#been wanting to draw a space-y danny for a while

[vlarelythere]

noooo space ghost boy dont go exposing your core like that!!!!

background is supernove 1987a by Nasa

[covencupid]

I Want You (or The Cabin Story)

Fair warning, I wrote this on discord and then copy pasted it onto docs, so if there are some inconsistencies I apologize, but maybe I just like to keep ya on your toes.

BIG THANKS to @mamamemequeen because I pretty much wrote this in the DMs oopsi.

Danny's had his eye on you. He's been finding himself enjoying the times he interacts with you a little too much. He's got to get you out of his system. A little house call. Once that's done it'll be easier for him to go for the kill. Right?

Pairing: Danny Johnson X Fem!Reader. Use of gendered language.

TW/CW: The usual (stalking, manipulation, threats of violence, actual violence) gore, descriptions of torture, corpses, and murder. Psychological horror, child murder (imma need you to hold your judgement on this one, it's not what you think, but it's also not good), hallucinations, descriptions of visual hallucinations.

Tags will be updated as needed, but to be honest I kinda forgot what I put in this.

I will be posting as much as I can in one go, but it's long, so I might have to upload in parts. Yeah, I'm definitely posting it in parts. This is chapter one.

Word Count is 15k+, this was supposed to be a one-shot about y'all fuckin at the drive-in, I don't know how it happened.

Oh one last thing, there is kinda a prequel/backstory part I haven't finished about Danny and "prom". Whatever you think it is, it's probably not gonna be like that.

Sorry one last last thing that I'm seeing now reformatting this from discord to the docs to here is that I kinda wrote Danny and Reader's POV back and forth but a little inconsistent. I will try to make the changes in POV a little clearer with spacing, but I apologize for any confusion!

Your Place // The Cabin // The Woods

~I Want You~

~Chapter One - Your Place~

Danny waited for the perfect night. A storm was coming. The whole neighborhood was snuggled up tight in their big warm beds and you? You were painting your nails while a gorey Japanese B-Movie played on the small tv in your bedroom. You had no idea you were being stalked, hunted like a deer in the forest. 

Danny had to stop and take a look at you first, before he went in. He saw you, legs bent to give you a place to rest your hands while you painted them. God, your legs. He watched the light of the film dance off your legs, following the glow that reached your thighs. How it faded as it dipped to the little peek of your ass from the bottom of your shorts where you sat. He swallowed harder than he meant to. He’d have to readjust himself before he continued inside.

Danny waltzed into your home from the back patio door. Unlocked? Baby there’s a killer on the loose. He stepped into the dark entry way, noting how little the sound from your room carried. That would be useful. He eased into your hallway hearing the lovely lilt of your laughter as he neared your door. The sound made him salivate. He plucked a delicate metal frame of a vintage botanical illustration and let it fall to the floor as he swiftly crossed past your door to the opposite end of the hallway. In a second you were out and making your way for the pesky little frame.

“God you little shit!” you scolded the picture. You had complained to your friend about the framed piece you had been gifted that had a nasty little habit of slipping off it’s nail. Always a bit too heavy. Danny breezed into your room while you degraded the drawing of little flowers. Too easy. You’re just letting me right in, huh?

“And you better keep it down out there!” you called out to the frame as you shut your door on the way back. When your head whipped back to your bed your heart jumped to your throat and fell back down to your gut. A howling ghost stared back at you, reclined in your bed, your nail polish in hand.

“H-how did y-you-” you struggled to find your words and he, seemingly mercifully, cut you off.

“Get in? You let me in, sweetheart. Thanks by the way, really saved me time.” You could feel his smug smile radiating from underneath his mask. Dread chilled your veins. You were frozen by the door. As much as Danny enjoyed the doe-eyed look of fear you were giving him, you were too far for his liking. He pat the bed beside him. “Come on, don’t be shy.”

For a moment it felt like you lost all ability to move. You lifted your right foot to take a step forward but your leg unexpectedly shook. Before you could process your involuntary movement you heard a laugh from the hooded figure lounging in your bed. “How can I have your legs shaking when I haven’t even touched you?”

Heat spread across your cheeks, breaking through the ice in your veins. Indignation rising in your chest.

“You- You’re a murderer! Showing up here in my bed, I’m gonna be scared! It has nothing to do with- I am not-” The words flowed out from your mouth faster than you could string them together cohesively. The sound of his rippling laughter cut you off. You wanted to slap him and wipe off the smug look you knew he was wearing. He crossed his arms

“Hey! Do I look like a threat to you? I’m just hanging out here. Lookin for a manicure, and maybe a better movie.”

You scoffed. “I can see your knife holster from here, not exactly “hanging out” gear. And for the record Blossom of Blood is a cult classic, not that you would know anything about it.”

Danny leaned forward. “First of all, how do you know I’m not just happy to see you? Second, no. You’re thinking of Bloody Blossom, what you’ve got is the cheap knock off made ten years later. Get your facts straight before trying to get all snobby with me.”

You mouth gaped open and closed like a fish. The nerve of this psycho to break into your home and lecture you about your movie choices.

“Hey” The aforementioned psycho snapped at you. Patting the bed next to him more aggressively. You inched your way closer to him. You felt uneasy looking down at him the moment you reached the bed. He sat comfortably nestled in your plush pillows, using a stuffed animal to prop up his arm. You wanted to beat him over the head with it. It would likely be your final act on this earth, but you felt you would feel at peace. “Sit.” There was no space for argument in his tone. Not exactly a command, but still decidedly firm. You sat where he told you to and began to look intently at your hands, gripping each other tight. From your periphery you could see the black mass of his form lean in to loom over you. You felt him delicately take your chin between his thumb and forefinger with his gloved hand. The skin on your arms pricked up with goosebumps. He’s turning your head to look at him as he’s telling you in a sing-song tone “look at me”.

You stare, wide eyes welling up with tears you wanted to keep hidden, into the black holes of his mask. You wish to look so far into them to reach the eyes you felt boring into you. As your eyes remained locked on him, he plucked your hand from your own grip to place the bottle of nail polish in your palm.

“Go on.” he said as he reclined back into your bed, crossing his feet as he extended a gloved hand out at you.

“Uh- you want me to-?” you looked between the bottle of polish and the masked man before you.

“I said I’m here for a manicure, sweets. Come on and make it nice or ya know…” he wiggled the hunting knife in your face. You gasped and grabbed his other hand in an instant. He chuckled as you held his large gloved hand with your comparatively small one. You held the polish right next to it. Does he want me to take off his glove? Paint the fingers? No, right?

Sensing your conflict, he wiggled his fingers in your face. “You can take it off.” He teased.

You put the polish down beside you as you worked the glove off his hand. You placed it on your lap. You felt hot, feeling his eyes rake over you as you gently held his hand, surprisingly warm. The tips of your fingers lightly grazed over his and felt the callouses there. You felt flushed. A killer walks into your room at night… and he tells you to paint his nails? He’s insane. You laid his hand on your lap as you picked the bottle of black nail polish back up and twisted the top off. You held the bottle between your thighs and picked his hand back up slightly. Your hands shook slightly as the applicator neared his nail bed. When you finally laid the first coat down you felt like you could breathe a sigh of relief.

Danny, feeling your unsteady breath reach the top of his hand, blurted out “Don’t fuck up!” quick enough to make your heart jump.

“Fuck! Don’t do that, that’s gonna make me fuck up!” You gripped his hand a little tighter. The feeling of your soft, warm hands on his sent a wave of heat course through him. He chuckled. As you were about to paint the next nail he quickly pulled his hand back and held it in front of you. A small sound of annoyance got caught in your throat. He reached his hand back out to you but pulled it back when you reached for it. You were getting flustered. The way your brows knotted together as the speckles of blush played on your cheeks was just delightful. It was so easy to work you up. He extended his hand out to you again. You stared at him for a second before going to reach back out for him. You looked between his hand and himself in rapid fire succession until you went to get his hand. In an instant he went to whip back his hand but you slammed your free palm into his and gripped his hand firmly until his fingers softly folded over yours. His fingertips rested on the back of your hand. A soft, self satisfied smile danced on your lips as you plucked the applicator back up to paint the next nail. Danny felt the grip you maintained on him. Firm, warm, tender. As you painted the rest of his nails, his thumb slowly ran along the side of your hand, down to graze your wrist. You just needed his thumb, but it continued it’s slow glide along your skin. What were you feeling? Annoyance for sure, he wants something done and won’t even stop moving to let you do it. But the way his thumb caressed the stretch of skin he was able to reach, you felt a flutter in your belly. Stop, what are you even thinking. His hunting knife is dangerously close to his free hand. But should you tell him to stop? Should you try painting it as it teases the delicate flesh of your wrist? Should you tell him he has to stop, so you can paint his nail. And then? Let him continue? Let him run the freshly painted hand up your arm, up to your neck, down to your- Stop. Just. Stop, what are you thinking? This is a monster, in your bed, in your grasp. Think like you want to make it out alive.

Danny can see the muscles of your throat straining as his thumb stroked up and down. It was getting harder to just have you there sitting in front of him. He was beginning to need to close the distance between you. He noted how intently your eyes watched his thumb dance over your skin. You looked entranced, he wanted to see that pretty face up close. Danny thought about his options. The pros and cons flittered about his head but the most overwhelming image was of you, those pretty legs straddling him as his freshly painted hand gripped the creamy flesh of your thigh. Feeling your palm turn clammy, his grip on your hand turned into a vice as he pulled you down to him with a force that wrenched a yelp from your lips. That was nice. He thought. Oh the sounds you could make for him. His other hand went to grip your waist. Your left leg sat between his as the sudden movement had jerked you haphazardly over him.

“What the fuck?” you managed out as you tried to pull yourself up from the place on his chest where your head landed. He smelled like leather and oak. Something else too, slightly sweet mixed with something metallic. Your free hand helped you gain some leverage on the bed. His hand on your waist went down to pat the side of your thigh.

“Move this over, straddle me.” the words made you blush, this time obvious and bright.

You sat uneasily on his lap, scared to put your full weight on him. Modesty? How cute. Danny mused as he grabbed you by your hips and forced you to sit on him. A little gasp escaped you from the force. Danny was drinking you up. The incredulous look on your face, the way your hands fell to his chest for stability. Fuck. Restraint was going to prove much more difficult.

You felt frozen in place. What the fuck. What in the actual ever loving fuck? The screams coming from the movie on your left made it feel all the more surreal. They were pitched up and down and underscored by a synth that harmonized with the wails. Normally this would be your favorite part to point out to the people who you would (force to) watch this with. Usually met with strained smiles and equally strained eyebrows raised to the hairline. You forgave the expression on account of the dizzying fifteen minute chase scene that preceded it. You acquiesced that it was "a bit much" for the casual viewer, but damn was it beautifully shot. God, you wanted to feel normal again. Movies, and painting your nails, your nails. Not the nails of some psycho freak that is making himself comfortable on your bed. He got mud on your sheets. You wanted to reach your hands just a bit forward, just enough to reach his neck and strangle him. But his chest felt broad, sturdy, and his grip felt strong. You didn't like your odds in that fights. He didn't feel threatening though, hunting knife aside. He felt like a boyfriend trying to turn a movie date frisky. God, what are you even thinking. Be normal for the love of everything good.

You defaulted to your brand of normalcy. "The screams in this scene were pitched up and down according to their tone. If you pay attention you can hear that they added a synth to subtly harmonize with the screaming." The words just tumbled out of your mouth thoughtlessly. You weren't even looking at him. Your eyes were locked on the screen glowing bright with scenes of carnage.

For all of the cruelties Danny had doled out, this was true torture. With the glow of the television illuminating her, she looked absolutely divine astride him. He wanted to see those pretty lips part and recite his name like a prayer, instead he heard her mumble out a little fun fact about the movie he was currently ignoring. He wanted to see those lips move again, closer this time. Danny grabbed at her wrists and pulled her down to be inches away from the mask that hid his cheeky grin. Her forearms were resting on his chest, her hands gripped in fists under his chin. "Tell me again, about your movie."

No, no, no. This is not normal, we are actively walking far, far away from normal. Fuck, he's got my hands restrained. His grip is so strong. The angle he had brought you down to made you arch your hips down. Is that? Oh. You felt him. You wanted to ignore it, to ignore him. The masked killer that was terrorizing your town, a man reacting to you atop him. Your body reacting to being on top of him. What are we doing here? What are you even thinking right now. This is not the time for biological responses, he's a killer! He's not a regular guy.

He pat your thigh at your lack of response. "Hello? Movie? Synths and screams?" You felt his fingers flutter at your hip. You tried to collect yourself.

"Right they- uh the director had them mix in synths kind of like a vocoder to play ben-" a sudden movement jolted you out of your train of thought. He had rolled his hips up as he lifted his legs up. The movement, deliberate and drawn out, elicited a yelp in response from you. With the way it had pressed against your most sensitive spot, the squeak you let out had been dangerously close to a moan. A fact that Danny noted instantly.

"Just trying to get comfortable, sorry go on." he acknowledged as he adjusted his grip on your wrists with his left hand while giving your hip a reassuring pat with the other.

Danny's game with his little pet was having an unexpected effect on him. He had anticipated getting a bit worked up with you. A little edging, if you will. Just playing with his food, nothing serious. But the more Danny played this game, the more he felt he didn't want it to end. Looking at her struggling to form words, he wanted to watch her forget the entire English language underneath him. He let his right hand meander back up to her waist, the glove that remained encompassing the last of his strength of will to not flip her onto her back and fuck her right there. No, no, Danny. Let her talk, or at least try to.

What were you talking about? Right, the fucking movie. "The...movie vi- the cinematographer on this... he only made car commercials before this." You felt him chuckle. A rumble you felt pass through your own chest, down to your belly, down further.

"That's not what we were talking about." You could hear his smile through the mask. You were stumped. You felt trapped in his gaze. Your mind felt like it was turning to mush by the second. "The synths? The vocoder...?"

Right, fuck. What was I thinking? You wanted to disappear. You wanted to this all to be some sort of nightmare. Or wet dream. You felt your legs turn to jelly.

"The vocoder, yeah. It was added in underneath the actor's lines because he wanted to make the dialogue sound like it was coming from hell." Your hips ached to move ever so slightly, to tease him back. Getting comfortable, my ass. Nothing about this felt innocent, of course it wasn't. He broke into your home and made you straddle him. What exactly did you think this was going to be?

Focus on her words, Danny. What's she saying? She could be speaking in tongues by now for all he cared. All that mattered was the way he felt her belly press down on him as she breathed and how her legs had splayed further to accommodate him. Danny didn't exactly have an end goal for this night, but when he felt her hips rock a bit her fate was sealed in stone. This night would end, but their game wouldn't. Besides he still had another hand she needed to paint. He met the movement of her hips by using the hand at his waist to help prop both of them up. The hand that held her wrists now supporting her back. The space between them smaller than ever before. He could almost taste her. He had to. He used the thumb of his gloved hand to hike up his mask up to reveal his jaw. Without a second thought, he held the back of her head and pulled her into an all consuming kiss.

You had thought you made a mistake, trying to match him. You went to far, goaded the bull. Now he was going to kill you. When he hoisted the both of you up you thought he was about to deal his killing blow, maybe slash your throat as you sat upright. The strike never came. Instead, he stopped your heart another way. It had barely registered in your mind that you were actually seeing his lips, seeing a part of his face, before they came crashing down on you. He had taken advantage of the way your mouth gaped open in shock when he had lifted you up to let his tongue explore the inside of your mouth. It was far more pleasant than death. He was kissing you like he wanted to devour you whole but had to restrain himself. It would be easier to just let him, and just sit there numbly in his hands. But the way his tongue darted in your mouth you felt compelled to chase after him. Your tongue met his with an equal measure of primal instinct. You wanted to familiarize yourself with the taste of his mouth.

Damn this girl. Danny wanted her to fight him on this. Not for the sake of having her struggle, though there was a measure of thrill in that. He wanted an excuse to be annoyed with her. To want to be done with her. Instead she paid him back in kind, her hands resting on his chest inching up to his shoulders. This night was supposed to make it easier for him to kill her off later. Get his rocks off a bit without leaving evidence to find later. Instead that raw, needy feeling that built up inside him when he saw her only continued to grow. This hunger would not be sated, could not be. It would only continue to fester the more he was apart from her. The only way to keep it under control would be to keep her within arms reach. No distance to make the heart grow fonder, only tight, close proximity to make the crushing feeling turn suffocating. Then he would be tired of her, then he could be rid of her. But for now he had to get her out of here, back somewhere he could really stretch his legs. It almost pained him to break from a kiss so decadent. She wore a dreamy, almost dumbstruck expression, with a flushed face and plush, swollen pink lips to match. He wanted to drink her up.

"After all that you're gonna think I'm a real dick for this, but you'll learn to forgive me." Her drowsy expression gave way to a look of confusion. A silent question answered by an equally wordless blow to the side of her head. Light's out. "Sorry, doll. Gotta move the sleepover to my place."

[confusednarcissistwrites]

okok hi so basically I’ve been working on this lil blurb but idk I think maybe you might be much much better than me for it , ur writing slapssss, but basically it’s a Daniel Middleton piece based off the song Lost by frank ocean where the reader is part of their dealing ring and is in love w danny and gets too wrapped up in the business but danny is too busy with his crush on mckayla to notice ? Idk I know it’s super specific but just a thought I had

OKAY SO

I took a LOT of liberties with this request, but I did it for a reason. PLEASE WRITE THIS FIC. I guarantee that no one else could write it better than you, okay? Also, I’m SO sorry this took me ages to finish and apologies to all my other requests as well. I’m really going to try and get more work out to you guys in the next few weeks.

Alright, without further ado, I hope you enjoy this raunchy ass fic lmao

Third Wheel (D.M.)

(smut, angst, blood, violence, cheating, cursing)

The Bonnie and Clyde of Cape Cod.

You and Hunter Strawberry had been together for as long as anyone could remember. Even in elementary school, you two had reigned over your peers with an iron fist; no one fucked with either of you in fear of pissing off the other. As you both got older, your relationship progressed from a platonic partnership to a romantic one. This often entailed hot and heavy sightings at the drive-in, and mangled noses on faces of guys who decided to look at you just a little bit too long.

You had been happy. He was your constant. You both had an undying loyalty to each other as business partners and lovers.

But then came Danny Middleton.

Danny was a scrawny boy from nowhere who didn’t belong anywhere. Perhaps it was fate that he would meet Hunter that hideously hot day in 1991 in that little convenience store. People didn’t notice Danny until he started running around with Hunter.

You were hesitant, bitter even that Hunter let someone else on the team without talking to you first. You were more of a distributor than a seller, but you had thought you were more involved than to be excluded. The more you heard about Danny, the less Hunter asked you to make drop-offs. You felt you were getting wedged out.

The first time you met Danny was a whirlwind. He’d claimed a cousin of his had a hookup across town, but the rendezvous went south quickly. You vividly remember stepping in between the two, your fist meeting the side of the guy’s jaw with a sickening crack. He didn’t do much to fight back as he was pretty doped up, but you weren’t about to take any risks when he pulled a gun from his belt. Danny sat cornered and slack-jawed as he watched you wail on the man he’d been threatened by just moments before. Once you got him onto the ground, you knocked the pistol from his hand and straddled his middle, slamming the butt across his face. Adrenaline blurred your vision as blood splattered, your relentless attack not stopping until he quit moving. You lifted yourself up, meeting Danny’s terrified gaze for a brief moment before walking out of the house, him tailing behind you.

Hunter was furious when you both got back into the car. “What the fuck happened?” You were both visibly bloodied.

“I took care of it. Let’s go,” you replied calmly, handing him the piece. Hunter looked up at you and then at Danny in the back seat, handing him the gun wordlessly before speeding back to the garage.

When you got back, you sat up on the counter, your head back against the cupboards. Hunter dabbed at your swollen knuckles with a soapy cloth. “You okay, doll?” he asked quietly, looking up at you through his blonde lashes.

“Mhm,” you nodded, watching as he bandaged you up. He pressed a kiss to your cheek before helping you down and walking with you to the seating area where Danny was sat, his head in his hands still lost in thought. Hunter sat down on the sofa and you laid down with your head in his lap.

“You will never pull anything like that again. You hear me?” Hunter’s voice was calm and chilling. “Do you understand me?”

Danny nodded, standing up. “We’ll find another way.”

“Are you even fucking listening to me? I just said no-“

“No, look, you’re upset, I get it. But we’ll find a way to work this out if you just let me-“

“Drop it, Middleton. Go home.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, willing the pounding in your skull to ease. You listen as Danny walked out of the shop, the bell chiming above the door as he left.

“He’s reckless,” you mumbled, opening your eyes to look up at Hunter.

He just nodded, his fingers brushing over your collarbone as he stared into space in thought.

You didn’t like it. Nothing would change your mind. The business was for you and Hunter, and that was it. Danny was only trouble. And Hunter probably would have agreed with you if the next few days had played out differently.

••••••

In the course of a week, the group was making quadruple what you were before. Contacts were made, deliveries were driven, and money was counted in a circle every night, going three ways. It was the kind of summer we watched in movies, and now you were living the dream. The three of you spent evenings together getting high surrounded by cash; it was unreal. You all grew quite close through inebriated conversations about life and the world. You felt you could rely on either of them for anything you needed at any time.

It was because of this you didn’t speak up despite your growing insecurity in this situation. You’d felt Hunter rarely had time for you anymore, as though you were becoming a third wheel to him and Danny despite your relationship. But who were you to allow your insecurities to get in the way of the biggest break he’d had in his life? So you stayed quiet. Perhaps that was why the resentment building in you grew so poisonous.

You and Danny often jabbed at each other, usually scuffling over little bullshit that didn’t really matter. Hunter acted as a mediator when things got too heated, much to your irritation. He rarely defended you, sometimes even siding with Danny when he was feeling ballsy. You could feel the problems piling up. The rift between you and your boyfriend growing wider, and you couldn’t help but to notice that everything had been fine between you until little Middleton had shown up.

••••••

It was an especially hot August day when everything went to shit. It seemed everyone in town was a bit more irritable when the sun was beating down incessantly, an unbeatable oppressor. You could feel sweat against the small of your back, even as the wind whipped through your hair as Hunter drove across town with the top down. Danny was sprawled out in the backseat, his feet hanging over the rear passenger door. It irritated you to see him take up so much space like he owned the place. Granted, pretty much everything he did irritated you.

You arrived back at the shop, this week’s product in hand. You placed the duffle down on the coffee table, Hunter unzipping it and reaching in to retrieve an order he had to run. “I’ll be back in an hour. Try not to kill each other,” he called, hiding the weed in his bag and heading back out to the car. This wasn’t unusual, but Danny usually left right away, either running his own deliveries or just getting away from you. But today he lingered.

“Y/N, can I talk to you about something?” He sat on the arm of the couch while you fixed a pot of coffee, your back to him.

“Uh, sure?” you replied, not turning to face him. Despite knowing practically everything about each other, he rarely made conversation with you.

Danny looked down at his hands, fumbling with his fingers for a beat before speaking. “Well, you see, I just- I have this thing for this girl. And- well, not just any girl. She’s kinda just-“

“Spit it out, Middleton,” you sang, quickly losing patience with his childish ramblings. Was he seriously coming to you for girl advice of all things?

“Fuck,” he sighed frustratedly. “It McKayla. I’ve been.. talking to her, more or less, for awhile now and-“

He’s interrupted by your laugher. You finally turned around, hands behind you against the counter as you shook your head at him. “McKayla? As in McKayla Strawberry? Are you kidding?”

He gives you a look of offense, his brow drawing together. “Yes, that McKayla. Why else would I be talking to YOU about this?”

You shook your head, pinching your brow. “You’ve done a lot of stupid shit, but this really takes the cake.”

“Listen, I just-“

“After all Hunter has done for you? You’re really going to throw that all away for some girl?”

“She’s not ‘some girl,’ okay? I really like her!” Danny insisted, standing up off of the couch defensively.

“You’re right; she’s your so-called best friend’s sister! I know for a fact he’s told you to stay away from her. But you can’t keep in your pants can you?” You were angry. After all the time you’d spent being loyal to Hunter, he was ignoring you for this kid who wouldn’t even respect him enough to stay away from his little sister.

“This isn’t even about McKayla is it?” Danny jabbed, stepping closer as he threw his hands up. “You’re just jealous I’m into someone and not following you around like a puppy like everyone else, huh? Is that why you’re so shitty to me all the time? Are you into me?”

You snapped, your white-hot temper taking control. Without hesitation, you stepped up into his face, your hands clenched right at your sides. His eyes widened, reflexively stepping back, but you follow. “Shut the fuck up. You have no idea what you’re doing,” you growled, poking him in the chest.

“Just admit you want my attention, Y/N.”

The resonance of your hand colliding with his cheek travelled through the room before you even could think. His back was against the wall, his eyes round, jaw hanging slack, and his hand on his cheek. You both stood and stared at each other for a moment, the sound of the slap still resonating in your ears along with your pumping blood as you waited for him to move. He knew this and unabashedly glanced down at your lips.

You reached out, wrapping your fingers around his throat. You’re not sure why you do it, but you were unable to resist; you needed to put Danny Middleton back in his place. What you didn’t expect was the full-fledge moan that left his parted lips. It startled you for a moment before going right to your head, power-lust settling into your veins as thick as syrup. You smirked, pressing a bit harder to watch the way the scrawny boy’s eyes fluttered and his jaw clenched. He opened his mouth to speak, but you weren’t having any of it.

You crashed your lips into his. Despite knowing there was no turning back from this, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. ‘Take that, Strawberry.’ Danny’s hands flew up to grip your hips, your kiss all tongue and teeth. It was ravenous, angry, and made you ache between your legs in a way Hunter never had, in a way that came from you knowing you were in control.

“Y/N.. what about.. Hunter?” Danny managed between kisses. He was sweating bullets, but the tent in his jeans told you he had no intention of making you stop.

You pull back half an inch, your grip returning around his throat. “I don’t want to hear anything out of that fucking mouth other than ‘yes’ and ‘no’, am I understood.

He listened to you with doe eyes, pupils blown out. “Yes, Miss.”

You smirked, leaning in and catching his bottom lip between your teeth and gave it a tug. “Good boy,” you praised.

He practically went limp at your words, another whimper escaping him. You both moved in a blur back to the couch, stripping clothes off with each stumbling step. You felt drunk without a drop of liquor in your system. Tomorrow would bring hell, and you knew it, but you didn’t care. All that mattered was then and there and making a statement.

You fell heavily into his lap, both of you clad in just your undergarments. Danny’s length prodded insistently at your thigh, and you remember recognizing that he was a lot bigger than you had anticipated. His hands gripped your waist while you ground your hips against his, kissing him ferociously. You listen intently as soft moans are pulled from his throat.

“What is it, Danny Boy? Never touched a girl before?” Your words were snide, full of contempt despite the ache that was building in you for more. His eyes fluttered, rolling back into his head in response.

You just smirked, shifting down to yank his boxers down. “Well, well, well. Looks like this is where you get all your nerve, huh?” His erection stood rigid and leaking against his navel, visibly aching to be touched. Danny bit down on his tongue, his hands tugging at his hair as he fought to keep quiet. It was bad. It was so so bad, but he knew there was no stopping you; not that he had the willpower to make you stop anyway.

“I asked you a question.”

“Y-Yes, Miss.”

You made quick work of your bra and panties, feeling his eyes on you the whole time. When you finally looked back, you were greeted by this desperate, open-mouthed, horny expression taking over his face. Feeling a surge of power run through you, you placed yourself in his lap. Danny let out a soft cry and his hands flew to your hips as you rocked your hips, sliding his length between your slick folds. It was then you came back to yourself, realizing what exactly you were about to do. It took weeks for you to realize it, but you knew your life had slipped out of your hands. Never again.

Raising your hips, you slid him inside of you. You cursed softly as the very welcome stretch made you see stars. “Fuck, good boy,” you praised.

Danny was a fucking wreck. He was gasping for air, hands gripping your hips in fear of moving anywhere else, but needing to touch you. Your praises turned him on in a way he didn’t know about before. He was reduced to a trembling mess, and you loved every second of it. If someone had held a gun to his head asked him about Hunter right then, he wouldn’t have even recognized his name.

You closed your eyes and began to rock your body, focusing on the feeling of him inside of you. He was forbidden fruit: a new sensation you’d thought you’d never experience. Little did you know how much was out there for you outside of Hunter. Your palms laid splayed out against his chest as you found your rhythm, both of you cursing like sailors.

Eventually, Danny built the courage to shift his hips, beginning to meet your thrusts with his own. You cried out, feeling him brush against your most sensitive places. “Danny, fuck, that feels so good,” you whined, hair falling around your face and swaying in time with your shared movements.

“Y/N..” Danny groaned, an edge of warning to his voice. His hands now roamed over your middle, thumbs brushing against the undersides of your breasts.

“Are you gonna cum? You gonna cum in your partner’s girl?” you taunted him cruelly.

Danny gasped, letting out a higher moan. “F-fuck, yes. I’m gonna cum,” he warned.

You reached between your bodies, rubbing quick circles against your clit. Whimpers of your own increased, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the small room.

That was when Hunter walked back through the door.

[spacesuitsforemergency]

Ultimate Spiderman: Period Headcanons

Peter Parker

- His best friend is MJ, and he’s been around Ava long enough to know what’s up

- He knows what to do, but asks your preferences just to make sure

- He’ll put on your favorite show, grab ice cream from the freezer and heat up a water bottle for you, then cuddle with you in bed

- Will gently rub your temples or scalp if you have a headache

- He gets a little embarrassed at the grocery store, especially when he doesn’t know what kind of pads or tampons you use. Has to text you from the store

- At school when Sam says something offensive at all and you get really angry all of a sudden he just sits back and watches the show

- Holds you back if you start swinging at him tho

- Covers for you in gym class if you hurt too bad

- Constantly asks if you’re okay, if you need anything

Sam Alexander

- Has not a single clue what a period is

- Like yeah he lived with his mom and sister but his sister was too young and his mom never talked about it or anything

- So when he sees you curled up in bed he says ‘you better not get me sick’ and you nearly rip his head off

- You yell at him that you’re on your period and he’s like ‘your what??’

- You think he’s joking at first and throw a pillow at him

- When you realize he’s serious you sigh and explain what it is

- ‘So...you’re telling me women bleed for a week straight and don’t die?? I don’t??? Get it??’

- ‘Wait is that why Ava gets moodier than usual sometimes??’

- ‘No sweetie that’s just Ava’

- He offers to go to the store for you, despite not knowing what to get

- He calls Ava as soon as he’s out of earshot, and she gives him a list of what you’d usually get someone on their period

- Makes the cashier swear to secrecy

- When he gets back to you he tosses the stuff in and runs, cause you’re already mad at him for walking too loud. You have a headache, show some courtesy damn it!

- 5 minutes later you call him in and ask him to cuddle and he’s like ‘but?? You just? Kicked me out??’

- ‘SAMUEL JUST COME CUDDLE WITH ME!’

Luke Cage

- The one who’s not embarrassed or grossed out in the slightest

- Draws a hot bath for you while he runs to the store

- When he gets back you curl up in a pile of blankets on the couch and watch sappy rom coms

- He kinda zones out during them, and just awkwardly rubs your shoulder like ‘there, there’ when you cry

- Deals with the mood swings like a champ. One minute you’re all over him? Great. The next you’re yelling at him for looking at you a certain way? He’ll give you your space

- Will remind you to take your pain meds on time and drink plenty of water

- If you bleed through the bed he just simply washes the sheets

- ‘I’m sorry Luke I didn’t mean to-‘

- ‘It’s not your fault, babe. I’ll make you breakfast? Anything you want’

Danny Rand

- Completely Clueless™️

- Wasn’t raised with many women around, only knows the basics from sex Ed class

- When you wake up in a pool of blood he’s like ‘WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU OKAY?!’

- ‘Oh, it’s just my period. Sorry I got blood on the sheets, I didn’t mean to’

- ‘Oh your period? Thank god, I thought someone stabbed you in your sleep. And don’t worry about it’

- Tells you to take a hot shower while he changes the sheets, then will go downstairs and make breakfast

- Burns the chocolate chips pancakes but you don’t care

- If you have school that day he’ll try to make sure no one upsets you or anything

- After hero business he comes home and finds you crying over a Taco Bell commercial

- ‘Y/N? What’s wrong?’

- ‘I don’t know!’

- Confused but comforts you nonetheless

- Gives amazing back massages

- Overall he’s pretty chill and sweet about it, just wants to make sure you’re okay

Ava Ayala

- You realized you had both synced up

- You just both lay in bed in agony together

- Passing a tub of ice cream back and forth

- She’s not a romance movie type, she likes watching action movies to cheer her up. But if you like them she’ll sit through a couple with only mild complaining

- She gets angrier when she’s on her period, so she snaps at the boys’ bickering way more often and more violent

- A monster on the battlefield

- The only time she regrets that her costume is white

- ‘Oh Ava you have blood on your costume-‘

- ‘I killed someone’

- ‘Here’s a tampon-Wait What?’

- ‘Oh! Right! My period! Yeah I didn’t kill anybody’

- If Sam so dares look at her or Peter opens his mouth she’s ready to fight and you have to hold her back

- ‘Ava my boobs are so sore!’

- ‘Welcome to the club’

- ‘Ava!’

[georgemackayhey]

Worth Fighting For (Part: Two)

summary: You’re entirely certain George is the one. So he hasn’t got to put up much of a fight… but in a way, that’s all he knows to do.

a/n: Now is a good time to mention that I know nothing about boxing. My only refreance is a movie about mma and one nights worth of basic research. But all that matters is I'm having buckets of fun writing this! The angst starts to creep in this chapter. Let me know what yall think!

w/c: 4k

Part 1

───※ ·❆· ※───

It was the end of an exceptionally long weekend. You'd managed to throw together last minute choreography for the kids school play, taught a wedding party how to waltz, and helped a friend nail her audition for a foreign dance company.

It was easy as ever, with a broken hand. But everything else was increasingly difficult. You were still getting used to using your one, lame hand to do laundry and cook dinner. But at least you could still dance.

There was nothing better than pumping the  music and moving until it ached. Until all you had to worry about was locking up and racing home to shower, and all the things you'd been anxious about all week had long fled to the very back of your mind.

But the weekend was over, and you didn't have an excuse to stay in the studio now that all the kids who came to learn were long gone. But you had a perfectly sound reason for taking longer to do you post class stretches. As you took your sweet time sliding into your jacket and switching out the lights, you kept your eye on the window to the hallway. You tried not to look too obvious, but there was a silly, desperate hope inside of you; to see George.

The gym door remained shut, raucous music thumbing from somewhere deep inside, as you dragged your feet out in the hall. You tried not to look like you were casting glances over your shoulder, or seem too disappointed when you found no one there. When the door to your studio was locked and your adrenalin from class dwindled away, you went on your way.

And while you tried not to think about the funny feeling you got in your chest at the thought of George, you shoved open the door to the parking lot. The sky was a bleak grey and a chill crept past your layers of brightly colored clothes.

"Took you long enough." A voice crept close over your shoulder, causing you to spin around with a gasp.

George was leaning against the stone of the building, the hood of his pale jacket up over his head, strong arms crossed over his broad chest.

"How's your hand?" He asked, like he really cared to know.

"Oh, I'm managing." You decided with a smile, happening to glance at George's. "How's yours?" You asked, noticing bruises on his knuckles that weren't there the weekend before.

George seemed confused, for a beat, before glimpsing down at his fingers.

"Oh, this is nothing." He said. And before you could choose one the dozens of questions you had, you decidedly moved on.

"What are you waiting on?" You asked in a nervous giggle, glancing to his car a few parking spaces away.

"You, obviously." George rose a brow and reached for his bulky canvas bag that rested near his feet. You watched his lean figure shift as he carried the weight over one shoulder and stepped closer.

"Come on, It's my turn to treat you to DeAngelo's." He explained, walking past you to his sleek vintage car. The familiar screech of the city bus caught your ear, and you looked over to notice it stall to a stop, before you followed George's lead.

The ride was quiet. You spent most of the time pretending to be distracted by your chipping nail polish. Even in his silence George was captivating. You couldn't be sure if he'd noticed you stealing glances at him as he drove; but every time you did, you wouldn't let yourself look long.

You couldn't be sure why stepping foot into the diner to get felt different. Maybe it was because you weren't alone. You were mixed among dozens of other dinner parties and the combined white noise of everyone's collective chatter set you at ease. You weren't as shy to let your gaze linger on George as he studied you across the same booth as before.

And much like then, your conversations started mildly. He asked what you were going to order, and you tried not to feel too embarrassed for listing off the same meal. But he grinned and said he was going to do the same. And right as your conversation opened up to grow ever deeper, you were interrupted.

"Miss y/n!" An excited, drawn out greeting rang from a small boy who was busy bouncing your way. You didn't need to turn to know it was little Louis. He was one of your most loyal students. And though you'd never say it to anyone, the small kid was your favorite budding ballerina. Perhaps because he cared so unabashedly for you, too.

All four feet and fifty pounds of the curly headed boy crashed into your side of the booth, his little arms reaching to wrap you in a hug. You let out a surprised gasp and turned to try and greet the boy as soon as you realized he'd appeared.

"Today was lot's of fun. Can we do more big jumps next week?" The boy broke away from you to peer up, big brown eyes full of hope. You chuckled a little and assured the boy you'd planned on it. That's about the time his mother shuffled over, apologizing for her eight years old interrupting your dinner.

"It's alright." You assured, sheepishly glancing over to George who was sat back watching on with a coy grin. The kind of smile that- if you were younger and less confident, might have made you insecure. But knowing the little you did about George, you read no mocking in his expression. Only something more vulnerable you couldn't quite make out yet. You wondered all of a sudden just how exactly to get him to open up, and wondered hopelessly if you'd ever get the chance.

"I'm always glad to see you, Louis." You grinned at the boy, still glancing up to you in the sweetest way. "He's never missed a class in two years." You bragged to George now, who let his grin stretch a little wider.

Then you got the good sense to introduce the guy across from you. You gave his name away, and mentioned that he taught at the gym at Fit For All. Louis mother seemed to light up at the mention.

"Oh, you're Geogre? You know my oldest son, Danny. He talks about you all the time." The woman whose dark roots were nearly longer than the dyed blonde bits of her hair gleamed, and Geogre seemed to glow, too.

"Oh, yes. He's always at the gym, it seems." George sat up a little, peering to the woman Louis belonged to. The mother explained that her eldest wanted nothing more than to grow up to become a boxer. But a shoulder injury at the tail end of highschool ruined his chances. So Danny traded boxing for running, and had completed several marathons since.

George said the guy was great at encouraging the kids who frequented Fit For All, no matter which lesson they showed up for. It was your turn to smile and watch as George and his friends mother gushed over the guy who wasn't even around.

When Louis was coaxed from your side back to his mothers he gave you one final hug and raced her to a table across the room. A silence fell between you and George once more, but it was more familiar than ever. George was the first to break it.

"He was sweet." George smiled, reaching for his drink.

"Must run in the family." You pointed out. "I didn't realize Louis even had a brother."

"Danny is a good guy. He always knows just what to say. Not only to the kids, but to me too, some days." George let out a little laugh. A nervous, slightly bittered chuckle. And while it made you realize a little something more about him, it added to the complexity of George all the while. This guy was going to drive you nuts in no time. You'd let him.

///

And that's how it started. Every Friday, around the same time, you'd pile into George's ride and one of you would cover the bill for DeAngelo's.

Sometimes you got held up, trying to help a girl learn her steps for the schools annual talent show. You'd find Geogre had lingered in and made himself at home on the folded up mats near the door. You caught his gaze in the wall length mirror and tried to hide your blush while you danced on.

Other times, he'd be running behind. You shuffled outside to find George in the middle of what seemed to be a serious conversation with a familiar guy around your age. It was Danny, and you were introduced for the first time like you'd been friends forever. You found the rumors about the guy were true, even in the first few minutes of meeting. Danny mentioned his little brother mentioning you nonstop, and said how he'd been waiting to put your face to your name. George ended the small talk by reaching over and nudging you toward his car.

The slight touch of his arm against yours made you feel different than the only other time he'd touched you before. The last was when he'd rushed in to monitor your injured hand. And you couldn't feel much of anything. But now, when George leaned into you, pushing you away all the while, your nerves seemed to dance on end. But Danny's pleasant goodbye tore your thoughts away, and you waved your working hand to the guy and hoped out loud to see more of him.

Then George drove you to DeAngelos for another week in a row.

///

You hadn't really realized how much time had passed until snow started to fall. Granted the weather seemed to change much earlier than it ever had years prior. But it changed all the same, and it seemed to draw attention to the tradition you'd made of going to dinner with George.

You sat in the same spot almost everytime. And you talked about the same sorts of things. There were always complaints shared, about the growing cold, and the things that held up your week. There was always some kind of exciting news to share, about a new movie coming to town, or the things you'd accomplished during work. You even spoke about things you hadn't been keen on discussing with most other people. Like your relationship with your family and the scariest parts of highschool. Because George asked. He asked you more about yourself than he ever dared to mention his own stories.

"When are you gonna let me come watch you teach kids how to throw a punch, huh?" You teased. George had lingered in the doorway to catch the tail end of a handful of your lessons, by now. And he was always done for the night, when yours ended early.

As you ate your usual dinner, he kept his demure smile and rolled his dazzling blue eyes your way, before changing the subject. And you wanted nothing more than to listen to him talk, so you let your question go unanswered.

"We've been coming here a lot." He pointed out, plain and simply. But the comment made your heart feel like it had grown a layer of steel , sinking ever so slightly.

"Would you rather us go someplace else?" You wondered in a light manner, trying not to seem let down at the possibility of ending your tradition.

"Course not. I'm saying I like coming here." George smiled, then added, "With you."

You bit back your grin from spreading too widely and let the familiar bout of quiet follow.

///

But the next weekend was different and it was all your fault. Your water heater broke on Tuesday. And your landlord called back Wednesday night to say he couldn't help you fix it till he came back to town next week. You had to postpone Friday's class when you realized you were in too deep trying to fix the issue yourself. And while you fiddled with the matter with your non broken hand, a deep regret flooded your system when you realized George would miss you and you had no way of letting him know.

You worried all evening at the thought of standing him up. You crossed your working fingers that he'd still be keen to see you the next weekend; and tried to accept the fact that since your tradition had been broken, the thin connection you shared with George might now forever be lost, too.

By the end of your next week, your landlord was still off on holiday, and had taken to ignoring your texts asking for help. How hard was it for him to call a local mechanic to send your way before he left to go tanning for the day, or whatever?

And as you bared another cold shower and grumpily hurried to head to the studio, your power went out.

"No, no no!" You whined, flipping a light switch a dozen times in a row and wishing and hoping and praying everything would come back to life. You took a deep breath, rushed to the closet where the panel that held your home's power was, and were disappointed to find flipping a few switches there did absolutely nothing. You didn't have time to worry. You couldn't let your kids down again.

Some of them were already lingering outside of the studio when you rushed in, stomping away snow. Little Louis actually cheered and dashed your way for a hug, like he did. You smiled, set at ease by the child's sweet nature.

Then you taught him and a dozen others to dance, and let your worries fade away for an hour and a half. George hadn't slipped into the studio when the clock ticked past your usual meeting time. You tried not to let yourself feel disappointed when your kids shuffled home. You only wrapped up for the day and started to worry over your situation all over again.

But as you locked the doors to the studio, Danny was making his way out into the hall, and George was trailing close behind.

"Hey kid!" Danny glowed, turning to greet you in the dim hall. You shot him a pleasant smile, despite everything, trying not to catch George's gaze. Because his expression was so familiar, now. And he was looking right at you in a way you realized he so often did. And you'd let him down last week, and you had to do it again, now.

He shouldered past Danny as the bulky fellow seemed to decide to go home. He gave you both a quick goodnight before making his way toward the heavy doors. Then you were left alone with the guy you hadn't stopped thinking of since the time he held an ice pack to your knuckles.

"Where've you been?" He asked, like he was much more concerned than disappointed. And while that was nice, it wasn't enough to stop you from wanting to cry a little. God you hoped you didn't look the way you felt.

"I'm so sorry I missed last weekend." You started, shifting in place, under George's study on you. "My water heater broke. Then my power went out. So, now I've got to go home and figure out what to do. I hate to miss another one of our dinners but-"

"What do you need?" His question interrupted your rambles to a halt. You held your breath and looked to the guy for a curious beat before explaining yourself.

"Well I'm just going to grab some things and find a place to stay. Probably just that Motel on Second Street. My landlord is such a-"

"The Second Street Motel?" George grimaced, like he had memories of the place he wasn't over yet. "That place is a dump. And they'll over charge you. Why don't... if you'd like... well you could stay with me." George's confident speech dwindled into something meek as he spoke on. It made you chuckle a little, the way he'd surprised you when you least expected it. And when a moment of quiet passed as you searched his stunning blues eyes, George spoke up more assuredly.

"Only if you want."

"Only if you're sure." Your smile fell away as  dozen of nerves rose to your throat as you responded.

"Come on." He nodded, turning to the door in the same fashion he'd always do when you were headed to the one of the only other places you'd gone together. His ride to the urgent care was courteous. His company at DeAngelos was kind. And his offer for you to spend the night was an all new layer of generosity that made you feel the way you did when he touched you a few weeks ago.

///

He waited in his car while you used the flashlight on your phone to throw a few things in a bag. Between your toothbrush, your night clothes, and some things for the morning, you forced yourself not to think about what was happening. You just urged your feet to move and tried not to seem too excited to settle back into George's car.

He drove to his place in a silence that felt different than all the other times before. And when you stole a glance over to him, you could have sworn he'd just turned away from looking over to you. The thought danced through your mind till his vintage ride pulled to a stop outside a row of townhouses. They were just a few roads away from your own, in a quiet, bleak part of town.

George held open his front door as you stepped in from the cold, a baby blue backpack full of essentials in your clutch. And all of your expectations for what Geogre's home might have looked like were not only unmet, but left you with more questions about the guy than ever.

The home was neatly decorated in pale colors. Plants and picture frames decorated every shelf and corner, and the dish towel in his kitchen matched the tea kettle on the stove. It was reminiscent of a much older person's space, with a vibrant charm of someone much more spry. You padded to the cozy living room as Geogre disappeared around a corner, leaving you to think up a dozen more questions about the fellow you were determined to get to the bottom of.

As you eased onto the navy sofa and abandoned your bag, a light came on in the hall and an old orange cat came prancing toward your feet. You glanced down to the pet as it meowed up to you, and stretched to balance against your knees. You cooed, reaching to pet it, before the animal jumped into your lap.

"That's Sadie." George spoke, stepping into the room, slowly making his way toward the sofa. "I was going to apologize for her disregard for personal space but you don't seem to mind." He chuckled.

"Not at all, she's lovely." You grinned, cradling the cat like a baby as purs rattled her delicate frame. George seemed to watch on as you admired the pretty animal in your arms. And when you dared to look back up to him, he sat up a little, from where he was perched on the edge of the couch.

George said something about ordering take away from a place nearby, and you agreed with the condition that you got to pay for it, too make up for his kindness in letting you stay in his lovely home. And much to your surprise, when you realized it anyhow, you felt perfectly content waiting around with George, for the pizza to be delivered. He stuck to his end of the sofa, while you settled into yours, holding fast to Sadie all the while. You talked about usual things, and even laughed over some others, until there was a knock at the door.

George went to answer, as you trailed toward the kitchen, stopping in the hall to admire some of the photos on the wall. There were plenty of his family, or maybe just friends. And even some of George, dressed in boxing gloves, at who must have been his father's side. The older man who looked so much like George held up an award as his son stood by with a shy smile and messy hair.

George found you gawking at his frames on his mission to set the box of pizza on the table.

"This photo is sweet. Did you win this garish award?" You teased, turning to find George wearing a grin reminecent of the one he sported in the photo.

"I did." He said.

"But you don't really do this sort of thing anymore..." You spoke, halfway asking why in the gentlest way you knew that might pry open his closed off manner.

"No I haven't for a while." George said. He poured you both a strong drink, the kind DeAngelos didn't serve.

"Why is that?" You wondered, easing to one of the wooden paint chipped seats at George's kitchen table. You watched him take a sip of the dark liquid in his glass, as you reached for your own.

"It got to be too much." He said, easier than anytime before. Like he actually wanted to tell you. And you kept a quiet eye on him, hoping if you waited long enough, he'd keep talking.

And much to your patient delight, he did.

"I started going to Fit after school, when I had nothing better to do. I'd stay till close, because I didn't want to go home." George explained. You took small bites of pizza and listened on, eyes softly glued to George's every word. And as he ate, he told you that he didn't have a very easy time growing up. How his father was sick, and his mother was never around. How George never thought of his future because he was busy worrying about each day at a time. You could tell he didn't talk about it. Any of it. So you just kept sipping your drink and offering gentle encouragement for him to keep going. Because you wanted to know. You desperately cared to know.

George told you that on one of Bareny's regular stops in, the gym owner took notice of George. How he'd listen to the distant encouragement some coaches gave to students in the ring. How he didn't have the money to take those lessons and stuck to practicing on the mats in the corner. How Bareny noticed, and asked George if he'd like to be trained. How he took up the owners generous offer, free of charge.

And when you nudged him to keep talking by asking all the right questions, George explained that Barney helped him enter into matches that he won like an old pro. How exhilarating it was at first. But those nights would end and George would go home and he would hate it. You knew better than to ask why, as he moved on. You just hoped this was the beginning of him letting you in bit by bit. The first of many stories.  You downed the last of your drink while George finished his pizza.

"Well you might not box anymore but I'd still love to watch you teach kids how." You laughed, watching George crack a smile across the table from you. He thanked you for covering dinner and you thanked him for letting you stay over. Then you launched into a sudden ramble about how stressed out you were about what to do, how it might be better to move than to keep combating your landlord. But how you didn't have the funds to put toward either of those options.

"God sorry I sound like a cry baby." You laughed, resting your glass in George's sink as he stored the left over pizza away.

"No you don't. You sound worried, and I'm sorry to hear it. Letting you stay over is the least I could do, really." George shrugged, shifting to face you. He stood a step away, keeping his intimidating gaze on yours. The kind of glare that might have made you feel small if you didn't know George. But you saw past the way he stood so tall and stoically. You saw more of him tonight than you ever had before. And that's what made you unsure of what to say next.

"I think I'll go get cleaned up now." You spoke with a gentle nod, heading to collect your bag. George showed you to the bathroom at the end of the hall before turning away and saying something about changing, himself.

You were left to bask at your reflection in the harsh golden light as the bathroom fan buzzed overhead. You dug through your backpack to find the nightclothes you'd brought along and thought of George as you stepped into the shower. The water was hot, pelting your shoulder blades with a warmth you hadn't had the luxury of experiencing all week. But you hurried along, mindful not to use up all the hot water.

When you changed and took a deep breath and peered back to the mirror, it was covered in steam. So you zipped up your backpack and made your way back out into George's home. Sadie was waiting patiently outside of the door. She wove between your feet as you took care not to step in her path before she settled to walk at your side. Was this some kind of dream, you wondered? Some kind of idyllic alternate universe, where nothing was the matter and the space you occupied was warm and safe and shared by the boy you hadn't stopped thinking of for months in a row?

At the end of the hall, George's bedroom door was open. A soft amber light shone from the bedside lamp you could see. George appeared into view as you were drawn to the space like a moth to a flame. He wore a tattered t-shirt and a pair of cotton joggers you'd never seen him wear before. His yellow hair appeared slightly damp and he looked happy, somewhere in the depths of his usually guarded expression. He looked at home.

Sadie brushed past your ankle, out of the hall and into the living room, leaving you and George the most alone you'd ever been.

He stalled in the doorway as you halted your floating closer. His eyes were softer than you'd ever seen them, sleepier; maybe.

"Right, well goodnight I suppose." You smiled, trying not to let your eyes rake over his figure. You could practically feel how close he was.

"Right." George seemed to decide, letting his eyes search yours for a beat before his glance drifted over your shoulder.

"I'll find you some blankets." He said, slowly stepping past you. But before he could drift down the hall you stopped him. Somehow, you spoke without even thinking, without even knowing you were brave enough.

All you said was his name, like a question. And that was all it took. George turned on a dime and kissed you. He crashed his lips against yours and tangled his long fingers in your hair as he cradled your head. His grip was the only thing holding you in place as you melted into a puddle, against him. When you started kissing George back, he moved one hand down the length of your side as he made one swift move to pin you against the wall. You couldn't help but let out a surprised breath, a sigh, a laugh of some kind.

George responded by kissing you harder, until you could hardly breath. And when you stopped kissing him back to do just that, you felt George's gentle grip against the exposed skin of your hip; tighten ever so slightly.

"Do I still have to sleep on your sofa?" You asked what felt like one dozen questions in one. Your fear of ruining the one in a million moment disguised by a lithe smile. George responded by letting out a laugh, his eyes nearly closing as he did. And when he was finished, he said;

"Come on."

You followed George to his bed, not daring to hide your excitement. He pulled you in with a smile, perhaps the broadest of smirks you'd seen him sport. There was still so much you longed to know about George. So many questions you were eager to ask, so many things you longed to hear him talk about. But spending the night sharing his pillow was a good place to start, you figured. You hadn't expected it of course. You never knew what was next with George. You'd only, simply, hoped for a next time. And with the way he looked at you now, and held on, you rekonned maybe he didn't want you to stray too far, either.

───※ ·❆· ※─── taglist: @haileymorelikestupid​  @maria-josefin​​ @imaginesandyeah​​ @queen-bunnyears @okaymackay​

[a-second-hand-sorrow]

Jackie and Wilson (Barry Berkman X Reader)

WC: 5801

Warnings: Swearing, drinking, sexual implications, angst at the end

Summary: Barry and Y/N’s relationship seen through Hozier’s ‘Jackie and Wilson’

Tagged: @billhaderlovebot @danny-fucking-mercury

A/N: Hey guys so this was my first time writing for Barry and I hope you all enjoy it bc I really liked writing this!

So tired trying to see from behind the red in my eyes

No better version of me I could pretend to be tonight

So deep in this swill with the most familiar of swine

For reasons wretched and divine

 Barry hated his life. He hated that he killed people for money, he hated that he was at Fuches’ beck and call, he hated the anger and the violence. He didn’t just hate it though, he was tired of it. Tired of all the red in his ledger. His entire life had been violence and too much blood had been spilled by his hands. The hands that were currently gripping the neck of a beer bottle with a little too much force.

In a last-ditch attempt to find some sort of purpose in his life Barry had sat in on Ryan’s acting class and had found that he loved it, and even though every fibre of his body was screaming ‘Say no!’ when Sally invited him to join the class at Residuals, he ended up agreeing, and that was where he was. Instead of returning to the shitty motel he was lodged at, he was in a booth at a bar somewhere in downtown LA, clutching his bottle of beer like it was a life raft. 

“So Barry, did you just move here?” Someone asked, bringing him out of his daze as he refocused his eyes on the people sitting in the booth with him.

 “Oh uh yeah, from Cleveland.” He responded half-heartedly, just keeping the conversation going for the sake of being polite. The conversation seemed to progress as everyone said where they were from, Barry nodding every now and then to show that he was still somewhat present.

He took a long drink from his bottle, eyes widening slightly when he heard Sally ask him to go dance. He shook his head, wiping his mouth before uttering a feeble excuse as to why he couldn’t dance. Sally didn’t believe him at all, that much was clear from her face, but she conceded, informing him that she’d be on the dance floor if he needed her. He nodded, watching as she walked away, along with the rest of the class, leaving Barry at the booth by himself. 

He sighed, slumping forward so his head was in his hands. He so desperately wanted to be able to relax and have fun with these people, but he couldn’t. He was so deep in all the shit his job entailed he was almost incapable of relaxing. 

Barry took in a deep breath and lifted his head, flagging down someone and asking for another bottle of beer and a shot of vodka. He shot the waiter a tight-lipped smile as he walked away, smiling again when he returned with the requested drinks.

Barry downed the shot first, cringing at how the alcohol burned his throat. He’d done plenty of vodka shots in his life but he rarely let himself feel the pain that came with them. He then started on his beer, watching the oddly lit tavern with a curious eye.

He so desperately wished he wasn’t who he was, that he was someone else who was free from the wretched constraints currently placed upon him by Fuches. Or maybe that he was a better version of himself, one that didn’t kill people as easily as a child might squash an ant. 

Who was he kidding? There was no better version of himself he could ever pretend to be, not tonight or ever. If he had learnt anything from the class, it’s that he certainly wasn’t the world’s best actor.

 She blows outta nowhere, roman candle of the wild

Laughing away through my feeble disguise

No other version of me I would rather be tonight.

And, Lord, she found me just in time

In Barry’s moment of anguish and self-pity, he had failed to notice the woman who had sat herself down opposite him in the booth. She had something that looked like a mojito or another tropical drink in her hand and she was looking him up and down, trying to understand this stranger.

“You look a little too pretty to be sitting here alone, mister.” She said, and Barry nearly jumped out of his seat. His eyes were wide as he looked at her, his brows furrowing in confusion at her sudden appearance.

“I’m sorry, what?” He said, and the woman sighed, holding up a finger as a gesture for him to wait as she took a drink from her glass. 

“I said you look a little too pretty, and now I’m realising maybe a little too sad, to be sitting here alone.” She said, and Barry felt his cheeks start to burn under the scrutinous eye of this obviously drunk stranger.

“You seem a little too drunk to be commenting on strangers.” Barry said, unusually curt, though he attributed that to the alcohol and the session of self-pity. The woman simply raised her eyebrows before stretching her hand out across the table.

“It seems we have gotten off on the wrong foot, pretty man. My name is Y/N.” She said, and Barry gave her a quick look up and down before taking her hand in his and shaking it.

“I’m Barry. Sorry for being so rude, I’ve just been having a rough time lately.” Barry said, and Y/N shrugged her shoulders, taking another drink.

“We all have rough times, what matters is how we deal with them Barry. For example, being rude to strangers isn’t great but it is better than, I don’t know, murder.” Y/N said, chuckling to herself as Barry froze up.

How did she know? Was she sent here by someone? He started to panic, grabbing for his beer and downing most of what remained as Y/N watched on with curiosity.

“Man, you’re an interesting guy, Barry. So how does a pretty guy such as yourself end up at Residuals at this hour?” Y/N asked, watching Barry’s face change ever so slightly before he answered.

He told her all about how he moved from Cleveland and how he hated his job (that was no lie) and as they talked, and talked, and talked, Barry realised that perhaps he needed someone like Y/N in his life. She was so easy to talk to, and Barry felt he had known her his whole life instead of the few hours he had really known her for.

He thought back to his earlier anger and his wish to be some other version of himself, and he immediately retracted his wish. He had decided that there was no other version of himself he would rather be, because if he was any different he might not have known Y/N the way he now knew her, and he couldn’t stand that thought.

As he looked across at her, her face and arms animated as she told a story that Barry couldn’t quite remember the details of, he realised that not only was Y/N the one that found him, but by God she found him just in time.

 Cause with my mid-youth crisis all said and done

I need to be youthfully felt 'cause, God, I never felt young

 As the night started to draw to a close, Barry had completely forgotten the internal crisis that has plagued him before. Instead, all he now focused on was Y/N. The charismatic stranger who he now knew very well, and as he stared into her eyes he realised that she was very attractive and he very much wanted to kiss her.

“Earth to Barry, come in Barry.” Y/N said, waving her hands in front of his face. He jumped slightly, focusing in on the woman who looked at him with a soft smile.

“You spaced out there for a sec. I was just going to ask if you wanted to get out of here, because it’s nearly closing time but also I think you’re pretty great and don’t want to say goodnight just yet.” Y/N said, wringing her hands slightly as she watched anxiously for Barry’s reaction.

“That sounds great, yeah. I’d like that.” Barry said, and Y/N’s face lit up in a smile. She jumped up excitedly, pulling her jacket on while still beaming, and Barry couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face in response to her joy.

She left a bunch of money on the table as a means of payment for the drinks, and soon Barry was hurriedly waving goodbye to the few remaining members of the acting class as he walked out just behind Y/N. They walked for a few metres until they were near the side of Residuals.

“So Y/N, where did you want to.” Barry’s sentence died as Y/N cupped his face, bringing him into a somewhat messy kiss. Barry’s eyes fluttered shut instinctively but when he truly realised what was happening his eyes flew open. 

Y/N had her hand on his face and she was kissing him. This beautiful woman was kissing him voluntarily, and he wasn’t kissing back because he was analysing it. Fuck, he thought, I should probably kiss her back.

Barry’s eyes closed as he returned the kiss, allowing himself to give into the joy that he was feeling. Y/N was somewhat forceful, and before he knew it she had backed him up against the rough wall, tangling her other hand in his dark hair as they continued to kiss.

Y/N broke away and Barry took in a shaky breath, his head falling back against the wall as she began to press kisses down his jawline and neck. His hands were against her back, clutching the fabric of her shirt so tight his hands hurt.

He hadn’t done anything like this in a very long time. He hadn’t been wanted in a very long time, at least not romantically… or sexually. He was brought from his thoughts by Y/N’s teeth grazing over a particularly sensitive spot on his neck, a groan spilling from the back of his throat.

Barry felt her smirk against his neck at the sound he made, and he knew he was in trouble. Y/N pulled away from him, her chest heaving almost in time with Barry’s. She looked up at him and he let out a breathy laugh.

“What?” She said, not cruelly or harshly, but with a soft curiosity that made Barry want to smile.

“I feel like a fucking teenager.” Barry said, almost giggling as he uttered those words. The irony in them was that Barry didn’t really have the ideal teenage years with the parties and reckless behaviour and everything you see in the movies. He was a good kid in high school and went into the marines pretty much right out of high school. 

Y/N let out a laugh, pressing a kiss to the corner of Barry’s mouth. “Well, it’s good to feel young.” She whispered in his ear, raising the hairs on the nape of his neck as he shuddered, inhaling deeply.

Barry never really got to feel young, and as Y/N’s lips found his again with more force he realised that if being with Y/N was what being young felt like, he wanted to feel young for the rest of his life.

 She's gonna save me,

Call me "baby"

Run her hands through my hair

She'll know me crazy

Soothe me daily

Better yet she wouldn't care

 Barry woke up the next morning feeling strangely peaceful. There was a dull ache in his head and an arm wrapped around his waist. Y/N’s arm, he realised, and his heart sped up. He looked down at her, her eyes still closed and her face as relaxed as could be, and he smiled.

He fought the urge to reach down and push her hair behind her ear, and he felt a strange sense of pride flow throw him when he saw the marks that decorated her neck.

He went to close his eyes again but heard the distinctive buzz of his phone. He groaned loudly, stretching his arm out to grab the phone, however his heart dropped when he saw the message. It was from Fuches, informing him that the next hit had been moved to tonight instead of next Wednesday. He swore, putting the phone face down on the bedside table and dropping his head into his hands.

Amongst all the noise and movement, Y/N had woken up groggily. She rubbed her eyes slowly, but when she saw Barry in a state of distress she was wide awake.

“Shit Barry, are you ok? What’s up?” She said, her voice still riddled with sleep as she sat up, looking over at Barry who had lifted his head slightly, meeting her worried eyes.

“It’s… it’s just shit with work. You don’t have to worry. I’ll go make breakfast, you can go back to sleep.” Barry said, throwing the covers off his legs. Y/N frowned in confusion before reaching out to grab Barry’s wrist.

“I know we only met last night but you can talk to me Barry. If we never see each other again then think of it as an inexpensive therapy, and if we do see each other again then it’s still inexpensive therapy but you get more sessions.” Y/N said, lightly running her thumb against his wrist and the look he gave her was so full of emotion it almost hurt.

He almost collapsed into her arms, grasping at her oversized shirt as she held him. Barry had been forced to be strong and hold it together for far too long, and there was something about Y/N’s genuine want to help him out however she could that just broke him.

She rubbed his back with one hand, gently running the other through his hair, occasionally pressing kisses to the crown of his head. “It’s ok baby, take as long as you need, but if I have to go to the bathroom then you’re getting booted, I’m sorry.” Y/N said, and Barry laughed, his entire body shuddering slightly against her as he did.

There was something so soothing about her touch, and he felt that even though they were practically strangers, she seemed to know him in a crazily intimate way. She knew just what words to say to help him out, when to speak and when to remain quiet, and the best part of the morning was that she didn’t care.

Y/N didn’t care that he suddenly collapsed onto her and laid there for half an hour in almost silence, she didn’t care that he clearly was suffering more than he let on. She just took every moment as it came, and every time her hands wound into his hair and she called him baby in that soft voice of hers he swore that he wouldn’t ever give this up.

 We'll steal her Lexus,

Be detectives,

Ride 'round picking up clues

 Several weeks had passed since that night at Residuals, and Barry was feeling happier than he had ever felt before. Even though he was still being made to do work for Fuches, it wasn’t consuming him and eating away at him like it used to. He almost felt normal with Y/N, something he had spent the last 20 years yearning for.

“Hey babe, I really need to practice this scene for class and Sally’s busy so would you be able to run lines with me?” Barry said, causing Y/N to look up from her battered copy of Pet Sematary.

“Sure. I’m warning you now that I certainly will not be as good as Sally. I haven’t done anything close to acting since the ninth grade. What’s the scene?” Y/N asked, putting down her book and moving to stand behind Barry, resting her hands on his shoulders.

“It’s uh, a scene from A Streetcar Named Desire. Mr Cousineau wanted to challenge us with some more classic plays.” Barry said, craning his head to make eye contact with his girlfriend.

“Oh yeah, I remember studying this in junior year. Challenging is the right word for it.” Y/N muttered, causing Barry to chuckle, nodding his head as he picked up the script.

“Did you wanna start now?” Barry asked and Y/N nodded, removing her hands so Barry could stand up. They moved into position, and Barry passed Y/N his copy of the script.

“I tried to memorise my lines, but if I fuck up just give me the right line, ok?” Barry said and Y/N nodded, smiling at him.

“I take it I’m Blanche?” She said and Barry nodded, taking in a deep breath with his eyes closed, clearly getting into character. Y/N gazed over the script and realised that she had the first line, cursing under her breath before starting.

“Well, well.” She said, her lines punctuated by an uneasy (in-character) laugh from Barry, who looked at her meekly.

“I guess it must be pretty late – and you’re tired.” Barry said, and Y/N had to fight her laugh at the slight New Orleans twist he had added to his voice.

“Even the hot tamale man has deserted the street, and he hangs on till the end.” Y/N said, cringing at how stilted the words sounded. “How will you get home?” She continued, hoping she didn’t sound as robotic as she thought she did.

“I’ll walk over to Bourbon and catch a streetcar.” Barry said, and as Y/N’s eyes flicked down again she realised he had slightly messed up his words.

“Sorry hun, it’s an ‘owl-car’ not a streetcar.” She said and Barry swore under his breath, nodding as he gave her a thumbs up.

“Thanks, let’s keep going.” He said, prompting Y/N to look at the script and deliver her next line. It said for her to laugh grimly, however whatever she did sounded more like a witch’s cackle.

“Is that streetcar named Desire still grinding along the tracks at this hour?” Y/N said, trying to add a southern twang to her accent but failing miserably. She couldn’t help but laugh at the situation, knowing she was probably no help to Barry at all.

Quickly her soft laughter turned into a full-blown fit, and soon Barry was laughing as well, watching his girlfriend throw herself on his couch in a frenzy of laughter. 

“God I am so shit at this. Like so incredibly bad.” Y/N said through her giggles, looking up at Barry with wide eyes.

“I mean, I’ve seen worse.” Barry said, sitting down next to her. She raised her eyebrows, sitting up straight and turning to face Barry.

“Do not bullshit me, Berkman. That was utter trash and you know it.” Y/N said, looking him dead in the eyes and watching as he broke, nodding his head with a tight lipped smile on his face.

“Yeah it was pretty bad.” He said and Y/N laughed loudly, resting her head against Barry’s shoulder.

“I’m sick of all this acting stuff. I have an idea. I think we should just let loose and steal a car, then go on a crazy cool road trip.” Y/N said, and Barry pulled a confused face.

“Y/N are you ok? How much sleep did you get last night?” Barry asked, and Y/N waved her hand dismissively.

“That doesn’t matter. Ooh, maybe we could get some cheap cop costumes and pretend to be detectives solving our own little case. That could be fun, right?” Y/N says, taking Barry’s hand and playing with his fingers as she spoke.

“We could always go to the beach in October just for the hell of it.” Barry said and Y/N smiled widely, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Now you’ve got it. Keep the ideas coming, Berkman. I’ve got all day.”

 We'll name our children

Jackie and Wilson

Raise 'em on rhythm and blues

 Barry and Y/N had been together for about two and a half months, verging on three, and they loved every second of it. Neither of them had ever been with someone who complimented them so well, and Barry was so grateful for her presence in his life.

It was a quiet night. The two of them had been curled up in Y/N’s bed watching one of the cheesy 2000’s rom coms from Y/N’s collection, and once the movie had finished they were content to just lie in each other’s arms in bed.

A comfortable silence had settled over them until Y/N suddenly broke it. “Do you ever think about the future, Barry?” Barry was a little startled by her sudden question and he rolled over to face her, studying her features in the dim bedroom light.

“I don’t know. I guess my mind tends to wander sometimes, but I only ever think about the little future-related things.” Barry said, his answer a little basic due to his tired state.

“Well, do you ever think about our future, then?” Y/N asked, a little more hesitant as she waited for Barry’s answer.

“Yeah, a lot. I feel like such a little kid, but I daydream a lot. Sometimes in rehearsals, sometimes at work, and without fail they’re always dreams about us.” Barry said softly, and the blush that coated Y/N’s cheeks was almost noticeable, even in the dark room. There was a look in her eyes that prompted Barry to keep talking.

“Sometimes it’s us living together, sometimes us on holiday together, sometimes us married with kids.” Barry said, his voice softening. He didn’t want to scare Y/N away with the idea of marriage and kids. They’d only been together for a few months but he knew she’d be the one he’d marry and have a family with.

“You think about us getting married and having kids?” Y/N said, looking at Barry with more love in her eyes than he had ever seen, and he nodded gently, his hand reaching out to cup her face. Y/N smiled, leaning into his touch as she brought her own hand up to rest over his.

“So do I. I love you so much Barry, and I want to spend my life with you. Really.” She said, feeling her heart soar as she looked into Barry’s eyes.

“Are you proposing to me, Y/L/N? That’s very unorthodox of you.” Barry said, and Y/N laughed, shaking her head.

“I’m not proposing, baby. I’m just saying that you’re the best thing in my life. Similar but different, I can understand the confusion.” Y/N said, causing Barry to let out a laugh that was cut short by him kissing Y/N tenderly.

“I like the name Jackie.” Y/N said once they pulled away and Barry looked at her with a raised eyebrow, prompting her to keep talking.

“For a girl, obviously, and for a boy I’ve always liked the name Wilson. It was my dad’s name.” She said, and a look of understanding crossed Barry’s face.

“They’re both great names.” Barry said and Y/N smiled, pecking his cheek as they moved into a more suitable sleeping position, her head on his chest and his arm around her shoulders.

“I can’t wait to have a family with you, Barry Berkman. I love you.”

 Lord, it'd be great to find a place we could escape sometime

Me and my Isis growing black irises in the sunshine

Every version of me dead and buried in the yard outside

Sit back and watch the world go by.

 “Hey babe, look what I got!” Y/N called to her boyfriend from the front of their house. They had been together for six months and were moving into a tiny house in the outer suburbs of Los Angeles that they had miraculously been able to purchase.

A lot of their friends said they were moving pretty quickly, but Y/N and Barry never listened to them. The moving process was messy and tiresome, but it was mostly finished. They were now just working on minor things, which is what prompted Y/N to go out looking for plants.

“They had these super cool black irises at the nursery so I picked some up for the garden. Did you know that they’re the national flower of Jordan? The lady at the store told me.” Y/N said, carefully setting the pots down on their front porch.

Barry had emerged from the house and was looking at Y/N with a loving smile. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a brief kiss, pulling away before gently pecking his lips once more.

“Front yard or back?” Barry asked, his hands resting on her hips. Y/N chuckled softly, shrugging her shoulders.

“Whatever you want, babe.” Y/N said, winking exaggeratedly at Barry who just rolled his eyes.

“Back yard it is. Let’s go plant these interesting flowers.” Barry said, picking up a pot and looking at it inquisitively as he made his way to the backyard.

“Don’t bully the flowers, Barry! They’re the national flower of Jordan, treat them with some respect!” Y/N hollered as she followed Barry, the other pot clutched in her hands.

Barry laughed to himself, marvelling at how domestic the situation was. Never in a million years did he think he would be planting flowers in the small backyard of the house he shared with his girlfriend, but life is funny sometimes. Even though he still hadn’t told Y/N the truth about how he had enough money to afford the house, he wanted to enjoy every moment with her.

The planting of the flowers was fun and did involve a bit of a dirt war, but once everything was properly taken care of, the couple stood in the small garden, Barry’s arms around Y/N’s waist from behind and his head in the crook of her neck as they looked at their handiwork.

“I could stay here forever. Just standing here with you, watching the world go by. I love it.” Barry said suddenly, his breath on Y/N’s neck causing hairs to raise.

“Ideally I’d like to be sitting down if I’m watching the world go by, but I get where you’re coming from.” Y/N said, and Barry let out a short laugh, pressing a kiss to the nape of her neck.

Barry decided then and there that he only ever wanted to be this version of himself. The one who got to love and be loved by Y/N. The one who got to plant flowers and hold her close to him. As he looked at the garden over Y/N’s shoulder, he realised that in a way every other version of himself was dead and buried in the yard with the irises, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

 Happy to lie back watch it burn and rust

We tried the world, good God, it wasn't for us.

 Barry’s phone had been going off non-stop for the past week. Fuches and Hank had been calling and texting, always inquiring about the big hit he had coming up. Did he have enough ammo? Did he know exactly where he was supposed to be at what time? Did he know enough about the target? Did he make sure to eat breakfast because being a hitman is busy work and can maybe make you forget meals? That last one was Hank, ever the polite criminal mastermind.

He had given Y/N an endless list of apologies and excuses, and he started to think she might be seeing through them. The last thing he wanted was for her to find out (even though he knew that he’d have to tell her eventually), least of all for her to find out in such a lazy way as accidentally picking up a phone call meant for Barry.

He was watching an old episode of Family Ties with Y/N, and just as she was laughing at some Michael J Fox-as-Alex P Keaton said, Barry’s phone went off. It was another text from Fuches, and he cursed as he saw it.

“Who keeps texting you babe? If you’ve got a mistress you might want to be a bit better at keeping it covered up.” Y/N said from her perch on the couch, legs folded under her.

Barry pulled a face, shaking his head. “Firstly I don’t have a mistress and the fact that you think I’d ever have one hurts a little, and secondly it’s work again. I swear they won’t leave me alone.” Barry said, shoving his phone in his pocket as he desperately tried to ignore the incessant buzzing.

“Babe, here’s a wild thought. How about you try ignoring it? Turn your phone completely off, lie back and ignore it all.” Y/N said, and Barry’s face screwed up slightly. He knew she had a point but there was no way he could do that without significant consequences.

“If you don’t do it, I will.” Y/N said, raising her eyebrows as she looked at Barry with a challenging expression, daring him to turn off his phone. He caved under the intense stare of his girlfriend, and he turned his phone completely off and placed it on a nearby coffee table.

“Now how about you turn off the TV, I’ll turn on the radio and we can relax. Maybe we can dance, I don’t know.” She said, and Barry nodded, picking up the TV remote and turning the thing off, cutting Steven Keaton off in the middle of his sentence.

Y/N got up, shooting Barry a wink as she moved over to the stereo, turning it on. She smiled at the sound of Jackie Wilson’s voice coming through the speakers, starting to move in time with the beat.

“Join me, Berkman.” She said, stretching her arms out towards him. Barry smiled and moved closer to her, wrapping his arms around her waist as they swayed to the rhythm of the music.

“You know what I’ve realised?” Y/N said, her arms snacking around Barry’s neck as he hummed in acknowledgement, looking down at her.

“I don’t think the world gets us, or at least some of the people in it. They always judge and try and pull us apart in some way, so I think that maybe the world isn’t for us, Bear.” Y/N said, watching Barry’s face soften at the nickname for him that she used sparingly.

“I think I get what you mean, and just saying, I love how your mind works.” Barry said, kissing Y/N’s forehead as she giggled.

“I love you, bear.”

 Cut clean from the dream at night let my mind reset

Looking up from a cigarette, and she's already left

I start digging up the yard for what's left of me and our little vignette

For whatever poor soul is coming next

  The hit had gone badly. He had taken almost every measure to make it go smoothly, but he couldn’t account for the sheer fight his target gave. He did the job, but he was battered and bruised and angry. Not just angry, raging.

When he got home he just wanted to get out of his gear, have a shower and either sleep or punch a wall, whichever happened first. He pushed open the door of the house, expecting to find it quiet and dark as always. However, he was instead met with a sight he hadn’t prepared for. Y/N was sitting at the kitchen table in her pyjamas, dark purple bags under her eyes and a lit cigarette in her hand, the smoke curling upwards like some sort of twisted moth chasing the light.

Barry’s mouth opened and closed several times like a fish’s, trying to find something to say to his girlfriend. “Don’t fucking think about it, Barry.” Y/N said sharply, and his mouth closed fully as he searched for the trademark joy in Y/N’s eyes. All he could find was anger, an emotion he knew all too well.

“I’m not going to ask for an explanation, I just want to know something. Are you seeing someone else?” Y/N asked, taking a drag from her cigarette as Barry shook his head violently, taking a step closer to Y/N.

“No, I’m not seeing anyone else, Y/N. You know me.” He said, taking another step and reaching his hand out to rest on her arm, however she shook her head, taking another drag of the cigarette before speaking.

“Do I, Barry? Do I really know you, because the Barry I know wouldn’t come home at one in the fucking morning decked out in black, looking like he’s hiding something. Are you, Barry?” Y/N asked, her voice dropping to a deadly quiet as she asked the fatal question.

“Am I what?” He asked, though he knew deep down what she was asking him. He just didn’t want to face it.

“Are you hiding something from me?” Y/N said, putting her cigarette out on the kitchen table with a forceful hand. Barry refused to meet her eyes, his shoulders dropping in resignation. Y/N narrowed her eyes, biting her lip as she stood up.

“Fuck. I’m going to stay with Natalie for a while. Talk to me when you’re ready to grow up, Barry.” She said, storming past him to the door. Their eyes met briefly in the doorway, and Y/N had to look away to stop herself from crying.

She loved Barry with her whole heart, but he was clearly a different person to what he had showed her. There was something going on, and Y/N couldn’t be around him while he sorted that out. The door shut behind her and she wiped away tears as she pulled out her phone to call Natalie.

At the same time inside the house Barry pounded his fist into the kitchen table, crying out at the pain. “Fuck!” He yelled, slumping down into the chair Y/N was just in. 

He knew this was too good to be true, that it wouldn’t last. It was nothing more than a lengthy dream, pleasant and beautiful but finite. In a moment of nostalgia, he found himself going out to the garden. He stared at the black irises, remembering the day they had been planted… remembering how it was before what just happened.

In a way those flowers were all he had left of his time with Y/N. The flowers and all the memories, now slightly tainted by sadness like a sepia filter being applied to something that was once in colour.

He didn’t realise that he had stated crying until he could taste the salty tears on his own lips, and his hands rushed up to wipe them away. He longed to be back in Y/N’s arms, but instead he was alone in the garden, trying to find what was left of himself.

[kileyrose-2003]

Dan Torrance x Fem! Reader

A/N: This request was submitted by @ateliefloresdaprimavera I hope this is to your liking. Enjoy hun!

Dan anxiously held his hands in his laps as he watched Doctor John stroll up to the podium to begin the meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous. This became a habitual thing for Dan now for the past 8 years but he just felt off today.

He attempted to brush it off as residual anxiety that lingered from his most recent and troubling visit with Abra but his gut told him that wasn't it. Someone unintentionally entered his head. Whoever the person was that caused the disturbance was not a stranger. They felt familiar to him but definitely had a certain dark edge.

"So before we begin we all remember the golden rule right?" All the members in the room nodded. "All that is said in AA stay in AA." They reiterated.

"Good." John slammed his hand down on the podium loudly, making everyone cringe as well as himself. "So who wants to start? How about you Miss? It's been a while since we've had a newbie."

The woman on the other side of the room bent her head down for a moment, rubbing her face to try and self soothe and attempted to sit up straight with semi good posture. "Y-yeah..I uh..I..Sorry, I'm not good with the whole interaction thing but uhm..my names-"

"Y/n." The word rolled off Dan's tongue like it was a sacred prayer before she could even finish her sentence. She looked up at him, a sea of confusion and self loathing gleaming in her eyes. She was deliberately trying to avoid him.

"Your name is Y/n." There was an open chair a few spaces away from Y/n and he moved over to it. Making sure to leave at least a fair distance between them. She was at the same spot he was at 8 years ago and could feel all the pain from it. The words 'The sins of the father always falls upon his children.' Was all he could think of in that moment.

He angeled his head so he could have direct eye contact with her, or at least as much as he could manage to get. "I don't know if you remember me but my name is Dan. We used to be neighbors at the apartment complex."

For a couple of minutes Y/n averted eye contact, staring off seemingly into space. She was more skittish than Dan remembered but still had the same looks. Despite the bags under his, despite everything she had went through, he thought she looked beautiful. "..your favorite sweater had Apollo 11 on it and your dad's name was Jack. Fitting because that's all he ever drank."

She swallowed deeply and fiddled with her fingers. Her mouth beginning to quench for the taste of a good margarita or beer. Even if it meant that it would kill or end her.

(It's the only thing that takes all the ghost away.)

'So she does still have it.' Dan shifted uncomfortably and coughed, his hands subconsciously balling up into fist. "Yeah, um..it was." Billy raised an eyebrow at him from across the room, this expression of amusement on his face and Dan returned the glance.

Doctor John scratched the back of his neck. He was curious about Y/n for sure but god, the tension in the room was unbearable."So..where you from Y/n?" She answered all the questions, trying to be as short as possible.

(You like her, don't you?)

Dan looked at Billy and folded his arms across his chest.

(She was my best friend when I was 5. Before my dad brought us to The Overlook for the summer. She was my 'girlfriend')

Billy examined Y/n up and down.

(She seemed a little..distant when remembering you.)

(I can't say I blame her. Our fathers used to drink together and her's in particular, got violent when he did. She'd never talk about it with me but there are some things you just don't need telepathy for you know?)

He nodded and turned his focus back to Y/n.

"..So Y/n, how did you and Dan lose contact?" They both knew the answer to that question and her face became flushed. Y/N's eyes searched the room almost as if she was looking for someone to save her. "I-i...I'm sorry. I can't." She stood up from her chair and grabbed her purse.

"Y/n..Y/n, please don't go. It wasn't your fault." Dan stood up in an attempt to stop her from leaving. "Danny p-please just leave me alone." Her voice sounded shakey, almost as if she was going to start crying. "But Y/n, I want to help you. Look I know how it feels to live with this stuff and it's not a hallucination, it's-"

He accidentally touched her wrist and she let out a blood curdling shrill. "GET AWAY!" She swung at him out of instinct and hit him straight in the eye. Dan let out a groan and put a hand on top of his sore eye that he knew was going to bruised in the morning. "Y/n! Y/n!" She only shook her head though and walked out the door.

Dan frowned and ran his fingers through his hair. "You okay?" Billy handed him a bag with ice for his eye. "Yeah I'm okay. I just really hoped that would of went better."

"You weren't exactly in the best shape either when you ended up in Frazier, Dan. Just gotta give her some time man. I'll help her get a job. A place to live.." He patted him on the back, giving his best reassuring smile. "I hope so Billy..I hope so."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Uncle Dan!" Abra ran up to him excitedly and wrapped her arms in his middle tightly. Dan chuckled slightly and hugged her back. "Hey kiddo. How was school?"

"It was good. I got an A on my biology report." She grinned cheekily and released him from the embrace. "Oh my god. What happened to your eye?"

"Ah, it's nothing kiddo." She raised an eyebrow, almost as if to contradict what he said. "No really, it's nothing. I accidentally scared this girl and she you know..hit me eye."

"She cute?" Dan raised an eyebrow. "Does it matter?" Abra giggled and sat down on a bench. "No, I guess it doesn't but still, is she?" He debated on giving her the look but decided against it. "Yes, she is very pretty. Anyways-"

"Where'd you meet her?" He shook his head. "You're really not going to let me go off the subject of this are you?" Abra smirked. "Nope. So where'd you meet her?"

He thought a little bit before responding. "..a place only adults should have to be. Look-"

(So AA?)

Dan furrowed his brows.

(Sorry. The one time you and Billy were in the car together I accidentally peaked and..you know. I found out. I'm really sorry. )

"It's fine Abra just..Nevermind. That'll have to be conversation we have together later." Abra stared at him for a while, her eyes eventually going in the other direction. "..You've known her for longer than that though, haven't you?"

"Yeah..before I went to the Overlook as a kid. Abra, I know what happens when you get that look in your eye."

Abra just smiled. "Girls like it when boys are considerate. If you're not going to ask her out, which I really think you should, you should at least take her out to get coffee. You kind of owe it to her after the scare."

"Abra, I don't know if I'm ready for that. Or if she would even be okay with that..she's not exactly in a good spot right now."

"You weren't okay for a while too, but look at you now..it only takes one person to make a difference sometimes. Come on Uncle Dan, please." She begged.

"Abra, I don't know. She's been through alot." Dan slid away from her slightly. "Please?" She smiled as sweetly as she could manage. "..okay, fine. I will."

'No you won't. You're only saying it to get me off your back. So now I'm going to have play Cupid.' Abra thought then gave a fake happy squeal. "Yay! You're not going to regret it Uncle Dan. It's going to be awesome and super cute." He patted shoulder. "I'm sure it will be kiddo..I'm sure it will."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Abra, you don't even drink coffee. Why do you want to go into a cafe?" Dan groaned as his niece dragged him down the street. "Because you look like you need some and there are other things there besides coffee that you can buy. Now come on!"

She had to get there before Y/n left. Because she knew Dan wouldn't do what he promised unless she forced him.

She stepped into the shop, making sure she still had a hold of Dan. "Why don't you get a table while I order?"

"Abra, we've been over this. Do you know what people think, especially locals, when they see a young girl like you with a 40 year old white male?" He whispered harshly, trying not to draw to much attention.

"Just relax and let me handle everything, okay?" Abra gave him a reassuring smile and Dan relaxed slightly. "Okay just be careful plese?"

"I will." She grinned and skipped off to the line. She stood firmly in place and closed her eyes. 'Y/n..Y/n.' At first she felt nothing. Then she heard a ping. It got closer and louder until it was finally blaring in her ear. A head blaster by all means.

"S-sweetie? Do you mind to move up please, because the line is long?" Abra let out an inner yell of excitement. She didn't even have to find her. Y/n came walking to her.

"Sure, sorry I was spacing off." Abra scooted up a smidge. "You're Y/n, right?" The older woman's face looked confused. "..yes, why? Do I know you?"

"No, but you know my Uncle Dan." Y/n looked flabbergasted. "You're Dan's niece? I-i didn't know he had any siblings."

"He doesn't. Or at least I don't think so. I'm his honorary one." Y/n just gave a slight courteous nod. She wanted to get out of there. Still hating social interaction even if it was with a child of all people.

"You know my uncle really likes you." Abra treaded over to the counter slowly and placed her order. "D-does he?"

"Mhm. You don't look like you have anyone else here with you. Do you want to have coffee with us?"

Y/n stiffened uncomfortably. "I don't if D-Dan's going to want that..last time I seen him was kind of rough." She blushed out of embarrassment. "He'll get over it. Now come on, I got two coffees for my two favorite adults."

Y/n's eyes widened. The little girl had been planning all of this out. Abra reached out to touch her hand and Y/n recoiled.

(It's okay.)

Y/n's face softened. By now she should of been all flustered yet she felt so at ease. She couldn't remember the last time she felt that way.

(I know it has to be scary but it's all going to be okay I promise.)

Abra gradually extended her hand out and Y/n took it gently in her own. Letting her lead her over to the table.

"There you are. I thought you were having a hard time-" Dan looked up from his magazine, his face turning red. "Abra!" He tried his hardest not to raise his voice. "I thought I told you to leave her-"

"It's fine Danny." He met Y/n's eye. "I can't avoid you forever and it's not like you're going to go away." She tried her hardest to make the words sound gentle.

Dan covered her face and sighed, his elbows folding up the lace table cloth. "Abra, can you give us a few minutes. Please?"

"Yeah." She handed Y/n her coffee. "It was nice meeting you." Y/n smiled shyly. "Nice to meet you as well, Abra." She took her seat across from Dan, keeping her eyes on the teenager to made sure she got out okay.

"She's a sweet kid, you got to admit that Danny." He nodded. "Yeah, she is..and clever at playing cupid too." He muttered the last part softly and Y/n giggled.

"I'm sorry by the way..for what I did to your eye at AA." Y/n took a large gulp of her coffee. "No, no. It was my fault. I pushed too far and I..I just..I really miss you."

"I miss you too." She frowned slightly, her eyes starting to water. "I never forgot about you Y/n..I just didn't want to hurt you. Because I knew what you were going through at home and I had my own mess to take care of and-"

"Dan, you don't need to apologize to me. It's okay." Y/n reached her arm across the table. Flinching slightly as she took his hand. "It's okay, I promise."

He held her hand tenderly. "Did he leave?" Y/n shook her head. "I ran away from home. My mom died and my father got worse..he tried to touch me Dan and it hurt so bad." She began to sob.

"Hey..hey." He moved over so he could hold her. "I'm so sorry." People in the cafe were looking at them like they had five heads but he didn't care.

She gripped onto his shirt like a child and buried her head in his chest. "I couldn't take it anymore so I ran..I ran as far as I could." Y/n let go of him for a moment to wipe her eye.

"Then some man and a woman in a jeep picked me up on the side of the road. Offered me something, I can't remember what but I told them and they begged and pleaded but I said no and the next thing I knew I woke up on the side of the road in Colorado a couple of miles away from a bar and I couldn't stop from there."

Dan rubbed tiny little circles on her back, trying to sooth not only his worries but her's. He'd have to ask Abra later if she knew how The Knot recruited people.

"My father died in accident a few months after I ran away but he wouldn't leave me alone. Because wherever that sick bastard had, I had too so the drink was the only thing that could take the pain away."

"I'm sick, Danny..but I want to get better. I really do." Y/n's eyes had a truthful gleam in them. "And you will. I'm going to help you. Me and Billy. I'm not going to let anything happened to you."

(Or let you out of my sight again.)

Y/n's eye looked hopeful yet wary. "You trust me, right?" She nodded her head and he pulled her close.

For the first time in a while she didn't flinch and completely relaxed. She knew she was safe. "Dan?" Her voice came out like a whisper. "Yeah Y/n?"

"I think I love you." Dan grinned and hugged her tight. "I love you too Y/n/n..I love ya too."

[dreams-madeof-strawberrylemonade]

Sound of Nature- Part 2

Warnings: language a little bit, nothing serious Word count: 1,8K+ A/N: It has been so fun writing this, and I want to thank everyone for the feedback so far! Also, I want to mention that any critiques and comments are welcome. If you want to be added to the taglist, send me an ask or DM me. Enjoy! P.S.: Sorry the upload is late, I just got back from the cinema and forgot to upload it before I left oops

Josh Kiszka x (female) Reader

Part 2 - Sunshine

Josh just looked at you, in complete silence. You knew you fucked up. You shouldn’t have said that. The look in his eyes didn’t change at all, they were still unreadable. You could tell you caught Josh off-guard.

“Y/N…” he started softly and put his hand on your shoulder. You looked up at him, sadness in your eyes. “You and I are both kind of drunk. I think it would be better if we have this conversation tomorrow, what do you say?”

You just nodded sadly. You knew that Josh was a good guy and he didn’t want to get your heart broken. “I am going to stay outside,” you answered him as you sat up and put the fire out.

“Take care, darling. I promise we will talk first thing in the morning,” he ended and walked to his tent.

You remained outside. The sky was still dark, but with slight hints of the sunrise coming in the next hour. You were surrounded by a deafening silence. You could hear your heart beat as you laid down on one of the logs, face up, observing the sky. A thousand thoughts passed through your mind in those first moments, but slowly you reached the eye of the storm.

Your eyes slowly closed and drifted temporarily to a space worry and stress-free.

~

You opened your eyes at the soft poke on your arm. It took you a moment to see who was next to you, but you immediately recognized Danny.

“Hi,” you muttered, rubbing the tiredness out of your eyes.

“Hey. What’s up? Is everything alright with you and Josh?” he asked, while you sat up and fixed your Y/H/C hair. You just stayed silent, remembering the events that took place few hours earlier. Daniel’s eyes got a hint of sadness after they followed you for a couple of moments. He understood the look on your face. “Come with me, let me tell you something,” he said and you just followed.

You slowly walked over to the lake in the approach of your camp. The sun was up on the sky; you unfortunately missed the sunrise. The wind was softly blowing your hair off your shoulders. You were too lost in your thoughts to notice Danny’s worried look.

You two got on the shore of the lake and sat down at the end of the wooden deck that extended for a couple of feet over the crystal-clear water.

“Look, Y/N, I can see something is wrong, do you want to let it all out?” Danny started.

You just shook your head in dismissal. You knew Danny had good intentions, but you weren’t in the mood to talk to anyone about anything.

“That’s okay then. But let me tell you, since I believe that it is something between you and Josh – he is a good guy, Y/N. You know that no matter what happens between you, he can’t stay away from you. All the time we were away he talked about you and the memories you had together. He really cares about you,” Danny spoke. His words made you smile sadly. Deep down, you hoped that would be the case.

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for quite some time. You loved how Danny was the peacemaker in any situation. He has been a good soul only with good intentions since day one you met him.

“Danny, thanks,” you smiled at him.

“No problem, kiddo!” he smiled back and threw a splash of water onto your face.

“Kiddo? I am older than you!” you laughed it off and stood up.

Danny stood up as well. “But you’re so short, so kiddo it is!”

You laughed loudly, the sound of your voices echoing through the woods and over the lake. From behind you, you could hear footsteps approaching. You turned around to see a tired looking Josh. You could tell he had had a rough night. With just one look from Josh, Danny understood that the two of you needed to have the talk in private, so he left back to the camp, where the rest just started to wake up.

“Morning,” Josh spoke softly, his voice giving away a little bit of the emotion in his heart.

“Hey, listen Josh, I am sorry, I didn’t want to scare you off, you’re my best friend and I don’t want that to change over a stupid thing that I said,” you defended yourself before even being accused of something.

“A stupid thing? Y/N, I said I wanted a sober conversation about it. I wanted to tell you that I feel the same way about you. But I didn’t want to say it last night, because drunken conversations on this matter won’t always end up good, talking from experience. Do you consider it only a stupid thing?” Josh spat out in a rush.

His words left you speechless. You could feel a slight itch in your eyes, the tingle before the tears and you could feel your heart drumming against your chest without any particular rhythm. “No- I didn’t mean that- I mean that I shouldn’t have just came to you out of the blue and said it like that and I am sorry.”

“Well I am not sorry you said it. But I want to hear the truth from you,” Josh started as he gradually got closer and closer to you, looking you straight into your Y/E/C eyes. “Do you mean it?”

“Yes, I do,” you stated in an instant. You could feel as if a heavy weight had just been taken off your heart. You didn’t know what was coming next, but for the moment you were relieved you managed to finally give away your feelings for Josh.

A smile spread across Josh’s lips, and you could see the happiness creeping into his tired eyes, that finally got back their familiar glow. “In this case, may I kiss you?”

You blushed at his words and just nodded. You felt like a teenager again, but it made you happy, so who cares?

Your eyes closed in anticipation, and soon, the awaited moment was there. Josh gently pressed his lips onto yours. You could feel the butterflies in your stomach going crazy from this. He made you feel this way and you loved it. Your lips pressed harder together and when Josh pulled away, he was basically shining from happiness and so were you.

“Y/N, thank you again for being in my life, you’re like a light sent from above during nighttime, you are guiding my way through life,” Josh whispered softly as your foreheads pressed together.

He grabbed your hand and interlocked your fingers. You could feel his soft skin against yours and you could feel his thumb drawing soft circles on your palm. You looked at him in awe.

“Before anything else, we are best friends, Y/N, right?” he asked as he looked at you.

“Best friends,” you answered him in a whisper.

Josh pressed his lips onto yours once again and once he pulled away, he lead you to the edge of the deck you were on.

Both of you sat down and took of your shoes. You dipped your feet in the cold water as you let your head fall onto Josh’s shoulder, while he held you close with a protective arm around your waist.

“It is so peaceful here,” you whispered, trying not to disrupt the silence.

“This is the sound of nature, sunshine,” Josh whispered back as he took in the whole situation. “Nature speaks a wonderful language, you know, but people need to observe and feel it.”

“And what language do you think it speaks?”

“I think that the language of love,” Josh whispered as he planted a kiss on your forehead. “Nature has love for each and every single one of us, and when it feels that the world is aware of the wonderful feeling that is love, it gives you as a gift, what you have always wanted.”

“And do you think we are worthy of this gift as you call it?” you ask as you look at the mountains’ reflection in the clear water.

“We already got it. This- this is our gift. Each other, in this wonderful peace, in a state of love.”

You smiled and looked up at him and cupped his cheek with your tiny hand. You got lost in his gaze. It was true after all, eyes indeed are the mirror of the soul. His eyes gave away a mix of feelings. You could see the way he looked at you, all the love and all the harmony that came your way was almost too much to take in.

“I love you,” Josh whispered as he got closer to you. Your heart fluttered at his words and you couldn’t believe that there you were, with the man of your dreams, sitting on a deck and confessing your love for one another.

“I love you too,” you whispered back as your lips got closer. The both of you were caught in a kiss that slowly got more and more passionate. You could basically feel the love that Josh was emanating and you felt like the luckiest girl in the world. Both of Josh’s arms slid around your waist and he held you close to his body.

“You are my sunshine, please don’t ever leave,” he whispered more to himself as he pulled away.

Your heart melted at his words.

You suddenly heard voices, coming from the other end of the deck. Both you and Josh, still caught up in your embrace, turned around to see the owners of the voices. To no surprise, they were Sam, Jake, Danny and Vic, high-fiving and grinning at each other.

“Josh’s got a girlfriend!” Jake shouted, a shout that echoed all around you.

You had no idea for how long they have been staying there, but little did you care.

Josh helped you stand up, while still holding an arm around your waist. You waited for the boys to approach you.

“Yeah, you’re right. She’s my girlfriend!” he smiled, showing you off and looked at you as if you were indeed, the light of his life.

The boys cheered and congratulated the two of you. Danny winked at you, as if to say “See I was right earlier”. You smiled at the whole situation, you couldn’t have asked for better friends.

“Now, let’s have some fun!” Sammy shouted and pushed both you and Josh into the cold lake, as he followed by jumping in fully dressed. In the next moments, everyone was in the water, shouting at the impact with it.

At first, you felt so cold, but soon it all went away. Sam splashed Jake and Danny, and soon the two of them joined their forces to splash Sammy back. Vic was observing them and joined in.

Josh swam to you, his usual soft curls now all wet, but he had the same adorable smile on his face. He reached for your hand underwater and held tight to it as he pecked your lips. “Don’t you ever forget that you are my sunshine.”

Tags: @myownparadise96, @jeordinevankiszka, @littlegeekwonder, @songbirdkisses

[currentlylurking]

Mechanism

(Originally written for Phic Phight, edited and posted for World Building Week Day 1: Sandbox Characters)

“Danny finds out that the Master of Time is actually an automaton created by the Observants. Clockwork still is his own person, but without using the key the Observants have to wind him up, he would stop working and 'die', if only temporarily. He doesn't want to work for them but has to. Danny doesn't like any of this.” Phic Phight Prompt by Ghostlyhabato.

Or: Danny commits treason in the name of helping a friend.

-

So. Danny had made a lot of mistakes in his life, but for the most part they’d worked out pretty well! Accidentally tripping Dash in elementary school had gotten him a determined bully, but also a best friend in Sam. Turning on the portal had gotten him electrocuted, but also given him superpowers.

Breaking into the Observatory was highly illegal and would probably get him killed, but if it worked, then Clockwork would be free.

.-.

Clockwork hadn’t told him about, well, anything to do with his body. Danny didn’t blame him, not really - Clockwork wanted to protect him. The Observants were power-hungry eyeball dicks, and they’d already made it clear that they were fine with killing him. Despite that, Danny would have preferred to find out any way other than he did. 

It was the evening of a massive mission to figure out what exactly Vlad’s latest plan was. ‘World Domination’ was a weird and unsatisfying answer, so while Danny and Jazz got their parents to trap him in a family dinner, Sam and Tucker snuck in to copy all of his files and see what the state of his lab was like. The plan had gone successfully - Vlad had been too busy being a creep to realize there was an ulterior motive - and the trio met in Sam’s batcave (also known as her audio/visual room) to check out the files. There, while trying to deal with a malfunctioning remote, they found a security clip from several months ago, back when Vlad still lived in Wisconsin.

The Fright Knight carried a limp and unconscious Clockwork into Vlad’s old lab and dumped him unceremoniously on the floor. Vlad took a moment to float and gloat as he waved a large, green key. On the second watch through, Danny recognized it as the same key that he’d used to lock Pariah up.

After far too long of just letting Clockwork lay there, Vlad finally placed the Crown of Fire in a ghost-proof cabinet and stopped his monologue. He turned to Clockwork, and pointed the key at him. After a moment, Fright Knight came over and the two bent over Clockwork.

Suddenly, Clockwork gasped, and the two pulled back. He sat up, a hand on his head, and stared at Vlad in confusion. Then he saw Fright Knight, and the confusion became fear.

“Hello,” Clockwork said.

Vlad didn’t return the ‘hello,’ because he was a jerk. “Arise, automaton,” he said instead because again, he was a jerk. “I am your new master.”

Clockwork looked unimpressed. “I have a name.”

“That doesn’t matter anymore,” Fright Knight said, “it hasn’t mattered since you turned your back on our king. Stand and face your new master, unless you’d like to spend a few more centuries forgotten in a closet.”

Clockwork gave him a long look before he floated off the ground. He frowned at Vlad, his arms crossed.

“I’ve been told you were created by the Observant Council to monitor time.” Vlad circled Clockwork like a stupid, creepy shark. “Explain that.”

Clockwork didn’t say anything. Vlad whirled around and grabbed Clockwork by his chin, and squeezed his cheeks as he pulled Clockwork closer.

“Don’t forget,” he held up the key, “I hold the power of your core in my hand.” He released Clockwork and went back to circling him. “We can do so much for each other, as long as you do what I say. So make this easier for all of us, Automaton, and just tell me how you work.”

“Clockwork,” Clockwork said. “My name isn’t ‘Automaton.’ It’s Clockwork.”

Vlad scowled for a moment before he lunged forwards and shoved the key into Clockwork’s case. For a second, Clockwork looked shocked, and Vlad whispered something in his ear. Clockwork collapsed, and he didn’t move again.

Vlad snapped his fingers, and Fright Knight came over to help drag Clockwork out of the camera’s view.

After the clip had ended, there had been a moment of silence among the trio. Then Danny had screamed and Sam and Tucker had to convince him that overshadowing the TV would not be a remotely functional way to save Clockwork.

.-.

When Vlad had released Vortex on Amity Park and Danny had to clean up that mess, he’d returned Vortex to the Observants. Not because he wanted to, but because as Tucker had said, if they wanted to help Clockwork they needed to know the enemy territory. Sam and Tucker had covered his suit with a hundred tiny cameras and sent him in. The Observants had welcomed his ‘show of faith in their council’ and been thankful that Danny returned Vortex without them having to lift a finger. He’d taken his time getting to the room the jailer Observant was in, and at the time had been sure he’d gotten a decent map of the place.

Now, he realized he was an idiot.

He was also lost.

The Observatory was one big pretentious maze, and nowhere near as cool as placed named ‘the Observatory’ should be. He hadn’t been caught yet, but he’d also had to turn human and dive through five walls already to avoid Observants in the halls. Even if his map was right originally, he was so far off from it that he might as well burn it for warmth instead. Plus, someone had the bright idea to draw a bunch of eyes on the walls, and that just made Danny paranoid. Every step he took made him hate his stupid plan more.

But for Clockwork’s sake, he kept going.

.-.

It took just under an hour to find the next time in the security footage that Vlad and Fright Knight dragged out Clockwork. Again, they dumped him on the ground, but this time the second Clockwork started to stir Vlad passed the key off to Fright Knight and dropped a metal disk beside him. A domed shield sprung up around Clockwork before he’d even sat up.

“Did you have a nice nap?” Vlad asked, “Perhaps you’ll be willing to be a bit more reasonable now that you’ve rested.”

Clockwork said nothing. He stared at the floor.

“Hm, have you used up all your quips?” Vlad asked, and slowly took a few steps closer to the dome. “How incredibly unfortunate. I was almost hoping you’d make this interesting, but this works just as well.” He glanced at Fright Knight, and on the other side of the screen, Tucker had to hold Danny back from flying into the TV to punch Vlad’s stupid, evil smile right off his face.

“What do you want me to do?” Clockwork sounded so defeated, and Tucker didn’t manage to hold Danny back this time.

They were right; overshadowing the TV did not help.

.-.

An Observant came around the corner.

Danny froze.

The Observant froze.

Danny caught sight of a bright green key in their hand.

“Guards!” The Observant screamed, and Danny coiled his ghostly tail like a spring. The second the Observant looked back at him, he launched himself forwards and switched back to his human form. His hands curled around the key as he passed through the Observant, bending them back, and ripping the key from their shocked fingers with the weight of his entire body. He tucked, rolled, and tried to dive through a wall. The key wouldn’t follow. It wasn’t a real world item.

Uh-oh.

Danny poked his head back into the hallway to see seven furious Observants floating there, glaring at him, and reaching for the key in his hand. 

Danny pointed a finger gun at the nearest one. “Sup?”

“Step out of the wall,” they demanded, and Danny did. “Drop the key.”

Danny switched right back to his ghost form and took a deep breath in. If we was going to be caught anyway, he might as well go out in style. “NO!”

.-.

After they had, er, ‘fixed’ Danny’s attempt to overshadow the TV, Tucker found where they’d left off.

Vlad had smirked, leaning in towards Clockwork like the jerk he was. “Very good! And they say old technology is obsolete. Now, I’ve been told you have time powers?”

Danny expected a sarcastic comment, something along the lines of ‘my name is Clockwork. No, I have space powers.’ Failing that, a glare. All he got was Clockwork giving Fright Knight an anxious glance.

“That’s right,” Clockwork said.

“Can you travel through it?”

Clockwork was silent for a second. “I’ll... need to make a portal - a mirror. It’ll take some time. But yes.”

“Can you take people with you?”

Clockwork glanced at Fright Knight again. “...It’ll take a bit longer. But yes.”

“Good,” Vlad said. He sounded exactly like the smarmy dick they all knew he was. Sam whacked Danny with a pillow when he stood up, ready to fight the TV once again.

On the screen, Vlad continued. “Get started on that then. Don’t try and leave this lab.”

Clockwork’s lip twitched in the faintest trace of annoyance. “I can’t just do it,” he said. His voice was carefully neutral. “I need tools. And a work space.”

“Of course you do,” Vlad said, and stepped away from Clockwork. He turned towards Fright Knight, and Clockwork looked down.

They hadn’t skipped a section of the footage, they’d made sure of that. Besides, Vlad was still in the same pose. It was Fright Knight and Clockwork who had changed positions. Halfway across the lab now, they were both engaged in a vicious tug-of-war over the key. The footage of Vlad whipped around to face them as Fright Knight brought up his knee and smashed it into Clockwork’s case. Glass shattering pierced the poor quality audio, and on the other side of the screen, the trio’s excited whoops turned to terrified screams.

Clockwork was knocked back, into a bench at an angle that looked like it had nearly broken him in half, and he fell to the floor in a lump. But he had the key in his hand. 

Fright Knight bent down as Vlad ran over, spitting Russian curses as he reached their side. Fright Knight’s fingers grazed the key, and Clockwork pulled it under his broken form.

“Y-you,” Clockwork’s voice caught and dragged. Some syllables he struggled with. Others stretched out for far too long, or were distorted to the point they barely sounded like anything but clicking and grinding. Despite the trio’s best effort, they barely managed to translate any of what he said. “N-n-no. This - it’s -it’s mine. Minemineminemine -” Clockwork jerked with a gasp, and the words stopped.

Vlad switched to his ghost form and smacked Fright Knight. “You’ve broken it!”

“It just needs to be rewound,” he kicked a shard, “and that case replaced. If you’re as smart as you say, that should be easy.” He kicked Clockwork aside now, and reached for the key once more.

It was then that perhaps twenty Observants all appeared in Vlad’s lab.

On the footage, Vlad screamed. Danny would have enjoyed his fear, it it wasn’t for the fact that he’d just watched someone he considered a friend being seriously assaulted. None of the trio took any joy from Vlad’s fear as he backed up, hands raised. Fright Knight followed suit. He hadn’t managed to grab the key. That was still on the ground next to the beat, broken, unmoving form of the Master of Time. 

“Observant High Council,” Vlad said, trying to regain all the control over this mess that he’d lost the moment he screamed. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

One Observant grabbed the key. Another two carelessly lifted Clockwork off the floor by his arms. Clockwork’s limp head lulled forwards as they pulled him up.

“Excuse me,” Vlad started, “I believe that’s mine -”

“You are charged with damaging property belonging to the Observant High Council.” Five of them said at once, “What is your plea?”

“Wha- that’s yours?” Vlad tried to regain his composure. He turned to Fright Knight as a furious snarl began to climb up his features. “My apologies. I was unaware. Of course I would have returned it to you if I had been informed -”

“Be silent,” an Observant said, and miraculously, Vlad shut up. “Do not push the blame for your actions onto another. What is your plea?”

“Again, my apologies,” Vlad said. “I have done nothing wrong, I merely wished to understand this strange automaton. If I had known of your ties to it -”

“So you are guilty?” The one holding the key interrupted.

“I have not -” Vlad didn’t get to finish his sentence. The Observants raised their hands, and everyone in the lab disappeared. All that was left was a long, green stain where Clockwork had laid, many shards of broken glass, and a few small gears. After a day of empty footage, an Observant appeared to collect them.

The next time Vlad was seen in his lab was nearly three weeks later. He came through his portal frazzled, furious, and alone.

.-.

The trio didn’t know a lot about Clockwork. Danny knew the most, and from that he knew he couldn’t just show up and say “hey, I know about you potentially being a robot or something? Just wanted to say I’m totally cool with it.” Not only would Clockwork freak out at him, but that wouldn’t solve anything. 

It was difficult to tell how that evolved into ‘let’s rob the ruling power of the Ghost Zone’ but there had been a few common themes. All this had taken place before Danny and Clockwork met, and Clockwork had been repaired by then. He’d had his own, albeit tiny, place. Danny had never seen Clockwork and the Observants together, but from the way Clockwork talked about them he definitely didn’t like them. 

Everyone had been calling Clockwork ‘it,’ like they were just some thing. Vlad had said the Observants created them, and they’d called him ‘their property.’ They hadn’t handled him like they were worried about hurting him worse. Fright Knight had told Clockwork to listen to Vlad unless he wanted to be forgotten in a closet for a few more centuries.

It hadn’t been a decision, really. They’d pooled everything they’d learned together, and the trio knew without a doubt that none of them would be another person who treated Clockwork like garbage. They were going to help him, no matter what.

No matter what.

.-.

Danny dropped to his knees and his human form. Injured Observants had been blasted through the walls that had been caught in his wail, and an alarm blared in the distance. He glanced down at his hands; the key was still clasped tight enough in his left hand that his knuckles had turned white.

He’d gotten caught. They’d know he’d stolen the key. Danny would have a warrant out for his arrest long before he got to Clockwork’s - if he even got out. If they didn’t catch him first. But Danny had the key, and the second he got to the tower it would stay with Clockwork, right where it belonged.

Clockwork had saved his life, and now Danny was going to return the favour. He was going to do this. He was going to get out, get to Clockwork’s, and save his friend. He was going to do it.

Danny picked himself up off the floor, one hand on his ribs, and started to limp down one unshattered hall. The alarm blared above him, and he swore more than before that this time, the eyes on the walls really did follow him as he left.

[alexandriteobscuraarchive]

~You can't tell me that the assistant---both shyly frustrated and wanting attention---wouldn't just tug on the doctor's tie. (drabble go! uwu)

((hahaah ahah ha a h–))

The periods of rest were getting far more frequent; their visitors (never ‘sacrifices’, not on this floor) were, appropriately, getting fewer. Was there trouble on the surface? Who could say. They only did as they were bidden and when free time was awarded they could do as they liked—so long as rules were still obeyed.

The clink and rattle of jars—not to mention the rest of the paraphernalia on the floor—were organized with a steady almost intricate flair, the hands doing the work were obviously well versed in the action; but whether by repetition or some internal catalogue of the doctor’s the young woman couldn’t say. She merely followed along dutifully and took whatever he handed to her and carried it until he needed it again, flashing a brief smile occasionally that was always returned in kind.

The strange pair went from room to room straightening and organizing until the reached the very back room—not the one with the most jars or that weird little machine—but one even further from that. It served as an office of sorts as well as a adjoined bedroom. Because while the doctor had no issue sleeping on one of the couches in the lobby or god forbid one of the beds in the patients’ ‘rooms’ she certainly did. It was—and this was an ironic way to feel given the circumstances—too o p e n. Even in such an already confined space the young woman yearned for privacy or at least a place that wasn’t visited save for by the doctor and herself which is what this room was for her.

Pages of notes and diagrams both written and drawn in an even hand are deposited onto a desk situated by the far wall. Blue gaze skims over these notes faintly as if trying to understand them and knowing full well that she wouldn’t be able to—not without asking or learning something she’d best leave alone, that was. It was just a deflection anyway. Here she was; alone with the person she wanted to be alone with and with free time and she couldn’t look at him.

She must’ve been lost in thought—or perhaps fuming far too hard over her lack of ability as she looked at the even stack of notes because when the doctor’s voice finally reaches her (how long had he been speaking??) she jumps.

“—-Aha there you are! You finally looked at me.”

“S–sorry doctor I was just, uh…”

“…Daydreaming? That’s not unusual for you.” His tone was playfully helpful, the smile present on his features adding a lilt to his words as he spoke. “I actually had to call your name a few times to get your attention! You must’ve been thinking about something complicated.”

“Ah..I…y-yes….” No, not really—not at all actually.

“Did you want to enlighten me? I can help you know!” As if he didn’t know. As if he could miss the faint blush spreading on the other’s cheeks the second he offers assistance, a flush that only gets darker and easier to ‘read’ as Danny slowly gets to his feet and approaches her. He doesn’t have far to go and then he’s casually leaning into her space, mismatched eyes peering at her through his recently cleaned spectacles. “Cat got your tongue my dear? No need to be shy!” The asshole.

Her own gaze drops from his face momentarily—a reflexive movement spurned by nerves that he’s quick to correct with a hand settling underneath her chin and tilting her head back up. Her looking away from him even for a moment wouldn’t do, not at all. Not ever, not if he had his way. “Now now, Kala, no need to look away! If you can’t t e l l me then s h o w me.”

Hands that had been fiddling restlessly with the bottom of her shirt finally loosen and rise upwards as her mouth presses down into a thin line, the blush on her features darkening by degrees the longer he’s near. This is what she’d wanted, after all: Privacy. Fingers that are trembling visibly eventually curl around the man’s tie and tug faintly and when no reaction is awarded she tugs a bit harder, her gaze shifting what minimal degree it can away from him in the process. If she were a braver person she could (and undoubtedly would) yank him towards her and just take what she wanted—that tantalizing destruction of personal space in a closed off, quiet room—but she was still painfully shy and, as a result, got teased about it rather cruelly. Like a mouse caught by a mischievous cat.

“Oho, is that it…?” Phrased as if he didn’t know all along—the smile present on his features gaining a different appeal to it, a darker tone now edging into his voice. Of course he knew, just as he knew his assistant was fun to toy with. She shuts her eyes–a thing that he actually allows for once, as he closes the gap of remaining space. His fingers curl around the wrist of the hand trying to bring him closer and holds it between them as he leans in to nuzzle to the top of her head. “Not good enough huh? You’re just too short for things like this—”

The break off was a cue—and one that she reacts a little bit too late to. She let’s out an undoubtedly amusing? cute? startled yelp as both of his hands now grasp her hips and lift her bodily until she’s seated on the desk. Now they’re almost nose to nose and the doctor grins at her fully. “There~Better! Now we can both get what we want.”

His lips pressing firmly against her forehead draw a whimper from her on top of a reflexive squirm–not that she has many options there. His grip on her hips is steady and she has no where to go except for further along the desk towards the wall or….

The thought wrings a gasp from her or maybe it’s him pulling on her like he is a thing that is all but immediately stolen by his mouth suddenly pressing on her own. His hands finally shift, now moving eagerly to cup the sides of her face. The kiss is brief—almost chaste, one last reprieve and then he’s pulling away just barely and speaking again, his gaze locked onto her own. No closing her eyes or deflecting now. “Aw, not going to put your arms around me? A shame, you were being quite bold before. Hmm, what if I give you an incentive…” Daniel trails off, his ever busy hands moving once more. One tilts her head to the side while the other settles on her hip again–but rather than merely grasp as it did before his fingers and palm lay flat, slowly rubbing in small strokes and steadily getting closer to the top of her thigh. Teeth nip briefly at the crook of her neck making her squirm harder which only serves to heighten the ministration of his touches. “We could take this to a nicer spot but you’ll have to start talking for that. Come now, tell me what’s on your mind….”

[smolboiseavey]

I Wanna Be Just Like You // Werewolf! Daniel Seavey x Reader

Summary: Daniel and Y/N have been dating for a couple months now and he decides to take her back to his family's pack in Seattle. After learning more about Daniel and the werewolf culture, Y/N gets frustrated because she can't seem to fit in.

I recommend you read Sugar, Spice and Everything Nice before reading this, but you don't have to read it to understand this one.

 Warnings: literally like not much lol just some angst, violence and werewolves. Maybe some cursing too.

 6,386 words (omg!!!)

Taglist: @gracenadinelimelight @softavery @katie-avery @seaveyssparkle @kvd963 @dagmara-mae @jennasgolden @helloatomicshadow @sfx-bands @only-stan-mendes @whydontwenorway

~~~

"How much longer until we get there?" You laid your head on the window, watching the scenery and snowflakes fly by as the car sped down the highway. Mountains lined the horizon, the sun casting brilliant orange and pink light behind them. You and Daniel were currently driving to his family's home town, making the 15 hour trip there on wheels.

Daniel let out a chuckle, one hand lazily resting on your thigh, his eyes trained on the road. "Maybe another half hour, love. We're almost there." He replied. You laced your fingers with his, smiling at him.

"So how do you like Oregon so far?"

"It's pretty." You say, turning back to the window. "Can we go for a hike sometime soon?"

"Definitely. Are you sure you'll be able to keep up with me, though?" He replied teasingly, making you scoff. "Just because I'm human doesn't mean I can't handle a little bit of exercise." He brought your intertwined hands up to his lips, planting a kiss on yours. "Sure you can." He chuckled, "Oh look! We're here."

Daniel turned to the left, driving into a small town. The buildings were very spread out, miles of forest behind them. Piles of snow lined the streets, a few people walking by here and there. The car came to a stop at a red light. "This is the town I grew up in." He said, breaking the silence. You smiled, looking through the windows at the location. "It's cozy." You replied as Daniel kept driving, the light now green. "God, it's been so long. You're gonna love it here, I promise."

You had just finished your current semester of school, so you were spending a month with Daniel in his home town for winter break. He drove down the road, houses looming in the distance. At the end of the path stood one house which towered over the others, brightness streaming out of all the windows. The sun was long gone, street lamps illuminated the pavement with soft yellow light. Daniel pulled up to said house, parking in the long driveway behind many other vehicles. "Ready?" He asked, his blue eyes bright with excitement and joy. You smiled, nodding in response. "As ready as I'll ever be."

"Well, come on now. Mom said to just come in, some servants will be out soon to take our stuff in." He said, taking his seat belt off.

"Servants?" You asked as you clicked the red button to your left, letting the polyester strap slide off of your body.

He nodded, confused at your confusion. "It's a normal thing? This is the pack house, where most of the leaders and their families live. So yeah, servants."

"Oh. So I'm guessing your family is..."

"My dad's the alpha." He said casually, opening the door.

Oh-

"T-that's cool." You stutter, getting out of the car and closing the door behind you.

Daniel started walking to the house, and you followed close behind. He waltzed right into the door, a wide grin on his face.

The house was very open, but cozy. To the left was the kitchen, where a few older ladies were bustling around cooking. To the right was a large staircase, spiraling up to the second floor. Children ran around the space, chasing each other through the halls. The soft hum of chatter and laughter filled the room. The room opened up ahead, couches positioned in a U-shape around a large flat screen TV. A few people sat there, deep in conversation. Large windows took the place of the back wall, revealing the midnight blue sky and silhouettes of the trees and mountains.

"I'm home!" Daniel announced loudly, smiling.

"Daniel?"

"Daniel!"

A swarm of people surrounded the two of you as you closed the heavy front door behind you. An older woman pulled him into a hug, planting a kiss on his cheek. "I missed you." She said, a smile tugging at her lips.

"I missed you too, mom."

"Did you bring a human with you?" A man asked suddenly, the room falling silent.

"Erm...yeah." Daniel grabbed your hand and pulled you closer to his body. "This is my mate, Y/N."

"Mate?"

"I thought his mate was that wolf he brought back last time. Charlotte, I think-"

"How did you know I'm human?" You asked.

The man chuckled, the deep sound filling the room. "Your scent, dear. It's quite easy to tell." His voice was stern, but his blue eyes were bright with amusement.

"Dad, stop teasing her!" Daniel groaned.

"Alright, alright. Come on everyone, let's give the couple some space." He said with a smile. The crowd slowly dispersed, only two people were left besides you and Daniel.

"It's nice to meet you, Y/N. Daniel has said many good things about you." Daniel's mom said with a smile.

"It's nice to meet you too, Mrs. Seavey." You replied, returning the smile.

"Please, call me Keri." She said, giving you a quick hug. "I'll be in the kitchen making dinner if you need me. You'll be staying in Daniel's old room, and all of your things should already be there."

"Thanks mom." He said as she walked off.

"Danny!" A small figure hurled at him, landing in his arms.

A tiny girl, no older than ten hugged his torso tight as he spun her around in circles. "Reese! You've gotten so big." He said with a laugh, holding her.

"I grew 3 inches!" She said to him, holding out three fingers. "I even changed into my wolf yesterday!"

"Oh really? Congrats!"

You smiled at the sight of Daniel and Reese, stepping back to give them space.

"Who's that?" She asked, pointing at you.

"That's my mate, Y/N."

She stuck her tongue out at you and turned back to him. "Why is she human?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why isn't she a wolf too?"

"She's just...a little different."

"Oh."

Well, isn't that reassuring.

"Mhm. She's like Aunt Keri."

Reese nodded thoughtfully, her face contorting into a serious expression. "Interesting."

Daniel chuckled, setting her back down on her feet. "Why don't you go play with Isla and Svea? Y/N and I still need to unpack."

"You're staying?" She asked excitedly, her eyes lighting up.

"Yep! For a whole month."

"Yay! Come play with us when you're done, okay?"

"I will, Reese. Now come on, they're probably waiting for you."

"Bye Danny!" She ran off with a smile on her face.

Daniel is so good with kids.

You couldn't keep the smile off of your face as you watched him usher her away.

He sighed, turning back towards you. "What?"

"What? Oh- nothing." You reply, your cheeks red with embarrassment.

"I know that look, Y/N." He said as you followed him up the stairs.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, come on Y/N. Don't deny it. What were you thinking about?" He pressed as you walked up to the third floor and down the hall. He walked past the rows of doors and windows before stopping in front of a door at the end of the corridor. He grasped the gold handle in his right hand, pushing the door open with ease. "I was just thinking." You replied as you walked in close behind him.

"Ah, exactly the way I left it." The spacious room was painted blue, a city skyline painted on one wall. A large bed was pushed to one side, a desk to the other. Two large windows let in some moonlight, illuminating the room with pale light. By the desk were rows of instruments, a microphone, and speakers, almost identical to his musical set-up at your house in LA. Daniel flopped down on the bed face first, letting out a loud, happy sigh.

“Come lay with me.”

You walked over to the bed, laying down next to him. He turned his face so that he was no longer facing the sheets and smiled at you.

“Don’t we have to unpack?” You asked, giggling. He pulled you onto his chest, wrapping his long arms around your waist. “We have time.” He replied, burying his head in your hair. “Let me spend time with my mate first.”

You smiled, drawing lazy circles on his shoulder.

“What’s it like being a werewolf?” You asked curiously after a brief moment of silence.

He stayed silent for a while, thinking. “It’s hard to explain.” He replied, “I guess it’s kind of like having a voice in your head that’s telling you what to do.” He laughed. “Oh, and the wolf thing. I don’t think I’d ever be able to explain that.”

You giggled, placing a small kiss on his cheek. “It’s okay if you can’t explain it, Danny. I just wanna get to know this side of you better.”

He nodded, drawing you closer.

Silence filled the room again, until you spoke up suddenly.

“What does it feel like to have a mate? In your perspective, I guess.”

“It’s the best feeling in the entire world.” He murmured, nipping at your ear with his teeth playfully. “But kind of annoying, at first.”

“What do you mean?”

“Having to wait so long, watching you date other people, not being able to be as close as I wanted to be for so long. God, seeing you with your scumbag ex made me almost lose it.” He let out a low growl. “I’m glad he left. Since you’re my mate, I can feel your feelings too. I could sense you were miserable with him.” He explained, “When you’re sad, I’m sad. When you’re happy, I’m happy.”

“Is that supposed to happen to me too?”

He shook his head. “You’re human, so your soul won’t feel it the same way mine does.”

“Oh.” You mumbled. “I’m sorry I made you wait so long. I wish I knew.”

“It’s okay, baby.” He replied, “I’d wait a million years for you if I had to.”

You smiled, kissing his cheek lovingly.

A knock interrupted the moment, making Daniel sit up. “God dammit Jack. What do you want?”

“Wow, Hello to you too Daniel. Dinner is almost ready. Come downstairs when you’re done doing um...whatever you’re doing.” Jack said with a chuckle, closing the door and walking out.

Daniel groaned, laying back down next to you. “I don’t wanna go all the way back downstairs. I wanna say with you.” He whined, playing with your hair.

You laughed, sitting up. “Come on, Danny. We should get ready and go.” He pouted and sat up.

“Fine, whatever.”

~~~

“She’s a quiet one. Now if Charlotte were here-“

“Myta, don’t tease her.”

“Y/N is just a little shy, that’s all.” Daniel said, standing up for you.

You sat at the large, round dining table, slowly eating your food as the families around you discussed whatever was on their minds.

“So when are you two going to have pups?”

You stopped eating immediately, almost choking.

“Dad!”

“You know, when your mother and I were your age we-“

Zach cleared his throat, stopping Daniel’s father mid-sentence.

“I’m sorry for interrupting you Alpha, but we’re trying to eat? I’d rather not talk about babies right now.”

“I agree with Zach. Luna makes good food.” Jack said, his mouth full.

Daniel put his hand on your thigh, rubbing small circles into your skin with his thumb.

“Are you alright?” He whispered to you, concern lacing his tone. You nodded in response, sending him a small smile. “Yeah.” You replied softly, lacing your fingers with his. He gave you a smile back, rejoining the conversation his parents were having.

“Are Corbyn and Christina coming soon?” Jonah asked, looking over at you from across the table.

“Yep, she texted me earlier. They’re driving up now.” You replied with a smile.

“Corbyn and Christina are your friends from LA right?” Keri asked. The boys nodded.

“Oh, Corbyn isn’t apart of your pack?” You asked curiously.

Daniel shook his head. “He’s from a pack in Virginia. We met him in LA.”

“Ohhh okay.”

The room filled with the comfortable hum of chatter as you all finished your meals with no further interruptions.

“Anyone want dessert?”

~~~

You sat in front of a ceiling-high window in the living room, a cup of tea from Keri in your hands as you gazed up at the stars. Everyone else had gone off to their rooms, resting for the day ahead. You, on the other hand, couldn’t sleep. You had gone out of Daniel’s room and went downstairs, where Keri found you. She was just about to head upstairs so she made ginger lemon tea for you to try to help your restlessness.

Maybe it was the change in time, keeping you awake or the occasional howls from the wolves outside, but it was mostly your thoughts keeping you awake.

Would they like me more if I was a werewolf?

Who is Charlotte? Would Daniel have ended up with her if he didn’t meet me?

“Couldn’t sleep, huh?” A voice sounded behind you, making you jump. You turned to find Daniel walking towards you, his face contorting with concern.

You shook your head as he sat down next to you, draping a plush blanket over your shoulders.

“No. How’d you know?”

He chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“I can feel when you’re not near me. Oh, and mom told me on her way to her room.”

You leaned into his chest, warmth radiating off of him. You took a small sip from the mug in your hands.

“Why couldn’t you sleep?”

You shrugged in response, your eyes drawing back towards the scenery outside.

He sighed, the moonlight making his blue eyes twinkle. “Come on, babe. You can talk to me.”

You shook your head, looking back up at him. “I was just...thinking. I’m not used to this whole werewolf thing yet, I guess.”

“Oh.” He mumbled, rubbing his neck awkwardly. “I know, it’s a little weird at first. You don’t have to stay the whole time with me if you’re uncomfortable.”

“No, no it’s fine. I just need a little time to get used to it.” You said with a smile.

“Okay.” He said, returning the smile with a toothy grin of his own. “Nothing else is bothering you?”

“Nope.”

He sighed, the smile falling as soon as it appeared. “You’re lying.”

“What?”

“Y/N, you may be good at hiding it, but you’re not going to get anything past me.” He chuckled. “When you lie, your heart speeds up a couple beats and you bite your lip.”

“Oh.”

“Come on, you can tell me. Spit it out.”

“Who’s Charlotte?”

He froze, his tongue darting out and swiping across his lips. He looked down, taking your tiny hands in his large ones. “She...was a friend. We were really close, and everyone thought we were mates, or that at least we’d end up together. Then I found out she was only close to me because she wanted to be Luna.” He blurted out, “She only talked to me because of my status. I ditched her a long time ago and haven’t seen her since.”

“I’m sorry I asked.”

“It’s fine Y/N.” He pulled you closer and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “Lets go to bed now, yeah?”

You nodded, letting out a small yawn.

“Alright. Come on, sleepy.”

~~~

The next few days were quite uneventful, full of small conversations with family and watching Daniel train with the boys. You sat at the side of the field with Christina, watching as they playfully tackled each other.

“Daniel! Don’t hit me I’m wEAK-“

He laughed, running at Jack. “You’re not weak, Beta.”

“I’m weak compared to you, so sToP!”

“Cheeseitz, they’re so aggressive.” You said, shivering as snowflakes started falling from the light gray sky.

“Well duh, they’re werewolves.” Christina said with a chuckle, “You should see them when they’re actually being serious.”

Daniel grabbed onto Jack, pinning him down on the snow covered ground.

“Jonah! Help please.”

The older boy swooped in, pulling the curly-haired boy from Daniel’s grasp.

“Hey! Not fair.” He groaned, getting up.

Corbyn scribbled something down on his clipboard before walking over to the three boys. “Actually, very fair. You’re stronger than both of them combined, future Alpha. See, your endurance...” They continued talking about stats, looking over whatever data was written on the papers in Corbyn’s hands.

“Alpha?” You asked Christina.

She nodded. “You didn’t know Daniel was an Alpha?”

You shook your head. “I don’t think he’s ever mentioned it, besides the fact that his dad is one.”

“He’s always been so self conscious of his status.” Christina said. “We should go inside, it’s snowing harder and our puny human bodies can only last so long in the cold.” She joked, “I can tell you more about it inside.”

“Yeah, let’s go inside, I’m freezing.”

You walked inside with her, slowly peeling off layers of jackets the second you got inside and closed the glass door.

“So, what do you want to know?” Christina asked as you both sat down in the living room.

“Everything.”

~~~

“Wait wait wait. So you’re saying I have to-“

“Whatcha two talking about?” Daniel walked in, wrapping his arms around you as he sat down next to you.

“Not much.” Christina said with a smile. “Oh look, Corbyn needs me. I’ll be back.” She got up and walked out of the living room, leaving you two alone.

“You’re sweaty.”

Daniel laughed, rubbing his cheek on your shoulder. “I’ll rub my sweat all over you then.”

“Ew! Go shower.” You giggled, pushing him away playfully. He pinned your hands above you and peppered kisses all over your face.

“You’re not getting away from me anytime soon.”

He pulled you into a tight hug, wrapping his limbs around your torso, his dripping hair and neck up against your chest.

“Hey, Daniel?” A servant walked in, his tone urgent.

“Yes? What is it?” He looked up, slightly annoyed.

“It’s your father.”

The annoyance went away quickly and he got up from the ground.

“Please, follow me.” The servant walked out of the room and down the hall, Daniel close behind. You got up, curiously following them slowly.

“-yes, it’s very bad. The healers might not be able to do much this time, Alpha.”

“Don’t call me that. He’ll be fine, we have the best healers here.” The door closed, their conversation now muffled. You slipped in, closing the door behind you. Daniel’s father lay in a bed in the middle of the room, his eyes closed and his skin papery and pale. Keri sat next to the bed, her hand in her husband’s, a grim look on her face. Daniel sat at her feet, his head in her lap. Doctors and servants rushed around the room silently, the only sound came from the beeping of the heart monitor in the corner of the room.

Keri looked up at you and gave you a small smile. As you walked over to them. You sat down behind Daniel, wrapping your around around him.

“Is he going to be okay?” You muttered, concerned. Keri shook her head and let out a sigh. “No.” She replied sadly, “Jeff is strong, but he’s an elder wolf and has had too much contact with silver over the years. He’s a bit weak and won’t recover for a while.”

Daniel turned around, burying his face in your shoulder, his tears leaving stains on your shirt. “I don’t want him to go.” he mumbled.

“It’ll be alright,” you cooed into his ear softly, massaging his scalp with your fingers. “He’ll live, I promise.”

Keri looked down at her son with sad eyes. She looked as if she wanted to say something, but she kept her mouth shut. Her eyes drifted back to her husband.

A doctor walked over to you and Daniel and nudged your shoulder lightly. “You two should go.” He said, “Daniel needs some sleep, and it’s getting late.”

You nodded, getting up. Daniel got up with you, his movements sluggish as you walked him upstairs and to his bedroom. He stumbled into the room and collapsed on the bed as you closed the door. He looked over at you, his once bright eyes now a dull blue.

“Come here.”

You walked over to him and sat on the bed next to him. “Are you okay?” You asked, playing with a lock of his hair.

He shook his head.

“You know, your dad is in good hands. He won’t-“

“You’d think I’d know that, I lived here for 18 years. It’s not that.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

He shook his head again and took your small hand in his larger one. “Can you run me a bath, please?” He mumbled, “Like back in LA?”

You nodded, pulling him to his feet. “But talk to me, please? I can’t help you if I don’t know what you’re thinking.”

“Oh yeah, you’re not a wolf.” He muttered. “Fine.”

You frowned at his comment but quickly pushed your feelings away.

“Come on, you glum chum. You’re still sweaty as fuck from earlier.”

You dragged him into the adjoined bathroom, turning on the lights as you walked in. He plopped down on the closed toilet, watching you as you prepared a bath for him.

You got up after getting it ready, waiting for the water to fill the porcelain tub.

“So are you going to tell me what’s wrong now?”

He pulled his shirt off of his body and shrugged. “I guess.”

You let out a sigh and hugged him, his arms wrapping around your thighs and his head resting against your stomach. He nuzzled into your shirt lovingly as you massaged his scalp. “It’s not necessarily the fact that my dad is injured. It’s happened loads of times, he’s a strong wolf and always recovers. Besides, he’s got another like 100 years to live.” He tugged at his socks and pulled them off, throwing them into a pile of dirty clothes nearby. “It’s just the fact that he’s not strong enough to lead the pack anymore. When he steps down, I have to take over. It’s stupid.” You pulled away from him and turned off the water, the bathtub now full. You mixed in some bath salts as Daniel peeled away his sweatpants and boxers. He sunk into the water, only his head and shoulders sticking out. “Why don’t you want to take over the pack?” You asked as you sat down on the tile floor next to the tub. He sighed, leaning his head back on the wall. “Well first of all, we’d have to move here permanently and I know your family is in LA. Second of all, it’s so much work. I hate it. My stupid older brothers are off doing their own things so I’m stuck taking over the pack.” You frowned, pouring shampoo into your hand before lathering it into his wet hair.

“I know you don’t like it, but it’s your responsibility Daniel. How would your parents feel if you backed out?”

He stayed silent for a moment, thinking. He sighed, leaning into your hands as you washed his hair. “You’re right. I guess it’ll be fine.”

“You’re a natural leader, Danny. It really shouldn’t be too hard for you.” You rinsed the soap from his hair with water before getting up and retrieving a towel from the closet.

“Join me.” He said as you placed the towel on the counter.

You slowly stripped out of your clothes before stepping into the steaming water. You sat down on his thighs, pouring more soap into your hands and washing his body.

“You’re so spoiled.” You joked with a chuckle, running your hands over his chest.

“That’s only because people like spoiling me.” He replied, his eyes fluttering shut. “They just fall for my natural charm.”

“Yeah, sure.” You said, rubbing his arms, his biceps slightly bulging with muscle.

“Well you certainly did.” He said, his eyes opening again.

“That’s true.” You replied, “I guess you’re not that bad.”

He captured your lips with his, his arms around your waist. He pulled away, his eyes traveling up and down your body. “I’m glad you think so.” He mumbled, his eyes falling back on yours. He pulled you closer, chest on chest, your head on his shoulder.

“I’m gonna fill you up with my pups one day.” He muttered in your ear, his hand traveling down your back.

You felt your body heat up more despite the hot water surrounding you.

He chuckled, playing with a strand of hair that escaped your bun. “You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed.” He said, making you blush more. “Shut up.” He nipped at your neck playfully, his mouth suckling on your sweet skin.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Danny.”

~~~

2 weeks had passed since you arrived, everything seemed to have fallen into routine. Daniel usually woke up hours before you, sitting with his father in the morning before training outside for the rest of the day. You did your best to be useful, both you and Christina helping Keri with whatever you could.

“You do know you’ll have to take my place soon, right?”

“Wait, I have to become Luna?”

“You’re Daniel’s mate, aren’t you?”

You nodded, playing with the hem of your sweater.

She let out a small sigh, giving you a look of sympathy. “I know it seems a bit daunting, but trust me, you’ll do great.”

You nodded again, trying your best to believe Keri’s words.

The door opened, revealing a shirtless Daniel. Sweat dripped down his neck, his hair a disheveled mess. You smiled at him as he walked towards you. “How was training?” You asked him.

He flopped onto the ground in front of you and Keri. “Tiring.” He mumbled, “Mommy can I have some food please?”

She nodded and walked to the kitchen, leaving you alone with him.

“Being an Alpha is so much work.” He groaned, turning to lay on his back.

You chuckled and sat on the floor next to him, petting his hair. “My big, strong Alpha. You should take a break.” You mumbled with a giggle. He let out a small purr, leaning into your touch.

“Stopppp.” He groaned, trying to pull away.

“Why? You obviously like it.”

“True.” He sighed, “but if you tell anyone, you’re dead. No one can see me like this but you, okay?”

“Okay.” You chuckled. He turned his head to the side and placed a small kiss on your hand.

“Come on, let’s go get food.” He said, hopping up. “I’m hungry.”

~~~

“Would we be different if I were a werewolf?”

It was a late night, and you couldn’t sleep once again. Moonlight pooled on the ground where you sat next to the bed. Daniel laid half-asleep on the mattress, barely paying attention to what you said.

“No.” He mumbled, his eyes fluttering shut. “I don’t think so.”

He reached out weakly towards you, hooking his finger onto yours. You looked away from the window and at him. He slept peacefully, tiny grunts and growls leaving his parted lips.

“I just-“ you heaved out a sigh. “I’m just a bit frustrated, I guess? Even though I’m not the only human, I know almost nothing about the culture and stuff. How am I going to be a Luna if I don’t even know the basics?” You groaned, “Half of them probably don’t even like me.”

Silence. You and your dumb ass, you shouldn’t have said anything.

“Come here.” He mumbled, tugging at your hand with his finger. As you got up, he pulled you onto the bed and into his arms, your head on his chest, a hand in your hair.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, my love.” He whispered lovingly, nuzzling your cheek with his nose, just as he would in wolf form. “You’ll be great, I can feel it.”

“Yeah but-“

“No buts.” He mumbled into your ear, “if you’re still kind of iffy about it, you can talk to my mom. She was in the same situation as you are now.”

“Okay, I’ll talk to her tomorrow then.” You mumbled back, snuggling into his warmth. He smiled and kissed you softly. “I wish I could help you more, love, but I don’t know what it’s like being human.”

“It’s okay.” You smiled back, “we make it work.”

“Yeah, like always.” He said.

“Best friends against the world.” You replied with a grin.

“Of course.” He chuckled, nipping at your ear with his teeth. “Come on, my love, let’s go to sleep.”

~~~

The next day, you decided to talk to Keri while Daniel was out training yet again.

“Keri?”

“Yes, dear?”

“C-can you help me with something?”

She nodded and put her mug down. “Is something wrong?”

“No- well, yeah. I’m scared, and frustrated about this whole ‘becoming the Luna’ thing. Daniel said I should talk to you about it.”

“Ah, Daniel told me about that this morning. Why are you scared?”

“Well, I’m different. Do I really have what it takes? I mean, I barely know anything.”

“If it makes you feel better, I was in a similar situation as you’re in now. If you want, I can teach you everything you need to know.”

“Thank you, Keri.”

“Of course.” She smiled, “is that all that was bothering you?”

You shook your head. “Is there a way to turn into a werewolf?”

“Yes, but,” she sighed, “it’s extremely dangerous. If you want to become a werewolf, you need to be bitten by one on the full moon. Your body will end up rejecting it and you’ll die. Very few people survive torture like that.”

Well fuck, never mind.

“But I’m a human. Don’t they deserve a strong werewolf to take over as Luna?”

“Being a werewolf doesn’t make you a good leader. In fact, I’m human too.” She said with a chuckle, “I’ve seen you interact with the pack. You’ll be a good leader, Y/N.”

“You’re human too?”

“Yes. I grew up around werewolves, but I’m human.”

“Oh, that makes sense.”

“Don’t worry too much about being a werewolf or not, Y/N. That would be like saying you can’t lead because of your ethnicity. It’s about what’s on the inside.”

You nodded again, taking in every word she said. “Thank you.” You smiled.

“Of course.” She pulled you into a loving embrace, which you accepted with open arms. “You’re family.”

~~~

The full moon. A time where all the werewolves in the house went into the woods for a few days to keep the few humans around safe. This was a normal routine you had gotten used to over the few months, but Daniel was always hesitant on leaving.

“I don’t wanna leave you.” He mumbled, hugging your waist tightly. He rested his head on your stomach, a pout on his lips.

“Come on, bro. We need to go before it’s too late.” Jack said, poking Daniel’s arm repeatedly.

He sighed and got up from his knees. “Fine.”

“You’ll be back before you know it.” You told him, placing a small kiss on his lips. “It’s only for a few days.”

He squeezed you tight, kissing you back passionately. “Be careful, okay? Don’t go outside until we get back.” He murmured.

“Okay.” You replied softly, sinking into his embrace. “You be careful too.”

He nodded, smiling. “I’ll see you in a few days, my love.”

You pulled away and watched him join his pack members, all running off into the nearby woods.

Soon after everyone left, Keri shut all the windows and doors, enclosing herself, you, Christina and Anna safely inside. You all sat in a circle, watching the sunset and eating small snacks.

“Wait, Anna you’re human? But your brothers are all werewolves.”

She shrugged and smiled. “I guess I got more human than wolf genes.”

“Ohh, makes sense.” Christina replied, “well welcome to the human club.”

Anna laughed, taking another bite out of the cookie in her hands.

Silence filled the practically empty house, a large contrast to how it had been hours before. The sun sank deeper and deeper below the horizon, the full moon shining in the distance. Time quickly passed and soon enough everyone had gone to bed, leaving you alone in the living room. Like almost every night, you were up late and couldn’t sleep.

I wonder what Daniel is doing right now.

Of course, having to separate for a few days each month was normal, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt every moment that you were apart. You felt a sharp pang in your heart just thinking about it.

Is this how he feels all the time?

A low growling noise interrupted your thoughts. “What was that?” You mumbled to yourself, getting up from where you previously sat on the ground. You tiptoed towards the sound, confused.

You quickly grabbed the closest thing to you, which happened to be your steel water bottle, and made your way down the hall. This feels familiar.

A dark blur flew by, caught in your peripheral vision. It couldn’t have been anyone who was in the house with you, as they were all upstairs asleep. You dashed quickly towards where the blur went, bottle in hand. You saw it run back into the living room, so you quickly followed.

You hid behind a wall, catching your breath for only a moment.

Okay, on three.

One.

Two.

Three.

You jumped out from your hiding spot, swinging your weapon around wildly with your eyes screwed shut.

A low growl sounded from in front of you, making you open your eyes.

“Daniel?”

He was in his wolf form, of course, circling you. His once bright blue eyes turned to a deep blood red, his lip turned up into a snarl.

How did he get in?

You quickly backed away from him, the bottle in your hands pointed at him.

“Daniel…” you started, walking backwards towards the door.

He followed you, eyes trained on yours, stalking you as if you were a piece of prey.

“It’s just me, Y/N. Your girlfriend?” Your voice cracked as you spoke, making you cringe. “Come on, it’s okay bud.”

You bumped into a corner, effectively trapping yourself.

Daniel growled again, lunging towards you. You stifled a gasp as a pair of fangs sunk into your shoulder. You fell to the ground, blacking out from the pain.

~~~

“God, I’m so stupid!”

“It wasn’t your fault, dear.”

“But it kind of was, mom. I should’ve controlled him better, I can usually get him under my-“

“Daniel. Stop beating yourself up. She’s going to be okay. You can’t change what’s already happened.”

You laid neatly on a plush white bed, in a room you quickly recognized as one in the infirmary. Your left arm was wrapped in thick layers of gauze, two pools of blood slightly sweeping through. Your head spun, the bright fluorescent lights slightly blinding you.

“D-Daniel?” You croaked, weakly sitting up.

“You’re awake! Oh, god, lay back down please.” He replied, departing from his mother and kneeling at the bed next to you. He took your face in his warm hands and kissed you. “I’m so sorry.” He mumbled again and again between every kiss.

“It’s okay.” You mumbled back, resting your forehead on his.

He stroked your hair gently, looking at you with his beautiful blue eyes.

“What happened?”

He pouted and took your hands in his, rubbing small circles into your soft skin with his thumb.

“I-I bit you.”

“You...bit me?”

“Yeah. In my wolf form. You do know what’s going to happen to you, right?”

You nodded. “I���ll fight through it, okay? Everything’s going to be fine.”

“Everything’s not fine. I can’t lose you.” He whined. “The survival rate is like, 0.15 percent. It’s even lower if you get bitten by an Alpha and-“

“Daniel.”

“God, you’re going to be in so much pain for the next few days even if you  do survive I’m so sorry-“

“Daniel James Seavey. You can stop rambling.” You interrupted, a smile growing on your face.

“Right. Yeah...everything’s going to be fine. I’m not going to let anything bad happen to you.” He placed another soft kiss on your lips, filling you with warmth and happiness.

“Also, what’s with you and attacking me with water bottles?”

“I have no clue.”

~~~

The next few days were miserable for you. Even though you spent most of the day asleep, you were in constant pain and extreme discomfort. Saying that you’d be in immense pain was an understatement.

“Do you need anything, love?” Daniel asked for the tenth time today, sitting on the bed next to you.

“No, I’m fine.” You winced slightly from the pain in your chest.

“Feel any different today?”

“You mean besides the excruciating pain?”

“Besides that, love.”

“Kind of, but not really. Do you sense anything?”

He nodded. “You still smell human, but you have a different aura now. The boys think you’re going to turn into an omega, and it certainly feels like that.”

“What’s an omega?”

He chuckled and twirled a lock of your hair in his fingers. “An omega is the closest a werewolf can get to a human. They’re the lowest of the pack usually, and can’t change into their wolf form unless they’re in severe danger. They also don’t get affected by the full moon.”

“Oh-“

“Mhm. But the status thing won’t affect you.”

You hugged your pillow close to your stomach, letting out a small growl from pain. “How come?”

“Your growls are so cute.” He muttered, placing a small kiss on your head. “And you’re with me, dummy. You’ll be Luna.”

“Shut up.” You replied with a chuckle, plucking his forehead.

“Ouch! That hurt.” He whined.

“I’m glad you’re finally back.”

“Me too.” You said, smiling. “Being in constant pain for multiple days in a row sucks ass.”

Daniel placed a large hand on your stomach, radiating warmth from his skin. “I wish I could help you more.” He mumbled.

“Just being here is enough, Danny.” You replied, lacing your fingers between his.

He grinned and slid into bed next to you, pulling the white covers over you both.

“I love you.”

“I love you Danny.”

[ladylynse]

Ectober 2018, Day 15: Explain

After what happened, Star wants some explanations, and she’s not going to let Danny get away with brushing her off. (Part II of this fic for Day 13: Help)

By the time Star managed to find her way out of the school’s basement (it would’ve been easier if she’d had a flashlight, but she’d lost her phone in the fall and couldn’t even use that), the ghost fight was over. The door had been busted clean off its hinges and the classroom was empty but for the melting ice.

She wasn’t sure how long she stood there, just staring at the mess, but eventually Lancer found her. “I’m glad you and Mr. Fenton are safe,” he said. “Please, consider your detention over. You’re free to go.”

She didn’t have the heart to tell him she had no idea where Danny was, but maybe he’d already sent Danny home. Maybe she was just…late. That could be why Danny wasn’t here, right? Not because the ghost had taken him somewhere.

She started walking to the Nasty Burger on autopilot, though she was aware enough to keep an eye out for any sign of ghosts—or of Danny. She still had no idea how she’d gone through the floor and ended up in the basement. It had been solid. Solid. And then…it hadn’t been.

But Danny hadn’t fallen with her.

And that didn’t make any sense.

If Phantom had come to save them, why not save both of them? Or even just take the ice monster ghost away so they work on thawing a window or something so they could get out? She had no idea why Phantom would separate them. It just didn’t make sense, not when they were both vulnerable. Why leave Danny behind if he was the target?  Wouldn’t it make more sense to get him away first?

Star reached for her cell phone, remembered it wasn’t in her pocket, and groaned. Lancer had begun cleaning up when she’d left. If her phone was in the classroom, he’d find it and give it to her tomorrow.

If it wasn’t…. Well, if it wasn’t, she’d have to explain how she’d ended up in the basement. And she couldn’t. But it had definitely sounded like Danny could, which is why she needed to find him. He…. He knew what had happened. He must. But how?

The Nasty Burger was busy as usual, but not so busy that she couldn’t tell at a glance that Danny and his friends hadn’t claimed their usual table—or any table, for that matter. Paulina was there with the other A-listers, and Star hunched and turned away, not wanting to be noticed or at least to able to pretend she hadn’t seen them if she was. She hadn’t stopped to fix her hair, and it was no doubt a mess, but that worked in her favour right now. It would make her more invisible to her friends, someone beneath their notice. And that’s…. That’s what she needed right now. She couldn’t talk to them, tell them what had happened, until she came to terms with it herself.

And until she got some explanations.

Star stood off to one side, half-hidden by the dwindling line. Once it disappeared entirely, she went up to Valerie, who was on cash. “I need to borrow your phone,” Star said.

Valerie frowned. “I just got on shift. I can’t—”

“I’ll be like five minutes. Please.”

Valerie glanced behind her, but her boss didn’t materialize, so she passed Star her phone. She didn’t have time for questions now, but Star knew from the look she received that Valerie expected answers later.

“Thanks,” Star murmured, already scrolling through Valerie’s contacts. She knew Valerie had dated Danny, and it hadn’t been a messy breakup, so surely—

There. Star hit dial and held the phone to her ear as she left the restaurant and walked around back. He had to pick up. He had to be safe. He hadn’t lost his phone, and with the fight over—

“Hey, Val. I thought you had a shift today. What’s up?”

“Danny?” Star’s voice cracked. She couldn’t stop it. “I…. Can we talk?”

Silence.

She wasn’t even sure if he was breathing.

“Danny?” she ventured again, just to make sure he really was still on the line.

“I’m…I’m still here.”

“Can we meet up and talk?”

“Now?”

“No, next week,” she snapped, her nerves frayed. “Yes, now. And we’re both still supposed to be in detention, so don’t pretend you have something on.”

“Why are you calling from Valerie’s phone?”

“Because I lost mine and don’t have your stupid number anyway.” She took a few steadying breaths and then said, “Look, I’m sorry. I just…. I don’t know what happened back there, and it’s freaking me out. I just…. Please. I want to talk. Somewhere quiet.”

It was a few long seconds before he sighed and said, “Okay. Football practice will be over by now. Meet me by the bleachers behind the school. I’ll see if I can find your phone.”

He hung up before she could agree, let alone ask him how the heck he expected to find her phone.

She slipped back inside, passing Valerie her phone with a quiet thank you before running off. Another customer behind her ensured that Valerie’s questions would have to wait, and Star was back out the door before Paulina had time to realize that she was out of detention early.

Danny wasn’t anywhere to be seen when she got there, so Star sat down on the bleachers to wait for him. It occurred to her that he could easily just not show up and she wouldn’t be able to track him down if he stayed away from his usual haunts. He’d know better than to answer a call from Valerie’s phone now, and she didn’t know if anyone else would have his number.

“I’m such an idiot,” she muttered, drawing her knees up to her chest so she could hug them. “I’m going to be waiting here half the evening, and tomorrow he’s—”

“Star?”

She straightened up and looked over. Danny’s voice sounded small, almost like he was afraid of her. It was so unlike how he’d been while facing down the ghost that she almost started to laugh. She might have, if he hadn’t been holding her phone out in front of him.

“Where’d you find it?” she demanded, snatching it out of his hands.

“I, uh, found it in the classroom? After the fight?” He was rubbing his neck and staring at his feet.

She frowned. “Then why not just tell me you had it all along?”

He froze. “Uh—”

She rolled her eyes. “Fenton, I’m not stupid, okay? Just tell me how you got it.”

“I went to look for it,” he mumbled.

Sure he did. Inside the school when the doors would be locked from the outside, so people couldn’t get in even if the people inside could get out.

She sighed. That wasn’t important right now. “Look, Danny, thanks for finding my phone, but that’s not really the pressing issue. Just…you can explain, can’t you? What happened?”

He met her gaze now, still looking like the spooked kid Dash routinely shoved into his locker. “There was a ghost fight.”

“I know that. But…. What happened? Who was that guy? How come he knew you? Why was he going after you?”

Danny laughed, but he sounded more nervous than she did. “Well, you heard him. Apparently he’s called Icebreaker.”

He didn’t continue. Star crossed her arms, not willing to let him get away with playing dumb when she knew he knew more than he was telling. “So who’s his brother? Frosty-something? Frostbite? I didn’t even know ghosts could have brothers. Especially ghosts like that.”

He gave her a nervous smile. “You, uh, ever hear about yetis? I’m pretty sure they’re related. And the ghosts of those guys.”

“Yetis aren’t real, Fenton.”

“Yeah? Well, most people would say the same about ghosts.”

He had her there, but she was willing to concede such a small point. “But most people don’t know ghosts as well as we do. And most people here don’t know those guys as well as you apparently do.”

Danny held up both hands. “Hey, that was the first time I’d even heard of Icebreaker, let alone met the guy.”

“Maybe, but you were his target. You told me that. And he didn’t seem to have much trouble tracking you down. Why would some ghost want to kill you if you’ve never met him?”

Danny raised an eyebrow. “My parents are ghost hunters. That’s, like, a natural target on my back.”

She glared at him. “But that’s not the reason here. You guys were talking about secrets. Teaching or training or something.”

Danny pulled a face at her. “Why ask me questions if you already know the answers?”

“Because I don’t know all the answers. And because you’re still trying to lie to me!”

“Technically, the only thing I lied about was finding your phone in the classroom. And that hardly counts.”

She narrowed her eyes and stepped into his personal space. She wasn’t big enough for it to be a good intimidation tactic, but Danny still backed up. “Then forget about the phone,” she growled, taking another step forward, “and forget about this Icebreaker guy. New question, Fenton. How’d I wind up in the school basement?”

Danny hit the chain link fence, but he actually looked relieved. “Phantom,” he said. “He showed up. Phased you down there and me through the wall, actually. I guess so Icebreaker wasn’t sure who to try to follow? Anyway, Phantom dealt with him pretty quickly.”

That…actually made sense. She hadn’t thought about it like that. If Danny really was Icebreaker’s main target, then having her out of sight might put her out of mind. And if he’d decided to get rid of both of them, since he’d seemed pretty set on it earlier, then dividing his targets might make him hesitate long enough for Phantom to get in a good hit.

“Did you see they took out the classroom door? I dunno who hit that, but I bet it hurt.”

Star stared at him, stunned at how easily the lie had left his lips when he’d been so bad at it earlier. But maybe that was it. He’d been comically bad at it earlier. This time, he’d almost had her fooled.

He must’ve read her expression. “What?”

“How did you get back in if Phantom sent you outside?”

“Huh?”

“The doors. They lock.”

“Oh, that?” More nervous laughter. “This was earlier, when people were still going in and out. I was back in looking for your phone before everything was locked up.”

But he couldn’t have been. He shouldn’t have been able to get in either time. “Danny, Lancer would’ve pulled the alarm. Locked the doors so no one could just walk in and accidentally get caught in a ghost fight. Your parents installed it last month, remember? The only people it’ll let through are them, first responders, school staff, and the mayor.”

He opened his mouth, hesitated half a beat too long, and then said, “Right. Tucker hacked that system a while ago. I’m, uh, one of the ones included on the clearance list.”

She’d been so ready to believe it, so ready to believe all of it. It had made so much sense. And now she had no idea what was truth and what was just a clever lie. “Right,” she echoed. He started to relax again, and she asked, “What’s a halfa?”

He paled. “It’s, ah, a nickname. The one Frostbite gave me.”

“Meaning?”

“That it’s a nickname?” He winced at her look. “Okay, okay, sorry. But, seriously, it’s just a nickname. I wouldn’t think about it too much.”

“Nicknames always mean something. Even if it starts with an inside joke and spreads so people who don’t know the origin use it, it always has to start somewhere. People don’t get nicknames for no reason.”

“Yeah, this would be one of those inside joke things. Trust me, it’ll take way too long to try to explain it.”

“I’ve got time. I don’t care if it’s a long story. Hearing how the son of ghost hunters spent enough time with a ghost that the ghost decided to give him a nickname should be an interesting tale.”

Danny sighed. “Star—”

“Please don’t lie to me, Danny.” She shoved a lock of hair behind her ear just to give her hands something to do, but it was hard not to fidget beyond that. “This…. This doesn’t all make sense. There has to be something you’re not telling me. And I think it might have to do with you being important enough to warrant whatever that was.”

“Everyone in this town is important,” Danny said, deflecting things again, “because Phantom will try to save all of us.”

“But Icebreaker wasn’t after Phantom. He was after you!”

“I help Phantom sometimes, okay?” Danny mumbled, not looking at her. “Mom and Dad would flip if they realized, so I keep it a secret. Jazz gets enough flak defending him as it is.” He finally looked her in the eye, adding, “Frostbite and his tribe in the Far Frozen—they’re good ghosts. Like Phantom tries to be. Mom and Dad don’t understand that, but Phantom does, and he took me there so I could train with them to be a better ghost fighter. Hone some skills. I guess Icebreaker found out, hated the idea of a human learning stuff like that, and wanted revenge. But that’s why I could hold him off for as long as I did; this really isn’t the first time I’ve done this sort of thing.”

It made sense.

Star just didn’t know if she could believe him anymore.

She stepped back anyway, giving Danny some room to breathe. He hadn’t told her what halfa meant. He’d outright admitted that he had lied about where he’d found her phone, and why lie about something like that? She wasn’t sure she believed his explanation about having security clearance, either, though she didn’t doubt that Tucker could give it to him. And he’d said Phantom had phased her through the floor, even though she’d never seen him. But what other explanation was there?

Trust me, he’d said. I can help, he’d said.

If he’d just meant that he had more skills when it came to ghost hunting than she knew about, why not say that?

“Okay,” she said. “I’m sorry for freaking out over this. Thanks for meeting me. And finding my phone. I’m glad you’re okay.”

He smiled at her. “No problem. See you around, Star.”

She let him walk off. Cornering him and demanding explanations wouldn’t get her any farther than she’d already gotten. Letting him think she was just going to let this go? That might do it.

She could be patient.

She could wait.

And then she could find out exactly how much of what he’d told her had been the truth.

Continued for Day 19: Mistakes

(see more fics)

[ultrakeystotheheartblog]

The Trees Have Eyes: Chapter 2

New Characters

Chapter 1

A/N: Two main characters return in this instalment! I hope you enjoy :D

Also, to differentiate between the Skinwalker characters (because not all of them have names), I’ve used a few examples of typographical emphasis to highlight their voices and who is speaking:

Skinwalker #1: Normal / Skinwalker #2: Italics / Skinwalker #3: Bolded

Translation:  

Nissandeh = Of course/Undoubtedly

Kutsit narak - Bloody hell

Mera dost - My friend  

Warning: Very slight violence and swearing. That’s it.

*********************************************************************************

Hayden does as she promises once you reach the city. Both her and her sister, Val, help you break away from the group during the chaotic organization of new supplies. And Val is the one to point you in the direction of the nearest bus station, as she hustles you and Noori through the emergency ambulance entrance of the local hospital. You take the very next bus as far as you can up to the city’s border, and then walk the last few miles in the general direction of it, soon finding yourself walking down the side of an empty road. There are short clusters of trees lining either side, and you glance around at them, thankful for the amount of cover they offer from the sunlight, however minimal.

Noori bumps your shoulder, hurrying from your side and up ahead with a look of content. She turns around to speak to you after a moment, walking backwards with an elegance you envy. “So…she was nice. Friendly. Surprise visit from your voice of reason though–do you think it’s a good idea to go to that city?”

You shield your eyes from the mounting sun that appears over the horizon, jacket resting over your arm as you squint at her though the intensifying brightness. “Hayden said her friends could help me finally figure out what I am. Isn’t that a good thing?”

Noori stops, smile drooping at your words. “Danny’s stories don’t bode well.”

“I need this, Noori. I need to know.”

She stares at you for a moment longer, and then smiles more brightly than before, nodding as her gaze lifts from your face and scans along the open road behind you. “Okay. Death city it is.” She finally agrees.

You sigh at the passive aggressiveness in her tone, “Oh, come on–” You catch sight of a lone car, parked at the entrance to a nature path, and lose your train of thought. It’s one where people can picnic or take walks through, the large picket sign to the right of the car–a black and white minimalist map of area–marking the start of the trail, leading down to a shallow valley. Noori grips your elbow and turns you to fully face it, smiling mischievously. It’s not hard to figure out what she’s thinking. You let Noori lead you towards it, but make it known that you’re not too fond of her idea.

“What is with you and breaking the law?”

Noori circles the car, eyes darting over the details of it. “In my day, it was easier to take things into your own hands. Instead of waiting around for something that might happen.”

“I can see your point.”

She looks up to meet your questioning gaze and grins, thumping her hip against the passenger side door. You wince and wait for an alarm that never comes, stepping closer to the car in astonishment. Noori leans forward on it with a wink, her forearms resting against the gleaming gold metal of its roof. 

“Besides, I’m getting too old to worry about things like that anymore.”

“You sound like a grandmother.” You joke. Something strange flickers across her face. It’s an odd knowing smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes, a sad sort of wistfulness that makes your heart ache. But Noori blinks then and the quiet sadness is shattered, her smile widening in a more animated, familiar way. She steps away to bend and peer into the car’s tinted window, running her hands through her hair to turn the electric blue strands–her colour choice of the day–into a icy white that is more reminiscent of an older woman. She looks back up with a smirk. You almost choke on an especially fast intake of air, eyes wide. 

“Wait, how old are you?”

“Old.” She answers, striding back around the car to where you stand at the driver’s side. You cough a few times to regulate your breathing again, narrowing your eyes as you follow her movement.

“Cryptic.”

Noori scoffs as if it was to be expected by now and flashes you another playful smile. She takes a hold of your dangling jacket to pull you closer towards the car. “Nissandeh–now get in. We’ve got places to be, people to save.”

“What? I’m driving?”

“This way you won’t have to worry about me breaking any more laws.” She teases, glancing down the path that leads to the natural park, the trail sheltered in the cool shadows cast by the surrounding canopy of trees. You tense at the dart of her gaze but don’t hear anyone coming. You breathe in relief, rolling your eyes at her.

“Funny.” You retort, trying not to smile. You wrench the car door open easily, blinking in surprise when you find that it isn’t locked. There’s even a key already sitting in the ignition. Too trusting, you think dejectedly. You shake your head at the awful feeling that rises like heat in your chest, trying to push it down as Noori hops to the other side of the car. These poor people were going to in for a very bad afternoon soon.

“Let’s go.”

Hours later on your second day of travel, the sun is just beginning to dip down from its peak height in the sky, signaling the start of a late afternoon. You’d insisted on driving the whole way, wanting to sort out your racing thoughts about what would happen once you reached Shiprock and the Skinwalkers, finding the lull of a car relaxing. 

You’d already passed into Mexico with minimal stops for a faster trip, finding that your werewolf abilities offered you a little relief from tiring as quickly as you would being human. But as Noori chatters away in the passenger seat, you begin to feel the oncoming wave of drowsiness that you’d been battling to fight back. Your eyelids droop, mind growing fuzzy with static as exhaustion and pangs of hunger settle in your gut. Noori is quick to notice your discomfort as you shift in your seat, squinting out hard at the shimmering dark pavement of the road, and casually mentions that you should pull into the next gas station or convince store you see.

“We’re not stopping.” You tell her vehemently, hunching over the wheel as the brightness of the sun pierces brazenly through the tinted front window. You hoped this terrible feeling in your chest would go away once you reached your destination, the tightness and dread since parting ways with Hayden and Val gone at last. You can feel the heat in the tight space of the car, the cloth seat damp beneath your thighs and through your jeans. The sweat is sticky on your skin and stings your eyes as it drips down from your hairline. You cast a fleeting, envious look at how Noori seems so unaffected by the temperature.

“You need a break, (Y/N).” She reminds you.

You swipe across your forehead with the back of your hand. “I’m fine.” You say in frustration.

Noori furrows her eyebrows to concentrate, reaching out to crank up the air conditioning in the car. She kicks up her feet on the dashboard then, crossing them at the ankles as she leans back against the seat, sounding the tiniest bit amused. “You were just complaining about imaginary flamingos blocking out the sun." 

You hesitate, leaning back from the wheel as a curiously out of place thought risies above the sluggish hum in your brain, your mouth moving before you can fully think your question through. "Are there such a thing as were-birds?” She looks over at you, eyebrows shooting up before her eyes flicker over to the passenger window, relief blooming across her expression. She glances up in the rear-view mirror to see that there are still a few cars behind you, and she jabs the turn signal switch up with the open palm of her hand,  indicating that the car was about to turn right.

“Okay, pull over here. I think it’s time we got something to eat.”

You look across the mounds of sand and dirt and open desert, patches of coarse looking green and red vegetation, and the far-away ghosts of rolling hills in the distance, until your gaze lands upon a lone bar up ahead. It’s old and rustic looking, with a patchwork of rusted coloured stone–maybe concrete–covering the outside. It’s all obviously weathered from years of service: a rusting heavy metal door propped open for the entrance, thinly barred rectangular windows lined with a peeling red painted trim, a thicker, fading yellow trim outlining the door. From a distance, the edges of the rectangular building are not exactly straight, but chipped and divoted, making it look odd and slightly slanted. It seems popular though, a range of cars and trucks lined out front.

You begin to shake your head, “Noori–”

She grips your elbow tightly and you secure your hold on the steering wheel in alarm, but she merely draws it towards her, so that the car begins to turn slightly towards the shoulder of the road. One look at her expression and you don’t struggle, sighing in defeat. 

“Pull over, (Y/N).” She says, sounding more serious than you’d seen her in a while. It was solemn and framed with a tender warmth, something you hadn’t felt since she had first calmed you in the community centre locker room. You nod in agreement, slowing the car to turn into the busy, dirt parking lot of the bar. The two other cars honk and zip around you. Noori flips off the second driver, and is already jumping out from the passenger side before the car fully stops, slamming it closed behind her. You slip out of the car next and wobble slightly on your feet, but manage to catch yourself by grasping the car door. By the time you close it and look up, Noori is already striding ahead to the open door of the bar. You follow hurriedly, head shyly hung as you step over the raised threshold. 

The inside of the bar is definitely cooler than outside, with dim lights and running ceiling fans. Although the body heat from the packed mass of people made the large space feel more stifling than it really should be. It was much more modern looking than the outside as well, the dark wooden bar worn and heavily lacquered, so that it shines when sunlight hits it from the open door. There are silver rimmed bar stools and chairs, and clusters of round high tables made of a solidly smooth reddish wood. The floor is scratched up beneath your feet but strong and firm, the ceiling high and lined with structural beams to make the room feel bigger. But the most obvious, newest amenities are the two wide glass cases resting against the wall behind the bar, reaching about 8 feet in length. There are rows of liquor bottles within in them, the red trim on the shelves matching the rusty colour outside.

The amount of people around you makes you feel the slightest bit anxious, and you sidestep a group of visibly drunk men when they move around a table near the bar. Tourists, you realize, as they huddle around a map haphazardly spread out on the table. The place is deafening with laughter and lively chatter, clinking glasses and screeching silverware on plates, and you wince at the volume, rubbing your eyes to keep the throbbing pain in your head away. 

There’s the smell of alcohol and smoke, the sharp spice of sweat, and an aroma of warm food–burgers and salsa, and something sugary and fried–fiery flavours that make your mouth water and stomach growl. You catch the eye of the bartender, a pretty older woman dressed in casual jeans and a simple dark blue shirt, brown hair swept up into a bun on the top of her head and a black apron slung low on her hips. She saunters over to you, tossing a stained towel over her shoulder. She smiles brightly, bracing herself on the bar as she leans forward to be better heard over the noise, though you think you could have heard her just fine.

“I’m Martina. What can I get you, sweetheart?" The woman’s accent is soft and pleasant, and you find yourself relaxing a little as you shake your head, glancing to your side to look for Noori. 

Who had suddenly disappeared on you. 

You spin around but can’t see her through the throng of bodies, and reluctantly turn back to Martina. She’s watching you now with a curious expression. 

"Lost somebody?” She questions casually, leaning back to cock her hip out and rest her hand there. You gulp down the anxiety of being alone in an unfamiliar place and straighten, nodding slowly.

“I’ll find her, it’s alright.” You respond, smiling kindly at her. Martina hums and regards you carefully, tapping her fingers on the surface of the bar. She nods after a moment and stoops to grab a tall beer glass from behind the bar. You nervously wave your hand at her to stop.

“I can’t drink, I’m going to be driving in a bit.”

Martina doesn’t respond, and instead turns to the back of the bar, filing the glass with tap water from the deep seated, brass sink there. She slides a white plastic coaster from the front pocket of her apron in front of you, and then plops the full glass down. She smirks at the surprised look on your face, rubbing her hands across the fabric of her apron before shrugging.

“You looked like you could used something refreshing. On the house.”

You curl your hand around the bass of the glass and flash her a grateful look. “Thank you." 

Martina smiles again, backing up from you with a sweet sounding chuckle. "Let me know if you need anything else.” She says, finally turning away to speak to another customer. 

You sip on the glass of water eagerly, scanning the room around you to keep an eye out for Noori. And that’s when you see him. He’s comfortably slouched back against a chair on the other side of the room, nonchalantly turned so that his back and seat are facing the empty table behind him. You think that this way he can more easily survey the people around him. 

His gaze jumps from person to person, quick, darting eye movements as he stretches out his legs, popping a chip into mouth from the ceramic bowl in his lap. He’s very tall and very handsome you conclude, a young man with a lean, muscular build and sharp features, including a nicely chiseled jaw line. His dark blonde hair is slightly curly at the front, more shaven in the back. He’s wearing stylish dark jeans and a white v-neck, a gray bomber jacket with shiny golden zippers on the arms as well, thick black boots on his feet. But what astonishes you most are his large, deep-set blue eyes. He finally turns his gaze to you and you feel yourself freeze, glass halfway up to your mouth.

They’re bright and beautifully disorientating, piercing in the dim. His gaze is searching and deep as it lingers quite a long time on your face, and you stare back, skin itching under the intensity. You feel your face burn when his eyes slightly narrow and he continues to study you, and you wonder if he feels the strange pull like you do, as if you both know that there’s something off about each other. Something different than the other people around you–that makes you want to drift closer. A group of men pass in front of him, cutting off the odd staring contest. You turn away fully from him when the captivating connection is broken, draining the rest of your water in one gulp. You can still feel his eyes on you though, trained on your back, and you shiver, pressing your hands to your heated cheeks.

“Who’s he?”

Noori’s voice startles you, and you knock the empty beer glass with your elbow as you turn to face her, catching it from smashing against the floor. You think that your reflexes might have been a little too fast there, and you search out the familiar feeling of burning eyes. Martina is looking at you from the other end of the bar, her expression surprised. You smile weakly, lifting the glass in a little greeting before placing it gingerly on the bar, and clear your throat as you turn back to Noori. You blink at her, trying to remember what she had said last.

“What? I don’t know.”

Noori crosses her arms, resting her hip against the side of the bar, and lifts her eyebrows teasingly. “There was some solid eye contact.”

You pointedly look away from her, wishing that the heat in your face would just leave, and yawn as you eye the food Martina is now passing to a customer over the top of the bar–cheesy layered nachos. “You promised me food, didn’t you?” You say suddenly, the pangs in your gut returning as you think more about it.

“Deflection.” She counters, sighing as she turns to slip through the mass of bodies. “But you’re right, I did. Over here.”

You immediately follow, not wanting to lose her again, but find yourself glancing back a final time, unconsciously searching for the boy from earlier. His seat is empty, the half eaten bowl of chips left on the table, and you frown, feeling strangely disappointed that he’s gone. Noori leads you to the far upper corner of the room, around the side of the wooden bar where there’s a more secluded table, and gestures proudly to the nearly full basket of fries sitting there. You slide into one of the seats after Noori does, and pluck one from the pile. The potato is cold between your fingers, but it still smells salty and delicious. Your mouth waters, but you compose yourself and raise an eyebrow at her, eyes flicking down to indicate the basket.

“Where did you get this from? We don’t have any money.”

She gestures with a small tilt of her head to another, much smaller–but equally loud–group of tourists a few tables away. There’s an assortment of  empty and half eaten plates stacked around the edges of the table. She laughs quietly, “They’re too drunk to realize it’s even gone. I doubt they’re going to miss it.”

You think about it for a moment and then shrug, popping the fry into your mouth. It’s good and goes down easy, and soon you’ve devoured more than half of the basket, the twinge in your gut dissipating. You glance up at Noori to see she’s watching you fondly, arm draped over the back of the chair as she slumps back against it. You swallow another few fries before a flash of realization makes you pause.

“Aren’t you getting something?” You ask in concern. Noori waves away your attempt to offer her what’s left, sliding the basket back to you with a small smile.

“You need it more. I’m fine for now.” She says, chuckling at the look of frustration that crosses your expression. “I’ll get something on the way back.”

“Noori–”

She sighs, looking surprisingly drained, and you clamp your mouth shut at the sudden change. You stare at her curiously, realizing that she must be more affected than you thought. She shakes her head, tired smile wrenching at your heart.

“I promise.” She assures you, head dropping into the palm of her hand. “Just rest.”

*********************************************************************************

A few hours later is all it takes to reach your destination.

You both hike through the warm sand of the desert, car left far back by the road, and blink away drifting dust from your eyes, as she leads you off into seemingly vacant terrain. The heat of the sun is almost worse out in the open, and you grumble as it shines down on you without mercy. Noori kicks up a burst of sand as she picks up speed, staring intently into the distance, and you begin to worry if she truly knows where she’s going. You huff, staggering to follow her pace while sucking in quick breaths to keep from panting too loudly. You stride up beside her when she eventually looks back and slows down for you, a small smile twitching at the corners of her mouth.

“Are we in the right place?” You ask, scanning the landscape curiously.

“Yes.”

“I don’t see anyone.”

Noori shoots you an amused look, “What were you expecting?” You shrug, shielding your eyes as you train a more focused gaze out over the horizon.

“A house? A camp? Something more than empty desert.”

And then you see it, as the two of you clamber up a rare, steep hill of sand, fingers burning against the sand when you hunch over for more leverage. It’s an isolated rock formation that rises abruptly above the high-desert plain. Noori had told you about it on the way from the bar–that it lies just southwest of the town of Shiprock, which is actually named for this particular sacred peak, the formation having a large historical and significant role in Navajo religion, myth, and tradition.

They had to be here. 

You can’t help but gawk in awe the closer you get to it. It’s tall and hauntingly powerful, jaggedly cut out against the clear blue of the sky and orange tinted landscape. Noori excitedly waves you over, to follow her towards an outcropping of rock around the side of the base. She smirks as you bound up to her, body buzzing with energy.

“Have a little faith, (Y/N).” She playfully tells you.

The excitement is short lived. The sound of wet gurgling reaches your ears from too close, slow and deep like churning molasses, and your body tenses at the familiar sound from the hospital. The sound tapers off into a sick, high-pitched squelch that racks your body with the cold sensation of dread, the feeling too intense under the heat of the desert. You turn around in a tight circle, chest constricting in fear, but don’t see any of the lumbering smoke creatures in the brightness of the sun.

“Noori…” You say quietly, and she reaches out to grip your bicep, eyes narrowed as she scans your surroundings.

“I heard it too.” She mutters.

That surprises you, considering no one else seemed to acknowledge the horrible nightmare shadows the last time you’d seen them. Your head snaps around to look at her, the sound momentarily forgotten. 

“How–” You start. You’re cut off as something large and gray unfolds itself too quickly to comprehend–from the shadows at the base of the rock formation–and slams into your friend from the side. She flies more than 10 feet away, landing in the sand with cry. The smoke creature is significantly smaller than the ones before, but more wild, clawed hands lifting and glinting in the sun as it staggers–a vision of suspended rolling smoke–in misshapen circles around Noori. She scrambles onto her knees and stares up at it in terror, the slits of its eyes opening. The white glow of them is sharp like a lens flare in the light.

“Noori!” You shout in alarm. You dash towards her, sliding to a stop and stumbling back when the creature whirls around to face you. It’s terrible mouth falls open in a gaping yawn, the darkness inside disorientating and much too deep, a feeling of panic rushing towards you like a raging stream. You fall against the sand and drag yourself backwards as it follows you, its burning eyes trained intensely on your face. Noori is searching in a panic through the sand around her, burying her arms up to her elbows to find anything that could help. You’re unsure if a rock will do much damage though, and you scramble away further until your back knocks against the rocky base of the outcropping. You can feel the heat and rough texture of the formation through your shirt, and you spread out your arms to brace yourself, palms pressing flat against the  rock as you shrink back from the creature.

It pauses before you, puppet-like as it hovers in the air, watching your trembling form as though its waiting for something. Or trying to figure something out. Its head cocks so far to the side that it looks as if the appendage has broken off from its body. It’s gurgling again, softly, and you flinch at the sound, tensing for the worst. But it doesn’t move to attack you. Just sits there, waiting, and you feel the odd supernatural heat return in your eyes, the purple glow more prominent in the shadows of the rocky outcropping. 

It reacts more violently then, recoiling from you for a moment with a throaty snarl that shocks you, and then it surges forward like a cornered animal, sharp claws piercing the stone above your head. It drags them, scraping down the rock, the sound of it echoing awfully in your ears. It’s so close now that you feel as though you’re drowning in the inky smoke, and as its claws touch the crook of your neck everything starts to burn. Your back arches off the rock and you don’t realize that you’re screaming–thrown into the push and pull of an undertow made entirely of a fire, a heat that locks into every muscle of your body–until your throat begins to ache. It’s in your head, a confusing icy pang thrashing through the sudden deafening static, and a sloshing, unintelligible voice, like someone is choking on water, begins to cry out. There’s a weightless lurch like a spasm in your limbs, as though something was being ripped from inside you–and it hurts, hurts, hurts– 

“Hey! I think you’re seeing double.”

Everything stops in an instant these words stab through the haze, and something snaps back into place, the force almost giving you whiplash. You’re left gasping in large gulps of air, dropping to your hands and knees, body heavy. You taste blood, spitting out the copper taste to see a splatter of dark red against the orange sand. You manage to lift your head, blinking away your blurry vision to see that the creature is now listlessly floating, seeming confused as it turns in sharp movements to look between both you and…Noori? It gurgles in what sounds like frustration and you squint out at the other figure kneeling in the sand, thoughts muddled from the shock.

It’s an image of you–an identical you, breathing heavy with a hand held up towards the creature. You make eye contact and something flickers in the figure’s eyes. It’s a familiar spark of comfort that tells you everything will be okay, and you realize with a start that this is the first time you’d seen Noori truly and completely shape shift into another being. It was eerily accurate. Before either of you can move there’s a metal glint in the upper corner of your eye, and you slowly look up to the top of the rocky outcropping jutting out above you. There’s a figure of a girl illuminated by the sun, katana sword drawn out at her side.

What the fu–

She leaps down in front of you, landing on one knee in the sand and faces out to the open desert. She has a bob of short dark hair and is dressed in ripped tights and a green plaid skirt, as well as a black tank top, and folded down black combat boots. The creature rears back at her entrance, and the girl looks to you over her shoulder, eyes glowing a brilliant orange.

“Where is it?” She asks, and you immediately point to the anxiously swaying creature just in front of her, the mass of smoke backing up with another feral snarl from its open mouth.

The girl lifts the katana with both hands on the hilt, the blade poised horizontally just above her head as she drops back into a ready stance. A trail of fire licks along the metal, a shimmering fluorescent wave that circles in a spiral around it, the sharply sweet smell of electricity rising in the air. The girl lunges forward towards the creature then, in a movement that’s supernaturally fast, swiping the fiery katana through its body. The creature doesn’t make a sound, the ghostly glow in its eyes flickering out, mouth stuck in a silent scream. The mass of smoke halves into two separate sections, the top sliding from the bottom, and then the smoke unravels, wisps curling up into the air before burning up when the fire from the katana sparks against the smoke. It consumes it in a upwards swell of flames, leaving nothing in its wake. Noori–the other you–smiles in relief when the smoke completely clears from the air, blinking up into the sun. The eyes flash pink as your image changes quickly, vibrating and shifting, features sinking back like clay until her familiar figure emerges as if breaking free from a shell. Her white hair gleams under the sun as she breathes deeply. You stare at her in disbelief when she crawls across the sand towards you, grumbling under her breath about needing a vacation.

“Kutsit narak.” Noori mutters upon reaching you, hands going to either side of your face as she turns your head from side to side, gaze searching for any physical injuries. When she finds none, she leans back on her knees with a look of content, hands dropping to her thighs.

“Holy shit.” You say in agreement. You look to the girl standing a few feet away and see that she’s now holding the katana in front of her body, blade just ordinary metal again and raised to the sky. Her eyes are closed as she speaks softly to herself in a language you don’t understand, until they flutter open again after a moment, the orange glow gone.

She steps towards you, gaze concerned. “Are you alright?”

Noori stands, pulling you to your feet as you nod and push off the rocky wall behind you. “I…yeah. Thank you for that–that was really…badass.” You tell her, brushing sand from your arms with a small, friendly smile. Noori slouches back in a casual stance, putting all of her weight on her back leg, hand slipping into the back pocket of her pants.

“So is that sword.” She adds. The girl grins at you, looking shy as she slips her katana back into a black sheath, one that hangs from the leather strap looped around her shoulder and back.

“No problem. I’m just relieved I got here in time.”

“How did you know?”

“My teachers sent me.” She answers, casting a sweeping look at the open desert behind you and Noori. “They felt something….dangerous and dark, and they had me come here to fight it.” Her eyes lock onto you, “Whatever that was.”

You step towards her, “The Skinwalkers?”

“Told you.” Noori quips excitedly, reaching out to lightly poke your shoulder. The girl blinks at you in surprise, fingers curling around the part of the katana’s strap that cuts down diagonally across her chest.

“Uh, yeah. What–”

“They’re why I’m here, I wanted–needed to talk to them.” You explain quickly.

A warm gust of wind picks up around the three of you, swirling dust around in the air until it’s too thick to see, and you tug your shirt up over your nose and mouth. Both Noori and the girl back up to stand closer to you, elbows bumping against each other at the proximity. The girl stares out into whirlwind of sand as if this is an everyday occurrence, grip on the leather strap tightening until her knuckles are white. She tilts her head towards you, voice low, eyes never leaving the growing dark shapes appearing through the undulating dust.

“Well, here’s your chance.” She says simply.

The dust and sand begins to settle around you, vision clearing so that you can better see who is walking towards you. The shapes become three woman as the last of the dust falls, the small group slowing to a stop a few feet from you. Their postures are tall, regal and grand and all knowing, a swelling vibration of static energy radiating against the air until your breath catches in awe. The first woman, standing just in front of the others, is wearing the pelt of an animal over her head, her spear topped with a jagged piece of bone like a crescent moon. She has striking black paint around her eyes, simple vertical lines down one half of her face. She tips her chin up as you look at her, poised stance seeming every bit the leader you begin to suspect.

The second woman is wearing a belted long-sleeved outfit and holds a more simple spear, white paint layered across the entirety of her face, tinted black circles around the eyes. Tresses of beautiful dark hair hang around her face. The third woman is carrying a more simple spear as well, her hair in tight intricate braids that sit over her shoulders. She has similar black paint around her eyes like the other two, but she also has a beautiful deep red paint starting across her browline, creating two pointed peaks that stretch down past her cheeks and stop just at the corners of her mouth. They’re all covered in sand from the surrounding desert, dark eyes piercing in the brightness of the sun as they stare down at you.

You’d never felt so small.

“Do you feel that?” One asks in a hush.

“There’s more.”

The woman in front of them–definitely the leader, you conclude–looks up into the sky, expression fierce. “I feared this day would come.”

The girl beside you shifts anxiously and steps in front of you, sweeping a piece of hair behind her ear. “What was it?” She questions, glancing to the spot where she’d dispelled the creature only moments before.

“It has many names, Kira. But there is only one that will matter to you.”

“Which is?’ Noori chirps from your other side. The leader’s attention is pulled from the sky and she transfers the decorated spear to her other hand, rolling her shoulders back slowly.

"They’re soul-eating beings.” She clarifies, gaze straying to you as though she’d almost forgotten you were there. “They feed on the spirits of the dead.”

Noori sighs, “I’m not liking the sound of this.”

The girl with the katana–Kira–shakes her head in disbelief. “Is there anything we can do?” She asks with a slight twinge of desperation. The leader lifts her spear and brings it down solidly against the sand, the muffled thunk punctuating the intensity of her words.

“We’ve looked into the other world and saw darkness.” She begins.

“The other world?”

Kira is quick to enlighten you, turning to speak softly.  "The spirit world.“

There’s a drop in your stomach–a lurch like your falling from somewhere high–and you gulp, feeling the cold, prickling fear from earlier return. The Skinwalkers are watching you closely, and Noori presses against your arm as if silently telling you that she understands what you’re feeling. You clench your hands into tight fists at your sides to hide the shaking in your fingers.

"Darkness…like those creatures?” You can’t help but inquire, another fearful lurch of your stomach at the grave look on their faces. You have an odd feeling that you’re about to regret wanting to learn the truth. The leader of the Skinwalkers nods.

“Yes.”

“And this darkness is speading…growing, and it will echo across the world if it’s not dealt with.”

“You must stop it, (Y/N).”

You startle at the casual use of your name, sharing a brief  look with Noori beside you. She doesn’t seem as surprised as you though, and you furrow your eyebrows, realizing that although you’d become a part of the supernatural world, you still had a lot to learn. “How do you know my name?”

The leader slowly drops the tip of her spear to gesture at you, “The spirits talk about you.” She says, bowing her head slightly as though she was offering you some semblance of respect. “You are the shepard.”

“Do you know what I am?”

“Something old.” The second woman counters in response.

“Something powerful.”

“Powerful enough to stop all this.”

The third woman cuts the other two a sharp, displeased look, mouth set in a firm line. Her voice is laced with doubt, “Powerful enough to try.”

“Kira, you must go.” The leader advises firmly, flashing her fellow Skinwalker a warning look, her tone leaving no room for discussion. “Help where you can.”

“(Y/N) will have a large part in what’s to come.”

Kira frowns, “What can I do?”

“Your sword is made from our power, a weapon forged with the energy of the spirit world. An electricfying spiritual force that only a Kitsune can weild.”

“It can dispel the shadows." 

Kira takes a step back, body bumping against you, and you hear the mounting panic in her words. "I don’t know if I’m ready.” She admits, spreading her palms to stare down at her hands. There’s a spark of apprehension in her expression, a farway look to her eyes. It’s one shadowed with fear like someone remembering a horrible dream, and as her hands begin to tremble, you understand. It’s all about control, and she’s still learning, like you. The leader of the Skinwalkers smiles, a twitch of her lips that makes you wonder if it’s merely a courtesy or meant to be more encouraging.

“You’ve done well, Kira.”

“You’ve learned fast and gotten stronger. More aware of your abilities and the balance that is needed.”

“But lessons can only take you so far.”

“It’s time to take what you’ve learned and apply it.”

Kira swallows hard, gaze snapping up sharply to stare at the three women. She clenches and unclenches her fists a few times and then lets her hands drop back to her side, shaking herself free of her memories. Her eyes widen as she mulls over their words.

“What are you saying? Is this another test?”

The leader’s fingers flex on the wooden length of her spear, but she doesn’t visibly react any further at the question. She simply regards Kira–unblinking and intense, and eerily meaningful. You wonder if the test began the moment Kira appeared to rescue both you and Noori from the creature. The leader looks to the other two women standing behind her as she speaks. “Do this–stop the darkness–without your inner fox taking control. Show us your strength in balancing two sides. And if you succeed…you may leave us.”

“Just like that? I’ll be free to go home to my family? My friends?”

“Just like that.”

Kira breathes deeply to steady her resolve and straightens, head held high. A flicker of determination appears in her expression as she pulls at the strap of her katana again, as if reassuring herself that it’s there. “I’ll do it.”

“Stay true, Kira. Keep the balance.” The leader warns, dipping the top of her spear again to train on a spot just above Kira’s head. She slowly lowers it, cutting an imaginary line down the centre of Kira’s body. “No matter what.”

“I will.”

“Hold on, wait a minute!” You blurt out, mind dizzying more strongly with each passing moment. They couldn’t possibly be thinking that you–no. Your grimace at the thought, eyes nervously darting from Kira to the Skinwalkers as you will the conversation to slow down. They all turn to you, and you duck your head in embarrassment, voice small but surging with alarm. “What do you expect me to do? I don’t know anything about dealing with terrifying darkness monsters.”

“To have your answers, you must find your new path in this world." 

You close your eyes to try and soothe your racing heartbeat, turning to look at Kira then, tone pitching in desperation. "Is everything an extremely vague test to them?” Noori stifles a bout of laughter, and you firmly elbow her side to keep her quiet.

“Not everything.” She says immediately, pausing as though she was giving her answer more thought. She sheepishly smiles after a beat of silence. “Most things, actually.” She amends.

The second woman speaks up, drawing your attention back to them with a small gesture of her spear–a quick up and down motion that reminds you of a judge calling order to their court. “But this is not something you have to walk alone.”

The leader fixes you with her heavy, knowing gaze. “You have allies where you least expect them.” She reveals, sounding oddly amused when her eyes flick over to Noori. “Friends that will surprise you.”

Surprise you?

“It’s a pleasure to see you three again.” Noori says kindly, inclining her head in a simple hello.

“You’ve been busy.”

“I’ve had my moments.”

Kira seems puzzled by the exchange and looks as though she wants to say something, but she stays quiet as the leader turns back to you, beckoning you forward by extending an open hand. You hesitate, but with a gentle push from Noori you find yourself moving towards her slowly. “You’re young, (Y/N).” The Skinwalker reminds you. “With untapped potential. You must be strong. You must be brave. And above all you must be open.”

“You are a bridge between two plains of existance. Both physical and spiritual. You walk with us between both.”

“Don’t be afraid of this connection. Learn to use it to your advantage.” The leader takes your hand once you’re standing in front of her, skin warm and sweat slicked, and covered in sticky sand. Her gaze shifts pointedly to Kira as though making sure she is still listening. “To protect those….who cannot protect themselves.”

You glance back curiously over your shoulder and see a strangle flash of emotion in Kira’s expression, one that tells you these words mean something to her. It’s quick and sad, and you wonder for a moment if you should ask her if she’s alright. Kira makes the decision for you though, dropping her head to stare at the ground and avoid your eyes. You frown, turning back to address the double meaning in the leader’s tone.

“The spirits that are disapearing–”

“They may not be completely lost.”

“Yet.” The third woman adds icily.

“So, there’s still time.” Kira concludes, lifting her head to study her teachers’ expressions.

You draw your hand away, frustration curbing your earlier alarm. “How am I–look, this all seems so simple when you say it, but…I don’t know how to do what you want.”

“You can. By looking to others. And trusting the core balance within you as well.”

“Balance?”

“Your fear and your compassion–the thing that gives you your courage.” Noori offers suddenly, sounding as though she’s just had a realization. The Skinwalkers nod, shifting to stand in a straight line before continuing.

“The wolf and the human.”

“The spirit and the body.”

“Can you do this?”

“I don’t think I really have a choice.” You say in defeat, the laugh that escapes you exhausted and hollow.

“You do.”

“But if you choose to let the darkness fall–spread to the corners of the Earth–more things will be lost than you can ever imagine.”

“No pressure, right?” Noori quips, stepping up beside you with a smile. She lifts her arm and rests it against your shoulder, sighing as she leans onto you. She winks when you look to her,  "I’m here to the end, mera dost.“

Kira returns to your side as well, nodding at you with an emotion you can’t quite place–determined you decide quickly, but edged with a jumble of fear and hope that reflects everything you’ve felt youself. Since clawing your way out from the damp dirt all those months ago. Her smile is shy and small, but beautifully bright despite the turmoil you’re sure she feels about your chances–a promise for adventure no matter the outcome.

"I’m with you.”

“Okay then…it looks like this is happening.” You mutter, straightening to stand taller–more heroic, hoping that the puff in your chest makes you seem as though you’re more confident than you feel. Fake it until you make it, right?

….

You think you may be in some serious trouble.

“What’s the first step?” You ask the three women, feeling satisfied when your voice doesn’t shake.

“That is up to you.” The leader tells you, lifting her spear high into the air. “Good luck.”

When she brings it down again, a puff of sand bursting from the impact, another gust of wind swirls around you, as soft as breathing. It quickly strengthens into a humid gale as the other two Skinwalkers knock their spears against the sand as well, one after another. A haze of dust is drawn up from the ground, twisting into circling clouds that shut out the sunlight and curl around the three women in ribbons of sand.You can’t see anything in front of you, your breath coming in quick, coughing gasps as you struggle to breath against the pressure on your chest. And then it all comes to a stop, much like when they first appeared from the dust. You suck in a much needed gulp of clean air as the sand falls like rain around you, the ocean blue sky finally emerging in your vision. Noori waves away the last of the dust hanging in the air around her head, blinking at the sudden burst of sunlight.

“I forgot how unhelpful they can be at times.” She sighs. You shake your head at her in amusement, brushing away grainy sand from your shirt and jeans.

“Kira?” You question, watching her shake dust from her hair with a look of concentration. “Do you know where we can go? For help?

She looks up at you and smiles, gaze trailing behind you to stare out into the far most plains of the open desert. "I know a place.”

*********************************************************************************

“Beacon Hills? That’s where you want to go?”

Kira nods as she crosses from the sand of the desert to the paved road, breathing out a little satisfied sigh at the echoing of her boots against the surface. She shields her eyes from the sun when she looks up and down the road, easily spotting your stolen car. It’s parked up the empty road a few feet away, and she heads towards it with a hop in her step. Someone seems excited, you think in amusement, trailing behind her more leisurely. And it’s contagious. Noori is grinning when you turn to see her reaction.

“I have friends there.” Kira says and then hesitates, slowing her pace until you and Noori catch up. “At least I think so–I don’t really know how long it’s been.” She glances at you sideways, “Why? Have you heard of it?”

You share a knowing look with Noori as Kira reaches the car, running her fingers over the metal surface of the trunk. You raise your eyebrows, “The name seems to be popping up a lot recently.”

“And we’re just crazy enough to go.” Noori adds. You roll your eyes at her sulky tone.

Kira turns to you as you pass behind her, tugging open the driver’s side door, the burning metal making you wince as your palm closes around the handle. Kira seems surprised that it was left unlocked for so long under the sun, but doesn’t comment, ducking her head instead to peer into the humid car. She had insisted on driving back, partly for the joy of it again, but mostly because she knew the quickest way to Beacon out of the three of you. You lean against the open door, arm slung over the top of it, and slip the set of keys from your front pocket, dangling the metal ring from your index finger.

“So.” You begin casually, as Kira smiles and gently takes the car keys from you. “One of the Skinwalkers called you a…Kit…Kitsune?”

“They did. ” She agrees, carefully sliding into the front seat so she doesn’t catch the hilt of her katana on the roof. Her hands lift to touch the warm rubber of the wheel. “It means that when I was born…an ancient fox spirit attached itself to me, became a part of me. I can handle lightening and high levels of electricity. It’s like I absorb it, and then I can re-purpose it.” She explains, tossing the ring of keys over in her grip and then fitting one that looked about the right size into the ignition. It slides in easily and she pauses, looking up at you. “We can also live an insanely long time, or so I’ve been told.”

“Like past a century?”

“My mom is about 900.”

Noori whistles, leaning back fully against the rear door on the same side of the car, legs crossed at the ankles. “Well, that was unexpected.”

“Wow.” You breathe in shock, staring at Kira in amazement. “That is way more badass than I originally thought." 

She laughs, looking embarrassed, and you shake your head incredulously, trying to wrap your head around the new information. The supernatural world is more surprising than you’d ever imagined. More upside down and curiously twisted. More deadly. Like a rabbit hole down into the reaches of a Wonderland’s darkest absurdities, and you were still free falling from thousands of feet. This was all definitely going to take some getting used to.

You reach over to open the back door beneath Noori when she settles more heavily against it, as if getting comfortable, wanting to get on the road as soon as possible. It throws her off balance and she stumbles a bit to the side, rolling her eyes at you before jumping into the back seat. She scoots to sit in the middle and slumps back to rest her head, eyes fluttering closed. You hear the metallic click as Kira turns the key in the ignition, but there’s no rumble of an engine or juddering of the car’s metal frame to signal life. Kira turns it again a few times, getting a quiet, short gasp from the machine after the third, before there’s total silence again. Noori peeks up at you with one eye. You groan, shutting the rear door to step back to the driver’s seat, dipping your head down to look back into the car. Kira leans forward to tap the gauge on the dashboard, the little red needle quivering around the bold ‘E’ at one end. Kira smiles up at you weakly–forlornly–leaning farther to drape her arms over the wheel with a soft sigh. You swear under your breath.

Of all the stupid things–

"I think we forgot to gas up around the bar.” Noori reminds you needlessly from the back, merely shrugging when you turn to stare at her with the most incredulous, miserable look you can muster. And then you finally hear it through your racing thoughts–an unfamiliar, thudding rhythm. It’s faint at first but growing, a nervous stutter in the beat drawing your undivided attention before the smell. Like the ocean, salty and warm, and the air fills with the smoky twinge of burning wood. Kira sees your body tense, your head tilting to more easily catch any nearby sounds, and she straightens in her seat with alarm.

“What is it?”

“I hear something.”

Noori sits up immediately, both eyes open wide. “Let’s hope it’s friendly this time.”

“A heartbeat.” You tell them after a moment. Kira reaches behind her to grip the hilt of her katana, and you slip out the old, blue ice scraper tucked down into fissure between the driver’s seat and the door, weighing the heavy plastic in your hand. Kira curiously eyes it as she turns in her seat to better face the open door, and you shrug helplessly, holding the makeshift weapon by your hip. Noori stifles a laugh at your choice despite the situation. You ignore her with a roll of your eyes, bracing yourself to shift back from the door without turning around–so that Kira can see out behind you. The muscles in your legs barely twitch before you feel a towering figure close in behind you. And you react instinctively, quickly swinging around as you lift the ice scraper and blindly swipe at the figure.

He grips your wrist just as fast, halting your blow and tightening his hold until you’re forced to drop your weapon. In a panic you jerk back, throwing your weight forward to knock him of balance. It works and you both topple over, his eyes wide and mouth parted in surprise. You land on top of him, wincing at the shooting pain in your knee caps, one leg hooked over his hip, and he groans loudly from the impact of his back against the pavement. You hear Kira scramble from the front seat, the hilt of her katana thumping against the roof. But as you stare down at the boy beneath you, you can’t seem to find the energy to move, all the breath punched from your lungs. He stares back just as astonished, and you realize that up close you can see an infinite sadness in those beautiful blue eyes–the exact ones from the bar–the hardened, raw awareness of a damned world reflected in them. But there was a fervour in them too, and it makes your heart flutter beyond all reason.

You swallow hard, allowing the confusion you feel to seep into your tone. “It’s you.”

The boy is broken from his revere and drags his gaze away to glance briefly around him, as if suddenly remembering where he is. He flinches when you accidently shift, gritting his teeth and trying to smirk through another groan of pain. It’s a weak smile and he clears his throat to speak, sounding as though he’s struggling to control his breathing, voice pitched as he squints up at you.

“As much as I love the view, your knee in is places that are…very painful.”

“Well, isn’t this romantic.” Noori teases from the other side of the car, propped up on the threshold of the open back door and curled over the roof, her chin resting on the back of her interlinked hands. It takes you a few seconds to realize what the boy means, and you blink at him, looking down to where your knee had landed in the fall.

“Oh. Oh. Oh my god, I’m sorry.” You say in a rush, instantly rolling off of him. You rise to your knees as he breathes out in relief and sits up, but you’re quick to remember that you should be very annoyed with him right about now. You push back on his chest to keep him seated as he goes to stand, narrowing your eyes at him. “Wait, no I’m not. Why the hell were you following us?”

“Well–”

“Isaac?”

[philthevaliant-stuff]

Giant!Danny Phantom x Reader Short Story: “Passing Storm, Lingering First Encounter”

Here’s that story I’ve promised you. I know that some of you might be interested in this, though I’ve been surprised before and no doubt I’ll be surprised again. Nevertheless, enjoy yourself!

The first few drops of rain began to fall as you hurried to the abandoned hangar on the outskirts of town. Reaching the awning of the small door to the office built-in to the massive building, you panted and brushed the sweat off your forehead as you studied the text on your phone again:

If u know about us as much as our friend thinks u do, plz come 2 the hangar. Our friend saw u last night. He knows u can help him.

Placing your hand on the doorknob, you recalled what had happened to you last night...

That was when the solar eclipse took place. You had chosen a good spot to see it, and you were wearing special eclipse shades. As you felt the eclipse creep in behind you and the unnatural darkness enveloping everything around you, you could swear you saw the flickering of green light several miles away and heard two light booming noises, one after another, like a giant taking two steps forward.

If only you weren't safety-conscious, you would have seen a portal open up in the heart of the eclipse. You would have seen three figures emerge from that portal. You would recognize one to be Sam Manson, her eyes closed to prevent the light from hurting her eyes; the other to be Tucker Foley, his PDA in one hand, his eyes closed too. Both of them were wearing futuristic space gear.

But through that flicker of green light, you at least saw the outline of ... him. The one you've had a crush on the longest. Danny Phantom. But there was something different about him. Despite being completely invisible to everyone around him, he was at least 50ft tall. Technically. You didn't really know his real height for sure to make the necessary calculations.

And little did you know, until you got the text half an hour ago, that Danny sensed your spirit among all those taking part in the eclipse, and while you were tracing the shape of the solar eclipse on a piece of paper, he gained a sense of the world you lived in, of how he and his friends were fictional characters here; how pleasantly modern and up-to-date everything was here; how dark and foreboding the future of this world is...

"(y/n)!"

Sam's voice jolted you to your senses and back to the present day. The drops of rain from before were now joined by several more as a light drizzle now fell from the heavens.

"You're gonna get soaked if you stand around outside like this! Come inside, quickly, before anyone else sees us. And don't tell the supermarket about the theft!"

'Don't tell the supermarket about the theft'!? As if talking to a real life cartoon character was enough to pose a lot of questions...! But you followed Sam through the door nevertheless, and into the office, pleasantly lit since it was out of town so no one could notice. You saw Tucker working on both his PDA and a laptop, a noticeboard on the wall in front of you covered with notes and drawings of planets. To the left of you was a pair of double-doors leading into the hangar itself.

"Hey, Tucker! (y/n) is here." instructed Sam to her friend. "Best give (y/gen) the info on how we got here."

Tucker looked up and noticed you. Smiling, he waved before picking up his PDA and directing your gaze to the noticeboard.

"Danny told us everything about you and your world as soon as we came here." he primarily said. "How?" you asked. "He has ghost powers, remember? He gazed into your spirit and got the 411 instantly. We've dealt with stuff like your species before, so we know you can keep Danny's secret safe. But something happened a while back that jeopardizes it to the extreme!" "The whole '50 foot Danny' thing, right?" "Yeah. We were on a mission, catching ghosts, saving people, cracking jokes... the usual. But then Danny's pituitary gland started up a growth spurt, and the next thing we knew, Danny kept growing... and growing... and growing!" began Tucker. "He was becoming a danger to everyone around him." Sam added. "Not even 'going ghost' could stop the growing. We decided to take Danny under our wing and figure out how to stop the growth process. I mean, his parents were freaking out, we had to do something!" "Eventually, after we acquired these space suits for just such a situation, he outgrew our universe and wound up 50ft tall again in the Ghost Zone. Our enemies were ... less than pleased to say the least of our arrival, but we found that his growing was now limited to growth spurts of about 50ft each time. At least at first. But when he reached the 500ft mark, those spurts increased to 100ft each time. Then they went to war with us, but Danny outgrew the Ghost Zone as well." "Tucker thinks that if we find an atmosphere with the right ingredients, Danny's growth spurts could be controlled better, and from there we can find an antidote and return him back to normal. But so far he's outgrown 3 additional universes to the last two!"

You looked at the planets on the Post-It Notes stuck on the noticeboard. They had been arranged in the order that Danny's journey had progressed up to now. The first one had a drawing of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, but with an additional female member joining their ranks ("They had a bit of SHELLSHOCK when Danny became mega-sized!" exclaimed Tucker); the second planet had a drawing of what looked like Power Rangers, but with the year '1985' marked on it ("They're called the Lightning Rangers, and it turns out that Ghost Powers and Aura Power don't mix." stated Sam); the last had a picture of a blue hedgehog and a group of animals labelled 'Freedom Fighters' on it. ("Yeah, I'm sure your universe has a different explanation for how that one ended." Tucker said nervously. "Let's just say that Chaos Emeralds are definitely NOT edible!")

"Wow!" you exclaimed. "You've been to so many worlds already." "Yeah," Sam sympathized, "and we'll keep going for as long as it takes. We'll find a solution some day. How, I don't know. Though for now, it's you that we need, (y/n)." "Me? How can I help?" "Danny knows how much you admire him and how you value the importance of friendship." Tucker explained. "As you probably can figure out from my crude drawings, we have made lots of friends who helped us try and keep Danny's growth spurts under control. But no matter how many power sources we found and used, all of a sudden they became afraid of us and Danny and wanted him destroyed. So those friends we made became enemies just like that."

(He snapped his fingers to emphasize the point.)

"But when Danny gazed into your soul to see what sort of world you lived in," Sam chimed in, "he saw a level of love and kindness that wasn't really present in those groups before. We think you can help look after him and keep him a secret from the authorities, at least until we've done our research on your planet. (y/n), can you help us?"

Brushing the euphoric tears away from your eyes, your mind analyzed the situation: two of your favourite cartoon characters have stumbled onto the Real World, and not only have they gone through more trouble than they encountered back in their world, but they need you, yes you, to help Danny out, because of how much you cared for them when watching the show at home. Considering how charming and handsome he was in his normal size, it would be a heavenly sight to meet him in the black-outlined flesh for the first time.

"I'll do all I can to help you." you said eventually. "But trust me when I say this: you've come at an awkward time. Society as a whole is being divided; wars are being fought; the world could go up in flames any second! If we fail and Danny becomes mega- or even giga-sized, he could become part of World War III, and I don't think even his ghost powers could save all of us this time. We mustn't waste a second. How is he at the moment?"

Tucker looked at his PDA, scrolling through the screen with the stylus.

"By my calculations, since we came here last night, he grew another 50ft at midday, so that's 100ft... and considering the time of day... he's about 120ft tall. He's got enough food and water for the evening, though we might need to make another raid tonight. The hangar's height is sufficient enough for us to camp out here for tonight and quite possibly the next night. After that, we need to find a shelter in America big enough for us to make a new base..."

Sam drew your attention to the double-doors. (At last!) "Tucker's gonna be a while coming back down to Earth." she apologized. "But if you can make Danny feel welcome here to your planet, I can keep an eye on things at the office. Just be careful where you step, in case he doesn't see you. If you need us for anything, there's a call box thingy on the wall. Press the button and we'll be able to hear you from here. By the way, is this planet haunted?" "If you mean 'have we got ghosts?', then yeah. Though they seem content to moan and wail and knock things to the floors. As far as I'm aware, they aren't as deadly as the ones in your world. Why?" "Just monitoring his ghost powers. If your world had really bad ghosts, then we need to make sure he doesn't cause any collateral damage. I swear, if I see another angry mob wielding pitchforks and torches...!"

By now, the rain outside was coming down in bucket-falls, and you could hear thunder and lightning brewing some miles away.

Drawing a deep breath, you push through the double-doors and allow yourself to behold the wondrous sight before you.  Sitting down on the floor, the length of his legs covering almost the entire length of the hangar, was Danny Fenton himself, his shoes gently leaning on the wall to the far right. He was in his normal persona, the bottom of his giant white shirt billowing peacefully against the breeze of the fans in the ceiling, which also gently blew on the forest of black hair on his head. As your common sense battled against the volcanic build-up of pure romantic glee in your body, you noticed that he was sucking on the back of a juggernaut held between his fingers, like eating tubed yogurt, while next to him was a huge milk tanker with a makeshift giant straw poking out of the hole on its back. You notice the logo of your local supermarket festooned on the sides of the truck. If you were able to run round to Danny's other side, you would have noticed an empty Cadbury truck and two other juggernauts advertising the supermarket, one carelessly tossed onto its side like a discarded carton.

So THAT'S what they meant by 'raids' and 'thefts' earlier! It was quite obvious to you now that, because of Danny's new size, his appetite had grown as big as his body. Thus, the trio had to 'borrow' a couple of juggernauts from the supermarket's stores just to keep him well-fed and watered. You realize with a touch of sadness what they now have to go through just to keep everyone alive and Danny safe from harm.

"Hello." you squeaked, though you didn't intend to start off your conversation that way. Had you five more minutes to prepare, you would've gone for something better and perhaps more lively. Something to lighten the mood, perhaps? No matter...

The giant Danny's gaze shifted from his food supply to the tiny person below him. Giving out a contented (but loud) burp in the direction of the wall his feet were now resting on, he gently shifted part of himself towards you. A wave of uncertainty washed over you like a cool tidal wave made by the beach's waters on a mild summer's day.

"Hey there." he said, the volume of his voice echoing in your ears as his eyes now scanned your body over. WOOSH! Another wave of uneasiness splashed over your spine. You walked closer to him as you tried to come up with a word describing the reaction of seeing your beloved cartoon character interacting with real world objects like that film with the rabbit in, only this time he was bigger than nearly all of them (and you) there. A LOT bigger...

"Listen, my name is love and I've been a (y/n) of your show and I really Danny you, fan." you blurt out loud, the handsome sight of the giant before you obscuring your mind’s processing power for just a few seconds. "No, no, let me start again...."

"It's OK." Danny said gently. "I was like that when I met those turtle guys. They went into space once and met the Lost Galaxy Rangers! Isn't that cool or what?" "No, I think you mean the 'In Space' Rangers." you corrected him. You started to relax. It's OK! He's a bigger nerd than you, you think. Ooops, wrong choice of words.... "I've been into space 5 times already, and it's a totally amazing sight! Though I wish it was in a much better position." he sighed, a warm wave of air scattering through the atmosphere around you. A mixture of foody smells hit your nostrils. "You miss your parents and sister, huh?" you asked, the potential of you debating TV shows and other geeky things with your secret crush put on hold for the moment. Danny nodded. "Look, Tucker and Sam have told me everything about what had happened. They have entrusted me with the task of seeing to it that you get treated right here, on my world. No more ghosts, no more Zords, no more Shredders, no more nuclear weapons aimed at you, no more angry mobs wielding pitchforks and torches!" you announced. "And no more emerald-flavored rock?" Danny raised the smallest of smiles for such a huge hero. "Wait, what? You thought the Chaos Emeralds were crystal-shaped pieces of candy rock?!" you exclaimed, peels of giggling fits emanating between words. "Well, Sonic didn't really say HOW to use them. Plus chili-dogs were kinda giving me gas." Danny admitted.

Danny placed a four-fingered hand down gently next to you, so gentlemanly was the gesture that it didn't make a sound.

"(y/n), why not get a better view from above?" asked Danny. (Was that his best quip for such a moment, you wondered? Wouldn’t “Would you like a lift?” be better-suited?)

You carefully made your way to the hand and scrambled up onto the fingers, then slowly-but-surely made your way to his palm. Danny tried his best not to giggle too much. The contrast between two-and-a-half-dimensional skin and your three-dimensional figure was still unfathomable to describe, but as Danny gently lifted his hand to his face, you got a sense of how much he had grown. Your heart began to palpitate wildly as you saw Danny's cute, angelic face looking down at you with his ocean-blue eyes. No doubt he too was trying to figure out the best word to describe your appearance.

Five, maybe ten, minutes passed. And then...

"They start out like this," began Danny, trying not to raise his voice in case he accidentally busted your eardrums, "all those friends I've made. They've been on my hand before, looking up at me, like you're doing now. And then... then I grow bigger and bigger... and they then look up at me in rage. Then they either attack me with ninja weapons, or giant robots, or by curling up into a ball and launching themselves at me. They fear me. Do you fear me, (y/n)?"

A huge tear formed in the corner of his eye. Not a watery tear like you were accustomed to, but a bright blue cartoony tear. It slid down his face and then fell onto the thrown-away truck with an audible splosh, wetting it. Sam, who had seen Danny saddened by his thoughts from the office window, had come out through the double-doors, just in case you needed back-up. Tucker was still making calculations on his PDA and laptop.

"No." you said softly, gazing up at the forlorn titan. "In all honesty, I could never fear such a gentle and kind giant as you, Danny."

Reaching a hand out, you aimed towards a patch of Danny's face. Instinctively, Danny lowered his face closer. The tiniest touch registered in the half-teen, half-ghost's brain. That was the level of kindness and sincerity he felt when studying your spirit last night! It wasn't just the effects of the eclipse after all!

As for you, brushing the giant's tear-soaked face just felt like brushing the tear-soaked face of any normal human being, but there was something special to it. Something you couldn't describe...

A flash of light interrupted your thoughts, and then...

KAAAABOOOOMMM!!

A roar of thunder surprised you at the last second, sounding like an angry, godly beast. The weather had gotten worse by now. Mist filled the summer's evening as raindrops fell like hissing needles from the sky. You screamed in unpreparedness.

Danny cupped his other hand over you instinctively, letting the shade comfort you.

"Ssh, ssh." he said, gently. "I got you, (y/n), you’re safe; you'll be A-OK." "Thanks." you sighed softly. "I completely forgot about the storm outside." "Sometimes I do that too." Danny admitted. "Though that's not when I'm facing the military or giant robots, or ghosts or talking hedgehogs, or ninja turtles or badly-made mutants, or even...." "Angry mobs wielding pitchforks and torches!" you both exclaimed, laughing at how often that had been brought up over the time you had spent here. "We're not so different, are we?" Danny smiled, now his usual self again. "(y/n), will you come back and stay the night with us? I want to know a little bit more about you and your world, and I know for certain Tucker would, too! Maybe bring some tunes along?" "Yeah, sure." you smiled up at him. (For a while, the heat emitting from Danny's hands was making you drowsy, and you were about to nod off.) "You're welcome to bring a friend along," said Danny, "so long as they promise to keep all this a secret. (y/n), please keep my growth spurts a secret too. Until I can't hide in any more structures, that is. Man, that keeps happening to me lately!" "I know for certain (fellow DP fan's name) would honor your secret as much as I do." you said back as Danny gently lowered you down onto the floor. "Just wait until (fellow DP fan's gender) gets here and sees you!"

Now in the happiest of moods as a life goal had been crossed off your mental list, you happily walked to Sam and Tucker (the latter had finally been aroused from his carefully-worked-out research and scheduling, and had brought coffee for him and Sam). "I'll be back in a few hours with (fellow DP fan's name)." you told them. "We're bound to have the adventure of a lifetime with you guys!"

As you made your way back home, the storm had passed, and a bright blue sky now filled the outside world. Raindrops fell from the awning's corners, and both the atmosphere and your heart told you that, for now at least, a bright personal future lay in store for you and Danny.

The End. (Unless you want me to go on...?)

[trashmenofmarvel]

Homeward, Part 9

Pairings: Ward x friend!Reader, Danny x friend!Reader

Prompt: Reader is an abusive relationship with a member of the Hand and seeks out her childhood friends for help. (prompt by @rune-of-a-writer)

Warnings: Swearing, Implicit Domestic Abuse, Angst

Word Count: 1,869

AO3

Master List

Danny sat in the backseat with you on the drive back. His arm was no longer around you, but he sat close, his thigh touching yours. It was a small amount of comfort as you stared out the window. It was soothing to watch the cars and people flash by, a mix of colors and fragments of time. Their lives that had nothing to do with yours. Your nightmarish existence was unknown to them. It was small. Insignificant. And oddly reassuring. No one cared what had just happened to you. They had their own problems to deal with. It put things in perspective.

At least, that’s what you told yourself. What had happened wasn’t a big deal. It was over. The distance between you and your old life was growing with every passing second. Josh couldn’t hurt you again, and the sooner you put him out of the mind, the easier things would be.

The throbbing ache on the back of your skull made that difficult to believe.

You knew Danny kept looking at you with a worried expression on his face; you could see his reflection in the tinted window. Ward remained silent, his hands gripping the steering wheel with more force than necessary, his knuckles white with tension. The atmosphere was uncomfortable for everyone, but you didn’t know what to do other than to mentally retreat deeper and deeper, trying to let the events of the last half hour slide over and past you like a current of water.

Ward didn’t drive the company vehicle back to Rand headquarters. Instead, he drove straight to Danny’s building, stopping in the drop-off/loading zone. The security guards at the door began to come forward as the vehicle stopped, but as soon as Ward turned off the car and exited the vehicle, they immediately backed off. They must have recognized him, or maybe saw the company plates. You didn’t know. You were just trying your hardest not to think.

“Hey,” Danny spoke softly, and you pulled your gaze from the dark window to finally look at him. That soft, puppy expression was there, and it was hard to imagine he was the same man who had shoved Josh against the doorframe, fingers digging into his throat as he growled threats of harm.

“I’m fine,” you responded before he could even ask, and his open mouth closed with an unhappy frown.

You turned your head as the back hatch opened, and Ward’s tall lanky frame filled the opening as he began to pull out the suitcases.

“What are you doing?” you asked, blinking owlishly at him. The question caused him to draw an eyebrow upward.

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

“You should leave them in the car,” you responded dully as he looked at you more closely. “I’m not staying long.”

“What?” Danny looked even unhappier now, and slightly confused, and you clarified:

“I have my phone. And my wallet.” Danny continued to stare at you, uncomprehending, and you sighed. “I’m going to see if there are any vacancies at the edge of the city. I can afford a week, maybe more, if it’s a cheap hotel. If not, I can find something in Newark—”

Ward made an amused sort of noise, practically a snort, and lifted the two suitcases and pulled them from the vehicle.

“Ward!” you called, annoyance finally bringing some life back into your voice as he walked away, carrying the luggage to the front entrance of Danny’s building.

You turned to Danny, but any hopes of him backing you up vanished as you saw the earnest look in his eyes.

“(Y/N), I can’t in good conscience allow you to waste what little money you have when I have more than enough room. You can stay as long or as little as you like,” he interjected when you opened your mouth to protest. “You can leave whenever you want, and I won’t stop you. But you are always welcome here. You know that, right?”

“I… I know,” you responded dully, your shoulders drooping with guilt and exhaustion.

“So… please, stay? Until you get back on your feet, at least. Please?”

You searched his face, trying to find the words that would allow you to free your friends of the burden that was your presence. But Danny’s soulful blue eyes made the task damn-near impossible.

“Danny… I… I can’t ask this of you…”

“I know,” he said with a soft tone and an even softer smile. “That’s why I’m offering. You don’t have to ask. Just… please. Say yes?”

You observed his bright blue eyes, torn between the urge to run far away, and the desire to stay and not have to suffer. Alone.

You chose the selfish option.

“Okay,” you relented slowly, feeling the air and the resistance go out of you. You expected a bright, happy-go-lucky from Danny at your concession. Instead, there was a touch of sadness to his smile as he responded.

“You’re going to be okay, (Y/N).” He took your hand, squeezing it to reassure you. All it did was cause an echo of pain in your chest. “All storms, no matter how terrible, have to end at some point. They just have to be weathered before the sunlight can reach us.”

“Thanks, Danny,” you responded with your voice barely above a whisper, wondering what you had done to deserve such kindness. Danny gave you another reassuring smile, a squeeze of your hands, before letting go.

Transporting your stuff to Danny’s apartment had only taken one trip; Danny with the duffle bag and you with your backpack. Ward had already put the suitcases next to the bed, apparently confident Danny would be able to convince you to stay. Maybe he knew you better than you thought. Or maybe he just understood the uncanny powers of persuasion that Danny’s puppy-dog look could have. Most likely the latter.

When Danny had asked what you wanted for lunch, you had merely shaken your head and avoided eye contact with either of them as you stated, “I’m actually pretty tired. Do you mind if I rest for a while?”

Danny and Ward had exchanged a quick glance, something you noticed they did quite often, and Danny made his best attempt at a carefree smile as he turned back to you and said, “Of course not. Get some sleep.”

He didn’t hide his feelings very well. Ward was much better at that, his jaw set into a neutral position as his expression remained blank. But you knew neither of them were happy with your purposeful intention of avoiding them.

Lunch involved sitting down. Together. Where no doubt, Danny with his best intentions would try to talk about what happened. You knew they only wanted to help; to ease the burden you carried on your shoulders, hidden to the world but now revealed to your friends in startling clarity.

And you were not ready to have that discussion. Not yet, anyway.

“Thank you,” you responded with a flimsy smile, once again avoiding eye contact as you walked past Ward to the bedroom. He didn’t try to stop you, and some of the pressure that had been building in your chest eased up as you gently shut the door behind you.

You knew Danny had meant what he said, that you could stay as long as you wanted. But you couldn’t take advantage of him – not after he had done so much to help you already. So you got out your phone in preparation to search for the nearest cheap hotel you could find but then realized your cell signal was dead. Furrowing your brows, you opened up the Wi-Fi channels to see what was available.

There was a long list of them available from nearby routers, but one made the corner of your lip twitch. A channel named “Tranquility” was near the top of the list, and somehow, you knew that was Danny’s.

Phone in hand, you turned and opened the door, preparing to find Danny to ask him for the password. You stopped in the hallway when you heard a voice. Ward’s, speaking in a hushed, serious tone.

“Danny, don’t.”

“But I’m worried about her.”

“She will come out when she’s ready. Not a second sooner.”

“But…” You could hear Danny make a distraught noise. “What if she needs us with her? Especially after what that piece of shit scumbag just did?”

You were startled by Danny’s venomous tone. You knew he was concerned for your situation, but did he feel that strongly about it?

Another noise, this time Ward sighing through his nose. It was amazing how quickly you were beginning to notice Danny’s and Ward’s quirks and habits, and could interpret what they meant.

“What she needs right now, is some space.” Danny sounded like he was going to protest, but Ward interrupted him. “She just had her dignity robbed from her. Right in front of us. You don’t think she might want a little time to herself after that?”

“All the more reason why we should be in there, reassuring her, and—��

“You’re not listening, Danny,” Ward responded with frustration bleeding into his voice. “How do you think I would have reacted if you had walked in during one of the many times Harold beat me? Hmm?”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you covered your mouth to keep the noise from escaping. Ward’s dad… had done what to him?

“Do you think I would have welcomed your intervention with open arms? Or would I have been horrified that another person had just… witnessed my shame?” Ward’s voice slightly cracked at the end, causing you physical pain in your chest.

“Ward… that wasn’t your fault…”

“I’ll tell you how I would have reacted, Danny,” Ward continued, ignoring Danny’s attempt at comfort. “Like you were a hostile intruder, shining a light the deepest, darkest corners of my life. I wouldn’t have been grateful. I would have been furious. I might even have hated you.”

There was a tense silence that lasted several seconds, before Danny quietly asked, “Does she? Hate me?”

Ward scoffed and in a tired voice stated, “No, Danny. She doesn’t hate you. I said that’s what I would have done, and I’m a goddamn asshole. She… (Y/N) is a much better person than I am.” Ward paused for a moment, and added softly, “If she is reserving hatred for anyone in this situation, it’s for herself. Not you. Not me. Not even that literal piece of human garbage. She’s going to blame herself for this. I can promise you that.”

You couldn’t listen anymore. Not a moment longer. Judging by the way your hands were shaking, you had heard too much already. So you turned around, walked back into Danny’s bedroom, and quietly closed the door behind you.

Leaning against its hard surface, you squeezed your eyes tightly shut. There was a lump in your throat, and your eyes started to burn, but you refused to let any tears escape. Instead, you retreated to Danny’s King-sized bed, crawled beneath the giant comforter, and curled into a ball as you shut out the rest of the world.

Next Chapter

[dustedmagazine]

Listening Post, March 2017

It’s been a while since the Dusted staff has gone over the things we’ve been listening to (besides what we’re reviewing) of course, and a (relatively) new year and some new faces seemed like as good an occasion as any. Some witchcraft-based Liars reminiscing starts us off for a conversation that covers everything from the powerful emotions of the new Mount Eerie to a percussion record you can’t get digitally to the blues, and much, much more...

Ian Mathers

I guess one of the things about getting older as a music fan is that there's more chances with every year and every crop of new acts/albums to have a band you love but haven't played or thought about in a while pop into your head apropos of basically nothing. I still remember being back home some holiday weekend in my first year of university, idly flipping on MuchMusic, and seeing Ladytron's video for "Playgirl". It was shockingly out of step with what people were doing in 2001 (or at least what I was paying attention to), and I simultaneously loved it and felt vaguely marginal for doing so. Remembering "Playgirl" had me going back to their old albums, and slightly to my surprise I found that while I love them all (including 604, the most overtly throwback-y) the one that's aged the best is actually their slightly atypical synthpop/shoegaze (synthgaze? shoepop?) Witching Hour, from 2005.

My wife saw The Witch (or, I guess, The VVitch) when it played as part of the Toronto International Film Festival two years ago, and had been after me to watch it with her ever since, but I only felt in the right mood for it recently. Sure enough I loved it, but while I did think the score/sound design were great, ultimately it mostly had me reaching for my favourite Liars album (and, I suspect more and more, one of my favourite albums full stop), They Were Wrong, So We Drowned. It is, uh, not an optimistic record when it comes to human nature, politics, empathy, xenophobia, etc. I wish this didn't feel like such an apposite historical moment to brace ourselves and remember that sometimes there's just no avoiding the steamroller (cf. "Hold Hands and it Will Happen Anyways”). That the album tries anyways, if for nothing else than at least to leave a record of the injustice, feels important.

Damien Jurado, who has some fans here at Dusted, is a guy who's work I always respect but oddly enough generally can't get into that much; the exception is his 2006 album And Now That I'm in Your Shadow. I found myself listening to it late one night recently, which really is the perfect time for the record. I'd hesitate to call it a narrative, let alone anything like a concept album, but conceptually and emotionally it feels very much of a piece; whether or not these are the same people or even the same places the songs are suffused with desolation, infidelity, murder, loneliness. I've given his more recent work a listen or two and it's always been good but I think it's that for me And Now That I'm in Your Shadow is so singular in effect that Jurado's other work in the Catch 22 of me wanting it both to be exactly the same and somehow not just a retread. I do like one earlier (and creepier) song I heard somewhere, "Amateur Night", so maybe I should just find the album that's on and go from there. But maybe someone here has guidance for me.

Jennifer Kelly

Oh, Ian, you have just brought up two bands I LOVE, and, god dammit, we like different albums. 

Per Liars, I am a dyed-in-the-wood They Threw Us All in a Trench and Stuck a Monument on Top fan. It was my gateway, for one thing, to ESG. I am also partial to a split they did early on with Oneida, one of those you-cover-mine-and-I'll-cover-yours deals, so here they are revisiting "Rose and Licorice."

One of the top live experiences of my entire life was a show with Yeah Yeah Yeahs opening (after the first EP, before the first album), Liars (just off Trench) and Sonic Youth (I'm thinking maybe Murray Street?), where I just kept saying, this cannot get any better, the next band will be a let-down, and then the next band ratcheted it up and obliterated everything before it.

I also like that Jurado album, which was, I believe, the last one before he hooked up with Richard Swift and went less acoustic folk, more psychedelic, but my favorite ever of his is Mariqopa. I feel like he kinda flattened out the mythology by explaining it (circa Brothers and Sisters of the Eternal Sun), but in this album it's just sort of luminously, weirdly there, like a spaceship in the middle of a cornfield. You have no idea what it's about, and that makes it about everything.

Bill Meyer

I can't contribute much to discussion of the Liars or Jurado; neither exerts much attraction upon me. Two records that have ben drawing me back are Jon Mueller's DHRAANWDN (aka Hand Drawn) (Rhythmplex) and Eli Keszler's Last Signs Of Speed (Empty Edition). Both are limited edition double LPs by drummers, and both transcend whatever expectations you might have of a drummer's record. Beyond that they are very different. Mueller's comprises four sides of solo performance drawn from a six hour session he recorded in a Shaker meeting house. The drum kit plays the room's acoustics, resulting in waves of surging, polyrythmic sound. The sleeve, which varies a lot of white space with die-cut cut-outs that reveal a text about transformative experience and images of human-free environments, expresses the album's titular concept, as does the fact that you can only buy the physical object - there aren't even any digital promos.

Keszler's album, on the other hand, is a response to his performances over the past couple years at electronic music and dance venues. The extravagant bass presence counterbalances the precisely choreographed blizzard of discrete sounds that he generates with the rest of his kit, creating an impression of multi-dimensional space. Keszler creates a virtual space in part through physical effort, while Mueller inhabits a space that is physical but devoted to the spiritual. Both records are beyond solid. 

Derek Taylor

I can’t really speak to any of Ian’s musical selections so I’ll speak to his filmic one instead. I too loved the The VVitch for its exacting verisimilitude and expertly wrought and rising dread. Lots of great themes to unpack therein and Robert Eggers decision to go all in on a “what if there was actual veracity to events presaging to the Salem hysteria” scenario is a bold one as is the “damned if they do, damned if they don’t” plot arc of the film. Great casting too and a hair-raisingly satisfying denouement in the primeval (or is that prime evil?) woods that still sticks with me.

As to listening it’s been the usual juggle of new releases with older favorites. On the former front there’s, Deuce, tenorist Stephen Riley’s latest duo with pianist Peter Zak. The pair has a previous encounter and two more with Zak as a member of Riley’s quartet. It’s the usual amalgam of ancient standards this time with three interstitial “Interludes” by Riley interspersed and a gorgeous rendering of Joe Henderson’s “Tetragon”. They also tackle my favorite standard “Everything Happens to Me”, Riley pulling apart and contorting the melody like fluffy cotton candy with his inimitable hardened-reed rasp and without losing sight of the gentle fatalism at the tune’s core.

In terms of classics, it’s been the series of bootlegs documenting the Charles Mingus Sextet/Quintet's 1964 American/European tour (Cornell, Town Hall, Amsterdam, Oslo, Stockholm, Copenhagen, Bremen, Paris x2, Wuppertal, and Stuttgart). Every date has its ample charms, but the Cornell University hit released on Blue Note back in ’07 is the one I go back to most frequently, both for the quality of the concert and its capture on tape. Trumpeter Johnny Coles had yet to fall ill and is featured splendidly alongside Eric Dolphy and Clifford Jordan and calling Jaki Byard and Dannie Richmond a rhythm section is like reductively referring to James Baldwin as an African American author, it barely scratches the surface.

Bill Meyer: Peak Mingus!

Jennifer Kelly: Have any of you been listening to Mount Eerie's A Crow Looked at Me? So powerful, so beautiful, absolutely harrowing...but I can't imagine how you could possibly review it.

Bill Meyer: I've never listened to Mount Eerie much, but this one is in my inbox and I didn't delete it because of the story attached to it. I think I need to check it out.

Ian Mathers: I need to get my hands on that Mount Eerie and listen, but I'll admit to being a bit daunted... my mother-in-law died in 2015 and it made (for example) the Sufjan Stevens album from last year a simultaneously important and really challenging listen. My wife is still dealing with a lot of the emotional fallout, and we are both Microphones fans from back in the day, so I might give it some solo listens first, so she has some idea of how tough it might be.

Jenny, I absolutely adore They Threw Us All in a Trench... too, I wish I'd had the chance to see them around then! I'm sure they're still good in concert, but there's something about that record that seems like it would be ferocious live. And your cornfield spaceship description honestly makes me really excited to check out Mariqopa—honestly the fact that Jurado did extend the mythology made me a bit wary, but as a standalone maybe I can approach it.

Bill, that Kezsler sample is pretty damn interesting.

Mason Jones

I'm a fan of Liars' They Threw Us... as well, and saw them around that time here in SF playing with Animal Collective if I recall correctly. They put on an entertaining show. That album and They Were Wrong... were both pretty powerful at the time, and then they lost steam somehow and became more predictable. Interestingly I thought their most recent album, Mess, was an improvement. Though slicker than it needed to be, there were good ideas percolating through it.

On the newer side, I've been surprised by how much I'm enjoying the newest Grails album, Chalice Hymnal. It's a pretty great combination of heaviness, stonedness, and kosmische rock. I also stumbled on the self-titled album by Helén, which is intriguing. Some is reminiscent of early Circle given the strong rhythmic foundation, but it gets into some rock-epic portions and, I don't know, prog-opera-something? Hard to describe and I haven't made up my mind whether it all works or not. But it's a worthy listen.

Bill Meyer: All right, I'm going to check out Mount Eerie. 

I'll mention one other thing I've been playing lately. Having spent a bit of time with the Bruce Langhorne tribute album The Hired Hands this past month and the excellent Robbie Basho tribute Basket Full Of Dragons last fall, I'm ready to turn down my disdain for tribute records - at least when they involve very strong acoustic musicians honoring a great guitar player. So I dug out the first Basho Tribute, We Are All One, In The Sun, which was released by Important Records in 2010. I've been playing it over and over. Like Dragons, it was assembled by Buck Curran , who sure knows how to pick people who know their Basho. It begins and ends with Steffen Basho-Junghans playing variations on a couple of his namesake's tunes on a 12-string, and his lyric extrapolations make me really wish he would put out another record and finally tour the USA. But that's not to slight the excellent contributions by Meg Baird, Helena Espvall, and several others.

Brett Marion

I was witness to that same fantastic Liars/Yeah Yeah Yeahs tour leg too, caught them upstairs at the Magic Stick in Detroit. I was pretty smitten with Karen O at the time—from the cover of that first ep, and the range of her vocals—sometimes country accent, sometimes speak-sing, sometimes fragile, like on that “Crimson & Clover”-esque last song, “Our Time,” and then how she impossibly strangles the title to “aaaaaaaarrrrrrt staaaaaarrrr.” And Liars’ Angus Andrews seemed like seven feet tall. He might be. Great stage presence, both bands—exuding lots of confidence and attitude—but naïve, friendly, and approachable. I liked Trench a lot but thought They Were Wrong, So We Drowned was even better—it just nailed an overall Halloween feel.

Lately, I’ve had a hard time digging too deep in any one direction. The last half year or so I’ve been doing okay keeping up with Stephan Mathieu’s ambitious 12 CD release, Radiance, issued one month at a time, I think he’s through about ten so far. The last two, To Have Elements Exist In Space and Feldman have been one-track near hour-long pieces, so I haven’t made it all the way through those yet. The newest Six Organs of Admittance, Taylor Deupree, and PAN label stuff have been on, but not absorbed entirely. I also find myself getting sidetracked with making compilations that I occasionally post on Mixcloud (sort of the whole ‘80s-‘90s ‘mixtape’ thingy I’m sure we’ve all done for people), my latest—not completed—mixes/drafts being a ‘beginner’s guide to Alice Coltrane’ and ‘GAS,’ but it’s always a long process and I only ever get around to completing one or two a year, tops.

Bill Meyer: What does Mathieu sound like these days? I'm a bit out of the loop, although I have enjoyed some of his records immensely in the past.

Brett Marion: He sounds quite a bit like he always has—that grainy, shifting textural drone. Some tracks hit where it hurts so good, while others… meh. The last few year’s it seems he’s been into exploring more long-form pieces. One release, Nachtstucke, from 2015, featured a one hour piece, a piece over two hours, then two more around the half an hour mark. I wonder how many have made it through that over two hour piece more than once.

Bill Meyer: Well, I did just buy an LP he made with Kassel Jaeger and Akira Rabelai, I'll see how that one goes. Can't get everything.

Matt Wuethrich

I assume you mean Zauberberg on Shelter Press, Bill? Excellent LP. It's very diffuse in structure but still feels like there's a lot to take in. It's kind of a marvel how they embed they approaches within each other and shapeshift through different sonic spaces (Mathieu's manipulations of mechanical/acoustic historical recordings, Jaeger's field recordings, Rabelai’s digital treatments).

In my own listening I've been pretty deep into the official reissue of Giusto Pio's Motore immobile on Soave, sublime minimalism from Italy that first probably appeared on most people's radar through Alan Licht's minimalism lists (specifically Minimalism Top Ten III). Just organ/piano, voice and violin. Rich and hypnotic.

Bill Meyer: Yes, that's the one. I haven't scratched the surface but I am glad to hear that you find it deep. Gotta check out the Pio.

Justin Cober-Lake

I've been digging into a somewhat random cross-section of blues recently, connected to a project looking at possible points of connection between that genre and psalms of lamentation and maybe the book of Lamentations (though that may have a different focus). I don't have much to say on the subject yet, but I've been thinking about how the hill country artists really dig into an issue and stick there until it's worked out (or until the tape runs out or whatever). Charles Caldwell is the guy standing out to me right now, particularly his confused complaint on "Hadn't I Been Good to You."  The Junior Kimbrough I grabbed this morning, All Night Long, was a sort of comical comparison, since it's largely a sex album.

There's something about the groove that makes this connection more noticeable, though I'm not sure how much it will translate to trance-blues acts like Otis Taylor (or even R.L. Burnside) who often use repetition more to set up storytelling or to do other things.

Derek Taylor: That’s an area of music near & dear to me, Justin. I coincidentally spun that Caldwell album this weekend too after re-opening a rabbit hole with the George Mitchell Collection box set. Such a shame it was Caldwell's first & last. Kimbrough (and really nearly all of those hill country guys from Burnside on down to T Model Ford) had copulation on the brain much of the time and its more misogynistic manifestations ("You Better Run") more often that I'd like. 

I remember catching Burnside prior to & during the self-parody phases of his career and being pretty demoralized by the latter seeing him run through the tropes (“Well, well, well…”), and take copious swigs off a decapitated kewpie doll filled to the severed neck w/ whiskey. T-Model Ford was like that too (“It’s Jack Daniel’s Time!!!”, apparently between EVERY song). Fat Possum did a lot of arguable good in getting those guys gigs/tours/etc., but they did a fair share of bad too in enabling/reinforcing a lot of their worst tendencies. 

Guessing you‘re familiar w/ Mitchell & the box, but if not I can’t recommend it highly enough. Mitchell did work similar to the Lomaxes, but with a level of candor & self-awareness that they often lacked. The accompanying booklet is nearly as priceless as the music as it’s filled with anecdotes of Mitchell’s travels & encounters, often hilariously so. This missive about Big Joe Williams is one of my favorites as it really captures the essence of the guy: "At one point, we drove with him down to St. Louis to find Walter Davis and Henry Townsend. On the way down, Big Joe announced that he had to take a shit, and I told him we'd pull into the next service station. And he said, "No, I like country shits. Just pull over to the side of the road—I want to take me a good old country shit."

Matt Wuethrich: A big, big second on that George Mitchell set...it seems to be rather low profile considering the wealth of material on it. Every time I spin it I discover some new gem. (For five discs, it's relatively inexpensive, too.)

Jennifer Kelly: Anyone else (besides Bill Meyer, who’s reviewed it) into that new Tinariwen?  And, quick question, if anyone has access to liners, is that Mark Lanegan?

Also really, really digging that the Bug Vs. Earth collaboration, so dark and clanky and post-atom-bomb-ish, exactly what I need at this point.

Bill Meyer: That’s Lanegan.

Ian Mathers: I've heard you and others praise the Bug Vs. Earth album, Jenny, and honestly the two make for such weirdly fitting collaborators I'd want to check it out just based on the combination. "Dark and clanky and post-atom-bomb-ish" sounds about perfect for 2017. Would you mind uploading it to the drive at some point?

The blues are one of those genres where I know I like at least some of it, but something's kept me from going much deeper with it. My dad got the (de rigeur, I assume) Robert Johnson box set when I was a kid and I love a lot of that, and I've gotten the odd album or comp I've loved from Son House or Howlin' Wolf or Buddy Guy (in the latter case, specifically Sweet Tea) but that itch feels mostly scratched at this point?

Bill Meyer: I just listened to a bit of it, Ian. Yeah, it's dark and clanky all right. I think the sounds are cool, and I'm intrigued that the Bug has cottoned to Earth's restraint. I expected an attempt to lure Earth into less measured venting of darkness.

Derek Taylor: Guy’s Sweet Tea is a curious case as it involved him jumping on the Hill Country bandwagon w/ Kimbrough & Cedell Davis covers and a Fat Possum production facsimile. Some called it a crass cash-in, others a sincere stab at homage. I don’t go back to it often & when I do just in doses, but considering Guy’s place in the music I’m inclined to go with the latter take. Guy’s been a proponent of commercially viable blues since he got his start in Chicago with Muddy Waters, so it makes sense that he would be attracted the Fat Possum aesthetic at that time although the guys there have taken pains over the years to stress just how shakey that business paradigm is in the larger music business scheme.

Speaking of Davis, he’s definitely one to delve into especially the early material released on the L+R Living Country Blues USA series, half a cd, Highway 61, on the Wolf label, and his first for Fat Possum, Feel Like Doin’ Something Wrong. Utterly unique approach to slide guitar necessitated by partial paralysis from a youthful bout with polio. Some enterprising (if largely erroneous) journalist dubbed him the “Ornette Coleman of blues guitar”, if I recall correctly, for his ability to make familiar fascinatingly foreign through tonal plasticity. He’s apparently still kicking at 89 and put a record out last year. Some vintage footage:

Ben Donnelly

Liars’ dedication to conceptual switcheroos shows the long-term hazards of being dedicated to approaching each album as a blank slate. My fatigue has generally increased each time I try out the latest Liars, to the point that I don't check their releases out right away. I'm sure I'm missing some gems in there, and suspect it will all make more sense in the future. The ramblings of The Fall and Wire fifteen years into their careers makes more sense now.   That said, that first pivot between the on-trend disco punk to graveyard junkyard percussion was landmark, one of those moments where the leading edge re-shuffles the received history. The arc from 1981 Danceteria to No Wave to Einstruzende Neubauten is pretty direct, but by 2000, all I could see was that one end resulted in "Love Shack" and the other in post-rock. Liars sent out a big signal - they were looking at history differently, felt free to jump between the connections they saw, and their revision enlivened everything. The early single "You Know I Hate Stupid Phones" goes a lot of places in two minutes, one of those gems that gets lost in their constant shuffle:

Ladytron I like even better. Artists who are so ready for Vogue Italia will always be held in suspicion in less fashionable quarters. I liken them to Siouxsie and the Banshees: art bands who are facile with hooks and glamour to the extent that it's easy to underestimate them. Approaching both, there's the temptation to put aside the style statements and the associations with lesser goth/electro acts and try take the brilliant singles and remixes as stand-alone artifacts. But that's a mistake—the mascara is as necessary as with Bowie and Prince. When they declared "they only want you when you're seventeen, when you're twenty one you're no fun" it's impossible to tell which side of the cynicism holds their sympathies. Probably both, which is why their best tracks frequently slap me like I haven't heard them a hundred times. This high concept obscurity, Missy Elliot rethought as Japanese synth-punk, still bewilders.

Ian Mathers: Derek, that Cedell Davis video is damn good, I'll have to track down an album.

Ben, I can't believe I forgot to mention Ladytron's "Oops" cover—literally one of one my favourite covers ever, and one where I love both it and the original about equally in a way that means I don't even know which one I'd pick if forced to (and also, incidentally, the place where Ladytron got closest to Add N to (X), if anyone remembers them). That early Liars track, though, I'd somehow never heard. I really, really love the bass sound on their early records.

Derek Taylor: Tenorist Fred Anderson’s birthday yesterday (he would’ve been 88) sparked a shelf perusal of his work. The flurry of activity in his final years leaves a pretty respectable discography. I opted for Black Horn Long Gone on Southport, a ’90 studio trio session in Chicago with Malachi Favors and the erstwhile AJ Shelton released in ’09. It’s a loose & limber date with Favors negotiating Fred’s singular horn vernacular in a sometimes akimbo manner that takes a bit of getting used to. Shelton, operating under his woke moniker Ajaramu, isn’t always entirely on the same page either, but occasional surface discombobulations don’t detract in the least from the deep reservoir of feeling feeding the music. The solo “Ode to Clifford Jordan” is the rare chance on record to hear Fred in that format for the duration of a piece.

Time spent with Anderson usually means revisiting the other two Freds that comprise my Fred triumvirate, McDowell & Wesley. Currently ears-deep in the Arhoolie collection Good Morning Little School Girl which cherry-picks from McDowell’s Janus-worthy repertoire of blues and spirituals. His wife Annie Mae & a small contingent from their Como, MS congregation join him on a couple of the latter.