#my husband is job hunting so like hopefully we’re out of here before the new year

[raeathnos]

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[arhvste]

IWAIZUMI HAIJIME - PROMISES

- summary - in which you reminisce on all the previous journeys and pit stops you’ve made prior to the current journey you’re on where you’re sat in the passenger seat in your husbands luxury car - fluff - x f reader

- an - for @zumisace , look after yourself for me and keep doing well in your classes i know you can pull through and make iwa proud too !! <3

-

“I’ll turn on the seat warmers, just give me a sec.”

Iwaizumi closed the door after you climbed into the passenger seat of his matte black Mercedes-Benz G-class ensuring you had managed to sit down comfortably before securing it shut. Seconds later you were joined in the vehicle by your husband as he fasted the seatbelt before starting the engine and pressing a few controls to ignite a heat from under the leather of the seats.

“So, work was good today?”

You were the leader of the PR team for MSBY, the same team your husband just so happened to be taking responsibility for regarding their athletics training. The two of you arrived at the stadium together every morning and separated upon the entrance of the spacious stadium where he’d make his way down to the gym and you’d retreat to the offices where you’d watch over the team from behind the scenes.

“Mhm, we’re gonna be going over some points for them to discuss in upcoming interviews. Right now, all eyes are on Hinata, we want to make sure he takes advantage of this and gets a good impression across straight away to hopefully garner support immediately.”

Iwaizumi hummed and gave a quick nod before tilting his head back and moving one arm to the back of your headrest as he reversed the car out of the private garage built discreetly under the stadium which was strictly reserved for staff and players of the team. You’d never get over how attractive your husband's casual gesture was, but the feeling of his soft breath against your neck and the way his musky natural scent that you found comfort in would reach your senses made your heart flutter every time he did it.

Successfully swinging the car out of it’s space, Iwaizumi brought his arm back and left it resting on your thigh, the other hand gripping the black wheel as he stepped on the acceleration and pulled the heavy car out of the garage to the small security station where the officer patrolling gave the two of you a firm nod and smile and lifted the gates for you to speed out onto the main roads.

The city lights of Tokyo drowned out the natural light of the stars above but you didn’t mind. After the two of you had lived in Miyagi for so long, the bright and fluorescent lights were a nice change of scenery after spending years under the clear night skies littered with the glittering stars above. Yourself and your husband were familiar with the rural scenery but that didn’t mean you didn’t like the busy and full environment you now lived in.

You’d both come a long way since moving to Tokyo. Previously being based in the Miyagi prefecture and studying at Aoba Johsai, that was your first pit stop as a pair on the way to bright futures.

Being third years with both academic, social and sports parts of your lives were a lot to juggle all at once but you’d both somehow managed. Sure, there was a slight set-back after your boyfriend and his team couldn’t make it to nationals for their final year but that wasn’t going to stop either of you working towards your long term goals as you both knew there were bigger opportunities than nationals that were yet to come.

The next leg of your journey was college. After graduation the two of you felt a big weight had been lifted off of your shoulders as you clung and cried to each other with nothing but pride and admiration for each other. You’d both made it to the end of the compulsory education part of your lives and were ready to write the next chapters. This chapter however, had two parts as Iwaizumi had accepted an offer a college out in California had given him and you had decided to study out in Tokyo where you’d be joined by other briefly familiar players such as Semi Eita and Konoha Akinori whom you’d had very vague introductions to in the past. Iwiazumi had debated with himself for countless nights regarding his offer and whether or not he should take it. It didn’t make things any easier for him knowing that Oikawa was leaving out to Argentina like he’d always planned to pursue his own dream; after all, that boy had the whole world waiting for him and he wasn’t one to leave people hanging.

Despite being adamant about wanting to at least weigh out the pros and cons of going and staying, you finally convinced him that he had a haul of opportunities just waiting to be taken by him in California and you’d promised him that no matter what he picked to do, the love and pride you felt for him would never falter. In return, he promised you that he’d do his absolute best and come back to you with a greater knowledge of the career path he wanted to take and a solid plan of the future he wanted with you.

You smiled softly thinking back to the streaming tears down his flushed face as he pulled and interlocked your pinky finger with his and gave it one last secure squeeze before the speakers announced his terminal gates were open and all passengers would make their way to the boarding line immediately.

It was safe to say that 5 years later and you had both kept your promises in place. The love and pride for him never did once falter despite the long distance between you both and the frustratingly short facetime calls and conversations. You strongly believed in the saying ‘distance makes the heart grow fonder’ and you decided this had been proved as the second Iwaizumi strode out of the return gates and locked eyes with you, the love you had felt for him had suddenly multiplied by a huge sum and you felt an overwhelming sense of pride just looking at him. He had grown even more handsome if that was possible, sharp features more defined, muscles filled out more, taller in height and his skin slightly more tanned as a result of being under the Californian sun over time. He looked more radiant too, the glow in his eyes and the bright smile that wiped over his face when he saw you. That was the second you knew he’d kept his promise to you too.

The two chapters of your years apart had finally closed and the next leg of your journey was one you’d take together again. Iwaizumi was set on making his career out in Tokyo where you had decided you’d be based yourself. Upon his return, he was offered several job offers and interviews at various companies and a handful of professional teams.

It was MSBY’s offer that caught his eye and his judgment only tipped furter in their favour when he remembered that MSBY was the team you were currently working for as a PR team member. Iwaizumi didn’t tell you about the offer, neither did he tell you about the interview and how well it had gone. You were too occupied with your own work and apartment hunting after you had brought up the idea of moving closer into the heart of the city with him to which he agreed immediately. It was only 2 weeks since your boyfriend’s return until you noticed an excitement stirring during the teams training session. Curiosity got the best of you and you wandered down to the large gym where the players were talking excitedly among themselves and Bokuto’s infectious laughter rang through the air.

“Bokuto, what’s Miya done now I swear if he’s-”

There stood your smirking boyfriend, arms crossed over his broad chest and MSBY coaches shirt clung to his frame.

“Glad to be working with you.”

You sputtered and didn’t bother hiding the shock on your face as your mouth gaped open and you tried to form a coherent sentence but had no luck.

“Sorry I didn’t tell you, I wanted to surprise you so… surprise?”

“Asshole!” you ran up to him and he caught you with ease as the players watched the scene unfold in front of them. Bokuto’s excitement radiating off the walls as Atsumu childishly made gagging noises despite Kiyoomi’s disapproving glare aimed towards him.

From then on, life was made easy for the pair of you. All the time lost from when you were separated between colleges, made up with now working and living together. After a week of being official colleagues, Iwaizumi had found a suitable and comfortable apartment for the two of you to move into. It was a little pricey but it was expected since it was located in the centre of the city and besides, the two of you were receiving a very generous income from the jobs you both worked as MSBY were a V-League and highly sought after team with a constant flow of income in all departments.

That was the next stop in your journey together. Moving in.

Life with Iwaizumi was already great but you treasured the first few real feelings of domesticity with him. You found yourself falling for him all over again after signing the papers to legally own the place together, pack up all your old things from your apartment where he had been staying with you until you both found a place suited to your requirements. Moving in officially with him was something you had always dreamed of but never had any clear ideas on how it would become a reality but here you were standing in the new living room of your luxury apartment with the love of your life.

You’d never forget the proud smile he gave you after you’d finally unpacked everything and had your limbs tangled together on the couch.

“I told you I’d keep my promise.”

“I never said you wouldn’t.”

“Fair point.”

That was what life with Iwaizumi felt like. Fulfilled promised.

The next promise he made was when he got down on one knee after a year of living back in Japan and a year of living with you.

“Look, you know I’m no good with this sappy kind of shit but I’ll try for you. Y/N L/N, you’ve been the light at the end of the tunnel for me for as long as I can remember and now look, you’ve helped me reach the end and I’m finally the man I wanted to be, I hope I’m the man you wanted or at least hoped for me to be too. I always held that promise I made to you years ago at the back of my mind and I have every intention of delivering it to you. I want you in my life for the rest of it and I can only pray you’d allow me in yours too so, Y/N, would you do me the honor of sharing the last name Iwaizumi with me?”

Just like that, this man had single-handedly stolen your heart again and you couldn’t stop the happy stream of tears from flooding your vision as you could only nod and choke out a yes before throwing yourself into his arms.

The next pit stop of your journey forward was none other than your own wedding. Nothing over the top since neither of you found yourselves dreaming of an extravagant wedding but your wedding was nothing less than a fairy tale. Old classmates, family and players from other teams from your highschool days attended and congratulated the two of you for finally reuniting and making things official. Oikawa made sure he was back for his best friends wedding and caused a scene as expected, tears of joy pooling in his eyes everytime he looked at the happy couple and his best man speech filled to the brim of old stories and mentions of how happy and proud he was of his best friend to have found himself and the love of his life so early on in his years.

The soft lights and background music created a dreamlike atmosphere as the two of you swayed to your own beat, your arms wrapped around his neck as his were secured around your waist. The soft glint in his eyes held nothing but the purest form of love for you as he continued to allow himself to get lost in your own eyes filled with the same admiration. An unspoken promise.

To love each other and stick together throughout the rest of your life.

Just like every other promise, that one was kept too. It had brought you to the present day and time. You and your husband driving home together after a long day of work. The soft city lights gradually became more scarce as the flashbacks of your memories together caught up to the present time.

Iwaizumi pulled into the private garage and parked the car straight into the usual parking space that was reserved for the two of you.

Stopping the engine, your husband gave your thigh a light squeeze to let you know you were home just in case you’d dozed off on the way back. You turned your head to face Iwaizumi and offered him a small smile.

“You were quiet on the way back, tired?”

Shaking your head you laced your fingers into the fingers of the hand Iwaizumi had left resting on your thigh.

“Nah just thinking.”

“About what?” He raised an eyebrow.

“You, us, how far we’ve come.”

A soft silence washed over the two of you as Iwaizumi looked away for a moment as if he was having his own flashbacks. Giving your hand a squeeze with his larger and calloused one he turned back to face you and grinned.

“You’re damn right we’ve come far I told you, you were always my light at the end of the tunnel, it’s all thanks to you we’re where we are today.”

You laughed and shook your head before resting the side of your head on the dashboard, eyes still meeting his.

“We’re a team Hajime, always have been, always will be.”

Grin never leaving his face, Iwaizumi leant down and pressed a tender kiss to your cheek, the warmth of his lips lingering on your skin after he moved back up.

He knew the two of you had relied and made promises to each other, but he meant it when he said that it was you that had brought you both to the point you were currently at. He wouldn’t have had anyone in particular to look forward to returning to and building a life with if he didn’t have you. You made him want to work hard and do his best and it was thanks to you that he felt like he could say in confidence he had worked hard for everything he had today and that included the matching rings on your wedding fingers.

“So,” He began after a few moments.

“What would you think about maybe expanding our little team then?”

A smirk played at your lips before you leaned up and gave him a knowing look.

“I think the more team players, the better.”

Laughing, Iwaizumi opened his door and walked round the front of the car to open your own door and lift you out as he always did. Taking your hand into his own, he walked beside you back up to your apartment ready to fulfill yet another promise and prepare for the next part of your journey together.

general taglist → @atsumuwoah @bloody-bella @bbymilkbread @miracleboy420 @doggonudez @atsunakaashi @peteunderoos @saturnfarie @toffees-main @zumisace @boosyboo9206 @totorosleaff @27kei

[cacoetheswriting]

unrequited love - spencer reid

Warnings: mild cursing, mentions of sexual assault, mentions of murder, usual criminal minds stuff tbh Word Count: 2.6k Requested By: anonymous : “can you write a spencer reid fic? something ansgsty maybe..”. 

--

No one understands why you do certain things even when you know you're never going to get anything back. - Shahul Hussain

QUANTICO, VIRGINA

The smell of freshly brewed coffee was probably your favourite, especially at ungodly hours of the morning. Closing your eyes for a brief moment you could feel a sort of calm and warmth surround you. The aroma slowly awoke your senses. Your lips touched the brim of the white mug in your hand and you took a slow sip.

“Good morning Y/L/N.” Derek Morgan appeared beside you. You looked up at him from your mug. “I brought you a coffee but I can see you couldn't wait.” He joked holding up a paper cup. “You know me Derek, I’ll take all the caffeine I can get.” You replied grabbing the cup from him. “Especially at four in the morning.” Derek smirked. “Yeah, they have to stop doing that to us.” 

With two coffees in hand, you made your way to the conference room. The rest of the team was already there. You sat at your usual seat, placing the coffees on the table in front of you, and turned your attention to the screen.

“Morning my lovelies.” Penelope began. “I would say good but there is nothing good about it given the case we have been asked to wor-” “Garcia.” Hotch interrupted briefly encouraging her to get to the point. “Right. Yes. No time to waste.” Penelope cleared her throat and fixed her glasses.

“Last night, twenty-five year old Millie Moore didn't return home after her shift at a bar in Riverside, California. Her body was discovered this morning in a dumpster behind her workplace.”

“The killer wanted her to be found.” JJ stated. There was a brief pause before Penelope continued. 

“The kidnapping and murder was linked to four other cases in the state of California spanning over the last month.” The images filled the screen causing you to clench your fists in disgust. 

The small rather insignificant action was observed by the brunette man sitting across from you. Unnoticed by everyone else at the table, Spencer’s eyes focused on your hands before travelling up to your face. He examined the look spread across your features, trying to figure out what was on your mind. 

“He definitely has a type.” Rossi noticed. “Any signs of sexual assault?” Derek questioned. “Yes, actually all of the victims displayed signs of uhm.” Garcia couldn’t bare to finish her sentence. 

“Given the small cooling off period between each victim, we need to assume the unsub has his next target already picked out.” Hotch stated. “Garcia can finish briefing us on the plane. Wheels up in twenty.”

The group nodded at each other and all got up from their seats - all but you. For some reason you couldn't avert your eyes from the gruesome images that filled the screen. 

“Y/N...” Spencer’s soft whisper brought you back to reality. He stood just a few steps away. You titled your head to look at him noticing a concerned look spread on his face. “They look like me Spence. The victims, they all look like me.” 

Spencer cleared his throat. “Humans in fact, aren’t that genetically diverse. So eventually, the numbers would dictate that certain features resembling yours and another persons will randomly combine.” He paused. 

“But that doesn’t mean they are an exact duplicate of you.” He smiled hoping you would smile back. “You’re right, sorry. It’s just a little weird.” “We’ve had weirder.” Spencer said as you got to your feet. The young doctor grabbed one of the coffees for you as you grabbed the other and followed you out to the pit. 

“You know caffeine increases alertness by blocking a brain chemical called adenosine that makes you feel tired, while at the same time triggering the release of adrenalin that’s known to increase energy.” Spencer stated placing the coffee cup he was holding on your desk. 

“If the amount of caffeine is high enough, these effects are stronger, resulting in caffeine-induced anxiety.” You finished the fact for him, slightly rolling your eyes. “Yes Spence, I know. You tell me this every time I have more than one mug in the morning.” The smart doctor shrugged smiling at you. He grabbed his go-bag from underneath his desk and waited for you. 

The friendship you shared with Spencer was an odd one. The two of you were quite close when you were still at the academy. He helped you study for all your tests and was always one to share tips on how to complete certain tasks. 

A couple of years go by without contact. At that point you were a field agent in New York, which is where you reconnected on a case. The spark was instant although neither of you wanted to admit it. This time Spencer stayed in touch. It was clear then that whatever undiscovered feelings he had for you back when you first met resurfaced - but you weren’t ready to explore whether you felt the same.

Next thing you know you were getting a call from Aaron Hotchner with an offer to join the BAU. Something, you later found out, Spencer had fought to get organised. 

It felt like you played with his heart. To an outsider it probably even looked like that - he fell in love with a girl and landed her a dream job in hopes that she would love him back. 

RIVERSIDE, CALIFORNIA

“What if we’re dealing with a disgruntled boyfriend or husband?” JJ posed the question. “He lost someone in his life that resembled the victims.” “Then why kill them?” Derek questioned. 

The team was gathered around a conference table brainstorming. Spencer was the only one not sitting down, not unusual for Dr. Reid. He was pacing around the bullpen talking on the phone, probably with Penelope. 

Your eyes lingered on the back of his head for a moment through the glass window. Something Derek noticed immediately. “Where’s your head at Y/L/N?” You turned your attention to the rest of the team. “What if JJ is right in a way? But rather than a significant other, what if the unsub was rejected by these women or someone who looks like them?” 

Derek nodded his head in understanding. Your eyes scanned the team waiting for anyone sitting at the table to suggest something else. It was Rossi who opened his mouth next however whatever was on his mind was interrupted by Spencer storming into the room.

“Where’s your mind at pretty boy?” Derek questioned leaning back in his chair. “I spoke with Garcia. All of the victims had social media accounts and tagged-” He approached the map pinned to one of the boards. “- three different spots in this location before they were murdered.” With a red pen, Spencer circled one area on the map. 

“The hunting ground.” Rossi stated and everyone else nodded.

“Let’s split up.” Hotch began. “Reid, go with Y/L/N. Derek and Rossi, and JJ you’re with me. I’ll get Garcia to send us the exact addresses, hopefully one of these places will bring us a step closer to catching the unsub.” 

The team got to their feet and one by one left the conference room, leaving you alone with Spencer. “Ready partner?” He asked smiling at you. “Always.” 

It didn't take long to get there, traffic was unusually quiet for California. Plus whenever you’re with Spencer the conversation flow makes the moments pass by quickly - you never run out of things to talk about.

“Looks closed.” You said getting out of the car, shutting the door behind you. “Strange, it’s the middle of the day.” Spencer noted as he walked around the hood. The two of you glanced at each other before moving forward towards the entrance of the coffee shop.

The door wasn't locked so you made your way inside. A small ‘ding’ from the bell above your heads signalised you have entered the premises. An eerie feeling came over you. 

The lights were switched off. The chairs were placed neatly on the tables. Menus were carefully stacked beside the register, sugar bowls placed in a row along the countertop. A wet floor sign was placed in the middle of the room. You walked around it carefully, that’s when you noticed the strong smell. 

“Is that?” You asked looking at Spencer. “It smells like bleach.” The young doctor stated back, his hand travelled to his gun. Slowly, with one hand on your weapon holster, you made your way around the countertop. That’s when you felt someone grab you from behind. A shriek escaped your mouth getting Spencer’s attention. 

The unknown male held your arms behind your back as he led you back towards the middle of the coffee shop - using you as a human shield. He kicked over the yellow sign and stopped. You could feel his hot breath against your skin, it made you sick. “Let her go.” Spencer stated sternly, pointing his gun.

“I’m going to walk out of here.” The male said. “And you’re going to let me.” You watched Spencer shake his head. “I can’t let you do that.” His response wasn't what the man wanted to hear. Frustrated, he drew your weapon from the holster and placed it to your temple causing the air to catch in your throat.

“How about now?” The man sounded angrier. He could sense your fear, just like you could sense Spencer’s. The young doctor met your gaze briefly before looking back at the man holding you. 

“What’s your name?” Spencer asked. The man scoffed. “I’m not telling you shit!” “Tell me your name and maybe we can sort something out.” Spencer said calmly, his gun still pointing in your direction.

There was a brief moment of heavy silence before the man snarled: “You first.”

“My name is Dr. Spencer Reid and the woman you are now holding at gunpoint, that’s Agent Y/N Y/L/N.” You could feel the man shift, as if he was trying to get a better look at you before he turned his attention to Spencer again. “Theo.” He said simply. 

“Nice to meet you Theo. How old are you Theo?” “What’s that got to do with anything?!” 

Your whole body was shaking at this point. 

“O-okay Theo. Tell me this instead, why did you kill all of those women?” “I didn’t hurt anyone!” Theo snapped. “Only a guilty man would hold a federal agent at gunpoint.” Spencer pointed out. “Shut up!” Theo lowered the gun from your temple and pointed it at Spencer. A lone tear escaped the corner of your eye. 

“Why did you kill them Theo?” Spencer asked again. 

“They deserved it.” Theo answered after a brief moment of silence. “They hurt me!” “How did they hurt you Theo?” The man’s grip around you tightened. “They just hurt me!” He screamed. “Now let me go or I swear, she’s next!” The gun was back at your temple. 

Spencer met your scared gaze. The look in his eye was almost as if to say everything was going to be okay, that he was going to get you out of this. You tried to smile. You even mouthed “It’s okay.” at which Spencer’s jaw locked - he wasn’t going to lose you, not like this. 

“Those women hurt you Theo? I know exactly what that feels like.” Spencer said calmly. “Being hurt by someone you love.” You could feel Theo nod against your head. His grip loosened slightly.  

“Do you know what unrequited love is Theo?” Spencer asked and without waiting for a response continued. “It’s love not reciprocated or returned. It’s when you love someone and they don't love you back, they don't acknowledge your love.” Spencer stated. At this point you were crying. Lone droplets escaped your eyes and traced down your cheeks. 

“That’s how those women made you feel, right? As if you weren’t worthy to love them.” Spencer said. You could feel the hurt in his voice.

“They didn't see me.” Theo said, his voice shaky. “They didn't care!” He exclaimed taking a step forward. In doing so, his grip around you loosened completely and you were able to turn around while grabbing his arm that was holding the gun.

Theo kneed you in the stomach causing you to fall back a little. When you looked up he had the gun pointed at you. 

“If you shoot her, I shoot you.” Spencer said sternly, his weapon once again drawn and pointed at the unsub. Theo scoffed. “She's the one that hurt you, isn't she?” Spencer didn't respond. “I figure I’d be doing you a favour then.” 

The sound of the gun being cocked caused your heart to stop. Yet Spencer was quicker. He fired one shot, hitting Theo in the shoulder. This enabled you to overpower the unsub and disarm him.

“Call for backup.” The young doctor said kneeling down beside you. “Spence-” “Call for backup.” He repeated without looking at you. Without saying another word, that’s exactly what you did. 

BAU Jet

The sound of silence filled the plane. Everyone was exhausted to say the least, and catching up on necessary sleep. Yet every time you closed your eyes you felt uncomfortable. Spencer’s words from the coffeeshop kept ringing in your ears, the broken look on his face overwhelmed your brain. 

Slowly, you got to your feet and walked down the jet. The young doctor was sitting alone at the back of the aircraft, head buried in a book. 

“Hey.” You whispered loud enough to get his attention. His head popped up, his eyes met yours. “Hi.” 

“Mind if I sit down?” You asked politely pointing to the empty seat. “Not at all. Make yourself comfortable.” He placed the book down as you made yourself comfortable. 

“Can’t sleep?” “I could ask you the same thing.” Spencer replied. “Well, having a gun pointed to your head isn’t exactly dreaming material.” You breathed with a soft smile. Spencer nodded his head.

There was a brief moment of silence.

“I wanted to thank you.” You said. “For saving my life.” “I was just doing my job.” Spencer replied. “Right.” You sighed and leaned your head back on the chair, breaking eye contact.

“Y/N-” “I’m sorry Spencer.” You interrupted. Confused, the young doctor asked: “Why are you apologising?” “For hurting you.” Slowly, you tilted your head to once again look at the brown haired man. His head was down, his fingers playing with the hem of his shirt.

“I’m sorry for making you feel as if you weren't worthy.” “I just said that to get the unsub’s attention. I said that so he would let you go.” “We both know that's not true Spencer.” 

The young doctor sighed. “I don't know what you want me to say Y/N.” He whispered while turning his head in your direction. “You don't need to say anything.” 

Spencer lifted his hand and slowly using one finger placed a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he did. A shiver ran down your spine at the touch. 

“I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember.” Spencer said, his hand now holding your face. “However, you made it obvious you don’t feel that way about me so I’ve done my best to just be your friend.” He sighed. “Y/N it’s getting really hard to just be your friend.”

He let his hand fall before shifting his body weight away from you. He leaned his head against the aircraft and looked out the window. 

Tears formed in your eyes. “Spence.” You whispered but he didn't respond. Instead, the young doctor closed his eyes.

You knew better than to keep pushing. With your fingers, you wiped the tears from your face and made yourself comfortable before also closing your eyes. 

Hoping you’d drift asleep quickly your mind wondered. Tomorrow, you would talk to him again tomorrow and everything would be just fine. Right?

Never pretend to a love which you do not actually feel, for love is not ours to command. - Alan Watts

--

masterlist

[adenei]

Auror 99 - Chapter 9

Hey y’all! Sorry about the hiatus with this one. I’m so stoked to share that the inspiration is back and I’ll hopefully be back into this one to finish it out!

Slow State of Affairs

The next few days moved slowly. Despite various stakeouts and more research on the state of Vampire affairs in the United States, England, and Italy, they still had very little on Gerteso. He hadn’t been spotted at all entering MACUSA. It was starting to feel more and more like a wild goose chase than anything because they weren’t making any progress. 

Hermione had taken to spending her free time reading Amy’s Harry Potter books. Amy had been kind enough to go back to her apartment and get the rest so that Hermione could see what Rita had written. Ron and Harry had no interest in reading them, so Hermione would just share how accurate they were, which was incredible. Hermione had become convinced that Rita had other unregistered Animagi working for her, and their sole job was to spy on Harry and gather as much possible information as they could.

“You read faster than me,” Amy had commented when Hermione had finished the first three books in two days. “Would now be a good time to tell you that there are also movies?” she asked hesitantly.

Hermione had just taken Goblet of Fire off of the table. She looked at Amy. “What? Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Um...no. Should I not have said that? I thought you might want to watch them, too.” Hermione’s jaw dropped as Amy went on quickly. “They’re really not as good compared to the books! The screenwriters....they really changed a lot with the char- I mean, with you all. We don’t have to watch them if you don’t want-”

“Oh, we’re watching them. As soon as the guys get back from their stakeout today.”

“What’d I miss?” Rosa asked as she came in the door. She’d been at the station in a briefing with Captain Holt and Kingsley. 

“Just making plans for the evening. Any news?” Hermione directed the conversation back to the case.

“Still nothing. Jake and Charles haven’t seen anything. Not sure what the other two are up to. Shouldn’t you be researching the case and not what some bitch wrote about your lives?” Rosa raised her eyebrow in question at Hermione.

“I’ve researched everything I possibly can. Until we get a trace on Gerteso, I won’t know any more than I already do.” It was true. 

They knew Gerteso’s motive, they’d learned everything they could about how the vampires worked, even down to known hangouts and possible headquarters. But there’d been no movement to suggest anything was happening. So, Hermione had taken solace in the books. 

Hermione continued to ponder Rosa’s words as she set the children’s book down, her mind wandering back to the case. Harry and Ron were staking out different vampire hangouts in an attempt to get more information on the Cryptic, while Jake and Charles manned the entrance to MACUSA. Could there be an angle they hadn’t yet taken in the attempts of making a breakthrough?

Her thoughts were interrupted as Jake and Charles walked through the door with Chinese takeout in hand for the evening. “Anything new?” Amy asked them hopefully.

“Nada,” Charles said as Jake shook his head. 

“Whoever this guy is, he must relish in taking his time.” Jake said in frustration.

“Well, if he’s taking his time, there has to be some reason for it,” Rosa added.

“But what is it? That’s what we can’t figure out,” Hermione thought out loud. 

Continuously stumped over it, she shook her head and checked her watch. Harry and Ron should be back soon. As if on cue, her husband and best friend walked in the door with a simple shake of their heads. Once again, no luck.

Everyone sighed as they began tucking into the food. They were all tired and losing motivation. Something needed to give, and fast. In an effort to make conversation, Amy said, “So, Hermione and I are going to watch the Sorcerer’s Stone tonight. Maybe even Chamber of Secrets if it’s not too late.”

Harry and Ron both looked up. “What’s she mean ‘watch Sorcerer’s Stone?’ Hermione?” Ron was looking back and forth between Amy and his wife.

Hermione let out a deep sigh as Boyle said, “You didn’t know there are movies, too?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Harry said.

“Bloody buggering hell,” Ron muttered.

“If you don’t want to watch it, I’m sure I could download the second Die Hard. There’s more than one TV here…” Jake suggested.

Harry and Ron thought about it. “We should probably watch it. At least we’re not watching ourselves...just watching people act like us.”

Amy looked excited, but also nervous. “I feel like I should warn you, as an avid fan, the books are MUCH better than the movies.”

“What d’you mean by that?” Ron asked.

“Well, the first few movies are a fairly good adaptation of the books, but as they go on, stuff gets left out or changed.”

“Wait, so it’s bad enough the story of my life is in a children’s series, then it was made into movies, and those movies don’t even do the books justice?” Harry said in dismay. “Can this get any worse?”

“Well, not really for you, no,” Boyle said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ron asked.

“You’ll see,” Charles immediately went back to his food. Ron looked at Amy for further clarification.

“The screenwriters changed some of the characters. But we may not even get to the later movies, so I wouldn’t worry about it,” Amy said quickly.

“Great,” Harry said. 

They all finished their meal and cleaned up before settling in the living area for the movie. Harry and Ron gladly took a beer from Jake who was offering them up. Maybe alcohol would make the experience easier. They settled into the movie, and by the time they reached the end, Hermione had to admit that, all things considered, it wasn’t terrible. She didn’t speak at first, though. Instead, she waited for Harry and Ron’s reaction.

“Of all the stink people gave about my eyes growing up, they chose an actor who didn’t even have green eyes?” Harry finally said. Everyone burst into laughter at that, and the tension seemed to be released from the air. 

“I suppose it was fairly close, all things considered,” Hermione acknowledged.

“Ron, were you really that much of a badass on the chess board?” Jake asked.

“I- yeah, I guess. They downplayed the injury, though,” Ron said as his ears turned pink.

“Well, it is a kid’s movie,” Rosa commented. 

“How close was the depiction of Voldemort?” Amy asked eagerly. 

“Er, pretty close. Quirrell really was the perfect host,” Harry told her. “And the turban was the perfect disguise to cover him up.” 

“I always did wonder how well Voldemort breathed in that thing,” Ron said, as everyone chuckled and agreed.

The conversation had continued on about the various characters and how closely the characters did or didn’t match their real life counterpart. But Hermione had stopped listening. She was stuck on something that Harry had said. The word disguise kept playing over and over in her mind.

Suddenly, Hermione looked up at the rest of the group around the room. “That’s it!” 

“What? Hermione, we might need to have a talk if Alan Rickman as Snape gets you off…” Ron joked.

“I- What?” Hermione looked at him. She didn’t let the confusion of his words bother her for very long, though. “Nevermind that. What if Gerteso is using a disguise to get in and out of MACUSA?”

“What makes you say that?” Jake asked.

“Well, you’ve been staking out the entrance every day. After the altercation in the alley, he’s bound to remember you! He’s been so secretive and getting away with things for so long. Of course he’s not moving around in the open, especially now that he knows we’re onto him! He must be disguising himself!”

Realization began to dawn on everyone. “You know, Hermione, you might just be onto something!” Harry said.

“And we’ve been spending all this time in underground vampire bars, when we should be watching MACUSA!” Ron said. “Hermione, you really are a genius!”

Hermione blushed at his words. Even after years of marriage, his praise always meant the world to her. Instead of thanking him though, she said, “Always the tone of surprise,” as she smiled at him. 

It was always their ‘thing’ that they said to each other, though perhaps the whole world also knew, too. She’d have to make a note to check for that when she got to the seventh book. If Rita did have such close tabs on them, even during the hunt, she had to give her credit for not selling them out to Voldemort…

“...Earth to Hermione,” she heard Jake say, “So what do you suggest tomorrow’s plan be, then?”

“Oh..right, sorry. Well, Harry and Ron should probably go investigate in the wand records office tomorrow.”

“But we don’t know what we’re investigating,” Harry said. “It’s not like we know The Cryptic’s actual name.”

Hermione furrowed her brow as she thought about what Harry had said. He was right, but before she could work it out herself, Amy chimed in. “What if you don’t need to know his name? Is there a visitor log you can track?”

“Yes! There’s a general sign in at the lobby, and another more detailed one in the wand records office. They don’t typically let anyone in that office.” Hermione answered.

“So if Gerteso’s been there, we’ll have a way to see what he was looking for,” Boyle said.

“Or what he found!” Jake added.

“And if he hasn’t been yet, he’s still working out a plan to get what he’s looking for successfully,” said Rosa. “If that’s the case, we’ll be more prepared to catch him.”

Everyone nodded in agreement. Hermione’s mind was in overdrive, formulating details for tomorrow. “Now, we plan.”

[thisdreamplace]

Hi! I would love to ask for some advice on a more specific situation.

When my grandma passed, she didn’t leave a will, therefore it’s gonna follow legal procedures here and each family gets 1/3. However, my dad refuses to talk to the lawyer my aunt has hired because he finds it unfair, which is kind of is. My dad was the one who took care of my grandma, provided for her (her money comes from my dad, he gives her a decent sum each month), spent time with her, carried her up and down the stairs, etc. Meanwhile, my aunt was in another country and she brags to everyone about how she sends money and that she was the one who took care of my grandma even though she’s overseas, which are all lies. My uncle passed away, but before he did he provided for my grandma sometimes, too. Anyways, my dad gets so mad, like a literal explosive and I am not exaggerating when my mom and I mention to him to just sign it and leave this behind us. He gets so cross, his face twists together and I am truly at a loss of words for how angry he is every single time and how frightened and scared and on the verge of tears I always become. He wants to sit down with everyone, my aunt, my cousins (on behalf of my uncle who passed) and just yell out everything he’s done for my grandma when they were nowhere to be found and I guess, guilt them to giving us more. Knowing my family, my dad is gonna be a bomb going off, my cousins are going to think he is insane and my aunt could not care less. She will literally find a loophole somewhere and perhaps give us nothing at all whilst she brags to her friends, family friends and her husband + children about how noble she is.

This has been going on for two years and I wanted to use EIYPO and build my self concept with manifesting, but I kinda deem this as impossible and with everything else that’s going on in my life (job hunt that’s been going on for a year, pressure to move out, etc). I find it hard to focus my energy on all the things on my list. I want to go through it one thing at a time but when I focus on something, and something else pops on and I get triggered and dizzy. Idk!

Thank you for reading this very long rant. I appreciate you so, so much. I am truly happy for you for being stable and growing so much into your power. Seriously! It’s been wonderful following you along your journey 💛

Hi!

So this is a really emotionally taxing situation. I understand why it feels impossible. Like, it's a lot and you probably really don't see a way out. The good news is, there most surely is a way out and the result can be a beautiful one.

You're already using eiypo so no need to think of it heavily. The only thing you need to do is build your concept of self right now. You deeming it impossible is just a reflection of your self concept. When you spend more time realizing how you're God of your reality, then you'll see how there's infinite possibilities instead. See, it's not about them. It was never about them. All of the states everyone are in, is a reflection of you. So that's why you are the most important one in this equation. Although it may seem like it's bigger than you or has little to do with you. It's all you!

As Neville would say, turn your back on the world of shadows and focus on your inner world. And I get that may be hard, given how intense this circumstance is. But it's not impossible to do. You don't even need to go down a list. Like, wouldn't it be lovely if life just went your way, and you didn't have to focus on every area individually? What if you could just want something and rest assured it's yours for the taking? Because that's what self concept work is ultimately going to do for you. No more needing to manifest one by one. You can sit back, relax, and watch your world move to match you.

So yeah, it's time to just focus on yourself. And this mainly means in the way of building confidence, trust, and faith in who you really are and your abilities as God of your reality. Spend more time understanding how this world works, as it's a mirror. So as you lift yourself up within, everyone around you must be lifted up with you. Plus, that outcome with your family is your decision. You don't have to back down to the 3D. In your mind, decide how you really want it to go... then decide it's done. Outside of that, just focus on lifting yourself up and instilling that inner confidence within.

Thank you so much for your super kind words! That really means a lot. I'm glad that we're all on these journeys together. Hopefully this was helpful! 💖

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #289

“life by life / waste to waste / i’m the harbinger, the master of decay”

How often do you watch the news? Never. Would you rather read the news online? Yeah. Speaking of being online, what website do you visit the most? YouTube. Have you ever held a snake? Plenty. Ever caught a turtle? What about a crawfish? Turtles, yes, as a kid. Please do not take animals out of the wild for no good reason, people. I never touched crawfish because they looked scary lmao. Have you ever eaten gumbo? Idk what that is. Or do you not like spicy food? I enjoy spicy food, but not nearly as much as when I was a teen. Back then, I loved the adrenaline rush, now I just wanna enjoy my food like a normal person, lol. Do you own a bottle of hand sanitizer? Do you like how it smells? Does anyone NOT at this time? Or even before, really? But anyway, no, I don't like the smell. Do you own a pool table? What about an air hockey table? Or a foosball table? Okay so one of the coolest things we had when I was younger was this table that had different "tops" to change out to turn it into various games like these. Like, it was all in one. I don't THINK we still have it? Do you live with your parents? Are you cool with that? I live with my mom, and right now, it's the better idea for many reasons. I feel like shit about it, though. I'm nearly 25. Even if I was financially independent though, I would not be able to handle living all alone with my depression and all. When did/when do you want to move out? Hopefully when I have a stable job and long-term relationship. Have you ever been on a cruise? No. Are you better at catching or throwing? Probably throwing. I can't catch for shit. Do you ever play computer games? Just WoW nowadays. Did you used to have a lunchbox? Yeah, I went through a few. How often do you/did you bring your lunch to school? Whenever I didn't like what was on the menu. And mind you, I was and still am very picky. What was/is your favorite school lunch? I think the chicken sandwiches. When was the last time you wore a hat? What kind of hat was it? Oh yikes, who on Earth knows. It has to have been years. Maybe a Carolina Hurricanes one to a hockey game I went to with Dad. I don't really wear hats. Have you ever tried to ghost hunt? If so, did you catch anything? No. Do you prefer gold or silver? What about diamonds or pearls? Earrings or bracelets? Necklace or rings? Or are you not a jewelry person? Gold; diamonds; earrings; rings (I think). I don't care all that much about jewelry, though. Have you ever made jewelry? Not really, just kiddy crafts stuff. Do you have any unique hobbies? Meerkat RP. Have you ever broken a window? If so, what with? I don't believe so, no. Have you ever had surgery? If so, what on? Yeah. I had tubes put in my ears as a kid, and I had a cyst removed from... directly above my ass lmaoooo. Pilonidal cysts are awesome. Do you know any boys named Ashley or Lesley or Lynn? I don't believe so. Do you prefer coffee or hot chocolate? Hot chocolate, for sure. Do you like green tea? Tea is gross. Do you like to play Freecell? What about Hearts? Or Mahjong? I only know Mahjong, and I've never played that. I used to watch Mom play it on the computer as a kid, though. Idr the rules. Does your family own guns? No. Have you ever been given flowers? Were they from a relative or someone special? Both. Have you ever ridden on a motorcycle? No, and I doubt I will. I'm not like... really scared of them, as a matter of fact they seem really fun, they're just too risky for my liking. Have you ever seen a dead body? At an open-casket wake, yes. What does your umbrella look like? It's just an ordinary black one. Is anyone you know pregnant? HOLY FUCK, I think 90% of my Facebook friends are preggo. It seems like EVERYONE is expecting. Ha, one of my closest friends is legit pregnant with triplets after JUST having a son... She's in for a ride. Does your family do reunion gatherings? No, we're too spread out. What would you order to drink if you were in a bar right now? A strawberry sangria sounds pretty great. When was the last time you had a first kiss? I'm guessing you mean like, my first kiss with the last person I was with? A few summers ago when we were out on the porch making s'mores and dancing like some cheesy fucks lmao. How many homes have you ever lived in? If you don't count the apartment I wasn't an official resident of or staying with a friend for a month due to homelessness, we just moved into our fifth. Or sixth. It's too early when I'm taking this for math. Have you ever donated money to charity? Yeah. What’s your favourite type of exercise? Swimming. How many jobs have you had? Three or four... I'm not even sure because they were so incredibly short because fuck me and my anxiety, right? Who do you stalk the most through Facebook? Nobody. Have you ever deleted your Facebook, then brought it back? No. Write the first song that pops into your head: Well, I'm listening to "Freak On a Leash" right now. Has anything interesting come for you in the mail lately, besides bills? Nah. What is your main responsibility each day? Making sure my cat has food, water, and a clean litterbox. Do you feel like you fulfill those responsibilities? Yeah. I've slacked on the box before on bad mental health days where I can barely force myself to do anything, but I'm usually on top of it. Were you in the wrong during your last argument with someone? I don't recall what my last argument was. I think something w/ Mom. What bands did you used to love, that you don’t listen to much anymore? Hm. It's pretty rare I leave behind bands I've LOVED, so. Are you counting down to anything? tomorrow crihmus When was the last time you used spray paint? Oh, I have no idea. Maybe for an art project in HS? What color are the chairs at your kitchen table? Brown. Have you ever or do you plan on donating to any charities? Which ones? I've donated to some you would like pass by in the store if I had some spare coins or dollars on me, and when I cut my hair to as short as it is now, I donated it all to Children With Hair Loss. One of my most cherished memories is getting the certificate that it was used. I'm sure there's more, especially for school, but idr them. I 110% want to donate to charity streams when I have my own income source. Do you believe that life only gets harder or easier? I mean, this depends on your unique life. Do you know the middle name of the last person you kissed? Hm. I don't think Girt has a middle name, and I don't think Tyler ever told me because he was embarrassed by it. I know Sara's. Have you ever had sex with 2 different people in the same week? No. Who is the friendliest person you know? Probably my friend Girt. Last song you listened to? "Milk and Cookies" by Melanie Martinez is on rn. Something that annoys you about summer: Just ONE thing???? Just about everything does. The only thing I enjoy is all the flowers. Well hell, that's even mostly a spring thing. It's mostly just... plain green in the summer. At least here. Too hot for damn flowers to survive. Something that annoys you about winter: The fact that if it snows here, we get barely anything at all. e_e Are the doors of your fridge side by side or on top of one another? Side by side. When was the last time you burned a body part other than your hands/fingers? I actually just burned the roof of my mouth yesterday. If you’ve moved out of the house you were born in, do you know the people who live in that house now? Nope. What’s one food that you eat more than twice a week? Definitely some form of bread. Do you like zombie movies? No opinion, really. What's the grossest/worst thing you’ve ever seen in a public restroom? UGH. This one time I was in the bathroom with Colleen (it's a girl thing lmao) at a gas station, she did what she normally does and checks under the seat, aND IT WAS COVERED IN BLOOD. It was fucking disgusting. What’s the most wasteful thing you regularly do? Ugh... use plastic bags when disposing of Roman's "business" in the litterbox. I feel absolutely awful using one every other day. If I wait any longer than that, Mom gets mad. What’s the most difficult apology you’ve ever had to give? Probably to Jason via that letter. That honestly wasn't that difficult after having fully accepted I fucked up too, though. I don't generally find it hard to apologize when I know I was wrong. Have you ever volunteered in a hospital? If not, would you ever want to? Fuck no. They depress the hell out of me. What was your worst Halloween costume? Idk, I don't remember almost any of mine. When was the first time you can remember feeling mature? When I checked into the doctor by myself. Yes, I know how sad that is at nearly 25. Have you ever had a disappointing Christmas, or any disappointing holiday if you don’t celebrate Christmas? As a kid, there was just one where I was disappointed in what I got. SO fucking ungrateful looking back on that shit. I can't even imagine feeling anything like that now. I cherish Christmas deeply, especially now with nieces and a nephew who experience such joy at Christmastime, and I get to see my dad and his wife and stepson, too. At this age, it truly is about family to me. Do you have any character bandaids in your house right now, or just plain ones? I think we may have some princess ones and some "boy" kind for if the kids are ever over. AKA never because their dad is far more concerned about only including his family in their lives. I don't think Ryder's ever even visited our house, and he's like, four years old. My sister's husband's parents live directly down their road, but still. It hurts Mom and I a lot that we don't seem to matter when it comes to visiting *us*. Have you ever had to give a pet away? Yeah, plenty of times with our old cat nest. What's the junkiest junk food you’ve ever eaten? I dunno, probably something at Disney as a kid. Did you play pretend a lot as a child? Were there any recurring plots or themes? Yeah. I had my "good guys" - a family of alligators, deer (um they were married and had kids don't ask me, man), and some Pokemon figurines - and three big dinos that were the "bad guys." How do you feel about runny egg yolks? Egg yolk is fucking repulsive. The one and only way it's going down my throat is in scrambled eggs. Has a teacher ever tried to teach you something that was undeniably wrong? Not that I remember. If for some reason you had to give up one of your hobbies, which would you choose? I dunno, I have so few already... Maybe World of Warcraft? I almost quit it recently anyway because I was bored and yet it took up so much of my time, but it'd be hard now with a new expansion having just come out with soooo much to do. Man... I dunno. Have you ever hidden a relationship from your family? No. How much do you know about first aid? No more than the average joe, really. Which of your relatives do you know the least about? Sadly, probably my dad's oldest daughter. I know only two things about her with certainty. Have you ever meditated? If so, did it do anything for you? Yes, and all it does is make me fidgety and lets me think too much. When was the last time you got ice cream from a truck? Hm... maybe when I was at a beach when I was on vacation with a friend? I was like, a pre-teen then though, so it's been forever. Do you know any sex workers? If so, how do they feel about their job? Not that I'm aware of. And honestly, I have mixed feelings, but I think I lean more towards it being just fine so long as boundaries are set and there are very clear understandings with each other. And you ABSOLUTELY need to be safe about it. I'd far rather people get off with a consenting individual than in... y'know, other ways. It's not my business, anyway. What’s the biggest art project you’ve ever attempted? How did it go? In high school, I did a huge acrylic painting on burlap of meerkats grooming. I am to this day still so proud of it; I worked so hard on it. I love how the fur came out, especially. I do wish I could do over the background, though. What kind of wild animals do you see most frequently where you live? Excluding the obvious birds, there are tons of squirrels, and you see opossum and racoon roadkill a lot, tragically... Every now and then, you'll see deer in fields in the morning or dusk. Have you ever cooked anything other than s’mores over a fire? Yeah, hot dog.s Are there any items in your house that you use for something other than its intended purpose? I'm positive there's something. Probably everyone has an example. OH! Looking in just my room, Venus' terrarium has saran wrap covering the top to help keep humidity in. What do you hope the afterlife is like? Really, I go back and forth between hoping it's like... this state of nirvana and where you reunite with loved ones and experience infinite peace if deserved, or just the entire lack of existence anymore. I wonder sometimes if I'd want to be sentient forever. But, with me believing in a spirit realm, I don't think the latter is the case. What’s the worst behavior you’ve ever seen from a child? I think I once saw a kid smack their parent's arm or something? I don't really know. Have you ever planned an act of revenge? "No, but i daydream about it." <<<< Ha, yeah, I have. Do you and your parents share any of the same hobbies? Yeah. Mom surprised me when she told me she likes writing (even though I never see her do it), and Dad likes video games. Do you have any physical photo albums? Yes. Would you feel comfortable working at a sex shop? NOPE. Who was the worst friend you ever had? It's funny, Colleen did incredible things for me, but she also fits this description, too... Have you ever campaigned for a political candidate, or otherwise played an active role in an election? I mean, I voted, does that count? What’s the coolest hand-me-down you’ve ever gotten? What about the best one you’ve ever given? I have no idea. Do your parents and grandparents get along with each other? Dad got along perfectly fine with his parents, but my mom and her mother had a rocky history. Grammy treated her awfully sometimes. They'd been fine for many, many years, but Mom could never forget some things and always felt like she wasn't "good enough" in her eyes. I'm pretty sure Mom got along just fine with her dad. Do you have any framed photos of your pet(s)? Yes. Do you share photos of your pet(s) on social media? Um, duh. In 3 words, describe the last male you talked to. Who WAS the last guy I talked to... Do you own any of your favorite films on DVD? Which one(s)? No. Have you watched anything on Netflix lately? No. The last thing I did on Netflix was watch the first episode of The Witcher, and even though I liked it, I didn't continue. I just... don't enjoy watching TV, especially if it really requires you to pay attention. Have you ever heard someone snoring and thought it sounded cute? Besides animals, no. Are you particular about what you eat? In what way(s)? Yeah, I'm VERY picky, especially with textures. Is anyone close to you particular about what they eat? In what way(s)? Yes, my niece. She's autistic and has the symptom of being incredibly picky with things like textures, too. She is the one child I have ever known that doesn't really like eating. Is there someone in your life who can always make you smile? Always, no. Have you worn lipstick at any time recently? What color? No. I last wore black forever ago just to take pictures. Do you like wearing eyeshadow to match the color of your clothes? No; in the very rare instance I put on makeup, the eyeshadow is always black. What song reminds you of your childhood? Jesse McCartney songs, for sure. And Backstreet Boys. What’s your least favorite month? Maybe August. I'm sick and beyond tired of summer by that point. Nothing exciting going on. What do you do when you’re bored in class and not paying attention to the teacher? When I was in school, I honestly always paid attention because I wanted to pass. Have you ever baked a pie? No. Last person you shared food with? Mom. Do you know any mechanical stuff about cars? Definitely not. Were you smiling in the last picture taken of you? I don't think so, if that witchy photoshoot was the last time I had a pic taken of me. Do you answer the phones at your job? I did at two old jobs. Were you a hyper or mellow kid? I was kinda hyper. What are you drinking? Would you believe me if I answered "water"????? Did you get any compliments today? No. What last made you laugh? I think a moment in a WoW stream I was watching last night. Which of your friends is the easiest to talk to? Sara. What was your best summer ever? /shrug Do you have a favourite sibling? No. What color is the blanket/quilt on your bed? Navy and black. Favorite milkshake flavour? Just chocolate. Sometimes I'm in the mood for vanilla, though. Best year of your life? 2017. It's funny how that year started with a suicide attempt but wound up being the best year of my life. NEVER hestitate to reach out for help when you need it. How loud do you like your music in the car? Too loud lmao. Prefer to write or read? Write. Favourite apps? Pokemon GO, haha. What is a fruit you refuse to eat? Absolutely refuse? Maybe like, cantaloupe. Would you rather gain weight or lose weight? It'd to fuckin fantastic if I could lose 100 pounds. :^) I gained like thirty since moving... Would you rather gain height or lose height? Gain a tiny bit, I guess? But I'm fine with where I'm at. Are both your eyes the same color? Yes. Do you like glittery things? Yes, but not touching them and getting glitter everywhere. Ever watched a play in the theatre? Yes, at Disney World and also for school field trips. How many followers do you have on instagram? A depressing amount for someone desperately trying to be a photographer lmaooo. I mean I don't post on it a lot, so that doesn't help, but yeah. My secondary photography account (for roadkill/vulture culture stuff) has more than my main one. How about twitter? Don't use it. How much would I have to pay you to get you to do karaoke? I don't know, I'd be terrified of embarrassing myself. Last time you went ice skating? Never. Painting or drawing? Drawing, by far. Art or science? Now that's tough, but art. Dancing or singing? Dancing. History or geography? Geography is interesting. Favourite season? Autumn. Do you watch Supernatural? I did up to the end of Season 6. I loved it, I just was losing interest in TV, and also Jason and I broke up (we always watched it together) so I didn't want to watch something triggering memories. If you could change your eye color would you? Yes, to either a pure sapphire blue or emerald green. Are both your ears pierced? Yes. Are you lying down? Yes. Is there a tv in your room? No. Do you celebrate Thanksgiving? Yeah. Do you like fortune cookies? Yeah, they're oddly tasty. Do you have anxiety? You fuckin bet I do. Favorite clothing shop? RebelsMarket. How do you feel about peeing in a cup at the hospital? Is it embarrassing? No? It's too normal to be embarrassing. I mean I wrap toilet paper around it so you don't actually see, y'know, but I'm not embarrassed carrying that. Do you prefer fruit or vegetables? Fruit, by a long shot. What do you hate being called? "Bee." An old best friend who did nothing but lie about her entire life called me that. What color is the last car you were in? White. Ever studied abroad? No. Ever pulled out a tooth? Yeah, when I was a kid. Three celebrity crushes? Mark Fischbach, Link Neal, Hannah Hart. Ever been married? No. Are you proud of yourself? In most ways, no. Do you like grapes? Yep. How often do you cook for your family? Never. Is anyone in your family a lawyer? My cousin is, actually. Is anyone in your family an architect? Don't think so. Own any crystals? No. Favourite thing to write with? (pen, pencil, highlighter) Pencil. Top 5 favourite alcoholic drinks? I don't know, I haven't tried enough that I actually enjoy. Would you date someone bald? Yeah. Would you date someone who doesn’t want kids? I don't want kids either, so that's the only kind of person I'd date. That's something you can't really disagree on if you plan on lasting. Do you like candles? Sure. Favorite memory with a sibling? I dunno, probably something from when we were little kids playing together.

[constantlyirksome]

Season 2 of “The End of the F***ing World Review. (Major Spoilers.)

Between ‘’Killing Eve’’ and “The End of the F***ing World,” I have to believe that in the privacy of their own homes, everyone in Britain is either a psychopath or a pervert.

I loved The End of the F***ing Earth’s season 1 so much, but as it ended with the main character getting shot I really wasn’t certain there could be any more story to be told here. Luckily I was dead wrong, as EOTFW deals with the realistic blowbacks of going on a teen crime spree. Real people were affected, and the stars of the show were more changed than they realized, two years after their adventure. The second season finds James and Alyssa recovering physically and mentally from the Bonnie and Clyde style escapades in season one. They’ve realized, a year or two on, that it was mostly just teen dramatics and existentialism that had them acting so kooky, and are finding life regular life quite boring.

Alyssa’s life returned to its uncomfortable pace and style. Her mum’s creepy husband bounced, so she and her mum move in with her aunt, and Alyssa takes a job at a café where she learns a new respect for service workers. If you’ll remember her explosive outburst at a similar diner in season one (“Bye Marvin!!) you can see just how much she’s matured. She’s no longer driven by her impulses, which is great and seems healthy, but this is Alyssa we’re talking about. Underneath is a festering dirty bomb ready to blast her away from dreary jobs, and when she does feel overwhelmed and runs, she runs into James.

Like Alyssa, James has done a lot of emotional maturing. No longer believing himself a psychopath (that part of the storyline gets abandoned altogether which is strange), he has to recover after getting shot by the cops in the season one finale. Through physical therapy and time with his father, he’s able to become emotionally… well, not healthy but emotionally stable. Until tragedy strikes.

The whole season plays as two misfits coming back together and just trying to exist in the whirlwind of bad luck they’ve created for themselves. They quickly realizing after trying to skip town for the second time that as adults it’s not that an enticing of an idea. Ten minutes after ditching her wedding to a very nice young man Alyssa realizes she’s not the same rebellious kid, and her actions would actually hurt people this time.

James, oh who is alive by the way spoiler alert, knows this too but has no one left but his father's ashes. Oh, right his dad IS dead, double spoilers. His clinging to the urn for most of the season is something he’d never even have conceived of before. He’s started to develop not only healthy emotions but also real connections with both his dad and Alyssa. He even thinks enough of a sentimental spot to scatter his father. His growth as a person is drastic, but it still seems natural because he’s still extremely awkward and bad at life.

With the kids so emotionally evolved, you wonder where the drama would come from right? Enter Bonnie, a tragically misguided girl who fell in love with the pervert professor James and Alyssa killed in self-defense. In a truly sick flashback, we see how the professor manipulated the girl into having sex, then fooling her into thinking he loved her while he continued to be a creep. This obviously messed her up but connected her to James and Alyssa’s story in a real way. She hunts them down thinking he was innocent and killed her lover in cold blood, in a close-quarters game of cat and mouse. The two are totally unaware of her intentions, or the gun she whips out constantly. It’s pretty much a direct mirror of how James planned all the same things the season before.

It’s dramatic, and funny, and is the cause of a large chunk of the season’s drama and tension. Last season things just kept happening, one after another like a runaway steamroller, this season is more of a slow simmer, where you are constantly waiting for the bad thing that’s bound to happen.

Bonnie turns out to be the key to everyone’s closure, as the night of the professor’s killing has been subliminally haunting all three of them, sabotaging everything they do because they couldn’t cope. In dealing with the issue they realize, with some professional help, they might be able to move on.

The typical voiceovers of the show, done this season by not only James and Alyssa but also Bonnie, remain one of my favorite aspects of the series. They may be overdramatic, something you might read in the diary of a teenage My Chemical Romance fan, but there are some valid life lessons in EOTFW. About coping with death, dealing with all the shit life throws at you, societal pressure, and mental illness. If you actually listen there’s a lot to learn from this small group of whackos. With such an overwhelmingly optimistic end, hopefully, there’s still enough angst and philosophy inside them to teach us for a third season.

[jlalafics]

“Rent Control”-an Everlark AU

So I wrote an story based on this picture...

Enjoy!

Summary: Katniss Everdeen has found the perfect home in San Francisco—great neighborhood, an easy commute and, best of all, it’s rent controlled. There’s only one problem; the landlord will only rent to a married couple.

Enter Peeta Mellark.

 Rent Control

“No…” Katniss scrolled down the ad on Craigslist, checking out the pictures of the apartment. The place was…small. She could live with that. However, the dimly lit bathroom and the questionable safety of the building’s laundry room were enough for her to click away from the ad. “Okay, onto the next one—”

“Katniss! Your break is over!” Johanna, her boss, called out from the front. “We need you!”

Locking her phone, she slipped it into the pocket of her jeans and stepped out of the backroom. Johanna was waiting for her at the cash register, an impatient smile on her red-stained lips.

“Johanna, there’s no one here…” The clothing boutique was empty except for the two women whose feet she could see behind their fitting room doors.

“Yeah, but I need to go!” Johanna bounced to emphasize her desperation. Katniss chuckled before waving her away. “Check on them, won’t you?”

Nodding, Katniss went to the dressing room area. “How is it going, ladies? Do you need any different sizes? Anything you want to get rid of?”

“Oh, yes!” A light voice called out as a pretty, light-haired woman peeked her head out and smiled at Katniss. “I don’t think I’m really into this.” She handed Katniss the simple black shift dress. “I’m just not into such basic colors!”

“No problem,” Katniss replied. “Are you looking for anything in particular?”

“My husband has a work event,” the woman explained. “It’s kind of high-brow and techie as all of San Francisco seems to be. Black seemed like the obvious choice.”

“It’s formal, right?” The voice in the room to Katniss’ right responded. “I thought black would work on you.”

“I know, Alma,” the woman in front of her said. “It’s just not me though.”

“It doesn’t look great with your coloring, to be honest,” Katniss told her. “You would do well with a jewel tone.” She walked over to one of the racks close by and pulled out the dress that she had been admiring since it was delivered to the boutique. “Would you consider this?”

Katniss held out the fuchsia dress for the woman to examine. It was floor-length with flutter sleeves and a flowing skirt. The top has a modest V-neck with a gold band underneath the ribcage.

The woman clapped excitedly. “Yes! It’s perfect! Thank you…”

“Katniss,” she told the woman. “Give that a go and I’ll check back in a few minutes.”

The dress turned out to be perfect and Katniss was thrilled as she rung the woman up. The Michael Kors dress would add a little more to her commission—she needed it.

As soon as the two women left, Johanna walked over and gives Katniss a congratulatory clap on the back.

“Want to grab us some coffee?” her boss asked. “I know you want to see your friend.” Johanna waggled her perfectly penciled brows at Katniss.

“You’re too much.” Katniss grabbed the credit card from Johanna’s hand. “But I can’t afford coffee so I’ll take you up on a freebie!”

++++++

“My favorite shop girl!”

“God Peeta, you make my job sound as pathetic as it actually is,” Katniss growled. “And, that’s coming from a guy who just stands around and makes coffee.”

���But, I do it with a smile,” her friend replied with a charming grin. “Chin up. How’s the apartment hunt going?”

“It’s not. Either I’m looking at an apartment where I’m sure someone’s been murdered or it’s in a decent neighborhood but I’m practically sleeping sitting up. Fucking techies!”

“Hey, they pay for this overpriced coffee!” Peeta argued.

“But they’ve jacked up the rent…” she whined. “I’m going to have to move back home if I don’t find a place soon.” Her parents lived in her childhood home in a neighborhood south of nowhere.

“I’m right there with you,” her friend told her. “My landlord is upping the rent in three months.” Peeta handed her usuals, a vanilla latte for her and a triple espresso for Johanna. “Hopefully, this will get you through the end of your shift—on me.”

“Thank you, my friend,” Katniss said gratefully and without a thought, she leaned over the counter to press a kiss to the man’s cheek.

Before she ends up embarrassing herself even further, Katniss rushed out of the coffee shop.

Thank God, Johanna didn’t see that.

She would never hear the end of it.

++++++

It was too good to be true.

Katniss read over the ad once more: $2800—1 bedroom, 1 bathroom in gorgeous Noe Valley. Spacious living room with fireplace, in-building washer/dryer. Must agree to one-year lease for rent-controlled price as well as meet landlord’s tenant requirements.

Below the ad was the address for the building as well as the date for the open house which happened to be today of all days—which happened to be her day off! This was more than generous for rent; it was practically median rent on Treasure Island.

The doors of the MUNI lightrail opened and she stepped down quickly to get to the sidewalk. The building was a block from her stop and Katniss hurriedly rushed in the appropriate direction. Hopefully, no one had taken the unit yet, though she could imagine that this ad would bring many desperate renters to the building.

Her gaze reached the brick building and Katniss stopped abruptly to stare up. The building was beautiful; it had ivy covering one side…there were bay windows…a stained-glass front door…

“Shop girl!”

Whipping around, Katniss was surprised to see her favorite barista slowing down to meet her.

“Coffee boy…” She groaned and nodded at the building. “Don’t tell me that you’re looking at the same place!”

“It really is too good to be true,” Peeta replied good-naturedly. “It’s probably already taken.”

“The door is still open,” Katniss informed him. “…but I really need this place!”

“So do I!” His sweet cornflower-blue eyes suddenly went somber. “My roommate is moving out in two weeks. Kind of left me in a lurch.”

“Damn it.” Katniss bit her lip, her eyes again going to her hopefully soon-to-be place of residence. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt for both of us to look.”

Peeta nodded, a small smile brightening his handsome face. “Come on.” Putting an arm around her shoulders, they walked through the open door of the building. “It’s probably going to be a shithole, anyway.”

But it wasn’t.

As soon as they stepped into the foyer of the building with its marble floor and walked up to the mahogany staircase, Katniss knew that this was no ordinary building. The available apartment was on the second floor and together they ascended the stairs, reaching a white-washed hallway with a lone window at the end.

“Shit—we’re both going to like this place, aren’t we?” Peeta said, a grimace on his face.

“I guess it’s a fight to the death for it,” Katniss quipped as they walked into the open apartment.

Hardwood floors…bay windows overlooking Church Street…a gorgeous fireplace—she swept her hand over the mantle and found her fingers surprisingly dust-free. The landlord was a cleanly one; most of the places she had seen had been grimy. An open archway led into a nook where Katniss could imagine her humble IKEA table being set for Sunday breakfasts and the kitchen—neat with fairly-new appliances—had an island.

“Imagine how many loaves of bread I could bake in this oven,” Peeta murmured to himself.

“We are torturing ourselves,” she groaned.

“We’re not done yet.” Peeta took her hand and they went into the hallway adjacent to the entrance. The walls were painted white as well and they took a peek into the pristine bathroom with its clawfoot tub. “Seriously?”

“I can’t even look in the bedroom after this,” Katniss protested as her friend pulls her along.

The bedroom was immaculate; the afternoon light shone in through the wide windows and the opposite wall was a closet obviously made for someone of Carrie Bradshaw’s standards. Katniss could picture herself just lounging on her bed and catching up on her Netflix shows.

She looked to Peeta. “So, what do you think is the catch?”

He shrugged. “We might as well find out. The landlord is across the hallway.”

After a final wave to the dream apartment, they walked out just as the adjacent door opened and a disgruntled woman walked out.

The woman, impeccably dressed in her pantsuit, glared at them. “Good luck with them.”

“Ah, there’s the rub,” Katniss said to Peeta as he knocked on the door. “The landlord is a nightmare.”

“Now that’s a little harsh—” They turned to the dark-haired man before them, dressed casually in a flannel and worn jeans. “At least get to know me before hating my guts.” He widened the door for them. “Come in, come in…”

They stepped into the apartment; the sage-green walls and plush furniture immediately calmed Katniss’ senses. A record player crooned Creedence Clearwater Revival to the succulents that lined the windows.

“I’m Haymitch Abernathy,” the man said to them. “Owner of this humble abode. The wife is just grabbing more treats for potential couples.”

“Peeta Mellark.” Her friend held out his hand and Haymitch shook it firmly.

Katniss also reached out, shaking the man’s hand. “Katniss…you said couples?”

“The tenant requirement is that anyone living there must be married,” Haymitch stated. He settled down on the beige couch and reached for the glass on the apothecary coffee table. “How long have you two been hitched?”

Married?

And without thought or reason, Katniss found herself replying, “A year.”

She could practically feel Peeta’s stabbing stare.

“Hello, hello!” A familiar voice called out and they both turned to see a woman rushing over to them with a tray. The woman stopped and met her eyes. “Katniss?”

It was the Michael Kors dress…Katniss quickly pulled the memory of her holding the credit card of the woman in front of her.

“Effie…how did the dress go?” she asked congenially.

Effie beamed as she placed the tray of drinks on the coffee table, before sitting on the arm of the sofa next to Haymitch.

“It was a hit!” The woman looked between them. “I didn’t realize you were married.”

“Oh yeah…” Katniss nodded at the gob smacked man next to her. “This is my husband, Peeta…Mellark.”

She should really remember his last name.

“You two are adorable!” Effie gushed. “So young…but so were we—” She looked affectionately at her husband. “And here we are still tolerating each other.”

Haymitch smiled tenderly at his wife. “Well, you put up with me and that’s saying something.”

“Excuse me,” Peeta abruptly called out. “Out of curiosity, why just married couples?”

“We found that single renters tend to break their lease agreement within six months because they can’t afford the rent,” Effie explained. “And roommates often leave after awhile while non-married couples sometimes end up splitting up—it just becomes a mess. At least with a married couple, it’s two people who are bound by law and we can count on them being in the apartment for some time.”

“Longevity and loyalty are important to us,” Haymitch added, seriousness in his steel-eyed stare. “The people in this building are like our family. So, we’re very protective about who we let in.”

“That is definitely important,” Katniss replied. She looked to a stone-faced Peeta before beginning her appeal for the dream apartment. “We would love to be considered. Obviously, you know that I work at Johanna’s and Peeta works in the coffee house next door. We’ve been at our jobs for more than a year. We can get paystubs as proof of income—”

“I have a feeling about you two,” Effie said. She looked to her husband who nodded in agreement. “Pending the deposit and if you two agree, we would love for you to make your home here.”

++++++

“Are you insane?” As soon as they stepped out of the building, Peeta turned to her. “Why would you say we’re married?”

“I don’t know!” Katniss exclaimed. “It just happened.” She peered at him. “You’re not married already, are you?”

“No!” He burst out. “But still—you didn’t need to lie.”

“Tell me where you’re going find a place and price like that,” Katniss pointed out. “Might as well move to Treasure Island.”

They walked away from their future home. “So, what are we supposed to do now?”

“We pretend,” she told him bluntly. “And after a year when we’ve saved a little bit more money, we move out or just say we’re splitting up.”

“And, you think this is going to work?”

“It does or we’re homeless,” Katniss replied.

They walked in silence towards the lightrail island. When they reach her stop, Peeta turned to her.

“Fine. We do this,” he agreed. “One year.”

Katniss let out the sigh of relief. “Deal.” She took his hand. “You now have yourself a wife.”

Peeta chuckled quietly. “Just one thing.”

“Yes?”

“What’s your last name?”

++++++

One week later…

 “I seriously cannot believe you’re doing this,” Johanna muttered as they walk up the stairs leading up to San Francisco City Hall. “I know that you’ve had a thing for Peeta—but pretending to be married to get an apartment? That’s just wrong.”

“It’s not like that. All of us aren’t like you,” Katniss replied as she held her bag open for security before walking through the metal detector. “We didn’t get a house from a divorce.”

“I earned that house!” Johanna followed suit through the metal detector. “Do you know how many blowies I gave him before he decided that it was my fault that he couldn’t get it up? I can stick the hard end of a banana in the back of my throat and feel nothing.” The security guard chuckled as he handed Johanna her purse back. “Tell me that’s not devotion.”

“That is a little more than I needed to know about my boss.” Katniss reached into her purse and pulled out the fragile hairpiece. It had been lying in her drawer since she moved to California. “Can you help me?”

“Give it.” Johanna takes the hairpiece, clipping it on each side of Katniss’ raven waves. She arranged the lace so that it subtly brushed her cheekbones. “This is gorgeous.”

“It was my grandmother’s,” she said quietly. “Her and Gramps married during the war. It’s the one thing she left me after she died…I hate to think that it’s being used for something not real.”

Johanna placed her hands on Katniss’ shoulders, her eyes affectionately concerned.

“So, for now, pretend that this is real. Most marriages turn out to be shams, anyway—and you get a smoking-hot husband out of it.”

Katniss snorted. “Thanks for the pep talk.”

A wolf-whistle cut across the air, echoing throughout the main floor, and she turned to find Peeta in a grey suit approaching her. A tall, dark-skinned man followed behind him dressed in a navy suit.

“Mrs. Mellark…” Peeta slowed in front of her, looking over her fitted lace dress before meeting her veil-eyed gaze. “You clean up nice.”

“That’s what happens when you work in the best clothing boutique in San Francisco,” Katniss replied, her hands reaching to adjust his red tie. “You clean up nice, too.”

“That’s so cute,” the man behind Peeta said with an amused smile. “Y’all are already taking care of each other.”

“This is Cinna, my soon-to-be ex-roommate,” Peeta informed Katniss. “He’s ditching me for New York, but I don’t blame him since his cushy executive job is paying for his flat.”

“Nice to meet you,” Katniss said and shook the man’s hand. “I guess it worked out in my favor that you were leaving.”

“No problem, sweetheart,” Cinna replied. “Peeta showed me the apartment. What a sweet deal for San Francisco! I wouldn’t mind pretending to be married to this guy for such a place.”

Johanna coughed and Katniss pulled her forward. “This is Johanna, my boss and pretend MOH.”

“Nice to meet you both,” Johanna said. “And, thanks for the coffees, Peeta.”

“No problem,” Peeta replied. He looked around at the crowded floor. “Should we get on with this?”

Katniss nodded. “Right.”

Together, they walked to the wide staircase that led to the mayoral offices. It was a popular spot for ceremonies and pictures. There were already several couples taking their post-ceremony photos.

Cinna reached into his pocket, taking out a small digital camera. “Let’s get you two together.”

Awkwardly, Peeta took her hand as Katniss pressed herself against him.

“Is this alright?” she asked Cinna.

“No. You look like you’re having an edema,” Johanna said bluntly as Cinna chuckled in agreement. “Come on, make me believe that you’ve seen each other naked!”

Several couples stopped to stare at them.

“Alright!” Katniss wove her arms around Peeta’s neck as he pulled her close, his strong arms encircling her waist. Through the lace of her dress, she could feel his heart pounding and she met his sweet blues. “You okay, Mr. Mellark?”

Peeta grinned and the breath suddenly left her body. He really was a good-looking man.

She could never get someone like him in real life.

He leaned forward, their lips a breath apart. “I’m perfect…Mrs. Mellark.”

“We got it!” Cinna called out.

Johanna looked over Cinna’s shoulder at the picture on the camera’s screen, nodding in approval.

“Not bad…not bad at all.”

Together, she and Peeta sighed in relief.

They could do this…this was after all for the perfect apartment.

“We’re not done yet,” Cinna told them. “We still have a year’s worth of your marriage to document.” He smirked, looking at the photos—some good, some awkward. “These are going to look good. You better name your first fake baby after me.”

++++++

Effie had been there to meet them at their front door a week later. Haymitch couldn’t take the time off to join them as Effie informed the couple that he was stuck in meetings for the startup he was managing.

“I have no idea about those sorts of things,” she said as she held out their key. “Why don’t you give it a try? If there’s an issue, we can just hop down the block to the hardware store on the corner.”

Peeta took the key, inserting it into the bolt and turning it easily. “Looks like we’re good to go.” He opened the door and turned to Katniss. “Before we go in—”

He quickly scooped her up and she wrapped her arms around his neck, mostly out of fear of faceplanting on their new floors.

“What are you doing?”

“This is our home now,” Peeta said, giving her a winning smile. Behind them, Effie cooed. “I have to carry you over the threshold.” He leaned closer to her ear. “We’re supposed to be in love, aren’t we? Just go with it.”

Katniss nods before placing a light kiss on his lips. He started at the motion and something inside her bellowed in triumph at the thought of making him come undone.

“Well then, carry me over, Mr. Mellark. We have a lot of unpacking to do.”

Together, Peeta entered their place before placing Katniss gently back on her feet.

He winked. “I’ll start bringing in the boxes.”

Nodding, she went to open some of the bags that they were able to store in the apartment before their official move. Effie and Haymitch were generous for allowing them to do this.

“Is that your wedding photo?”

Katniss turned to see Effie behind her, her gaze on the black-and-white photo that she had just placed on the mantle.

“Yes. It was a small wedding,” she explained. “My family is all the way in Connecticut and Peeta’s family is in D.C. so they weren’t able to make it. The whole idea of getting married was very spur-of-the-moment.”

“Really?” Effie was an obvious romantic, though Katniss found it an endearing. “Oh, to be young and so spontaneous. So, how did the proposal happen?”

“Well…uh…”

Shit. They never really came up with a story.

“Katniss was staying over at my place.” Peeta placed a box on the floor in front of them. “We were having breakfast and discussing what we should do that day. She suggested that we get to the mountain of laundry in my room—and I suggested that we get married.”

A snort escaped Katniss’ lips before she could stop it.

Effie’s bright eyes went wide and she looked to Katniss. “And, what did you say?”

“I kind of just said…sure,” she answered.

“It was more of a—” Peeta gave them a half-hearted shrug that looked believably like something she would do. “—followed by a less-than-enthusiastic ‘Sure.’” He put an arm around Katniss’ shoulders. “As if it were the most natural thing in the world for her to marry me.”

“You do love me.” Her head went to his shoulder. “Surly traits and all.”

In response, Peeta placed a kiss on her temple.  “I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

“You two are just too good to be real!” Effie exclaimed. “I’ll leave you to finish unpacking. Also, tomorrow we’ll be having a little get-together in the backyard so you can meet the neighbors. I think you’re going to fit in here perfectly.”

She smiled at them dreamily.

I’m just going to leave you to…christen your new place. Let me know if you need anything.”

With that, Effie closed the apartment door behind her.

“Did she give us permission to bone all over the apartment?”

Peeta smirked. “I’m game if you are.”

Katniss reached into an open box, throwing a cushion in his direction.

He chuckled, catching the cushion easily.

“I’ll take that as a no.” Going to her, Peeta pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Welcome home, Mrs. Mellark.”

 End of Part One…

 This, I hope, will only be a three-parter.

This was inspired by a meme about dating in the Bay Area. Also, I’ve been watching Tales of the City on Netflix.

The current average rate for an one-bedroom apartment rental in San Francisco is $3,609, while rent in the neighborhood of Noe Valley runs at about $3,206. The lowest rental rate is in Treasure Island, which is the halfway point across the Bay Bridge, and is $2,616.

Just some food for thought on how ridiculous it is to live in the Bay Area…but damn do I love living here.

Next: Meeting the neighbors

Till then, JLaLa

[ramseyandrys]

The New Rookie: Ethan x MC

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Ethan x MC 

Summary: Tilly has a surprise in store for Ethan’s 40th birthday. 

Author’s Note: Hi! As you may or may not know, I love fluff especially when it’s about proposals, weddings, babies, etc.. This fluffy fic features my MC Matilda “Tilly” Carter. I put a lot of heart into this little fic, and I hope y’all enjoy it! 

It was the morning of Ethan’s 40th birthday. He had woken up, expecting a morning of pleasure with his wife, but, instead, he was greeted with a goodbye and a quick kiss on the cheek. It was unlike Tilly to not make a big deal about his (or anyone’s) birthday. She thought birthdays were like everyone’s individual Christmas. Ethan, on the other hand, didn’t see the point in celebrating being one year closer to death. Of course, when it came time for Tilly’s birthday, he went all out.

Ethan was sitting on the couch with Jenner, waiting on Tilly to get back from whatever errands she was running. Ethan and Jenner were watching their favorite movie: One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. Tilly’s cat Cat jumped into Ethan’s lap. She purred as Ethan pet her behind his ears. Ethan and Cat had an off-and-on relationship, particularly when Cat was meowing and scratching under their door while he and Tilly had sex, but, for the most part, Ethan loved the orange furball. Ethan heard the doorknob turn. Obviously, Jenner heard it too as his ears perked up. He barked, jumped off the couch, and ran into the foyer. Cat darted underneath the couch. Ethan stood up, running his hands over his white button-down, and followed Jenner into the foyer. Jenner was jumping up on Tilly as she pet him. “I missed you too, buddy,” Tilly said in her baby voice.

“Did you miss me?” Ethan asked.

“Not as much as Jenner,” Tilly joked.

“You spoil him,” Ethan said.

“Oh, please. You’ve knit him sweaters before,” Tilly said.

“It’s relaxing!” Ethan said. Tilly just smiled. The first time she walked in on Edenbrook’s Director of diagnostics knitting a sweater for his dog was an interesting experience to say the least. “So, what do you have in store for today?”

“How do you know I have something in store?” Tilly asked. Ethan looked at her pointedly. “Okay, fine. I do.”

“I figured,” Ethan said.

“Come on. Follow me,” Tilly said, taking his hand. “You can come too, Jenner.” Tilly led her favorite boys through their apartment and into their bedroom. Ethan followed his wife into their walk-in closet. Tilly reached into the pocket of her dress and gave Ethan a small piece of paper.

“What’s this?” Ethan asked.

“Read it,” Tilly said, a soft smile on her face. Ethan looked down at the paper and read it aloud.

“Remember Miami? This may be a whammy. What rhymes with to trace. Hint: it’s right in your face,” Ethan said. His eyes lit up as he looked at Tilly. “Is there a scavenger hunt?”

“It is,” Tilly said. Ethan loved diagnostics. His job was sort of like solving riddles, life-altering riddles. Scavenger hunts weren’t much difference sans the fact no one dies if you solve a clue wrong.

“Right in my face,” Ethan mumbled to himself, looking around the room. “Rhymes with to trace. Toothpaste?” Tilly looked at her husband in disbelief.

“Since when do we have toothpaste in our closet?” she asked, a look of amusement on her face.

“You never know with you,” Ethan teased.

“That’s fair,” Tilly admitted with a shrug.

“Alright. To trace,” Ethan said. He looked down below the shelf where his shoes were and saw his red suitcase. It was the same suitcase he took to Miami. It was falling apart at the seams, but it worked. “Here we go.” Ethan bent down and unzipped the suitcase. Inside was another clue. He picked it up. “Our first date was here. That much is clear. Look under the bench. This one is a cinch.” Ethan smiled as he remembered their first date at Hugo, a French restaurant downtown. He stood up. “We need to go to Hugo.”

“Can we get lunch while we’re there?” Tilly asked.

“No time, rookie!” Ethan said, practically running out of the room. Tilly smiled at how giddy Ethan was. It was rare to see the doctor so exuberant, and she treasured every moment he was.

Tilly and Ethan arrived at Hugo. The restaurant had a long line out the door. An elderly couple was sitting on the bench outside the restaurant. Tilly and Ethan walked over to them. “Ma’am, sir, I need to look under your seat,” Ethan said. The couple looked at him the tall, dark, and handsome man, visibly confused.

“I’m sorry, y’all, my husband and I are doing a scavenger hunt, and there is, I mean, there may be a clue under this bench,” Tilly said in her most polite, slightly southern accent. Ethan smiled at her. He never got tired of hearing her southern twang come out.

“Oh, of course, dearie,” the woman said as she stood up. She looked down at her husband who was still sitting on the bench, reading a book. “Harold, get up.” The man grumbled and stood up.

“Thank you so much,” Tilly said. Ethan nodded at the couple before dropping to his knees in the fresh mulch.

“Ugh, I’m going to smell like cow shit,” Ethan said. Tilly laughed. Ethan looked under the bench and took a clue that was taped underneath the bench. He hit his head just as he was about to stand. “Fuck!”

“Are you okay?” Tilly gasped, bending down beside him. She put her hand on his back and gently rubbed it.

“Yeah,” Ethan said, rubbing his somewhat sore head.

“Good,” Tilly said. “Now, I can make fun of you.” Ethan rolled his eyes as Tilly laughed.

“You’re a sadist,” Ethan said.

“I don’t hear you complaining most nights,” Tilly said with a wink. A blush creeped on Ethan’s face. He cleared his throat and looked down at the next clue.

“Here, you dropped to one knee in front of dear old me,” Ethan read aloud. “Stuck to the door is another clue to explore. So, the art gallery?”

“I don’t know. This is your scavenger hunt,” Tilly teased. “But, yes, the art gallery.”

Tilly was driving to the art gallery with Ethan. He was scrolling through his iPhone, looking for a song to play. He settled on Vienna by Billy Joel. “So, I’m guessing there’s a present at the end of all this?” Ethan asked Tilly.

“No, why would you think that?” she asked. “It’s all about the journey.”

“You’re joking,” Ethan deadpanned.

“I am,” his wife said with a smile. “The journey is a large part of it though. You’re having fun, right?”

“I’m not miserable,” Ethan said.

“Let’s see,” Tilly said. “On my Ethan meter, not miserable reads at about an eight.” Ethan chuckled.

“What’s a ten?” he asked curiously.

“I don’t know. I’ve only seen it a few times, namely at our wedding,” Tilly said. “Oh, and whenever I do that thing you like with my tongue.”

“Ah,” Ethan said. “Definitely a ten.”

Tilly parked the car in the empty parking lot of the art gallery. It was closed until noon. Tilly and Ethan got out of their car and walked to the front door of the gallery. “The clue says the next one’s stuck to the door,” Ethan said. He walked up to the door. There was a clue taped to the door handle. He pulled it off, making sure to also get the tape. “I can’t believe you dealt with Boston traffic to tape a piece of paper to a door.”

“Just read the clue,” Tilly laughed. Ethan looked down at the clue.

“Here was where I became Dr. Ramsey. I did proclaim I do. Now, all you must do is look under a pew,” Ethan said. He grinned, instantly getting the clue. “The church.” He and Tilly has gotten married in a beautiful Catholic church. They had a traditional wedding just like Tilly had dreamed of when she was a little girl. “I think we can walk there from here, can’t we?”

“Yeah,” Tilly said. “It’s a nice day.”

“Let’s go then,” Ethan said. Tilly took his hand, and the couple started walking down the sidewalk towards the church. It was a beautiful October morning. It was a bit chilly, but the sun was starting to shine even brighter. “Is this going to be a new birthday tradition?”

“Hell no,” Tilly said. “Next year, you’re getting Chinese takeout and me in my footie pajamas.” Ethan chuckled.

“Fine by me,” he said. “Hopefully, next year, we’ll also have another addition.” He squeezed Tilly’s hand, and she smiled at him. Ethan and Tilly were trying to conceive. Ethan never imagined himself as a father before he married Tilly, but now it was all he could think about.

Tilly and Ethan walked into the quiet, serene church. There were a few people praying towards the front of the sanctuary. “We’re looking for a pew,” Ethan said quietly to Tilly. “I see about two hundred of them, rookie.”

“Fine. I’ll make it easier on you,” Tilly said. “It’s one of the pews in the back.” Ethan sighed, relieved he wouldn’t have to disturb the churchgoers.

“Okay,” he said. He walked over to the pews, and Tilly followed him. Ethan bent down and looked under a row of pews. “Nothing here but gum.”

“People are so disrespectful,” Tilly said, shaking her head. “Can you pick it up?” Ethan looked at his wife, shocked. “So, that’s a no.”

“That’s a no,” Ethan said. He moved on to the next pew and then the next one when that one came up empty. Ethan looked under his sixth pew and saw a piece of paper taped underneath the wooden seat. He took it off. “Gotcha.” Tilly smiled.

“Come on. Let’s read it outside,” she said. Ethan followed his wife outside of the church. They stood on the stairs as Ethan read the clue.

“This is your last clue,” Ethan read, “but don’t you stew. In our trunk, you will find more than junk. Lookie, so you can meet the new rookie.” Ethan looked at Tilly, confusion all over his face. “Our trunk? The new rookie?” His eyes then lit up. “Wait, are we getting another dog? Is there a dog in our trunk, rookie?!”

“Is there… a dog… in our trunk?” Tilly repeated slowly. “No, Ethan, I did not leave a dog in our trunk.”

“Then what… wait,” Ethan said, looking at Tilly. “Are you…?” He put his hand on her stomach.

“Go check the trunk and see,” Tilly said, a large smile on her face.

Ethan practically ran back to the car. All he could think about was whether or not Tilly was pregnant. She hadn’t shown any symptoms, but that didn’t mean anything. When they got to the car, Ethan was more excited than Tilly had ever seen him. “Rookie, pop the trunk!” Ethan said.

“Okay, okay,” Tilly laughed. She took her keys out of her purse and popped the trunk. Ethan eagerly looked in it and saw a pink gift bag. Ethan took the tissue paper out and threw it in the trunk. Ethan took out a white onesie with a black stethoscope on it. Tears started to well up in Ethan’s light blue eyes. “There’s a card too.” Ethan reached into the bag and pulled out a little card.

“Dear Daddy,” he read shakily. “See you soon. Love, your new rookie.” Ethan let out a sob.

“You okay?” Tilly asked, laughing as she wiped away her own tears.

“No, rookie,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m a ten.”

Please like, reblog, and/or comment! Also, let me know if you want to be tagged in my other works.

Tag List: @lilyofchoices @x-kyne-x @universallypizzataco

More of My Work

[brideofedoras]

Soulbound: Almost Human

Disclaimer: I do not own Almost Human or the characters, only my OCs...  

Word Count: 2900+

Rating: 18 +

Warnings: Death and injuries, anxiety, asthma.  More warnings to be added in the future.

Chapter One

“Samuel Jacob Williams is… was… my hero,” she schooled her grimace as she stared down at the paper in her trembling hands.  For a moment the blue ink blurred out of focus, but three rapid blinks of her baby blue eyes cleared her vision.  “He was a wonderful husband and father, the best dad a girl could ever hope for, and he was a great detective.”  A slight wheeze rattled up her throat.  “He always knew he would die in the line of duty, more than once he would tell me he wouldn’t go down without a fight but he would be damned proud to give his life if it meant The City would be safe for another day.

“He spoke often of his old partner and the rookies he’d break in, the fresh new detectives he trained.  They were more than coworkers, fellow cops and detectives, they were his other family.  His brothers and sisters in blue.  I grew up hearing many funny stories about the job, and as I got older he opened up about the harder cases.  Losing Eddie Kennex had been one of the hardest moments for him, Eddie lost his life shortly after Mom lost her battle with cancer.  I remember waking up in the middle of the night to hear him drunk and arguing with Sandy and two other detectives as they dragged him into the house and to his bedroom.  It took him a week before he could open up about Eddie, and another week before he could face his coworkers and Eddie’s son.”  Her eyes blurred again.  She blinked them several times to clear them, gripping the podium with her free hand to ground herself as she realized it was her anxiety rearing its ugly head.  “He made me promise not to follow in his footsteps as a cop, and I reminded him that I preferred to tinker with the guts of an android or a computer.  I’ll help keep the city safe by keeping the MXes in tiptop condition.”

Her ears perked up when she heard someone seated behind Sandy mutter something that sounded like “Kennex”.   She looked up just in time to catch the look that crossed her godmother’s face.

Sandy shook her head, indicating for her to continue.  

“Daddy was proud of every one of you,” she went on, only to stop when she noticed several of the cops were whispering to one another.  She caught “Kennex” and “setup” and “he never should’ve been leading that raid”.

Anger flooded through her, white hot.  The hand holding the paper her notes were written on clenched.  “We are here to remember a detective, not trash talk a fellow cop,” she snapped.  “Daddy spoke highly of John Kennex!  He spoke more about John and Martin Pelham, Eddie and Sandy than he ever spoke about anyone else!  He would be ashamed that you guys are on a witch hunt at a memorial service for a fallen detective!”  She wadded up her paper and threw it aside.  “This is the hardest thing I have to do today, saying goodbye to my father, the only blood family I have left!  And you’re talking crap on a man who is in a coma in the hospital, hanging on by a thread when his best friend and his mentor died!”  She looked out among the crowd of fifty men and women gathered in the chapel, taking in the shocked looks on their faces.  “Here I am, twenty-five years old and honoring the life and death of the most important person in my life and you all are acting like a bunch of immature assholes ganging up to beat the hell out of someone!”  She took a step back from the podium, pride filling her chest for standing up and speaking out in defense of someone who wasn’t there to defend himself.  “I hope you’re proud of yourselves for ruining what should have been a remembrance!”

Her chin wobbled.  Her eyes burned.  Her chest tightened.

Her vision blacked out.

Emily Williams zipped her backpack and set it on the table next to the teddy bear and the vase with a small bouquet of sunflowers and daisies.  

Her phone vibrated on the bed behind her.  Her eyes slid shut for a moment as she drew in a slow, deep breath before she picked up the device.  Seeing her godmother’s name she tapped answer.  “Hey, Sandy.”

“Hi, Sweetie,” Captain Sandra Maldonado’s voice sounded a tad frazzled.  “I can’t leave just yet to pick you up.  We had a lead come in a few moments ago.”

“On the ambush?”  She reached up with her free hand to rake her shoulder-length chocolate brown locks from her face.

“Not the ambush, but on a related case,” Sandy told her.  “It’ll be maybe half an hour before I can leave the precinct.  I know you’re ready to get the hell out of the hospital--”

“It’s fine, Sandy,” Emily couldn’t help the smile that teased her lips.  “I’m in no hurry to go… to go home.  I am ready to get out of this room.  I’ve already told one of the CNAs to just rename 418-B the Emily Rose Williams Room.”

Sandra laughed at that.  “They do keep admitting you to that particular room, don’t they?”

She shook her head.  “Yeah, they do.”

“Well…  Since you’ll be there for at least another hour, would you feel up to going upstairs to visit with John?  I’m not going to be able to visit with him tonight.  I’ve got a feeling I’m going to be here late working this lead.”

 “Sandy, I could always call a cab or one of my neighbors to come get me,” Emily offered, moving toward the window to look out at the street below.  “If this case is related to the raid I don’t want to pull you away from it.”

“I’m coming to get you, Emmie, I need to give my brain a break for a little while and check on John,” Sandy’s tone brooked no argument.  “I’ll be there  when I get there, we’ll grab lunch, and if you decide you want to stay somewhere else tonight you are more than welcome to go to my place.”

She couldn’t help but smile again.  There was no arguing with the redhead.  “All right.  I’ll go sit with Detective Kennex and wait for you.”

“Any place in particular for lunch?”

“I’m not really hungry, but considering breakfast was turkey sausage and rubbery eggs, I’d settle for noodles,” she shrugged.

Sandra snorted.  “You and Kennex would get along famously, Kiddo.  He would live off noodles every day if he could get away with it.”

“With all that salt?”  Emily shuddered.  She loved Chinese noodle dishes, but every once in a while was enough for her.  They tasted too salty for her.  

“Yeah,” her godmother murmured.  “Will you need to stop anywhere else before I take you home?”

“I’ll call the pharmacy to deliver my prescriptions,” she answered.  

“Okay.  I’ll be there when I can.  Oh, and Emily?”

“Yeah, Sandy?”

“Talk to Kennex?  They say that a person in a coma can hear when someone speaks to them.  John could use another friendly voice.”

Emily nodded.  “What would I say?  I’ve never met him, Sandy.”

“Talk about your dad, or about yourself.  Tell him you’re applying for an internship with Rudy.  Those two butt heads a lot.”

“Sandy, you know I hate talking about myself!”

“John’s in a coma,” she reminded the younger woman.  “He needs to hear a friendly voice.  And even if he were awake, he wouldn’t tease or pick on you.  He’d probably flirt with you.”

“I doubt that, Sandy,” Emily turned away from the window.  

“Oh, he would, and he’s so terrible at it,” Sandra’s humor faded.  “John’s going to need all the support he can get.”

“I’ll do what I can, Sandy,” Emily agreed softly.  

“Okay,” her godmother murmured.  “I’ll see you when I get there.  Hopefully I can sneak out of here in thirty.”

“You’re the captain, you can do whatever you want,” she grinned, knowing full well what Sandra was going to say.

“I am, but I prefer to lead by example,” she laughed.  

They ended the call with a quiet see you later.

Emily slipped her phone into the back pocket of her distressed skinny jeans before she walked over to the chair near the bed to wait on the charge nurse to bring the discharge paperwork and doctor’s orders.

Fifteen minutes later she found herself standing in front of the private room Detective Kennex was in.  

“It’s good to see someone other than Captain Maldonado visiting the detective,” the CNA escorting her murmured.  

Emily looked at the blonde, eyes wide.  “No one else has been here?”

Sarah, she belatedly recalled the woman’s name, shook her head.  “Not a soul.  Does he not have any family or friends?”

“His dad died ten years ago,” her heart ached for the man.  “A few months after my mom passed away…  His mom…  I think my dad told me Detective Kennex’ mom passed away when he was in high school.  As for friends…  I honestly don’t know, I’ve never met him,” she confessed.  “He worked with Daddy, he’s close with Sandy.  He lost his entire team in that raid, and everyone else is working long hours trying to find the people responsible.”  She dragged her eyes from the frosted panel of the door to the CNA beside her.  “Sandy said he has a girlfriend.  She’s not been in?”

“He’s been here for thirteen days,” Sarah’s mouth twisted into a frown.  “The captain has been the only visitor.  And now you.”  She pressed a button on the panel beside the door.  “Come on, let me introduce you to our resident strong and silent detective.”

Emily followed the blonde into the room, her baby blue eyes sweeping the sterile space.  No flowers, no cards, no stuffed animals.  Just a framed photograph on the small dresser by the bed and a dragon figurine.  She set her bouquet and bear on the counter by the sink before slowly approaching the bed.

“Detective Kennex, you have a new visitor,” Sarah spoke in a cheerful voice as she gently adjusted the detective’s position and checked the leads and IVs.  She stepped back and motioned for Emily to come over. 

Emily shrugged her backpack from her shoulder and set it on the chair as she joined the CNA.  She looked at the blonde.  “I have no idea what to say to him,” she whispered.

Sarah smiled as she squeezed Emily’s shoulder.  “Basketball or hockey scores, the weather, maybe something you’ve tried recently that you absolutely love.  We talk to him every time we’re in here, hoping he’ll wake up and tell us to shut up.  A couple of us are keeping him up to date on our favorite soaps, even if he’s not a fan.”

She managed a smile at that.  “I don’t watch soaps or sports, I’m a grad student.”

“Then talk about your studies,” Sarah headed for the door.  “Thank you, Miss Wililams, for coming up here.”

She nodded before she slowly turned back to face the detective.  She reached out and took John’s left hand in her two cold hands.  A shiver of heat coursed through her from the feel of his limp, callused hand in hers.  She smiled shyly as she studied the healing bruises and cuts on his face, the scar on his chin.  “Um, hi, Detective Kennex, I’m Emily.  I hope you don’t mind me, someone you don’t know…  I…  I’m not exactly a stranger since you worked with my dad…  I hope it’s okay for me to come visit you while you’re in the hospital.  I’m waiting for my ride to pick me up and she wanted me to wait here for her.  She’s been visiting with you a lot, and I…  Nobody should be alone in the hospital.  If it weren’t for her, I....  I, uh,” she laughed nervously when she felt his hand squeeze hers.  His heart rate kicked up briefly on the monitor attached to the bed.  “I’m rambling, I’m sorry.  I’m, yeah…  You probably can’t even hear me since you’re in a coma, but I want you to know that I hope you have a quick recovery.”  She reached up with her right hand to comb her fingers through his dark hair.  She smiled when his brow furrowed slightly.  Was he ticklish?  Was he responding to her touch?  Or was it just a random tic totally unrelated to external stimuli?  

She quickly shrugged that thought off before reaching over to move her backpack off the chair.  She pulled it toward her and sat down.

“I just finished up my own hospital stay,” she said after wracking her brain for something else to say.  She frowned when her lungs grew tight and shifted to fish her inhaler out of her jeans pocket just in case her growing anxiety brought on an asthma attack.  “I have asthma,” she admitted with a twist of her lips.  “I’ve got it under control for the most part but it’s mostly triggered by anxiety attacks.  Three days ago was my dad’s memorial service.  Quite a few of the officers and detectives attending were being disrespectful of Daddy, being disrespectful to me, they were talking about you, blaming you for the… for the lives lost… and I lost my temper.  I stopped in the middle of the speech I’d prepared and ripped them a new one.  I cussed in a church,” she could laugh about it now.  Three days ago it had put her in the hospital.  “I was so caught up in my emotions I didn’t realize my anxiety had gotten the better of me.  One minute I was feeling proud for shutting them up, the next I’m waking up in the emergency room with an oxygen mask on my face and all kinds of monitors attached to me.”  She stopped herself from continuing, remembering that initial panic and ripping the mask and the leads from her chest before the nurse returning to the trauma room stopped her.  She didn’t need to unload on the detective.  “Anyway they decided I could go home today.  I’ve been meaning to come up here and visit with you anyway.  I want you to know I don’t believe a word they were saying about you.  I don’t blame you.  Daddy thought the world of you, he was always talking about you to me.  Said he wanted us to meet, but never did anything about it,” she smiled, shaking her head.  “I asked him one time if he was ever going to take me to McQuaid’s to meet you some evening and he told me, ‘You’ll meet him when you’re supposed to meet him, Princess.’  I don’t know what he meant by that, he never answered when I would ask why.”  She idly played with the callused fingers of the hand she still held.  She blushed when she realized what she was doing, and stammered out an apology.  “Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” she whispered, standing up to gently lay his hand on the blanket by his hip.  “I’m holding your hand as if I have a right to, and I don’t, I’m so sorry.  I just…  I didn’t realize I…”  She stepped back from the bed as she scrubbed her hands over her face.  “I’m…  I’m just not used to… to… this.”  She started to pace the room.  “Sorry, my anxiety is getting the best of me, and you’d think I’d be excited about getting out of the hospital after being a patient here myself.  I am, but I’m not.  I’m…  I don’t want to go home to an empty house.  I’ll…  I’ll probably be ordering a pizza tonight, I don’t think I can handle cooking dinner for just myself.  Dammit, I’m sorry, Detective, you’re in a coma and I’m unloading on you.  I…”   She jumped when the door opened, looking over to see Sandra Maldonado standing there with her coat draped over her arm. 

“Any change?”  Sandy asked softly.

Emily shook her head.  “No, just reflexive movements,” she answered.  She turned her attention back to the detective, her left hand curling over his left once more, her right hand stroking through his hair.  “Can… can I come back…”  She laughed nervously at herself.  “Why am I even asking, you’re unconscious…  If it’s okay with you, I’d like to come back tomorrow to sit with you,” she finished in a whisper.  “Hospitals get awfully lonely.”

Her eyes were drawn to her hand when she felt a slight squeeze. 

“Did he just…?”  Sandra asked slowly.

“I think it’s just reflexes,” she shrugged, but she squeezed his fingers.  “I’ll be back tomorrow, sometime, Detective Kennex.  I need to get my assignments and get caught up on what I’ve missed in my classes.”  She smiled to herself as she pulled away.  “Maybe I’ll work on my assignments while I’m here, work on them out loud.  Some of the classes are very boring, I’m hoping that you’ll wind up coming to just to tell me to shut up and get out.”

Sandra laughed.  “That sounds like something John would do, but I doubt he’d ever say that to you, Emily,” she smiled.  “I’ll just hound him about the paperwork that was supposed to be turned in weeks ago on the Andretti Corp case.”

Emily giggled.  “Daddy hated the paperwork part of the cases.”

“We all do,” Sandra leaned down to grab Emily’s bag.  She smiled sadly when she saw the flowers and the bear by the sink. 

“Thought I’d brighten up his room,” Emily shrugged.

She nodded.  “He’d appreciate it.”  She slipped her arm around the younger woman when she walked over to her.  “And I think he’d appreciate the company.”

[emms-jules]

Catch Fire - Chapter 1

First chapter is up! Hope you guys like it! I did my research before using Mexican references, but if there’s still some mishap feel free to correct me! Happy reading! :)

Prologue: https://emms-jules.tumblr.com/post/618542288757571584/catch-fire

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24269344

If Emma was asked that question five years ago, she would have easily said numerous reasons.

"I want to be with Julian. I want to officially be his. I want to spend my travel year with him. I want to answer his calls. I want to reply to his messages. I want to say I’m sorry. I want to take care of the kids with him. I want us to damn our lives as long as we got to live it."

But this was a different time now. She may still want the same things, but the person she wants to be with might not want it anymore.

Chapter 1

2018

“La hermana! Go!”

Emma leaped from the building, her blonde hair trailing behind her, and sliced the Eidolon demon in two. The demon made inhumane sounds before it vanished, the creature back to its true dimension. Cristina rushed up to Emma, smiling. “Bien hecho! Bien hecho!”

Emma laughed, cleaning Cortana using one of the fallen cloth from the dancers in the parade. “Tina, everything I do is well done.” She tossed the cloth full of demon ichor away in disgust. “Not the way I planned my Cinco de Mayo night though.”

Cristina rolled her dark brown eyes. “Like you enjoyed the last four ones anyway. You just either go on the roof of the Institute or smuggle enchiladas to your room!”

Emma shrugged. “Your mother’s enchiladas are the best!” 

Cristina shook her head. The two started walking back to the Institute, which was the other way from the parade and the festivities. It didn’t matter though, since the Rosales family hosted their own celebration back at the Institute. For five years, Mexico had been Emma’s home, if there ever was one. 

Cristina’s phone rang. She pulled it from her pocket and looked at the screen, emitting a Spanish curse from her. “Mark just texted. We have ten minutes to get to the Institute before Mama hits our heads with a plato!”

Taking Emma’s hand, they took off in the night.

-----

Upon reaching the Institute, they were greeted by Mark Blackthorn. He and Cristina exchanged a few kisses, releasing a sound of disgust from Emma. Mark laughed while Cristina rolled her eyes.

“Everyone is by the gardens, but I suggest you dress to the occasion first.” Mark said. Cristina agreed and with a peck for Mark, left to change. 

Emma was about to follow when Mark grabbed her arm. She tried to shake her nervousness away. Being alone with Mark will only result in one thing. Talking about someone. “Hi, Mark.”

“Cristina told me about your decision. Are you sure you want to do that?” He asked, his voice laced with concern. 

Mark is a gorgeous blonde boy with two different shades of eyes that shows two parts of himself. One gold eye represents his Faerie heritage, specifically his time on the Wild Hunt, and one blue-green eye, the color of the sea, marks him as a member of a distinct family, the Blackthorns. He is also Julian’s older brother, though his time with the fey made him the same age as Julian now.

Emma faked a hurt expression. “Don’t you want me back in Los Angeles?” 

Mark turned more serious. “You know what I mean, Emma. Are you ready to face Julian?”

Hearing his name made Emma's heart hurt. This was what he wanted to avoid, and has been doing a good job at until today. She knows that Mark was only asking for her wellbeing, and most likely her brother’s as well, since Emma is certain that her former parabatai hates him now.

She sighed. “Dru has been begging that I come back now. She’s just turned 18, and wants Christina and I to introduce her to adulthood. Helen wants me back for her daughter’s birthday, since I’m the godmother, or so she says. Ty’s assigned by the Scholomance in Los Angeles, so he’s coming home. Tavvy also wants me to be the one to train him, says he looks up to me and everything. Also, don’t you wish Tina to be with you back in the Institute? Don’t tell me otherwise.”

It was Mark’s turn to sigh. “I do want that. I miss her there, which is why I try to visit her as much as I can here, but I also want you to be sure with your decision. Besides everyone giving you a reason to come back, do you have a reason that makes you want to?” He asked.

If Emma was asked that question five years ago, she would have easily said numerous reasons. I want to be with Julian. I want to officially be his. I want to spend my travel year with him. I want to answer his calls. I want to reply to his messages. I want to say I’m sorry. I want to take care of the kids with him. I want us to damn our lives as long as we got to live it. But this was a different time now. She may still want the same things, but the person she wants to be with might not want it anymore.

“I just want to be there for you, guys. You’ve given me a family when I had none, and even after I left the Institute, you still accepted me and what I’ve done. You always reached out and made me feel like I’m still part of that family. I think I can finally pay that back.” She replied instead, and though it was not her reasons before, she knows in her heart that all she said was true.

Mark regarded her for a moment before finally nodding. He offered her a smile and a hug. Emma feels that her statements were still not enough to please Mark, but the conversation is over for now. Hopefully forever.

“We’ll all be home soon, then.”

Emma truly wished that it would still feel like that once she’s there.

-----

Once Emma was able to take a quick shower and dress herself up in a tight orange floral top and an accompanying maxi skirt, she left her room and immediately went to the garden. When she arrived, food was already being served. Apart from the Rosales family, some other families went to the Institute to celebrate the event. 

She recognized three faces. Nasreen Chaudhury, from the Mumbai Institute, was conversing with Jocelyn Fairchild and Luke Garroway, Clary’s parents. Last time Emma heard from her somewhat older sister, the pair was traveling and was currently in India, where they may have been welcomed by Nasreen. 

Emma greeted them with a nod as she went to get herself a plate. Cristina and Mark approached her there and got themselves food as well. “Diego and Divya send their regards. They’re busy in New York right now, and cannot portal to come.” Cristina explained.

Diego Rosales was a graduate of the Scholomance and Tina’s ex-boyfriend. He fought alongside Emma and the others against the Cohorts five years ago. After that, Alec Lightwood, Jace’s parabatai and Magnus Bane’s husband, was appointed Consul. However, they lost Idris soon after, since the remaining Cohort members don’t want to acknowledge him in the position. Alec decided to leave them be and gave all Shadowhunters a choice to leave the world and stay in Idris, or go out and fulfill their mandate. The country of Shadowhunters is now closed from the world, no one can enter it, and no one can leave it.

For those who chose to stay outside of Idris, a new form of the Clave was birthed. Alec gave Diego the position of the Inquisitor, and the center of their ruling was transferred to the New York Institute. This was where Alec originally resided, and he wants to be there for his kids Max and Rafael. Once Diego accepted the position, he and his girlfriend, Divya, settled there as well.

“What did your mother say now that Perfect Diego missed Cinco de Mayo for the first time?” Emma jokingly asked, earning a laugh from Mark. 

Tina shook her head in turn. “Mama is disappointed, but she’ll live. We’re all grown up now and need to set out in the world. Besides, I’m also leaving her in a week.” She replied.

The trio took their filled plates and settled in a nearby coffee table and ate. The ambiance of the garden was still serene, despite the celebration. The presence of nature sent a calm wind throughout the garden. A mariachi band was playing music that sounded festive that doesn’t get your mind throbbing. Children were dancing near them, accompanied by some elders. There was a faint chatter in the air among the tables, where Emma could hear adults talking about different things. The smell of food wafted in the air, that even though she already has a plate full of it, sends an invitation for another round. 

Mark and Cristina were conversing with themselves between bites. Emma decided to continue eating and just observe the surroundings. Mexico was not hard to fall in love with. She remembers her first thoughts when she and Cristina portaled here. The Mexico Institute was a one story villa only, but the land was wide, spanning a few hectares. And despite the Institute having one floor, it is set on high ground, giving a fantastic view of the city below. This is one of the reasons why Emma was often found on the roof. Another is that it brings back wonderful childhood memories with someone. 

Reminiscing her first time in Mexico brings back another memory, though a painful one. She recounts the events that happened before she set foot on the Institute’s doors.

She remembers asking for Cristina’s help just after she woke up in the Basilias. She tells her of her dream, and that she needs to leave as soon as she can. She pleads Tina that she doesn’t tell anyone else. She pleads that Tina help her have a place at the Institute in Mexico, like they planned during her travel year. She pleads that she immediately leave once she got her things from the Institute, it didn’t matter if the other girl was coming or not, and she cannot ask her for this, knowing that she is finally happy with Mark. But Cristina listened and understood, and she accepted. “You won’t go through this alone, Emma Carstairs.” She said. “I am coming with you.” 

She remembers herself asking for Jem, and begging him to get her back to Los Angeles quickly. Despite Emma’s confusing requests, he brings Tessa to the room, the four of them portaling. She remembers rushing up to her room, Cristina to hers, and they quickly pack their things. She remembers passing by Julian’s room, and walking in at the last minute to grab a worn shirt of his, filled with paint splotches. She remembers crying as she puts it in her bag. She remembers going outside the Institute, seeing Tessa and Jem and a portal waiting for them.  She remembers finding the Blackthorns rushing to get to her. She remembers them calling her name in confusion, but a voice stood out.

“Emma? Where are you going?” Julian asks, confused and still limping from his injuries as he approached. Upon realizing the presence of a portal, he quickly runs to reach her, his eyes pleading. “Emma, please no.”

She remembers herself crying as the boy she loves look desperate. She remembers wanting to run to him, to embrace him, to soothe him, to be with him.

Instead, she finds herself running to the portal, Cristina at her tail, before it vanishes behind them.

Emma suddenly feels hot tears spilling down her cheeks. She quickly wipes them away and finds Mark and Cristina looking at her in concern. She offers them a weak smile and says, “I’m going back to my room.” before standing up and leaving the garden.

But she did not go back to her room. Instead, she goes to the roof of the Institute. Like the reason for her tears, going up the roof was an annoying habit. It did bring her a sense of contentment, seeing the view, but it brought more memories that she didn’t need to be reminded of. Maybe she loves the pain, however sadistic it makes her.

She settled herself at the edge of the roof, which overlooked the garden and the city. She pulled out her phone, scrolling through her messages. She received one from Dru earlier that day, sending her a trailer of an upcoming horror film and begging her to watch it with her once she’s back. She also sent a photo of herself and Tavvy, eating donuts. Ty messaged her three days ago, asking her to get him a rare Mexican bird “for research purposes”. Emma shook her head. Mark was also in her latest contacts, and before he came to Mexico, sent him a video of himself digging at the Institute’s new garden, made by himself. Tavvy was taking the video as Mark took a handful of dirt with worms sticking out, and the video was cut when he threw it on Tavvy’s face. That earned another laugh from her. 

She clicked Helen’s contact and scrolled through their shared pictures, before finding the one she was searching for. It was a photo of the Los Angeles Institute celebrating the latest New Year’s day, everyone’s faces stuffed with food. Helen transformed it into some sort of greeting card, and sent it to all her contacts. She sees Tavvy reaching for a slice of pizza with his greasy fingers. The 11-year-old was growing his hair longer now, saying it makes him look older in a way. For Emma, he was still the baby who called her “Memma”. Dru was wearing her usual gothic style, but unlike her 13-year-old self, she puts on mature pieces that highlights her assets. Emma was proud of her, remembering how Dru was insecure because of what their aunt told her once about her shape, but now she carries herself with confidence. She sees Ty, back for the holidays that time, his headphones on but still posing for the photo. He was drinking something in a cup, which Emma thinks is still fruit punch, despite Ty being 20 years old now. Mark was holding a bowl of fruits and caught jumping, fruits flying everywhere. A 23-year-old Helen and Aline were at the center of the photo, along with their baby girl, who Emma was yet to meet. The three were hugging each other, creating a cuter smaller family picture.

Finally, she looks at the boy at the far right of the picture, not looking at the camera, but shyly laughing at something while looking at his siblings. Julian. He was 22 years old now, like Emma. He looks more built and taller, and even though it’s been five years, Emma could still feel her heart thumping at the sight of him. What more when I see him? she thought.

She shook her head to rid her thoughts on Julian. This was not what the past five years was supposed to do to her. She closed her phone and settled it next to her. 

She could already see herself in a week, when she comes back to Los Angeles. The others will be happy to see her. They would tell her that they miss her, and recount events that she either missed or she already heard from them through calls or texts but want to repeat. She would settle back in her old room, which was untouched, but would be bombarded with the Blackthorns from time to time -all except one.

She could see Julian not eager of her presence. Avoiding her at all costs. Shutting himself in his painting room. She imagines his private room rid of all her portraits. His most hated color now was any shade of yellow. She could see him asking her what nerve she had to go back here, when Emma avoided any way he found to reach her. She could see him resenting her. Who wouldn’t resent their parabatai that left? Who wouldn’t resent someone who promised you a lifetime and left?

The people in the garden were shouting in excitement, breaking Emma’s trance. Suddenly, fireworks shot out to the sky and erupted in beautiful colors all throughout the city. Emma swallowed the lump in her throat. Ironic, that fireworks give off happiness, but all Emma could think of was that after it explodes, the sky would turn back to darkness.

[iamkatehardy]

At Last ( Kray Twins x Reader)

Author’s Notes: Due to the positive feedback regarding Childhood Sweetheart, I decided to work on a fanfiction with the Krays. I wanted my blog to have a little more diversity, instead of focusing only on Chaos.

I hope you enjoy this fanfic, leave your feedback, since it will keep me motivated to write, and your opinions will help me to improve my writing!

Warnings: Violence

Chapter 1

In the early-to-mid 1960s, Krays’ legacy in London was something no one could be indifferent to. Rumor had it that they were gangsters, but they kept a low profile most of the time, especially Reginald, who was extremely thoughtful and balanced, contrarily Ronald, who was much more impetuous, impatient and impulsive.

You were kind of fed up with the life you were having in London. You could have had a career in music, followed your dream and share your life with someone who cared for you, but you were stuck in a rigid arranged marriage you didn’t even want in the first place. As if this wasn’t enough, your husband had drinking problems lately, and anger issues, something no one would want to witness. In the first times he was kind, he took you out and made some effort to keep you happy, but that was only until you both moved to London, away from your family, friends and everyone you knew, where he could reveal his true self.

He forbade you to sing, to teach or to go out at all, unless he wanted to show you to the high society, as a trophy. That was not the worst part, he soon started beating you up violently, and it became more and more frequent. H had never touch your face though, he thought it was too beautiful to damage; the only reasons why he married you were your good family name and the fact you were the most beautiful, delicate woman he had ever seen, almost divine like, he liked to display you and brag about it.

Soon came the day he changed his mind. His life couldn’t be only parties and spending, but he only realized that as he was getting broke. When you suggested you could go back to work, he snapped at you, unleashing all of his anger and frustration, mixed with alcohol. He gave you a severe beating, and when you begged him to stop, he did it : for the first time he hit your face.

That was the day you decided you wouldn’t put up with it anymore, otherwise you’d end up dead. No more rape, no more beating, no more living hell. You just stood still, as if you had passed out, hoping that would make him stop beating you. He did, he left home, maybe for a drink, or hoping you’d wake up, so that he could finish his job, seeing and enjoying the panic in your eyes.

As soon as he left, you packed your things fast, and then dialed the number of a friend, telling him you were in danger and needed his help. He came to get you, taking you to a house you had bought with what was left of your parents’ money, on your friend’s name, so that it wouldn’t be suspicious on your husband’s eyes.

Your friend, Arthur, was a doctor, so he took care of your wounds and bruises. Tears were streaming down your face, but not because of the physical pain.

“(Y/N), you know he’ll stop at nothing, I’m sorry to tell you, but he’ll hunt you down, until Hell if it’s needed.”

“I… I know. I’ll just let the dust to settle for a while, maybe he gives up and I’ll be safe.”

“There’s one way you could be safe.”

“How?” – You asked, with a glimmer of hope in your eyes.

“Look, I work for these guys, the Krays, you must have heard about them. They are not the guys you want to mess with. I only do occasional services, but one thing I know, no one is crazy enough to go after someone under their protection, that’s a death wish.”

“And why would they protect me? I’m a nobody, Arthur!”

“Don’t mention I’ve sent you, but maybe you could look for a job in one of the cubs they use as window dressing. I don’t know, one of them actually has a heart. Inside the club you won’t have any trouble, and outside, well, they have eyes everywhere, they will know how you’re doing, and act in case it’s needed.”

“I..” – You sighed, uncertain if that was a good plan.

“It wouldn’t hurt to try, would it (Y/N)?”

“Well, no…” – You paced around the room, biting your nails nervously. – “I’ll do it. I just need to look human again, before I do.” – You stopped in front of the mirror, looking for the first time at wat your husband had made to you.

“You know my number, call me anytime… I’ll leave the club’s address here.” – He wrote it down in a piece of paper, which he left over the table. – “ Just take care (Y/N).  You have to be cautious. I’ll come back here every day, to check on you, and bring whatever you may need, ok?”

“Thank you, Arthur; I don’t know what I’d do without you right now.”

He enveloped you in his arms, and kissed the top of your head.

“Hey! That’s what friends are for! See you tomorrow.” – He walked out the door and you quickly locked it, terrorized anyone would come for you.

You leaned your back against the door and took a deep breath, trying to internalize your new reality. After a while you walked to the table, taking the paper in your hands.

“I just hope this works.”

A few days passed. You knew your husband was looking for you like crazy, but so far he hadn’t found you, so you were peaceful. It was time to follow Arthur’s advice and look for the Krays.

The sun had just set, nighttime was the only time you could do anything that involved leaving your house , that was when your husband didn’t expect you to be out. You walked to Krays’ club, which wasn’t open yet, so maybe it was the perfect time to talk to the Krays.

Taking a deep breath, you knocked. You got no answer, but the light inside was on, so you knew someone was inside. You knocked harder.

“We’re closed” – Said a deep voice, expressing annoyance.

“I know Sir, and I’m terribly sorry for bothering. I was wondering if perhaps I could have a word with Mr. Kray.” – Yu anxiously bit your lip, waiting for an answer.

A tall, broad man opened the door, smoking a cigar and thoroughly examining you.

“And what exactly would you want from Mr. Kray?” – He looked at you over his glasses, with his piercing blue eyes. If the goal was to intimidate you, he was doing just great. You cleared your throat.

“Well, you have one of the busiest clubs in London, so I wondered if Mr. Kray needed workers..”

“You wonder a lot, don’t you?” – He blew a cloud of smoke out of his lips. – “I’m Mr. Kray, and I say we have no jobs for women here, miss.”

Reggie came out of his office; curious about whom the hell was Ronnie talking to.

“Listen, Mr. Kray, I can do anything, if not handling your correspondence, I can cook , or maybe household cleaning, anything, really… I just really need a job.” – You plead.

“How about no?” – Ron didn’t quite enjoy women around, he thought they were trouble. Plus they only paid attention to Reggie, and they stole Reggie’s attention from him.

“Ron, mate? I’ll handle this…” – Reggie came forward, taking your hand and kissing it gently. – “I’m sorry about my brother, miss…?”

“(Y/N).” – You gave him a faint smile, this one had to be the one with a heart, as Arthur mentioned.

“Alright miss (Y/N), come in, let’s have a seat, it’s cold out there!” – He waved his arm, showing you the way. He could tell you weren’t a girl who he would offer a job doing household cleaning. You looked elegant, hair and makeup on point, a sophisticated dress… Noticing a light bruise across your cheek, and many others in your wrists, he wondered in what trouble were you in. A girl like you, this desperate for a job, probably was in serious trouble, so he would keep a close eye on you. – “ Please, have a seat , darling.” – He smiled and sat down.

“Thank you.” – You sat down, gracefully crossing your legs; he could tell you were well-mannered.

“So, what brings you here?” – He asked, curious.

“I’m just looking for a job, whatever it is.”

“Hmm, I heard that part, but why here?” – He studied you.

You untucked the hair behind your ear, so that it would fall over your face and cover your bruise, as you noticed Reggie was staring at it.

“Do you think there are many places in London that offer women a job? There aren’t… I want my independence back, I know I can thrive if I work hard enough…”

He lighted a cigarette, analyzing you.

“Your reputation precedes you, Mr. Kray, you rule this town, or most part of it, if you can’t help me, no one else can.” – You vented.

He felt you were being honest, so he just smiled.

“Look at you, miss (Y/N), I can’t just make you scrub floors, can I?”

“Well, if that’s what you have available, I can start now, I will gladly do it. I fear no form of work.” – You smiled back.

“Hmm…” – Reggie nodded.

“Reggie, this is a bad idea.” – Ron told him, just loud enough for you to hear him and notice you were unwanted.

“Ron, let me think, brother.” – He turned back to face you. – “Miss (Y/N), how much do you know about spirituous beverages?”

“A whole lot actually, Mr. Kray. And if there is anything I don’t know, and you think I should, I promise I’ll try to learn it a soon as possible.” – You put your hands on your knees, speaking assertively.

“I like that. I like your attitude. You had a really nice approach. I can see you are courteous and friendly, maybe you could help in the bar, in the busiest nights? I’m sure you are talented to deal with clients, and hopefully with drinks too!” – He slid his finger across his full lips, giving you a friendly smile.

“I…” – You stuttered, in disbelief, because it was too good to be true. “ Thank you so much Mr. Kray!”

“Please, call me Reginald, Mr. Kray sounds as if I was 60...” – He made a face.

“I can’t thank you enough Mr. K…” – You stopped yourself, closing your eyes and laughing. - “Reginald! Sorry! So, when do you want me to start?”

“Tonight is Friday. Fridays are usually busy, so you can start tonight, if you agree, to see how you do, and if you like it. Would you like that?”

“Absolutely, it would be perfect!” – You smiled with your lips, and with your bright eyes as well.

Reggie introduced you to your coworkers, who promptly taught you how things worked, and your first night went smoothly. The costumers weren’t used to see a girl working there at first, but they were easily conquered by how kind and considerate you were, always serving them with a smile, making suggestions they loved and working real hard to keep everyone pleased.

A few days passed, Reggie couldn’t be happier he hired you, you were hard-worker, and your motivation and constant smile were simply contagious. You were happy to work there too, and even Ron, who was usually grumpy, softened, allowing you to call him by his first name. They made sure you made it safely home every night.

Working at the club was exhausting, but you loved it, and even stayed longer than you needed, most of times. Plus it had music, which was something that made it even more pleasant to work there.

Saturday night, the club had been crowded, so it meant working until later than usual. After the last client left, you told the other bartender you’d stay and tidy everything. He had a family waiting for him, and you didn’t, so you didn’t mind staying late, even when it was his turn to do so. As you finished putting everything in place, Ron walked from his usual table to the bar.

“Goodnight Sir, what can I do for you in this fine evening?” – You giggled, joking.

“Scotch on the rocks, as usual.”

“Well, let me suggest you this triple distilled single malt scotch that just arrived! Oh, and neat, so that you can enjoy it properly, feel every flavor. “

He looked at you over his glasses, you knew he liked routines.

“Ronald, I am 200% sure you will love it, if you give it a chance!” – You poured his drink, putting it on the counter. – “Oh! Wait, I found these in a store near my house, and I figured you’d like them.” – You searched in your belongings, taking a box of cigars. – “I’ve been told these are the finest Cuban Cigars, tell me what you think.” – You delivered him the glass and the cigars, and he went to his usual table, enjoying them, even if he wouldn’t admit. You smiled, knowing he did.

“(Y/N)?”

“Yes, Ron?” – You turned your attention to him.

“Come here, I want you to entertain me.”

“I’m not sure I understand...” – You narrowed your eyes.

“What hidden talents do you have? Making drinks is one of them, but there must be a hidden one…” – He played with the whiskey in his glass.

“And what makes you think that?” – You walked to his table, smiling, then took a sip of his drink, which warmed you the inside.

“Women are full of mysteries and surprised.”

“Oh, are we?” – You laughed.

“Yes, usually bad ones. But I trust you’re not a bad surprise.”

“That was a hasty, wrong generalization Mr. Kray, and I’ll prove you wrong. May I?” – You pointed to the stage. Ron nodded, giving you a silent permission.

You stepped onto the stage, sitting by the piano and playing some random keys, it had been a long time since you played one. Ron shook his head at how disgraceful you seemed to be.

“Alright, let’s do this then.” – You started playing for real, better than he thought you could. His eyes were stuck on you now. You caught him looking, and knowing you had his attention you smiled, and started singing.

Ron loved music, and as soon as he heard your voice he was absolutely spellbound, he had no idea you had such talent.

You were amazing. Pure, powerful, capable of bringing to life  whatever feeling the song was meant to convey, this was how your voice was. You had the talent and the attitude. He asked you to entertain him and you were doing it.

Reggie came out of his office, when he listened to the unusual music. He stood near the bar, bewildered. Every vibrato of your voice gave him chills.

You weren’t aware of their reaction, because you were having a great time, enjoying every second, every note, and every word. You only realized when you finished.

“If you had told me you were a singer, I’d have offered you a more suitable job. Wow.” – Reggie told you, watching from across the room.

“I am not, not anymore…” – You smiled, briefly glancing at him.

“Well, you could be. You should be. You should really consider retaking that life, darling. I am sure you’d mesmerize everyone in the club, just as you did with me… Us.”

“Yeah, that was good.” – Coming from Ron, this kind of was a compliment, the biggest you’d get.

“I think you would be quite a headline act for the club’s birthday, we need something new, and you’d be a blast! And as a test, maybe you could do a performance, I don’t know, next Saturday? What do you say?”~

You got off the stage, going straight to Reggie and hugging him tight, not containing your happiness. You laughed happily, and even if there were no words, Reggie knew your answer. You’d be back, at last.

[iamwhelmed]

Win One, Have Two: Chapter 13

Okay, it has been 9 long months and I haven’t updated. For that, oh my god I am so, so sorry. I knew I was feeling uninspired but that’s really no excuse! It’s okay, it’s summer now, so I can focus a little more on writing. Hopefully you guys still have interest ^^’ Anyway,

Here it is on AO3

It'd taken them the better half of thirty minutes to collect what they'd need for what Miss Rose was referring to, for the moment, as a "field trip"- no parental release forms necessary because, as she'd made abundantly clear, "I am the only adult you need to be worried about". Except for Crawford, who spent the fifteen minutes it took everyone else to get ready standing outside smoking a cigar with an unbothered look on his face. Clara was the first of the three students done, and waited next to Crawford with her messenger bag full of supplies slung over her shoulders. She looked to him, and he lazily glanced at her from the side.

"You know smoking is horrible for your lungs, right?"

"If anything's gonna take me out 'for my livin' does, I'm gonna die a happy man knowin' it was my vice."

Clara's lips pursed into a straight line.

The front door creaked open; Hardy stepped out first, unzipping his backpack to slip the dagger through its army green folds. Isaac was right behind him, arching an eyebrow at the very functioning door that he, quite frankly, was surprised was still on its hinges after last night. He frowned and grabbed Hardy's wrist, twisting it around to look at his watch. Hardy remained unbothered, trapping his bag between his legs as he used his other hand to close the zipper the rest of the way, concealing the dagger safe and sound in a multitude of pockets. Isaac huffed through his nose- 5am. Correction, then; the attack happened *earlier this morning. Adrenaline and the primal need to not get his head torn clean off of his shoulders had kept his sleep-addled brain at bay, but now that it had time to process that the world had settled again, it was urging him to rest.

There was a hand at his shoulder. Isaac jumped, but he saw the streak of purple in raven hair and found the nerves of his brain settling. It was just Miss Rose. She caught his gaze and gave him a small smile, soft, though he could tell she was strung a little higher than usual. She brushed by him and turned only to lock the door behind her. "Is everyone ready to go?"

"Yeah," Isaac watched as Hardy slipped his bag onto his shoulders. "So, how exactly are we planning on finding our friendly neighborhood home invaders?"

Rose smiled, this time more like she usually did, bright and reassuring. "Same way I look for spectral artifacts! I let Magnus lead the way!"

Isaac raised an eyebrow, and god help him, he swore the top half of his face was going to get stuck that way someday. "Magnus?"

Crawford took another puff, rounding his lips so that the smoke took on a circular shape. Miss Rose waved it away and gave him a look- the kind wives give their husbands over shoes left at the front door- and he grimaced, but dropped the cigar and put it out with his heel anyway. "Well, don't keep 'em waitin', Rose." Clara moved closer to Isaac and Hardy, eager to get a look. Isaac glanced at her and Hardy, and the looks of curiosity so plainly painting their crinkled noses and furrowed brows. Must be new to them, too.

Rose rolled her shoulders in a semi-committal, but ultimately nonchalant shrug. "Yeah, yeah. I'm just not looking forward to the lecture I'm gonna get." She reached into her back pocket and procured what appeared to be a compass. Small, silver, sat perfectly in the palm of her hand, like it was sculpted especially for her. Her eyes fluttered shut, and Isaac could tell from the small rim of purple aflame under her eyelashes that she'd connected with her spirit.

"What is it this time, Mari?"

Rose opened her eyes, finding beady black staring into the abyss that was her soul- or, rather… maybe staring into the abyss that was her curious nature. It made her good at artifact hunting, maybe not the best spectral partner, though. "Okay, okay. I deserve that. But it's important this time!"

Magnus turned and flew a few feet away, back of his body (a long eel-like tail covered in fur) brushing vaguely against her nose. He looked a lot like a basset hound, one that a particularly squealing-prone Sherlock Holmes fan had dressed in a deerstalker and matching coat for a cute scrapbook. She remembered meeting him the first time, back when she was still greener to the spectral world.

Before she knew that spirits were typically averse to hugs and scritches, no matter how much they looked like a good boy.

Magnus huffed from his throat, gave her a look that only an elderly butler with far too much experience and Magnus himself could level her with. The expectant kind. The kind that dared her to make her case. "So you're admitting you were using me for fun before?"

She abided. "Well no, that stuff was important too, but this is…"

Magnus sighed, the sign he gave her, every single time, to signal he was acquiesce. "What do you need?"

Right, down to business, then. She sobered and stripped her hand of her black glove, holding it out for Magnus to sniff. "There should be a saliva sample on this glove. Can you track it for me?"

He hovered closer, inching his wet nose toward the glove. He sniffed once, then twice, and nodded. He registered the smell, compared it to the large database of scents and stenches he'd picked up on in his near-infinite lifetime. She watched him in silence, but took the moment to slip her glove back on. If she knew Magnus, which she did, then he'd give her a destination, maybe a word for warning. He took a few moments, then did something she hadn't seen him do before. He paused. "This could lead you into Consortium territory, you know…"

"What?" She would have hid the trepidation in her voice, but Magnus had known her too many years for her to play anything cool ever, not that she ever got it by him before. She had a feeling he was a little more a detective than he'd like to admit. Magnus glanced at her with droopy eyes, big ears flopping as he floated in place, like there was an undercurrent breeze that blew from below. "Why?"

"The scent you're handing me matches somebody long lost to the Consortium, I'm afraid. One Catriona Barrett." Rose glanced down at her hand, squeezed her fist around the glove that still had traces of saliva on it. "Disappeared after the Consortium eliminated her lover, which I'm sure you know was a spirit by the name of Emmerich."

"That doesn't make sense. The dagger is perfectly capable of killing humans, but it's just as capable of killing spirits. What would she want with it?"

"A conundrum not meant for me to solve, I'm afraid." Magnus hummed floated away from her, cracking only an eye open to glance at her. He must have seen her frown, because he sighed and momentarily moved closer to her, moved around her in a circle so that his tail could brush up against her cheek and make her nose wiggle. "We were lucky that the dagger was within Cousinhood territory, but you know I'll be leading you-"

"- All over god's creation. Yeah, I know." She smiled his way, gave him a scratch under his chin either to calm herself down or to annoy Magnus. She had no plans to ponder which it was. He glared at her, unamused as always, as he faded from her sight. "I'm afraid that's a risk we're going to have to take."

The compass hovered in mid-air, faintly radiating with the same purple that surrounded herself and Magnus. As the last of Magnus's spirit world faded from view, the compass itself pulsed, like a heartbeat. She held out her hand and waited for it to fall into her palm, cold detailed silver against the fabric of her glove. The pulsing became faster, a more constant stream of vibration until it was buzzing in her hand, meaning Magnus had decided precisely what direction to go in. She nodded south and said "Let's go."

Clara, Hardy, and Isaac glanced to Crawford, who only tipped his hat as confirmation before following closely behind Rose. Hardy exhaled, shoulders slouching as air deflated him like an old balloon. "This should be fun…"

He trudged after Rose and Crawford, Isaac and Clara close behind.

She walked beside Isaac, but he felt her eyes watching him as though they were on his back. He tensed up. "You know, if we pass your hometown…"

He grimaced. "I wouldn't say a word."

He hurried hurried to catch up with Hardy, ignoring the set of eyes that were now definitely watching his retreating frame.

Sewing, as any 18th century woman would tell you, is the cornerstone of femininity. Women practiced the art often, and with the persistence of anybody who had to live their entire life without video games or sports. Sewing also, as any of these 18th century woman would tell you, is a real pain.

Isabel pricked herself for the third- or fourth- time, tried once more to stitch the two pieces of cloth together, and instead decided she'd had quite enough of whatever purgatory she'd found herself stuck in. Sleeping Beauty only had to get pricked ONCE to fall asleep, she'd say that she more than earned a nap. "This is so-!" She flicked her tired wrist around, trying to find the right word. How to best describe the ludicrousness of her current task without lowballing her grievances or insulting her teacher. Ah, yes. That's the right word. "Stupid! This is so stupid! How is sitting here sewing going to save anyone?"

Dimitri glanced up from his sewing job, cool eyebrow raised. Zarei, too, glanced up from her task, reading a book which, comparatively, was a favorable task to whatever this nonsense was. Zarei herself looked bored, but not surprised. She'd most likely been anticipating Isabel's outburst, as was customary once every class. Not every period, no, every class that Isabel had to be subjected to some of the most boring, menial tasks she'd ever had to do for a grade. Zarei's class. "Isabel," Zarei started, and she could already hear the routine disinterest. "In a life or death situation, you may have to temporarily sew and dress or cauterize a wound." She adjusted her glasses and mumbled, in equal irritation, "they wouldn't let me have fire in the classroom, so this will have to do."

"This is a waste of our time!"

Dimitri, as chill as always, lifted one hand, a motion he seemed to carry out every time she had these routine outbursts, as though she was a wild spirit and needed to be tamed and reined in. "Isabel-"

"No! I'm sick of this! The traitor who released those monsters is still out there and we have no idea who they are or what they want!"

Zarei seemed unperturbed, though she shut her book with one snap and set it off to the side of her desk. "Isabel-"

"What are we sitting here sewing for? We're just wasting time-!"

"Isabel!"

She choked, instinctually stepping back as Zarei's hands slammed upon the instructor's desk. This… this was not part of the routine, but she supposed her outburst had been more emotionally-charged than her others had been. Zarei usually took her complaints in stride, even snarked about setting up a suggestions box for Isabel to leave comments in (that way she could dispose of them easier). This time, though, Zarei looked her dead in the eye, unblinking, unmoving. Isabel looked to her left where Dimitri sat at his desk, found his hand still raised cautiously, though it'd moved some to avoid her flaring aura.

Fine.

She growled to herself, sliding back down into her seat, but unwilling to continue stitching. Instead she glared at the two bits of cloth and used the needle to take small jabs at her desk. Zarei wouldn't say anything, would probably just be happy she wasn't complaining. She'd just have to deal with her restlessly squirming in her seat until class was over in another handful of minutes. God, she hoped Max was having a better time.

The gym was larger than the auditorium their Training 101 class typically monopolized. Once the bell had rung and all the class had been seated, when Spender announced that they'd all be transferring to the gym for the day, Max had almost felt the collective sigh of relief that hung like the usual unease in the atmosphere. He glanced at Collin, who had taken to walking the very thin line between the waking world and the unconscious one with his chin rested in his hand, eyes slowly inching shut before they popped open again after a restless three seconds of shut-eye. Johnny sat at his other side, practically bouncing up and down in his seat. Probably the least claustrophobic the psychopath has felt in weeks.

Spender stood at the bottom of the bleachers, raising his hands in a sad attempt to get his large, voluble class to more of a hushed whisper. Because Spender was a quiet man naturally, and passive normally, his voice was lost in the sea of early-morning chit-chat, the kind that was kept in-check by smaller class periods. Max watched with varying degrees of amusement as Spender circulated through every trick in the book to get a bunch of confused, aggravated, loquacious middle-schoolers to shut their overused traps. He first tried to clear his throat. When that didn't work, he tried to drop his teacher's guidebook on the gym floor- when that was stifled and dulled in the vastness of the gym walls, he resorted to yelling at the top of his lungs. That still didn't work, and Max could see the man struggling to figure out how else to reign in a hundred or so students. His calloused hands were clawing at his face, eyes visibly heavy with exhaustion, even behind his shades. When all hope seemed to be lost, Coach Oop set one heavy hand on Spender's shoulder, gave him a pitying look, and got the attention of every student the way only a gym coach knew how- screaming and just being louder than the normal teacher.

Chatter seemed to fade almost instantly, and Spender shot Coach Oop a grateful look.

He cleared his throat as Oop retreated to his office. "Class, today we are going to begin working the physical aspects of your new abilities, rather than your minds." Max could practically feel Johnny vibrating in the seat next to him. He shot the red-head an eye that he ignored entirely. "Now, I've always been more focused on the intellectual end of training-"

"Couldn't tell!"

Spender picked Max out in the crowd immediately, glared at him, and received nothing but a grin in response. "... So I've asked an old master of mine to stand in for me." An elderly man stepped forward, huge and terrifying for being gray in the face. "This is Master Guerra. Say hello, class."

"Hello, Master Guerra…." Roughly a quarter of the class even bothered, and those that did were unenthusiastic at best and downright resentful at worst, clearly not knowing what was ahead of them. Max swallowed hard; he'd heard stories from Ed about Isabel's grandfather, stories that Isabel had commented "didn't even graze the bottom" of just how tough Master Guerra could be. And that was on his granddaughter… what would he be like with kids he had no attachment to? Max felt his spine shiver preemptively at the possibilities. Collin leaned over, now much more awake than he had been two minutes prior, and whispered.

"Hey, is that Isabel's dad or something?"

Max cupped a hand over one side of his mouth so Collin could hear him better. "Grandpa, actually. And probably the embodiment of abuse of power…"

Master Guerra's eyes roamed the crowd, but there was something about his gaze that felt like he was simultaneously singling out every single child in the bleachers. Max had the crazy theory that it was because he was, in actuality, seeing every one of them, judging them, assessing them, what they could do. He clearly didn't like what he was seeing, because he took a step forward and his eyes were no less calculating. "Spineless, each and every one of you. Hardly spectrals, hardly able at all. If you want to be worth anything, you will do as I say, and you will do it the first time!"

The class, silent before, fell deathly mute.

Spender stepped forward, chuckling with a nervous edge as he set one unsure hand on Guerra's shoulder- er, tried to. He decided against it last moment. "Master, these children still hardly understand the concept of tools, perhaps you should tone it down just a little-?"

"You asked for my help. This is what you receive."

"Ah."

Isaac cringed. The little cabin he'd taken shelter in was just as creepy and run-down as when he'd last seen it. Creepier, in fact, now that he'd bled all over its floors.

Crawford stopped at the front door and puffed on the last bit of his cigar. Rose passed him by and reached for the handle, eyes on the compass in her hand. "Should I do it?"

Rose shook her head. "Don't waste the energy yet, Crawford. We know the story here pretty well already." She pressed the door open with a sickeningly loud creak, a sound that made Isaac shudder. "Catriona left this place in a hurry in the dead of night. If we want Magnus to keep her scent, we've gotta find something that will lead us to where she went next."

The group pushed on. Crawford went first, one arm protectively extended in front of Rose, other hand cocked with one of his guns. Rose glanced around, looking for anything that may emit a trace of Catriona's aura, careful to let Crawford open doors. The place should have been abandoned, but the odds of Consortium pawns and antagonistic spirits were a possibility she was unwilling to overlook. Clara clung to one of Hardy's sleeves. They were switching off who was looking out in which direction, leaving Isaac to keep his eyes straight ahead. More of a challenge than it may seem, with the cabin's darkness spanning well past Rose and Crawford. He tried to keep in pace with them, but his legs were shaking and he wasn't sure if it was because he was three different kinds of dead the last time he was here, or if the draft of the run-down walls was getting to him.

Clara edged closer to Isaac, willing herself to feel calmer with somebody on either side of her. "There's so much blood, everywhere…" Her breath hitched and trembled with every word, hot breath running down his neck. Miss Rose looked back and found his eyes. He frowned and glanced away. They made it to the end of the hallway, what Isaac remembered as the bedroom he'd taken residence of that night. He was right; Rose raised the compass and the light of her aura illuminated the very edge of the bedpost, rotting and covered in, what Isaac assumed was probably, more of his dried-up blood.

Hardy's foot made contact with something at his feet, and he leaned forward to pick it up. "Oh hey, a diary!" He said one second. "Ah!" He said the next.

Clara glanced over Hardy's shoulder to see the page he'd opened up to by chance, and stifled the scream she instinctually reacted with behind her interwoven fingers. The page was yellow with age and slick with dust from infrequent use, though it had clearly been handled somewhat recently, the way fingerprints edged the pages. The page Hardy had opened up to, the one Isaac now glanced over Clara's shoulder to see, was covered in nothing but pen- and a lot of it. Frantic. Some unlegible. Dark and as black as a widow drenched in the blackest of inks. Words scribbled next to sketches of spirits, of auras and eyes that seemed to watch from behind the safety of the page.

Why can't he see them

I'm not crazy

Help

Hardy screamed and accidentally tossed the book a foot in the air, only to start juggling it with unsteady hands the moment it came back down, whimpering the whole time. Isaac snorted and held out his hand so Hardy could pass it to him- and he did, by using one juggling hand to smack the book mid-air in Isaac's general direction. Isaac caught the diary by the spine in his open palm, flipping it back open with relative ease. "This is her's?"

Just as soon as he opened it, a gloved hand snatched it from him. Miss Rose grinned and raised to compass to the diary, humming at the confirming buzz of her tool. "This is the next piece in Catriona's puzzle, kiddies!"

Kid after kid lined up in parallel with the bullseyes across the gymnasium floor, each new frontrunner as confused as the last. Guerra and Spender stood to the side, eyeing individual auras as they hit or missed the targets- and they rarely hit. Guerra was grimacing, looking every bit terrifying as Spender felt. He kept switching from watching the students to watching his master, frequent enough to keep an eye on his reactions, but not frequent enough for Guerra (hopefully) to notice.

Max was third in one of the first lines. All the better, in his opinion, for getting this over with as fast as possible. He aimed at the target a few feet away, concentrated. He'd had so much on his mind lately. Isabel, Spender, Ed…. His eyes narrowed as blue crossed his vague vision- the kid next to him, but it was enough. He took one quick breath and took his shot. Black gas, perfectly rounded, perfectly paced, hit the bullseye head-on, nearly knocking it over in a clash of red and white against a crawling web of black that descended over it.

Spender's eyes widened, a small smile inching across his face. He'd been worried that all of the attention he'd had to put into training these classes had denied his original students somehow of the attention he felt was vital to truly learning to hone their new powers, but if Max's spectral shot was any indication-!

"Don't get so excited." Guerra was watching the children still, but Spender could feel the disappointment in him radiating from his drilled eyes. He pretended not to notice. "Spectral shots are child's play. That your student is capable of such a feat places him on par with Isabel at five years of age."

The next group of students stepped up. Max met Collin's eyes on his way back to the bleachers.

Collin looked panicked, gesturing to the targets, then gesturing back to the hands Max was well aware would be unable to conjure up any aura at all, let alone get a spectral shot off. Max winced and shrugged at him. Can't help ya there, man.

Collin got up to the bat and mimed for dear life, found other kids doing the same thing. Each pointed and breathed and stood there waiting for auras that never built and shots that never burned through the distance. They turned to each other, confused, some agitated, some lackadaisical about the whole thing.

Guerra turned to Spender with a glare in his eye, and all he could do was smile nervously and swallow the fear gnawing at his throat like acid.

Nature walks were run-of-the-mill for Master Hashimoto's dojo. Ed never quite got the importance of them, and when he asked for clarification the answer was always "something-something peace" or "something-something tranquility".

Aka, "Something-something Ed isn't interested."

But alas, they were required. Every student in the dojo would wake up at roughly 5am, clothe themselves, then walk a mile-long hike through the woods before they could all return home to feast upon the breakfast Hashimoto no doubt would have laid out for them when they got back. As beautiful as the scenery was this time of year, Ed was far more interested in getting back so he could settle the uncomfortable tugging and gurgling of his stomach.

The start of the day was always the hardest. He knew this. And like always, he'd get through it. That didn't mean he felt like trekking up a mountain of flowers today, though.

He sighed and carried onward, barley giving the beautiful red roses he passed a sidelong glance. Well, he almost didn't. The vibrant red caught his eye, and he fell a few steps behind admiring the way the morning dew dripped from the soft petals.

Red was supposed to be the color of aggression, of hunger and anger and danger, but it was also adventure, passion…

Love.

A laugh he knew better than his own crossed his mind's ear, and he almost hated the way he instantly drew the connections to tan skin and red, so much red. Ed shook his head clear and turned away, transitioning into a light jog to catch up to the rest of his peers. This was crazy, he was being crazy. What that girl said meant nothing. What Dimitri said meant nothing, just people being people and misunderstanding his relationship with Isabel. They were like siblings! She was his best friend! He shook his head clear with finality.

He caught up with the rest of the group with ease, not that it was difficult. It seemed like he was the only one eager to get back to food, because his peers had taken a decidedly slower pace. He'd lightly jogged like an old man who'd just watched his small weiner dog steal his slipper, and still, he'd managed to catch up in about thirty seconds. Ed huffed, shoulders slumping in the way that usually got him a fist upside the head from Guerra and a small scolding from Spender.

"Guys, look! He's letting me feed him!"

One of the other students had paused to bend down a few feet in front of him. A quick side-step confirmed that she'd palmed a nut from the ground, and that a small squirrel had taken interest in it. A few other students coo'ed and some bemoaned not having their phone to take a picture. Ed felt himself smiling despite his grouchy mood. The squirrel was, after all, pushing the boundaries of cute. Big beady eyes, tail twitching, head tilting as it tried to communicate with his fellow student in a language it didn't know she didn't understand. Part of his heart, which he found had somewhat frozen over the last few weeks, melted on the spot. She opened up her palm, and the squirrel readily sprinted for it, pausing on her fingers to test the nut and see that it was real. Chestnut brown fur, spots of darker hair that looked black in the early morning sunrise-

-- brown eyes under long lashes, squinting with mirth as he made her laugh, his favorite sound in this world and the next.

Ed froze mid-thought, eyes widening so much he thought they would fall out of the sockets. He'd done it again, the same thing he'd been doing the past- how long had it been? Too long! Too long for this to still be a problem! Ed took several deep breaths, one hand pressed to his chest as he hyper-ventilated, or something close to it. He was just tired, that's all. He was busy a lot of the day training to become a man worthy...of… his mind trailed off again, and Ed felt his hands tearing his hair straight off of his head before he even registered the deep-seeded hand that felt like it was tugging twenty different chords of his heart.

I do not like Isabel! I do not like Isabel! I do not like Isabel!

"Get out of my head!"

There was a silence around him, and he couldn't help but think that it was a little odd, considering all the cute-animal-fawning that'd been happening a few seconds ago. He opened his eyes, which had been screwed shut in his agony, to find his entire class staring at him. Even the squirrel, which had been so content with its nut before, had turned its curious eyes on him as if waiting for an explanation. Ed blinked. "I yearn for the sweet embracing heat of my gaming console."

His peers seemed to shrug it off, nod, mumble "yeah, yeah that sounds about right".

[cassiopeiassky]

The Potato of Mass Destruction

Hello, everyone!  Here is a little something to make up for all the angst I’ve been writing lately.  This is my submission for @ruckystarnes Rae’s Summer of Satire Challenge, the prompt is  “If I’m dying, let me eat cake.”/“You’re not dying.”/“Let me eat cake anyway.”  The prompt is in bold.

Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2745

Summary: It’s your kids’ birthday party today, and everything is going well until some of your family arrives with an early birthday present for the boys.  Chaos ensues.  It’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt; Bucky, to be exact, when he is the victim of an extraordinarily random freak accident.

Warnings:  There’s not much here, kids.  Some mild profanity (but seriously, you should expect that from me by now), mentions of guns, Bucky gets hurt.

Also - I used some characters from one of my other fics (WEMtbB), so this story *could* be viewed as kind of a spoiler, however it can also be read as a complete story by itself.  I hope you all enjoy it!

Oh!  And the pic at the bottom - yes, I did that.  I am that extra.

The clock reads shortly after eleven in the morning as you hum along with the radio.  Despite the fact that you’re currently operating under a time crunch, you’re in your happy place.  Zen mode.  Relaxed and at ease in creative bliss.  As the smell of vanilla wafts through the kitchen, you painstakingly create a one eyed minion on top of a cupcake.

Your twin boys are turning eight next week, and you had suggested a private birthday party for their friends.  The boys had no problems with their friends coming to the family party, but you did.  Your extended family happens to include Captain America and Iron Man, among others, and their dad is the infamous Winter Soldier. Your boys’ friends know this and are perfectly capable of acting like decent human beings when surrounded by people who save the world as their full-time job, but their parents tend to get a little…intense…especially two of the single moms and one of the single dads.

To get around the inevitable secondhand embarrassment – and to keep the attention on the kids, where it’s supposed to be – you’d proposed two separate parties on consecutive weekends. It’s a lot of work, but it’s worth it to make sure they get the birthday they deserve.

The goggles on the current minion finally meet your standards, so you carefully place it on the platter with the completed cupcakes and…wait…weren’t you finished with 11 cupcakes?  Instinct has you whirling around, fears immediately confirmed.

“Bucky, no!  You can’t eat that!”  You snatch it back, inspecting it for any smudges in the icing.

Your husband stares at you, eyebrows drawn together, empty hand still held up to his wide-open mouth.  “I can’t have even one?  You always let me taste test.”

“No, Love, I’m sorry. These are for the boys’ ‘friends only’ birthday party this afternoon.  The first batch failed miserably – it’s a new recipe and I had to play with the temp and timing – so now I have exactly the number of cupcakes needed for the number of guests.  It’s a good thing I decided to make the boys a small layer cake to blow out their candles or I’d have to uninvite two kids.”

“So…just make more?” he suggests hopefully.  “I like cupcakes.”

You pick up another cupcake and begin to decorate it.  “Buck, I promise you can have all the cake you want next weekend when we have the family party.  And honestly, next week’s cake will be better cake.”

“But it smells so good, Doll, please?  You love baking,” he steps behind you and wraps his arms around your waist as he nuzzles into your neck, “and I love when you bake.  See?  Win – win.”

You snicker at his antics as you lean into his embrace.   “I would if I could, Buck, but I can’t.  The party is in less than two hours. Besides, I’m out of rice flour and can’t use regular flour until after the party because I can’t risk any cross contamination in the kitchen.  So many of the kids have allergies that I had to make these gluten, dairy, egg, and nut free.”  

“Gluten, dairy, egg, and nut free – what the hell is holding these things together?”  

“Xanthan gum and flax seed.” You shake your head as you laugh, “One of the little girls that’s coming is allergic to all of those, plus citrus.  I was so surprised when her mom told me that, I asked if her daughter survived on rainbows and unicorn farts.  I mean, what else can she eat?”

Bucky chuckles as he stealthily reaches for the bowl of icing, but you catch him in your peripheral and bring a wooden spoon down on his knuckles.

Every now and then you manage to impress yourself with your reflexes.

“Ow!”

“Bucky!  I took me six tries to get decent tasting dairy free icing and I don’t have any to spare, so if you can’t keep your hands to yourself, get out of my kitchen!”

“I just wanted some cake,” he grumbles as he pouts.

You turn to him and take his face gently in your hands.  “Bucky, my love, I know and I’m sorry.  I promise you’ll have all the cake you want next weekend.  I’ll even make some with extra frosting – I’ll pile on the old lady flowers so it’s an inch and a half thick, just like you like.  I just don’t have any to spare right now.”

“But next weekend is so far away,” he whines.

Your fingers slide back and tangle in his hair, and you press your lips to his before whispering, “I’ll make it up to you later tonight, okay?”

He pretends to think about it for a few seconds.  “Deal,” he smirks before pulling you close and kissing you deeply.

Who knows how long you were wrapped in each other’s embrace before you hear the door open and close – could be thirty seconds, could be ten minutes – you can never tell when you’re like this with Bucky because time stands still.

“Aw man, they’re at it again.”  Jimmy tries to sound disgusted, but you happen to know that he secretly loves that his mom and dad are affectionate.  It makes him feel secure.

You giggle at your son’s observation, but Bucky doesn’t break form.  He takes kissing his wife very seriously.

“Do you really have to do that here?  We have people coming over.”  Artie does a better job at sounding irritated, but when Bucky finally breaks the kiss and you turn to him, you can see the small smile on your son’s lips.

“Yes, I do,” Bucky replies before you can shoo them away.  “I will have you know that, as your father, it is my solemn duty to show you how a man should treat his partner.”  Bucky’s hands rise to cradle your face as he speaks, “If you don’t see me treat your mom with love,” he pauses to press a sweet kiss to your lips, “adoration,” another tender kiss to your forehead, “and respect,” a gentle thumb glides over your cheek as he kisses the other, “then how are you supposed to know how to treat the person you love?  You can think it’s gross, but I’m doing my best to raise my boys to be loving, respectful men.”  He gets a mischievous glint in his eyes.  “Besides, your mom’s hot.”

“Oh, gross,” Artie makes gagging noises while Jimmy rolls his eyes.

The conversation is interrupted by a brief knock on the front door.  “Hello!  Everyone decent?”

“Grandpa!! Uncle Eddie!!” The boys run to the door and into the arms of the two men standing there. Technically it’s your grandpa and uncle, but Great Grandpa and Great Uncle Eddie is just too much.

“Hey boys, guess what?”

Your uncle has an impish glint in his eye…you know this look.  You don’t know what he’s holding behind his back, but whatever it is isn’t good. “Uncle Eddie, no.”

“Uncle Eddie, yes,” he declares, presenting what he was holding behind him.  “Happy birthday kiddos!”

“What the hell is that?”

You speak at the same time Bucky does, but louder.  “No! You are absolutely NOT giving my seven year olds a potato gun!”

“We’re practically eight, Mom!”

“Wait, it’s a what?”  Bucky looks both confused and delighted.

Your uncle smirks at the chaos he’s sown.  “It’s fun!”

“It’s a weapon of mass destruction!” you shoot back.

Uncle Eddie shoots you an unimpressed look.  “You’re being a little dramatic here.”

You march over to your uncle and lift the white plastic barrel of the gun.  It still has its old Scooby Doo sticker on the side of it – the one you’d put there as a little girl. “It’s your old gun??  The one you souped up to make it even more powerful?!   No.  NO.  And I’m not being dramatic – it’s works by combustion and the barrel is wider than two inches – it is classified as a weapon of mass destruction.”

“She’s not wrong,” Bucky interjects, sounding slightly impressed that you knew that.

“Aw, come on, peanut, you know we’re safe!  You let Bucky teach them gun safety and you’ve let us take them deer hunting for the past two years.  You trust us, you already know they’re in good hands!”

“Okay, first of all, the reason Bucky taught them gun safety is because there are guns in the house.  They’re inaccessible to the kids, but he did it as a precautionary measure.  Second, I am a grown ass woman.  I officially outgrew the nickname peanut years ago.  Finally –“

“No,” your grandpa interrupts gently, “You were my first grandbaby.  You’ll always be my peanut.”

“I – okay, fine.  But finally, your gun safety isn’t in question, the potato gun is.  It doesn’t even have a safety!”

Uncle Eddie grins as he pulls the can of Aqua Net out of its chamber.  “There, satisfied?”

You fold your arms and glare at your uncle.  

“Please, Mom? Pleeeeeeeease?”  Twin sets of beseeching eyes turn your way.  “Just until the party?”

You can feel Bucky’s stare boring into the side of your head.  He’d never contradict you in front of the boys – the two of you always back each other’s plays, and if ever there’s an issue it’s discussed later – but you can practically hear his curiosity begging for permission.  

It’s pretty clear you’re outnumbered.  And, truth be told, it’s practically a right of passage in your family.   There was a time when it was you and your uncle begging your mom…

“Fine,” you relent, “but it needs to disappear before any of the kids get here for the party.”

Five beaming smiles are your reward as your boys, grandpa, and uncle race to the back door to get to the back yard.

“You know they’re gonna be fine, right?”  Bucky holds in his excitement to pull you into a reassuring embrace; even now, your well-being is his priority.  “Your family is really good about firearm safety, even by my standards.”

“You do realize that I just agreed to let my uncle – who drove through town last Saturday night with his bare ass smushed against the back window of his car while my aunt drove – take our boys out back to fire a homemade device that has enough power to shoot a potato over 200 yards?”

Bucky grasps you by the shoulders as he pulls back, eyes wide.  “When you put it that way…”

All you can do is nod when you see his curiosity overtaken by common sense.

“I’m gonna go…supervise…” He doesn’t even have the sentence fully out before he’s speeding toward the door.

“They’re gonna be fine.   It’s fine.  Everything is fine,” you mutter to yourself as you return to the cupcakes.

* * *

It’s about a quarter past one, and the cupcakes are finally done.  The boys’ friends will probably start arriving within the next 40 minutes or so, so you take the platter of cupcakes and the boys’ small cake for the candles and head out to the back yard to set up the cake table.

When you step into the afternoon sunlight, the sounds of giggles and shrieks meet your ears.  They’ve been busy – all of the folding tables that had been placed are now decorated for the party.  The potato gun is sitting on top of one of the tables, abandoned for a game of chicken.  Jimmy is on Uncle Eddie’s shoulders, and Artie is on Bucky’s as they race around the yard.

As you lay out the cakes, everyone comes over to see what you’ve done, including the squirrel that lives in the tree providing the shade.

“Mom, those are so cool!” Jimmy’s practically jumping up and down.

Artie wraps his arms around your waist, “You’re the best momma ever,” he whispers, and your heart promptly melts.  

Unbeknownst to any of you, the squirrel had shifted to get a better look at the brightly colored confections, not catching anyone’s attention until it let out a loud squeak as it fell out of the tree.  This wouldn’t have been exactly catastrophic except that it landed just right on the potato gun, somehow managing to fire a potato straight into Bucky’s crotch from 20 feet away.

The former assassin drops to the ground like a sack of apples.  His mouth opens in a silent scream as the blood drains from his face and he curls into the fetal position.

“Bucky, are you okay? Bucky?”  You rush to kneel next to him, trying to offer whatever comfort you can. You’re reasonably sure that this can’t kill him, but that doesn’t mean it won’t hurt.

“Oh my God, I think this is the end of the line for me,” he groans, trying unsuccessfully to roll to his knees.  “I can see flashing lights.”  He gives up his efforts to move and curls into a ball in the grass.  “This isn’t how I thought I would go.”

“Buck, you’re going to be okay.”  Recognizing by his tone and actions that he isn’t in any actual danger, you have to swallow back the laughter that’s suddenly threatening to bubble out of you.

“No, I’m not.  I really think I’m dying, and if I’m dying, let me eat cake.”

Yep, he’s fine.  In pain, but fine.  “You’re not dying.”

“Let me eat cake anyway.”  He grins up at you with watery eyes.

You sit back on your heels, unable to fully hide your relief as you mutter, “You’re a shameless little shit.”

The boys approach slowly. “Dad?”  There’s a hint of fear in their voices, and this is enough for Bucky to pull himself together.

“I’m okay,” he whimpers as you help him sit up.  “I’m okay.”

They both kneel in front of him.  “Are you sure?” Jimmy whispers.

Bucky nods while grimacing. “It’s just your standard potato to the balls, not much worse than Auntie Nat’s cheap shot in a fight.  I’ll be fine, just gotta walk it off.  Now help me up.”

As the boys help their dad, your eyes turn to your uncle, who is trying unsuccessfully to hide behind your grandpa.  “Seriously? You forgot to pull out the hairspray and the potato?”

Uncle Eddie stares at you in mild terror.  “I’m, uh, I should probably take that thing and leave because you have guests coming soon. See you next weekend, guys!”  You’ve never seen your uncle walk so fast in your entire life.

You turn to your grandpa, and he starts chuckling.  The laugh you’d managed to hold back earlier comes out in a snort, and the boys, understanding now exactly what happened, begin giggling uncontrollably.

“I can’t believe I still don’t get cake.”  The disappointment in his hoarse voice is crystal clear.  Shaking your head and completely unsuccessful at stopping your laughter, you pull his arm over your shoulders and help him limp back to the house.  When you pass the fridge, you pause to grab a bag of frozen peas for him to ice his tender junk.

* * *

Later that night, after the party is done and the boys are all tucked in, you do what you can to make up for Bucky’s ordeal.  He’ll be fully healed by tomorrow – the bruises are already beginning to fade – but you still feel bad for him.  

Giggling to yourself as you put on the final touches, you listen carefully for any sign of your husband. Not that it really matters – if he doesn’t want to be heard, he’s as silent as night.  Satisfied that he’s still upstairs in your bedroom either reading or writing in his journal, you snap the lid onto the dish, grab a fork, and make your way to him.

When you enter your bedroom, you realize why you were able to get away with preparing your little surprise.  He’s outside on the balcony with the doors closed.

Bucky turns his blue eyes your way when you join him, smiling softly as he reaches for you before noticing the thing in your hand.  Immediately recognizing the cake carrier, his eyes grow wide with delight.  “Is that for me?”

You smile as you gently place the dish in his lap.  “Mmm hmm.”

He removes the cover and bursts out laughing at what he finds.

A chocolate cake, decorated with an abundance of flowers and frosting at least an inch thick all the way around, with a message that leaves no room for misunderstanding as to whom this cake is for.

“Here’s your damn cake, you little shit.”

Tags:  @hellomissmabel @howdoesoneadult  @nykitass @danimuhle @iwillbeinmynest  @shifutheshihtzu @passiononfire​  @learisa​ @widowvinter​  @kaaatniss ​ @ladylizzieofdarbyshire​ @denialanderror  @k-nighttt​ @givemethatgold​ @manders2487 ​ @afangirlrambles​ ​ ​ @polkadottedpillowcase​ @msshadowboxer​ @bluebrrn @saysay125​  @aikibriarrose @saharzek @mmauricee @imhereforbvcky  @whenallsaidanddone @supernatural508  @scarlettsoldier  @natalie-nightcourt  @im-beautifully-sewn  @lovemarvelousfics  @feistytravel  @tbetz0341  @nearly-whitches  @jamie-leah  @shliic  @dessinemoiunehistoire  @lucywinchester2000  @solarbarnes  @a-proper-chicken  @movingonto-betterthings

[hysterialevi]

Blood on the Looking Glass pt. 2

From Geoffrey’s POV

GUARD OF PRIWEN HQ

Returning to our base after a long day of work, Woodbead and I made haste in the darkness of the night as birds sang faintly in the distance, signaling the start of a new dawn. 

To my disappointment, the Guard of Priwen hadn’t been making as much progress as I’d hoped...and we’d already been here for an entire fortnight. I knew catching Reid would be no easy task -- especially in a city like Paris -- but it was evident that the Ekon had grown accustomed to evading our men. 

After all, we spent so much time fighting him in London. It only made sense that, the more we hunted him down, the more he would adapt to our tactics. And he was no longer some confused, fish-out-of-water newborn. 

Jonathan had evolved into an experienced, superior Ekon with the blood of an ancient vampire...and he certainly knew how to put it to good use. We couldn’t afford to make the mistake of underestimating him. I already made that mistake once -- and it cost me my life.

“You think the others have found anything yet?” Andrew asked me, disrupting the deathly silence.

I sluggishly slid a hand down my face, opening the entrance to our base.

“Hopefully. I have faith in the Guard’s skills, but Paris has been barren lately in terms of leads. Reid certainly knows how to cover his tracks. And so do his allies.”

A brief memory flashed in my mind, causing a scoff to escape me. 

“To think, I used to believe Jonathan would end up getting killed by some random Priwen. The first time I met him, he was nothing but a feeble corpse seeking refuge in the rundown Pembroke. I never expected him to become the threat he is today. Shows you how foolish I was to not kill Swansea. ...What was that man thinking? Offering vampires shelter? In a hospital, out of all places. It’s no wonder their patients always turned up dead.”

Woodbead followed me inside, locking the entrance behind us.

“None of us could’ve predicted this,” he reassured. “Especially not from someone who used to make a living saving people. Trust me, you’re not the only one who didn’t see this coming.”

I shook my head. “But it’s my job to know, Andrew. As your leader, it’s important that I’m able to detect these types of threats from a mile away. Otherwise, we’d all be dead.”

I let out a frustrated sigh. “Ah...I should have put a stake through Reid’s heart the moment I saw him. Would’ve spared London a colossal amount of trouble...but I suppose regrets are useless, aren’t they. All we can do now is put that leech down, once and for all, and avenge the countless lives he’s taken.”

“Come,” I beckoned. “Let’s see what the others have been doing.”

Entering our headquarters, Andrew and I were greeted with the distant sound of conversation coming from the rest of the members as we passed by our fellow Priwen. There weren’t as many of us in Paris as there were in London, but even then, I still had confidence in our success. 

After all, a smaller family meant it was easier for us to communicate, and on top of that, these people were chosen for being the best of the best. It was like having our own, elite group within the Guard...and that was precisely what we needed to kill Reid. I just hoped he hadn’t formed his own family.

Strolling through a tall, wooden archway, I headed towards the main area of the base which had been decorated with Priwen banners, swords and shields on the walls, shelves stuffed with books about vampires, elegant drapery, paintings of previous leaders, and a simple but bold chandelier hanging aloft.

But what really caught my attention was the large, circular table in the center of the room. It had been crafted out of a majestic mahogany with intricate designs of leaves, vines, and gargoyle heads carved into its sides. And on its surface, lay a vast map of the city marked with all sorts of icons. It was the perfect device for the Guard.

Upon arrival however, I noticed that there was already a pair of people seated at the table discussing something clearly urgent as they exchanged hushed words, careful not to alert anyone outside the base.

Among them was Eleanor Gray, a middle-aged woman who joined the Order just a couple years ago. She appeared stern and motherly on the outside with the gaze of a hawk, but carried a fire that burned like no other within. 

Her signature feature was a lengthy scar on her nose that she received from a fight with a Vulkod, and her short, black hair only had a few strands of silver in it despite her age. Just by looking at Eleanor, you’d never be able to guess she had such a dark history with Doctor Reid.

Apparently, the leech actually started out as a friend of the family, but things took a dark turn when her son grew too attached to him. It left the boy completely vulnerable to the Ekon’s true intentions, and one night, he decided to spend some time with Reid...only to never come back. 

Even worse -- when her husband tried to look for their missing son, he too met the same fate. By the time Eleanor learned what had happened, Reid was already long gone.

Their deaths instantly drove Eleanor straight to my doorstep. She just appeared outside our base one day, standing in the middle of the pouring rain with nothing but a shotgun in her hands, and a desire to get revenge.

The man sitting beside her now, Alexander Hale, was the first to befriend our new recruit. 

Hale was a much different story compared to Eleanor. In fact, I didn’t really know what his story was in the first place. Alexander had never been a man of many words, and he only ever spoke when he thought something needed to be said -- which made him quite a mystery to the rest of us. 

Regardless of his wordless tendencies however, Alexander still managed to be one of the more prominent members in the Guard. His head of neat, auburn hair was quite hard to miss, and his globular, blue eyes stood out like a pair of crystal orbs. There was also the fact that his presence alone was enough to make an impact. I had seen rooms full of people fall completely silent upon his entry, and even I couldn’t deny that he did hold a somewhat intimidating temperament. 

I supposed that was why Hale made such a skilled vampire hunter.

Approaching the large table, I immediately got the attention of the other Guards as Eleanor’s head perked up, both of them now focused on me and Woodbead.

“McCullum, Andrew,” Eleanor said, sounding somewhat relieved. “You’ve returned. Did you find anything whilst you were out investigating?”

Woodbead pulled out the diary from Elise’s apartment.

“Another lost soul, I’m afraid...” He replied, placing it on the table. “It was a young woman named Elise this time. According to her diary, Reid had been seducing her for quite a while. And she fell for it.”

Eleanor’s nose crinkled in disgust, her eyes sinking downwards.

“...That bastard,” she whispered. “Always preying on those who can’t fight back. Oh...poor girl. I hope she was the only victim you discovered.”

“For now,” I confirmed. “What about you? What were you discussing before I arrived?”

“Well, there’s good news and there’s bad news,” she replied. “The good news is we may have identified one of Reid’s accomplices.” 

“...And the bad news?” I asked.

Eleanor leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. “We think they may be another Ekon named Edward Blackbourne. The locals here call him ‘The Pestilent.’ Apparently, he’s been around since the early eighteenth century, and has a habit of targeting young women. He’s also become somewhat of a bogeyman. The strange part however, is he hasn’t been in France for that long. The woman we spoke with said he only arrived two years ago.”

The pieces clicked in my head, leaving a feeling of dread in me. 

“...The same time Reid left London. That can’t be a coincidence. Where is this woman you mentioned?”

“She works at the nearby pub,” she answered. “Her name is Adelie. Though, be warned, she has a reputation for being somewhat...crazy.”

I raised a brow. “Why’s that?”

Eleanor chuckled, though not out of amusement. “She believes in vampires...but no one believes her.”

I gave her a nod. “I see. Well, I’ll go have a word with her; find out what else she knows. In the meantime, I want you and Alexander to patrol the area around here. I don’t know why, but I’ve noticed most of Reid’s victims have been from these parts. If we’re going to gather anymore clues, we should do it here. Andrew -- you’re with me.”

Woodbead straightened his posture. “Ready when you are, sir.”

Eleanor rose from her seat. “As are we.”

“Then let’s get to work, people,” I ordered. “We don’t have long before Reid or Blackbourne decides to strike again, and I certainly don’t plan to wait for them. These murders have to end now. So let’s move!”

Swiftly taking our leave, Andrew and I wasted no time in hurrying over to the pub Eleanor mentioned as we glided through the dawn’s fading darkness, anxious to avoid the sun. 

I knew it was incredibly risky to wander outside during this hour, but I couldn’t afford having my own men grow suspicious of me. There was already tension among the Guard with all the recent killings, and the last thing I wanted was for us to lose trust in each other. If my time with Carl Eldritch taught me anything, it was that infighting could be just as damaging to our Order as any vampire out there...and he was right.

“Sir.” Woodbead called out, causing me to pause for a moment.

“Yes?” I said. “What is it?”

The young man glanced at the sky, clearly preoccupied with something.

“...If you want me to speak with Adelie alone, just say the word. I could easily get the information we need, but I don’t want to see my leader burn alive just because we were a few minutes behind schedule.”

Despite my urge to retreat to the shadows, I refused.

“No, it’s better if I’m there. Anything could happen with all these vampires lurking around, and if trouble were to find us, I’d prefer you didn’t face it alone.”

He continued to push the subject. “You’ve seen me fight, McCullum. I know the scars on my face say otherwise, but I can defend myself. You don’t need to worry about me.”

I remained unswayed.

“I’m coming with you, Andrew. There’s no telling what we can expect, and I--”

Suddenly feeling light-headed, the world began to spin around me and I found myself stumbling for a second before tipping over, hurriedly using a nearby wall for support as Andrew practically threw himself in front of me. 

“Sir!” He exclaimed, fretting like a worried parent.

“...I’m...I’m all right...” I mumbled, waving a dismissive hand. “Just...need a minute...”

Andrew furrowed his brow in concern, instantly pinpointing the problem.

“You need blood, Geoffrey. You’re not getting enough.”

I gazed at him with heavy eyelids, shrugging weakly. “...And where...are we supposed to find that?”

Without saying anything, Woodbead simply gestured to his own neck, slightly pulling down the collar that concealed it. Again, I declined.

“We’ve talked about this before,” I reminded him. “I’m not feeding on you. Or anyone, for that matter.”

Still, Andrew insisted. “I can handle giving a little blood.”

I pushed myself off the wall, attempting to move on as if nothing happened.

“Well, I’d rather not take the risk. By nature, vampires are addicted to blood. If I taste even a drop of yours, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.”

“But--”

I regained composure, taking a deep breath. “I’m fine, Andrew. Really. My thirst won’t kill me, but it could kill you. Now, enough about this. Let’s return to the mission at hand. We only have an hour or so before the sun’s up. We should make haste.”

At last, the young man gave in, letting out an unsure sigh. 

“...As you wish, sir. Just...keep an eye on yourself, yeah? I don’t want you falling over while we’re out in the open.”

“It won’t come to that,” I reassured. “I promise.”

In reality though, I knew Andrew was right. I wasn’t going to be able to ignore this thirst for much longer. Ever since the minute I woke up in that godforsaken hospital where Jonathan left me, my throat had been parched. 

So far, I had been lucky enough to resist the temptation, but with every passing day, I could feel my body withering more and more as an aching sense of hunger consumed it from the inside-out. 

It continuously climbed its way up my list of concerns, and I had no idea when I would reach my breaking point. But no matter what, I told myself I couldn’t give in to the thirst. I just couldn’t. I refused to betray my people’s trust like that...and I wouldn’t.

A familiar voice suddenly whispered in my ear, their ghostly words interrupting my thoughts as my vision turned red.

“...Rotten or pristine, each heart contains the seeds of life. Drink at this river. Dry it all...!”

A series of chills ran up my spine. 

It was Jonathan. He was listening to me. I could feel it. 

No, I said to myself. Don’t do it. Resist the thirst. You must...!

Reid’s ominous chuckle echoed in my head.

“It is wise for the huntsman to sometimes let his prey go...but no famished hunter can run for long. Not even you...”

I gritted my teeth in frustration.

“Leave me be, you filthy leech...! I won’t walk down the same path as you. I won’t become a murderer.”

Another laugh escaped Jonathan, his tone dripping with malice.

“Give up this pointless charade, my progeny. You and I both know it won’t work forever. Embrace this gift I have given you, and welcome your true potential with open arms...”

With that said, my vision gradually returned to normal, and the red drained from the world like blood leaking out of a vampire’s feast. Before loosening his clutch on my mind however, Jonathan left me with one, final piece of advice as a temporary farewell.

“Satisfy your hunger...” he warned, “...or become it.”

[wardog-of-the-endless]

Wardog’s Fic Masterpost

You can find nearly all fics through my AO3 account, but here’s a list of links!

The Old Guard

Immortal Husbands- Nicolo di Genova x Yusuf al-Kaysani 

A Hunting (We Will Go); Part of Moonrise In The Hallows

Halloween Oneshot (Within a Larger Verse); Teen & Up- The Guard is a Shifter Pack, led by the fierce wolf Andy. Her fellow wolves Sebastian & Nile, along with the hyenas Lykon and Yusuf are fierce and far-ranging. To say nothing of the vampire, Nico, that is somehow one of them. When their youngest wolf goes missing, the Guard hunts down those responsible and will terminate them without hesitation. The fact that there's another prisoner being held in the basement probably isn't important...

Reluctantly Making Art 

Ongoing; Teen & Up- While Yusuf al-Kaysani would prefer to be a hermit in his apartment and get over his recently ended bad relationship (and subsequently worse breakup), he has friends that have decided that is not his decision to make. He might ignore them, except for the fact that they're his best friends AND the most terrifying women he's ever met, so he doesn't have much choice. He goes to breakfast, he goes to art class, and he falls head over heels for the beautiful Italian man sitting as the model. Because of course, he does; that was the plan all along. (Joe has to admit... it's a pretty good plan.) 

MARVEL

IronStrange- Tony Stark x Stephen Strange

Wishes (Better Left Ungranted)

Complete; General Audiences-  Tony makes a few wishes, but some are better left ungranted.

‘Till Then

Complete; Mature- Stephen Strange is trying to work at Kamar-Taj when his boyfriend texts him... from his Malibu bed. Stephen opens a portal to talk to him about it and they wind up, not really talking about it. ( Tony Stark Bingo Explicit Card A4 KINK: Masturbation)

The Theory of Magic 

Ongoing- Open for Expansion; General Audiences- A get together series in which Stephen Strange has a crush and actually makes a movie. Stories are Complete but the Series is Ongoing, available for expansion via prompts when open. 

 Remind Me

Study and Practice

Burden of Proof

Absence Makes the Heart

Time Heals All

Ongoing- Open for Expansion; General Audiences- Stephen Strange and Tony Stark are married. A little Team Cap antagonistic. Part 3 is a little Dark!IronStrange. 

What the Doctor Ordered

Cloak and Dagger

Break Rules (Not Oaths)

IronPanther- Tony Stark x T’Challa

Hot Chocolate

Complete; General Audiences- (Fluff and Flirting)- So a combination of a prompt and a ship. From jacarandabanyan "Hot Chocolate" and bash-it-all's "IronPanther".

WinterHawk- James Barnes x Clint Barton

Well-Armed (To Hold)

Complete; Teen Audiences- Tumblr Prompt: "Would you ever write WinterHawk? <3"

A Meddling Affection

Complete One Shot; General Audiences-  A belated Birthday ficlet for the lovely Ru! Combined with Tumblr Prompt: All Avengers, clock, poking (Heading toward WinterIronHawk)

WinterIron- James Barnes x Tony Stark

Children of Light

Ongoing Series; General to Teen- Slowbuild to WinterIron. Deals with the Death of JARVIS, the first activation of FRIDAY, and JARVIS’s eventual resurrection. (Note that J is the “Major Character Death” referenced.) This is angsty because I have FEELINGS about the loss of JARVIS and the fact that we never mourned him in MCU. Stories and Series ongoing. 

Son of Stark

To Lose a Child

A Child’s Initiative

I Will Always Find You

Complete; General Audiences- Tony as Snow White, Bucky as Prince Charming in an AU snippet of OUAT. 

Collision With a Dream

Complete; General Audiences- Bucky's walking along arguing about Russian Lit when he literally runs over his dream guy. Tasha does what she usually does, she makes it worse. That's alright, Tony's apparently the forgiving sort.

(You Wanna) Date My Dad

Complete; General Audiences- Featuring Harley Keener! "Would you ever write a fic where Bucky meets Harley?"

To Cure a Hangover (You Need Espresso and a Date)

Ongoing; General Audiences- Prompt: "Would you ever write: WinterIron with age difference? Like teacher!Bucky with Student!Tony? :P"

I Was Promised a Flying Car

Complete; General Audiences- Prompt: Would you ever write a fic where Tony and Bucky is bonding over being nerds/loving science? (And doing all kinds of wacky, mythbuster-esque experiments that Tony whips up any time Bucky begins a sentence with "I wonder what would happen if...?")So it's not "science" driven, but science nerd Bucky did spend his last night before deployment at the Stark Expo, staring at a flying car...

Mechanics, Millionaires, Models & More

Ongoing Series; General Audiences- Tony Stark and Bruce Wayne are friends from childhood. When Tony as a single dad catches the eye of the model James Barnes, there’s some mutual Instagram-Stalking and a lot of flirting. 

Tony’s First Friend

Coping for An Age

(Walk Walk) Fashion Baby

Milkshakes and Motorcycles

Ongoing; Teen Audiences- Bucky, second to the Captain for the Howling Commandos, hears a scuffle around the corner and finds himself with an armful of just about the prettiest little lost lamb he's ever seen. Since Tony don't seem too keen on his now-ex, Bucky's gonna buy him a milkshake, wrap him in a leather jacket, and hopefully show him a good time.

California Dreamin’ A Beach Bums Verse

Ongoing; Teen Audiences- Note: A Special Collaboration Series! This is a WinterIron get together with puns, angst, fluff and more! Make sure to read my partner maevee’s stories!

Don’t Tell (Secrets)

(Everyday Is A) Winding Road

Mai Tai (Offer You A Drink)

When You Wish Upon A Stark -Maevee!

We’re Gonna Need a Bigger Bucky -Maevee!

Adorato

Ongoing; James Barnes, the Winter Soldier, has been out of the ice and Hydra’s hands for a month the first time he hears a familiar voice. (A SoulMate AU)

True, Strong and Brave

Ongoing; Teen- Bucky Barnes moves into the tower and receives help from an otherwise elusive Iron Man. But when the team gets called out and things go wrong, Steve gets a reality check as to what has been done in his name. Bucky steps up, he's one of the few who can. (Team Cap Critical; Anti-Wanda)

Tired

Complete; General Audiences- From a Prompt on Tumblr: Random Sentence- “I’ll do it for you.”

(Were) Whisperer

Ongoing; Mature- In a world where Aliens rain destruction from portals through space, ancient Gods arrive on beams of light, and a certain Billionaire Philanthropist darts around the world in a metal suit: there really is a very high bar for what is considered "weird". Shapeshifters hardly register, having been long known. You’re either a Human, a Were, or a Whisperer. Most people can prove whether they’re the first or the second, a few will lie about being the third. Alternately, there's Tony. Tony Stark is one of the few people pretending the first and burying the third, and he’s more or less in the clear with it until Steve Rogers catches up with the Winter Soldier, and brings him home to Avengers Tower. Tony doesn’t have to say a word, the Wolf knows differently.

An Attraction

Complete; Jurassic World AU-  Write... a crossover/au of the last non-marvel movie you saw and marvel (if ships, winteriron?). Essentially Jurassic World & Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom Snippets with WinterIron. Originally Posted on Tumblr: Expansion Pack for AO3!

The Continental

Teen- From the Prompt: “ Would you ever write: Winteriron as a John Wick!AU?” James "Winter" Barnes has been accepted into The Continental Hotel's exclusive clientele. While preparing for a job he visits the Hotel Lounge and meets the gorgeous singer, Tony Stark. The Owner's Son, the New Manager... Maybe the love of his life.

Impressions

Ongoing; General Audiences- So my adorable FandomNiece made me a beautiful Moodboard for True, Strong and Brave. I offered a gratitude fic for her pairing and trope of choice! This is a WinterIron Identity Porn story!

New Hire

Complete One Shot; General Audiences- In reaction to the Prompt: "Actually totally WinterIron and Peteypie, with...sitter or teacher Bucky???" (And things got out of control as they do, I guess.)Essentially: Pepper hires a Bodyguard/Babysitter for Peter out of SHIELD's ranks. Tony is spiky about it, at least until he gets a look at the guy. (Yeah, he wants to climb that like a tree.)

(Let’s Go) Dancing

Complete One Shot; General Audiences- This is a Marvel Universe-Center Stage Fusion AU that no one asked for and everyone is getting anyway. Tony dances for the American Ballet Company as their featured ballerino, performing under the name Antonio Carbonell. James and Steve are two of the ABC's newest students, and James gets a chance to meet his crush on his first day. Just his luck, Tony is even better in person. (Natalia may have been setting them up all along.)

Next Year Will Be Better

Complete One Shot; General Audiences-  Just a quick story for Tony's birthday. Pre-Slash Tony Stark/James Barnes, and Tony acting as IronDad to the Spider Son and his Potato Gun Son.

The Most Powerful (Pillowfight)

Complete One Shot; General Audiences- In which Carol and Tony (aggressively) support each other and then do battle (with pillows) for their honor. Or each other's honor? It's unclear, things got out of control. (James Rhodes loves these idiots way too much.) This is a fill for the TSB 2019 Square: T2: A BATTLE/FIGHT/CONFRONTATION

Coffee, Curses, Kisses

Complete; General Audiences- Tony Stark drags himself out of his workshop on a regular Thursday morning. Well, mostly a regular morning. Except for Clint Barton lying on the breakfast bar in themed underwear. The theme is new, the rest is depressingly familiar. Ok, so maybe the rose petals are new too. (What the hell, Clint?) It's enough to make a billionaire grateful for the Avengers Alarm. Wait a minute, magic too? Fuck, this is just not Tony's day. (Until it really, really is.)This is a Fill for Tony Stark Bingo 2019 S4: FIRST KISS

Riding Roughshod

Ongoing; Teen & Up- The Heroic Captain America wakes up in a world that is integrated far beyond what he would have dreamed of when he went into the ice, though he never expected to be a part of it. A pioneer of mixed-race teams back in his own day, the last thing he expects is to be called upon to do so once again, this time gathering a group of heroes from some rather unlikely places. If that weren't enough to worry about, there's a wild-card Soldier with a familiar fighting style making trouble at top-security bases all over the world... and a shiny red and gold suit that doesn't seem to answer to anyone. That's to say nothing of the kid genius that's supposedly behind it.This is a Fill for Tony Stark Bingo 2019 R4: CentaursThis is a Fill for Bucky Barnes Bingo 2019 K3: Tony Stark/ Iron Man

Love Like Knives

Complete One Shot; Mature- Winter wakes up Tony when he wants someone to play rough with.This is a Bingo Fill for Bucky Barnes Bingo 2019. U4: [Image: Winter Soldier holding a knife.] 

(I Will Try) To Fix You

Complete One Shot; General Audiences- Dark Fic; An Extremis-modified Tony Stark decides he could run the world better than those currently in power, but he needs his pliable boyfriend James to go away and the Winter Soldier to come back...

WinterIron Week 2019

Day 1. The B Team  First Meeting/“Are we really gonna do this here?” 

Day 2. Done  “You done yet?” 

Day 3. A Second Take, A First Impression  Bed Sharing / “I’m not drunk enough for this.” / Soulmates

Day 5. Hunting For (You)  Celebration / “Bad timing?” / Prosthetic Arms

Day 6. Give It Away  Identity Porn / “You should shut up now.” / Proof that Tony Stark has a Heart

WinterWidow/RussianRoulette- James Barnes x Natasha Romaova

No Fics Currently

Stony- Steve Rogers x Tony Stark

A Guardian of Light

Ongoing; Teen- a.k.a. that time Steve sank the Valkyrie in the Arctic and became a spirit-walking wolf to guide Tony, at Frigga’s suggestion.

Shield Studios Ltd. 

Complete- Open for Expansion; General Audiences- All the Avengers in a non-powered voice-acting AU for an animated show called "Assemble" staring their Marvel counterparts. Tony/Steve have a mutual admiration/crush but it's not actually romantic and can be read as gen.

Assemble!

Phil’s Failed Plan

You’re Welcome to Try

The Vague & The Unmistakable

Complete; General Audiences- Looking back on it, there are several things that should have tipped Steve off that today was his Birthday. (Starting with the fact that it's suddenly clear Tony engineered every one of them.)

Stucky- Steve Rogers x James Barnes

No Fics Currently

Stuckony- Steve Rogers x James Barnes x Tony Stark

On The Wing

Complete- Open for Expansion; Teen- A Wing AU for Stuckony. Stories are Complete but the Series is Ongoing, available for expansion via prompts when open.

Fluttering

Turtledove

(I’ll) Be Good

Complete; Mature- So when the tumblr prompt "Would you ever write...ABO winterironshield with alpha Tony?" meets my Kink Card S2 Square "Alpha/Beta/Omega Society" this is where we end up.

Allergic to Coddling

Complete (But Possibly Ongoing); From the Prompt: "Would you ever write Tony Stark having an allergic reaction to something and the rest of the Avengers babying him to the point of ridiculousness because they just love him so much?" Sort of Stuckony, sort of Everyone is Poly Because Avengers? Your choice.

Poly Avengers- Everyone Loves Everyone 

Everybody Loves Me

Ongoing; From the Prompt: "Would you ever write a TonyXEveyone fic? Not exactly everyoneXeveryone, but everyone *in love* with Tony only?" Note this is a Partial Fill which may be expanded on later. Featuring Tales of Suspense Hawkeye/Comic Clint Barton, aka deaf and a dumpster kid until the end.

Non Romantic- No Shipping

Shut UP, Bucky!

Complete; Teen-  From the hellscape of Discord Discussions I bring you: QueenWuppy: "During World War II condoms were not only distributed to male U.S. military members, but enlisted men were also subject to significant contraception propaganda in the form of films, posters, and lectures. A number of slogans were coined by the military, with one film exhorting "Don't forget — put it on before you put it in." "guys i was doing research and and steve and bucky were subjected to this". AKA Bucky makes SO MANY COMMENTS about Super Soldier Sized Protection. So many.

We Can’t Plot Murder All The Time

Complete; General Audiences- From the Prompt: "Would you ever write Deadpool/Tony (IronPool? DeadMan? IronDead? Dunno their ship name :b)" AN: I don’t ship them so this is a non-romantic. 

Video Games and Phoenix Metaphors

Complete; General Audiences- Pepper plays Pokemon GO for SI Employee Morale... But she thinks the boss should be in on it too, and the best way to get Tony to do something is to get Rhodey to do something, and then clue Tony in. (Hint: It works.)

(The Upgrade) You’re Missing

Complete One Shot; General Audiences- Riri Williams is having a bad day, and though her AI TONY can't fix it, he can call in reinforcements.

The Losers

A Touch of Grace

Ongoing Series; Gen to Teen- Cougar has a bad feeling right before the Fadhil operation, and he admonishes Jake to be careful. Jake mostly pays attention, but Cougs is pretty distracting. (Slight D/s tones and Subspace.)

If I Touch You, Will You Listen? (Cougar’s POV)

If I Listen, Will You Touch Me? (Jensen’s POV)

You and Tequila (Make Me Crazy)

Ongoing; Teen & Up- Fortalvarez Tequila is a family business that's been in operation for a hundred and fifty years. Currently, under the management of the family matriarch Constanza, the business will soon be passed to her beloved grandson Carlos. The problem is, Constanza does not care for modern technology or the fact that all of her grandbabies (but especially her favorite) are single. Her solution is a single advertisement for a new Social Media Expert, which is about to be answered by the very handsome (and rather impulsive) Jake Jensen.From the Prompt: "Cougar's family runs a tequila distillery in Mexico. A luxury one. But his abuelita is getting too old to run the place with the firm hand that's required and someone has to take over. Jensen? Jensen is GREAT at social media management. SOMEONE WRITE IT SO I DON'T HAVE TO."

Tag (You’re It)

Complete One Shot; Teen & Up-  Jake hacks a new system for the express purpose of getting the Losers prank dog tags printed and delivered. Mostly because his Unit is full of people that make bad decisions, himself included. And also? To flirt with Cougar. Jake is willing to do stupid, stupid things in order to flirt with Cougar.