#sorry i couldn't find just yellow and green only there were only mix ones but still thanks for the easter asks!

[adrainesworld]

A/N: I couldn't resist this prompt.

"You still smell like him. Go wash again," my husband says, with an apologetic smile and a pitiful look in his eyes.

I keep my lips together as I finish tying his tie. Then, I step back and let out a deep breath. My husband grabs his suitcase from the couch and runs his fingers through his hair, all the while keeping his gaze fixed on me.

"I didn't know," I reply, trying to hide the sadness in my voice, "I'm sorry, I-"

He sighs, "There's no need to apologize, love."

I take a deep breath, noticing that the stench still lingers. It's a mix of perfume and something rotten, an overpowering and nauseating smell that makes me feel sick. The putrid odor of decay has suffocated the sweet scent of flowers, creating a sickly-sweet aroma that clings to my clothes. The smell is thick and heavy, like a miasma of rot that makes me want to retch.

"My love, are you okay?" my husband asks, looking concerned, "You don't look-"

I nod and wrap my arms around my body, "I'm fine. I just got a bit overwhelmed."

Overwhelmed by the scent I will never forget, by the mix of beauty and terror, of life and death.

I look up and smile, "Have a nice day at work."

He seems uncertain, but then he moves closer to me and smiles, before kissing me deeply. "I'll be back tonight, okay?"

"Promise?" I ask.

"I promise. I love you," he smiles.

"I love you too," I reply.

And with that, he leaves.

Once the door shuts, the house is filled with an oppressive silence. It's as if all the noise in the world has been sucked away, leaving behind an eerie emptiness that feels like it's closing in on me.

It wasn’t always like this. It didn’t always feel like the quiet was a presence all on its own. I walk towards the basement, ignoring the deafening hush that seems to swallow everything in its path. Every footstep, every breath, and every rustle of my clothing is amplified, making me feel like I'm the only one left in a world devoid of life and noise.

Once I reach the basement, I notice the door is slightly ajar, the putrid stench even stronger as it wafts out from the darkness. I don’t hesitate to push it open and step inside. Then I close the door behind me, finally finding peace from the haunting silence.

The air is thick with the smell of rot, a never-ending symphony of decay that plays in my mind. A big smile makes it’s way to my face when I see him, lying on his bed, still as beautiful as ever.

I walk towards him slowly. Flowers and toys that once brought him joy surround the bed, untouched. I begin to wonder if he has gotten tired of them. Does he not like them anymore? I want to ask. I want to know. But he doesn’t respond when I speak to him anymore.

He looks different. His skin is pale and his eyes were hollow. He is a grotesque masterpiece of decay. His once-vibrant flesh is now mottled with green and black, dotted with puss-filled sores. A thick, cloying scent seeps from his body and maggots crawl over his flesh, feasting on the remains, their tiny bodies writhing in a disgusting dance.

I brush the cobwebs from his hair and look into his eyes. They were once bright and full of life, but now they are empty, sunken orbs that seem to stare into the void. His lips are pulled back in a final, silent scream, exposing his yellowed teeth in a twisted smile.

I dip my hand into my pocket and take out my phone. Then I call my husband. He picks up immediately.

“My love, are you okay?” he asks.

I nod, before realizing he can’t see me. Tears fill my eyes, and I bite my bottom lip to hold back from crying. "Yes, but I was just wondering if you could buy some new toys on your way back. Our son isn't playing with these ones, and I don't know what to do. I can't... I'm..."

"Calm down, breathe," my husband says softly. "I'll get the best ones I can find. He'll love them. I promise."

I wipe away my tears and sniff, "Okay, thank you."

"I'll text you when I get to work, okay?" he says.

"Okay, I have to go too," I murmur, mindlessly straightening my son's clothes. "I still smell like him. I'll go wash again."

[i-like-sparkly-things]

Right in front of you

A Halstead!sister

Jay held a strong grip on your upper arm as he led you out to the school hall. "What the hell was that Y/N? Are you happy now? God.... I can't believe you cheated!" he sneered, "EYES UP HERE Y/N!! "

"I'm sorry" you sighed, locking eyes with Jay, silently praying that he would let this go. It was only one time anyway. It wasn't a big deal.

But he let out a hollow laugh, "Thirty percent, Y/N, THIRTY PERCENT. You're going to have to do better than a half-ass apology. What exactly are you sorry for? Huh? For cheating? Or being caught?"

Requested : Yes by @study-coffee-chicago : They found out she cheated on a test in high school...and Jay's the one who has to pick her up.

Warnings : angry!Jay (lots of it), alcohol, swearing, anxiety attacks

Note : I am so so so sorry this so longg 😭 I ended up so far away from the actual request kayela please don't block mee 😭 butt I've learned alot in writing abt active and passive voices and using more imagery Yayy!! I'm so glad that yall are ok with my grammar thank uu🥺

MASTERLIST HERE

The piles of homework and flashcards you needed to memorize had no end in sight, and now that Will was taking nightshifts along with his usual double shifts, and intelligence was tracking down an underground drug cartel, you spent most days alone, allowing your mind to engulf you.

Every time you sat down to study, you felt a striking pain in your chest. In mere seconds the air was sucked out of your lungs and you found yourself panting, desperate to get oxygen back into your body.

You would be surrounded by books and worksheets and you could swear the walls of your room were closing in towards you, trapping you in a sea of incomplete work.

You failed to follow the schedules and to do lists you had made for yourself. Staring at them, hoping the essays would write themselves.

All you needed, was a break. A moment to relax from anything and everything.

So when your best friend mentioned that her brother used to drink a little before he appeared for an exam, your mind was quick to catch on.

Last night you had borrowed a little bit of beer from Jay's stash of alcohol and took a few sips of it as you studied.

The more you drank, the less bitter it became. It was a weird, new sensation, but it worked nonetheless.

Except now, you were sitting in the girls bathroom at school, ramaging through your notes, trying to recollect what you had learned yesterday.

You saw what you had underlined and highlighted— names in pink and important dates in yellow—but your mind came up blank.

Flipping the pages you saw people in wigs, and castles burning to the ground —None of which you recognized.

A wave of anxiety rippled through you unable to comprehend your next thought —you were going to fail.

Your head was throbbing as you ran a hand down face, massaging your temples trying to calm yourself down.

You took out your water bottle that you had filled with beer and swallowed a few gulps, hoping that it would help you think straight.

You groaned, feeling the sting of alcohol at the back of your throat, popping some mints into your mouth, you ran towards the exam hall.

***

Your foot bounced on the polished wood floors as sweat pooled on your forehead.

You thought you were careful —only taking a peek from your friends answer sheet when Mrs.Ling's back was facing you.

Everything would have worked out if it wasn't for that kid sitting behind you. In a split second your teacher turned around, when he dropped his pen, to see you peering over your partner's desk.

Now you were sitting in the principles office praying that Jay wouldn't be the one picking you up.

You could already imagine his anger at you for pulling him away from his case, only to find you cheated.

Unfortunately luck was not on your side today.

You dare not look at Jay as he entered the office, letting out a huff as he sat down. You could feel the rage emitting him, tension filling the room, as he burned holes looking at you.

"I'll get straight to the point" Your principal started.

"Please" Jay growled, struggling to contain himself. He couldn't believe what he was hearing, when he got the call saying that you had cheated on your midterms.

You and Will were alike,at least he thought so, both good at science and math but weak at geography and history. Nonetheless you continued to secure good grades for the most part.

"Y/n here, was caught cheating from a classmates answer sheet. Our teacher caught her red handed. I truly did not expect this from you. These midterms cost thirty percent of your grade..... "

Pretty soon his voice was muffled like he was getting farther and farther away from you. His figure swayed in front of you as you squinted your eyes to keep him in the center of your vision.

" You are suspended, Mrs halstead"

Your eyes widened , your body choosing the perfect time to bring out what little beer you had taken when you heard those words, letting the alcohol mix with the adrenaline.

"WHAT??!! " Damn, alcohol really bought out your courage as Jay stared at you in shock at your audacity.

"Y/n, your lucky I'm letting you retake the exam. That's only because you've had a clean record so far. I strongly suggest you start preparing early Ms. halstead" your principal said in a firm but monotone voice that left you speechless.

Jay held a strong grip on your upper arm as he led you out to the school hall. "What the hell was that Y/N? Are you happy now? God.... I can't believe you cheated!" he sneered, "EYES UP HERE Y/N!! "

Oh god. Every now and then, the ground would sway beneath you, tiles shifting in your vision. But you counted your steps, carefully putting one foot in front of the other, not wanting Jay to find out what else you had done........ until now.

You tilted your head, only to be met with your brother's piercing stare but little did he know, now it made it infinitely harder to concentrate on your walking.

"I'm sorry" you sighed, locking eyes with Jay, silently praying that he would let this go. It was only one time anyway. It wasn't a big deal.

But he let out a hollow laugh, "Thirty percent, Y/N, THIRTY PERCENT. You're going to have to do better than a half-ass apology. What exactly are you sorry for? Huh? For cheating? *Or being caught?*"

***

You rested your head on the seat as Jay entered the truck, flinching, when he slammed the door shut. Your pounding headache was getting worse by the minute, as your ears started to ring.

You blinked a few times squinting to focus on the road ahead of you but the fast-moving cars and the loud horns made you feel like your head was going to explode.

"Y/n," he addressed you, much calmer now.

You forced yourself to turn to your brother, who wore a confused expression.

But the moment he saw your deshelfed hair and your cracked lips, a wave of worry crashed over him. What the hell?

The truck came to a stop at a red light and Jay immediately scanned you over "Y/n?" he grabbed your chin, his jaw dropping, as he came face to face with reality.

"Are you drunk!!?" he barked , steam basically pouring out of his ears.

But your pleading eyes and empty silence gave him the answer he needed. "Are you kidding me??" he snarled as he slammed the steering wheel.

Oh God no. A blinding pain ripped through your head when Jay's palms made contact with the hard plastic. You winched turning your head away from your furious brother, letting out a whimper.

Jay's eyes widened at the sound, his heart breaking, realizing the pain you were in.

If he was going to be mad at you or at least punish you, you needed to be sober.

He stepped on the pedal as the light turned green taking a few breaths, trying to calm himself down.

With the vice lords reclaiming their territory and selling uncut fentanyl, bodies were dropping all over the city most of them being kids.

Kids..... your age.

Every kid at the morgue, just reminded him of you. He saw parents sobbing, begging for their kids to come back but Jay new better. They were never going to come home. Ever.

So he made it a priority to catch these ruthless creatures. He made it a priority over his sleep, over nine hours shifts and unknown to him, over spending time with you.

"Hey , hey" he whispered, not wanting to hurt you again, "We'll talk about this later ok? for now...... just..... it's ok..... I've got you" here reached out his hand, the other still on the steering wheel, to slowly rub your back as you tried to breath through the pain.

" I got you"

***

Jay wrapped a hand around you allowing you to hold onto him for support.

Silently, he deposited you on the couch, laying you down. He knew that he wasn't in any state to talk to you. He needed to clear his mind from his racing thoughts and rueful images of dying teenagers.

His phone rang, indicating that the district was awaiting him. "Here" he reluctantly shook your shoulders "Y/n, I need to go ok? Will will be here soon"

***

Almost half an hour had passed and you were waiting for Will to get out of the shower. You'd heard Jay explain everything to him over the phone.

You thought about how disappointed he would be.

Will —being the nerd he was— always helped you with your projects and gave you pop quizzes during breakfast, before your exams. He taught you how to organize flashcards just like he did in med school.

Even through your blurry thoughts, the image of Will's betrayed face and embarrassed eyes, knowing you cheated, lingered on your mind.

Your body was all over the place. Tiny noises echoing through your ear. Your muscles simultaneously aching and loose.

You were shivering as you tried to curl up into a ball. Your body trying to hold what little heat it had within itself.

But nothing stopped your tears.

You felt water drops make their way down your cheeks forming small splotches of water on the cushion you laid your head on.

And you didn't bother to wipe them away.

Will more or less was in the same state you were in. There was a multi-vehicle accident on the highway and victims were piling in the ED. He was running from one treatment room to the other, waiting to get back home and crash.

Will walked over to you with a huge glass of water and an advil, gently  nudging you to sit up.

Your head still pounded, your eyes zoning in and out of the figure in front of you "Y/n, here drink the whole glass and take this" Will soothed, placing the glass and the pill in your hand "I—I'm sorry" You whispered, distracting yourself from Will's eyes.

Will knew he should be angry. Just like Jay was but he couldn't bring himself to blaming you, not until he had the full story anyway.

You looked so petite on the enormous couch, your legs folded on top of each other, arms shaking as you drowned the glass of water along with the Advil.

Your red puffy eyes and tear strained cheeks,were a contrast from your usual self. or he thinks. He's been pretty busy lately, so he's not too sure. " We'll talk about it later. I'm not angry. I promise"

He assured and was about to head to bed himself when you grabbed his wrist.

If he wasn't angry at you then maybe— just maybe—he would help you.

"Stay" You pleaded , the word falling from your lips just as easily as it had, many, many times before.

And just like before, you were met with Will's soft brown eyes filled with sympathy, ready to help. Ready—to be by your side.

He's slowly nodded climbing onto the couch, next to you. He wrapped an arm around you and you nestled into him, laying your head on his chest.

You found some comfort as he embraced you, talking you under his arm and encompassing you in his warmth.

Holding on to him, you hoped that he would take your pain away, just like he did when you were little.

***

Will woke up to an uncomfortable feeling of something —or someone—   tugging at his shirt.

He slowly opened his eyes allowing them to adjust to the light as he felt another a tug at his side. He looked over to you, but your eyes were shut, brimming with tears, your arm laid across his chest.

You were holding on to Will , using him as a lifeline, grounding you from the pain.

You felt a hand squeezing your own, stopping you from gripping the fabric "Y/n?" You opened your eyes to look up at will who had tears of his own, staring at the state you were in "it's okay, I'm here, I'm right here"

He encircles you, tighter than before, whispering soothing assurances into your hair.

***

With Will's help, the pain slowly subsides, allowing you access to your thoughts again.

You step out of the shower, into the living room and your eyes widen seeing Jay and Will sitting at the kitchen counter.

You didn't even hear Jay come in, but right now taking in his hardened glare, you didn't dare ask.

You knew what was coming and you didn't fight. You couldn't.

"So apparently we're cheating on our midterms now, huh?" Jay's calm voice made shivers run down your spine, starting to take rapid breaths.

"And apparently, someone thinks it's ok to steal alcohol from my stash" He gritted, never breaking I contact with you. "Do you think that's how the world works Y/n? DO YOU? BECAUSE LAST TIME I CHECKED YOU'RE STILL A FUCKING TEENAGER!!" He spat, his thoughts fuming towards your trembling body.

It was every dieing body flashing before his eyes, as the past months' agony slipped off his tongue.

"Jay" Will's voice was stern, giving a knowing look towards his younger brother and didn't bother to give Jay time to argue with him.

"Y/n, we need to know what's going on"

"With school, with tests with....... everything" he stated giving you a solemn look meaning every word he said, promising himself that he would do whatever it takes to figure out what had been going on.

You sucked in a breath weighing all your options. You didn't want them to think that you needed a babysitter or  that you couldn't take care of yourself.

You knew that they had their own problems to worry about but you couldn't take it anymore.

You hated it.

The feeling of your lungs collapsing, struggling to find air for your body, your stress skyrocketing anytime you sat down to study, never getting any thing done.

All day long you would constantly tell yourself to do your work. Every spare second is spent in making a list of things you want to do but when it was time to actually do those things, your mind wandered and emptied.

You took another deep breath, looking up from your feet, your eyes meeting your brothers.

You spilled the past months events from how alone you were all the time and not being able to concentrate to how you ended up drunk at school and cheating on your midterms.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as you your hands trembled. You stood crying in the middle of the room until you felt a pair of arms around you.

Will placed his hand at the nape of your neck as he stroked your back with the other "Breathe Y/n, just Breathe" He slowly pulled away leading you to the couch.

God, how he wished he could turn back time. Then he'd been more vigilant to notice the changes that had come over you.

You felt the couch dip on both sides but you intently studied your fingers, fumbling with the hem of your shirt and wiped the tears off your face. They were mad. No, they were furious. You knew it.

But for some reason, they weren't showing it. Maybe they were waiting-

"We're not mad"

You without your head around to look at Jay, furrowing your eyebrows in disbelief. Jay? Not mad? HA.

"but I am disappointed though, but that's only because you didn't tell us......

but stealing alcohol was bad too" he added, earning him a glare from Will.

"Y/n, what Jay means is— we could've helped with school . Homework . Tests . Anything, you name it. We will help" he assured, "But how do we know you need help, if you don't tell us?"

You sighed, taking in the weird turn of events that had happened before you. You had wasted all this time, trying to figure out all your problems out, when the answer was right in front of you.

A mountain of guilt now sat on Jay's shoulders, weighing down on him, pushing him deeper into a wormhole of 'if's'.

Maybe if he'd just been a little more careful, this wouldn't have happened.

Maybe if he'd stop and listen to you once in a while, this wouldn't have happened.

While trying to save kids out on the street, he forgot to care for the kid at home. You were his sister, and yet, here you are in front of him, barely keeping yourself together.

But that would change. Right here. *Right now.*

"Y/n," Jay started "If you would have told us how alone and stressed you were feeling.....I would've taken some time off... Maybe we'd watch a movie or something. All you had to do was ask...... And we'll get you the help you need, y/n. You good with that?" he questioned, his anger and frustration dissipating.

You saw your brother, the workaholic detective, wanting to put his job aside, for you .

You were more important to him, than his job—You realized.

" Yea... Yeah, I am"

Will stood up and got another advil with another glass of water. "and maybe you wouldn't end up drunk and cheating on your test" he smirked, crouching in front of you.

"God, I didn't think it would hurt this bad. I am never drinking again!" you smiled , as you drowned the pill.

"See now that's what I like to hear!!" Jay exclaimed, wrapping his arms around you, squeezing you into his chest. You squirmed, trying to get out of his grip, laughing, when you were joined by Will.

You know what? Maybe, things are going to be okay? Ya know?

__________________________

Read more of my fics here!!

Tagging : @girlandthemoon @herecomesthewriterwitch @megaliciab @meyocoko @alkadri-layal

[itswildwinters]

✰ here’s a masterpost with all my fics (+ their fic post) that you can find on my ao3! This post will be regularly updated, from earliest to oldest fic!

✰ carpe diem — (E • 2,9k)

The world has succumbed but two lovers find solace in an abandoned grocery store.

✰ In Your Scent I Thrive — (E • 33,3k)

There are very few things on earth that makes sense to Harry. Louis is not one of them.

OR; Harry’s particular condition has made it impossible for him to enjoy people’s scent, until he meets Louis.

✰ Memory of a Dream — (E • 64,7K)

Harry hums. “Why else do you think I brought you here? It's our places now," the alpha smiles, gentle. "Have you always lived with your godmothers?”

He nods, gazing at the leaves as the breeze comes to ruffle them. “As long as I can remember. And if you’re wondering what happened to my parents, I don’t really know. Apparently they died when I was still a baby.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry tentatively reaches over to put his arm around him; he doesn’t protest. Instead, he snuggles closer and closes his eyes.

There seems to be a barrier between them, or some kind of deep gulf that can’t be crossed. He feels it right now even though he’s never been so close to Harry before. Harry’s entire body is kissing his curves, in a place remote from everything; and yet… and yet he can’t connect with Harry. Maybe it is for the best — getting attached to somebody he can’t have sounds like torture. At one point, Harry moves so that he is sitting right behind Louis, allowing for the omega to lean against the alpha’s chest; it feels good, he feels safe. He is succumbing to illusions; he will get hurt.

Somewhere behind them, a raven croaks.

-

OR; a Sleeping Beauty AU.

✰ Hamartia — (E • 67k)

“Your scent lingering on my pillow… oh Honey, If only you knew that the moment I dread most every time you leave… Is when it fades.”

Six years is a long time for Louis to mend his heart back and erase every lingering, stubborn memory of his ex-lover, Harry Styles. But when news of the war being over spreads across the world like wildfire, and he stumbles upon the alpha he vowed himself to never see ever again, he realises that not even a lifetime will be enough for him to pick up the scattered, broken parts of his soul. He's far from expecting the alpha he loved to be struggling in the same way.

All the ointments in the world might never soothe the pain out, but it doesn't take long for them both to come to the conclusion that, maybe, the only medicine to their heartbreaks are what caused them in the first place.

✰ dirty laundry looks good on you — (E • 50k)

When Louis Tomlinson finds his clothes lying in a sad soapy mess on top of the washing machine in which they are supposed to be, he acts upon his anger and retaliates. What he doesn’t expect is having to deal with a six-feet tall, curly-haired and dimpled man in return, who seems to arouse confusing feelings within him and to make his life take an unexpected turn for the better (or worse?).

OR; the utility room is a great place to fall in love.

✰ a taste of freedom and sweetened passion — (M • 74,7k) for @falsegoodnight

“Are you mad?” he explodes, throwing his hands up, groaning. “I was so, so close to reaching my goal, and your stupid, stalking ass had to creep up on me, hm?”

Harry is trying to keep his laughter in, walking closer to him, eyes soft. He doesn’t like the way those eyes make him feel, an odd, dangerous mix of nervous and flustered, so he bends down to pick up the books, raising an eyebrow when Harry growls in protest.

“I wanted to pick them up for you,” the alpha pouts, and Louis glares at him, getting into position and lowering the pile of yellowed pages over the top of his head.

“I’m a functional human being, thank you very much,” he grits out as he begins to walk and mentally count the amount of steps he takes. One, two, three, for heaven’s sake Harry fuck off!, four, five. He doesn’t let himself be distracted as the alpha walks along with him despite the slow pace, green eyes focused on him in a way that would, in any other cases, compelled him to throw a book in the alpha’s face.

He doesn’t know why he doesn’t do it and certainly doesn’t want to think about the reason, whatever it might be.

✰ in a sea of mist — (E • 126,7k)

A Greek Mythology/Camp Half-Blood AU where Harry is lost, the road to peace is a wretched one, and somehow, through a mist of confusion and regrets, Louis seems to be the only thing that makes sense and everything Harry needs.

✰ those who from the Pit of Hell, roam to seek their prey on earth — (E • 17,6k)

1889. Louis Tomlinson is a student at the prestigious Harrow School for Boys, nurturing his passion for forensic medicine under the care of a particularly mysterious and dark teacher, Harry Styles, who has set his main focus on a series of gruesome murders, all of them reflecting the year 1888, when Jack the Ripper went rampant in the poor streets of Whitechapel.

✰ ruby eyes and tainted vices — (E • 666) 

Harry goes to bed alone, but wakes up to a body next to his.

✰ the hope that warbles in my fluttering breast — (M • 10k)

"I don't feel good," Louis admitted, eyes watering. Harry rounded the table to sit next to Louis, worry eating at his guts.

"It's alright, we've got everything we need. We will be fine."

But Louis shook his head.

"No, it's not that. I don't feel well."

Harry bit his bottom lip, hard. "The babies?"

"No, they're not moving, I just... I don't know, something is wrong. I think I need to lay down, alright?"

The winter growls loud and mean outside as Harry Styles comes home to his precious Louis.

✰ you contain in your eyes the sunset and the dawn — (M • 38,1k)

Louis moaned prettily as he grabbed one of the hybrid's thighs and inched it up, his hand big enough to cover almost the entire of it. When he looked into Louis' eyes, they were practically just black, a pool of lust and tension rendering the baby blue of his eyes intense and rich. And they kept kissing until their lips tickled, until they were sure they would bruise and turn a deep burgundy colour.

"How was I supposed to know?" Harry mumbled in the crook of Louis' neck, letting his tongue and teeth play with the skin there.

"Couldn't you just talk to me?" was Louis' answer, and Harry thought.

He thought of how much time they had wasted because of him.

Harry Styles was to spend six months at AT&T Inc. of all telecommunications companies in the world, also known as the largest one in its field. This was the biggest deal of his life; it will both improve his expertise in the domain and maybe secure the job of his dreams. There was only one problem standing in the way, and it came in the form of a stunning, irresistible and intimidating cat hybrid of the name Louis Tomlinson. In other words, his boss.

[hesther-mcg]

wishful thinking

request: Anonymous said:Hi! I saw your mai x reader and it was amazinf!! so could I request a Mai x waterbender!reader hc/ one shot (whichever you wanna do!!) The way you write her is amazing!!☺️

pairing: mai x waterbender!reader

warnings: idk how to feel abt this :/// if it’s not what u were wanting i’m sorry i can always do another part 

a/n: super long! maybe not good, who knows! i tried my best, but maybe this could be continued? waterbender!reader goes to the boiling rock prison break party?? some more pining, maybe some words exchanged between reader and mai?? 

creds to owner, i couldn't find them :(

“Aang and Sokka, I wish you a good journey,” Earth King Kui bid farewell. “Ba Sing Se owes you it’s thanks, and we look forward to your safe return.” 

Your group of friends bowed to him, small smiles on all of your faces. You had finally managed to get to him and tell him about the war, and expose Long Feng, and now each of you had specific tasks to complete. It made you slightly uncomfortable to split up, but things were never easy in times of war. 

You had decided to stay behind in the city with Katara so she wouldn’t be alone. Sokka deserved to see his father, so she had so kindly opted out of the journey, and upon realizing you had no business at the Eastern Temple with Aang you chose to stay with her. 

“Your Majesty,” a guard came up, alerting everyone. “There are three female warriors here to see you. They’re from the island of Kyoshi.” 

“That’s Suki!” Sokka yelled as he fell to the ground from Appa’s side. He groaned dramatically as he squirmed around, and you reached a hand out to help him. 

“You know these warriors?” The Earth King questioned, taking a few steps forward. 

“Oh yeah,” Sokka replied as he stood up straight. “The Kyoshi Warriors are a skilled group of fighters. Trustworthy, too.” He smiled. “They’re good friends of ours.”

The Earth King nodded his head. “Then we shall welcome them as honored guests.”

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

The sun was high in they sky as the Kyoshi Warriors made their way down the path before them, lined with Earth Kingdom guards on either side. The three girls, in matching makeup and uniform, wore stoic expressions as they inched closer to the King. 

“In our hour of need, it is with the highest honor that I welcome our esteemed allies,” he extended his hands, and the girls kneeled before him, resting their painted foreheads against their hands. “The Kyoshi Warriors.” 

Slowly, they rose back up, revealing their faces to the very man they were there to overthrow. “We are the Earth King’s humble servants,” the girl in front mused, eyes sharp. 

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

You sighed. You knew that this was what you’d signed up for when you stayed behind with Katara, but that didn’t mean you enjoyed the things you had to do. You sat on the ground beside your friend, Momo resting on your shoulder, and a large map of the four nations separated the both you from the row of Generals you were speaking with. They were so far away you couldn't even make out their features, and you were sure that the both of you looked like two specks of blue rather than kids. 

“General Fong’s base will serve as the launching point for the attack. In exactly two months, the Army and Navy will invade the Fire Nation on The Day of Black Sun,” he moved his arms about, and the clay pieces on the map that represented Earth King forces moved. They glided towards the Fire Nation Capital, and Momo flew from your shoulder and landed with a small crash, and all the pieces fell over. 

“Or we could send in Momo to do some damage,” Katara joked with a laughed as the lemur moved around and knocked more things over. “Cause the...” when she was met with a stern silence, you nudged her with your elbow. “Sorry,” she quietened down and you rubbed her arm a few times.

General How closed his fist and all the pieces erected themselves, causing Momo to jump with a screech and retreat to the comfort of your shoulder. “All we need is the Earth King’s seal in order to execute the plan,” he placed down a scroll, and it glided towards the pair of you on a block of stone. 

Katara picked up the scroll as you both rose up from the ground. “We’ll get these scrolls to him right away. Thank you, General How.” You bowed and turned away from the men, and together you and Katara took off down the corridor. 

The walk through the Upper Ring was nice, Ba Sing Se truly was a beautiful place. It was nothing like what you and Katara were used to, which was snow, ice, and water. The North and the South had their differences but one thing rang true for both places; it was cold and wet and blue, but it was home. The city was different, hues of green and yellow filling the streets, gold trinkets lining the windows of some shops, expensive clothes on racks in others. 

But the nice tea shop that caught your eye was probably the nicest thing you’d seen. It was beautiful and shiny, and evidently very popular. “Hey, Katara, let’s get some tea!” You pointed towards the building. “Come on, it’ll be nice,” you smiled and batted your eyelashes, giving her your best pleading expression. 

“Hmm, alright,” she agreed. “What do you say, Momo? A cup of tea before we get back to the  Earth King?” She asked the lemur on your shoulder. He chattered in response, looking between the both of you with his large eyes. It was all you needed to start heading towards the shop. 

You were greeted at the entrance after trekking up the steps. “Table for three, please.” Katara spoke to the pretty woman while your eyes scanned the surrounding area. 

“Uncle!” A familiar voice shouted. “I need two jasmine, one green, and one lychee.” None other than Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation, the very boy who’d been hunting you and your friends for so long, wore a uniform and flitted around the shop. You nudged the girl beside you, and she gasped. 

“I’m brewing as fast as I can,” the old man you recognized as Zuko’s uncle assured with a small smile, standing in the kitchen area of the tea shop. It was as if time had stopped, and everything in the world went out of whack. Nothing made sense, this didn’t make sense. 

Nothing needed to be said, no look needed to be shared; you and Katara had the same thought in mind. 

We need to tell the Earth King. 

The both of you bolted down the stairs and ran away, flashes of blue heading towards to King. You were panting by the time you got there, but the relief of seeing Suki resting on the ground in front of the throne, her gold headband and oil makeup familiar and comforting, was sweet. 

“Thank goodness you’re here, Suki,” Katara rushed. “Something terrible is going on. The Fire Nation has infiltrated the city. I just saw Prince Zuko and his uncle!” 

Suki’s eyes widened a fraction before a sly grin grew on her lips. It was then you realized that this wasn’t your friend, and the two girls resting behind her weren’t Kyoshi Warriors either. You don’t know why it had taken you so long to figure out, or why Katara still hadn’t figured it out herself. This girl was acting nothing like Suki, and it was so painfully obvious now. 

“We have to tell the Earth King right away!” Katara urged, and your eyes cut to her. Something was wrong, and when the girl wearing your friend’s headband, and your friend’s uniform stood up, the female waterbender finally figured it out. 

“Oh don’t worry.” The mystery girl assured, slowly stepping forward into the light, and her golden eyes shined. “I’ll be sure to let him know.”

Momo screeched and flew from your shoulder, fleeing to who knows where; but you didn’t mind, he was safer elsewhere. Suddenly, the Chi blocker you’d fought on several occasions leapt forward, a flurry of flips and handstands and acrobatics. Her hand landed on Katara’s shoulder as she flew over her, and the your friend dropped to the floor. The water she had pulled from her pouch sloshed to the ground, and you pulled it up and combined it with your own water. 

Before you could do anything, however, the girl grabbed you in the same spot she ahd grabbed your friend, and she pulled you backwards. You lost the sensation in your limbs, and you dropped and landed in a puddle of water. 

“So, Zu Zu’s in the city, too.” Azula mused, walking closer to the both of you. You could only see above you, and the girl with the knives you’d been thinking about since Omashu entered your line of sight. The edges were blurry, and steadily growing more fuzzy, but you’d recognize her any day-- even with the makeup. 

“I think it’s time for a family reunion.” 

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

“How’d you learn that?” You asked, and the girl beside you chuckled. You were sitting so close together that your’re arms brushed every so often. 

“I was bored in my room, so I taught myself a trick,” she shrugged, throwing another knife at the wall. It stuck an inch away from the one she’d thrown just before, not any higher or lower. 

“Well, you’re really good,” you complimented, and your cheeks reddened. “You think you could teach me?”

She looked at you, her dark hair shining in the light. She grinned at you, small but sweet nonetheless. “Sure,” she drawled. “Someday.” 

You couldn’t take your eyes off of her. She was so pretty, and she looked so cool and collected. She was a complete mystery, one you wanted so desperately to solve. 

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

That was wishful thinking. 

You wouldn’t get to see her that close, or brush your arm against hers, or have her smile at you. She was on Azula’s side, and you were on Aang’s. It was as simple as that. None of the other factors needed to be mentioned; like how you didn’t know her name, or her age, or how she got mixed up in the schemes of the Royal family. 

You wouldn’t get to learn how to throw knives, or just what to do to make the Fire Nation girl smile like she did whenever you dreamt of her. That’s all you would ever have, dreams and wishful thinking. 

[outerbankslut]

Sorry... Pope Heyward

Summary • After a fight between the Kooks and the Pogues you go to your friends to apologise but Pope’s not having it.

Warnings • Swearing? Maybe but I can’t remember and I cba to go back through. Mentions of violence (in the fight). If there’s anything else let me know :) JJ smoking as usual.

Word Count • 1.7k (Imagine)

Masterlist

(GIF isn’t mine, let me know if it’s yours)

    THE NOISES OF the cars engine knocked you out of your daze as you drove down the paved, sweltering streets of outer banks. The houses you passed a second ago were filled with perfectly trimmed bushes, the building decked in marble and stone with backyards for miles and a pool to finish it off. Whereas the houses you passed now were smaller and wooden, looking fragile almost. Lots of the yards were messier and lazier but they didn't have personal gardeners or the time nor money to do it themselves generally. It made your heart clench as you thought about how just a mile back you were living luxuriously while people over here slaved away to earn everything they owned. They weren't handed it like you were.

You were on your way to the cut to see your friends. But not for a casual hangout. You needed to see if they were okay. After the events of the night before you couldn't be sure what happened after you left.

Rafe has been involved in a fight between all the Pogues including you. No surprise there. He’d been the instigator of it all. It had broken out just you were all planning to leave and then the Cameron boy and the rest of his country club friends came over and joined in somehow finding fun in hitting and punching people due to the entitlement blinding their eyes from the truth that they were the same. Well maybe not personality wise in any way at all. But you were all human beings and yet you were pitted against each other from the day you were born. Only some succumbed to the amounting pressure of their kook or pogue parents to stay away from the other side others realised how petty and stupid it was.

It was always like a scene from west side story when the two groups were mixed and it never ended well. It usually left you to pick up the pieces of their messes. Or any mess of your brothers really. It had always been you. You taking responsibility for anything he did. Whilst he would go disappear and sniff a few lines before making his triumphant return you would be mending what he broke or taking the blame. Being younger than him didn't help with him manipulating you as a child. Rafe broke a vase and suddenly you broke the vase. Rafe stole money from dad since he blew his allowance on coke and alcohol and instead you stole the money. It had always been that way and by now you were used to being left in the wake of your brothers tyranny.

You always felt responsible no matter what happened. The events of last night where stuck in your mind like super glue and the guilt was filling up your lungs. It wasn't your fault. But at the same time it was. You didn't stop your brother, you let your friends get hurt by him. And they must hate you. Probably wish you'd never been let into their group.

The tires of your car screeched to a halt beside the Twinkie which occupied the space outside of the chateau. It was eerily quiet until you stepped out onto the grassy and muddy ground and heard muffled laughter from inside the wooden walls of the small fish shack. You could smell the after effects of a joint wafting through the air. No doubt it was JJ.

Once you entered the chateau the small creak of the screen door was enough to gain the attention of all the Pogues who glanced up at your presence. Only then did you see what was leftover from the fight last night. Kie looked at you with a small smile but you could see the light grazing on her cheeks and her hands that held the wooden neck of a ukulele. But yet she still seemed happy to see you. And then JJ who sent you a lazy smile as he inhaled more of the joint between his bruised knuckled fingers and the smoke covered his purple and yellow and green painted face but only for a second. Then John B who held a beer in his hands but you could see the blood surrounding his split lip and small cut above his black eye.

None noticed your small frown or look of quilt swarming you except from Pope who stared intensely and lingered on the downturning of your lips as you turned and caught his gaze. You could see the small cut beneath his chin and no doubt just like the John B and JJ he accumulated bruises on his stomach or arms. But he was wearing his shirt buttoned up whereas JJ laid shirtless and John B stood with his shirt open.

It hurt you the most seeing Pope. The multiple bruises and cuts adorning his normally smooth and unharmed skin. They were because of you. When Pope moved in front of you stopping you from receiving the backhand Rafe sent your way as you berated him to stop. He was the reason you weren't hurt. And you were the reason he was hurt.

Pope looked at you oddly as you just stood there letting out a sigh.

"Y/N?" He asked, his eyebrows furrowing in question. When you didn't answer again he stood up and walked over to you where you stood with your hands threaded together and rubbing in anticipation. "What's wrong?"

"I-I wanted to apologise to you last night."

The rest of the Pogues had turned their attention to you, JJ even stopped smoking for a second to listen. Your eyes were down trained on the wooden flooring as you spoke. Popes furrowed brows deepened as he looked at you slightly bewildered that you thought you needed to apologise.

"I'm sorry he hurt you guys. It was all my fault and I should have stopped him but I didn't." You let out a dry chuckle. "All of you got hurt and yet I'm perfectly fine." You shook you head and sighed. "But I'm really sorry."

Despite the nice welcoming from your friends you still had the deep rooted fear they would hate you after last night but the looks on their faces held sadness or confusion rather than anger or disdain.

Pope had seen you do this before with the group. Whether it be a Pogue and Kook fight or just a small thing when he'd been around your house, like accepting responsibility when Rafe forgot to pick Wheezie up from her ballet class or the time when you'd apologised profusely for Rafes mistreatment of JJ at his job at the country club. But most of those times he'd believed it to be a small courtesy of just being related to the problem or saying it like when you say you're sorry for someone's loss but it wasn’t like that with you. At least not this time.

You were apprehensive to look up to meet his but when you did you saw the boy let out a small scoff and you were ready for him to yell at you to leave and never come back.

"God! Stop apologising for other people! You're not the shitty one!" The Heyward boy exclaimed blowing a fuse which surprised everyone when Pope was normally the calm and collected one. Not all the time. But most.

And he wasn’t angry towards you but toward Rafe and even the smallest notion that what he did laid on your shoulders. You simply blinked in his direction not sure what to say at his outburst.

"Pope—" You started saying before you were cut off by the boy throwing his hands in the air.

"No I can't take it any longer. I can't watch you blame yourself and apologise for the punches Rafe throws or the shitty things he does. He's a bad person and you are not him. I don't give a damn if he's your brother, okay? Y/N you've never done anything wrong in your life and yet you keep apologising for everything he does. It's not your fault. I'll tell you a million—scratch that a billion times if I have to."

And once again you blinked but this time blinking away the glossy liquid in your eyes hoping to clear your vision. It was a different feeling having someone tell you it wasn't your fault for once. Popes eyes stared passionately towards you as you held his stare. You felt comforted just the the deep ebony colours of his eyes that focused on you.

"I still left you guys though after. I didn't stay and help." You told them and Kiara stood quickly, abandoning the instrument on the couch and placing a hand on your arm. You felt yourself sniffling. Pope moved his hand as well but lightly placed it in your own moving his fingers over your palm in circles soothingly. Letting you know he was there. Pope and you had definitely always been the closest in the group. If you ever needed someone Pope was always there. Whether it was someone to cry on or rant to, he was always there. And he definitely cared a lot about you as you did him.

"Hey, Y/N. You still tried to help us. That’s what counts. And we get it was overwhelming. We don't have to deal with psycho brothers. No offence." Kie spoke softly and you chuckled lightly at her comment through small tears that you were quick to wipe away.

"Yeah, Rafe is his own person and technically an adult he can take responsibility for his own shit." JJ spoke as he stood from his space on the couch joined by John B behind him.

"I still don't understand how the two of you are even related."

You shrugged a small smile growing on your lips that Pope noticed. "Me and Sarah both wonder that. A lot."

They all let out small laughs before Pope pulled you in for a hug and you nestled your head into his shoulder at his warm and enticing hold. He smelt of musk with small hints of aftershave and salt water. But most of all he smelt of home. Somewhere that would always be inviting and your one true solace from the world.

Note • Got my writing mojo back, kinda. And I used a prompt for this which helped a lot as well maybe too much. But uh so funny story I said it could make a cute blurb and one thing leads to another and I’ve written 1.7k words oopsies. I rambled too much and it’s trash and it’s also 2am so forgive me. But I need help I write too much unnecessary details in my fics and it makes it so long and probably boring. Anyway it’s✨trash✨but I hope maybe you enjoyed.

Join My Tag List Here • @starlightstarkey @rafecameron @starksweasleymain @jjsredhat @scandalousfemale @sguymon21 @bricksatanakinswindow @futuretaxcheat @wannabeslut @ad-infinitums @outrebanx @pit-zuh @pankowrudeth @jiaraendgame @outerbanksbro @copper-boom @alternativehp @brie-gr3y

[hyunjin-bun]

The  Good Mistake {Bokuto x Akaashi and Kuroo x Kenma}

synopsis: Where Akaashi and Bokuto have to come to terms with how they feel and Kuroo and Kenma have to discover their feelings.

pairings: Bokuto x Akaashi and Kuroo x Kenma

genre: FLUFF! (or at least trying to be) crack (but like it wasn’t supposed to be that’s just what happened) mutual pining.

warnings: swearing that’s it i guess?

note: CHAPTER 3, Its long, its punny and I’m sorry😄 i couldn't stop laughing while writing this it just killed me. Bokuto seems like the kind of person who likes puns and is also a very quick thinker so this is what came out of that thought process. 🤷‍♀️ Also just to put it out there, these puns came from a video from a youtube channel called The Pun Guys (I’m Not smart enough to make up puns myself). If you’d like to be tagged just send me an ask (or a message if you feel to awkward with asks cos same👀💛)

Store Puns

The first thing Akaashi noticed when he woke up was a very loud alarm tone, the second thing was an arm curled around his abdomen. He looked to the side and was greeted by Bokuto’s face right next to his own. Bokuto’s eyes started opening slowly as he took in the harsh light from the sun’s rays that entered the room. They shot open when he realised the position he was in. He quickly untangled himself from Akaashi, “I’m so sorry.” Bokuto sputtered out an apology. “S’okay, it’s not the first time that’s happened,” Akaashi said.  

Bokuto had the habit of holding onto whatever he was sleeping next to and this time it just happened to be Akaashi. It happened when they were younger too but this time it felt different with Akaashi knowing full well what his feelings were. However, Akaashi did not know how this made Bokuto feel.  

Bokuto had only recently started to come to terms with his feelings. He liked Akaashi and he always has, since he met him when they were kids but he started to realise his feelings for him were stronger than those of a friend, they were more. More intense, more heavy, and were growing harder to keep under wraps.  

He was too scared to talk to Akaashi about it because he valued his friendship with him and didn’t think that Akaashi would ever feel the same way. He’s told Kuroo all about this and he’s told him to do something, take the first step and confess but whenever he tried he got freaked out and pulled away.  

Waking up with Akaashi next to him felt so right but he didn’t want to make Akaashi uncomfortable even though it had happened multiple times before. Akaashi looked more surprised than usual which is why Bokuto reacted the way he did.  

Akaashi cleared his throat, “So, um, when do you want to leave?” he asked as he stood up and stretched. Bokuto looked at him with a confused expression, “Huh what?” Akaashi raised an eyebrow at him, “To the store, Bo,” he said, seeming annoyed. Bokuto’s mouth formed a perfect ‘o’ as he remembered their conversation by the fridge. “Right yeah, we can leave whenever you’re ready, and we can take my car,” he replied with a yawn stretching his arms.  

Akaashi went to his room to get dressed leaving Bokuto to do the same.  

Even though the sun was shining it seemed like it was going to be a pretty cold day so he opted for a yellow hoodie and black sweatpants. He brushed his hair but didn’t do anything else, it was too much effort, and he was also starting to like having a fringe.  

He left his room and waited for Akaashi who also sensed the weather and was wearing a forest green hoodie and black jeans. “Should we tell Kuroo and Kenma we’re going to the shop?” Bokuto asked as he grabbed his keys. “Mmn, I told Kenma when I went to get dressed,” he said as he slid his hands into his pockets. Bokuto nodded and opened the front door, “Cool let’s head out then.”

It was cold and to make it worse it was windy, so they got in the car as quick as possible. Bokuto started the car but let it run a little bit to warm up so he could put on the heater.  

It was still quite early in the morning so not a lot of people were around, just the people who wanted to get shopping done before the rush of the weekend. Akaashi took out the list and grabbed a shopping cart, only a small one though, he wasn’t planning on getting much. Bokuto seemed to be getting hyped about something and a little perk became prominent in his stride.

Akaashi side-eyed him as they walked into the store, “What are you so excited about Bo?” Bokuto just shook his head a smiled but kept on walking, leaving Akaashi hopelessly confused. Going towards the milk aisle, they passed a stand with pretzels on it. Bokuto picked up the packet and showed it to Akaashi and said “Jake Baked? Definitely” Akaashi shook his head, they were not in need for pretzels “Akaaashiii,” Bokuto whined quite loudly “What Bo?” he responded looking too serious for his own good. Bokuto just pouted at him “You missed the pun. Jake looks baked right?” he said as he pointed towards the cartoon on the bag. Jake did indeed look baked but Akaashi just smirked and told him to put the pretzels down.  

They got the milk and some cheese since they were next to each other. Akaashi saw pasta on the list so he went down that aisle and he heard Bokuto gasp quietly behind him he turned around to find Bokuto with a box of Shirriff piecrust mix in his hand. “Pie shot the shirriff” he sang with a smile on his face. Akaashi got this one and just snickered at him but continued to walk but with a smile on his face. He got some linguine and Farfalle, Bokuto liked those specifically because they were shaped like bows.

They needed something sweet in the house constantly and since Akaashi liked baking, he decided to get muffin and brownie mix sachets. Akaashi was expecting something to stick out at Bokuto and he was excited about it. Bokuto could make a pun out of anything. As they were deciding on what to get Bokuto picked up a box of fudge brownies, “After a long day of tanning I get brown knees” this sent them both into a fit of laughter. Once they recovered, Bokuto put the brownie mix into the cart. “See going to the store can be fun even as an adult Akaashi.” Akaashi just shook his head again and smiled.

Akaashi needed some soap and shampoo but as they were looking at all the brands Bokuto picked up a bar of soap, “Yo Akaashi, Yardley call me anymore,” He said with a bad British accent. Akaashi burst out laughing, he hadn’t laughed like this in a while and it started to force out all the anxiety he had in his system that had been there since he woke up with Bokuto wrapped around him.  

It got to the point where they just wanted to look for puns so Bokuto ran off and came back with a nerf ball. He then threw it at Akaashi, “Hey that’s anerf” Akaashi deadpanned. Bokuto just stood there surprised “Oh my god you, just made a pun!” he burst out laughing, clutching on to Akaashi’s sleeve. Akaashi let out a small huff with a smile.

They needed some sauce for the pasta they had and still recovering from all the previous puns Bokuto picked up a box of fondue sauce. “Hey Akaashi, I’m fond-a-ue,” he said with an innocent smile then suddenly realising what he had just said. Akaashi, not realising he was making a pun, turned around blushing. He huffed out a puff of air, “Wait what?” Bokuto just still trying to understand what had just come out of his mouth looked up at Akaashi and spoke softly “I’m fond-a-ue, holy crap, Akaashi, I like you.”  

Akaashi felt like he was short-circuiting like a computer when you pour water on it, but the water was just Bokuto’s words making their way to his brain and his heart. “W-what, Bo, seriously?” he stammered as he felt his face heat up. Bokuto was awkwardly rubbing the back of his head “Um, well yes, for a while now. I’ve been meaning to tell you but I get scared and stop myself. I guess I thought delivering my feelings through a pun would soften the blow. It's okay if you don’t feel the same way, I just had to let it out because it’s been crushing me for so long an I-“ Akaashi put his finger on Bokuto’s mouth to shut him up “I like you too Bo.” He said stepping closer to the other, letting his hand fall.  

Bokuto’s face was priceless and Akaashi was so happy he was making it because of him. Bokuto, quick to recover from that, looked around and noticed they were the only ones in the aisle. “Can I kiss you?” he asked almost timidly

Akaashi breathed out. It got really hot in the small space between him and Bokuto, “Right now?” he asked. Bokuto rolled his eyes, suddenly gaining confidence after seeing Akaashi’s eyes cloud over “Yes Akaashi right now.” Akaashi nodded and so Bokuto took the last step to clear the space between them. His lips ghosted Akaashi’s, trying to see if he would stop him but he never did. He placed one hand on Akaashi’s waist and another under his jaw; he pressed his lips to Akaashi’s and nearly imploded inside when he kissed back. Akaashi curled his hand into Bokuto’s soft hair, tugging slightly.

It was as romantic as it could be having your first kiss in your local store. It worked well enough though. Akaashi was the first to pull away reluctantly but he didn’t want to make someone randomly walk down the aisle feel awkward. Bokuto looked at him hesitantly, “You really like me back” he asked. “Yes and I’ve also been too scared to say anything,” he whispered as he looked down. Bokuto caught his chin and set his face level with his own. “I think we should just be straightforward with each other next time huh?” he said with a smirk. He kissed Akaashi’s forehead and grabbed the cart, causing Akaashi to blush.  

Bokuto thought he looked so soft at that moment and he couldn’t help but hold out his hand for Akaashi to take, which he did. So together they left after buying the food and making more cheesy puns over the camembert they decided to get for Kenma since it was his favourite.

Akaashi finally felt at peace about his decision to move in with Bokuto. (And Kuroo and Kenma) whatever he was with Bokuto now and it felt like nothing mattered anymore.

(f in the chat for the poor, most likely sleep-deprived teller who had to watch this all go down.)

Tagging: @gabbywubby  @shou-kunn @currentconcern @super-noya @thequeenofpotatoeunicornss @pudding-head-kenma @thirsthourdemon

[harryandmeghansussex]

Day 18 of @defendingtheduchesses 's Meghan memories challenge.

Meghan's writing has always been one of my favourite strengths of hers. And I thought I would share one for day 18, so I picked this important one.

'What are you?' A question I get asked every week of my life, often every day. 'Well,' I say, as I begin the verbal dance I know all too well. 'I'm an actress, a writer, the Editor-in-Chief of my lifestyle brand The Tig, a pretty good cook and a firm believer in handwritten notes.' A mouthful, yes, but one that I feel paints a pretty solid picture of who I am. But here's what happens: they smile and nod politely, maybe even chuckle, before getting to their point, 'Right, but what are you? Where are your parents from?' I knew it was coming, I always do. While I could say Pennsylvania and Ohio, and continue this proverbial two-step, I instead give them what they're after: 'My dad is Caucasian and my mom is African American. I'm half black and half white.

To describe something as being black and white means it is clearly defined. Yet when your ethnicity is black and white, the dichotomy is not that clear. In fact, it creates a grey area. Being biracial paints a blurred line that is equal parts staggering and illuminating. When I was asked by ELLE to share my story, I'll be honest, I was scared. It's easy to talk about which make-up I prefer, my favourite scene I've filmed, the rigmarole of 'a day in the life' and how much green juice I consume before a requisite Pilates class. And while I have dipped my toes into this on thetig.com, sharing small vignettes of my experiences as a biracial woman, today I am choosing to be braver, to go a bit deeper, and to share a much larger picture of that with you.

It was the late Seventies when my parents met, my dad was a lighting director for a soap opera and my mom was a temp at the studio. I like to think he was drawn to her sweet eyes and her Afro, plus their shared love of antiques. Whatever it was, they married and had me. They moved into a house in The Valley in LA, to a neighbourhood that was leafy and affordable. What it was not, however, was diverse. And there was my mom, caramel in complexion with her light-skinned baby in tow, being asked where my mother was since they assumed she was the nanny.

I was too young at the time to know what it was like for my parents, but I can tell you what it was like for me – how they crafted the world around me to make me feel like I wasn't different but special. When I was about seven, I had been fawning over a boxed set of Barbie dolls. It was called The Heart Family and included a mom doll, a dad doll, and two children. This perfect nuclear family was only sold in sets of white dolls or black dolls. I don't remember coveting one over the other, I just wanted one. On Christmas morning, swathed in glitter-flecked wrapping paper, there I found my Heart Family: a black mom doll, a white dad doll, and a child in each colour. My dad had taken the sets apart and customised my family.

Fast-forward to the seventh grade and my parents couldn't protect me as much as they could when I was younger. There was a mandatory census I had to complete in my English class – you had to check one of the boxes to indicate your ethnicity: white, black, Hispanic or Asian. There I was (my curly hair, my freckled face, my pale skin, my mixed race) looking down at these boxes, not wanting to mess up, but not knowing what to do. You could only choose one, but that would be to choose one parent over the other – and one half of myself over the other. My teacher told me to check the box for Caucasian. 'Because that's how you look, Meghan,' she said. I put down my pen. Not as an act of defiance, but rather a symptom of my confusion. I couldn't bring myself to do that, to picture the pit-in-her-belly sadness my mother would feel if she were to find out. So, I didn't tick a box. I left my identity blank – a question mark, an absolute incomplete – much like how I felt.

When I went home that night, I told my dad what had happened. He said the words that have always stayed with me: 'If that happens again, you draw your own box.'

I never saw my father angry, but in that moment I could see the blotchiness of his skin crawling from pink to red. It made the green of his eyes pop and his brow was weighted at the thought of his daughter being prey to ignorance. Growing up in a homogeneous community in Pennsylvania, the concept of marrying an African-American woman was not on the cards for my dad. But he saw beyond what was put in front of him in that small-sized (and, perhaps, small-minded) town, and he wanted me to see beyond that census placed in front of me. He wanted me to find my own truth.

And I tried. Navigating closed-mindedness to the tune of a dorm mate I met my first week at university who asked if my parents were still together. 'You said your mom is black and your dad is white, right?' she said. I smiled meekly, waiting for what could possibly come out of her pursed lips next. 'And they're divorced?' I nodded. 'Oh, well that makes sense.' To this day, I still don't fully understand what she meant by that, but I understood the implication. And I drew back: I was scared to open this Pandora's box of discrimination, so I sat stifled, swallowing my voice.

I was home in LA on a college break when my mom was called the 'N' word. We were leaving a concert and she wasn't pulling out of a parking space quickly enough for another driver. My skin rushed with heat as I looked to my mom. Her eyes welling with hateful tears, I could only breathe out a whisper of words, so hushed they were barely audible: 'It's OK, Mommy.' I was trying to temper the rage-filled air permeating our small silver Volvo. Los Angeles had been plagued with the racially charged Rodney King and Reginald Denny cases just years before, when riots had flooded our streets, filling the sky with ash that flaked down like apocalyptic snow; I shared my mom's heartache, but I wanted us to be safe. We drove home in deafening silence, her chocolate knuckles pale from gripping the wheel so tightly.

It's either ironic or apropos that in this world of not fitting in, and of harbouring my emotions so tightly under my ethnically nondescript (and not so thick) skin, that I would decide to become an actress. There couldn't possibly be a more label-driven industry than acting, seeing as every audition comes with a character breakdown: 'Beautiful, sassy, Latina, 20s'; 'African American, urban, pretty, early 30s'; 'Caucasian, blonde, modern girl next door'. Every role has a label; every casting is for something specific. But perhaps it is through this craft that I found my voice.

Being 'ethnically ambiguous', as I was pegged in the industry, meant I could audition for virtually any role. Morphing from Latina when I was dressed in red, to African American when in mustard yellow; my closet filled with fashionable frocks to make me look as racially varied as an Eighties Benetton poster. Sadly, it didn't matter: I wasn't black enough for the black roles and I wasn't white enough for the white ones, leaving me somewhere in the middle as the ethnic chameleon who couldn't book a job.

This is precisely why Suits stole my heart. It's the Goldilocks of my acting career – where finally I was just right. The series was initially conceived as a dramedy about a NY law firm flanked by two partners, one of whom navigates this glitzy world with his fraudulent degree. Enter Rachel Zane, one of the female leads and the dream girl – beautiful and confident with an encyclopedic knowledge of the law. 'Dream girl' in Hollywood terms had always been that quintessential blonde-haired, blue-eyed beauty – that was the face that launched a thousand ships, not the mixed one. But the show's producers weren't looking for someone mixed, nor someone white or black for that matter. They were simply looking for Rachel. In making a choice like that, the Suits producers helped shift the way pop culture defines beauty. The choices made in these rooms trickle into how viewers see the world, whether they're aware of it or not. Some households may never have had a black person in their house as a guest, or someone biracial. Well, now there are a lot of us on your TV and in your home with you. And with Suits, specifically, you have Rachel Zane. I couldn't be prouder of that.

At the end of season two, the producers went a step further and cast the role of Rachel's father as a dark-skinned African-American man, played by the brilliant Wendell Pierce. I remember the tweets when that first episode of the Zane family aired, they ran the gamut from: 'Why would they make her dad black? She's not black' to 'Ew, she's black? I used to think she was hot.' The latter was blocked and reported. The reaction was unexpected, but speaks of the undercurrent of racism that is so prevalent, especially within America. On the heels of the racial unrest in Ferguson and Baltimore, the tensions that have long been percolating under the surface in the US have boiled over in the most deeply saddening way. And as a biracial woman, I watch in horror as both sides of a culture I define as my own become victims of spin in the media, perpetuating stereotypes and reminding us that the States has perhaps only placed bandages over the problems that have never healed at the root.

I, on the other hand, have healed from the base. While my mixed heritage may have created a grey area surrounding my self-identification, keeping me with a foot on both sides of the fence, I have come to embrace that. To say who I am, to share where I'm from, to voice my pride in being a strong, confident mixed-race woman. That when asked to choose my ethnicity in a questionnaire as in my seventh grade class, or these days to check 'Other', I simply say: 'Sorry, world, this is not Lost and I am not one of The Others. I am enough exactly as I am.'

Just as black and white, when mixed, make grey, in many ways that's what it did to my self-identity: it created a murky area of who I was, a haze around howpeople connected with me. I was grey. And who wants to be this indifferent colour, devoid of depth and stuck in the middle? I certainly didn't. So you make a choice: continue living your life feeling muddled in this abyss of self-misunderstanding, or you find your identity independent of it. You push for colour-blind casting, you draw your own box. You introduce yourself as who you are, not what colour your parents happen to be. You cultivate your life with people who don't lead with ethnic descriptions such as, 'that black guy Tom', but rather friends who say: 'You know? Tom, who works at [blah blah] and dates [fill in the blank] girl.' You create the identity you want for yourself, just as my ancestors did when they were given their freedom. Because in 1865 (which is so shatteringly recent), when slavery was abolished in the United States, former slaves had to choose a name. A surname, to be exact.

Perhaps the closest thing to connecting me to my ever-complex family tree, my longing to know where I come from, and the commonality that links me to my bloodline, is the choice that my great-great-great grandfather made to start anew. He chose the last name Wisdom. He drew his own box.

[whitehairedclea]

Red Roulette part VIII

Helena sat in her office remembering Chang's words from last night. “As if I didn't know about my intuition, if it wasn't for my intuition I wouldn't open casinos in the States or raise such amount of money, you idiot” she thought. Then, for a split second, she remembered his hands holding her hand and her waist. Gently, yet firm enough to keep her from talking any more. She lit a cigarette and tossed the lighter at the corner of the desk. She quickly dispelled her memories, returning to the issue of the diamond. From the words of Chang showed that the guy did it on behalf of someone, and so probably the diamond has already been transferred to the client.

"Sebastian!"

A seconds later he appeared in the office waiting for an order.

"Bring the Spider over here immediately, maybe he will know something today that will be helpful"

"Of course, I'll get him right away," he replied and left the office quickly.

If someone did order the theft of the diamond, there must have been some trace of it on the streets. So many informants were fooling around deceiving every single profitable handful of information that such a fact of handing over the diamond could not have escaped them.

“ Mrs. Roulette! How nice ... "Spider began as soon as he entered, but Helena quickly cut off his greeting. 

“Okay, finish this cirrus. Fast. Have you heard of any strange meeting last night? "

"Virtually every one in this city, as if you could be more precise"

“It's mainly about the diamond, so focus. Whatever you heard, whatever you know "

“Let's start 600,000,” he smiled.

She had no desire or time to bargain with him, so she just nodded, trying to trust her intuition that he was the only person who could move her search forward.

"I heard one guy brag about a huge amount of money earned for one thing, just one Job. Maybe not a diamond specifically, but quite a similarity"

"Well, who was it then?"

"One of the people coming to the Yellow Flag, long brown hair, possibly American, weird that’s why I remember and that's all I know."

This was more than she could figure out so far, so she thought she had found the lead. All she had to do was find this man and find out who told him to do the job. Time was running out and there was also a risk that someone would want to sell this diamond abroad. Probably worth more than all of Roanapur .

***

  Sebastian headed for the Yellow Flag, a dingy bar on the main street. Inside, it was swarming with suspicious curiosities - dealers, bounty hunters, dirty workmen, prostitutes who could be hired upstairs. In all this hive, he was looking for an American with long hair. 

"Hi Bao " greeted the owner "how's the deal?"

"So far so good, it's only been a week since the last damage, how r you ?"

"It's pretty good to say the casino is spinning somehow, little problems"

"Problems? What, boss has her period? " laughed, but after Sebastian's expression he retired to safer topics "so what problems?"

"I'm looking for a new stranger, he must have arrived here about two days ago, a long-haired brunette, an American, have you heard something about it?"

Bao rapped on the counter to indicate that nothing is for free. Sebastian took a bundle of money out of his pocket and asked for a mug of beer for that.

"My dear, if any connoisseur from Uncle Sam is going to roll through this town, he is sure to look into a lovely restored place like the Yellow Flag!" Bao moved closer to him so that no one would hear what he was saying "... how to tell you, the girls upstairs are definitely perfect"

Sebastian didn’t need more. He jumped up, throwing an additional tip to the bartender, and ran upstairs. Already on the stairs there were crowds of women who were Whiting for the client. Mixed voices of men and women came from everywhere. Every room felt occupied. Sebastian had to choose one to find the American.

One room caught his attention as there was no sound. He decided to try and blew the door open. Inside, a white man sat on the couch, counting quite a large mountain of money. It was obvious this guy was the one he was looking for.

In an instant, he took out the gun before he could react and pointed it at him.

"Dude what are you ?!"

"I would advise you to start talking before your brain will be on that wall over there!" he shouted.

The gun was now right at his temple.

"Who did you sell the diamond to?" Sebastian asked the distressed American.

"It's nothing personal man"

'I don't care, you stole my boss's diamond, who's not a very patient woman. If you want to get out of this, I advise you to talk, we will probably manage without you, but it will be faster,' he replied, unlocking the gun.

The American, feeling the barrel of the gun against his temple, understood how much he did not care about keeping the client's secret. He had money, keeping his life was a priority. Later he talked more than had to.

He was commissioned by an Italian named Dotti right after his arrival in Roanapur. He escaped from the Italian mafia and hid somewhere in the city, gathering his strength to take over the position of the then mafia boss. He couldn't announce his great comeback yet, so he decided to start marking his grounds with minor intimidations. Defecting Helena was to scare her and take over the casino as a new home. The plan might have worked if it had happened to someone else. Helena wasn't going to let go of such an insult, she would have pulled information about him from the city's canals to get him.

"THIS IS ALL I KNOW!" he shouted "really even the pasta makers don't know where he is. NOBODY knows, I got the money a moment ago together with the key to this room!"

There was nothing else to ask. He sheathed the gun and grabbed the bag of money, then threw them all out of the open window. Hundreds of dollars scattered across the crowded street. Seconds later, there were shouts of surprise and fights for every dollar.

"FUCKING MOTHERFUCKER WTF ?!"

'Enjoy you're alive. I'd rather blow your head off now" Sebastian replied and left.

He returned to the casino as soon as possible. It was the most important piece of information, the main puzzle to solve the whole case. They might have started working before it was too fast to spread around town that the Roulette casino could be brazenly robbed.

Sebastian shared with Helena all the clues he had obtained. Without a moment's thought, she rushed to the phone and started calling known informants if anyone had heard of Datti's location . Unfortunately, silence, no one knew him and no one heard of him since he hid from the Italian mafia.

"The little fish don't know anything or don't want to sprinkle ..." she said, looking out the window. Sebastian had the impression that she was running out of ideas on what to do next.

'Maybe actually wait for an intimidation attempt? There is a chance he'll reveal himself. ”Helena didn't let him finish, she held up a hand to silence him.

'I won't wait, Sebastian. It's a perfect night to spill some blood, "she said with a slight smile on her face, then added," If the little fish don't know anything, let's see what the shark says. "

'It means ?'

'We're going to talk to All-Knowing-Mr-Chang , I think it might be a good move.' her green eyes flashed.

Sebastian felt as if she was getting excited about this whole situation.

***

The private line telephone began to ring. Chang picked up "Cho , if they're Cubans again with cocaine in their veins, fire them, I won't play business with junkies," he dropped after a hard day. From this morning, one of the cartel people wants to sell him the idea of cracking down on cocaine in Japan. Like a drugged man, full of vision, he only wasted his time.

'Of course boss, it's just ... they're not Cubans. Red Roulette and Sebastian are here asking for a meeting'

Somewhere in the background you could hear Helena's voice, who didn't like the phrase 'ask'. She clearly tried to correct that she required this meeting.

'Let them in'

Chang began to believe that this evening was not going to be written off after all. "But there are still people in this town who can keep me entertained," he thought. A moment later he heard the clap of heels and a knock on his office door.

'Come in'

Cho entered first and signaled that they could enter. Helena straightened her red hair quickly and walked in with a serious look.

"Why do I owe such a great visit," he asked, comfortably leaning against the desk.

'I'll be short because I don't have time. I know who ordered the theft and it was Dotti , a former member of the Italian Mafia, but I have no idea where he is ' she came close enough to rest her hands on his desk. The red nails tapped gently impatiently. Her green eyes, full of fury, waited for his reply. It was only then that he noticed that there was a tiny mole on her face next to her left eye. Right at the tip , as if it was waiting to be spotted under the cover of red waves of hair. The long black dress sparkled softly in the light, and Chang wished she would take a few steps back to see her leg emerging from the slit. The louder tapping of her nails brought him back to reality. He wanted to laugh at wandering his mind, but quickly gathered his thoughts.

"Of course, I know where he is. Boss of the italian mafia still makes me laugh that he can’t find this Dotti guy. I'll help you with him, " he replied, standing to put on his jacket.

'You misunderstood me, Mr. Chang. I don't want you to help me deal with him. Just give me his location, I'll do the rest myself. '

It made the corner of his mouth turn into a devilish smile. The predator's gaze shone from behind his black glasses . 

'Sorry, I misinterpreted your intentions. Then let me accompany you on this journey ”he offered her a hand, lowering his head as if inviting her to dance.

He was eager to see this confrontation unfold. And most of all, what she can do. As a new fish in town, she had to show that she could do more than sell information, otherwise it would be difficult for her. She could slide quickly to the very bottom of that Roanapur abyss .

'In that case, let's dance tonight' she smiled malevolently.

[shotos-kettle]

My dearest Friend.. (M)

Chapter one.

*Trigger waring: violence, rape(in further chapters) p.s.... im sorry for writing this but It just happened and I cant get the plot out of my head.

Based off the inspiration that this photo gave me.

'I'm not too sure when it all really started, maybe a few months after we started school together, but… Kaa-chan has always picked on me one way or another, whether for my intellect, my appearance or the fact that I was born a quirkless nobody…'

Pin pricks of ink dotted around in a general area of the journal as Midoriya ran a hand through his soft messy green locks, a long sigh slipping past his lips as he tried to go deeper into his thoughts, wanting to make his entry tonight mean something more than just mindless drabbles. 

'When we got into middle school it started turning into something more than just light teasing, maybe it was because Kaa-chan's body was changing inside so his brain really couldn't tell him it was wrong. Even though I really didn't mind the teasing. At the end of the same day he was still Kaa-chan to me and i was still Deku to him, that was fine right? That's how it was supposed to be between the two of us.'

"Midoriya! Everyone's already downstairs for dinner, are you coming out of your room or not?" 

Setting his pen down for a moment Midoriya turned to look at Kirishima who had popped his head into the room, and with a smile on his face he nodded and gave him a small thumbs up. "I'll be down in just a minute, I'm just finishing up some homework that Sir Nighteye gave me during today's work study." 

He watched as Kirishima's face took on an unreadable expression for a moment before the fiery red head nodded and smiled before exiting. "Just don't take too much longer, Tsu made dinner tonight and you know how she gets when you skip her meals."

Midorya laughed slightly as he scratched at the nape of his neck. "Yeah yeah i know!" As he stared at the door waiting for a few moments his smile dropped as he thought back to the expression that had crossed over his friend's face for that brief moment, he could only imagine what the boy had been thinking. Turning back to his journal he picked his pen back up and let out a heavy sigh, pressing the tip into the paper to finish off his entry for the night.

'I don't really know how much longer kaa-chan is going to be like this towards me, whether this more aggressive side of him is just a phase or.. if he really does hate me for being picked by all might just like he said. I can never tell if he's being truthful or just saying something to get me off his case. Anyway, we are still friends, no matter what I know he still cares.. I can tell he cares, he just has a strange and unethical way of showing it.' 

He closed his journal and finally stood from his desk, taking a glance around the darkened room he gingerly slid the thin journal underneath his heavy mattress. "Alright, time to eat." He murmured to himself as he finally exited his room, taking careful and quiet steps down the stairs to the main hall where he knew everyone would be gathered. 

"I'm sorry if I'm late guys! I was almost done with my homework." Midoriya slid into one of the open seats and looked over at Tsu as she set a plate of food in front of him. "Thank you, it looks great as always Tsu!" He let the compliment roll off his tongue, a wave of an undesirable feeling washed through his nerves as he felt daggers digging into the back of his neck. He didn't have to turn around to know where it was coming from, he knew it was Bakugo, it was always Bakugo. No matter where he ventured, whether it was into the city or within the confines of their dorm house he was always there. 

His head lowered as he sank into his seat just a little bit more than usual. "Don't thank me Midoriya, I just wanted to make sure you got your dinner  too. I heard you have some training today with Mr. Aizawa." It was great that she cared, he enjoyed having friends around him that would care for his well being since gods knew he wouldn't do it himself. Even his mother, Inko would always call him once she knew he was out of class just to make sure he hadn't skipped lunch that day. Bless her heart, she was always so concerned about him and it was a good thing too. 

He had to admit, if it weren't for Uraraka and Tsuyu he didn't think he would be able to keep up his strength as well as he had been on his own.  "Yeah.. but still Tsu, thank you. I'll enjoy every bit of it!" 

As he went to take the first bite of his breakfast a wad of paper landed on his plate, the snickering from behind him caused a shiver to run down his spine. He squirmed uncomfortably in his seat as he set the paper aside and picked up his plate, slowly standing. "I think I'm going to eat on the porch this morning.." he whispered solemnly as he lowered his head, attempting to scoot past the grumpy blonde. But the second his foot caught on something he landed face first into his plate of food, eyes scrunched  to not get anything in them. 

"Watch where you're going you damn nerd." Bakugo hissed as he knocked his foot into Midoriya's side, just barely missing his hip bone. It was on purpose, and Midoriya knew that… Everything Bakugou did to him was never unintentional, and it hurt. He quietly pushed himself up off the floor, leaving his ruined plate as he rushed out of the common room and into the nearest bathroom, heart pounding as the tears that threatened to spill over just kept building up. He slammed the door shut behind him and pressed his back against it, trying to clear the food away from his eyes so he could open them.

It wasn't an issue of the torture that Bakugou always put him through, no that wasnt why he high tailed it out of there. There was something so much worse going on that pressed further into his mind. Something he would never let come to light. It was painful, to have someone who he considered to be his childhood best friend treat him in such a manner, to bring these feelings forward, and it was even worse to admit to himself that he enjoyed the pain that Bakugou put him through. Though he had to admit it, even if just to himself…

The lock clicked behind him as he pushed away from the door, refusing to look at himself through the mirror as he turned the sink on, beginning to wash the wasted food off his skin. Some of it burned, having been fresh off the stove. Tsuyu must have kept it hot for him while he had been finishing his journal entry for the night. When he finally lifted his head to meet his own eyes he simply stood there, staring back at his own reflection.  He felt like a failure, couldn't even stand up so someone he considered a friend despite everything they had done to him over the last few years, but how could he? When the same pain inflicted upon him by that very friend brought him so much sickening joy.

He brought a hand down to press over his now bruised hip, hissing as his fingers dug into the area. Lifting his shirt he examined the blotches of purple and yellow that were blossoming against his skin, his eyes slowly drifting to the tent that had formed in his shorts and a heavy hearted breath left his lips. 'Why am I this way?' He began to think to himself as he rid himself of his clothes, stepping into the tub as he started to let the water fill up. Sinking down to his knees once the scalding water began to rise. 'I can't stop it anymore, why does this keep happening? Why him of all people?' 

Midoriya's mind was far too flooded to think rationally as he clasped his fingers around his growing erection, a needy breath leaving his lips as he squeezed the base of his cock. The water that continued to lick as his thighs only egged his arousal on further, his eyes fluttering closed as he leaned back, propping himself against the back of the tub, one leg pressed against the side of the porcelain that framed his body. His hips rocked in time with his strokes, jaw taught to keep himself quiet as his head tipped back against the wall behind him.

His free hand slipped down between his legs, hips lifting as he pressed two slim digits past the tight ring of muscle and deep inside of himself. Wiggling down further into the tub as his back arched, one hand working desperately to stretch himself out and find that spot deep within his ass that would bring stars to his closed eyes. This is what he had become, a disgusting version of himself that got off on being bullied and beaten by one of his closest friends and he hated every second of it. There was something wrong with him, something within his mind had changed over the years and he wasn't sure when it had started but it did. 

A gasp left his lips as his climax finally hit, spurts of cum mixing with the water than now came up to his chest, he pulled his hands away and started to tear up again this time the tears spilled over and streamed down his cheeks, soft sobs and hiccups left him as he sat there in his own filthy water, fingers curling into his green locks. "I'm disgusting.. I'm so sorry Kaachan.." The words came out broken as he tried to speak through his own sobs. Bakugou could never find out about any of these feelings, it would surely mark the end of his life if he ever found out.

[honestlyimstilllivinginthe90s]

Impossible | Harrison Osterfield | Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

Warnings: Mentions of death, grief, mild spoilers for Acotar

Word Count: 2.7k

All I can remember is crying. I ran to my mother, my father didn't even try to restrain me; I could hear him silently cry.

"Mom! Mom! Mother, please. I need you. Mom!" I cradled her in my arms, ignoring the blood that seemed to stain every inch of her body. Her face was grey, her eyes closed. At least she had been sleeping. At least it hadn't hurt her.

"Mom." I choked out a sob. My heart ached, my ribs felt like they were trying to squeeze my heart out of my throat. My mother, my beautiful mom. It felt like I was 5 again. Like a little child lost in a crowd of people, just wanting to find their mother. I wanted to find my mother. I just wanted my mom.

"Mom please. I need you. You can't leave me. Please, mom." I stroked her hair, my tears mixed in with her blood.

"Y/n, we need to go. It's not safe." My father's hand was on my shoulder, gently shaking it.

"No. I can't leave her. I- why her? Why my mom?" I voice broke as I felt power in my veins, building up, burning around my body. It was a power I never felt before.

I felt my father turn and start to talk to someone but I wasn't listening. My own sobs the only sound I could hear.

"Come on y/n. Nothing bad will happen. Your father has her now. Let me keep you safe." A male voice said. Tom. It was Tom. I turned and looked at him. He softly smiled and held out his hand. I turned to my father.

"Don't leave her alone."

"Never." My father took my mother out of my hands. I turn around and took Tom's hand. He pulled me into his chest so I couldn't see the rest of the room. He kept one hand on the small of my back and led me out of the bedroom. I kept my head in his shoulder and just cried. Every few seconds Tom rubbed my back or stroked my hair, telling me that we're going outside to the garden and that he'd make me some tea.

Tom gently pulled away from me. We were outside in the garden, the breeze warm but I was shivering. Tom pulled a chair out for me and sat me down and proceeded to pull off his black jacket. I completely forgot that I was only wearing a t shirt and pajama bottoms. Tom wrapped his jacket around my shoulders, and muttered something about getting me some tea. He called over a nearby servant, asking him for a cup of tea and for a healer. The servant hurried off as Tom took a seat across from me, taking my hands in his, warming them up.

"How did they get in?" My voice was hoarse from crying. Tom was a shadowsinger, if he hadn't realised someone had broken in then.....

"I don't know. I don't think they did break in." Tom's voice was small. He didn't want me to talk about it but he knew that that was the way I dealt with things. By carrying on. By leading.

"You think my mother's..."I sighed, "murder was an inside job?"

"No one broke in last night. The wards are still up." Tom bowed his head, "They could've broke in a few days ago and went unnoticed."

"Impossible. You would've known." He looked up at me, his brown eyes apologetic.

"I should've known."

Before I could object, Elphin, the servant Tom had called over, returned with a cup of tea which he handed to me, Tom letting go of my hands.

"Juliette is on her way." Elphin bowed his head and left us alone. We sat in silence for a few minutes before I spoke up.

"Juliette. I'm sure you're happy about that."

Tom chuckled. Tom had a crush on her since we were kids. She was the only one, who I  ever saw, make him shy. Juliette's mother was the best healer in the Spring Court, Juliette following in her footsteps.

"I want you checked over. With what just happened, I'm surprised you didn't go into shock. I want to make sure you're okay."

Tom had always been like a brother to me. I was so grateful that I had him, I didn't want to think of what I would have done without him.

"I love you." I smiled at him. He reached over and planted a soft kiss on my forehead.

"I love you too, missy." He ruffled my hair jokingly, I shoved him away. He laughed at me and I was happy to hear his laugh again.

"I hope I'm not interrupting. Elphin said that you needed a healer." I recognised the sweet voice as Juliette's. Tom hopped up from his chair. He brushed off his black t-shirt and cleared his throat.

"Juliette, I requested to see you. Well not you specifically, I requested for a healer and I got you. Not that I'm not happy I got you, I'm overjoyed I got you. But not too overjoyed, just the right amount of overjoyed." Tom cleared his throat again as he scratched the back of his neck. I giggled as Juliette blushed.

"Well I'm here now. What would you like me to do?" Juliette continued to stand tall, her voice calm and steady. She brushed a loose strand of her golden blonde hair out of her face. Tom moved closer to her.

"I'm sure you heard about what happened to the Lady of our Court. I'm worried about y/n, I would like if she was checked over, to make sure she's okay. I know of how stress can effect you." Tom smiled at her as Juliette walked over to me. She gently placed a tanned hand on my forehead. I felt a course of her magic travel over my body, assessing the damage, and if there was any.

"It doesn't look like there's anything wrong with y/n." Juliette said to Tom, he let out a sigh of relief. She turned to me, her emerald green eyes soft and understanding. "I can't imagine the pain you're going through right now, so I won't try to. But Lady y/n, I am so sorry for your loss. If you need any help, medical or otherwise, you know where to find me. I'm sure Tom isn't much help in the emotional support aspect of things."

"Hey!" Tom defended, we both laughed. Juliette stood back up from where she was kneeling in front of me.

"I'll see you soon, y/n." She turned and faced Tom.

"Goodbye Tom."

"Goodbye." Tom flushed. Juliette smiled and left.

"Someone has a crush." I teased.

"Seriously y/n. You know very well that I-"

"I wasn't talking about you." I stood up and smirked at him before I winnowed away.

_________________________________________

I ran through the corridors of my house. My arms were outstretched, I felt like I was flying. I ran down the stairs, the red velvet carpet soft under my bare feet.

"Y/n! Y/n! Wait up!" Juliette called from the top of the stairs. I turned around to face her. She was still beautiful considering how young she was.

"I don't have time to wait!" My voice was young and seemed far away. "The world waits for no one!"

I continued to run towards the door of the dinner hall. But before I reached it my mother burst out.

"I cannot believe you!! It has nothing to do with her!! What the Suriel said means nothing!! She is our daughter. If this is her future, you have no right to get in the way!!" My mother was so busy screaming at my father she hadn't noticed me standing wide eyed, staring. Juliette grabbed my wrist and tried to pull me back up the stairs.

"She is dangerous!" My father yelled.

"She is a child!!" My mother screamed back. She turned her back to my father and noticed me standing there. The colour went from her cheeks.

"Y/n..." Her voice was soft, a mother's voice but she was too late. I turned and sprinted up the stairs, Juliette following after me.

The heat had left the bath. I wasn't sure if it was because I had been in the bath for almost an hour and a half or because of the memory. I got up out of the bath, glad that all of my mother's blood was no longer on me. It hadn't really set in what had happened, I knew it would eventually and I wasn't looking forward to when it did. I dried myself off with my magic and got dressed in a yellow blouse and loose fitting pants. I left the bathroom but stopped before I could get anywhere.

My bedroom was at the end of the corridor, my father's office across from it. My father always awakes early to work, around 5 or 6. My mother was murdered after that, who knows how long she was dead before Bella found her. And with my parent's bedroom being at the opposite side of the stairs, no wonder my father and I never heard anyone break into her room. I walked down the corridor to my parent's room, my heart pounding in my chest. I got to the door and opened it before I could think otherwise.

The room was empty. Completely empty. The walls were clean and so was the floor. The bed was gone, aswell as the wardrobe, vanity, mirrors, rug and bookshelves. There was no evidence of what had happened earlier that day. Honestly there was no evidence of my mother ever being here in the first place.

"Your father didn't want to sleep here anymore. He doesn't know what to do with himself. Don't worry he kept all of her belongings, he just doesn't want to face this room again." I turned around to see Bella standing in the doorway. I walked over to stand beside her.

"It's just so... I can't believe she's gone."

Bella placed a comforting hand on my arm.

"Me neither." She sighed. She nodded, like she just remembered that she had a job to do,  "Your father wishes to see you. He's in his office when you're ready."

"Let's go."

We walked together to my father's office, Bella walking slightly ahead of me.

"Be patient with your father. He's scared. He wants to keep you safe, you're his number one priority at the moment. Just try to be understanding." Bella said before opening the door of the office.

"Y/n is here." I walked into the room. My father looked awful, stress obviously taking its toll on him.

"Sit down." He tried, unsuccessfully, to smile at me. I sat down in the chair on the opposite side of his desk.

"Call me if you need anything." Bella left the room.

"Thank you, Bella." My father said before the door closed. He looked at me, sorrow in his eyes.

"How are you doing?" He asked.

"Honestly, I don't know." My father nodded in understanding.

"What happened today was unpredicted, and it scares me to think of what could happen next. I'm worried for my safety but more importantly, I'm worried for yours." He moved uncomfortably in his seat, he didn't think I would be happy with what he would say next.

"I still think you should marry, the deal we made is still going." He looked up at me. "I'm sorry, I know you're not happy with this but I just want to know that you're in safe hands."

I remained silent. He took this as a sign to keep talking.

"On the topic of you being safe, I was talking to Tom and we-" He stopped himself," I think that you should have someone protecting you at all times."

"What?" I tried to stay patient.

"Well having someone with you at all times will ensure that you are safe."

"You want me to have a bodyguard?" To my surprise, my voice was calm.

"I guess you could say that."

"Why don't you believe in me? Why don't you believe that I can lead this Court? Why do you believe that I need someone to protect me? Am I not enough?" My voice was quiet, I was exposing the worries that lived constantly in my brain.

"It's not that I don't believe in you." My father sighed. "It's that I don't believe in me. It was my job to look after you mother and you saw how that went. I can't lose you too."

I looked into my father's broken eyes. Honestly he was never the best father, being the High Lord always seemed like his number one priority but right now, he was trying to make up for it. And how bad could it be having a bodyguard. I could just tell them to leave me alone or even eventually get rid of them when my father was no longer living in fear.

"Okay."

'Okay?" My father looked at me with confusion. "You're okay with this?"

Of course not. I'm not your puppet! My brain responded.

"Yes. It's for the best." I lied, I'd find a way out of this. All of it.

My father reached across his desk to take my hands in his. I stopped myself from pulling away.

"Thank you y/n."

His eyes were so sincere and filled with love that I couldn't bring myself to say anything so I just nodded. Thankfully there was a knock on the door and Tom entered.

"The guards have arrived, your Lord." Tom noticed that I was sitting here, I pulled hands out of my father's grasp. " And he's here. The man you requested to protect y/n."

"Take her to meet him." I stood up abruptly. Tom stared at me, wondering why I seemed so happy with all of this. I quickly and subtly shook my head, he got the message.

"I'll lead the way."

I followed Tom out of my father's office. We walked in complete silence, I was trying to think of anything that would get me out of this. We walked down the stairs, the entrance hall was packed. There were soldiers everywhere, and not just any soldiers. Illyrian soldiers from the Night Court.

"Your father requested for me to up the security with more soldiers. So I brought him the best. There are 50 of them all together. You'll hardly see them in the house, don't worry." Tom tried to make me feel better about this whole situation. But I could only think of one thing.

"Where is he?" I asked. Tom immediately knew who I was talking about.

"I chose him for you. He is one of my best friends and someone that I trust with my and now your life. He's a great guy. I'm sure you'll get on great. I already know that you have so much in common. "

I gave Tom a look of disbelief. He chuckled.

"He's second-in-command to the General of the High Lord of the Night Court's armies. He's a great fighter and could train you if you wanted." Tom walked over to the library under the stairs.

"And I can't wait for you to meet him." Tom opened the door.

Inside a High Fae male dressed in Illyrian leathers, with curly dirty blonde hair that looked slightly golden under the candlelight was sitting on one of the desks. His back was facing us but I could just make out that he was sharpening a blade in his left hand. Even though he was sitting, I could still tell that he was tall. Upon hearing the door close behind us, he turned around and my heart stopped beating. My eyes were met with the unforgettable blue of his. The blue that I saw everywhere.

"Y/n this is my friend Harrison, Harrison meet Lady Y/n."

Tom had no clue that the bodyguard that he chose, the bodyguard that I was planning on getting rid of, was the man that I was willing to do anything to find.

Harrison moved to face us. We all stayed silent. Tom was waiting for me to explode in anger, Harrison and I were waiting for the other to talk. Eventually Harrison cleared his throat.

"There's room on this table for two."

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Thank you so much for reading!! I really hope you enjoyed. Feedback is always appreciated and if you want to be added to the taglist, feel free to ask!!!

Taglist: @devildisguiseasangel @ignimbritetcax

[vixxscifiwritings]

odd sense

Summary -  Hongbin couldn't care less about the masquerade. His sense are otherwise occupied with the enigmatic scent he has been looking for all night.

Warnings - Implications of murder

A/N - Inspired by Odd Sense and the Scentist x Perfume theory. Don’t ask me how I went from a romance song to an obsessed murderer interpretation

Tag list - @yixingminseokjongdae @tomatoholmes @seraphistols

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Hongbin caresses the blue flower in his hand, tutting as he takes in its current state. The vase of sweet peas has been long forgotten by the staff, the fellow flowers wilting away. The lone stalk stands upright, petals stubbornly taut. He’s rescuing a destitute flower, he reasons. It’s definitely not stealing if the flower was forgotten in the first place.

A shame since sweet peas are notoriously different to grow and care for.

And poisonous, he grins to himself. It’s not a well known fact but sweet peas are toxic and more often than not humans are fooled by the bright hue. He takes in the aroma and surveys the scene from the balcony he is standing on.

He rather hates balls. The faux laughter and giggling of the crush, the obnoxious music and the bright hundred candle chandelier are rather off putting. He would not be here if not for the insistence of the host, who was hell bent on inviting the town’s favourite perfumer. Hongbin would rather be in his cozy shop surrounded by his equipment than be here at the masquerade.

The passage of time does no wonders for his mood. He absolutely abhors the mixing of the banal scents of the society. Almost every human is bathed in dubious amounts of strongly scented oils and powdered faces. The satin coats and skirts swish as he makes his way across the dance floor. He has been here for a polite amount of time. He figures, professing an illness and an inability to dance will be good enough to excuse him from further forced company.

An odd scent flits by him and he stops, staring in the direction it came from.

It’s unusual. He caught only a faint whiff of the scent but it isn’t a tone he can recognise. The base tone of sandalwood and citrus is the first thing he recognises but he can’t name the oil that produces the fragrance.

He turns and follows the scent. He makes half hearted apologies for the dancing couples he interrupts in his haste. He must find the person who walked by him.

Scents trigger a series of memories in anyone. He is briefly reminded of his mother who worked as a fisherwoman, her hands always smelling of the dead fish and the salty seas. He is reminded of the young boy with large brown eyes who smelt of white roses, who was the first person who Hongbin drowned in a vat of essential oils so that he could trap that lovely fragrance.

But that was a failure. His first true success was the man who smelt like yellow sunflowers. Hongbin first saw him with a yellow honeysuckle held between his lips, his cat like eyes darting to his own. The memory is immortalized in a vial of honeysuckle toned perfume that is stored away on a shelf. Never for sale and out of reach of wandering unwelcome hands.

What is that alluring scent that pulls him in so strongly? To whom does it belong?

The dance changes and the people move around, couples walking off the dance floor and couples walking onto the dance floor. The scent wafts to him, calling him teasingly but never revealing its source.

A low growl escapes Hongbin’s throat. He must find it.

He excuses himself to a corner, grabbing a cup of coffee as he walks by the food table. The roasted powder absorbs fragrances and they are the best substitute he can find for the beans. His senses must be alert if he has to track this mysterious scent down.

As the baroque progresses, Hongbin catches the eye of a gentleman across the floor. He is dressed in a dark green coat with golden filigree along the stitches and lower hem and a flower brooch on his lapel. From his movements and build Hongbin can tell that he is quite young compared to the ton. Most men here are old military veterans or old wealthy merchants. But this man is new. Hongbin hasn’t seen him in town earlier.

The man holds his gaze while engaging his partner in polite conversation. The girl dancing with him is quite besotted but Hongbin knows she is not the object of his attention. As the musicians approach the crescendo, the couple approaches him and Hongbin catches that enigmatic scent again. His eyes narrow, pupils dilating with uninhibited wanting.

The gentleman’s eyebrows raise. He grins slyly, holding his head higher. Hongbin smiles because his night is now more interesting than he initially planned. The couple moves away in the sequence of steps but Hongbin can wait. Patience is important and he has an abundance of it.

The secret to that mysterious scent will be unraveled by the time the ball ends and oh, his night has only just begun.

The set ends and the gentleman bows to his dance partner. He is rather tall and dashing under that mask, if his features are any indication. His nose and jawline feel sculpted from marble and his broad shoulders are exaggerated by the cut of his coat. The gentleman refuses a second offer to dance with a wistful smile that guiles the asker into feeling sorry for asking rather than the rejection. He turns to Hongbin who retreats to the gallery adjacent to the ballroom.

The sounds are muffled here and the lighting dimmer. The footmen are all engaged in the ballroom, leaving the gallery and its occupant paintings unguarded. Hongbin only turns when he reaches the end of the long hallway. His young gentleman has only entered the gallery and he stops to stare at Hongbin. He licks his lips and Hongbin moves before he has the chance to call his name.

Hongbin follows the familiar path to the patio that leads to the gardens in the backyard. Since most of the gathering is inside for the dancing, the gardens will be empty and most private locations. The steps give way to the fountain that is followed by large hedges, cultivated and grown to form a maze.

Hongbin disappears into the hedges and the young man follows. Perhaps the best part of this clandestine affair is the exhilarating chase. Left turns and then right. A solid wall and a secret passage leading to the centre. The hedges give way but there is no one in sight.

The young man smiles, sensing Hongbin behind him before turning to look at him. He takes his mask off. Hongbin is unmasked and it seems only fair.

The moonlit visage pales in comparison to the the odd scent he has been chasing all evening. Hongbin swears under his breath. What gives rise to that overwhelming fragrance that draws him in like the opposite pole of a magnet? The tantalising secret lies just beyond his reach. Edging closer and closer to his finger tips.

The young gentleman holds his breath as Hongbin closes the distance between them in a trance. He traces his jawline and leans in, breathing against the skin just below his ear.

Hongbin moans in delight when he realizes two things. The first is that the scent he has been chasing all night isn’t an exotic unknown perfume from a far away land. A night’s worth of dancing has made the sandalwood and citrus fade away, in need of reapplication as it were.

No. This delightful scent is all his. This young beautiful man’s fragrance. An object of beauty indeed, Hongbin admires now that he can recognize him aromatically. His hand on the other man’s shoulder tightens possessively.

His.

And no one else’s.

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Bonus - If you can correctly guess the VIXX member who is the young gentleman from the story, I will write you a drabble of your choice!