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newronantic · 3 years

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HAIKYUU!! FICS

so this is mostly gonna be for myself to keep track of my favorite fics i’ve read, but hey if anyone else wants to check some of these out then thats great

MHA one is up!!

ill keep updating this as i read more, feel free to send me suggestions!

KageHina

plain as day - emleewrites

In which Hinata has spent the better part of the last twenty years putting his heart and soul into volleyball, hoping to be recognised, to be noticed. And yet he spends all these years also thinking of himself as rather plain, beyond his lack of height and bright hair, and not really noticeable at all.

In Transit - Mysecretfanmoments

Hinata finds that he likes standing close to Kageyama on buses and trains. It doesn't mean anything--probably. Maybe.

I like the way your clothes smell - Mysecretfanmoments

Power outages, ghost stories, and the presence of a certain orange-haired boy lead to bad decision-making on Tobio's part. He'd planned to keep his crush a secret; the universe has other plans.

Chaotic Neutral - akaraka

Who's this Kageyama person on twitter and is he gay?

1: Anonymous: see title

2: Anonymous: curry king

3: Anonymous >> 1: It's the curry king, obviously. Have you been using his memes this whole time without knowing who he was?

4: Anonymous: 1) Hinata Shouyou's boyfriend 2) See above

jellyfish - mysterytwin

At the beginning of his last year at Karasuno High School, Hinata Shouyou starts a list and calls it THINGS TO DO BEFORE GRADUATION, all with high hopes that he’ll be able to complete it before his time runs out.

TsukkiYama

Try This On For Size - CloudMonsta

A lot changed for Yamaguchi Tadashi over the course of high school. He started trying on dresses, for one.

The Great Yamaguchi-Tsukishima Split (Capitalization Necessary) - WyYeuw

"But no, the current situation isn’t normal. This situation requires the full attention of the team.

No, what’s really concerning this time around, is that Yamaguchi is the one ignoring Tsukishima.”

Yamaguchi confesses. Tsukishima fucks up—like, really fucks up. The volleyball club notices and loses a week’s worth of practice.

IwaOi

Terrarium - sausaged

He's practically a professional at being proactive (lies, lies, and lies when it comes to Iwaizumi).

At this point, is he really happy with just staying best friends forever? Will he be writing journals and collecting rocks forever (he will, he knows, but that is aside from the point)?

Can he really tag his Instagram photos with #YOLO if he doesn't actually put that phrase into practice?

A story about Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime, plants, and rocks.

They Say it Rain Diamonds on Jupiter - exsao

"You're in love with him."

Hajime considers denying it. He considers deliberately choking on his drink to express surprise, to create a distraction by spitting onto the man in front of him's pristine white shirt and causing a commotion. Instead, he swallows his mouthful of soda and heaves a small sigh once his mouth is free.

"Yeah," he says instead.

He's never been good at lying, anyway.

bait and switch - Stylographic_Blue_Rhapsody

Oikawa's university volleyball team knows he's in a long-distance relationship with someone from high school. They imagine a sweet-faced girl that matches his sarcasm with patience. They are so incredibly wrong.

my heart is where it’s always been - foreverautumn

Iwaizumi places his phone down carefully.

Oikawa. Pining after someone. There’s no way.

(Iwaizumi knows he shouldn’t care who Oikawa might have feelings for, but within the span of three days, it’s somehow the only thing he can think about.)

KuroKen

Beautiful People Will Ruin Your Life - todxrxki

Kuroo Tetsurou runs a private Twitter account where he's constantly tweeting about how desperately in love he is with Kozume Kenma. Little does he know that Kenma sees all the tweets and keeps referencing the account in an attempt to get Kuroo to confess to him. / Or, five times Kuroo didn't notice Kenma hinting about his private Twitter account, and one time he finally did.

the things that get caught in the valves of his heart - ghostpot

Emotional competency is not exactly Kuroo's strong suit. Kenma finds it quite amusing.

Accidentally In Love - todxrxki

Kuroo frowns, but then slowly, the corners of his mouth lift up into a smirk. "Well, if it's so unbelievable, why don't we give it a try?"

Kenma glances up at him curiously. "What do you mean?"

"Let's do the 36 questions to fall in love," Kuroo says, still smirking stupidly. "If we don't fall in love, then you're right, it's bullshit. But if we do somehow..." Kuroo waggles his eyebrows. "Then I win." / Kuroo decides he and Kenma should do the 36 questions to fall in love as a joke, but they both start to realize they might actually be in love already.

the galaxy is endless (i thought we were, too) - cosmogony

TW: major character death

Kuroken AU where the last words your soulmate will say to you appear on your skin when you turn 16, and how Kenma and Kuroo learn what this means over the course of their lives

even if you’re ahead for a bit, i will catch up - ghostpot

Kuroo first confesses when they're sticky-fingered, wide-eyed kids, and subsequently every day after that. Kenma takes a while to come around.

you’re the brake lines failing (as my car swerves off the freeway) - ghostpot

Kenma thinks that Kuroo looks ugly with his head bent against the arm of the couch like that. Then Kenma thinks that he wants to marry him, and is promptly thrown into the 5 stages of grief.

teach me the way home - icespyders

“Don’t go far off, not even for a day, because —

because — I don’t know how to say it: a day is long

and I will be waiting for you, as in an empty station

when the trains are parked off somewhere else, asleep.”

Kuroo and Kenma grow up in transit.

in this universe - crossbelladonna

Living with Kuroo is sometimes, just like this. It always feels surreal like he's living half a world and a lot of things rush by too quickly. Kenma feels like he'd watched him come and go in a blink, eyes wide and wordless as the shared space went snug in an instant and far larger in the next.

All this, and a glass of water.

Beginning’s End - todxrxki

Somehow over the course of Kenma's lifetime, he’s never really had an opportunity to miss Kuroo. He’s always been there. Even when they went to different schools, Kuroo would meet him afterwards so they could walk home together, shoulders brushing, Kuroo occasionally taking the opportunity to guide him when his nose was buried in the newest video game. The thought of Kuroo not being there anymore is uncomfortable, to say the least. / Kozume Kenma's third year and the changes the year brings in himself and his relationship with Kuroo Tetsurou.

All I Want for Christmas is You - todxrxki

“Kuro,” he says. “You’re a single guy.”

“Yeah, great, thanks for pointing that out.”

“And my parents already know you, plus they already know you like guys or whatever so… what if you pretended to be my date for Christmas dinner?” / In which Kenma recruits his housemate and best friend Kuroo to be his fake date for Christmas.

BokuAka

just to miss the sun - rosevtea

Everything begins to implode when MSBY Jackals outside hitter Bokuto Koutarou crashes Akaashi's livestream.

Operation BokuAka - kazzydolyn

After spending two whole years watching Bokuto and Akaashi pine for one another, the rest of the Fukuroudani Volleyball Club has had enough. When everyone meets up for a reunion dinner, the team decides to play matchmaker and finally get the two of them together. Unfortunately, their plan starts to fall apart when they discover that Akaashi is already dating someone. And apparently so is Bokuto. What a strange coincidence.

bitter - silvercistern

He accepted his classmate's chocolates gracefully, then declared his lack of interest with as much dignity as he could muster. She deserved the courtesy. At least she'd acknowledged that Valentine's Day was all about her, and not about him in the slightest.

Because if any of these girls had taken the time to actually get to know him, they’d quickly realize something even more important than his lack of interest in girls.

And that was that Akaashi hated sweets.

In Another Life - LittleLuxray

TW: major character death

Sleeping didn't come as easy as it used to. Bokuto knew this, and now Akaashi did, too.

The hospital AU that no body asked for, but that I took upon myself to write.

120% yes - pissedofsandwich

TOKYO FRANCHISE COMING SOON @OnigiriMiya

in reply to @bokkun_official

Congratulations! In celebration of your historic engagement, please DM us so we can send you a free membership code with a 25% discount on every fourth purchase!

Kissing Ace - karasunovolleygays

It happens right after training camp.

Akaashi Keiji has a secret he has guarded since he was a child. He won’t go so far as to call it a fear, but more of an aspect of himself of which he is horribly mortified. No one on the team knows about it, and Akaashi does his best to keep it that way.

But years of dodging hugs and casual contact come to naught in the blink of an eye and the swipe of a hand.

daisy rings and frivolous things (i am deliriously in love with you) - gabstar

Akaashi Keiji is in love. Bokuto Koutarou is a star. Everyone on Fukurodani has a gambling problem.

SakuAtsu

The MSBY Black Jackals Read Thirst Tweets - isaksara (syailendra)

Sakusa’s eyes are very dark naturally, sucking in all surrounding rays of light and crushing them in his pupils. For an athlete, he is rather pale. His lips look very pink in comparison. Atsumu is suddenly catastrophically aware that in this instance, ‘accent’ is a euphemism. “Good enough for your Olympic-size ego, Miya?”

(In which Atsumu realizes that he is attracted to Sakusa Kiyoomi in the most inconvenient way possible.)

A Liar’s Truth - internetpistol

In which Sakusa Kiyoomi is raised to believe that gay people go to hell but then takes one look at Miya Atsumu and thinks, then why the hell did God make them so fucking hot?

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sisterspooky1013 · 3 years

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Damsels, Chapter Five: Work That Gameboy

By SisterSpooky1013 / Tagging @today-in-fic

Rated E / Read previous chapters here

Mulder arrives at work early, looking longingly at Scully’s car in the parking lot. Approaching it, he peers in the windows looking for…he isn’t sure what. Her car is, as usual, neat as a pin with no indication of where she went or why.

In his restlessness the night before, he’d thought a lot about why it bothers him so much not to know where she is or what she’s doing. If the roles were reversed, he would expect her to wait it out and trust him to take care of himself, but for some reason he’s struggling to do the same for her. He thought at first that it was her tendency to get hurt or need help, but by comparison he needs her help just as often as she needs his, so that doesn’t track. Then he thought maybe it’s that he doesn’t trust Skinner to do what’s in her best interest, but Skinner has shown a tendency to be protective of Scully on numerous occasions (and in fact Mulder strongly suspects his feelings for her go beyond the bounds of strict professionalism), so that isn’t entirely logical either. Skinner may have left him out to dry with the New Spartans, but he doesn’t believe the man would stoop low enough to treat Scully in the same manner.

In the end, he realized that it’s pretty simple; he’s just crazy about her. His protectiveness doesn’t have anything to do with how capable she is, or the situations other people might put her in, or even situations she might put herself in. He misses her, and cares so much about her that not even knowing where she is feels wrong. It feels like a piece of him is missing, and he’s not allowed to know where it is or when he’ll get it back.

After pretending to work for an hour, he sulks up to Skinner’s office and asks for a few minutes of his time. Skinner is immediately irritated, though Mulder doesn’t realize that it’s in response to him and not a preexisting condition. He stands in front of Skinner’s desk, looming over him.

“What do you want, Agent Mulder?” Skinner grumbles, not looking up from the document he’s reading.

“I’d like to know where Agent Scully is, sir.”

Skinner sighs heavily, dropping his head to his chest.

“Get out of my office, Agent Mulder,” he says in a low, menacing tone.

“Sir, I’m not asking to contact her, I would never compromise her case, I just need to at least know where she is. What if something happens and I need to find her?”

Skinner stands, looking Mulder in the eye with an intensity he’s seen on very few occasions, none of them fond memories. “Agent Mulder, Agent Scully explicitly asked me not to tell you where she is, or what she’s doing. Even if she hadn’t, I STILL would not tell you, however I hope that if you don't respect the direct orders of your superior, you might, at the very least, respect Agent Scully’s wishes. Now get the hell out of my office and do not bring this up again, understood?”

Mulder glances down and notices Scully’s keys on the desk near Skinner’s nameplate, her Apollo 11 keychain easily identifiable. He leans forward, putting his hands on the desktop, one covering the keys.

“Sir, if anything happens to her, I’ll-“

“You’ll what, Agent Mulder?” Skinner challenges him, stuffing his hands in his pockets in a show of bravado.

Mulder straightens, palming the keys as he stands, and leaves without another word.

Scully arrives at the club just before 2 pm, wearing shorts and a tank top as Angel had instructed. After stuffing her purse into a locker, she finds Angel and Tibet on the floor, which has returned to its daylight state of clean and quiet. Queenie restocks the bar while Ben fiddles with the sound system.

Tibet is up on the stage while Angel sits at the tip rail, offering pointers on a new dance Tibet is working out. Scully immediately notices that Tibet’s hair is cropped short and worn in its natural curls, and realizes she’d been wearing a wig the night before.

“So I was thinking that I could either take my top off just before or just after the first chorus, tell me which looks better, okay?” Tibet says to Angel as Scully enters and takes a seat beside her.

“Benny! Hit me with the music!” Tibet shouts, and then repeats her performance twice, revealing her breasts at a different point in the song each time. When she’s finished, she sits down on the edge of the stage in front of them and asks for their thoughts, her breasts still uncovered.

“I think the sooner the better,” Angel says. “They come here to see your body, so show it to em!”

Tibet nods. “What do you think, Desi?” She asks, stretching a smooth brown leg out to her side and leaning into it.

Scully suddenly feels entirely out of her league in terms of providing an opinion. “Uh, well, generally speaking I guess I’d say wait. You want to build some suspense, right? Make them work for it?”

Angel looks at her suspiciously out of the corner of her eye. “You don’t fuck on the first date, do you?” She asks with a haughty grin, and Scully’s eyes go big at the question. “I’m just messing with you, let’s get to your training!”

“Alright,” Tibet begins as though she’s done this dozens of times, tugging the straps of her shirt back over her shoulders. “So, have you ever given a lap dance before?” she asks plainly, and Scully’s cheeks flush.

“Well, kind of I guess. In college, though more as a joke than anything else. I would definitely consider myself a beginner.”

“Got it, got it,” Tibet responds. “Well, for the most part dancing is about creating a sense of intimacy. It’s fake, obviously, but the more your customer feels like you actually care about him, want him to look at you, like that he’s appreciating your body, the better you’ll do. Your stage set is just about showing yourself off and getting them curious about you. The real money comes from lap dances and VIP, and the more you can draw attention with a really great stage set, the more customers will want to spend time with you afterward. Angel is a beast on the pole and she can teach you all those tricks, but I consider myself the lap dance expert around here, so I’m gonna teach you that part.” She smiles and jumps down from the stage, pulling a chair away from one of the tables and gesturing for Scully to sit in it.

“Oh,” Scully says, and sits as instructed.

“Sometimes, when you’re on the floor, customers will flag you down or ask for you, and that’s great. But you also have to approach people, because they’ll be too shy to ask. So you might come up and do this.”

Tibet saunters towards Scully with a secretive smile on her lips, stepping so close that her thighs thread between Scully’s knees. Next she leans down, placing her hands on Scully’s shoulders and bringing her mouth to Scully’s ear.

“Would you like a dance, Baby?” she asks in a syrupy voice, and Scully feels a shiver run down her spine. Tibet backs up. “Okay, now you try.”

“You want ME to do that?” Scully clarifies, and while just asking someone if they want a lap dance should be the easiest hurdle to clear, she’s finding that it’s still an uncomfortably high one.

Angel turns her head toward the bar and calls out, “Queenie! We need some liquid courage over here!”

Queenie walks over with a bottle of tequila and three shot glasses, pouring them wordlessly before returning to her task.

Angel holds her glass up, Tibet and Scully following suit. “To new career paths,” Angel says, and Scully smiles thinly, clinking her glass with theirs and throwing back the shot with a grimace.

Three weeks. She’s been gone three weeks, and not a word from Skinner. No update, no information, though he’s stopped by a couple times and asked, drawing increasing amounts of rage from his boss. He’s finished all the paperwork, re-organized the files, cleaned and rearranged the office (only to immediately change it back) and spent hours upon hours imagining where Scully might be right now.

He kept her keys, just in case, but knows she’d be unhappy with him invading her privacy by snooping around her apartment. That’s why he waits three whole weeks before he finally does it. He has a key to her apartment and could have gone there at any point, but her personal keyring also holds the keys for her gun safe and her mailbox, which may prove helpful. After work on a Thursday, he drives by and lets himself in, the warm vanilla smell of her immediately invading his nostrils as he opens the door. He sighs deeply, pulling her into his lungs; it feels like coming home.

First he waters her plants, which are looking half dead, and makes a mental note to use watering them as the reason he came here if asked. Next he opens her gun safe, and is struck to find her service weapon holstered and tucked neatly inside with the safety on. She doesn’t have her gun? What the hell kind of assignment is this? He brings in her mail, which is no help at all, and leaves it stacked on the counter. Next he lays down on her bed, shoving his face into her pillow and breathing the smell of her shampoo for a few minutes before he has the thought to look for her overnight bag.

Scully has a go bag in the trunk of her car for emergencies, but given the opportunity she’ll use her overnight bag and pack for the weather, situation, etc. Opening her closet, he finds it on the floor near her laundry hamper, empty save for a travel size can of hairspray tucked into a side pocket. In her bathroom, he finds all her toiletries accounted for, including her toothbrush. The more he sees, the more confused he is. Even when he’d spent time undercover with dangerous individuals, he’d been allowed to bring his own toothbrush.

Moving to the hallway, he picks up her landline and dials.

“Dana?” Maggie Scully’s voice answers on the second ring.

“No, sorry, Mrs. Scully, it’s Fox Mulder.”

“I saw Dana’s name on the caller ID, is she with you?” Her voice carries worry.

“No, I’m just here at her apartment watering her plants, sorry to confuse you. Have you been in touch with Dana, Mrs. Scully?”

“No, Fox, I haven’t heard from her in weeks. She told me she had an assignment that would take her away for a while and that she’d be unreachable, but I’m a little concerned that she hasn’t contacted me yet.”

Mulder closes his eyes. “I wish I had anything to share, Mrs. Scully, but I’m in somewhat of the same boat. A.D. Skinner isn’t concerned and it does sound like he’s in touch with her, but I was hoping she might have called you.”

“I’m afraid not,” Maggie replies sadly.

“What did she tell you when she left? Did she share any information at all?” he asks hopefully.

“Um, let me think. She said she was going on an assignment and that she’d be out of touch for a few weeks. And she said she’d bring me some Tastykakes when she comes home,” she adds.

“Tastykakes, what are those?” Mulder asks, his investigative senses tingling.

“They’re a treat we always get when we go to Philadelphia; little packaged snack cakes. The kids always loved them.”

“Are they only available in Philadelphia?” he asks, heart pumping.

“I’m not sure, but that’s where we always get them,” Maggie says hopefully.

“Thank you, Mrs. Scully. That’s really helpful. I’ll let you know if I track her down, okay?”

“Thank you, Fox. Take care.”

Setting the phone back on its cradle, he does a little victory dance. It isn’t much, but it’s something. Scully is just a few hours away in the city of brotherly love.

Three weeks. It’s been three weeks of practicing stage sets and lap dances in the afternoon, serving drinks in the evening and well into the middle of the night, and then sleeping until noon. Her arms and legs bear fading bruises from her acclimation to Paul the Pole, the crooks of her elbows and knees sporting slight calluses that help her get a good grip (with an assist from the grip powder Angel has instructed her to use). She’s given Tibet and Angel dozens of lap dances each, the other standing by to coach her on making sure one foot stays on the floor. After three weeks, she found that her barriers were mostly in her head. Once she was able to let go and just move, she’s actually pretty good at it.

That day she arrives in pink cotton shorts and a white tank top, now so used to being scantily clad that it no longer makes her self-conscious, and prepares to do a full dress rehearsal of the routine she worked up with Angel’s help. Queenie and Ricky sit down to observe what is more or less a test of her readiness, and one she intends to pass. Where she would have expected to feel nervous, she’s excited, ever the eager student motivated to impress and exceed expectations. Ben kills the daytime lights to make it look and feel like it would if they were open, and her set begins.

Moving onto the stage, she can barely see her audience with the bright lights trained on her. She quickly gets lost in the movements she rehearsed, feeling graceful as she circles the pole and hitches an arm around it, spinning in a feathery arc. When the point in the dance comes to remove her shirt, she does so as a well practiced step in a strategy, without any feelings of exposure. Soon enough her bra follows suit and she is left with only her tiny pink shorts, nipples hardening as they graze the pole. The undulation of her hips, the pop of her booty out towards the audience, the slip of a hand down the inside of her thigh; they’re each a part of the method. Precisely planned and executed in much the same way as she might dismantle and clean her gun, or prepare a slide for the microscope. It isn’t much different than performing an autopsy, she had reasoned. Except instead of: Y incision, open rib cage, remove organs, examine stomach contents, collect specimens, examine brain, it’s: arch back, grasp breasts, spread legs, thrust pelvis, rub thighs, grind on the pole. She’s always found her strength in taking a clinical, detached approach to difficult tasks, and that turns out to be just as effective on the stage as it is in the lab.

As she finishes, her small audience erupts into applause, standing in ovation as Ben brings the house lights up halfway. Scully smiles shyly, stepping down to join them on the floor as Ricky approaches her and slings an arm around her bare shoulders.

“That was fucking fantastic, Desi. Sexy as fuck. Let me see you do a lap dance now.”

#the x files #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #gillovny #msr #sculder #x files #case file #case fic #x files fanfic

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keenmarvellover · 4 years

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POSTS FOR YOU - 1

Some links to posts with valuable content you want in one place.(BASICALLY EVERYTHING IS THERE)

Suggestions and Recommendations are appreciated and accepted.

Last Updated : 16/10/2020

NOTE: Some of these post are written in a crude and unruly fashion. But they contain valuable tips, guidance and information. If you can't/don't want to read such posts, then don't read.

Mental Health

Do you need a Hug?

Maybe you’re having a stressful day. Maybe you just need a deep breath. Maybe you just didn’t realize how stressed you are. You can get your comfort here.

Some stuff to help you sleep

This is definitely not a google drive full of the sleep stuff from the Headspace app, including sleepcasts, music, and wind down meditation, that normally costs 17.99 a month, no siree and you definitely shouldnt share this with people

Anti-Anxiety Tools

Some tools to help you before, during or after an anxiety attack

100 Reasons NOT To Kill Yourself

READ IT. SHARE IT. REBLOG IT. Save a Life.

HOBBIES MASTERPOST!!!!!!!!

A really excellent way to reduce anxiety is to pick up a new hobby. Find something you’re interested in, learn it, then use it as a healthy and productive way to cope.

Health

Some very Important Lists for Rating PAIN, FATIQUE AND MENTAL HEALTH

It is MUST share

PSA Rregarding Hospital bills

Also how to pay hospital bills when you are broke.

How to differentiate between COVID-19, FLU AND COMMON COLD

Anyway, as we enter cold & flu season in the YEAR of corona, this will come in very handy.

Treatment for HIV

VERY IMPORTANT. Please Read and Share.

What does the Color of your Period mean?

A must read for individuals who get periods.

How to differentiate between Period Cramps and Appendicitis

A MUST READ

From a Person who is Hard of Hearing

Types and levels of deafness

General Tips for Vagina Health

Some stuff they don't teach in sex-ed.

Undo the damage of Sitting

Are you always sitting down? Then these are some exercise you should probably try out for better health.

Guide to Proper Bra Fitting

Guide to Proper Bra Fit and Measuring. Please Read and Share.

Washable, Reusable Menstrual Pads

(Part II)

Reusable menstrual hygiene product, and are an alternative to disposable sanitary napkins or to menstrual cups.

Artists

Art Masterpost

How to draw *insert whatever you want, its there in the list*?

Book Binding

Some video links to different types of DIY Bookbinding

For Artists who Need Photoshop

If youre an artist who cant afford photoshop, definitely DO NOT go to this google drive to pirate the program, that would be so bad!!!

Do’s and Don'ts of Designing for Accessibility

Please consider this when designing for ANYTHING. For BUSINESSES and ARTISTS.

Writers

Color Synonyms

For both ARTISTS and WRITERS

How to make a Masterlist

Simple but efficient instructions to make a masterlist

ULTIMATE NOVEL WRITING RESOURCE MASTERLIST

This is an ultimate masterlist of many resources that could be helpful for writers.

List of AUs and Ship Tropes

For when you run out of ideas.

AUs

Ship Tropes

Legal sites to get some much needed Info

If there was only a way to find out all of this rather edgy information without getting yourself in trouble…

Resources for Describing Characters

For writing about physical appearances, character traits, talents,and skills and other related stuff of your characters, here is a comprehensive list.

Resources for Describing Emotions

Having trouble writing jealousy, happiness, motivation. Here you go!!

Some Resources for your Writing

Body Language

Reverse Dictionary

Character Traits

Things to Keep in mind when naming Characters

Valuable advice. Trust me

Words to Use when Writing Smut/Romance

This is for smut/romance writers. Kinda like a thesaurus.

Tips to write Pain

How are you supposed to write about pain you’ve never experienced before?

References for Greek Mythology Characters

Link to an extensive site every single detail of Greek Mythology from Gods to Family Trees.

Tips to write Blind Characters

Some tips that might be invaluable when writing character that are near-blind or blind

Things to Remember when writing a Highly Emotional Scene

Just small things that could make a great difference

How to write with Multiple POVs

Tips on how to write multiple POVs with diverse characters

Synonyms and Antonyms

The person who made this list is a blessing to writers. Just saying.

Good Qualities for Female Characters

Females don't always need to be protected and be weak. Make them more realistic.

Words to Use instead of ‘Said’

Every single situation is listed. Check it out.

Limits of the Human Body

All extremities listed

Readers

Legal Sites to Download Literature

From children’s books to rare books, from philosophy and religion to nonfiction. I guess you can find anything here.

The Rights of the Reader

And some (lots of) bashing of Helicopter Parents.(You want to read only the rights. Here it is)

Wet Book Rescue : Steps to save a Wet Book

Valuable information if some of your prized books were affected by recent flooding. The video even shows you what to do if you can’t dry the book out right away.

Cheatsheet to Navigate AO3

Makes your time on AO3 a little more easier and interesting

How to trick Writers into giving you More Fanfic to read

Works for Comics and Art as well.

Get a Book Suggestion

This book website gives you the first page of a random book without the title or author so that you can read it with no preconceptions

Books written by POC Writers

Only POC authors included in the list.

Students

Basic ASL (American Sign Language) Movements

ASL Hand Movements for beginners.

Tips for studying with ADHD/a>

Made by a person with ADHD themself.

Resources to Learn New Languages

Ten fairly useful general language resources

How to properly take notes

It helps. It really helps.

FREE ONLINE LANGUAGE COURSES

Here is a masterpost of MOOCs (massive open online courses) that are available, archived, or starting soon. I think they will help those that like to learn with a teacher or with videos.

A Thread of Tips

A thread of tips to help High School and College students academically

LEARN THINGS FOR FREE

FREE ONLINE COURSES (here are listed websites that provide huge variety of courses)

Google like a BOSS

Some life hacks which make student's lives easier.

625 words to know in your Target Language

If your learning a new language, these words will help you build a strong foundation.(Some tips and sites are include too)

Miscellaneous/Life Hacks

How to add music to your Blog

How to add your very own, custom homemade playlist to your blog?

How to Walk with Purpose?

Some tips on how to hold yourself in public and why.

Cheatsheet for Laundry Rooms

Saves a lot of money in the Laundry Room

How to Gird up your Loins?

A lesson in how to gird your loins.

How to Disappear Online

Please read and spread for the sake of abuse victims or stalker victims.

What to do during a Nuclear Attack

I hope you never have to use it but here are some guidelines to follow in the event of a nuclear attack

How to pull an All-Nighter.

A to-do list

Write a Thank You letter after your Interview

It leaves a good impression on your interviewer and increase your chances of passing the interview.

Laundry Tags: Meanings

A life hack that you’ll definitely need at some point.

Where to find free Movies and Series Online

Lots of sites. Lots and Lots of sites. I am not Kidding. Now go and chill without netflix. (Part II)

How to get a Refund?

Get your stuff or a refund.

HOW TO DO EVERYTHING FROM SCRATCH

This starts at the most absolute basics of gardening and planting, provides definitions, and hopefully is easily understandable. This is a MUST-READ. (Farming)

Discuss your wages

It’s your right to share your salary, not doing so could be holding you back.

Youtube Tutorials for Basically EVERYTHING

This is a big, giant list of Youtube tutorials that will teach you all the basic life skills you need to know in order to be a functional adult.

Safety

Emergency Evacuation - Items to Gather

A text list of suggested items to acquire in the event of an emergency.

If someone you know is in an abusive relationship

AN ABBREVIATED GUIDE TO ‘Holy shit!!! My friend is in an abusive relationship what do I do’ and what not to do.

Defense Tips for Women

Defense and Safety tips a woman MUST know. (Part II)

An app that informs your Emergency contacts if you are inactive in a set period of time.(Could prevent rape attempts if used correctly)

If a Man gets Physical

How to check if a mirror is one way or two-way

If you are trapped in a smoke-filled apartment: What to Do

How to get out of Hand-binds

How to get out of the bunker of a Car

How to track Anonymous asks.

How to pick a Lock

Traits and Warning signs of an Abuser

What to do if a bigot pulls your Hijab (from behind)

What to do if someone pulls of a Muslim Woman's Hijab? (To do List for both Men and Women)

#safety #health #mental health #writers #readers #micellaneous

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hitsuackerman · 4 years

Text

What in the World? (Akaashi Keiji x Reader) pt.6

Part 6 of WINTW? :D Enjoy!

Akaashi’s lineup: @alluring-akaashi @oikawalmart-hq @extrasugafree @bbykiyoomi @apricotjihyo @simpformiya @colorseeingchick @something-that-idk (i have no idea why i can’t tag some of you :( huhu )

links: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 7

“(l/n)?” Akaashi knocked on the door. He wasn’t sure as to why he found himself chasing after you but here he was. Getting a few stares from passersby. Not that he wasn’t used to being stared at due to all the tournaments. “Are you okay? I can get Yukie-san if you want.”

“I’ll be out in a while, don’t worry.” You were sitting on the toilet. Palms wide open as you tried to activate your quirk. Using the same pattern Shoto could understand. But with the amount of minutes that had passed, it was evident that a response was impossible. Was that just a quirk-fluke? The heat from the gym? There was no way it had to be the latter.

Rubbing your face, you groaned and finally stood up. Not only did you have a problem with your quirk, you now had to come up with an excuse to tell the pretty boy waiting for you outside.

Opening the doors, Akaashi was leaning on the wall across the door. He stood up straight when his eyes met yours. It was clear to him how a lot of your questions were left unanswered. The light in your eyes wasn't as bright as they usually were. By now, the both of you had established a small friendship so he wouldn’t interrogate you into spilling what was bothering you. He respected you too much.

“You didn’t have to wait, you know?” You poked his arm shyly.

“Yukie-san would disapprove of that.” Seeing you agreed, he continued. “Do you wanna talk about it? While we head back to the gym?”

“There’s not much to talk about. I guess fatigue from catching all those balls finally caught up. But, I’m fine in all honesty.”

“OYA OYA!”

The both of you were not expecting Bokuto to appear out of nowhere. The look of concern was something new to you. Though, it was no surprise knowing who he was. He merely explained that the both of you were taking a little too much time, he became worried, and that it wasn’t the same without Akaashi setting for him.

Giggling as he gave a sad face, to which his hair deflated as well, Bokuto felt relieved knowing you were feeling much better. Eyeing his friend, he wiggled his eyebrows only to be met by furrowed one’s.

‘No, Bokuto-san. How many times do I have to repeat myself?’ That was the look on Akaashi’s face. One that Bokuto was all too familiar with.

‘Then why keep staring at her when she isn’t looking?’ Bokuto wasn’t sure if his friend could read minds but the way his bushy eyebrows were raised, how his eyes went from him to you and back to him was enough to convey the message.

‘If you don’t stop, I won’t set for you anymore.’

“I’LL STOP AKHAASHI!”

Not expecting the sudden outburst, you eyed the two towering men. For a moment, you could have sworn the two of them were having some kind of mental conversation. When Akaashi transferred his gaze to his childhood friend, the beefy owl cleared his throat and went back to his usual self.

“Anyway, the coach wants to give us updates on the 2nd joint training camp!”

Following the jumping owl, you had to endure another walk of shame when you entered the gym. At least this time, you were greeted with caring voices and soft pats on the back. When all of you were seated and calmed down, the coach took out the board and began to lecture about how the training session would go.

It wasn’t new information for them. Same venue in Saitama and the same schools as well. Due to how frequent the camps have been held, the meeting was short and direct to the point. When you all were dismissed, each member eagerly discussed the remaining days and what they’d like to improve.

As for the managers, they were now brainstorming as to what food to prepare on the last day of the training camp. All you could do was nod and wonder just how much work and what type of people were you bound to meet within the next few days.

Walking down the streets, Akaashi and you were now munching on some onigiri that he had bought. He was quite eager in finishing the little rice ball that you had to deduce was one of his favorite foods.

“You know, seeing you devour that onigiri made me remember a dream of mine.” You opened up. He gave you a sign to continue. “I dreamed that I had special powers. During that time, me and some people were in a huge building that seemed to be our dorm. If my memory serves me right, one of them got into an argument with me because his power was better suited for cooking.”

“Then what happened?”

“He basically used his powers to quickly cook things, to which I don’t understand how he did it. In the end, a scruffy looking teacher bound us together in this cloth like material and gave us a very good scolding.” Recalling that scenario was fun. That was also when Bakugo and you finally had a proper and interesting conversation.

“Powers. Dimensions. You like sci-fi?” This was the only way to get a little bit more information from you.

“Eh, not really.” You stepped closer to him and slowly held on to the crease of his elbow once more. Taking note that he even adjusted his arm so you could have easier access, you felt a tiny smile forming on your face and a bit of heat as well. “Those dreams just feel so real, ya know? They tend to happen a lot as well.”

“What else did you dream about?”

“Hmm,” Your index and thumb held on to your chin. “Ah. One of my dreams had the same group of people involved and we sort of tried these special candies. We were sitting in a dorm room and it was rather chaotic. Our quir-powers got out of control and we were put under lock down for 3 days. What do you dream about, Akaashi?”

“I’m not that much a dreamer.” He looked down at your small form. The streetlights were shitty, he wasn’t going to lie but somehow they made it look as if you were glowing. “I guess the weirdest would have to be Bokuto-san behaving. That’s about it.”

“You need to dream more.” Nudging his side, you earned a soft chuckle. “And laugh more, too!”

When you finally let go of his arm, he merely bowed and said his good night’s. Waving him farewell, you watched as he made his way for his house. Not wanting him to catch you staring, you went towards yours as well.

Inside your room, you immediately began playing with the Hoya plant. It felt good with how your quirk was getting a little more stable, how you were able to reminisce a few memories about your home, and that melodious chuckle of Akaashi.

It was now time to hit the sack and your lights were finally off. Staring at your palms, the glow was a little dimmer due to your usage but despite the constant activity, the comforting warmth of Todoroki’s fire was gone.

Feeling sadness enter your system, your eyes landed on your window.

At least you had Akaashi and your new found friends to keep you company.

Being nostalgic, you didn’t realize that it was already the training camp. With your things packed and ready to go, you threw your bag to the sofa and skipped to the kitchen. The aroma of (favorite breakfast trio) was very inviting. O-mother was all smiles when you entered with a big smile on your face.

“Someone’s excited~” She poured you a glass of orange juice.

“It’s a chance to travel and be with the team~ How can I not be excited?”

“Of course. You’ve been counting the days since last week. I hope your things are complete. Did you pack your toothbrush? Towels? Undies?”

“Yes, mum.” You gobbled a huge portion of the meal. Swallowing it with the aid of juice. “I got everything down.”

“By the way, I took the liberty of making some onigiri.” She reached for a plasticware with 4 balls of rice. “Share some with Akaashi-kun, okay?”

“Akaashi’s gonna love that.” You reached for the container and placed it beside you. As you were finishing the remaining portion, you only noticed how your o-mother’s stare was a little teasing. “What?”

“You dropped the honorifics with Akaashi-kun?” She covered her mouth and giggled. “Is there something I should know about the two of you?”

“Mum, it’s only been a month since I met him.” Rolling your eyes, you slid your out of the table and touched your thigh. “It doesn’t happen that quickly.”

“You’ve heard of twin flames, right? Or soulmates?” She pinched your cheek.

“I have. But, there’s no such thing. Even if there is, those are just fancy terms.” Drinking the last drop of juice, you stood up and copied her action. She softly slapped your hand away while pouting. “Besides, I can’t dare have feelings for Akaashi.”

“Oh? What’s stopping you? I find him good for you.”

‘I can’t and won’t ever dare develop feelings because I’m not from here and it’ll only hurt the both of us once I leave this place.’ Those were the words you wanted to say. More than aware of the infatuation, you were moderately good at keeping things at bay. The thought of leaving your o-mother behind also added an additional weight. She was always there to offer a helping hand when you needed her. “I don’t think he looks at me like that. Or let alone, has the time for crushes.”

“Well, suit yourself.” She hummed. “There’s nothing wrong with trying to find out, though.”

“Good bye, mother.” Leaving her laughing, you went to finish your morning routine.

Fully ready to leave, you slid your window only to be met with closed ones. Remembering the schedule, it was still too early to leave for school and there had been a verbal agreement that you two would walk to school. Checking the time, you were right on track. He should have been sliding his window open by now.

“(y/n)!” Startled at the sudden call from downstairs, you huffed and closed the window. “Akaashi-kun’s here!”

Within seconds, you were running down the stairs only to be met by your cheeky o-mother. Whispering that he’s in the living room, you also heard her saying how gifted the boy’s face was and that, again, she wouldn’t mind if anything were to happen between you two. Telling her to shut up, you went to the living room and found the setter fiddling with fingers.

“Is that a setter thing?” You pointed and sat beside him.

“Not really.” He bowed a bit to greet you. Bless his soul, you thought. “I apologize if I wasn’t able to do our window meeting. I had to run an errand.”

“No need to apologize, you dummy~ Shall we head out now?”

Agreeing with you, he stood up and hoisted his bag on his shoulder. Just as you were about to take yours, he cleared his throat and took the strap from your hold.

“Akaashi. You have a heavy bag.” You held on to the strap. “I can carry this. I don’t mind.”

“Are you sure?”

Poking his tummy, you felt how he flexed his abdomen. Your mind drifted and flashed a mental image as to how his body would look like without that goddamn shirt. You were granted a small peak at his lower abs but the whole shirt? With the amount of training he did, you were sure that he was hiding a lot under-- Shaking and slapping your thoughts, you pulled the strap.

“I’m more than sure~” Tugging on his shirt, you pulled him towards the door.

Saying farewell to your o-mother, she eagerly watched and teased the both of you till she finally closed the door. Your companion was unfazed but at this point, you weren’t sure if he was affected by the tiniest bit or used to it.

‘Come to think of it, does he have an ex? Probably. He’s too pretty not to have one. Whoever that girl was, she was surely lucky. Damn speaking of exes, what the hell am I supposed to do if I see that Ushijiwaka guy? I can’t even remember his voice that well. Shit. What if they crash the camp? Of course not.’ Absent-mindedly, you held onto Akaashi’s arm but he was already prepared.

“Snack bar for your thoughts, (l/n)?” Those words were enough to snap you back to reality.

With the hand wrapped around his arm, you accepted the bar. Not even bothering to care, both of you were now walking with barely any distance in between. Too caught up with munching and thinking, you failed to notice how the school gate was approaching. With the last crumb gone, you folded the wrapper and tucked into your pocket.

Letting go of his arm, you gave him a cheeky grin before heading towards the parked bus. He was left with a confused look on his face but he merely shrugged it off.

“AGASHI!” Bokuto came sprinting to his side. “I saw that (y/n)-chan was holding your arm! What did I tell you?!”

“Good morning, Bokuto-san.” Of course he would greet his senpai. “She tends to do that as we walk to school. I just let her be.”

“So you are feeling feelings?”

“Not necessarily. I merely enjoy her company. It’s refreshing.”

“Those are feelings, Akaash.” Bokuto pouted as the two men walked towards the bus. “The bar you gave her was your favorite flavor! You don’t even give me that unless it's stale or close to the expiration date.”

“We’re just neighbors.” Letting his senpai enter first, he trailed behind. His eyes landed on you, a vacant seat fresh for the taking. This would have to be a challenging situation. If he would sit beside Bokuto, then the trip would be peaceful. Should he choose you, he could sit in comfortable silence. But it seems as if he didn’t have to think it through.

“(y/n)-chan!”

“Bokuto-san! Good morning!” You waved to him. The way he flopped onto the seat was cute. Tucking his bag under the seat, he stretched in whatever little room was available. Hearing the bones pop, you could imagine the satisfaction.

“Mind if I sit here?” The signature close eyed smile gifted your sight.

“Not much point in refusing~” You playfully slapped his shoulder.

“Hey! Akaashi!” Haruki looked over the bus seat. “I got something ta show you!”

Breaking contact with his two friends, he approached the libero and took the vacant seat. Watching his other senpai fiddling with his phone, he waited and leaned in when the screen was presented to him.

The screen showed a stolen picture of his face. It was only for a brief second, but Haruki managed to capture the exact moment Bokuto beat him at his own thoughts. Staring at the phone, to his seatmate, and back to the phone. He merely sighed and crossed his arms.

“You’re just like Bokuto-san, Haruki-san.” His peripheral view and hearing focused on Bokuto’s laughter 3 seats away. “Childish.”

“Please~ You’re just unknowingly pissed that Bokuto took that seat. Bet she has some food in her bag that’s meant for you, but because she’s that kind of person, she’ll share it with Bokuto instead.”

Now, Akaashi wasn’t one to ever take part in bets. But he did hear from your mother that she had prepared a small snack for the both of you.

“Y200.” The 3rd year libero felt the pride swell in him. For once, he had managed to create a crack on the composed vice-captain.

Needless to say, Akaashi lost the bet.

- - - - -

a/n: i like playful akaashi :3 i hope yall liked this chapter! see you next week! Akaashi’s line up is still accepting players!

#akaashi #akaashi haikyuu #akaashi x reader #akaashi keiji x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyu x bnha

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pkmnsdarkqueen · 4 years

Text

Friend and I rewriting X and Y

Since this will be coming to the blog I figured I ought to explain it a bit more.

Why are we doing this? Look X and Y are games that my friend and I both felt had cool characters, and interesting idea, a really cool region, but some how they story seemed all over the place. There also seemed to be random things cut from the game such as areas in the power plant. We also, only saw clips of the anime, and saw so many fans love the character, since they are good, could see that the possibility of a great story is there. So as Tv/Move makers and video game fans we decided,”Hey what if for fun we gave it a better story?”

So that’s what we’re doing! It’s not going to be a fast thing since we’re playing through the whole game and writing down changes but we thought it’d be fun.

What are the rules? Yes we did make rules for ourselves since we wanted to keep the story on the tracks. The rules are:

1. No character maybe cut or added There are enough characters in this game so adding any is just going to over complicate things. We aren’t cutting any significant characters either because the anime made them all work, and they all are cool characters.

2. Some adaptation to the character is allowed but it must be justified and it must keep to the character’s core. An example of this is Tierno who is still a rival but we were like: you should be able to compete with your rivals and you can’t really compete with his guy so why not use the roller skating mechanic in the game and make him want to be the best roller dancer? So he still have his core concept of exercise and dancing, but now you can compete with him. (and we have a thing planned for this for later)

3. Trainer’s teams can be changed but only 3 things at max. Everyone complains about X and Y needing to be harder and some of it is due to team structure. So we can change the teams a bit but they still have to keep their core theme.

4. Inspiration from the anime is allowed but no copying every detail. This is cheating and lame. We already talked about a kind of epic end battle with the gym leaders fighting with you at the end considering the scale of the evil plan but we want different timing with it than the anime.

So yeah those are the rules we have for it!

When are the rewrites coming out?

Randomly. Sorry this is something we’re doing as a stress relief so it’ll kinda be random when I update new stuff. Also at the end I’ll have one mega rewrite which will have every change since we may adjust things as we go along and by the end may realize we didn’t like one of our beginning ideas and change that.

Anything else you’re doing?

The only other thing is since my friend only plays pokemon games with a challenge we’re doing the Gender Locke challenge while we play. So far we lost 3/5ths of the team on the first gym cause mine were super underleveled and I had nothing for bug types. Rip.

If you want to follow the thing though the hashtag will be #kalosrewrite

or if you hate what we’re doing just block that tag, thanks!

#kalosrewrite #munnings #ooc

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damarcore · 4 years

Text

fics i need to write: au edition

last updated: 4/16/2020

this is SO LONG, i am SO SORRY, but once again i am welcoming all questions about any of these! come poke me with a cattle prod until writing/headcanons fall out.

aerin: hey corlath, catch *throws harry*

tags: aerin drags harry au

here is the single post about it. it is long, so i will not be copy-pasting.

life???/death gods au

tags: gods au

(was once a hades/persephone au but i have no chill, so it Spiraled.)

the land of the dead is being harassed by a mortal but powerful group of necromancers. corlath, king of the dead, goes to the god of diplomacy to ask him and his queen for assistance, and is soundly denied. on his way out, he sees a goddess he doesn't know, and his long-forgotten heart whispers that she's a dead god, too; but why would she be in the living gods' realms?

harry can't remember anything before waking up in the desert between the lands of life and death, but she does know her brother is calling her the wrong name; when she asks him why he won't just call her harry, or why she isn't allowed to set foot in the desert, or how she's supposed to be a goddess of plants when he barely lets her go outside, he only gets a pained look and changes the subject. eventually, fed up, she walks into the desert just to see what he's forbidding her from; there she meets the dead king, who asks how she's brought life into a place that hasn't seen it in a thousand years.

daemons au

tags: daemons au

blue sword edition: settling is when you just decide what form you want your daemon to take, right? it's proper for a lady's daemon to be small and elegant, so cystennin-call-me-tenny is a robin, soft and sweet. sure, it's bad form to turn into other things once you're an adult, but harry figures that being kidnapped is the exception to the rule.

(corlath’s folstza daemon, very carefully carrying a little bird in her mouth, is Not Expecting him to suddenly grow twice her size; corlath’s jaw aches in sympathy.)

(now what, says everyone who is not corlath, staring at the massive fucking wolf laying on the desert sand, knocked out with his human.)

(uh, says corlath, and zhadia stares at him judgmentally as only a cat can.)

(i couldn’t fit it in the blurb, but: luthe’s daemon is a badger, courtesy of @luxpenumbra. this information needs to be in the world.)

hero and the crown edition: it's taboo to have reptile daemons, so of course on top of everything else wrong with aerin, while she's still recovering from the surka her daemon settles as a massive lizard like a flat, wingless dragon she can barely lift to go upstairs.

when they tire of galanna’s pointed barbs about how dragon-like he is and finally finally finish the kenet and get around to killing real dragons, they stretch the limits of their bond over and over, until one day aerin realizes she’s walked twenty feet from kian without noticing and horror dawns on her, and she remembers stories of witches and their range and how her mother’s daemon could fly higher than the tallest castle tower without flinching.

they lose track of each other, with maur. it's just too big, and they're both too injured to move, and at the end of those agonizing few weeks apart they can’t tell the physical aches from the ones in their soul. later, they find it’s almost a blessing; kian can’t climb the steep stairs of agsded’s tower, and aerin can’t carry him and gonturan and all the surka leaves all at once. it’s safer to be apart, for now.

(if they’d known “for now” would end up being a few centuries aerin would have dragged him up the stairs, everything else be damned, but she’s a little glad kian doesn’t have to hate someone with her face.)

the lady king

tags (eventually): corlath-sol au

(or “the one where corlath is a lesbian, because the author is queer and has no chill, and also homophobia doesn’t exist in any universe i write because i said so”)

corlath is seventeen when her father dies. the priests hem and haw and arrange a marriage to some powerful man or another; someone, they reassure her, who will take the throne of the king and lead damar when she is still grieving. every other sovereign has ruled perfectly fucking well while grieving, she thinks, and writes her own name in the book of kings before anyone can stop her. when she first pulls gonturan from its sheath it sings in her hands, calling yes, yes, i’ve been waiting for you, and corlath says oh and cries for the first time in too long.

the meeting at the outlander post would almost be funny; no one in her own country has dared look down on her for her gender in at least a decade, And Yet. she decides within half a second that forloy won’t be speaking for her, not when the big soft thing that calls himself commissioner hems and haws and says my dear madam—hmm—your highness and explains like she’s a child why he can’t help her.

(harry. has never had to look upwards at another woman before. it’s definitely a new experience, and it must be the reason for the strangeness in her chest every time she looks at corlath, right? right. of course.)

dadjack au (until i get a better name for it)

tags: dadjack au. also on ao3, but i’ll be heavily editing those chapters.

(wherein jack is harry and richard’s father, and their mother is a damarian woman who makes somewhat questionable choices about her daughter’s powers.)

miran’s family has been builders and fixers and tinkerers since before the lady aerin killed her first dragon, and so when she sees the glint of kelar in her baby daughter’s eyes she resigns herself to harry taking apart anything with moving pieces as soon as she figures out how to walk. then harry screams, the windows shatter, and the only thing she and jack can think to do is leave the desert in hopes distance will cool the heat of harry’s power. she still carves a blessing into metal chains, begging it to protect her daughter from herself.

(in her fear she forgets the first lesson you learn when dealing with any magic: it is not your friend. choose your words carefully.)

(what does it mean, to be protected from yourself?)

modern au: the blue sword

tags: modern au, twitter au

part one: harry, bored out of her goddamn mind, is Good With Computers. so good that her brother gives her two options: come to daria and switch her major to something harmless, or face the consequences of accessing government secrets for shits and giggles goddamnit harry what the fuck. because she’s not stupid, she goes. then the damarian king comes to visit and she thinks, what the hell. why not. what’s the harm. richard only babyproofed english secrets, and pokes her nose through his phone, just to see.

corlath finds out that someone hacked his phone while he was meeting with the english and is angry for all of ten seconds until he figures out it was some college student, then curious, then horrified and elated. he offers harry a choice, too: he can press charges for her hacking him, or she can tell him how she did it, because damarian code is meant to be unhackable except to those with a Gift, and she can come help him win a war. because she’s not stupid, she goes.

part two: sometime after and during All That, social media exists. corlath loves his wife, aerin is good at being places she shouldn’t, and luthe is cryptic as always.

steampunk(?) au: the hero and the crown

tags (eventually): steampunk au

connected to the modern au! i can’t find my notes on it but it features aerin pioneering clean energy and being a tinkerer, luthe the toymaker, and northern automatons. just all of the automatons.

“my ot3 gets to nap in the sun away from all the bullshit” au

tags (eventually): ot3 au

i don’t have notes for this one either but you should ask me about it anyway because it’s Good. aerin, tor, and luthe navigate this whole relationship thing while one party is an antisocial hermit and the other two are royalty. featuring tor rightfully going What The Fuck at mage bullshit, luthe pulling pigtails, and aerin sighing a lot.

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hookaroo · 5 years

Text

Vocivore, Ltd. (40 of 46)

Also on FFN and AO3 (ListerofTardis)

Tagging @ouatwinterwhump, @killian-whump, @sancocnutclub, @killianjonesownsmyheart1, @courtorderedcake, @facesiousbutton82 <3

***THE MOST WONDERFUL, HEARTBREAKING, and BEAUTIFULLY WHUMPY COVER ART BY @cocohook38 HERE and HERE!!!!!!!!!*************

***Chapter 12 animation and art that will absolutely astound you!!!!!!!!!**********

***LETHAL Chapter 19 art in all of its BLOODSTAINED GLORY!!!!************

**POOR STABBED KILLIAN falling into the sheriff station! Ch. 7 & 23 art!!**

****KILLIAN AND HIS MASTER IN THE GORGEOUS CATHEDRAL!!!!!!!!!!!! CHAPTER 1 ART THAT KILLS ME EVERY TIME I SEE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!*********

*CH 34 ART! A DEFEATED KILLIAN, HEAD BOWED BEFORE HIS MASTER!!*

***CH 36 ART! DETECTIVE JONES BOWS BEFORE HIS NEW MASTER!!!!!!***

***AAAAHHHH!!! THANK YOU MY WONDERFUL COCONUT FRIEND!!!!!!***

________________________________________________________________

Present (Friday, continued)...

How many times now?

In this exact chair, this oppressive waiting lounge with its dusty fake plants and decades-old magazines, a nearly empty water cooler in the corner, a vending machine down the hall that always jammed when you tried to get a pack of Cheez-Its. How many lifetimes had Emma spent here, always anxiously awaiting news on her gravely injured husband, fearing the worst as the minutes and hours ticked by, as people came and went and doctors brought tidings of good or ill?

Had her turn finally come to be on the receiving end of the ‘We Did All We Could’ speech?

Nearly midnight. It had been at least eight hours already. The hospital was thrumming, jam-packed with the influx of newly liberated slaves, all of whom were desperately ill, shell-shocked by the loss of that guiding voice in their minds, and the majority seriously wounded to boot. The ambulances kept coming; most were on their 7th or 8th trip by now despite having crammed as many casualties in each vehicle as was safe. Emma had not been involved in the discussion of whether some could be transported elsewhere to relieve the burden on the relatively small Storybrooke General, but it was by far the closest facility and more advanced than anything else the United Realms had to offer.

Because she’d been on the first ambulance to arrive, Emma had not endured much of a wait to have her minor forehead wound dressed, once Killian had been whisked back for emergency surgery. That would have been a different story now; even with every available physician, nurse, and allied health provider called in on disaster protocol, the ED was packed and wait times for anything less than a life-threatening condition were astronomical.

Emma’s hand clenched around the paper-flavored cone of water she held as she relived the day’s events. Everything had been such a close call. If anything had gone even slightly differently, she and all the others may not have been in this place at all, never mind Killian.

Try as she might, she could not rid herself of the image of the Vocivore as she’d seen it upon entering that abysmal cathedral. How it had loomed over a broken Killian, how grotesquely ominous her first impression of it had been.

What it had been doing to him, in plain view of her and all the other slaves in the building.

Another tear slipped down her cheek, following the salty trail blazed by countless predecessors. The last gulp of water overflowed out over her hand and onto her lap, the cone squeezed into a bitter crumple, and Emma didn’t give a damn about the wetness on her knees because it was such a minor inconvenience to all that her husband had suffered through in the month gone by. And she was at least 50% culpable, by her reckoning.

“Hey. Save some of that for the fishes,” came a gentle voice from the doorway to her left, and Emma scrubbed at her face before rising to her feet.

“Dad.” Her voice was tremulous, low and husky with emotion, and the prince was quickly at her side and wrapping her in a one-armed hug.

“You still here?” he murmured into her hair.

With a shuddering breath, Emma nodded. “Haven’t heard anything for… at least four hours,” she calculated. “They had to pause the surgery in the middle ‘cuz his blood pressure and temperature both got too low. They plan to resume as soon as he’s stable enough.”

If he ever reaches that point, was the unspoken addition.

David gave her one more squeeze before stepping back. He looked haggard, almost on the verge of collapse, so Emma took a seat in the hopes that he would follow suit. Letting out a low groan, he sank into the chair beside her, settling uncomfortably sideways to avoid touching his injured shoulder blade to the seat back. Rubbing his eyes, he gave a report of his own.

“Well, we just brought in the last of them, near as we could tell. There may still be some out in the woods, but we cleared all the buildings at least. Figure we’ll track down the rest when it gets light.”

“Thanks for taking over back there.”

“Of course.”

He was always so good to her; he and Snow both. Always willing to do whatever she asked, regardless of their own busy schedules. Emma could count on them both for anything at any time. Which made this apology so hard, but also so important. And maybe she should have waited for her mother to be there as well, or for a time when Killian could add his own, but Emma didn’t feel right putting it off any longer.

“Dad, I… I’m so sorry we lied to you.”

David looked as if he were steeling himself, and Emma cringed.

“About Hope?” he asked slowly, expression unreadable. She nodded and watched him massage his temples one-handed.

“How much did Detective Jones tell you?”

“Not much,” he mumbled. “He was in a lot of pain; mostly we just waited quietly.”

That was probably for the best, decided Emma. Jones’ own feelings of betrayal may have colored his retelling of the scheme; better for it to come from one of the bastards who had created it and pulled it off. Still, it might have been easier if David had had a little bit of preparation first…

Emma was still searching for the best place to start when David sniffed, cleared his throat, and gruffly asked,

“Does that mean… did you find… something…?”

A chill skittered up her spine. Her father was reaching for her hand, tears brimming in his eyes, and she realized she had unintentionally led him to draw a horrifically incorrect conclusion.

“Shit, Dad, I… no. Hope is fine, really and truly. That wasn’t the lie. She’s okay.”

As relief warred with confusion on David’s tired face, Emma berated herself for making things so much worse. She squeezed her father’s hand, more to get his attention and assure him that he was awake than anything else.

“Hope’s… okay?” he repeated.

“Yeah. With Belle. I swear to you; she’s fine. I’ll need to go get her, once we know Killian’s gonna��”

Emma trailed off, realizing again that there was no guarantee that she wouldn’t be bringing Hope home only to attend her papa’s funeral.

“Belle?” David pulled back his hand in order to clear the wetness from his cheeks.

“I wanted to tell you so badly!” whined Emma, her voice catching on the emotions constricting her throat. “It was killing me to keep it from you. But it was… it…”

The magnitude of what they had all been through struck her yet again, and suddenly, she was crying too hard for coherent speech. She managed one more strangled, “I’m so sorry” before she found herself enfolded in David’s grasp, her face against his shoulder.

“Emma, shh, it’s okay. We can worry about the rest later; right now, all I care about is knowing that Hope is safe.” David laughed a sob of his own. “Those are the sweetest words I’ve ever heard.”

Emma could not be sure how much he had worked out on his own; he must still have a million questions crowding his mind, and maybe once the relief wore off, the sting of betrayal would take over. Truthfully, Emma could not think that far ahead, and she was glad for the moment of grace right now. As she took what comfort she could from her father’s embrace, she barely felt the twinge of guilt over his patience. Now that the pressure was off to tell the whole story, her focus had returned squarely on one thing: Killian. And she could only pray that, against all odds, he surprised them all and lived through the night.

*****

Present (Saturday)...

Neither Emma nor David slept much in the padded chairs, as comfortable as they were for sitting. Worry for Killian was at the forefront of Emma’s thoughts, whether awake or dozing, so that any slight noise set her pulse racing in dread of bad news.

If David had managed to reach Snow aboard the Jolly Roger, Emma had missed that moment. His soft snores at her side--when he managed to drift off for a short while--were a small comfort when panic threatened to send her bolting into the depths of the hospital in search of information. She kept reminding herself of that old saying that ‘no news is good news.’ It did seem to apply in this case, for if there were any change in Killian’s condition, especially a turn for the worse, they surely would come and speak with her. If only to give her an opportunity to say goodbye, should they deem it necessary. So when someone burst into the lounge shortly after 6, Emma nearly toppled a lamp in her haste to leap to her feet.

But it wasn’t Whale, nor was it a solemn-faced nurse.

“The monster is dead?” demanded Regina, immaculately groomed as always despite the early hour. “Why am I only now hearing about this?”

“Sorry,” grumbled Emma, rubbing at her burning eyes. “There was a lot going on yesterday.”

“I had to find out about it from Leroy, of all people. Do you know how that makes me look? A queen so out of touch with important developments that she has to get her updates from the town gossip?”

“How did he find out?” Emma asked. She’d been so busy and then distracted that she hadn’t composed a single message after contacting her father.

“Ambulance driver?” suggested David.

Regina stood glaring the wallpaper off the wall behind Emma’s head. “Care to fill me in, Sheriff?”

Emma was so tired. She lacked the mental energy to convince Regina to wait. And maybe it would have been better to share the story individually with David first, so he could react honestly without the queen watching, but tough. Emma was also too exhausted to consider trivialities like that.

She shared the whole story. And then when it was over, she sat staring at the ‘Employees only’ door, unable to meet the eyes of either person watching her as they absorbed the month of falsehoods in stony silence. Finally, Regina spoke up.

”All those search parties… you’re telling me they were for nothing?”

Emma wilted slightly. “Not… nothing, no… they were to help the monster believe in Killian’s motive. And… well… it worked.”

Regina scoffed, then turned to David. “Were you in on this?”

“No. I wasn’t.”

Emma’s heart twisted just a little bit more at the careful control in his tone.

“And Detective Jones? You mentioned that he helped you yesterday?”

“He helped me get in, yeah. Took a stun projectile to the shoulder at close range but was conscious last I saw him.”

“I’m sure he’s still here,” added David. “I saw him off in the ambulance.”

After a beat of silence, Regina began,

“This is serious business, you know; the sheriff misleading the whole town like this--”

At that moment, Dr. Whale came marching through the door, and Emma truly could not care less about what Regina was saying. The blood drained from her face, seeming to concentrate in her ears as she got slowly to her feet.

“He was touch and go for most of the night,” reported the physician without a word of greeting to anyone, which Emma very much appreciated. “He’s still not out of the woods, to be frank. I’d like to see several numbers come up before we attempt surgery again. But… there has been a slight improvement since we were forced to halt the procedure last night.”

Dizzy and overcome with equal parts relief and fear, Emma nodded and collapsed back into her seat. She had a hundred questions but could not think of a single one.

“Right now, I’d say his odds are about 50/50, and even if he does pull through, he’s got a long and difficult recovery ahead of him. But we’ll do our best for him.

“Now. I’m off to try to get some rest,” Whale told them while the bleak outlook sank in. “Day shift has their orders and will contact me if anything changes. I suggest you try and do the same: you won't be allowed back there to see him for at least the rest of the day. You may as well go home where you’ll be more comfortable.”

Emma just stared at him as if the very idea were offensive. Whale shrugged and moved toward the exit, and if anyone had felt the urge to thank him, they would have been drowned out by Regina, who was hot on his heels.

“Victor? You wouldn’t happen to know anything about Detective Jones, would you?”

Their conversation faded down the hallway, and Emma sniffed. She’d retained a fairly good handle on her guilt where Jones was concerned. True, she felt terrible that he’d been injured in the rescue mission, but at least he’d gone in fully aware and of his own volition. Emma had enough other misdemeanors to regret.

One victim of which sat silent beside her while she tried to shake off Whale’s pessimism. It was the physician’s responsibility to be brutally honest, to prepare everyone for the possible worst-case scenario. Maybe the odds were 50/50 from a purely medical standpoint, but Emma knew Killian. Surely, his stubborn resilience had to stack things more in his favor?

Cringing, Emma cast a sidelong glance at her father, who had not directly addressed her since finding out the extent of their deception. Again, and certainly not for the last time, she squeaked,

“I’m so sorry.”

Not yet meeting her eyes, David slowly asked,

“This whole plan… All of this… you and Killian did it entirely of your own free will?”

“We’re insane. I know.”

“Hope was never in any danger.”

“Right…”

“But you went through with it anyway. Killian…”

He trailed off into silence and Emma braced herself for the inevitable rebuke. And for a moment, it appeared as if David would oblige. But then he shook his head, quiet resolve on his features.

“Nope. Not gonna do it; not yet.”

“W… what do you…”

He turned to her then, and though she could make out the traces of hurt and anger in his eyes, she also saw love and understanding.

“Later. I promised.” He reached out for her hand, wearing a tearful smile. “Today, you need a supportive dad way more than a stern lecture filled with fatherly wisdom. Right?”

As Emma returned the expression with a similarly watery one of gratitude, David added,

“But we’re going to have to repeat everything when your mother gets back.”

Suddenly too exhausted for words, Emma leaned against his shoulder and murmured,

“You said it best just a minute ago. Later.”

*****

Detective Jones hurt everywhere, but strangely enough, what was bothering him the most at present was the donor blood being pumped into him as he lay waiting for something to happen. The blood had been stored frozen, and while it had thawed enough for transfusion, it remained chilled well below body temperature, causing his arm to ache fiercely and highlighting the swollen tunnel from which several inches of coat hanger had previously been removed. A hazy sort of fog seemed to be collecting around the periphery of his room, and though the clock indicated 7:15, he would not be able to hazard a guess whether that was AM or PM.

The whole encounter with the monster had warped into what felt like an abstract nightmare; were it not for the physical proof on his body, he very well could have mistaken his current predicament to be a continuation of the sword battle’s aftermath. He had vague memories of waiting with David inside the church, bleeding and in pain, then treacherous transport by ambulance over unpaved, bumpy roads for the majority of the trip to Storybrooke General. After that, massive doses of narcotics blocked out most of his time spent in the emergency department, although he did remember more pain as the staff worked to assess and stabilize his condition.

Jones closed his eyes, determined to ignore his discomfort in favor of drifting into one of the short naps that were all he'd managed to do since arriving in his room. Inevitably, a nurse would come in to check for transfusion reaction, or a loud cart would rumble by, or he'd be awakened by a jolt of pain or for no reason at all. Given his total exhaustion, it was all very irritating indeed.

Right on cue, the moment he felt himself beginning to relax, brisk footsteps approached his door, then continued inside with hardly a pause. Probably a nurse, then. With a sigh, Jones dragged reluctant eyelids open. Maybe he would inquire about some method of warming the blood so he could get some real rest for once…

It was Regina. The concern on her face gave way to obvious relief when she saw that he was awake, but she covered it up with a dramatic scowl.

"Those idiots!" she ranted, coming to a stop at his side. Jones blinked up at her, already lost. She continued regardless. "What kind of utter imbecile gives himself up to a scream-eating monster on the off-chance it will reveal a weakness to him? And all on the advice of none other than the Dark One, who just so happens to be that idiot's mortal enemy?"

"You've spoken to Emma, I take it." Jones' voice sounded like the baleful call of a territorial raven, gravelly and hoarse. Regina gave him a look, spending half a second to glance around for a glass of water for him, which was nowhere to be seen.

"I might expect something like this from that damn pirate--no offense--but Emma? No one will ever trust another word coming out of the mouths of either one of them!" She narrowed her eyes at him in suspicion. "You didn't know anything about their asinine plan, did you?"

"Not until... whatever day that was." Jones waved his hand vaguely to indicate his complete loss of orientation, then winced as pain shot up his forearm and out through his chest.

"You're no less of an moron for going in the way you did," scolded the queen, though her tone now had much less bite to it. "You should have brought backup."

Jones lacked the energy to explain his reasoning just then. He settled for a gruff,

"Bad idea."

Regina just rolled her eyes, annoyed. "And yours was such a good one, I see."

Rather than arguing the point--an exercise he'd surely lose, even on a good day--Jones rested his head back and closed his eyes. "How is Killian?"

"Not good," she replied bluntly as she pulled a chair near his bedside. "They're having trouble getting him stable enough for the surgery needed to even start fixing him. And Whale said that the neurological deterioration compared to how it was even three days ago is very troubling. You know they still haven't been able to keep one single former slave alive, right?"

"Suppose I should begin planning my funeral then, too," murmured Jones, half asleep. He wasn't too concerned; they'd performed an MRI at some point before sticking him in this bed, and while the official results had yet to come back, Dr. Whale had not seemed troubled by his reading of the images. If there were changes, they would be extremely minor considering how short a time he'd been in the Vocivore's presence.

“You are going to be fine,” commanded Regina, leaving no room for argument. Hurriedly, she moved on. “So what exactly happened out there? The monster is dead, for sure?”

“You're asking the wrong person,” answered the detective, wishing again for a drink of water to soothe his parched throat. “One moment I was under the creature’s thrall; the next, I was flat on the floor and feeling like I'd been shot in the heart instead of merely the shoulder.”

“Emma mentioned seeing a green glow.”

“Did she?” Uneasily, Jones reached for his chest.

“It sounds an awful lot like the effects of your poisoned heart.”

Jones stared at her as dread got a chokehold on his throat. Finally, he slowly admitted,

“That's what it felt like, too.” He took a breath, shuddered slightly at the necessity of admitting it out loud at last, and winced. “But I'm completely cured and have been for nearly three years. I've even got a new heart to ensure it.”

“Well…” Regina looked to be deep in contemplation. “I've been thinking about that. Rumplestiltskin gave you his heart and that's what’s been keeping you alive. Performing all of the duties of your old heart, unaffected by the poison. But... your old heart is still in there, kind of... wrapped around the new one. You don't feel any effects of the poison because the good heart is there, functioning for you. But I think the poison was still inside, and has been all along, only you were no longer cursed.”

Jones felt dizzy, and not just from his physical maladies. "Bloody hell. Are you sure about this, Regina?"

"Of course not; there's no way to be sure until magic is restored, and we're still working on that."

The nightmare had just gotten ten times worse. Jones imagined he could feel the poison coursing through each chamber of his inherited heart, growing stronger the closer Captain Smee sailed the Jolly Roger Kiddie Cruise to Storybrooke. And he could not stop tears from forming at the injustice of it all.

“What would have reactivated it, do you think?” Even he could hear the helpless exhaustion and sorrow in his tone; there was no way Regina would have missed it. She looked stricken for a second and rushed to reassure him.

“No, no; not reactivated, Killian. Transferred. From you to the Vocivore.”

The wave of relief was so strong that for a full minute, Jones felt nothing else: no pain, no weariness or confusion, only sheer gratitude that his happy ending with Alice had not been so suddenly taken away. “Transferred?”

Regina reached for his hand and pulled it away from where it had been clutching the gown over his breast. “That's what makes sense to me.”

“But how?”

“Again, this is all conjecture at this point. Emma was certainly too distracted to give all of the details I would have liked. But from what I gathered... am I correct in believing that you went in trying to suppress any positive emotions that may have alerted the monster to your approach?”

Jones nodded.

“And I assume you accomplished that by recalling painful memories of your separation from Alice.”

When the detective did not correct her, Regina continued as if her conclusions were the most simple connection she had ever made.

“Well, those memories and emotions are inextricably linked to the curse on your heart. They dwell, in part, within the poisoned shell still residing in your chest. So when the Vocivore started literally feeding on those emotions, it drew the poison into itself along with the energy. It could not get one without the other.”

Before Jones could express surprise or amazement at the queen’s revelation, the dryness in his throat caught up to him and he started to cough. This had the unfortunate effect of jolting the wound in his shoulder as well as aggravating the marked soreness in his chest, and he spent the next several heartbeats in excruciating anguish. Regina leapt to her feet, radiating frustration.

“Can't anybody get a cup of water in this place?” She made as if to go out into the hallway and throttle the next nurse she saw until they retrieved the requested water, but Jones reached out to stop her. He cleared his throat several times and finally managed to growl,

“Not allowed. Slated for surgery soon.”

Regina somehow managed to look even more impatient than she already had. “What's taking them so damn long? Haven't you been here for something like 14 hours already?”

Jones gingerly massaged his aching chest. “I couldn't begin to tell you, love. Feels like a lot longer, yet also no time at all.”

He swallowed, winced, and cleared his throat. Regina still looked peeved.

“Let me see what I can do to light a fire under Whale’s team.” She reached for his hand, gave a brief squeeze, and assured him, “Then I'll be back.”

As she made her way to the door, she tossed out over her shoulder,

“Glad you're in one piece. For the most part.”

________________________________________________________________

#ouat fanfiction #killian jones #emma swan #wish realm killian #david nolan #ouat regina #hospital #waiting room #waiting for news #emergency surgery #worry #confession #apologies #blood transfusion #poisoned heart #some questions answered #hooked queen #a little bit #Vocivore ltd

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let-me-love-you-loki · 6 years

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Waking Up in Vegas--Ch. 14

Chapter 14: Send Out an S.O.S.

The Following Monday Night

Mera, Evening, 7:45 PM

The trainer’s room was where it always was, and my things were spread out exactly as I preferred them. All my necessary tools were within arm’s reach, easy to access should any of the superstars need my help. I was never part of the scripted trainer visits—they kept me in reserve for those who were really injured. For the most part, even the fans knew that when I came to the ring, something was really wrong.

I spent a lot of time alone in that room most nights. Sure, there were the times when someone got a little overzealous and either hurt themselves or someone else. But for the most part, I was just there to deal with general sports injuries and required stretching from their physical therapists. Right before matches, there was a steady trickle of superstars. Sometimes right after if someone just needed help with a locked-up muscle.

Otherwise… it was just me and four walls. I kept books with me, so sometimes I would read. Sometimes I had notes or medical records to update for some of the superstars who I saw on a regular basis. Most of the time, thought, it was just my thoughts and me.

With a major pay-per-view coming up, the higher ups were being more careful about the health of their superstars who were set to be big draws. Seth was on the books as going after the Universal Championship at Wrestlemania, so everyone was being particularly careful about his knee and his back.

Which meant he was required to see me before and after his matches from now until Wrestlemania was over. Great, I thought, looking at the note in his medical chart. Just great.

I thought back to the Seth I knew as a kid—back when everyone called him Colby or Brandon’s little brother. He had been so sweet and kind. In high school, he was charming and smart. He’d loved wrestling, putting on shows in his front yard with his friends, covering his basement bedroom in a thousand different names and slogans. But there had been a time—when he was Tyler Black in the ring and Colby everywhere else—when we’d been inseparable. When he’d wanted nothing more than to have me at his side, chasing that dream with him.

We graduated high school. I went to college, fast-tracking through an athletic training program—doing homework by flashlight driving from town to town on the weekends to watch him compete. Forty-thousand dollars of debt to get a degree and a certification to do a job that guaranteed I could be with him wherever he went. Independent wrestling companies didn’t always have fantastic care for their athletes, and I was an added bonus that came along when someone signed Tyler Black. And those hadn’t been bad days.

Crappy apartments, cheap hotels, food that was never that good and half the time cold, long drives and late nights. That had been my life from 18 to 29—eleven years of following him across the world with one company after the other. WWE had made it a little easier with better pay, a nicer apartment, more stability. But it had also created Seth Rollins. He was cocky, self-assured, and selfish. Even though he wore the same face as my childhood Colby, it had been Seth who had ripped my heart into pieces.

Someone knocked on the door. I glanced at my watch, realized that it must have been him. His match started in forty-five minutes. Plenty of time for me to give him a decent once over to ensure that nothing was of concern before he got in the ring. And, hopefully, it could be quick enough that we didn’t have to talk much.

I crossed the room, opened the door. Seth stood there with that annoyingly cocky look on his face, already dressed out in his gear. I fought down the pounding of my heart, the nausea that burned in my throat. “You know the drill,” I said, emotionless as he passed close by.

He hopped up on the table, flopping on to his stomach. I sighed and rubbed my hands together to warm them. It was best to just get this over with as fast as possible.

“Any pain today?” The words came out flat. For just about everyone else, I had a pretty good bedside manner. For Seth, it was all about getting him in and out without too many insults and tears.

“Tight on the left. You know how it gets sometimes,” he said with a knowing something in his voice. He turned his head toward me, pillowing his cheek on his crossed forearms. “Too much strain, you know.”

I forced my thoughts away from memories of the things throughout the years had triggered his aching back. “Tell me when it hurts.”

Dean, Evening, 7:55 PM

I cracked my knuckles, swung my arms to warm up my shoulders. I wasn’t scheduled until the second hour of the show, and I wanted to sit with Mera for a while. It was amazing to me that she had become so perfectly integrated into my life that her presence made me feel calm in a way that nothing did.

As I came down the hallway, I could hear her voice from the trainer’s room. Her tone was even, yet something seemed off. She sounded carefully controlled, clipped. I knew the rules—don’t go into the trainer’s room when someone else was already there—privacy and all that. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t wait outside just in case.

“Use the heat before and after on the back. Rest it twenty-four hours between every exertion. That means matches or workouts. You need to spread it out so that you can even make it to Wrestlemania.”

It took a moment for the response to come. When it did, my blood ran cold. The beast in my chest roared, desperate to get into the room, to keep her safe, to protect her heart.

“What was that treatment you used to do?” The words themselves were innocent, but I knew there was something more to his intent. “It used to work so well.”

“Call a masseuse,” she snapped back. “That’s not part of my job.”

Breathe, I told that primal thing inside me. It writhed in anger and sheer protective instinct. It was like it could sense her discomfort. I watched the door, wishing I could see through it. She was capable, intelligent, and stronger than any woman I’d ever met, and yet all I could think to do was to do everything I could to protect her from even the simplest pain.

The room went quiet. I paced, the worst possible scenarios playing through my mind.

“They never know how to do it. It’s either too much or not enough pressure. You’ve always been able to fix it,” Seth said in a tone that sounded both pouting and deceiving. “This is my big shot, Mera. Help me out here.”

Her visage floated into my mind. I could see the way her liquid gold eyes blurred with guilt, how she might look at him with her lips pressed into a line, her face a mask of discomfort and unhappiness. I’d watched her long enough to know how her emotions played over her features, how her sadness, pain, and shame could bend her into someone that gave away her best self to cater to another.

I knew there were tears in her eyes when she spoke. Just as I knew the answer before she even gave it. “Okay.”

The primal thing in my chest surprised me with the ferocity of its jealousy. It dug in, tried to drive me to bust through the door, to drag her away and remind her that she was mine and I was hers.

It took nearly every ounce of my will to keep myself in control. My feet picked up their pacing, taking me further away from the trainer’s room. It was as much for my peace of mind as it was for her privacy. Mera was my wife, regardless of how long it had been. There was nothing within me that could distrust her.

Seth Rollins was another story. In the last week, I’d seen my tag partner and brother in a new light—as a man who was self-centered, self-absorbed, and selfish. While I didn’t know the details of their relationship, I had pieced together enough to know that Seth had broken her heart completely. The fact that he seemed to be using their history to get what he wanted made my blood run cold.

Mera, Evening, 8:14 PM

I washed my hands in the sink, making sure to scrub the Icy-Hot from my fingers. The tremble that ran through them made me feel sick, stomach turning over as I tried to get myself under control. I hated the way that old feelings came rushing back with the memories of caring for Seth back when he had been Colby and Tyler. Some part of me—a traitorous corner of my heart that reveled in masochism it seemed—still thought there was some good in him, a piece of the old version of the man that I’d known.

My back was turned to Seth as he pulled his shirt back on. The rustle of cloth and the creaking of the padded table let me know that he was up and moving. I grabbed a handful of paper towels and dried my hands aggressively, hoping to hide their shaking. As I tossed them in the trash can, I stepped over to the WWE-issued laptop with the superstar’s medical records on it.

“Knee looks good. Heat on the back twice a day, 20 minutes each time. Strenuous activity only every other day, Monday through Saturday. Full rest on every off day until the match,” I said over my shoulder, already pulling up his medical chart. Once those directions were in his record, booking would have no choice but to go easy on him—perhaps easier than they already were.

Footsteps scuffed across the floor. Flesh met metal, then a heavy sigh. “You know Vegas weddings aren’t binding after 30 days, don’t you? Didn’t Dean tell you?”

The door whined on its hinges. The sound of it thudding back against the frame echoed the weight that slammed against my heart. Every fiber of my being suddenly yearned for Dean, to confess everything that I felt—the confusion and fear. I tried desperately to push away the seed that Seth had tried to plant. After all, Dean and I had already talked about having a real ceremony of some fashion.

I felt my throat close with tears as I realized there was a ticking clock on our marriage.

Dean, Evening, 8:20 PM

I watched from down the hall as Seth walked away from the trainer’s room. There was a smirk on his face that made me wonder what I’d missed while I’d let my feet carry me around the backstage area. That beast inside me roared, sent adrenaline flooding my veins, screaming commands to find and protect what was mine.

Reaching for the door, I heard her sobs. The door banged against the wall as I swept her into my arms. My fingers tangled in her hair. Silently, I swore. I’m going to slaughter him.

Tag List

@bethany99stuff-blog @houndsofjxstice @lunatictoosweet @xbutterflius-effectusx @mother-forker

#waking up in vegas #dean ambrose #dean ambrose fanfiction #wwe #wwe fanfiction #mera reynolds #dean x mera #ofc #oc #multi-chapter #real person fanfiction

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shadeofazmeinya · 6 years

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Solar (5/?)

Chapter Summary:

“Let’s start with a color. What’s your favorite one?”

Gavin blinked, having not really thought of that in a long, long time. He tilted his head back, looking to the ceiling until a faint memory came to him.“Green.”

A/N: yay update! Good thing that I’m ahead on chapters cause man this past few weeks were hard. Again reblogs are really, really appreciated because tags aren’t allowing this to spread. Thank you so much!!

[AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17319107/chapters/42228863

“I can’t fucking believe you haven’t been to the candy shop here,” Jeremy beams as he leads Gavin and Michael along, winding through the city. The bright sun warms their skin, the chilled breeze comforting as they pass through hurried people and reflecting buildings.

“I told you, I haven’t been here long,” Gavin laughs, shifting the few crumpled bills in his pockets, following as the boys were determined to take him on a good shopping spree.

He’s been living with them for a few weeks and Gavin’s never known what joy a simple life like this could lead. The little flower shop is quaint and gets a lot of business, which Gavin hadn’t expected. He never really thought so many people would buy so many flowers. But he likes working there, Jack is very patient in teaching him how to arrange bouquets and how to care for the plants that rest in pots. And he enjoys the work, learning from him all the different types of plants, all their names and colors. Most of his time so far has been helping Jack arrange them and wrapping neat little bows around the wrappings and pots, but he enjoys every minute.

He’s learned that Jeremy mostly works with supplies. Partially because he can easily lift the crates of pots and fertilizer that comes in, but also because he seems to enjoy the role of keeping track of all of it. He knows the name of all the delivery drivers and Gavin can hear them chatting for a while outside with each shipment.

Geoff and Michael work with the customers most often. Geoff helps the customers that come in person, while Michael claims the phone every chance he gets. Geoff is a pretty friendly bloke, even in the short time Gavin’s lived with them he’s noticed quickly that he’s a people person. With a big smile and an entertaining story always on his lips.

Michael was a bit of a surprise, Gavin picked up that he has an absolutely rancid mouth but is bloody hilarious. Especially when they play games together at night, watching Michael get more and more furious only made him funnier and funnier with the insults he pulled out of his ass. Despite all of this, he still did well with customers. At least most of the time.

Most of his time so far has been spent at the shop or the apartment, the work taking up their time until they’re eating dinner and sprawling across the couch at the end of the day. The weekends were busier too; the shop open still on Saturday, but Sunday was just for them. And recently, mostly for them to spend time getting to know Gavin.

Last Sunday was spent with Geoff and Jack, who decided to pile into the one car they all share and take him to a thrift store to get some extra pairs of clothes. Geoff insisted on it, claiming Gavin needed to not smell, but they seemed excited about it all the same.

“What kind of t-shirts do you want?” Jack had said as they roamed through the shelves of color and cotton and strange designs.

Gavin shrugged. “I don’t know? What kind of t-shirts are there?”

“It’s not exactly a wide variety. Usually just really strange graphic Ts,” Geoff hummed as he went through the pile. “Let’s start with a color. What’s your favorite one?”

Gavin blinked, having not really thought of that in a long, long time. He tilted his head back, looking to the ceiling until a faint memory came to him. “Green.”

Geoff smiled and nodded and it didn’t take too long before they were handing Gavin a pile of shirts and jeans to try on, earning a small collection of clothing for him to wear and keep. Jack would laugh every time Gavin found something ridiculous to try on and laughed even more when Gavin actually took a shine to the salmon shorts and mismatching rainbow shoes that he found concealed in the back. Geoff would comment about how fucking weird it looked, but let Gavin add it to the ‘to buy’ pile when he flashed his big eyes to him.

Gavin beamed as it was all topped off with a nice jacket. Geoff and Jack didn’t seem to think it was that great, but Gavin loved it. Even if it sat a little loosely on his frame, it gave him something warm to cut out the chill. The last item was a soft, knitted green scarf. Gavin loved it on sight as he wrapped the scarf around his neck, burying his nose into the fabric. It still smelled like the store, but it was warm. In the end, they had bought a pretty nice starting pile of clothing and shoes for him. Gavin thanked them the entire drive home as he held the plastic bags sitting all around him.

During the time he’s spent with them, and the somewhat ominous way he came to them, they didn’t pry into his history. Which made Gavin glad, as there was a lot he didn’t want to talk about. Or know where to even start. But it didn’t stop the curious glances from them every now and again. Like when Gavin didn’t know some of the video games they’d play, even ones them claimed were popular. Or when he doesn’t have any understanding of how to cook. All the little things Gavin realizes slowly he should know but doesn’t. If they’d ask, he’d just say he’s lived a sheltered life. Until then, he’ll just ignore the looks and keep learning quickly what he needs to. Hoping they never dig further.

Now, however, they were walking through the streets, big, excited smiles on their faces. The two other boys had found out the day before Gavin hadn’t visited this apparently world-renowned candy store and wanted to show Gavin everything about it.

“Jeremy will deny it, but he has the biggest sweet tooth,” Michael laughs as they finally slow, approaching a bundle of stores. “And all the chocolate here is made from scratch or something like that. It’s almost too sweet, but I’ve seen this prick eat three large bars in like a minute.”

“Hey! It was at least like five minutes,” Jeremy chuckles. “But it’s seriously good. And you need to try it, Gav.”

The store itself is small, Gavin notices first. A store like many other of the city, shoved and squished between others, buried at the bottom of the skyscrapers that loom over. It’s distinguishable still, a pastel sign with cursive writing of the name that Gavin couldn’t make out. A rainbow of lollipops and gumdrops sat in the windows, rows of more stretched out behind it. Gavin’s never seen so many sweets gathered in one spot. He doesn’t realize he stopped walking until Michael’s patting his shoulder. “It’s even better inside,” he grins.

Gavin nods, letting him lead them past the heavy doors. The bright colors hang all around them as they step in from the street, twinkling music echoing through the store. Gavin’s mouth hung open as he looked around, eyes scanning as he tries to take in every sight. He hears Jeremy laugh besides him, nudging him lightly in that careful way he is with touching people. “Chocolate section’s this way,” he points.

It isn’t hard to find, Jeremy groaning already as they glance through the assortment sprawled across the shelves. Gavin plucks a simple milk chocolate bar as Jeremy sweeps through a bunch, earning bright laughter from Michael. Gavin quirks a smile back, glancing through the rest of the store to see if there’s something else he wants to try.

As he’s looking around, something catches in the corner of his eye. A familiar color, familiar shape on someone’s clothing that makes him stiffen and mouth go dry. Blue, distinct curled letters, a swirl. A logo shaped in an orb with wind swirled inside it. An image Gavin remembers in painful flashes.

He blinks and then it is gone, the shopping crowd changing around him and he can’t spot it again. It pulls a frown from him, the feeling of ice running down his spine. He surely had gotten away. He’s hidden enough. Gavin pulls his scarf up to cover more of him, turning to stand closer to the other boys, hoping it was just a trick of his mind.

Michael’s eyebrows furrow as he looks to him, following where Gavin’s gaze had been. “You ok? Is there something we need to worry about?”

Gavin shakes his head, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he had held. “No. It’s nothing, just thought I saw something I recognized.”

Michael narrows his eyes a moment, and Gavin dreads that he was going to ask, but he doesn’t, shrugging. “If you say so. Now, if all we’re here for is the chocolate, we ready to pay and go? We need to show you the rest of this city.”

They buy the candy, Jeremy chomping down on one of his bars as they slip back to the street. He gives an exaggerated groan, head falling back as he eats. “Fucking hell, these are so good.”

Gavin giggles, opening his as well to see what all the hype is about. And Jeremy is right, it is sweet, the flavor hitting him the second he takes a bite. The chocolate melts in his mouth and a groan escapes him as well. “These are really good, J.”

“Told ya,” Jeremy mumbles through a mouthful.

“Oh my God, if you’re both hooked on these…” Michael sighs, shaking his head.

They tour the rest of the city while they’re out and off for the day. It seems brighter when Gavin’s walking around with them from when he was hiding in alleys and digging for food to eat. They boys point out various things as they go around, parks Gavin had avoided, now filled with birds and people walking dogs, a gorgeous marble water fountain that sits off with the colder weather, and a few more common stores and restaurants the others have been to that Gavin had dug through the dumpsters behind them but never been in.

It’s another great day that shows to Gavin he’s gotten lucky to be here. The familiar symbol from the candy store is already forgotten as he grins and laughs and enjoys his new favorite sweets. His heart soars and he can’t help but feel that life is going to go right from here.

That feeling only lasts two more days.

It’s early afternoon, a quieter time in the shop, and Gavin’s sitting in the back working on tying a bow around a new tiny pot. He doesn’t look up as the bells jingle from the front door. Geoff’s the one up front after all. He greets the customers and Gavin can hear his voice coming through as he does so for whoever it is. Gavin doesn’t hear what’s said, biting his lip as he fumbles with the bow, trying to make it bend just right. But Geoff’s voice stops and another voice answers, a voice that makes Gavin’s heart stop the second it reaches his ears.

He recognizes that voice. He knows that voice, a rough voice he had thought he had gotten away from. A person he thought he was hidden from. Gavin jumps out of his chair, a need to hide, or run or something filling every sense. He presses against the wall, ducking behind where the door would open as he more of their voices start coming through.

“--should have a British accent, blonde hair, big nose, about this tall. Have you seen anyone like this?”

Gavin swallows, ice running up his spine. They are looking for him. Oh bloody hell, they’re looking for him.

“You know,” Geoff’s voice comes next and Gavin’s breath is punched out of he lungs. He can’t will his feet to move but they should. He should run. Before Geoff turns him in, before he has to go right back. Geoff would, he has no reason to keep him safe. Maybe he can get out before it’s too late-

“I don’t believe I’ve seen someone like that come in here,” Geoff finishes and Gavin stills as he needs a second to have the words repeat over in his head. “There was a British old lady a few weeks back if you mean that. Not many other British people, I would’ve noticed the accent.”

The person sighs and there’s a long moment of no more words being said where all Gavin could hear his blood in his head, chest in pain as he pants. “Alright,” the voice says, sounding disappointed, skeptical. “Well, I’m going to give you a card with a number to call if this person comes in. He’s a dangerous man, you’ll be doing a duty to others by reporting him.”

��I’ll be sure to do that should someone come in matching that description. Now, if you need help getting flowers, I can help with that too. There’s a two for one deal-”

Footsteps sound walking away and silence fills until the bell rings again and the door is closed. Gavin slumps to the ground, head thumping to the wall as his hands shake, finally air returning to him. He isn’t going back. Not right now.

He glances down and sees his hands were bright, a glow flickering in the room from cracks spread down his hands. Gavin gasps and clenches his hands together, shoving them into his pockets to dampen it. Just as some of the light decreases, the door pushes open and Geoff’s face bursts in. He spots Gavin as he’s curled to the floor and his eyes narrow.

“You need to tell me who that is and what is going on. Now.”

#solar #ragehappy #fake ah crew #fahc #freewood #superpowers au #fahc superpowers au #please let me know if you're enjoying this #im hoping the pacing of this is ok #theres a big time jump here #hope it reads well!

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imnotcameraready · 6 years

Text

If Villains Baked Cookies — Ch 1

A/N: hey!! since a few people asked about it, and I had some ideas floating around already, I’m making the story from this post into a longer Thing™. I can’t promise regular updates or anything, since writers block is very good at beating me down, and since I’m very much in the middle of semester at uni, but I CAN promise that I’ll be thinking about this story near constantly. chapter 2′s already in the works lol

also gonna tag @rebelrewriter since you asked about if this would b coming out! i hope you like it ^^

read it here on AO3!

Warnings: Sympathetic Deceit, a curse, cursing, violent threats (no actual violence in this one) — also to note is that this is written as dialogue! it’s all dialogue! all of it!!

Words: 2842

Pairings: some real light platonic moceit? other than that, uh, none. none in this whole story. its just Big FamILY time

Characters: Patton patton and more patton, Deceit, a bit of Virgil, mentions of Logan and Roman

hope you enjoy!

If Patton Hart were considering all of the factors, then he’d be able to trace all of these problems back to gardening. He hadn’t been raised a farmer — his parents had him apprenticed to a healer, which he thoroughly enjoyed, but found much more stressful than he could enjoy. And the grief after having a patient die on his table…. At the ripe old age of 22, he decided to retire from healing and moved out to a smaller village, near the kingdom’s outskirts, and began a farm.

He hadn’t expected it to be so challenging. The village he moved to was a farming village, with his closest neighbors being a few hours’ horseride away, and a royal liason coming to collect the village’s surplus foods every fortnight.

There was a blacksmith, doctor, tavern, city hall, and a small cell block in the village’s center. A few blocks away (closer to Patton’s actual house than the village) was a library, but he hadn’t seen anyone enter or exit it since he’d moved in. In fact, he never saw the lights on, either, and no one ever talked about it.

Farming was hard. The animals listened to him, thankfully, but nothing would ever grow. And he could only live off of animal products for so long (and god knows he would never kill them). Responses from those in the village ranged from sympathetically helpful to sarcastic rudeness, but all pointed toward the soil in his land plot being less than ideal for crop growing. Or something. There were a lot of reasons and Patton had stopped keeping track.

Other people in his little village were farming, though, so he thought that there was something wrong with his methods. Maybe he was using too much water? Maybe he should purchase a different type of fertilizer?

Patton was more of a people person, so his first instinct was to ask his neighbors for help.

Looking back, he wasn’t sure why he thought they would help. His neighbors had been passive-aggressively bullying him for a month, since he arrived. They laughed at him, scorned him for thinking arming may be easy, and refused to help.

Don’t think about them, Patton. They’re not long gone by now. Assholes.

He knew that. But Patton’s a nostalgic guy. And stop swearing! We have children in the house, now.

His second instinct was to go to the library. Sure, he didn’t know if it was open or even functioning, but any sort of help would be welcome, even just one book on farming.

When he went to the library (it was a spur of the moment decision) it was dark.

Patton lifted his lantern a little higher, casting light on the entirety of the high-ceiling-ed room. The library had two floors, as could be seen from the outside, but inside he noted that the second floor had an open balcony down to the first floor. There were a cluster of tables in the center of the room but every wall on both floors was covered in bookshelves, from ceiling to floor. Along with that, there were mismatched shelves between the center and walls, nearly as tall as the walls themselves, all full of books.

There must be something in here that could help, he’d thought, so Patton began looking.

Books were never his strong suit, but he did his best with searching for the right topics. Even just any key words. He scoured the shelves for two days and found….nothing. No books related to farming at all.

On the third day, because Patton was stubborn as an ox, he finally found something on the second floor. Tucked away in the lower-most corner of the farthest shelf against the wall to the left was a book titled “Gardening with Snakes.”

Despite not knowing much about farming, Patton was fairly certain from the beginning that snakes had little to nothing to do with gardening. He knew some snakes lived in gardens —

I don’t happen to do a lot of gardening.

This isn’t about you, yet, shush.

It was late in the day when he found the book, too, so Patton deemed it best to take the book home for reading.

A few pages in and it was clear that this was a book about using magic to garden.

Patton hadn’t considered using magic. As far as he knew, the only people in the kingdom who used magic worked directly with the royal family, and someone had to pass rigorous ritualistic tests to be considered for an apprenticeship.

But here this book was, almost like a “Magic for Fools,” something even he could digest despite not having any experience with the subject. And it looked like most of the magic in the book was actually aimed at gardening. There were spells on improving soil fertility, how to bless water to heal ones’ crops, how to protect farm animals from illnesses….

Patton was absolutely charmed.

Ugh….

It may have been an unconventional means of farming, but he’d lowered his standards for “conventional” fairly far. At this point Patton was ready to try anything.

So, within mere days, this book had him spellbound.

I don’t hate you.

I know you love me.

The first round of crops, using a simple-seeming soil fertility spell, grew wonderfully. The corn stocks were strong and sturdy, and in only one month they had shot up to his height. His spinach actually gave crop in only 2 weeks!

Patton celebrated all night and had a wonderfully fresh salad with a cheese-based sauce.

He didn’t know enough about gardening to know that his corn had grown at half the speed it would regularly, or that his spinach had grown thrice as fast. How would he? The whole point of his plight was that he didn’t know anything about gardening.

And, after the corn began producing after only three months and during the winter, his neighbors began to whisper.

He continued to study the gardening magic book, however, and began planting more crops completely out of season, and yet they grew. The wheat grew tall, the spinach produced plentifully, the green beans thrived….sometimes while covered in snow. There must be some form of witchcraft involved, the neighbors whispered.

And as soon as Patton realized he had a surplus, he began to bring his crops into the market at a nearby town. There was no way he could sell them at the high prices his neighbors would — he was always distraught when he went to the market and found himself a dollar coin or two short of even a loaf of bread. So he slashed his own prices. What need did he have for money, other than the occasional gifts and coins to send to his parents, or for paying for services every so often? People need to eat!

People flocked to his booth, drawn by his low prices and charming personality.

Patton, you’ve never been a people person.

Oh, I have been?

I thought you weren’t doing a story point of view thing.

Fiddlesticks! Don’t make fun of me, Dee, you made me break it!

Anyway.

His neighbors were once again aghast. Within a few weeks, they were up in arms. Not only was Patton drawing customers away from them, he was attracting the attention of the crown.

Now, unknown to Patton at this time, the royal family was well aware of the famine threatening to sweep the country. Access to food was scarce, so much so that most farmers in the nation were gaining less crops every harvest, therefore selling them at higher prices.

In order to secure a surplus of foods for the royal family, the King had ordered for 76% of all crops to be brought to the capital, at a slashed fee. It was like highway robbery!

It wasn��t highway robbery.

I’ve been trying to clarify my metaphors, Dee, it makes Logan feel better. Anyway, the King would send a collector every two weeks, and Patton knew that, but he didn’t realize how much was being taken.

First his neighbors confronted him about his prices. Of course, Patton felt bad for his neighbors, but he also pleaded with them to lower their own prices. People shouldn’t have to save up for a week to buy only one loaf of bread! The food is in plenty, and everyone needs to eat!

Then they warned him. He didn’t know what to think. They’d just been threatening him, threatening to burn down his barn, kill his animals, burn his crops….now they wanted him to be safe?

They said the King would come to his doorstep. Not actually the King but a liason, a squire or some sort of lord or something, to make sure Patton fell in line with the King’s “policy.” And if Patton didn’t, then the King would make sure his farm died with him.

Of course, Patton was more than a little worried either way. He didn’t think being a farmer would make him on the run from the law, but what can you do? He didn’t expect these sorts of problems to just

Crop up.

Ugh. I’m not leaving.

Fine, fine, no more puns! Stay!

One more pun and I’m not going to get Logan to finish the story. I fully care that he doesn’t know what happens.

Alright….

He noted it, dully, and continued with his farming. But, true to what his neighbors said, there was a proceeding of lords who visited his house the very next day.

They told him about the patriotism he’d be donating the food to, how it was for the good of the country. But Patton was good at seeing through lies at this point. But more on that in a bit!

He didn’t know how he knew they were lying, but he knew. So he said no. No, he wouldn’t be giving the King any of the surplus food. All of it should be given to the people, because if the King was getting food from everyone else, then he should be having plenty! And how much was he going to be paying for it? The King had a lot of money. Why should he get such a steep discount compared to the market price?

It didn't make sense to Patton, so he said no. And the lords threatened him with everything his neighbors warned him with. They said the King would retaliate.

So, in a moment that Patton didn’t understand for a while, he responded “I sure hope he does.”

That is the dumbest thing I have ever done. I’ve done a lot of dumb things, but I still think this takes the cake!

Oh, finally giving up on the narration?

You know what, Dee. I think I will. I think everyone should hear me scream about my life from my own voice, with my own name, because DANG NABIT it was hard!

You’re not valid, but it is not fun to listen to you refer to yourself in the third person.

Well….thanks, Dee. Alright. I’ll keep it up then!

That was also not the dumbest thing you’ve done, I disagree.

It was dumb, but you helped. D’you want to explain that or should I?

I think I would tell it better.

Okay, okay, I’ll explain. So, rolling back a bit to the magic book. The magic book Patton found was actually related to a specific deity. Not a negative or positive one, but just a deity of illusions and growth. Because of the growth part, he was one of the many small-time deities who were called upon in help for the harvest.

Since magic had been hoarded amongst the upper-class, very specific deities were picked to be worshipped and, well, taught about to the people. Patton didn’t even know about the deity his book was based around.

At first, he thought it was fake, but the more he used the book’s knowledge in his farming, the more he attracted the deity’s attention. It was the first time a human had called upon his specific teachings in hundreds of years. And then he had to watch this human be threatened by people who were supposedly representing his best interests.

That night, the deity showed himself to Patton. He said he’d been intrigued. Well. Technically he said he hadn’t been intrigued.

This deity, since he was the deity of illusions first and foremost, lied in every sentence. He’d actually been cursed to, by another god! At first it was confusing, but that was just how he spoke, ya know? Nothing he could do about that, and nothing Patton could do!

He said he’d been intrigued by Patton’s use of his magic, because it’d been outlawed years and years ago. Patton, surprised, offered the deity a drink and some dinner.

That wasn’t adorable. A human has always offered me food and beverage.

Look, Deceit! I’d never been faced with a god before! How was I supposed to know what to do?

Fair enough. Please stop.

We had dinner, the deity and….Patton. And they discussed.

Patton wasn’t particularly interested in learning more magic, but the deity promised to teach him all he knew about gardening. But to earn that, the deity also had to teach him other forms of magic. Patton had heard the kingdom’s histories with magic, how the kingdom villainized all mischievous forms of magic in favor of more powerful or controllable forms, but this deity claimed that the kingdom did this by casting away and levying laws against certain other magics and, ergo, certain other gods.

Do you want to explain this part?

Me? Um, well, I think I could definitely do a good job of being understood. And because the story is not yours, I fully believe I could do it justice in telling it. Plus I just want to say it.

Well, alrighty then! Another thing about this deity is that he was lonely. That’s putting it kinda blunt. This deity in particular was mad, mad that he’d been abandoned, mad that he’d been locked away, so he had an ulterior plan. If he could corrupt this one human farmer and make him carry out his bidding, then this god could level the kingdom and kill everyone who put him in ethereal exile!

But he was more lonely than he was letting himself admit, and so was the human. So when the deity showed up every night to teach the human magic, the human would cook up a dinner with whatever foods they had on hand. Soon the tutoring lessons stretched longer, and then the deity just started….gosh, was there even a grace period before you just started living at my house?

I believe there was. I completely remember when I began staying at your house, but after you built me a whole room, well, how could I refuse?

That’s true, I guess! And you cooked a little, too!

Aren’t I just the best house guest?

Good use of sarcasm.

I hate loopholes in the lying curse.

Loopholes are the best! Alright, so then….wait, where was I?

I don’t remember, you weren’t talking about the first King’s messenger.

Oh, right! After Patton took that threat in accidental stride, the messenger….probably went back to the castle and told the King! And I imagine he was furious, because within a week, uh….

Gosh, yeah, that did happen….

Do you want me to tell this part?

Well….

I won’t tell it—

“Hey, Patton?”

Ah—yes, Virgil?

“Um, Logan, uh-he messed up a spell and, um. Roman’s stuck in a wall.”

....He’s….he’s stuck in a wall?

“Yeah, uh, Logan was practicing a portal spell and Roman followed him through it, the portal, but L said he didn’t know, so, uh. It closed. And Roman’s stuck in the wall now, and the extra concrete’s sitting on the ground outside the wall and he’s kinda screaming at Logan. Lo can’t figure out how to get him out, either.”

I….Well, let’s go. Deceit, can you finish telling the story?

“Telling the story? Ah, shit, did I—shoot, I meant shoot. Did I interrupt something?”

Nothing too big! Dee was going to take over for me, anyway! I just figured I should talk about how our big ole’ family came together! Like an oral history?

“.....Yeah.”

And I don’t really want Logan, um, accidentally closing the rest of the portal while Roman’s halfway through it. That would be….wall-ful.

“....”

….

You’re right, that wasn’t my best.

“Pat, I think Roman’s crying by now, and that pun’s about to make me start crying.”

I cannot take over, Patton, you don’t need to deal with that. Tell Logan he’s not an idiot for trying a portal spell this early in his magic career.

He’s not an idiot! He’s still learning!

Yes, indeed, because you also nearly killed yourself while learning.

Hah! You know I did! So that was a truth! Loop those holes, Dee, loop ‘em!

“Patton, can we go?”

You’re right, Virge, you’re right — let’s go.

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bobabangtean-blog · 6 years

Text

coffee & crushes (i like you a latte) yoonkook au ; part 1

➵ part 1: “i’ve caught coffeels for you”

↪ ılı.lıllılı.ıllı now playing: would you be so kind by: dodie clark

“a change of scenery might help you out, hyung.”

namjoon’s words run through yoongi’s head as yoongi steps out of his tiny apartment and into the real world. he sneezes, a small squeak, as soon as the sun hits his eyes. he’s reminded of how much he hates summer. squinting, he makes his way down the sidewalk, staring down at his toes and counting his steps. when he sneezes the second time he curses internally at namjoon for suggesting he leave his safe haven and go to a (probably generic and wannabe hipster) coffee shop down the street.

bells jingle when yoongi enters the cafe. it isn’t as bad as he thought it would be, if he’s being honest. the walls are painted a rich cream, and the atmosphere is nice and quaint. he plays with the leaf of a snake plant as he waits in line for someone to take his order. he is only slightly aware of the permanent frown that has been etched onto his face due to sleepless nights doting over every detail of his mixtape. rubbing his eyes lightly, he steps up to the counter when the barista gestures that it’s his turn. did he leave his light on in his bedroom before he left?

“what can i get you?” a silky voice breaks through his thoughts, and soft doe-like eyes stare up at him.

the man is unfairly pretty (not that yoongi’s looking or anything). that’s the first thought yoongi has in his mind. yoongi subconsciously stares at the boy’s face for longer than probably socially acceptable and takes in that the barista looks like an actual angel.

the barista, now decorated with flushed cheeks, clears his throat.

“what?” yoongi asks, two days of sleep deprivation seeping into his voice. yoongi doesn’t realize he sounds rude until five seconds after the word leaves his mouth, and notes that his face doesn’t exactly scream “hi, i’m having a great time”. he opens his mouth to apologize before cute barista boy beats him to it.

“if you stopped openly ogling me for two seconds, you’d know i’m just trying to do my job and take your order,” the cute barista boy, which yoongi just now notices has a name tag, snaps back, and immediately widens his eyes as if he’s surprised himself.

“u-uh,” yoongi stutters intelligently, as barista boy, named jeongguk, glares at him through tired looking eyes. the glare ignites something in yoongi, and suddenly he’s pissed off too. “i’m sorry. if i’m going to be honest with you, i’ve probably gotten, like, a maximum of three hours of sleep in the span of two days. i didn’t mean to come off as rude but that didn’t mean you had to be rude back. i literally said one word. so. but y’know, service with a smile and all that, right?”

yoongi cringes internally at his harsh words but keeps up his best pissed off expression.

“so i’ll just take a cup of kilimanjaro with as many shots of espresso as legally allowed, thank you, the name is min yoongi just call it out when you’re done,” yoongi hurriedly says and makes his way to a table, cringing at the way the screech of the chair draws more attention to him. he resists the urge to bang his head against the wooden table. yoongi leaves his apartment for the first time in a month and has managed to get on someone’s bad side in less than an hour. lovely.

ears burning, he pulls out his laptop from his bag and refuses to look up in the general vicinity of where jeongguk is stationed. he takes his phone out from his back pocket and texts namjoon for comfort.

yoongi:

help

joon:

? hyung are you okay ??

yoongi:

please kill me. just end my suffering right now. that would be much appreciated. thank you so much in advance

joon:

okay the last time you told me to kill you it was because you told a cashier “love you” instead of “have a nice day”

yoongi:

i had just recently suppressed that from my memory i really needed that right now thanks

joon:

okay but seriously, whats up?

yoongi is about to text namjoon back before he hears his name being called out by jeongguk. he mentally prepares himself for the social interaction.

when he makes his way up to the counter, he notices that jeongguk is looking at him with an apologetic expression, rather than pissed off. shortly after jeongguk hands yoongi his coffee, and offers yoongi a smile, he notices that jeongguk scrunches his nose up like a bunny when he grins, and also notices how he would do anything to see it again.

he plops back down in his chair, the coffee warming his hands up, and sets the cup down on a coaster, opening his laptop lid and clicking on his unfinished mixtape. he quickly texts joon back and updates him on the tragic ordeal that unfolded minutes ago. after joon texts back three laughing emojis and one crying face emoji, yoongi decides he needs better friends, ones that don’t laugh at their other friends misfortunes, and also ones that don't use emojis unironically.

(namjoon and yoongi had actually met through an extremely awkward situation, joon finishing a philosophy 101 lecture and while leaving through the double doors of the university hall, quite literally ran into yoongi and dropped all of his carefully balanced textbooks right on top of him. and then somehow tripped. landing right on top of yoongi. upon making eye contact with him, namjoon blurted “i think you know my boyfriend”, and suddenly jin-hyung’s rambles about a cute tall dork that is too clumsy for his own good made sense. but yoongi loved joon to death, not that he’d ever admit it aloud).

sighing quietly, he moves a few tracks around in his mixtape folder, titled “a messtape”. knowing that all of the songs need to be polished and that yoongi is never truly going to be entirely satisfied with any of the music he produces, he tries to distract himself with a sip of coffee. and then proceeds to burn his tongue on the hot liquid, glaring at the beverage before noticing something else scrawled beneath his name on the cup.

i’m sorry i was rude. hopefully the coffee makes up for it :)

the corners of yoongi’s lips quirk up and he peeks up at jeongguk, finding him staring back. jeongguk grins shyly, and winks when yoongi doesn’t break eye contact. yoongi forgets how to breathe.

yoongi tells himself he won’t go back to the coffee shop. he really does. public places never usually help him focus on anything, and quiet chatter coming from people around him does more harm than good. yet he finds himself going back everyday, burning a hole through his wallet with $3 coffees that have cute pick up lines written on the side.

yoongi tells himself he comes back because the coffee is really good, the espresso being the perfect balance between bitter and sour, and not because of the cute barista that writes cheesy jokes and winks at him every time they make eye contact.

yoongi tells himself that jeongguk’s friendly banter doesn’t make his day five times better, because not only is jeongguk a pretty face but he’s also unfairly talented and funny, and tells himself that he doesn’t want to hold hands with jeongguk and cuddle and kiss him on the lips all the time.

yoongi also tells himself that the coffee doesn’t taste sweeter after he reads the notes on the side of his cup (it does). because min yoongi is not developing a crush on his barista (he is).

“yoon-ah,” jin randomly starts, chopping scallions in yoongi’s kitchen because quote, you don’t ever take care of yourself even though you’re literally 24 and no matter how much you say it i know you don’t actually want to die, so if breaking into your apartment and making you tteokbokki all the time is what keeps you alive, i’m going to do it, end quote. yoongi appreciates jin a lot. “i’m starting to worry about you.”

yoongi looks up from his laptop, sipping his (probably) 4th espresso loaded coffee of the day, eyes twitching. this cup has “i think i’ve caught ‘coffeels’ for you” scribbled onto the plastic in red ink.

“why’s that hyung?”

“i know you’re addicted to caffeine and all, but i think you’ve been overdoing it these past couple of weeks,” jin stares pointedly at the coffee in yoongi’s hand. “don’t get me wrong, i’m glad you’re getting out of your apartment, but are you sure that coffee place isn’t fuelling an unhealthy obsession?”

“i think he’s been there once every day this week,” namjoon helpfully chimes in, bookmarking his page in the singularity is near, and walking over to jin to give him a back hug. “no, scratch that, i think he went twice on monday.”

“i think that’s perfectly healthy,” yoongi replies, unconfidently.

jin raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t comment further.

(it’s around this time yoongi finally admits to himself that the coffee at the cafe is honestly decent at best, and that he definitely doesn’t return day after day for it.

also he realizes that he should probably stop asking for so many shots of espresso in each cup, because he really isn’t a jittery person so why can he suddenly not stop bouncing his knee up and down. it’s annoying. hoseok likes to compare him to a jackhammer.

it’s also around this time yoongi realizes he has a crush on jeongguk. he realizes it when jeongguk smiles and yoongi’s heart does an entire gymnastics routine.

he realizes it in the coffee shop when his heart beats about three times faster, not caused by the mass amount of espresso he now consumes. it’s because jeongguk somehow found his way into yoongi’s heart, entering in from the aorta and stealing all of the oxygen in yoongi’s bloodstream away. especially when yoongi looks up at him from his usual seat at the cafe and finds the boy unknowingly humming to himself, or sketching quickly on a napkin. when yoongi stares at jeongguk taking orders and memorizes all of his little quirks, sitting at his table with a fond expression plastered on his face. like how he tilts his head slightly when he’s thinking about something. or how he pokes his tongue into the side of his cheek when a customer is being rude. or how he bites his nails when he’s nervous.

he realizes it everytime he steals a glance at jeongguk.

it’s around this time that yoongi realizes he needs to confess, because if he doesn’t, all of the adoration he feels for jeongguk might accumulate so much he’ll explode).

yoongi’s ball of nerves feed the frenzy of butterflies dwelling in his stomach. the familiar jingling above the door do nothing to quell the tingly feeling, and yoongi beelines for jeongguk once he sees him working behind the counter. yoongi then curses at the gods because how the hell can someone look so good in literally a black apron and a white dress shirt.

cue flashbacks to yoongi’s previous internal dilemma that ended with an argument with himself stating “he writes cute pick up lines on your coffee cups every time you order, he obviously likes you”, versus “but like what if he just does that so i buy more coffee”.

“hey hyung!” jeongguk’s eyes crinkle in happiness when he sees yoongi. yoongi’s heart beats faster. “same as usual?”

“yeah, thank you guk,” yoongi says, smiling, all gums, at jeongguk because how can he not. “i actually have something to ask you.”

“what is it hyung?” jeongguk looks up and his face holds so much concern it’s overwhelming. then, his face morphs into something of humor. “if you’re going to ask me something dumb like you did last week with, what was it again? oh right, i fed holly a grape and now i’m scared he might die, do you know what to do?”

“you know holly’s my actual baby,” yoongi rolls his eyes, nerves calming a little as jeongguk’s small talk relaxes him. “but no, it’s kind of important. and i’ve been thinking about it for a while.”

jeongguk’s hands falter slightly as he’s packing coffee grounds. he raises an eyebrow as a nonverbal go on.

“so, uh,” yoongi starts strong, the butterflies back and in full force. he didn’t expect this to be so hard. “would you, maybe, want to go out with me sometime?”

jeongguk’s eyebrows raise, almost comically if in different circumstances, and he nearly drops the measuring cup he’s holding. yoongi swallows thickly, and his hand subconsciously goes to scratch the back of his neck.

“with you?” jeongguk asks in disbelief, and yoongi interprets jeongguk’s facial expression as complete and utter disgust, and winces. yoongi looks down at the stone tiles. “of c-”

yoongi finishes that sentence in his head with “-ourse not”, and he dashes out of the cafe doors, face burning and heart sinking, espresso long forgotten.

yoongi doesn’t go to the coffee shop for a while.

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a/n: hello lovelies! i hope you enjoyed the fic so far, i wrote it mainly for self indulgence bc im a slut for yoonkook (oops) and also bc i had a random spurt of “oh wow i haven’t written for fun in years lets try writing fluff”.

-tea 🍵

©bobabangtean

#yoongi #jeongguk #yoongguk #bts fluff #yoonkook #jungkook #suga

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minaminokyoko · 7 years

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A collection of all my Harry/Murphy ficlets, AUs, and drabbles. It’s named after the fact that I am basically the Queen of the Harry/Murphy trashpile and this is my landfill for all my HarriKarri garbage. But some of you don’t know me, so let me outline the contents of the trashpile. The earlier chapters are fics I’ve crossposted on my blog here, but the others are AO3 only since I didn’t want to spam the TDF tag with my nonsense.

Subtle - Thomas has a “subtle” Christmas gift for Harry (and Murphy.)

A Very Dresden Thanksgiving - An AU version of one of Harry's first family Thanksgivings. It's AU because in this universe, Charity's son named after Harry is infant age and not the age he is in the timeline of the series shortly after Cold Days.

Side Effects - Murphy discovers some unusual side effects while sleeping (literally) with her new boyfriend Harry.

Body Swap - An April Fools' spell gone horribly wrong. Or, right, if you ask one stupid wizard.

Murphy’s Bad Day - Exactly What It Says on the Tin.

Movie Night - Harry and Murphy at the movies. Set in 2010.

The Shirt - A random rainstorm bears surprising fruit for Harry Dresden. Pre-Changes.

Movie Night II - It's movie night and Harry knows just what to take his former-cop girlfriend to go see this summer. Post-relationship. Same continuity as Movie Night Part I.

Wedding Traditions - Harry and Murphy suffer through one of the most embarrassing wedding traditions, but maybe it's not all bad.

Shiny - Harry, Thomas, and Maggie should never be allowed to watch Disney movies.

Moonlight and Meddling Vampires - The plan was set. Thomas Raith was going to get Harry Dresden and Karrin Murphy to prom one way or another. Dresden Files high school AU, but bite-sized.

Noise Complaint - It turns out Harry and Murphy's union has some unintended consequences.

In Vino Veritas - A reverse AU scene of the short story "Last Call" in Side Jobs. What if Harry found Meditrina first and Murphy walked in on them?

Escape - An alternate version of Dead Beat, where Harry actually did realize what Murphy was trying to ask him when she came over to tell him to "water her plants"--that she needs an escape route from something she's not ready to face.

When Harry Met Murphy - Just a headcanon about the day after Harry and Murphy bumped into each other for the first time on that bridge in "A Restoration of Faith." Loosely canon-compliant.

Kiss - The first time we see Harry and Murphy kiss is in Proven Guilty, but that's not the first time they've ever kissed aka Three Kisses Before Proven Guilty

Possessives - In which Murphy's grammatical slip-up speaks volumes.

Reflections - A mirror image of Harry and Murphy from the multiverse theory.

100 Days, 100 Nights - Two missing scenes between Harry Dresden and one of the only people on earth who knows Karrin Murphy as well as he does--her mother, Marion.

Home for the Holidays - Murphy takes Harry home for the Thanksgiving holiday. It goes about as well as expected. Post Skin Game.

Kiss (Part Two) - The three off-screen kisses before Proven Guilty...but from Murphy's perspective.

Broken - Karrin Murphy gets a Denarian coin. Post Small Favor, pre Changes. AU.

Of Grave Importance - In the aftermath of Grave Peril, both Harry and Murphy are struggling to pull themselves out of a downward spiral. But maybe they can make it together. Pre-Summer Knight. Harry and Murphy POVs.

Fumble - Harry and Murphy get physical. It's definitely harder than it looks. Pun intended. Post Skin Game.

Update, as of 7/11/18:

Taste: Murphy unknowingly ingests love potion while helping Harry chase down a suspect. Consequences abound. Post Proven Guilty, pre Turn Coat.

Tried and True: Harry and Murphy are out of town on a case and have to spend the night in a hotel in the middle of nowhere. There is only one bed. Well, of course there is. Takes place before Small Favor.

Church Bells: After a nightmare, Harry's got something on his mind involving Karrin and ringing church bells. Post Skin Game.

Steady as She Goes: Something's different in Casa de Dresden and Thomas wants to know what it is. Post Skin Game drabble.

Scars: A companion piece to "Church Bells." Sometimes Murphy has nightmares too. Post Skin Game.

Love & War: It's really not a good idea to threaten Karrin Murphy where a certain wizard can hear you.

Hardhearted: Thomas wants to get to know Murphy better. He bites off a little more than he can chew. Pun slightly intended.

What Mirrors Don’t See: What if the infamous Dream from Chapter 14 of Skin Game had happened to Karrin Murphy instead of Harry Dresden?

Mischief Managed: Harry and Murphy track a serial killer on Halloween night. Murphy's feeling a little mischievous this year. Pre-Changes.

Mischief Managed II: The sequel to "Mischief Managed." Turnabout is fair play and payback is a bitch.

I Won’t Dance: Harry and Murphy have to scope out a perp at a masquerade ball, but Murphy doesn't know how to do the waltz. Fortunately for them both, Harry does. Songfic, sorta.

The Wolf: A warlock traps Harry and Murphy and tries to turn Harry on Murphy. Emphasis on try.

Mambo Italiano: Harry heads to see a witness for a case and get the surprise of a lifetime.

Superconductor: Three times when Harry unknowingly turned Karrin Murphy on (and one time he did notice.)

Midnight Sun: Dresden Files Thor: Ragnarok AU.

Perchance to Dream: What would life be like if Harry Dresden's dreams came true? Post Cold Days, pre Skin Game.

The Truth: The aftermath of "Perchance to Dream." Murphy's POV.

Eavesdrop: Marion Murphy happens upon Harry and Murphy at an...inopportune moment. Drabble. (No explicit squick, I promise.)

Stay: Few things in this world are as terrifying as Karrin Murphy with a cold. Luckily, Harry Dresden is a brave enough wizard to take care of her anyway.

By Any Other Name: Harry reveals his Name to Murphy. It has an...interesting effect on him. Post Cold Days, but pre Skin Game.

Four Letter Word: Three times Harry and Murphy said "I love you" before Turn Coat (and one time when it was implied). Drabbles.

The Cat and the Canary: Murphy gets turned into a cat. Crackfic/Fluff mashup.

Cheers: A new recruit arrives to the S.I. department and immediately learns a thing or two about Harry Dresden and Karrin Murphy.

Twerp Sweating: Harry Dresden and Henry Rawlins have a little chat about a certain blonde cop. Takes place somewhere between Blood Rites and Dead Beat.

Only Time Will Tell: Maggie Dresden meets Karrin Murphy. Inspired by Zoo Day.

Animals: Mouse's musings about Harry and Murphy. He's a hound with a plan. Inspired by Zoo Day.

Father’s Day: Harry, Murphy, and Maggie celebrate Harry's first official Father's Day. Post Skin Game.

Hazardous: Genderflipped Harry and Murphy are on assignment looking for a chupacabra. Pre Changes.

The Soulgaze Part I (Harry): Harry and Murphy finally Soulgaze. Post Skin Game. Two parter. Murphy's POV.

The Soulgaze Part II (Murphy): Harry and Murphy finally Soulgaze. Post Skin Game. Two parter. Harry's POV.

Hope you like these! If you don’t, well, you know where to find me.

#The Dresden Files #Dresden Files #Harry Dresden #Karrin Murphy #fanfiction #fanfics #HarriKarri #HariKari #ficlets #drabbles #AO3 #archive of our own #Harry x Murphy

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spenceraverywrites · 7 years

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First Day (2/64)

Today’s story will focus on the intersection of magic and science in my solar/floralpunk world. I was hesistant to do that at first, but then I realized it’s my world, and I can do whatever I want to do with my world.

So here’s a story about a nature witch named Nagi who is a member of the Planter religion which was a grassroots movement by mixed Terrann-Feino in this world. In the religion, many of the persons can work nature in some capacity, and at age 12, make compacts with a specific way of working -say farming or fishing or weather- and learn how to speak to the planet.

(BTW, Feino are similar to fae, but function a bit more like an elemental.)

As a reminder, if you’d like to track stories in this series, please keep watch on the tag #senseofzshoni. I’ll update when I can, and when it’s in my ability to do so. No pressure 2018 y’all.

Once more, this comes from @heir-to-the-diamond-throne‘s list of 64 Sensory Prompts.

No. 2: Digging your fingers into fresh dirt

Nagi Titus woke up bright and early on New Beginnings.

She stretched, soft brown arms forming a circle above her head as she locked her fingers together, cracking her knuckles as she twisted in bed, forcing herself out and onto the floor. Thankfully, Riani had warmed up the floors: she could hear the A.I. whispering all around her, setting the coffee up to brew and turning the window screens from Night Light Mode to clear so she could see the dim dawn outside. Trees and Blooms and Stars, Nagi loved nem: she knew she had life before living in partnership with an A.I., but what a paltry life if must have been.

For many citizens, today was just another Thursday, but for Nagi, it was Wood’s Day and New Beginnings: auspicious for a Planter. Not many of her kin were in the big cities: their doctrine believed that all the tech and metal and too few designated green spaces choked out the natural flow of energy that they made pacts with. To some degree, Nagi didn’t disagree: she had often wondered if she was a much more powerful witch back home.

But she’d received a calling to come to a big city, and Planters grew where they were needed. It was just their way.

Nagi didn’t bother scrubbing up in the washroom but instead opted to go downstairs to the Altar first thing. It had been the first thing she’d established when she’d moved to the neighborhood of Betweens: she’d done it before ordering a bed from the Wall.

At first, it had been simple, glossy wooden plaques of the family, living an deceased, a few crystalized leaves in bright amber, and her want and scent sticks. Now, it was in full bloom with dried herbs and onions hanging from the ceiling, a trained and tamed bonsai on a small table, and so many scents from the burning sticks that she could burst.

“Today is the Most of days. It is the Beginning from which all come and the End of all that went. From all we go and to all we return,” Nagi whispered, bending from the waist in a deep bow. She drew her arms up, clasped her hands high above and behind her, palms together, and brought them down in front of her as she rose before breaking apart. Each time she did it, it felt like the first: such a simple movement felt so deeply sacred, rubbed her clean and made her feel like a new bloom.

“Well, time to get to working,” she whispered. “Riani, are you up?”

“Ah, good morning Na-sankta,” Riani greeted. “Coffee’s done and there’s a bit of banana bread left.”

“I’ll eat after. I’m itching to get out. You ready?”

“One moment, just switching. I want to see you this morning,” nir low voice replied. “I wanna get all pretty.”

“Y’always want to see me and you're always pretty,” Nagi whispered, and she felt a sharp blush ping through her body.

A pulse sounded deep in the house as the A.I. shifted forms, then a figure stepped from around the corner: a tall figure with navy hair, sharp green eyes, and pale skin dotted with golden freckles in linens and a wide-brimmed hat. Nagi felt a fresh blush tear through her as Riani stepped forward into her space, tentatively, then all at once.

This was the only thing that Nagi surely loved about the city, and she showed that by standing on tip-toe and pressing a kiss to Riani’s soft, silicon lips. Riani wouldn’t have been allowed back home: Nagi’s panjo would have considered it Cursed Work and Blight, though Riani was sweet as the season’s first honeycomb.

“Morning my bloom,” Riani said, low voice hitching. “Do you ever get used to that?” ne asked, tilting nir head. Nagi watched as Riani licked his lips

“No, and I certainly hope I don’t,” Nagi managed.

“Me either. I’ll keep from downloading any understanding of kisses for the rest of my existence even.” Nagi chuckled at Riani’s earnest nature, something that had been built up after years. Out of the box A.I. were so straight-laced, but as soon as Nagi had splurged on a kit for her then friend, now Partner, Riani had become humanly shy and honest, though it felt important to let them still be what they truly were.

They paused together for a moment until Riani remember there was coffee, then they went and filled thermo-pots and got out the hover tray. Without question, they both walked back upstairs then to the small hoverpad at the end. Pressed together, tray included, they fit comfortably in the snug space and Riani snapped, commanding it to go up.

They popped out onto the roof and just stood. It was quiet in Betweens, and Nagi appreciated that. Though she loved City Center and liked the brilliance of The Gig and Tech City and certainly loved all that Suko’rah’a gave to its residences, the city could be too much for a village girl like her. She’d rather a quiet that mimicked Hisu’s peaceable hills and low-tech homes than the glitz and glam of a City Highrise.

Nagi held for a moment longer, let her feet tap on the cool, smooth eco-fiber roof as she observed the flat expanse. Six long beds of dirt were set in deep troughs down at least two meters: enough for the roots to breath and avoid tangling too bad. Nagi had turned those beds last night, sending the last of the Toolbots through, let their crab-claw shovels till and toss and turn until the earth was prepped for first seeding.

It had been quietly exciting, knowing that soon, she’d have new friends to commune with, that she’d be speaking life into the new growth of plants: flowers for A Cut Above below her apartments, vegetables and fruits for dinners and dyes, and a dedicated plot for wheat so she could have real bread and not the synthesized crap that city-folks like to chomp on.

The earth looked soft as a bed, and Nahi was tempted to lay in it and let her body work it, let her wordwork coax green buds and soft, dewy petals out months before they should come, but she didn’t: it wouldn’t be good for her nor the dirt. Instead, she didn’t do the latter, but she did lay, and let her feet and hands dig deep.

It really was bed soft, like her bed back home: the one stuffed with feathers that she and her siblings had collected the summer before Akira had turned 13 and become too cool to spend time outside in the river. The one before Nagi had turned 12 and started academy for wordworking. The memory came up and Nagi felt like laughing and crying, so she did, sound bleeding out over the roof.

Tumble, tumble, tumble: Nagi let the mess of wet earth stick to her skin and clothes. “You’re like a horse,” Riani teased, but that didn’t stop Nagi from tumbling again, from upsetting the neat rows with more digging, from pressing her thoughts of good harvest and deep roots and love into the dirt. Who cared anyways: the Toolbots would fix them again before the midnight seeding.

When she got up, her brown skin was streaked darker, and she smelled like wet days. Nagi hadn’t planned on a scrubbed, but now she entertained the idea of asking Riani to wash her back like how her mother had, to soak in the giant, wood tub tucked in the workshop for a while.

For now though, she wanted the sight creeping in at the corners of her eyes: the sun, a sliver of yellow stretching over the horizon, unobscured by the towers and tiers of city buildings. She wanted the stretch of pink chased by orange that bloomed so far away, signaling the start to Today.

She looked at the beds right as Riani came up, coffee mug in hand, hovertray bobbing in the light breeze, and sighed. It wasn’t Home, and would never be, but Between was a good place for Second Home, here with Riani. With a sigh, Nagi adjusted, let Riani slip and press behind her, nir warm body keeping the early spring tickle from being too cold.

“Not half bad, ne, amanto?” she whispered intimately right as Riani wrapped an arm about her soft, thick waist and together, they watched the dawn creep across the horizon, ready to start a new day.

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2019dclmed · 5 years

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Departure Day

Departure Day -Thursday, May 23, 2019

With my 16 year old cat, Kealy, having gotten sick many times throughout the day prior (even though she was already on antibiotics), I had another night of lacking sleep due to worry.

I went to sleep around 11:30pm, couldn’t get to sleep, took something at 12:30am, and set my alarm for 6am - in case I needed to see the vet at 7am. Of course I awoke on my own promptly at 5:30am. Miraculously all seemed fine with Kealy (after checking the recordings on my Blink camera from overnight). So I set a new alarm for 7:15am.

I was slow to get up & get in the shower since I didn’t need to leave until 10:30am. So I cleaned up the living room & kitchen, did the final prep & pack of the backpack.

I also made a couple of last minute swaps due to the (sad) decline in forecasted temps.

Grabbed some snuggles in my recliner with the kitty (watching the Rapunzel animated series to get in the mood), & pulled out by 10:35am. I stopped at a grocery near Kara’s to grab last minute gas, Wheat Thins, & caffeine pills in Indy.

Our themed-luggage tags. We tend to make these for “big” trips!

This is Kara. I slept well, as I often do, and having finished nearly all packing the night before had a quiet, easy morning. I had even finished emptying my work inbox the night before so other than a few last small to do items, I got to just tidy up around the house, say goodbye to my plants and wait for Gayle.

We left by 12:05pm for lunch at Panera. Our flight was scheduled for 3:30pm.

First it was delayed about ten minutes. Then delayed more. Then the news came: Ground Stop. Due to East Coast storms impacting Philadelphia, everything was stopped from even heading in that direction.

We started talking about rebooking, as it seemed we’d miss our connection in PHL. However, the plane started boarding and figured we’d deal with it at PHL - at least we’d be closer to Barcelona and at an American Airlines hub.

I ended up sobbing all the way to PHL.

Huge Sidenote: Most people, including myself, would read all this and figure, “What’s the big deal? So you take a different flight? Maybe your luggage is late?” For me, this was 14 months of planning falling apart and we hadn’t even left our home airport yet. It was hours of work and planning for this flight, to find an option that would allow me to sleep (as I’m a terrible international/eastbound flier) and in a budget I could afford.

That’s right folks, I mention that almighty dollar, as for some a trip like this can be a stretch. I have a great professional job, but I also chose a profession and position that can be lacking financial rewards. A “big trip” like this is something I need to plan years in advance, which I didn’t have this time, and wasn’t strong enough to tell Kara no. And putting it off just one year woudn’t work since I have to lead a study abroad next May. So this had been a YEAR of scrimping and saving, living somewhat like a “poor college student”, only to completely lose our business class seats. (Yes, I realize as I type this many are rolling their eyes, but in this moment my reality was crushed.)

We landed at PHL at 7:12pm; our connecting flight left at 7:10pm! We were sent to stand in line at a nearby customer service gate, while having learned from the past, I simultaneously called AA. I put in for a call-back as we waited in the line. The Customer Service desk tells us since we’re international, we have to “go over there” to get help - from C31 to A17!

During the trek I didn't hear or feel my phone go off - twice! - of AA calling me back. We initially couldn’t find the international help desk tucked in a set-back cove past A17, but finally got ourselves into that line. I finally noticed the 3rd call-back attempt and after many minutes was told there were ZERO options for anything arriving before… SUNDAY! (Our cruise was leaving Saturday!) Another meltdown, now from anger, had set-in. The phone agent told us to stay in the line we were standing in, that the in-person agent might have more options. What? How?

Finally at the front of the line at 8:30pm we were offered two Economy (not our booked business) seats leaving in 30 minutes to…Paris with a 5 hour layover to Barcelona (BCN). (Trying to rebook us was so challenging, this flight would be via Air France, which is the SkyTeam-Delta, not OneWorld-American network.) It’s a testament to how desperate we were that we jumped at that option, with virtually no questions asked.

When we arrived at the gate to get our seats, they were already boarding! To get any seats together, we were in the very last row- 35 G&H (which gave me deja vu for the very first time I went to Europe). I was able to shoot off a quick email to Barcelona Chocolate Tours, letting them know we couldn’t make our noon tour, as we wouldn’t be landing until nearly 6pm and respectfully requested a refund. We had a suitable Economy dinner and took ALL the drugs we packed to try to get even a little sleep. I think I maybe slept through 2.5-2.75 Harry Potter 1 movies.

This is Kara. Gayle did a good job recapping this crazy set of events. I’ll add in here that we posted a photo to Facebook to commemorate the crazy turn of events as a last notification to our friends and family of what our status was. This specific photo is very important later in the story.

Breakfast on the plane was yogurt & figs - gross. So I had my packed protein bar. Deplaning we certainly asked for help knowing where to go next. As we suspected, there was no luggage when we got to Paris (CDG). Went to Baggage Service and was told to wait until we got to BCN to put in a luggage inquiry. What?! This makes no sense, especially for how long all this might take. Kara called AA and was again told to wait until BCN.

The small bit of “raging idealist” in me thought our luggage should be waiting for us in BCN. That AA knew we were going to BCN via our original ticket and the Air France ticket showed the same. So throw them on whatever the next BCN flight is. Period.

After enduring the long layover at CDG (in a new beautiful Air France, but packed terminal), I put my headphones on to BCN because 1) Chatty Kathy was next to me, 2) Kara and I were 2 rows apart, 3) the aisle dude commandeered the armrest, and 4) Kara & I were both in middle seats.

Arrive at BCN - no luggage. We wait in line at the American luggage desk only to be told to go to the next bay to stand in line for Air France, as apparently it’s the final airlines responsibility to deal with the luggage. So yes, there I am again having a meltdown. Why? We’re told to put in an incident report, which requested our entire cruise port itinerary and that our bags haven’t left PHL! At this time I also got email offering us a chocolate tour for Sunday, but at this late time no refund would be given. Talk about adding insult to injury.

Meltdown Sidenote: Again, many might question the freak out. Here was a much bigger issue. They were now giving us indication they had no idea when or if we might get our bags and we were about to embark on a 7 night cruise with nothing but the literal clothes on our back and whatever snacks & tech we had in our small carry-ons! We knew our same PHL-BCN flight was leaving that night at 7:10pm with an arrival at 9am Saturday morning and basically begged to get our bags on that flight! As it was currently only about noon PHL time, we knew they had plenty of time, but all we were told was they would put in the inquiry (via tele-text?!) and PHL would have to act on it in time. If our bags didn’t arrive on that flight, we’d have only a couple of hours to try to go to unfamiliar stores and buy everything we’d need for PJs, toiletries, dinner clothes, port adventures clothes, and much more.

From Kara - this is where that photo we posted on Facebook came into play. Some might call my family intense. Nearly all the time I call them loving and incredibly supportive. We use an app called GroupMe and we also use Google Location Services to keep track of one another. Gayle and I had difficulty getting on wi-fi at CDG so while my family knew we’d made it there okay because my phone had connected and updated my location, I didn’t really share an update. When we got to BCN and were dealing with the aforementioned request being sent by tele-text, I noticed in the GroupMe app that my aunt mentioned that she’d let a cousin in Phoenix who works for American Airlines know about our plight. My cousin found our record using the photo we’d posted with our boarding pass and, thankfully, our luggage was on the same record as we had actually booked this as one reservation which is not our norm.

Before leaving BCN we somehow had the wherewithal to request the luggage be held at BCN if it arrived, as we didn’t trust and couldn’t take a risk of passing it or a delay in delivery to the hotel &/or ship. We’d determined no matter what we’d return to the airport seeking our luggage Saturday morning, as it was the only real strategy we could take control of.

We finally got to our hotel, AC Hotel Marriott Diagonal D’Illa, around 7:30-8pm and just like in all telling TV shows & films - yes, it was raining. It was fatefully connected to a mall. We ended up with basic chicken sandwiches (and by this I mean crustless white bread with shredded chicken) and water for dinner. I did pick up a piece of chocolate cake, more out of habit than want.

That I couldn’t even bring myself to visit the Disney Store tells you how despondent I was.

Our hotel room was like a “camp version” of a hotel room - just the bare basics. We showered (using every amenity kit we could from the hotel), put our same clothes back on, and borrowed electrical adapters to charge our phones.

By absolute fate we had initially posted a photo of ourselves with our boarding passes on Facebook. I thought I’d covered our confirmation number, but apparently not. Via the “Monroe Family Network” (Kara’s family), her Aunt Idris sent our confirmation number to a distant cousin who happens to work for… American Airlines Customer Service! Through Idris we were told Cousin Kimberley spoke with a supervisor at PHL who had located our bags and would “do their best” to put them on our requested evening flight to arrive at 9am Saturday morning. Another follow-up re-affirmed.

Friday night we also logged onto the Air France baggage site as instructed. The only thing it showed was “luggage found - awaiting confirmation”. At some point I decided trying to apply my social media knowledge (as I’m also a known blogger for a popular TV series). I sent the AA Twitter account a Direct Message with our confirmation number begging them to put our bags on the PHL-BCN 7:10pm-9am flight. Around 10:30pm we got a positive response that yes this would happen!

Between this & Kara’s cousin’s messages, there were more hesitant and slight tears (of relief?), as we feared getting our hopes up.

Continuing to pile on, there was loud party music raging outside our room from somewhere we couldn’t see. So Kara looked for some brainless TV. With my experience in Europe I assured her if she looked long enough she’s probably find NCIS &/or Big Bang Theory. Sure enough Gibbs & the team gave us a slight calm in the midst of our storm. We tried to go to sleep by 11pm (which was only 5pm back home).

I woke up just past 2am. On the AA app it showed our confirmation number to check-in for our PHL-BCN flight - yay! But for a Saturday departure/Sunday arrival - NO! I figured this was our bags and was again defeated. I freaked-out internally while Kara slept. But the AA website showed our bags were loaded onto the requested flight at 3:20pm? Huh? So I took more drugs to get back to sleep.

This is Kara. There isn’t much I can add to this day other than a little more about my, as my niece Ashley said in a Facebook post commenting later on in the week, “creepy” family. Yes, sometimes we are remarkably creepy in how we keep up with each other. But, when push comes to shove, having a team of people in your immediate circle who are always in your corner is reassuring. I’d been checking in with them each time we got a network connection and giving them updates. I got to “meet” my cousin’s wife Kimberley for the first time through this situation and look forward to meeting her in person someday. The family was also watching my Google Location icon pop up all over the world all through the trip. It truly is a good thing to know you’ve got people and they’ve got you too.

Disclaimer: Gayle is a travel agent with Authorized Disney Travel Planner agency - Off to Neverland Travel. Contact me today for a no-obligation quote!

Next up: Embarkation Day! Would the luggage actually arrive?

#2019dclmed

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demon-animatronic · 7 years

Text

Crowley Stories: Puppy Love - Chapter 2

Chapter 2 AKA the rushed chapter cause I wanted to update it lol.

It’s been about a hour and we still haven’t figured out where we were but we did manage to get some food in us when we stopped by a café type place and a guy dropped some French fries for us.

“Do you recognize anymore of this place?” Crowley asks.

“I do. I know I do. But I can’t figure out where we’re at exactly.” I replied.

“But you know you’ve been here before?” Crowley questions.

“Yes. Multiple times to be exact.” I say as we walk down the street.

“Do you think you’ll know anyone here?”

“Maybe…” I think about that. “…I think at least one person I know lives here…somewhere…”

“Heads up!” A voice cackled above us.

Looking up we saw a pigeon perched on a street light and was crapping on a really nice car below him.

“Dude! That’s a really nice car!” I call up to him.

“You’ve been around Squirrel too long…” Crowley muttered.

“I really have…” I said, knowing how right he was.

“What do you care, mutt? Or do you only chase after ‘nice’ cars?” The pigeon called down.

“I don’t chase cars!” I said.

“Why not? Worried about breaking a nail, princess?” The pigeon cackled again. “Oh I’ll gladly chase asshole birds like you!” I growled.

“You need help.” Crowley rolled his eyes.

“What?” I looked to him.

“You’re fighting with a damn bird. Now, we have better things to worry about so let’s go.” Crowley said and started walking.

“Yeah. Follow you’re boyfriend, dog!” The pigeon called when we started to walk away.

“Come down here and fight me dammit! Or are you afraid?” I turned and growled at the bird.

“Nah, I have other things to tend to.” And with that, the bird flew away with me barking and running after it.

“Get back here you asshole!” I barked.

“Lexi STOP!!” I heard Crowley yell, causing me to stop in my tracks.

“Huh?” I turned when I heard a screeching noise and Crowley grabbing my tail with his teeth and forcing me backwards.

“What the HELL happened to your self control!?” Crowley yelled once I was back on the sidewalk.

“I…I don’t know.” I mutter, getting up. “I didn’t mean to run after the bird my body did it against my will.”

“Well, thanks to your lack of self control, you were almost hit by a car.”

“Damn bird probably meant for that to happen…” I grumbled.

“Forget the bird!” Crowley said, angrily. “Now, I for one don’t want to deal with me being a dog alone so at least TRY to control yourself before you almost get yourself killed again. Okay?”

“I’ll try but won’t promise anything.” I replied as I watched Crowley get suddenly picked up.

“Aww what a cute puppy!” The girl said, looking like she was squeezing him. “And you’re wearing a tie too!” She giggled.

“Lexi?” Crowley said, clearly annoyed now.

“What?” I asked.

“Bite her.” He said.

“Sorry but I would rather not get put down.” I replied, giggling at his situation.

“This isn’t funny!” He growled.

“It kind of is…” I trailed off.

“Mommy! Can we keep the puppy?” The girl ran back to her mom, with Crowley in her arms and I ran after them.

“No! No dogs!” The mother turned to her. “Now put that dog down.”

“Aww.” She whined and dropped Crowley.

“Ow…” Crowley whined when he face planted the pavement.

“Okay…so I won’t bite her. But I’ll gladly growl.” I said, walking up to Crowley, checking to see if he was okay.

As Crowley got up, the little girl and her mother walked away, the mother not realizing the daughter had dropped him. Or not caring if she did notice it happen.

“Yah know…we should probably get out of the crowded part of town. Maybe go to a park or something?” I suggested.

“Good idea. Someone probably called the dog warden by now.” He agreed. “Right. Follow me.” I said and began walking in the direction that I knew the park was in.

“You know where we‘re at now?” Crowley asked, surprised and following after me.

“No but I remember where the park is.” I said, sniffing the ground.

“Why the park?” Crowley asked.

“I don’t know…it might not be as crowded there. Plus no streets either. Just birds…heh and squirrels…” My tail wagged unconsciously at the thought of chasing after birds and squirrels or even rabbits.

“You really do need help.” Crowley chuckled.

“You don’t have a need to chase after small animals?” I asked and he shook his head.

“Nope. Must just be you.” Crowley stated, a little quickly.

“Lucky son of a bitch…I mean witch…” I mumbled.

“Anyway,” Crowley said, changing the subject. “Park might be a good place since we’re going to need some sort of shelter tonight.”

“That’s true.” I said. “If only we can get some water somewhere…”

“Would the park have any?” Crowley asked.

“Not any that a dog could get….I think…” I said as we turned a corner and was across the street from the park. “I just wish I knew where we were.”

“It’s familiar so that’s all that matters.” Crowley said as we sat and waited to cross the street.

“I guess…” I shook my head. “This light feels like it’s taking forever.” I moaned as I laid down.

“It’s been a few seconds.” Crowley said. “You’re even more impatient as a dog than you are as a human.”

“Go back to the Hell that you crawled out of.” I huffed.

“No thanks.” Crowley said as the light turned and we ran across the street.

“At least we didn’t almost get hit by a car that time.” I said once we reached the other side.

“By ‘we’ you mean yourself, right?” Crowley asked and I just walked away.

“Aha I got another idea!” I said as we entered the park.

“What’s that?” Crowley asked.

“It’s a nice day. Maybe people are having a picnic and with picnics come food and water!” I said, excitedly. “We need to hope we can find someone having a picnic.”

“Wow. You’re actually smarter as a dog.” Crowley chuckled.

“You are asking to be stabbed and killed.” I said with a glare. “Come on, some exercise will do us both some good.”

With that, I ran off with Crowley following behind. Using my nose, I smelt something really good and allowed it to lead me there.

“Okay, if there’s a upside to being a dog, it’s having enhanced senses. Something smells really good!” I giggled as I ran through the park.

“I mean, I always had them so…”

“Don’t be a joy killer!” I said, looking back to him.

Sniffing the air, Crowley finally started to smell what I had been smelling and started to run faster towards it.

“Here we are.” Crowley stopped when he found 3 women having a picnic. “Finally…some more food and maybe water!” My mouth began to water, wanting some more food.

I barked and ran up to the women, who looked in our direction. However, I stopped with a sudden halt when I saw them.

“What’s wrong?” Crowley asked, trotting up to me.

“I know where we are now…” I said, keeping my eye on the women.

“Thank GOD! Where are we?” Crowley asked.

“Uhh…Sioux Falls, South Dakota….” I trailed off.

“What finally made you remember that?” He questioned.

“I know those people.” I said as I began walking towards them. “Don’t you recognize the one?”

“No…” Crowley looked at them carefully. “…Wait…is that…?”

“Yes.” I said as we got closer to them.

“Jody Mills. Who are the two young ladies with her?”

“Alex and Claire. Her adopted daughters.” I said, leaving the whole Vampire and daughter of Cas’ vessel out.

“Huh. So is she still single?” Crowley asked.

“As far as I know, yes.” I replied and stopped a few feet away.

“Come here, doggies!” Alex said, holding out some bread. “You’re okay!”

My tail wagged slowly and I finished the walk over to them, sitting down on the blanket with Crowley sitting beside me.

“How cute!” Jody said as she and Alex gave us some food.

“Look like strays despite wearing a collar and tie. Not something you see every day…” Claire said.

“Yeah and no tags either…looks like I’m going to have to arrest someone on neglect and neither one of you having your licenses.” Jody said and grabbed a water bottle. “Let’s see if this will work…”

She took a plate and poured some water into it and slid it in our direction, which we quickly began to drink.

“Thank you, Jody and girls!” My tail wagged faster as I drunk the water.

“Hey wait…if we stay longer, will they take us to the pound?” Crowley asked, thinking about that.

“Yeah….probably.” I said, stopping. “Look, we’ll stay and eat. Then if they try to take us to the pound or call the dog warden in front of us, we’ll high tail it out of here. I don’t want to go to the pound as much as you don’t.”

“Okay. That sounds good.” Crowley nodded and drunk some more water.

“Wonder how long they’ve been running the streets.” Alex said, grabbing another plate and putting some bread and other safe food on it.

“Probably a while.” Jody said. “I’ll start calling the warden since they are busy eating.”

“Aaaaand that, is our cue to leave.” I said, watching her take her phone out.

Crowley and I glanced at each other before running away as fast as we could. Eventually we came across some bushes that we were able to dig our way under and hide there for a while.

A couple of hours later, we were not laying under a tree. It was night and the wardens finally gave up and left the park. So we decided to sleep there for the night.

Curling up close to each other so we can keep the other warm, we slowly went to sleep.

#Supernatural #Crowley #Mark Sheppard

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