#art comin tomorrow people

[mememan93]

The two cakes art metaphor sucks because it sets the artist's expectations of the community too high and makes it hurt more when nobody reblogs their work in this essay i will-

[rosiestalez]

Do You Believe in Fate?

Remy LeBeau(Gambit) x M!reader

wc: 790

Summary: A young man takes a visit to an art exhibition not expecting to run into someone who he may never see again!

A/N: Hello, hello! i’m so sorry that this took so long, and i’m so sorry about how short it is. I am obsessed with the meet cute trope right now so that’s what you’re getting… i mean it (i’m sorry i’m being sarcastic)! I’m still trying to work on formatting and aesthetic of my page so thank you for your patience! Also, this is my last Gambit post until further notice! i’m still taking requests, but there’s already five and i want to work on our other faves!

Request by: @gambitsversion

Warnings: language, alcohol, meet cute!!

——————————————————————

Jazz music hummed, and the smell of Beignets, liquor, and smoke filled the air of New Orleans. Y/n makes his way into an art gallery nestled in between two historic buildings, the heat and humidity being left far behind. His eyes gazes upon the room, it’s small, but all the art was large and filled with personality he smiles looking at the beautiful art.

He begins to wander the exhibit taking in each art piece. His eyes lands on a large painting, it’s abstract. He looks at every purple, black, electric detail; he reads the pamphlet, but can’t seem to find the artist of this piece.

“It’s pretty, ain’t it?”, a voice speaks behind him.

Y/n turns his gaze from the painting meeting a pair of oddly black and red eyes. He’s smirking his back is up against the wall, nonchalant and confident. He’s brown leather coat draped over his broad shoulders, and his auburn hair put up, is slightly hued purple from the light in the room.

“I guess so”, he states curiously studying the man, “i’m not really into this.”

The man removed himself from the wall raising an eyebrow, “No? you don’t like it?”

He shrugs, “it feels a bit…chaotic, i don’t really get it.”

“Ah, i see”, he chuckles, “mon ami, sometimes chaos is the meaning”, he smiles.

“Yeah, i guess so”, he smiles back, “and do you happen to be the artist of this chaotic masterpiece?”, pointing his thumb behind him.

“Nah”, he shakes his head, “da name’s Remy, Remy LeBeau, but da people call me da Gambit”, he picks up a glass off a tray, “i like good art and liquor.”

He extends his hand to shake, “y/n”, he says; Remy shakes his hand with a firm grip. Remy smiles and my gosh it’s intoxicating, y/n can’t help, but blush.

“what brings ya over here?”, Remy asks taking a sip of his drink.

“I needed to get away.”

“Away from what?”

“y’know…life?”, he chuckles.

“Why NOLA then? You know it ain no escape”, Remy questions.

“It’s beautiful”, y/n smiles.

“Well, you’s a brave one for comin out here during hurricane season.”

Y/n’s heart flutters, his freckled cheeks growing warm as the conversation continues, “Are you from here?”

“Born and raised, cher”, he smiles.

“Well then I may need a tour guide tomorrow”, y/n bashfully smiles.

“Maybe cher, do ya believe in fate?”, Remy took a couple steps closer to Y/n. The world around him seems to slow down, his breath hitches at the realization of the lack of space.

He clears his throat, “never really thought of it”, his temperature rising, his heart is pounding, yet his thoughts are slow and steady.

“Damn, mon cher, i thought fate was the reason you were here in front of me right now”, he smirks. His eyes lingering on y/n’s face as if he was studying every feature, every freckle, and every imperfection. Y/n feels as though he could melt in Remy’s hands if he would allow it.

Y/n’a heart is racing, at the sudden flirtation from the stranger, “do you always flirt with strangers?”, he asks.

“only tha strangers I like”, he responds.

“Oh, I see”, y/n smirks, he was enamored by him. He was drawn to him, his aura, his eyes, everything, “for some reason, i feel as though you do this a lot, and they fall for it”, Remy just rolls his eyes and chuckles.

“Maybe so, but mon cher, right now it’s only you.”

Y/n is silent; he isn’t able to make sentences. It’s like Remy is hypnotizing him in this moment. He’s finally able to form some type of words Remy interrupts y/n’s thoughts.

“Ya know what, cher…give ol’ Remy a chance”, his voice is teasing, yet the tone is still serious, “then maybe you’ll understand where i’m coming from”, he smiles.

In a swift, smooth motion, Gambit slides the Ace of Hearts card into Y/N’s hand, his fingers brushing against Y/N’s skin for just a moment longer than necessary. Y/N looks down at the card, then back up at Gambit, who was already starting to walk away, casting a final, lingering glance over his shoulder.

“Think about it, cher,” Gambit calls reaching for the door. “Might just be the best gamble you ever take.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving Y/N standing in the gallery, heart racing and a smile tugging at his lips. He glances down at the Ace of Hearts in his hand, feeling the flutter of excitement that Gambit had left in his wake.

Maybe fate wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

[emma-m-black]

The Daughter - Chapter Four

Tim Gutterson x OC (FanFiction) - MATURE 18+

Tim Gutterson comes to the unconventional aid of one Elenora Crowder, ward of Art Mullen and daughter of Raylan Givens.

This will be a multi chapter story and will get spicy as it goes. This is a rough draft and only slightly edited for grammar and spelling. Just needed to finally get it out because Tim Gutterson is one of my favorite characters, and there is not nearly enough fanfic for him.

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three,

Chapter Four:

“You know you don’t have to come.” Said Elenora as she walked through the dark, along the concrete driveway next to Tim. The house in front of them was massive, white wooden siding and stone archways. It was in the nicer part of Lexington, the type of house that had more bathrooms than bedrooms. There were lamp posts near the entrance that lit the large white porch and entry way.

“And miss the chance to see what you’re like plastered? No way, Ma’am.” Tim replied with a laugh.

Elenora rolled her eyes as the two of them came to a stand at the doorway to the house. “I will not get plastered. Moving day is tomorrow, you know.” Reaching forward, Elenora pressed the doorbell and then casually smoothed out her simple knee length burgundy dress. It had no sleeved, but a high buttoned up collar. She had used a large and chunky brown leather belt with it, and her favorite cowboy boots. Tim had opted for a grey button down no tie, black jeans and his usual boots. The party was supposed to be dressy casual.

“Oh, I know. It was mighty nice of Art to volunteer us all. He even said the new guy is comin’ out to help. Still think you should have worn the hat. Who could have thought you could go from sexy school teacher to sexy cowgirl?”

“New guy?” Elenora began, as she ignored the rest of Tim’s comments. “You tellin’ me that you aren’t short man on the totem pole anymore?”

“Yeah, he starts the day after tomorrow, I guess. Said little else.”

The door to the house was flung open and arms enveloped Elenora. “NORA! YOU MADE IT!”

Stumbling back with the force, Elenora as well wrapped her arms around the girl, although it was more out of fear of falling than anything. She saw Tim’s arm shoot out in response and felt his light touch where his hand contacted the spot between her shoulder blades.

When the girl pulled away, she looked at Elenora and then at Tim. “Hey, I know you.”

“Tim, Mandy, Mandy, Tim.” Elenora introduced one to the other. “Mandy is the one that sent you that picture on my behalf, and Tim is the Deputy that arrested me.”

“Nora, didn’t know you had it in you.” Said Mandy, as she eyed Tim like he was a piece of meat. “Wait, I don’t know if I can let you in here...” Elenora and Tim had already discussed the fact that there would be underage drinking and, most likely, marijuana at the party.

Tim stuck a finger from each hand into a belt loop and cracked a smile. “I’m off the clock. Unless one of your guests decides to shoot someone, or has an outstanding warrant, you won’t have any problems with me.”

“Good, now come on, I wanna know all the details. Like if you guys hooked up before or after processing, cause this prude will never tell me anything about her sex life.” Mandy hooked her arm into Tim’s and directed him inside.

“Ma’am, I hate to disappoint but I’m not one to kiss and tell.”

Mandy craned her head back to Elenora, who was still standing at the doorway. “He called me Ma’am!” She then let out a giggle.

“Yeah, he likes to do that.” Smiled Elenora as she moved to follow Tim and Mandy.

When they entered, the party was already in full swing. There were people everywhere, mainly they were Education students, but there were many that Elenora did not recognize. There were even a few Professors and their spouses. Elenora and Tim were led into the kitchen where there were buckets filled with ice hosing bottles of beer and coolers. Elenora watched one person open a fridge, which looked to only contain more beer. There was mix and hard liquors on the counter, as well as red solo cups everywhere. She could hear people cheering somewhere else in the house. It was here that Mandy finally released Tim and told them to help themselves. Tim fished out a bottle of beer and held it out towards Elenora, who took it with a smile.

At some point in the night, Elenora was dragged away from Tim, although he had found someone that he knew, a man in the Lexington PD who had also served. He was married to one of the professors, so Elenora did not feel too bad leaving him behind while she did some shots.

“We’re done bitches!” One girl screamed, and the ring of girls, including Elenora, tossed back a shot of whiskey. Elenora slammed her glass down with a smile and looked at her friends, who were all as equally happy and drunk.

“That hot piece of man can’t take his eyes off of you, Nora.”

“He called me Ma’am when they came in. It was the cutest thing.” Mandy said with a hand to her heart.

Elenora looked over her shoulder to see Tim in the next room. He was leaning against a doorframe, taking a swig of his beer while the surrounding group conversed. His eyes, though, were hard set on her. It was a look that made her knees weak and her skin go warm. Elenora loved the way he looked at her. “He is a pretty great catch, isn’t he?”

With a confidence that could only be fueled by the copious amounts of alcohol she had drank, she smirked at Tim. Elenora eyed him and tried to convey every emotion she was feeling and Tim responded with a raised brow. “Someone hold my dress.” Turning and heading out to the deck that was off the kitchen, Elenora waited as her friends gathered around her before looking at the man holding the spout for the beer keg. “You ready?” She asked. He nodded with a smile and presented the keg to her.

“All yours, little lady. You ready?” With a nod, Elenora threw her hands on the handles and pushed off with her legs. Swinging herself over, she felt someone grab her legs to stabilize her, and she felt her dress fall in the wrong direction, before hastily being grabbed and brought back to cover her modesty. The man holding the spout held it to Elenora’s lips and opened it, and she began to drink. Her heartbeat pounded in her head as the seconds went by, and she was sure she could hear people were cheering her on, although it was hard to make out what they were saying.

When she couldn’t go any longer, she let her legs fall back down and the spout pulled away. Once she was upright, she brought the back of her hand to her lips and wiped away the beer that had dribbled on her. Then she turned around. The crowd of people cheered her on, probably more so because she did not immediately hurl like many before her. Elenora’s eyes though searched the crowd until she found Tim.

He was standing there, one arm folded over the other across his chest. There was a smile on his lips and his eyes narrowed as she stood in place, just watching him. She felt someone slap a hand on her shoulder in congratulations and one of her male classmates come up, hugged her, and lifted her into the air before spinning her around. When her feet were back on the ground, her eyes found Tim’s once again and he was looking at her now like she had something on her face.

Elenora looked at him quizzically, but her question was interrupted by Mandy bringing her yet another shot of whiskey. “So, does he have a brother? Please say he has a brother?”

“I’m not sure. We have avoided the topic of family pretty heavily.” Elenora downed the shot and watched as Tim approached the two of them.

“Well, if he does, I call dibs.”

“If he does what?” Asked Tim with a sly smile as he came to stand next to Elenora. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him.

“Oh, I was just wondering if there was a way to get me one of you.” Mandy said with a smile.

“Sorry to disappoint Ma’am, but there’s only one of me, and I’m kind of stuck on this one here.” Said Tim, before twisting his head to place a kiss on Elenora’s hair.

“Just make sure I get an invitation to the wedding.” Said Mandy before she turned and walked away.

Leaning his head down to Elenora’s ear, she could smell the beer on his breath. “Wanna get out of here?”

“I’d be good with that.” Elenora replied.

“Good, because I already called us a taxi.”

With a nod, Elenora and Tim walked through the house and out the front door to stand on the porch while they waited for the Taxi. Elenora watched as Tim fidgeted with the bottom of his shirt as he stared off out into the yard. “What you thinkin’ about there, solider?” Asked Elenora as she leaned herself against one of the porch beams, and folded her arms across her chest.

“Honestly? Just waitin’ for the ball to drop.” He stopped fidgeting then and took the few steps to stand in front of Elenora. Reaching out, Tim put his hands to her hips and pulled himself as close as he could. He tipped down his head to put his forehead against hers and brought his nose to touch her own. “You’re too good. Too perfect, and those things in my life don’t tend to stay that way. Keep expecting to see your arrest warrant come across my desk, or for you to tell me that while this was fun but your boyfriend is coming home tomorrow.”

“Ouch, hate to be one of your Ex’s.” Elenora put her hands to Tim’s forearms and smiled. “But Tim, neither of those things are gonna happen. What’s got you thinkin’ like this?”

“There’s something about you that makes me feel like I’ve known you my whole life and you got me thinkin’ in all sorts of ways I’ve never thought before.”

“Oh, and what would those be, Marshal?”

“Girl’s gotta’ have some secrets.”

“Okay, you can keep your secrets, but only if you take me to the range. I haven’t gotten my carry and conceal, and my daddy keeps buggin’ me. Threaten to come out here, and I’d really rather that not happen, as I like you with no bullet holes.”

“Is this the alcohol talking, or are you just tryin’ to get me hard? Talkin’ bout going to the shooting range. It’s like you’re made from my dreams.” Tim’s lips crashed against her own, his tongue swiping across her lips, in a request to deepen the kiss, and Elenora complied. Opening her mouth, she allowed Tim entry and soon her tongue was against his own and Elenora found her knees going weak, just as Tim finally pulled away. “Wait, do you even know how to fire a gun?” He pulled back slightly and stared down at her with a questioning gaze.

“You really think my Deputy Marshal of a father wouldn’t teach me how to shoot?”

Tim’s hands tightened on Elenora’s hips. “Hey, just wondering what I have to work with here.”

Elenora opened her mouth to respond, but a loud succession of car honks interrupted her. Both of them turned to see a taxi had pulled up along the driveway. “Come on, our carriage awaits.” Tim pulled away from Elenora but reached out to take her hand in his, and he walked away. When she did not move, though, the resistance made him stop and look back at her.

“I don’t need to worry bout you gettin’ scared and runnin’ do I?”

“We’re good Nell. I’ll let you know, though, if my feet start getting an itch.” Tim said with a smile.

“Good, cause I’m an excellent runner, and you, Tim Gutterson, are worth runnin’ for.”

“You know you’ve never told me your last name?”

“I’m not wearing my runnin’ shoes for that answer. So try to keep an even pace for me, okay?” Tim nodded his head in response and just stared at her with a smile. “It’s Crowder.” Elenora broke her eyes away from Tim as she felt his hand drop from her own and she looked down at the ground.

It was a split second later when she saw Tim’s feet in front of her and felt a finger curl around her chin, pulling up and forcing her to look at him. “Well, there’s a name that keeps coming across my desk, but you’re gonna have to do better than being a Crowder to scare me away.”

Chapter Five

[paleparearchive]

The Secret to Popularity Is... Rock!?

Delacroix's Valentine 3★ 1/2 ( 1 - 2 )

Location: museum hallway (morning) ; museum entrance (morning) ; reception (morning) | Characters: Delacroix, Raffaello, Jan, Hubert, Mucha, Aoi/MC

Aoi: Good job on the production, Delacroix-kun! You made the client very happy.

Delacroix: No wonder. It's a work of art that I put my soul into. The guy who commissioned it knew rock too, so I didn't get bored.

Aoi: Come to think of it, when you handed it over, you were both talking passionately about rock.

(They eventually exchanged firm handshakes, so I guess they must have been very much on the same page.)

You've got the whole day off tomorrow, so get some rest.

Delacroix: No, I'll help ya with the museum. Ya said we got more customers after the Valentine's Day live painting, right?

Aoi: Uh? But…

Delacroix: We're shorthanded anyway, right? The other guys seem to be on a schedule, too. Hell, you're even busier than usual, right? It's times like this when ya can count on me.

Aoi: Hm… Thank you. I guess I'll ask for it then.

Delacroix: Yeah, leave it to me.

Aoi: (Delacroix-kun tends to get passionate when it comes to rock… This is how he looks after people.)

???: RAFFAELLO-SAMAAAA!~

Delacroix: Huh? What's with those voices? Are they comin' from over there…?

—

Raffaello: Welcome. You girls… You have never been to the museum before, have you?

Raffaello's fan 2: Right! We all came to see your paintings, Raffaello-san!

Raffaello: I appreciate that. Since I have some time today, I can give you a tour.

Raffaello's fan 3: Kyaaaa!~ I can't believe Raffaello-sama is giving us a tour…!

Delacroix: … What, the heck?

Aoi: Since he has been the leader in the live painting, Raffaello-san's fan base has grown even more. Fans often visit the museum, too. However, it just seems to be a bit of a challenge with even more people calling out to him on the street…

Delacroix: Amazing…

Well, Raffaello's always been popular, no wonder he's got a growin' fanbase.

Aoi: Huh, didn't you know? The number of fans of everyone who was at the Valentine's Day live painting has increased.

Delacroix: Huh, for real!?

Aoi: You didn't realize it because you had a commission, Delacroix-kun. The truth is–

Mucha's fan 1: KYAAAA!!~ Mucha-saaan!~ Good morning!

Mucha: Good morning. Fufu, you are a very energetic group of customers. However, this is a museum. Once you are inside, please be quiet.

Mucha's fan 2: Alright, got it!

Jan's fan: Jan-kun, you're sooo cute!~ Look at meee!~

Jan: Coooming~♪ Did you call me, ladies? Do you wanna play together?

Hubert: No, Jan. We were supposed to work together today, remember? If you finish today's work properly, I'll play with you.

Jan: Hooraaay!~ I'm gonna play with Bert-niii!~

Aoi: (As expected from Hubert-kun, he was quick to intervene! As usual, his guard against Jan-kun is still up.)

Delacroix: You were serious 'bout the growing number of fans.

…

—

Delacroix: The flyer was... Here. Aight, that's it.

Still, there's a lotta customers today. At this rate, I wonder if the additional flyers're gonna run out soon. I'll see how it goes a lil' more, and then I'll add some more…

Delacroix's fan 1: E-Excuse me, are you Delacroix-kun?

Delacroix: Huh? Yeah, but…

Delacroix's fan 2: Kyaaa, so cooool!!~

Delacroix: …! The hell, you…

[qyllenhaal]

God’s Face in the Fire || Part 2

Dark!Lee Bodecker x Dark!Reader

Summary: A wife who would do anything to give her husband the world, even if it means getting herself involved with his trouble.

Word Count: 10.3k

Chapter warnings: dark themes!!! contains mentions of murder, non-graphic death scenes, smut (loss of virginity in a flashback scene), manipulation, brief mention of sexual assaults, misogyny, uncomfortable situations. Please heed the warnings!!! 18+ only

A/N: It's been forever since I posted. The last two weeks have left me discombobulated that it was hard to find time to sit down to write and edit this, but I'm glad I got to it! The next part is going to be the last part but I have plans to do one-shots for this universe. I'm going to be posting a Senator!Chris fic tomorrow so stay tuned for that.

Enjoy!

"You remember when I took you out for milkshakes and you spilled yours all over me? You were wearing that exact same color," Lee said pointing at the dress she was pressing.

"All those years ago, and you still remember that?" Y/n wanted to drown in this tender moment she's having with her husband. Hearing him laugh, his stomach shifting, and his eyes wrinkling.

"How could I? Watching you get all flustered and cute really got me goin’. It's when I knew I was gonna marry ya."

The days have been incredibly warm and beautiful since Y/n had done what she did. It was cruel irony that she was enjoying another day while someone’s body was rotting. The softer moments of life were few and far between these days, but right now she’s offered her a wonderful distraction.

She had taken on more tasks than usual to distract herself from the intrusive thoughts she had. She even accepted a last minute invite to help put on an event at the local rental hall with some of the other mothers in town. It gave her an excuse to look nice and show herself off to anyone who had some doubts about Lee. Things were looking good for him, but there was always something to do to further rehabilitate his image. She always looked her best as the sheriff's wife. Keeping up the appearances exhausted her since they have become more frequent for her. However if she wanted the people to fawn over her lovely family, she had to show up. An arts and crafts event for the kids is also a good chance to get their daughter out of the house.

Teenage Y/n did not see herself becoming a housewife so young. It was unsavory to think about being a homemaker for one of the boys’ at school. She surmised that she would’ve stuck by her original plan if she had not been so lonely. All of Y/n's friends left within a year of graduating high school. She didn't have that many friends to begin with, but she thought that at least one would always be there for her. Rose went to college, and Barbara found a man to marry and moved to upstate New York. Only one stayed for some time, Judith, but she eventually left after having a shotgun wedding. It was selfish of her to think that someone would stay just because she got rejected from the only college she had applied to. Other people had lives and Y/n was just not at the center of them.

The absence of her friends made her pregnancy more lonely. Her baby shower consisted of her family, Lee’s sister, and his co-workers and their wives. None of the women seemed to be fond of Y/n. It always plagued her mind to know if they thought she was too young and stupid or if it was just something else

She found solace in some of the other mother's in town. When she began showing up around to volunteer at bake sales and food drives she expected them to look at her face and then down at her belly and reject her. She is younger than them and feared they'd find her naïve. She had kept to herself for so long that she thought they'd write her off as the sheriff's meek wife.

Y/n didn't get a chance to mingle with anyone prior to her marriage and Lee made it harder by insisting in little ways that she stay in the house. No one was at fault that Lee wanted to keep her to himself. It was possible he did it out of insecurity, but Y/n now speculates that it was because he didn’t want to hear or even see what he may have been doing.

One of the ladies who Y/n only knew by her dark hair and distinct, pointy nose joked that Lee had, "finally let Rapunzel out of the castle." When the other mothers joined into laughter, she felt small. It was only a harmless joke that was steeped in the truth. It took her persistence to no longer wanting to feel alone while being pregnant to get the women to warm up to her, and the did.

"I remember spilling the milkshake, but I was too embarrassed to remember anything else about that night," she admitted.

Lee remembers that night very well. He wishes that she didn't end the night so quickly because she ruined a pair of trousers that could easily be replaced. He had only bought them to impress her, but it didn't take much to get her to swoon over him. No other man was giving her the time of day.

"We should go out to that diner Friday night. Now that we have someone to watch the little one, we don't have to stop by your parents to drop her off anymore. I can just scoop you up and we can have a night together," Lee pressed himself into Y/n's backside. She giggled when his hands lightly danced against her ticklish sides.

Lee had also been aware of the slim moments of intimacy with his wife. He was serious about this race but he truly underestimated how much time and effort he'd have to put into this. But people really did love the old mayor. The only slight Lee had against him was his old age and how some believed that if he kept going then he might run into some health problems. The rumors about him becoming more and more forgetful were minute compared to the dark gossip swirling about Lee though. Some of the people in town would probably vote for a paper bag before Lee.

His biggest fear is that he loses the election and drives his wife away. He could lose the race, but if his wife somehow slipped away, taking their baby with her, he’d drink himself into a stupor. Lee tried his very best to hide his insecurities from her. When he worried, she worried too and it made it much harder for him to plan his way out of whatever hole he is in when he has a hysterical wife to deal with. That's why he'd rather not tell her anything.

Lee also wasn't the young man in his prime anymore, he believed that his good looks were fading, and he has gained a considerable amount of weight. The fear of Y/n just up and leaving him for someone younger than him and riding off to the city always plagued him. The birth of their daughter should've assuaged him, but his self-doubt always lingered like a cloud that made him stick to his vices.

"I've really missed ya honey...missed this body of yours."

Y/n flinched when his hands ran down the front of her body, over her stomach and then circling up back to her breast. Her body has changed considerably since giving birth and the hormonal imbalance left her feeling tired, sad, and alone. Her mother told her that all she had to do was look at her child and she'd feel better, but every time she looked at her little girl all she did was worry. Was she a good mom? Why was her daughter crying so much without much working? Was Lee staying at work for long hours to avoid the crying and her? Did he still find her attractive?

They’re both too busy thinking Lee's mayoral bid to realize they felt the exact same way as each other. If there was any other time that proved they were an extension of each other, it was now, but they were too blind to see it.

"Lee y-you're going to be late for work," her voice was weakened by his lips now nipping at her neck.

"Don't give a damn," he whispered against her skin, inhaling her familiar scent, "just wanna feel my wife."

Today, Y/n felt herself slipping back into her normal self and normal life. She melted into Lee, hoping that maybe they could have a moment to themselves, but they were interrupted by the phone ringing downstairs. Every early morning and late night phone call had her on edge. They never seemed to be about anything important but it hasn't failed yet to make her stomach churn.

Lee groaned and pulled away from her. She watched him disappear to go answer the phone.

It has been nearly two days and the only thing on her mind is what happened after she left that brothel. The anxiety made her feel sick. Hours later after it happened, around 2 a.m., she woke up and darted to the toilet. Lee kept asking her if she was pregnant as he held her hair back while her face was in the toilet. She dismissed his claims, knowing full and well that she was just sickened by her actions.

Lee had not mentioned a death or anything related to that brothel, so had he even been found? Was his death even reported? The girls who worked for him were probably too worried about their own arrest than the death of their abusive boss.

She wiped the look of worry off of her face when she heard his heavy footsteps coming back up the stairs.

"Who was it?"

"Your brother," his tone held disgust, "invited us to dinner on Sunday. He asked to speak to you but I told him you were still sleep."

"Lee!"

"I don't want to hear it," his voice boomed, much more dominant and rough than hers, "I ain't having dinner with him and I don't want to hear your mouth about it."

Y/n stayed silent and watched him grab the police hat resting on the dresser. She hated for him to leave on such a sour note, but she wouldn't dare say anything in fear she might make things worse.

He started towards the door of their bedroom before turning back to his wife, "Sandy supposed to stop by Saturday. I don't know why, so don't ask, but she claims she's comin'. Who knows if she'll stick to her word."

It’s like Lee did that on purpose, as some sort of sick payback for her brother calling. Y/n was not fond of Sandy and did not like to be around her for more than ten minutes. Sandy was a nice girl, a bit unsavory at times, but her husband Carl was a stain on her life. There was something about him that reminded her of the men her mother had warned her about when she was a young teenager; a man with a slick tongue and a creepy air around him. However, she found Carl much more sinister than that. The look in Carl's eyes when he looked at her and flashed her that unsettling smile was imprinted into her brain. They did not come around much, but when they did it was always a traumatic experience for Y/n.

Lee left the room before Y/n could respond. He knows how Y/n feels, but he can’t bring himself to care right now. She’s not going to protest against it because she knows better than that. He focused on the sound of soft babbling from his daughter as he walked into her room.

"Hey you," she looked up at him with her big eyes and her widening smile that made his heart swell, "you gonna be good for your mama? You've been on a mean streak lately and I'd hate to make good on my threat and put you in baby jail."

His daughter reached up and tried to grab at his face. Lee was clean-shaven now, but for the first few months of his daughter's life he had enough hair on his face for her to grab a hold of. It was funny to see how she still tried to grab at his non-existent hair, pinching his skin in the process.

"Miss the beard little lady? You're just like your mama," he kissed her forehead and felt a deep sense of guilt that he had to leave her to go to work. But everything he did was for her and if he believes that the long hours are going to pay off. All of his work is going to pay off when he wins that race.

-

The dress her daughter wore was blush to complement her mother's golden one. She looked around at every single building and person they passed as if it was her first time seeing it again. Her sense of wonder always made Y/n adore her even more. Y/n wondered what was going on in the little mind of her and what sense she made of the world.

She was never fussy when they were out, which was good for Y/n, but also good for the rehabilitation of Lee's image. He has such a good daughter and pretty wife, he must be doing something right. Every single person who stopped to say hi or coo at how cute her baby was, Y/n wondered if they have ever said something negative about Lee. Y/n never received weird stares or grimaces that would make her paranoid, but she still felt on edge. She always wanted to be on her best behavior, especially when Lee was not with her.

Y/n was forced to be her normal self; cheerful even though her mind was reeling over two nights ago, her sister-in-law, and what the conversation between Lee and her brother this morning may have sounded like. When one of the toddlers thrusted their drawing her face she feigned an excited smile. She hoped the mother's didn't notice her lackluster attitude.

"Y/n , can I speak with you?"

It was Sally's voice that called to her. She looked at the blonde woman with a bit of panic on her face. She thought that she was going to get chewed out by her, especially since she pulled her far away from the other children, and her daughter who was being held by one of the recently graduated girls.

"Is everything alright Sally?"

"I should be asking you that. Why am I hear things about Mrs. Blackwater sayin' she seen your Lee dumpin' bodies in the river behind her house?" At that moment Y/n could not hear her despite her lips still moving. Her blood ran cold at that last name being mentioned. It's been years, close to a decade, since she thought about that old woman, but the mere mention of her name brought Y/n back to a place she didn't want to be.

"I-I...I don't know what she's talking about-"

"My husband and I made a sizable donation to your husband's campaign, and it would be a shame to see him lose," the sugary voice and fake smile on Sally's face made Y/n's stomach ache. She didn't like how some of these women could be so fake because it always made her question if they really liked her or not. But Sally didn't care what Y/n would respond with, all she cared about was her and her husband's reputation, "you're not that much younger than me so you remember them days when that old bitch would be on her porch spewin’ whatever nonsense she could think if at any girl who walked on her sidewalk. No one likes Mrs. Blackwater, but don't think for a second they won't consider what she has to say about that husband of yours. I've heard too many whispers about him and I don't like it. I'll pull my endorsements if you don't fix this shit."

Was murdering one person not enough to save her husband from losing this race? The brothel owner was one person, someone who would not be missed by many people, but could she do something about Mrs. Blackwater?

'That's not right, that's not right.'

No matter how much she tried to shake that evil idea off, it kept creeping into her mind. Murder was the unlikely tool she had in her arsenal all along. It was morally wrong to kill someone, but her victim and the potential one had not been nice people. Mrs. Blackwater's stain on this Earth paled in comparison to Reed's, but that woman made her blood run much colder than the brothel owner.

It was so ironic that Mr. Blackwater was a beloved man in town because no one could stand his wife. They knew not to cross her path and that pies and home cooked meals would not abate her disdain for people. A man who was so kind and friendly was married to the most antisocial person Y/n has ever come across. But he never wasted a moment to sing her her praises. Y/n remembers one of her sons and he was mean just like his mother; a school yard bully that would beat up on anyone he saw as weak and alone. Y/n was lucky that he knew she had an older brother to protect because the Blackwater’s youngest boy never tried anything with her. However, she was not lucky enough to escape the wrath of Mrs. Blackwater. The irony was that she probably would've been better off being a victim of her son. That woman was nasty and wasn't afraid to show it.

"Don't you two get tired of dressing like whores?"

They had to pass the Blackwater house to get to Rose's house. Her house used to be at the end of the street before it got burned down, leaving the Blackwater house the last one on the street. It was nice, and had a big, big porch that Mrs. Blackwater always sat on for most of the day. She didn't stop at calling them just "whores'' and "wenches" either. Y/n never could understand why they always took the brunt of that woman's anger. Rose went home in tears every time she walked by that house. Maybe Y/n's anger is displaced, but she blames Mrs. Blackwater for why Rose was so eager to leave. There wasn't much here, but Rose always promised she'd stay. But ever since they encountered Mrs. Blackwater's misery, Rose had changed.

She could imagine that same venomous voice saying awful things about her husband, "Lee Bodecker put that body in the water. I saw it with my own two eyes!"

The thought of her husband killing someone shouldn't sound so crazy, especially after being able to do it herself. But her Lee can't be a cold-hearted man who slept with whores, murdered people, and ruined people lives. He was so sweet to her, he wasn't always was, but his touch was so soft against her skin, how could he hurt anyone?

Y/n had just turned 19 when she met Lee. He was a deputy, closer to being the sheriff than either of them knew at the time. Their age difference scared her somewhat; she only gave him a chance so she could distract herself from reminding herself that she should be finishing up the last year of being a college freshman. She had the grades and thought her test scores were satisfactory but she got rejected from Indiana University. Her father told her that there is always next year, but her mother told her she should just figure out a new plan.

It was the uncertainty and loneliness that made her get closer to Lee. He was close to his late 20s, unmarried, and he didn't exactly make his loneliness unknown.

He left a sour taste in her mouth in their very first encounter; pulling her over as an excuse to get her number. She gripped the steering wheel to stop them from shaking so much. She only had her license for a few weeks and made sure to be careful in fear of this exact situation happening. His slick talk didn't make her feel that much better either. She was too shaken up to even look at him in the eye or take in any of his features. She just remembered seeing his badge the words DEPUTY SHERIFF etched into it.

Lee let her off, saying she had a "pretty face" and that he hoped to see her around. She didn't think much about their interaction the days after he pulled her over, but she began to see him more than before. Y/n couldn't remember a time she had seen him prior to that one night and found it odd that his face kept reappearing. (He later told her that it was fate, but it was not. Lee purposefully put himself in her orbit. It was not hard to learn what her routine was and when she went out.)

She was weary about his advances, unsure how to react to them because the most experience she's had was with two boys, only one of whom she kissed. Their first date was not by choice either, he just decided to stick by her side while she was at the local dinner by herself.

And he has always stuck by since then, always hovering around her until she realized he was not going to go away and it’d be futile to ignore him. Lee never gave her the chance to make the decision for herself, but his girl was so sweet and she just needed a few cushy words for her to understand that this was where she belonged.

"Do your parents know you're out here meeting me?" It had only been a matter of time before she learned to be very obedient to him; always accepting his plans, even if it meant sneaking out of the house in the midnight hour. The smirk he wore on his face every time he watched her walk up to him left her feeling enchanted.

"Don't talk too loud. If my brother hears you he'll kill you and have my head."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her front to him. Lee groaned at the feel of her breast against his chest. She was so nervous to do anything with him that she only let him kiss her. It was fine for a while, but he had grown tired of waiting. Tired of being teased by her in those soft, pink dresses that would ride up whenever she had to bend over even just a little bit. He couldn't believe how naive she was to believe he was always dropping things like a pencil or his wallet on accident; he just wanted to see her bend over for him just for a chance to peak at what pretty panties she wore that day.

Getting her to come out with him at night was surprising, but the idea of riding in his patrol car was so alluring. The sparkle in her eyes gave him an overwhelming sense of machismo; enough for him to realize he just needs to take what she wants.

The full moon hung in the clear sky and they had a vast, open field in front of them. He took her just to the edge of the county that was secluded and was his favorite spot to go for some quiet (or getting his dick sucked). The moonlight and a few street lights that were actually working were the only light they had.

"You look so pretty today baby," his hand rested on her thigh the whole entire drive but only now did he actually move it to stroke her skin, "you always look so pretty for me. I'm the luckiest man in town."

Y/n giggled and her face felt like it was burning up. No one had taken the time to compliment her sweetly, and that was obvious to Lee. He cradled her face in the palm of his hand and watched her turn into putty. His hand inches closer to her heat causing her to jump like his hand was made of actual fire.

"Relax baby...just relax for me," Lee planted his face in her neck and nipped at it. His lips tickled the skin on her neck and she did her best to suppress her giggles but they spilled from her lips. Lee smirked against her skin, "there she is. There's my girl."

She let a laugh slip through, but she suppressed the moan that was stuck in her throat. It was so odd to feel him on her neck but it was an unfamiliar feeling that she liked. His hand never left her thigh, in fact he had sneakily moved it closer to her sex. She felt ashamed about the growing wetness that she could feel sticking to her.

Lee grabbed her hand and placed it right over the bulge straining in his pants. She let out a heavy sigh when she realized what it was. "That's how hard you make me. You making me so fucking hard girl," he growled in her ears. This was something only the senior girls from her high school could dream about when they talked about hooking up with their boyfriends. None of them were even half the man Lee was, and here he was: hard and ready just for her.

"L-Lee," her voice broke into bits, her body overheating from Lee taking control, "wait, can we slow down?"

"You taste so sweet baby," he continued kissing her, ignoring her until she was pulling away from his grasp. "What's wrong girl?" The furrowing of his brow made her worry that she pissed him off. Lee was all she had, he convinced her to put away her dream of going to college and stay here for him, if she ran him off then she'd have nothing else.

"I'm just nervous. I’ve never done this before Lee," she hoped her honesty went a long way and would make him take her home instead. But all it did was make him readjust himself in his seat and pull away from her rather coldly.

Lee was irritated with her, she got him all hard, but he did his best to temper his anger. She's lucky that he was on the job all day and didn't have a chance to drink yet or else she'd see the side of him that he purposely hid from her.

"Don't be nervous baby. You know I love you right?" She nodded her head with her wide eyes holding a sad look in them, "good girl. Let me show you something."

Lee patted his lap and Y/n looked at him with apprehension.

"C'mon now," he patted his lap once again, this time with a bit of impatience in his voice.

Y/n awkwardly shifted over the center console of his patrol car and found herself in his lap. His strong arms wrapped around her waist and he rested his chin on her shoulder. She tried to ignore how his bulge poked at her slit through her cotton panties.

"You ever been in a car this nice before?"

"Uh-uh," she shook her head, somewhat distracted by the beautiful interior and his cock poking at her. The only car she's ever drove was the shitty one that was passed down to her. Lee's patrol car doesn't look like it's more than five years old.

Seeing her look in wonder at the dash made him even harder. He began to rut against her, trying to feel as much friction as he could, but it wasn't enough to satiate a man who has been waiting a few months for this.

He sat back and started fumbling with his pants. Y/n heard the sound of the metal on his belt and unzipping of his pants but she froze on top of him instead of moving. She grabbed the steering wheel and held onto it as tight as she did the night he first laid eyes on her. Her alarm rose when Lee lifted her up a little to push her panties to the side.

"Lee what are you doing-"

"Shhh baby don't worry, I got you."

The sensation of his head poking at her slit and her sliding down him was unspeakable. She was uncomfortable with his splitting size, but he didn't move her at all, trying to give her some time to adjust but it was just so hard for him to restrain himself. She was so tight and warm, and definitely untouched by any man. "Fuck," he mumbled warmly in her ear. She felt him wrap his arm tighter around her, almost as if he was afraid she was going to somehow run away from him. Even if she wanted to, she wouldn't know her way back home and she'd be stuck out here. She was safe with Lee even though she found herself feeling more confusion than pleasure.

Those girls from her high school days had to been lying to her, sex didn’t feel all that magical; his patrol car was not a romantic place to lose her virginity. Lee rocked her on his cock slowly as she tried to find the same pleasure that he was experiencing. His heavy breath was on her ear as she stared straight up into the night sky.

"You feel so good. You feel so fucking good baby."

His pleasure is what made her want to stay on top of him like this. She cared for him so much and she just wanted Lee to be proud of her. The "good girl" that continuously spilled from his lips sounded like a hymn she wanted to memorize.

Y/n let Lee have his way with her body. He groped her breast through her dress and then let his hands graze her sides. She wondered what he was doing when his hand slipped into her panties, but the warmth that shot through her made her mind go blank. Lee rubbed at her sensitive bud and she constricted around him. Instead of whimpering, she was now fully moaning; the way it felt so good had put her discomfort into the back of her mind.

"Oh fuck -- move your hips girl. You feel so good."

He rubbed her harder as a reward for swirling her hips against him. She began to bounce on top of him and he no longer had to do the hard work, just lean back and feel her engulfing him in her warmth.

"Lee," she whimpered, unsure of herself, but then she called his name again, "Lee," as if to let him know that he was the one giving her pleasure.

Lee knew he wasn't going to last, not when she was as tight and wet as she was. He can't remember the last time he took someone's virginity, nor when he was this hard. It was clear to him that she had no idea what she was doing by the way she bounced on him without a rhythm. Sometimes she'd stall herself before moving fast again. It didn't irk him, he found it endearing that she was so inexperienced. He was going to have to show her a lot of things and get her to fuck him to his liking.

Y/n gasped when Lee pulled out of her and jerked himself until white liquid was splashing on the back of her panties. She'd have to wash them before her mother saw the stain.

"You did so good baby, taking my cock like a big girl," he placed a sloppy kiss on her cheek, still trying to catch his breath while she shifted on top of him. He put himself away and nudged her towards the empty passenger seat. She was silent the entire time he drove her home. A sense of pride filled her because she had made Lee feel good. The sex itself was too weird to describe as being good, but she liked how she felt inside when he told her she felt good and that she made him cum. That's all she wanted to do was please Lee.

-

Saturday morning proved to be another beautiful day. It seems as if Summer didn't want to leave just yet even though October was near. There wouldn't be many more opportunities for Lee to make his impressions and sway the last few voters not on his side.

The event had been boring at most, but Sally's words really shook her up. No one in town would deny that Mrs. Blackwater has always been a bitter women, but they also wouldn't necessarily turn the other cheek if she starts going around saying that Lee Bodecker is a murder. Y/n's new problem made her forget about the decaying brothel owner. She doesn't care how mean the whole town thought the old woman was, she wanted her gone.

"You slept in. Did I tire you out last night?" Lee had the same smug smirk on his face that has been imprinted on her brains since their early years together.

Y/n nodded even though it wasn't completely truthful. She slept so hard because she's mentally spent and it was finally catching up with her body. Lee had been too distracted to notice how distant she was last night and how she is still distant now. In his eyes, as long as she was eager to lay under him then everything was fine.

Most mornings started like this: Y/n waking up next to her still tired husband and waiting to hear her daughter crying for her. He trudged out of bed and she heard him beat a path down the hall to the bathroom. There was still no sound of her daughter needing her, giving her some time alone. It was nearly silent except for the faint sound of the shower going. She breathed deeply and found herself feeling serene. Just five minutes without the memory of Sally threatening to pull her and her husband's support taunting her.

"Y/n! Do you not hear her crying?" Lee held a stern look on face, he must have been standing there for a few minutes. His towel was wrapped around his waist, stomach hanging over the soft white cotton, "what's wrong with you girl?"

She shook her head, "nothing Lee. I'm just still a lil' tired."

His face softened at her explanation but he nodded his head towards the door so she could take care of their daughter. Y/n hurried not to upset him for the rest of the day.

Their baby was just fussy and hungry. Her little eyes weren’t that red so she hadn’t been crying for long. “You hungry?” Her daughter somewhat understood what her mother was saying because her eyes went wide. The nightgowns Lee had bought Y/n made it much easier for her to pull herself out of them to feed their girl. She could see her daughter calming down, eyes closing once again. Y/n thought about keeping her daughter with her but she needed to rest in her crib. She placed her down gently as not to disturb and wake her again. At least one person in this family deserves peace.

"Back to sleep?" Lee's voice startled her, but the hand on her hip soothed her. Y/n nodded, never taking her eyes away from her girl. "Precious isn't she? So sweet when she's not fussin' about."

"She only fusses because she's teething, and she misses her father."

"Honey, you know why I'm at work longer than usual. It's for her. It's for you. It's for us. Do you know how much better her life, your life, is going to be better after I win that race?"

"But what if you don't win?"

Y/n rarely questions Lee, not even over small things, so he was confused as to why she was questioning him now. Did his wife not believe in him? She worried a lot, but when he first ran for sheriff, she was not this doubtful.

"What are you trying to say?"

"Lee, I didn't say that. It's just that people been talkin' and -"

"And you believe them? So my own wife doesn't think I'm going to win because a few people can’t got some things wrong?”

Y/n flinched as his voice got louder. The brashness of his voice woke their girl up from her attempt to fall into a deep sleep. Instead of waking up and silently looking around, the first thing that came from her was a cry. It served as a way for Y/n to escape Lee's wrath. She pulled her crying daughter into her arms and held her close to her chest. One glance at Lee's face and she knew he was going to deal with her later. But for now he just sighed and walked out of the nursery.

"Aww don't cry honey. It was just your daddy, okay? He's not mad at you sweetheart. Don't cry...don't cry," Y/n's voice cracked and tears slipped down her face. Her pleas were more for herself than they were her daughter.

Lee's hesitance to address the obvious problems he faces in regards to the election made Y/n feel uneasy. All she wanted was for her husband to just outright say he never did those things, but he never did. And if Y/n has resulted to murder, then she knows deep down that he did some of those things that people allege. There were just things that were too loud to drown out. The business when it came to solving a string of murders that happened a few years ago and people talking about him didn't affect him when he was going for re-election. There was no one else that had a strong enough presence to go against him and the folks in town figured that Lee gets enough done as far as crime goes, even though he could do more.

Y/n should be tired of trying to clean up his mess when he was so short with her. However it is not entirely his fault; he does not know. Maybe one day he'll learn and be grateful for what she has done for him.

-

Lee just couldn't stop reminding her that Sandy and Carl were coming over. It's almost as if he knew it got under Y/n's skin and used it against her after she hurt his feelings this morning. He's a sensitive one, even though he hides it well from most people, but her moment of vulnerability wasn't meant to hurt him. Though if their conversation had progressed any further, she might have spilled what she did to the brothel owner. She may want to believe Lee would be proud of her, but she cannot be so sure. It's sickening to assume that someone would be proud of a murder. She quickly began to feel dirty after a few minutes with her own thoughts ever since Lee snapped at her.

"Can you clean up? We're going to be having guests soon."

There were just a few baby toys on the floor but it was best not to make things worse with Lee (even though those toys were going to end up in the same place anyway).

Lee stepped outside as Y/n put their daughter in her high chair. Ever since her birth Lee was mindful not to smoke in the house; it was one of the house rules Y/n proposed that he was surprisingly very accepting of. She had taken away most of the things that he used to destress: alcohol, cigarettes, and candies.

She heard the motor of a car and Lee's muffled voice. She knew it was them, but hoped they were just making a short trip over. It's not like Lee likes Carl, and he's constantly complaining about his trouble making sister. Y/n hates that Sandy uses their daughter as an excuse to come over. She wouldn't mind if Sandy came alone, but she hated Carl around her little girl and she's sure Lee feels the same way.

Y/n's mother had gotten their daughter such a stupid gift when she was born. A baby that's not even half a year old yet didn't need a toy that had a million little pieces they could easily choke on, but of course it was her favorite thing to place with. Lee never cleaned up the mess, it was always Y/n who was doing it. She tried her best to pick everything up before they stepped inside but she heard the front door open. She tensed up, but she only heard the heavy footsteps of one person, and god did she hope it was Lee.

"What you doin' down there?"

Her eyes trailed up and Carl was gazing down at her. Words got caught in her throat and she clutched her hand around one of the toy pieces, the edges of it painfully digging into her palm.

"Did I scare you?"

The smirk on her face made her want to shriek. She noted that he didn't call her "darlin'" like he used to. She can only guess what Lee did to him when he "took him out back" after calling her that for a few years.

"Where's my niece?"

Y/n shot up, not caring about the toys still on the floor. She'll be damned if Carl is alone with her daughter for even a second.

Sandy came in with Lee following behind her. He gave Y/n a look of understanding, he too hoped this was going to be a short visit. The sound of Sandy fawning over her niece overtook the room. Their daughter giggled and babbled at her aunt as if she could understand her.

"Y/n go make us some ice tea."

Usually Lee doesn't command her to do things, unless he was stressed or horny. She knew her was the former by the look on his face. He was aggravated and this visit wasn't going to make him feel any better. As Y/n left the room, Sandy sat down on their couch with their daughter in her arms. Carl sat next to them, making the alarm in Lee rise.

"I got you something honey," she pulled out a little doll from her purse. It looked tattered and Lee wondered where she got it from.

"You know she already has enough dollies," Lee joked. It didn't matter to his girl, it was a new toy, "got anything for your brother?"

Sandy eyes him before pulling out a small bag of candy. She tossed it to him and he caught it, "I knew you'd ask for somethin'"

He opened it and instantly popped a sweet cherry candy into his mouth.

"Y/n's not letting me drink since the girl is so young. This is the only thing I got, even though she's on my ass about that too," Lee knew that Sandy wasn't too interested in the ins-and-outs of his everyday life but he gets tired of complaining to his deputies.

"Yea, I bet," she kept a snide comment about her sister-in-law to herself. The box of cigarettes she had calling her name we're going to have to wait. "How's that mayor race going?"

"It's going."

"Heard that whore house owner croaked," Carl's voice carried to the kitchen and Y/n paused, "found in unusual circumstances...chairs pushed up against the door...poisoned. Reckon one of those girls got tired of him holdin' them down-"

"No smoking in the house," Lee interrupted when he noticed Carl reaching for the pack of cigarettes in his shirt pocket. Carl laughed as if he wanted to challenge Lee, but his hand went back to resting on the back of the couch.

"Wouldn't want this little darlin' smellin' like a bar."

Anytime Carl spoke at or about her daughter, Y/n wanted to vomit. Carl is not nice. She wonders how twisted Sandy might be to marry someone who is awful to women and has no filter.

There was a cloud of fear over her head when Carl was around. She wishes Lee was more apprehensive but Sandy's his little sister, and he cares for her no matter how much those two causes. Things would be different if Y/n had told Lee about that time Carl pressed himself against and put his hand up the skirt of her dress. His threat would forever bounce off her skull and it only got louder when he was near. "Shut you're fucking mouth or else your husbands gonna see his slut wife bending over for another man." She was five months pregnant and had no way to defend herself. He only groped her, but she always wondered if he would've gone further if Sandy hadn't come in looking for the cooking tongs Lee told her to fetch. Sandy knew something had happened, but she said nothing. Y/n's disdain for her only grew from that day on.

Lee redirected the conversation from what Carl had started to something a bit more asinine. He didn't want to talk about something work-related because he didn't need to be stressed out any further. Reed’s death wasn't another blow to his reputation like Lee thought it would. It was going to be another unsolved murder from the way it was looking though. The people assumed one of the girls did it. The place had been emptied out; it surely looked different from when Lee was last in there. Lee was lucky that Reed was extremely disliked, unlike that preacher Roy who died some years ago. More people said "he had it coming" instead of "why isn't the sheriff doing anything?"

He laughed about it though. When he was alone in the car after leaving the crime scene, he laughed. There was no more worrying about the rumor that Sheriff Lee Bodecker beat one of his girls. When Lee did go to that place, he was never forceful. Lee could be mean towards women at times, but he was never violent.

-

If Lee was called in on a Sunday morning, then it was very important. He woke Y/n up at 5 am and kissed her out of her confused state to say goodbye. She only slept for another hour after laying her head down back on the pillow.

This morning felt so different.

The morning she woke up knowing her task was to deal with Reed, she was distracted and jumpy. But she had grown so accustomed to her guilt that it's become a comfortable feeling. Mrs. Blackwater was a more personal score to settle. That woman was throwing dirt on Lee's name, but the turmoil she caused her teenage friend would never leave her mind. Y/n had learned how cruel someone could be without physically hurting you. The boys on school grounds were annoying brats, but that woman had a truly awful mouth.

The Petersons’ daughter was over right after church. She had a wide smile on her face, happy that Mrs. Bodecker was giving her another opportunity to make some money.

"She's been a fairly good mood lately," Y/n handed her daughter off to the shorter teenage girl, "she slept through the night for once, but she's still gonna need a nap. Once she starts fussin' put her in her crib. I should be back before Lee."

Y/n wished her well and the Petersons girl wished Y/n a good time running her errands. It was comical to think of this as an errand, even though today she was going to treat it like one.

She was in Lee's nice car again meaning she was going to have to temporarily get rid of it. Y/n put much more effort into this, her haphazard plan to take out Reed could've gone horribly wrong. She spent her time snooping around town when she was out with one of her mom friends. The plan had been simple: park the car at the crowded grocery just two blocks away from the Blackwater house. The house sat at the end of the street, a bit separated from the other row of houses because of the larger amount of land they owned. It wouldn't be a problem to walk to the house seeing as others in this neighborhood do the same thing.

When her mother had made that dress for her to wear to the Spring Formal, Y/n cried, saying she was going to look like a nurse instead of "the prettiest girl in town" like Jim, the guy who asked her to the dance said. A teenage grievance had somehow come in handy almost a decade later. It was under a long coat that was a bit abnormal for this warm day.

Y/n felt sickly confident. That only thing she worried about was Lee cruising through and seeing his car in the parking lot. But the grocery store offered a great cover. The sun was covered by a thick cloud as she walked away from the grocery store and to the old Blackwater house.

That porch still looked the same. It was old and rickety, squeaking as she stepped on it, she's surprised it didn't give it away some years ago. The rocking chair Mrs. Blackwater sat on while terrorizing people was no longer there. At least her days of scaring off the newer generation of kids were over.

Y/n knocked on the door and waited. She had to knock again, and by the third time she wondered if the old lady did the job for her!

"Who is it?" The voice was much more frail, but it was that voice.

"I'm here to help!" The upturn of her voice at the end made her statement sound more like a question.

The locks on the door began to click and Mrs. Blackwater peered at her.

"You're not the one they always send."

"Oh, she's sick today! I'm just filling in for her today!" After two weeks of watching, Y/n learned what days Mrs. Blackwater's nurse came and went. She came everyday but she was absent on Sundays. It's somewhat astounding that Mrs. Blackwater didn't ask about Y/n turning up on a Sunday.

"Ahh whatever," she dismissed, unlocking the screen door, and wheeling backwards in the wheelchair that she had been relegated to a few years ago.

Y/n didn't know what to expect when she stepped inside, but it wasn't too far off from how her parent's house looked; black and white photos littering the walls and stacks of paper that probably could've been thrown away a decade ago. What is different from her parent's home is that this place is an utter mess. The nurse that usually comes to take care of her could at least tidy it up a bit. With how much she hated everything, Y/n would've assumed she hated mess too, but her home says otherwise. This lady was an absolute hoarder.

"Don't bother me," Mrs. Blackwater sniped at her. She wheeled herself next to the couch and glued her eyes to the black and white television screen.

Y/n doesn't know how many hours Mrs. Blackwater spent sitting there and watching The Andy Griffin Show. She didn't laugh when something funny happened, she just sat there still, sometimes grumbling to herself in reaction to what was happening on screen.

The least Y/n could do was tidy up a bit. It would be a kind gesture to leave her to die in a presentable place.

Mrs. Blackwater is not going to die a violent death. She was awful, but she did not deserve the brutality like someone who has done physical harm did. (If she was just a little bit braver, she would've hacked him to death, but the sight of blood makes her ill). Mrs. Blackwater was up in age, nearing her 90s, and it would be time for her to go soon anyway. Y/n dusted around the TV, one of the last things this old woman may see. All the photos of people on the walls were staring at her as she moved about cleaning the dust from the frames. So many people, many dead but most probably alive. Mrs. Blackwater had children and probably grandchildren but no one came to visit her. Her tongue was sharp, but how could no one come and visit their aging mother?

"Stop moving so damn much. Sit down girl."

The venom was still in her voice. It would never go away, at least not until she dies. This woman didn't appreciate anything and enjoyed being miserable. Y/n listened to her like that scared little teenager she used to be. She sat on the couch, a few feet away from Mrs. Blackwater who had not taken her eyes off the TV or moved at all. Y/n was spending time with a woman who was going to die at her hands today. If she's going to die then at least she's going to die doing what she loves; watching her shows and bitching out the closest person in reach.

She had only moved to grab the newspaper from the table on the other side of her. It was Friday's addition, Y/n could tell from the photo on the cover. She couldn't help but eye the old woman as she read the paper. It has been probably three hours and she hasn't even asked for anything to eat.

"People droppin' like flies in this shit hole."

Y/n's ears perked up, but she didn't say anything, she just let the lady talk.

"Leroy should know better not to do that shit here...especially with that corrupt sheriff around...would've had an easier time gettin' away with it in the city. Everyone in the city already does all that illegal shit so it probably wouldn’t have mattered anyway. Now he’s dead."

Y/n had heard that name before. She remembers vividly Lee chewing someone out on the phone and saying their name with contempt. Leroy, Leroy, Leroy. The name "Bobo" also came up in the conversation a few times. Y/n wanted to be mad at Mrs. Blackwater for referring to her husband as "corrupt" but something nagged at her to keep the conversation going for her sake.

"W-what do you mean?" Her voice cracked but it was ignored by the old woman.

"You must not be from here. Everyone knows that if you get caught up with that fat bastard sheriff you must be doin’ some awful shit. The only reason why he keeps gettin' re-elected is because everyone is scared of him. It doesn't matter how many babies that man has, he's a killer...dragging that man's body and fucking up carnations..."

No one had ever talked to Mrs. Bodecker about her husband like this. Town gossipers had the decency to wait until she left the room to say something about him. But she's not Mrs. Bodecker right now. It does not matter anyway because the old lady doesn't know what she's talking about. She hasn't spent the hours with Lee, with him being sweet and so soft with his daughter. Y/n firmly believes that if Lee did indeed kill someone then it was for a good reason. She knows her husband involves himself in dirty things, but it had to be for a good reason. Lee did not show brutality for no reason; he didn't get his rocks off on hurting innocent people.

"People can change. I'm sure he's a different man now."

"Why!? Because he got a bitch and a bastard? You are too naïve...at least the other girl they send has some more sense in her head. No man is going to want to marry a dumb girl."

An awkward silence surrounded them but it was mostly felt by Y/n. She found herself frozen with a ball of rage and anxiety in her stomach. But she had no time to dwell for much longer though.

"I'm thirsty...go make me something."

Y/n noticed Mrs. Blackwater flinching when she grabbed the remote to turn the volume higher. She either had arthritis or just pain in her hands.

"Okay...do you need to take any pills at this time?"

"My husbands gone and my children don't visit me. You think I care about taking my pills?"

Maybe Mrs. Blackwater would be kind to her if she knew Y/n was going to take her out of her misery. Breaking open the capsules and dumping it in the tea she made for her is going to do the job. She might succumb to a heart attack, or pass peacefully. The only person Y/n felt bad for was the poor nurse who was going to find her dead tomorrow morning.

-

Lee was able to leave his shift earlier than expected. Sundays are very quiet, the only thing he got up to was paperwork at the station. He could go home early to his wife, play with the girl while Y/n makes dinner, and get a nice ride from his wife while their daughter sleeps. Y/n said something about needing him to pick up some chicken stock from the grocery store.

People filled in and out of the grocery store as the sun began to set. A few people spoke to him, never for too long knowing that he's not fond of small talk. But more people being friendly with him was a good sign. Even without his sweet wife next to him, no one shied away from saying hello to the man running for Mayor.

Two boxes of chicken stock should be enough even though his wife sent him for three. The brand she likes isn’t exactly cheap. Lee promptly made his way to the cashier who greeted him with a smile.

"Good evening sheriff!" her voice was sweet and she batted her eyes a few times. Lee offered her a smile, but a small laugh escaped. This girl couldn't be younger than 20 but she fawned over him like a young school girl. Her behavior reminded him of Y/n when she was that age. "Darlene said she saw your car in the parking lot but didn't get a chance to catch Mrs. Bodecker herself."

Lee stopped caring about the items (a few snuck in there for him) being rung up. His brows furrowed and the girl realized that she had said something maybe she shouldn't have.

"My wife was here?"

"That's what Darlene said. Her shift ended right as I was coming in so I wasn't there when it happened...do you still want the chicken stock?"

"Yea yea just ring it up."

Lee's mind was too preoccupied with the weird behavior his wife has been exhibiting for the last several weeks. She often hovered over him when he was on the phone like she was interested in what he was talking about. All the swearing and terms she didn't understand kept her from asking what his loud, and often abrasive, phone conversations were about. But now she was listening a little too hard for his liking.

The only time Y/n was supposed to drive their car is if Lee told her she could or if there was an emergency. A trip to the grocery store did not fall under either of those categories. But it was particularly weird to him that she would go to the store when she told him to go himself. If she had forgotten something, she would have not hesitated to call the station. Something was up with her.

Everything felt normal as he stepped into the house. The smell of what she was cooking hit his nose and the familiar noises of his daughter babbling louder than the Y/n moving around the kitchen. If he had no questions for his wife, then he'd feel all warm inside walking into his home in this current state.

Y/n was talking to their daughter as if she was holding a real conversation with her. Their daughter started squealing when she saw Lee appear in the doorway. He put his index finger to his lips to tell her to quiet herself, but she was only louder.

"I couldn't believe it either! They said the hairdresser purposefully dyed Marie's hair darker," she spoke, thinking her daughter was just squealing because she was talking to her and not because her husband was creeping up behind her.

Hands snaked around her waist and she nearly jumped. "Oh yea? Is that what the town is gossipin' about today?" Lee's familiar voice soothed her and she turned around in his arms. She deftly kissed him and looked up at him.

"Wanna know what else I heard?" He whispered to her. Y/n nodded, a smile spreading on her face as she rested her forehead against his, "heard the sheriff's wife been out and about and driving his nice car."

Y/n's smile fell from her face, but it only made Lee smile wider.

"You wanna tell me what you were doing out?"

"I needed something from the store."

"So my task to pick up the chicken stock after work was for nothing?"

"No...I went to my parents house...didn't want to go empty-handed. You know how my mother gets."

What a sweet little liar.

But she still had the smell of an old house lingering around her so maybe it wasn’t completely a lie. Still, he knew something was up with her.

“How was work?” She quickly tried to change the subject. Lee was not really in the mood to interrogate her, it was Sunday after all. He sat down in the chair next to his daughter's high chair. She started reaching for his hat but he was too far away, so Lee rested his head on the tray and let her have her fun. Y/n was probably going to be mad at him for putting his head where she eats and getting all of his “outside germs” all over it, but he didn’t care.

“I’m tired,” he confessed, a heavy sigh escaping him, “I’m really fucking tired.”

Y/n wishes she could lift more of her husband’s burdens. Killing people who were talking about him did not get rid of the core problem. Sometimes she wishes he never decided to run for mayor. Life was so much more comfortable when he would run unopposed for county sheriff. Instead her husband had a bigger dream. From the very beginning she felt like it was a long shot that this would be successful, but they had gotten so far in changing how most of the people viewed Lee. And even though they felt a way about him, they still respected the sheriff.

“It’s going to be over soon. I promise.”

He truly wanted to believe her, but the sinking feeling that the past was going to catch up with him was not going away.

[1ddotdhq]

🍌Wed 2 Dec ‘20💚

Harry Styles Reacts to Banana Innuendo Rumors by Making EVEN MORE Banana Innuendos part TWO

Good morning/evening/night to Harry’s post and Harry’s post ONLY! (Okay that’s not true but it was definitely a highlight of my day). In case people haven’t seen it yet, it’s Harry in a light blue custom made suit putting a penis banana in his mouth. The picture is captioned “Bring Back Manly Men” so take a suck on THAT Candace Owens! It was only one of many great pictures in his variety shoot (including another, um, fruity picture of him biting into a pomegranate okay Persephone we get it), but Harry did indeed choose That One to post on This, the day after banana necklace dickscourse, BLESS. Harry’s interview was a little more in depth than they have been in the past, touching upon his feelings on race (“Historically, I can’t think of any industry that’s benefited more off of Black culture than music. There are discussions that need to happen about this long history of not being paid fairly. It’s a time for listening, and hopefully, people will come out humbled, educated and willing to learn and change”), as well as his tattoos (the only time he regrets them is in the DWD makeup chair), his love of reading, fashion and art, his exercise routine (Kid Harpoon couldn’t keep up!),  and his feelings on success and acclaim (“It’s never why I do anything...it's always nice to know that people like what you’re doing, but ultimately — and especially working in a subjective field — I don’t put too much weight on that stuff...Fans are the best A&R”). 

The problems arose - as they so often do - when One Direction was mentioned. The article said that “The proof [of the band’s benefits] is in the relatively seamless solo transitions of at least three of its members- Payne, Malik and Horan in addition to Styles- each of whom has landed hit singles on charts in the U.K., the U.S. and beyond”. Leaving aside the bad math (that's 4 people!) one name, of course, is notably missing: Louis has in fact enjoyed quite a lot of success both with Walls (remember when his album went #1 on iTunes in the UK AND the US literally 2 months ago?) and his pre-Walls singles like “Back To You” and “Just Hold On”. It got worse because the author tried to back up her claim with Harry’s quote, “When you look at the history of people coming out of bands and starting solo careers, they feel this need to apologize for being in the band...but we loved being in the band...I think there’s a wont to pit people against each other. And I think it’s never been about that for us. It’s about a next step in evolution. The fact that we’ve all achieved different things outside of the band says a lot about how hard we worked in it”. By linking her own words with Harry's quote she made it seem as though Harry said it to agree with her biased take, which we'd know he didn't even if we hadn't heard him say this exact quote without that slant multiple times before. Fans were quick to point out both to the author and to Variety that they were wrong (to describe the reaction mildly), and the author rather than fixing the mistake, doubled down and began blocking fans. Plenty of people were quick to say that of course HSHQ and Harry had approved this content, despite more knowledgeable fans trying to be heard protesting that that is not how it works. (Remember how just recently Vogue got Harry’s whole ass FAMILY situation wrong and it was not corrected until after print, for example?) In fact, even the magazine didn't really proofread this- the print version of the article is different and says, “The proof is in the relatively seamless solo transitions of at least three of its members - Styles, Malik and Horan”, effectively erasing both Louis AND Liam. It's an annoying take either way, but it's one the author more than likely picked up by doing her research on harrie twitter, not on orders from Jeff.

And because we DO NOT STAND FOR LILO ERASURE ON THIS BLOG, let’s talk about Liam’s Web Summit panel! It was 25 minutes of Liam and Marian Dicus (VP of Spotify) being interviewed about the current and future state of the music industry. Both of them, of course, noted that things had changed very quickly in their careers back at the beginning of lockdown, and how it had seemed surreal, at first, but that Liam had found that the way he was operating now (with Veeps and Tik Tok and Instagram lives) had made his platform a two way interaction with his fans. “For a long time I've been living in a dream world where I thought I was speaking with my fans but really I was just talking at them whereas we as artists ask a lot of rhetorical questions... I wanted to start a conversation”. Marian discussed how engaging fans differently WAS one of the most difficult things to puzzle out at the beginning, but that as months have passed, it seems artists like Liam have found a viable virtual future in the music industry (Liam tells us that he's been doing “stadium size shows” on Veeps which is an exciting clue about the mystery of how many tickets they're selling). They also went into the way music trends change as a response to social and political occurrences, how comfort songs gave way to protest songs this summer. Liam said, “People want their artists to have an opinion nowadays it's not that we can stay out of the conversation anymore-- and nor do we feel that we should in many places-- but for me it's a fine line because I realize what I do for people is an escape, people don't want things rammed down their throats every day and news messages from me about things that they don't want to hear about if they've come to listen to music, so its a real fine line that we kind of teeter on”. And about his opening acts, he acknowledges that his fanbase are mostly young women (based on the data breakdowns he gets from his team), and so he feels a responsibility to mentor young female artists in the industry so that more people like his fans have a voice. In an interview full of really fascinating music and technical discussions, this remained my favorite moment from Liam. Just like we won’t erase HIM, he refuses to erase US! And let's not forget our Liam alarm of the day-- it starts out absolutely adorable (“good moooorning!”), is hilarious in that apparently he just rambled completely unscripted and then they awkwardly cut it into 25 parts, but today's installment is frankly not relaxing! “only 23 sleeps til christmas have you done your shopping are you prepared” excuse me Liam YOU ARE STRESSING ME OUT. The promised relaxing sleep story affirmations are still 'coming soon'-- hurry up please I need them to decompress after that alarm!

Now for a lightning round of epic proportions: DWD darling pictures and vids keep comin’ and Harry and Florence are both looking GORGEOUS as Jack and Alice,  after the Variety shoot dropped ‘THE CAPTION’, ‘BRING BACK MANLY MEN’, and ‘LOUIS IS SUCCESSFUL’ trended worldwide on twitter, Tan France said “yes please” to Harry's banana post, Harry reiterated that London was home and he didn’t want to be in LA for longer than he needed to,Variety has its virtual show tomorrow at 5 pm PST so see you there! Veeps is sending out emails promoting Louis’ show to people who bought LP show tickets, fans have already started to receive their Louis Tomlinson Live From London merch, Trinity College in Dublin’s Law society presented Niall with an award for, uh, his Irishness, I guess? (Just kidding, it’s for “his incredible talent and work ethics which is famously underscored by a distinct humility despite unthinkable success”). It looks like he will be giving a talk when he’s presented with it, and I’m honestly really interested to see what it’s all about - is he...gonna be talking to law students? Idk but tune in on December 7th at 12 pm GMT to find out!

[myheelsdontmatchmysweatpants]

This is my first collab fic and I could not be more excited! I'm so thankful that I can be part of the group!

The AU for this month was Sex Work. The Masterlist for this collab can be found here. Please take some time to check out everyone's contributions! There are other fics and amazing art!

That being said here is my fic, big BIG shout out to @doinmybesthere for being an amazing beta reader and sweet angel bb. ily Emme!

Please please please read the warnings. They are there for a reason!

Warnings: consensual noncon, mentions of being burnt, stabbing and blood; no prep penetration, disrespectful use of the word "whore", blackmail, psychological abuse?, Mineta (nuff said) he gets what's comin to him

You’re in the doctor’s office getting a regular checkup when you overhear the nurses in the station next to you talking.

“Look! They posted the new hero rankings today.”

“I forgot those were today, too bad they can’t have the conference during the pandemic. I miss seeing Deku all cute and blushing.”

“FUCK” In your brief moment of panic you forgot where you were. You cringe and look at the nurses, trying your best not to look like you were gonna be sick. “Sorry ladies, didn’t mean to yell.” No point in offering an explanation. You wouldn’t be able to tell them anything anyway.

As you very impatiently wait for your blood results to come back you check the tacky red cell phone you have to keep with you at all times. You had put it on silent since you were in the doctor’s office and you were glad you did. Taking a quick look at your screen had your stomach dropping into your ass.

M.M: Gonna move my appointment up to today.

M.M: You better get ready. I’m not happy.

M.M: I’m sure you saw the postings. Number 36.

M.M: I made sure to pay for any accidents in advance.

M.M: I’ll see you tonight.

Why does he have to be so fucking horrible? Accidents my ass.

The messages make your skin crawl, you should have figured the hero rankings would piss him off but honestly you never paid enough attention. With a heavy sigh you opened up your web browser and pull up the list.

“Number 36...number 36…. Number 36…” When you finally reached the hero you were looking for, you let out a sigh.

Hero Ranking Number 36: The Rainy Season Hero Froppy

Well at least you had her outfit already, for some reason she was one your client asked for a lot. Not that you wanted to ask him why, not with the way his black eyes looked whenever he saw you dressed up like her.

I don’t know if I should feel glad that he isn’t actually taking this out on her. Or upset that I’ve had to deal with this for months.

“L/N, Y/N?” The doctor walks up holding their clipboard and closing the privacy screen. Your file almost too much for the metal clip at the top. “Your test results came back negative and your burns seem to have healed very well. I would tell you that any strenuous activity should be avoided but we both know you can’t do that.”

Their poor attempt at humor had your stomach rolling. “Haha anyways Doc, I think I’m gonna need another medkit to take home today. I can schedule my next appointment online, right?”

You can’t handle the thinly veiled pity in their eyes and look down, reaching over to your side to grab your purse. You hear them moving around and a dark blue plastic box is put on your lap.

“If I remember correctly this is your favorite color, right? You are able schedule an appointment online but if you would like I can schedule it for you. How about in two days? Afternoon work for you?”

You look up after clutching the kit to your chest, you know they are just trying to be nice. All of the nurses are especially nice to you and as endearing as it might be to some people, to you it just feels dirty.

“Afternoon is perfect, thanks Doc.” You get up and walk towards the privacy screen. Before leaving you stop for a moment “Blue ismy favorite color.”

As you make your way back to your living quarters you scroll through the internet looking at every picture of the Pro-Hero Froppy you can find. Your quirk can project a person’s desires onto your body by reading them in their eyes. It’s easier when the person has a clear view of what or who they want. However, your client’s desires are such a jumbled mess that it’s easier if you know what it is beforehand.

Hopefully, I can act like her enough that I don’t have to look at his desires this time. I can’t stand how disgusting they make me feel.

You pass by a few familiar faces on your way back to your rooms but don’t pay them any mind. They in turn leave you alone, most of them knowing that when you have that look on your face you were in a mood.When you first were offered a position at the brothel you thought it would be easy money. You had been stripping for several years, known for how you looked different to everyone who saw your dancing. The beautiful, enchanting, flexible Erised. You had built up your quirks ability to be able to project almost a full clubs worth of desires. Sure, it caused extreme fatigue and chronic migraines but the money you raked in was well worth it.

A few months ago

After an especially successful night a patron walks up to you after you leave the stage.

“I have a job opportunity for you, courtesy of my employer.” He hands you a card you read “Heroes Consulting Agency” in bold silver letters.

“I’m a stripper hun, not sure I can do the type of consulting you’re looking for.” You go to hand it back, but they put their hand up.

“I’m afraid I must insist, why don’t we treat you to lunch and you can listen to our proposal?”

You put your hand back down and study them. They are dressed in a white button up with a vest, definitely out of place in a strip club. You would look in their eyes, but they didn’t really have any, their whole body seemed to be made of dark smoke. You don’t work in the nicest of places so someone with their kind of full body quirk isn’t unusual.

“Alright, I give. I’m not really one to pass up free food.” The rational side of your brain is telling you that you have more than enough money to buy your own food but the stingy part telling you to take it while you can is a little louder.

“Excellent choice Miss Erised. Someone will meet you at the address on that card tomorrow at around 5pm? Should give you enough time to recover from the side effects of your quirk.” They give a slight bow and walk off towards the exit, a large something getting up from a seat and following closely behind.

Sam, one of the waitresses walks up to you with a tray filled with drinks. Her normally short stature elevated with high heeled leather boots. “Did you know that person Y/N?”

Oh man, I do not have the energy for this.

You turn to her and survey the tray before grabbing something that looked like a fruity cocktail. “No, but they offered me a job. Gonna go have lunch with them tomorrow.” Sipping from the glass you tuck the card into your bra, making sure to not show it to the girl.

“That’s weird, don’t they know you’re a stripper? What is someone dressed that nicely want to hire you for? Also did that person look familiar to you or is that just me?” Any normal person wouldn’t be able to keep up with her unending questions, but you had known her for years. The tray in her hands tips dangerously to the left but she balances it out without a second thought.

Guess she does have to be quick on her toes to be a waitress at a strip club.

“They were here for my dance so yes they do know, either way I’m getting free food so…”

She huffs, aware of your attitude for anything “free”.

You finish the drink and place the empty glass back taking a couple bills from your bag and tucking them into her apron.

“Thanks for the drink Sam, but I gotta leave before my headache hits.” You walk off before she can say anything further. You really wanna be nice to her but her endless energy really gets on your nerves sometimes.

By the time you make it to your modest apartment, you can feel the pain starting behind your eyes. You drop your stuff by the door without turning on any lights and walk to the box safe hidden in the kitchen. After you make sure all the money is secure you grab a glass of water and head to the bedroom. The bottle of pain killers already set out on your nightstand. You should really take a shower but for now, you strip down, take a few pills, drink the whole glass of water, and lay down. It takes a while for the pills to kick in but once they do you finally fall asleep.

When you finally wake up the next morning your headache is gone, and you have to piss like no one’s business. You grumble as you stretch your tight sore muscles and get up to go to the bathroom. After taking care of business, you get into some light clothes and walk into the kitchen to make some food. Thankfully, you had some leftover rice and spam in the fridge, so you pop that in the microwave. You put the kettle on for some green tea and down another glass of water as it heats up.

Remembering the offer from yesterday and the promise of free food you pad over to your pile of things by the door and grab their card. It’s sleek looking with a plain black background and silver lettering. The address isn’t something you recognize right away so you look it up on your phone.

“What the fuck?” Why is this place in a business park?

You scroll down and check the street view; the building is a high rise surrounded by a mostly empty parking lot. The entrance of the building is blurred, probably to keep the privacy of anyone entering or exiting.

“Well, I guess it’s a nice gig. Better dress the part.” Or maybe you’re gonna get murdered.

“Wow, I really have to stop watching all those true crime shows.” You put the card in your wallet and head back to the kitchen. The microwave beeps and the kettle whistles shortly after. When you’re done eating you put the dishes in the sink to soak and head to the bathroom to finally take a shower.

By the time you have finished showering the whole bathroom is filled with steam and your body has a pink flush to it. You open the door to air it out and finish cleaning up for the day. Your outfit consists of your nicest jeans with ankle boots, a long sleeve blouse and a dark cardigan. You grab one of your smaller over the shoulder purses and leave your apartment.

One of the things you allowed yourself to really splurge on was a car. Public transportation was not as reliable as it could be and with your hours not the safest either.

By the time you make it to the building the sun is starting to set, giving the sky beautiful pink to blue coloring. As you park and get out of your car a young woman walks up to you.

“Welcome Miss Erised! Please follow me and I will escort you through the building.” The woman’s blonde hair is in two messy buns, her face childlike. Her voice was high pitched enough to grate on your nerves a bit, but you ignored it.

As you follow the person through the lobby you take a glance around. Looks like a high-end hotel lobby. There is a front desk area with a marble counter top, women that are dressed in matching button ups with their hair up in buns or ponytails. Random potted plants and small trees dot the area, and a nice chandelier hangs in the middle of the ceiling. No one besides the women at the front desk are in the area.

“Doesn’t seem to be busy right now.” You didn’t even really mean for her to hear you, but she did, and you sounded like an asshole.

They turn their head slightly with a knowing smirk. “It would seem that way wouldn’t it?”

Conversation halts while you stand in the elevator which you were thankful for. They had chosen a floor close to the middle of the building, which gave you just enough time to rethink your life choices.

By the time you got to your floor you are tired of the silence. Normally you hate small talk, but you figured you would give it a shot. “Do you like your job?”

The woman turns to you and smiles, here canines peeking out a bit while shrugging her shoulders. “It keeps me busy, plus I get to make so many friends.” The gleam in her eyes flashes menacingly for a quick second, you decide to pretend you didn’t see it.

As you get to the end of the hall, she opens a door and gestures you inside, closing it behind you. There is a nice desk to the left of the door, other than that the room is sparce. The person sitting in the chair has quite an eclectic look about him. Grey hair parted to the side, shrew eyes behind circular wire rimmed glasses, a gold chain peeks out from the slightly open white button up with a purple blazer. He reeks of cigarette smoke the evidence of his habit tossed into the half-filled ash tray on the desk.

“So nice of you to join me Miss Y/N. Why don’t you have a seat, we can talk about your new position.” He gestures to the only other chair a smirk on his face that shows of his missing tooth.

“I haven’t accepted the job yet Giran, and I thought I told you I don’t want to work for you.” You aren’t used to seeing him in this type of place. But you do know him so there is no need to put on a show. You lean back in the chair and cross your arms.

“How rude of me, you won’t be working for me, but I have been given authority to hire for this company.”

You don’t bat an eye; most large companies use outside help for hiring. “What is this position you would like offer me?”

“This company provides heroes with a way to alleviate their… desires in a safe and discrete way.”

“So, you hire prostitutes for heroes to have sex without worrying about anyone telling the press about it.”

“That is correct.”

“I don’t know if your just stupid or if you forgot but I’m a stripper not a hooker.” You sit up in your chair fully ready to leave the room.

“They would provide you with a fully furnished apartment, medical coverage with 24/7 access to their fully trained medical staff. Any cash given to you by your clients you can keep, however they would take a percentage out of the money they initially pay for your services.”

“Let’s say I’m a little interested, how much is the initial pay for my services?” You want to deny the offer, nothing wrong with having sex for money but it isn’t really your thing.

Giran doesn’t answer right away, instead putting out what is left of his cigarette only to pull another one out of his blazer and lighting it up. “The starting hourly rate is $2,500 an hour, they would take 30 percent from that.”

Holy shit, that’s as much as I make in a day and I would be making it an hour? You keep your face neutral but something in your eyes must have tipped him off.

“You would start tomorrow; most clients keep a contract with their favorite employee and we actually have someone lined up for you already. He has extremely specific tastes and you are the perfect person to fill in.”

“I’ll have to talk to the club owner; would it be possible to start later?” You don’t want to seem to eager, especially not in front of him.

“I don’t see that as a problem, they can give you one week but that’s it.”

You stay silent, making it look like you’re thinking about it. After a moment you lean forward in your chair and stick your hand out. “Sounds like a deal to me.”

Giran grabs you hand and gives it a firm shake. “If you ever need help or have any questions call the number on the card. Now I believe you were offered dinner, let me take you to one of my favorite places.”

You let his hand go and rise from the chair. As Giran comes around the desk and walks towards the door, he stops for a moment and turns to you. “Welcome to the team.”

Dinner was actually genuinely nice; the food was good, and you were able to have a comfortable conversation with Giran. Of course, he didn’t tell you anything about himself, but you had no problems with that, you didn’t wanna share anything to personal about yourself either. He dropped you back off at your car after dinner and shook your hand again before driving off.

By the time you got home you had decided what you were gonna tell the club owner and mentally packed your apartment. Not wanting to take all of your things you moved most of it to a secure storage facility. Having had it for a few years already in order to store the overabundance of clothes you owned.

After the week was up you had quit your job and packed all of your belongings. You realize you don’t know where you are supposed to go so you pull out the card and call the number.

“Hello, how can I assist you?”

“Giran never told me where I would be moving my stuff to. Could you give me the address?” You pick at your nails while waiting for him to answer.

“Of course, Miss Erised. Will you be needing any assistance for your move?”

He sounds so polite; I wonder if he is always like this.

“No, I’ll be fine on my own thank you.”

He gives you the address and let you know that you can call if you need any additional information.

“Good luck Miss Erised.”

When you get back to your apartment you immediately go into the shower and wash up, using the tea tree oil that Froppy had said she uses in an interview.

I don’t understand how people can like this stuff, but he gets easier to handle if I smell like those women.

When you are done you towel dry your hair and make sure to lotion your whole body. When your hair is dry enough you straighten it and leave it down. He likes it better when its down.

You go to your closet and rifle through until finding the very skimpy version of Froppys hero costume. All it really has in common with the original is the tan harness and the green with black and yellow stripes. Otherwise, it is a one-piece bikini without a crotch. You grab your black leather over the knee boots and get dressed. After checking the time, you give yourself a moment to mentally prepare.

I hate this, I hate him. Disgusting filthy little bug. A false hero, a plague. I can’t wait to leave this place.

Standing in the middle of your room you close your eyes and take deep breaths, allowing your consciousness to drift. You have found that the best way to endure these sessions is to detach yourself from the situation. Only focusing on the absolute necessary and maintaining the effects of your quirk. Giving yourself another minute to get into character you walk to the door joining your apartment to the “service room”.

Thankfully, he hasn’t shown up yet, you shut the door hearing the lock click into place, the door seamlessly vanishing into the wall. Sitting on the edge of the bed you face the door that Mineta will walk through and wait.

No matter how many times we do this I never lose the feeling of wanting to vomit while bathing in bleach.

When he walks in you see that he is wearing his hero costume, as atrocious as it is. He never really deviated from the original design. You immediately start your performance.

“Mineta? What am I doing here? kero” You clasp your hands together in front of your chest and look around frightfully.

“Hello Tsu, what a pleasant surprise to see you here.” He walks up, taking off his gloves and throwing them to the side.

“I don’t understand, do you know where- “Your sentence is cut off, pain in your cheek sharp and hot.

“I don’t believe I gave you permission to talk Miss thirty sixth hero.” He stands there with his hand still up as you cup your cheek and look up at him, the tears in your eyes real. He pulls his hand back again as if to slap you and you flinch.

“Good girl, now finish taking off my outfit for me.” Mineta walks back a few steps and holds his arms out. Your fingers are clumsy as you take it of piece by piece.

Mineta abruptly grabs a fist full of your hair and yanks your head back. You grab his hand with both of yours trying to ease his grip.

“Do you think if you do it slow enough, I’ll get bored and go away?” He pulls harder. “Huh? You really think you’re gonna get out of this don’t you.” He tosses you towards the bed and you scramble to get back on your feet.

The tears in your eyes have started to spill over and you start babbling. “Please let me go Mineta, I don’t know what I did but please pleasejust forgive me kero. I won’t tell anyone about this just please don’t hurt me kero.”

He doesn’t answer you, just finishes taking off his outfit before he is walking towards you again, a vicious gleam in his beady eyes.

You back up until the back of your legs hits the bed. You open your mouth to speak but before you can utter a single word, he slaps you again.

“I told you not to speak unless I told you to once already. Now I’m gonna have to punish you, aren’t I?” He shoves you onto the bed and follows, using his knees to push your legs open he sits up and gives himself a few pumps.” No need to prep you, I want this to hurt.”

You are sobbing at this point, your hands covering your face when you feel him push into you. A scream rips out of your throat and you reach forward to push him away.

“You know Tsu, these meetups have been the best. I’m thinking next time I will find the REAL you and have even more fun.” He closes his eyes a leans his head back, fully immersed in only getting himself off.

To engrossed in his own world, he doesn’t realize that you have gone still. Your tears have stopped, and you have pulled your hands back from him.

DISGUSTING

“Find the real me?”

VILE

You break character, bringing your full consciousness back. You voice is just a whisper at first, so he doesn’t hear you, doesn’t stop thrusting.

FALSE HERO

“Find the REAL me?!” You are screaming at him now.

He finally stops, hearing you the second time. For a second you see fear in his eyes before they fill with rage.

MONSTER

“Hey! You better start doing the job I paid you for, I don’t come here for you to question me.” He lifts his hand up, as if to slap you again. Before his hand comes down you grab it, squeezing until he yelps in pain.

This job is over, he isn’t worth keeping around anymore.

“You think I give a shit about a little piss ant like you?!” As you sit up, he yanks his arm away and pulls out of you. Stumbling back, he starts shaking a finger in your direction.

“You can’t talk to me like that! You’re just a whore!”

You dart forward before he can put more distance between you and grab him by the neck. As you pick him up you snarl and let your quirk fade away.

“I may be a whore but I not a monster like you. You are just a fake hero, a plague on this world and I will get rid of every single one of you.” You throw him onto the ground still holding on to his neck and squeeze.

“In other news, Minoru Mineta also known as the pro hero Grape Juice has gone missing after several videos of him have gone viral. He was last seen leaving a brothel that has requested to remain nameless. The videos contain triggering scenes of the pro hero having relations with a prostitute while she is dressed in various hero suits the resemble his old female classmates. He even refers to them by name. The videos contain triggering images, and it is recommended to not seek them out. The original videos have since been taken down but are reuploaded onto the internet on several other sites. The prostitute shown in the videos has also gone missing. Any information on the whereabouts- “

The T.V. turns off, the voice of the news anchor no longer filling the dimly lit bar. The people present remain silent for a moment before a man with burns all over his body starts to laugh.

“You could have really fucked that up Doll. Good thing we got enough evidence.” You sneer at him, making sure you change your appearance to match your own desire. He flinches when he sees his own face.

“I wish you had cut him! There wasn’t enough blood to keep his appearance up for awfully long!” The young woman with two messy blond buns in her hair twirls a knife around.

“I’m terribly sorry Toga, but I didn’t have anything sharp with me.” You pick at your nails and look over at Kurogiri, who is busy pouring a glass of whiskey for Dabi. “Do I get a break after this one or do you and boss man have another gig for me?”

[thiswasinevitableid]

93. I hire your matchmaking services but all the people you set me up with are horrible and I’m demanding a refund and you’re asking me for one more chance??? what are you going to do? be my date?

Indruck, nsfw, please!

Here you go! I was inspired by @kriskukko's incredible art for the orc designs in this, and I highly recommend checking them out!

“Indrid? Some from Kepler House is here to speak with you.” Ned pokes his head into Indrid’s rooms.

“Drat” Indrid hisses, dressing gown whipping about him as he scrambles to put the apartment in order while also dragging his notes on the man in question to the forefront, “I didn’t forsee anyone coming by today, goodness, he had his first engagement with Lady Austens daughter last night, what on earth could they need to see me for?” He tosses his spare pens aside, landing them in his second set of house slippers.

“Well, dear boy, given the luck you’ve had with them lately-”

“It’s not luck, it’s simply very unlikely futures. Please just, just stall whoever it is a moment, Leo is usually patient and-”

“I’m afraid I cannot do that my friend.”

“Why not? I watched you once talk an entire flock of constables away from your door. Praytell, why can Ned “Silver Tongue” Chicane not get rid of a single attendant?”

“Because the attendant ain’t here this time.”

Indrid slams the drawer of his desk, looking up as an orc in a deep brown suit steps into the room, tossing his hat onto the table. He’s shorter than Indrid and Ned (stout and strong, according to the notes Indrid received), wavy black hair streaked with grey at the front. One eye is blue, the other brown, and both regard the harried matchmaker with casual annoyance.

“Mr. Newton, I, ah, I was not expecting you to visit me.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t expect to be on a date where she found me so damn dull she hailed a cab as soon as dinner was done. I was already in town on some business for Minerva, so I decided to come tell you I ain’t in need of your services anymore.”

“I beg your pardon? Your benefactor employed me to find you a suitable match and I intend to do just that. I know there have been missteps, but such things are to be expected when searching for one’s lifelong partner.”

“Uh huh. And the fact I’m Lady Minerva’s chosen heir, which means there are a bunch of folks waitin to mimic my style and choices, has got nothin to do with it.”

“I, ah, I can’t say that I’m ignorant of the potential repercussions of being the one assigned to locate a spouse for you.”

“Which is the long way of sayin you know damn well that if I decide to stop askin you for help, no one with money is ever gonna come to you again.”

There’s a determined set to his rounded jaw, and a glimpse at the future suggests Indrid will have better luck with a different tactic

“....were they really so awful?”

“Yes. They were rude, or thought I was rude, or thought I was dull, or we just had fuck-all in common.”

“Have you considered you might just be a tad more demanding than average?”

“It ain’t demandin to want the person I spend the rest of my life with to actually like me.” He sighs, “I’m sorry, Mr. Cold, but unless you got a real winner up your sleeve, I’m done.”

All responses, all timelines show Duck ending his time as Indrid’s client and walking out the door.

“You could try me!”

“Really?” Duck looks deeply unconvinced.

“I will admit it’s unorthodox, but I, I foresee us having a perfectly nice time together. It will let me prove that I am capable of choosing companions for you.”

The shorter orc looks him up and down more deliberately and Indrid fights not to draw his dressing gown tighter. He will not be intimidated by some newcomer from across the sea.

“Okay, I’ll make you a deal. I got to go to this concert tomorrow; someone from Kepler house is expected to show and Minerva is busy. You’re comin with me.” He holds Indrid’s gaze, daring him to renege on his offer.

Indrid summons his best, professional grin, “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

---------------------------------------

Indrid smooths his waistcoat and jacket as he steps from the cab, tucks a strand of his silver hair behind his ear. It’s his only concession to the nerves skittering up and down his spine.

Gatherings such as these are nothing new to him; he goes to them to gather new information and new clients, to remind the well-to-do families of London and beyond that he is the matchmaker extraordinaire. But there is always the moment between when they see him and when they recognize him, when every face in the room wonders why someone like him dares to enter their space.

Somewhere in Indrid’s ancestry is a love story between an orc and a goblin. His silver hair, very angular features, and complete lack of tusks or fangs is the proof. The red eyes don’t help--they unsettle everyone who sees them--but his mother insists they’re evidence of other orcs gifted with rare magic on her side of the family. He wears red spectacles over them just to be safe; he rather likes how the color stands out against his skin, and his glasses let him avoid prying questions.

Duck is waiting for him under the awning outside the music hall; he’s in a grey day suit this time, looking just as understatedly handsome as he did yesterday morning. Indrid must admit his desire to save his reputation is not the only reason he agreed to this; he cannot understand why Duck is having such trouble meeting his match. He’s good looking, moneyed, American--an exotic background in the eyes of the average, sheltered upper-class orc--but still has family history here in England. All Indrid’s matches showed a high probability of success. The point of failure must lie with the orc himself.

“Afternoon, Mr. Cold.” Duck smiles with everything but his eyes.

“Indrid is fine, given the reason for our meeting.”

Duck nods. Indrid wishes the ground would swallow one of them up. When the pavement fails to oblige, he offers his arm. The shorter orc takes it, both of them doffing their hats as they step inside.

“I, uh, like the earring.” Duck indicates the moth cuff on Indrid’s left ear, a stark contrast to the single gold hoop in his own.

“Thank you. A friend gave it to me. I, ah, I rather enjoy working moths into my wardrobe; I find them fascinating.”

“Y’know, back home we got moths that look like hummingbirds.”

“Really?” Indrid’s ear twitches, “how big?”

Duck holds up his hands to indicate the size. Indrid is about to demand details when they’re waylaid by their hostess and pulled into a cluster of families. Indrid breathes deep, feeling crowded in, and notices Duck routinely being cut off in conversation or given disapproving looks behind his back. Yes, Indrid supposes his manners are a bit rough, but there’s no harm in that. Too, everyone seems far more interested in the goings on at Kepler House and with Lady Minerva than with Duck himself. By the time they’re seated, their arms feel locked together from shared tension.

The violinists are quite good; Indrid enjoys strings, his recordings of them being his favorite music to listen to while drawing. But his mind is so consumed by futures and by thoughts about the orc beside him that he struggles to focus on the music. Duck is having a similar issue, though he hides it well; were they not side by side, Indrid would miss the way he fidgets with the knee of his trousers.

“Are you alright?” He whispers under the applause.

“N-ye-uh. Fuck. I, the musics real nice but I gotta say I’m gettin kinda bored. But I got no fuckin clue if leavin will piss everyone here off.”

“Intermission is soon. When it comes, keep quiet and follow my lead.”

When the guests rise to stretch their legs and fetch refreshments, Indrid guides Duck to their hostess.

“I’m so very sorry, but I’m afraid my stomach is rather angry with me and it’s best if I go home. Duck has agreed to accompany me so I do not pass out in the street. I’m sure you understand.”

She nods, and in a matter of moments they’re out on the street, each breathing deeply.

“Thanks for that.”

“My pleasure.”

“Guess I oughta just head back to the hotel.” Duck sighs.

“You could. But, ah, we’re not far from Kew Gardens and the weather isn’t miserably cold for once. If you’d like-”

“Hell yeah. Wait, fuck, sorry, tryin to swear less in public.”

“I don’t really mind.” Indrid starts them down the street.

“Lots of them do” Duck tips his head back towards the concert hall, “I mean, at least that rule is easier to figure out. It’s not that there aren’t weird rules and class stuff back home, but I grew up learnin them. Here I always feel like I’m one move away from makin an ass of myself. No one’ll say anything because of Minerva, but I know if it weren’t for her, none of ‘em would give me the time of day. It makes every interaction so goddamn stressful.”

Indrid twinges with sympathy, “When I first started in these circles, I wrote myself notecards and had Ned test me on them.”

Duck giggles, so absurd and loud it draws stares from passersby, “why? You seem to know your stuff.”

“I didn’t come from money, and I don’t always read social situations the way others expect. It was learn or live as a penniless artist for all my days.” As the gardens come into view he adds, “I know the basics of your life in America but if you weren’t here, what would you be doing there?”

“Workin in the Yosemite valley. I was a ranger there for a few years before Minerva called me here.”

“What was that like?”

Duck tells him as they wander the first stretches of the gardens. He’s midway through a tangent about bears when he stops.

“Holy fuck, you’re really still listenin.”

“Of course I am, this is fascinating.”

His companion smiles, “Glad you think so. But it ain’t polite for me to dominate the conversation like this. Now you gotta tell me what you do when you’re not gettin fancy folks together.”

“...You promise you will finish the story about the bear and the tent later.”

“You know it.”

Indrid knows that time passes more quickly with good company, but he’s still startled when the sun sets. The Savoy, where Duck is staying, is closer than his home, so their cab stops there first.

Duck pauses halfway out the door, “Meet me here for dinner tomorrow?”

Indrid grins, “I’d like nothing more.”

--------------------------------

“I didn’t know the line even went this far.” Indrid watches the moors race by them out the window of the train.

“You and me both.” Duck rotates his map, glances at the letter he received a week ago, “okay, once we get off at Amnesty, we need someone to take us down Greenbank road. The house is at the end of it, somewhere around here.” He taps a patch of moor miles from anything else. Indrid studies his fingers and is glad that, of his more rugged habits, one he elected to keep was letting his nails stay claws rather than filing them down.

“My visions suggest that as long as we don’t ask anyone to drive us out after dark, we should have no trouble reaching it.”

Indrid tries not to be too giddy at the prospect of spending weeks and weeks more or less alone in the countryside with Duck. They’re going because an anonymous note informed him that he did indeed have a family estate and--once they determined that the house near Dartmoor did indeed legally belong to him--it was decided he would go to see how the old place was doing and perhaps take up residence.

He asked Indrid to come without even glancing up from the telegram from the solicitor. Indrid agreed without looking away from his drawing. If two months of semi-courtship in a crowded city got them close enough for that, Indrid dares to hope that being out here together will bring them closer still.

Amnesty is small, as they both expected, the air chilly and fog threatening to swallow whole buildings as they make their way to the Lodge where they’ve been told they can find a driver. When Duck asks the young woman working the counter for help getting to Greenbank Hall, she quirks her lips in a frown.

“I’m not sure there’s even a place called that around here….OH! Do you mean Beacon House?”

“Maybe?” Duck looks at Indrid, who quickly looks at the futures.

“Yes, it seems we do.”

“Okay. Since it's still light, I should be able to find someone to get you out there. If it comes down to it, I can, like, drive you out myself.”

They end up being driven by a friendly young man named Jake, who deposits them and their bags on the steps of the massive house with a friendly wave farewell.

“Agh” Indrid shivers as they step through the newly unlocked doors, “I think it’s actually warmer outside.”

“No kiddin. Damn fog means it’s already gettin too dark to see too. I’ll go get some kind of fire started, you see if you can find some lanterns or candles so we ain’t trippin all over ourselves.”

Indrid begins his search, comes to the kitchen and finds some matches and a candle. The solicitor arranged for food and other supplies to be brought in ahead of time, so in theory lanterns should be somewhere nearby. He’s just glad that the paltry light shows no signs of rodents getting into their food.

When he gets upstairs, he discovers two things; one, all the lamps are gas, so he’s able to light them easily. And two, a mother tortoiseshell cat is nesting with her kittens on a guest bed.

“Well, that explains the lack of mice.”

Footsteps behind him, “Got a fire goin in the sittin room, if you wanna pick a room for yourself I can light one th--awwwww” Duck moves past him towards the cat, who hisses at him, “now, there ain’t any need for that, missy. I ain’t gonna hurt you or your babies. But we oughta bring you somethin more’n mice to eat.”

“I saw some tinned food in the pantry.”

“Perfect, lemme go find a bowl.”

----------------------------------

Beacon House has seen better days, but Indrid discovers the houses loss is his gain. Duck decides they can do many of the repairs themselves, and sets about ordering supplies from London or bringing them in from Amnesty. The few times they need help, the cook and several others from the Lodge come to assist in the project. These gatherings are far more pleasant than any Indrid had to attend for work (well, except for the ones where he was with Duck). And they always end before dusk.

Indrid occupies himself with figuring out why. There was no mention of this house when he first researched Duck, and even using the local name turns up very little. It’s not until he finds a diary belonging to one H. Newton in the library that he understands.

October the 15th, 1805

I fear the worst is upon me. I cannot leave the house, dare not even peer out the windows for fear of what I shall see. Lucy says it is my health, that we should travel to warmer regions so it will improve. But I know it is not so simple. Were we to flee, it would merely wait for our return. It may even waylay us before we reached town. I am cursed. We are cursed. We always will be.

Beneath the words is a hastily sketched image; yellow eyes and sharp fangs peering from between the bars of the front gate.

There are no more entries.

Indrid is unsure whether to raise the matter with Duck. On the one hand, he wishes him to know of any possible dangers. On the other, his friend is so very content these days, coming in from some project or other with grime on his skin and a smile on his face. Indrid’s own desire to stay with him here, in a house he can pretend is theirs, threatens to drown out all other reasons.

Eventually, his conscience shouts it down while he and Duck are on their evening walk.

“Oh yeah, Barclay told me about that a few days ago. Some ghost apparently wanders around the moor at night; got somethin to do with a murderous ancestor.”

“That does not alarm you.”

“You know I don’t believe in curses and destiny or anythin like that. People make up all kinds of stories when they’re alone in wild places.”

Indrid’s foresight guides his arm, gripping Duck and keeping him from moving forward.

“Does that look like a story?”

Directly ahead of them, a tor rises like a spike. Atop it, revealed by the rising moon, is a gigantic, fur-covered shape.

“See” Duck whispers, “were we back home, I’d say that was a bear.”

“And now?”

“Given there ain’t been bears in this part of the world in decades, I say we get the hell outta here.”

They take off back down the slope, the hall a collection of yellow squares of light in the darkening distance. A howl splits the air behind them and Indrid quickens his pace, keeps his eyes on the future in hopes of protecting them both.

This means he doesn’t see the burrow in the path until his ankle goes sideways in it.

“‘Drid!”

“Under no circumstances are you to try and help meAH!” He yelps as Duck swings him over his shoulder and continues his flight towards the house. As he’s bounced about, Indrid watches a glowing shape bounding closer.

“Thank fuck.” Duck crosses the gate, slams them closed, and lowers Indrid to his feet. Nothing glares at them from the path. But a growl creeps from the shadows and follows them until they shut the door.

------------------------------------------

“How’s the ankle?” Duck drops his coat on the chair opposite Indrid before tending to the fire.

“Better than yesterday. I should be up and moving tomorrow, if the futures are to be believed.”

“You know you don’t gotta rush. I’m happy to take care of you.”

Indrid picks at the ends of the blanket in his lap, “but I miss being able to aid you with work.”

“There’ll be lots of time for that. We got plenty to do to get the house to where we can live in it full time.”

“We?”

Duck goes completely still, then fails to put the fire poker back in place three separate times. When he finally meets Indrid’s eyes, he looks worried.

“‘Drid? What’s your endgame? With, uh, with me?”

“I…” Indrid grabs his teacup, intending to drink it to buy time and finds it empty, ‘I...I don’t know. I, I wanted to prove to you that I could find you a companion who made you happy, hoping you would give me another chance to locate your perfect match. But lately I, ah, I struggle to see that plan working. As I do not wish you to have any match but me.”

Duck moves across the rug, shadows on his face making it hard to read.

“I know that shows great selfishness on my part. If that is not something you wish to have in your life I, I…” he shrinks back as Duck leans down, certain this is the timeline where he accuses him of being a conniving monster.

“Funny you should say you’re bein selfish” Duck braces his arms on either side of the chair, “because I’ve been beatin myself thinkin’ I was selfish for keepin you out here so long.”

“Keep me here forever.” Indrid whispers. Duck smiles, closes the remaining space between them. His lips are still a bit chilly from working outside; Indrid does everything he can to warm them with his own.

The shorter orc straddles him and he whines so needily that Duck snickers in reply.

“What’s wrong darlin? Kissin too much for you?’

“On the contrary; it is far too little, but my injury means my ability to drag you to my bed and beg for more is greatly impeded.”

“Good thing we live alone.” Duck pulls the blanket from Indrid’s lap, nibbles his ear as the seer catches on and begins frantically undoing the buttons of Duck’s workshirt and shoving his suspenders. When at last he pushes it open he loses himself a moment, tipping forward to tongue at the golden ring in Duck’s left nipple.

“AHheh, gettin right to it. Good” Duck unbuttons his pants, “because I’ve been wantin to fuck you since before we even came out here.”

“Oh I see” Indrid purrs, “you lured me into the countryside to sully my virtue.”

Duck laughs, full throated, as his tusks catch in the firelight, “You forgettin the time we got drunk instead of goin to the opera and you told me you convinced two sailors to take you home?”

“Only if you’ve forgotten telling me about the young ranch-hand you gave several rides to” Indrid nibbles along his neck, his twitching oddly in their quest to grind against him without jostling his ankle.

“Not a chance. But I don’t care about reminiscin right now; right now, I got the best lookin fella in the world beggin for my dick.”

“I’m not begging.” Indrid tilts his head back to help Duck get his shirt open some.

“Not yet.” Duck grins, then shoves his hand down his trousers.

“Ohhhhhyes” Indrid reaches for him.

“Keep your hands on the armrests until I say you can move ‘em.”

“But, but” it’s hard to argue when he’s trying to stare a hole through Duck’s remaining clothes. His partner notices and makes a show of moaning louder.

“Only good boys get to watch the show. You gonna be good for me?”

“The best.”

Duck kisses the tip of his nose, then wiggles and kicks his pants and underwear off. Indrid can only watch, growing more envious by the moment, as he fucks himself open and rubs a thumb along his cock. Indrid tries bucking his hips, only to discover Duck is keeping himself out of reach.

“Cruel creature.” Indrid groans.

“Cruel? I’m giving you a seat to the best show in town.”

“I’d rather you take the best seat in town.”

Duck laughs, is still doing so when he bends to kiss him. Indrid whimpers, nails digging into the upholstery to keep his promise of good behavior. Duck notices.

“Good boy.”

“AHHHnnnthankyou, thankyouthankyouthankyou” Indrid moans as Duck drops his weight into his lap, grinding on his clothed cock with abandon. He flings Indrids hands up to his shoulders. The seer glides them up to his hair, burying them there where he’s now certain they’ve always belonged. Duck mirrors him, lips only leaving his to bite the tip of his ear.

“Fuck, Indrid, that’s it darlin, lemme ride you like the sleek little beast you are.”

He whines, loses his thoughts as Ducks hips quicken.

“I know ‘Drid, you like bein mine, like that I’ll bounce on this fuckin perfect dick as often as you want as long as you’re my good, sweet, ohsweetfuck, fuck, darlin’” Duck drops his forehead to Indrid’s shoulder with a groan as he cums, soaking the fabric of his pants. Before Indrid can think about stopping, Duck picks up again with as much force as before, growling in his ear to be a good little social climber and cum for his lord.

Indrid cums at that with a chirping sound he thought he’d stopped making long ago, legs spasming from the force of his climax. Unfortunately, this means his pleasure is chased by a burst of pain. He whimpers, flinches, and Duck spots the problem.

“Oh, oh darlin I’m sorry” He drops to the floor, rubbing Indrid’s thighs, “thought the position would keep you from hurtin.”

“Apparently not. I, I want you to know I don’t regret it in the slightest.”

Duck smiles, relieved, and rests his head on Indrid’s stomach, “Guess you did find me a match, huh?”

Indrid bends slowly, nuzzling his hair with a hum, “Yes, I believe so.”

[moony-marvuders]

monster [ professor!lupin x hufflepuff!reader]

1/?

intro

y/n l/n, a spectacularly odd, and scared witch, with gifted abilities, is now orphaned upon the murder of her Mother and Father, and has come to live with her Godfather, Rubeus Hagrid. Despite her lack of knowledge, and never being properly trained, Dumbledore feels as though she has a right to be taught, just the same as anyone else/

pairing : professor! lupin x hufflepuff!reader

warnings: age gap, trauma, Orphaned Reader, female pronouns,  insinuation of death and violence, student/teacher relationship.  

- Reader is written as 18 in the timeline, and isn’t underage, there for there’s no reason to get dramatic about the pairing. There is also no insinuation of s*xual relations (only romantic) as I myself am asexual, and that would be taking this type of pairing a bit too far. Secondly, timeline is a little confusing, the reader is infact taking year 3 classes, and you will find out why as you read forward. Anyway, if you don’t enjoy, the content, simply ignore it.

( And if you would like a second part, request. request. request.)

-

The sky begins to darken above as you and Hagrid walked back to the castle grounds from Hogsmeade Village. The air cooling around you, with a whisk of the autumn wind. Your Godfather, leading you through the castle grounds, and around the lake, to where your new home would be. It’s painfully quiet, as the students wouldn’t arrive until tomorrow, not something that neither of you particularly enjoy. The sound of silence. 

“ Yer new home is right around ere” He points as you approach to a painfully small hut. It’s made of old stone, it looks warned down, almost ancient, as if it was going to fall apart.  You’re surprised at the sight, it looking from the outside to be too small for a man of your Godfathers size. Though this was Hogwarts, anything was seemingly possible. “It’s lovely.” You halfly lie, only thankful to have a home to call your own, after everything that’s happened, you still had somewhere to go, only some dream to have just as much, if not less than that. 

It had been years since you had been on these grounds and seen your Godfather. Years since you were meant to go to Hogwarts, and fulfill your magical destiny, but everything had been ruined. Your family gone, your childhood taken away, along with most of your happiest memories. 

He opens the wooden door, revealing a cozy home within. You know you had been here before, long ago, but the memory was gone, any recollection of it belongs to the overwhelming sadness deep within you, the memories of what happened to your parents holding a tight grip  around your heart.  You stood still within the doorway as Hagrid, walked inside. He turned back around, halting the haunting thoughts. 

“ Are yeh comin’ in? Yer lettin’ in a draft!” And with that, your new life began. 

- 

“ So I’m going to be the first there?” You questioned, gathering all you needed, to stay at the dorms. Despite having Hagrid’s to live at, he and Dumbledore suggested it would be useful to stay within a dorm, to gather the real experience of Hogwarts. But you thought it to be a way around telling anybody you were in fact Hagrid’s God Daughter, perhaps they didn’t want anybody thinking oddly of you.

“ Yeh, but it won’t be long before there ere”  You sighed, walking among the front doors.  

Only time could tell when they would be here, and when you would have to be sorted. Flashbacks to your Father and Mother crossed your mind, the two of them being an odd pair of lovers at that, considering the houses they had been sorted into.

Your Mother was a cunning Slytherin, filled with power and a strive for greatness, though despite her temperament, she was the nicest woman some had ever met, she was unnaturally kind for such a reputation, but only to those whom she really could trust, one of the people being your Father. Your Father was just as filled with power as she, only he was more selfless, more brave. A Gryffindor in his truest right. Despite their differences, and the wedge between them of Pureblood and Muggleborn magic, they seemed to defy all odds when together. Truly a mystery. 

-

The great hall was huge, candles floating amongst the numerous house tables, all filled with empty cutlery and plates. Your Father had spoken of this moment numerous of times, what it would look like, how it would happen. But now that you were here, the spark of what once was hope and magic was washed out, dimming the more you thought of it. You couldn’t picture your Father’s smile anymore when thinking of him talking with so much joy, only flashes of horrendous memories, that of a wooded forest, and blood, lots of blood, pooling around your feet. 

You felt a firm hand on your back, causing you to jump to turn around, greeted with the familiar face of Dumbledore, whom had been the person to bring you here, from your parents home. You smiled, warmly at the wise and kind man in front of you, “Excited?” He asked, as the other Professors walked along the middle, going to grab their respective seats before the sorting ceremony and feast. “ Excited, but more nervous if anything Headmaster. “ You chew on the inside of your cheek. You would probably be the only Seventh year to be sorted, the only Seventh year to not be in any of the same classes as the rest of your year. It was all so humiliating, and yet you still had some hope, an ounce of faith and true gratitude that you were even aloud among the school.

“ Nothing to be scared of dear y/n. This is the right place for you.” You couldn’t help to hold your trust within his voice, as you watched him give you another warm smile, before heading to the front table, joining the rest of the staff. 

You stood at the back of the room, awaiting for the first years to arrive last. Not wanting to walk with them, too scared you’d be judged and ridiculed for being the oldest to be sorted. Your parents had bravery, so much of it to spare, and yet you didn’t feel an ounce of bravery, perhaps ever. You weren’t brave now, and you weren’t brave when they had been killed. Perhaps the sorting hat wouldn’t know what to do with you and they would have to throw you out, you thought. You weren’t brave or cunning like your Mother and Father, nor smart like a Ravenclaw. Perhaps a Hufflepuff, but you weren’t overjoyed with happiness, always smiling at everybody either. You felt like you were nothing. The girl who had to sit there, and watch the two people she loved the most die, and just let them, out of fear. Why had you been accepted into Hogwarts if you were simply; 

        nothing. 

-

As everybody settled in to The Great Hall, Dumbledore stood above everyone within the room. Describing how the Sorting Hat would work, and that when You had been sorted, to go to your assigned table. 

“ Now!” He spoke loudly, “ Before we begin with the first years. We have a certain Seventh Year who needs sorting! y/n y/l/n?!” He called out for you, eyes across the hall, looking for whom he must be talking to. He called again and before you could process it fully, you began walking up to the front, and through the crowd of new students.

You sat down with hesitation within the chair, eyes closed as you did so, too scared to look into the eyes of your peers. The hat was lowered upon your head gently. It began to speak to you, as if it had been a person, knowing every little detail within your head. 

“ Interesting, very interesting. You’re a bit confusing aye? Your Mother was a Slytherin, correct? Your Father though.,,.he was a Gryffindor? What an odd pairing.. hmmm... But you... you don’t have these qualities- you’re different. A bit odd, not quite academic, but knowledge lies within your heart. There’s something strong about you- You’re loyal, patient, un-judgemental- you seek no power, only a sense of justice, and of love.. Yes I see it now... HUFFLEPUFF!!!” 

In that moment you couldn’t help but wear a small smile, and open your eyes, watching as the Hufflepuff table greated you with graceful, happy cheers.

-

After the sorting, and after everyone had sat within their respective seats, Dumbledore rose once again to the front, before the feast was to begin.

“Welcome! Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. Now, I'd like to say a few words... before we all become too befuddled by our excellent feast. First, I'm pleased to welcome Professor R.J. Lupin....who's kindly consented to fill the post... of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Good luck, Professor.”

A Professor stood to his feet humbly, barely standing straight, almost being overwhelmed with the clapping the was brought by the mentioning of him. You couldn’t help but to notice, the long scars amongst his face, some of them quite fresh, some scarred so deep, that they would never leave. You couldn’t help but think to yourself whom had hurt him, or specifically what. If he knew anything about The Dark Arts, he must have encountered dangerous things quite often.

He softly bowed, his hands clasped together, before sitting back down within his seat. Your eyes rarely left where he had sat, still pondering within thought.

-

( I hope you enjoyed this first part of this fic! If there’s anything specific you want to see, or perhaps any ideas for this, I’m always open to criticism and creative help! Also request anything you would like within my inbox, I adore requests.)

[atlafan]

Take it Slow - Part Fifty-Seven

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

Warnings: Smut and Fluff.

Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)

As promised, Wednesday after work, you and Harry went to the tattoo parlor so you could get your nose pierced. You picked out a white gold stud, and picked out a few hoops you’d want to interchange with once you could.

“This one is so cool, it has diamonds on it. It could be for like special occasions.”

Harry couldn’t wait to see you with the hoop once it was time. He was already parched just thinking about it. You grabbed some thinner hoops for work as well. He watches you look over the naval piercings. He points to a few he likes and you grab one of them. Your name gets called and you go to sit in the chair.

“Which side?”

“Left, please.”

“And you’re doing this so you can have a hoop later, right?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, so I’ll do it a little lower down. Now, don’t twist this like you would an ear piercing. You need to let this be so it can heal properly.”

“Okay.” You reach out for Harry’s hand as the man cleans up your nose. You close your eyes, and Harry almost thinks to take your picture because he think you look so cute.

“Okay, here we go.”

You grit your teeth and white knuckle Harry’s hand. He places his other hand on your shoulder.

“Son of a bitch!” You yelp as the needle goes into your nose.

“Almost done.” The man reassures you.

Your nostril felt numb, but you were happy with it when he showed it to you in the mirror.

“Looks great, love.”

“Alright, Harry, you ready?”

“Yup.” He hands him a piece of paper from his pocket. “I’d like that on my forearm, where there’s space.”

Harry sits down in a chair as the man cleans up his arm. You sit next him.

“What are you getting?”

Before Harry can answer, the man puts a piece of paper over where Harry wants it and peels it back. You see a very small, very detailed sunflower.

“A sunflower, for my sunflower.” He winks at you.

“Oh, Harry…are you sure?”

“Positive. Will yeh hold my hand?” He smiles.

“Don’t make fun of me.” You pout. “It really hurt.”

“I know baby.” He puts his hand out to you as the man gets to work. You’re amazed that Harry doesn’t even flinch, but he had so many he could hardly feel it anymore.

Thirty or so minutes later it was done. You take a picture of it for him before the man bandages it up. You each pay separately for your things and head out.

“So my nose really looks good?”

“Yup, can’t wait to see the hoop in it though.”

“Six to eight weeks.” You smile. “I can’t believe you got my favorite flower tattooed on you, that was so sweet.”

“S’not weird?”

“Not at all! It’s so special, like, something for the two of us.” He takes your hand in his and kisses it.

//

Harry had confirmed your double date with Rachel and Mariah. The four of you agreed on a trivia night at a local bar. You all meet there Friday night after work. It was a little weird for Harry to be hanging out with someone outside of work, but he got on with Mariah pretty well, so it wasn’t totally awkward.

You and Rachel told stories from college, and Mariah talked about getting into photography. Rachel explains why she wanted to be a high school art teacher.

“I just think kids that age lose a lot of the fun in their lives. Art is important at any age, but when they’re getting ready to go to college, I wanna help them destress with my classes.”

“That’s so cool.” Mariah says and Rachel blushes.

“Mariah, what was it like when you and Harry first met?” You were a tad tipsy.

“Oh god, I was terrified of him.” She laughs and his jaw drops. “But then when he shook my hand and I saw the bright pink color on his nails, I knew wasn’t so scary.” She giggles. “I’ll never forget, after the first two weeks, he comes over to me and he says, ‘I think you’re the only person here other than myself that isn’t a blithering idiot’.” Everyone at the table laughs at her impression of him. It was pretty good.

“I was right though.”

“Very true. God, it’s so annoying when someone else tries to set up a shot for you, isn’t it? Like hello, I have a vision.”

“Exactly! If it was as easy as just snappin’ away, anyone would do it.”

“So was everyone scared of Harry?” Rachel asks.

“I think they were mostly intimidated. Everyone talks to each other and gets together, but H always stuck to himself.”

“Not the type of people I wanted to be chummy with.” He has a disgusted look on his face, thinking of Mykenzie. “I quite like Isaac though, he’s been a good addition.”

“Love Isaac, he always gets us everything we need.”

“He’s always so nice when I come to visit.” You say.

“He’s got a huge crush on Harry.” Mariah giggles.

“Stop it.” Harry says groaning.

“You know he does.”

“Thought he just thought I was cute or somethin’. Didn’t think it was a crush.”

“Well, I’ve never asked him personally, so he could easily just be attracted to you. I’ve heard him talk about it with Julia and Dana.” The sound of Julia’s name makes you want to vomit.

“Jesus, Harry, does everyone at your work have a thing for you?” Rachel asks.

“Everyone except this one.” He winks and nods towards Mariah, making both girls giggle.

Trivia starts and you all pick a stupid team name. You and Rachel were best at coming up with answers. You both knew a lot about pop culture, and luckily there weren’t too many other categories.

“How the fuck did yeh know that?” Was something Harry said quite a bit, and you both just shrugged your shoulders.

“Which Kardashian married an NBA player after dating for thirty days?” The emcee asks.

“Oh that was Khloe.” You tell Rachel to write down. Harry’s jaw drops. “What?”

“You’re obsessed with reality television!”

“Not true! I used to watch Keeping Up when I was in college. It was night to have on in the background when I’d do homework. It’s not a show you have to pay attention to.”

“What was the name of season twenty Bachelor?”

“Ben Higgins.” You, Rachel, and Mariah all say at the same time.

“Jesus Christ.”

“You watch the Bachelor?” Rachel asks her.

“Never miss an episode. You watch?”

“Yeah, we should get together to watch some time.”

“I’d like that.” They smile at each other. You put your hand on Harry’s leg and give it a little squeeze.

“What did Leonardo DiCaprio text back to Jennifer Lopez after James Corden texted him from her phone back in 2016?”

“Who the fuck would know-“

“You mean tonight boo boo? Club wise?” You say as Rachel nods and writes it down. You look at Harry whose mouth was hanging wide open. “Do you not watch carpool karaoke ever?”

“Can’t say I do, love.”

“You’re missing out.” You giggle.

“Do you still have that picture of Leo with that quote over his like serious face and it’s in black and white?”

“I do! It’s in a drawer in my office. Makes me laugh when I look at it.”

You were quirky, and Harry rarely got to see these little things come out. He liked it, a lot. You were sort of nerdy in your own right and he thought it was insanely cute.

Your group came in third place, earning you each a coupon for a free app the next time you came to the bar. You all say goodnight, and confirm what time with Rachel you should be over tomorrow to get ready.

//

Your hair was up in messy bun and you had sweats on before you left for Sarah and Rachel’s. You bring your large overnight bag out to the front hall, and go up to the loft to say goodbye to Harry.

“Any plans tonight, baby?”

“Yeah, Niall’s comin’ over. Think we’re goin’ to play Madden.”

“Oh great!”

“That’s what you’re wearin’ for your big night out?”

“God no, I’m getting ready with them. Like old times. We pregame a little while doing each other’s hair and make up. We decide on outfits, all that girly stuff.”

“So I don’t even get to see what you’re wearin’ out before you go?” He pouts and puts his hands on your hips as you stand between his legs.

“’Fraid not.” You lean in and kiss his forehead. “I’ll send you a pic though.” You kiss him on the lips. “Have fun with Niall.”

“Have fun with the girls.”

He watches you descend down the stairs. He was very curious to know what you might be wearing. He hoped it wasn’t too sexy since he wouldn’t be there. The thought of a bunch people looking at you didn’t sit right with him, but it was out of his control. He also hated that you wouldn’t be coming back to him tonight. He wanted your drunk cuddles, they were the best.

You drive to Rachel and Sarah’s and hug Sarah and wish her a happy birthday. You all start drinking and get ready. You each take turns posting to your Instagram stories. Giggles and music in the background.

Niall comes over to see Harry, and they both get set up on the sofa.

“How was your date last night?” Harry asks.

“Made her cry tears of joy, finally gave her a key to my place.”

“Good for you mate!” Harry smiles at him. Niall checks his phone and looks at all three of your stories. “What in the fuck was that?”

“Our girls havin’ a grand ol’ time. Look.” Niall shows him Sarah’s story and sees you with your hair half done, curling iron in hand, making a kiss face as Rachel dances behind you. “Like they never stopped livin’ together.” He chuckles.

“Any idea where they’re goin’?”

“Pinz I think.”

//

“Okay, what am I wearing?” Sarah asks.

“We got you this sash that says ‘birthday bitch’ so you have to wear it.” Rachel giggles.

“Guess that means I should wear my red dress to match, huh?” She snatches it. “What did you bring, Y/N?”

“Oh, just my fav party outfit.” You grin. You take out a skin tight quarter sleeve, olive green, midi dress.

“Ohhh shiiiittt.” Rachel says. “She back in town.”

“For one night only.” You wink.

Sarah puts on a short sleeve red dress that flowed around her thighs. Rachel put on a black pencil skirt and white crop top. You all looked great. None of you wore a bra, purposefully, to just make out all of your piercings. You set up your phone to take a few pictures of the three of you. The three of you were feeling sexy, and you were ready to show Sarah a good time.

“Wait, I told Harry I’d send him a picture.”

“Better send one to Niall too.”

“Okay, line up you heteros.” Rachel says sarcastically. You both stick your tongue out at her.

“Y/N, push your boobs up, really put a show on for him.” She giggles.

“Okay, like this?” You push your boobs up and pout your lips.

“Model! Model vibes!” Sarah screams as she takes a shot of tequila.

“Okay, now turn around and look over your shoulder. Gotta show that booty.” You do as she says.

“He’s gonna kill me.” You laugh.

“Why?”

“Because not only am I not wearing a bra, but I don’t have any panties on either.”

“Well, duh, you can’t with that dress.” Sarah defends you. “Okay, my turn.”

You and Rachel snap pictures of the birthday girl. You both send the pictures to your boyfriends. You take some more silly pictures altogether.

“You know what’s crazy? This is my first birthday without Kate in years…”

“Are you upset we didn’t invite her?” Rachel asks.

“Not really.” She shrugs. “I haven’t really missed her to tell you the truth.”

“Me neither.” You admit. “I miss the old times, but I’ve been less stressed without her in my life.”

“Agreed.” Rachel says. “Uber’s here! Let’s hit it.”

//

Niall and Harry’s phones go off at the same time. They look at each other and pause their game.

“Jesus.” Harry’s eyes pop out of his head.

“Holy hell.” Niall says looking at the pictures Sarah sent him.

Harry zooms in on the pictures best he can. You looked incredible. He wanted to tear the dress right off you.

“Mate?” Harry says with his mouth hanging open.

“Yeah?”

“She’s not wearin’ any knickers…”

“Doesn’t look like Sarah’s got a bra on either.”

“Same with Y/N…why would they do that?” Harry looks at him panicked. “I mean, look, not even any knickers!” He shoves the phone his face, but Niall pushes it back.

“Do ya really want me lookin’ at her arse?”

“Right, no, I don’t. And I don’t want anyone else to either. Why would she do this t’me?” He whines.

“To remind ya how fuckin’ lucky ya are.” Niall gets up. “Come on, we better break into the liquor instead of just beer tonight.”

“Good idea.”

//

The three of you get to Pinz, and Sarah is given a free shot and drink of her choice as the bartender sees her sash and ID. You all head to the dance floor once you have your drinks. The music was good tonight, really good. You were all laughing and singing, adding more to your Instagram stories. Niall and Harry couldn’t help but keep refreshing their feeds to see what the three of you were up to.

“They’re havin’ a lot of fun…” Harry says.

“Fuck girl’s nights. We should be allowed to show up.” Niall slurs.

“Even to just roll up and have a shag in the bathroom quick, then I’d be good.”

“Exactly! S’not askin’ too much.” He sighs. “But we can’t. I was told specifically not to show up.”

“Bullshit is what it is.” Harry slurs. How much did they drink?

You go up to the bar to grab the next round of drinks. You bump into someone by accident and apologize.

“Oh, no worries…Y/N?”

“Matt?!” You cross your arms over your chest immediately.

“Hey!”

“Hi, um, how are you?”

“Good! It’s great to see you.”

“Yeah, you too. How are things with school?”

“Good, new semester. Miss working with you all.”

“We miss you too.” You walk up closer to the bar. You lower your hands and flip your hair slightly to get the bartender’s attention.

“Whatya have gorgeous?”

“Three vodka cranberries please.” You push your boobs closer together.

“Got a tab?”

“Nah.”

“Alright, that’ll be ten bucks.”

“But that’s only-“

“Know it’s your friend’s birthday over there.” He winks at you, and you put a ten dollar bill and a couple of singles down on the bar while he makes the drinks. Matt was in awe of you.

“Come here a lot?” You ask him.

“A little yeah. We came here for my birthday like you suggested, so we come out when we can. Guys! This is Y/N!” A few of his friends look at you and their faces flush, they wave hello and you wave back.

“Alright, here ya go.” You hear the bartender say.

“Thanks so much!” You say taking the drinks.

“Get off at two by the way.” You blush and smile at him. “Just a girl’s night, but thanks.” He nods in understanding.

“Well, it was good seeing you. Have fun!” Matt and the bartender watch you walk away.

Rachel and Sarah each take a drink from you. You notice a napkin stuck to yours.

“Oh god!”

“What?” They both ask.

“The bartender gave me his phone number! What should I do? Just throw it out right??”

“Toss it on the floor!” Rachel says. And you do just that. You didn’t want to risk Harry finding anything like that.

The three of you continue to dance and pop your asses to the songs the club was playing. It was a really great time. You each have another round of vodka cranberries, courtesy of Rachel. Harry hadn’t texted you more than a kissy face since you sent him the pictures. You take out your phone and send him a drunk text.

You: having fun w ni?

Harry smirks when he sees it.

Harry: mhm, having fun with the girlies?

You: so much fun!! Miss u

Harry: miss you too baby

You: ur a cutie

Harry had a dopey smile on his face and Niall starts laughing.

“Oi, what’s so fuckin’ funny?”

“You’re so gaga over her.” He shakes his head.

“S’not a bad thing.” He pouts.

“Not at all.”

The three of you laugh and sing and are actually quite annoying in the back of the uber on the way back to Rachel and Sarah’s. The three of you set up camp in the living room with air-mattresses, blankets and pillows. Sarah uses the bathroom first to wash her face and change. You sit down and your head feels heavy. You decide to FaceTime Harry, Rachel sits next to you to get in on it.

“Oh check it out, she’s FaceTimin’ me.” He says to Niall. The two had just started a movie. “Hello?”

“Hey!”

“Hi Harry!”

“Hi girls.”

“Where’s my girl?” Niall pouts.

“Birthday girl got first dibs on the bathroom.” You explain. “Whatcha up to?”

“We just started a movie, love.”

“Ohhhh, fun. We’re gonna do that too, just waiting to wash our faces.”

“How was the bar?”

“So much fun! We danced the whole time.”

“I’ll bet. Any guys try to give yeh their number?” He jokes. Your face and Rachel’s lose all color. You both look at each other and laugh nervously. “Wait, did a guy actually try to give you their number?”

“Um…just the bartender.” Harry’s eyebrows raise. “But I didn’t even realize it! He had put a napkin with our drinks and I noticed it. I threw it right on the ground!”

“Why did he give it to you though?”

“Y/N only paid ten buck for the drinks.” Sarah giggles, sitting down with them, only in a large t-shirt. “Oh, hi Niall!”

“Hey baby!”

“You only had to pay ten dollars for three drinks?”

“Mhm.” Your face grows red. Rachel starts giggling. “Stop, you’re not helping.”

“What did you do? Why’d he discount it?”

“He said he knew it was Sarah’s birthday.” You shrug. You burst out laughing. “And I may have pushed my boobs up.” The other two start laughing.

“Y/N, that’s not fu-“

“You know what, I really need to pee. You know how I am when I really need to pee, Harry. I love you, have a fun rest of your night!” You end the call and get up to use the bathroom.

Harry pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

“You cannot get mad at her, mate.”

“Why not?”

“Because she’s drunk, clearly. She doesn’t know what she’s sayin’.”

“She purposefully showed off to get a discounted drinks!”

“Like you’ve never done the same thing.”

“Not while I was datin’ someone…”

“Oh Harry.” Niall shakes his head. “Please don’t make this a big deal. If I was a woman that looked like her, like any of ‘em, I’d do the same thing. Relationship or not. Don’t spoil her fun.”

“M’not.” He sighs. “You wouldn’t be mad if Sarah told you somethin’ like that.”

“It’s her birthday, she can do whatever she wants.” He shrugs.

Niall and Harry pass out on the couch, and they both wake up around three in the morning. Niall leaves and goes back home across the street while Harry sleeps in his bed alone. He imagines how lonely it must’ve been for you while he was away. He sleeps in the middle of the bed so it doesn’t feel so large without you.

//

You and the girls stay up until nearly five in the morning. You watch old movies and reminisce on your days in school together. You all pass out snuggled up together like old times. Harry woke up around eleven and you still weren’t home. No texts or anything from you. He sighs, and gets up to make some coffee. Just as he’s walking out to the kitchen, only in his boxers, he here’s your footsteps. He stands leaning against the wall of the outside of the kitchen, arms crossed waiting for you to enter.

Your hair was up in a messy bun, your sweat pants were hanging low on your hips, your dress from last night was rolled up to look like a shirt, and you had your sunglasses on. You drop your bag once you get into the living area, and you jump when you see Harry.

“Christ.” You say, pulling your sunglasses up on the top of your head.

“Fun night?”

“Mhm.” He starts chuckling. “What?”

“What are you wearin’?”

“I woke up sweaty and didn’t wanna wear my shirt home, so I put this back on, and these are your sweatpants, so they’re baggy, and I know I look ridiculous okay?” You walk towards him and go into the kitchen. He follows you. “Need coffee.” You go over to the Keurig.

“Do you remember FaceTimin’ me last night?” He asks with his arms still crossed. Yes.

“Vaguely.” You press the button on the machine after putting your favorite mug underneath.

“Do yeh remember sending me those pictures at the beginning of the night?”

“Course I do.” You turn to look at him. “I looked like a fucking stunner.” He looks down and sees your pebbling nipples through the top of your dress. You cross your arms over yourself.

“So happy everyone got to see your nips last night.”

“No one saw anything. It was dark in the club.”

“You didn’t have any knickers on.”

“And how would you know that? Easily could’ve been wearing a thong.”

“Were you?”

“No.” He lets out an exasperated sigh. “You can’t wear underwear with this dress, it shows everything.”

“Why would you wear it then?”

“Because I felt like it.” The coffee finishes pouring. You go over to the fridge and grab your creamer, and pour a little in. You bring the mug to your lips and take a small sip. You sigh happily. Harry begins making his own coffee. “Did you and Niall have fun?”

“Yes.” He narrows his eyes at you.

“What?”

“Nothin’.” He takes a sip of his black coffee. “Yeh hungover?”

“No, stomach just feels gross. We drank vodka cranberries all night. Way too much sugar.”

“Need breakie?”

“No.” You giggle. “Thanks, we ate. We had some hash-browns and cheesy eggs, that’s why I’m just getting back now.” You finish up your coffee and put your mug in the sink. You yawn and stretch. “I feel like I need to sleep for like ten years.”

You leave the kitchen and start taking your clothes off as you make your way to the bedroom. You were desperate a shower. But Harry was more desperate for you. You feel him wrap his arms around you from behind. You had only taken your top off.

“You’re still not wearin’ knickers.” He says into your ear.

“Nope.” You press back against him, and you feel him growing hard.

“I missed you last night.” He whispers while nipping at your earlobe. You turn around and wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your bare chest to his.

“And I bet you missed more seeing me dressed like that?” Your nose brushes against his as he nods. “My poor baby.” You rest your chin on his shoulder as you hug him closer to you. “Let me take a shower, and then I promise I’ll love on you all day.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” You kiss him on the cheek and let go of him.

“I can’t shower with you?” He pouts.

“I need to, like, shave and stuff. Just ten minutes, get cozy and wait for me on the bed, okay?”

“Alright.” He sighs like you’ve denied him of the world, and gets on the bed.

You do your thing in the bathroom. You don’t need to wash your hair, so that saves a good chunk of time. Your stomach still feels like shit, but you know it’ll pass. You dry off completely and moisturize your freshly shaven legs. Usually you’re wrapped in a towel, have your robe on, or even have pj’s on after you shower. You and the girls were introduced to tik tok last night, and you kind of want to try the new challenge going around. You just hoped Harry kept his boxers on.

You grab your phone and start the video, showing the audience that you’ve dropped your towel. You open the bathroom door slowly. Harry had an arm behind his head, and the other hand was scrolling through his phone. You giggle as you open the door the rest of the way.

“Hey baby?” He looks over at you, furrowing his brows while he smiles.

“What are you doin’?” He reaches his hands out to you.

“Air drying.”

He gets up off the bed and walks towards you, picking you up, you stop your video and laugh hysterically. He puts you down on the bed, and wonders what’s so funny.

“Were you recordin’ me?”

“I won’t post it if you don’t want me to since you’re like naked.”

“Post it where?”

“Tik tok…”

“Jesus, how old are you?” He chuckles. “Dana and Julia are on that app all the time.”

“It’s actually a lot of fun. The girls and I all downloaded it last night. There’s this challenge going around for couples, so I thought I’d give it a try. Look, watch your face.” You play the video back for him and you both start laughing. “But I won’t post it if you don’t want me to.”

“S’fine, I don’t really care.” He shrugs.

You post the video and add all the hashtags, then put your phone on the night table. You turn over and rest your head on his chest. You drape your leg over his, and he pulls your thigh up closer. He rubs his hand back and forth.

“Ohh, nice and smooth.” He coos. “Not that I really care if you’re hairy.”

“So if I just stopped shaving my legs, you wouldn’t care?” You raise an eyebrow.

“You said it’s for your own comfort right? Do what yeh want. It doesn’t bother me, hair is natural.”

“How progressive of you.” You say facetiously. He looks down at you as he continues to stroke your leg.

Your hand goes up into his hair and he leans in to lightly kiss you. You kiss him back, and you both sink into it. Your mouth opens for him and his tongue slides in tasting you until your tongue meets his. You both let out soft moans. One of his hands is cupping the back of your head, the other leaves your thigh and moves up to your breast, kneading it.

You pull him on top of you, and you feel his hard cock press against your hip, as your kiss deepens even more. It wasn’t often the two of you just made out. You always really liked kissing, to have someone’s lips on yours. Harry had soft lips, always. He was good at pressing them hard against yours, always making yours puffy and swollen after. You loved the shade of his lips too, especially after kissing. They would become this raspberry color. It made you want to bite onto them even more.

Subconsciously that’s what you do. You bite his bottom lip and suck it into your mouth. He groans and grinds himself against your hip. You let go of his lip slowly, really making a show of it as you open your eyes to look up at him.

“Want you.” He says in a whisper.

“Take me.” You whisper back.

He groans again kissing you quick before tugging his boxers down his legs, and tossing them to the floor. He hovers back over you, and you put your hands on his shoulders. One of his hands reaches between your legs to make sure you’re wet. Of course you are. It doesn’t take much with him. He smirks as you spread apart for him. He lines himself up and he slowly pushes inside. You both moan at the initial contact.

Once he’s all the way in, he stays there for a moment, just savoring how your velvety walls feel around him. You tighten out of instinct, and loosen up letting him know he can move. He slowly starts to rock his hips against yours. Your head falls back against the pillow.

“Y’like that?”

“Yes.” You say with your eyes rolling back into your head.

He keeps up the same motion, just rocking in and out of you, his tip hitting your g-spot already. He picks up the pace only a little to give himself some of the friction he’s been craving, but he slows it back down for you because he knows that’s how you like it. One of his hands drops back down to rub slow, but purposeful circles on your clit.

“Ngh, Harry.” You moan softly.

One of your hands moves from his shoulder to the grasp at the hair on the nape of neck. He drops his head to the crook of your neck, kissing you softly. Your breathing was getting heavier. He could feel you starting to tighten against him in preparation for your orgasm.

“Gonna come f’me, angel?” You moan at his words, your eyes fluttering closed. “Go on, I know you can do it. Come all around my cock.” He nips at your neck, and your heels dig into the backs of his thighs.

You let out a large moan of his name, tears pricking at your eyes, and he feels you pulsate around him. He fucks you through it, not letting up on your g-spot or clit. You come really hard, and the sound in the room fills with squelching and skin slapping against skin.

“Gimme another one, come on, let’s see how many we can go for.” Your eyes pop open. You realize he still hadn’t let up on you. You start panting again.

“Harry.” You groan. It was too much. You were so sensitive.

“Don’t hold back baby, just relax. Don’t fight it.”

“Shit, shit, shit.” The way he was talking to you was sending you to another dimension. You release around him again and he groans against you, loving the way it feels.

He leans up a bit and looks down at you with a wicked grin.

“What?” You say trying to catch your breath.

“Can I hit it from the side, love?” Your eyes grow dark with lust and you nod.

He helps you turn your body with him still inside you. One of your legs going up over his shoulders, and the other staying between his own legs. He rocks into you and your back arches immediately.

“Feel good?” He smirks.

“So good.” You clutch at the blankets as he continues to rock in and out of you. “Fuck, Harry.” You grit your teeth. You reach down to rub your swollen clit.

“Jesus.” He moans watching you touch yourself.

“Harry, I…I want you back on top of me, wanna feel your weight on me, please.”

“Anything you want, angel.”

He pulls out of you only for a moment to let you adjust. Both of his eyebrows raise as he watches you flip onto your stomach. You look back at him over your shoulder.

“Go on, I’m okay. Want it this way. Just get fully on top of me. You’ve done it before.”

“Okay…but…if-“

“I promise I’ll tell if you if I’m scared.” You wiggle your butt back at him to let you know you’re getting impatient.

He uses his thumbs to spread you apart, and he lines himself up to enter you again. You feel his chest flush to your back, and he rocks into you slowly. You raise your hips slightly to slip your hand underneath yourself to rub your clit. Harry grabs your other hand with his, and you intertwine. That’s that good shit, you think to yourself. Your hands rest together by your head.

He’s getting in so deep this way, and the way he’s squeezing one of your hips just feels so good. You rub yourself a little faster, and you feel another orgasm coming on. He can feel it coming too.

“That’s it baby, come f’me again.” That was all he needed to say to make your release come. “You feel so fuckin’ good.” You pulse and vibrate around his cock. You wonder how much longer he’ll last.

You both have a pretty decent rhythm going. You push yourself back against him, and his hand moves from your hip to your ass. You squeeze tighter on the hand that’s intertwined with yours. He kisses on the back of your neck and shoulders. You arch up into him.

“I love you, Harry.” You groan.

“I love you too, so fuckin’ much. Wanna be able to look at yeh, can we do that?”

“Yes.”

He pulls out so you can flip back over. You grab back at his hand so you can continue to hold onto it. He knows you really like this. His other hand slides up your torso, feeling every inch of your smooth skin. His hand rest gently on your throat, he doesn’t even tighten around you, he just wants it there. You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer to you. He thrusts in deep and stay there so you can grind against him.

“Harry.” You moan. You were overly sensitive at this point, but he was so rock hard inside you, it felt amazing.

“C’mon baby, show me how you do it.”

You nails from your free hand dig into his bicep as your fourth release comes out in waves.

“Shit! Fuck!” You scream. You were completely drenched in sweat now. You felt like you were going to need another shower. “Harry, please.”

“Not done with yeh yet, my love.” You look up at him. What the hell was he trying to do to you? He kisses you hard as he moves his hips in circles.

“Mother of fuck!” You gasp.

“Yeah, you like it when I do that, huh?” You nod your head yes as he continues you stretching you out like this.

You’re down for the count when you feel your legs start to shake again and your back arches fully off the bed. He smirks watching your body writhe underneath him.

“Harry.” You breathe. “It’s too much.”

“Want me to come now?”

“Yes, please. Fill me up.”

He grins at you and squeezes tightly on your hand as he thrusts in and out of you. It doesn’t take much for him to come. The warmth from it all feels incredible. He pulls out once he’s done, and collapses next to you. Your mouth hangs open as you look at him. Your legs felt like jello. It was some intense love making to say the least.

“What was that all about?” You say, reaching for him. He lays his head on your chest.

“Just something maybe you’ll keep in the back of your head next time you flirt with some bartender to get free drinks.” He looks up at you with a smirk, and your jaw drops farther.

Oh he was good, really good. He was telling the truth when he said he missed you. But he didn’t want to make you come over and over just because you both were in a lovey mood. No, he wanted to teach you a lesson. To remind you he was always there, no matter what. That he was the only one worth giving the time of day to. That he was the only one that was ever going to make you feel this way. Well played Mr. Styles, well played.

[echonecho]

Pumpkin (Chapter One)

Read it here on ao3!

Summary: A rainy autumn day takes Remus out for an adventure of a lifetime.

AN: Here’s to me never writing anything from Sirius’s perspective! Maybe one day. I’d actually look out for next month. LOL jk … unless?

WARNING: swearing, coming out, mentions of food and drinking, therapy

Chapter One: If I Don’t See You Tomorrow

-----

Friday, October 29th, 2021

Lonely, overflowing bookshelves collected themselves in Remus’s apartment. The brown, decaying walls went lucid as he thumped his foot. His consistent leg jumping ignored the chronic pain of it all. Remus attempted for a sixth time to focus, but the chill krept upon him.

He sat back in the wooden chair, crossing his arms. The thick hoodie and scarf that reached his thighs did nothing to aid the damp room. Bags held their place under his eyes as Remus sighed and closed them. He had been studying the magnetohydrodynamics of astrophysics since nine that morning, and his brain was numb.

When he had first enrolled, Remus was a simple Astronomy major, unaware of the dangers of physics and its symptoms of brain death. He cracked his neck and reached for his cellphone. 

Nine Unread Messages

“Fuck,” he signed. At least it wasn’t twelve missed FaceTime calls this time. Remus read the oldest to the most recent.

James Potter: Are you comin out tonight?

James Potter: Fuck, wait

James Potter: Didn’t mean that. Sorry.

James Potter: My friend is hosting a poetry slam, and this guy you might like is performing

Lily Evans: You should come out tonight! James and I are going

Marlene McKinnon: Ignore James, he’s trying

Lily Evans: Shoot

Lily Evans: It’ll be fun :)

Mary MacDonald: You deserve some fun!

Remus sighed again. A poetry slam? It’s like he was a liberal arts major. He glanced at the alarm clock.

4:26 pm

Remus Lupin: When is it?

He had let another day pass him by.

James was coping well, actually, a lot better than Remus had thought he would. Releasing that you are bisexual out to the world may be difficult. He had known his little friend group would react well.

Lily had been a great ally since he could ever remember. She had introduced him to pride events and a queer coffee shop on his block. Marlene McKinnon had been in a loving relationship with Dorcas Meadowes, someone Remus had befriended somehow in group therapy. As for Mary, Remus was always sure she had been in love with this person all throughout secondary school. He had never known this person, as Mary wasn’t one to exactly brag on her romantic life. Though she was never afraid to dance the night away with a stranger, Remus had never seen her with someone for that long.

James was where Remus tensed. He had been the football player Lily insisted on seeing every single day since first-year. He had gone to some queer pride events before, sure, but he looked the definition of a straight, cis-gender man. Remus had never pushed for more, and he never found him all that interesting.

All the same, Remus had come out the previous night and wanted to physically escape back into the closet. Though his friends were more welcoming than not, their together-ness felt shifted. The group had been out for drinks, their weekly round of overflowing tequila and bottomless mimosas.

Remus had really said, “Guys, I’m queer. Bisexual, I think.”

The girls had tried to envelope him into a hug. James had raised his pint and said cheers to the man. Now, though, Remus wanted to turn back into his burrow of a bed.

As if the world had turned against him, Remus’s world was just the same. It should have felt the same. Coming out was a part of life -- only some people’s lives, but still. Remus had come out. His friends swore they didn’t see him any different. But their friend group felt shifted. 

Coming out, Remus thought, shouldn’t be that big of a deal. It was 2021, for Heaven’s sake! Being slightly gay or merely slightly straight wasn’t that important.

It wouldn’t hurt to hang out with them. Remus needed a break from upcoming deadlines and homework assignments. He stood up without a second thought and cracked his back. He really needed to see a chiropractor. There was a cheap one in Chinatown. Perhaps …

The cell phone buzzed.

Lily Evans replied with: 5 tonight

Remus Lupin: Like in 30 mins? God, Lily

Marlene McKinnon: I’m the only god here, Lupin

Remus Lupin: I’ll be there by quarter-after

Lily texted over the address. Of course, it was an hour walk or a twenty-minute train ride. Remus had never been a fan of the train.

He looked outside his crooked window. Wind blew through the broken glass. Rain poured from the dusty clouds. Walking to the “poetry slam” would include a later-destroyed charity shop sweater and ruined corduroys. The train it was, then.

Remus shut and pushed his textbooks away. He threw on a simple button-down and some nicer-looking slacks. Then a thought crossed his mind -- Was James trying to set him up?

James had mentioned a guy Remus might like.

Odd. Maybe James was a better ally than he had recognized. Depends on the man, Remus supposed.

Remus turned to check the alarm clock once again.

4:46 pm

He could make the next train.

Hobbling with an unsturdy hip, Remus briskly stepped to the station. The tube was over-crowd, even in the rush hour. The train arrived as Remus came to. His breathing wavered as he walked into the train itself.

As the train jolted forward, Remus clung to the silver pipes hanging from the ceiling.

Five stops later, the tube stopped suddenly. Other passengers flew forward without warning. The natural instinct in Remus wavered as a body pushed into him. He turned around and captured the man.

Long black hair hit his face, and Remus wanted to gag. How could someone keep their hair that long? he wondered.

The man stood back up from Remus’s arms and looked him up and down.

“Thanks,” the man before him mouthed.

[shanascarlett]

Songs from Transformers playlist

Autobots

AC/DC - Thunderstruck

Art of Dying - Die Trying

Extreme Music - Skin Em Up

Glitch Mob - Better Hide, better run

Glitch Mob - Animus Vox

Hollywood Undead - How We Roll

ill Factor - Champion Sound

Imagine Dragons - Radioactive

Imagine Dragons - Cha-Ching (Till We Grow Older)

Imagine Dragons - I’m So Sorry

Imagine Dragons - Warriors

Imagine Dragons - Battle Cry

Lemaitre - Day Two

Linkin Park - Final Masquerade

Linkin Park - A line in the sand

Linkin Park - Lost in the Echo

Linkin Park - Burn it Down

Linkin Park - Road Untraveled

Linkin Park - Leave Out All The Rest

Linkin Park - Shadow of the Day

Linkin Park - What I’ve Done

Linkin Park - The Little Things Give You Away

Linkin Park - Iridescent

Ryan Star - Brand New Day

Skillet - Feel Invincible

two door cinema club - Undercover Martyn

USS - Who's With Me

Fall Out Boy  The Last of the Real Ones

Linkin Park ft. Steve Aoki - A Light That Never Comes

One Republic - Counting Stars

USS - Work Shoes

Panic! At The Disco - Victorious

Worlds Collide - Extended Orchestra Mix (ft. Nicki Taylor)

Youngblood Hawke - Pressure

Optimus Prime

As Lions - World on Fire

Fired Earth Music - Aphelion

Hammock - Numinous

Hollywood Undead - Take Me Home

Immediate Music - Rising Empire

Immediate Music - WIth Great Power

Linkin Park - I’ll be gone

Linkin Park - Powerless

Linkin Park - Leave Out All The Rest

Poets of the Fall - No End, No Beginning

Red - House of Glass 

Tribal Society  – Kings

Bumblebee

Arcade Fire - Rococo

Avicii - Wake me Up

Imagine Dragons - It’s Time

Imagine Dragons - Cha-Ching (Till We Grow Older)

Linkin Park - Road Untraveled

Linkin Park - Robot Boy

Swedish House Mafia - Don’t you worry child

Panic! At The Disco - Vegas Lights

Sideburns VS Matisyahu - Let Go (Fight Like A Warrior)

TobyMac - Ignition

Hot Rod/Rodimus Prime

Fitz & The Tantrums - HandClap

Hollywood Undead - Live Fast Die Young

Linkin Park - Road Untraveled

Bassnectar - Into the Sun

Saint Mesa - Lion

Skillet - You Take My Rights Away

Thousand Foot Krutch - Untraveled Road

two door cinema club - Undercover Martyn

You Me At Six - Fast Foward

Panic! At The Disco - Vegas Lights

One Republic - Counting Stars

TobyMac - Ignition

Panic! At The Disco - Victorious

Vincent Steele, Michael Woodenbridge & Nine One One - Rise UP

Elita-One

Flume - Greatest View

Icon For Hire - Too Loud

Ironhide

Papa Roach - Maniac

Ill Factor - Champion Sound

Prowl

Linkin Park - Crawling

Linkin Park - Road Untraveled

Linkin Park - Blackout

Sidewalks And Skeletons - Morphine

Meg Myers - Make A Shadow

Dirty Palm - Oblivion

Vincent Steele, Michael Woodenbridge & Nine One One - Rise UP

Paramore - Ignorance (Animated ver)

Icon For Hire - Iodine

Icon For Hire - The Grey

Ratchet

Imagine Dragons - Gold

Woodkid feat. Max Richter - The golden age - embers

Arcee

Icon For Hire - Pulse

Icon For Hire - Demons

Icon For Hire - Make A Move

Drift

Linkin Park - Crawling

Linkin Park - Waiting For The End

Klangkarussell - Sternenkinder

Within Temptation - Running Up That Hill

Dirty Palm - Oblivion

Vincent Steele, Michael Woodenbridge & Nine One One - Rise UP

Sideswipe

TobyMac - Ignition

Suntreaker

Papa Roach - Maniac

TobyMac - Ignition

Vincent Steele, Michael Woodenbridge & Nine One One - Rise UP

Icon For Hire - Hope of Morning

Windblade

Dpen and Nick Varon - Grasshopper

Within Temptation - Running Up That Hill

Within Temptation - Mercy Mirror

Tommee Profitt - Enchantment (feat. HEAVYOCITY)

Tommee Profitt - This Ship Is Going Down (feat. Xeah)

Mistress of Flame

Within Temptation - Mercy Mirror

Blurr

Skillet - You Take My Rights Away

You Me At Six - Fast Foward

The Prodigy - Wild Frontier

TobyMac - Ignition

Skids

Linkin Park - Roads Untraveled

TobyMac - Ignition

Dirty Palm - Oblivion

Kup

Papa Roach - Maniac

Tailgate

Foster The People - Helena Beat

Foster The People - Houdini

Chromedome

Dirty Palm - Oblivion

Rewind

two door cinema club - Undercover Martyn

Grimlock

Foo FIghters - Rope

Alpha Trion

Ryan Star - Brand New Day

Decepticons

Deuce - I Came To Party

Hollywood Undead - Apologize

Hollywood Undead - Lights Out

Hollywood Undead - Tendencies

Hollywood Undead - Lump Your Head

Hollywood Undead - Le Deux

Hollywood Undead - War Child

Hollywood Undead - Comin In Hot

Hollywood Undead - Dead Bite

Hollywood Undead - We Are

Imagine Dragons - Who We Are

Julien-K - This Machine

Linkin Park - Plc.4 Mie Haed

Linkin Park - When They Come For Me

Powerman 5000 - How to be a human

Red - Outside

Within Temptation - Tell Me Why

Front Line Assembly - Sturm (Seekers Theme)

Clarx - H.E.Y. (Seekers Theme)

Within Temptation - Mad World

Powerman 5000 - Invade, Destroy, Repeat

Powerman 5000 - We Want It All

grandson - Blood Water

Megatron

Adelitas Way - Sick

Hollywood Undead - Dove and Grenade

Imagine Dragons - Monster

In This Moment - Adrenalize

Nine Ich Nails - Meet Your Master

Nostalghia - Homeostasis

Red - Damage

Warmer - in my head its like hell

Starscream

Franz Ferdinand - Evil Eye

Hollywood Undead - Levitate

Inner Party System - Don’t Stop

Missio - Twisted

Bring Me The Horizon - nihilist blues ft. Grimes

3OH!3 - Anything I Want

Machinae Supremacy - Gimme More

PhemieC – Ugly Story

USS - This Is The Best

Soundwave

Current Value - Dark Rain

Dead Fetus - Mind of God

King Plague - Ave Plague

Shockwave

ZAYDE WOLF - COLD-BLOODED

Knockout

Angelsplit - 100%

Family Force - Chainsaw

Franz Ferdinand - Evil Eye

Ken Ashcorp - Absolute

Prodigy - Destroy

Rabbit Junk - IDONTGIVEAFUCK

Breakdown

55 Escape - Addiction

Airachnid

Sayonara Maxwell - Decay Queen

Cyclonus

Imagine Dragons - Demons

Three Days Grace - I Am Machine

Three Days Grace - Just Like You

Action

Actual Phantom - 7 Nation of Army

Barns Courtney - Champion

Beastie Boys - Sabotage

Blue Stahli - You’ll get what’s coming

Bring Me The Horizon - Mantra

Celdweller - Own Little World

Celdweller - IRIA

Celdweller - Shapeshifter

DVBBS & Borgeous - Tsunami

Hollywood Undead - Pray

Imagine Dragons - Battle Cry

Inner Party System - Don’t Stop

Kings & Creatures (Wolfpack) - Hunted

Linkin Park - Wastelands

Linkin Park - With you

Linkin Park - Points of Authority

Linkin Park - Burn it Down

Linkin Park - Lies Greed Misery

Linkin Park - Pts. Of. Athrty

Linkin Park - P5hng Me A_wy

Linkin Park - Rnw@y

Linkin Park - By_Myslf

Linkin Park - Kyur4 Th Ich

Otep - Lie

Red - Falling Sky 

Red - Death of Me (Guillotine Remix)

The Used - Revolution

USS - Yin Yang

Within Temptation - Endless War

Fall Out Boy – Light Em Up

Hollywood Undead - Already Dead

Within Temptation - Holy Ground

Imagine Dragons - Believer

Within Temptation - In Vain

Within Temptation - Raise Your Banner

Within Temptation - Reckoning

Tommee Profitt - In The End

Julien-K - Technical Difficulties

Calm time

Arcade Fire - Suburbs

Arcade Fire - Rococo

Dirty South - Unknown

Ellie Goulding - Your Song

Everything Everything - Blast Doors

Florence And The Machine - Hurricane Drunk

IAMX - Alive in New Light

Imagine Dragons - Tokyo

Imagine Dragons - Working Man

Imagine Dragons - Radioactive (Synchronice Remix)

Imagine Dragons - Fall

The Kills - Sour Cherry

Lemaitre - Day Two

Ludovico Einaudi - Life

Raign - Empire of our own

Battle Tapes - Feel The Same

Ki:Theory - Kitty Hawk (Break Science Remix)

Leon Else - Tomorrow Land (All Fall Down)

Tom Day - Who We Want To Be

Fall Out Boy - Centuries (Gazzo Remix)

Fever Ray – If I Had A Heart

Glitch Mob - Fortune Days

Panic! At The Disco - Vegas Lights

Rabbit Junk - Bubble

Ruelle  - Take It All

Ruelle - Until We Go Down

USS - Work Shoes

Cybertron

As Lions - World on Fire

Bastille - Pompeii

Imagine Dragons - Nothing Left to Say

Linkin Park - P5hng Me A_wy

Linkin Park - Fallout

Perfume Genius - Longpig

Confidential Music – Albatross

Ruelle - Until We Go Down

Woodkid feat. Max Richter - The golden age - embers

Unicron

Dead Can Dance - Black Sun

Optimus x Elita

Avril Lavigne feat. Nickelback - Let Me Go

Linkin Park - Jornada Del Muerto

Adam Lambert - Evil In The Night Lyrics (Transformers Animated Ver)

Hot Rod x Arcee

Of Monsters And Men - Wolves without teeth

Goo Goo Dolls - Before It's Too Late

Starscream x Windblade

Twenty One Pilots - Doubt

Bring Me The Horizon - in the dark

[georgemackayhey]

Listen To The Music

"Will you write George with an s/o who sings and writes music?"

Yooo surprise day off! I've finally been able to finish this rec and start work on some others. Enjoy!

w/c: 1k.

───※ ·❆· ※───

Immersed in a sea of red light slowly turning purple, still you saw the blue of his eyes. He was walking toward you to the gentle beat of the song. You stood stone still, waiting for his form to fade with the pitch of the distant piano chord but the song wasn't over and he was floating closer until he was right there.

Your body took over, forcing words into the microphone as your mind stalled, fixated on the prettiest man you'd ever seen. While girls swayed to the swells of your song, and their boyfriends threw their heads back in laughter, the man with sharp blue eyes stood and stared.

He wasn't watching you, not really. His eyes stayed locked softly on yours while your brain caught up and alerted you to sing right to him. His eyes never raked up and down your figure, like you dreamed they might. He just kept on looking at your despite our best efforts to put on a show.

That was your job, sure. You knew better than anyhow how to get lost in the music, coming up for air in between tracks. This was your job. This was your dream, and the man who appeared out of nowhere on your second to last number stayed when you kicked into your last song. And even though he kept his eyes on you, it was still your deepest desire to give him a show worth watching.

When you opened your eyes again to the fading instruments and cheers from drunken audience members, the man of your dreams wasn't there anymore.

"We're gonna take a quick break, don't go anywhere!" You called into the microphone, crossing your fingers that a certain someone was someplace close enough to hear.

As you dashed from the stage, you halfheartedly thanked some of your friends for showing up before scurrying to the bar. You faked desperation for a shot of whiskey while scanning the crowd from a new perspective. There were plenty of pretty people with nice teeth and hair you could have run your fingers through, but none of them were the guy who caught your fancy.

You took your shot of whiskey, trading the barkeep a wink as a promise to close your tab later, and kept moving. This time, to the restrooms. You could sweep your gaze past patrons on your way and hope to run into the guy with those bright blue eyes. But you didn't, so you pretended to use the restroom and hurried backstage to grab your coat, and dash outside.

Across from the bar you spent most of your time singing in, there was a gas station. Both businesses were teeming with crowds on nights like these. This was both a comforting and daunting fact now. Maybe your man would be lost in that crowd, but what if you failed to pick him out?

You meandered down the block through hoards of friends sharing a smoke and some regulars who recognized and greeted you. But none of them was the guy you were so hopelessly longing to find. So after holding out the last bit of hope on your mossy back to the side door, you slumped against the brick of the building when someone called your name.

One of your band members had slipped out for a smoke and went straight into complaining about how the sound guy was always too sloshed to manage your second act. You listened, knowing you needed too, but felt a weight lift off your shoulders when he was whisked away by his lover.

Right when you got the gumption to peel yourself from the brick wall and give up, there was a warmth at your side.

"I really like your voice."

It was him. It was the man with starry blue eyes and perfectly tousled hair, the man you'd been singing too. The guy you'd been looking for had shown up unexpectedly all over again. You felt a bit embarrassed for how wide your smile grew, already smitten.

"Thank you." You nodded, feeling proud to have entranced him even just a little, enough to score a comment from those perfectly pouty lips.

"I'm sure you get that a lot. B-but I really do." The guy brought a hand to the back of his neck and the skin around his eyes crinkled as he went on talking right to you.

"Well comin' from you, it means a lot. I watched you in the crowd." You spoke up. Your body was on autopilot again, speaking while your mind stalled. You'd been so desperate to find him but hadn't thought of what to say once you had.

"I wasn't going to go out tonight," The guy shrugged, peering over his shoulder like he might have been in trouble. "early day tomorrow. But I'm glad I ended up here. You.. just-"

The guy seemed to flounder, and you couldn't help but let out a nervous giggle.

"I came out here looking for you, ya know?" You'd gotten this far, and you hoped that your statement might align with where his had left off.

"I was meant to take a mate home, but I called him a cab. I wanted to stick around and for your second set."

And then there was no point in biting back your smile. You asked for the handsome man's name. George, he said, confident in his identity, but seemingly as surprised as you were by the course of the evening's events.

You grabbed George by the hand and bought him a drink at the bar. You left him there alone at a stool, watching him from your risen stage.

That's how it all started. George stayed through your second set and showed up to everyone after that weekend. He was never shy about slinking his way right to the front, and you were never ashamed to keep your eyes on his, except when you closed them overcome with the music you sang.

When George started leaving the bar to follow you home, the music seemed to come alive in an all-new way. You were always humming new melodies and thinking up new lyrics that couldn't have possibly been about anyone but George. The way he looked at you, the things he said and how he said them. You could never believe he was real, and the feeling that bloomed in your chest when he was in your line of sight was unparalleled by any other form of art.

Sometimes, all you were left with was the music that reminded you of him, while he was off making something of his own.

When he was home, you would help him practice his lines and auditions.

"You can find the music in everything, huh?" George remarked, dazzled by how you helped him find the beat of a certain script that he'd been struggling to get into the swing of.

George liked the way you found music in everything, calling you August Rush when your ideas caught him off guard. You always laughed and asked him what it was like to see the world through movies. George liked your voice, comparing it to things like honey and church bells and stormy nights. You always blushed and buried your face in his shoulder, thankful for the fact you were able to keep him so close. He was something worth singing about.

The songs you wrote for and about him were little safe havens you ran back to when he was away. But when he finally made his way back, you took rare bouts of time to turn down the volume in your head and sink into George's side. He'd pick out his favorite movies and point out his favorite bits, explaining how they must have been made and thought up. Even during his rambling through films, you found yourself tearing up at the end with an all-new appreciation for the art.

"Amazing. We just watched a comedy, you know?" George lightly chuckled, moving a bit of hair behind your ear as you dabbed your eyes.

"I can't help it!" You jabbed his side with a small laugh. "I just get so lost in the story, especially when you dissect the plot the way you do." You pointed a finger to George who went on smiling as you blamed him.

George went on saying something about how he was always able to separate the story and admire the way each film was made, keeping an eye peeled for tricks of light and perfectly delivered lines, he saw the beauty of its making.

You wished you were better at doing that. You were always planting yourself in the middle of the plots, like how you lost yourself in a song, becoming a part of it all. You asked how George stopped himself from getting lost in a roll. He said he didn't quite know.

And then he left again for six months. You stayed behind with a stack of songs and a few new ones about how lonely it was to be in love, sometimes, but still grateful to have been at all.

When George came back home from shooting his newest war drama, something had changed. He never spoke directly about it, and you never directly asked. But George talked you into being his date at the premiere, and you wondered how you'd gotten lucky enough to say yes.

That night you sat by Georges's side in between castmates who'd become like family, and watched your man act his heart out. But it felt like more than that, you didn't feel like you were watching George play a character, you felt like you were watching him. And when the film ended with his eyes closing, you turned to see George had been crying.

He never let go of your hand from that moment on for the rest of the evening. Somewhere in the quiet night between the premier and the afterparty, when you stopped for a breath of fresh air, you felt yourself float deeper into loving him. You promised George, unprompted, that you'd always be there for him just like he'd been for you through all the gigs and rainy days in between.

And when you went back to the bar, to the place you met; mixed in the sea of purples that faded into green, you could still see the blue of his eyes through changing colors- even when they were closed so he could better listen to the music.

───※ ·❆· ※───

Requests are open ♡

[lettuce-seize-the-day]

Goodbye Until Tomorrow

Summary: Race gets accepted to his dream school. But it means he would have to leave Spot.

One-shot, 1377 words

AO3 link

Race used one hand to open his email, the other being occupied by Spot’s. He felt his grip tighten as he finally opened it and they read it together. It is our pleasure to inform you…

They sat in silence for a minute as the implications of the words on the screen set in.

“You have to go,” Spot finally said, with tears in his eyes. That was a surprise. Race could count on one hand the number of times he had ever seen him cry the entire time he had known him.

Race sighed and shook his head. “It may not even be worth it,” he replied. “I’d still have to go thousands of dollars in debt, and it may not even work out.”

Spot traced circles into his hand with his thumb. “Race, this is the opportunity of a lifetime. This is your dream school, and they’re giving you the biggest scholarship they’ve got. You’d be crazy not to.”

“The biggest scholarship they got don’t cover everything, babe,” he said as he stood up and began to pace. “I dunno if I’m good enough to be able to get out from under all dat debt once I graduate.”

On a whim, Race had applied to one of the best performing arts schools in the country. He had realized he could never truly pursue anything but dance, and he wanted to go to a stronger school for it. Not only did he get accepted into the program, they gave him the biggest financial aid package they offered. But Race did not come from money and he couldn’t pay a dime for his education. He’d have to take out the rest in loans. And it was a private school, which meant the loans would not be small.

“Don’t it say somethin’ to ya talent dat one’a the best schools in the country for dance wants ya bad enough to give ya the biggest package they got? You deserve to go somewheres they take you serious. Not here, Racer. You n’I both know ya suffocating here.”

“It ain’t jus me, though,” he said quietly. “I’d hafta leave youz behind.” Spot had a full ride to the state school in the small college town they went to. His family was here. As much as Spot hated this town, it wouldn’t make sense for him to come with Race. And they both knew it.

“Racer… people come an’ go, but youz was meant to dance. Ya gotta go somewheres they teach ya properly. This is your life we’re talkin’ ‘bout, not jus’ some college relationship.”

Those words stung. Race froze in his tracks and stared at Spot. “Is dat really all this is to ya? I’m jus’ ya college boyfriend?”

“No, of course not. That ain’t what I meant,” said Spot, standing up and grabbing his hands. He brought them to his lips and gave them a tender kiss, then spoke quietly. “But babe, I’m jus’ one person. If I’m the thing holdin’ ya back, I ain’t neva gonna forgive myself.”

Race looked down, tears filling his eyes as well. “What if ya forget ‘bout me, though?” he whispered.

“Aw, c’mon, Racer, you know that ain’t neva gonna happen,” he said, squeezing his hands and gently swinging them. “‘Sides, you’ll be surrounded by otha artists jus’ like youz. Not like in this town where everyone is white and comin’ from a total of five towns within two hours’a here. If anyone’s gonna be forgettin’ ‘bout anyone…”

“Don’t you dare,” Race said coldly. Spot was his first boyfriend, and the only person he had ever loved this way. They had something extraordinary together. Race felt like he was caught between two different once-in-a-lifetime chances: One of them the life he had always wanted, across the country; the other the love he had always dreamed of, right in front of him.

“Well, this don’t hafta be goodbye forever for us,” said Spot. “We got phones for a reason. And cars. And buses. Planes. Babe, this ain’t an opportunity that comes ‘round every day. And you know I’ll always be here for ya, wheneva you come back.”

Race shook his head. “Is it really all dat smart for me ta bury myself in debt for this? Jus’ cuz it’s my dream, or whateva?” He let go of Spot’s hands and turned around, taking a few steps away to think aloud. “Maybe I oughta jus’ stay here and do somethin’ normal, like business. I could be a business major.” He turned back around to look at Spot. They held eye contact for a second, then both immediately burst out laughing.

“You know I would neva be wid a business major, love. If you did that, you’d be givin’ up both me and dance,” Spot said as he calmed down, only partially sarcastic.

“I know, I know. I jus’ sometimes wish I could do somethin’ normal. It’d be so much easier,” Race lamented with a sigh as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, but babe, you’d neva settle for easy. Das why you came to school undeclared, das why ya fell in love wid me, and das why you could neva do nothin’ but the arts.” He grabbed his hand and gave it another kiss. “And das why you hafta go. Your future financials be damned, Racer. You’ve found somethin’ special an’ if ya let it go now, you’ll regret it for the rest’a ya life.”

“What if you’re my somethin’ special?” Race asked, looking into his deep, soulful brown eyes. “What if I let ya go an’ regret dat the rest’a my life?”

Spot took a deep breath. He knew how much Race cared for him, but he could not let that be the reason he didn’t go. “People find love all the time, Racer. But most everyone chases their dreams their whole life and never get the chance to have ‘em. Ya can’t throw away this chance on my account. I won’t letcha.”

Race bit his lip and shook his head. He turned around and sat back down on the bed. A tear finally fell from his eyes which had been welled up the whole time. “Babe, is it really worth it? I mean, do ya really think I have a chance?”

Spot came and sat right next to him and held his hand. “I think you have a better chance than anyone in the world.” He laced their fingers together and lifted his hand to give it another kiss. “I think you are the most beautiful dancer of all time.” He gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I think anyone who ever tries to dispute that is an idiot and I hate them and I will destroy them.” He stood up, then stooped down in front of Race so they were face-to-face, and gave him a gentle kiss on his nose. “And I think you would be an idiot to think anything differently.” He knelt down on the floor and grabbed both of Race’s hands, then spoke in a hushed voice. “Babe, if you don’t do this, I’m always going to be worried sick about you. There’s nothing on earth that you love as much as dance, and if you try to pursue anything else, you will be absolutely miserable.”

Race sniffled and squeezed Spot’s hands in his. “There is one thing,” he said, his voice finally cracking. "One thing I love as much as dance," he managed before he let out a gentle sob.

Spot stood up, then straddled Race in a koala-bear hug as he remained seated on the bed. “I know, baby,” he said, feeling his own voice going up as he fought the tears that threatened to spill over. “I know. But if it was me, what would you say?” he asked, tenderly tracing circles into his back with his fingertips.

Spot felt Race’s body shake against his as he started to cry. He didn’t need to answer, because they both knew he would be telling him exactly what Spot was telling him now. As the reality of their situation set in, Race felt Spot tighten his embrace and they held each other for as long as they could while they still had the chance.

[mikenips]

Do Sitting Ducks Take Acid

Woke up today with the same fear I wake up to everyday.  The mail on the table isn’t addressed to me.  But I’ve been known to break the law here and there.  So I read the open letter anyways.  The federal government with the news of the oncoming impending doom.  Twelve hundred in the bank account.  Sincerely.  President Donald J. Trump.  It feels surreal.  A sittin’ duck listenin’ the broken record skip for the past four years.  The loop echoes in the news and Facebook comments.  But just now recognizin’ that every revolution brings you back to where you started.  Recognize you’re stuck in the loop and there’s no way to spin on.  Move past it.  Pick up the needle at his signature copied to millions of people.  It’s real.  There’s nothin’ left to do now but face it.  And hope you can jump the acid loop.  Skip past election day.  And it’s all over.

All things must pass.  Everyone out here strokin’ the Beatles off.  But don’t wanna face the reality of George Harrison’s oncoming impending doom.  All things must pass.  The lines of ecstasy drip into the nosebleed.  Eventually come down.  Left sweaty and shirtless in your room.  Alone.  Watchin’ Big Bird sing at Jim Henson’s funeral.  Made it through years of revolution.  Revolution is comin’ to a doorstep near you come this November.  Look outside.  Wish the sun good morning.

Grow up.  Jim Henson’s dead man!  Step on the porch.  Nose clogged with baby lax and amphetamines as the hundred from unemployment unravel into ones.  Light a cig with coffee as the sunrises.  Maybe it’s the ketamine or acid or the fuckin’ coffee.  But step outside and realize you don’t remember how to get to Sesame Street.  And the neighbors you’ve lived next to for three years but don’t know their names don’t wanna see this shit outside their doors every morning.  Shit man.  There’s kids that live here.  They don’t wanna see you gaspin’ for air.  Hidin’ from the sunlight.

“I’m fine grandma.  Just sat down to play Scooby-Doo with the homies.”  Heathcliff the Big Cheese spits the oncoming impending doom into the phone.  Another story for her to tell her friends.  The needle keeps spinnin’ on the edge of the wax.  He tells you if you don’t beat the game the whole world is gonna implode.  Shit.  Between the Pentagon confirmin’ the dude from Blink-182 isn’t just a cook from our childhood but was onto aliens long before the CIA.  California is lookin’ like Blade Runner 2049.  Or some other movie set Hollywood uses to make underdeveloped countries look overly polluted.  A facist is paying our rent while plannin’ a coup.  And the hundreds of thousands dead are just sacrifices to keep Wall Street above the risin’ sea levels in the midst of a pandemic.  2020 is really turnin’ into some type of apocalypse film.  Arthur Lee always said the news of today will be the movies of tomorrow.  But I’m not so sure I wanna stick around to see the ending.  Not sure if I want this chapter included in my semi-autobiographical choose your own great American adventure novel.  I want the thrill of meetin’ new people and them sayin’ they’ve heard a lot about me.  Just don’t know if this is a part I want them to hear.

Drag on the cig while takin’ in the drag of reality outside the living room.  The grass seems more vivid.  More harsh.  But the neighbors don’t see the cosmos exhaled.  They don’t see the constellations of ash and clouds smoked through your nostrils to avoid a dry socket and another couple hundred dollar dental bill.  They don’t see the cliche survival story of hours spent researchin’ sellin’ plasma to pay the bill.  They don’t see that me and my friends are out here birthin’ our own cosmos.  We know the world can be as simple as Fraggle Rock.  And now without Jim Henson it feels like someone is pullin’ the puppet strings in a different direction.

We are the lonely and desperate people John Sinclair told you about.  We collage together sound bites and Harmony Korine B-rolls.  News broadcasts and Instagram photos.  Makin’ our own vibe boards.  Boredom is the vibe.  Cause no matter how far you move the needle.  You keep revolve in the same loop.  The constant struggle to make the moment bearable.  The Guilty Undertaker tries to drone it out behind chord organs and omnichord beats.  File it under the audiobooks on Bandcamp.  Like some self-help book that didn’t include an instruction manual.  It reads like noise.  But in relative pitch plays back like a symphony on the reel to reel.  But it just revolves back to where you started.  Nothing.

“Yeah.  I think hating yourself is just part of your twenties.”  PJ Banana tells you this.  While pissin’ into the oncoming impending doom in my front yard.  Takes a bump with a Gumby like omnipresence.  Downs the beer with toddler like chaos but is too old for childhood games like kick the can and nitrous oxide.  Somethin’ about that last third makes ya puke up all the drunken coherence.

We resist.  We take the streets.  We play rock and roll music in sweaty basements till one in the morning.  Record revolves in the living room.  Nobody is listenin’ to any of it.  No matter how much the record skips we just fall into the loop.  We grow into somethin’ we hate.  Throw in the towel after he says he deserves a third term for reckless endangerment.  Then pack it up for the burbs.  A place the news and movies don’t wanna go.  Replace the familiar characters of Oscar the Grouch and Cookie Monster with Phil the dentist who treats himself to another year of golf at the club on your unnecessary root canal financed by your plasma.  The lobotomizing mundane doesn’t hurt as much as the oncoming impending doom.  Call it god or Santa Claus.  But at the end of the day we’re still gettin’ punished.

Unwind in a hammock without the sound of duster cans firin’ in the distance.  Unsure if your actions are an ironic joke at your own expense.  You always said don’t take yourself so seriously.  Shove metal through your flesh.  The good memories never stay.  Only the nasty wounds scar.  You let your life imitate the art you once lived.  Masochistically ink yourself.  Tattoo the good memories that burnt up with the braincells from aluminum foil bowls.  You don’t remember the stories.  But you can still see Skaterino outside the club askin’ where the party’s at.

You can’t see his face or the Carhart beanie that probably stays on durin’ sex.  But you can see his smile.  Nicotine stains in his teeth glisten with childlike optimism at the oncoming impending doom.  Every morning I wake up with the same fear his question left with me that night outside the ol’ OLL.  Every morning I wake up to the shower head I don’t recognize.  But the familiar dirt on the ground.  Every morning I wake up to images of people that did terrible things to their bodies taped to my walls.  Everyday I wonder if I know where the party is at when I wake up.  A room of burnouts and drunks like sittin’ ducks gets you the fix we all crave when they say they’ve heard a lot about you.  We all live in the hopes someone else shares our urban legend to people we may never know.  A room of burnouts and drunks like sittin’ ducks in the rain dancin’ their cares away with the fraggles will always be more aware than Phil the dentist pullin’ a tooth from your skull with pliers in the most unprofessional medical procedure.  How much college do you need to learn how to destroy lives?

Everyday I wake up with the same fear that this is the day the party ends.  The drugs come down.  The fascists burn the Constitution in an Antifa organized wildfire to spread climate change propaganda.  Everyday I wake up with the fear that this is the day the fear ends.  I meet Jim Henson in the dead end alley where Sesame Street and Fraggle Rock converge with the oncoming impending doom.  Everyday I wake up with the fear someone just moves the needle forward and we’re still in a loop but with a different revolution bringin’ us back to where we started.

I see his name signed on a piece of government mail.  It surreally makes this apocalypse film a reality.  The Guilty Undertaker hits a bowl of salvia.  PJ Banana screams his head hurts.  His hands are sweaty.  And his face is hot, man!  His face is hot!  Before lockin’ himself in the bathroom with a fifth of Hornito’s.  But I know outside my door.  And outside my neighbors’ doors.  Revolution is happenin’ all around us.  People are birthin’ their own cosmos in the midst of space and time and whole damn continuum.  We’re all writin’ our own semi-autobiographical choose your own great American adventure novel.  Somewhere outside all our doors the ducks are on acid, dancin’ their cares away in the puddles and rain.  Somewhere Skaterino is askin’ where the party’s at.  Nicotine stains glistenin’ with childlike excitement and naivety.  Somewhere the angels are screamin’ at every single one of us sellin’ our bodies to the plasma bank.  While tryin’ to make the most of the oncoming impending doom and over inflated cost of dental work.

All of this must pass.  And we all wake up with the same fear that this is the day the scene ends.  This is when we forget how to get to Sesame Street and move to the burbs instead.  We wake up with the fear that someone is gonna skip our needle forward to a new loop on a broken record.  But hopefully someone sees the constellations in the clouds we smoke.  And are comforted by the hope someone out there is sayin’ they’ve heard a lot about us before we even meet ‘em.  But everyday we wake up with the fear that the reassurance our urban legends of cosmos we create are recognized won’t be enough to end the revolutions of the dronin’ loop of our oncoming impending dooms.

[do-not-call-me-meathead]

aposiopesis (part two)

My Orphan Black fic on A03 

part 1   part 3   part 4  part 5  part 6  part 7

@agoddamnsupernova

Scott wasn’t saying anything. Not that it was incredibly odd that he wasn’t talking, but Cosima could tell that there was something that he wanted to say, but was holding it back. She didn’t know if it was something about her and Sarah or about his few hours with Felix, but she could tell that he was keeping it quiet for a reason unbeknownst to her.

“Where did Felix take you?” She asked him to try to get him to start talking. She even poked him a few times, but he didn’t seem to notice. He was lost in his own thoughts.

Scott blushed and answered sheepishly, “A few bars.”

It was vague, but Cosima didn’t want to press for more. Scott had always shown her privacy and respect when it came to her personal life, and she didn’t want to push him away with any of her own meddling.

“Well, thank you. Seriously, dude. Sarah and I… we needed that talk, you know?”

Scott nodded and swiveled in his chair to finally look at her. “You looked really happy when we walked in. Felix told me he was worried about it, but I guess it all went alright? Not that I know what’s really going on. But my point is, I haven’t seen you that happy in a long time.”

Cosima could read between the lines. She knew that he was really saying that he hadn’t seen her this happy since she was with Delphine. She didn’t know if that was exactly true. Delphine made her feel electric and passionate and vibrant. Sarah… Sarah made her laugh and feel warm. It was different.

“Everyone’s having a rough time right now. I think… it was just what we needed at the moment. Did Felix tell you about Alison and Donnie?”

A text early in the morning the next day made Cosima wonder if Sarah ever slept. Not that Cosima hadn’t been awake when she received the text. Kendall’s death had been plaguing her dreams. Sometimes Kendall was replaced by Delphine and she imagined seeing them getting killed over and over and over again. She wondered if Sarah had similar nightmares. 

The texts turned into a phone call. 

"Oi, Cos,” Sarah murmured softly with an almost husky-just-woke-up voice that made her accent sound that much more pronounced. "Hope I didn’t wake you."

“You’re fine, Sarah. Any news? On MK or Donnie or…” 

"I think Alison’s able to visit Donnie today. With Fee and Adele. I’m hopin’ this turns out to be a My Cousin Vinny scenario with Adele and she’s secretly a genius or somethin’. Or it could be total shite. I’ve been warned to keep out of it."

Cosima chuckled at the idea of Sarah actually staying out of something (she didn’t think that was possible). She could imagine Mrs. S begging Sarah to bite her tongue about Adele being the family lawyer. 

“And Felix is going to tell Adele that Alison is your…” 

"Twin. I dunno how we’ll keep all this from her but whatever. Art’s still pissed, though, even if this all because of Neolution. But I can’t really judge Alison with the drugs, though, can I?"

“We all do stupid, impulsive things, right? Isn’t that what you said? None of us are perfect.” 

"Oi!" Sarah shouted in a tone that would have scared any person who didn’t know her well, causing Cosima to snort. "Are you sayin’ I’m not perfect, Niehaus?"

“Yo, my hands are in the air in surrender, Manning. I’m not saying anything.”

Sarah laughed, her voice ringing slightly, causing an echo on the phone. Cosima wished that she could hear the laugh in person. Her laugh always sounded raw, like her voice wasn’t completely used to it. 

"I guess there’s a reason why they call you smart, Cos. Speakin’ of, MK did call. She’s gonna hook us up to Susan somehow. I told her that you need to be involved too. I’d come over to you but… S is under the impression that Neos might be after me."

That didn’t surprise Cosima in the slightest, but it did make her wonder about Sarah’s foster mother. “How’s Siobhan doing?” 

"She’s not angry with me anymore, but she’s angry, Cosima. Not at you or us or anythin’. But at Neos and Evie Cho and Duko. Kira’s ‘specially worried ‘bout her. I dunno, Cos. I feel… like something's happenin’. Or about to happen. I dunno who to trust."

Cosima understood that feeling better than anyone. Trust was something that was easy for the scientist to gain, but once she loses it… She immediately thought of Delphine and Shay and how she hadn’t felt like she could completely trust someone she was sleeping with for years. 

“I know, Sarah. But there’s a bunch of people that are on our side. It’s my turn to be optimistic. We’re going to get the cure and we’re going to destroy Neolution.” 

Sarah sighed with what sounded like tiredness. "Yeah, but at what cost?"

.......

Her screen was blank for a few minutes until she could see everyone. Sarah, Susan, Rachel, and MK. This was what she was waiting for. Scott was by her side, which was reassuring. The two of them had finally come up with an idea for a cure that might actually work.

“Yo, Rachel.”

"Yo."

The rest of the conversation wasn’t as exciting as those first words. She was surprised that Rachel and Sarah hadn’t begun fighting on the video call, but there was something strange happening on Sarah’s end that made Cosima question what was happening over there at the safe house. She was even more caught off guard when Sarah had shut her computer off while they were in the middle of a conversation with Susan and Rachel, not that it seemed to faze them at all.

It was time for her to finally voice her idea. She didn’t want to work with them. She barely wanted to converse with them. But the only way she could actually pull off this cure was with their help.

“So,” Cosima finally began, knowing that she couldn’t hold back any theories if she ever wanted a cure (even if that meant working with their enemies). “I have a couple of ideas.”

........

She had texted Sarah. More than once. She didn’t want to bother her, but she was concerned with how abruptly she ended the video call. She tried to not read too much into it (Sarah was infamous for her unread text messages) but it was almost impossible to not be worried with everything else going on.

And besides that, she needed to talk to her. After hours of debating possibilities for the cure, they could only come up with one possible solution. One possible solution that Cosima actually thought might work. She hated to admit it, but Susan and Rachel were fairly brilliant. They kept up with all her insane thinking.

She was excited to tell Sarah about this new possibility, but she was also terrified. Not only did she need some of Sarah’s eggs, but she would also have to go to the island to actually do the science in a lab that was much more qualified than their own.

The door blasted open, interrupting her thoughts and conversation with Scott about what she would have to bring to the island. She was surprised to find Siobhan standing at the door with a huge ass gun in her hand. On instinct, Cosima almost raised her hands up in the air, but S didn’t look angry at her.

“Duko’s comin’ here. Art and Sarah too. You two are going to stay down here and not say a word. No matter what. Got it, loves? Don’t come back up until someone gets you.”

Cosima and Scott shared a look but they didn’t have the time to ask her about what the hell she was talking about. It frightened them, but they followed her directions. They knew not to go against her orders (that would be a death wish).

Both of them listened intently to the room above them, but they could only hear murmurs of familiar voices. Cosima had expected screaming or yelling or something horrifying as that, but she barely heard a thing until… the indistinguishable bang. Cosima immediately grasped Scott’s arm. After Kendall’s murder, she had hoped that she would never have to hear gunfire again. After a few minutes, the door opened for a brief second, but only for a short enough period for Hell Wizard to enter the basement.

“Duko’s dead,” Hell Wizard announced, looking as pale as a ghost. “Detective Bell and Sarah left.”

Cosima felt like fainting. She thought the idea of anyone else getting murdered would be horrifying, but part of her actually felt a wave of relief to find out that Duko was dead and wouldn’t hurt anyone else in the family. She knew Kendall’s death was only partially avenged. They still had to find a cure and put a stop to Evie Cho.

She felt her pocket buzz.

Sarah Manning: i gotta see kira, i’ll come clean tomorrow, S’ crew will be there in a few to get the body

Cosima Niehaus: Are you OK, Sarah?

Sarah Manning: i’ll update u tomorrow,,, pls dont go upstairs

Cosima thought about texting her back, begging her to tell her everything, but she knew that she couldn’t push her. That it would only push Sarah away from her. Instead, she put her phone down and announced to the others what Sarah had told her.

Scott just shook his head and returned to the computer while Hell Wizard offered a pot brownie. Cosima didn’t refuse.

.........

Someone was shaking her awake. She didn’t know when she fell asleep (or how exactly she fell asleep after last night) but when she woke up, her head ached. Somehow, Hell Wizard must have convinced her to drink too. Not a good mix.

“You okay, geek monkey?” Sarah asked her with pure concern and crossed arms. “Party hard or somethin’?”

Cosima sat up, rubbed her eyes, and realized that it was just the two of them in the basement. “Where’s--”

“When I got here, Scotty boy and Wizard boy were both scrubbin’. They don’t seem too thrilled with my presence.”

Cosima rolled her eyes. “Well, most people don’t like it when you kill someone a few feet away from them. But hey, that’s just a guess.”

Sarah glared at her. “Piss off, Cos. I thought you’d be the last person who’d be angry at Duko’s death.” When the scientist looked away from her, she sighed. "Cosima, S had to. For Kendall.”

“I get it, Sarah,” Cosima snapped. “I just would have liked to know before it happened, you know? A little heads up or something? Because dammit, Sar. I would have liked to not be here when it happened.”

Sarah sat down onto the bed next to Cosima and stared at her own muddy boots. “Loads happened yesterday, Cosima. I know that sounds like an excuse, but it’s true. Alison was threatened by Duko to give up my location in return for not knockin’ Donnie off. The only way to make sure no one died was to kidnap Duko and kill ‘im.”

Cosima raised her eyebrows. Sarah wasn’t wrong. A lot had happened. “But that doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t have called me at the very least. Jesus, Sarah! Why can’t you just let someone into your life so you don’t have to go through all this alone?”

Sarah jumped up and headed for the stairs, ready to run away. Back turned to the scientist, Sarah said, “I should’ve told you. You’re right, Cos. I didn’t mean to keep you in the dark. But I can’t… I fucked that up. Shite. It’s what I do.”

Cosima’s anger dissipated from her body, though she didn’t quite know why. “You’re so dramatic, Manning. And I thought Alison was bad.”

The lighter tone in the scientist’s voice made Sarah turn around. “That’s the worst thing you coulda said to me. She’s a bloody theater actress for fuck’s sake. Though, I did grow up with Fee. Maybe he rubbed off a lil on me, yeah?”

“Just a little. But seriously, Sarah. Why are your communication skills so damn awful?”

Sarah only shrugged and felt her body condense into itself. She didn’t want to talk about herself or her fucked up nature or why she was so shit at life. In fact, she avoided those conversations at all costs. Which was why she normally avoided Cosima most of the time too. Cosima was the only one who wanted to know that kind of stuff about Sarah.

She turned around again and said, “Yeah, well, I dunno, do I? I gotta go see Kira--”

Cosima ran over and grabbed Sarah’s hand as she tried to walk off. She didn’t know what to say when Sarah looked at her, her eyes watering and lips quivering slightly (Cosima wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t been staring so intensely). She hadn’t wanted to piss her off, but she needed answers. Sarah had almost always been an enigma to her. She wasn’t one at first, not with her bitchy attitude and con artist tendencies. But now that Sarah was their leader, their person, she felt like she knew her less and less.

“Sarah… I’m a blunt person. So truthful to a degree that I like end up offending half the people that I’ve met.”

The other woman didn’t know where she was going with this. “Yeah, good for ya, Cos.”

Cosima grumbled. “What I’m trying to say is, I am going to be honest with you. It’s who I am, Sarah. And honestly, I don’t understand you. You act like nothing affects you until it does. You struggle with loving people and yet you’re the most loyal person I know. And you’re always alright, even when you’re not. I just want to know who you are, but you won’t let me.”

Sarah wanted to let go of Cosima’s hand and run. Run far and fast. But her grip was strong and something in Cosima’s eyes told her that this is what the scientist needed, though Sarah didn’t understand why.

“It’s not just you, Cos.” Sarah confided when she couldn’t think of a way out. “Why do you think I pushed Cal to leave? Why do you think I keep S at arm’s length and left Kira? Felix is the only one who’s ever opened me up. And that’s because he forced me. After years of bloody naggin’. It’s got nothing to do with you, yeah?”

That didn’t make Cosima feel any better. She could have guessed all of that. “But why, Sarah? Why can’t you let me in? Let me help you?”

Sarah sighed and wiped her nose that was running with her sleeve. “Because I’m an orphan, Cos. I grew up unwanted. Jumped from foster home to foster home that was either too crowded, too handsy, or too damn lonely. I didn’t have someone like you growin’ up. Or Alison or Cal or anyone. Not until Fee. But even then… Jesus, Cos. Why you askin’ all this?”

Cosima grasped her other hand and tried to smile. “Because I want you to trust me, Sarah. Like I trust you.”

“But I do trust you, Cos. I do. I just wanna protect you from all this shit. That’s why I didn’t tell you about the night I almost ended it with snortin' and drinkin' and shaggin' couples. Or about yesterday. Or all the other shit I’ve kept to myself. You already have so much to deal with. I can take care of everythin’ else.”

Cosima groaned and facepalmed, letting go of the other woman's hands. “But you don’t have to! You’re not the only clone, Sarah! Let someone help you for god sakes!”

Sarah shook her head. “I can’t.”

"Why?"

“Because I deserve this,” She shouted and pounded her chest like she wanted to hit something (and decided to hit herself). “I’ve wasted my shit life doing shit things. Maybe this is the way I can make it better, yeah? You’ve got science, Alison’s got school boards and her plays, Beth was a cop, hell Krystal’s even got cosmetics. I’ve got nothin’. I’m just nothin’ but a shit mother and hustler and lover of abusers.” She fell to her knees before Cosima had a chance to even try to catch her. “Everyone’s better off w’out me.”

“I’m not,” Cosima told her immediately. She crouched down and wrapped her arms around the shaking body. “Listen to me, Sarah. You’re a survivor. Restless, remember? You’re wicked smart. Strong. Brave. You’re my hero. My friend. My… god, Sarah. Do I have to say more for you to understand? We wouldn’t have gotten this far without you. You’re our rock, Sar. Our hope. We need you. I need you.”

Sarah rested her head on Cosima’s lap and held onto the scientist's shirt like she was trying to hold on.

“I feel her, Cos,” Sarah confessed as quietly as she could. “I feel her with me. I see her everywhere. All my dreams are about her. I’m worried that I’m… turnin' into Beth.”

Cosima blinked. She knew that there was a connection between the clones. A connection that couldn't be explained by any science that she was aware of. It was why Kira was unexplainably different. She didn’t understand why Sarah felt connected to Beth (or if anyone else had this feeling), but she wanted to.

“I won’t let that happen. I’ll protect you, just like you protect all of us.”

Instead of telling her about the island and exchange with Rachel like she knew she should have, she dragged Sarah to the bed and commanded her to sleep.

Their fingers intertwined and Sarah, with one last exhale, finally closed her eyes.

...........

Cosima would have never expected Sarah to be cuddly. The lion-hearted girl with the lion’s mane had her body practically wrapped around the scientist’s, her head rested gently into the curve of Cosima’s neck, breathing into her hair. It was surprising and endearing and made Cosima’s heart beat faster than normal. She couldn’t remember being this physically close to someone without sex being involved.

She would have never thought that Sarah would look this delicate as she slept. And she was sure that the punk would be the first to deny it too. She felt Sarah’s warm hands around her body and she didn’t want her to ever peel away. Cosima decided that she could live like this forever. It would be easy, she thought. Simple. The idea of staying this way with Sarah Manning made her grin and smile and it subsequently scared her.

She only felt this way with Delphine.

Sarah had her face. It was obvious and made her shake her head at the idiocy of the immediate thought, but she couldn’t stop staring at it. They had the same face. But it wasn’t the exact same. Or maybe their faces were the exact same and Cosima just imagined little differences because they were incredibly different people with different scars and different stories. Maybe Sarah seemed older because she had done more things and lived a harder life. Maybe Cosima felt younger because she admired Sarah so intensely. But for some reason, Cosima didn’t see Sarah like the rest. She saw her face in Alison, Beth, even Helena. But Sarah?

“Cos, why’re you bloody staring at me?”

Cosima raised her eyebrows. Sarah hadn’t even opened her eyes and yet she somehow knew. She didn’t know if she was freaked out by that or completely intrigued.

“I’d say it was because you’re hot, but I wouldn’t want it to go to your head, weirdo.”

“Narcissist,” Sarah snorted and finally opened her eyes. She moved her body immediately away from the other clone. “Fuck. Didn’t mean to hold you that tight, Niehaus. What time is it anyway?”

Cosima checked the time and sighed. In only a few hours, she was supposed to be in the air on the way to the island and she still hadn’t told Sarah about it.

“Listen, Sarah...” Cosima had already begun to trail off, just looking at the way the punk’s smile faltered and filled with worry and concern. “No, no. It’s nothing bad. Actually, something good. I think… I think we might have figured out the cure.”

Sarah gaped at her and then jumped up out of the bed and shouted, “Holy shite! That’s… that’s… and you’re not playin’? Don’t mess with me, Cos. This is--”

“Real, Sarah. I have good feelings about it. It’s the breakthrough we were all waiting for.”

“That’s bloody amazin’, Cos,” she muttered and ran her fingers through her mane of hair, still gaping in awe with disbelief. “You’re brilliant. I always knew you’d figure it out.”

Cosima felt her stomach knot. She had left out the worst part of the news. On purpose. Knowing Sarah’s moment of pure joy would soon vanish and be replaced with… well… she hoped that it wouldn’t be anger.

She opened her mouth, but Sarah had already started talking again. Shouting, really. In a strangely unlike-Sarah kind of way that would have normally made Cosima extremely thrilled.

“Kira’s gonna jump up and down when she finds out. Honestly, everyone will. Bloody hell. I could just kiss you right now, I’m so fuckin’ happy.”

Sarah was still grinning as if she hadn’t heard the words that came out of her own mouth. But Cosima heard them. Her mouth felt dry and she felt like her heart skipped a beat. She couldn’t stop visualizing it.

Her mouth on Sarah’s.  

She tried to shake it out of her head because she was sure that Sarah hadn’t actually meant that she wanted to kiss her. Besides, Cosima knew that her thoughts would have disturbed the punk. She tried to think about anything else, anything else, but it wasn’t working.

Instead, she blurted, “I need your eggs.”

Sarah froze, no longer jittery, and muttered, “What?”

“For the cure, I mean. We need both Castor sperm and Leda eggs. To make--”

“The original,” Sarah whispered and slouched over slightly. “Yeah, I get it. W-when?”

Cosima scratched her head. “Now would be a good time, actually. I mean, the procedure needs to be done soon. Like really soon.”

Sarah tilted her head with a questioning stare. “What’re you not tellin’ me, Cos?”

Cosima sighed and felt herself wishing that she wasn’t the one who had to tell her this part. “We can’t do this alone, Sarah. We just don’t have the resources.”

Sarah blinked, not connecting the dots yet. “So?”

“So, I’m going to a place with ample resources and… and guidance. I’m going to the island.”

Sarah’s posture immediately changed. She crossed her arms and started pacing around the room, unable to be stopped by any force.

“No. Not with bloody Rachel and Susan.”

Cosima frowned and confessed, “Actually, Rachel’s coming here. With Ira. They’re here to… help. Supposedly. I’m not quite--”

“And you think this is a good idea, ey?” Sarah asked and waved her hands up in her air, getting more pissed off by the second. “Makin’ deals with the devil—“

“Evie Cho and Neolution are the villains here, Sarah!” Cosima interrupted and got up from the bed so that she could walk up to her. “Us not having the cure, that’s our enemy. That’s our killer.”

Sarah shook her head and tried to avoid being near her. “You’ve forgotten all the shit Rachel and Susan have put us through! Cos, I want this cure as much as you do--”

“Really, because I don’t think you’re the one that’s dying, Sarah, even though you sometimes want to.”

Cosima regretted it the second the words flew out of her mouth thoughtlessly. She watched as all the color vanished from the other clone’s face. She and Sarah might not have always seen eye to eye on everything, but she had never made Sarah go silent and pale before. She didn’t know anyone could do that.

Sarah sniffled, backing away from the other woman who tried to reach out, and said, “Yeah, okay, Cos. You got the eggs, yeah? And I’ll play nice with bloody Rachel. I’ll do all this for you, Cosima. Because… Jesus, do I really have to say it out loud? I thought you knew better than anyone that I would do anythin’ to have the sickness instead of you. Jus’ seein’ you… it’s my curse. I’ll give you my bloody eggs.”

She walked away with tears in her eyes. Tears that Cosima knew that she had caused. She slammed her fist into the air and bit her tongue instead of screaming. She didn’t want to scare Scott.