped his tail around Charley's waist to pull her in for a hug.

   She rolled her eyes and gave his chest a light swat. “I wasn’t talking to you,” she teased, untangling herself and striding toward Alley, offering the sleepy blonde a fresh cup of coffee.

   Vinnie crossed his arms with a petulant pout, ears drooping. “I tell ya, I get no love,” he complained to his snickering bros.

   Charley paused on her way back to the kitchen just long enough to reach up and press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Morning, handsome,” she murmured into his ear, causing his entire face to flush pink as the snickers turned into outright laughter.

   Alley ignored their antics and sipped her coffee, wondering if she should go back to bed. She didn’t think she could deal with the obnoxious flirting today. She risked a quick peek over the back of the couch. Throttle leaned against the wall, arms crossed and one leg propped, the very picture of casual aloofness. He was very carefully not looking at her. She sighed and turned around again.

   “Oh, yeah. I found this in the mail slot this morning.” Charley waved a white cardboard envelope with the Fed Ex logo stamped on it, tossing it onto the coffee table in front of her cousin.

   “Mom overnighted them? That had to be expensive.” Frowning, Alley slit open the envelope and pulled out a thin stack of papers, looking them over. “I dunno, Charley. You think old report cards and homework papers will really be enough to convince them I was set up?” she asked doubtfully.

   “All you can do is try,” her cousin replied. “Ask your friends to get you in to see the dean. He’s their father, right? If you explain to him, I’m sure he’ll be willing to help.”

   “Yeah, okay. I’ll stop by the college today and see if Chex can help me out. Or maybe Chris. He seems to have more influence with his parents.” Alley could only hope he’d be willing to help her. Given his reaction last night, she wasn’t too sure he’d be willing to even talk to her. The thought left a sour feeling in her stomach. “I’m gonna go change,” she mumbled, standing. As she passed Throttle, she gave him a hopeful glance and a small smile. His gaze slid her way, and she saw his eyes widen behind his field specs as he gave her a long once-over.

   "What?" She glanced down at herself, wondering what was wrong. Did she spill coffee on her pajamas or something?

   “Nothin’,” he muttered, pushing off the wall and wandering into the kitchen. Stung, she looked at Modo and Vinnie, who merely shrugged, looking as confused as she felt. She shook her head, turned and stomped to her room. Whatever. Her situation with Throttle would have to wait for a bit. She had more important things to deal with at the moment.

     ~*~*~*~*~

   Three hours later, Alley plopped down on a bench under an oak tree on the East Campus and tried not to give in to frustrated tears. She had taken a cab to the campus hoping to see Mr. Archer, but had been firmly rebuffed by the ever-vigilant Mary. Meetings all day, she’d said. Not to be disturbed.

   Alley had next tried texting Chex, only to discover that her class schedule was booked full until well into the afternoon. Finally, she’d tried texting Chris. As she’d feared, he refused to respond. Nor did he answer when she tried to call. She told herself it was probably because he was in class and had the phone turned off, but part of her knew it was more than that.

   “Wow. You look like the whole world just imploded.”

   Startled, Alley glanced up to find Chex bouncing toward her, dressed in skin-hugging black jeans and an electric blue, medieval-looking corset blouse with long bell sleeves. The outfit was finished off with a pair of studded biker boots and a lace choker studded with blue metallic roses.

   “You goin’ on a date?” she teased, raising an eyebrow.

   The redhead plopped down beside her. “The step-monster insisted I dress ‘classy’ for school.” She grinned, holding out her arms. “This is me bein’ classy.” She riffled around her leather bag and pulled out a canned coffee. “Want one? I’ve got like six of ‘em in here.”

   “Isn’t that heavy?”

   “Sure. But it works great as a weapon to beat off my countless admirers.” She grinned and popped the tab, taking a long swig. “Ahhh, caffeine. The ambrosia of life for college students everywhere,” she sighed.

   Alley laughed, accepting a can of mocha espresso and taking a sip.

   “So, you get anywhere with Pops?”

   She sighed. “No. Mary refused to let me in. I tried calling Chris but … he won’t answer. I think he’s kinda disgusted with me.”

   “Oh, don’t worry about him. He’s a spaz but he’s cool. He’ll come around. Eventually.” Chex took another swig out of her can. “And if he doesn’t, I’ll just beat some sense into him, is all.” She finished off the coffee and tossed the can into a nearby garbage bin. “This whole thing is just weird. I mean, I don’t ever remember a student getting kicked out and being accused of cheating after the term already started. They usually catch it way ahead of time. Someone really dropped the ball on that one. Their ass better get fired.”

   “Except I didn’t cheat,” Alley grumbled. “I was totally set up. Charley thinks my files were hacked through the school system. And the guys think Limburger has something to do with it. I think I was just the victim of a prank or something.”

   “Hmmm…” Chex tipped her head back. “Speaking of the Purple People Eater, I haven’t seen him around campus lately. Not for a week or two, at least. Even his smelly goons stopped showing up. Little weird under the circumstances, dontcha think?”

   “That could just be coincidence.”

   “Or maybe the guys are on to something. Like, what if it was a setup? An inside job! What if Limburger promised to leave the school alone if someone, like, changed all your records or something?”

   “But why?” Alley huffed a frustrated sigh. “What purpose would doing that serve? The school sits on valuable property, and Limburger’s entire purpose for being here is to strip-mine choice property for his own planet’s needs. He’d stand to lose a lot more than he’d gain by promising to leave it alone, just to ruin the reputation of one student.”

   “It is a conundrum. Lucky for you, I love a good mystery. So I’ll help you solve this one! I can go undercover, snoop around in the office files and stuff for clues. There’re advantages to being the dean’s kid, you know.” Chex slung a conspiratorial arm around Alley’s shoulders. “And in exchange,” she added with a smirk, “you can tell me all about your hot date with Throttle.” She batted her heavily-lined eyes and affected a Valley Girl accent. “So, like, are you two, like, going steady?"

   “Not hardly. He has a girlfriend.”

   She winced, removing her arm. “Ooh. Ouch.”

   Alley snorted. “You can say that again.” She fiddled with the can in her hands. “It’s all awkward between us now. I don’t think he knows what to say to me.”

   “Well, no wonder. I mean, he cheated on his girl.”

   “He didn’t cheat!” Alley blushed when Chex raised an eyebrow at her outburst. “I mean … not really. I didn’t sleep with him, if that’s what you’re thinking. But I guess what we did do was bad enough.”

   “Too bad.” Chex smirked. “Goin’ by what I saw last night, I bet it would’ve been hot.” She tugged at the collar of the dark purple lace blouse Alley had thrown on over a black camisole, to hide the majority of the bruises.

   Alley stared at her. “You don’t think it’s … weird? Me making out with a giant mouse?”

   “Please.” Chex laughed. “You’ve never met my friends. You ain’t seen weird until you meet a guy with metal spikes drilled into his skull. He can switch 'em out and everything! Last I saw him, he had a rainbow on his head. It was awesome.”

   Alley giggled, finishing off her coffee and tossing the can. “That definitely sounds … colorful. By the way, aren’t you supposed to be in class?”

   “Yeah, I’ve got one starting any second now. I was on my way when I saw you sitting here being all mopey.”

   “Won’t you get in trouble for being late?”

   “Pfft. What’re they gonna do, kick the dean’s kid outta the classroom?”

   Alley’s lips twitched. “Noooo … but the professor might complain to your dad about it. Or worse. Your step-mom.”

   “Oh. That’s a good point.” Chex picked up her bag and hopped to her feet. “Sorry, girl. Love to stay and keep prying info outta you, but I’ve got creative writing to attend."

   “Have fun! Guess I’ll call a cab back to the garage in the meantime. Nothing else I can do here, for now.”

   “You’re not getting a pickup?”

   “Charley needs her truck, and frankly, the thought of getting on the back of one of those motorcycles again freaks me the hell out. Those guys are scary when they ride!”

   “Damn. I’m jealous.” Chex sniggered at Alley's expression. “Look, there’s a shuttle that transports students between the campuses. It shows up in front of the Atrium like every two hours. Just ride that to the city campus and catch a bus line from there to the garage. Way cheaper than a cab.”

   “Isn’t that for the students, though?”

   “Uh, hello. You are a student. At least you will be when this crap gets sorted out. You still have your ID, right? Just flash it at the driver and hop on. Not like he’d know the difference.”

   “Sure. I’ll do that. Thanks.”

   “Right. Well, gotta book. Later!” Chex turned and made a mad dash for the nearest building, leaving Alley alone on the bench.

   She sighed and got up, trudging toward the Atrium and trying her best to look like an aloof, bored student just waiting for a ride as she leaned against the wall, arms crossed. She jumped a bit when her phone suddenly buzzed, pulled it from her pocket to find a message from Chex.

           Oh, yeah. Almost forgot. I told the step-monster about your jewel stuff. Here’s her business email address. Mail her a pic of the necklace and any other pieces you have  and tell her you’re looking for appraisal with interest in selling. Trust me, she’ll be ALL over it. Later!

   Alley smiled and put the phone away. Well, one thing seemed to be going right, at least. Charley would be glad to hear the news.

     ~*~*~*~*~

   Chex was right about the shuttle. When the short white bus finally pulled up, Alley took a fortifying breath, flashed her most innocent smile and her student ID, and made beeline to the very back of the vehicle when the driver hardly gave her a glance. Three other students boarded with her; none of them paid her any attention, and she relaxed.

   She found herself dozing on the ride back into the city, jerked awake when the bus pulled to a stop and the other passengers noisily got up and filed off. She grabbed her bag and hastily followed, finding herself in front of a tall, gleaming skyscraper of a school. She released a breath and pulled her phone, using its GPS to locate the nearest bus route. There was one only two blocks over. Hiking her bag over her shoulder, she started to walk. She’d barely taken ten steps, however, before a horribly familiar voice brought her up short.

   “Well, well, young lady. We meet yet again.”

   Alley froze, a shiver trembling up her spine as a gaudy Rolls Royce pulled up to the curb beside her. The faint whiff of rotten fish drifted through the open window, making her nose itch and a hard sneeze threaten to erupt; she forced it back by sheer willpower, stepping further away from the curb as the limo’s suicide door swung open and Limburger’s gleaming eyes peered out at her from the shadowed exterior of the car. Those eyes reminded her of a shark, cold and lifeless. So did his wide smile, all teeth and false charm.

   “Lawrence Limburger. What an … unexpected surprise,” she said, relieved when her voice sounded steady and calm.

   “Yes. Quite,” he responded. “If you would be so kind, I do wonder if you might spare a few moments of your time?”

   The chills grew stronger and Alley swallowed, hard. “I’m in a bit of a hurry, I’m afraid. Got a bus to catch—”

   “Oh, this won’t take long. I merely wish to discuss some business with you. A few minutes, that is all I require. If you would kindly take a seat?” He gestured to the cushy bench seat across from him.

   “Hasn’t anyone ever told you that getting into cars with complete strangers is a terribly bad idea? I’m afraid I’ll have to pass. Send me a letter. I’m sure you know where to address it.” She started to back away, only to be brought up short as something hard poked firmly into her back. Startled, she glanced over her shoulder … and nearly had a heart attack as a huge, smelly goon dripping grease and dressed in filthy overalls leered down at her.

   “Da boss asked yas nicely ta gets in da car, girly,” he growled, prodding harder with the gun. “So gets in.”

   “My associate, Greasepit.” Limburger gave a dismissive wave. “Best do as he says. He’s not a particularly good shot, but at this range I doubt even he can miss.”

   Heart sinking, Alley reluctantly climbed into the limo and curled up on the seat across from the Plutarkian, calling herself all sorts of stupid. She should’ve bolted the moment she’d heard his voice, but how was she supposed to know he’d be ballsy enough to grab her in broad daylight, in the middle of downtown Chicago?

   The door slammed shut, and the car pulled from the curb, merging into traffic as horns blared and tires screeched to avoid collision. The interior of the limo was frigid, the air conditioning turned up full-blast. And even that couldn’t quash the thick, maelstrom stench of too many air fresheners, old cigars, and the rancid, toe-curling odor of rotting seafood. Alley breathed shallowly and tried her best not to be sick all over Limburger’s nice, purple-upholstered seat. “So, you wanted to talk. So talk,” she snapped, affecting a bravado she was far from feeling at the moment.

   "Oh, don’t be tiresome,” Limburger sniffed. “No need to look at me like that. After all, we’re not, in fact, complete strangers. You know me, I’m sure. And I do know all about you, Miss Allyson Kelly Davidson.” His smile reappeared. “Or, should I say … Parker?”

   Alley blinked in surprise.

   “I hear you’ve been having some … difficulty in regards to your educational endeavors these days,” he continued, his voice practically dripping well-feigned sympathy.

   Her eyes narrowed. “You heard that, huh? Boy, bad news sure travels fast.”

   “Indeed. And I believe I may be of some assistance in regards to this particular issue. I am, after all, quite influential in this city. A well-respected citizen. An entrepreneur. An—"

    “—illegal alien?” Alley cut in sweetly. At his raised eyebrow, she pasted on her most innocent expression. “I’ve heard rumors.”

   His thick lips curled. “In point of fact, a few phone calls and some words from me will go quite a long way to restoring your academic reputation to its former glory. I daresay your scholarship funding will be reinstated, your classes rescheduled, and it will be as if this little … mishap never occurred in the first place.”

   Alley pursed her lips. “Uh-huh. And you’re going to do this for me from the overwhelming generosity of your heart, I suppose?”

   He snorted. “Don’t be absurd, Miss Parker—”

   “It’s Miss Davidson to you.”

   “Now, now. Let us keep our tempers, shall we?” His smile was cold. “As I was saying, I am a businessman, and this is a business proposition. I can give you what you want. And if my many sources are to be believed, you can give me something I want, in exchange.”

   “And that would be…?”

   “Information.”

   She waited for the addendum. When none was forthcoming, she frowned. “Information,” she repeated. “That’s it?”

   “Quite.” Limburger removed a small tin from his pocket, selected a sample of its contents, and slurped down what looked like a limp noodle. Then, noting his guest’s stare, he offered the tin to her. “Would you care for a taste? They are the very finest quality.”

   Alley leaned in for a closer look, curious despite herself … and instantly recoiled when the contents squirmed.

   Limburger chuckled, clearly pleased by her reaction. “They are called Plutarkian Slug Worms,” he explained. “Although the name is a bit misleading as they're completely earthen in origin. My own creation, actually. Genetically spliced from your common earthworms and garden-variety slugs, with just a pinch of snail thrown in. The taste is exquisite.” He sighed blissfully, and Alley shuddered. “They are considered quite the rare delicacy on Plutark, which means, of course, that I can charge a large fortune for a small sample, and Plutarkians will pay through the gills to obtain it.” He slurped down another worm with relish. “Are you certain you would not care for a taste?”

   “No thanks. I just ate,” Alley muttered, shrinking back into her seat, not even trying to hide her disgust.

   “Your loss.” He snapped the tin closed. "As I was saying," he continued, "my sources have informed me that you and I share a common acquaintance with a certain trio of, shall we say ... individuals."

   Alley decided there was no point in pretending; he’d obviously done his homework and knew exactly who she was. “I’m assuming you’re talking about the Biker Mice,” she replied, crossing one leg over the other and folding her hands primly atop her knee.

   “Indeed. Those destructive, flea-ridden miscreants and their overbearing machismo! Pestilent parasites, the lot of them!” he snarled, slamming his fist against the seat, before remembering himself and clearing his throat. “But, ironically enough, it is not them I have vested interest in.” He straightened his tie. “There has been a fourth mouse seen coming and going these past few weeks. A rather infamous leader of their little rebel band. He’s been on earth before, but never for such prolonged periods. So, I must say I am quite curious to know what he’s been about these days. Perhaps you can satisfy my curiosity?”

   Alley pursed her lips, considered … then shrugged. “If you’re talking about Stoker, he isn’t their general anymore. He retired. His niece has taken over. Or so I’ve been told.”

   “Yes, yes, I know all that already,” he snapped, waving her off irritably. “What I want to know is why he came to earth and what he’s been up to down here!”

   She shrugged again. “I can’t tell you that. I have no idea what he gets up to. Nobody does. He’s very hush hush about the whole thing.”

   “Ah, but he is up to something, isn’t he?” Limburger smiled evilly. “Slippery as an eel, that one. Coming and going at all hours. Oh, I’ve had him followed but he’s too wily and too cautious for that. Gives me the slip every time. Infuriating, really. But! I know he is working on something big, which might possibly tip the balance of power out of Plutark’s favor and turn the war around, and that simply will not do.”

   Alley shifted uncomfortably. “Well, like I said, I don’t know anything, so I’m afraid I can’t help you. Can I get out now?”

   “But we are not finished conversing yet,” Limburger purred. “You may not know anything now, but my sources inform me that Stoker seems to have taken quite a … fancy to you.” His lips pulled into a sneer. “Use your feminine wiles! Charm the information out of him. If he’s anything like those other rodents, he’ll be putty in your pretty little hands.”

   “You want me to seduce him?” Alley felt her face slowly turning red.

   “Oh, nothing so tawdry as that,” he sniffed. “Simply cozy up to him, simper and flatter and pull the information from his besotted brain before he even realizes he’s let it slip. Then, pass it on to me.” He reached into his jacket, withdrew a foil-embossed business card and offered it to her. “When you find the answers I seek, come see me here. You give me whatever information you’ve obtained, I make those phone calls, and voila, your credibility and your scholarship is fully restored.”

   Alley accepted the card, frowning. “And what do you plan to do with the information?” she asked.

   “That, my dear girl, is hardly your concern. Your job shall be quite finished by then.”

   She pursed her lips. “I still don’t see why I should help you. You’ve made my cousin’s life a living hell, trying to take her garage. Helping you would be the same as betraying her.”

   “And why should that matter?” he sniffed. “After all, it isn’t as though you’re really cousins, now is it, Miss Parker?”

   Alley flushed, opening her mouth to retort, but a command from Limburger had the car lurching toward the curb, throwing her off-balance as the brakes slammed on and brought it to a screeching halt. The driver door banged, and a few moments later, the passenger door swung open. She cringed away at the sight of the three-eyed … thing in a driver’s cap grinning up at her. It held the door open with one arm and gestured at her to exit with the tentacle that made up its other. “Watch your step,” the creature intoned cheerfully as she hastily scrambled from the limo.

   “Do consider my proposition carefully,” Limburger called after her. “You have much to gain by your cooperation, you know. The restoration of your scholarly endeavors could be only the beginning! Why, a man of my wealth and influence could—”

   “Okay, I get the point!” she snapped, stuffing the card into her pocket. “Just … gimme a bit. I’ve gotta think it over. Stoker’s not an idiot, you know.”

   “Of course,” he purred, lips curling into a triumphant smirk. “And I need not tell you to keep our little rendezvous between just the two of us. After all, as they say, discretion is the better part of valor.”

   “Great. An alien fish who quotes Shakespeare,” she muttered as the car moved on with a screech of rubber. She glanced around, realizing with uneasy shock that she'd been dropped off in a rather unsavory section of town. The buildings were far more rundown, the roads pitted and cracked, and the population seemed to be nonexistent. Cursing under her breath, she pulled up her GPS again to locate Charley’s garage, finding with surprise that she stood only six blocks away from it.

   Unfortunately, those six blocks happened to be in the wrong direction from the nearest bus station; she’d have to walk past her destination in order to catch a bus. Looked like she was gonna have to hoof it. At least, she thought dryly, the hike would give her time to air out the stench she was sure had seeped into her clothes and hair by then. As it was, she probably wouldn't be smelling anything but dead fish for the next few days. Ugh. Talk about an appetite killer.

   Sighing heavily, she began trudging toward the Last Chance Garage, wondering just how much weirder her life could possibly get.

Next

[purplesurveys]

772

What was the last thing you threw at someone? A piece of meat for my dog to run for. Well, walk and sniff around for. He’s an old guy and doesn’t run anymore unless we’re taking him out for a walk. Do you follow recipes? I always certainly have to, since I don’t have any one dish memorized. I’ll start off with a collection of recipes for sure, but I’m hopeful that I’ll be at least a decent cook over the next few years. Where's the last place you had an itch? The area behind my knee.

Do you look people in the eye when you talk to them? It’s always important to have eye contact to show you’re paying attention so yeah. But I know it can get uncomfortable for most people at some point – and me – so I’ll give my eyes a break and look at their forehead, their nose, the space between their eyes, etc. When you look into someone's eyes, can you see their pain? Uh no, I don’t look that intensely lmao. And even then, I’ve learned over the years that most people are very good in hiding or playing off their true emotions that even if I try to find something off, I’ll likely turn up with nothing.

When was the last time you sneezed? Midnight today. How do you act under pressure? It will depend on how much there is to do and how much time there is left. I don’t have one permanent behavior for every time I feel pressured, which is pretty often. Who did you last say "I love you" to? My dog. Do you ever call people just to hear the sound of their voice? Yes, back when everything was normal I’d sometimes call my girlfriend just to drop by and say hi, and also because our schools are a little far apart and I’ll miss her in the middle of the day. School usually stresses her out so I do that as a pick-me-up for her. When was the last time you used a glue stick? January maybe? Our profs always ask us to submit index cards with our contact details and a 1x1 photo at the start of the semester, so there’s a good chance I asked to borrow glue from someone to paste my photo onto the card. What was the last startling noise you heard? Some dipshit on my Twitter feed decided it was good fun to share a jumpscare disguised as an innocent, cute video at 3 AM. I was mad about it then and I’m still mad as hell about it now lol. Do you ever look back at your yearbooks? I did this a lot as a kid. Idk why, I found it interesting to get to know the people in my school and read their write-ups I guess. I stopped looking back on them precisely because I did it too much when I was younger. Do you ever want to be prom queen/king? No. I did not give a shit about prom at all. I really would’ve happily skipped out on it but my school is a complete killjoy and made both attendance and bringing a date mandatory for everyone. No stags, can you believe it? It’s like when Captain Holt from Brooklyn Nine Nine said “Have a good time, I specifically requested it” lol Are you tired? Tired of this quarantine, yes. But I took a nap not too long ago so I’m not feeling to sleepy in that sense. Have you ever ran from the police? I haven’t done anything for them to have to do run after me, so no. Are you afraid of clowns? Not really. I was never exposed to them much so I always just saw them as people in heavy makeup that do balloon animals and other funny tricks. Have you ever written on someone's face in your yearbook? HAHA yes. When my sister and I were kids we bickered a lot, and in one of our fights I thought it’d be funny to doodle on her kinder portrait. She didn’t think so and she started wailing - just in time, I heard my mom coming home and I had to think fast so my sister a) stopped crying and b) wouldn’t tell on me. So I did the stupidest thing and also doodled on my own prep portrait to make her feel better. She calmed down and my mom never found out. When was the last time you made dinner? I *helped* my dad make dinner a few months ago. I haven’t completed a meal myself. Do you have any special plans coming up? They’re gonna be mellowing down the lockdown rules in my province by the 15th and I’m really hoping to see Gabie soon. Realistically I doubt it would happen as I don’t think both our parents would agree to it, but it’s still nice to keep hoping. Did you just lose the game? Yep, but I really only found out about this game from Reddit a few months ago and I didn’t grow up having to play it, so I’m never all too pissed off or like emotionally invested in general whenever I lose it haha. What is a class at school you are interested in taking? There are global studies electives that I was unaware of until someone told me to take them after I enrolled for my last sem in collefge. There are courses on Turkish culture, global gastronomy, and they also had past courses on ‘Diversity on Perspectives on Peace and Conflict,’ ‘Cultures of Disasters,’ and ‘Cultures and their Global Entanglements.’ They all sound right up my alley and am disappointed no one told me sooner. Do you hold on to your dreams? Some of them, the ones I know I have a chance of attaining. Obviously I’ve had to let some go, like wanting to go to the moon or becoming a firefighter. Do you follow rules or break them? Follow. I don’t like getting into trouble. Is there someone you are dying to see? A lot of people. Who do you want to be buried next to? I’ve given this zero thoughts. Are you double-jointed? Nope. Did your dream last night involve blood? It didn’t. I’m not even sure what my dreams were anymore. Who was the last person to yell at you? My mom, probably. How do you feel about the new president? I wouldn’t call him new, he’s in the latter half of his term now. I hate him and I hope he dies soon. Do good things come to those who wait? Sure, it can happen. What is the last song you played on iTunes? I haven’t used that in a while. The last one I listened to on Spotify was Sudden Desire by Hayley Williams. Petals For Armor is still on loop, surprise. What is the last thing you looked up on youtube? I was showing my sister the hilarious Vine of Beyoncé where she thanks a talk show host who tells her “You are Beyoncé,” as if it was a compliment looooool, so I looked up “you are beyonce thank you.” When is the last time you went to the grocery store? March 9th. What is your favorite fish? Tuna or eel for raw fish, tilapia for cooked. What kind of calendar do you have? A digital one. Have you ever been two hours late for school? Oh hell no. I’ve been late before, but if it’s as dramatic as being an hour late I usually just cut class to save myself the embarassment of having to do the walk of shame entering the class. What is your favorite stuffed animal that you own? I don’t have any stuffed animals. Who did you hang out with yesterday? My family, as has been the case since March. Has anyone stolen your heart yet? Yes. Have you ever won a gold medal? No. I’ve won first place before, but they didn’t issue out gold medals. Do you have any trophies? Also no. Do you work out? I don’t. When you introduce yourself, do you give hand shakes? Sometimes, but tbh I just picked it up from Gabie who’s a big hand-shaker. I preferably wouldn’t cause it seems so formal to me. Is there a limit to how many best friends you have? Yeah, like I wouldn’t want to have a lot; I like keeping my immediate circle small. I’m more than content with my two best friends. When's the last time you went to a dance? 2016. What grade are you in? Soooooooooo unbelievably close to graduating college. Are you in a band? I’m not and haven’t been. Have you ever been in a talent show? No thanks. Have you ever won a contest? Competitions, yes. Contests, no. How do you feel about germs? I’m quite particular about them. I don’t like sharing clothes with people; I pick which friends get to eat off of my spoon or sip from my straw; I’m super iffy about touching someone else’s keyboard; I really don’t like having to touch other people’s hair and with that is also the fact that I never borrow or lend hair ties. Holy shit so I’m more germaphobic than I thought and all I had to do was list these things down......................... Do you like screamo music? Not really. What does your wallet look like? Pink and a lot thinner now that I haven’t been given an allowance since they stopped school. Do you have any hickeys on you? No. At this point, I really wish I did lmao Would you rather have money or love? Money. I love love, but I won’t deny that I also love being able to afford the lifestyle I want to live haha. Do you have any family pictures hanging on the wall? Not on the wall, but we have several frames lined up on the first few steps of our stairs. Which do you prefer: bath or shower? Bath after a long hard day. Shower most days. Do you have a lamp in your room? I used to, but I removed it after realizing the light just keeps me from falling asleep faster.

Do you have windows vista? No. Do you have the strength to say goodbye forever? I’ll deal with it if I had no choice, but I’ve never handled goodbyes well.

[lilhemmo]

soulmates are people too

pairing: sweet pea x reader request: soulmate!au + blind date!fic word count: 4,076 rated: T+

send me two au’s from THIS list + a ship/character 

The smell of alcohol, sweat, and money floats through the air and you scrunch your nose at the scent. You swallow back another shot, your throat numb at the amount of alcohol floating through your veins. Your best friend left you a couple of songs ago to dance with another hot blonde, so you’re left to your own devices at the bar.

“Another, please?” You toss two fingers in the air and push your shot glass back towards the bartender. She chuckles, bringing over the bottle of whiskey and filling your glass three fingers high.

“Break up? Or death?” she asks you, leaning against the counter.

You sip until half of your shot is gone, “Break up. Cheater.”

“Ooh,” she purses her lips and shakes her head. “The worst.”

“No kidding.”

“You don’t look familiar – you from the Northside?”

You nod your head and contemplate if she’ll tell you to leave or let you stay. You know that even now, years after Jughead became Serpent King and Betty his Queen, there is still a direct line between North and South.

“I’m Toni, by the way,” she reaches out her small hand with a grin. “It’s nice to meet you.”

You shake her hand and go back to the rest of your drink. Your friend comes tumbling back over to the bar to order another martini between giggles. She smiles, “Listen, Bethany is the coolest girl I’ve ever met-”

“Hillary, that’s what you said about Ashley and about-”

“Shhh,” she slurs, another giggle bursting from her lips. She takes the drink from the bartender and leaves a cash tip in return. “I’m not done dancing yet!”

You turn your eyes back to Toni and finally place where she looks familiar from, “You’re Cheryl’s wife, right?”

She nods in response, a light blush tinting her dark-skinned cheeks. Her pink hair makes her look young, but you know better. She and Cheryl were two grades ahead of you in school, you distinctly remember the day that Cheryl “Bombshell” Blossom declared the Southside were nothing but a bunch of thugs and it makes you laugh.

“Seems like there’s a lot of Northside-Southside pairings now,” you muse, twirling around the remaining liquor in your glass. “You and Cheryl, Kevin and Joaquin, Jughead and Betty…”

“Some people don’t care one way or the other.” Toni shrugs, picking up a few glasses to wipe down while the two of you talk. She looks up at you with kind eyes, “Soulmate bonds surely don’t care around here, either. Your ex from the Southside? I can totally get Pea and Fangs to kick his ass.”

“No, no,” you shake your head and laugh. “No, he’s actually from Greendale. And definitely not my soulmate. Never felt the corresponding pain you supposedly feel with your soulmate. Thank God I won’t have to make those trips to Greendale anymore. Not worth the gas money, hones-”

“Topaz, did I hear you say my name?”

Your head turns and you’re met with the tall figure of who you assume to be either Pea or Fangs. You’re sure it’s Fangs, he’s quite intimidating. He’s got dark hair and eyes to match, a brooding sort of atmosphere around him, sitting on his shoulders and weighing the surrounding area. His arms are crossed over his broad chest which is clad in a couple of layers consisting of a t-shirt, flannel, and topped with a Serpent jacket. His tattoo is easy to spot – clear as day on his neck.

“Sweet Pea,” Toni rolls her eyes, “I was going to have you kick this guy’s ass, but apparently he’s not worth the gas money.”

“I have been looking for a reason to bust up my knuckles lately,” Sweet Pea steps forward to sit at the bar next to you. He looks at you, a devilish glint in his eyes, “I don’t mind driving to Greendale to whoop a guy’s ass, honestly.”

Sweet Pea slams his palm on the bar table and you find a swelling amount of pain splintering at your fingers and bleeding down to your wrist. You hold your hand to your chest but stretch out your fingers after the pain subsides.

You lick your lips as a bubble of anxiety rises out of your stomach to lodge into your throat. When you speak, your voice is thick, “Uh, no, really. He, uh, he would get a big head if I sent a gang out to beat him to a pulp. He’d probably brag about it the next day.”

“Wow, guy really does sound like an ass.” Sweet Pea picks up the beer Toni placed in front of him. He gnaws on his lower lip before taking a swig of the drink. “You look new. You don’t come here much, do you?”

“No, I’m just here because my friend wanted to get wasted and dance with hot girls.” You laugh at the statement as soon as it parts from your lips. You down the rest of your drink and lock eyes with Toni to silently ask for a refill. “And here I am, cliché and sitting at a bar, trying to get over a guy who didn’t care enough about me to just break it off instead of dicking around with a bunch of other girls.”

Sweet Pea shakes his head and it’s nice to have someone of the male species on your side even if you hardly know them. He tilts his eyes upward and it looks like he wants to ask you a question, but his lips stay closed unless they curl around the rim of his beer bottle.

“Well,” you toss back your shot and then suck in a breath between your teeth before standing. “I think I’ve had just about enough alcohol to fall into the brink of self-depreciation, so I better get on out of here.”

Sweet Pea raises his bottle to you, “Don’t think too hard, doll. You’re definitely better off without that waste of space. Don’t think any different.”

You smile, a blush painting your cheeks. You nod, “Thanks, Sweet Pea.”

You call an Uber and make your way home, back to the Northside, with a warm feeling in your belly that is definitely not from the alcohol alone.

-

You don’t make your way back to the Southside for a couple of times, no matter how much you want to wander back into that bar and see if your acquaintance Toni can point you in the direction of the tall, handsome Serpent named Sweet Pea.

Your job on the Northside allows for a decent amount of downtime, given that you work an earlier shift than most at the children’s facility. You’re the first one they see in the morning, which means that your shift ends about an hour after naptime is over.

As you go to leave on a Friday, Hillary grabs your arm and pulls you into her room, “I got a date tonight, but since it’s a first date, we’re going in a group. One of the guys doesn’t have a date.”

“Bold of you to assume he’s straight,” you quirk a brow.

Hillary rolls her eyes, “It’s confirmed he’s at least into girls enough to date them. Would you be willing to go with me? I don’t trust anyone else with me if I get blackout drunk.”

“Let’s leave the blackout thing at home tonight, H,” you chuckle. “But yeah, I’ll go. Nothing better to do.”

Later when Hillary shows up at your house to pick you up, you’re biting your nails thinking about who this possibly could be. This will be your first official date after your split with your cheating ex-boyfriend. You can’t help but be a little bit nervous. You haven’t been in the dating scene for a while now thanks to your decently long-term relationship.

“We’re going bowling first,” Hillary chimes as she drives towards the west part of Riverdale. She smiles, “We’ll probably head to the Wyrm afterward. I think Fangs likes to play pool there with his friends.”

The name sounds familiar but you can’t quite place it, so you don’t ask so you don’t sound crazy. Instead, you tilt your head, “The Wyrm?”

“Yeah, it’s that Southside bar we went to before, remember?”

You look out the window and a slow smile creeps onto your lips because maybe, just maybe, even if your date doesn’t go well, you’ll be able to see Sweet Pea at the Whyte Wyrm when it’s over.

The two of you arrive at the bowling alley and walk inside together. You rent your shoes and Hillary points to the lane where your group resides. You notice a certain redhead and her pink-haired companion and you get a little giddier inside. You really enjoyed your conversation with Toni Topaz, however brief it was.

“I have no clue who the guy is that you’re meeting here,” Hillary mentions as you walk towards the group. You count out the couples, but it looks like the person you’re here to meet isn’t here yet because there’s an even number of couples you’re meeting – Toni and Cheryl, Hillary and Fangs, Joaquin and Kevin.

You take a seat and pull on your bowling shoes, sliding your original pair underneath your seat. The palms of your hands start to sweat at the idea of being on a date as the reality settles in. You take a deep breath and run your hands through your hair.

“I’ve heard your date’s pretty hot, I’d be nervous too if I were you.”

Your head snaps up to see the very person you were trying to finagle into seeing standing in front of you. You can’t help the smile that stretches your lips skyward. The urge to reach up and hug him is hard to quell, but you push it down as you stand to your feet.

“I’ve heard your date is pretty hot too,” you snark. “You nervous?”

Sweet Pea lets out a short laugh that sounds more like a bark, “As hell.”

You nudge him with your elbow, “Don’t be. She’s pretty cool.”

The two of you stand together as Cheryl goes about keying everyone’s names into to system to start your first game. You and Sweet Pea occupy two of the seats on the bench, sitting closer than strangers but not too close to look cozy. Toni notices though, because she catches your eye once as Sweet Pea stands to take his turn and she winks at you. She points down at her phone and you pick yours up.

TT: uh so who knew that sweet pea had feelings???

you: idk what you’re talking about dude we’re just having a good time being third wheels together

Toni raises an eyebrow at you and you push your phone back into your pocket as Sweet Pea makes his way back over to you. You notice that he knocked down nine out of the ten pins so you pat him on the shoulder and mock a sincere voice, “Don’t worry, champ, you’ll get ‘um next time.”

He huffs, blowing a breath up to rustle his curl that flops against his forehead. You laugh but don’t move your arm, wondering if what Toni said really was true and Sweet Pea may have a soft spot for you in the same way that you do for him.

Sweet Pea doesn’t move at all, but it is you who moves first because it is your turn to bowl next. You push off using his shoulder and he feigns hurt, making the both of you laugh as you walk toward the rack to pick up your ball and bowl your turn. You get four pins in your first roll, and as you go to roll the second time, you tweak your wrist in a strange way and find a sharp pain surging up your forearm. You massage the area as you come to sit back down.

The group decides to play another game and your wrist is increasingly in more pain as the night goes on. You forfeit your last turn to Joaquin, who manages to get a strike and then the game is over.

Sweet Pea stands to his feet and massages his right wrist, “This is so weird. My wrist is killing me.”

“Pea, aren’t you left-handed?” Toni scoffs, “You big baby, there’s no way you hurt your arm tonight. You just really suck at bowling. Accept it. Let’s get over to the Wyrm.”

The event sticks in your brain and as you walk out to the parking lot, everyone breaks into pairs. Fangs falls into step with Hillary and you find yourself and Sweet Pea stuck in the back. He reaches over with his fingertips and touches your elbow, “Do you wanna ride with me to the Wyrm?”

You look across the parking lot at the cluster of motorcycles that are kept together. You bite your lip and bump him with your hip, “As long as you promise me you’re a safe driver.”

“The safest,” he echoes sarcastically.

You roll your eyes but follow him anyway. He hands you his helmet before mounting the bike and starting it up. When it revs, there’s a jolt of electricity that travels up your spine and splits your lips into a smile. You step forward to sling your leg over, settling in behind him.

“You don’t have cooties, do you?” You make a spectacle about reaching around his waist. He snorts out a laugh, “Sweetheart, if that’s all you’re worried about, I’d say we’re doing all right.”

Your hands rest against his abdomen as you cinch yourself in tighter. He revs the engine and on instinct you press your helmet-covered face into his back. You feel his chest shake with laughter but you can’t be mad because it means you get to be closer to him.

The ride to the Wyrm isn’t long given that you’re already on the Southside. Sweet Pea parks his bike close to the entrance and helps you down off of it, taking your helmet off your head to replace it on his bike. He smiles as you muss with your hair, trying your hardest to get it to return to the state it was in before you stuffed it in a helmet.

“You look great.” He offers his arm around your shoulders and you step into his side like you’ve been doing it your whole life.

Cheryl, Toni, Joaquin and Kevin are already inside, pre-gaming at the bar where FP himself is pouring shots. When you and Sweet Pea walk through those wood doors, it’s like Hell has frozen over because everyone turns their attention to the door to stare at the two of you.

“What’re you looking at?” Pea snaps, his eyes and tone sharp as steel.

All of the Serpents go back to whatever it is that they’re doing, drinking or betting or playing pool. Sweet Pea drops his arm from around your shoulders and goes to the bar to grab drinks. You follow Hillary to the table in the corner, slotting in beside Toni and Cheryl.

Kevin brings out a pack of cards and you play innocent blackjack games, taking shots and conversing with each other. The topic of soulmates is brought up and you feel Sweet Pea bristle beside you.

“When I found out that TT was my soulmate, I was absolutely over the moon,” Cheryl kisses Toni’s cheek and blushes bright red. “Who knew that falling at cheer practice would lead me to my person who I’m forever destined to be with.”

“I think it’s stupid,” Sweet Pea speaks up, turning his beer bottle around in his hands as he refuses to look at anyone.

Fangs rolls his eyes and sighs, “Here we go. Can you not just let people have this one thing, Pea?”

“Who the hell has the right to tell me who I’m supposed to end up with for the rest of my life? Why don’t I get to decide?” he snaps, looking up at his best friend. He snorts, “Brought all these Northsiders to the Southside, screwing with the way we do things here.”

You find yourself hurt by his comment, your heart wrenching in your chest. You’ve always believed in soulmates, almost religiously, because your mother and father had been soulmates and they got along perfectly. It’s a beautiful thing, you’d thought, because it meant that someone, somewhere out there was made just right for you.

“Just because Serpents fall in love doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing, Sweets.” Toni shuffles the deck in her manicured hands. She licks her lips, “I don’t know where I’d be without Cheryl.”

“You’d be here, in the Southside, exactly where you are anyway,” Sweet Pea shrugs. He shakes his head, “It’s just a load of crap if you ask me. Making people feel like they’re bound to someone they’ve never met before they even figure out who they are themselves.”

You shrink down in your seat, trying your hardest to keep the color in your cheeks a secret and also to keep your tears at bay. This guy who you thought was picture perfect despite what he does in the shadows is now destroying the very ideals that you hold very dear.

Fangs reaches across the table and slams his fist into Sweet Pea’s arm, “Man, you’re being a dick. Shut up and let’s move on.”

Simultaneously, the exact same spot on your right arm begins to throb. You can’t help it when you react to cradle the spot as tears spring to your eyes. You wince, sitting up in your seat.

Toni makes eye contact with you and her irises are wide as she motions between you and Sweet Pea. You tilt your head but slowly you begin to catch on. You turn to look at Fangs, “Do that again.”

Sweet Pea’s head swivels to you and his jaw goes slack, “Excuse me?”

Fangs smirks and reaches across the table to slam his fist into Sweet Pea’s bicep again, this time harder. As soon as the punch lands on Pea’s skin, you feel the same hurt and everything begins to fall into place.

The breath leaves your lungs as you whisper one word: “Soulmate.”

You shake your head, “I-I gotta go.”

Pushing past everyone in the room, you make your way out of the Wyrm and back into the night air. The coolness of the night brings some clarity to your mind. You remember Sweet Pea complaining about his wrist during the bowling matches, but it didn’t make any sense then. It does now.

Just as quickly as you begin to get excited about finally finding your soulmate, every word that Sweet Pea said about soulmates rolls through your mind like a credit scene. You can’t help the tears that spill over onto your cheeks. You feel another striking pain on your bicep and you figure that Fangs probably his Sweet Pea again for not understanding sooner.

You schedule an Uber to come and pick you up while you wait on the front porch of the Wyrm. You pace back and forth, running your hands through your hair and over your face, wondering how you got a soulmate who doesn’t even want you.

Your name is called from behind you and you swivel to face him.

“Look, what I said back there-”

“Was the truth,” you shrug, sniffling. You wipe under your eyes and take a deep breath to settle yourself before you speak again. Your voice is thick, “You said what you felt, Sweet Pea, and I can’t fault you for that. I get it, soulmates aren’t for everyone.”

Your Uber pulls up behind you and your phone dings with the notification. You smile at him sadly, “It was nice while it lasted, at least.”

Sweet Pea can’t force any words out of his lips because he’s too stunned at the fact that he found his soulmate and he actually likes you. He never expected to care about his soulmate before he knew who they were. He never thought that he would meet his soulmate and actually want to spend more time with them. Instead of fighting for you to stay, he just watches on as you seat yourself in the car and drive off into the darkness of the Southside.

You find yourself in another funk after just getting yourself out of one. How in the world did you manage to meet one of the few soulmates in the world that wants nothing to do with being one? You try to distract yourself with making lesson plans and working on cool snacks that the kids will love, but you find that your heart is empty and your body aches the more you throw yourself into your work.

You’re on the playground one morning, watching as the children climb and swing, when your walkie-talkie begins to buzz. You pick it up and respond, awaiting the voice on the other side.

“Uh, there is a-Southside Serpent here to see you,” your administrator speaks into the other line. You shake your head, wondering how in the world Sweet Pea found you here. You pick up the walkie-talkie and ask just for clarity, “His name?”

“Well, uh, it’s-” She coughs before confirming what you already knew to be true, “S-Sweet Pea.”

“You can send him to the playground, direct him to the two’s.”

A moment later you see Sweet Pea’s tall figure making his way down the sidewalk towards your playground. He leans against the fence gate, looking across the sandbox at you with a giant smirk on his lips.

“This spot in my chest has been hurting for the past couple of weeks,” he speaks up, patting the patch of skin where his heart would be lying underneath. He swallows and you watch as his throat bobs, “I-I don’t know why, but I think it has something to do with my soulmate. I’m here to make sure that she’s okay.”

A few of the other teachers on the playground send you suggestive looks and one of the older ladies shoots you a wink. You stand to your feet, clipboard in hand, and walk over to the gate where Sweet Pea is fidgeting.

“I thought soulmates were irrelevant to you?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

He shrugs, his jacket shifting on his shoulders. “My parents were soulmates. They felt everything that the other felt, so when my mom starting to drink herself to death, my dad wasn’t far behind.”

“Sweets,” you reach up and push his hair out of his eyes, lingering on his jawline. You shake your head, “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.”

“How could you?” He retorts with a cynical laugh, “I didn’t tell you, and I didn’t plan on telling you. I couldn’t have expected you to understand where I was coming from. I was being a total ass.”

You raise a brow and gesture to the young children over your shoulder. He coughs and swallows, “Uh, a total butt. Better?”

“Very,” you nod in approval. You take another step closer to him, so close now that you can feel the heat radiating off of his body. “My parents were soulmates and they were the perfect pair, I always thought that having a soulmate was the best thing one could experience. I’m sorry it didn’t go the same for you.”

“It still can,” he offers, lifting a hand to your cheek. “Like I said – I liked you long before I knew that you were my soulmate.”

You automatically lean into his touch, finding yourself craving it as heat spreads throughout your whole body. You look up at him with a searching look in your eyes, “Pea, I don’t want you to feel obligated to me. If you don’t want-”

You’re stopped with a kiss on your lips. It is chaste, but it gets the point across.

“Why don’t we try our date again?” he asks with a wide smirk on his face. “I promise to be more open-minded if you promise to let me drive you everywhere on my bike.”

“Strange request,” you note with a raised brow.

It is his turn to have his cheeks turn pink, “I like you holding onto me. It’s nice.”

“Pick me up at seven,” you lean up to kiss his cheek. “And don’t be late.”

Sweet Pea dips down to kiss your lips one last time, “I won’t be, I promise.”

a/n: not my best work but i do like these tropes mashed together :) i hope you guys like it too!!

tags: @rivendell101 @southsidewrites@cactiem@reblogserpent@sweetsserpentine @all-of-the-imagines-for-eve@worriestothewind@serpentcentral@serpentnanarose@sweetpeasjelloshot@thesweetestsweetpea@sweetpea-cc@cherysbombshell@beginningstofandom@southsidemistress@starryeyedparker @miffy-melly @exquisitley-obsessed@sweetpeasbabydoll @kinkysweetpea@writing-in-riverdale

[iwannafuckyexiu]

A TEASE A DAY BRINGS YOU CLOSER TO DEATH 001

GOTH BOI AND ♪ WALKIN' ON SUNSHINE ♬ contrast man, contrast - from a cold and elegant god to a bright and radiant teenager.

It's a typical Saturday night and Y/N is out getting that cash at Rake, a shady underground bar popular for its big tiddy hostesses and youthful hosts. No, he's not a server there, only a bartender at where all the crowd is at which means shit gets busy as fuck. But Y/N doesn't mind, because who would if they could stare at pretty and refined boys all night plus some nice asses as a bonus.

"So how old are you?" Y/N brings up a question to the young man at the bar. He scans the shelf of glass bottles for the Vodka requested while also continuing, "You look bordering underage."

"I'm literally twenty this year!" babyface defends himself friskily, dust of pink painting over his cheeks, clearly the previous glass of alcohol is getting to his skin.

"Ahahah, well to me you definitely look like a snack to those older women or even men." Passing the glass of Vodka to the young man, Y/N moves closer to his ear and says, hot breath tickling against his skin, "You gotta be careful down here, don't take drinks from strangers and don't ever leave your glass unwatched."

The young man's smile clots for a second. "What about you then? You look about my age, just a little shorter," he changes the subject oddly.

Y/N goes along with it and answers, "Me? I'm seventeen, not legal but this place isn't too, so who really gives a fuck around here."

"Good point." The young man chuckles and inclines in agreement.

"Anyways, you lookin' for any f-"

"Ohohoh!" a raucous laugh cuts off Y/N. From the entrance of the underground bar, a guy in a black cloak smacks the back of the man that came with him, poking fun of him, "This place has some nice looking girls, maybe you wanna try getting yourself some pussy while you're at it here?"

Goth boy clinks his tongue, "Shut the fuck up, Twice. We're here to have a meeting, not fuck around." Head twisting in a stoic demeanour, he lours at his companion, turquoise pupils faint with venom slithering slyly at the edges.

The several guests at the bar hush down for a second, all getting the frigidity from goth boy's tone of voice but soon return to normal, only more wary of their surroundings. Everyone here is familiar with the underground rules - even if you hear something or see something, you don't; mind your own business, or you might end up found floating across a river one day, dead.

Y/N peers at goth boy there from the side of his eyes, pouring the Whisky into the glass for the guest in front of you. A cold beauty. Not mentioning those eyes, albeit his face is wreathed with purple patches, you can still tell that before those stitches adorned his face he was definitely hot as fuck (not saying that he isn't now). Picturing some R18 shit in his mind, Y/N wets his ashen lips with a suspicious shine in his eyes as he ogles at goth boy.

"Tsk tsk tsk, waste of some good looks," Y/N comments under his breath stifled, whilst he joggles the cocktail cups in his hand. He lets out a big sigh at the shame in the form of Facepalm-kun. If he got the chance to spend money on coming here, he'd definitely get like at least ten hosts and hostesses.

Goth boy looks over as soon as Y/N utters out his remark. The latter catches his gaze and gasps, then hastily pretends to not notice the eyes on him while he gives another customer their drink in cold sweat and a stiff smile.

"What's wrong?" seeing goth boy raise a brow at the direction of the bar, dark Kermit curiously questions him as he pokes his head out to see what exactly could make his partner interested except for vengeance.

And just as Y/N thought goth boy's going to maybe come over and beat him up, he only withdraws his gaze and carries on striding straight ahead with a poker face. "Nothing, let's go."

Let's just say that goth boy didn't go beat up Y/N mostly because he thought the bartender wasn't good enough for his fire and he wasn't very much bothered at the moment. Well, there goes one of the only exquisite charmers Y/N has seen in recent days.

Fast forward to after Y/N finishes his shift, around eleven at night, he changes out of his uniform and exits the bar by the back alley door. That night, he walks home with the face of goth boy just zooming through his mind.

、、、

Blotting up his hair with a white towel, Y/N saunters into the living room to find his sister calling him vigorously from the kitchen.

"ONII-CHAN ONII-CHAN!" S/N rushes over to him, footsteps echoing through the house like an elephant just passed by. "A-... a ... hah ..." she tries to speak but her lack of oxygen restricts her as her chest heaves up and down.

"Jesus Christ, calm down man," Y/N rubs her back fondly, "what is it S/N?"

After S/N catches her breath, she clasps onto Y/N by both his shoulders and literally wails in his face, "A letter came in from Yuuei!" She waves the letter in his face, so much that Y/N's vision gets rather muddled up from the action.

"WHAT THE FUCK REALLY?!"

"Who was the one to tell me to calm down?" S/N lifts a brow up, taunting him.

"Ahahahhahhahahah. ... let's just look at the results now," Y/N awkwardly laughs then changes the topic to distract S/N. He tears the envelope open and the figure of All Might appears as a hologram in a sudden which petrifies the two for a second.

"Young L/N, I am here to announce that you've been," drum roll, "accepted into Yuuei! Although stealing a kill from another student isn't a very hero thing to do, you still got the point for it! And also you did help catch a lot of falling students which avoided a great number of injuries for us to heal, so that's a bonus!"

"Congratulations, my child!"

"Holy shit you're in!" S/N yells before she begins bouncing up and down around the house like she's the one who got accepted into Yuuei. After a while, her stamina goes back to zero and she sits herself down on the couch, taking deep breaths. "Onii-chan?" she realises that Y/N hasn't spoken at all after watching hologram, he's just been sitting down in utter silence.

But when S/N sees his face, she lets out a giggle, "Are you crying?"

The male springs up as soon as he hears that, "N-No I'm not! It was just sand okay?" The glossy shine in his eyes makes S/N think otherwise.

"Mhm, sure. Now spill."

Exhaling deeply, Y/N's head droops and his eyelids curtain over any emotions divulging in his irises. He pauses for a while, then says in a low whisper, "I'm just ... happy that I got in despite having such a fucking useless quirk in combat."

"Awh, is this a heart to heart conversation?" S/N is a mood ruiner.

Now the feeling of standing at a railing of a bridge alone and drowning in melancholy is gone, replaced with only the purest urge to give his sister a big ass slap.

"No, now let's go eat and celebrate or something," Y/N responds with a flat tone, clearly just wants to get done and over with the shameful talk. He gets up from the couch and strolls over to the doorway, fishing the chain of keys that dangled on the edge of the shelf to the left of the door.

Chasing after him, S/N tugs on his shoulder, "Don't try to ignore the fact that you were crying and melting, I saw it with my own eyes!"

"What do you want to eat?" Y/N disregards the statement and continues to ask her, successfully taking her attention away from the embarrassing moment that just happened not up to five minutes ago.

"Let's go to McDonald's! It's like five minutes away and twenty-four hours open!" her eyes gleam like stars while she thinks about all the fries she's going to get.

"Okay, now put your shoes on you lazy ass, you're not going bare feet."

、、、

"Woah that's a lot onii-chan, are you sure we can finish this?" S/N's pupils dilate at the amount of shit on the tray that Y/N sets on the circular table.

"Of course, we have you don't we?" Y/N retorts with a mock, a cheeky grin rising on his features as his eyes curl into crescents.

"Onii-chan!" S/N pouts and glares at Y/N, which honestly give him the chills with those shoujo school girl vibes.

"Hey, I remember you!" a voice calls outs. The two siblings turn to find the source of the sound but they only see a blur of yellow dashing towards them, not minding the queer looks that the other customers are giving them.

When the blur of yellow stops in front of Y/N, he takes a while to flip through his gallery of bishounens until he finds one that matches this blur of yellow, "Oh, it's you!" Like his switch has been flicked, his expression alters to one in glee, eyes flaring up.

"Bro!" the boy immediately hooks his arm around Y/N's shoulder like they were on intimate terms and takes a seat with them, joining their table.

Y/N stiffens for a second before relaxing his muscles and gripping sunshine boy's waist back, "Bro!"

"Did you get accepted? The results are out now!" sunshine boy lets go of Y/N shoulder to take a handful of fries from the pile on the tray, taking no attention of S/N glare.

"Of course! Why else would I be here celebrating?" Y/N remarks in an: 'of course I'm here to celebrate and not to cry, what are you thinking man' tone, as his hand mischievously rubs against sunshine boy's waist. And sunshine boy thinks Y/N's hand is ticklish around his waist but he just assumes it is a natural thing to do between guys, so he doesn't mention it.

"Oh shit, I forgot! We don't know each other's name yet right?" Sunshine boy bends over the table and looks up at Y/N from a lower view, enlarged flaxen eyes literally disarming his heart. "I'm Kaminari Denki!" he beams, and Y/N can swear that Denki's background sunlight is so bright that he's actually going blind.

"I'm L/N Y/N, Den-ki~" Y/N trills with devilry, batting his eye at the already red Denki, "Remember that~" He narrows his eyes into a sly smile.

"L/N," Denki makes an effort to not get flaming at Y/N's words as he mutters. But the boy cocks a brow as if saying: 'shouldn't we be on first name basis already?', and don't ask me how but Denki just gets what Y/N's saying.

Sunshine boy tautens then utters with sedate, "Y ... Y/N?" A vivacious smile responds to him instead of any words, but it still makes his heart blossom with warmth. So he returns a sincere smile of his own back.

Absolute harmony is achieved at this moment.

But it just cracks the next second.

"I need sunglasses to block out this fucking treachery," commenting monotonously, S/N spins away from this public display of affection to avoid poisoning her eyes.

Y/N breaks the eye contact (heart connection) with Denki to look across to S/N, "Language, B."

"Hmph," S/N ends the conversation cold and elegantly, twisting her head away from the two gayass shitheads that say they're 'bros'.

Silence.

"So ..." Y/N starts, dragging out the end of the syllable.

"So ...?" Sunshine boy tips his head, repeating after the boy with a smile that kind of says: 'I am planning something bad'.

Y/N continues, "Can I get your number?" He props up his elbow on the table and lays his chin in his hand, from head to toe just screaming wicked charm (fuckboy).

"O-Oh, sure! I'll help you type it into your phone and you can type yours into mine." Denki fishes out his phone from who fucking knows where, keys in the passcode and slide it over the table to Y/N.

The latter does the same, but instead says, "1708, remember my passcode~" To which Denki just calmly replies to with a: 'of course~'. Sunshine boy's just used to it by now enough to stay thick-skinned it seems.

"That's a sexy home screen, the boobs are nice."

"Hahaha ... yeah ..." Denki laughs awkwardly and refuses to look at Y/N because he's sure that the asshole's probably got a shit-eating grin on his face.

After a session of both boys poking fun at each other with their contact names for people, they finally switch their phones back. And almost immediately they ask in unison.

"Pika pika?"

"Your future b-b-boyfriend?"

Y/N doesn't respond, he just nods as he props up his elbow, laying his chin in hand and smile at him with dote.

That continues for quite some time until Y/N's sister couldn't take it and breaks Y/N out of the gaze that is making Denki awkward, "Onii-chan stop staring at him, it's creepy." Denki, the subject of the gaze, just remains tranquil and zen - though the red tips of his ears sells him out.

"Cute."

Denki is screeching internally.

、、、

"Oh shit, I gotta go!" Denki yelps after he takes one look at the time on his phone, he briskly delves out a one thousand yen bill from his pocket and sets it on the table, "here's the money for the food I ate, I'll see you next time!"

"Well, I'll see you in April then," Y/N pauses then grins from ear to ear and continues in a lower voice, "Denki."

Doki.

Doki.

DOKI DOKI DOKI DOKI.

DOKIDOKIDOKIDOEJHFIuUEIofihesou.

Even after he leaves the place, his rapid heartbeat doesn't seem to slow down one bit. Every pound hits the g-spot of his heart, making him clutch chest as he suspires by the side of the road, the aftertaste just cuffing him out now.

"Okay, my heart totally didn't skip a beat because of a guy, nonononono," Denki attempts to convince himself, holding his head between his hands just mentally breaking down. "I am as straight as a pole."

"As straight as a pole!" He clenches a fist and lifts it up high in the sky.

But poles can bend too, his mind says.

Shit.

"I AM A TITANIUM POLE!"

.

TO NOTE

i feel accomplished as fUck man, i finished a chapter in a day aHAhaha.

NOT PROPERLY PROOFREAD AGAIN

[kaiser-king]

Hazbin Hotel fanfic chapter 1: the new arrival

First i would like to give a big thanks to @lolalovestruck for letting me use her character spades. Second this is juat a first chapter in what i hope to be an ongoing fic. I hope you all enjoy it, have fun reading.

I felt hot. Like I was slowly burning alive on a charcoal grill wrapped in tin foil. My chest was tight and my throat felt like it was blocked with stones until i awoke, gasping for breath and retching as i turned onto my side. Whatever i had eaten last night was slowly spreading itself out on the concrete underneath me mixed with spit and bile. My head was in the worst pain I had ever felt. Slicking back my hair, i found my hand had come away with blood. I didn't know what to be more afraid of, the blood, or the fact that my body had changed.

Underneath the blood were pink elongated fingers tipped with claws where the nails should have been. My vision hadn't changed but i could feel the difference in my face. An elongated muzzle and sharper teeth as well as thin but sensitive whiskers that would ever so slightly twitch with my face movements. My entire body was covered in greyish white fur, long and thick, more bristly then soft... it was almost like touching a toilet brush. My shoes were gone, ripped and tattered as large pink feet with long toes and multiple bumps covered the bottom of them. Each toe flexed individually as i tried to stand. The only thing that stayed the same were my clothes. A ratty denim vest covered in all kinds of patches, a tank top, and cargo pants. I kicked off my tattered boots and groaned as the pain in my head returned. My typically green mohawk slicked down with crimson made it hard to focus as i turned to see the large city i was now in. The scent of sulphur ever present as i emerged from the alley into the streets, and found the one thing that would ever scare me. "N-no... Am I in Hell?" I asked aloud as i glanced about to see many different people, or well, demons as would be a more apt term. A myriad of forms and shapes walking the streets. 'Typical' demon like figures as well as more exotic looking monsters or creatures all minding their own business. It appeared to be that there was no agonising eternal torment to be had.

As I was lost in thought i had barely registered that a tail of my own had been swaying until it slapped my own ankle. Long and hairless as i glances at it, a pleasent feeling as i held and ran it through my hands. With a gulp i reached up again to feel my ears, larger and a bit pointed, it had become clearer to me with each passing moment.

I died last night, and woke up in hell as my very own form of demon, a rat demon.

Nausea overflowed in me again, making me fall forward and retch my guts out on the cobblestone sidewalk, drawing disgusted looks from everyone around me as they went about their own business. Now with a fresh disgusting taste in my mouth, i wiped my face with my sleeve and stood up, i didn't know where to go. My entire world had been destroyed, my own religion was a lie, and the one i had abandoned had reclaimed me with flaming claws. Hell was my home now and seeing how peaceful it was, i didn't know what to think.

I made my way through the streets, probably drawing the wrong attention with my fish out of water look, add clenched fists and a rising anger to the mix, i was honestly looking for a fight. Funnily enough, it wasn't too hard as i turned a corner to see a skinny, almost nothing but bone, demon that looked like your normal imp holding what i could only assume was fried chicken.

At least, it smelled enough like it to cause my own stomach to growl. My nose twitched at the scent as i sunk down into a squatting almost pounce ready posture as a growl i never knew i was capable of escaped my throat. "Give me that chicken you little shit!" My voice caught the poor guy off guard, but he glared back at me with beady, defiant eyes. Without a word he leapt towards me, claws outstretched and aiming for my eyes. I jerked back as a reflex and fell on my back, giving the imp just enough of a chance to climb up and claw over my right eye. I couldn't see anything out of it as the blood welled up, vauding me to struggle a bit more than i should have with a ten pound sack of bones, but my desperation won out as i flipped us over and grabbed a busted beer bottle to brain him with.

With a dead imp at my feet and blood in my eyes, i took the chicken i was so willing to kill a man over and started eating. Warm, fresh, and crunchy, i was happy to have a full stomach and a moment to clear my head as i planned out my next move. It would have been a nice 12 minutes if not for the fact i ended up cornered without noticing.

A couple larger men, a minotaur and what could only be described as a troll stood over me as a the voice of a young woman caught my attention over the crunching of chicken. "My My, it seems little Pip ran into the wrong rodent. Did you kill him for that chicken sir?" The fur on my right eye was matted with blood, but my left could see a pretty woman with grey skin in a black knee length dress, a blue trench coat, and blue knee high heel boots made her way up to me. She had a spades on the shoulder of her coat as well as a tail with a spades shaped end. "Well?" She raised an eyebrow as a, hopefully, playful grin of sharp teeth parted her lips.

I took a nervous swallow as i finished the food in my mouth and layed down the tray. "Umm... my name is Viktor. Yeah... i killed him for the chicken." Even though my mind screamed at me for telling the truth i didn't think i could have anything worse than being in hell happen to me, so what could she do but break some bones or maim me?

Her grin receded as she offered a hand to stand me up, which i nervously took. "Well Viktor, my name is Spades. Seeing as I'm short a smuggler, would you be interested in a job?" I was surprised by the nonchalance of her demeanor. This was a woman who probably could kill me given half a chance.

So why did it excite me? A beautiful woman who knows what she wants and how to get it, a confidence that could beat out any politician, and a smile that just drew me in. I didn't know how to feel, but my racing heart made the decision for me. "Y-yeah. It's my first day here and all... it wouldn't hurt to have some friends."

This won a laugh from spades as she licked her finger and tried to straighten the fur from over my eye. "Friends indeed Viktor. This'll leave a nasty scar, we should get that looked at. Come with me and I'll make everything a bit easier for you. Work is a good way to ease yourself into a bew environment, though it seems you'll be right at home."

[wine-anon]

can you do spot x reader where the reader goes with jack to tell spot ab the strike, and spot and the reader flirt back and forth, and it ends with spot asking her out for a date?

a/n: I haven’t had a Spot request for a while, nor have I written or him in a while. Thanks for the request! Tbh when writing this, I looked up a picture of Tommy Bracco to get his eye colour and such correct, but got caught staring at his eyes because they’re overly beautiful, wtf? Also, see if you can pick up on my Easter egg to one of my other writings.

Warning: my sucky flirting skills, seriously they’re awful, don’t flirt with me ever.

“Alright, who’ll take Brooklyn?” Jack’s question made everyone look in any direction but him, “c’mon, Brooklyn? Spot Conlon’s turf. Finch, you telling me your scared of turf?”

“I ain’t scared of no turf,” the boy shot up to protest but slowly sat down again, “but that Spot Conlon gets me all jittery.”

“I’ll take Brooklyn,” the newsies heads all snapped to you, where you sat in the back corner of Jacobi’s.

“You’ll take Brooklyn?” Mike asked a concerned look on his face.

“I mean, how bad can this Spot guy be?” 

Protests rung out across the diner before a girl, you soon found out to be named Katherine, ran in and told you all that she could get you all into the paper. It was finally decided that Jack, Davey and yourself would go to Brooklyn to talk to Spot Conlon, obviously Les went with you because Davey was adamant to not have him leave his side.

After lunch the four of you made started your trek across the Brooklyn Bridge. The journey was arduous and only worsened once you got into Brooklyn territory, you were watched from every street corner and alley by Spot’s birds. The feeling of being watched was unsettling as you reached the front doors of the Brooklyn Lodging House. 

Once inside, the four of you were escorted to their common area. You were told to sit and wait on a busted up couch in the centre of the room.

“This is all quite dramatic, ain’t it?” you said once you were alone. Jack mumbled something about Spot always doing this whilst Davey and Les nodded in agreeance. 

You waited in bated silence for five minutes before the door opened again. You raised your eyebrow at the two boys that entered the room. They took point on either side of the armchair across from you and the others. From the doorway another boy entered, he was considerably shorter than the two other boys but he was stocky and well-built. His shirt had no sleeves leaving his branch-like biceps on display. Now that you noticed, none of them had sleeves which was strange.

The boy sat down in the armchair and the door behind him was shut behind him. Now that you could see his face clearly, you were stuck by just how gorgeous he was. His hair was tucked neatly under his cap, as most newsies did, including you. You took in his face, his deep brown eyes drew you in and caught your breath in your throat, thick eyelashes framing them beautifully. His jaw could cut glass and his cheekbones could cut you if you were to touch them. A small smirk presented itself on his pink lips and you found yourself licking your own as you both stared at each other.

Jack coughed loudly which broke you out of your trance, you blushed when Jack raised his eyebrow at you and shook his head with a smile. The boy, who you assumed was Spot Conlon, turned to Jack after throwing you a quick wink.

“Why ya’ here, Jack” he asked, his accent was thick and his voice deep, you almost melted on the spot.

“We’s organising a strike,” Jack spoke with an authority that you’d never heard before, “and we want to know if Brooklyn is in?”

“And what is you striking against?” Spot had an air of power and command around him that you’d be honest, was really enticing.

“We’re striking against the papes,” Davey chimed in, though not as confidently as Jack, “we want fairness. The papes price has risen and that’s not okay, we’re not going to be walked over by Pulitzer.”

“That’s great, kid,” Spot stared down Davey, like a lion would watch it’s prey. Waiting for a break of confidence. 

Nervously, Les gripped your hand from his seat next to you. You held his shaking hand tightly and comforted him as best as you could.

“So what do ya’ want from me?” Spot looked at your hand that was intertwined with Les’ instead of the other boys which made you slightly nervous.

“We want you to support us so that we can get backed by the other newsies around New York,” Jack said, pulling Spot’s attention back to him.

“How do I know that you won’t bounce at the first sign of trouble?” the question caught the two boys off-guard, so you decided to intervene.

“Because we’re fighting for a good cause, and we ain’t backing down,” Spot looked you in the face and smirked once again.

“Is that so,” he spoke with amusement and intrigue, “and what is your name, beautiful?”

“(y/n),” you decided to not waste any time, he was cute and flirting with you, so what could go wrong?

“Gorgeous name for a gorgeous person,” the grin on his face grew.

“Why thank you, handsome,” he seemed pleased with the name and so you knew you’d found your in, “did you lift something heavy before you walked in here? Your arms look so strong.”

“You think so?” you were surprised that your flirting was actually working, usually it was abysmal, at least that’s what Romeo and Race would always say.

“I’ll be honest, beautiful,” he continued, “when I first walked in here, I was pretty wary. But afta’ seeing your face, I thought I walked into a museum.”

“How’s that?” you were genuinely curious as to where this line was going.

“‘Cause you are a masterpiece to look at,” his words caught you off-guard and you blushed deep red.

“I could say the same about you,” that was all you could get out, he was intimidatingly handsome.

“Think I could take you out sometime?” another thing that shocked you. He wanted to take you out, on an actual date. Your heartbeat sped up and you smiled sweetly at him. 

Unbeknownst to you, Spot was nervous beyond belief. The King of Brooklyn rarely got nervous, but you were beautiful, radiant and down-right spectacular to look at. He didn’t want to mess this up, he genuinely wanted to get to know you. The way you talked made his heart race and when you smiled at him, he felt like he was going to faint.

“I’d love to,” your response shocked everyone in the room, the boys by your side looked at you with wide eyes, “maybe after you help us win this strike.”

“You drive a hard bargain, sugar,” Spot wanted to help you and come at your beckon-call but he knew he couldn’t logistically do that, “if you can show me that you won’t crumble at the sight of trouble, then and only then, will I support you. But I need to see that you mean it.”

Jack clenched his fist but agreed to the terms, whilst you and Les sat in silence.  Jack and Davey spoke in hushed tones to the side and Spot simply stared at you, without a care.

“Thank you or seeing us, Spot,” Jack said as he stood from the couch. Davey and Les following his lead in shaking Spot’s hand and heading to the door to be escorted back out to the street.

You sat still for a moment before getting to your feet and looking Spot in the eye. You had no clue what to say. You’d never felt this strongly about someone in a positive way before, you didn’t even know what to do. You nervously stuck your hand to shake his. He gripped your hand and shook it gently, you both stared into each other’s eyes before you coughed and pulled away awkwardly.

“Look, (y/n),” he spoke quietly and with far less confidence than before, “I wish I could help you guys, but you need to understand that it’s not what’s best for my newsies.”

“I know, Spot,” you reassured him with a small smile, “I get it, you gotta look out for these kids and I gotta look out for mine. You better be ready for that date though, because I promise you that we will win this.”

“I hold you to that, sugar,” he winked and you walked past him towards the door.

“See ya’ round, Spot,” with that you walked out of the room to find your friends. 

“See ya’, (y/n),” he spoke to thin air long after you were gone.

“What about Brooklyn?”

“I’d say they were definitely impressed,” Jack replied, “don’t you think Davey?”“Oh, definitely,” Davey spoke whilst both of them eyed you off to the side. You replied with a shrug.

“What can I say? Spot loved what we had to say,” you spoke with a smirk.

[philanddanxreader]

Not So Sober Secrets

Hello, Love Bugs!!

Phil X Reader

Warnings- drinking, smut.  I made this a smut because I make the rules.

Can you write about how like the reader got really wasted bc she decided to just have a little fun one night after studying hard for college and her friend calls d/p (whichever) and they pick her up (bc they're like best friends or something) and drive her home and she starts telling them about how she likes them but doesn't remember any of it in the morning, thanks ^^

“I’m not drunk! You’re the drunk one!” your friend was holding your hair back as you announced this from the bush you had been throwing up in only moments ago. Midterms are hard. No one would ever disagree with you on that. What some may disagree with you on was your method of celebrating. It was a Thursday night when you showed up at your friends with a few mismatched bottles of random liquor you had found around your dorm room. If you were being honest with yourself you knew you should probably wait one more day before getting shit faced. But in Uni there are no real rules as to when it is and isn't acceptable to drink.

When you first arrived you had to try really hard to convince your friend to have a few drinks with you. She has a midterm on Monday so you told her that is more than enough time to study and that she needed a well-deserved break from studying. After the first few drinks, your mind went to that fuzzy place where you feel all warm and giggly but not too drunk that you can walk straight or you are spilling your guts to anyone willing to listen. The plan was originally only to get to this point and stop after that. Get on a bus and go to sleep in your tiny little dorm bed. That was the intended plan. What actually happened was your best friends boyfriend coming home after a long evening at work to find the two of you giggling on the couch. This to him was the perfect excuse to have a mini party with the three of you in the tiny apartment and the night had taken off from there. It was all a blur of drinks and singing to weird 2000’s songs from a band that never lasted past their two hits. The clock had hit about three when you realized that not only do you have class tomorrow but also that you couldn't take a bus anywhere at this time of night.

That's when you got the idea for your friend to call Phil to come pick you up. He owed you a ride from the last time you saved him so it only seemed fair that he return the favour. In both your own and your friend's drunken state this was a perfect idea. Sooner than you even realized you were being drugged outside by your friend as she announced to Phil down the drive how happy she was that he came to get you because in her own words. “I'm getting laid tonight take this lovely bitch home.”

You gave your friend one more hug goodbye before you let Phil practically push you into the passenger seat of his roommate's car. Unfortunately, this wasn't the first time that both Phil and yourself had been in this car with one of you drunk. Last time, however, Phil was the drunk one getting into the passenger. He had gone out with a bunch of the boys to a strip club for one of the boys birthdays and ended up calling you from outside in the alley begging for you to go to his dorm and steal his roommate's keys to pick him up and take him home. When you arrived he was a lot more drunk then one would have expected. Phil was in all the sense of the term a hot mess. The first clue was when he tried to get in the wrong side of the car. Once you had him a bit more situated and buckled in Phil’s weird drunk demands started to roll in. He couldn't pick between McDonald's or making a frozen pizza back at his place. You had ended up staying the night on the couch in the common area instead of walking back to your own dorm.

Once back inside the car, Phil tried to lean over and buckle you in before you swatted his hand away. “I can do it myselfs” you announced as you kept searching for the seatbelt repeatedly. Phil stayed patient as he watched you struggle before you finally got yourself safely strapped in. Phil started to drive the little car down the street as you let the warm air wash over you from the open window. It had been rather quiet in the car with only the light music coming from the radio to kill the silence. Your eyes were already feeling heavy and the mixture of the breeze and the music put you to sleep nearly instantly. fifteen minutes you work to a voice that seemed almost far away but familiar.

“Y/N were almost back to the dorms. Where is your student ID so we can get in?” You pulled out your bag from near your feet and started to search for the bit of plastic that had your face on it. Once you found it you tossed it into the cup holder before resting back in the seat. Your mind started to wonder as the silence between the two of you felt almost defining. Well, at least it did to you in that moment so you decided to fill in the space.

“So Philly? Tell me what's your favourite colour?” Phil paused for a moment before responding.

“I think blue.” your filter had somehow seemed to disappear along with your sobriety.

“How do you think you know your favourite colour? Silly boy. Well, you’re not a boy. You, sir, are a man.” Did you even recognize what was coming out of your mouth? “Hmmm, you know Phil I like you. I always say that Phil is the type of guy I would have no problem calling daddy all night long.” That just actually happened. “It's not just your face either. You are so sweet and funny. Man, I would do you. And that’s not just the drunk girl in me talking.” Oh hell yes it is the drunk girl in your talking. SOber you would have duct tape over your mouth so quick people would think you were in a hostage situation. Phil didn't end up adding more to the conversation and let you fall asleep again as he rounded the corner towards the university dorms.

The sun streaming in through the curtains was possibly the most annoying thing you have ever witnessed in recent memory. Usually, the sun doesn't shine into your window in the morning so you figured you must have really slept in. Trying to stretch you quickly noticed a hand resting on your hip. You tried your hardest to think of what the hell happened last night. Sure things were blurry but you don't remember picking anyone up. You were at a friends. Where would you find someone from there? Rubbing your eyes you decided to try and access the situation that you have found yourself in. The room seemed oddly familiar but you couldn't quite remember why. Stupid hangover headaches. Trying to think a bit harder a terrible thought came to mind. What if you had fucked one of your roommates.Peeking under the covers you were happy to see you were fully clothed and the only thing that was missing were your socks. So that ruled out that you made yourself a complete fool last night so your only option was to turn over and see who it was that was keeping you warm.

You counted to three in your head before slowly flipping over to find a pleasant surprise. Phil’s cute sleepy little face was smushed close to yours to be sure that the two of you could share the only pillow that fit on the tiny bed. Flipping completely over you watched Phil slowly wake up with a little smile on his face. He gave a quick little yawn before looking at you with his soft sleepy eyes.

“How are you feeling? I’m honestly surprised you didn't get sick last night. You were a pretty hot mess. I tried to take you to your dorm but you insisted that you come to mine. Something about freezing to death in your room.” You couldn't help the pink tones that were creeping on your cheeks. Good God, what did you say or even do last night? You don't even remember how you got here.

“Did I walk here?” Phil gave a little giggle as he gave a little stretch in the air.

“Wow I knew you were drunk but I didn't think you would forget that I came to get you in my roommate's car.” You honestly tried but even after being told Phil came and got you from your friends you still couldn't remember a thing.

“I'm sorry I insisted on staying in your bed last night. Also, I'm sorry you had to come and get my really drunk ass home.Did I… Did I say anything too embarrassing.” Suddenly Phil became a lot more quiet than usual. “Oh God, what did I say? If I told you my credit card number please just try and forget it.” This made Phil crack a smile before putting his serious face on.

“It was probably just the liquor talking but you were pretty admitted last night that you have a crush on me. I tried to reason with you but you insisted and would only call me. Well. You said that I should change my name to daddy because that's all you would be calling me if we were a couple.” You didn't think your eyes could become bigger but boy were you wrong. Only three people knew that you have a crush on Phil and Phil was not meant to be one of those people.

“I'm so sorry I will just leave thank you for saving me. Please just forget anything happened, you are too sweet.” As you went to crawl out of the little bed Phil grabbed your wrist making you turn around in a bit of shock.

“Y/N. Please. I wanted to wait until this morning until you were sober to admit that I really like you as well. I won't be calling you daddy anytime soon but I really like you as well.” You couldn't tell if it was the mix of liquor still in your system or if it was because you had been dreaming about this moment forever but for once you didn't think with your head about what if’s and just went with what felt right in the moment and pressed a kiss to Phil’s surprised lips. Thankfully it took Phil only seconds to start kissing you back as he pulled you back into bed to have you sit on his lap. If this was a dream you never wanted it to stop.

The heavy makeout session quickly turned into a heavy petting session filled with desire and pent-up feelings that were begging to get out. The next few minutes were a blur of clothes being shed and moans being mixed with named filling the air of the little room. Soon enough you had found yourself laid on your back with Phil hovering over you as he kissed his way down your hips.

You couldn't help the shiver that ran through you as Phil's fingers traced there way over your thighs and down your legs. He was rested comfortably at the end of the bed looking down at you with a look that screamed I want to fuck you. Almost without realizing you were nodding at Phil almost pleading for him to touch you. Phil gave a quick smirk before pulling your knees apart to reveal your still clothed core. Phil's hands slipped into the waistband of your panties to remove them in one quick motion.

You didn't even try to hide your smile as you watched the article get tossed across the room to land God knows where. Phil’s breath was tickling your inner thigh as he slowly leaned into run kisses along your skin before he reached where you so desperately needed him to be. You had imagined this over million times but even your imagination couldn't compare even fifty percent to the real thing that's happening now. Phil looked up at you from your waist waiting patiently for you to give him permission to continue. Reaching down you ran a hand through his hair looking down at the beautiful boy you had been pinning over forever. Even if this was just a dream you wanted to have this sight burned into your memory for as long as possible.

Taking a deep breath you gave Phil one more smile as you nodded and let almost a whimper of a yes escape your lips. Phil gave a few more kisses to the sensitive skin on your legs before pressing one of his kisses on your clit. You didn't even notice Phil move your legs so they were spread more as he wrapped his arms around the back of your thighs to hold you still. Even though you were expecting it the sensation of Phil’s tongue running over your clit was enough of a shock to the system he had to tighten his grip so you wouldn't be able to squirm away from him. Phil repeated this making sure to only run his tongue over your clit once then wait a moment before doing it again. It was almost agony to have this repeated over and over again. You had to beg Phil to stop. Not because it didn't feel good. But because the teasing was going to make you implode. Phil gave a little giggle at this before he started to suck at the little bundle of nerves. Was this worse than the teasing? You honestly couldn't tell from the lack of any thought besides trying not to scream so loud that every single one of Phil’s roommates would be able to hear you screaming his name. Your one hand was between your teeth trying to muffle your sounds while the other was in Phil’s hair pushing and pulling at the sensations you were feeling. Your brain was buzzing from everything making the question Phil was asking to go in one ear and out the other.

“Y/N? Love. Come back to me for a moment.”  Phil’s voice brought you back to look down at him to only find him looking back at you.

“Sorry. Yes?” Phil smiled kissing your thigh with a little giggle.

“Do you mind if I finger you?” You actually let out a laugh before you realized he was being serious.

“Oh god, Phil you are adorable. You don't have to ask me every time you want to do something. I have and still do give my consent to you. If I wasn't comfortable with something I would let you know. Trust me. I’m beyond enjoying myself.” Phil shined a bright smile at you from where he was laying at the end of his bed. Leaning down you pulled Phil closer so you could give him a proper kiss. The mix of the taste of Phil and yourself on his lips was, in all honesty, a bit weird but you really didn't mind. Phil was the one to pull away first only to return his lips back to kissing other things.

His tongue slowly made its way down further to your entrance before you could feel him start to suck and lick making you feel like you were melting into the little bed. Phil’s mouth moved back to your clit making you release a sad little moan until one of his fingers slipped into you. That sad moan quickly turned into a happy one as Phil pushed his second finger into you. It wasn't very long that you were turning into an even bigger mess than before. Phil was quickly pushing you faster to the edge of orgasm then you thought was possible. Your hands moved away from Phil's hair and onto the sheets under you. It didn't take long before you could feel the complete build-up of your orgasm right before toppling over the edge. You meant to tell Phil or even say something but you didn't get much out past a few swears and the moans of Phil’s name mixed with sounds you didn't even know you made. Phil continued to suck and curl his fingers inside of you as your orgasm finally toppled over the edge letting the waves of actual bliss run through you from your toes up to your burning ears. Phil stayed in tune with your body as he continued to help your ride out your orgasm to get every second out of it.

Once the jolts stopped running through your body Phil crawled up beside you kissing your burning cheek before laying beside the best he could in the small single bed. Phil was reaching for the blankets to cover your naked body before you stopped him.

“Wait. What about you?” Phil gave you a small smile as he kissed your cheek again.

“I'm fine Love. Really. It was enough watching you. Besides I'm sure you are still exhausted from last night. I have a feeling we will be fooling around more times than this.” Cuddling into Phil’s chest you had finally felt safe and comfortable for the first time in a long time maybe you should confess your drunken love more often.

[possibilistfanfiction]

hey jude!!! just read ur last anon abt being nb and wondered if u could talk abt ur own gender experience?

well basically i didnt grow up in a very open household, like rly Zero discussion of gender, so i know i Experienced gender entirely but i played almost exclusively with the boys in my class until probably grade 6 or 7, & at puberty, even tho i was a better athlete than most boys in my class still, i started hanging out with girls more, at recess, etc. i was always into androgyny, even if i had no idea (& i didn’t) what that was—i liked some femme things, absolutely, but i wanted nothing to do w skirts or pretty shoes. i wanted to be in adidas running sneakers 24/7 if i could help it, & i wore a uniform to school w the option of a skirt/pants, & im p sure i always wore pants. at the time this, to me, seemed more functional, & it was, but it was also, as i can understand now, something that made me feel Less like a girl, although not at all like a boy.

when i was older, 12, 13, 14, my parents wanted me to dress nicer, & i was v much into like american eagle shit, although by mid hs i was into some vintage stuff. one rly big odd style influence for me was mia wasikowksa in this weird movie called restless bc it was this v soft femme androgyny & i think for me this kind of gender expression became very important to see & understand. it wasn’t that she didn’t look like a girl, or that she wasn’t a girl, but she also sometimes looked like a boy, or wore boys clothes, but she wasn’t butch. idk this movie sent me for a loop honestly lol. 

& obviously my understanding of gender expression didn’t correlate (& doesn’t correlate!) w so many gender identities, & “passing” is extremely harmful as a notion, etc. but when i was younger my understanding of gender & sexuality was very limited & began to expand when i saw very femme but still andro ppl, even tho i couldn’t articulate it at the time. 

when i was a teenager i knew i didnt want to rly have a single thing to do w any boy, which made me sure i was a lesbian bc thats the only narrative i’d rly known abt queerness, or queer women, or even queer ppl who presented as femme. there werent any out lesbians at my school (no fucking way), & the only out queer kid at all was a white gay guy a year older than me, who was popular in the way white gay boys can be popular in high school. but i read voraciously, was fascinated by the crossdressing in shakespeare (paris in the merchant of venice was a particular fixation of mine?) & anyway. i knew i was queer, i knew i liked girls, & i knew i was outrageously uncomfortable w my body, particularly my breasts. for a long time i thought this was because i was ashamed of my sexuality, when i came to sort of understand that, but ofc now i know abt dysmorphia & dysphoria, so yknow. knowledge.

when i went to college i came out big time, & it became very important to me to both be queer & look sort of queer but not queer enough to be Queer—i wanted ppl to be like ‘maybe into girls, but maybe straight.’ as im sure many of us know, this was a lot of internalized shame abt a lot of things, so that sucks. however, i cut my hair which was like the first comfortable thing i had done for my appearance in a v long time, & also smth which my parents hated & i did anyway. i wore a Lot of rly femme stuff bc they hated it tho? so this was all v confusing for me bc my parents are v homophobic, & here i was in college starting to read queer theory & gender theory & falling in love w like. the most beautiful, brilliant girl, & also spiraling into a mixed episode after i got diagnosed w bipolar I, which sort of put everything else on the backburner for a year. 

eventually tho i sorted that out (as much as u can sort smth like that out) & i started to rly pay attention to androgyny. i went to europe & i think theres a whole bunch of nuances to fashion that exist there that certainly arent here, & i spent a winter in warsaw so there were aspects to fashion & expression there that were entirely abt functionality, which i was v attracted to. in college, as well, & especially after college, gender became smth i was v much invested in bc i was (& absolutely am) a feminist, so my place in the canon & zeitgeist was one as a queer female writer. it was so so central to who i was, & what i was writing abt. every single thing i wrote in college was in some way a balm, some sort of piece abt myself, learning abt trauma & the body. sorting through a lot of hurt. i could write a theory piece abt elizabeth bishop & reading it back now i know it was also abt me, that kinda stuff.

when i went to toronto i rly rly started being invested in looking critically at gender & my experience of it bc being read as a woman was smth that was grating on me, even tho i had identified as woman for so long, & had no desire at all to transition. i know 100% i am not a trans man, so that was confusing for a long time because i sort of knew there was a space between but it was very hard to conceptualize. eventually i sort of came to understand gender is a color wheel where cis boys are blue & cis women are pink & then theres literally a ton of other colors out there, so yknow. lots of different experiences of gender. some days i feel much more strongly like i identify w women (in mostly political situations, it matters to me to be read as “female” sometimes bc rights for ppl w vaginas AND trans women are FUCKED UP in so many places). some days i hate the idea of identifying as a woman. i also never want to identify as a man. so when i was in toronto i rly started to know a LOT of queer ppl w so many different expressions of gender. & we were all young & lovely & open & fucked up & we would get fucked up but we would also go read together in the park & wander around alleys in the snow & like. there’s a Muchness to toronto that i experienced that helped me, personally, understand these intersections between my own sexuality & gender & expression as much more than just a gay woman who isn’t butch & isn’t femme. i was rly lucky to become part of a community that identified as Queer, & so i became v much understanding of these different aspects of my own identity that fell outside of binary—my sexuality, my gender. Queerness is a vital & profound thing to me & i was rly able (& so fortunate) to have a close friend group of mostly queer ppl & then a few of the actual literally most incredible allies i’ve ever known & will ever know. 

so then from there i just rly kinda thought abt things & like i got a binder & stuff in TO but rly started to evaluate my dysmorphia & dysphoria (i had struggled really badly w an eating disorder in/post college) & was able to sort out that so much of it had to do w feeling uncomfortable in the way my body was read in the world. & that will always happen bc i LOVE makeup & i have a “feminine” voice & sometimes i love skirts & i shave my legs bc i like how it feels sometimes & i dont ever want to go on T—none of these things make anyone ANY gender, but ofc theyre coded as “female.” but i’m learning to just yknow educate where i can & take a lot of solace in the community of ppl i have fostered who support & understand my Being. i’ve also allowed myself to be invested in aesthetics & fashion & how much a role that plays bc like. yah fuck Yah i look cool shit bc my friends love it & absolutely i wanna wear the same vans maia mitchell has & i want a melodrama hoodie & i LOVE local toronto designers & their angsty patches abt sad songs & whiskey but i love fashion born out of histories that is connected to smth i can understand, like queer punk movements, or smth my friends & i share, like blundstones (which are gender neutral, which is cool). i’m fascinated in how ppl express their Selves, & we are so unfortunately Finite in our bodies in the sense that that’s rly how the world, in our day to day interactions, processes who & what we are. so i invest in the care of mine by trying to listen to it, trying to make it comfortable—& clothing is a huge thing that can do that. also its fun so anyone who thinks loving (ethical, cool) fashion is vain can eat my ass

anyway lmao now i have a p decent sense, atm at least, of what makes my body its most comfortable (even if that is v far from Comfortable at times). i love my tattoos, & i basically never rly want long hair again i’m p sure, & i love makeup, & if i could wear vans or blundstones every day for the entirety of my life at this point that would be incredible. those are easy things, & i try to allow my body, in its cultural place, to have access to them as much as possible, which is so important to me in a sense of having access to a physical space that matches my mental space of gender identity. politically sometimes i feel v v much a “woman” in terms of my lived experience, & i allow that of myself as well. sometimes when i write it’s important to me that my poetry be read as a queer person but also someone who is culturally coded as a woman, bc those are still always central concerns of my work—the trauma, the power there. but day to day i’m mostly happy spending my time obsessing over other things, like what to call this new genre of music halsey & lorde are making, or why my dog stevie is a Fanatic when it comes to ice cubes. ive come to enough terms w my gender, & my sexuality—& the expression thereof—that unless someone is talking abt gender, or someone asks me a question, it’s not smth that is constantly on my mind, which is. Nice. its so nice lol. 

also i would like to point out that i know my experience being non binary is rly rly white & western in so many ways & i get that. my cultural experience of non binary gender is also v much this like. ive felt frustrated before but never in my life have i felt scared to be non-binary while i was like out & abt in the world, bc i still pass as a cis white woman literally everywhere all the time (which has its pros & cons but like, still, a lot of privilege). so i do try to keep all of that in mind as well when i try to center myself & all that jazz

& who tf knows where all of that will take me. i feel like, bc ive learned to listen to my body & my brain so much better than i did when i was younger—even when they might hate themselves—i am so much better at filling up a space in the world that occupies smth healthy. which is not smth i take lightly, & i’m also so open to changes, as long as they feel good & beneficial & true. which is sort of new for me. who knows man ur mid twenties are a wild ride 

[fernthefanciful]

Of Wolf and Man, part 1

The mage took off down the dark alley. Apparently the meaning of the term 'freeze' was lost to this guy. Then again, I guess that if you’re a homicidal maniac who killed four people with dark magic you’re not going to be intimidated by a puny human cop. That’s alright, he wouldn’t be the first Dark Sorcerer™ I’d put behind bars.   I gave chase, following his fluttering deep-purple robes through the meandrous alleyways. He veered off to the right and I followed, barely able to throw myself backwards when a nasty looking spell exploded into a shower of purple sparks on the wall opposite of me, right where I’d been a moment before. It sizzled and popped as a portion of the wall was eaten away. The guy didn't even look back, just kept running. Alright then. “This is Harper, I’ve got eyes on the suspect,” I spoke into my enchanted headset. “He's heading towards Greenstreet. Be careful, he's slinging spells.” “Understood,” Detective Grey’s gruff voice answered. “You be careful too, T.J.” My partner Violet warned. I grinned even though they couldn’t see it. “Aren’t I always?” The answering huff of laughter could have been from any of them, really. The mage made a hard right into a different alley and I pulled my gun as I picked up speed. “Last chance, Deoradhan,” I yelled as I caught sight of him again, long robes flapping dramatically. “Stop, or I’ll be forced to open fire.” Instead of stopping he flung another spell at me. It went wide and sent a dumpster flying. I aimed at a wall on his left and released a warning shot. Deoradhan ducked and flinched, but kept running. Fine, the hard way then. The next shot I aimed for his legs, hoping to take him down. The bullet ricocheted off of an invisible forcefield around the mage and embedded itself into the brick wall. Acid and apples, the bastard was shielding. I could keep firing, hoping to wear him out by forcing him to expend his magic, but who knew where the bullets would ricochet to. No, I’d have better luck tackling him to bring him down physically. Usually when mages shield for high-velocity projectiles they can’t withstand the slow-moving mass of a humanoid body barreling through. Besides, between the shield and the spells, he was losing energy already. He was slowing down. Holstering my gun, I sped up, making sure I was almost on him before I reached towards his collar. I’d hoped to drag him down, or at least introduce his face to a wall, but he ducked out of the way just before I could grab him. My hand tingled from where it had reached through his shields. We rounded another corner, the mage staggering as he took the corner too wide. I took a sprint and jumped the guy, working him towards the ground. We hit the floor with a thud, forcing the air out of his lungs. I sat up on his legs and grabbed his left wrist, reaching for my ‘cuffs with my right. “Myrrdin Deoradhan, you’re under arrest for the murders of Jane Porter, Sage Wintergreen, Drayce Andvari and Eirlys Deoradhan,” I clicked the first ‘cuff around his wrist, “you have the right –“ I didn’t get any further. He reached for something around his neck. I made a desperate grab for his arm but was too slow. A wall of force slammed into my chest and sent me flying through the dark alley. My breath was punched out of me and my head hit the ground. Hard. Everything went dark and blurry for a moment. When I snapped back to reality Deoradhan was standing over me, wand raised and aimed at my head. He looked intimidating against the dark sky, his robed form backlit by the streetlights. My heart skipped a beat as I realised that this was it, I wasn’t going to make it out of this one. He never said a word, just grinned like the psycho he was and channelled his magic through the wand, the tip glowing a sickish green hue. The wand was too close to my face, I couldn’t duck out of the way and I knew that as soon as I moved, he’d let the spell fly that would undoubtedly melt my face off. I refused to beg. In fact, I refused to speak at all. This was a maniac that murdered four people, one of them his own mother. He cocked his eyebrow at me, as if daring me to say anything. I glared up at him, pressing my lips into a thin line. Nothing I said or did was going to stop him. We stared at each other for a long moment. His grin widened and he shrugged with one shoulder as if to say that it didn’t matter to him if I talked or not. That killing me didn’t matter to him.   I got ready to move, whether to try and sweep his feet out from under him when he was distracted or whether to at least try and roll out of the way, I didn’t know. But I wouldn’t just lay down and die. He opened his mouth to start to spell and I started rising up to do something when a dark form jumped Deoradhan, dragging him away from me. There was a sickening crack of bone breaking followed by a cut off human scream, probably Deoradhan. I got to my feet, the world swaying underneath me for a moment, and looked over to see Deoradhan on his back on the ground, a huge grey wolf sitting on his chest, teeth at his throat. The mage was begging now, “No, no, no, please don’t let that thing bite me. I don’t wanna die!” He cut off with a choked sound, the wolf, well, werewolf really, putting a bit more pressure, but not biting down. I staggered over to the pair and dropped to my knees beside them. “Like I said,” I started, yanking off his amulets when the ‘wolf moved out of my way. He sat back on his haunches on the mage’s chest, his tail thumping twice. “Myrddin Deoradhan, you’re under arrest.” The rest of the arrest went smoothly. The ‘wolf moved out of the way and helped me roll Deoradhan over to his stomach. I cuffed him and took some time removing anything that looked remotely magical to me. I staggered over to the wall and sat back to wait until the other officers arrived. The ‘wolf climbed on the mage’s back again and sat back down, growling low in his throat every time he so much as twitched. “Hey,” I told the ‘wolf, otherwise known as Detective Wilder Grey, “thanks for the save.” He thumped his tail twice again, tongue lolling out of his mouth. It still looked weird, this huge, dangerous creature behaving like your average neighbourhood dog. Especially when they were just as intelligent in their wolf form as they were when human. Grey got up, still standing on our perp, and nosed the side of my head, whining softly. I ran my hand through my hair, wincing as I touched the spot where I hit it on the street. My fingers were covered in blood when I pulled them back. “I’m fine, don’t worry about it,” I lied, everything was still swaying and I wasn’t sure I could stand up again. The ‘wolf looked at me, unimpressed. “I’ll get it checked out,” I told him, knowing he could hear the ambulance sirens in the distance. Grey huffed out a breath as if to say ‘you’d better’, but sat back down. I rested my hand on his shoulder for a moment, fingers clenching in his fur. Together we turned our heads towards the sound heavy footfalls approaching. Back-up had arrived.

***

The deputy standing by the yellow tape looked a little green, which was never a good sign near a crime scene, especially since the deputyrword,efore lifting the yellow tape andrimescene. Ts they were when human. in question is a werewolf. I was already regretting getting up this morning. “Morning, Feldt,” I greeted him, showing him my badge. He looked it over for a moment before lifting the yellow tape and gesturing me through. “Morning, ma’am.” I ducked under it and walked onto the crime scene, stifling another yawn. The showdown with Deoradhan and the following medical attention meant I hadn’t gotten home until around four in the morning. After that, my brother had woken me every two hours, at the doctor’s request of course, to check for a concussion. My poor head wasn’t concussed, but it wasn’t happy either, a splitting headache sitting just behind my eyes. So yeah, this morning was already off to a great start even before I got the call that a mauled body had been found in the Bent neighbourhood. A man lay in the middle of the street in a large pool of blood, presumably his own. Dressed in slacks and a dress shirt that was once white, but was now soaked through with crimson. Spray tan and too much gold jewellery, I noted. Balding and what might have a been a bit of a pudge if his guts weren’t currently outside of his body. Most of his torso looked like it had been worked over with a meat grinder, which usually meant one thing: the killer was not human. “You look like crap, Harper,” Detective Ian Andrews greeted me from where he was standing a few feet from the victim. He sipped from a Styrofoam cup which smelled like delicious, heavenly coffee. Dammit, I should have stopped for coffee. “Not all of us can look like a spry 50 year old after chasing down a spree killer through dark alleys at three in the morning,” I told him, grinning. “The secret is yoga and caffeine. Lots and lots of caffeine.” He took another sip. “How are you holding up?” he asked, resting his hand on my arm for a moment. “I’m fine.” He raised an eyebrow. “A bit shaken up,” I admitted, “but I’ll be fine. Your partner got to me in time.” “It’s never easy looking down a barrel of a gun, or in this case, the tip of a wand. We’ve all been there. But you’re still here, that’s what’s important.” I clapped him on the shoulder. “So, what have we got?” He accepted my not-so-subtle change of subject and dug his notepad out of his pocket. “According to the ID and wallet our killer so helpfully left behind, victim’s name is Donald Koppenhaver, 52 years old. Kravitz is working on his background back at the precinct.” I nodded and walked closer to the body, being mindful of where I put my feet. “Do we know what did all this – ?” “Carnage?” My partner, Violet Bluebell, said from where she sat crouched next to the medical examiner. She was dressed in a dark pink suit today, the purple silk shirt the same colour as the tips of her short curls. Most human professionals wouldn’t be caught dead wearing an outfit like that, but somehow pixies always seem to pull it off flawlessly. Violet once told me the colours remind them of the flower-petal clothes pixies wears in their small form. The medical examiner was gently pushing the vic’s chin back, exposing the ragged bite marks to his throat. “We think werewolf,” Layla Strong said as she carefully pulled a pluck of grey, bloodied hair away from the neck wound and put it in an evidence bag. “Definitely werewolf.” Wilder Grey stated from right behind me. I jumped and glared at him, he gave me a shit eating grin in return. Freaking annoying stealthy werewolves. “I can smell it all over the alley. You alright?” he asked me. “Yeah, thanks. And, you know, thanks again for – saving my life.” He looked me over, concerned, and nodded. “The fur is werewolf,” Violet said, “but we also found a long, grey hair and wounds that are consistent with a knife.” She gestured towards the mess that used to be his stomach. “So either the werewolf shifted halfway through the attack, or we have two attackers,” I finished for her. “But why would he shift? If he already had a knife why not finish it this way? And if he could shift why not attack him as a wolf?” I turned to Detective Grey, “Would a werewolf and a human work together like this, normally?” He shook his head. “No. We get pretty territorial over our kills. Unless they were both ‘wolves, but then they’d both be in the same shape.” “Hmm. Anything stand out in particular?” I asked, “Any scent of shift-inhibitors or other drugs?” “Nothing I can sniff out. A lot of people passed through here, but I don’t get anything out of the ordinary.” “Alright.” I turned toward Violet where she was still crouched next to the ME. “What are we dealing with, emotionally?” I asked her. “Desperation,” the pixie, the empath and the werewolf answered simultaneously. Yeah, that wasn’t creepy at all.   “But there's also -” Violet paused for a moment, as if searching for the right word. “Aggression,” Layla chimed in. “Yeah,” Violet agreed, “like, the thrill of the hunt.” She made it sound like a question. “I don't know, something feels weird about this.” She pushed her aqua and purple curls out of her face with her wrist. “I think I have enough for a reconstruction, though.” She closed her eyes for a moment, holding her hands cupped towards each other. A tiny flicker of golden light appeared between her hands, blinking in and out of existence a few times before becoming a small ball of energy. The ball grew, the golden light reflecting warmly on her dark skin. She kept going, her face scrunched up in concentration, until it had about the size of a soccer ball. Then she threw her hands up, the energy flying into the air and bursting apart in a shower of golden dust. Beside me, Grey sneezed. Werewolves always reacted weirdly to magic, especially the pixie kind. The dust floated down, most of it disappearing before it could hit the ground. The rest seemed to cling to three invisible shapes, forming a wolf and two humanoid figures. The heavier-set man, meant to be Koppenhaver, started running, the wolf and the lithe form of the other human giving chase. Koppenhaver stopped and turned around, his hands help up in front of him. It looked like he was begging for his life. The smaller human jumped forward, grabbing him by the throat and slicing into his stomach. Koppenhaver fell to his knees, the wolf now going for his throat. The wolf rode him down to the floor, head thrashing as it tore off pieces of flesh. The lithe human stepped in again, slashing wildly into the prone form of Koppenhaver. It was brutal to watch, even acted out in sparkly glitter. Koppenhaver twitched one last time, then turned to dust once again, the other two shapes floating away on the wind. Violet let out a sigh and listed sideways, the ME just able to catch her before she hit the ground. “Violet!” I rushed over to her. She was still conscious, but she’d overtaxed herself. She’d had gotten just as much sleep as I had, but she’d been practising magic to boot. A glamour to calm Deoradhan down, a spell like this one to track my wild chase after him, anything to catch the guy. We were the same that way. I turned towards one of the deputies standing around. “We need something sweet, fast.” A moment later a bottle of honeyed elderflower lemonade was pressed into my hand. I helped Violet take a few sips and gave her a couple of moments to steady again. Sugar helped, but she would be tapped out for the rest of the day. “You alright?” I asked her when she could sit up on her own again. “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry about that.” She smiled and turned away, running her hand through her hair. I grimaced at the streak of red blood now running through the turquoise. “Sweetie, gloves.” She looked at her hand for a moment. “Ah toadstools, this is just not my day.” Slinging my arm around her shoulder I squeezed her for a moment. “Don’t worry, you did good. We now have a place to start.” Even though the reconstructions weren’t foolproof, magic couldn’t show exactly what had happened, but pixies could feel the emotions and the atmosphere of a place and cast an illusion of what most probably had happened. It wasn’t a smoking gun, but it was a start. “There is something still off, though. Something I’m missing.” Violet’s hand clenched in her lap in frustration. “We’ll figure it out. We’ll catch these guys.” And we’d better do it quick, I thought, because if these guys were as aggressive as Violet had shown, there would be more bodies before the week was out.

[anavoliselenu]

Creighton chapter 9

Fuck that. This woman owns me.

I grab my boxer briefs off the floor, using them to catch the mess as I force myself to slide my dick out of her. I could happily stay inside her forever. Get me a phone with a never-ending battery life and I could do my business right here, while I give her the business.

God, I’m a fucking pervert.

I lift Selena off the couch and into my arms. Her head lolls against my chest, and her arms hang limp.

“Baby, you okay?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Let’s get you in the bath and clean you up.”

“Mm-hmm.”

I chuckle at her languid response, and love that I’m the reason for it.

Settling her on the side of the tub, I flip on both faucets. Given that it’s the size of a small pool, it’ll take a while for it to fill. Without the insane water pressure I have, it would take an hour.

Crouching in front of her, I lift her chin and meet her still-dilated eyes. “You okay, babe? That was pretty intense.” She nods silently. “Give me the words.”

“I’m okay. I’m really, really . . . okay.”

I smile at her response and rest a hand on her thigh, not far from the pussy that has me by the balls.

“You want me to take the plug out?”

A pretty pink blush covers her face, and her gaze drops away from mine as she shakes her head.

“Is that a no?” Another silent nod. “Words, Selena.”

“No. I don’t want you to take it out yet,” she whispers to the floor.

My cock goes rock hard. Moments ago, I would have bet my jet that couldn’t happen this fast. I would have been wrong—and flying commercial.

“And why’s that?”

Her blush deepens when she replies, “Because I like it. And if I like that this much, I want to know what else I might . . . you know . . . like more. Which I’m assuming requires a little, um, prep? So yeah. That’s why.”

I feel her words in my dick and somewhere deep in my gut.

“Jesus Christ, Selena. You’re fucking amazing.”

I stand, scoop her back up, and settle us both in the partially filled tub. I keep her cradled in my arms, not wanting to let go of her yet. It’s like I’m worried that somehow she’ll slip away and I’ll lose her—and that’s not something I want to contemplate.

She leans her head against my chest, and I brush her hair away from her face so I can see her eyes. I don’t know what I’m hoping to see in them, but I know I need this connection as much as I think she does.

This is a novel feeling for me. Even with the few longer-term relationships I’ve had, I’ve never felt like this. I knew she was something special; I wouldn’t have done what I did and married her if I didn’t think so. But it was a crazy-ass stunt I cooked up on the spur of the moment, and I would have never guessed I’d start to feel like . . . this.

Whatever the hell this is.

I refuse to eat naked, and Justin’s narrowed gaze doesn’t change my mind.

And so instead, I’m wearing his T-shirt and sitting in the middle of his dining room table. It’s a very Sixteen Candles moment. I could swear I’m in the last scene, and I should be sitting on Jake Ryan’s table with Samantha’s birthday cake between us.

Except we don’t have a birthday cake between us—we have enough sushi for a party of five—and I’ve just lost another kind of virginity tonight, because I’ve never eaten raw fish before. I figured, what the hell, I’ve already done something way more off the wall, so why not? And I’m glad I did, because it was a-maz-ing.

I’m a total klutz with chopsticks, so I give up and pick up the piece of something Justin called a rainbow roll and dip it into soy sauce mixed with a small bump of wasabi. I hold my hand under it to catch the drips as I lift it to my mouth, already anticipating the symphony of flavors I’m about to unleash.

Justin’s smile is downright amused, but I don’t care. He might as well see how completely unsophisticated I still am in so many ways. At least he won’t expect to take me out to some fancy restaurant until I’ve had time to master chopsticks. It’s not like we used them to eat hot wings at the bowling alley.

I moan in delight as I savor the taste of the sushi I’ve just popped into my mouth. It’s so damn good, and I say so to Justin as soon as my mouth isn’t stuffed full.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”

“I can’t believe I never wanted to try it before. If I’d only known what I was missing . . .”

“I’m glad you’re open to trying new things, Selena.” His lips twitch into a less amused smile. “I can’t wait to see what we can conquer next.”

I lift my sweet tea, procured by Justin at my request, to take a sip. “It’ll have to wait until after the tour.” I note Justin’s frown and add, “You didn’t forget that, right?”

“No, but I forgot to tell the pilot.”

Oh, that’s not a good sign. “Maybe you should do that?”

He shoves a hand through his hair and slides off the table. I’m hoping he’s taking care of the situation, and in the meantime I watch the play of the muscles in his back, all the way down the waistband of his gym shorts, as he crosses the dining room and disappears into the kitchen. His voice carries, and I’m pleased to hear he’s making the call.

I pick up his half of the conversation.

“This is Karas. I’ll need the jet the day after tomorrow. Make sure it’s ready by four.”

“Good. Text me if anything comes up in preflight.”

“Thanks.”

I’m feeling the warm glow of contentment that he’s making sure I’m going to get back to Nashville early when he heads back into the dining room and climbs back onto the table. But not on his side. He settles himself behind me, lifting me so I sit on his lap.

“We’re going to teach you to eat with chopsticks.”

“This is going to get messier than it already is, then.”

“So be it.” He grabs the chopsticks with his left hand and places them in my right hand, positioning my fingers awkwardly around them. “Like this.”

He guides my chopstick-holding hand to the sushi and manipulates my fingers until we’ve picked up a piece and dipped it in soy sauce. Ever so carefully, we lift it toward my mouth. Which is right about when I realize what we’re doing is almost more intimate than when he bent me over the back of the couch.

My hand shakes, and the chopsticks lose their light grip right before it reaches my lips . . . and the cold rice and fish slips right down the neck of the T-shirt I’m wearing.

“Damn it,” I say. “I knew this was going to be a disaster.”

Sushi might be delicious, but it feels kinda gross now that the rice is stuck to my boobs and the fish is somewhere farther south, near my own tuna.

Justin chuckles before reaching his hand down the neck of the shirt and scooping up the remains. I twist and watch as he pops it into his mouth.

“Tastes even better.”

I slip my hand under the shirt and grab the errant piece of fish, holding it between a thumb and forefinger. He nips my fingers before snatching it up.

“How about we skip the chopsticks? I’m lucky if I can figure out which fork to use. Adding in completely new utensils isn’t really fair for this Kentucky girl.” I lean back against him, the novelty of this position not yet wearing off.

“Tell me about it.”

His question confuses me. “Tell you about what?”

“Being a Kentucky girl.”

I twist again to take in his expression. He looks genuinely curious, but that doesn’t really make me want to share. My upbringing was light years away from anything Justin can imagine.

“Nothing much to tell.”

“Now, that I don’t believe.”

I think about what I can tell him.

I was born in a tiny town with one red blinking light. I’m not even sure that qualifies as a one-stoplight town. I never knew my father, probably because my mama wasn’t so sure who he was either. My earliest memory was stuffing all my toys and clothes in a garbage bag and dragging it behind me as we moved from trailer to trailer through the park as she hooked up with loser after loser. Paper-thin walls didn’t muffle the sound of her “earning” our keep.

I took refuge in music—putting my headphones on and turning up the volume to drown it all out. One of the least loser-ish of the losers gave me a hand-me-down iPod loaded with tons of country music. Living in Kentucky, that’s about all I heard anyway, but he had the classics too. Loretta Lynn, old Reba, the Man in Black—I soaked up their words and eventually started writing my own.

When I was fourteen, my mama hooked up with a man who had enough money to buy her a Cadillac Eldorado, but didn’t want to have anything to do with a kid. She clutched the keys to her new Eldo in her hand as she told me to pack my bags, because I was moving in with my gran.

Doing what I’ve done so many times before, I loaded everything I owned into a garbage bag and stuffed it in the trunk of the Eldo. My one and only ride in that car was across the river, where she dropped me off like a litter of unwanted kittens. I suppose I should be lucky she didn’t stop at the bridge and attempt to drown me. Gran lived a half mile from the happening hot spot in town: Pints and Pins, affectionately known as Brews and Balls by the locals.

But I couldn’t tell him most any of that. I decide on the streamlined version.

“I’m from a one-stoplight town. My gran raised me after my mama decided to do some exploring. It was better that way, because Mama bounced us around a lot, depending on what guy she was . . . dating at the time. I worked at a bowling alley to help make extra money.”

My gran and Brews and Balls were both my salvation in different ways. Gran because she welcomed me with open arms and gave me the unconditional love and stability I lacked for the first fourteen years of my life. Birthday cakes, Christmas presents—those things became expected instead of the hit-or-miss mess they were with my mama.

When he doesn’t speak, I continue to fill the silence. “Gran lived on Social Security, so every extra dollar helped.”

To myself I add, Because my mama sure didn’t send any home. Nope, after she packed up her Eldo and hooked it to the back of the rich man’s motorhome and rode out of town, we didn’t hear from her for years.

Shaking off the bitterness, I kept going. “Brews and Balls was the first stage I ever stood on to sing in front of people. One karaoke night, the crowd wasn’t getting into it, so Benny, the owner, decided to take matters into his own hands. He’d heard me singing to myself in the kitchen while I was frying up onion rings and hot wings and chicken fingers, and decided that I’d do just fine. He pushed me out of the kitchen and into the bar, not even giving me time to drop my apron. The song was ‘Born to Fly’ by Sara Evans. When I finished, there was dead silence . . . and then the crowd went crazy.”

I close my eyes, the memory still vivid in my head. When I stepped off the stage, Benny had tears in his eyes. “You surely were born to fly, Selena.” He was the first and only man ever to believe in me.

And wouldn’t he just be proud of me now? Mostly naked with a butt plug up my ass, sitting on this man’s lap who I married after spending a single night with him.

I push the thought away. I’m going back to Tennessee in less than forty-eight hours. Back to normal. Which was a crazy thought all by itself—that my normal is life on a tour bus, heading out to sing in front of crowds of thousands in stadiums across the country. That’s what I need to focus on, not the man whose chest I’m pressed against and the awkward silence I’m just now realizing has overtaken the room.

“How’d you go from karaoke in a bar to touring?”

“Benny pushed me to try out for Country Dreams, and when I got past the initial audition, I decided I couldn’t go because Gran’s health was getting rocky. I couldn’t leave her, and we couldn’t afford in-home care. But somehow, through the grapevine, my mama heard about the show and that I was going to turn it down, and she showed up on Gran’s doorstep the day before I needed to report to Nashville for filming. She promised she’d take care of Gran if I’d only just take this shot.”

I swallow, the lump in my throat growing. The last part of this story is the hardest, and the reason for the guilt that tugs at my soul on a regular basis.

“When the finals came around and I made the cut, my mama decided Gran could take care of herself, so she left her. She just wanted to be on TV when they showed my family in the audience, and meet some famous people.” I pause, my heart clenching at the memory. “But Gran fell and hit her head, and never woke up again. She died before I could make it home to even sit by her bedside.”

“I’m so sorry,” he starts, but all the emotions and memories are bursting through my walls, and I can’t stop.

“You want to know what it’s like to wish I’d never taken a shot at my dream because my selfishness—and my idiot move to trust my mama—was responsible for the death of the only person who ever really cared about me?”

“Selena—”

“Or that I’ve been ignoring dozens of missed calls and messages that I know are from her because she’s probably seen the news, and the only reason she’d be calling is for money?”

His arms wrap around me and squeeze me tight. “Selena, slow down. Breathe.”

His words highlight the fact that I’m breathing so fast, I’m liable to hyperventilate. Justin rubs my back as I force myself to slow my breaths until my chest rises and falls in time with his.

Crap. I can’t believe I just spilled all of that. I’ve officially shattered any illusion that Justin might have had about my background.

I pull away from him and stumble off the table. My soul is shredded with the telling of it, and I’m too raw to face him and his questions any longer.

“I think I’ve had enough sushi tonight. I need a shower to clean up now too.”

I don’t look him in the eye, and I don’t wait for a response. I turn on my heel and head for the bathroom.

His ominous words follow me inside. “This conversation isn’t over.”

I’m naked in bed, waiting for Selena, when I hear her voice coming from the bathroom. She’s singing. Even though it’s muffled by the water, glass, and walls between us, I can tell it’s heartbroken and haunting. I didn’t plan on that kind of emotional baggage from someone so young, but it’s impossible to ignore. She’s not broken, but she thinks she is.

The sound of her voice has me on my feet and crossing the room to stand in the bathroom doorway.

Steam fills the shower enclosure, but I can see her clearly enough to watch her rinse the shampoo from her hair. As the suds slide down her body, her voice grows quiet before she stops. I wonder if she realizes that I’m watching, but instead she presses both hands to the tile shower wall and leans forward.

In that moment, I know the water is drowning her tears, and I feel an urge I’ve never felt directed toward someone who wasn’t family: the urge to comfort. I dried my little sister’s tears once upon a time, but I never expected that another woman’s would affect me so acutely.

I want to walk into the shower and pull her into my arms, but I have a gut feeling that she wouldn’t welcome the knowledge that I’m seeing her at her weakest. Selena may be submissive sexually, but her inner fire and spark is driven by pride that I realize mirrors my own. She’s young, but she’s lived a hard life already.

I have the inexplicable desire to make it easy for her. To wash away the guilt and hurt in a way the water never will. But I don’t know how to do that. It’s something even my money can’t buy. And the very fact that I wish I could scares the fucking hell out of me in the way I’ve never experienced.

What is she doing to me? I want to own her, keep her, ensure that she’s mine, but I didn’t expect to feel like . . . like this. The intensity of my need would scare the shit out of her too.

I turn away when she pushes off the wall and reaches for the shower control to turn the water off. By the time she leaves the bathroom, I’m back in bed with a myriad of possible things to say running through my mind.

But every single thought flies from my brain when she walks into the bedroom, wet and naked.

Fuck, but the woman’s body is downright sinful. Full tits, small waist, flared hips, toned legs. Even as all of the blood in my brain rushes directly to my cock, I have enough brain cells firing to appreciate that she’s more than a traffic-stopping body. She also has invisible scars and insecurities that I need a map to navigate without triggering. I’m starting to comprehend the enormity of what I’ve undertaken when I said, “I do.”

She stops, and her teeth dig into her lower lip.

I wait, curious to see what she’s going to say. With Selena, I never really know—and I’m finding I like that unknown.

“Can you . . . help me out?”

I almost say that I’ll help her with any fucking thing she wants, but I don’t. “With what?”

She bites her lower lip again and lets it slide between her teeth. “With, um, the plug?”

A small smile curves my lips. “You didn’t take it out in the shower?”

A short, jerky shake of her head is her only answer.

“And why’s that, Selena?”

Her gaze drops to the floor, which won’t do. Sliding back into the roles that we’ve carved out is easier for me than addressing the events of tonight, and maybe that’s exactly what it takes to bring back the Selena I’m already addicted to.

“Look at me when you answer me.”

A blush I’m becoming more and more familiar with stains her cheeks as she lifts her gaze to mine once more.

“I thought since . . . you know, you put it in, that you should be the one to, um, take it out.”

She’s perfect.

“Good girl. If you’d taken it out without my permission, I would’ve had to spank that pretty ass.”

I toss the covers aside, swing my legs over the edge of the bed, and stand. Her attention immediately falls to my dick. I don’t correct her, because I like her attention there. She’ll be paying it a whole hell of a lot more attention in a few minutes. But first . . .

“Turn around and bend over.”

Her blush turns from a luscious pink to a fiery red.

“Excuse me?”

“Do I need to repeat myself? Because if so, your ass is going to be as red as your cheeks, sweet girl.”

Her throat works as she swallows. I open my mouth to repeat my command, but she spins on her heel and bends over before I can get out the words.

My hand flexes with the need to smack that heart-shaped ass. I don’t want to confuse her, but I can’t resist. I pull back and deliver a stinging slap just under the curve of her right ass cheek. She inhales sharply and starts to rise, but my hand at the small of her back holds her in position.

“Don’t move.”

“But—but why?”

I crouch and trail my hand down the side of her body, stopping to cup her breast and roll her nipple between my thumb and forefinger.

“Because I can, Selena. Because your body belongs to me. And because you want it.”

A shiver races through her and her nipple stiffens further, confirming my words.

I release my hold on her nipple and drop my hand to the back of her calf. I rise slowly as I drag my palm up the back of her leg to her ass. I find the base of the plug with my thumb and press against it.

I’m rewarded with another harsh intake of breath.

“I’m taking it out, but a bigger one is going back in tomorrow. I don’t have a lot of patience, and I can’t wait much longer to fuck this gorgeous ass.” I pull the plug out by the base and fuck her with it a few times before withdrawing it completely.

I turn toward the bathroom, but pause to tell her, “Be on your knees when I come back out. I’m going to fuck your mouth before we go to bed.”

She shivers visibly. My dirty girl.

I take care of the plug in the bathroom and return to find her waiting on her knees . . . just missing the mark of obedient because her hand is between her legs, and her eyes are closed as she rides out an orgasm.

I watch—raptly—because Selena in the throes of climax is the hottest fucking sight on the goddamn planet. But my enjoyment in watching her doesn’t mean I won’t enjoy punishing her even more.

“Couldn’t wait for me, I see.”

Her eyes snap open, and if it’s possible, her cheeks turn even redder. “I . . . I needed—”

“You needed to wait and take what I give you. And since you’ve already gotten yourself off, I guess that means you don’t need me to eat that pretty pussy until you’re so drunk off the pleasure, you can’t move.”

Crestfallen. That’s the word that perfectly describes her expression.

“But—”

“Keep that mouth open, baby, because you’re about to take my cock down that gorgeous throat of yours.”

Her jaw drops, and I smile.

“Perfect.” I step toward her, cupping her chin and running a thumb along her lower lip. “Fucking perfect.”

My cock is straining up toward my navel, so I grip the base and bring it to her lips. Her tongue slips out and flicks the head.

“Grab my ass with both hands. I want you in position, and I don’t want you tempted to fuck yourself with your fingers.”

She complies, and I feed my cock into her mouth. She takes more than she did the last time, and I know this won’t last long. I bump the back of her throat, and she gags a little.

“Swallow me, baby. I want to feel your throat work me.”

Again, she complies, and I begin to thrust. In and out, reveling in the hot, wet heaven of her mouth. She takes me like a champ, her little moans sending out vibrations I can feel in my balls.

I have the primitive urge to mark her as mine. I feel my sac tighten, and I decide I’ll finish on her tits next time.

“Ready, baby?”

She nods, and her nails dig into the muscles of my ass. I fucking love it.

My orgasm shoots down from my spine, and she swallows every drop that I give her. She’s the perfect fucking woman. The perfect fucking wife.

I help her off her knees after I’m finished, and wipe the edges of her mouth with my thumb.

“You’re a fucking goddess, Selena.”

Her answering smile is shy as I back her toward the bed. When the back of her legs touch the mattress, she sits, and I drop to my knees.

“And it’s my turn to worship.”

And worship, I do. Until she’s come three times, and I can still feel the marks her nails left in my scalp as I settle into bed and wrap myself around her, tucking my once-again hard cock between her ass cheeks.

As I’m dozing off, one hand cupping a breast, I wonder if I’ll ever be sated with her.

Something about last night—the sushi, sitting on the table, telling Justin about my past and the intimacy we shared after—trips my brain into a whole new side of married life. I’m afraid to trust it, afraid to rely on it. Skepticism is one quality I’ve got in spades.

So when I open my eyes the next morning, expecting to see an empty space in the bed beside me and yet Justin is there, a tiny bit of that skepticism fades away. Maybe I am a little bit important to him. I thought for sure he’d be off running an empire right now, leaving me alone again at the earliest possible moment. His presence provides some hint of validation that I don’t want to admit needing.

As these thoughts roll through my brain, I realize it’s only the second time I’ve seen him asleep, the first being the early hours of Christmas morning. But that morning, I only chanced a glance at him before I hurriedly shoved all my stuff in my bag and tiptoed to the door. He was supposed to be nothing more than a way to forget that I’ll never share another Christmas Eve with Gran . . . and yet now he’s my husband.

Face relaxed in sleep, he looks younger than his thirty-three years. Without that blinding intensity and those piercing eyes focused on me, I’m able to study him at my leisure. Dynamic. Ruthless. Driven. Those are three words I’d use to describe him. Even in sleep, he’s probably dreaming about conquering something.

I know I should wonder about his motivations behind this whole marriage, but I find that I don’t care. Whatever it was that sent him on this wild hair, I should find it in me to be grateful. Otherwise, I’d be wearing another man’s ring and living an even bigger farce.

Glancing down at the ring on my finger, I realize that I like it there. Warmth creeps into my veins at the sense of belonging I feel.

Crap. I’m starting to get attached. Danger!

The terrifying realization is interrupted when Justin’s eyes flick open and his gaze lands on me.

“Are you watching me sleep?”

I decide to go with the truth. “Yes.”

His lips curve up, and I catch a flash of his white teeth. I think it’s a genuine smile, but they’re so rare for him, I have to actually think about it.

When he stretches his arms overhead and the sheet falls away, his washboard abs rippling, I forget about the smile completely. How can a man who sits at a desk all day look like that?

My mouth opens before I can engage my brain. “Do you leave your desk to climb buildings or something? Seriously, those aren’t desk-jockey abs.”

His smile shifts into the smirk I’ve become very familiar with as his gaze jumps to mine.

“You’re saying you actually like something about me?”

Justin’s eyebrow goes up, and I know he’s having fun with me, so I give it back to him.

“I’m saying I’d like those abs on any man, so I guess I’m lucky they’re yours.”

His eyes narrow at my words. “Any man?”

His tone is quiet and even more intimidating than normal. I have only that tone as the slightest warning before he rolls and reaches for me. My squeak of surprise fills the room as he draws me closer and pins me beneath him, one forearm on either side of my head.

“There are no other men when it comes to you, do you understand me, Selena? None. You belong to me.”

Whoa. Holy possessive alpha-male alert, Batman.

I push up on my elbows, bringing my lips within a breath of his. “As long as that means there aren’t any other women for you, then we have a deal.”

“You think you can bargain with me?” Every movement of his lips brushes them across mine.

“I’m sure going to try,” I reply, my daring knowing no limits this morning.

“Sassy girl. You know that just makes me want to teach you a lesson, right?” His tone is a low growl, and his lips continue to tease mine with the hint of a kiss.

Untangling one of my arms from beneath me, I reach up and bury my fingers in his dark hair. “Then what are you waiting for?”

His lips crash down against mine, and words cease to be necessary.

Justin leaves the penthouse to head to work around ten a.m., and when he promises that he’ll be back to get me by seven, I actually believe him. Maybe it’s the look in his eye when he left the bed that clearly said he didn’t want to leave me there alone. It’s like something finally clicked, and like a train, we’ve shifted onto a different track. One where maybe we can figure out how to coexist peacefully.

When I finally drag myself out of bed, I shower and breeze through my morning routine, dressing in some of the most casual of the new clothes in my closet. Glancing at the TV, I think about turning it on, but really don’t want to know if my marriage to this complicated man is still the top story.

Justin promised days ago that if I just trust him, he’ll take care of the press side of things, and I shouldn’t worry because it’s a pointless waste of energy. I decided he was right and just buried my head in the sand. If a billionaire can’t stop them from saying what they’re going to say, how can I? It’s wasted effort.