#if your cat is an outdoor cat it's so much harder for them to figure out why your cat is limping/sick

[thesnowqueen]

this one person at work was telling me how one of her cats got pregnant and then she had like 6 kittens she needed to find homes for. and she was also telling me how another kitten was the sweetest thing and had a such a big personality and then the kitten got hit by a car and she was really sad. it took all of my willpower to not snap and go "that's why you shouldn't let your cats go outside, dumbass"

[cyncerity]

I am screaming over your new au!! Just simply feral.

While with Wilbur does Tommy ever eat borrowers without Wilbur knowing? (like does a borrower simply go to move in and Tommy is like "sweet, some food!")

also is Tommy satisfied with eating non-borrowers? (I guess what I'm trying to ask is it like a cat thing where he's fine with eating food given to him but he just has a drive to hunt and kill? If that makes any sense) (I think you might have covered that in your overview of the au but I'm not super sure ?)

also the scientists just simply forgetting that they should teach him how to hunt if he was to be a predator to borrowers is such an over sight on the part, or was that something meant to come later in his training?

are emerald duo in this? What are their roles/how do they fit in the story?

I am so fascinated over this au! I don't think I've ever seen one where the *borrower* was the dangerous one 👀

IM SO GLAG YOU LIKE THIS AU THANK YOU FOR GIVING ME AN EXCUSE TO TALK ABOUT IT MORE

As for borrowers moving in, there haven’t been any since Tubbo, though Tommy would probably eat them if he knew Wilbur wouldn’t find out (at least early on in the au, eventually he gets to a point where he wouldn’t want to disappoint Wil and wouldn’t try to eat them, as much as he’d want to)

Tommy mainly just eats whatever he can grab, even though he doesn’t like eating anything more than he likes eating borrowers cause that’s just what he was taught to enjoy. However, there is a lake near Wil’s house, and that’s Tommy’s second favorite way to get food. Him and Wil go there usually once or sometimes twice a day so Tommy can get a proper amount of food, though they do have to time it so there aren’t any people nearby. So, kinda like a cat, but he initially refuses to eat any food that can’t fight for its life cause he doesn’t see the point. He eventually relents to eating other things, but still prefers live prey by a long shot.

Hskdksjshsks I wrote this and i didn’t even think about that, so i’m assuming that’s what the scientists did. They made a borrower murder machine creature and were like “yeah he’s fine, we taught him how to kill.” The scientists basically fed him by trapping a borrower in a room with him twice a day and letting him eat them, so Tommy definitely knows how to kill. In an outdoor environment, however, he has no idea how to track, trap, or corner prey, so it’s a bit harder for him. I think that would have come later once Tommy was determined to be the most successful experiment (cause there were definitely some others 👀), but he broke out before that could teach him more.

I’m trying to figure out what to do with the Emerald duo, but im gonna be honest, idk what to do with them rn. I’ll figure it out eventually, but for rn it’s gonna be mainly crimeboys until i get more ideas lol

Thank you!! I absolutely love feral tinies, and i decided that feral wasn’t enough, i needed homicidal hsksksksh

also i loved murderous Tommy in Charlie’s 100 days video (i mentioned this already but i’ll say it again cause i love zom tom) so the ideas combined themselves >:)

[gremlinbehaviour]

“I– I think I need to sit down.” and “I'm fine...just a little dizzy.” with Lancelot and character(s) of your choice, if you're still taking prompts? <3

Ever since he was a kid, Lancelot had loved bats. They used to live in the barn behind his house, and even though his parents said they were bad luck, he had loved to listen to them chatter and squabble with each other and feel the air churned up by their wings. When he came to Camelot, the belfry had quickly become one of his favorite places, especially in the spring. That was when the bats had their pups, little hairless things that covered every inch of the ceiling and gradually grew in size and strength and gained soft fur over their backs and ears. Sometimes the babies fell from the ceiling where they were supposed to cling, and Lancelot gently picked them up and placed them up on the wall as high as he could reach so they could climb back up to their friends and mothers. He didn’t want them to get stepped on by the tower keeper.

Normally, the little guys weren’t hurt by falling, but once, he’d picked one up only to realize it had broken its wing. He’d taken it down to Merlin to heal, and since it was such a tiny bone, the warlock’s mediocre healing abilities allowed him to fix it. Gaius, however, explained that now that they had touched it without gloves on, it might be rejected by its mother if Lancelot tried to take it back, so the knight resolved to raise it himself. He figured out how to feed it by dipping the corner of a cloth in milk and letting it suck on it like he knew mothers would sometimes do with a dehydrated human child, and once it started to grow little teeth, he caught moths by candlelight to feed it. The baby bat lived in his dresser when he wasn’t handling it, handing in the top drawer by his shirts. Once it started testing its wings out when he held it, Lancelot started keeping his window closed and letting it fly around the room, much to his and Elyan’s delight when the other knight came to watch. Eventually, though, it was time to return him home, and Lancelot brought a step stool with him to the belfry so he could place his little friend up on the ceiling among companions a little closer to his own size.

Lancelot knew he shouldn’t think about that right now and that doing so would only make this harder, but he couldn’t help it. For the past week, Camelot had been besieged by aggressive bats closer to the size of cats than mice, with teeth and temperaments to match. They came out as soon as the sun started to set, not even waiting until it was properly dusk, and tried to bite and scratch anyone caught outdoors. Their behaviour and size were so unusual that Gaius concluded that they were being crafted or controlled by a sorcerer trying to weaken Camelot, wearing it down through the persistent assault. Arthur and the knights had ridden out at dawn, trying to trace the bats back to their roost and hopefully the sorcerer. Although they didn’t find any humans, there was evidence that the bats had been poisoned with magic as the cave they found that they lived in emanated a dark aura. Merlin had begun to feel it from miles away, but up close, it was clear to all of them that this place was wrong. They kept the bats at bay with torches as they made up a plan to deal with them.

“Arthur, Gwaine, and I should go in, since we’re the least likely to hit our heads on the ceiling of the cave,” Elyan suggested, for once taking pride in his height, or lack thereof.

“And do what?” Lancelot asked nervously. He had a bad feeling about where this was going, even though he knew these bats weren’t like the ones he loved. Not anymore, at least, but maybe if they were just under a spell, it could reversed. When he looked up at Merlin for hope, though, the warlock subtly shook his head.

“We’ll kill as many as we can, and flush out the rest to the rest of you,” Arthur added to the plan. “You can stand in the cave entrance and kill any that come your way with swords and torches.”

“I’m not going in there!” Merlin objected vehemently. He glanced at Lancelot as he said it, making it clear that the reluctance was more on his friend’s behalf than his own.

“Oh don’t be such a girl,” Arthur taunted.

“No, he’s got a point,” Lancelot spoke up. Someone should be outside to deal with any stragglers. I’ll stay out here with him too.” He couldn’t avoid this masacre completely, but he appreciated that maybe he could stay on the outside of it. Senseless death never sat well with him and he didn’t think he would be able to handle being inside that cave.

Even as it was, Lancelot immediately felt sick as they began to enact the plan. When the first of the bats made it out past Percival and Leon’s swinging swords and torches, he found he couldn’t raise his sword to meet the threat. He couldn’t deny them their chance at life, and if there was a few bats left, that could’t cause too many problems, could it? Those that made it past him, however, often seemed to fall to the ground unexpectedly, and Lancelot for once wished that Merlin wouldn’t use his magic. The chattering of the creatures rang loud in his ears as it began to peter out.

When it was done, he was breathing as hard as the other knights as they staggered out of the cave, even though he hadn’t done anything. All of his friends bore a few scratches to their faces, and Percival to his exposed arms, but otherwise they seemed alright. When Arthur asked if everyone was okay, though, he was looking at Lancelot.

“I’m fine… just a little dizzy,” he answered, leaning back against a tree.

Merlin frowned. “Maybe we should move away from the cave. I think you’ll feel better then.”

“I can’t believe you like those things,” Leon said with a shudder, but he took Lancelot gently by the arm to help lead him away from the cave entrance farther into the woods. “I kept thinking they were going to get tangled up in my hair.”

“You sound like Gwaine,” Percival teased.

“At least I had the good sense to pull mine back,” the knight in question retorted. He had indeed pulled his hair back into a ponytail, which looked good on him, although the effect was somewhat ruined by him being covered in blood and his boots slicked with guano.

“I’ll just be glad to be away from the smell,” Arthur grumbled. The cave had already stank as they approached, and the masacre had only made things worse. Lancelot thought he was going to be sick. Leon’s hand clenched tighter around his arm and there was a loud noise by his ear. Only after he opened his eyes, which he didn’t remember closing, did Lancelot realize that Elyan had grabbed his other arm to keep him from falling over, and the shout had been one of alarm since he had almost just fainted.

“I- I think I need to sit down,” Lancelot murmured, his legs already threatening to buckle under him. Elyan and Leon quickly lowered him to sit on a log and put his head down on his knees.

“You don’t say,” Merlin remarked, but his voice was taught with worry as he rushed over to his friend. “Did you hit your head?” he demanded, hands already searching through his hair for any sign of damage.

“No. I don’t think so at least. I’m just- I just hated that. That was the most awful thing I’ve ever done.” He had pressed his eyes closed, trying to avoid the sight of his friends drenched in bat blood.

“I knew you shouldn’t have come,” Arthur sighed. “I’m sorry, Lance, I never should have invited you.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine, I know it needed to happen,” Lancelot murmured. Even if Arthur had given him a way to opt out, he wouldn’t have taken it. Merlin needed someone watching his back, and the servant never would have agreed to stay behind, since he was always determined to watch Arthur’s back, even against something as harmless as some bats. Gods, Lancelot wished they hadn’t had to kill them.

“You can ride with me back home, when you’re ready,” Percival offered, and Lancelot picked his head up to nod.

“Yeah. Okay.” He let himself be guided to his feet and back to the horses. As soon as he returned to Camelot, he was going to go straight to the belfry. Maybe there would be a little orphaned pup that he could care for, to start to make up for what had happened today.

[yerevasunclair]

Ned x Cat Drabble: Quitting Bad Habits (FULL STORY)

WARNING: R-18, HEAVY SMUT 

“Ned...” Cat calls his attention. His wife had just come home from a social charity event while he chose to stay behind to finish some house repair and interior modifications. 

“You’ve smoked 8 sticks today, or more perhaps.” she reprimands him, yet in a calm tone with arms crossed. It was a windy autumn night and the air frolicked her hair and tossed the bottom of her trenchcoat to reveal her slender figure contoured by the white wide leg jumpsuit. Her wife was aging gracefully and his heart never fails to throb at the sight of her.

“From 20 to 10, from 16 to 8... It’s a big difference. I can’t quit it, love. I’m trying but it’s too hard to give it up” he glances at the floor and taps the cigarette residue shyly. 

“I know, but we have to take care of ourselves too. I want us to live a little bit longer Ned. I’m sure you’d wish that.” Catelyn draws nearer as her disappointment urges her to gather her thoughts as to how to convince her husband why they must break the habit. 

“I’m just as frightened as you are. We have a number of friends who are dead or dying because of cancer lately, some are even younger or with a healthier lifestyle than us.. Life is so unpredictable, isn’t it?”

“All the more reason to persevere even harder. It does not change the statistics that we are at a high risk, Ned. Regardless of the fact that there are those who still got cancer even if they’ve never smoked in their life or that there are also some who miraculously lived up to the age of 90 despite smoking a pack everyday. It’s not only cancer that we are at risk of having but it includes cardiovascular diseases. Generally, it’s too many health conditions to mention, Ned!”

“Imagine how much it would cost us. It’s not just about the money, it’s the pain we have to go through. At our age, it’s not about that “you only live once” aphorism. The point is, sacrificing this pleasure will spare us from further harming ourselves AND our grandkids.”

“Yes, i get it. The harms of second and thirdhand smoking. That’s why i only smoke outdoors, never do when they are around and make sure the house is 100% clean and nicotine free.”

“Look we can’t quit abruptly of course, but we have to support each other and take this one step at a time. We’ve come a long way, Ned even though the side effects of stopping makes it tougher.”

Ned simply nods in agreement and exhales. He was bored and it wasn’t the time for sleep. 

“How many did you smoke, today?” he smirks as he shifts the course of the discussion to an amusing trickery, “And don’t lie, Cat”

Catelyn grunts with frustration at his inquiry. Catelyn victoriously prohibited herself of it COMPLETELY for almost 5 months only to get back at it since yesterday. She bites on her lower lip and closes her eyes for a moment.

“Fine, damn it....it’s a 5”

“Make this your sixth stick, angel.”

“You devil Ned!! Don’t tempt me, I’m warning you!” she stomps her foot and glares at him.

“Please...just for this cold night, my love. Keep your coat on, sit on my lap and let’s have a chat.” He sits on their luxurious pool lounge chair and presses the previous cigarette butt on the ashtray to his right side. He then claps on his thighs to summon his cat for him to pet.

“For the last time...” 

“Which will not be the very very last, I’m sure” he grins with satisfaction as she struggles to resist the inclination.  

She did have a lot in mind to talk about, particularly with what happened at the party, all the new people she’s met and constructive pieces of information she’s picked up from them. 

Catelyn finally relents as she slowly walks and charmingly falls to her irresistible man. Ned licks his lips as he scribbles for the brushed metal cigarette case. The two pick their sticks to place it on their mouth together. Catelyn proceeds to bring the tip of hers to his for him to light up.

They start to puff away and enjoyed a period of silence. Catelyn asks her Ned for a favor to massage her sore gastrocs and heels as she tells him all about her day. Ned also shares about showing her all the home repair and improvement he accomplished before they go to bed. 

“Maybe we should get help from a health program.” she later suggests, noticing that the cigarette had already diminished to a half. It was a silly idea to her of course, but self-reliance isn’t a guarantee. Catelyn again promises herself to dominate Ned the next time at the back of her mind.

“Seriously?” Ned scoffs, “Your staunch advocacy for smoking cessation goes this far?” 

“We can’t do this on our own. We’re failing now and we’ll fail many more times.” she persuades them both as she decides not to fully consume it any longer. 

“We’ll do fair all by ourselves. We’ve got each other, Cat. Let’s just relax..” he tightly wraps his arms around her. Her perfume and his poisonous scent were mixing. She could not deny it was indeed so pleasurable. 

“FOR NOW. But I still beg you, Ned. Commit yourself to this. It isn’t too late.” she combs his messy hair. 

“All right, I will. I will also quit enticing you with it. I understand you are encouraging this for our future and I’m grateful for that. I love you for that, sweetheart.” 

Ned caresses her jaw and lingeringly kisses her with utmost tenderness. Catelyn pinches the back of his neck and claws the base of his skull as she opens her mouth so their tongues would collide. The taste of him was a heightening stimulation that pumped more blood to her aching head. As the side of her hip numbed bearing her weight she changes her position to straddle him. They continue to kiss as she takes off her coat and hurls it aside. He runs his hands from her bare shoulder, arms to hands to keep them against his chest. He wanted her to feel how his heart beats and how his lungs breathe just for her. She begins to grind on him harder, the delicate fabric of her jumpsuit rubbing against his black crepe trousers making the pressure easier to perceive. They rock their hips against each other in a rhythm until she moaned as her clit had been increasingly invigorated. Ned kissed and bit her neck some more to mark bruises on it. Sadly, their dry humping session did come to an end. They would not have ended their make-out session so soon, but they had to as the rain showered with the strong, whistling wind. They laughed to such an erotic merriment and hurriedly got up to seek for shelter.

------

“Didn’t know it would rain tonight.” Cat said as she stood by the sliding glass door, watching the branches of the maple tree swaying harshly. 

“I heard in the news there would be a storm”. Ned wrapped his arms around her waist, as the thunder in the sky roared. 

“Where were we again?” She asked

“We were kissing. Want to continue?” Ned seductively whispered in her dainty ear. 

“Definitely. I’m desperate for your warmth, my love.” She turned to face him and unbuttoned the choker detail of her plunge suit. 

“Let’s hurry and do it in the recliner.” He grabbed her hand and led her there. As he sat, he automatically leaned back and the footrest of their recliner popped up. 

She was about to sit on his lap until it dawned on her that she was still fully dressed. She watched him, while he was staring at her from head to toe patiently. She reached at her back and smoothly unzipped what she was wearing. She hooked her fingers at the shoulder straps and revealed to him her beige, stretchable tulle lingerie. 

He licked his dried lips, thirsting over the hazelnut-colored nipples and the auburn pussy that he could see through her sexy undies. Their youthfulness was fading but she became more alluring as the years passed by. He thanked the heavens that he was blessed to have a wife like her. 

She went to him, propped her knees on the sides of him and settled down on his hard bulge. They continued the make out session that was interrupted a while ago, tasting and breathing each other in, in this dark corner of their living room. 

It has already been a few months of their empty nest life and they did not feel too bad about it. Ned was calm about the thought of his children leaving, though he admits that he missed the days when they were small and light enough to be carried in his arms. Catelyn, like all mothers are, would get teary-eyed every time she dropped one wolf pup to live in an apartment or dormitory near their dream college or university. But when Rickon left, she had accepted the fact that she could not keep them forever in her arms and they had to let their wings fly as soon as they were able.

 They are proud to have reared their children well. They are confident that they have taught them enough and with that, they give their children their complete trust to do great all by themselves. Now  their attention and focus has shifted back to their marriage, keeping the erotic passion in it burning. It was the biggest advantage that they could boldly mention, making love without any worries of being caught or having to go to a farther, fancy locale just to get down to it. 

She moved her hand from his jaw to his chest and felt a round object inside the front pocket of his shirt. She inserted her fingers, pinched on the wrapper of a candy and broke the kiss for a moment. 

“Oh, perfect timing. You have mint candy.” She said as she tore the wrapper and put the chocolate coated menthol inside in her mouth. 

“We should add some more flavor to our kissing, don’t you like that, honey?” She continued to tease him as she moistened the candy and spread its sweetness all throughout her gums and palate.

“Sure. I like anything that you like.” He knew exactly what she meant to do, passing the candy back and forth with their twirling and frolicking tongues. 

They did just that. It increased their arousal as they became aware of the thought that this will only stop until the candy has entirely melted. Catelyn began to feel the heat and wetness in between her legs and she prayed that Ned would do something about it. No words were needed because Ned felt the urge to use his fingers to play with her genitalia. His hands the whole time were squeezing one breast and the other that was on her buttock crawled its way inside her panties. 

Catelyn spread her legs wider and transferred her knee to bear weight on the arm rest, allowing his fingers to wholly dig in. His thumb circled at her quimberry while his fingers searched for her other deeper, sensitive spots. It took two minutes and he finally hit on the jack spot. He was certain that he found it because Cateyn moaned louder and her hips rolled frenziedly as a response. They went on and on until the candy became as small as a pearl and Catelyn swallowed the rest so she could take them on a carnival ride. 

Ned pulled his lips from her so he could advance to her graceful, Chanel-scented neck. He lapped on every inch as Catelyn hastily removed her bra and hurled it aside. Her breasts were now free and he trailed on her collarbones and bent his head to please them.  

“Oh, Ned.. oohh…” she moaned his name as she tilted back to 45 degrees, clawed on his hair and pressed him against her while he was noshing on her two mushy nips. Her hips continued rocking irregularly as he persisted stroking profoundly and strenuously on her tunnel.

The sound of the heavily pouring rain grew louder and the thunder bellowed once more. It did not take long and she followed. 

“Ah, AAAAahhh!” She came as he curled and hooked on her with more force. She pulled his hair as she felt her leg muscles spasmed to squirt the cream pie out of her. 

“Oooohhh.. oh..hnnh” she bit her lower lip as Ned brought her back upright. She looked in between and saw her juices tremendously flowing to his hand. Her loving husband gathered them up from her thighs and sucked them from his middle and index fingers. 

“Mmmm…You’re like fresh berry cream cake..so delightful..” he gazed at her as he leisurely slurped the remaining sticky fluid. 

“Oh, really? If so, then don’t you think I’m a good girl?” She uttered breathlessly. 

“You are a good girl..” he whispered, lapping softly on her earlobe and planting marks on the left side of her neck. 

“Then I deserve a treat too. You’re not having my cake whole and full yet, if you don’t let me suck on your cinnamon candy cane.” She said and gave him an intense kiss as she unbuttoned his polo shirt. 

When they both got rid of it, it was Catelyn’s turn to scatter hickies on his thick and broad trunk. She licked on his abdominal lines before proceeding to his taut pants. Her teeth did the work of unlatching the pants to unleash his ferocious manhood.

Ned slightly lifted himself off the chair to assist her in bringing his garments down to his ankles. He erected, slid his pelvis to the edge of the chair and as he was more than ready for her. She seized on his knees and offered more sweet and light licks to his thighs. 

“Cat.. please…”

He felt himself become weaker, as her tongue progressed higher to his inguinal then his scrotum. She wetted his testicles and satisfied his shaft with a generous, brisk hand job. 

“Oh gods, Cat…Catelyn..” he groaned, which turned her more savage as she completely took one gumball in her mouth as she vigorously milked along his length. 

He let out more groans as his seed spurt out and she carried on to sup the other one. He surrendered to her torture, his mind concentrating on multiple sensations.  

She strewed his white chocolate frosting along his lower abdomen and around his naughty bits. After that, she devoured him and her tongue whipped up his glace stick from root to tip and round about. Her head bobbed up and down as she blew him hard and swallowed on his end that was muffling at the entry of her throat. He came for the second time inside her mouth, and she quickly drank from it. 

Catelyn did not have any more patience. She rose up from her kneeling position to straddle him  and take him inside her, nice and slick. She gripped on the sides of the recliner and he slightly extended his hips further toward the edge of the chair such that it would make it easier and more stable for her to move up and down on him. 

She rocked on him to and fro, to let his sturdy shaft massage the front and back of her walls, splitting her apart. 

“Ohh Ned..you feel so good inside me.. how could I ever live without this? OH, OOH, OOOOH” she moaned as she increased the speed and started hopping. 

“Fuuck!.. Aaahhhh..Aahh.AAH..Ned, Help me!” She screamed and he clawed on the crests of her hips to assist her. 

“Fuck, oh fuck, That’s right, babe…” She kept going on and on and even when she could almost not tolerate it, she still pushed herself further, desperate to arrive at that peak she hoped to reach. Ned grew more concerned for her wellbeing and so she stopped her for a moment to prevent the possibility of her dying from a heart attack. 

“Why are you..” she wondered. But before she could respond angrily, he lifted her and strongly stood up from the chair. 

She understood that he wanted to transfer to another spot as he carried her and walked toward the long couch. He did his best to lay her down gently and as soon as her back touched its softness, she wrapped him with her legs. 

He did not make any thrust yet as he showered her face and neck with more kisses. He grabbed her jaw to bring her mouth to his and kept kissing her intensely to elicit the music of her erotic noises. 

She cupped his jaw and pushed his face away from her, to let him know of her frustration. 

“Please, Ned. Ram me now. Don’t delay this any longer.” She said with a growl. 

He obeyed readily, one hand grasping at her low back and the other hand holding her knee against the edge of the sofa’s backrest to spread her wider. He shoved inside her repeatedly and brought them back to the right rhythm. 

“Keep going, Ned. Come at me...Come deeper….FASTER... Ooohh…Ooohh, Oh Come on! Almost there!” 

He exerted greater force at her blaring commands until they came to a finish. He splashed his seed inside her and she felt the flow of it warming her splendidly. 

“Aaaahhhh….that…was so great..” she said softly and breathlessly as he collapsed on her chest. 

Their minds were filled with a bliss that exhibited itself as flashes of white stars behind their eyelids. Ned nearly fell off the couch, as he softened inside her and his entire body went weak. Catelyn tried to prevent his fall by embracing him with her limbs. He was heavier and it was a bit difficult to keep him in place as their bodies were now slippery with their sweat and she began to feel the ache. He slowly slipped out of her, releasing more love juices that dispersed all over. 

When they regained their relaxed breathing, they laid on their sides and fit themselves in the depth of their sofa. His legs intertwined with hers and his arms held her tighter. He then combed the strands of her damp hair away from her delicate cheekbones, watching her smile at him as she touched his hand.  

They were quiet for some time, their hands caressing each other’s skins. The downpour had ended, the night was still but neither of them could find sleep, despite how exhausted they were from their lovemaking. 

“It’s almost the end of the year…Our birthdays have passed and winter is coming..” she said as she drew circles on his beefy pecs. 

“It has also been a long time since we last travelled together, with just the two of us..” she added. 

“Where do you want to go?” Ned asked her. Her suggestion delighted him, knowing how they have always been so focused on their work & family and how that sometimes led them to disregard each other. Ned realized that even when they go to work together every day, even when they go home to raise their kids together, he always misses her. He was mostly the one who called her attention, to remind her that they need to allocate time for a romantic dinner date or a two-day vacation. 

“We’ve explored all of Britain, we went to Venice & Paris twice, once in Rome, Spain and Monaco.” She reminisced about these vacations they had with the children. She remembered how excited Sansa & Arya were to witness the Paris Fashion week, with Robb & Jon telling her of their plan to go on their separate path after the family bonding. They have arranged their trip to the French Alps and prepared their mountain bike gears for its famous tough trails. Bran & Rickon were the laidback ones who were only excited about the art, music & food of that particular place. 

“Don’t you miss Amsterdam? We’ve also been there once but I want to go back there. You loved the flowers there.” Ned said. Memories floated inside his head, of him freely picking flowers, the grateful smiles he earned from his daughters when he gave them each a bouquet of tulips with their favorite colors and Cat’s laughter when small butterflies fluttered around her and landed atop the disk florets of her sunflowers. 

“Well, I do. Perhaps we can include that in our travel plans for December. Someone told me the Amsterdam Light Festival is a sensational sight to behold.” she replied. 

“We should spend the New Year there, since the kids most likely have their own celebration plans.” Ned thought. 

“It would be the first New Year without all of them. We’ll just anticipate visits from them from now on.” she said with a slightly sad tone. The rooms of her Stark pups were half empty; a vacant bed completely covered with a clean sheet, no trace of their clothes in their cabinets, just a few old books, discarded items and ornaments.

”We’re entering a new phase in life. But there’s nothing for you to worry about, because I’m always here for you and we’ll do fun things together. Well try a new range of pursuits but we’ll also get back to those habits we have abandoned.. like jogging in the park.. and what else?” he gazed at her, musing.

“Reading me a bedtime story, running around, playing childish games.. those small things.. Oh! and journaling!…I think I want to do that again.. It’s been so many years since my last journal. You are the only person who inspired me to get into it. Writing down our thoughts, feelings and experiences, pasting photo collages on the pages, recording family moments and keeping an archive of videotapes and exchanging letters. We did most of that in the 80s & 90s then we slowly stopped doing them starting in the early 2000s.” she said. 

“Then we expanded our factories, grew our business...we’ve faced so many challenges over the decade....”

“And yet here we are, my love. We survived all that.” she finished his sentence for him as she stroked the side of his pretty face. 

“Yes, we did and we’ll conquer a lot more.”

“That’s how we do it, becoming stronger and better together in acts and in words. As for the words, I know we never forget to reciprocate kind and sweet messages but I think I’ve never told you this...Thank you for spending this lifetime with me, Ned.” she said with an indescribable gladness in her heart. She was grateful to God that Eddard Stark was her partner, whom she shared all her undertakings with. 

“And I’m grateful that you are my woman. The woman who celebrates my victories with me, continues to motivate me whenever I fail and hinders me when I’m about to make a mistake. I thank you too, for never giving up on me. I love you very much, Cat.” 

He moved on top of her when he told her he loved her and kissed her gently. She intensified the kiss and they stayed that way until dawn. 

They set their oral sex to a sedated pace. Her hand was kneading on the back of his head while the other was fondling his genitals, teasing him to enter inside her once again. But he knew better and instead of aggravating her ache, he moved down to play with her breasts and tickle her belly and groin with his tongue. 

“I almost left this cake untouched.” he said as he bent her knee and brought it to her chest to open her strawberry slice. 

“Then eat it all.” she stared at him with a teasing smirk. 

 His nose poked at her nub, as his tongue moistened and flipped the flaps of her labia. She arched her spine and pushed herself against his diligent mouth. Sunlight perfused the room, reminding her that it was Sunday morning and they have the whole day to themselves. 

“Some more, Ned.. Please...Oh Please.. Do it some more.. you know how I like it..” she whined as her fingers latched onto his hair. 

The tip of his tongue attacked the lower end of her opening, going up and down unevenly and rapidly then proceeding to an incessant circular motion around her sugared berry. 

“Eddard...Oh...Daddy..” in her orgasm, she uttered a nasty word she actually did not like referring to her husband. But he loved it and it made him wilder, his mouth demolishing her like a famined animal and his three long digits havocking her canal.  

 She wailed, uproarious, as her entire body was trembling and losing control. He was relishing her piece of fruity cake, its gratifying serving just as large as a full English Breakfast. He consumed every ounce of it and he did not stop until she hit another height of ecstasy. 

“EDDARD!!” she screamed and squirmed.

He pulled his face off her muff, looking at how wrecked she totally is. He crawled up to her and kissed her forehead. 

She opened her eyes saying, “Why don’t we do some yoga exercises on the balcony and have a movie marathon after lunch in the attic theater room?” 

“Sure, anything for you. But why yoga on the balcony? Why don’t we do some in the shower? We should be taking a bath by now.” he said as he nuzzled her nose against hers.

“I want some cold shower, not hot and I literally mean Hatha yoga, Ned. I’ll teach you some beginner poses and proper breathing.”

“Oh, sorry if my thoughts were wrong..” 

“Don’t be. Our brain cells share an entity called shamelessness. I have some sensual shower ideas to whisper and show you. But you have to reward and treat me with a heavy breakfast.”

“Of course, I’ll be the one to prepare it. Parmesan asparagus & poached eggs, vegan banana pancakes, avocado toast. Today is a new day to be healthy, right?”  

“Yes it is, darling.”

“So what are you waiting for? Let’s take a shower.”

 He snatched her hand and they were giggling as they ran naked upstairs to their bedroom. Their kids no longer lived with them permanently but still they were very happy, as they were constantly growing together through their midlife’s journey.

[sweeethinny]

@greyashowl asked for the prompt #2 “This is definitely not my most attractive moment, but I promise I really am fit.” but it couldn't be Ginny saying, so, here it is :) thanks for sending, it was fun this <3 

PROMPT LIST 

--------

“This is definitely not my most attractive moment, but I promise I really am fit.” Harry gasped as soon as he reached her, hands on his knees as he pulled in the air briefly ''You are definitely better than me but ... I will make it'' She laughed, tapping his shoulder and biting her lips, almost feeling sorry for him

''I'm sure yes''

A few weeks ago ..

Ginny was returning from the gym when she ran into him, her neighbor next door who had a godson so cute that she almost never held on and ended up lightly squeezing his chubby, pink cheeks, in addition to the caramel cat that lived walking around the building, across his pose and class, showing off the new collars he got every week and always stopping to win the affection of a resident.

The neighbor was also not bad, there were tattoos on his arms, calves and chest (she thought, since the beginning of one always appeared when he wore a T-shirt), his green eyes were the color of living grass, his hair was always messy but it still wasn't ugly, and the round glasses made it look like it came out of the 1980s.

It was a beautiful view.

''Oh ... working out this hour?'' He asked, adjusting his glasses and as he adjusted the bags of food in his hands, Duke - the cat - passing between his legs, meowing loudly to Ginny before sitting down in the hall, licking his left paw as if he were part of the aristocracy, barely raising his dark eyes to her

''I need to keep in shape'' She said, bending down to caress the feline's soft fur, which dropped his paw and purred ''And it was the only time available''

''I see ... I would invite you to dinner but I don't think I have the proper food'' Harry looked into the bags themselves, but Ginny thought it was just a way to divert attention from the order he had made ''Bacon .. cheddar .. should have known better''

They had been flirting amicably since she took care of Duke while Harry traveled to his parents' house, he played a hint about needing to return the favor and she replied that he would have to be as kind as Duke if he wanted to sit on her couch. Ginny came home early from work and saw him talking to the doorman, so she joked about having to start trying harder to get his attention just like old Rick ... And so they went on, teasing each other slowly, as if neither of them very sure of what they was doing.

But Harry certainly did, because when Ginny moved there and he was still dating, she could hear the noises sometimes, and it wasn't just once she went to sleep feeling jealous of the other woman.

''I can accept bacon and cheddar if you work out with me one day'' She teased, thinking about how she would like to work out her thigh on him ''You know ... to test your stamina and all that'' Harry smiled, raising his dark eyebrows and seeming to think a little

''I'm a gym guy, you know, don't you?'' He said

''I've lived here for almost two years and I never saw you one day at the gym''

''I prefer to run outdoors'' Ginny figured it might be a lie, because as much as Harry always looked good, she had never really seen him in running clothes, just in suits or jeans .

''So we can do this'' she said ''You run with me, and then we have dinner together''

And that was how they ended up there, in the square near the apartment, running around the lake at a not too fast pace, while Ginny tried not to admire his ass in sweatpants too much.

' I thought you liked to run outdoors'' She said, taking her water and waiting for him

''And I like it'' A few years later, she would discover that it was a lie ''But do you do it ... every day?'' Ginny nodded ''I do it twice a week'' Harry said, returning to deep breath

"How can I trust a guy who can't take five laps in the lake?" His green eyes stared at her, as if it were a challenge

''Things work differently in other areas'' He started, and Ginny was tempted to look at the middle of his legs ''There are things that don't tire so much because they are good'' She prayed that he was talking about sex and not about cooking or something like that ''But I promised, so come on ... I can take as many rounds as you want’'

''Let's see, Potter'' She pushed on his shoulder, before running back at the same pace as before, without saying much, just making the path already delimited. She was anxious just to think about having dinner with him, because as much as they were almost on the fourth lap, Ginny was hungry for something else.

It had been almost two years of wanting him, sighing every time he helped her throw the garbage and his T-shirt went up slightly, or when she couldn't resist the temptation and faced his round and firm ass. After Harry had broken up, it was a feeling of happiness and sadness, the first was obvious, but the second boiled down to the fact that on some nights, after solitary glasses of wine, Ginny had fun thinking it was in that woman's shoes, being fucked against a wall and listening to him moan like that.

It was the first time she thanked for not have too thick walls. 

"You know, it's not as bad as it look" Harry said, after they finished the fifth lap, and rested under a tree. "My thighs look firmer."

''Seriously? I think I still need to work out mine better ...'' She replied, pretending to be natural while taking the rest of her water, barely noticing when his green eyes darkened and followed the drop of sweat that went down inside her shirt.

''So, do I get a date with you now? I did my part'' Harry said, clearing his throat, and Ginny looked at him curiously.

"Is it a date?" She asked, seeing him shrug

''If you want it to be'' He took a sip of his own water ''Um ... are you really hungry?''

''Starveling’' And Ginny wasn't just talking about the ratatouille he had promised to make ''What about you?'' She looked uninhibitedly at his lips, watching him lick them

''Also ..'' Harry spoke a little lower this time, approaching slowly, still taking turns looking between her eyes and her pink lips.

''It's the adrenaline'' She said, almost lower than him ''She lets us up'' And in an impulsive courage, she approached and captured his lips, perhaps too excited for a first kiss - and in public - but who could judge her? Harry reciprocated, holding the back of her neck to hold it in place while he devoured her. "I still want my ratatouille," she said, in the middle of the kiss, just because she felt her stomach start to complain. He laughed, pulling away and keeping his eyes closed for a few seconds

''Okay, I have a good idea about dessert’’

[serasvictoria]

Hoya kerrii

So me and @basilone have a shared headcanon that Chuck loves gardening and somewhere in between that and me watching a couple of episodes of Gardener's World that I had DVR'ed, I somehow ended up with another AU.

In this one Chuck basically ended up with a tv show at one point or another and since Tab is his publicist, I'd like to think that he played a very active role in making that happen. While Chuck is out in a garden center one day, he runs into someone that has no idea who he is and that needs his help making a particularly tough decision which is where this particular story starts.

“How do I improve my soil?”

“When should I plant out my tomatoes?”

“How do you prune your roses?”

“What flowers work best in a shaded garden?”

Chuck kept smiling and politely answered every single question that he got. He had long since learned that it was the best way to treat the attention that he inevitably got. All that people wanted was advice and sometimes a picture or an autograph, that was about it. As long as he made sure that everyone got an equal amount of time, they would simply fan out and leave him be. Sure, he’d still get stares and the occasional “Isn’t that…?” but people generally left him alone after a while.

It took about ten minutes for the small crowd to disperse. In the end the only one left was a very animated older lady who was very eager to talk to him. She spoke an equal amount about how she applied his advice to her garden and about her single granddaughter who was apparently around his age. He didn’t inquire any further about the latter. He’d heard that kind of thing many times before and ignoring those kinds of offers always worked for the best. At the start of his career, he hadn’t wanted to be impolite so he had ended up with many hastily scribbled phone numbers that he never did anything with. It was all far too embarrassing if you asked him. When he hadn’t commented on the granddaughter even after he had been shown her picture (cute, but not his type), the woman eventually took the hint, thanked him for his time and left him to his own devices.

He walked towards the plants, which had been his main objective after all, and checked out what they had on offer. He needed new ideas so he was on the lookout for something that he could write or talk about. New trends such as colours or decor, that sort of thing. And then there were the continuing improvements to his own outdoor space. Whenever he walked through his garden in the early morning hours, he usually managed to find some tiny little corner that he wasn’t completely satisfied with or plants that simply hadn’t thrived. There was always some kind of project to keep him occupied, which was exactly how he liked it.

From the corner of his eye he could see that a young woman was looking at him and he was already mentally preparing himself for questions about which plants would compliment each other or which seeds worked best in which soil. The usual. It took her another minute to finally approach him and he produced the most friendly smile that he could muster, but when she finally opened her mouth, he realised that she hadn’t recognised him at all.

“Excuse me,” she began and the first thing that he noticed was her pink sparkly lipgloss when she talked. “Can you help me?”

“Um.” Oh. She thinks I work here. “Sure thing. What do you need help with?”

“I’m a bit out of my depth I’m afraid.” She smiled apologetically as her eyes darted from plant to plant. “I don’t know anything about plants.”

“Well, you’ve asked the right person.” He couldn’t help but smile at himself over that particular comment. “Garden? Balcony?”

“Apartment.”

“Flowers or green?”

“Green.”

“See? We’re getting somewhere.” She started laughing and didn’t look quite so nervous anymore. “Follow me.”

When they walked over to the section where the green house plants were, he took another chance to look at her. Her dark hair was short and messy and he couldn’t quite figure out whether the messiness was accidental or intentional. She was wearing a denim jacket that was emblazoned with various pins (the one that instantly stood out was one that said “send nudes”). Her jeans stood out because of the various flecks of paint on them, same as the Converse sneakers that she wore. Her tote bag declared that “art makes everything awesome” and that, paired with the paint, made it pretty obvious what she did when she wasn’t hanging around in gardening centers. Another thing that he noticed was that every time that she took a sip of her water bottle, he caught glimpses of her stomach, because her faded black shirt kept riding up.

“I take it you want something that’s easy to look after?”

“Yes. The last plant that I had was a cactus when I was a teenager,” she cringed visibly, so whatever was going to come next probably wasn’t good. “I thought it was doing really well. Flowered and everything. And then one day when I tried to move it, the top just snapped off.”

“Snapped off?”

“Yeah. I don’t know what happened.”

“Probably overwatered it.” It was a very common problem. People either gave a cactus too much water or not enough water. “So no cactus this time.”

“Oh god no. The cactus incident has left me traumatised.”

“Nightmares?” She started giggling. “About cacti hunting you down to avenge their fallen friend?”

“Something like that.”

“I hate it when that happens.” He nudged his elbow against her arm in a gesture that was probably a bit too familiar, but she didn’t comment on it. He merely got a smile in return. “Wasn’t your fault. To put it simply, you just loved that plant to death.”

“That’s one way of looking at it.”

“Sadly, they haven’t invented a plant that can’t be killed yet and if they did, they certainly haven’t told me about it,” he said as he pointed out a few plants to her. “But these don’t need a lot of water so maybe they’re your best bet.”

“Which one would you go for?”

“Hmm. Rubber plants are nice,” he pointed one out to her, “But they can get quite big and I don’t know how big your apartment is.”

“I don’t really fancy ending up with something that’s as massive as a giant redwood tree.”

“And what if I were to guarantee you that they won’t get that big when they’re houseplants?”

“You’ve already put me off them now. You could just be trying to sell me a plant that gets massive just because I know jackshit about them.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” he replied with a laugh. “That would just be cruel.”

“But I don’t know that, do I?”

“Okay, okay. Fair enough.” His eyes fell on a snake plant. “Any pets?”

“A cat.”

“Me too,” he said cheerily. “So no snake plant then.”

“Will it constrict the cat?”

“Not that kind of plant. They’re toxic to dogs and cats.”

“What about that one?” His eyes followed her finger to a small rather unassuming plant. “It’s cute.”

“Hoya Kerrii.” He picked one up and held it up in front of her. “Sweetheart plant. Some people give them to loved ones at Valentines and paint messages on them.”

“Tacky,” she wrinkled her nose at that particular piece of information, obviously not agreeing with that at all. “It’s adorable. Is that one easy to take care of?”

“Very. It likes the sunshine and you water it when the soil goes dry, but don’t let it stand in water. They don’t like that.”

“Sounds like my kind of plant.” He could hear the excitement in her voice. “Which one would you buy?”

“Let me see.”

He looked at the various plants and tried to pick out the one that looked best in his opinion. He felt her eyes on him which made him want to try harder for some reason, already wanting to impress her even if he barely knew her. When he had finally selected one, he picked it up and upon turning to hand it to her, he noticed that she was looking at something else entirely. When he followed her eyes, he saw that she was looking at a genuine store employee. They were quite easy to spot because of their green and yellow uniforms and their big name tags which were quite noticeable. So she’d finally figured it out. When he looked back at her, he noticed that her eyes were focused on his chest and his missing name tag. Her cheeks flushed pink when she noticed that his eyes were on her, because he had quite obviously seen that she had been looking straight at his chest.

“You…” Her voice was hushed and the embarrassment was quite plain to see on her face. “You don’t work here.”

“No.” He leaned in somewhat conspiratorially and with a low voice added, “I don’t.”

Before he got a chance to make light of the situation, to say that he didn’t mind that she had mistaken him for a store employee and that he had genuinely enjoyed helping her. The plan had been that when the slight uneasiness from her side had ended, he could offer to buy her a drink or something like that. That had been the idea anyway right before he heard a voice behind him.

“Jesus Christ. We’re supposed to be here for work and you’re using it to hit on women.”

“Tab.” He straightened himself out and turned to face his friend, his entire expression spelling out that he was busy, but that wasn’t going to deter Tab one bit. “I was helping this young lady out…”

“Sure you were. You like helping the ladies, don’t you Chuck?” Tab flashed the absolutely bewildered woman one of his winning smiles. “Can’t help yourself. So just ask her for her number and then we can go.”

“Fuck, Tab. Really?” Chuck turned back to her with an apologetic look on his face. So now she probably thought that he came to places like this just so he could pick up women. Great. “I’m so sorry about my friend. He’s being a complete dick as usual. Literally can’t help himself.”

“I um… I won’t interrupt you any further. Sorry to bother you.” She turned to leave and he cleared his throat which made her turn her head back in his direction. “Yes?”

“You forgot this.” He held out the plant, that she had seemingly forgotten in her eagerness to get away from him. “Hope it does well with you, but I have no doubt that it will.”

“Thanks for reminding me.” She took it from him and added a quick, “Would have been a shame if I forgot all about this little guy.” There was something almost reverential in how she handled the plant, as if it were to die on her if she didn’t treat it with respect which Chuck found incredibly endearing. “Little thing,” she murmured those words exclusively to the plant with a smile, but Chuck was standing so close that he could hear everything. “You’re coming home with me.”

“Miss?” He had to ask this now before she left. “You know, maybe I should give you my number so you can send me some pictures.” He moved to stand in front of Tab, completely blocking him out of her line of vision. Because he knew Tab. He’d probably pull a face or make some choice remarks about seeing this scene play out right in front of him. “Of the plant. Obviously.” To his relief, she instantly reached a hand into her pocket and produced her mobile. “Great!” He mentally slapped himself for sounding a little bit too enthusiastic and he knew that Tab would never let him forget about this. “I mean… I’ll just…”

He grabbed his phone as well and they exchanged numbers, tapping them into their devices as the other called out the digits. She looked up at him, a bit unsure over the next question that she was going to ask and said, “What should I… I mean, your name…”

Tab laughed and Chuck could see the confusion lining her face when she looked around him so she could look at Tab. His friend pointed towards the wall. When she noticed what was hanging there, her cheeks turned about as red as a tomato, because there was an advertisement on the wall for Chuck's latest book that was pretty hard not to miss. Chuck ran his hand down his face and groaned inwardly when he saw the poster with himself on it staring right back at him.

“Oh fuck.” She tapped on her screen again and it took her a few times to spell his name right since she was so nervous. “I swear I didn’t know that you were famous or anything…”

“It’s okay. Not like I’m Tom Hanks or anything.”

“You might as well be to people that are into gardening.” She’d obviously noticed the “best selling author” bit on the poster.

“I guess,” he said with a shrug. “And you? What should I call you? It would be a bit weird if I listed you as ‘sweetheart plant girl’, right?”

“Cat,” she blurted out suddenly. “My name’s Cat.”

“Chuck.” He held his free hand out to her when she had put her phone away. “Pleased to meet you.”

“You too.” Cat took his hand and hazarded a glance back up at his face with a slight smile playing on her lips. “I um… it sounded like you were busy, so I’ll leave you to it.”

“Not that busy. My friend’s just being an asshole.” He heard Tab huff in protest, but he wasn’t going to acknowledge his presence just yet. Upon looking down, he only seemed to realise that he was still holding her hand when she gave him a slight squeeze. In a move that was probably entirely alien for most men but one that made perfect sense to him, he dipped his head down, brought her hand up to his lips and kissed her knuckles. Looking up at her through his eyelashes, he said, “You have a very nice day, Cat.”

“I’m sure I will,” she replied with a slightly nervous giggle. “Bye.”

She was barely even out of hearing range before Tab said, “You just can’t help yourself.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“I’ll have you know that I wasn’t chatting up women for once.” Chuck snorted derisively in reply. “It’s true! Anyway, she’s your type so I get it.”

“No, she isn’t.” Tab barked a laugh and Chuck turned around to look at him. “Oh come on. Since you’re such an expert, what’s my type?”

“You know,” his friend waved his hand in front of him as if that explained anything. “Vaguely artsy.”

“Artsy? That’s not a thing!”

“Yeah, it is. It’s your thing, that’s what it is.” Chuck took a swipe at him and Tab stepped back, just out of his reach. “Okay, alternative then.” “Since when?”

“Since college! As long as they wore shirts of vague bands, you were into them. And need I remind you that you dated that goth chick.”

For as long as Chuck could remember Tab had teased him about his preferences in women. Chuck was widely considered to have a very positive and sunny personality so whenever he introduced his latest girlfriend, who was usually dressed head to toe in black, people were always understandably taken aback.

“She was not a goth.”

“Chuck, her eyes were so black, she looked like a fucking raccoon.” Chuck rolled his eyes even though he couldn’t deny it. “I had to listen to her ramble on and on about how she was convinced that Robert Smith was God every time that she was stoned. She was awful.”

“She was alright.”

“Whatever. I’m pretty sure that you only liked her because of those tight leather pants she always wore and because her bottom lip was pierced. I know you. You were probably wondering if she had more of those on parts of her body that you couldn’t see.” Chuck shook his head with a laugh. It had definitely been one of the reasons why he was interested in her. “And you never told me if she had any other ones.”

“A gentleman never tells.”

“Fuck off.” Tab jerked his head towards the exit and patted the breast pocket of his dark blue button down shirt, indicating that he needed a smoke. “You’re a naughty boy, Chuck. If only those bored suburban housewives knew about that.”

“I’m not that bad.”

“Don’t you bullshit me. I just caught you putting the moves on some poor unsuspecting woman.” Tab knocked his shoulder against Chuck’s. “Maybe you should send her one of those pictures I keep posting on your Instagram.”

“One of those… what do you call them again?”

“Thirst traps.”

“Yeah, those. Ridiculous things.” Tab always took pictures when Chuck wasn’t looking. When he’d just wiped a dirt caked hand on his shirt or something like that, because apparently that was what women wanted to see. “Just ‘cause you send pictures to women with your shirt off doesn’t mean I have to.”

“They work a fucking charm. I’m just saying.” Several eyes were on them as they finally made their way outside with Tab leaning into a group of young women to whisper “Yes, it is him” which made some of them squeal with delight.

“Wish you’d stop doing that.”

“Fuck you. Helps sell the brand.”

“Just me walking by helps sell stuff?”

“DVDs, books, calendars, gardening tools… you name it, baby, and I’ll fucking sell it. It’s what you hired me for, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah, I remember. Don’t make me regret my stupid decisions now.”

“Whatever.” When they’d reached Tab’s car, he leaned against it while he smoked his cigarette. “You do what you love. What could be better than that? So what if I post a couple of pictures of your big dumb face when you’re repotting a plant. Chicks love that shit. Millions of ‘em follow you on Instagram for that crap.”

“Yeah well, I can still think that it’s weird, right?” Chuck dropped what remained of his cigarette on the tarmac and ground his boot down on it. “Besides, she had absolutely no fucking idea who the hell I was. It was refreshing.”

“I’m sure it was.” Tab flicked his cigarette away, unlocked the car and got in. “All those women throwing themselves at you and trying to fuck you all the time. Must be exhausting.”

“You’re exhausting,” Chuck retorted when he got in on the passenger side. “It’s not like I have a different girl in my bed every night. I’m not like you.”

“Trust me, I am well aware of that.” He pulled the car out of the parking lot and headed back to Chuck’s place so they could get back to work. “So. When are you going to send this girl a text then?”

“Don’t know yet.” Chuck didn’t really know what was acceptable in regards to that. He didn’t want to do it too soon and he didn’t want to wait too long either. “Tomorrow?”

“Yeah right. You’ll send her a text the minute I’m not looking.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

“You almost jumped through the damn roof when she agreed to exchange numbers with you.” Before Chuck got a chance to disagree with that statement, Tab poked a finger into his side. “Sometimes I get the impression that you never talk to women at all. You need to play hard to get, dude. Not act like an overexcited puppy. Which is basically what you are anyway. A goddamn labrador.”

“The fuck! Am not.” Chuck knocked Tab’s finger away and laughed. “Just because you’re a silver tongued bastard doesn’t mean I have to be.”

“Do me a favour. If this girl doesn’t text you first, wait until tomorrow evening or something. Please. For the love of god.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just shut up and keep driving.”

“Chuck, promise me.”

“Okay, dad! Jesus Christ. I promise.”

“Give it to me.” Tab held his hand out and Chuck sighed deeply before handing over his phone. “I’m hanging onto this, because I know you, Grant. You can’t fucking help yourself. You’ll be texting her within the hour to let her know what a great time you had or some dumb shit like that.”

“I just promised you that I wouldn’t do that.”

“Yeah and then as soon as we get to your house, you’ll tell me that you need a piss and then you’ll text her from the bathroom. Not fucking happening. Not on my watch.” He stuck the mobile in his pocket and wagged his finger at him. “And you’re not getting it back until I leave. Alright?”

“You’ve made your point.” Chuck folded his arms and stared out the window. “You do realise that I’m an adult, right?”

“You can’t be trusted. No self control.” Tab reached over and patted his shoulder. “It’s okay though. That’s why you have me.”

“Scariest part is that you’re supposed to work for me.”

“Which is what I’m doing now.”

“Taking my phone is your job now?”

“It is on this particular occasion,” he replied with a big grin. “Anway! We were there for work! Did you get any ideas or were you too busy staring into that girl’s big brown eyes?”

“I got plenty of ideas. Trust me.”

“Good. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner you can have your phone back. Deal?” Tab held his hand out to Chuck which he shook almost instantly. “See, I’m not such a bad guy after all now, am I?”

“You’re an asshole, Tab.”

“You know you love me.” They finally pulled into the driveway and when they walked up to the front door, he still felt the need to add, “So stop thinking about that girl’s ass and the things you’d like to do to it for five seconds and focus on your job.”

“Tab, I swear to god, if you don’t give it a rest…”

As soon as he opened the door, Tab slapped the back of Chuck’s head and before he managed to do anything back, Tab had already disappeared into the house. He fought the urge to tackle him and instead leisurely followed him in, fully determined by now to end this as soon as possible so he could get his damn phone back. He followed Tab out into the kitchen and naturally two bottles of beer had already been produced. Tab was just about to open them when Chuck heard a pinging noise that he recognised all too well.

“Give it to me.”

“Jesus Christ, you are desperate.” Tab dug the mobile out of his pocket and frowned when he looked down at the screen. “Fuck’s sake. This had better not be a picture of a goddamn plant.” He held the phone out to him and when Chuck reached for it, he pulled his hand away. “On second thought, I’d better look at the picture first. Wouldn’t want you to get a heart attack if she actually sent you a selfie of herself in her underwear.”

“Come on, man.”

Tab rolled his eyes and handed it back to him without paying him anymore attention. Chuck swiped his thumb over the screen and looked at what she’d sent him. It was a picture of the small plant standing on what he assumed was the windowsill surrounded by painting materials and other items. The accompanying message read “Too much sun?” and he couldn’t help but grin to himself when he saw it.

“You’re pathetic.”

“Fuck you.”

Chuck texted back a split second later with a “Not at all. Looks fine to me.” He waited about another minute before sending another quick “You free tomorrow?” He saw the tell tale sign that she was typing back not too long after and his face lit up when he saw what she had sent back.

“I am. What did you have in mind?”

[theflashdriver]

Trial by Flyer (A Silvaze AU)

The campus was dark and silent tonight, the wind wasn’t whistling through the trees and what little star and moonlight would have shone its way to her was being blocked out by a thick wall of clouds. Blaze the cat, age sixteen, shouldn’t have been out here at so late an hour. Midnight had just passed, the witching hour had arrived, and yet, this feline witch was supposed to be long in bed. Instead, where was she? Sat at the bottom step of the outdoor amphitheatre, fingers steepled and her right foot tapping uncontrollably as she awaited her best friend.

The Marble Garden School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was a place of learning only for the chosen few and, as such, there were many serious rules that were mandatory to abide by. There were a multitude of simple rules that, if broken, could result in a severe punishment of expulsion; girls weren’t supposed to enter the boys’ dormitories (and vice versa), you weren’t allowed to cast nefarious spells on other students, there were to be no paid additional studies and, the rule that Blaze was currently breaking, all students had to be in their respective dormitory buildings before eleven at night. Just being out here was making her anxious, quadrupling her heartrate and making even the most minor of sounds all the more terrifying.

Blaze was a good student, well… a mostly good student; a good student as much as she could control being a good student. While she rarely raised her hand in class, only answering questions when she was called upon, she listened diligently to her lecturers, studied all she’d learned thoroughly every night, shirked social and extracurricular opportunities and took additional time at the library whenever possible. She put in more effort than any other student she knew of, that wasn’t a matter of pride so much as a fact that her teachers wouldn’t stop reminding her of. Whenever she did well on a test or whenever they wanted to give an example of a good student, her name would quickly fall from their lips followed by a heaping of praise.

Yet, despite all the praise she received and how good of a student she was, here the feline sat; so casually breaking curfew. It was as if she was trying to be caught even, a heavy bag sat beside her and she was dressed in the garb that she’d chosen as her uniform- a tall hat with a golden buckle and belt adorned her head ita long sleeved purple dress that frilled out at the cuffs and hem covered her body only to be topped by a purple-leather mantle, a set of thick purple tights with golden swirls decorating them and a pair of high heeled boots to match. The only aspect of her dress that wasn’t purple and gold were her gloves, stark white evening gloves that reached deeply into her sleeves. If she was seen, for a plain an outfit she’d tried to pick (from a very limited list of options) she’d be recognised on sight; a fact that was making it all the harder to not just run back to her-

A voice suddenly assumed the entirety of her mind’s attention, not entering through her ears but jumping directly into her brain, “Blaze! I’m so sorry, I’m running a little late. The groundskeeper was cleaning a mess outside the boy’s dorms, I had to sneak out through the window. I won’t be much longer!”

Quickly, Blaze raised her pointer fingers to the air and set their tips alight. Intricately, methodically, she traced a pair of intricate and overlapping sigils in the air and closed her eyes. The moment they were completed, she brought those fingers to her temples and thought in the loudest voice possible, “Silver. It is okay, I am glad you were not caught. I am waiting at the agreed location, please come quickly. Did you remember your notebook?”

A moment passed but no reply came.

Her fingers left her temples and her eyes flickered open but the symbols she’d cast had already faded from the air. A sigh slipped from her mouth as she recrossed her legs and resumed waiting, uncertain that her message had left her, let alone reached its intended reciprocate. He wasn’t that late, and the boy’s dormitories weren’t too far from the amphitheatre, but every second spent out her left more chance that they’d be caught. The moment he arrived, they could achieve the motive of their rule-breaking and quickly sneak back to their respective rooms.

Oh, who was she kidding; this wasn’t going to go nearly as quickly as she hoped.

It was as she had that thought that a twinkling of light, like a small cluster of stars had managed to split through the clouds, drew her attention. She looked up, frowning hard at the glow as she attempted to identify it; as it drew closer, she understood it to be the form she was awaiting. Silver the hedgehog, also age sixteen, was descending from the sky as though he was carried by a moonbeam; wrapped in cyan, psychic, light, his form was difficult but not impossible to distinguish. Before he arrived, the feline jumped to her feet and dusted herself off, quickly scanning their surroundings to make certain no one else had been watching them. He landed without a sound; standing next to her, still coated in energy, his height only just superseded hers due to the nature of his tall quills. If she wasn’t wearing heels of course, the different between them would be far clearer.

With the flaring of his fingers, the light faded from him but that new sight entirely perplexed Blaze. She’d noticed his lack of hat, thus being why she wasn’t presently taller than him, but not the lack of his other garb. Silver stood before her, dressed in a short-sleeved green t-shirt and a pair of baggy pyjama trousers.

“Silver,” She half whispered half grumbled, trying to keep her voice down but make it clear that she was perturbed, “Where are your robes, where is your notebook?”

His bright yellow eyes seemed to dance for a moment, looking to her before down to his own frame. As a realisation hit, his quills shot up straight and a hint of embarrassment overcame his muzzle, “Sorry, I forgot to drop the charm. I figured I’d be too bright if I tried to scout a path dressed normally, give me a moment.”

Like a chimneysweep dusting soot from his body, the symbols on his palms flaring, Silver began to pat himself down. With no more than those touches, he unearthed the outfit that he’d hidden- he wore open robes with flaring sleeves (cut with a keyhole window that exposed the upper portion of his chest fur), a set of baggy trousers and some thick boots with metal caps. That description made the outfit seem basic but, in truth, it was anything but that; head to toe, Silver glowed with a strange bioluminescence that matched the symbols on his hands. Scales and lines like mycelia flared additional light from seemingly random points on his person, forming jagged lines both across and up his visage. In some places it made sense, like on the buttons of his mantle and hemming his clothes, but in others it seemed nonsensical.

To conclude this transformation, he slicked his fingers through his quills and revealed what Blaze thought to be the most ludicrous cap worn by any student in this entire school. As if to compensate for the muting of his own overgrown quills, often having to be pulled back into a braid or ponytail, Silver’s choice of hat was so tall that its point had bent not three days beyond his arrival at this school. It was faintly glowing and cyan, alike the rest of his garb, but the underside of its large rim especially so. It looked as though his head was topped with a large, bioluminescent, mushroom cap with incredibly bright gills.

Reaching into his robes, he drew out his notebook and beamed at her, eyes still shining even while his hat tried its damnedest to obscure them, “There, is that better?”

Realising quite how intently she’d been staring at this magical display, Blaze quickly turned away and busied herself within her bag; though she’d thoroughly enjoyed the display, he was eating up their time. Under her breath, half hoping he didn’t hear, she murmured, “You’re so naïve.”

She pulled out her own notebook, flipping it open to her most recent writings. In a cursive, neat and elegant, font were two pages of heavily sourced notes pertaining to the history and practice of future prediction and other sorts of divination magic. She managed to walk beside him, still not looking to him, and show him the pages.

“These should help you start your essay, at the very least. All these books are available in the library but, if they’re taken out, I have my own copies that you can borrow,” She tapped one name in particular, “Look out for books and stories by and about her in particular, Amelia Rose. Her works are a lot older but, while I find them too flowery, they’re a very good source.”

She dared to throw a glance in his direction only to find him staring at the pages as if the several dozen names and notes were going in one of his ears and out the other. His words seemed to leave some kind of impact on him though as he managed to nod at them, “Amelia Rose, Amelia Rose, okay!” Blaze went to tear the two sheets free for him to slot into his own book, but a fumbling hand caught hers before he could, “Don’t worry about that, you need to write this essay too, right?” She looked to him incredulously only for him to start beaming again, “I learned a new spell, watch this!”

He shuffled his way just behind her, reaching around her shoulders. As if it was the most normal thing in the world, Silver plopped his notebook face town atop hers Almost immediately, Blaze felt her tail stiffen and bump against him as his arms came to rest atop his and his frame pushed so close to hers. Two of his fingers pushed against the back of both his pad’s covers and began to weave small circles. They traced from top left to right, gradually going along and down line after line after line. She watched as sparks of excess cyan energy, that which the book didn’t absorb, slipped from beneath his fingers and fluttered in the air before them. Quickly, the tenseness in her tail faded and she felt herself relax into his grasp, but she wasn’t thinking about that. She was simply enamoured by whatever it was he was doing.

So enamoured in fact that when he flipped his book in a single movement, uttering an overly pleased, “Tada!” It took Blaze a moment to come to her senses and realise what he’d done. Her words, her exact handwriting, had been copied onto the pages of his book. He’d learned this spell specifically so that she didn’t have to duplicate her notes for him, her notes could simply duplicate themselves.

“You’re so…” She went to reprimand for acting without explaining, for allowing his talent to swallow the entirety of her attention again, only to notice something comically foolish, “Your book was upside-down…”

“W-What? Oh, um…” He lifted it from hers, stepping out from behind her and squinting at the writing incredulously, “It’ll still work for studying though, right?”

“It should do,” She comforted him, but at the showing of his notebook a question rose to mind, “Did you get my message earlier?”

“Oh, yeah! You’re getting way better at telepathy Blaze,” He was smiling again, “You said it was ok and to come quickly, right?”

Ah, so the end of her message had been cut off. Her casting, even of that basic spell, was still far from perfect… unlike his.

While Blaze excelled at all things theoretical, she could easily write essay upon essay and was quick to learn that which she heard or could read, Silver was a master of practical magic. Without really understanding what he was doing, the hedgehog frequently found himself successfully casting spells on a whim and without particularly understanding their idiosyncrasies. To contrast this, despite putting in an equal amount of effort as her, Silver was especially bad at deskwork; he’d attempt to answer teacher’s questions and routinely be incorrect as well as, despite weeks of study, barely earn passing grades in written exams. Curiously enough, just as she mirrored his written ability, Blaze was lacking when it came to practical magical talent. When it came to offensive spells and fire magic, she was fairly adept at casting but anything beyond that seemed to be out of her reach. Telepathy was one of the first spells they’d been taught, and she still couldn’t transmit full thoughts, only brief fragments; abjuration, conjuration, transmutation and illusionary techniques, outside of only the most basic, were beyond her.

One would think that, for those reasons, the two wouldn’t get along but they’d formed a strong bond in their first year. It’d been very obvious to Blaze that the hedgehog was struggling, he wore his heart on his sleeve in such a blatant way, and she had taken some degree of pity on him. That pity had soon been corrupted by a mutual admiration of course, even during their first year (3 years ago) he’d shown such magnificent talent, and that admiration had forged the bonds of their friendship. They looked after each other, helped each other wherever possible and promised to come to the other for help… just as she had offered an exchange and asked him to break some rules tonight. She’d thought she’d have to beg but he’d agreed without hesitating.

“So, Friday’s test…” She led, knowing that day was only one more night away, “I know this is a little short notice, I thought I could maybe do this myself, but-

A pair of hands found hers, palm topped palm as her fingers held her tight.

“We help each other, Blaze. There’s nothing to worry about,” She caught his eye again and knew that he was being genuine, “Of course I’ll teach you to fly!”

Blaze’s gaze slipped from Silver. Her stomach was churning, it felt as though the world was spinning, the mere mention of that word and all it implied made her slightly sick. On Friday, they had their first real test of this semester- a flying obstacle course set up on the sports grounds, a small path that they had to complete. Even outside her difficulty casting a spell that would allow her to fly, Blaze had a rather significant fear of heights; when she’d arrived at her dorm room within the girl’s tower she’d almost panicked at the view from her window. For this reason, while other students had made the extracurricular effort to learn flight, Blaze had only just started to learn. She’d tried to find the right spell for her over the past few weeks, researching thoroughly, but none of them had worked with her specific type of magic.

“Alright, th-thank you Silver,” She managed to glance at him again, only to find that he’d leaned in closer, “What do you think the first step is?”

Silver’s hands slipped from hers, he fumbled with his chest fur in thought for a moment, “Well, it’s probably best to start at the beginning; you need to take off. From there, it’s just learning to control yourself; that gets way easier with practice!”

“Right, taking off…” She considered, still rather disgusted, “How would you recommend I do that? I don’t think your method will work for me.”

As if to exemplify why his method wouldn’t work, a gentle hue of cyan light overtook Silver’s frame and carried him into the air. He flipped to hover upside down, looking her in the eye as he sunk deeper into thought, “Probably not…” His eyes seemed to dance across her body, lingering on her hands before finishing at her feet, “I’ve been thinking about this for a while, you can make fire come from anywhere, right?”

With no more than a thought, Blaze allowed a pair of flaming plumes to emerge from her shoulders and dance in the windless night before having them vanish and growing a set of vague flame-wings, “Anywhere on my body, as much as I can muster.”

“Well…” He looked like what he was about to say was foolish, “What if you made yourself like a rocket? What if you shot fire from the bottom of your feet and pushed yourself into the air?”

It was, it was very foolish, “Silver, even if I could do that, it’d be incredibly unstable and almost impossible to balance. If my top half leaned over then I’d fly in just about any direction, I could race to the ground like a falling star.”

“I thought about that too!” He beamed, “What if you used your hands to make almost… stabilisers? Like what people put on a bike so they don’t fall over, only for flying.”

For as ridiculously as he’d phrased it, that was a fairly succinct counter to her issue. There was however a magnitude of issues still both swirling in her gut and with his plan, “Ok, but that presupposes that I can even make enough thrust to lift myself, Silver. I really doubt that I can…”

“Oh, have you tried before? Darn, I really thought it’d work…” He went back to thinking, almost seeming to scan her body again, but those words had made Blaze’s mind even more of a mess.

Her gaze broke from his and she hesitated again, looking at her hands and conjuring small flames. The rate with which flame emerged from her was something she could control but she’d never truly thought to, “Not really, no.”

“You haven’t? Can we try it then?” Her uncertainty must have been showing because he flitted back around, looking her in the eye, “I’ll stay right next to you, I won’t let you fall, I promise!”

She gulped, “Do you?” It was a question she already knew the answer to but worry was brewing in her gut.

“Of course, I’m here to help you, Blaze!” He insisted, preparing her arms as if she was already about to catch her, “I would never let you down.”

“Ok,” She took a deep breath, closing her eyes, “I’ll give it a shot…”

Blaze was rather unsure what to do with herself to become more aerodynamic, but she gave it her best. She pushed her heels together but kept her toes far apart, keeping her hands parallel but separate to her waist with her palms pointed towards the ground. Lighting a flame was easy, she had just done it with a thought, but producing a constant and controlled flame would be just a little bit harder. She focused her attention on the underside of her boots and centre of her palms, trying to pool all of her arcana evenly over those four spots.

A thought dawned upon her, “Should I I just let it go or should I jump and do it from the air?”

“T-Try just letting it go,” Silver’s voice cut through her focus, “It looks like you’re doing rea-

A single lapse in her concentration was all it took. As Blaze was trying to focus on his words, the seal keeping her flames from spilling free lapsed. A thunderous force, larger than any Blaze had tried to conjure before, burst from all of four of her extremities with an unrelenting roar and launched her straight up into the air. The moment she opened her eyes, Blaze was met with cloud but soon they passed and cracked to reveal an unending array of stars dancing around the moon. For a single moment, as her eyes lingered on the shining crescent above, she felt joy; she’d done what she thought impossible, she’d successfully taken off… but she was still soaring.

There was no ceiling to stop her and, much more terrifyingly, no safety net beneath her. She’d shot off without warning, she had no idea how fast she’d flown or what kind of noise she was making. It was possible she’d woken up the whole campus, it was probable that one of the nightguards had noticed! She was going to get them in so much trouble! As she glanced around herself in an attempt to find Silver, she forgot how important the positioning of her palms was and sent herself into an upwards corkscrew. Now spiralling, her hat having long fallen from her head, Blaze fought to regain control but soon found herself spinning on more than one axis.

Her focus and control waned, the fire at her limb’s ends snuffed and soon she reached the apex of her ascent. For the briefest of moments, she felt weightless, having tumbled up to mingle with the stars, but she very quickly found herself plummeting. With the wind rushing around her frame, Blaze couldn’t relight her form and, even if she could, her feet and hands were in such wrong positions.

She started to scream, the sound had just begun to leave her lips, when something soft found her back and hooked around the underside of her legs. She couldn’t have fallen for half a metre before that gentle touch had found her and brought them both to a standstill in the air. Lit by the moon more than his powers; Silver’s smile was huge and his eyes sparkled down at her. She’d landed in his arms; he was holding her back and beneath her legs, clutching her close to his body in an attempt to secure her. His face, his smile, it was all so close; she couldn’t recall anyone else ever looking at her like this, especially not after she failed.

“Are you alright? Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” He insisted, but before she could say a word his smile almost tripled, “You did it Blaze! You flew!”

“I-It was more like I exploded! Don’t be so naïve!” She tore her gaze from him only to be confronted by their current height. Despite her blush and false-fury, Blaze was forced to meet his gaze, “Don’t act like that was a success!”

“What’re you talking about, you took off!” He sounded so excited, “You managed to learn that so quickly, I was sure it’d be the hardest part, the rest should be a cinch!”

She felt him shift just a little, something popped into the corner of her vision; a certain black hat that’d been lost in her flight. Snatching it, simultaneously gripping him tight with her remaining arm, she used the garment to hide her face, “Stop being so naïve…it’s not going to be that easy.”

A brief silence overcame them and Blaze found herself shrinking further into her hat and, almost by mistake, deeper into his arms. Over the past handful of months, Blaze had been catching herself in these positions more and more often; every single time she had only herself to blame, though she’d usually berate him for his part in them. They’d be studying in the library, sitting side by side as they read, and her head would just so happen to find comfort on his shoulder, or they’d be walking across campus and she’d, eventually, notice that their fingers had intertwined. Prior to this year, Blaze hadn’t thought much of these occurrences, they’d just sort of happened, but idle gossip, fresh from the girl’s common room, had made her far more aware of these things.

Silver’s talent hadn’t gone unnoticed by their lecturers or, as Blaze had come to learn, their classmates. The bizarre bubbling sickness that Blaze had experienced when another student had expressed interest in the hedgehog and pried about their relationship was unlike anything she’d felt prior. Though she’d wanted to deny the rumour, she’d found herself entirely unable to.

Hesitantly, she flicked up the brim of her hat for a small glance at him. Despite her prior rudeness, he looked entirely unphased; the wizard in training was simply looking up at the sky and smiling, taking in the stars. The way the night-light seemed to colour his fur, let alone the expression it managed to put on his face, was just a little dazzling. It’d taken her a while to really understand it, but there was something rather… aesthetically pleasing about his form. Nothing she ever planned to admit aloud of course, especially not to him, but after that girl had mentioned it, the changes he’d undergone over the years and the way his eyes sparkled did make for a rather pleasing visage (even despite his silly robes).

Realising that she’d been thinking for much too long and noticing him turning back in her direction, Blaze quickly made a demand, “I want to try again.”

“Whenever you’re ready, I’m ready,” He affirmed, still smiling as his gaze returned to her, “You can stand on my feet if you want. That way you’d be up straight, it might help you get used to this.”

“It means I’ll be free of this embarrassing position, I’m willing to try anything,” She huffed but, moments later, caught herself and realised what she’d said. He was trying his best to help her, he probably didn’t even think this was embarrassing, “You’ll still… hold me, won’t you?”

“I won’t let go until you tell me too, I promise,” The hedgehog pledged.

She shifted in his grasp, clinging tightly to his shoulders, and, ever so gently, he slipped his hold from her legs. It took a little bit of fumbling but, eventually, she managed to perch herself on the tips of his boots. Despite how painful it’d surely be if they were on the ground, this change of position didn’t seem to bring him any discomfort as he glided his remaining free hand around her back.

The young witch peered over his shoulder and her gaze fell upon the thick cloud barrier beneath them. Up here, no lecturers or other students could see them; they were alone with the night’s celestial bodies. Though being above the clouds did frighten her, the fact that they couldn’t see the ground was making things a lot easier. She knew that Silver wouldn’t let her fall, she believed in his abilities, but having that a fluffy-fake ground beneath them was doing her a world of good. Gradually, she managed to shift some of the tension from her shoulders and hold him in a less life-or-death manner.

He seemed to notice the shift, “Alright, maybe you should start with your feet? That way we can keep holding each other.”

That made sense but, truth be told, letting go seemed a little easier than stepping off and into the abyss, “One foot at a time?” She hesitantly suggested.

“Try to use just enough energy to lift you but not to change how high you fly,” Silver recommended, “Once you’ve figured that out once, you should understand how it feels and be able to do it again.”

Blaze heaved a shallow breath and closed her eyes, “Okay… okay…”

She leant back just a little, allowing her left foot to depart from his frame. It took no more than a thought for her to produce a small flame but that would not provide enough thrust to keep her afloat. Slowly, gradually applying more power to her newfound thruster, Blaze felt precarious half of her body begin to shit up and away from the anchored half. Working down and up in smaller and smaller increments, she sought equilibrium for what must have been minutes before finally finding something close to it. She focused on the feeling of flames flowing freely from her heel, their exact measure and rate as well as the small pressure being put upon her knee and the greater one on the arch of her foot.

Once she’d held it for a few moments, she dared to open her eyes and look to Silver, “I think it’s time for the right one. Could you…” She hated the only way that she could think to phrase this, “Hold me a little tighter.”

Silver, without even hesitating, moved his hands to grasp the robes above her shoulder blades. The look in his eyes reinforced his prior promise and gave her all the motivation she needed. Her right foot left his boot and, though the shift in weight made her dip just a little, with its ignition, it was easy to make it match her left. Blaze found herself to be hovering, hanging in the sky by her own accord.

When she managed to tear her eyes from her boots, she found that his smile had tripled in size, “You’re doing it Blaze!”

“Sh-Shush,” She hissed, feeling herself grow redder as more flames sputtered from her soles, “I’m trying to concentrate.”

The feline took a moment; shifting the ball of her foot seemed to allow for a degree of dexterity on her part- if she angled her shoe correctly then the flames would correspond and allow her to drift. Slowly, gradually, Blaze managed to bring herself to circle the hedgehog and bring him to spin on the spot. Every time she dared to glance at him, she found an even greater look of amazement on his face. Eventually, finally, she decided to halt her practice.

“I think I’m ready,” She decided.

Silver simply nodded and, clearly trying not to disturb her, released the tension at his fingertips but did not shift his hands; he left that final move entirely up to her.

She slowly slipped from beneath his fingers but, just when as his arm were about to fall to his sides, dared to grasp his right hand, “I still want you to stay close though.”

Her movements were made more awkward and slow by her lack of an anchoring point but, soon, the two of them were gliding together. With each passing second of flight, as she acclimatised herself and grew accustomed to the movements, she felt the heavy iron ball in her gut gradually shrink. She refused to let herself think this was fun, especially not while she was holding his hand so tightly, but she did permit herself an internal admission that this wasn’t entirely awful. Skating over a sea of clouds, surrounded by starlight and hand in hand with her best friend? It was very difficult to think of this as awful, even if not seeing the ground was a huge part of it.

Tentatively, trying something new, Blaze managed to turn and face him while still flying in the same direction.

The shift came with a small increase in speed but Blaze took that in stride, “Is there anything you think I should try, Silver?”

“Well, the test is supposed to be fairly simple, it’s just a little obstacle course. It focuses on manoeuvring through the air…” He mused aloud before, in a serious tone, making a foolish suggestion, “If you’re alright with separating, we could play a game of tag?”

It was a childish proposition or, at least, that was Blaze’s first thought. Her second thought was far more positive though as she realised what his suggestion implied, his natural talent and experience flying meant that he could already soar to the academy’s standards. If she could even just follow his path then, surely, that meant she would pass too. There was only one problem- she’d have to separate from him.

Blaze brought herself to a halt, allowing her thumb to glide over his knuckles, “If I call out, I know you’ll come and catch me…” Something about this, assumedly the fact that her training had taken on such an embarrassing form, was rebolstering her blush, “But I’d like to hear you say it again.”

“If you fall, I’ll catch you, Blaze. I promise,” He swore, his smile totally vanished and his most serious face took its place, “You won’t even touch the clouds.”

Her fingers slipped from his, she was on her own in the sky, “So, how are we going to do this?”

“How about you fly away from me first and then, if I catch you, I’ll try to keep away from you?” He’d phrased it in such an honest way that, were it anyone else proposing it, she’d think they were being condescending. He really thought there was a chance that he wouldn’t be able to catch her and that he wouldn’t have to slow down so she could catch him.

Still, regardless of the difference between their skill, she was going to give this her best. Though it renewed that weight in her belly, even though she was certain that she would regret it mere moments later, Blaze pointed her toes skyward and rushed away from Silver, struggling to turn mid-air on order to see where she was going in this obstacle-less sky.

“W-Wait, Blaze, is that a yes?!” He called out and, by the sound of his voice, he wasn’t giving chase yet.

Deciding she needed this lead in order to make their game even remotely worthwhile, she didn’t answer him. Remembering the stabilisers she’d used for take-off, Blaze brought her hands to burn and, though she floundered for a moment, used their bonus thrust to shoot even further from him. That done, cloud after cloud vanishing beyond her feet, she dared to look over her shoulders and saw a cyan globule finally begin its shift towards her. Though she tried to fight it, a grin managed to wriggle its way onto her face as she looked forward. If she was bound to be caught and he’d surely gain on her soon, it was worth getting in a little practice… besides, he could surely use some training too.

With the simple quirk of her brow and through rolling her heels, Blaze feigned a movement left before shooting off towards the right. She didn’t even glance back at him after that, instead opting to try and alter her elevation; with a bit of effort, the young witch managed to align her body and crawl further into the sky as she flew away. Using her hands made all of this a lot easier, she could flare more energy into them to aid in adjusting elevation or simply increase the flames coming from one palm to force her path to bend.

“You’re doing great, Blaze!” A much too close voice called out, “I’m sure you’ll ace the test! You’re already so good!” It was getting closer by the second.

She’d known this would happen, it was an inevitability, but the pyrokinetic found that a competitive spark had stolen the spot of that metal mass in her gut. Her pulse was pounding, she knew her magic could hold out for another hour at minimum; she decided that the best way to learn was a trial by fire. Alternating hands and kicking as she went, Blaze managed to form eight quick zigzags before shooting left with all her will. Flare after flare burst from her limbs as she darted further and further above the clouds.

Unfortunately though, just as Blaze thought she was reaching the summit of what she could stomach, there was a flash of cyan light above. Blaze didn’t even have to glance to know what’d happened, Silver’s experience flying mean he’d clearly understood plotting the shortest route. Being in the lead was difficult, every harsh turn meant traveling further for the lead and a shortcut for the one behind. Simultaneous to that though, Silver was (perhaps unknowingly) about to teach her a technique she hadn’t even attempted yet. The only way to avoid him was to descend.

Blaze tried to lessen her output, but that proved far harder than increasing their potency. Once her upward thrust was spent, she began to plummet like a stone and fall feet first towards the clouds. Her hands flickered and sputtered as she tried to balance herself again, she straightened her back and shut her eyes tight as ignition after ignition failed to fully take hold. Finally, she managed to light her ignitions again… only to overdo it and rocket right back up. She shot right past him, very almost being caught.

As he rocketed up to give chase, frustrated, Blaze chose to continue to practice altitude control. Rather than snuff everything, she focused and manage to mute the flames on her feet. The difference was clear and immediate, she was slower and a lot shakier but this worked far better than trying to calm both sets of flames. She managed to drop directly in front of him only to then relight her boots and blast forward. The feline must have gotten too greedy and drawn too close because she soon felt something pad between her shoulder blades.

“Tag!” The moment she’d registered the touch, he’d called out as if they were kids on the playground.

She swivelled around in the air only to find he’d raced off in the other direction so quickly that he almost looked like a star on the horizon. Leaning into her movement, Blaze found herself flying faster than she ever had before. In the time it took to catch up to the grey wizard, Blaze had a moment to contemplate the rather miraculous change she’d experienced. She’d gone from being terrified of heights to dancing across the sky just like he could. Admittedly, she was certain those fears would return if she was on the other side of the cloud barrier or flying alone but flying around the test course with the instructors watching would surely prove easy enough. It’d been an exchange of tutelage, she’d given him notes and he’d helped her practice, but Blaze couldn’t help feeling a little indebted to her partner.

Some of that feeling waned when she caught sight of him and how he was flying though. The hedgehog flying with his back to the ground and his eyes trained upon her, he almost looked like he was sitting up in bed. Blaze understood why he’d chosen that position, it meant he’d been able to keep an eye on her and that he’d be able to fulfil his promise, but that didn’t stop it from stoking a more competitive aspect of her psyche.

It was just naivete, he didn’t know how cocky he was being, yet it still fuelled her drive! Blaze closed her fists for a moment, allowing pressure and tension to build in them just as she had when first taking off. It was terrifying to be frank but, knowing the direction she was rocketing and that the closer she was to him the safer she’d be, Blaze managed to steady herself and focus on building energy. Containing her flames slowed her in the short term, so much so that the grey hedgehog’s head cocked and he seemed to slow down. At the perfect second, just as she saw his mouth begin to open and the gap between them lingered around four dozen metres, Blaze reopened her palm.

Like catching a surprise shooting star out of the corner of his eye, he must have blinked in bafflement when he saw her for the first time. By the time he’d started to move she was already almost upon him, carried by sheer momentum more than thrust at that point, gaining more than a metre with each passing second. Finally, almost too late, he realised that he stood no chance of overtaking her- Silver’s arms opened wide and, with more than a little magic bolstering effort, he both was caught and managed to catch her.

Willing it as she entered his grasp, her flames snuffed themselves as any lingering momentum was absorbed by a combination of his psychic aura and fluffy body. Blaze found herself lying atop him, their muzzles very almost touching and the rims of their hats bumping. If it weren’t for the adrenaline currently coursing through her, she’d probably have had a lot more to say or complain about this situation but, for now at least, she was content to be back on the equivalent of stable ground.

“H-Hi,” He stuttered, plainly surprised and impressed by her showing.

“Hello,” She hummed, grasping at his shoulders to better secure herself, “How was that?”

His arms found her back and his smile quickly returned, she felt their bodies begin to descend, “You were incredible Blaze! You took to the air so well! You probably didn’t even need me for this,” That thought seemed to take the wind back out of his sails, “I-I’ll make up for the notes some other way… I’ll-

“You’re so naïve,” She cut him off, propping herself up slightly, “I wouldn’t have had the guts to come up here without you. You don’t have to worry about making anything up to me.”

The cloud barrier obscured her view of him for a moment or so but soon, she found his face and could see the grounds beneath. Weirdly enough, as she lay in his arms, it didn’t feel like the ground was all that far away. Or, well, that she wasn’t at risk of meeting it at ludicrous speeds.

Gently, slowly, he shifted upright and lowered the young witch to her feet before himself landing back near the heart of the amphitheatre. Now on the ground, a hold that’d once been for the sake of survival and security had transmuted into one born of comfort and kindness. Blaze found herself lingering in his grasp and in fact deepening her hold, the witch’s right arm managed to slip down and hold the small of his back. While she had performed subtle in this shift from practicality to affection, he wasn’t nearly so subdued in his shift. Her feet left the ground again as he hugged her with all his might, chortling as he did so.

When she returned to the ground for a second time and their eyes met again, bristles of heat crept across her muzzle. Without the moonlight, he was the only light for-

“And what time would the two of you call this?” A voice, tired and deep, sounded from one of the amphitheatre’s high seats.

Both their heads swivelled like they were about to be knocked off and their gaze fell upon a very cross and prickly looking figure, sat with a book in his right hand and crackling green energy in his left. The individual’s red eyes and dark robes, entirely lacking the oh-so-common hat most students and lecturers wore, gave away who they were and forced their joy to give way to panic and fear. Shadow the Hedgehog, the very lecturer who would be conducting the flying test, had caught them.

“Um,” Silver stammered, letting Blaze to the ground, “L-Late?”

“How astute,” He seemed to sneer, “And what say you of your current position, Blaze?”

“It’s my fault professor, I asked Silver to-

“N-No, it’s my fault!” Silver cut her off, “Blaze just wanted help, she did nothing wrong!”

“Endangering both your own and each other’s safety and being out of your dorms at such a late hour,” He tutted, “What kind of punishment to give you both.”

Blaze couldn’t help but throw a glance to Silver, the hedgehog looked entirely stern. No matter how they were dealt with, Blaze knew he would try to take it all on himself, just as she had. She was certain there was no way around it, that they’d both be punished, but, following a long and drawn out sigh, the usually cruel lecturer took a bizarre course of action.

“Pick up your things, go to your dorms and pray that I forget this infraction before I settle on a fitting detention,” Their eyes clashed again, confused, but before they could ask, the hedgehog gave a demand, “Well, go on, hurry along before I change my mind.”

They stood frozen for a second but, seeing his brows furrow, the two threw a quick glance to each other before rushing to pick up their things. He’d leaned in close as he went for his bag, “S-See you soon.”

“Yeah…” She managed to mumble, slinging her bag over her shoulders and allowing her shoulder to graze his, “Th-Thank you, Silver. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

They were forced to part ways with that as their goodbye, Silver walking

“And do remember, regardless of clouds, if you’re going to make quite so much light at night then people are going to notice!” The old man concluded his chiding, likely returning to his book, “We’re hardly in the right position to see an aurora…”

The walk back to the dorms was lonelier than her walk there by a wide margin. Though they’d parted so suddenly, or perhaps due to it, she could still see his smile in her mind. When they met again tomorrow, she’d try to make it up to him, try to engage first contact like she had in the sky, but the more that wizard’s grin lingered the more embarrassed she felt. While the pyrokinetic doubted Professor Shadow was the type to gossip, if word of their actions spread then the rumours would only get worse. Hopefully no one else had seen them tonight but, by the sound of it, they’d been rather hard to miss…

[dearaliceliddel]

CHARACTER STUDY

— basics.

▸ is your muse tall / short / average ?

Alice is short average, standing at 5′5″

▸ are they okay with their height ?

Considering Wonderland, the height of things always so skewed, Alice doesn’t think much of her height often. But being short has proven to be quite useful at surviving and fighting. But trying to not be looked down upon or people assuming she’s too weak? Hm. Irritating.

▸ what’s their hair like ?

Long and soft, smooth to the touch. Alice has thick hair but where it was once wavy, it’s now straight for her own peace of mind, its own weight pulling it straighter. Dark brown, very nearly black in the right light.

▸ do they spend a lot of time on their hair / grooming ?

Not often, as Alice doesn’t really style her hair unless she is left with no choice. Cleaning and bathing of course takes time, but otherwise it’s merely brushed out and handled to not be a wreck. If she has to, pulling it back into a pony tail or braid can happen on the rare occasion. Otherwise it is flowing free.

▸ does your muse care about their appearance / what others think ?

Considering Alice’s state in her appearances, she is more for comfort and self identity over being fancy. Her bigger worry is surviving and her personal feeling. Yet she is still a proper young lady, and knows how to look nice when she needs to. Alice’s sense of style has always been there, it is merely on a more comfortable level. Her dresses are a combination of utility and appearance.

— preferences.

▸ indoors or outdoors ?

Both. Being outdoors has always held a source of adventure for Alice alongside her imagination. But as the years went on and the trauma, torment, madness, and suffering sank in, she figured out how to enjoy being indoors just as much. She can acclimate to whatever may need.

▸ rain or sunshine ? 

Sunshine is much preferred, as the rain can bring such sad feelings. The sun brings warmth and hope, memories of better years. But one can not deny sitting inside, with a nice warm cup of tea while hearing the rain falling on a roof or against windows.

▸ forest or beach ?

The Forest hands down. Reminds Alice of her home in Oxford, and the estate that had the forest around it, where she would run around so easily. And first found the rabbit hole. While a beach can be fun, there is something about sprawling forests that has her at ease. 

▸ precious metals or gems ? 

Metal’s has many more uses than gems can have, as gorgeous as gems can be. Yet at the same time one can’t deny the chances of a rare stone of some sort being useful in a certain moment. So, I’m going to say both but metal leaning.

▸ flowers or perfumes ?

Flowers. Such things remind Alice of her younger days and gardens. Perfumes can sometimes smell like the same flowers she remembers as a child, and she does enjoy them if needed, but there’s always more enjoyment of the real thing.

▸ personality or appearance ?

Personality. While an appearance can be a bonus, Alice much prefers someone personality and who they truly are deep down and under whatever facade or surface level showing that is given for general public. The personality and personal quirks or ticks are more revealing of ones true self.

▸ being alone or being in a crowd ? 

Alone. Sometimes being in a crowd can be stressful, and bring a headache, especially if she is forced to be touching people as her trigger. Being alone has been forcefully ingrained into her by the torments of her life. But if she is comfortable with some friends, enough so to be considered a group, she does not mind being in the proverbial crowd with someone she knows has her back.

▸ order or anarchy ? 

Order and Anarchy mean nothing if the world is careening wildly on the jagged edge of reality. Alice has seen the best and worst of everything in equal measure, and knows the disgusting truths she wishes she could forget. But if she had to choose, a mix of both. Anarchy is merely chaos with a direction, and order is organized madness.

▸ painful truths or white lies ?

This is another Both situation. Alice is very much driven to discover the truth of situations if she has to do so, find facts, considering how many were hid from her and used against her in lies. But she also understands the need for lies to protect others or herself.

▸ science or magic ?

Magic is merely Science others don’t understand, as Alice has been told before. But she accepts both in equal measure, and loves to learn more.

▸ peace or conflict ?

Alice craves peace for once, even for a short time. Able to sit, rest, be at ease for once, with no fear or sadness. Able to sleep for once without fear, or feel like nothing is wrong. But that is a fleeting notion as she understands conflict shall always come in any form, and sometimes she will cause it if she has to.

▸ night or day ?

Night or Day can bring good and bad moments. Hiding in the dark can only protect you so much, while the daylight does not chase away cruelty. Alice accepts both with how little she sleeps and refuses to do so actively. But she enjoys the warmth of daylight.

▸ dusk or dawn ?

Dawn brings a new day. Watching a sunrise can be quite enjoyable. But she will always ever enjoy the beauty of a sunset and how it paints the skies and horizon like a work of art.

▸ warmth or cold ?

Considering how sensitive Alice is to temperature and the shifts in the air of such things, she prefers warmth. Easily cold thanks to the damage of her body from severe burns and fire. Yet the cold does not stop her and she can force herself through as unpleasant as it is.

▸ many acquaintances or a few close friends ?

Alice prefers to have just a few close friends, and yet she has acquired many acquaintances. A bit of both ever present in her life. She’s worried of opening up to people and accepting them closer as Alice has a habit of loosing those she cares about. But if you earn her friendship and to be close enough for her to be comfortable with you? Then you earned a fiercely loyal friend that will kill for you.

▸ reading or playing a game ?

Books have ALWAYS been a treasure for Alice, even more so being alone. It allows her to feel free and in another world for a while, imagination running wild without worry. And on top of that, she can learn so much from new studies or thick tomes. Her brain craves learning and teasers, alongside fantasy. Reality has so much of her attention already, she sometimes needs an escape. But a game? Now those will still have her highly interested. But its harder to play games alone.

— questionnaire.

▸ what are some of your muse’s bad habits ?

Refusing to sleep, unable to do so and staying up for extended periods. Eating exceedingly rarely and only enough to be functional and not starve, but still has water and drinks tea commonly. Taking on danger without any fear for herself, and not thinking twice of injuries she may take. Self destruction and self harm. Blaming herself for much at times. Withdrawal and refusing to open up to others without being convinced to do so. Sometimes spiking her tea with a strong alcohol. Using hookah at times, a habit picked up from Caterpillar. Having wonderful advice to give others but often not taking it herself. And as always, Alice’s impossible curiosity.

▸ has your muse lost anyone close to them ? how has it affected them ?

Almost everyone. Alice lost her family in a fire that was started to cover up the murder and r*p* of her sister. Lost her Wonderland into Madness and even herself. Tormented and tortured in an Asylum for ten years of her life, with almost no real help. Lost her rabbit, her cat, her life, home, everything. Then was nearly broken by the very man that took it all away. So she killed that man in poetic justice so he could never harm anyone else. These moments have changed and hardened Alice through most of her life. Having made it hard to accept others into her life closely, always keeping people at arms length, but also willing to put in her all to help others get a better life than she had, or to try and help them have some sense of sanity. She fears physical contact due too the abuse she had and torments, scared of anything doing that again, even more so after what happened with her sister.

▸ what are some fond memories your muse has ?

There is so very few after the age of 8. But before that? Alice remembers fondly how her Father would help so many less fortunate kids or families, to give them a chance to learn, help them with food or clothes. And how Father would take her and her sister out for adventures in the city. Mother being a doctor and taking time at home to teach her daughters at home anything she could. The family dinners, the way they were always such a giving family, despite being so rich and well off. Alice’s older sister Lizzie always encouraging her to be herself, so open and loving. Then there was Wonderland before she fell apart. How she misses her friends even now. Nothing left but pain and heartache, as Alice strives to make better memories in her life.

▸ is it easy for your muse to kill ?

That depends on the person and situation. Alice has stepped across the threshold for murder and killing a long time ago, both in Wonderland and in Reality. Blood and gore are no problem. But if it is someone innocent, or a friend, anything like that? She won’t be able to kill. Injure and disable for their own safety yes, or just defend herself, but not kill. If it was someone that truly deserved it? Absolutely. 

▸ what’s it like when your muse breaks down ?

An emotional roller coaster. Alice tries to keep her emotions kept under control, to think as logically as she can after all her experiences. But she has always felt so very deeply, more than many people, and it does not always work. She gets so angry when she gets sad, frustrated at herself for breaking down and upset she’s broken so. But her tears are always so heavy because she tries to keep it all contained. She would only cry harder if she had someone there to let her cry on and have support of. 

▸ is your muse capable of trusting someone with their life ?

It is so very rare. But yes, Alice is capable of this. Although she is usually in the position of front liner and protector, as she has been forced to become with no choice. 

▸ what’s your muse like when they’re in love ?

Considering how rare it is for Alice, she would be unaware of it at first. Just simply instinct driving her to be closer to the individual that has won her trust and affection. But after she starts to understand it, she will try her best to deny and bury those feelings down. Refusing to ruin a friendship or endanger anyone else. But once she loves someone, Alice loves with all her heart and can be quite a warm person and passionate.

*

Tagged by: @fatherdamned (thank you so much)

Tagging: @nerv0usm3chanic (lucan), @punsandfuturekingsmen @bluescarfvivi @heartsdefine , @trollamulet​, @maiolica-admirer​, @reanimatedmuses​ (Jack)

[marvinswriting]

outdoors

prompt: I NEED TO SEE BORROWER ROOMMATES KAREN AND AARON okay dont YELL bEAR mg borrower (roommates) au

"Aaron, you ready?" 

I look up to see Karen hoving at the doorway.

"Yeah." I finish shoving the last of my tools into my bag. We're going outside to borrower today. It's nice to get the fresh air and some plants for the 'apartment'. We don't go outside often, but when we do it's a full day activity.

Yeah.

Day.

As much as I hate being in broad daylight, it's safer when it's bright out then at night. 

Outdoor borrowing 101.

"Let's go." I say, stepping out of my 'room'. Karen follows close behind.

Its a pretty big trek to the outside, especially when your home in the walls is in the center of the house. We move diligently, avoiding paths we know have bugs.

From what we've gathered about this house is its owned by the George's and its fucking huge. 

They got an extension on the house about a year ago, almost exposing our home. The dad is always on the phone bragging how it's 'the biggest fucking house in the neighborhood'. Which, yeah, a nice flex for you, but for the tiny people in your walls our lives are so much harder now. 

I met Karen a couple of months after I was left to my own devices. My childhood friend and I went in opposite directions. I was alone and scared. So was Karen. We were nomadic for a while. Not rouge, just- struggling to find the right place. To many pets, not a predictable schedule, getting caught- 

We struggled a lot before finding this house.

There's a small hole in the side of the house that we leave from. If it ever got fixed we'd be locked in the house forever. It's our only exit as far as we're aware. 

"Wait-" I step in front of Karen, peaking outside. There doesn't seem to be any animals or more importantly, humans walking around. 

This is the side of the house closest to the neighboring building. Like- I'm talking small alleyway in between the two houses where there is no sun. It's maybe four human feet but I'm not humans so exact measurements are lost on me. 

Nobody goes back here so the grass grows tall despite lack of sunlight. Karen and I split up a bit to grab things. 

There aren't many options in a damp alleyway but we make it work.

I maneuver my way around plants and bigger rocks, mindful of any bugs. They can get big out here. And fucking scary. Sometimes when we split up and Karen see one she'll-

A familiar scream cuts off my thoughts.

Yep. 

She'll do that.

I rush towards the sound but stop dead in my tracks when I see Karen cornered by- two other borrowers?

What?

A girl about Karen's hight with curly brown hair and a boy towering over both of them.

"What's going on?" I yell without even thinking.

All three borrowers turn to me. Karen visibly relaxes while the other two look confused.

"What are you doing borrowing here?" The boy asks.

"This is where we borrow," I state, pointing to the house behind us.

"Why is there screaming? Do you want to get caught?" A voice asks from behind a clump of glass. Its pushed out of the way and standing there is a third borrower. Something about her is familiar. 

"Look." The curly-haired girl says, pointing to me and Karen. Karen rushes over to me.

"We didn't mean any harm." She raises her hands in defense.

The new girl glares at me. It's not a look of anger, rather confusion. I can't help but feel like I'm being judged.

Karen continues. "Aaron and I were just looking for-"

"Aaron?!" The girl cuts Karen off, eyes lighting up. "Oh my god."

Why is she so familiar? Something about her just feels like a warm childhood presence. Like- I don't feel threatened at all, but I should. Its a total stranger. 

"Janis, what's your problem?" The boy shoots. The girl deflates slightly but the smile doesn't fade off her face.

Wait.

Holy shit.

Wait a fucking-

"Janis?!"

"Karen!" 

We all look towards the blonde. She smiles. "Introductions! These two already clearly know each other. So I'm Karen!"

The curly-haired girl smiles a bit ."I'm Gretchen and this is Kevin. You seem to already know Janis."

"Yeah, wait-" Kevin speaks up. "How do  you guys already know each other?"

Janis smiles walking over to me. "When I was little my mother and her roommates both had kids at the same time. We grew up together and learned all our borrowing skills together. But when we left to grow and fight on our own, we obviously lost touch." She pulled me into a hug. "Nice to see you again, Aaron." She whispers. 

"Aww, that's actually really cute!" Gretchen says in aw. "A mini-reunion."

I smile. "Yeah. I missed you, J. What are you a rouge borrower now? What are you doing out here?"

Janis makes a face. "I'd die before going rogue. Not that there's anything wrong with it, but stationary born and raised, yknow? We actually live in that house!"

She points to the building literally next door.

"Are you kidding me?" I ask. "For how long?!"

Janis shrugs. "Maybe three years now? Living in the walls, borrowing at night, staying hidden-"

Kevin laughs a little and Gretchen elbows him. I feel like I'm missing part of an inside joke but I don't push.

"What about you, A?" Janis asks. "You and your roommates causing any trouble?"

"No, actually. You were always the reckless one."

"Some things must never change," Kevin remarks.

"I've gotten better." Janis holds her hands up in defense. "You didn't know child Janis."

"Don't think I want to if she was worse then right now."

Kevin and Janis continue to bicker and Gretchen walks over to me and Karen. 

"They will do this all day." She sighs. "Imagine living with them."

Karen laughs. "I'm feeling very lucky about my roommate."

"Got room for one more?" Gretchen jokes.

"Guys!" Karen cried out, pointing behind Kevin and Janis.

A cat was stalking over. Clearly in the mood to play.

I reach to grab my hook but Janis holds her hands up.

"Don't attack!"

She walks over to the cat and-

Why the fuck is she walking over to the cat?

"Hey, Ariel!" She cooes, placing her hand on the cat's nose. The cat lays down obediently.

"What the fuck?" The words are out of my mouth before I can even question it.

Kevin shrugs. "We don't know how she does it either."

"It comes in handy to befriend a cat. Fast travels baby." Janis grins, sitting in front of the cat. "Meet Ariel. If you walk over slowly she won't attack."

"I don't like those odds, J," I say. "I'll stay over here."

"Suit yourself." Janis shrugs.

"C'mon," Gretchen says softly, grabbing Karen's hand. "Ariel won't attack with Janis there. I swear shes some kind of cat tamer."

"It's called cat treats," Janis says. "I bought her trust."

I watch tentatively as Karen pets the cat. She gasps. "Aaron, Ariel is so soft."

"I'm sure," I say without moving.

Something gives me the feeling that Karen and I won't get much borrowing done today. But to know J had been so close this whole time? I felt stupid for not figuring out sooner, but glad that it isn't much trek to see her and her roommates.

Besides, a guard cat isn't so bad of an idea. 

Karen and Gretchen seem to be getting along and as Kevin stood next to me I didn't find myself too opposed to the idea of another boy around.

Maybe knowing our borrower neighbors wasn't such a bad thing.

@realmisspolarbear @musicallygt @smallsoysauce @sourishlemons

[thekytchensynk]

To Be a Hero (Fictober Prompt 10)

Prompt number: 10

Fanfiction Fandom: My Hero Academia

Rating: G

Warnings: None

Read the story on AO3

Even though the doctor promises that their child has a quirk, for a long time, Neito’s parents aren’t so sure.

They try to give it time. After all, their own quirks aren’t the sort you can see in a child either. Her hyper-eidetic memory could be useful, but was a little hard to notice at first. His ability to tell the exact temperature of anything he touched had to wait at least until the child had the ability to talk and a working understanding of temperature beyond “hot” and “cold.”

But as he headed off to kindergarten, where his classmates were all showing off their nascent abilities, it quickly became clear he didn’t have either of their quirks. And all they could do when he came home asking about it one day was reassure him that the doctor said so, and his ability must just be special, and waiting for him to be ready.

It is three months into the school year before his teacher puts in a tentative call to them. Yes, he’s a bit of a handful, but aren’t they all at that age. Anyway, we’ve been considering whether to call you about this for a while. Yes, we wanted to be sure. For weeks, he has been exhibiting signs of a quirk. No, it’s a little different. It only lasts a few seconds and there was never any consistency. But yesterday was the third time it happened, and we noticed it always matched the quirks of his classmates. No, we’re not sure what it means, but we figured you should know, since you may not be seeing it at home. Yes. Yes. Thank you. Good night.

His parents are thrilled, until family gatherings start to get … distant. Oh, sometimes it’s normal. His grandfather swings him up into his arms and asks about school. Two of his cousins join him in a game of tag in the backyard. But his aunt steps subtly to the side when he runs by, and asks her children to sit quietly instead of joining in the games like usual.

He doesn’t much notice -- tag is tag -- but his parents do.

“It’s not that I don’t love him,” she explains to her sister later when questioned about avoiding Neito. “He’s my nephew. But it’s just … it’s weird, isn’t it? What if it gets stronger when he gets older? It’s copying now, but what if someday he … It’s just … I’m sorry. It’s just weird.”

His parents don’t think it’s weird. They think it’s amazing, a morphing of their two quirks in a completely unexpected way. And their boy is outgoing and self-sure and maybe a little bossy but they love watching him taking on the world.

Doing his assigned chores after school is something that 7-year-old Monoma doesn’t mind, of course. But it’s boring, and he likes talking to his friends --to anyone really -- and sometimes he loses track of time. So today he’s sweeping out the cubbyholes in the back alone, the rest of the students having already finished and fled for the greener fields of the sunny outdoors. His teacher sits at his desk at the front, supervising in name, but mostly grading papers.

The silence settles like an uncomfortable weight on Monoma, so he does what he assumes anyone would -- he fills it. Tells his teacher about the great rescue he saw on TV the other day. How he cut out the picture from the newspaper the next day, and has it plastered next to his desk at home. How he’s going to be a hero too, someday.

When Monoma mentions UA, he thinks he knows what to expect -- the eyebrow raise, the thinning of the mouth, the amused chuckle that so many adults have when he talks about being a hero. But instead, the teacher smiles down at the papers he’s working on.

“Interested in taking a hero course?”

“Yeah!”

The teacher considers this a moment. Nods. “I think that’s a great idea.”

A great idea? No chuckle? The teacher thinks it’s a great idea? Monoma can’t stop the grin. See? At least someone knows it’s not impossible!

“I think a lot of agencies would love to have a sidekick with a power like yours,” the teacher continues, making notes on the sheet in front of him. “They could have two of anyone they needed on site, depending on what the situation called for. You could be very useful!”

“Sidekick?” Monoma’s grin fades. What’s this man talking about? Sidekick. He’s definitely hero material.

The teacher nods. “You always have trouble with the new powers when you pick them up, but if you were working with the same people all the time, you-”

“Wait, I haven’t had an accident in a long time!” He hates that the teachers call losing control of a quirk “having an accident” like he’s a baby who wet his pants. But it’s the word they use, and so he does too.

The teacher looks up, and the sudden move puts a stop to the childish defense. “I know. I know you’re trying and I know you don’t mean to.” And he’s right. Monoma tries not to let it bother him, but he’s right on all counts. New quirks are hard to control when he first gets them. He goes at the last cubby with an extra vengeance, dust particles flying.

“Yours is a difficult quirk,” that voice continues. “And that’s just a limitation it has. I know it’s tough, but better that you accept it now and focus on what you can do. Which is still quite a lot.”

The teacher is trying to be encouraging, but all Monoma can hear is how stupid this man is. How he’s talking down to his student like... like a child! Which, sure, he is technically, but a teacher shouldn’t talk like that! Isn’t he supposed to encourage the best in them?

“Of course, you’ll have to work hard.” The teacher doesn’t even notice as Monoma’s fingers curl harder around the little brush handle, nails biting into his palms as he tromps over to the garbage can and tips the dust in. “And UA may be … a little ambitious. With your grades, you’ll have a hard time getting into the big-name ones. There’s still time though, if you study harder.”

The teacher looks up then, and on seeing his student’s face, his expression grows somewhat softer. “Hey, don’t worry about it,” he says, clearly still trying to be encouraging even though he doesn’t get it, he doesn’t get it at all. “If you work hard, I’m sure you can succeed anywhere you’re accepted.”

Objectively, someone on the outside might have recognized that the teacher could be right. All quirks have limits, and this could very well be his. But in that room, at that moment, Monoma decides he’s wrong, foolishly and completely wrong. The limitation isn’t with his quirk, his quirk is awesome. The limitation must therefore be with Monoma himself, and if that’s the case … well, he just needs to get over it.

And act like a hero.

Putting on his best grin, Monoma says, “Thanks! I’m sure I can too.”

It becomes a weekend tradition -- he goes to the park, or to a mall, or just out on the street and he introduces himself to at least a dozen people. He shakes their hands and thanks them and leaves them mystified as he walks off again. And then he concentrates.

Quirks come in an infinite variety, and he can feel each one in a range of ways. He used to try to explain to people what their quirks felt like, but the strange looks he got weren’t worth it. Besides, they felt their own quirk all the time. They probably couldn’t even distinguish it anymore. It was just part of the landscape of their sensation every day.

But Monoma can, and the feel can tell him how careful he has to be with a quirk, how on guard, how controlled.

His mother’s quirk is squared off and pale, with rigid edges and infinite possibility. It’s supportive and steady and predictable. It also takes very little to control, which is good because he borrows it from her regularly.

Father’s feels different -- it’s a ball of red that sits in the middle of his chest, in the warmest part of his body, and when he reaches for something, it extends a tendril out to his fingertips. It feels alive within him, like a sleepy cat reaching a paw out for a stray kibble.

And over time he learns that’s the first thing to look for -- how alive it feels. Because some quirks want to be used more than others. There’s an electricity to them, an energy that beats against him like a caged butterfly.

He never forgets the day the kind lady with the gray hair and the welcoming smile shakes his hand and he borrows what feels like a cat made of fire. It burns and batters at his ribs and he guesses it shows on his face because her smile fades and she asks, “Are you all right, little boy? Is your mother here?”

I’m fine, he tries to say, but the heat is burning at his throat and he feels like if he does speak, if he relaxes his attention for even that long, it’s going to get out. He darts off, not even hearing whether or not she calls after him. He just runs, runs until there’s no one around and he’s in the grimy but uncluttered alley between two stores on a street he’s not sure of. And here finally, he tries harnessing that animal in him. It feels hot, so he expects fire when he reaches out.

Nothing happens. The maelstrom within rages, but he can’t figure out how to focus it and use it. His fingertips feel hot -- burning -- and he presses then to the wall just to feel the cool of the shadowed stone.

He doesn’t expect them to sink straight in.

But the stone melts under his fingers, and at the same time the power switches -- from a wild cat trapped somewhere it doesn’t want to be to a watchful one, laser-focused on some small animal. With the power having an outlet, it becomes more ordered, but it’s also melting a building and it’s using his fingers to do it, so he pulls them back. But the moment he does, it feels restless again and begins badgering for freedom.

He forces himself to walk slowly, head down and fingers splayed, until the time runs out and the quirk disappears. And it’s hard not to just run home afterward and hide in his room. There’s always next weekend. Another new quirk.

But he doesn’t. He doesn’t because he can’t.

Because the weakness in himself won’t disappear if he hides in his room.

Because he refuses to just be a sidekick.

And because he thinks next time he gets a wild quirk like that he may have a better idea of how to harness it.

He’s 11 when he finally really, truly understands the difference between himself and All Might.

It isn’t Sara’s fault that she still comes to school in last year’s worn out, slightly-too-small uniforms. Kids don’t buy the uniforms, their parents do. Any idiot should know that. But three idiots are following her down the sidewalk after school, loudly making comments to one another about the slight stains. About the way it strains around her shoulders. About her appearance in general. As she speeds up, they speed up too. When she finally has enough and whirls on them, they all raise an eyebrow at her. “What?” The ringleader asks in faux innocence, and she, frustrated, turns and starts stomping down the sidewalk again.

It’s not right. And before he really realizes what he’s doing, he has run across the distance between them and placed himself in the space between the bullies and their target.

“Stop it,” he demands, staring the trio down. “Leave her alone.”

They pause, surprised by his sudden appearance. But none of them look particularly bothered by it. The ringleader -- a wiry boy with a wry grin -- again speaks for the group.

“What’re you going to do about it?” he asks, voice inquisitive.

There’s not really a good answer. He hasn’t really thought that far ahead. So he does what he thinks a hero would do. He balls his hands into fists and says, “I’ll stop you.”

The ringleader exchanges looks with his two friends -- his large, stocky bodyguard buddy on the left and then the lanky, hunched hanger-on on the right -- then looks lazily back at his new target. Monoma, who struggles in gym class and can feel his legs quavering beneath him, isn’t a fan of the look.

A nod seems to be the signal. The bodyguard takes a step forward, his own fingers tightening. Then he lunges.

The musclehead is also 11, and from his hiss of pain, it seems like he hurts himself as well somehow when he punches Monoma in the face. But Monoma can’t really be sure because somehow he’s on the ground and his face hurts and his palms sting and his ears are full of a high, whining noise and he can see the shadow of the ringleader falling over him like a shroud.

“I said, what’re you going to do about it?” the kid asks again. Then, as a bit of punctuation, spits out, “loser.”

Monoma half expects the kid to kick him, but he doesn’t. The group just leaves. He’s apparently not even worth messing with beyond this, and as he lays on the ground, he’s not sure whether to be insulted or relieved.

His unwillingness to explain his bruises and scrapes clearly worries his parents. If he had a mindreading quirk to hand, he might have known about how in that bruise, they saw the harsher echoes of family members who refused to treat their Neito like any other child, of parental fears of cruelty and misunderstanding.

But he can’t see any of that, so when his parents enroll him in judo classes, he guesses they think he’s picking fights and they want him to learn discipline. Which he tries to tell them he doesn’t need. But as long as he won’t explain what actually happened, he supposes he can’t blame them for their mistake.

Judo classes are fun, but by the third one, he starts to get mysterious stomach aches right before they leave. His parents don’t press him after the second session he misses, and he’s sure they have their own thoughts about why he doesn’t want to go. But he expects their guess is wrong.

There are a lot of cool things about him -- it’s actually awesome how awesome he is -- but even the best things have a few drawbacks. And Monoma can’t deny that he has a certain … problem … with impulse control.

It’s like … he has it. Of course he has impulse control. But sometimes, it can be hard to maintain it. He finds thoughts slipping out in words before he even realizes it. He doesn’t usually care about that. But this time, it would be different.

Because whenever he touches one of his classmates, to help them stretch or whatever, there’s that temptation. The temptation to see what their power is like.

It’s not just the practice for his quirk. Neito likes people. Finds most of them fascinating. Tries to understand them, even ones he doesn’t enjoy being around. And there’s always something interesting about seeing what a person’s quirk is, what it feels like. Because all too often, it tells him something about the person.

But he still hasn’t perfected his ability to immediately harness any new quirk. So there’s a chance he might completely disrupt a class without even meaning to. But even knowing that, he can feel that ...that itch in the back of his head urging him on.

So he stops the lessons. Better to avoid the temptation.

Monoma finds most people fascinating, but there are exceptions. In every situation, there are strong people and weak ones.

And he hates bullies.

It’s certainly not personal. How could he possibly be so base as to carry a grudge over being picked on for his quirk, for his way of speaking, for the zealous way he tries to uplift the people he likes and respects? Utter foolishness. It doesn’t even cross his mind. Not once! He can handle whatever they throw at him. Definitely.

But it’s unfair for others. And he doesn’t like it.

Because if you already have strength, using it just to put people down, to hurt them and belittle them? What’s even the point? You already have the power in a situation.

And that makes it hard to admit that he might need to study them.

Because some of them are just brutes, people whose strength is in their fists and their feet. But some of them are a little more insidious. They see the weak points, or dig them up, and attack those points, crumbling their target’s defenses and putting them off balance which makes them all the easier to take advantage of.

It’s a hard thing for him to pick apart because it means paying attention to some truly awful people. But he sticks with it. Because All Might shows that strength in your fists or feet can be a force for good. And Monoma thinks, maybe this can too.

He’s never had a problem speaking his mind, to anyone. He’s been called “blunt” or “mouthy” or “an idiot” (the last one, he resents. The rest …. eh.) And as the end of middle school approaches and the weight of trying to get into UA hangs over his head, the question occupies his mind more and more. How can I be a hero? How can I help people?

He’s gained more control over his quirk -- he can hold more than one now, and “accidents” barely ever happen. But he knows it’s not enough. Because unlike basically everyone else trying to be a hero, he never knows what tools he’ll have at any given moment. His quirk is never going to be enough on its own. He needs more. And since he’s long since learned that the “something else” is unlikely to be physical, it’ll have to be mental. So he’s watched, and learned, and both fears and hopes for the day when he gets to try it.

It comes near the end of his final year of middle school. As he prepares to head home, he sees Ringleader and his henchmen (Bodyguard and Hanger-On) outside trying to “borrow” money for something from a classmate. So Monoma gets to work.

A couple minutes later, he walks up just as the trio is about to walk off, cash in hand. “Hey fellas,” he says, stepping in front of them and putting his all into sounding as familiar and casual as possible.

It bugs Ringleader. Monoma can see it in the narrowing of his eyes. “Whacha want, Hero?” he asks.

That word -- hero -- is a slur on Ringleader’s lips, but Monoma lets his grin get bigger. He puts his arms out to the sides in a sort-of shrug, phone in one hand. “Awww, don’t be like that! It sucks that you probably won’t be getting into any of those schools with the baseball teams you really admired, but hey! Sometimes life is just cruel, right? I just wanted to extend my sympathy.”

Any good humor Ringleader had from scoring money off their classmate (who has wisely retreated from the fuse Monoma has lit) is gone now. “Where’d you hear that?” he demands.

“Oh, nowhere special. Just around.” But Monoma takes a chance, looking down, then letting his eyes dart briefly over to Hanger-On.

On a normal day, at a normal time, probably Ringleader wouldn’t fall for this. But first he got irritated, then he got paranoid, and now he sees that sly glance and as Monoma hoped, he rounds on Hanger-On. “What did you say?” He demands, voice low.

It takes a second for the kid to even realize he’s being addressed. Once he does, his eyes go wide, his hands go up, and while he’s utterly sincere, he’s made himself a picture of deflection and deception in the paranoid eyes of his boss. “What? No, Watari, I didn’t say anything, I swear. He’s lying.”

“So how is this getting around the school?” Ringleader growls. Ignoring the fact that he’d been bitching about this to his friends loud and often enough last week that several people had overheard it while waiting for their rides after school. It hadn’t even taken much asking around for Monoma to find someone willing to spill the “secret.”

But even if Hanger-On is thinking that, there is no way to say it without just making Ringleader mad, so he wisely chooses the better part of valor and books it across the schoolyard.

Ringleader makes like he might go after the kid, then lets out a disgusted “Tch” and turns back to Monoma. “And I don’t know why you thought this was a smart thing to do, but now I’m in a bad mood. Get out of our way.”

Monoma keeps grinning. “Aww, sure! Just give that guy his money back and we’re done.” His voice drops a bit and he leans forward to say, “And hey, if the words i’m using are too big, just let me know. I’d hate to let your limited vocabulary get in the way of this reaching a friendly resolution.”

He thinks it’s the grin more than the words that do it, but Ringleader’s last nerve snaps. He doesn’t even say anything, just nods, and Bodyguard steps forward.

Here goes.

Monoma raises both hands, palms out, and invokes the quirk that’s tingling in his fingertips. A brilliant light pulses from his palms, brighter than a camera flash, and only slightly blocked by the phone he pinches between his right thumb and forefinger. This quirk comes courtesy of an underclassman named Gin who Monoma had clapped on the shoulder before coming outside.

Ringleader reels back, cursing and covering his eyes. Bodyguard’s reaction is less pronounced, but he does also squeeze his eyes closed, and his suddenly unguided attack swings wide of Monoma.

That’s the setup. And now, the closer.

As his hands begin messing with his phone, he lets go of the light quirk and switches to Sara’s own little quirk, which he feels like a cool mist in his throat.

“Wait, please don’t hit me,” Monoma puts a little fear into the words. And he uses her ventriloquism quirk to place the sound directly between Bodyguard and Ringleader.

Bodyguard is all instinct and primed for helping his buddy, so the expected swing comes like clockwork. Connects. Monoma has the camera up as Ringleader goes down. And it’s here that he finally lets himself relax a little. Ringleader’s quirk makes a small sphere of darkness. It wasn’t likely to change how this interaction went, but it could have. He’s glad he didn’t have to react to it. Rethinking the plan in the middle doesn’t sound at all good. Not yet.

He checks on Ringleader (He’s sure being punched hard enough to be knocked out can’t be great for the guy), but once he’s sure he’s still breathing and stuff, he backs out of Bodyguard’s range and messes with his phone some more.

Eventually Bodyguard focuses on Ringleader lying on the ground in a way that suggests he can see at last. Monoma sees a teacher hurrying out of the school, and decides it’s now or never.

“That was a heck of a punch,” he says, waggling his phone in one hand. “Can’t wait to show our friend Watari.”

Bodyguard makes like he’s going to go for Monoma again, but the teacher’s voice cuts through the schoolyard like a breaking branch. “Yuuto!” And he stops mid-move, settling for glaring at him instead.

“You can’t.”

“No? Well, how about this,” Monoma says, tapping the corner of his phone against his own cheek. “You lay off our classmates until graduation and I won’t. Two weeks. Deal?”

“...Deal,” the guy says through gritted teeth.

The teacher sends another student for the nurse, to help Ringleader, then marches Monoma and Bodyguard into the school, to the principal. Bodyguard goes first, probably because between Monoma with his slim frame and “useless” quirk or Bodyguard with his quirk that increases the weight of his hands and feet, it’s not much of a guess to figure out which one had knocked out Ringleader. He listens to them talking about how someone with a quirk like his needs to be extra careful. How he needs to stop picking fights and thinking about his future. That they should maybe suspend him, and only his protestations that it was an accident seem to earn him some leeway. Blah blah blah. Monoma tries to tune it out as he waits for his turn in the wringer.

When Bodyguard finally leaves the principal’s office, he doesn’t even glance at Monoma.

The teacher and the principal ask him questions, which are easy enough to answer.

No, he didn’t hit anyone.

Yes, they were picking on someone and he stepped in to help that person.

Yes, he thought they were going to hurt him so he used the flash quirk. That was why he picked it up before intervening -- so he could defend himself if they decided to do anything.

They don’t ask him how Bodyguard ended up clocking his best friend -- they must now believe his assertion that it was just a mistake when he couldn’t see. Instead, he gets much the same lecture as Bodyguard, just dressed in different clothes. You can’t get in fights like this, you’re only going to get yourself in trouble. You need to think about your future and what you can do. You may mean well, but you keep causing trouble.

He knows they want him to look contrite and chastened, but he can’t. He didn’t do anything wrong. So he just listens, nodding at the appropriate moments, and lets most of the criticism wash over him. He does apologize for using a quirk out on the schoolyard -- he knows that’s not allowed, he agrees -- but other than that he’s just waiting for it to be over.

Because he knows part of what they’re trying to tell him is, stop wanting to be a hero. But that’s never going to happen.

UA, here he comes.

[meet-me-in-the-kitchen]

Life Has No Title (H.S, 1)

Y/N Y/L/N is looking forward to summer— until she finds One Direction, England’s top-selling band, hiding in her barn. Now, she has to deal with rockstar egos, an unwanted admirer, and the dark force that sent them into hiding in the first place.

inspired by the starstruck movie and the ff. descrip. please don’t sue lmao.

“Y/N!”

The young woman in question grumbled something about rice and bunnies, sighing in bliss as she burrowed deeper into her warm, freshly washed covers.

“Where’s my hairdryer! You so have my hairdryer.”

“I don’t have your bloody hairdryer,” she mumbled, refusing to do anything, but succumb to the distant calling of sleep and wrap herself tighter into cocoon of bedsheets she was sandwiched inside. Her sister’s voice was far away, now... but a blip in the universe, distant, until it disappeared altogether from this new world of rice and gravy, and...

“Give. Me. Back. My. Hair. Dryer!”

Y/N could hear Anna rummaging through her belongings, intrusively spectating at each book and cranny of her bedroom, like the lunatic she seemed to always be. She could just picture the stuck-up expression she had on, nose upturned and eyes narrowed into slits.. but that doesn’t exist here, remember? The rabbit that suspiciously resembled Regina George reminded her airily, she nodded dazedly in her dream. She doesn’t even go here.

“Why would I have your hair dryer?”

“Just give it, you freak! I need it!”

“I told you, I don’t have the bloody hairdryer. I don’t even use it, I’m a hairdryer virgin,” she groaned, eyes squeezed shut as she struggled to cling to the remnants of her dream, but the giant rabbit/Regina George was waving goodbye with a blank expression..

A pillow hit her head.

“Go away,” she bemoaned, her hand emerging from the covers to wave her sister off in a ‘shoo’ motion. Sundays were days that were supposed to be safe from sisterly intervention. “Come back tomorrow... Even the post stops on Sundays.”

“Neither rain, sleet, or snow,” Anna stated, with way too much pride.

“We don’t live in America,” Y/N whispered, a brief, awkward pause following, before Anna cleared her throat. Thank goodness for that, Y/N thought to herself, snuggling further into the linen sheets: otherwise we’d go bankrupt, treating Anna’s chronic lunacy, expensive health care, and all...

“Whatever. Now give me—“

“Did you check under your bed?”

Anna did not speak, the fading sound of her footsteps indicating she was finally skittering out of Y/N’s room. She closed her eyes immediately, resuming the dream of bunnies, and rice, and perhaps, Barack Obama...

Slam! Thwack!

The sounds of Anna opening and closing drawers and Y/N’s wardrobe, caused the sleeping girl to jolt upwards in her bed, eyeing her loony sister blearily with her hair a bird’s nest and mouth dry, but a bit sweet from the chocolate she’d religiously inhaled at three in the morning.

“Wha’sa matter,” she spluttered, a helplessness of sorts festering in her chest at the sight of her sister pulling out one skirt after the other, holding it against her legs and inspecting her tall, skinny figure in the mirror and then dropping the articles of clothing onto the ground. Y/N watched, mouth opening and closing in unspeakable outrage as her floor filled up with a heap of clothing in seconds.

“I need a skirt,” she said matter-of-factly, not even pausing or seeming the slightest bit out of her element. She huffed and threw her another skirt she had deemed mediocre, down onto the hardwood floor. “Mine got wet.”

She moved slightly in her bed, craning her neck uncomfortably to eye the small splotch on Anna’s denim mini-skirt. She squinted. Water.

“Why can’t you get one from your own closet? It’s just water, it’ll dry—“

“My clothes are all in the wash,” she answered impatiently, flinging a top across the room. “Do you have anything remotely fashionable in here?”

She scoffed, a little bit offended. It was summertime, and after being gone to university all year, it was refreshing to come back home for a break. A full wardrobe was awaiting for her, back at home when she returned, and she thought her clothes were comfortable, but also simultaneously fashionable. Irritation burned inside of her, but fizzled to nothing as her sister continued with her antics.

“Most of the skirts you’re trying on are your hand-me-downs.”

“They looked better on me,” Anna stated, finally fingering and then clutching a hot pink skirt that burned Y/N’s peripheral vision. She had given that skirt to her on her sixteenth birthday, a few years back. She could barely bend, without it revealing her chamber of secrets. “Besides, I have a date with Phillipe.”

“Anne, we’ve talked about this. I don’t think you should count sitting with your friends in the diner he’s eating at, and following him across town, dating. That goes by the name of stalking.”

Anna rolled her eyes, glimpsing at her reflection in the mirror in slight satisfaction, but Y/N had learned that her sister was never fully satisfied with anything. She patted her sleek platinum blonde hair down.

She made her way out of Y/N’s room, her delicate feet moving along steadily, not a tremor in her step. She was the very epitome of grace.

“Whatever, freak. Get up. Mum’s been calling you for ages; it’s twelve in the afternoon.”

Y/N pulled herself out of bed, stretching her back out. There was no point in laying in her bed anymore. Anna had scared Regina George rabbit away. She rubbed her eyes, and as soon as her feet touched the floor, she stumbled.

“Meow,” Harry, her cat, called, affectionately rubbing his small, furry face against her bare arm as she sighed, laying in a pool of clumsy limbs and disappointment.

“Y/N,” Her mother’s voice came echoing up the stairwell, an edge of warning colouring her tone. “Come downstairs.”

“Just coming, mum,” she called back. She adopted a softer tone, picking up the cat and holding him to her chest as he slowly blinked at her. “Morning, Harry.”

She threw a toy mouse down the stairs, and he leapt out of her arms, chasing the prey. He swiveled his bottom for five seconds, pounced, and then proceeded to miss a step and roll down the stairs, pupils dilated as he screamed and slowly sunk to the floor, claws extended in futile attempt.

Shaking her head, she quickly made her way to the washroom, finishing brushing her teeth and peeing in record time.

“Harry,” she scolded lightly, as the cat chose to lounge on the stair steps, right as she began to come down. He blinked at her, rolling over and purring playfully. She rubbed her foot against his face and quickly hopped down before he could begin playing with her toes. The sound of the television playing the morning news and the quiet rustling of the newspaper as her father did the crossword flittered into her conscience, along with the scent of her mother’s coffee and whatever influencer inspired (laxative) tea Anna had left brewing in the kitchen.

“Morning, baby bear,” her father, Mark Y/L/N, called, gazing at her amusedly from under half moon spectacles as he pretended to read the paper in the living room, and her mother hushedly remarked on how her and her father led unhealthy lives from the kitchen, across the hall. She smiled, crossing the distance and sitting beside him.

“Morning, Dad,” she chirped, snuggling into her father’s side, him affectionately kissing her cheek. “What’s mum up to?”

“She’s making breakfast. Or brunch, if you’re one to believe in the concept of linear time,” her mother rattled off sarcastically, Y/N wincing in retaliation. She looked at her sharply, but there was a hidden warmth in her eyes that told her that she didn’t really mind.

“Sorry, mum,” she said sheepishly, smiling cheekily as her mother simply shook her head in disbelief and grabbed the car keys. Y/N noticed her parents were both clad in outdoor wear. “Where’re you guys going?”

“Grocery shopping. We have to buy food for our road trip to the lake house; not that we’ll end up buying food, anyway. We will end up purchasing that processed garbage you and your father stuff into your bodies.”

She giggled as her father rolled his eyes in amusement, before winking at her over the paper. They both shared the same sweet tooth and loathing of the surplus of vegetables and other herbivore foods that they were constantly forced to consume by her mother and Anna. Those two were total health freaks. Anna even was a germaphobe and avoided anything greasy, as if it were the plague. Y/N and her dad, however, found ways to hide their secret stash of junk food around the house, and find salvation in it at three in the morning.

“You only get one body, Y/N,” her mother stated broodingly. The girl in question nodded seriously, before leaning over her father’s crossword and grabbing a pen. She began to scrawl: Buy those small, multipack chocolate bars. John nodded. Of course, he wrote back. “Come eat something and then do the dishes.”

She complied, making her way over to sit in a breakfast chair and eat forkfuls of omelette as the morning news played and her mother sipped her coffee, browsing Facebook next to her.

“Are you almost done packing for our trip?”

“Yeah,” Y/N answered, spreading organic strawberry jam over some toasted bread. “Anna’s been a bit distracting, but I’m almost finished.”

“I heard you and Anna,” her mother said before she sighed. “I wish you two girls would try a little harder to get along. You two used to be so close.”

“Mum,” her voice was muffled, but still protesting through a mouthful of cooked egg. She had this conversation at least once a week. “You know that’s never going to happen.”

Her and Anna had never been quite close— well, that wasn’t exactly correct. They were close from the moment Y/N had been born right up to when she had been accepted into a gifted school Anna had not gotten into. From that moment, her favourite person’s affections had suddenly ended. Instead, Anna grew colder to her younger sister: refusing to play with or breathe in the same room as her; calling her cruel names, that although were deemed silly by Y/N, still pricked somewhere deep inside, even years later.

The two girls were so different, Y/N often questioned if she had been switched at birth, or if they even had similar DNA. From her tamed platinum blonde hair, to the way she wore her make up immaculately, every single day, without fail. It didn’t matter how sick or feverish Anna Y/L/N was, she was always very together. She ate the right things, wore the right clothes, networked with the right people. Hell, she even made sure to blow her nose into the right tissues. Up at five o clock, hitting the gym or spa with her giggling posse. Unquestionably organized, prepared, and always trying to exceed expectations. Y/N, however, couldn’t care less of most of the things Anna devoted most of her time and effort to. This reflected in her comparatively smaller and less consistent group of friends, her curvier figure, and—something that bothered Anna most to no end— her often chewed, dirt encrusted fingernails. But with her uncontrollable hair and endless source of energy, she had a fierce determination and a passion in every breath she took that many girls her age lacked.

All things considered, it was not very surprising that their two strong, different personalities clashed. It wasn’t surprising that they didn’t see eye to eye.

At the mention of her sister, Y/N’s stomach growled with the intensity of a small earthquake; the sound of which caused Harry, who had taken to resting on the chair beside hers, to lift his head up in alarm.

Fighting and interacting with Anna made Y/N hungry, she realized. Without another word, she placed another piece of toast over the one slathered thickly with raspberry jam, and bit into her new sandwich.

Choosing to ignore her daughter’s bleak response, albeit with an eye roll, Marie placed the jar of jam back inside of the pantry.

“Just make sure your suitcase is ready to go,” she told her pointedly. “You aren’t very organized. I want us to drive up to the lake house early, this year. Traffic can be terrible, now that it’s summer break and all.”

Every year, the Y/L/Ns drove their way to their cabin by the lake. And every year, Marie Y/L/N spoke of driving up to the lake house early, when they all internally knew that they’d be lucky if they made it there by nightfall. There, they stayed for one week. It was the highlight of Y/N’s summer: she loved feeling the wind against her back, going fishing and playing soccer with her father in an open field, and just spending time freely in the nature. Anna despised the getaway, always trying to make excuses that may get her out of ruining her shoes in the grass or getting a bit dirty.

“Mmphkay,” she replied through a mouthful of jam. She placed her sandwich down onto a plate, and sauntered lazily into the living room. She flopped down on an empty couch and twiddled with the remote, pushing buttons and changing the channel to some boring, English news channel. She would have skipped past it, but something caught her eye and— sort of— her interest, as well.. The words that stood out first in the headline below the reporter speaking animatedly onto the TV screen were: “Modest Management” and “Public Humiliation”. Serves them right, she thought to herself in satisfaction. That company was bonkers. She felt a brief flame of joy, which was instantaneously blown out once four faces appeared on the screen. Four equally infuriating faces. Ones that sent her blood curdling in hot frustration. She gripped the television remote harder.

“You may be familiar with One Direction for their catchy songs, bestselling albums, breathtaking tours, and devilish good looks— or simply their irresistible charm and charisma,” said the reporter, practically swooning as clips of the four boys signing body parts, walking around with models during PR stunts, singing, and following other rockstar protocol played. “And if you aren’t— you must be living under a rock!”

“Someone needs to hit your head with a rock,” Y/N muttered darkly. Unintentionally, her grip on her sandwich also tightened to a squeezing point, until raspberry jam came oozing out of the grainy barrier.

In her rage, she had failed to notice her mother’s sudden presence in the living room, where she leaned in and cast a look at the television with mild interest, just as a particularly curly haired member smirked into the camera. Y/N noticed her as her voice traveled from the doorway.

“Isn’t that the boy Anna likes?”

“Likes?” She shook her head cynically with distaste at the wild understatement. “Worships. Acts likes he’s a bloody spiritual entity, mom.”

“Language,” Marie cautioned distractedly, already ignoring the cynicism of Y/N’s comments and slipping out the doorway. Then, much to Y/N’s horror, she called for up the stairs, “Anna! That boy you like is on TV, again!”

Y/N’s eyes widened in horror. “No.. no, don’t call her down! she’ll—“

“OUT OF MY WAY.”

CRASH. BANG.

Before Y/N could take another breath or sound the slightest syllable, Anna Y/L/N came bounding down the stairs with startling fervour and acceleration. Her speed challenged those of athletes drugged up on steroids. Her determination was akin to great leaders fighting for change.

“ONE DIRECTION,” she squacked, flying off the banister in record time. Y/N was sure that her older sister was in a trance. Glazed eyes, biting her lip. Her parents were unfazed, used to Anna’s unhealthy obsession.

She bolted past the kitchen, into the living room, and down on the ground, gravitating to her one and only ‘beloved’ and ignoring everyone else in her wake. She was now salivating over the television screen, after wrestling the remote out of Y/N’s hands and turning up the volume to a deafening pitch— in a matter of seconds. She was a fangirl; The distant sound of glass shattering and animals whimpering could be heard as Anna’s esophagus released a sound so high-pitched, it was at a volume mankind had yet to discover.

They were currently showing clips of One Direction’s latest gigs; two of the boys were strumming guitars and groping each other whilst running around stage, the idiots looking like rabbits on crack. A third was abusing a drum set, further downstage, while the final member was swaying girlishly and shook his tambourine like it was some fine art.

“Look, it’s your crush,” she muttered as the same green eyed curly haired face that lined Anna’s bedroom walls filled the television screen.

“Harry!” Anna squealed, physically throwing her body over Y/N, and knocking her sandwich to the ground, in the process. Y/N fumed, steam practically blowing from her ears and face heatening as Anna eyed the band member widely with all of the stupid admiration in the world. She even let out a dreamy sigh. “Oh, Harry. One day you’ll know we’re meant to be together. I can’t wait for that day.”

“Good,” she growled through gritted teeth, attempting and failing to control her rising temper as she gathered the crumbly remains of her morning snack from the stained shirt. “Then you can go marry him, take all his money, and BUY ME A NEW SANDWICH.”

Anna turned to fix a very serious expression towards her younger sister. In a momentary loss of judgement, Y/N actually had enough hope in her sister’s sanity and enough belief in her logic that she had the inkling of a thought that maybe, just maybe, she was on the brink of apologizing; instead, all she did was provide further evidence of her unstable state of delusion: “you may joke about it now, Y/N,” she said, somehow managing to keep a stoic, straight face, “but you won’t be laughing, when we do get married.”

“Yes, I will, actually,” she protested gleefully, with the biggest smile, showing all of her teeth. “I’ll be laughing when you have him handcuffed, tied to the altar, and held at gunpoint while he nervously recites the vows you stole from your favorite fanfic.”

“Shhhh,” she replied, waving her off and leaning forward. Anna might as well have been hyperventilating, kneeling before the television with unblinking eyes as the band member ran his hand through his messy head of curls. Y/N thought she heard her chanting mine, mine, mine under her breath. She gagged as Anna began to swoon, when a clip of him grabbing his crotch on stage was featured. Much to her dismay, the band members of One Direction were replaced by a team of stoic looking business people, a middle aged, bald man caught in the middle, wearing a grim, borderline threatening expression— as if everything hadn’t gone his way.

It was the creator of Modest Management, Vladimir De Montgomery. He was by definition a Russian Business tycoon, a multimillionaire with rapidly increasing power, wealth, and influence. The man Y/N despised more than One Direction and their pathetic music. He had created a business that slowly, but surely had developed entire lines of superstores and outlets that wiped out small businesses and caused irreversible harm to the environment. Montgomery was a silent killer, and Y/N hated him for it. He was on the quest for world domination. Perhaps she was exaggerating a bit, but in her mind, Vladimir De Montgomery might as well have been wearing horns and dancing naked with an inflamed pitchfork.

“However, the nation’s golden boys—“ Y/N rolled her eyes at the titles, “are nowhere to be found. It is no surprise that Montgomery, although wealthy, is not very popular. In order to enhance his business and bring in more people, Modest Management arranged for One Direction, the boy band they are contractually responsible for, to play at their newest Departmental store. However, fans were devastated once the band failed to show up. This left Montgomery humiliated, with a population of hundreds of guests, who had shown up only to see the band, which is currently M.I.A. Sources claim that Vladimir Montgomery reacted angrily at the band’s absence, and the agents and publicists of the band refuse to leave a comment, seemingly without knowledge of the whereabouts of the boy band members, as well. The verdict is unclear. No one has disclosed or holds knowledge of the whereabouts of these four talented musicians. The stage is empty, and from the look of things: It seems like we have a boy band on the run.”

The news story had ended, instead switching over to a slideshow filled with black and white pictures of the band members laughing and singing and flexing. Y/N felt amazed by the amount of bullshit that could be accumulated for these things, once eerie, sad background music began to play. Anna was blinking stupidly at the television screen, before she let out an ear-splitting shriek, one which caused her sister to jump in fright.

“Calm down,” she grumbled.

“Calm down—“ Anna gaped, bugging her eyes out to make it seem like Y/N was the lunatic in the household. “Calm down?”

“Or not,” she muttered.

“How could they just ABANDON their fans like that?”

“Are you kidding? Standing up Montgomery and Modest is, like, the one sensible thing they’ve done in their entire, laughable careers.”

Anna stood up, shooting Y/N an ugly death glare. “Like you would understand.” Then she was making an exit and coolly stomping up the stairs. “This is a CRISIS,” she bemoaned from the top floor, followed by the sound of her door slamming shut.

When she glanced back at the screen, Y/N couldn’t help, but feel a small flicker of admiration for what the four band members had done. Then, he’d face grew ashen as she recalled how they were pompous, egotistical assholes, and flicked the off button on the remote, just as a black and white picture of Niall Horan eating a drumstick while wearing a tutu floated mournfully on screen.

“Where could they be?”

—

Somewhere in the outskirts of a small English town, a beast howled. The four teenagers inside of the ratty, broken down minivan sighed.

“Shut up, Niall,” the darker haired member hissed. “Your stomach’s been growling like that for ages.”

“Because I haven’t been fed for ages. Feed me, Louis.”

“You literally ordered and ate everything off of that Nando’s driveway menu we passed by. And you brought leftovers, and finished ours as well as yours,” the bronzy, spiky haired member shook his head in a mixture of disbelief and exasperation. “How could you possibly still be hungry?”

“I just am..” the blonde trailed off, patting his stomach almost proudly. Louis tossed a bag of baby carrots at his face, and he opened the ziplock bag and began to happily munch.

“What the fuck is this, anyway?” Louis gestured dramatically at the dingy vehicle they were currently stuck in. Niall nibbled happily.

“Princess,” Zayn muttered, leaning back into his seat with crossed arms, using a content Niall as his human shield from the dangerously flashing eyes of Louis Tomlinson. The band member driving the car rolled his eyes from under the shades covering them, and the beanie holding in his thick waves of hair. The one hand he had easy over the steering wheel tightened.

“You wanna say that to my face?”

“Sure, Niall’s too fat for you to get to me, anyway.”

“HEY—“

“This,” Harry stresses, pinching his nose in exasperation, closing his eyes for a second, before carrying on with the reminder. “This is a revolution, remember, Louis? Whatever bullshit you used to say about the people revolting after the government being unable to represent them anymore, and how Modest was our government— think of that. Please, just go to your happy place.”

Louis grumbled, and then began chanting something along the lines of “revolution and happy, anarchist society” under his breath with his eyes squeezed shut, his lips forming into a light smile. “I love me some anarchy.”

“It shows,” Zayn muttered, causing Louis to shoot him a glare and position his fists to his face, aiming for a punch. At a last resort, Zayn pushed the Irish boy who’d lost his previous grudge in heaps of chicken, in front of him. The fist hit his stomach. Zayn roared with laughter. Niall whimpered. Louis crossly looked out the window, eyes boredly running over the landscape of cows and grass and manure, and then a really ugly ass barn. Louis’s nose scrunched up at the mere sight of the hideous structure, broken down in some places, erosion running its course in other.

“That is the fugliest thing my beautiful eyes have ever rested on.”

Zayn scoffed. Then, his eyes widened, at the same time the car flew back as Harry stepped on the brakes.

“Barn!”

Louis’s eyes shot into terror filled consciousness.

“Oh, sweet baby Jesus...”

—

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

Niall’s tone was positively murderous as he stared at the decrepit barn in front of him, horror-struck.

Harry rubbed at his temple, tiredly. They all stared in silence from their car windows, at the tired looking barn. The car they were in was going to die any second now, and they were in the middle of nowhere. Yeah, it was pretty shitty, but he knew it was their best option, at this point. “Got a better idea?” he questioned flatly.

“Yeah, how about let’s not lay in animal shit?”

Three of them were now against the idea. Niall was shaking his head, now full of both hicken, and disbelief. Louis looked pale. Zayn looked a bit put off by the idea, too. Louis squinted, pulling down the windows manually.

“And where do you suppose we sleep?” He spat, scrunching nose and waving at the foul air dramatically. “Bloody hell, what is that?”

“It’s either hay for a little while, or being abducted by those crazy psychopaths. Pick your poison. It isn’t even that bad.”

—

“No.”

“But—“

“No.”

“Loui—“

“No.”

They were all out on the field, just metres away from the barn after parking their car somewhere further from the landscape and walking, so they wouldn’t be traced in any way. Niall was clutching his packet of chicken tenderly to his heart, a frown playing on his lips, Zayn wore a deadpan expression, Harry looked exasperated. And then there was Louis, practically on the verge of tears, his foot elevated in a slick pile of cow manure.

“Come on,” Harry urged through gritted teeth, voice growing lower and dangerously teetering towards tranquilizing Louis and sending him hurtling into the barn via T-Shirt cannon. The tone by which he spoke seemed to have struck a chord with Louis, for the dark haired boy’s lips trembled. After a few short seconds, a breathy sound escaped from the back of his neck.

“Er,” Niall sounded helplessly, shoving his hand into the grease splotched brown paper bag and successfully retrieving a half-eaten fried drumstick. He held it in front of Louis’s face. “Chicken?”

Louis took one, long look at the deep-fried mutilated chicken body part, and then his designer, new running shoes, lathered with cow shit, and his face crumpled and he promptly burst into tears.

“I wanna go home,” he sobbed brokenly, Niall fumbling for a handkerchief, but failing to find one, causing Louis to simply grab Zayn’s hoodie-clad arm and blow sorrowfully into it. “I want to—“

“Alright,” Harry spoke, looking over Louis and instead at the farm. He would commit a murder, if he had to hold onto the weight of most of their essential belongings and Louis’s luxurious hair products in an overpacked knapsack in the overbearing heat for even a minute longer. It was getting dark. “Let’s go.”

Zayn moved in the direction of the crimson coloured, off-white framed wooden barn, immediately. In fact, he sprinted, creating more distance between Louis and himself. Niall shrugged, popping the drumstick into his own mouth while taking a casual stroll inside. Harry glanced toward Louis, who made a pitiful noise. Shaking his head in disbelief, he jogged into the barn.

Mutilated was the right way to describe the barn, if it wasn’t already beyond description. Mutilated beyond measure. Everything was either rotten, rotting, or about to rot. There was hay in the back, and an upper tier that was collapsed in some places, sharp edges of wood broken down. However, it had a roof, and a gate that slid shut. It was also in the middle of nowhere, both a comforting and terrifying thought.

“Definitely abandoned.”

“No intruders,” Zayn said weakly. “No one would think to find us here.”

Niall walked a bit further inside, stepping on the hay while trying to figure out where to crash for the night. While he moved, something made a squelching noise, under his foot. Everyone collectively winced.

The three young men stood in part analytical, and part defeated silence.

“Dibs on that stack of hay,” Niall suddenly shouted, running for and leaping onto a stack, and landing with a soft thud. This caused them all to break into genuine laughter, at this and all they’d been through.

After that, it was easier to get settled in. They all claimed stacks of hay to sleep on, rating them on durability (likeliness that it wouldn’t collapse on them), softness, and location furthest from where the barn was warmest in the scalding heat. Now that they’d taken off and changed their clothes in the alleged locker room area, and relieved themselves in the randomly placed portable bathroom smack dab in the middle of the field, things were running smoothly. Niall even left out some of the food he’d brought to share. Things were harmonious.

After a while, their eyes turned to Louis, who had just stepped into the barn and was looking quite unsure of himself.

“I have candles,” he voiced. He explained: “To help with the ghastly smell.”

Harry rolled his eyes in faint amusement. “You get the unstable stack of hay at the top-pier, mate. And no complaining. This is home.”

“Yeah,” Niall sighed, cuddling further into his stack of hay. He was becoming immune to the smell, quite quickly. “Home, sweet home.”

For a moment, Harry’s eyes were drawn a small pile of childish belongings resting at the very corner of the barn: dolls fashioned from sticks stuck together with vines, paper drawings, candy wrappers, and a faded tiara, snapped in half. His eyebrows pinched together in curiosity and alarm, but he reminded himself no one could possibly be nearby. He wandered off to help build a table of sorts.

Then, the four young rockstars fell onto their soft stacks of hay, content under the cool beeeze the merciful summer air had blown their way. They slept under the thinly veined stars, shining with brilliance, viably from under the cracks of the eroding, crimson barn. They faded into sleep with full stomachs and, at least temporarily, satisfied minds, knowing they were alone, out of reach from the rest of the world.

They thought so, anyway. Oblivious to the house hidden behind a thick thatch of vines, trees, and greenery, inhabited by a family unit comprised of a mother, a father, and the most obsessive girl the world had encountered, accompanied by the fiercest.

For now, they’d sleep. Until Niall would eventually wake them all in the middle of the night with a girlish shriek, frightened by some stick he claimed was a sword, anyway.

—

Anna hadn’t descended down from the closed parameters of her room, all evening.

Even after every coax, beg, and eventual scold (from their mother), she remained adamant, staying up in her room and grieving the loss of four random boys who’d somehow gotten lost. It was nearing night, when she’d finally come down, just in time for dinner after Marie had practically pushed her down the stairs, and then into her chair.

For dinner, they’d had some salad or whatever that Anna usually liked, but today she just scraped her fork against the plate, causing sharp, screeching noises doing nothing to console Y/N’s already heightening frustration at the leaves they were consuming for dinner. Dinner was supposed to be a meal, wasn’t it? Meals were supposed to make you happy. She thought of the time Harry had gotten lost, how Anna hadn’t done so much as paste a poster. Now, she was practically fasting for these strange rich people, in grief.

Now, it was nearing midnight, and Y/N was slowly tiptoeing down the stairs, stomach grumbling and making obscene sounds, due to the dissatisfying meal she’d pushed down her throat. She yawned, rubbed at her eyes and tied to think of what to eat to satisfy the hungry ache in her stomach that was boring a hole through her soul. Then, the sound of plastic crinkling sounded through the room, and she froze. The lights were all shut, the halls all enveloped in darkness.

She tiptoed further, stopping and holding her breath when she spotted the closed walk-in closet in their hall, lit up from the inside. She pursed her lips, moved forward, then swung the door open.

All of a sudden, the man made quick moves to haphazardly close whatever packet he was eating from. A sharp squeak came out of his mouth, and Y/N relaxed. It was her father. In a rather comedic stance, really. Clutching a packet of crisps to his chest, mouth stuffed full. His eyes were wide with fright, resembling a deer in the headlights. He swallowed, relaxing some when he noticed it was Y/N.

“Oh, Y/N, I thought you were your mother,” he outstretched the packet of crisps as a sort of offering, pulling it from where they kept their secret stash of what they liked to call ‘real food.’ “I should’ve known. You’ve always had an amazing radar for junk food.”

“Gimme,” she squealed, launching herself forward and grabbing fistfuls of greasy chips, not minding as they crumbled into her mouth. She closed her eyes. Her stomach cried with gratitude, she saw the colours of freedom. “Mmm.. saturated fat,” she moaned, reaching for another handful.

Mark laughed and his eyes—so much like Y/N’s— lit up, giving his face a boyish glow. “Save some for later,” he advised, prying the packer away from his daughter’s greedy hands. “Your mother’s making boiled tofu, again, tomorrow.”

“Ew, barf,” said Y/N, scrunching her face up in disgust.

Mark chuckled and ruffled her hair affectionately. “That’s my girl.”

Later that night, Y/N ventured out to leave the cat food and water, and at the same time, by some divine coincidence (Marie Y/L/N’s bullying), Anna was also sent to throw away the recycling and trash. This was her fault, anyway. She’d complained that Harry shouldn’t eat his ‘meaty slimy food’ in the same room where they all ate. So, their mother, a typical Anna-pleaser, had shifted the cat’s food and water dishes outdoors, by the shed. Y/N obviously found this a very unjust thing to do. Would it be fine if she protested against Petunia clipping her toe nails in the same washroom she showered in? No. but Harry didn’t mind it. He ate, drank his water, and rolled around in the grass for a while, afterwards.

Y/N and Anna walked for a while in complete, awkward silence, her sister clutching a handful of trash bags, and her the cat food with Harry meowing in tow, leaping around, and begging for food. The garbage bins were located right next to the shed, so that was even worse. Y/N hadn’t trusted her sister with throwing out the garbage after an incident four years back involving Y/N, Anna’s surprising lifting and throwing strength, and, well.. a garbage bag. So, she kept at a distance. She hoped they could get through this whole little excursion without exchanging a word, which would honestly probably be better off for the both of them. However, Anna couldn’t seem to hold it in the moment Y/N pulled back the metal strip, opening the canned salmon to put into Harry’s food bowl. Anna sniffed disgustedly and complained, “Ew, gross! That’s disgusting, get that stuff away from me!” Although she wasn’t even near her.

Naturally, Y/N couldn’t not smirk. She immediately pulled the lid right off the salmon, then casually strolled upto her sister. “No, seriously, it smells great! Try some,” she held it under Anna’s nose, and her expression went from irritated to downright petrified.

She screamed, swatting at the can, causing the contents of pink salmon to run down Y/N’s tank top, staining it. “Great,” she said. “Now, you’ve ruined two of my shirts, and Harry has to eat dry food.”

“Serves you both right,” Anna huffed, walking to the garbage bins.

By the time she had fetched the dry food and poured it into Harry’s bowl—which caused him to stare at her, hard, for a very long time, questioning why there was only kibble in his bowl— Anna was still cautiously and very slowly throwing away the trash, gingerly dropping each bag, every now and then, keeping a safe distance from the bin. Y/N started to walk back, and it was a fair jaunt, with their property being so big. She heard the trash bin finally shut, and Anna let out a little yelp, presuming it was from the waft of ‘garbage air.’

Y/N rolled her eyes. As she did this, she caught a glimpse of something at the far end of the property. Across the field, behind a couple of fir trees, was the old barn house, neglected over the past decade or so and half-deteriorated by years of harsh weather and a lack of maintenance. Y/N hadn't visited the barn since she was very, very young. Even then, it had been a blend intrigue and fascination that drew her to it, a temporary fixation to satisfy her curiosity. She'd taken Anna back there, one summer's night, lured her in, closed the door on her and run back to the house. Apparently, Anna didn't have very good navigational skills in the dark, because she hadn't been able to get out until she'd been retrieved by her father and carried back in tears. Y/N was grounded for three weeks. Anna was scarred for life.

Needless to say, nobody had ventured back to the barn ever since.

So it was strange, now, that as Y/N glanced inadvertently in that direction, she saw a miniscule light shining at the back of the field.

She stopped in her tracks and narrowed her eyes, wondering if she was hallucinating. Nope, it was definitely there. A shudder swept through her at the sight of it, but at the same time, she was fascinated. Just like when she was a child, she felt drawn toward the barn by an eerie sort of curiosity. It was almost pitch black out by now, but really, how dangerous could it possibly be? Without giving it another thought, Y/N deposited the water bottle she'd used to fill Harry's dish and began to walk purposefully in the direction of the mysterious light.

"Wh-where are you going?" Anna asked suddenly. In her voice was a combination of annoyance and anxiety; annoyance at the fact that Y/N was doing something strange and impulsive, and anxiety originating from the fact that Y/N was going for a stroll while leaving Anna in the vastness of their yard, in the pitch-black, with nothing, but a plastic recycling box.

"As if it concerns you," Y/N said dully.

"You can't just leave me here alone!" Anna voice was so high-pitched, it was like listening to nails scratching ballistically at a chalkboard. Y/N cringed and was forced to stop once again.

She swivelled around, made a duh sort of face at Anna, and said, "Well then, you're going to have to come with me, aren't you?"

As expected, Anna froze up and adamantly shook her head. "Uh, no way. Never."

Y/N turned around exasperatedly and continued to saunter across the field. "Then, for goodness' sake, Anna, shut up." She quickened her pace.

A couple of seconds went by, and then, as predicted...

"Wait!"

Anna hurried along behind her; evidently, her fear of being alone in the dark had won out over her reluctance to visit that place again. Y/N couldn't say she hadn't expected for this to happen, but she wasn't particularly over the moon at having acquired a companion. Anna, being said ally. As they crossed the darkened field, drawn toward the light in the corner, her sister jumped at the tiniest of noises, kept glancing around as if something was about to jump out at her at any moment, and, at one point, actually grabbed onto the back of Y/N’s shirt in her panic, pulling at it viciously with her perfectly manicured claws.

“I swear, Anna, if you ruin this one, too,” Y/N hissed. She liked this shirt. It was a dark blue Rolling Stones one, that led down to her mid thighs and was super soft.

"This is a really bad idea," Anna hissed, Y/N rolling her eyes as she completely ignored her threat. She seemed to be getting more antsy as they approached the closest tree to the barn. Her eyes darted across the field, then to the barn, then to Y/N. "You're not just going to lock me in there again, a-?"

Y/N shushed her impatiently and dragged her behind the tree. She was focused on the voices she'd just picked up on, drifting toward them from inside the dilapidated building. There was the unmistakable sound of male laughter, the occasional girlish whimper, and one voice that was deeper than all the others, speaking in a slow, spine-chilling monotone.

Resembling one of the more placid, fearful voices in the barn, Anna whimpered. "I told you this was a bad idea!" she whispered. "You're going to get us murdered! Who knows what could be in there - it's probably a serial killer on the run, or a monster, or a serial killing monster-"

Y/N had had enough. She pivoted on her heel, slapped a hand over her sister's open mouth, and fixed her with a harsh, patronizing look. She tried to keep her voice low, but it was difficult to suppress her rising anger. "Shut your goddamn mouth, Anna, or I swear, I will put you out there as bait. Do you understand?"

Wide-eyed and stunned into sheer silence, Anna nodded hurriedly. Y/N yanked her hand away and gave the barn one last glance from her lookout point before stepping out from behind the tree and beginning to walk quickly with padded feet, across the remaining stretch of lawn.

She could now pick up on distinct pieces of conversation emanating from the barn.

"And then the werewolf creeps up behind the unsuspecting traveller, and... BANG!" Somebody shrieked at this; next to Y/N, Anna jumped. "Snaps his neck!"

"Oooh, I'm scared," said another voice mockingly. "Honestly, these stories suck. Where did you get them from - Nialler’s bedtime story collection?"

Y/N didn't hear anymore, because Anna had begun to tug urgently on her arm.

"What?" she hissed.

For once, Anna showed some damn common sense and kept her voice lower. Her eyes, however, told Y/N that she would have spoken much louder, had they not been in such a situation. "I know that voice!" she whispered excitedly. "I would know that voice anywhere!"

Y/N shot her a confused look, but decided not to ask questions. Anna wasn’t exactly in the right state of mind, childhood trauma and all. Instead, she took the final few steps that led her to the barn door, reached out tentatively for the handle...

...And, in one fluid motion, threw the door open.

The voices stopped abruptly.

Anna let out an ear-splitting shriek.

Four boys sat completely still in the centre of the barn, their faces frozen in various expressions. They were gathered together on a cluster of hay bales; one, with shaggy black hair, held a flashlight to his chin and had his mouth open in shock. To his left, a rather blonde boy looked scared out of his mind, and the other two wore similar looks of horror, as if they'd been caught in some despicable act.

But they hadn't done anything terribly wrong. What had caused Anna to scream - and Y/N to go still, completely rigid from head to toe - had been the mere sight of their four faces.

Four faces which were all startlingly familiar.

The members of One Direction.

To Be Continued...

MASTERLIST | Requests are open!

A/N:

*cracks knuckles* here i am again, with a series fic i may very likely never update. anywho XD this has been sitting in my drafts for a while, and it was quite grudging to type at some areas cause my fingers got tired, but i was supposed to study for an exam, and my procrastinating ass naturally flocked here. lemme know what you think. i love hearing from my jared 19s :)

[rjalker]

The home-made live catch trap I used to catch three out of the four feral cats that were coming onto our porch five years ago now. The other one I caught just by putting out a cat carrier and using a broom to close the door after she went in, lol.

This one requires at least one person to man it, since you have to manually close the trap, but I’m sure some clever person could figure out a way to get it automatic.

This is what I did, but this is far from the only way to do it. If you can make your own, do so! Just make sure you test it multiple times before you actually try to use it, a cat that gets caught once is going to be more wary of getting caught again. (which is one of the MAJOR downsides to TNR, even ignoring the fact that it doesn’t actually help the animals or the environment. It just makes it THAT MUCH HARDER for responsible people to trap the cats in the future. And yeah. TNR is irresponsible. You’re pulling a drowning person out of the water just so you can dry them off and patting yourself on the back and then shoving them right back in to keep on drowning. What the fuck.)

I might have actually pictures of this trap somewhere on my blog, but if I do, I didn’t tag them, so I can’t find them. 

Want to actually help feral and stray cats? Catch them, and either keep them, or bring them to a shelter where they can be adopted out. Get them to the vet, get them fixed, vaccinated, get them treatment for the parasites they’re pretty much guaranteed to have.

Outdoor cats are abused cats, they are suffering, and more importantly, in all honesty, they are killing native wildlife. The only way to help the cats and the wildlife is catching them and KEEPING THEM INSIDE for the rest of their lives. TNR does not fucking work and is completely irresponsible. You want to help cats? Don’t just feed them. Catch them. keep them, or bring them to a shelter. Don’t let them stay outside.

[flamestoflight]

candid.

this is a breaking point

i really have not been taking care of myself lately. i’ve been neglecting my physical health and my mental health to an extent that i haven’t done in years. everything is just happening so fast and all at once. graduation, a new job, a new city, a new apartment, a hard and painful breakup, an exciting new relationship, an upcoming trip, trying to get my licensure in order before I leave, dealing with all the new employee stuff.....it’s just a lot. it’s a hell of a lot. and i’ve been neglecting every aspect of caring for my physical and mental health for the past month.

it started after i finished my last rotation in early December. I was in the mindset of “fuck it, I’m finally done with school, I have 2 months until I start a real job, I’m just going to let loose and not care during this time period because it’s an opportunity i won’t have again.” And I was right about that, I will never have 2 months like this again. I will likely never even have a full week like this again - free to do whatever with my days, no 8 hours a day/5 days a week work. and at first it was in the name of mental and physical health. a rest from nonstop grinding for yearssssss. A rest from 4:30am alarms to get to the gym before work, of working 10 hours and then coming home and studying, of 5 hours of class followed by 3 hours of clinic followed by studying for my exam the next day, of meal prepping and skipping the dinner outing or the trip to the bar in the name of discipline, of working like an absolute dog to get to where I am. 

But it’s turned bad. It’s turned into a blatant neglect for my health. I’ve stopped taking my prescribed meds, I’ve stopped working out, I’ve stopped eating well....some days I don’t eat at all and others I eat like shit for every single meal. My weight has fluctuated like crazy these past 2 months, low to high to low to high. I honest to god cannot tell you the last time I had a fruit that wasn’t a garnish on a drink. I haven’t cooked for myself in 2 months. I haven’t eaten brown rice or quinoa or spinach or chia seeds or oats or literally any vegetable or fruit or anything that used to be a staple for me. 

I haven’t spent time outdoors. I haven’t read a book. I haven’t organized my space, I haven’t been washing my face, I haven’t had any semblance of a sleeping schedule. 

and to a certain extent, that’s okay. You know, that’s living life and that’s being flexible and adaptable and understanding that your life isn’t supposed to fit in a box and you aren’t supposed to be a solid mold. I understand all that, and in a way I am proud of my ability to break out of my routine time and time again, and choose friends and late nights and beer and a weekend trip out of town over rigidity and strictness and anything that I am used to.

But it’s gone too far and it has been for a few weeks now and I’m just ignoring the problem as if it’s going to go away. To be fair to me, I have been emotionally all over the place and gone through ups and downs that I never saw coming. and i’ve been trying to handle this emotional whirlwind, trying to handle the nighttime depression that has started creeping back in, trying to handle the couple of panic attacks i’ve induced over the past month, trying to handle my tendencies to use food as a weapon against myself, to use self-deprivation (water, sleep, vegetables, fresh air) as weapon against myself. Trying to handle the overwhelming pressure I feel to be good at my new job, with my fancy new degree at a fancy new hospital and not let everyone down and not let myself down. 

I kind of feel like I’ve lost myself a little bit. I haven’t been engaging in the things that have always been important to me. At least not the ones that only involve me. I’ve been very present in my relationship, present in my family life, present when it comes to making plans with friends. But I’ve lost the part of me that cares about the food she puts into her body, who respects her body and moves it every day, whether that be stretching and handstands or squatting and pressing or walking and hiking. I just haven’t been. 

Yesterday I went with my boyfriend to get his hair cut and he said it was going to be about an hour and for 5 minutes I sat in the car mindlessly scrolling through my phone and that’s how I was planning to pass the time....and I instantly started getting anxious and antsy. Because that’s not me, that’s not what I do. I got out of the car and walked a little less than a mile to the local library and grabbed myself a latte and perused some books, sat down at a table and opened one at random and started reading. I walked!! outside. and I read!! a book. while i sipped my latte. THAT is me. That’s what I do, that’s the Lauren that’s engaged in her life, engaged in her surroundings, takes care of her mental stimulation and moves her body a bit.

It’s very tough for me to be in this state of transition. Nothing is permanent right now, everything, everything is about to change. And in order to deal with the impending change and the stress that’s associated with it, I’ve become lost in the moment. (as a side note, I think that living in the moment is extremely important and valuable. I, however, have become completely lost in it...directionless, unsure, lacking confidence, losing myself kind of lost). And I want to change that. I need to change that.

this is a breaking point.

And this breaking point comes at a really unfortunate time. I’m leaving in 2 days to fly to Tanzania, I’ll be gone for 10 days total in the wilderness with zero semblance of routine and zero control over any of it. Two days after I come back, I drive to my new city and start the move-in process. I’ll be in Baltimore for 5 days, I’ll be back home for part of the next week where I’ll be trying to figure out how to get my stuff out of storage, how to get my furniture from my ex, how move into my own place...and also trying to cram in seeing my boyfriend who will have started classes and has more limited time. I have to figure out how ad when to get the cats to Baltimore, I have to figure out what furniture I need and how to get it, where to get it, how much I can afford to spend. I have so little control over anything the next 2 weeks, my opportunities to work out will be slim to none, my opportunities to cook for myself and meal prep will be slim to none, my opportunities to decide how much time I get to spend with the people I care about and those that give me comfort will be slim to none. 

but I can’t fight this breaking point anymore. It;s been a longggg time coming, and I’m almost relieved it’s here. Time to break out the journal, the planner, time to break out the attitude that gets shit done, time to break out the side of me that is fed up with my current bullshit and wants to be better. I can’t let this go forever. It’s grind time again. It’s time to sleep better, eat better, move better, treat other people better, engage more, work harder, get shit done. I cannot start my new job in this slump. I have to be on my A+ game from day one, out the gate. I have to show them why they hired me and what I can do for them. And that starts with reminding myself what I can do for myself. 

And there’s balance to all of this. I’m not done drinking wine or eating ice cream or taking rest days or choosing to live in the moment with others. I just need to find my balance again. Restore the scales back to where they were, restore myself back to where I was. Bring myself back from the brink that I have been standing on for weeks and weeks and weeks. It’s not easy, the opportunities in the next 3 weeks will not be handed to me. I will have to fight for every single one of them, and make it a priority. 

It starts tonight. It starts with getting my ass out of bed, drinking some water, making a salad for dinner, meal prepping some breakfast for tomorrow, getting to bed at a reasonable time. It continues tomorrow, when I get up at a reasonable time, get my ass to the gym, pack my bags for Tanzania, get all my travel documents in order, make the last purchases I need to make. Make my bed. Get outside. Take a fucking walk. Breathe some fresh air, read my book. 

I’ve always been an all or nothing person. The last month, taking care of myself has been off my radar, it’s been at nothing. Tonight I start to bring it back. I don’t want to go back to “all,” because I know that side of it isn’t good for me. I know what I can end up doing when I put my everything into “bettering myself” - I know that that pendulum swings waaay to fast and too hard in the other direction. I’m gonna play some video games tonight still, I’m gonna facetime my boyfriend tonight still, I’m going to probably have a small glass of wine tonight still. I’m just going to also do better, be better than I have for the past month. Better to myself and better to others. 

There is SO much I haven’t even covered in this post, but it’s a semblance of what I’ve been laying in bed for the past 3 hours thinking about. And it gets me going the way I need it to. I know what else is going on in my head, I know what else I need to address besides this ^. But this is a start. This is a breaking point. And even though I’m mentally tired and emotionally strained and physically under-nourished and dehydrated and my skin hates me and my body feels worn down and my motivation is close to zero....I’m walking headfirst into this.

My phoenix tattoo was inspired by a quote I saw: “in order to rise from its own ashes, a phoenix first must burn.” And at the time I got the tattoo there was a specific moment in mind, a specific time frame of my life that I was thinking of, I have come to realize that it can apply in many ways. I’m going to have a lot more downs in my life, I’m going to be burned in my life, I’m going to be reduced to ashes. But we rise up. That’s all we can do. We hit our bottom, we hit our breaking point, we gather ourselves, and we rise.

this is a breaking point. and i will rise.

[captainofthefallen]

OC Interview

Rules:

1. Choose an OC.

2. Answer as that OC.

3. Tag 5 people to do the same Open tag because you’re lazy 

So about six million years ago @queen-scribbles​ dropped me a tag on one of these in case I wanted to talk about a character and so I’m cashing in on that because I want to talk about Zeph (my wonderful amazing air genasi monk who deserves all the happiness in the world who I unintentionally cursed with anxiety worse than mine. Poor darling.) 

1. What is your name?

“Zeph.” She hesitates. “Okay fine technically it’s Zephyr but nobody I actually like calls me that. So if you want me to like you, don’t.” 

2. Do you know why are you named that?

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, because I’m an air genasi and the monks couldn’t think of anything better when I was dumped on them.” 

3. Are you single or taken?

Her annoyance melts instantly as she blushes and ducks her head, almost trying to hide her smile. “Um... taken. Much to my surprise.” 

4. Have any abilities or powers?

“Let’s see... good at punching things? I learned the other day I’m pretty good at hockey. I can levitate things, and sometimes I can blink into another plane if I can’t dodge something quickly enough.” She shrugs a little, almost bashful. 

[we spent the first hour of our last session playing fantasy hockey; Zeph was the goalie thanks to the monk’s deflect missiles ability. It was delightful. Also indirectly led to her getting asked out which was a plus.] 

5. Stop being a Mary Sue.

She raises her eyebrows. “I’m not sure if I should be flattered you think I’m perfect or insulted you think it’s unrealistic.” She laughs, then sobers. “Really though if you think I’m perfect you’re not looking hard enough.” 

6. What’s your eye color?

“Gray.”

7. How about your hair color?

“Silver, mostly. Think there’s some blue in there.”

8. Have any family members?

She shrugs dramatically. “Fuck if I know. None that I know of. Maybe my parents are dead, and maybe they just dumped me, but either way I guess it doesn’t matter.” 

9. Oh? How about pets? 

Her smile returns. “Well the party has our blink dog, Ptoast. Long story.” She turns around to look back toward the docks, where a water genasi is play wrestling a gnoll. “Cotton Eye Joe doesn’t count, he can talk.” 

[yes we adopted a gnoll. And we named him Cotton Eye Joe. Long story.]

10. That’s cool, I guess. Now, tell me something you don’t like?

“Wererats,” she says immediately. “Especially if they’re in a crime syndicate and frame people’s friends for enough crimes to get them thrown in jail for way too long. Also when people tell me I can’t do something.” 

11. Do you have any activities/hobbies that you like to do?

“Oh, loads. Pretty much anything I can get my hands on, really. Puzzles, cards, I think I could probably still juggle if I tried.” Her gaze shifts upward as she thinks. “Does fucking with Ptah count as a hobby?” (”Yes,” three voices respond immediately. “Fuck you!” adds a fourth.) “Guess so.” 

12. Have you ever hurt anyone in any way before?

She bites her lip. “Sure, I guess. Tends to happen when you get in fights. Got arrested for beating up a tabaxi in a bar once.” 

13. Ever… killed anyone before?

She nods. “Not... much. Some gnolls, some wererats, some weird mushroom things. People... not really easy to get used to that. Though there are a few I’d make exceptions for. And besides I’ve got an assassin and a... well, Ptah, for friends, they can handle it.” 

14. What kind of animal are you?

“Like, what animal would represent me? Some kind of cat, I think? Maybe a tiger. Gods help anyone who suggests I’m a bird.” 

15. Name your worst habits?

She laughs. “Oh boy. Well I overthink things. A lot. Somehow I also manage to be reckless sometimes. And I spend way too much time and effort trying to figure out what other people want from me.” She sighs. “Working on that one.” 

16. Do you look up to anyone at all?

“My friend Bright. Learned a lot from him. About the world, and about me. He’s about the closest thing I’ve got to family, I think. At least until I met these assholes.” 

17. Are you gay, straight or bisexual?

She inclines her head. “Think you missed a few options there, but I’m bisexual.” 

18. Did you attend school?

“Not in the traditional sense, no. I was educated in the monastery where I was raised.” 

19. Ever want to marry and have kids one day?

She laughs again. “Bold of you to assume I even know what I want to do next week.” She bites her lip. “I haven’t really thought about it. I guess I wouldn’t be opposed, but it doesn’t seem... I don’t know. I’m trying to live in the moment right now.” 

20. Do you have any fangirls/fanboys?

She grins. “Does my boyfriend count? I’m kidding. Um... not me specifically, I don’t think. There may be a few fans of our group, since we kind of stopped evil snake people from taking over the government, but I don’t think anyone would have much of a reason to be my fan.”

21. What are you most afraid of? 

She blinks a few times. “Being forgotten,” she says at last. “And... well. No. I think I’ll keep that one to myself.”

22. What do you usually wear?

She gestures to her clothing--flexible, dark-colored pants and a tank top, along with the wraps on her hands. She’s also wearing a dark cloak that sparkles just a bit when she moves. “It’s a cloak of protection,” she says. “Ptah gave it to me, to see how I’d react. I was very drunk at the time (and so was he, to be fair) so I’m a little hazy on the details, but...” She blushes faintly. “Anyway.” 

23. What’s one food that tempts you?

“I love pecan pie. Also, cookies and pastries and such in general are pretty great. Especially Ashyew’s reactions to them.” 

24. Am I annoying you?

She raises an eyebrow, smirking. “Are you trying to? Try harder.” 

25. Well, it’s still not over!

She smiles. “Full speed ahead, then.” 

26. What class are you (low/middle/high)?

She gives a bemused sort of grin. “That’s a very weird question right now. I guess financially we’d probably qualify as middle class at this point, but we were also recently given a villa, so.... No idea. I really have no idea.” 

27. How many friends do you have?

The smile stays. “One more than I thought I did a few days ago.” She thinks for a moment. “Brin and Bright, and Rhede, and the group, are the ones I’d call close friends. Kazimir and the others might qualify, to an extent, but seeing as I wasn’t even sure I was friends with Morana... so about eight.”

28. What are your thoughts on pie?

“Pie is amazing and wonderful. Do you have any?” She sighs. “Thought not. Worth a try.” 

29. Favorite drink?

“Hmm. Never really thought much about it. Alcohol is pretty much nasty, yet for some reason I still drink it.” 

30. What’s your favorite place?

“So far? Aargau. The dwarves have fucking indoor plumbing. And hockey. I really wish we could’ve stayed longer. And not just because I was promised a date.” She thinks for a moment. “I’m also a fan of the rooftop deck at our villa in Kalmar. But overall, gotta be Aargau.” 

31. Are you interested in anyone?

She blushes, grinning widely. “Just a little. If I wasn’t clear up to this point, well, it’s still kinda new. But Ptah is my boyfriend.” Her entire face lights up with her smile as she says it. “So yes, I guess you could say I’m interested in him.” 

32. That was a stupid question…

The grin doesn’t fade. “To be fair to you, I was being a little vague. Don’t worry about it.” 

33. Would you rather swim in a lake or the ocean?

She thinks for a moment. “I haven’t really spent much time in either. Other than that giant octopus, though, I have enjoyed the ocean. Especially if Ash is there as a dolphin or something.” 

34. What’s your type?

She laughs out loud and buries her face in her hands for a moment. “According to my track record of one, it’s dumbass tieflings who don’t seem to ever shut up and who are really fun to get drunk with. If you’re looking for a serious answer... it’s because he listened to me. I... I doubt myself, a lot, and I usually do okay at hiding it but I didn’t need to hide it from him. I could tell him anything, and not only does he not judge me he somehow always manages to say exactly what I need to hear. So...” Her blush deepens. “Yeah.” 

35. Any fetishes?

“If I did, I wouldn’t be about to tell you.” She winks, despite her blush. 

36. Camping or outdoors?

“Can I have both? You mean like... in a tent or under the stars? Depends on the weather. But if it’s clear? Stars. I didn’t retain much of what I read about the stars, but they’re beautiful.” 

[vanderlindemangofarm]

Can I get a matchup? I'm a nb woman, 5'8 and bi with a major preference for men. I've got black hair with red underneath, I'm a little chubby but trying to get fit. I like being outdoors, animals and sewing. I'm not afraid to talk shit but I often just let things slide because I dont want to deal with the trouble. I'm rough in bed (i like to bite) but i like people to be rougher with me than i can them lol (i think that fact just says a lot about me)

I match you up with Micah Bell! 

He doesn’t mention it much, but he really loves your hair. If he was the kind of person to openly give a damn about aesthetic, he’d probably say you had the same one. 

Will joke about you trying on his red shirt and black jacket, secretly hoping that you’ll take him up on the offer so he can rip them off you again. 

He thinks your figure is cute just as it is, but he quietly admires you for working on your fitness levels. You actually inspire him to be a little more active too. 

Micah finds it very soothing to watch you sew. He’ll sheepishly ask if you can fix a rip in his shirt every now and then. 

He can’t help but melt a little when he sees you care for animals, especially with horses or cats. 

He notices that you sometimes let things slide even if they’re bothering you, and he immediately calls you out on it.

If there’s any trouble or backlash, he’s right by your side, he tells you.

If you want a rough ride in the bedroom, Micah is your man. 

He loves being bitten, but be prepared for him to bite back harder. 

[verai-marcel]

Inescapable Rapture (RDR2 Fanfic, Ch. 1 of 5, 18+ ONLY)

Summary: In another timeline, Deputy Arthur doesn't have any qualms about keeping you. In fact, he wants to tie you down even more now that he has you in his grasp.

Author’s Notes: Red122 on AO3 asked if I was open to writing an alternate version of A Fortnight Of Falling, my initial idea before it became what it did. So I thought about it. And yeah, I was open to writing it, so here it is. Super trigger warning for non-con elements, dubious consent, Reader slowly falling prey to a very dominant, very possessive, low honor Deputy Arthur.

Tags: Low Honor Arthur, D/s, non-con elements, dubious consent, rough sex, dirty talk, blow jobs, facials, outdoor sex, dark erotica

Also find it on AO3 here.

Chapter 1: Welcome Home

Notes: Alternate timeline GO! Also starts right after Sinful Payment.

WC: 1738

You lay in the jail cell, naked and exhausted. Arthur sat on the cot and put your head in his lap. Casually petting you like a cat, he hummed softly as you fell asleep.

You woke up, bundled up in a blanket, curled up against his chest. Feeling the rocking of being on horseback, you blinked and looked around you. It was still dark, but it was the kind of dark that heralded the sunrise in a few minutes. In the distance, you saw the dim outline of a cabin surrounded by the forest.

“Where…?” you trailed off as you looked up at Arthur, noticing how his eyes gleamed with an unknown emotion as he looked down at you.

“My place,” he said. “Went to yours first, got your things.”

You leaned back, relieved that at least you’d have some of your own clothes. Then you went rigid. Did he find…?

“No, I didn’t look under the third floor board at the foot of your bed,” he said, chuckling.

You slumped in his arms. Of course he knew.

***

He let you wash up and put on some clean clothes, while he sat in the one chair in the main room, writing in a journal. When you were all ready, he took you to town on his horse, explaining on the way the cover story: you were staying with him until the disturbance near the south of town, near your cabin, had been investigated. You scoffed, but agreed to go by his rules.

“I'll pick you up after work,” he told you as the doctor's office came into view.

“Sure,” you said flippantly.

He gripped your chin, forcing you to look straight at him.

“Don't even think of runnin’,” he said in a low tone. Swallowing, you nodded. Satisfied, he let you go, got off his horse, and helped you down. He escorted you inside, and then after exchanging a few words with the doctor, he left.

You rubbed your jaw and scowled before starting the work day.

***

Arthur brought you home, and you immediately started preparing dinner, just to put some space between you two. When you started searching through his cabinets for items, he pointed out where everything was before heading out to get fresh water for the basin and to wash off. By the time he came back, you had managed to make a nice roasted rabbit.

As you put the food on the table, you eyed the one chair. And you glowered at Arthur as he sat down in it.

“You want to eat?”

Your stomach growled in response.

“C'mere.” He gestured for you to come closer to him. You did, wary of what he wanted. He quickly pulled you into his lap, not giving you a chance to protest. Reaching around you, he tore off a piece of meat and held it up to your mouth.

You glared.

“Fine,” he said, and popped the morsel into his mouth. Chewing slowly and watching you, he kept eating, waiting for you to give in.

Finally, the smell and your hunger was too much, and you unconsciously let out a whimper. He held a piece up you, and you took it delicately in your mouth. He stared at your lips, wrapped around his fingers as you sucked the juice off. You hadn't meant to do it, but something low in your body responded to the look in his eyes. He kept feeding you by hand, and though you didn’t suck on his fingers again, he did trace your lips at the last bite.

As soon as the meal was done, you hurried off his lap to clean up. You heard him laugh softly at your escape as he helped you take the dishes to the sink, to your surprise. You had expected him to just sit back and let you do all the work. But with his help, it made the clean up twice as fast. For a moment, you wondered why, and then with a sinking feeling, you figured it out: the sooner you finished, the sooner he’d take you to his bed. As you finished putting the last plate away, as slowly as you could, you glanced over at Arthur, who was watching you expectantly. When you were done, he walked away to the bedroom.

Swallowing, you followed him.

***

Arthur stood at the doorway, ushering you in, and then closed the door behind him. Not even a moment passed before he was right behind you, guiding you towards the bed.

“Strip,” he said in a low tone. You slowly unbuttoned your blouse and skirt, throwing them aside. You started to remove your chemise, but Arthur was impatient. He spun you around, grabbed the thin fabric, and tore it open. He tugged the ribbon from your drawers and pulled that off too, letting it pool at your feet.

Staring at you with unbridled lust, he took off his shirt while you watched, your mouth going dry. Yeah, he was a good looking man, but he was also a scarily strong man, with muscles that could no doubt break you in half. He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you close, taking your mouth in a greedy kiss. He walked you towards the bed, making you stumble backwards until you fell onto it, with him falling upon you, his legs straddling yours.

Nibbling on your earlobe, and trailing nips down your neck, he breathed in your scent. His hands were all over your body, stroking, squeezing, while he grinded his hips into you. The rough fabric of his jeans rubbed against you, and you moaned despite your best efforts to stay quiet. He softly chuckled.

“Let it all out. I want to hear everything.”

Then he got up and unbuttoned his fly. You scooted back on the bed as you saw him release his cock, gripping it by the base and stroking it slowly. Your eyes stayed on his movements, your pussy pulsing with a need that you tried to ignore. Reaching out, he pulled you into his arms and sat down on the edge of the bed, making you sit in his lap, facing away from him. His cock rested between your legs, and he gripped your hips, moving you against him. A moan came from you, unbidden. You did not want to enjoy this, but your body craved his possessive touch.

“Better cooperate, kitten. You want this to feel good, don’tcha?” he rumbled as he rubbed your pussy lips, teasing you by not quite touching your clit. You wriggled your hips, but he just gripped you tighter and bit the back of your neck, making you yelp. He slowly pushed one finger into you, stretching you as he stirred you up, making you twitch in his arms.

Then he shoved two fingers into you, and hummed when he heard your panting. He pushed his thumb against your clit almost too hard as he fingered you, his other arm around your body, his hand wrapped around your throat. You choked out a cry as he kept his grip on you, his fingers curving deep inside of you.

As if he had flicked a switch, you convulsed in his arms as a wave of pleasure overtook you, making you give a loud, long moan. He held you tight as you came, his lips against your shoulder and murmuring praises.

“Good girl, that’s right, let go for me…”

When you felt the wave drift away, he lifted you up and positioned you over his cock. You felt the head of him push on your entrance, and you clenched up.

“I’m takin’ you, so just let me in,” he growled as he pulled you onto him. You cried out, he was so big, stretching you. But he wouldn’t stop, just slowly lowered you down until you were fully seated in his lap, his cock deep inside you to the hilt.

“Ride me,” he commanded, and you moved slowly at first. He groaned and let you go at your own pace for a couple minutes. He slapped your ass and growled about going faster, but you couldn't do it; you were sluggish from your first release and your body not used to such an invasion, even after being loosened up by him earlier. So he gripped your hips and started pounding upwards into you at a quicker pace.

“Makin’ me do the work, you’ll pay for that,” he snarled, his thrusts going faster, harder, his hand going back to your neck. Your strangled cries just made him more excited as he fucked you mercilessly, losing whatever restraint he had. Feeling his breath against the back of your neck and hearing his moans turned you on, despite your best efforts to remain neutral.

His other hand went back to your clit, rubbing furiously. You shrieked, it was too much stimulation at once. He overloaded your senses; his touch was possessive, his cock taking you with abandon, his hand wrapped around your throat. Arthur’s voice, wordless sounds of encouragement, low and husky in your ear, drove you mad.

“Come for me, kitten,” he demanded, and you screamed as you came once more, your body spasming with the force of it. He didn’t let up his unforgiving rhythm, continuing to hammer into you from below, until your legs trembled and you almost slumped over.

He threw you onto the bed and kneeled in front of your face, stroking himself leisurely.

“Open your mouth,” he commanded, and when you did, he grabbed your hair and sped up his strokes, coming with a loud moan as his spend shot onto you. You flinched as most of it fell in your mouth, but some on your face. He reached down and smeared some of it around your lips, then forced your mouth shut.

“Swallow,” he said, and you did. He suddenly gave you the most fiercely proud smile.

“Such a good girl,” he whispered, stroking your cheek. “Takin’ all this so well.” He got the blankets over both of you and pulled you against him. He gently massaged your aching legs and kissed your forehead.

“I’ll take real good care of you, don’t you worry,” he whispered. “You’re mine, after all.”

You weren’t sure how you felt about this, but as you drifted to sleep, you knew one thing for sure.

Two weeks of this was going to break you, one way or the other.

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

Part 2 is here.