#sorry to everyone who's been waiting for this final installment! i forgot to post it like a year ago

[ailuronymy]

Book Club: Tallstar’s Revenge, chpt. 37-45 overview.

Two highly professional gravediggers observe the job ahead of them:

“I'd like to congratulate us both on finishing this godawful book! A whole super edition in five weeks. They said it couldn't be done, but we showed them. “ - S

“Yes! It's truly miraculous that our brains are intact still.” - K

“So glad it's over, though.” - S

“Should I grab the shovel?” - K

“Yes, it's time. Let's bury this corpse.” - S

In this final week of reading Tallstar’s Revenge, we will be thinking about these final nine questions. Well done for making it this far! We hope you’ve enjoyed the ride. 

When you’re ready, consider sharing your thoughts with #ailuronymy book club and see what other readers are thinking!

1. First impressions?

K: It's bad! It's bad. It's all bad and I'm not surprised by any of it. K: I was actually expecting there to be more bullshit in the end, but I was almost... let down? By how underwhelming it was? S: Some moments surprised me a little but like... these did not spark joy. K: It was so boring. S: I have that same note: huge anticlimactic fuckery at the end. K:  If you're going to torture me, you might as well make it interesting, Erin. K: Throw in a wild plot twist or something. K: Get me going. K: Make me feel alive.

2. How did you feel reading this section? K:  Mind numb, head empty. For like, at least three chapters I read them and then failed to register anything important for the notes. It just dragged on. S:  More bored than I expected to be! I thought it'd at least ramp up a little, but it very much did not in any meaningful way and really petered out with a sad little "wuh-wuh."

3. What chapter did you find most interesting/moving/effective, and why? K: Chapter Forty, seeing all of the clanmates that I'd been missing for half the book felt so satisfying. I missed Dawnstripe, Heatherstar, Barkface, and Hopkit all so much. The only good bit. S:  I feel that. S:  For me, I think in terms of sheer pleasure, it has to be the echoes I saw from turn to dust all that I adore in Talltail swimming in a time of crisis. K: Yes! S: It made that passage I wrote feel retroactively so much more intense and significant, which I love.

4. What chapter did you find least interesting/effective/most frustrating, and why?

K:  The final chapter, Chapter Forty-Seven. That leader ceremony was so bad and I hated all of it. K: The Shadowclan battle was also mind-numbing. S: I think it's got to be the jump from first apprentice to leader ceremony. That's so much life we don't see, which given how goddamn long the book took for the rest of his very boring life is a travesty. S:  I tend to take some umbrage with Starclan whenever it shows up in canon, but in this particular case, the way that his leader ceremony is handled--especially by Palebird and Sandgorse--is horrific. S:  I also think it's appalling that Sandgorse offers a life of forgiveness, but never once asks for it from Talltail, unless I'm mistaken? S: He thinks he can embody forgiveness, but doesn't have the humility to admit to the things that he had done wrong by Talltail. Egregious.

5. Is there a passage that stuck in your mind–for good, or not-so-good reasons? What is it, and why did it stand out? S:  I think for me, this is Sandgorse's everything in the leader ceremony. I think I'll just [my whole rant just now + thoughts on forgiveness]. K:  I had two specific quotes from this go that fit I think. K:  First was: "I guess Clan cats aren’t used to leaving home.” Jake sounded amused. “I know the feeling you’re having. The nagging pain, the tug in my pelt and paws? I get that whenever I’m away from my home too long.” “Really?” Talltail blinked. “Why?” “Every creature needs to belong somewhere,” Jake told him. “Your paws know where that is, even if you don’t.” K:  Just the phrase of "Every creature needs to belong somewhere" felt so genuine and sweet coming from Jake, and I think could have felt so much more impactful if the themes we've recognized were more evident in the story. K:  The second was: “Talltail!” Dawnstripe leaped from the Meeting Hollow. “You came back!” Delight lit up her eyes. Talltail stood still as she raced to meet him. “I couldn’t stay away.” She stopped in front of him and gazed warmly into his eyes. “Then my training wasn’t wasted.” “It was never wasted,” he meowed softly. “Not once.

S: YES K: Partially because I will always be soft for Dawnstripe, but also, the genuine tenderness between her and Talltail in this moment felt so real and so earned. K: This is what I wanted from Bluestar and Stonepelt. S: I've said it before, I'll say it again: mentor+apprentice relationships For Life. K: Talltail saying that his training with Dawnstripe was never wasted, and then immediately transitioning into him encouraging and being a positive role model for Deadkit? K:  Ugh. It's so good. S: Loved it.

6. What other non-Warriors (or Erin Hunter affiliated) books does this one remind you of? Are there themes, symbolism, or storybeats in this novel that made you think of other stories as you read it?

K:  Oh, great question. K:  Oh shit, you know what. S: Hit me. K: We've got a Book Club classic coming at you. K: The Knife of Never Letting Go, by our mutual bastard Patrick Ness. S: You know, I was thinking about More Than This. But mostly because of how much I hated it. K: TKNLG's big theme revolves around like, what murder does to you and what it feels like to do an unspeakable act that you can't retract or replace. Revenge and anger become a part of you and you've got to deal with that. K:  And it's been ages since I read it, but I feel like that makes a lot of sense for this book. Todd and Talltail both spend a book with things being taken from them and wrongs being done to them, and it makes them so angry and hurt and desperate that eventually they go "Okay, yeah, murder would be a solution here." And when it comes down to it they both get to make that choice, of what they want to put out into the world and what kind of man they want to be. S:  I like that. I haven't read it myself, but I can definitely see how those themes talk to one another. S: I don't think there's a particular story I can pinpoint that is similar to this one, but I can think of stories that echo what I'd like this story to have leaned into more. S: Being about forgiveness and family trauma, it reminds me both of The Goblin Emperor and also the How To Train Your Dragon films? Especially the first film, I think. That whole undercurrent of absent mother, disdainful and frustrated father, queer-coded and different kid feels very present in Tallstar's Revenge. S: However, I think HTTYD does that a lot better than this book, by a considerable length.

7. Did this novel (or the experience of reading it) change your perspective on anything, either within the world of Warriors or outside it? What do you think about differently now?

 K: Hm. I think it's certainly limited my excitement on reading any future Super Editions books. They all seem to be just the same garbage plot wrapped with slightly different bows, and that's both disappointing and relieving. S: I feel you on that. S: I think for me, the single biggest shift is that it's changed how I think of Tallstar. For me, he was probably my favourite leader--or one of my favourites--growing up reading the books, and he came across often as wise and relaxed, and then made that final defining mistake. S: Having come back and read this, I feel that the book stripped a lot from the character in a way that wasn't constructive. I don't feel like I know him better, but I do feel like I respect him less. And I think that's a monumental failure of a prequel. K: Tallstar had such a specific presence in the original series, and this book just really takes a lot of that away and replaces it with something worse. S: It does. And that's disheartening to me. S:  Of course I can and will kill the author myself and take my place on the throne of canon, but you can't unknow details of a character. So that does change things. I don't have the same fondness for Talltail, now that I know he spent so much time being unadmirable and stupid and boring. S:  I recognise that your twenties is like that for most people, but like. Doesn't mean it's worthy of a narrative. S:  Kind of makes me think of Albus Dumbledore, to swing back around to Joke Rowling? S: Like, despite and sometimes because of how phenomenally jank and flawed that magnificent man is, I love Albus Dumbledore. I always have, ever since I was first listening to the tapes. And part of that is knowing his past--knowing that he struggled figuring out what was right, knowing that he fell in love very young with someone whose ideology became incompatible with his core beliefs and virtues. But I think you can allude to past mistakes and show growth without having to delve into it, if that makes sense. S: If I read about teen Dumbledore being like "hmm maybe wizard supremacy is good" for several chapters, there's a strong possibility that would stain all my readings of him into the future. I can know he did something, without needing a front-row seat. K: Yeah. S: And I feel like the crux failure of Erin Hunter's super editions is they don't have the delicacy or sense needed to know what needs to be told and what needs to be shown. S: Because sometimes, showing is worse. K: Being shown like, all of this, was worse than not. S: Nearly all of this book could have been summary.

8. Last week, we talked about predicted endings for the novel. In light of that, how do you feel about the ending? Was your prediction correct–and do you feel that reflects well on the narrative, or poorly? (i.e., is it good that you could guess, or are you disappointed by the result?) How important is it for an ending to be “unguessable”?

K:  We hit the nail on the head and I am not surprised at all. S:  I would say we were basically correct, but it brought me no joy. K:  Yeah, it felt bad to read and go "I already knew this but sure, disappoint me with what you have to say." S: That's not to say I would have been overjoyed if there had been some bizarre twist, because I don't think twists or shock endings are inherently good storytelling. K:  They're not. They've gotta be handled well to make me feel like, "Fuck yes, this is wack and I want more" K:  And like, you can predict an ending and still have it be satisfying! K:  That's just called successful foreshadowing. K:  But what we did was like. Just have the sad, knowledgable wherewithal to know exactly what kind of inane and soulless bullshit Erin would pull. It's not foreshadowing if it's just "you're a bad writer and you're going to reach for the easiest tropes to tie up your story without any thought about what makes it good" S: As a general rule, I think you should be able to predict endings based on the tone and emotional themes of the story. For instance, a story that starts with someone getting thrown out of their house by their unloving family should, ideally, rectify that by ending with that person having either found a new loving family and/or revenging on the previous bad family. Sometimes both! S: If you're going to start an arc, you should finish it in a satisfying place. If you start with a murder being discovered, you should have a denouement at the end. S: So... I guess Erin Hunter's ending is... fine, in that light? S: Their narrative is honestly very muddled, so it's not super easy to actually see what the through-line of the story is. The story starts with a prophecy about Talltail leaving, so really it should end with his triumphant, enlightened return... but then it keeps going. K: It just drags on and so much of it feels weightless. S:  It feels like they're juggling a lot of themes and ideas, but they're not really doing any of it well enough to be impressive. While I'm reading, there's always this deep uncomfortable sense of anything could be dropped at any minute. A good performer of any kind makes you feel safe in their hands, not lowkey on edge. S: It's like watching amateur stand-up.

9. In your opinion, what is the most important moment or event in this final chunk of story, and why?

 K:  I guess the cliche answer would be to say "Tallstar choosing to return to Windclan", but like. I think that really is the most important part of all this. S:  I think it's actually choosing not to kill Sparrow. K:  Oh, I mean. Okay that's fair lmao S:  Because I think he probably could have gone back after he killed Sparrow and everyone still would have been basically fine about it. It didn't seem like anyone cared enough to try to stop him leaving, and frankly the clans as Erin Hunter writes them are mad blasé about murder. S:  But I think in order for Talltail to retain like, some moral worth as a character, it was vital (if super inevitable) for him to not kill Sparrow. K:  Absolutely. K:  Can you imagine if he had, though. K:  Like, if he'd pushed Sparrow off the ledge and went "sick" and then Sandgorse's ghost showed up to razz him with airhorns like 'YOU IDIOT SON, THAT WAS THE WRONG CHOICE, I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU WOULD DISAPPOINT ME AGAIN' S: Om.  S:  [that one video of the guy screaming above the mountains] S:  That's Starclan whenever the living make a bad decision.

Bonus question: choose a different character from Tallstar’s Revenge and briefly imagine what this story would be if they were the protagonist instead.

K: Hm. I'm torn. Barkface, or maybe Reena, would be interesting to me. S:  I think Reena's experience would be super interesting. K:  I think you could tell a really interesting narrative with her. S:  I'm sort of thinking Shrewclaw? Like, he's such a dick and there's very little about him that's redeemable, but like. This is also true of Talltail for a lot of the book. S: And I guess an external clan perspective of Talltail from someone who actively dislikes him could be kind of interesting! It'd definitely be a totally new counterpoint. K:  Yeah! Especially given that they end up kind of being... foils? A little? I think it could be super neat to like, see Shrewclaw reprimand Talltail for being so focused on revenge, and then suddenly becoming revenge-minded himself and then having to grapple with that hypocrisy. K:  Either by going "My feelings are different, I'm not like you," or going "oh shit oh fuck we're the same and now i feel all sorts of ways about it" S:  I think the low-hanging fruit for why Shrewclaw is such a prick to Talltail is just plain homophobia, you know? But that's so boring, so I'd definitely want to tap into like, the inner world of Shrewclaw and swing it a different way. S: See Talltail through his eyes, emphasising everything Shrewclaw doesn't like about himself. Which becomes so tasty when you later think about Mudclaw doing something similar. S:  Shrewclaw has to grow from hate and jealousy to grudging respect and kinship within the clan, and then Mudclaw grows from outright respect to total adoration. It's an interesting intergenerational trajectory.

Final notes.

S: God, can we rewind a moment to the whole Sparrow bullshit. K:  Oh 100%. S:  Talltail obsesses over this for like, at least twenty chapters. And then two lines of dialogue and he's like, "I'm cured, my dad was a hero the whole time." S:  “It’s what Sandgorse would do.” Now that the rage had gone, Talltail wondered how he could ever have thought of killing Sparrow. Had grief taken away all his faith in the warrior code?” MY rage is still right here. K:  Literally one of my notes is: K:  Talltail straight up telling him he’s here to kill him like a coward. Like not that I WANT him to be a murderer, but god damn, just do it! K:  If you're gonna spend an entire fucking book yelling about how badly you wanna kill a guy then just! Don't make me wait this goddamn long! Do it!! K:  And yeah, just. Redeeming Sandgorse. BLeughghelfuf

S:  Okay, another point of rage: Talltail literally dissolves the goodwill between the travellers and the clan. K:  Y E A H S:  Like, years of peaceful gathering, destroyed. S:  Note: "This dude literally just ended years of peace over his petty revenge quest" K:  I do find it hilarious though that Talltail goes "Hey we should leave," Reena goes "Hm?? No you dont?" and then Sparrow comes in with the most uncomfortable, exhausted expression saying "No He's Right They Really Should Be Going And Should Never Come Back Thanks," S: I'm also so pissed that when Talltail showed up, the travellers were like, “Warriors and kittypets don’t belong with rogues” AND YET you stay for a whole month or more in clan territory? What ripe fuckery is this. K: YEAH IT MADE NO SENSE S: Everyone's just ambiguously racist enough to use it as an excuse whenever they don't want to do something.

S: Also: we called it re: Reena, although the story was actually less obnoxious than I was expecting. S: “There was sympathy in the she-cat’s mew, and Talltail suddenly wondered if Reena had been hoping that Talltail would be her mate: that they’d have kits and travel together. Had she started to imagine a whole new life ahead of them?” Ew.  K:  i was gonna say K:  We really did call it. S: Way to project, Talltail. S: "I guess she's in love with me and I'm breaking her heart by leaving because of the elaborate future she's imagined of our strong, brave kits and--" calm down, boy, she didn't say any of that. K: Yeah, like. Keep it inside, buddy.   K:  There was a lot of very wild Jake/Talltail shit going on but I'm going to drop this from my notes first before dipping into the bits I did like: K: Jake saying “oh that drive to kill wasn’t REALLY you” is VERY “what if I date this unhinged maniac man so I can change him and make him better because I know who he is deep down” and that is VERY unsexy of you, Erins, K:  Jake... my boy.... S: Yeah.  S:  I'm just going to keep pointing at the advice I gave him in previous Book Clubs. Respect yourself, king. K:  I did briefly look at the disastrous mini-comic at the end of the PDF and I do love that he's canonically a chubby king, though. S:  We do love that. A cuddly boy. K:  He's shaped like a friend! S:  But yeah, if these cats were people, Talltail is some skinny closeted runaway with some serious esteem issues and a kind of volatile and disrespectful pattern of behaviour. S:  And Jake is the cute bi boy next door with a supportive dad with apparently a solid sense of self and value, and I find that kind of a jank combination? It feels like it'll either lend itself to basically "adopt a stray" style "fixing" someone else, which isn't a great relationship dynamic, or Talltail dragging Jake into his mess and drama. And it's just difficult for me to imagine what Jake sees in Talltail. S:  If the relationship was just a bit more balanced--Talltail bringing something of value to Jake beyond "adventure"--I could believe it more. K:  Meanwhile, if Talltail retained his "soft, shy poet boy who's just looking for a place to be accepted and flourish" attitude... S: YES 

S:  I got so mad when Talltail's like, "I'm going to kill a guy," and Jake was like, "you can't!" and Talltail's like, "if I was back home, I would have probably already killed by someone by now," and Jake's like, "yeah but that's different, warriors killing each other for Survival is fine." K:  IT ISN'T S: And I'm like, whoa, slow down, I want to talk philosophy right here right now. S: It's a genuinely fascinating conversation that I want canon to have a lot more, but they just... glance over it.

S:  Pivot for a moment to the gay part of Jake/Talltail: I was surprised by exactly how heavily they implied it. K:  Me too!!! S:  I thought it'd be a lot less than there was, and a lot more oblique. So that was a pleasant (? is any part of this pleasant?) surprise. K:  And in the final comic they say that Tallstar sees Firestar like the son he would have had (with Jake).  Which. Is gay. S:  Mad huge gay, for sure. K:  Their final "oh, what if I stay with you!" parting scene was wild to read. And on Tallstar specifying that Jake is someone he loves at the very end. Like hot damn S:  But I Lost My Whole Mind. Because of one line. I read it and involuntarily galaxy-brained with the power of song. I can't find the full quote right now BUT it was basically Talltail and Jake talking right before Talltail leaves to return to the clan. S: And Jake's like, "you know what you have to do. Listen to your heart.” K: YES S: And I was HIT BY A TRUCK S: by this song S: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yCC_b5WHLX0 K:  OH FUCK YES S:  Which honestly is so good, and also hilarious, because I have fond gay memories of this song from my teen years. S:  So I know we were saying the very long slow lame end was boring and anticlimactic, but there were a few things that did in fact spark joy.  One was--despite his name and the rampant ableism--Deadkit. K:  YES K:  I have in my notes: K: "I would die for Deadkit." and then "Apparently Deadkit would die for me" S: Hopkit sat up straight, quivering with effort. “Still as a stone, right you are!” he mewed. “Barkface, carry on!” Bless. S: MY SON S: MY BOY K;  And Talltail finally being like? Not an asshole, and treating him well and encouraging him.  He really did feel like he was emulating Dawnstripe in a wholesome way. S:  I KNOW. S:  It honestly made me feel so good about the story I've planned out, but I can talk about that after. S: I also loved that Talltail swam. <3 K: Yes.  S: I was there just elated, thinking about Mudclaw's final moments. And how this story actually ties in so well with that one. That's nothing really to do with Erin Hunter, but it was nice for me. It made the two feel resonant and in conversation with each other in a way I truly hadn't expected. K:  Oh fuck also, two extra from the notes K:  "Talltail’s heart began to race. “I can’t go home!” He stared in panic at Jake. “They won’t want me! I broke the warrior code when I left my Clan. They’ll drive me away again!” — On the one hand: I understand that his fear of being driven away/not being accepted stems from like, 90% of the interactions in this book. But also: THEY LET YOU LEAVE, everyone agreed! Nobody drove you out!" S: Talltail: "I'll go if I must, I understand, you need me to leave--" The rest of the clan: "uhh dude you said you wanted to go." S: Makes me think of people who get really pissed when they're like "I said I'm fine, why didn't you ask me more about how I was feeling because I was clearly Not Fine and Lying to you." S:  And it's like... I trusted you to tell me the truth. Don't play stupid games. K: Yeah! Like, if you want to be consoled or helped, be honest! I can't read your mind!

S: Palebird is just a full on mess in this book, huh? And it's really unsatisfactorily handled.  S: Sandgorse gets obsessed over for... the entire book. Palebird, equally bad parent, doesn't really get any kind of meaningful resolution with Talltail. K:  I misread when Talltail first brings the kids into camp, and fully thought that Palebird recognized Talltail and chose to ignore him in favour of her kits. That sadly isn't actually far off from what happens when she does recognize him. K:   He just goes "oh she died and in my leader ceremony she makes me feel like she always loved me and i never should have doubted her" S: I was so furious that her bit was like "a mother's love for her kits" and he's like, oh I can't believe how stupid I was for doubting her. S: She abused you, dude. S:  Being like, "lol jk" after she's dead counts for Nothing. K: It’s awful.  S: "I always loved you," said Palebird. "I just never wanted to interact with you at all when I was alive and I attached all my grief and trauma to your existence, which made it impossible to enjoy time around you, and I never even bothered to get help for myself or you, and I was happiest when you weren't in my life and I could focus on my other family. So I guess I didn't actually love you. I just felt like I probably should have, but oh well." S: I am as angry about her as I am about Sandgorse. K:   Yeah, she just somehow gets a free pass because "that's just how moms are!" -Erin S:  "Mums can say they love you and you have to believe them." K:  What kind of mother did you have/are you to your kids, @the Erins collective. I want to know. S: I KNOW K: Like, please answer for science. K:  I KNOW WE'VE ROASTED SANDGORSE THIS ENTIRE TIME BUT K:  THE NOTES S:  GET HIM S:  GET HIS ARSE K:  “I give you this life for forgiveness. No death need ever be avenged. Forgiveness brings peace far more surely than vengeance.” Talltail felt his ruffled fur smooth, his claws retract into his pads, his breath come steadily. Mercy was his, and always would be. “I’m sorry you had to learn the hard way, Tallstar,” Sandgorse meowed. — HAVE YOU EVER WANTED TO MURDER A FICTIONAL CAT S:  YES YES YES YES S:  I was literally about to grab the same note. K:  "im sorry you had to learn the hard way" WHOSE FUCKING FAULT WAS THAT S:  “I give you this life for forgiveness. No death need ever be avenged. Forgiveness brings peace far more surely than vengeance.” It is a fatal mistake to conflate forgiveness with pacifism. K:  It's just. K:  Like I knew it was going to be awful, I knew this moment was going to happen, but just to see it and see the phrasing. K:  "I'm sorry you had to learn the hard way" is just the ultimate slap in the face. You abused and abandoned and neglected this kid. You did this. You were a ghost for 70% of the book and could have told your son that you "died a hero" and stopped him from being an absolute asshole. YOU DID THIS. S:  What peeves me is that I personally believe forgiveness is something you have to do for yourself, and not for other people. A lot of the time, bad people in your life won't ask for your forgiveness and don't deserve it. K: Yes!  Forgivesness isn't earned, forgivesness is given. K:  It's up to you to give people that forgiveness on your own terms, whenever and however you choose. And if you go "I'm not giving this to you" you don't have to! It's for you! It's your choice! S: But all your anger and hate and misery inside will burn you out like acid, so sometimes you need to go, "you're never going to earn my forgiveness, but I am choosing to forgive what you did so I can move on with my life and grow." S: It's why "forgive but don't forget" is a good thing to remember. You can let go of self-harmful anger without ever losing the lesson that person taught you, which was stay the hell away from people like that. S: That's the conversation I want to see happen around forgiveness in this story. K:  Talltail deserves so much better than any of the story we were given. K:  And like. Forgiveness through that specific lens is so compelling. S:  I know. It's something I'm deeply invested and interested in.  K:  It's so engaging, and relatable! It's messy and nuanced and full of a lot of good shit. S:  Yeah, like, and what happens when the person you resent or distrust tries to make efforts to atone, but they always fall a little short, or don't grow the way you need them to?  How do you forgive that, but still choose to walk away, knowing that in their narrative, you're the bad guy? K:  It's hard.  Knowing that they see you as the bad guy is like, the fucking toughest.  s:  It's extremely hard and I think there's so much space in this story for that exploration. K:  It makes it so easy to want to go back in for seconds and explain yourself to try and get them to understand you, even when you know that like, they're not going to and never will.  And it'll just hurt you more to try than to move on and be a better you for it. S: And being able to forgive yourself is I think a massive underrated lesson. K: Yes! It's beyond hard to try and be gentle with yourself and have compassion for yourself sometimes, especially regarding a messy scenario like these. S: I mean, all of this is way out of Erin Hunter's range, but like, ugh. What could have been. K: Yeah, absolutely. K:  Also I'm always here for young upset queer kids growing up to become Better & Cooler & Sexier than you, so don't try any shit dad, S: Anyway! That's it! We did it! K:  Yeah! S:  Honestly this is such a dumb book but it always feels like an accomplishment to get through another Book Club with you. K:  I agree. K: <3 S: <3

[expectingtofly]

Take a Load Off

2.5k

fluff, post-canon, human!cas, anxious dean, established dean/cas

(i saw this post by @emptymeg and couldn’t get it out of my head, so here’s a fic :)

also posted on ao3

“What’s in the box?” Dean asked, coming into the library to see Cas setting a large package on the map table with a huff. The table creaked under its weight. “Hey, name that movie.”

Cas cocked his head. “What movie?”

Dean groaned. “Seriously, dude, you’re hopeless. What’s in the box! Brad Pitt?” Cas shrugged and Dean sighed. “Forget it.”

“If it makes you feel better,” Cas said, fetching scissors from a drawer, “This box is for you. I bought you something.”

“Oh?” Dean came to the table, interest even more piqued. “What kind of something?”

Cas gave him a look. “Not what you’re thinking.” He cut through the tape securing the box. “I read that this can relieve stress and help you sleep better.”

“I already know something that can do that.” He added a wink for good measure.

“So,” Cas continued, ignoring him, “I thought you should try it. You haven’t been getting enough sleep lately and I’m worried about your anxiety levels.”

“Wait a moment,” Dean protested. “What do you mean, my ‘anxiety levels’?” Cas opened the box and he leaned over to look at the contents. Folded, silky dark grey fabric. “What is that, a blanket?”

“A weighted blanket,” Cas corrected, heaving it out of the box. “Twenty pounds.”

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.” He plucked at the fabric. “This is supposed to help?"

“It’s proven by science.” He nodded at a chair by Dean. “Go, sit.”

Rolling his eyes, Dean sat down and Cas draped the blanket over him. “Fuck.” Dean lifted his arms up under the blanket, then dropped them. “This is actually heavy.”

“Do you feel relaxed?”

“I feel ridiculous.”

“You don’t look it at all,” Cas deadpanned and Dean kicked at him. Cas pulled a brochure out of the box. “Soft cotton filled with poly pellets,” he read. “Alleviate anxiety and increase serotonin.” He studied Dean, eyes squinted. “You still look tense.”

“Sorry, Cas.” Dean shoved the blanket to the floor with a thump. “Think you got duped.”

“You’re not doing it right,” Cas grumbled, picking it up off the ground. “You have to give it a chance.”

“I just gave it a chance.” Standing, he brushed Cas’ hair off his forehead, gave him his best you love me smile. “Now, do you really wanna help me relax?”

Cas studied him for a long moment, then said, “Okay.” He carefully folded the blanket. “We’re keeping this, though. I still think it’ll work.”

Dean made a face behind his back and started to follow him out of the room, but the phone Sam had recently installed in the library for a hunter hotline started ringing. He groaned and Cas hesitated in the doorway.

“Do I have to?” Dean asked him.

“I suppose so,” Cas sighed and set the blanket down on a chair. Turns out the call was from a hunter out near Boise who needed help with a case. Of course, Sam was away visiting Eileen, so he and Cas got stuck spending the next two hours going over the case information, trying to figure out what the monster was. They finally settled on vetala, a whole pack of them, and after instructing the hunter on how to kill them, Dean hung up the phone.

“Fuck,” he swore, rubbing at his eyes. “Who knows how big the pack is. Could be a whole dozen of the freaks.”

“Well, now she knows how to kill them,” Cas said. “And there’s other hunters in the area who can help.”

“Yeah...” Dean fiddled with his pen, tapping it on the open pages of his dad’s journal.

“What’s wrong?” Cas asked.

Dean realized he was frowning. “Nothing.” Flexing his shoulders, he stretched out his back, stiff from poring over books. “Just, three people are already dead. I better be right that it’s a pack of vetala.”

Reaching over, Cas rubbed his back in small circles and Dean leaned back into his hand. “We did all we could, Dean.”

Dean wasn’t so sure that was true. But, short of driving all night out to Boise, he supposed there wasn’t much else they could do. Still, he didn’t like the idea that he might’ve missed a clue, might’ve misled the hunter. He clicked his pen again and again, going over the case in his mind, worst case scenarios—

“Are you going to sleep now?” Cas asked, and Dean glanced at him.

“No.” Dropping the pen, he pushed his chair back and got to his feet. “Don’t think I can now.”

“Would you say you’re feeling stressed? Anxious, perhaps?” Cas deliberately looked to his right and Dean followed his gaze to the weighted blanket folded on a chair.

“Dude, don’t even start.”

“You should use it,” Cas urged. “There’s no shame in feeling anxious, I often feel the same way too.”

“I’ve dealt with worse before, this is nothing new. Just comes with the job.”

Cas sighed. “You put too much on your shoulders.”

Dean shrugged. “Like I said, comes with the job.” If he wasn’t always on edge, he figured he was doing things wrong. Get too comfortable and bad things happened. Just the way it was.

“Still, you can admit you need a break.”

“Jeez, Cas, I’m wounded.” Dean pressed a hand to his chest. “It’s like you don’t even know me.”

Cas rolled his eyes and stood. “Don’t stay up too late.” He seemed to hesitate, fighting against saying more, and Dean said,

“I’m fine, Cas, really.”

“Okay.” Cas didn’t look too convinced, but he kissed Dean goodnight and headed off to their bedroom.

Dean cleaned up the mess of books and papers on the table, turned off the lamps just to do something with his hands. Normally, this is when he’d grab a drink, try to calm his head, but he’d been trying to cut back lately—blame Cas’ concern for his liver—so instead he decided to head to the Dean Cave. Maybe a few episodes of Dr. Sexy would distract himself enough to sleep.

Leaving the room, his eyes fell on the weighted blanket again. Cas and his ridiculous ideas. If Dean hadn’t been sleeping too well lately, that was just the result of living their kind of life. Nothing to do about it. Ignore the stress or end up drowning in it, that was his motto.

(And a horrible coping method, according to Sam and Cas)

Either way, lying under twenty pounds of “cotton and poly pellets” wasn’t going to help. Though the blanket had been really soft, he’d give it that.

He forgot all about it the following day, though, when Sam found a case a few towns over, and Dean and Cas drove over to meet him there. Disturbed gravesites, people disappearing near the cemetery at night. A ghoul, by all signs. A day of morgue visits and interviewing witnesses, then another two days of sitting parked in the cemetery, waiting for the ghoul to emerge again and feed. Dean was almost happy to see the thing when it crawled out of its grave. Almost.

Killing the damn thing hadn’t been too easy. But after inadvertently destroying a few gravestones, nearly falling into an open grave, and narrowly avoiding losing a few limbs, they finally bashed the ghoul’s brains in thoroughly, and split up from the cemetery. Dean went to speak to the latest victim’s mother while Cas and Sam got rid of the remains.

Returning to the bunker first, Dean showered, blood and ghoul remains washing away down the drain. But even the warm water couldn’t ease the jitteriness sitting high in his chest. The ghoul had been strong, fast, and Dean’s heart had leapt into his throat when it got a hold of Sam. Even Cas had struggled to stop the thing, gunshots only serving to anger the son of a bitch more.

Getting out of the shower, he scrubbed himself dry with his towel, inspected a cut along his arm. Not deep enough for stitches. If Sam had avoided a concussion, they were lucky. The ghoul was dead, at least. Left a dozen ruined graves and a few torn apart teenagers in its wake, but dead.

As he changed into clean clothes, he heard the bunker door open. “All good?” he asked, entering the war room to find Sam and Cas setting down their bags.

“If you mean will the trunk always reek like ghoul, then yes,” Sam said. He grimaced as he took off his boots, muddy footprints already leaving a trail down the bunker stairs. Then he glanced at his phone and smiled, said, “Eileen’s calling.”

“Whipped,” Dean mouthed at him as Sam answered his phone, smiling at the screen and walking off down the hallway. “Well,” he told Cas, ”you look like shit.”

Cas gave him his best, I can smite you even without my grace look. “Charming.” He headed off down the hallway towards their bedroom and Dean followed. “How did Mrs. Landis take the news?”

Dean sucked in a breath. “Uh, 'bout how you'd expect, I guess. Told her a bear had gotten to her son, but it was all taken care of now. Not much else to say.”

The mother had sobbed and thanked him. He’d done a piss poor job of comforting her and left with an all-too-familiar sick feeling in his stomach; they hadn’t done enough, they could never save everyone.

“And you?” Cas asked, pulling him from his thoughts. He glanced at Dean as he pushed open the door to their bedroom. “Are you alright?”

Dean started to nod, say fine, but he knew Cas would see straight through the lie. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he shrugged, dropping his hands into his lap. “Just shook up. Coulda been a bad one.”

Cas nodded as he pulled off his trenchcoat, the edges bloody and muddy. “We’re all safe. You don’t have to torture yourself thinking about what could’ve happened.”

Dean shut his eyes, took a deep breath. “I know.” Easier said than done.

He heard Cas’s footsteps, then felt Cas’ fingers on his cheek and tilted his head into his palm. Breathed in and out. Cas smelled like blood and guts and sweat, not a particularly pleasant combination, but his hand was warm and his other hand was carding through his hair and, shit, that felt nice.

“Go to sleep,” Cas said quietly. “You need rest.”

Dean nodded and Cas kissed the top of his head. He left to take a shower and Dean scrubbed his hands over his face.

Fuck, this hunt had been a close one. Closer than they’d had in a long time.

Dropping his hands, his eyes settled on the weighted blanket that Cas had left folded on the chair at the desk, a silent plea for him to use it. He rolled his eyes. Anxious, his ass.

He started to pull the covers back on the bed, but the thought of lying down with the hunt running on repeat through his head was less than appealing. Cas’ trenchcoat hung bloody on the wall, and Dean clenched his hands into fists to stop them from shaking, adrenaline and nerves still rushing through him.

Alright, maybe a little anxious.

With a glance at the door to convince himself Cas would be in the shower for a little while longer, he grabbed the blanket, brought it to their bed.

Getting under the covers, he draped the blanket over himself and lay down, shifting to get comfortable. Once settled, he stared up at the ceiling and waited for the miracle blanket to work its wonders. How much money had Cas spent on this shit? He really had to hide the credit cards.

He shifted again, the mattress creaking, and dropped back with a huff. Not that he didn’t appreciate Cas trying to help, but a twenty-pound blanket wasn’t what he needed. What he needed was a full night of sleep and a blow job and an all-expenses-paid trip to Cancún. His nose was itchy, his knee was bruised, his back was fucked up from getting thrown against a gravestone, Sam had already found another case in Albuquerque, and, fuck, he was just so damn tired.

Shutting his eyes, he forced himself to breathe through the sensation of his chest tightening. He could feel the blanket rise and fall with every deliberate breath, and he counted like Sam had taught him years ago when he’d woken with a panic attack—breathe in for seven seconds, hold for four, let out for eight.

Don’t think about what could’ve happened. We’re all safe. Cas is safe, Sam is safe. I’m safe.

His heartbeat slowly settled. The blanket’s weight was strangely comforting, warm, trapping him under the covers. Forced to stay still, he felt his limbs slowly relax into the mattress, the tenseness in his shoulders dissipating, his back easing and hands curling loosely along the sheets.

Okay. Shit. Maybe there was something to this weighted blanket thing. His mind grew hazier as his thoughts began to wander, and he found himself drifting off to sleep when the bedroom door creaked open and startled his eyes open.

“You’re using it,” Cas whispered excitedly, standing in the doorway. “Are you relaxed?”

“Fuck off,” Dean told him. He would’ve flipped him off, but that would require lifting his hand out from under the blanket and he was too—dammit, Cas was right—relaxed to move.

“I knew it would be perfect,” Cas said, sounding too triumphant. Shutting the door softly, he got into bed next to him—well, tried to. He shoved at the blanket encroaching on his side of the bed. “Dean, move over.”

“Nope.” Dean shut his eyes again. “Reap what you have sown.”

Grumbling, Cas turned off the light and got under the covers with more rustling and movement than necessary. Finally, he settled down. The bunker hummed, the heating running, the pipes in the walls creaking as a shower turned on down the hallway. The blanket heavy on top of him, Dean began to fall asleep again.

“Are you really gonna keep that on all night?” Cas asked, disturbing the quiet.

“Yup.”

Cas huffed and Dean could only keep up the ruse for a few more seconds before lifting the edge of the blanket. “Come on, get under.”

Sliding over, Cas got underneath, and they laid side by side, pressed against each other. Their fingers brushed, and Dean crooked a finger around Cas’ thumb.

“This is nice,” Cas commented, voice quiet. “I’m glad it’s helping.”

“Mhm.” He was starting to think he should’ve bought one of these things a long time ago. He hadn’t realized how strung out he was before until now, all the tension in his body slipping away.

Cas shifted onto his side and Dean blinked open his eyes to look at him. “I guess I was right all along, wasn’t I?”

“Don’t push it.” He caught Cas’ smile in the dark and elbowed him on principle before shifting over to kiss him. Then he tugged at Cas’ arm and turned onto his side, prompting Cas to press close against his back and wrap an arm around him.

He smiled, eyes falling shut at the warm press of the blanket and Cas’ body around his. Now he was relaxed.

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[kindahoping4forever]

When The Sun Came Up, You Were Looking At Me (Part Two) // Ashton Irwin

Thank you to everyone who has been reading this series so far - @cal-puddies​​ and I are having such a blast reading all of your comments and tags! Keep ‘em coming! (I’m especially curious to see the reaction to this installment. That’s all I’ll say for now.)

If you missed any previous chapters, you can find them all on the series masterlist linked below. And don’t forget we’re alternating posting duties so the story concludes tomorrow over on Cass’s blog! 

Warnings: Tension, teasing, tenderness. Alcohol, angst, arguments as foreplay. Scenes including female masturbation, rough, unprotected sex, bondage, spanking, manual stimulation of a female, male oral sex, hints of cum play and some general dom!Ash vibes.

Word Count: 7705

Cass & Crystal’s Masterlist  // Series Masterlist

Let  us  know  what  you  think!

Ashton lets out a deep sigh as his alarm goes off. He tossed and turned all night and during the fleeting moments where he did sleep, the sounds he heard you making through his bedroom door last night invaded each and every one of his dreams.

He groans at the realization he’s so hard he can barely think straight. He doesn’t know how to process any of this without coffee so he meditates for a bit, attempting to will his body to calm down enough for him to head to the kitchen. He enters the room and rolls his eyes; the sight of you once again wearing that absurdly thin nightgown certainly doesn’t do his situation any favors.

You busy yourself at the counter as he approaches, not ready to deal with what happened last night. You were up all night thinking about it. Does he know you heard him? Did he hear you? As you move around each other, you avoid his eyes, afraid he’ll somehow detect the depraved things you dreamt about still lingering in your mind.

He reaches for the bag of coffee and doesn’t even realize he’s pressed himself against you until he hears the half gasp, half moan that falls from your lips. You drop the fork you’re holding and grip the counter, breathing heavy. Without thinking about it too much, he presses his lips to the spot below your ear, letting out a low groan as you jut your ass out to grind against him. You turn around to look him in the eye and there’s a silent agreement before he helps you hop up on the counter.

He reaches to pull your panties off and smirks when he realizes you aren’t wearing any. He tugs his shorts down and doesn’t even wait a beat before he pushes into you.

“Fuck, Irwin,” you moan, wrapping your arm around him, pulling him in so you can suck on his neck. His hands grip your thighs tight as he starts to pound into you, with little regard for whether or not you're ready. You love it, this was one of your favorite ways to be had by him: hard, fast and with no conversation.

Ashton's hands move around to your ass, pulling you closer, driving his hips harder against yours. He’s quiet, seemingly focused on getting off as quickly as possible, while your whines start pouring out quickly and loudly. He’s stretching you just the way you like, hitting the exact spot you need. It’s rough, it’s dirty, it’s Ash. You don’t ask for more because you don’t have to.

His soft grunts egg you on, quickly bringing you closer to climax. Your fingers dig into his skin as you whimper and squeeze around him. He lets you finish, waits for your grip to relax on his body before he pulls out.

He works his hand briskly over his cock and you rush to pull your nightgown over your head, not wanting to get cum on it; he aims for your stomach and chest as he finishes with a groan. He grips the counter on either side of you, boxing you in again, letting the hotness of his breath fan across your skin. He lets his cock soften up before he puts it away and when you reach for a paper towel to clean yourself up with, he leaves the kitchen without a word.

“Fuck… he didn’t make coffee,” you murmur to yourself. You decide you need to get out of the house before you do anything else you might regret; you take your breakfast upstairs and quickly eat while you get dressed.

You head into town, finding a coffee shop and some nearby stores to wander around. You try your best to clear your mind of his sounds from the night before, to not think about the way he just knew how to primally fuck you a few hours ago. But you can still practically feel him against you, his hands wrapped around your thighs.

You breathe a sigh of relief when you return to discover Ash finally left for his run; you make a drink to have while you relax by the pool, where you’ll likely spend the rest of your day.

When he gets back a while later, he passes the kitchen and watches you puttering around, getting ready to make another drink, noticing the way your bikini rides up to show off your ass. It takes everything in him to not walk over and smack it. Instead he changes clothes and heads outside, jumping into the pool.

By the time you’re settling back in your chair, he’s done swimming laps. He gets out in front of you, shaking out his curls, sending water flying everywhere, including on you.

“Ash!” You squeal, covering your glass with your hand.

He shrugs and drags his chair into the sun, collapsing in it to rest. “How many is that?” He asks, gesturing at your drink.

You scowl. “Sorry, I forgot where it was your business how much I drink.”

“Just wanna make sure you don’t drown… can’t have that on my conscience.”

You roll your eyes and carry on ignoring him until finally the sun gets too hot and you have to get in the water. You abandoned your latest drink to appease him but he's still watching you like a hawk.

You grumble as he jumps in the pool after you. “What’s your deal?”

“It’s hot, that’s all,” he replies before splashing you. “Relax, grump. How could you be upset? It’s a beautiful day, you got to cum this morning, you’re at this great house with a nice pool and an even nicer guy…”

“You know ‘nice’ isn’t my chosen descriptor of you,” you tease, splashing him back.

“Oh right… you prefer ‘asshole’,” he grins, swimming over to where you are.

“Well, your self awareness has certainly improved since we split.”

“So has your ability to handle your alcohol,” he bites back, playfully.

“Just trying not to hurt anyone’s feelings. Sierra said to be nice.”

“Literally the only time in your adult life you’ve ever done something that was asked of you.” He swims closer and you retreat back against the pool wall.

“That’s not true. I used to do what you asked in bed all the time,” you smirk, thinking you bested him.

Ashton licks his lips while looking at yours, arms settling on the wall above you. “In your own way, sometimes, you’d do as you were asked, but let’s not get carried away with ‘all the time’.”

“What can I say, I have a mind of my own,” you lilt, watching his tongue dart out to wet his pink lips.

Suddenly you can’t stop yourself. You pull him in and press your lips to his. He scoops one arm behind your back, pulling you flush against him, deepening the kiss. His tongue is exploring your mouth and he’s nibbling on your lip when you finally realize what’s happening and push him away, giving yourself space to breathe. Both of your chests are heaving as you stare at each other for a minute before you turn and lift yourself out of the pool.

You wrap the towel around your body and grab your things. You turn to look at him again, still stunned in the pool, and you quickly run to your room. You can’t believe you were stupid enough to kiss Ash, can’t believe it still drives you wild. Your head is spinning and you’re not sure if it’s from his tongue or from the alcohol; either way, you decide it’s best to sleep it off. You change out of your swimsuit and curl up on the bed.

You wake up a while later, your mind still clouded by Ashton. You decide to shower and wash the day off; the last 24 hours were filled with him and hopefully it'll rinse him away too. You undress in front of the mirror and notice bruises his fingers left on you this morning, reminding you just how untouched you’ve been since the breakup. You stand underneath the shower head and try to focus on cleaning yourself, or literally anything other than how you used to shower with Ashton, but it’s not working.

You think about his large hands rubbing soap over your body, paying extra attention to your tits, the way he’d press himself against you when first getting in with you. The way he’d make you laugh while kissing on your neck or massaging your head when he’d wash your hair.

Your mind betrays you further as you remember the times he’d push your chest against the wall and take you from behind, holding you there until he had pumped you full of cum. Afterwards, he’d help you clean up, watching in fascination as his cum ran down your legs and towards the drain.

Before you know it, your fingers are on your clit, your other hand working over your tits, tugging your nipples. But the orgasm doesn’t come. You get close but your mind keeps reminding you that Ashton is in the house and he can do it so much better if you let him.

“Fuck,” you groan, hitting the wall. You get out of the shower and toss a robe over your shoulders, loosely tying it as you practically fly across the house to Ashton’s room. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed with the door open and notices you immediately. You quickly close the distance, straddling him and pulling him into a kiss.

He pulls away and tries to ask a question but you hold your finger to his lips. “I was in the shower and I couldn’t stop thinking about you… your hands on my skin, the way you’d have me against the wall. Why take care of something myself when I could very easily have you do it?”

You go back in, kissing his neck. His fingers tighten on your hips and you feel him start to get hard. You slot your lips back with his, deepening the kiss until he’s grinding your hips down on him. Without hesitation, you ask with heavy breath, “Quick question: what were you thinking about last night?”

“What do you mean?”

“When you were getting off last night?” You ask, pressing kisses to his jaw.

“Oh, you mean when you were listening and also getting off?” He lets out a filthy laugh. “Tying your ass to the bed and having my way with you like I used to.”

“Please, Ash,” you breathe in his ear.

“My cock in your throat, you choking on it,” he continues and feels you shudder, a slight moan rumbling in your throat. “I don’t have the patience for that right now and judging by the way you’re soaking through my shorts, you don’t either. So… guess I’ll just tie you up.”

He hungrily kisses you before grabbing your hips and lifting you off of him; he goes to the closet and pulls some bed ties out of his backpack. He struts back over to you and you lick your lips while staring at his hard on.

“Don’t get any bright ideas,” he warns. He pulls the tie on your robe to reveal your naked body and then gets you settled on the bed. He grabs your wrists and ties them together before securing them to the bed. He grins down at you and runs his fingers over your exposed skin.

When he starts to move on, you clear your throat, “You’re not going to finish this?” You ask, kicking your legs.

“Thought you’d behave since you want it so bad,” Ash mocks, sliding his fingers through your wetness. “But if you insist.”

You grin while he does it, enjoying the feeling of his hands all over you. He pulls his shorts off and kneels on the bed between your thighs. “To have you like this again… just a fuckin’ wet mess for me, huh?” He murmurs, rubbing soft circles over your clit with both thumbs.

“Yeah… yes.” You toss your head back at the feeling.

“Yes what?” He asks, smacking his hand over your pussy.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, you haven’t forgotten.”

He sinks his cock all the way into you and before you can fully enjoy it, he pulls his hips back and snaps them roughly into you again. Once he sets his brutal pace, his hands are everywhere: your thighs, your nipples, your throat, touching and teasing you the way you love, the way only he can. He grabs a handful of hair, pulling your head back; his teeth trace along your skin until his lips are at your ear. “Such a dirty fuckin’ Princess, aren’t you?” He asks, thrusting particularly hard. “So good for me though... pussy fits me so perfectly.”

Ashton pushes himself back up, taking full advantage of having you tied up for him: groping you, holding your hips as he pounds into you, smacking your thighs, leaving handprints on you. Every little thing he does works to push you towards the edge.

He feels you getting close and he smirks down at you darkly. “Already, Princess?” He teases, thrusting harder than you can ever remember him doing before, knocking your head into the headboard.

“Ash... Ash… sir… fuck fuck fuck.” You moan, pulsing around him, finally getting the release you wanted.

“Feel good, Princess?” He asks, slowing down. He feels your legs squeeze, trying to push him away a little but he continues even slower, giving you long strokes.

“Ash… fuckin’ hell…” you whine.

“You’re OK, Princess, you’ve taken more,” he soothes. “I’m almost there.”

“Cum for me… cum in me.” You pant, desperately. “I need it.”

He scoffs. “I don’t think so, Princess.” He pulls out and starts handling his cock, quickly sliding his hand over the shaft, letting out a loud groan as he sprays your torso with cum for a second time today.

He sits back on his heels a moment, catching his breath. He kisses you before untying your hands and gently rubbing your wrists. He does the same to your ankles and disappears into the bathroom.

He comes back with a washcloth and kneels over you to clean his cum off your body; you eye him, trying to get a read on the tone of the room. “I said cum in instead of on me because I just took a shower, asshole,” you comment with a twinkle in your eye, taking your chances that he’ll know you’re teasing.

Ashton has no problem catching your tone and matches it with a smirk. “Funny how I remember you saying you needed it,” he responds smugly, tossing the washcloth onto the nightstand and pulling on his shorts.

“Probably couldn’t hear me over the sound of the headboard obliterating that wall.” You sit up to tie your robe tight around your body, feeling unusually exposed now that the moment has passed.

He shrugs, laughing. “This is all on our friends’ dime, let them worry about the damages.”

Ash sits next to you on the bed and the two of you joke back and forth about the destructive sexcapades you could engage in just to rack up the cost of the rental as punishment for your friends’ meddling; your laughter mixes with his in a way it hasn’t in a long time and things feel calm for the first time today.

You absentmindedly rub your fingers over the slight indentation grooves on your wrist from the ties and he notices, grabbing your arm to inspect. “Oh, that’s nothing compared to the marks your hands left on me this morning,” you insist, pulling your arm back gently. You recognize genuine concern on his face instead of the arrogance you expected, so you backtrack a little. “I’m fine, Ash, relax… Why’d you have those things with you for a ‘writing session’ anyways? Planned on finally sealing the deal with Cal?” You joke, trying to lighten the mood and change the subject.

Ash snorts. “Last time the band stayed here, the night life wasn’t too bad,” he shrugs.

It takes a beat for it to click what he’s implying. “Oh… so… you’re upset about us enough that you need to come out here to write through our anniversary but not too upset to tie up some townies while you’re here?” You accuse, voice dripping with what you hope is enough judgement to mask your hurt.

He sighs loudly, running his hands through his hair. “Because it’s so much healthier for us to just emotionlessly fuck each other this week.”

“Good, glad we can both agree that this means nothing,” you snap, launching yourself off the bed and slamming the door behind you.

Ashton stares at the closed door, head spinning from how fast that went south. Part of him wishes he hadn’t been honest with you, said he’d forgotten those ties were in his backpack, spared your feelings, maybe even asked you to stay the night. But part of him wonders why he even cares about your feelings at all anymore.

He lays back on the bed, contemplating things. You’ve made it obvious day after day that you’re not interested in addressing what went wrong between you and up until he heard you moaning outside his door last night, he was convinced you didn’t want anything to do with him at all. If sex is all you want this week... well, he’s not going to deny he’s interested but he’s not sure if he can set aside how much he misses you. All of you.

The more he thinks about the situation, the more exasperated he gets; before he has the chance to talk himself out of it, he grabs his phone and dials Sierra. Her cautious “Hello?” is barely finished when he starts going in. “I know you think you’re doing us a favor here but you really crossed a goddamn line with this one,” he snarls.

She exhales loudly. “What are you talking about, Ashton?”

“This was none of your business! This was not your job to fix this and even if it was, this was a piss poor way of going about it,” he rants. She starts to interject but he cuts her off. “This isn’t a prank, this isn’t a social experiment, this isn’t even a cute story that gets told at weddings, this is real people who have real emotions being toyed with by a so-called friend.”

“I am your friend, Ash,” she says quietly.

“Friends don’t play god like this, Sierra.”

She sighs, used to Ash’s valid complaints being muddied by his self-righteousness. “Listen, I understand you’re upset and believe it or not, I didn’t love having to lie to get you two in the same place so I am sorry for that. But think about it from our perspective for a second? Notice I’m saying our because we were all in on it,” she points out. “We have the advantage - the heartbreaking, annoying advantage - of seeing this from both sides. We wouldn’t have done this if we thought you guys would get hurt, if we didn’t think good would come of it.”

In an unusually small voice, Ashton says pitifully, “She hates me, S.”

“You know how she is, she’s afraid if she lets you know how much she cares, she’ll get taken advantage of. You used to be the same way, dude.”

Quietly, he thinks out loud, “But if I’ve changed and she hasn’t… maybe we’re not compatible anymore.”

“I mean… that seems like a conversation you should have with her, Ash,” Sierra offers gently. “You just need to find a way to get through to our ice princess. But trust me, without giving up privileged information, I can tell you that what each of you are going through is really not that different.”

“Tell Luke he’s a rat for giving you intel,” he jokes, wanting to change the subject because he knows she’s right.

“Well at least that takes some of the heat off me,” she laughs. “And Ash? I love you guys but I’m blocking you both for the rest of the week - you have got to talk to each other and stop using me as a sounding board.”

He hangs his head in defeat. “That’s fair,” he admits.

“And everyone else knows to do the same,” she continues.

“Got it.”

The line beeps and Sierra cackles loudly. “Well. I guess I’m about to give an encore of this speech because guess who’s sent me 5 texts and is now calling me?”

Ashton laughs in bitter amusement. “Whatever she says I did, she did it first,” he says half-joking.

“See you when you get back, buddy. It’s gonna be alright,” she reassures him and then with a click, she’s gone.

You wake up once again feeling remorseful for how you acted the night before; you don’t regret going to Ash’s room specifically for sex - you could find dozens of reasons to justify that in your mind - but you know you shouldn’t have blown up at him afterwards like you did.

You hadn’t been with anyone since the breakup and Luke had let it slip weeks ago that Ash hadn’t either. So what if he had planned on blowing off steam with randoms when he thought he’d be here with the guys? Just because you’re taking it slow doesn’t mean he has to as well. You had no right to be hurt by this information because he’s not yours anymore; after months of reminding yourself that, you’d think you would’ve gotten used to the idea by now.

You figure he’s probably not ready to talk to you yet so you decide to show you’re sorry in smaller ways; you can tell he hasn’t been in the kitchen so you make coffee to the best of your ability and cut up some fruit for yourself, making up a small bowl for him, figuring he can either eat it or throw it into the juicer again.

You don’t want to drive yourself crazy waiting for him to come out of his room and you don’t want him to find you in the pool and misinterpret it as thirst trapping again so you go out for a light jog. It’s a good way to pass the time and although the quiet gives your mind a few too many opportunities to consider how Ash’s hands felt on you last night, you ultimately feel better when you return to the house.

You stop by the kitchen to refill your water bottle and while you can tell he’s definitely been in there, both the coffee and fruit you left for him are untouched. You shrug and peek outside where you see him reading by the pool, with a cup of coffee and breakfast sandwich he’d clearly had delivered. You roll your eyes a bit but resolve to be a good sport and poke your head out the door, tapping quietly on it to get his attention, and wave kindly. He looks you up and down in your sports bra and tiny running shorts and gives you the minimal greeting of a head nod before returning to his book. You feel like you can count that as a win under the circumstances.

Ashton watches you through the glass doors as you flutter around the living room before heading upstairs. He knows ordering in was bordering on petty but after his conversation with Sierra, he decided the best approach was to freeze you out until you decided if and when you wanted to come to him; things would be back on your terms and maybe you’d feel comfortable enough that progress could be made. He wishes these games weren’t necessary to get you to share your feelings but he respects the fundamental role they play in your relationship and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t miss them.

Your afternoon drags without any attention from Ash and you hate admitting how much you miss him. You busy yourself any way you can: showering, napping, you even answer a few work emails on your phone because you’re so bored. You hear him in the pool at one point and you sneak a few peeks out the window, just to see if he looks as good as you imagine.

Evening rolls around and you tell yourself you’re heading out to investigate your dinner options but really you’re hoping to see what Ash is up to. You find him shirtless on the couch, half paying attention to the TV, half paying attention to whatever is on his phone. You pass through to the kitchen as loudly as you can, hoping he’ll look up but he never does.

You slam every drawer and cabinet in the kitchen and he still seems unphased; you stand in the entryway of the living room and ask him if he’s hungry. You get a shrug in response and it both infuriates and excites you. If there’s anything you love more than being given his attention, it’s having to work for it.

You take a seat in the chair across from him and wait for him to acknowledge you; of course, he doesn’t. “Thinking about getting pizza, you interested?” You toss out, bracing for him to be irritated that you have a house full of groceries and still want to order in.

“Whatever you think,” he says flatly, eyes glued to his phone.

You read him the list of possible pizza toppings, trying to force even the smallest crack in his resolve; you only get a “Sure, whatever” and he turns up the TV.

You grit your teeth. “Do you want me to just let you starve since you’re mad at me?” You snipe. You see his jaw clench and for a second you’re almost sure he’s going to jab back at you. Your heart is beating so hard you wouldn’t be surprised if it was visible through the very tight, very thin shirt you intentionally put on before you came out here.

Instead of fighting back, he evenly says, “Not mad, just bored.”

The last 24 hours had been anything but boring so you’re not sure what to do with that statement. You try a different approach. “Well if you expect me to apologize for last night, you’re in for a long wait,” you say combatively.

Ashton’s eyes shift and for a second you think you may have finally won a glance from him but he’s now focused on the TV.  “I stopped expecting things from you even before we broke up,” he retorts.

That remark stings a little but at least you’re getting him to engage with you now, you can work with this. Once upon a time this banter was your foreplay and judging by the way he’s been absentmindedly licking his lips since you sat down, it still might be.

“So then you didn’t expect me to go to your room last night?”

He doesn’t even flinch at your question. “Did it surprise me that you were still needy even after I gave you my cock earlier in the day? No, you’ve always been like that.” His voice drips with disdain and you feel yourself involuntarily clench. “Didn’t expect you to be willing to admit it, though. Must’ve been pretty desperate.”

You get out of your chair and stand directly in front of him, blocking the TV, willing him to look at you. He remains nonplussed and goes back to his phone; a combination of desire to win this game and desire for him overwhelms your senses and you impulsively drop to your knees.

The way he’s manspread on the couch is annoying but convenient for the situation. You keep your eyes trained on his face as you slowly rub up and down his thighs a few times before running your hand over his crotch. His face continues to feign disinterest but his cock tells another story; he was clearly starting to get turned on from your bickering and you feel him hardening more as you stroke and squeeze him through his shorts.

You tug at his waistband and Ashton remains silent but lifts up to help you take his shorts down. Wasting no time, you push his half-hard cock up against his stomach with a plop and swirl your tongue around his balls before licking a stripe along the seam and continuing up the underside of his length. You run your tongue up and down, making sure you catch on every ridge, trace along every vein, enjoying the feeling of it growing firm underneath your tongue.

You kitten lick along the head for a bit, looking up at him to see his face wearing a blank expression, staring at the TV. “I don’t know, I’d say getting hard just from an argument seems pretty desperate to me,” you taunt.

Ash finally shifts his eyes to yours and victorious adrenaline shoots through your entire body; your celebration is short-lived, however, as he matter of factly states, “I’m not the one on my knees, Princess,” and immediately turns back to the TV.

You narrow your eyes, disappointed he’s refusing to play your game. Or is he actually playing it even better than you are? Either way, his attitude spurs you on and you wrap your lips around him, exaggeratedly sucking at his tip, taking your time before taking more of his length at a torturously slow pace. You make it about halfway down before you sloppily pull back up and start over, letting as much spit fall from your lips as you possibly can; you repeat this process a few times, hoping to make him impatient enough to say something to you.

Your plan works as you pull back up again and Ashton scoffs, “You plan on sucking that cock or just slobbering on it?”

You sit back, defiant. “Wasn’t sure you noticed I was down here,” you sneer. “Why put in effort if you’re not even going to appreciate it?”

He leans in close to you and the tone of his voice sends chills down your spine. “Please, you fuckin’ love that I couldn’t care less that you’ve got my cock in your mouth. You’ve been on your knees for less than 5 minutes and I’ll bet you’re already dripping,” he reads you in a smooth, low voice. “You’re so desperate for my attention? Try earning it, Princess.”

You breathe deep, willing yourself to ignore the urge to press a hand between your legs. His gaze is still fixed on you, challenging you with intensity. You reach for him and stick out your tongue, slapping his cock across the surface of it, trying to give him a show. He rolls his eyes and starts channel surfing.

Without missing a beat, you take him into your mouth and start bobbing again, only this time you brace yourself on his legs and try swallowing him into your throat; you’re out of practice so your first few attempts have you gagging around him. While it doesn’t feel great, when you pull off to catch your breath, you notice he’s muted the TV, presumably to better hear you choking on him.

You try again, taking him a little further before you have to pull off; you lick up and down his shaft and your eyes flutter up to see him actually watching you this time. When you take him again you reach for his hand and place it in your hair, hoping he’ll take the hint; he doesn’t have to be told twice and as you wiggle your head, trying to work him into your throat, you feel a soft but increasing pressure from above as he tries to help you down.

You pull up again, coughing, and Ashton dryly muses, “Feel like you used to be better at this.” You turn to glare at him but even through the tears in your eyes you can see the hint of a smirk on his face; he knows that comment is only going to make you work harder.

With no hesitation, you slide your mouth down his cock, bobbing rapidly, swallowing him further and further until you’ve reached your limit. You silently congratulate yourself when you hear a surprised groan above you; his hands come down to hold you on his cock and you stay there - sputtering, choking, and drooling but you stay. He lets go of your head and you take your time pulling off, hollowing out your cheeks, giving him some good suction before your next breath.

You raise back up, an obscene string of saliva leaving your lips connected to his cock. You move your hand briskly up and down his shaft as you look at him with self-satisfaction, “You were saying?”

He grins at your hoarse brag. “There’s my filthy Princess,” he praises, hoping you’re too caught up in the moment to catch his affectionately possessive slip-up. “So fuckin' needy, the second it's not all about you, you use it as an excuse to choke on my cock. Can never get enough of the feeling of me using your throat, can you?"

Ashton's harsh words serve as a delicious contrast to the tender way he's brushing his hand through your hair, smoothing out the knots his grip had caused; you close your eyes and bask in the intimate gesture. You try not to read into how much you're enjoying his care, as far as you're concerned this is just part of having won his attention.

The sound of his voice jars you out of your reverie. "Get up," he says sternly.

You do as he says and with his eyes now refusing to leave yours, he runs his hand up the leg of your shorts and over the front of your panties, which as he forecast, are soaked straight through.

He rubs your clit through the wet material. "Aww, Princess, what's got you so wet? Is it my cock? Me finally giving you even a fraction of my attention? Or is it because you have no way of knowing what's going to happen next? Maybe you'll get my fingers, maybe a thigh. You hope maybe I'll even let you sit on my face but you know there's a good chance the second you swallow my cum, I'm just gonna get up and lock myself in my room and you'll have to get yourself off, thinking about what I might've done to you. And that? That's somehow what turns you on the most, that's what has you feeling like you could cum for me right now but you wouldn't dare without my permission, isn't that right, Princess?"

You’re so turned on you don't think you're capable of giving him a coherent answer but it doesn't matter because suddenly his fingers dip inside your panties to give your clit a few rough, direct rubs before he pulls his hand from your shorts entirely; he wraps his hand around your wrist, yanking you onto the couch with him. You scramble to steady yourself, ending up on all fours next to his lap, head hovering above his dripping cock.

"Back to work," he growls, slowly but purposefully guiding your head back down. "Let's see how much of my attention you fuckin’ deserve after all this."

You feel one of his hands stroke down your back and settle just above your ass, his other hand on your head, gathering your hair between his fingers, getting ready to pull if need be. You take the hint and slip him between your lips, setting a slow pace to start with, curious how he’ll react.

You get your answer right away when you feel the sting of a sharp smack come down on your ass over your shorts; your jaw drops as you cry out in surprise, his cock falling out of your mouth.

“Teasing is a bold move at this point, even for a brat like you,” he remarks, spanking you once again, in the exact same spot so the sting never stops, just like you used to ask for.

You get your mouth back on him and feel him tug your shorts down as you work; his fingers trace over the skin of your inner thighs - just out of reach from where you want him but close enough it has you trembling.

Ash slowly moves between your legs as you try to deep throat him again; wanting some friction, you rock your hips but he puts an end to that almost instantly with a harsh spank that takes you by surprise, jolting you forward, shoving his cock into your throat, leaving you gasping for air.

You pull off, coughing forcefully. “Jesus, Ash,” you complain, glaring at him, breathless and annoyed.

He sweetly wipes away the tears running down your cheeks but his response couldn’t be more condescending. “Aww, Princess needed attention and now that she’s getting it, she’s mad it’s not exactly what she wanted,” he mocks. “Typical.”

“Do you want me to get you off or not, you ass?”

“I was minding my own business when you came over here and pulled my cock out,” he shrugs, smirking as he watches your face turn from annoyed to annoyingly pleased when he starts touching your clit. “Of course, if you stop, I stop.” Proving his point, he removes both his hands from your body and reaches for his phone again.

“God, you’re the fucking worst,” you grumble, mouthing over his tip nonetheless. You sink down, determined to disprove his claims of indifference; you bob with renewed vigor and start fluttering your tongue on the underside of his cock as you pull up. He must approve of the decision because he gruffly praises, “That’s a good girl,” and his thumb finds its way to your clit.

The two of you continue playing with each other, caught in a seemingly endless cycle of antagonism and lust: when you take his cock deep enough to make him moan, he can’t let you have that satisfaction so he teases your pussy relentlessly, causing you to dig your nails into his thighs until your legs stop shaking.

As your game nears its end, something resembling affection sneaks in on the both of you; praises and encouraging murmurs easily spill from both your and his lips and when he squeezes your shoulder and mumbles something that sounds a lot like “Baby, I’m gonna cum,” you think nothing of it.

You raise up, cheating your body out so Ashton gets a view of you licking over his slit, jerking him off into your open mouth; he slips his hand under your shirt so he can paw at your tit while he watches. Finally with a heavy groan, he starts cumming on your tongue; you let him see the first couple spurts before you wrap your lips around him, enveloping his cock with your warm mouth for the last moments of his release.

When he’s finished, you sit up in his lap and pull him in for a kiss, eliciting a surprised growl from him. You’d always talked about wanting to feed him his cum but never got around to it when you were together; his tongue darts out to swipe across your closed lips, trying multiple times to gain entry but never succeeding. He pulls back to look at you in confusion and you smugly open your mouth, showing him the substance you denied him and before he can say anything else, you swallow with an exaggerated “mmm.”

“You’re fuckin’ ridiculous,” he mutters, pulling you into a real kiss, moaning into your mouth when he detects the faintest taste of cum left on your tongue.

The kiss continues as he shifts your body to lay in his lap, essentially cradling you in one arm while his other hand works its magic on your clit. You’re so worked up from this whole ordeal that your body starts shaking long before you reach your release and Ashton’s demeanor changes accordingly; he strokes your hair and speaks softly to you, telling you how good you’re being for him.

You lose yourself in the feeling, whimpering loudly when your orgasm takes you by surprise and you cum harder than you have all week, which is saying something. You softly cry his name and he answers with a soothing, “I’m here, Princess.”

He hugs you to his chest as you come down; you’re quiet, not wanting to break the spell you’ve both fallen under, not wanting to admit how much you’re enjoying being close to him. You trace over the tattoo on his rib cage; you’ve been admiring it by the pool all week and you wonder how long he’s had it but you don’t want to disrupt the silence to ask.

You move to straddle his lap and fit yourself against him, wrapping your arms tight around him and he does the same to you. You rest your head on his shoulder, tucking your face against his neck, trying to memorize this smell and this feeling, because it will end too soon.

He lightly kisses your cheek. “You still want dinner?”

You shake your head, not ready to return to reality.  

Ash grabs the blanket off the back of the couch and wraps you in it; you groan when he reaches for his phone and you try to push away but he holds you tighter. “I’m just ordering us that pizza,” he reassures you. “I haven’t seen you eat anything today besides cum.”

You smirk against his skin. “I had breakfast.”

“Well… we’re getting pizza… Do you want breadsticks? Of course you do,” he chuckles to himself. “And ranch and garlic sauce and marinara… anything else?”

You smile that he remembers what you like. “No, that sounds good.”

After placing the order, he wraps his arms around you again, thinking about how much he misses your affection, you wanting to be on him like this. He knows fighting, silent treatments and pure aggravation is built into the foundation of your relationship - it's just who you both are - but he's always loved the quiet moments like this most.

This was what he was hoping to achieve by playing your game; he's not sure how long it'll last but he'll take as much of this as you're willing to give. He presses soft kisses to the top of your head and listens to you breathe.

After a while, Ash guides you upstairs and the two of you are cleaning up when the pizza arrives; he leaves you to answer the door and his heart flutters when he sees you come back to the living room wearing one of his t-shirts. He sets a water for himself and a mixed drink for you on the coffee table; you sip the alcohol sparingly, not wanting to dull anything you’re feeling in this moment.

After dinner, you decide to put on a movie and within the first 10 minutes, he’s pulling you to lay next to him, tucking you into his side. You fall asleep long before the film is over and he can’t get over how peaceful you look. He gently kisses your forehead and whispers, “Time for bed.” He starts gathering up the dishes and smiles to himself when he sees you get up and head for his room.

When he climbs into bed next to you, you immediately start pressing soft kisses across his skin; he hums, you can feel it in his chest under your hand and lips. “You know I’m not so tired anymore,” you whisper, looking up at him.

“Thought you might say that,” he smiles. Your lips meet and he gets you both naked, pulling you underneath him. It’s a simple makeout session to start and you can tell by his actions he plans to keep things a little tamer than they’ve been. He runs his hand up your side and your leg instinctively comes up to wrap around his waist.

You didn’t get this side of Ashton a lot when you were together but it still feels natural as ever. He slips in gently, pressing his mouth to yours. It’s slow and easy, the two of you just fit and he loves feeling that. You slide one hand down to his ass, giving it a reassuring squeeze as he works into you. He falters slightly before pulling your thigh up to get deeper.

Your quiet whimper of “Ash” is almost enough to send him over the edge and he has to work hard to not let it. He’s missed hearing it so much and he’s forgotten the way it goes straight to his cock, something only your sounds have ever done for him.  

You let your head rest back against the pillow, exposing all of your neck for him as your back arches with his thrusts. “You feel so good,” he murmurs, lips ghosting over your neck. “So fuckin’ perfect.”

He hooks his finger on your jaw to kiss you. You grab onto his wrist and he intertwines your fingers, bringing you closer together, the way he used to when feelings were raw between the two of you.

You whimper again, “Ash… I’m gonna…”

“Please, gorgeous,” he encourages, kissing you, moving his hips just the way you like. “I’ve got you.” You let your orgasm overtake you and with a muted groan of his own, he cums inside you shortly after.

He collapses next to you and you instantly push yourself onto his chest. You rest your head low enough to peck at that rib tattoo you can’t get enough of.

Ash watches you and has to bite his lip to stop the “I love you” that’s on the tip of his tongue. It never seemed like you wanted to hear it when you were together so you probably don’t want to hear it now. And he can’t risk pushing you away again. Not now. Not when it feels this good.

A beat passes and you quietly confess, “I don’t wanna go to my own bed.”

He gives an easy reply, as if it’s the simplest, most uncomplicated thing in the world. “Stay here then, Princess.” And that word just doesn’t have the bite it once did.

————-

Taglist is breaking the links in the post and I currently do not have the brainpower to figure out the problem lol. We’ll try again tomorrow but in the meantime, if you aren’t notified, you can always check the masterlist which will be updated everyday!

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@crazyforcal​​​   @neso-k​​​   @deliciouslydisturbed365​​​  @blxndeprincess​

[nico-meridius]

Fic: The Return of Kote

And here we are at Day 4 for @commandercodyweek ... this particular snippet/moment will likely be expanded into a much larger story.   

Day 4: Post-Order 66

Purge trooper Cody

Reuniting with Obi-Wan

Reuniting with Rex and/or any of his other brothers

Scars; survivors

Nightmares; regrets

It didn't happen gradually.   One day he woke up, showered, stared himself in the mirror, and for the first time in years, saw himself staring back.

He was no longer CC-2224 former Marshall Commander, turned Purge Trooper.  He was once again Kote, and was extremely pissed off. 

If there was one thing he was very good at, was going about his daily tasks, while dealing with an internal crisis.  He had successfully run the 212th, while trying to figure out his feelings for his General.  The only one he hadn't fooled was Rex, his vod had shoved him into a closet and demanded to know what got him so kriffing distracted.  In a rare moment of uncontrolled emotion, he broke down and told him he had fallen in love with his Jetii.  Rex had looked at him, then laughed. 'No osik ori'vod, everyone knows that'.

Rex. Boil. Wooly. Wolffe. Fox. Bly.  How many of his vode were lost in their minds, working for an Empire that created them to destroy their Jetii.  

It hadn't taken long to figure out who Darth Vader really was, he was as careless and reckless as when he had led the 501st.  The difference was the Stormtroopers were poorly trained and died quickly and by the handful on Vader and Tarkin's whims. 

Since he got his mind back, there had been many times he woke from nightmares of finding his General's body floating in a pool of water.  But deep down, he had always known that a single shot wouldn't be enough to bring him down.  After all if Ventress, Grievous, or Dooku couldn't do it, one trooper with a 50% accuracy rate, sure as hell wasn't going to be able to.

Besides, there was only one person who could rile Skywalker up that quickly.  Vader would lose all control, when some poor minion reported that a Jetii had once again freed some of the clones, destroyed Empire property, and generally made a nuisance of himself.

He had no doubt it was Obi-Wan, his cyare.  Only he would be reckless in saving Cody's vode from themselves, annoy the osik out of Vader, and being his typical self sacrificing Jetii, who followed the whims of the Force.

He was pretty sure that Skywalker kept him close, as an ace up his mechanical sleeve.  Waiting for the moment, to hurt his Master by showcasing he had control over the one person Kenobi loved.

The new bucket he wore as a Purge Trooper wasn't as good as his old one, but it at least covered the epic eyeroll at Skywalker … Vader's antics.   The man held onto the light when Satine died, never gave into Maul's anger or hatred.  Even with the death of all those he loved and called family, the betrayal of his men - he still fought in the light.

At what point in Vader's childish self centered angry little mind did he think Obi-Wan Kenobi would faint away at the sight of his Commander as a Purge Trooper.  Oh no doubt, he would be pissed, likely annoy the kriff out of Vader until he lost his composure (which usually took seconds), then stun his Commander and escape with him.

Which was exactly what happened.  

He didn't get a chance to tell him that he was in his right mind, before he was stunned.  At least his General learned some of the self preservation he tried to install in him!  

He woke with Rex and Wolffe staring down at him, and had never been happier to see their ugly mugs.

"Cody…"

"Kriffin' shut up and help me out of this bed."  He yanked on Rex until the two were holding onto each other tightly, then reached over and grabbed Wolffe pulling him into the hug.  

"Your chip is out?"  Wolffe asked, discreetly wiping away a tear.

"No, it just stopped working.  I woke up and was me."  He shifted until his feet were dangling over the bed.  "I was taking time to figure what was going on.   Once I got my bearings, I discovered the Empire based all their codes, files and controls on the GAR ones and would you believe they forgot to revoke my access." 

Rex snorted. "I'm sure you used it to your advantage."

"Kriffing hell I did."  Cody sighed, and rubbed his hands over his face. He felt old, and knew he was looking beyond his age.  "I sabotaged projects, destroyed files, and sent as much information out to the rebellion as I could … "

"It was how we finally found you."  Rex couldn't stop touching him.  They had him back, after all these years.  "Ahoska realized they were getting classified information, and only few people would have that access."

"So you just decided to raid an Imperial base, knowing full well Vader … "  He paused, closed his eyes, then glanced past his vode to see the one person he was longing yet terrified to see.  "It was your insane idea wasn't it."

"I wasn't going to let the opportunity slip by, not when there was a chance to save you."  Obi-Wan stepped into the room, his tunics long gone, but still wearing an outfit fitting of a Jetii.  "Ner cyare."

He was across the room, desperate to have him in his arms again.  Obi-Wan held onto him as tightly, both crying as they held on desperately.   "Ni ceta. Ni ceta."

"There's nothing to be sorry for, ner al'verde."  Kenobi kissed him softly.  

"I should've listened to Fives.  Investigated.  I swore to protect my vode and did nothing to save them.  And from that you lost your family."  Kote buried his head into his General's neck.  "Ni ceta."

"K'lamon di'dunla."  He made sure Kote was looking right at him, then wiped his tears.  "K'lamon di'dunla.  Help me save the vode, and burn the Empire to the ground."  

There was no way he wasn't going to say no.

Many nights later he would learn of two young children, who were the hope for the future.  Obi-Wan was determined to protect them, by destroying the monster who had betrayed them.

[doc-pickles]

happy anniversary!!!

hello friends, a sappy order of business for the day. one year ago today I posted the first chapter of ‘it’s nothing funny just to talk’. that fic and the outpouring of love from the jolex fandom is what got me to keep writing, keep posting, and eventually got me to start the jolex group chat and find a group of people who I love deeply and consider some of my closest friends. today is a very special anniversary and i’m so excited to be able to celebrate it.

so in honor of this super exciting day here’s another installment of my ‘it’s nothing funny just to talk’ follow up series. enjoy and thank you tons for all your love and support! also definitely didn’t post this at 11:55….

xoxo nina

“You’re going to have to quit your job.”

“Sorry what?”

“I can’t do this Alex! I need you to come back home.”

Jo’s pleading voice tugged at Alex’s heart strings, wishing desperately that he could come back home. It was his first day back at work from paternity leave and he’d hated leaving Jo and Annie earlier that morning. Annie had been going through a growth spurt and eating more frequently, leaving Jo exhausted and worn down during the day from being up all night nursing. Alex did his best to help her out during the day but now that he was working again he knew she was probably struggling.

“You’ve been gone for five hours and I’m pretty sure she’s been nursing for four and half of those. I tried to get up to pee and she just wouldn’t stop screaming,” Jo sounds like she’s on the verge of screaming as well, quiet sobs echoing across the phone line. “I can’t do this, I’m not supposed to be a mom. I don’t know why I thought I could do this.”

“Babe, you’re the best mom I’ve ever met. I’m sure you’re doing fi-,” a loud wail interrupts Alex’s statement as Annie begins to cry. “Put me on speaker.”

As Jo wrestles with both the phone and Annie, Alex sneaks off to a quieter hallway of the peds ward. He looks around to make sure none of his colleagues are close by as he hears Jo attempting to calm Annie down again.

“Wouldn't it be nice if we were older? Then we wouldn't have to wait so long,” as soon as Alex began to sing the old tune Annie’s cries started to lessen. He paused for a moment, continuing again when Annie began to fuss. “And wouldn't it be nice to live together, in the kind of world where we belong?”

As Alex continued to sing, Annie’s cries began to get quieter until they were nonexistent. Finally he heard Jo let out a sigh as she spoke up, “She’s finally asleep in her bassinet. Thank you, I was starting to lose my mind.”

“Go take a shower and then take a nap. I won’t be too late today,” Alex’s eyes flicked down to the golden band on his left hand, trying to convince himself that the perfect life he was living wasn’t a dream. “I love you, I’ll see you soon.”

“I love you too. And thank you for calming her down,” Jo’s voice finally sounded calm as she let out a sigh of relief. “I’m glad you’re my husband.”

“And I’m glad you’re my wife,” Alex and Jo exchanged goodbyes before he hung up, turning to go back towards the main area of the pediatrics floor.

“So do you normally sing the Beach Boys to everyone you talk to or is that just a Tuesday thing,” Alex almost jumps six feet in the air at the sound of Arizona’s voice, turning to eye the blonde who’s wearing a wide smile. “Go home, I know you just got back but it sounds like you’re needed much more there than you are here.”

“Robbins I’m fine-“

“You might be fine but your wife is probably struggling at home,” Arizona shoots him an understudying look before turning back to the chart in her hands. “Besides we’re over staffed here anyways, you going home helps us out.”

Alex only hesitated for a moment before squeezing Arizona into a tight hug and heading towards the attendings lounge to grab his wallet and keys. Any other day he would’ve fought back and tried to stay for the rest of his shift, but deep down he knew that he really was needed more at home.

After stopping to pick up a pizza Alex made his way home, grinning to himself as he walked through the door of the loft. Jo was laid across their bed, one hand resting on Annie’s chest as she laid in her bassinet. Both girls were fast asleep, oblivious to the fact that he’d just walked through the door. Setting down the pizza on the counter, Alex busied himself picking up around the loft and straightening things out.

“Alex? What’re you doing here?”

Jo’s voice prompts him to turn around, moving from the couch where he was folding laundry to the empty side of the bed, “Over staffed at work, Robbins sent me home. But it looks like you two have it under control.”

“She’s gonna be up soon to eat,” Jo laid her head in Alex’s lap, his fingers threading through her hair as her eyes closed. “What time is it?”

“It’s almost… 2 o’clock. Hey look at that,” Alex looked down to his phone, a smirk lighting up his face. “It’s our anniversary.”

While they truly hadn’t gotten together until Jackson and April’s wedding, Alex and Jo had made it a tradition to celebrate their relationship a few weeks before on the date that Jo had first texted him. Now though, on their third anniversary, both of them had forgotten about the day.

“I knew I was forgetting something,” Jo groaned, looking up at Alex. “I’m sorry I didn’t do anything for you, I can barely remember to shower everyday.”

“It’s okay, I forgot too,” Alex leaned down to press a kiss against Jo’s forehead, grinning as he looked over at Annie. “We have a newborn, we’re allowed to drop the ball on these things.”

“Next year though, I’m gonna go all out,” Jo grinned, letting a groan out just a moment later when Annie began to fuss. “What did I tell you?”

Alex moved to grab Annie, watching as she blinked up at him in fascination. The little girl in his arms was everything to him, her and Jo being the center of his whole world.

“Annie say thank you to mommy for getting drunk and texting daddy,” Alex grinned through Jo’s protests, continuing to talk to the infant. “If she hadn’t done that none of us would be here right now. And I don’t know about you but I really like having you and mommy around.”

“Well when you put it like that, you’re welcome,” Jo leaned up and pressed a kiss to Alex’s cheek. “I guess I made a good call, right Doctor Evil Spawn?”

“Of course you did Bar Princess.”

[bearmustard]

2021 Fic/Writing Goals

Ok, so, I go away for every new years and therefore I totally forgot to do a 2020 wrap up post, but I’m getting back on the writing horse after a crazy Nov/Dec period and wanted to make some commitments! 

I was SO proud that in 2020 I came back to fic writing, and published new fic for the first time in a decade (find them here and here!) I am also SUPER proud of both of those fics, and their reception has ABSOLUTELY given me the confidence to keep writing, so thank you so much to everyone for your encouragement. I especially want to thank @sashinalash, @twopoppies and @lululawrence, as well as the rest of the Panic Room GC, for their encouragement, support and cheerleading. I honestly could not have done it without you. 

Now, onto the 2021 fic writing goals!! 

Overall word count goal 

50,000 words - If I write all the fics I plan I will easily make this, but I have learned not to overestimate myself haha. This seems reasonable, with plenty of room for improvement :)

1D Fic: 

5x Fest Fic - This is due in 10 days, and I cannot wait to share it with you all. I have had it planned, blocked and (semi) drafted since Oct, so I’m on the home stretch. It is gonna hurt and I’m so sorry/not sorry at all. I wish I could say more. You’re just gonna have to read them all to guess which is mine!! 

In Those Years Pt 2 - The second instalment of my In Those Years series, and the follow up to At Risk I Fold, set throughout 2016, is story blocked but not drafted... yet. I am hoping to get it done by the end of the year but this is something I want to take my time on to get right, so it might take me a while. Who knows what will happen to inspire me?!

Melbourne Pubs AU - Another WIP I am sitting on that I am regularly thinking about - who knows if this will be finished this year but I am putting it here because Emma/ @sashinalash keeps egging me on. 

SPN Fic

If you haven’t noticed, I’ve kinda fallen deeply back in love with SPN in the past few months (over 12 years since I left the fandom whoops). I have two WIPS that I’m thinking about: 

Civilian - WIP - SPN/Generation Kill crossover (Alternate Season 5?) - In which pre-Series Dean joins the marines and goes to iraq, and Sam doesn’t find out until after Lucifer Rising. I have snippets of this written on my phone but it’s a bit all over the place right now. I guess I’ll just HAVE to rewatch Generation Kill (what a chore lmao). Most importantly, though, I have made a playlist, which means I’m serious about getting it done.

Alternate Season 12 WIP - Dean centric (duh) fic in which Amara brings back Charlie instead of Mary at the end of season 11, and lots of character work ensues. A really character based/figuring my shit out fic with lots of characters calling each other out on their bullshit. This will likely take me a while to write but I’m thinking about it a lot. 

Dark Angel Fic 

People who have been following me for a LONG TIME know that my original fandom is Dark Angel, which I recently rewatched. 

Escape and Evade AU WIP - ok, I have had this fic in my head since 2006 - and in my recent rewatch I finally solved how I was going to approach it. This is a deep cut fic that probably no one will read but it is so near and dear to my heart that I am putting it on the writing list anyway. 

Dark Angel Character Studies/Episode Codas - I also want to build my repertoire with a bunch of shorter DA character studies in prep for the fic. Putting these here as a goal because I am more likely to finish these than anything else. 

Tumblr Drabbles

Last year I published a bunch of my old tumblr drabbles and was surprised by how much I liked them, so I want to get back to taking ask prompts for short fics in any of my active fandoms. Good exercise! 

 I don’t know if anyone else has set goals but I thought I’d tag some people in case they want to do it: 

@harryanthus, @harryrainbows, @mercurial-madhouse, @lululawrence, @jacaranda-bloom, @reminiscingintherain, @cuethetommo, @twopoppies, @sashinalash, @indiaalphawhiskey, @cupcakentea, @choface, @heriz, @stunning-stylinson, @crinkle-eyed-boo, @cyantific and anyone else who is so inclined! 

[harleenfleck]

“Don’t forget me” (Part. 2)

Arthur Fleck/Joker x Reader fic

Summary: you’re one of the few female clowns who working in Ha-ha’s, you felted attracted by Arthur, but you never had the courage to confess your feelings to him. The things get complicated when he gets fired of the job and you knew nothing about him until the death of his mother. Being convinced by Randall and Gary, you three going to visit Arthur.

Warnings: Description of violence, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff and a little bit of sexual themes cause why not ehehehe but not smut (Not yet)

Words: 6.2k

Part one here <3

A/N: There is, there is! The second part of this story, in the end I think it was good idea of Tumblr part to divide this story into 3 parts, although originally the third part was not going to exist and this part was going to be the last. But my heart said “NO, DON’T DO IT” And weeeeeeell, I just followed what my heart says. But I have a little fight with tumblr right now, first, they don’t leave me post this fic with a beauty gif I make it of Artie :( and second, Tumblr said the file it’s heavy. AAAAA a big frustation, I hope this upload well :C. I’m sorry if I make some grammatical, spelling or writing mistakes, English is not my native language. Enjoy this second part! :3 I hope you like it!

...

The days after Arthur was fired from Ha-ha's they were so long for you. You didn't know what he was doing, if he'd be okay, he'd be looking for a job, he’d enough money for him and his mother for eat. You knew absolutely nothing about Arthur.

You wanted to call him back, and you did it a couple of times, hoping he'd be calmer about his recent situation.

Nothing.

You waited for seconds and you'd get to the answering machine. You left one or two messages. Then you scolded yourself, maybe he just wanted space, and maybe you were being too invasive. You didn't mean to disturb him. You decided to respect his decision that he'll call you.

Even if it looked like that call was never going to come.

Many nights you slept late, you questioned if you'd done anything wrong in the past with him. You searched through your memories shared with him, even in the happiest memories of the two of you together. Your eyes were getting tired of crying so much, you would sometimes wake up with your eyes swollen and with dark circles too, so much that you were looking for some home remedy and non-clown make-up to hide the traces of your sorrow. You had to sleep well, but you just couldn't.

You couldn't with the fact that Arthur had taken you out of his life without explanation.

You couldn't even with the fact that maybe Arthur had already forgotten you.

Night Mime missed Carnival too. When you dress up, you wore the makeup that Arthur had created especially for you. Of course, rarely did the people of Gotham call work for events, different protests where everyone wore clown masks started in the city, and those protests overshadowed the clown agency.

Sometimes the police would come to work to ask a couple of questions, and every time they asked, Randall looked more and more nervous. Maybe he was the killer clown everyone was talking about, and if he was, you hope he was imprisoned soon.

One day, you got to work, there was a few of staff, and you didn't really care.

Just him was in your mind.

When you took your card for the time clock, you observed Arthur's was still there. It was like he was a ghost, stalking you and your feelings. What could you do now with all those feelings?

“Hello Y/N” You crouched your gaze to meet Gary's, smiled at him.

"Hi Gary, how about today?"

“Well, try to surviving, as you know, it’s a hard time for clowns”

Gary climbed the small staircase installed especially for him. He took his letter and also, he realized the same thing as you.

"Speaking of difficult times for clowns, how is Arthur? He did get a new gig?”

You didn't know what to answer, but your disappointing face must have led you away. Gary feared he had asked something he shouldn't have asked “Oh Y/N, Arthur is fine?

“Well, I don’t know how to say this…” You said it in a very low voice, as if you were going to tell him a little secret. “I don’t know nothing of Arthur…”

“What?”

You bit your lower lip, trying to stand the urge to cry, and even smiled at Gary, trying to look like you were okay.

Of course, you talked about it, but after work. The two were sitting on a park bench outside a Park in Gotham.

"…He said he was going to call me back, but he sounded very irritated, he seemed to sound annoyed with me. I know he said he would, but it had happened a few days, I just wanted to know if he was okay. I called him a few times, but always answered the answering machine. I left him some messages, but I never got one back... I haven't heard from him for more than... three weeks, or four?... I don't know anything..."

You had a little while talking, but you had said a lot to Gary, as he was a good counselor. It was good to have someone to share your concerns, Gary was a good friend of yours after all.

"Y/N, calm down. As you mentioned to me, Arthur went through many things: An unjustified dismissal, an accuse of something that was surely not to blame. Hoyt mentioned that Arthur said the gun was a prop, maybe he was right, but you know Hoyt had a long time wanting to get Arthur out of Ha-ha's, he had the perfect pretext to do it."

"That’s unfair for Arthur"

“It is, but I told you, calm Y/N, maybe Arthur had never drive with a lot of stress, maybe he needed to drop all that against something or someone and unfortunately that someone was you. Maybe he hasn't called you or answered the messages because he's embarrassed to treat you badly.”

Gary's words sounded so logical, full of sense. He could be right; it could be that what he said was true. But if only he'd been in your shoes, if he'd listened that tone of Arthur's voice and the way he addressed you. Your eyes became wet just remembering it. You were just moving your head along with your hair, in a try to strike your feelings and make them faint for a while.

"I'm afraid he forgot me..."

"No Y/N, don’t be so dramatical, just don't worry Y/N" Gary addressed you kindly again "If I hear anything about Arthur, I'll tell you. But I'm sure if I hear anything about him, it'll be by your side, because he'll talk to you again, trust me”

Gary's words gave you a little encouragement, maybe he was right, you expected Gary's words to come true.

"Thank you, Gary, thank you so much for listening to me"

Rarely did you talk to someone about your concerns, that someone usually occupied you by your best friend. However, you didn't tell Gary all your concerns, you didn't tell him how you really felt about Arthur, because you didn't know what to do with those feelings, which seemed to get heavier with each day.

You didn't know if one day that’d become so heavy you couldn't carry again.

…

Sadly, Gary found something about Arthur, not from you. And it wasn't a good thing.

You got to Ha-ha's again, you took your card for the time clock again, you noticed that Hoyt had already disposed of Arthur's card.

I should have taken it when I had the chance.

You thought, your lips curved to the opposite of a smile, feeling sick of sadness.

"Hey Y/N" You heard Gary's voice, and you mind remembered you that conversation in the park "Could you come for a second please?" You looked at him, he was at the table, along with Randall.

Fucking idiot, if it wasn't for him, Arthur would still be working. You approached both of them kindly and sat down in one of the chairs.

You saw they both had a serious face, even Randall had it too.

“It’s everything okay Gary?”

“We heard something sad Y/N, it’s about Arthur”

You trembled when you heard that name. You didn't know anything about Arthur in weeks, and you be concerned more when they told you it was sad.

“Arthur it’s okay? Please tell me Gary, He’s fine?”

“I don’t know Y/N, I don’t know if he is fine or not. His mother is dead”

“Oh my god! ...”

A huge hole in your stomach you felted at the same time you carried your hands to your mouth and your eyes were tearing. You couldn't believe it.

Arthur was going through too much things, too much shit in his life, or at least you knew that before he was fired. If he was having a hard time, how would he be handling with something like that? Arthur should be so depressed at that moment. His mother, his only family, had died. Arthur was alone, alone in the world.

You didn't want Arthur to be alone.

There was silence between the three of us, until...

"Yeah, and we thought about, you know, going to his house to cheer him up a little bit, I bought a bottle of liquor, I hope that makes him happy"

…Randall opened his mouth again, and it was enough for you.

"Do you really plan going to visit him, Randall? After for your fault he was fired?!”

"Hey, it's no time for another of your silly lawsuits Y/N, we don’t-"

"Shut the fuck up! You're so cynical and really fuck up! You're a big son of a bitch, that's what you fucking are!”

You were so angry, you told him that out loud that other workers turned confused. You were breathing hard, trying to keep your composure.

"Y/N, calm down Y/N please! try to think this is about Arthur!" Gary said that and it was true, it wasn't time for more fights with Randall, you had to conduct yourself, only for Arthur “We want you to go with us Y/N. Arthur appreciates you very much, and maybe it would mean a lot to him if you went. What do you say?"

You looked at Randall in a raging way, you really hoped he'd behave that day, or you could swear you'd kill him, no matter what.  

"Ok Gary, I'm coming with you…”

…

The next day, you waited for Gary and Randall at the subway stop. Your stomach was shaking a lot. You'd finally see Arthur after all this time! But not for the best reasons.

A subway passed in front you, you looked through the reflections of the windows your clothes, a blouse, skirt, socks and black shoes.

The color of mourning.

Would he be really fine? Would he cope well with his mother's death? You had so much to ask Arthur, you wanted to comfort him, to tell him that he was never going to be alone, that you'd always be with him.

“Well, I’m here” You looked back and it was Randall "We're going?"

"Where's Gary?"

"Gary called me on the phone, woke up sick to his stomach, he sends greetings and condolences to Arthur for his part"

Oh, no. You'd be alone with Randall for a long while. Damn, it was going to be worse than torture. Both entered the subway and went to Arthur's house.

In all this time, a huge concern began to nest in your mind, and if it was a Randall's trap? If he'd take advantage of the situation and get revenge at you? You hadn't thought of it that way. Randall was a cruel man, he had disrespected you so many times, and you had returned to him every one of the insults he had dedicated to you.

You are so scared in the subway, in the street when you two were walking, you trying to walk on the side of the sidewalk where the cars were, away from the alleys, planned thousands of escapes in your head, how you were going to shout "Fire!" instead of "Help!" in case Randall attacked you, only then would people go to help you.

Hopping nothing bad happened.

You went to the Arthur’s building; you wanted to use the stairs but Randall insisted with the elevator. You prayed that Randall didn't punch you in the elevator, you got scared when he stopped suddenly, you almost cried. Fortunately, the elevator continued to the eighth floor.

Finally arrived at Arthur's apartment, at that moment, you gave yourself the luxury of breathing and reassuring you. Randall don’t punch you, and finally, you would see Arthur.

Randall rang the bell twice, you heard a "Coming!" that altered your heart, and then, he opened the door.

Arthur was there. Shirtless, with wet and green hair? his face painted of white and cigarette in his hand.

You were delighted with him. You finally saw Arthur, your Arthur, your best friend, the boy who you love, after all this time.

Randall don’t say nothing, so, you decide to talk.

“Hello Arthur, how are you?”

“Hi guys” Arthur greeting you two with joy “Come on in”.

You entered in his apartment first, with a silly smile in your face.

“Did you get a new job Arthur? I’m wonder it for the paint in your face”

“Nah” He smoked again with that indifferent voice, you felted the rejection again, but you’re really good cover your emotions.

“Oh, you must be going down to that rally at City Hall, I hear it’s gonna be nuts” Randall said that so quickly, so robotic, and little ashamed.  Like he tried to like Arthur after the shit he was with him.

“Oh, is that today?”

This left Randall confused, which was not explained because Arthur had his face painted. You didn't really care, you just cared if Arthur was okay.

“Yeah… What’s with the makeup then?”

Arthur rested on the wall and put one of his hand on his pants. He was always ashamed to show himself shirtless in front of everyone, especially in front of you, but not this time. And this time, you didn't to avoid seeing his body, how thin he was, his arms, his chest, his collarbones.

And for the first time you had thoughts about Arthur beyond all the love you had of him, something you hadn't thought of him before. You love him, yes, but you hadn't imagined that way of loving him before. Suddenly, you wanted Randall to go to hell in that instant, get closer to Arthur, run your fingers through his thin skin, your hands over his chest, and kiss him deeply.

You blushed at the thought of it, of wanting to have Arthur that way, that he’ll love you that way. You looked at the couch, that couch looked good enough to made love to Arthur for the first time.

“My mom is died, I’m celebrating”

You blinked; how could you think of something like that at a time like that? Arthur was in mourning; you were so ashamed instantly.

Although it struck you that Arthur used the word "Celebrating".

“Right, we heard, that’s why we came by, we figured, you know, you could use some cheering up” Randall shook the bottle of liquor in front of Arthur, animated.

"Gary was going to come with us, actually he made me the invitation, but he got sick and couldn't come" You made the comment to Arthur, as if you had to explain to him why are you accompany Randall, hoping he understood.

“Aw, that’s sweet, but no, I feel good”

Arthur feels good? Feels good despite his mother's death?

And if Arthur feel good, that’s mean he’s not sad, that’s mean he don’t need somebody for help him, that’s mean he don’t need you?

“Yeah, I stopped taking my medication, I feel a lot better now”

That’s made you confused. He stopped to take his medication? But he had seven different medication, he had a lot of problems and conditions, why he stopped to take it? Miraculously all his illnesses were cured? That couldn't be possible.

“What? Your medication? You don’t use more medication Arthur?” You asked him in that tone of voice of concern that he knew, but his look at you was not at all kind.

“No…” He answered you so cutting. Why he treated you like that?

Embarrassed again, you took a few steps back. Maybe it was a bad idea to accompany Randall and Gary, even he’s not with you. Maybe he was upset that you were there without him asking you.

“Oh, okay, good for you”

Randall congratulated him, if that could be called a "congratulation". Suddenly, Randall changed the subject of the conversation, and you discovered the real reason what Randall wanted to go with Arthur from the beginning.

Randall didn't want to offer his condolences to Arthur for his mother's death, he had other intentions.

“So, hey, listen, I don’t know if your heard, but the cops have been coming around the shop, talking to all the guys…” While Randall pathetically exposed his request, Arthur began to draw a happy face with his cigarette in the wall.

Arthur wasn't well, something bad was going on with him.

“…And um…”

“They didn’t talk to me” You interrupted Randall on purpose, or maybe not, because it was true, the cops hadn't called with you.

“That’s because the suspect it’s a man, a real man does this kind of thing, do you really think a woman can do something like that? If it had been a woman, she would possibly be the dead one, not the three rich”

He’s seriously? Made one of his fucking and horrible jokes in a moment like that? You want to punch his face so hard.

But you heard a bizarre laugh, it was from Arthur.

Arthur looked you, his gaze was no longer shy, he wasn't the Arthur you met, who occasionally you invited to dinner after work, the man who always hugged you when the road suddenly got cold and their sweaters both weren't enough against the freezing wind. The one who told you his worries, but at the same time his little dreams and goals.

But he’s not that Arthur, no more.

“Anyway, um…”

Arthur stopped watching you, lowered his head, beginning to tremble again, rather irritated.

“Hoyt said that they talked to you, and now they’re looking for me…”

It could have been wrong, but you felt good hearing that the police thought Randall was the killer clown. He probably was.

“And I just wanna know what you said, make sure our stories line up…”

You were about to interfere, tell Randall to fuck off, and not get Arthur into his fucking trouble.

“Seeing as how, you’re my boy”

“Yeah, that’s important”

But you never imagined what was about to happen.

“You know what I meant?”

“That makes a lot of sense… Thank you Randall, thank you so much”

“I just wanna-“

Arthur took out a pair of scissors from his pocket so quickly and attacked Randall, sticking in his neck, and seconds later, in his eye.

You screamed like you've never screamed in your life, ran away backwards, tripped and fell to the ground, and even lying on the ground, you crawled away from the scene.

“ARTHUR!”

Arthur led Randall against a wall right in front of your sight.

“NO! ARTHUR NO! DON’T ARTHUR! PLEASE!”

You yelled at Arthur hysterically, begging that he'll stop. Arthur began to hit Randall's head against the wall, and you could see his head disfigure with every blow.

“ARTHUR!”

You can’t see anymore, you put your hands in your eyes, which were already wet with tears.

You stopped hearing blows, now you heard a louder blow, and Arthur's euphoric breathing. You didn't want to see where that ended, you didn't want to see Randall's body, you didn't want to see Arthur's eyes after committing murder.

Sobbing, you still cried. Now what was going to happen? You were going to be next one? Hours earlier you were so afraid Randall would dare hurt you, now you were so sure Arthur was going to hurt you. You were so sure you weren't going to be alive that day.

“Hey… Hey Y/N…” You heard Arthur’s voice, you were so afraid to see him “Y/N, please, open your eyes… Look at me…”

Doubting, you gradually pulled your trembling fingers out of your eyes, opening them. You looked at Arthur sitting on the floor, his face and torso stained with blood, like the wall, and next to him, Randall's lifeless body.

“A-Arthur?” You asked fearful.

“It’s okay Y/N, you should to smile”

“W-W-W-What?” Your lips trembled from what he said.

He smiled and look at you with that smile.

“You won Y/N, you won the war”

“W-W-W-what t-the fuck, w-what war Arthur?”

"The one you and Randall had; do you see Y/N? you finally beat Randall. I'm so glad I helped you to win"

You started to cry again. You remembered how you said some like that to Arthur before, when you and Randall had discussions.

Why did Arthur have to become something as horrible as a murder? Why did your best friend have to get infected by the poison of this rotten city?

You can’t see him anymore. You were just waiting for the moment when Arthur would get up and end with your life, you hoped your death wasn't as violent as Randall's.

“I’m not gonna hurt you Y/N if that you think…”

You trembled again, and you could hear that voice you knew from him. Arthur got up off the ground and came to you “Come here, you've got to go” he offered help you getting up offering his hand. But it was his blood-filled hand.

It was too much for you, and when Arthur realized his mistake and changed hands, you had already fainted.

…

You didn't know how much time you fainted. When you woke up, you weren't on the cold wooden floor, looking at that horrible scene, you were on a comfortable bed with old sheets.

Everything in your mind was cloudy, as was your eyesight. Was that real? You didn't remember sleeping in that bed before.

"For a moment I thought you were never going to wake up."

You looked at the origin of the voice. There was Arthur, but different, again. His green hair dried up, wearing a clown makeup similar and at the same time different from carnival. He was wearing a red suit, a yellow vest (Was Carnival west?) and a turquoise shirt.

Smoking, he was standing in a corner of the room, looking at you.

“Arthur?” You asked nervously, you were so weak to get out of bed.

“Yes, Y/N?”

Your mind reminded that bloody image before you fainted, and you felt the need to clarify something.

“Arthur…That… That was a nightmare Arthur, right? That was no real, right? Please, tell me that was a nightmare”

Arthur looked at you worried, left the cigarette and went where you were, sitting next to you while you were still lying down.

"I'm so sorry Y/N, you shouldn't have seen that…” Arthur apologized, worried about you, at last you could recognize him “He lied to Hoyt, saying I wanted to buy him a gun, when he actually gave me that gun"

“Arthur, you should to tell me that…” You said it in a lamenting voice. Arthur just shrugged.

"I know. Randall said not to, because you wouldn't understand... Fuck…”

Arthur started caressing your hair and head. Gradually, you didn't know if it was because you were still a little afraid of him or because you had gone too long without seeing him, you were back to trust with him.

"I'm sorry you've become this" You told him honestly. You knew Arthur could sometimes lose control when everything in his life got out of hand, but you never imagined he'd be able to do something like murder.

“Y/N, but this is the real me”

“What?”

“This is the real me, I discovered it a couple of weeks ago, it was painful, but in the end, I feel good, I feel really good"

He looked so lost, it hurt so much to see Arthur like this. When he said he had discovered his "true self" a few weeks ago, you began to suspect how he did it. But you were so afraid to confirm it.

"How did you find out this is the real you?"

“I can tell you a secret, Y/N?”

“Yeah”

And your suspicions came true.

“I am who killed that three rich guys in the subway. I’m am the clown who everybody talks”

The tears almost came out instantly again, but this time in silence. You closed your eyes, you didn't know what to think, what to do, what to tell him

You could only ask one thing.

“… Why?...”

Arthur crouched down his gaze, remembering that shadowy moment. He saw you cry again, he owed you an explanation, he had to give it to you.

“… They didn’t stop to beat me. It was like the assault of the alley, but worse. If I hadn’t killed them, maybe I was dead”

You could see how he started shaking, it seemed that Arthur felt so bad just to remember that terrible experience. How the hell could he have survived to all this?

“Arthur… Oh my god Arthur…” So many things to process in your head again, you could only say one thing “You don’t deserve this shit”

Arthur began to wipe your tear-soaked cheeks, and passed his finger through your watery eyes.

“But I have it”

You didn't know what else you could tell Arthur. You're speechless. However, he had a lot to tell you, starting with something Arthur carried from the beginning of that terrible cruise.

“I'm sorry if I was mean to you these weeks… I didn't want to get you involved in this… This is all so dark for you, I wanted you to be away from me” You could see how he wanted to avoid his look at you "I didn't want you to be placed in this, I didn't want you to be injured by these bad decisions I made" He took your hand, you let him do it.

You sat on the bed, with your free hand, you took his cheek, making he see you.

"You have no idea how much I missed you, how many times I went to bed before sleep wondering if I'd done anything wrong with you”

However strange it will sound, at least you hadn't ruined anything, at least your Friendship was still intact. And knowing that made you cry again, you didn't know if happiness because in the end Arthur didn't hate you, or sad to just remember that last call.

Arthur saw you start crying and immediately wrapped you in a hug.

“I was a fucking idiot with you, Y/N. Please, forgive me” You hugged him too, putting your hands on his back and your head on his chest. You could hear his heart's fast-paced beats” You were never mean to me Y/N, you were the only one who was nice to me”

He took your hand to his mouth and left a little kiss, took your cheeks and left another kiss on your forehead, and one more timidly on your cheek. You smiled shyly at that, feeling those same butterflies when you saw him coming to Ha-ha's or when you saw him eat some doughnuts from that restaurant he loved to go to.

“Don’t forget Gary”

He smiled so silly, you too.

“You’ve right Y/N”

Arthur and you started to laugh. Finally, you could laugh together. A little break for both of us, a little break in your lives.

Arthur for a moment stopped smiling, but there was no aggression in his face; there was a strange feeling you couldn't decipher.

”Y/N… Can I confess you something?”

“Yeah…” you prayed internally that he wouldn't confess to you another crime or murder. You wouldn't stand something like that again from Arthur.

But it was quite the opposite, what your heart long craved and desired.

“Y/N, I love you…”

And again, you get speechless. And blushed too. You looked into Arthur's eyes. He had just confessed his love to you.

“Arthur…”

And of course, you weren't going to miss your chance.

“I wanted you to know because… You probably won't see m-“

“Arthur, I love you too”

You interrupted him, confessing your feelings too.

“What?

“I love you; I love you too Arthur”

His surprised face said it all. Arthur started shaking and feeling so strange, he could feel his heart beat too hard, and he didn't know if that was happiness. Arthur was able to felted the happiness for a few seconds.

“That’s true, Y/N? You love me?” He asked very hopeful. You couldn't help smile at him. You couldn't believe he felt the same way about you, too.

“Of course it’s true Artie, I love you”

“Oh Y/N… Fuck” He hugged you so tightly again, you just tried to hug him too. You heard a little sob come out of his mouth “Why? Why just did this have to happen to me?"

“W-What you mean Artie?” You asking to him worried.

“Oh Y/N… I confessed my love to you because maybe you never see me back… Well… I wanted you to know. But I Never expect you to feel the same way about me. I never thought anyone would be able to love me”

You ignored the first sentence he said. You only focused on the latter, that he thought no one would love him the way you did.

“Arthur… How could I not fall in love with you?"

Arthur smiled as little tears flowed from his eyes. It didn't matter if those tears would ruin his clown makeup, he'd put it back together later.

However, things couldn't be perfect, you separated from him (But still hugging him) to ask him that question, referring to his first sentence.

“But why you said I’ll never see you again? What you mean with that?”

You were afraid to ask about that, but you did it anyway. That "new" Arthur was like a new unread book, and you discovered it little by little.

“Oh… Well…” Arthur didn't know what to tell you, how could Arthur explain to you what he planned to do just when you had just confessed your love to him? Even if you didn't love him, if you just love him as a friend, he couldn't find a way to explain what he was going to do that night “You remembered The Murray Franklin Show? When together we watch the show?”

“Yeah, I do Art” Smiled shyly to the memory.

“I’m be gonna be on tonight”

You were surprised, you didn't even doubt whether or not was true Arthur was telling you, you could only feel good about him.

“R-Really Arthur? That’s… Amazing…” You smiled to him so honestly. Wow, one of his dreams was about to come true.

“But I don’t want you watch the show”

And the smile disappears.

“Why not Arthur?”

He stopped hugging you to look at your face one more time. Stroking it with his fingers, he passed two fingers on your lips. The feeling was hypnotic, caressing you that way, just as he had done only in his dreams. You were so beautiful for him.

And he realized you were going through a lot because of him.

“... I hurt you a lot Y/N, first being mean to you and then with what I did with... With Randall... I don't want to hurt you again, Y/N, you don't deserve that"

He prayed for you understand him, he prayed that you didn't ask more questions, because if you did, he wouldn't be able to lie to you again, but he wouldn't be able to tell you that he planned to kill himself in the Murray’s Show.  

Just when life gave him another chance to go on living: All the love he felt for you, every gram, was reciprocated

“Oh Arthur… You... You're not going to do anything wrong, right?”

“I hope that”

“Y-you said we probably won't see each other again because... I don’t know, why you think that?"

“Just don’t know Y/N…”

“You’re afraid to the police recognize you or something like that?”

You asked so naively, hoping that would be the answer.

“I wish it was that Y/N, I really wish it…”

With those words, you decided not to question him anymore.

Silence between you two. He kept caressed your face while you kept looking his face under the makeup. Through your gazes, you two wanted to say thousands of things to each other, and you did, but only in one way. Arthur grabbed you by the cheeks and brought your face to yours, along with his lips with yours. He kissed you, and felt like it was heaven.

Both kissed in several times, you didn't care if your lips and around them ended up crimson, Arthur didn't care if he could run out of time to go to the Murray’s Show. It was what had both waited for a long time, you two deserved to enjoy it.

And without you realizing, slowly, besides love, desire began to meddle.

Suddenly, you started to lie in bed again, and Arthur went after you, putting himself on top of you. Arthur's hands started to caress your neck and shoulders. He separated from you only to appreciate the gorgeous girl who loves lying front him. An abominable desire inside Arthur started to burn him. An arduous pain.

And the only cure was loving her in that barbarous way.

He kissed you again with a wet kiss, so hungry of your lips.

His hands go down to your chest, and in his ecstasy, he caressed your breasts. You didn’t expect his touch, but your decided to delight it. You let him do it, while slowly, you started putting your hand under his shirt, touching the ardent skin of his chest, just as you imagined.

Excited, being grateful to yourself from the past to choose a dark skirt to use that day, you opened your legs to him, offering yourself to Arthur.

“Arthur… Please…”

Arthur, seeing you like this, felt like you were something divine, like you were crystal, afraid of breaking you, but he wanted you so badly. He needed to be with you, he needed to be a part of you, and you to be a part of him.

However, despite how emotional and exciting it would be to do that act of love with you, he stopped, separating you from you and clenching his fists.

He closed his eyes, and sadly had to have self-control. He thought coldly the things, if you did, if he made the love to you, you could get too happy and enthusiastic about him, and if he carried out his plan for the Murray’s Show, your heart would break into a thousand pieces, you'd blame yourself for not being able to save him, and you'd be depressed all your life.

He didn't want you have a depressed life like he had.

“No, Y/N…”

It must have been a little funny that your face full of ecstasy will suddenly change to one full of surprise and confusion. But he, despite everything, he wanted to keep protecting you.

“Why not Art?”

“… I can’t…”

He stopped seeing you because he was ashamed not to love you the way you begged him.

You don’t say nothing, but you respect his decision. You took his cheek, looked at him with love and a huge smile, you wanted to make sure everything was okay.

“Don’t worry, it’s okay Artie, I swear” You smiled sincerely at him. At the end of it all, he respected you, and of course, you were going to respect him.

Arthur saw you again, smiling at you.

"You have to go home Y/N" you say yes with your head. Both got out of bed, but when you were about to walk through the door, you remembered that terrible scene. You turned to Arthur scared and hugged him.

“No, Y/N, listen me, I've taken care of that. There's nothing anymore"

“C-Can you take me to the door, please?"

“Sure” Still hugging you, Arthur took you out of the room, you walked through the hallway and as he told you, there was no evidence of murder in the living room but some bloodstains.

You fell back into reality by remembering that. Arthur Fleck had become someone different from the one you knew.

Arthur came to the door and took the knob, open it. You thinking on that. Arthur noticed how serious you suddenly turned and feared.

“Y/N? Are you ok-“

You push the door to closed it with your hand, and carrying your arms to his neck, you kissed him deep. The last kiss with him

Maybe Arthur could change for the worse, maybe it wasn't the same Arthur you knew, the one you'd fallen in love with. But for some strange reason, reason you didn't want to look for logic, you love him, you still love him, and there was nothing in the world that could change your mind.

He clearly told you were likely never to see each other again. You didn't want to believe that, you didn't want to believe that neither he nor you would ever see each other again. You were clinging to that slight hope that they would soon be reunited.

And if destiny decided not to be like that, then you'd only ask Arthur for one thing

“Please, don’t forget me”

You two looked each other in the eye.

You’ll treasured that last moment between the two.

“Never, my love”

You opened the door for him and ran out of his apartment. You felt the door close behind you. You ran down the stairs, battling the feeling of crying.

Arthur looked out the window as you ran away from the building. Letting go of the only chance of his life to be truly happy.

But you were always a little rebellious, and Arthur wasn't going to be the exception. As much as he asked you not to, you'd see The Murray Franklin’s Show that night.

Continue

[seriouslyhooked]

When We Collide (Part 3)

Emma Swan has always known one thing: trust no one but yourself. Unfortunately she forgot her one rule and now she’s paying for it. One bad decision led her to the monstrous ‘Crocodile’ a mobster in New York who goes by the name Gold. Hope seems lost until she meets another person in this underworld, Killian Jones. Despite the place they find each other, a true love blossoms, and they manage to get away. But what will happen when Emma discovers who Killian really is? Will love prevail? Um, yeah, I’m writing this, so duh – it’s all love all the time. Fic features motorcycles, hot guys in leather cuts, and a bit of action/drama. Will end happily, and despite the first chapter, will be light on angst. Part 1, Part 2. Available on FanFiction Here and AO3 Here.

A/N: Hey everyone! So we are back again for another installment of this new fic, and I have to admit it’s been so fun to write this. It’s a strange new tone for me, but I’m trying to marry my love for fluff, and the intrigue/peril of this story that my muse dreamed up. There’s much more to come, but I am also trying to keep chapters shorter this go around. I definitely will end up with more than the 12 I was planning originally, but just in terms of pacing, it’s a changeup to have the shorter chapters that I use to have. Anyway, regardless of length, I hope you will enjoy this installment, which shows Emma and Killian post-Gold while also providing a flashback too. Can’t wait to see what you all think, and thank you so much for reading!

Five days into their drive towards destiny, and Emma was really starting to wonder – how far away was home exactly?

Okay to be fair, she knew where they were headed – a tiny town not far from Big Sur, clear across the country from Gold and his crew. Killian had told her as much weeks ago, but only when he was certain they wouldn’t be overheard. She loved the idea of California, never having been there herself, but she didn’t really account for how long it would take to travel that many miles. They rode and rode every day, but they could be traveling further if Killian would let them. She tried to tell him as much, but he disagreed. Responding every time with thoughtful things that made her heart melt a little more:

“I won’t risk you hurting, love. Not when you are everything, my heart and my soul.”

“You may not realize it yet, but the road can be unforgiving. Best to take it easy, especially when the cargo is as precious as you.”

“Please, Swan, let me have this. Let me take care of you. Trust in me, Emma – I promise, I won’t ever let you down.”

At every stage of this journey Killian had put her comfort first, which was wild since they were really on the run. Still Killian treated this like it was a trip to be remembered, instead of one to be rushed through. Emma was amazed at the places they’d been staying, and how each one was out of the way while still being beautiful and well-kept. They never stayed anywhere too populated, always choosing local hideaways over hustle and bustle or household names, but every place had its own organic beauty and charm. They explored these little safe havens, talking and loving and living together, and every stop along the journey, Emma felt the weight of her fear ease away. The further they got from New York the freer she felt that she was. And the thought of her freedom was so perfect, especially if she could spend that freedom with a man she loved as fiercely as Killian.

“What’s put that smile on your face, love?”

Killian’s words washed over her at the same time his arms wrapped around her, hugging her from behind. She closed her eyes and let out a happy sigh, loving the fresh air and the hum of the natural world around them on the balcony at this little bed and breakfast they’d happened upon. They had ‘the best room’ in the house, which was to say a stand-alone cottage at the back of the inn, and it felt private and peaceful and perfect.

“Just this guy,” she teased, loving the growl that Killian released. Leave it to her man to get jealous over nothing. There were no men in her life like him, certainly none that mattered, and he knew that. Still it was fun when he got all worked up, and the vibrations of the grumble he’d let out mixed with his roaming hands made her body tense in the most pleasurable way.

“Ah, anyone I know?” Killian joked, nuzzling into her neck and laying a kiss on her skin that made her shiver. Unable to resist, she spun around in his arms and melted into him, her hands resting on his chest.

“Hmm, it’s hard to say. You see not a lot of people know him – the real him. He’s mysterious that way.”

“And you?” Killian asked, his voice taut with sincerity as he dropped the charade. “Do you feel you know me?”

Looking into his eyes, Emma saw how important this question was to him. After years of hiding himself in darkness, working with Gold and other evil, vile people, Killian was wary of himself and his worth. She saw the doubts that he carried, the worry in his heart, but she knew this man completely. Honestly, she’d known there was more to him from the start. Something honest and real. But if she’d still needed convincing that he was good and true and kind underneath it all, he’d handed it to her in one perfect, thoughtful moment that sealed the deal and stole her heart…

And there it is:  I, Emma Swan, am officially homeless. Again.

The weight of that knowledge cut Emma to her core. For years she had worked day in and day out to claw herself into something resembling stability. After years in her foster homes, and more on the street and living in her car, it meant everything to her to have a place, a real place, to call her own. In fact, it meant so much to her that she’d paid up front to her landlord. She didn’t want to risk him looking for new tenants, so she always paid promptly and in full. This time she’d actually taken it further, giving three whole months rent, just before this all went down. Her landlord was grateful, but still clear with her – just because she paid up front, didn’t mean he’d accept late payments. And now she was late. A full month behind, and just entering the window for eviction. When the clock struck midnight, she’d passed the final day. Her home would now be vacated, cleared out, and everything she owned would be tossed, sold, or stolen.

The reason she knew how this would all go was because she’d seen it many times. Her building was filled with people who for, whatever reason, could not pay the bills. As such, a number of them had been evited, and always with the same cold, calculated precision. The landlord didn’t even show himself. He hired workers to clear it all and used the cops to intimidate people into leaving. It was awful, but it was life. And now it was her life. Damn it, why the hell was this her life?

“Yo, blondie, you gonna get us our beers, or you gonna keep staring at the clock some more?”

The rude call from one of the patrons snapped Emma back into the moment, and she fought tooth and nail to force the tears in her eyes from falling. She had yet to let these men see her pain, and she would die before she ever did. As badly as this hurt, as agonizing as this was, she couldn’t let it show. She had to keep moving, keep going, and just remember that the most important thing was to survive.

The next few hours were all a blur of rowdy miscreants and a lot of ballsy drunks. The worst part, though, was that Killian wouldn’t be by. He mentioned to her the last time he was in that he was going on a run. He’d be out of town for some time, and wasn’t supposed to be back until the end of the week. She’d only known him for a little while now, but it was a disappointment when he didn’t stop in. Seeing him made all the difference in her day. He kept the savages at bay, and though they both did their best to be discrete, she felt his presence, sensed his eyes on her any time they could be, and savored every moment when he came close, asking for a drink or paying his tab at the end of the night.

Thinking of those good moments ultimately got her through the rest of her shift, and through some kind of small mercy, Sydney let her out a half an hour earlier than he normally would. She was excused from after-hours clean up, and for once she took the out, rushing upstairs, hoping to get away from everyone and everything. She reached for her keys, as she came down the hall, but her door was open as she got closer and immediately her guard went up. No way in hell she’d left this door open. She was always meticulous about keeping it shut. Then there were footsteps inside and she looked in to see the one man she’d been missing most of all.

“Killian?” she asked, shocked at seeing him as she raced inside. How was he back so soon? And what was he carrying in that cardboard box? Wait, was that…?

“Emma, love, you’re early,” he said, looking totally caught off guard at her entrance. “You’re shift’s never over at this time. You’ve usually got -,”

“That’s my stuff,” She said interrupting him.

“Aye,” he said, looking defeated. “Well it’s what I could salvage any way.  As soon as I heard, I tried to get back sooner, Emma, I swear I did. But by the time I made it, so much was already gone. This was all I could save.”

Emma reached to the item on the top of the box, the one thing she actually cared about – her blanket, emblazoned with her name, and still bearing the same scent of honeysuckle and an ocean breeze that it always seemed to have. It was like magic, that smell, imprinted on the woven bands that made this knitted shrug as long as she could remember. No matter where it was or what it had seen, the smell always remained, comforting her, and making her believe that it must have been crafted with love. It was a sign to her that there had been people who loved her, for however brief a time, and this was their one precious gift to her.

“I’m so sorry, Emma. If I had known this was happening… I tried to reason with your landlord, to pay off what’s due just to buy you more time but -,”

Dropping the blanket back into the box, gently, Emma pulled the cardboard compartment from his hands and tossed it onto the couch beside them. Then she stepped into Killian’s arms, cupping his face, and kissing him surely. There was no other way for her to make him see how much this meant to her. No words could be uttered, no thanks could be shared. All it took was a single second for him to be there with her, holding her close, wrapping her up in a warm embrace that made her feel whole when for so long she was broken. It was transcendent, so much more than just a kiss, and when they finally broke apart to breathe, Emma looked at him and saw the heat and the care and the goodness in his eyes. She knew then that she trusted him. That he was honorable and true, despite the line of work he was in, and that she was scarily close to falling for him, in a total and irrevocable way.

“I can’t believe you did this. No one’s ever cared, I mean, no one even thought…” Emma felt tears threatening again, and she closed her eyes. Unbidden, they fell, and then she felt Killian’s thumb swipe them away as he came to hold her. She opened her eyes again, and smiled through the little bit of crying. “Thank you, Killian. Thank you so much.”

“You deserve the whole world, Emma,” he said, staring at her so intently, a battle going on in his mind that she couldn’t quite read. “Fuck me, just one more taste.”

He growled out the words and pressed his lips to hers again, this time taking things even further than before. This was a kiss of hunger, of passion, of wanting. It was a spark that flared brightly, a flame catching into a burning fiery force, and she loved it. She needed this, needed him, and didn’t realize how dulled and cut off she’d been. To get through this she’d been numbing herself, surviving but not living, but in his arms and with this kiss, she felt so alive. More so than she ever had in her life.

Too soon the kiss was over, and this time, when they broke away, Killian straightened, putting a bit of distance that she hated between them. “Much as I might like to take this further, Swan, I can’t. You’re vulnerable still. Reeling from the day, and if we continue…”

“When we continue,” she said boldly, causing him to shake his head even as that wicked, sexy wanting sparked back to life in his blue eyes.

“If we continue, I won’t ever stop. One taste could never be enough, and two will damn near kill me. If I taste you a third time, you’ll be mine.”

“Yours?” she asked, her heart thudding in her chest even as the voice in her head pleaded with her to make that jump.

“Aye, mine. Right now, my world is ugly, Emma. Far too ugly a place for a woman like you. I need to make it better. Need to find some light before I let you in. But I’m only so strong. The next time you kiss me, there will be no turning back. You’ll seal our fates. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Emma whispered.

“Good,” he replied, grabbing his leather jacket, his hands curling into fists as he put it on and made for the door. Then he looked at her, a million things left unsaid between them for a beat until he finally nodded at the door. “Lock up behind me.”

She nodded, and was going to ask him to wait, but she was too slow. He raced out of the apartment, like he was scared to make good on his word, and Emma was left stunned. Her lips still tingling from the feel of him, and her whole body buzzing in kind. She made her way to the door, following his order to bolt everything in place and then she leaned against the wood, pressing her back against the cool paint finish. Her hand came up to cover her mouth, and she looked around the room, her eyes catching on the box once more. Then she smiled and closed her eyes, knowing that the next chance she got she was kissing that man. Consequences be damned – she was going to be his, and she sure as hell hoped he’d be hers in return...

“I don’t feel that I know you, I know that I do,” Emma said honestly, coming back from the memory and into this moment with Killian once more.  At her words, he let out a sigh of relief and she ran her hand along his jaw. He leaned into the motion, clearly loving the feel of her soft skin against his rough beard, and she wanted to give him that comfort and certainty. “We may not know every little detail about each other yet, but that doesn’t change the way I feel. There are ghosts in our past, and dreams of the future that we maybe haven’t shared, but I know you, Killian. I know you and I love you.”

“Gods I’ll never get enough of that,” Killian said holding her close, before making a heartfelt confession of his own. “And there will never be another woman I love so much as you, Emma. You were it for me the moment I saw you. You’ll be it for me until my final breath.”

“Only until then?” she teased, trying to lighten the mood and laughing when he growled again and pulled her so close they were centimeters away from a kiss.

“You know what happens when you tease me, love.”

“Mhmm,” she said, breathlessly confirming that she did as she licked her lips. She waited agonizing moments for him to kiss her but then he surprised the shit out of her throwing her up over his shoulder and heading downstairs and out towards the lake. She shook with laughter, confused as to what he was doing until they reached the sand and he put her down.

“Loose the dress, Swan. I make no promises on your salvaging it if you leave it to me.” She shivered at the command in his voice. Damn he was hot. Especially when he went all alpha like this. Luckily, they’d been dressed for a possible swim, so she had a newly purchased swimsuit underneath.

Holding his eyes as much as she could, Emma delighted in how focused Killian was on her. But then he returned the favor, losing his shirt and she was lost. She always got dizzy seeing him like this, and that feeling lingered through their swim and as they sprawled out on the dock some time later. Letting the heat of the fading summer sun dry them off, Emma hummed out a sound of contentment. Okay, honestly, this right here was the life. But as that thought went through her mind she shot up, looking all around them suddenly frantic.

“Emma what is it?” he asked, genuine concern lacing his voice.

“We can’t be like this, can we? I mean we’re on the run,” she whispered. “Gold could find us. He could -,”

Killian silenced her with a kiss, thoroughly distracting her before explaining his seemingly lax behavior. “Gold has been successfully brought into custody and is none the wiser of my involvement in his demise. His lieutenants have also all been charged, and the henchmen have gone to ground. The syndicate is bleeding, Emma. There’s no one around to ask questions, and you and I are not the only ones in Gold’s service who’ve made a run for it.”

“How do you know?” Emma asked.

“I have my ways,” he grinned, and she rolled her eyes but smiled all the same. “And don’t think for a second that I’ve made any compromises on your safety. We’re relaxing as we are because I have complete and total confidence in the safety of our stops.”

“What did you do, set up some trip wires or something?”

“Didn’t have to – the whole place has surveillance capabilities set up already.”

“It does?” Emma asked, shocked and Killian laughed.

“Aye, love. Tiana’s special forces.”

“You’re kidding,” Emma said, looking at him for signs of jest. “Wait, seriously?”

“Seriously. Her mother runs the inn when she’s deployed, but this place is a haven of sorts. Most of the places we’ll land over the next week will be.”

“Wait, so you’re telling me there’s like a secret, high tech, military bed and breakfast system scattered across the country?” Killian laughed heartily at that and shook his head.

“Not quite. As you’ll recall, not every place we’ve stayed has been like this. There are simply many, many favors I had to cash in from my days with the SEALs. This is one of them.”

“You’re incredible, you know that?” Emma asked and Killian’s look softened as he held her close.

“I’d be anything for you, Emma.”

“All you have to do is be yourself,” she promised, kissing him sweetly but pulling back just as the kiss was set to begin. He groaned at her absence, and watched with warry eyes as she stood up, moving away from him. With motions so fast and controlled she marveled at them he got up too, never letting too much space between them.

“Change your mind, on something, love?”

“Hardly,” Emma said grabbing her dress and toying with it, but not putting it back on. “I was just thinking…” she said, letting her gaze run down his body as she licked her lips. God he was gorgeous, and time was doing nothing to dull the effect he had on her.

“What were you thinking?” he ground out, moving forward again, but she put her hand up.

“Trust me, honey,” she said, knowing how much the little pet name riled him up.  “Nothing I’m thinking is fit for this place. Way too public. For what I want, we need a bit more privacy.”

“As you wish,” he promised, once again sweeping her into his arms and making her melt against him. And as he carried her away, no doubt towards a night of steamy passion in his arms, Emma felt what it was to be truly happy. For though the road was still uncertain, and their future might not be totally clear, she had faith it would all work out, as long as they had each other and many more moments like this one.

Post-Note: Okay so some of you are no doubt cursing me for not writing out the smut. I know exactly who you are, and let me just say, I have no intention of defending myself. I was mean like this on purpose, but trust me, I’ll make up for it in this fic many times over. In the meantime, I hope that you guys enjoyed this little glimpse into the present and the past. I want to include some memories from their shared from the dark days as much as I can, and from their lives before Gold too, and the only way I know how to interact with that kind of angst, is to wrap it up in present day fluff. Anyway, hope that you all enjoyed, and I appreciate your cheering me on and letting me know what you think. See you all next time!

[kaesaaurelia]

fine quality copper ingots

For @whumptober2020 day 29: I Think I Need A Doctor (specifically "reluctant bedrest")

Continues on from day four, wherein Aziraphale met up with a distraught coworker, waited for Crawly at the base of the Tower of Babel, and then it fell on him, day five, wherein Aziraphale did his best to help the citizens of Babylon, and was caught by demons for his trouble, day eight, wherein Aziraphale found brief and unexpected camaraderie among the prisoners of Hell, day eleven, wherein Hell tried to make a deal with Aziraphale, day twelve, wherein Crawly finally stops by, and doesn’t help, day fourteen, wherein Hell subjects Aziraphale to a very unpleasant experience, which is admittedly kind of Hell’s brand, day twenty-four, wherein all the lights go out and Crawly someone springs Aziraphale and guides him through the tunnels of Hell, and day twenty-seven, wherein there’s an earthquake and the tunnels of Hell collapse in on both of them.

This is the end of the Tower of Babel fic!  I’ll be posting this to AO3 at some point, probably this weekend.

Aziraphale/f!Crawly, with a little post-canon Aziraphale/Crowley bit at the end as well.  Mild respiratory distress and wing wounds discussed, but nothing gory; this installment is mostly hurt/comfort.

It took them a while to reach the top of the stairs, and Crawly had been hurt badly by the cave-in, but the growing window of light and sky above buoyed Aziraphale's spirits enormously, and he thought Crawly felt similarly, although she was having such a difficult time that Aziraphale ended up tsking to himself and carrying her.

Crawly was indignant, at first. "Angel, don't be ridiculouss --" she started, before she had another coughing fit; Aziraphale decided that was permission enough to be ridiculous, and Crawly raised no more objections.

When they emerged into the light, it was into the city of Babylon once more, and things were much calmer than they had been before. All the light gave Aziraphale a bit of a headache, and also, he had to put Crawly down or they were going to get very strange looks.

They made their way to an inn, and got the attention of the proprietor. "Don't think she speaks any of our languages, angel," said Crawly, hoarsely.

"Have you got a room?" Aziraphale asked her, loudly and slowly, and she rolled her eyes at him and said something incomprehensible. She seemed to be asking a question, and she pointed at both Aziraphale and Crawly in turn. She held up two fingers, and looked inquiringly at the two of them, and then mimed sleeping.

"Two, yes. Two beds," said Aziraphale, because he really needed a rest, and she presented them with two keys. "No, no," he said, "only one room. One!" he said, holding up one finger. "But two --" he held up two fingers, and mimed sleeping again. "Two beds."

"Ah!" said the proprietor, and took back one of the keys.

"But has this one got two beds?" Aziraphale asked, gesturing again, and she assured them in gestures, yes, go to the room.

So Aziraphale tried to take the key, but she tugged it back, and demanded payment -- the procedure for this was that Aziraphale laid out coins on the table, hoping at some point she would agree that it was enough coins, and she watched, and then, eventually, Crowley hissed, "She's cheating you, angel," grabbed the key quicker than the innkeeper could take it back, and pulled him off to go to the room. (Then she'd had another coughing fit on the stairs up, poor thing.)

This was how they ended up with one room with one bed. It was not ideal, but in fairness, Aziraphale supposed he should have expected this.

"Was I not clear enough with her, do you think?" he asked, frowning down at the bed.

"It'ss fine, you were fine," said Crawly, still winded. Technically she didn't have to breathe at all, but she did need it to speak, and also, once you were in the habit of breathing, not doing it was very uncomfortable.

"You should lie down," said Aziraphale, "you sound dreadful. Is it all just stuff in your lungs, or did you break something?"

"I don't know, and I don't --" She began coughing again, and reluctantly sat down on the bed. "Ow," she said, miserably, once the coughing fit was over. "Fuck. Could you get... sstuff out of my lungss and I'll -- angel what the fuck," she said.

Aziraphale had got out his wings, so that he could finally heal them, and he'd been ready for the pain, but he'd forgot how bad they would look, especially ignored for however many days he'd been trapped in Hell. "Got caught in the tower collapse," he said. "I suppose... I suppose that didn't have anything to do with you after all."

"No!" she said, and began coughing again. Aziraphale dragged the dust out of her lungs with a miracle, and she was able to breathe more freely, although she still winced whenever she moved. "Thanksss. Let me ssee your wingss, they're awful, I'm sso sorry you had to -- Satan, did the whole tower collapse on you specifically or what?"

"It sort of leaned over and fell, and I didn't get out of the way in time," said Aziraphale, unhappily. He sat, and winced as Crawly ran her long fingers gently over the wounds, treating them with stinging healing miracles.

"So you didn't have anything to do with it either?" Crawly asked.

"Me? Why would I --"

"Heaven did it, ssomehow," said Crawly. "Didn't they?"

"Well, they didn't send me to do it," said Aziraphale. "I'd have told you! And not been standing under the tower waiting for you." He winced and tried to stay still as Crawly set one of the bones in his wing. "How did your meeting with the copper merchant go, anyway?"

"Horribly," said Crawly. "Basstard tried to cheat me. I mean, I knew he was going to do that, I'd sussed him out as a good target for being tempted to greed early on, but that wasn't what I was there for," she said. "Actually, if it'd gone well maybe the tower could've stayed up a little longer."

"Oh?" said Aziraphale. "Crawly! Were you trying to save Babylon from this awful disaster?" He was very touched. "I mean, it was going against God's will, that's properly demonic, I suppose, but --"

"I wasn't trying to ssave anybody," Crawly insisted. "Have you talked to the people who live around the tower? I mean, not now, can't talk to them now, they won't understand you -- but before, I mean. Did you get a chance to talk to any of them about it? There, I think that'ss the last break, try the left one," she said, tapping his left wing.

Aziraphale spread the wing experimentally, flapped it, folded and unfolded it, and it felt sore, but otherwise fine. "Yes, I think you got them all. Thank you, my dear," he said, and he realized as her hands paused in running over his right wing, what he'd called her. "Very kind of you," he said, quickly, to distract her.

"I'm not --"

"And no, I hadn't talked to any of the people who lived nearby. What would they have said?" he asked Crawly. He winced as she fixed another break.

"Well, they didn't like it at all," she said. "Ruined all their views, didn't it? Gave them shade when they didn't always want it. You have a nice little second floor apartment in the middle of the city, and then suddenly this great bloody tower springs up like a -- like a -- well, it’s awkwardly phallic, only instead of just being not what you want to see, it takes up your entire front room window and makes it too dark to do anything indoors. They were so angry about it," said Crawly, sounding very pleased with this. "Try the right wing now?" she suggested.

Aziraphale tested his other wing. "Much better, thank you," he said, and he was a little surprised that she pulled his wing back towards her. "What are you doing?"

"Well, they look awful, don't they? All clotted blood and messy feathers everywhere, I'm embarrassed to be seen with you, frankly," said Crawly. "I'll have to neaten them up."

It felt... good, having someone else run their fingers through his feathers. Aziraphale tried not to think about it; it needed doing, and she had offered. "All right," he said.

"Right!" she said, starting in on his wings. "Anyway, I thought, well that's a good source of misery, that is. And maybe other people will try and build bigger ones, and land will start getting horribly expensive because there's a big tower craze and you can fit more shops and tenants into a tower than you can into a regular building. Only... what if lightning strikes the damn thing? Then it just burns and maybe kills the people at the top, and the tower's not appealing at all and everything goes back to normal."

"Mm," said Aziraphale, who was having a bit of trouble paying attention, because he hadn't quite realized what a terrible state his wings were in until she'd started cleaning them up, and goodness, that did feel good, didn't it? "Sorry, what does the copper have to do with any of this?"

"Well, I had an idea about redirecting the lightning," she said.

"Towards... people you don't like?" Aziraphale asked.

"No, no! Just, to the ground. That'd make towers safe. Or, safer, really. And then more of them would be built and they'd cause everyone misery as everybody tried to build bigger and bigger buildings and eventually they'd all run out of money and stone and wood and they'd be stuck with their big stupid buildings, all hating each other."

"Do you really think so?" Aziraphale asked. "I thought it looked quite nice."

"Well, sure, that one did, but once they start being the thing to build there'll be imitators and some of them will be substandard and everybody knows the sequel's never as good as the first one." Crawly sounded so pleased with herself that Aziraphale felt bad contradicting her by reminding her that there would have been even nicer towers built, once human architects really got used to working with the medium. It didn't matter; it was against the Will of God, so it wasn't going to happen, anyway.

Aziraphale decided, also, that he'd better neaten up his own wings, because that felt -- maybe -- too good? Yes. Best not to make any sort of mistakes. He didn't want to end up in Nisroc's shoes.  "Well!" he said, folding his wing in front of him, and standing up to walk away from the bed. "I think I can take care of the rest of this, Crawly, thank you for healing me. I think you ought to rest up, though, you've been through so much."

"But --" She looked very disappointed.

"I'll stay here with you if you like," said Aziraphale. "We haven't even had that lunch yet, have we? Why don't we do that tomorrow?" he suggested.

"We don't have to -- if you don't want --" She looked embarrassed, for some reason.

"Crawly, you did save me from Hell, I do think I owe you lunch, at the very least, and, well, I know you like sleep, and I think you need rest. I had to carry you up those stairs!"

"Didn't have to," she muttered. "But... oh, fine," she said, rolling her eyes. "If it makes you happy." So she lay down and closed her eyes, and if Aziraphale ended up settling in next to her, one newly-preened wing laying over her, that was his own business. And if Crawly ended up deciding she was too comfortable to move and going back to sleep for another few days, well... nobody had to know.

--

Aziraphale felt that he really ought to stay in town and see that Babylon recovered adequately, and Crawly had decided a city where nobody could understand each other was optimal for her wiles, and so, a few weeks later, they both still happened to be in town, by coincidence, and had met up for lunch, also by coincidence, nearly every day.

"One thing I would like to know, Crawly," said Aziraphale, over a very strong drink that he didn't think was quite what he'd meant to order. It was very good, at least. "What was that awful drawing of Satan you were terrorizing me with?"

"He was remaking a fallen angel," said Crawly, as if this much was obvious.

"Ah. So you were telling me I was going to be 'remade,' said Aziraphale.

"What? No! I was telling you you had to wait until he was busy with all of that," said Crawly, pouring herself another glass of the mysterious drink. "Because of the blackouts. They had some really powerful, you know, big names in Heaven, I guess, and I knew the lights would be out for a good long time."

"Ah," said Aziraphale. "That's -- that's not how I interpreted it." He felt a bit sheepish now. "You could've been more clear, though."

"I'm not a very good artist, cut me some slack, Aziraphale," she said.

"Did you know the earthquake was coming?" Aziraphale asked.

Crawly shook her head. "Knew there'd be something like that, but I wasn't thinking earthquake. With the stronger ones, anyway, when their powers come back they sort of... echo. It's hard to explain. Usually not earthquakes, though."

"Did you have to go through all of that?" Aziraphale asked.

"Everyone had to go through all of that, angel," said Crawly. He must have looked appalled, because she went on, reassuringly. "And then you get your new name, and then you're done, and it's fine."

Nisroc had mentioned this, but it hadn't really stuck in Aziraphale's mind. "Did -- I'm sorry, did Satan name you Crawly?" he asked.

"I didn’t have much input," Crawly said, and then downed the rest of her cup. "It's fine. I'm used to it by now."

"I don't know why I expected anything better out of Satan," Aziraphale admitted.

"Could be worse. At least I don't have to work for Heaven anymore," said Crawly, and grinned at Aziraphale's sour look. "Definitely worth it."

"Well. I suppose we'll have to agree to disagree," said Aziraphale.

--

Several millennia later, Aziraphale remembered a question he'd been meaning to ask Crowley for a while. It was a lovely morning -- it had been a very lovely evening -- except that the news on the telly today was all about some people who were very angry about a new, very expensive tall building going up in front of their own, extant, very expensive tall building. It was not the first time he'd heard about something like this, and it would probably not be the last, but when Crowley came up behind him and buried his face in one of Aziraphale's wings while wrapping his hands around Aziraphale's chest, it was the first time he had the opportunity to ask the question just as it occurred to him.

"Dearest," said Aziraphale, waiting for Crowley to be done with this. He did get very silly about Aziraphale's wings sometimes, which was very flattering and quite delightful in the bedroom, but also it was sort of inconvenient the morning after, when Aziraphale wanted to sit down for a while, or go for another cup of tea.

"Mmh?" Crowley asked. He unburied his face and kissed Aziraphale on the cheek. "Yes, angel?"

"Did you --" Aziraphale gestured with his mug of tea towards the television, where the announcer was gravely explaining that the views outside of some very rich people's windows were going to change, and that this upset them greatly. "Was that you?"

"No, they did that on their own, I'm afraid," said Crowley. He tsked to himself. "The Americans got all the credit for skyscrapers. And the lighting rod! World's not fair, angel. I suppose it's what I get for making all those claims about starting wars and whatnot in my reports Downstairs."

"Well, I'll always know you were ahead of your time," said Aziraphale. He turned to give Crowley a quick kiss, but it lingered, and he shivered as Crowley ran his fingers along the edges of his primary feathers, with the lightest, most delicate touch. Eventually, reluctantly, he pulled away, and smiled at Crowley's surprised look. "I thought I wanted another cup of tea," said Aziraphale, putting his nearly-empty mug down on the coffee table, "but I think that can wait." He kissed Crowley again, and this time, pushed him back towards the bedroom.

[doof-doofblog]

"I Want My Son!"

Monday 19th October 2020

Good Evening everyone! Hope your week is going well so far. Tonight I'll be reviewing Monday's episode, my plan is to do two blog posts tomorrow so when Friday comes I'll be all up to date! I apologise once again for slacking a bit this week - it's been a busy one that's for sure! I'm just going to jump straight into it!

The episode starts with Ben and Callum discussing Phil in the kitchen. Ben informs his boyfriend that his Dad as been pacing all night, racking his head about Ellie and Raymond. He explains that they don't even know if Ellie is her real name, considering she's just taken 5 grand off them under false pretences! As Ben is explaining the whole situation to his boyfriend and how it's really hurting Phil deeply, something in the way Callum looked, could he help in someway? Will he able to find any information on Ellie at work? Will he do this to help his boyfriend and his Dad? Or even just to help Ben alone so he can find his brother, something is telling me that Callum will act and perhaps do a bit of digging off his own accord.

Outside on the Square, Max approaches Ian - it's been perhaps about week or two so since he's threatened him, demanding him to give him his money back. Ian happily informed Max that he should have his first instalment that morning ... however, it's what he happens to mention next to his son Peter which starts to ring alarm bells ... he's borrowing money off someone else to pay Max back! I'm just putting it out there, but I'm convinced it's Kathy! He's taking money off his own Mum just so he can pay off his debts! Is it the money he's received from selling Kathy's Cafe?! Has Kathy's Cafe been sold to someone else? Oooo so many questions that I need answers to! But Peter does look a bit suspicious of his Father after he questions him about it!

At home, Denise is confiding in her boyfriend, Jack, about her decision to give up Raymond. She explains that all she wanted to do was to give him a better life, a life she couldn't give him. She informs him that herself and Phil were never meant to see Raymond again, but now things have changed and she can't bare the thought of Phil getting involved with the toddler. Jack consoles his girlfriend and informs her that he is going to sort things out, one way or another and make it all go away. I'm unsure as to how he's going to do that, but I don't think he's going to find a way of getting through to Phil. When Phil wants something, he goes for it, especially where his family is concerned. Meanwhile on the Square Callum finds Phil in the gardens sitting on Dennis's memorial bench, he says to Phil that perhaps he could do Ellie for fraud in an attempt to get him his money back, but the next sentence spoken from Phil really touched me "I'm getting used to losing sons now, aren't I?!" - That is something that no one should ever have to say! I feel so devastated for Phil! I think I asked this a while ago but I am really eager to find out who you're backing in this current story ... are you Team Phil, Team Denise or Team Ellie?! I think I'm Team Phil - all the way!!! ... As Phil thanks Callum for the offer of the attempt to get his money back, Phil walks away looking very solemn.

Meanwhile, at the Cafe, Gray and Shirley are having a one-to-one. Gray is informing Shirley that he feels ready to have the children back living with him, even though it's only been a day or two since he attempted to blow the house up. Shirley informed the grieving Dad that his children are doing fine with their Grandparents. Suddenly, Mick walks in looking for Linda - it then that Shirley tries again to talk to her son, she asks politely whether she can take her Grandson to the park, Linda agrees, much to Mick's disapproval - as you can clearly see by the look on his face - but the only thing Mick mentions is how pally Shirley has become with Gray all of sudden, after slagging him off for having a go at Linda last week. Little does Mick know actually why she's started being there for Gray, they have no idea what she walked in on.

At the Vic, Bobby brings Sharon some boxes for the Queen Vic stock, he's quite reluctant to even pass the boxes over to her. She tries to reassure him that she's healthy but Bobby asks her politely to keep an eye on her temperature, just in case. The one thing I forgot to mention in last night's post was how Bobby was counting how many times he was wiping and cleaning the cutlery. 5 times he would count and make sure he'd washed everything thoroughly! He had even laid everything out on the kitchen table! This is definitely going to be some kind of OCD storyline for Bobby, what do you guys think? As Bobby walks behind the bar, Kathy let out a little giggle and announces she's made a match on her dating app. Ian isn't impressed with his Mother and insists she's too old to be dating - which I think is completely rude! You can date at any age, why can't the older generation have any fun?! It doesn't matter whether you're 17 or 70 - everyone deserves happiness, right?! I found it hilarious when Sharon cackled at the reveal of the name of Kathy's match - Iain (with an extra I)! I also noticed the fact that Kathy pointed out that the gentleman happened to be 43, to which Ian commented "Does he know you're 70?" - obviously us viewers know that Peter has changed her age on her profile, I feel so sad for Kathy at this point because she is actually acting incredibly happy and giddy to have finally met someone, and yet they aren't even aware of her real age - could things go wrong for poor Kathy? Or will she find the man may look past the age gap and fall for her properly?! Next thing, Peter asks his Gran whether she's aware of Ian borrowing money to pay Max back, of course she has no idea who he's borrowing money from - wait till she finds out it's her money, she'll be fuming!!

Oooooh no! The next scene makes me fear for Honey's future! She and Jay are delivering food parcels for neighbours - it's clearly something she must've been doing over the recent months during Covid-19! It appears her food parcel is for an elderly lady but instead, a young gentleman answers the door by the name of Paul. He thanks Honey for bringing the parcel round and compliments her by saying it's a fantastic thing she's doing for her community. He insists he takes her number so he can help out. Of course, our precious Honey is all smiley. But something tells me that this Paul is bad news! Recently it's been revealed that EastEnders is going to kick off a new dark storyline for Honey and it'll have something to do with a new love interest named Paul. This Paul!! I also read recently - I don't know how much truth there is in this but, Honey will end up being raped after having her drink spiked! Will Paul be the culprit? Will Honey be aware of what's happening? Will it be another consent storyline? Rape and consent is something that is covered a lot in soaps, but it's something that tragically happens to both men and women every day! It's something that needs to be portrayed and something that people need to talk more about, I feel that watching these dark moments happen in soaps, does help for victims to seek help and speak up and not suffer in silence! I'm sure EastEnders will cover this story carefully.

Oh it's been a while since we've seen that horrible Detective! Callum is in desperate need though, he probably can't find any other way. He asks him for help in finding information about Ellie Dawkins. It's only then that he finds out that he real name is Ellie Nixon that she's some kind of "Gangster Granny!" - I think Callum's idea is, if he gets information on Ellie to give to Phil, he'll be able to report back to him with information of Phil. But something tells me he won't really, he's just lying to help his boyfriend's Dad out. But will he stick to it?! The Detective (Sorry, I can't remember his name!) informs Callum that if he wants to know everything about Ellie it's going to take him all day to be given the information! Ooo could there be whole big file about Ellie and why is she so dangerous?!

Back at the Beale household, Kathy is excited to see that Iain (with an I) is wanting to take her out on a date. FINALLY Peter comes clean about changing her age on her dating profile. He approaches the subject carefully, trying to compliment his Gran by saying she doesn't look or act the age of 70 - which I agree she doesn't, but at first Kathy doesn't really mind suggesting that maybe 60 would be okay, but when Peter admits he went below 60 and put her age at 45, she's absolutely mortified that her Grandson has knocked a quarter of a century off her actual age! It's then that Ian walks in and Kathy confronts him about borrowing money pay Max back. It's clear to see that she's concerned for her son, she informs him that to help she will remortgage the Cafe, but Ian is quick to instruct her not to and that there'll be no need for her to do that, she insists that the offer is there if he needs to help! ... I honestly can't wait for Kathy to find out that Ian has been stealing money off her!

In the Cafe, Honey and Jay are discussing the new fella they've just met. Honey is unsure as to whether Paul was flirting with her, but Jay is adamant that he was and tries to persuade her to message him. He gives her a good point, she shouldn't let what happened with Adam ruin future possible relationships, she deserves happiness and she should go for it! Whilst he is trying to persuade her to go for it with Paul, he mentions that he's a bit worried that Lola is getting bored of him. Which is really sad really, he admits that during lockdown they've had to live apart and, to him, it feels like instead of going forwards, their relationship is going backwards. It's a bit of shame as I've always thought that Jay and Lola were a brilliant couple and they've been through so much together, perhaps the younger version of Kat and Alfie - in the sense that they belong together, don't you guys think?! However, something maybe tells me that Jay has a little crush on Honey or perhaps has feelings for her? I could be looking into something that isn't there - it even may even come down to the fact that Jamie Borthwick (Jay) has admitted he's had a crush on his co-star Emma Barton (Honey) for a long time! What do you guys think, would Jay and Honey make a good couple? It would be an interesting road to go down, considering Billy was always there to help bring Jay up as a kid when his Dad passed away, and Billy also being Honey's ex-husband!  

At Ruby's club, Jack is meeting up with the Detective ... THOMPSON! That's his name!!! It's just come to me!! This looks like this is Jack's way of getting rid of Phil and putting Denise's mind at rest. He informs DI Thompson about the attack Phil played upon him at the end of the last year. He admits he didn't report it for personal reasons but asks whether he'll back him up just go get rid up Phil Mitchell for good! DI Thompson says it's a little bit too late, considering any evidence would be long gone, he informs Jack that Phil Mitchell isn't worth losing his job over. It's looking like Jack's attempt has failed, but will DI Thompson take this information and confront Callum about it? Does Callum even know about the attack? Will he use this information to put Phil behind bars? Who knows?!

Back on the Square, Shirley bumps into Mick, she seems ready and excited to take her Grandson out to the park, but Mick informs her that his son is at a friend's house. Something tells me he's done that deliberately just so his Mum couldn't spend time with him. Shirley tells her son just because he's angry with her, Ollie shouldn't have to miss out on time with his Gran. Mick only then makes a dig at his Mother saying he's just trying to be good parent - putting the dig in that she wasn't to him! It's then he sees Gray exit the Minute Mart and he calls over to his neighbour that the only reason Shirley is hanging around him is because she wants something, he informs him that the Slaters have asked her to leave so Gray should watch his back. However, Shirley has only had to leave the Slater household because Stacey moved back with Lily. As Mick walks off and Shirley walks in the other direction, Gray follows and informs Shirley that she's welcome to stay with him as he has spare bedroom. He points out that she did him a favour and he wants to repay her. Shirley agrees. I have to admit, I like the new friendship between Shirley and Gray - it's two characters that I would never have put together, but it's nice that they have this mutual understanding with each other and what each other have been through. But should Shirley be careful? What do you make of this new found friendship? I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Returning to the Beale household, Peter is seen scrambling through the draws as if he's finding something. As he's doing this, Bobby approaches and asks is older brother whether their Dad will be okay. It appears that young Bobby is worrying that if Ian is borrowing money, is he going to eventually find himself in a deeper hole that he won't be able to get out of? Peter reassures his young brother and insists that their Dad will be fine, he always lands on his feet. With that, Bobby breathes a sigh of relief and leaves the room. As he leaves, Peter continues to search in the draws and finds an envelope addressed to Kathy. He looks inside and opens the letter - what has he found?! Will it be some kind of paper work which confirms the selling of the Cafe?!

Meanwhile at the Mitchell household, Callum comes rushing in to his boyfriend! He's found news about Ellie! He reveals to his boyfriend that Ellie Nixon is her real name, and the car crash that little Raymond's parents were in wasn't an accident at all, but in fact a retaliation attack. She is the reason they're dead. She and it seems the whole family are dangerous. Ben is dumbfounded to hear the news he's being given. He instructs his boyfriend to not tell his Dad. Phil cannot find out, otherwise it'll start a war between them and that is the last thing they need right now. But suddenly, Phil walks in - looking as if he's heard just a small amount of what they were talking about. What can't he know?! But they're stuck now, they're going to have to tell him! Raymond is his son and he deserves to know the truth - as does Denise! If Phil finds out the truth, will he also inform Denise? Will they team up to get Raymond away from Ellie?!

Back at the Beale household, Peter is reeling over the letter he had just found. Suddenly his Dad enters the room and Peter takes his chance to confront his Dad and asks the very important question - Why would Kathy offer to remortgage the Cafe, when it turns out she already has?! So that's what Ian's done, he's not sold it, he's remortgaged it - still, he's still stealing from his own Mum! Ooooo he's such a weasel isn't he? He convinces his son that Kathy didn't want anyone knowing and she told Ian in confidence that she's having cash-flow problems, he also plays the guilt-trip to his son, asking why does he think so little of him? Why doesn't he support him?! Oooo I don't like Ian right now, he's being sneaky and lying to everyone around him and I don't like it! He's going to be found out soon, surely? It can't be long until Kathy finds out the truth!

The final scene of this episode, we're back with the Mitchell's and Phil is reeling from what he's been told. His head is running away with him saying he'll get Ritchie involved and he'll track down a phone number and an address. But Callum mentions that he's got a phone number, Ben warns his boyfriend not to hand it over. But Phil is desperate, he takes no chances and dials the number that Callum gives him. Ben looking absolutely gobsmacked as to what is happening around him, warning his Dad that he's not thinking straight. I love how passionate Phil is in this moment, he dials the number and we here the dial tone ring, Ellie answers and Phil is quick to the point! He wants Raymond!!!

I am so excited to see what's going to happen with this storyline. In all honesty, I love any storyline involving Phil Mitchell at the forefront! Steve McFadden is absolutely incredible and I can't speak highly of the man, he's such an astounding actor, blows me away every time he's on screen! What do you think is going to happen next? I aware I am perhaps one or two episodes behind, but I'm going to try my absolute best to post up two posts tomorrow, that way by Friday I'll be completely up to date. I hope you've all enjoyed reading, I've quite enjoyed writing this post! I'll be back tomorrow. Goodnight everyone! Love you all! xXx

[fic-for-fic-sake]

The Journalist and the Winter Soldier

A/N: This is the third installment of my new Bucky x reader series, here are links to the introduction as well as the first chapter. Also sorry for all the technical jargon in this chapter, I’m a journalist. 

Chapter 2: 

Not sure where to begin and with an awkward interview subject, you began unzipping the bag that housed your tripod. You softly tutted to yourself as you set it up and began taking your camera out of its bag and mounting it on the tripod. You turned on the power and looked through the viewfinder to see where the eye line was. Damn, a little too high. You walked around your tripod, carefully turning each leg so it could collapse in on itself. 

“You need any help?” Barnes’ voice rang out from behind you, unsure but offering anyway. 

“Uh, no I’m okay.” You said, flashing him a small smile, “I’m used to setting up by myself. I just need to make sure we have the right sight line.” 

“What’s that?” He questioned, cocking his head to one side. Some chestnut brown locks fell over his shoulder and in front of his eye and he used his fingers to sweep them away. That was the first moment you really noticed just how striking he was. Sure you had seen his pictures but they really didn’t do him justice. You felt your cheeks warm with a flush, despite your best efforts not to. 

“Well, if the camera is too high, the audience will be looking down at you, too low and they’ll be craning their necks. We want them to feel like they’re in the room with us, it’s more personal that way.” You explained as you adjusted the camera to your liking. You leafed through the camera bag until you found the lav mic you were looking for. You slowly strode over to the Sergeant and held it up to him. 

“This is your microphone,” You began to explain, “If you could just weave this wire under your shirt and then clip it to your collar that would be great.” You suspected it wouldn’t be too hard for him, given the fact that he was wearing a simple black tee-shirt with a fitted leather jacket over top. Leg muscles rippled through the soft denim fabric of his dark wash jeans and thick soled boots were on his feet. 

“Wow, these were a lot bigger in my day.” He commented, almost jokingly, as he did as he was told. Interesting, he was warming up to you, maybe this interview wouldn’t be so bad after all. You pulled out a thick piece of white paper and held it out in front of the camera, concentrating. 

“What’s that for?” He piped up, hands fidgeting with the clasp on the lav mic. 

“White balance.” You responded absentmindedly, clicking a button and smiling when the screen read that the balance was done. 

“Come again…” He responded, clearly confused. Shit, you forgot that he probably wouldn’t know what that was. One because he was born in a time before cameras were widespread and two because not everyone was a journalist or a photographer. 

“Sorry, uh, it tells the camera what true white is, so that all the colors look how they should. If I didn’t do that you might come out looking blue and we couldn’t have that.” You smiled, trying to return his playful banter from earlier. You did a quick sound check and then made sure the camera was recording before you took your seat opposite Barnes. 

“One last thing,” You said, pulling your notepad out and holding your pen at the ready, “make sure to look at me and not the camera.” 

“Why?” He retorted curiously, “I thought you said the point of the eye line was so that the people felt like they were in the room with me.” You couldn’t help but smile at that. You couldn’t believe that he actually remembered that, you figured he just asked out of polite obligation. You also chuckled slightly as you remembered asking the same questions he was the first time you ever worked with a camera in college. 

“They should, but if you look at the camera straight on, it usually creeps people out. So we like everyone to look a little bit into the distance, just makes it easier that way.” You explained as you squared your shoulders to face him. You cleared your throat as you looked down at your notepad at your first question. 

“So, I saw in the Smithsonian that you had enlisted in World War Two. But I couldn’t find anywhere if you enlisted of your own free will or if you were drafted.” You noted, lacing your fingers together in your lap and waiting for his response. 

His back seemed to go rigid as he sat up ramrod straight, slight calm from before now fully forgotten. “I was drafted.” He replied, short and to the point. 

“Did that in any way shape how you looked at the war?” You questioned, pen poised to make adjustments to your notes if needed. 

“What do you mean? I knew who was bad and there was a job that needed to get done so I did it.” He responded tersely. 

“Right,” You began, softening your tone ever so slightly, “What I meant was, do you think your perspective was colored by the fact that you were drafted? Was going to war something you were mentally prepared for?” 

“Well, I don’t think anyone is really ‘mentally prepared’ for war.” Barnes responded, back slouching ever so slightly, “At Camp McCoy they trained our bodies but not our minds.” He finished with a faraway look in his eyes. You had heard about him being brainwashed during his time as the Winter Soldier, you were wondering if that was what he was currently.thinking about. You decided to put a pin in that. 

“Right. The mind was never a concern of theirs. Before World War Two nobody really knew what Post Traumatic Stress Disorder was, after the war they just called it Shell Shock.” You noted, showing him you understood what he meant. “Do you experience any sort of PTSD today from your time in the war?” 

“Uhm, I mean, there’s so much that’s happened since then, that’s a hard one to answer.” He dodged the question expertly. You decided you should probably switch gears before he shut down on you. 

“Let’s talk about re-acclimating.” You decided, flipping to the next page of your notes. You could see Sergeant Barnes eyes roll a little bit and a small chuckle escaped his mouth.

“Everyone always wants to know how I’ve re-acclimated since my Winter Soldier days.” he said with a huff. Like he was expecting this question. 

“Well, I’m not everyone, Sergeant. I was wondering how you’ve adjusted to life as a civilian after almost an entire century spent at war.” You deadpanned. You could see the subtle upturn of his lips, he was pleased. Impressed. Good. 

“Well I wouldn’t say what we do here,” He gestured around broadly, as if to encompass his point further, “is exactly civilian life.” 

“Understandable.” You chuckled your response. “But it must be different than what you’d been doing before. How does it feel to go into New York and just be yourself? No longer viewed as ‘the bad guy’.” You put the word in air quotes. 

“It is nice to go out with less of a disguise on than before, I’ll give you that.” He conceded. He looked like he was more relaxed now. 

After about 15 more minutes you decided you had everything you needed for your interview. He even offered to help you carry your equipment to you car, which you appreciated. Once everything was loaded in the backseat you opened your door to get in. You extended your hand to the soldier for one final handshake. 

“Thank you so much Sergeant Barnes, it’s been a pleasure. If I have any more questions I’ll contact you. The interview should be online sometime next week.” You noted. 

“I’m the one that should be thankin’ you.” He replied, his Brooklyn accent a welcome sound, “For gettin’ my reputation back on track and everything. And please, call me Bucky.” He replied, shutting the door for you when you sat down behind the steering wheel. 

“Thank you, Bucky.” You said, a slight blush on your cheeks from saying his nickname. You made your way down the asphalt path towards the front gate again, looking in your rear view mirror you could see Bucky waving at your car from a distance. 

Taglist: @heatherhollowayst

[onewaywardwitch]

Just A Typo (6/?)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Hacker!Reader

Summary: It was a simple challenge between a very competitive group of friends. A challenge that ended very differently than anticipated.

Warnings: Language

Word Count: 2275

A/N: I’m so happy to finally get to post this part! I’ve been most excited for this one. Thanks for all the love on the previous parts, enjoy part 6!

If someone had told me a month ago that I'd be spending my days working as the security analyst for Stark Industries and my nights chatting with the Avengers, I'd have asked how much they had to drink. It's amazing how an illegal act can completely turn your life around, and not in the ‘sent to prison’ sense.

Fortunately for me, Wanda took me under her wing. She was determined to have another female presence around in a tower overflowing with testosterone and I wasn’t complaining. I appreciated her company just as much as she did.

Everyone was far more welcoming. Well, almost everyone. Natasha still seemed adamant on ignoring me. But with Sam constantly joking around with me, it was easier to forget about it. I had become a common visitor of the residents upstairs and I loved getting to know their actual personalities rather than the superhero personas the world had grown so used to seeing. Like how Tony won’t speak to anyone before his morning coffee. Or how Bruce has to be brought food throughout the day, or else he would simply forget to eat.

But Bucky remained an enigma that I couldn’t crack.

It wasn’t that we didn’t spend time together. We did. And many times, I enjoyed being near him more than some of the louder Avengers. We were never hanging out alone, though. He was a lot quieter when I was around, but I didn’t take it personally. He was obviously still a bit nervous being around anyone other than his teammates, but I liked to think that I was growing on him. At least he sat down and talked to me with everyone else now, instead of just running out of the room. And I adored having more than just two friends. The top floor had quickly become a second home to me.

~~~~~

I ran my hand through my hair for what felt like the seventh time in five minutes. For some reason, the system I was planning on installing for Stark Industries was not cooperating with me. I was forced to keep changing around the algorithm and every new sequence was rejected, not working in the slightest. It didn’t help that I had already gone through a full pack of Haribo and had none left. Timothy, one of my co-workers with a strange love for the worst movies ever made, kept glancing at me every time I let out a frustrated groan. Whenever he looked over, he opened his mouth as if to ask me something, before closing it again. It didn’t take long for me to snap.

“If you’ve got something to say spit it out. You look like a fish doing that.” I should have felt bad for snapping at him. He was a nice enough person, and I had been informed by the secretary down the hall that he harboured a small crush for me. Unfortunately for him, I was prepared to pick a fight with anyone. He just happened to be on the receiving end of it.

“I, um, I was just wondering if you... if you needed a hand with whatever you're working on?” he asked me, nervously wringing his hands.

I stared blankly at him. My lack of response caused his expression to change from slightly hopeful yet nervous, to absolutely terrified.

Stop it, don’t be a bitch, he’s just being nice. You can do this, politely decline his offer. There's no need to make a scene.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Well, that didn’t work.

“Am I not capable of doing it myself now, huh? I can do it perfectly fine. The system is stupid, that’s all. I don’t need your help because you'll end up pissing me off even more than you already have.”

Wow, ok, enough. Close your mouth. Bite your tongue. Walk away. Do anything other than talking to him.

“And also, you are literally the only person in the world who actually likes ‘Sharknado’.”

Why? Why would you say that? You absolute idiot.

I turned back to the computer that I was incredibly close to smashing as I ignored Tim’s deflated expression. He moved back to continue on with whatever he was working on himself. I typed in new lines of code on my screen, praying that these would work. While I waited for the outcome, I started to feel a bit guilty. I was stressed about my job that I was really desperate not to lose and I was taking it out on whoever was closest to me, which just so happened to be Tim.

“Oh shit!”

The second I turned to apologise, I felt hand on my shoulder, scaring the absolute crap out of me.

“Sorry! I called your name and you didn’t answer. You looked deep in thought,” Bucky said uncertainly. I instantly relaxed in his presence and chuckled.

“It's ok, my fault anyway. I should have been paying attention to what was going on around me. It just gets interesting up here sometimes,” I tapped my head as I spoke.

Great, now he thinks you're a lunatic.

Bucky offered me a small smile, which I had come to expect from him. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Tim. I tried to ignore him. I really did. When he first saw Bucky come over to me his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. That look of awe turned to one of amusement when he saw me make a complete fool out of myself. I stared pointedly at him until he got the message and returned to his computer. Bucky raised his eyebrows at me, and I shook my head in reply.

So much for Tim’s apology.

Bucky cleared his throat. “Um, Tony sent me to get you. He wanted to talk to you about, er… something computer related, I think.”

“He could have called me, you know. You didn’t have to come all the way down here.”

“He wanted me to get you in person. Plus, I had to talk to someone down in communications anyway.”

I nodded and got up to leave with Bucky, completely forgetting about the system that had me wound up only minutes ago.

~~~~~

Why does elevator music always make everything so uncomfortable and awkward? I was desperately searching for a way to fill the silence but for once in my life my mind was blank. I heard Bucky mumble something, seemingly to himself. I brushed it off before he spoke up more confidently.

“I like your jumper.”

I swear, I had never turned red so quickly. It felt like my whole face was on fire. How did everything he say make me feel so giddy?

“Thanks! But it's actually my friend, Angie’s. She left it at my apartment a few days ago and I haven’t had a chance to return it yet. I don’t know why I said that, it's a lie. She forgot it at mine over a year ago and I really like it.” I didn’t think I could blush any harder. I was wrong.

“You're really close with your two friends, huh?” Bucky questioned. I relaxed quickly. I always found it easier to talk about anything that wasn’t about me directly.

“They're complete idiots, but I love them. They're my family. I'd be lost without them. I mean, Becca’s good fun and Angie is our designated babysitter most of the time.”

He let out a low laugh. “I guess I know how she feels. I'm always running around after Steve, trying to make sure he doesn’t get himself killed.”

“Really?”

Bucky also seemed more at ease with the direction the conversation had taken. “It was worse back in the 40’s though. He was picking fights left, right, and centre. There was no super soldier serum to help him back then. He was just a kid with good intentions and twig-like arms.”

The ding of the elevator interrupted our chat. We stepped out, but I paused before we walked any further. Bucky turned to question me, and I stared open-mouthed at him.

“God, I was such a bitch to Tim!” I exclaimed suddenly, Bucky looking at me in surprise. “He was just trying to help me, and I-.“ I couldn’t even finish my sentence as I was overcome by fit of giggles. “I told him that nobody likes ‘Sharknado’ except for him!”

“Shark what?”

“Have you never heard of ‘Sharknado’? We have to watch it! It's a terrible film.”

“If it's so bad why do I have to watch it?”

“Because, it's a good bad movie. You watch it knowing it's going to be terrible and then you just give out about it afterwards. The full 21st century experience,” I explained to a very perplexed superhero. “Let’s go, best not to leave his royal highness waiting.”

~~~~~

Turns out Tony had summoned me to ask a single question about my work, before requesting advice on the nicest cafés in the area to bring Pepper to. We spent nearly an hour arguing over which is nicer, pancakes or waffles. He refused to accept the fact that pancakes are clearly superior and resorted to folding his arms and huffing like a child.

I finally made a move to leave when Tony told me he had some Avengers business to attend to.

“Next time you want a chat,” I said to him as I put on my jacket,” just give me a call. You didn’t need to send poor Bucky all the way down to me. He probably has better things to be doing.”

Tony snorted. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? He volunteered to get you. The second I mentioned I needed to talk to you, he all but ran off to find you.”

I scoffed and chose to ignore what Tony had said. “Bye, Mario!” I yelled back to him, making sure to close the door on his sounds of annoyance.

~~~~~

Some people can sense bad things just before it happens. Hairs standing on the back of your neck, chills down your spine. Some sort of sixth sense, I guess. Unfortunately, I wasn’t one of those people.

I was sitting in my empty, broken bathtub with my laptop, as you do, when I heard the crash. My head shot up immediately, staring at my bathroom door that I had left slightly ajar.

“It's nothing, you're imagining things.” I tried to convince myself I was hearing things until I heard what I assumed was one of my mugs crashing to the ground.

I could feel my heart thumping in my chest, and I willed myself to calm down. Placing my laptop carefully aside as quietly as I possibly could, I crawled out of the bath and creeped my way towards the door.

I peered my head out, nervously chewing on my lower lip. It was only a matter of seconds before I gasped and closed the door in panic. I made sure to do so silently and I held a hand over my mouth to control the ragged breaths that I could no longer control.

With shaking hands, I locked the door and took out my phone that felt stuck in my pocket. My only focus was calling the first person that popped into my head.

“Come on, come on,” I muttered, begging for a small ounce of luck.

“Miss me already?”

I sighed in relief. “Tony, there’re people in my apartment. Can you- can you send someone over please. I'm kind of panicking.”

There was a momentary pause and a sharp intake of breath on the other side of the phone before-

“Y/N listen to me. You need to get out of there right now. We’ll be there as fast as we can. Can you get to your front door?”

“I can’t, they’ll see me.”

“Shit,” I heard Tony breath out. “Alright, odds are they’re looking for your laptop so hang tight, hopefully they won’t be looking for you.

I groaned internally and stared at my laptop that I had forgotten about in the bath. Just my luck.

“Yeah, that’s not going to work. My laptop is with me.”

“You bring your laptop to the bathroom?”

“Some people bring their phones, I bring my laptop. Stop judging me.”

Tony decided to ignore my last comment, instead informing me that they were on their way. He asked if I could still hear the people in my apartment.

“Um, no, I don’t think I- “

The bang on the bathroom door made me jump and I clutched the phone tighter. I covered my mouth with my hand, willing myself to stop shaking. A second bang, and I took a few steps backwards slowly. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the door that I knew wouldn’t withstand much more. It took me a few seconds to realise that Tony had been shouting my name.

“Tony,” I whispered,” please tell me you’re nearby.”

I could hear him talking to someone else, his impatient tone not doing anything to reassure me.

“Still 10 minutes out, kid.”

Before Tony could even finish his sentence, the door came crashing down. I screamed, trying to shield my eyes from the splintered wood.

A man dressed entirely in black tactical gear made a move to grab me, and I dropped my phone in a panic.

“TONY!” I screamed. My attempt to remove myself from his grip was futile. He had grabbed my body and dragged me to where the rest of his team were waiting in my now destroyed kitchen. I was so distracted that I didn’t notice the fist that flew towards my face before everything went black.

Taglist (open):

(if there’s a strike through your name it means I couldn’t tag you)

(if I forgot to tag you just send me a message)

@amybarter15 @imperialoath @throw-some-music-my-way @mamaraptor @marbleowl @lydklein1 @wantingtobekorra @alysawrites @uhholyhazza @ladymelissastark @sarcasm-n-insomnia @foxylupines @myrabbitholetoneverland @amazingficsthatididnotwrite @markusstraya @padfootormoose @worldofchoices @just-some-stuff-in-life @colie87 @catsandbooksinafarawayplace @littleblackdressxx @thequirkypeach @astronomicparker @asguardiansoftheavengers @awesome-alysia @sebbystanlover-vk @unknownwonder @wowstiless @d-eracine

[readbythestarlight]

c2e62

Oh my god he’s starting the ad off actually talking about D&D Beyond??

"I have between 2-4 minutes every night to do whatever I want" a terrifying concept

Oh Sam. We made it 2 whole minutes without talking about genitals smh.

I’m so excited about them making a home here

I hope they post a picture with everyone’s rooms mapped out later

Caleb just using his cat’s paw to help Cad plant his garden

They’re all so cute and excited about the house (except maybe Fjord)

Wait he’s gonna grow his magic giant tree atop the tower???

Okay I love it, Cad and his giant tree atop his tower

Well now everyone knows where the weird heroes of the dynasty are living

Cad’s gonna just grow so much

Everyone else is decorating and Fjord’s worried about putting security shutters on the windows

He’s the only one not having fun with this, poor guy

AWWWW JESTER THAT’S SO SWEET

painting Yasha a pretty mural of flowers I cry

I’m having FEELINGS this is so SWEET

Caleb installing his own alarm system

Cad: "what this—" *leaves, buys copper* "there we go, chimes." :D

Ouch. That’s a 450 worth of gold, 250 if he has to do more than once

200g to keep his garden alive and sunshiny. Worth it.

Cad’s gonna make little fairy lights!

The neighbors are jealous of Cad’s fairy garden

AYYYYE finally working on the teleportation circle

Which.... makes me nervous because Yusah could easily trap them/hand them over to the Empire

LB, about the tree: "will it be like that all the time?"

F: "I think that’s how trees work, yeah."

—

L: with a Nat1 "I’m gonna go ask Fjord"

T: Nat20

Oh wait did he say Dark Tow?

"I’m fine" Fjord you’re a fucking LIAR

!!!!! Caleb put together the Alchemical lab for Yeza!!!!

Oh my god all I want now is Yeza and Luke and Veth living in a house with the M9 and they

Oh no

The letter

Fuck

Forgot about the letter

Oh no

I don’t think they said anything about money and inheritance did they?? And they mentioned Caleb’s name didn’t they?? Fuck I can’t remember what they said

OH HOLY SHIT IT’S FROM CALIANA

Gotta go back soon

Oh shit it’s from Solstrice fuck

Oh god they put their names

SOMEONE FIND ME THE CLIP FROM THAT LETTER

Yes god plz message mom and make sure she’s okay and warn her about anyone named Astrid or Ikathon

FUCK god what will this do to Jester and Caleb if they’re watching her or if they take her

These people have already hurt Nott’s family and now they could hurt Jester’s too and Caleb’s gonna feel so bad

N: "I just wanted you to have a friend."

C: "I have friends."

N: "Well you didn’t then."

IM HAVING FEELINGS AND IM SCARED

Caleb’s real jittery now

Mmmm given that you haven’t confirmed no bugs we shouldn’t be talking about Dairon maybe

While Caleb and Nott or Caleb and Beau are having serious conversations, the clerics are planning to build a spa xD

Boy I can’t wait for Caleb to corner Fjord I hope he gets something out of him

Caleb just whips that medallion out any time, like he has that thing ready

THAT’S SO MUCH GOLD WTF

Ohhhh I physically hurt

1000g that they could lose

I hope they call the house the Treehouse from now on

Ayyyy Essik!

B: "do you want to stay for dinner?"

Me: do you want to stay forever?

Ohhhh I didn’t catch that they took their surenames from the dens

"Show me"

Oh gosh

Caleb honey the cat? Really?

C: "My people are perverting your magic. I wish to understand better, so that I can better help."

E: "Are you busy right now" WHAT

E: "May I?"

B: "I invited you twice but yeah yeah enter."

They’re HOSTING

This feels like a trap

Like that’s as too easy right?? He only rolled a 12

"Let me teach you a few things"

OH MY GOD

WHAT

UP TO 3 SPELL LEVELS OF DUNEMANTIC MAGIC?!??

WHAT

FUCKING

WHAT

It’s a trap right it’s gotta be a trap

"Bending of fate, destiny" the whole table freaks out

Fucking

This is gonna be a trick it’s gotta be a trick

Frick guys I’m so in love with Essik

B: "Caduceus calls it a ‘White Xhorhassian’—"

E: "...Mildly racist, but..."

God I hope that wasn’t some sort of trick or trap for Caleb

Fjord and Caleb talk now oh boy

OHHH SHIT WAY TO LEAD IN CALEB

Why you lyin’ Fjord why you always lyin’?

Caleb’s trying to... help?

Boy remember when I felt like Fjord and Caleb were gonna be the bro’s

"What do you think, we’re gonna chase you out of here, run you off?"

YES THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT HE THINKS

"I found myself reinvented when I woke up on that shore"

"I didn’t care for that life, didn’t care for me. I prefer to leave it in the past. It’s not that I’m hiding anything from you, I... I don’t wanna bring things from my old life into this one. I can sound like many people, do many things."

God why do so many people in this group have pasts they need to hide from???

They’re both so scared the past is gonna swallow them up, hurt them and the people around them

C: "Because I worry about you all. And maybe I just want to know that you... are not worried about that as well."

F: "There is nothing that nips at my heels or at my back that is a danger to anyone else in this group." BUT IT’S A DANGER TO YOU FJORD AND THAT WILL MATTER TO THEM.

This talk is hurting me

C: "We can remake ourselves into something better."

F: "Yeah, I... that’s what I thought I was doin’. I can promise there is no danger from my past. I like this me, I love it."

God I’m so sorry that I ever suspected Fjord because I feel like a heel now

Caleb, trust him and don’t push. He’ll come to you when he’s ready.

C: "The only reason the group knows about me is because I am... Crazy"

F: "I don’t think you’re crazy, you’re one of the more out together people I know. At least that’s what you show. Thank you for... I want to say caring."

C: "That is accurate. Give me your hand. I am not a good person, but we are friends."

Also who else is crying because Caleb called them family

Also "give me your hand" slayed me I’m such trash for casual touches especially in a non-romantic sense

Perception check why

Back to the sword good good good

I thought for sure he was gonna say her hair was gonna start falling out

J: "By the second day it’s starting to turn greasy."

C: "My how the tables have turned."

Poor Sprinkle :(

Making a weasel nest in the tree

POOR SPRINKLE

"The big bad has been revealed" xD

"You throw some rats in there—" Taliein is dying of laughter

Sprinkle is going to run away

Guys Bryce is a town guard they don’t have time to just personally escort Luke and his guardian

They definitely need to get back to Luke, but it’s going to be hard to do at this point

Mmm Caleb wanting to ask Essik to get them to Alfield

Call me crazy, I wonder if they could ask the Gentleman for help

Or like, Cali or Keg or one of their friends

LIKE SHAKASTE

THAT’S RIGHT good thinking Nott! He’s not in Alfield probably I imagine, since y’all last saw him up near Shady Creek Run, but he would def help I’m positive and then he could guest star again

I feel like robbing a shop is probably not the best idea right now? Like even if they have a good reason I don’t think it’s the best plan

F: "Moro I don’t know how to say this but I... need you."

Oh my god FJORD xD

The glow is gonna be something stupid and pointless

The glow is something alive?? Someone invisible?

Hmmm interesting

"Oh my god it’s a front"

Of course they found drugs

Oh dang ground white stone. 1000g enchanting??

Okay so can they use it to help pay for Yasha’s thing?

Okay why does she have enchanting dust

In a place where an Empire spy is supposed to go

Ohhhhh they got a map!! New map new map!

Gonna lie I don’t like the idea of M.T. House. It’s nice to remember Molly but... idk

AYYYY GETTING IN TOUCH WITH SHAKASTE

We had so better get Shakaste back on the show!!

Please please please bring Khary back!

Oh dang yes the scrying worked!

Oh boy

"My liege"

If they choose to tell the Dynasty about this they’ll 100% be traitors, once and for all

Which like... I’m okay with. I don’t have any preference for the Empire and I like things about the Dynasty.

Scourgers...

Royal assassins

"My liege" is the King isn’t it

I really think they need to tell the Bright Queen

B: "Were they training you to be a scourger?"

C: "I think so." holy shit

God what if Astrid and whatshi are scourgers already

Have I mentioned how amazing Matt is to come up with all this and connect all these threads

Mmm Cad and Jester being a voice of reason

Cad: "Some things are too big to get on top of. Some things are bigger than us."

Cad’s being smart. They need to give a warning, not try to also control the situation.

Go immediately.

Where’s that whole thing coming from, Caleb? There’s really no reason to get that involved. Just like tell them what’s coming, that’s all you have to do. Listen, Caduceus is right.

Poor Beau

She’s kinda been stuck in a corner where she has to betray a homeland she’s not that fond of, but she is fond of Dairon

Oh gosh, Beau. :(

This is such a good moment for her, realizing that people are people wherever they are, that she doesn’t want to betray the people in the Empire, as little as she cares about the Empire itself

She’s not gonna slit your throat honey it’s fine

Boy next week is gonna be really intense again

[something-fanfiction-ie]

Interview About You

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings: None. This is pure fluff.

A/N: Okay, so I know I said I was writing smut and the third installment of Falling Hard But I was reading some other imagines for inspiration and I got the idea to write this. It’s pure, complete, heart-warming fluff. I hope you like it. 🤗

___

Tom laughed, leaning down to the foot of his chair to grab a drink of water. The interviewer took this moment to speak to Benedict, Tom’s ever present interview partner. As Ben spoke, Tom looked back behind the interviewer, he felt really bad about it but he’d already forgot the man’s name, and he saw you.

You weren’t paying attention to him, you were turned to Harrison, obviously in the middle of a heated whisper-discussion. Harrison shook his head and mouthed his response, and had Tom cared, he would have tried to read his lips to see what you were talking about, but he was too focused on you.

He watched you push back a stray piece of your hair before tossing all of your hair over your shoulder. There, in the profile of your face, he could see the aggravation wrinkle your nose as that same stray piece sprung free once more. Tom could watch you all day and still never get enough of the sight of you.

You looked over you shoulder, pausing your conversation with Harrison to look at Tom. You widened your eyes and tilted your head to left. Tom looked where you were gesturing to and realized that he had completely zoned out while watching you.

The interviewer looked on at him expectantly, his hands folded in his lap. Ben was also watching Tom, one eyebrow raised and a smirk on his face. Ben was a smart man, he knew why Tom hadn’t answered the interviewer after he called his name four different times. Ben tended to do the same thing when Sophie was in the room.

“What was the question? I’m sorry.” He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck as a light blush colored his cheeks. He glanced over at you to catch you covering your mouth with your hand, trying to hold back laughter.

“You have recently made your relationship public, yes?” Now this was a topic Tom was ready to talk about. He leaned forward in his seat, shuffling a bit to get more comfortable before he dove straight into the question.

“Actually yes, a little over a week ago. But we’ve been together three months.” He remembered meeting you like it was yesterday.

“I am such a huge fan of you!” The girl squealed, dancing in her spot not unlike a small child trying not to pee their pants. He smiled, a little uncomfortably. As much as he loved to meet fans, today was supposed to be a day off, and he was already surrounded by a hoard of squealing girls giving him a headache.

He signed a book here, a picture there, he took a selfie over here, and he sent a Snapchat video to a foreign friend/family member over there before he finally managed to break from the crowd, waving behind him as he went. Ducking into a random store to his right, just to get a breathe and hopefully loose any fans that may be tailing him, Tom was immediately struck with the overwhelming smell of aging books.

Looking around, Tom realized that he’d found himself in a bookstore unlike any other he’d seen before. On either side of him stood stacks of books that almost touched the ceiling. Continuing through the store, he would have compared it to a maze of books of all kinds. His head was craned to look up at the books on the top shelf as he turned into the next aisle.

A small, kitten-like sneeze disrupted his browsing and he stopped in his tracks. There was a girl, kneeled at the bottom of the shelves just a few paces away. To her right was a basket of randomly assorted books, on the left side of her shirt was a name tag pinned to it.

“Bless you.” She jumped, falling flat on her butt as she looked up at him in surprise, her hand over her chest.

“You scared me!” At closer inspection, Tom realized she was actually pretty cute. He realized that before he recognized her shirt. It was blue, and in the very middle was a picture of an atom surrounded by two banners that read, ‘Midtown School of Science & Technology Established 1962.’

And if that wasn’t good enough, she had a Spider-Man sticker placed just in front of her name on her name tag, which read, ‘(Y/N).’

He’d come in here to get away from fans and had run straight into one.

“Can I help you with anything?” She asked, brushing off the back of her jeans as she stood up. Tom watched her as she picked up the basket and looked at him curiously. He saw the recognition in her eyes, the way she held herself changed but she didn’t say anything. In fact, after looking at him for a few moments, studying him, she almost curled in on herself.

“No, I think I’m okay. I’m just having a look about.” She nodded her head and pushed back a stray piece of hair just to have it pop back out from behind her ear. She wrinkled her nose before repeating the process and responding.

“Well just let me know. I’ll be wandering the store putting books up and I’m the only one on shift.” She paused, shuffling her feet. Tom braced himself for it, waiting for her to ask him for an autograph or a picture or to say something, but it never came.

“We don’t get too many customers, especially on this day of the week, so...” Trailing off, she shrugged, turned around, and made her way to the next aisle in search of the location for the next book out of the basket.

“She was working in a bookstore I decided to hide in to get away from some fans. Turns out, she was a fan. But she never actually asked for anything from me and didn’t bug me. Eventually we struck up a conversation in which I asked for her number. The rest is history.” There was a large smile on his face as he looked over at you again, your conversation with Harrison still on pause as you smiled adoringly at your boyfriend.

“How were you able to hide it for so long? It seems like something pretty hard to hide from the paparazzi.” The interviewer questioned, leaning back in his seat.

“Just because it’s hard doesn’t make it impossible.” Ben chimed in, setting his own bottle of water down at the foot of his chair.

“Just look at Kylie Jenner.” You whispered to Harrison, who snorted in response.

“A lot of disguises, a lot of secret rendezvous, and a very tight circle of people who knew about us.” Tom answered, fiddling with the hem of his jacket sleeve. You wanted nothing more than to curl into him, he was such a cuddly person, it was hard to restrain the urge to hold him and cuddle with him and just love him every second of the day.

“Have you gotten to know each other fairly well, yet?” At this, Tom laughs. His eyes squint ever so slightly, and his lips break open into a large smile as his laughter twists around your already exploding heart.

“You see, I thought we did. Genuinely. I thought, save for a few things because you can never know everything about anyone but yourself, I thought I knew her very well. But I had her phone the other day, and we were messing with her Snapchat. Just sending videos to her friends being silly and what not.” Your head is buried in your hands now, it’s like watching a horror movie.

You know exactly what story he is telling and the only thing you can do is stand behind camera and cover your face while you peek through your fingers, giving Tom a death glare.

“When she gets a notification from tumblr. Now, I know she has a tumblr. I met her in a bookstore while she was wearing a Spider-Man: Homecoming shirt from Hot Topic. She’s definitely got a tumblr.” Ben is smiling, his eyes crinkled as Tom continues with the story, very excitedly.

The interviewer is just as interested, in fact, the whole room is interested and a few people are even giving you side glances just to better imagine the story. It probably doesn’t help that you’re wearing a gray and red Spider-Man: Homecoming shirt now. You grab Harrison’s shoulders and shove him in front of you as a barrier.

“I click on it, much to her displeasure, and it takes me to a side profile that I didn’t know about. A profile that would not have really been a big deal if not for the fact that it was a blog she wrote fanfiction on. She hadn’t posted in quite some time but as I was looking at it, I realized that a decent amount of the writing was about me!” The interviewer and Ben bust into laughter and everyone behind screen is trying very hard to keep it quiet. Even Harrison’s shoulders shake beneath your hands.

You pinch him.

“Suffice to say, I read it all. Not only did I learn that my girlfriend is a very good writer, but I also learned a few tricks as well.” Tom smiles in triumph and you die a little inside. The interview continues, straying from you and back to Infinity War, which you keep having to glare at Tom about when he opens his mouth.

He can’t keep a secret to save his life. You love him anyways.

[darkmystress00]

Babysitter’s Club - Ch 10

A/N:  Thank you everyone for all the love for this story! I have been sitting on the first 10 chapters for so long and I was so nervous to post any of it, but all the love has helped me fall back in love with it and continue on this fun journey! I really hope you enjoy this next installment!

Trigger warnings: Jealous!Misha (is that in need of a warning?) and vaguely creepy salesman.

Pairing: Misha x Reader (EVENTUALLY)

Catch up here!

“Oh! Daddy! I want this one!” West cried as he bounced on a bed in the store.

“West,” you chided gently, scooping him up into your arms, “we can’t bounce on the furniture. These ones don’t belong to us.”

“Yeah, West.” Maison chimed in from Misha’s arms causing him to chuckle lightly.

“C’mon West. I found a neat bunk bed for you and your sister. Come take a look.” Misha called as he walked towards a bunk bed off in the corner of the massive furniture store. You followed smiling.

“Oh, West. I like that one. Look-” you motioned to the interesting bed set. “It’s got the top bunk, and then the bottom bunk comes out and has a little desk built into the side. You could do all your coloring there.” West’s eyes lit up as he looked at the little desk built into the L-shaped bed-frame. Misha smiled at you when West ‘oohed’ and ‘aahed’ over the desk and bed set. It seemed the kid was never happy with anything unless you approved it, or suggested it.

“You know, he’d have hated it if I’d been the only one suggesting it.” Misha mumbled next to you and you grinned at him.

“What can I say? The kid loves me.” You teased.

“He’s not the only one…” You froze, your heart thudding quickly in your chest at the meaning behind those words. Your eyes moved slowly to stare at him. Misha’s easy smile fell slightly as he watched your face morphed into one of trepidation. Suddenly, the hidden meaning of his words clicked and he coughed. “I meant Maison.” He blurted out. “I play second fiddle to you with both these kids.” You let out a pent up breath, sighing in relief. You smiled and nodded.

“Yeah, it’s like I spend every waking second with them, feeding them, clothing them, taking care of them, or something.” You laughed as West bounced his way over to you, grabbing your leg. “They’ve got great taste. What can I say?”

“That, or they’re a horrible judge of character.” Misha teased back easily and you rolled your eyes.

“Well, that would explain why they still like you…” Misha glared at you playfully. “What?” You shrugged, “Don’t blame the messenger.” A young man joined your little group, a wide smile on his face.

“Hello, my name is Brandon. Is there anything I can help you with?” He grinned at the two of you.

“Yes, we were interested in buying some beds, and a couch.” Misha said with a polite smile.

“And a dining table and chairs.” You piped up, surprising both men. “It’s a lot easier to feed the kids from a table.” You answered Misha’s questioning stare. “Nothing too extravagant.” You felt your cheeks redden in embarrassment. You weren’t trying to overstep your boundaries, but meals would be a lot easier than trying to set up picnics on the floor, and who knew when Misha would have another spare moment to pick something out that he liked.

“Good point.” He agreed and turned back to the salesman. “Some beds, a couch and a dining set.” He amended. “We just moved into a new place and we’re working on filling it with crap.”

“Dad…” West groaned and you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing at the exasperated look he pinned Misha with.

“Sorry, West. I forgot.” Misha was notorious for having a potty mouth, but he was doing his best to watch his language around the kids. He was usually really good about it, but did have a few slip ups every once in awhile. West was very quick to remind him though.

“Well, have no fear Mr.-” The salesman paused, waiting for Misha to give him his name.

“Collins.”

“Well, have no fear Mr. Collins. I’m sure we’ll be able to find the beds and couches you want and the dining room set your wife here will love.” He shmoozed, casting a smooth smile in your direction.

“Oh I’m not…We’re not…” You stuttered, trying to explain your relationship to Misha. The salesman quirked an eyebrow at you, his smile growing a bit more as it became clear you two weren’t married. You looked to Misha for help. When you saw him trying desperately not to laugh you knew he wasn’t going to help correct the situation.  “I’m the nanny.” You finally sputtered out. Brandon just nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving you.

“Well, either way, I’m sure there will be something in this store that will catch your eye.” You blinked, your insides freezing. The look Brandon gave you and the tone of voice he used gave you pause. Was he flirting with you? “Why don’t we start over there with the tables?” He suggested, barely casting a glance to Misha.

“Uhm...well, we’re already here at the beds.” You squeaked, trying to pull Misha into the conversation. Get the attention off of you. “What do you think, Mish? You liked this one for the kids right?” Brandon turned to look to Misha who nodded.

“Yeah. This one would be great for the kids.” Misha said and you couldn’t help but notice the agitation in his voice. You gently took Maison from him, and took West’s hand, whispering that you were going to take the kids to the dining room sets while he talked numbers with Mr. Brandon. He gave you a soft smile before a small, almost imperceptible nod to show he heard you and agreed. With a breath of relief you walked away with the kids.

Misha couldn’t help but narrow his eyes at Brandon. He’d never seen someone turn so predatory in the blink of an eye. The moment Brandon had found out that you and Misha weren’t married (or connected in anyway that wasn’t professional), it was like a switch had been flipped, and frankly Misha couldn’t place the feeling that welled up inside him. He was somewhere between being smug that he could claim a little piece of you for his own (even if it was just a professional or friendly piece) and wanting to punch the man in the face. He watched as Brandon’s eyes followed you across the store to the tables. “So,” Misha called, trying to garner Brandon’s attention away from you. “As I was saying, I want one of these for the kids room, and I was looking at this one.” He moved towards a simple bed and dresser set that he had his eye on. Brandon followed behind, writing down small notes here and there.

“And for your uhm…” Brandon paused, “your nanny?” Misha bit his cheek, resisting the urge to insist that you didn’t need a bed of your own since you’d be sharing his, but he couldn’t make himself utter the bald-face lie just to put the little shit in his place.  

“She wants just a plain frame.” You supplied from behind them. “I don’t need anything extravagant. Just a plain bed will be fine.” Misha and Brandon jerked and looked at you. Misha quirked an eyebrow. “Sorry, Maison said she needed to use the restroom, so I had to come back and ask where it was.” Your eyes floated over to Brandon, a polite smile gracing your lips.

“It’s over in the corner.” Brandon grinned at you. “I would be happy to show you, if you’d like?”

“No, it’s alright. I think I can find it myself.” Your polite smile turned strained, but never left your face. “Misha, can I leave West with you? I’m sure he’s not going to want to go into the ladies room.”

“Of course, Y/N.” He watched as you turned, Maison in your arms, and made your way back across the room. He started when he heard Brandon let out a small whistle beside him and turned incredulous eyes to the man. He was at work, supposed to be a professional. Not ogling the customers. Misha grimaced, this was not going to be an easy shopping trip. “So, we’ve picked out the beds, let’s move on to couches.”

~~~

You sighed, bouncing Maison on your hip gently. She was fussy and you’d been at this whole shopping thing for a lot longer than anyone in your little group would have liked. Finally, Misha was filling out all the paperwork for his order so the furniture would be delivered and set up in the apartment that way neither one of you needed to worry about it. All you had to do was let the movers in and then get out of their way.

“All set?” Misha asked as he walked towards you and Maison and West.

“Yes. Please.” Your smile faltered when Brandon popped up behind Misha. Your eyes jumped to Misha in a question but even he seemed confused.

“Hey,” Brandon started, eyes on you, “would you want to get some coffee sometime?” Your eyes widened and jumped from Brandon to Misha’s startled face. You didn’t want to. Something about this man made your insides twist and grow cold.

“Uhm. I can’t.” Your eyes landed on Misha. “I’m working.” Brandon’s face fell a little.

“Well, you’re not working all the time.” He reasoned.

“When I’m in Vancouver, yes, yes I am.”

“But-” he started but Misha cut him off, gently reaching and ushering you towards the door.

“You heard her, she’s working.” He rumbled out before he followed you out of the store leaving an irritated Brandon in his wake.

You were mumbling to yourself indignantly as you buckled Maison and West into their seats. That was so uncomfortable. You heard Misha crawl into the front seat of the car and noticed he wasn’t his happy self either. You finished buckling in West before getting into the passenger seat next to Misha. “I’m sorry.” You blurted out. “I didn’t mean for him to be so…” you trailed off not sure what all to say. “I tried to shut it down but.” You sighed, looking at him. “It wont happen again.” He pinned you with a confused stare.

“Are you actually apologizing for getting asked out?” You nodded. “You are absolutely ridiculous.” He smiled at you. “Don’t worry about it.”

“But-”

“Look, Y/N, you’re a young beautiful woman, you’re going to get asked out. Don’t apologize for that.” You felt your cheeks heat up. “Apologize when you accept.” He teased, causing you to burst into laughter. “You hungry?” You nodded, smiling through your laughter. “Perfect, how about you munchkins?” The kids let out a loud squeal of excitement at the prospect of food. “Then let’s get some food.”

~~~

You resisted the urge to sigh as Maison fidgeted in your arms on her new “big girl bed.” It had only taken a few days to get the furniture ordered and delivered, and ever since Maison had been so excited to show you how big she was by sleeping in her big girl bed. You felt Maison turn and settle in your arms again as you turned the page of her favorite book. She was fighting going to sleep even though she was way past the point of exhaustion. Usually she would crawl up onto the bed and was out like a light before you even finished the first page, but tonight it seemed something was bothering her. “What’s the matter Maison?” You asked as she rolled over in your arms to face you. She looked up at your face, her big beautiful eyes almost nervous.

“Gotta tell you something.” She squeaked out. You tilted your head in question and watched as she fidgeted with the bottom of a lock of your hair. “Love you.” You froze for a second before a big smile bloomed on your lips.

“I love you too, Maison. To the moon and back.” She looked up at you.

“What’s that mean?”

“Well, when I was little, my daddy told me that it takes the same amount of power to get a rocket ship to the moon and back as your heart beats in your chest for your whole life. So saying you love someone to the moon and back means that you love them with your whole heart, for your whole life.” Maison’s eyes grew wide.

“Really? Your whole life?” You nodded.  

“Mmhmm. Your whole life.” She looked down at your hair, which she was twirling around her fingers still.

“Y/N...to the moon and  back.” She grinned at you. You nuzzled her forehead gently with your cheek.

“To the moon and back.”

~~~

Maison let out a peal of laughter as you pushed her on the swing. “Y/N, wanna go down the slide!” You let out a giggle of your own as you stopped the swing and set her gently on the ground. She looked up at you a bright smile on her face. “To the moon and back!” She called before she scampered off towards the play equipment.

“Y/N…” West called from the swing next to you. “What’s that mean? To the moon and back?”

“Oh!” You smiled down at him. “It’s the way my daddy taught me to say I love you with my whole heart forever and ever.” you answered matter-of-factly. He seemed to ponder for a minute before nodding his head and getting off the swing to follow his sister.

“Y/N, can I say it too?” He asked as he was halfway across the play area.

“Of course, Westy. But only if you mean it.” You playfully warned. “To the moon and back is completely serious.” He grinned at you and nodded again.

“To the moon and back, Y/N!” He cried before taking off to the play structure. You smiled and followed.

“To the moon and back, Westy.” You said as you moved to catch Maison as she came down the slide.

~~~

Misha stood in the doorway and watched as you tucked in Maison, placing a gentle kiss to her head. “To the moon and back.” She called sleepily. You stroked her hair.

“To the moon and back, Maison.” Misha quirked his head, confused by the exchange. He’d heard his kids randomly telling each other that saying for a good couple of weeks now, but he’d thought it was something they’d come up with together.

“To the moon and back, Y/N.” West mumbled, half asleep as you moved to tuck him in as well.

“To the moon and back, sweetheart.” You replied. You smiled fondly down at the little boy as he rolled onto his side and snuggled into his pillow. You stood and turned to Misha grinning at his confused expression. Quietly you ushered him out of the room, closing the door before he could make sound and wake up the sleeping kids. He followed you into the living room, watching as you stooped to pick up the toys that littered the floor.

“What’s that mean?” He asked, trying to catch your eye as you cleaned. You just shrugged at him with a grin.

“That’s for me to know and you to never find out.” He let out a laugh.

“What are we twelve?” You responded by sticking your tongue out at him. “You know I’m going to figure it out eventually right? You should just tell me.” You just grinned at him.

“Not gonna happen.” He mock glared at you as he stood in the hallway. You patted his shoulder sympathetically as you walked past him towards your room. “Nice try though.” You paused in the doorway to your room and turned to face him. “You know you could always ask the kids.” You suggested.

“I’d rather hear it from you.” He supplied. Your eyes darted to his, surprised at the low husky quality you heard. It was doing funny things to your insides and made your heart beat a touch faster. He looked amazing in the low light shining down the hall from the living room. The way he was braced against the door jamb looking so relaxed, and comfortable, like he’d come into your room a million times; like he belonged with you in your room. You smiled playfully at him to try to change the mood.

“Well, maybe I don’t want to tell you.” You teased, trying to play off the awkwardness singing through your veins. Misha was attractive, there was no way to deny that,  but you’d fought long and hard to keep those thoughts to yourself. Seeing his posture and the look on his face had you imagining all sorts of naughty things you’d, up until this point, kept buried down deep inside of you. He took a casual step towards you, hands sliding into his pockets.

“And why would that be?” That was when you faltered. You fidgeted nervously. You felt your heart hammering away in your chest and wondered if your cheeks were stained red. You knew Misha would never do anything to hurt you or that you didn’t want him to, but that was the issue...you did want him to. If you admitted it to yourself, you wanted him to wrap his arms around you and kiss you. You wanted to feel him pressed up against you while you slowly peeled away layer after layer of clothing separating you. That was what made you feel awkward. You wanted him.

Misha paused as he watched you fidget. He’d never really seen you fidget around like this before. The only time he could think of that came close was that first time you’d ever traveled with him and the kids before and those girls had tried to take your picture. You’d been so nervous and uncomfortable. But what did you have to be nervous or uncomfortable about now? He took stock of the situation and blanched. He had followed you into your space, your personal space, your bedroom. While he was pretty sure you knew he’d never do anything to you, this was you he was thinking about; the person who didn’t even want to be seen sleeping for the first few months you’d been working for him. Of course you would be weird about having him in your room, so close to personal items. Her bed...Misha’s mind supplied and his eyes darted to the bed just behind you. He caught sight of the tank top and shorts you normally slept in and an image of you in them sprang to mind unbidden. The air in his lungs froze and he took a tentative step back. “Fine.” he almost choked out, trying for an easy smile. “I’ll stop bothering you about it tonight...but don’t think this is over.” You grinned at him and he moved another step away from you, out of the room. “Goodnight Y/N.” He reached out and pulled the door closed behind him, pausing slightly when you almost whispered a good night to him in return.

Your door closed with a quiet click and you let out a whoosh of breath as you moved to your bed and flopped down on the edge. You sat there in the dark just staring at your closed door. You wanted Misha. You’d finally admitted it. You wanted him. But you’d let hell freeze over before you let anything compromise your job and your relationship with those kids. They’d had enough of their world go topsy turvy. You wouldn’t disappear on them for no reason. You could be a professional, even if you were attracted to their dad...your employer.

~~~

Misha clicked off the light in the living room, his mind reeling. He would be lying if he tried to deny that he’d always thought you were gorgeous. But the image of you in your sleep clothes had done something to him he hadn’t anticipated. His heart had gone into double time, mouth had gone dry, and he’d wanted it. He’d wanted to see you in your sleep clothes, rumpled and warm from sleep. But the thing that shook him the most, he wanted to see those clothes wrinkled and laying in a heap on the floor of his room. That was new.

As he moved past your room he licked his lips. Judging by the nervous jittery movements you’d displayed you didn’t feel the same (why would you?) and he was determined to put it past him. He would never do anything to make you uncomfortable...no matter what.

Taglist:

@imamotherfuckingstar-lord @big-to-beautiful @greenappleeyesdean @lilo-efuru @shikaros-blog @fireismysaftey @iconicxcasifer @cannonindeez @tsunderecamour @fluffycascat @rhishklish

If you would like to be added to my taglist please send me an ask (otherwise I might lose the request/forget.) Thank you!!

[zoraiya]

Chapter One

[Links: Wattpad, Inkitt, Penana]

I want to preface this by warning every reader that this story will get heavy handed. There will be themes of torture, assault, and more. I will ALWAYS put a trigger warning at the top of the chapter that will have such scenes. I will also put a warning at the bottom of the previous chapter so readers can be better prepared for the next installment. 

This story has been with me for as long as I can remember. I firmly believe in reality shifting and that is the main theme of this book. I've always been fascinated by souls and where they come from. I don't remember a lot of my childhood because I was constantly "travelling" to different worlds and meeting these amazing people. Even in the present, not a day goes by that my mind doesn't wander off and I'm suddenly seeing the birth and life of an amazing person, or that I visit a world that I never thought I could imagine.

Initially I wasn't going to post/publish this story because of extremely personal reasons. However, I think it's finally time I share it. These people have never stfu, and now more than ever, they're urging me to write and tell the world about them. I don't think I'm some fantastical writer that deserves awards, so I don't expect this story to go far lol more than anything I just want to finally get it off my chest and feel accomplished. I need to finish this, more so to prove to myself that I can.

So, for those that have read this far, I truly hope you enjoy this series. Every day I see something new and just want to share it with anyone who will listen. I will be uploading maps and character designs later on. I'm also totally going to abuse the media feature and share every song that inspired said scene/chapter lol anyways, here is a phonetic pronunciation of some of the weirder names of my characters and their worlds in the story. More will be added as the story progresses!

Names:

Arkadiy / Ark-uh-dye

Arkiros / Ark-ee-Rose

Aváltastír / Uh-Vawl-Tuh-Steer

Egres Leisiem/ Ee-Grus  Lie-See-Um

Paelion / Pay-Lee-On

Xejion / Zeh-Jee-On

Vauslin / Vaw-zlin

Zeig / Zeeg

Zoraiya / Zor-Eye-Uh

Worlds:

Auriniya / Aww-rin-ee-uh

Neoridia / Nee-oh-rid-ee-uh

Realm 3, Milky Way

Earth, United States

October 21st, 2008

Lockers slammed shut as the students of Casper High School were milling about, ready to go home from a long day of studies. Homecoming week had everyone gushing about the upcoming theme days and dance. The halls were decorated with masks and gold and silver streamers, flyers plastered on every door and window to remind the students of the masquerade theme. Teachers tried to guide the students out of the building in a timely manner, rushing those that were only just reaching their own locker.

"You've got 4 minutes until the buses leave!" Shouted a male teacher. "Come on now Ms. Hayne, you've just been standing there. Get a move on."

"I'm waiting for my friend; we're supposed to go home together." The girl replied. With a nod the teacher turned to a couple to admonish them for public display of affection.

Rolling her eyes, the girl began to tap her foot impatiently. "Come on Egg Head, why're you always late?" She muttered in annoyance.

"Zoraiya!"

Turning at the familiar voice, Zoraiya Hayne broke into a grin as she saw her best friend's bright blue mohawk rushing through the crowd. He shoved past a group of jocks, his porcelain face flush from exertion. He had a delicate pixie-like face, most people mistaking him for a tomboyish girl before he opened his mouth.

"I'm sorry, I was finishing up my project for Photoshop." He explained breathlessly. "I was working on Zeig's coronation, I'm so excited I've been wanting to make this for a while!"

"It's ok," replied Zoraiya. "I thought you forgot about tonight."

"No way I could! Been wanting you to spend the night forever, I've got so much to ask you."

Egres suddenly paused to look at Zoraiya as if just noticing her. "Why are you wearing that?" He asked, pointing to her red bandana.

Zoraiya was confused at his question. "Um...to keep my hair back?"

"Oh, never mind." Egres shook his head. "You reminded me of someone I used to talk to. We aren't friends anymore."

As he made his way through the crowd, Zoraiya awkwardly slid her bandanna off and let her long black hair fall. She tucked the piece of cloth in her back pocket as she followed him, climbing into the back of a black SUV with her friend.

"Hi Mrs. Leisiem! Thank you again for having me over tonight." Zoraiya greeted the middle-aged woman in the driver's seat.

She had a round and kind face. A pair of of librarians glasses perched on a slightly crooked nose. "It's ok, Raye. He should have friends on his birthday." The woman responded with a thick accent, her airy voice making Zoraiya feel welcomed.

Egres stuffed his backpack between his feet and began rummaging through his folders as he told his mother about his day. Zoraiya couldn't help but smile as she listened to the two speak to each other. She envied their relationship, her own mother too busy to spend any time with her let alone her siblings. Usually, Zoraiya was responsible for taking care of her younger sisters as soon as she got home from school. If anything, it was still a shock to her that her mother even agreed to let her spend a night with her friend, let alone the week. She was still ruminating over her home life when Egres shoved a picture in front of her face.

"Lookit!" He demanded excitedly, his cerulean eyes wide with excitement. "I told ya I finished it. I think I might actually want to add more details to his robe, but this is what he looks like!"

Zoraiya grabbed the picture and studied it carefully. Although Egres was just turning 17, his skills as an artist were on par with any professional. The main character of his story stared right up at her with a cherubic smile. His flaming orange hair reached his waist, his cheeks pink with happiness. He wore a flowing white robe, a scarlet tippet draped over his shoulders embroidered with golden symbols. The character sat on a throne as he held a coronation scepter in one hand, a ball of blue fire in the other. The piece was so well done Zoraiya could've mistaken it for an actual photo.

"This is really good. But I'm curious," she said as she handed the art back to Egres. "Who's Zeig? I've only heard you talk about him in passing, but you've never really told me about him."

Egres smiled at his best friend. "Tell me about Nathaniel." He countered.

Zoraiya blinked owlishly at him wondering how he knew the name. Egres laughed and pulled out a composition notebook the two had been using to write notes to each other in between classes.

"You mentioned him in this. Do you even remember what you wrote?"

With a shake of her head, Zoraiya reached for the notebook. Mostly filled with random rants and doodles, the notebook also had short stories the two had been writing in their pastime. Egres opened the notebook to the page he was referring to and handed it over, talking excitedly as Zoraiya tried to read her own scribbles.

"I've seen Zeig since I was a kid. He's my main character." Explained Egres. "I've got this whole story mapped out; I know their language, their history, and even how the planet was made. I've got more characters but he's currently my favorite which is funny because when I first saw him, I hated him. I don't even know why, I just really hated him.

"He's the leader of a future earth. He isn't human at all he just uses a humanoid form so it doesn't scare people. Also, he's a major goofball despite his past. He may be the leader of the future Earth, but all he wants is to live life and experience joy. He's only got his brother and nephews for family right now. He used to be married and have kids. But he became infected by a disease that only his species can get and...did bad stuff to them. Imagine rabies on steroids, except you're fully aware of what's happening and no matter how hard you try there's nothing you can do to stop it. Until a scientist created the cure way after Zeig waged war on his own people.

"The story is still coming to me in bits and pieces. But that's what I've got so far!" With an excited flush on his face, Egres stared at Zoraiya expectantly. "So...."

Zoraiya looked up from the notebook and shrugged. "Sounds like the makings of a pretty epic story. Why do you want to know about mine? It's really basic compared to yours." She admitted.

"I don't care." Egres said with a smile. "What you wrote sounds interesting too. What's Nathaniel like? Who is he? Where'd he come from?"

Zoraiya couldn't help but laugh at Egres's exuberance. "I swear, there isn't much to him. Like I said in the notebook, I dreamt about him. That's it. I didn't even remember that I wrote to you about him."

Still, Egres stared at her expectantly, rolling his hands in front of him motioning Zoraiya to keep on going. With a defeated sigh Zoraiya turned in her seat slightly to face him.

"I'm serious. My story is just about a lonely vampire that lost his soulmate and how he's been spending lifetimes trying to find her." Said Zoraiya.

"Lifetimes? How old is the guy?"

Zoraiya shrugged again. "I'm not sure. But he is the ruler of his own land. All the citizens are essentially refugees that lived an abusive life but were granted the ultimate respite. Honestly, I'm kind of bored by his story. He and the citizens live in a utopia that's impossible to destroy because it's protected by the laws of the realm it's in. Oh, and that his cousin is his worst enemy."

"That's it? Come on," Egres goaded. "I talk to you all the time about my stories. You can give me a little more than that."

Zoraiya stared at him for a beat before she reached into her own bag and pulled out a green spiral bound notebook. "Well, I've got a picture of Nathaniel's cousin somewhere around here. And I wrote a short story about him for our Creative Writing class. Here it is!"

She gave the notebook to Egres, a folded-up piece of paper falling on his lap when he opened it. He balked at the tiny writing on the pages.

"Yeah, I'm not reading all that." He said. "Not that I don't want to. I just personally don't like reading cause I'm slow and this would take me a week."

"It's just 3 pages!" Zoraiya laughed.

"Front and back?! You wrote this for ANTS, not human eyes."

The two laughed at each other as Egres picked up the paper that had fallen out. He unfolded it carefully before suddenly going so still he wasn't even breathing.

"What is it?" Asked Zoraiya.

With a grimace, Egres handed the drawing over to her.

"I don't like him. He looks dumb."

Zoraiya stared at him in shock. "That's pretty harsh considering you just asked me to tell you about my characters..."

"No, oh my god, that's not what I meant." Egres rushed to amend. "The drawing is really good. I just...he feels off."

With a tilt of her head, Zoraiya frowned. "I guess that makes sense. He's a pretty evil dude. The skit I just wrote was of how he had destroyed an entire village sparing no one. All because he was bored...you got that just from the drawing?"

"I don't know. Like I said; just a feeling."

"Okay..."

"Tell me their story. I swear I really want to know."

With a deep breath Zoraiya hesitantly shared her own stories and characters, Egres's eyes growing wide and an excited grin spreading across his face as she shared as much as she dared. The more she spoke, the happier Egres became. Eventually they arrived at his house, Mrs. Leisiem insisting they relax in the finished basement while she cooked Egres's birthday dinner. The friends didn't miss a beat as they continued to share their ideas and different stories.

The two had barely known each other for four months now, but they'd been inseparable since the first day they met their sophomore year of high school. They had never met anyone else like the other. The more they shared, the more they noticed the similarities of their lives. Escaping reality was their pastime, the people and stories they saw the only respite they had from strict parents and outright neglect.

"I love my mom more than anything." Said Egres as he handed Zoraiya a can of soda. He opened the basement door that led to his backyard, motioning for Zoraiya to follow him. "But my dad...he just doesn't care. Like, at all. I can't remember the last time we went out as a family and my dad didn't ruin it with his attitude. So, I try to take my mom out every chance I get. Lately she's been really tired and it's been freaking me out."

"Has she gone to the doctors?"

"No, she refuses. She said it's just because she's working too much, but she won't cut back on the hours either."

"Does your dad not work?"

"Not anymore." Sighed Egres. "He decided he wanted to become a priest about a week ago. My mom thinks it's a good idea and that he's all 'noble and good' for doing it. But I see it for what it is."

Zoraiya took a sip of her soda as she studied Egres's profile. He was starting to zone out, his eyes focused on the creek they had been walking alongside of.

"He's avoiding me." He softly said as he kicked at a clump of sand. "He called me a demon fag last night. Said that I'm too interested in the occult and stuff like that. We got into a really bad fight and he said a lot of awful shit to me."

The temperature was beginning to drop as the sun began to set. Zoraiya couldn't stop staring at her friend, her heart breaking as she noticed him bite his lower lip to keep it from trembling. She knew how he felt, her own mother never missing a chance to remind her that she was meant to be aborted. She kept silent though, knowing that Egres needed his moment to vent and feel his well-deserved anger.

"I don't know, man. I just really wish it was just me and my mom. I've even asked her to get a divorce."

"You did what?!"

Egres nodded. "You don't understand. My dad drains her dry. My mom does everything she can to make all of us happy, except for herself. That's why tomorrow she's going to hang with us. I got us an appointment to a hair salon, I want to treat my mom to at least a trim. She thinks the appointment is for me to change my color but it's really for her."

"Seraaaaa!"

Instantly Egres cringed and crushed his empty soda can in his hand. "Oh god, I hate when she calls me that."

Zoraiya couldn't help but laugh at the face he made. "What does it mean?"

Egres smirked as he began to lead them back to his house. "It's a term of endearment that means royalty. I never felt it fit me, though."

They were halfway up the hill when they suddenly heard the bellows of a very angry man that stopped them in their tracks. Zoraiya couldn't understand what the man was yelling, the words in a different language. They could hear dishes shattering and doors slamming. Very faintly they heard Mrs. Leisiem say something inaudible that only seemed to anger the man more. He was so loud that the neighbor's dogs began to bark wildly in response. Zoraiya glanced at her friend, his pretty features pinched, his eyes searing with anger as he swallowed thickly.

Slowly she reached out to grab Egres's hand, his instantly closing around hers as he stared at his house forlornly.

"Do you think they could be real?" He whispered.

Zoraiya's brow furrowed at the question. "Who do you mean?"

Egres turned to face her, his eyes wet with tears he refused to let fall. "Zeig and Nathaniel. What if they were real? What if they existed but in a parallel universe?"

Zoraiya looked down at their hands. There was only one answer to that.

"Every shooting star I see, every eyelash that falls; with every birthday candle I get...There's not a day I don't wish they were real." She admitted.

The shouting continued and they remained outside for a moment longer as Egres tried to compose himself. Zoraiya took a deep breath and gently shook Egres's arm. "Come on. Your mom made some bomb food. I'm not going to let your dad ruin it."

The two held hands as they made their way up the rest of the hill, only letting go when they reached the door.

Although the tension could be cut with a knife, Zoraiya switched off her personal feelings and put on a neutral front. Egres paused at the foot of the stairs, his face uncertain as his father continued to yell obscenities. Zoraiya smiled at him with encouragement, moving up the stairs as she loudly started complimenting Mrs. Leisiem's cooking.

"GAWD that smells SO good ma'am! What'd you make? I'd like a bit of everything!"

The screaming stopped as quickly as it began, Mr. Leisiem marching into his room without so much as a glance at her and slamming the door shut. She reached out to rub Mrs. Leisiem's back, the woman trying desperately to hide her ire as Egres came up the steps.

"You don't have to serve us, ma'am. Let us do it. Go sit down, we've got this." Zoraiya gently offered. Egres shot her a thankful look as he poured a glass of water for his mom before leading her into the dining room that she so lovingly prepared for him.

As Zoraiya began to serve the three of them, Mr. Leisiem suddenly came out of his room and into the kitchen. She turned just as he paused to glare down at her. With a mischievous grin, she held his gaze unflinchingly.

"Ya want some?" She offered cheekily.

The man was as round as he was tall. His features were naturally fierce, his lips set in a grim line. It looked like he had never cracked a smile a day in his life. Any other time he would've intimidated Zoraiya. But today wasn't his day, and she was going to make damn sure he didn't ruin anymore of it.

"Are you Zoraiya?" The man asked, his voice deceptively calm. "Sera told me about you."

"Mmhmm," Zoraiya walked out of the kitchen to place a full platter in front of Egres and his mother. Egres was staring at her with wide eyes, his expression clearly asking her what the hell she was doing. She ignored the look and returned to the kitchen to face Mr. Leisiem. "Would you like any food, sir?"

The man glared at her before he shook his head, turning to the fridge to grab a cold bottle of tea.

"Great, it was nice meeting you too!" Zoraiya called to him as he lumbered back into his room and slammed the door shut for the second time. She silently made herself a plate and returned to the dining room, Egres staring at her as if she'd grown a second head.

Taking a heaping bite of her food Zoraiya groaned in ecstasy. "Oh. My. God. Mrs. Leisiem, I'm obsessed with your cooking. This is great!"

Egres took the que and shot her a thankful smile. "Thanks for dinner, mom. I appreciate it."

Mrs. Leisiem smiled shakily and tried to change the subject, asking the two how their day at school went. After a few minutes the tension was forgotten and Egres soon had his mother laughing as he told her about an incident that happened that day in the cafeteria where Zoraiya had laughed so hard she spit milk straight into their classmates' ear. Not once did Mr. Leisiem make a return appearance.

Once they finished their meal, Egres and Zoraiya ushered Mrs. Leisiem out into the living room to have her relax while they cleaned up the kitchen. "Just chill, mom. You've been up since 5am. I can clean the kitchen just fine.

"It's your birthday, sera. Just leave it there I'll take care of it when I wake up." Insisted Mrs. Leisiem.

"Do you have any left-over ginger root?" Zoraiya asked Mrs. Leisiem.

"Yes, in the refrigerator. Why?"

"Stay there, I'm going to make some tea really quick."

Egres stayed with his mother to tuck a blanket around her as she surfed through the tv until she found a show she could fall asleep to. Within ten minutes Zoraiya returned with a steaming mug of ginger tea with some milk. "It's supposed to help with relaxing your muscles. There's extra in the pot if you want to try some." She said to him as she handed him the mug.

Egres took a quick sip out of curiosity, his eyes popping open in surprise at the taste. "This is really good. Here, take it."

Mrs. Leisiem briefly fought the offer until Egres firmly clamped her hands around the mug. "Please, mom. Just drink a little bit." He pleaded.

Mrs. Leisiem glanced at Zoraiya and tried to smile; her exhaustion palpable. "Thank you. You two should go. Don't let me ruin tonight."

"You're not the one ruining tonight." Egres gently patted his mother's hands as he looked towards Zoraiya. "You can go ahead and use my computer if you want. I'll be right behind you."

Zoraiya nodded and pulled away to go back to the basement. She could hear Egres muttering to his mom to try and get her to lay down.

It was a full moon that night, its light illuminating the basement. Zoraiya walked down the stairs towards the windows facing the backyard. As she gazed up at the moon, she couldn't help but whisper the same wish she dreamt of since she first saw Nathaniel.

"I wish you were real..."

After he made sure his parents were both asleep, Egres finally returned to the basement. "I'm really sorry about all that. I thought my dad was on a mission for church. Guess my mom had the dates mixed up."

Zoraiya looked up from her writing, her eyes slightly unfocused from staring at the computer screen for the last hour. "It's ok. I was just adding a new scene I just saw while listening to your music. You've got a pretty impressive collection!"

Egres laughed a little as he pulled a giant bean bag up next to Zoraiya's chair. He threw himself on it belly side up, his mohawk flopping to the side. "If our people are real, now's a good time to show themselves." He muttered.

Saving her work, Zoraiya faced Egres. She left some music playing in the background knowing how much he hated silence.

"What would you do if they were?" She asked.

"Ask them to take me back home." He replied without hesitation. He sat up a bit and blew his hair out of his eyes. "I've been wanting to tell you something for a while now." He said hesitantly, his expression wary as he gauged Zoraiya's expression. 

She motioned for him to continue, her attention solely on him. Egres remained silent for a moment as he bit his lower lip, his dark blue eyes softening as he sighed.

"I actually believe Zeig and Nathaniel are real." His eyes widened as he immediately regretted his confession. The color drained from his face. His pixie features made him look like a lost child as he slowly sunk back into his beanbag chair his eyes never straying from hers.

Zoraiya's face remained neutral, the only movement she made from her breathing. After a few moments she started to pick at her nails as she took in a deep breath, unable to meet his gaze. "Sometimes I can see Nathaniel waiting for me outside of school." She quietly confessed.

Immediately Egres relaxed, shakily letting out the breath he had been holding in. "Oh, thank god you don't think I'm crazy." He rushed. "It's what my ex-friend, Kai, said. I told him I believed Zeig might be real and he just dogged on me and kept saying I needed to be institutionalized."

"I mean, we should still keep a healthy mindset about this." Zoraiya interjected. "Trust me, I have these extremely vivid dreams of Nathaniel showing up at my door, or waiting for me outside of school. They're so vivid I genuinely forget at times what's memory and what's just a part of my imagination."

"But...?"

Zoraiya sighed, shaking her head more to herself than at Egres. "There's no real evidence...Just these 'visions' I get of them." She used her fingers to sign air quotes. "We need to be careful. That's all I can say." She finished lamely.

Egres let out a relieved sigh. "I get what you mean...I don't want to feed into a delusion and end up finding out I'm deranged." He ran a delicate hand through his hair as he took in a couple of deep breaths. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to tell you that, though. Ever since you and I met, the visions have only gotten more intense. I've seen you and I in this huge cafeteria with a bunch of other kids and Zeig is there, along with a few other of my people."

"Does the cafeteria have floor to ceiling windows? And on the northern side it's always snowing, while the southern side it's always like a perfect summer?"

The stunned silence that followed made Zoraiya squirm. She wasn't sure why she had blurted it out. She couldn't remember how or when she had seen such a place, but speaking to Egres caused a very vivid image to appear in her mind's eye.

"Tell me what you see." He demanded.

"Well..."

Zoraiya explained how she usually saw her and Egres still attending school, but instead of the usual classes they were learning more about space and aeronautics. She distinctly recalled a dream she had where they were learning about galaxies and the result of them colliding.

"Are you talking about the Andromeda and the Milky Way?" Egres interrupted.

"Yes! The guy teaching it is a man named— "

"Asmar?"

The two stared at each other in shock, the only sound the music Zoraiya had left playing.

"There's no way this is just coincidence." Egres declared as he pulled himself off the beanbag and started to pace. "This is the first time you and I have hung out outside of school. We only have one class together. We JUST told each other about Zeig and Nathaniel, I mean, I haven't even told you about Arky for fucks sake."

"You mean the guy with black hair that wears bandannas all the time?"

Egres stopped mid-pace, his jaw dropping as he turned to face his best friend.

Zoraiya was staring off into space, her expression whimsical. "He wears a green jacket almost all the time. He's usually a major goofball, but he's got secrets...the type he'd do anything to protect. He looks mean, but that's just his resting face. He loves to a fault, but when you've done something to break that love and trust, there's no getting it back. He will erase you from his memory."

"How the hell do you know about him?" Egres whispered in shock.

The blush that spread across her face made him giddy.

"I, uh...I had a dream that he uh..." Zoraiya tried to clear her throat but Egres let out a guffaw that had her turning redder.

"Tell me you didn't..." He teased.

"We didn't do anything I swear." Zoraiya rushed. "I just had a dream that I woke up to him trying to pick the lock to my bedroom door. I woke up thinking it was just my dog scratching at it, but when it opens, he's there. I don't think he thought I'd be awake either. At least, I think he looked surprised. He just kind of stood there for a moment before he smiled and put a finger to his lips telling me to keep quiet. He walked in my room, then quietly closed my door behind him..."

Egres was staring at her raptly, his mouth hanging open and his eyes glittering with excitement. "Then what? What did he do?" He asked.

"I..." Zoraiya suddenly frowned and looked up at him. "I can't remember after that. I think he tried to tell me something, but I really can't say what."

Egres raked his hands through his hair for the umpteenth time, his excitement palpable. "This is insane. Holy shit. You saw Arky. You definitely saw Arky."

"How do you mean?"

"I've never even drawn him out but you just described him perfectly. Even the part about him picking the lock. Arky taught himself how to pick locks when he was a kid. It's such a random thing to know, yet you saw it. You saw him, Raye."

Zoraiya wanted to deny it but she couldn't think of anything to say. Everything they had talked about sounded psychotic. She half believed they really were experiencing a shared delusion, but that was almost too easy to say. Somehow, she and Egres had the same information about people they both thought they'd made up.

"What do you think this means?" She asked.

"I don't know. But I have a feeling we're going to find out very soon."

While there were still a few hiccups throughout her visit, Zoraiya made sure to not let Mr. Leisiem get to her or her best friend. The rest of the week went by faster than they wanted, but by then they had already created a bond neither had ever experienced before. Every night they sat up for hours on end simply talking about their various stories, characters, and worlds. More often than not they found themselves finishing each other's sentences and descriptions of people and places.

By the time Zoraiya made it back home, they were texting each other every other hour. Not a second went by throughout the weekend that she wasn't texting him. When she woke up for school, the first thing she did was shoot Egres a morning text with a brief description of the dream she had that night. She completed her morning duties with her nose stuck to the phone, only looking up as she buckled herself into the front seat of her mother's car.

"Don't ask me to go anywhere this week, I need you to take care of the girls for me." Said Mary-Bell Hayne as she ushered her youngest daughters into the backseat.

Zoraiya closed her eyes and took a moment to take in a deep breath before she could speak without any venom behind her words. "Did you make plans with Titi Mari?" She gently asked, remembering that her mother and aunt had been calling each other quite a bit the last few weeks.

"No, I just really need to catch up on sleep."

The blasé response had Zoraiya gritting her teeth and staring blankly straight ahead. She waited for her mother to elaborate but she knew better. Every week was the same. Their mother was planning on squandering every cent they owned on lord knows what. Zoraiya couldn't fathom how a single human being could blow through thousands a month and leave barely $40 for her children to figure out how to survive on.

Every month they lived in fear knowing they were one missed payment away from getting their water or electricity shut off. They didn't own cable, let alone a working tv. They lived in a repurposed, roach infested trailer home that barely had a working AC. Zoraiya and her sister's diets mostly consisted of mac and cheese and hotdogs. No one would believe that "sweet, God loving, single mother" Mary-Bell was actually a two-faced selfish bitch that provided the bare minimum to her children.

Zoraiya didn't dare ask where the money went. Last time she did, she had compiled her mothers receipts and wrote down whenever she spent money. The amount was astronomical. So she confronted her mother with the proof. In retaliation, she was forced out in the freezing cold with bloody shins in nothing more than her pajama bottoms and a loose shirt. It was best to just let Mary-Bell think Zoraiya was her loyal little slave. 

She remained quiet as she popped her headphones in and drifted off into space, her mother yelling over her screaming sisters as they fought over an old McDonalds toy.

All she wanted to do was meet up with her best friend and disappear into their own little world they had created. When her mother dropped her off at school, Zoraiya quickly scurried to their locker, Egres waiting for her with their notebook. They still had 20 minutes until homeroom so they grabbed the materials they needed before meandering the halls to kill time.

"Did you see anything new this weekend?" Asked Egres as he handed her the notebook.

"Not really." She replied with a curled lip. "Once I got back home my mom doubled down and had me cleaning the house and babysitting. I swear they did nothing while I was gone. They were just waiting for me to come back to clean up after them. I was so mad. My mom had left half an avocado out for god knows how long, I smooshed it all over the counter and went on a walk to cool down."

Egres barked out a stunned laugh as he imagined Zoraiya's reaction. "Why would you make more of a mess to clean up?"

"Trust me, it made no difference."

The two continued to chatter away until the bell rang. As they made their way towards the homeroom they shared, Egres suddenly stumbled into Zoraiya. She grabbed him before he hit the floor, his face pale and his pupils as small as pinpoints.

"I don't feel so good." He whispered faintly.

"Let's get you to the nurse."

"...yeah, ok."

Zoraiya flagged down their teacher and let her know she was helping him to the nurse's office and would be back. Egres dug into his back pocket and pulled out his phone. He shakily typed out a message to his mom before handing the device over to Zoraiya.

"I literally can't see. If my mom calls, please answer her."

"Of course."

They made their way to the school nurse, Egres only getting worse the closer they got.

"You ate this morning, right?" Asked Zoraiya.

"Yeah, but this isn't like anything I've felt before." He wheezed. "I don't feel like I'm in my body, if that makes any sense."

The phone began to ring just as they reached the nurse, Egres's mom popping up on his screen. Zoraiya answered it, giving Mrs. Leisiem a rundown of what had just occurred. Without hesitation she let the teens know she'd be there within 15 minutes.

She signed Egres in on the nurse's log, repeating everything she told Mrs. Leisiem to the gentle old lady that was helping Egres onto a bed.

"It happened out of nowhere, he already talked to his mom. She said she'd be here soon." Said Zoraiya.

"Well, you've done your part, sweetheart. I'll take it from here."

The nurse rummaged through a closet and pulled out a clean blanket for Egres, tucking it around him as Zoraiya began to back away.

"I'll check in on you after school, yeah?"

Egres weakly waved her off, his eyes closing as she shut the door behind her. She paused to take in a deep breath to settle her racing heart. As much as she hated to admit it, she was completely worried about Egres. If anything, she was pretty sure she was more worried for her friend than she'd ever been for anyone else.

Zoraiya spent the rest of the day with her mind stuck on Egres. She kept checking the clocks, willing the hands to go faster so she could finally check up on him.

The moment the end of day bell rang, she swept all of her belongings in to her bag and turned her phone off silent. By the time she had gotten home she had called her friend 4 times with no response. She even tried messaging him through their socials and got nothing.

On day 2, Zoraiya had half convinced herself her best friend was dead. By day 4, she hopped on a public bus and made her way to his house. There were no cars in the driveway, but that didn't stop Zoraiya from pounding on the door.

Her heart jumped to her throat when the door cracked open, only for it to fall out of her gut when she came face to face with Mr. Leisiem's cranky self.

Zoraiya swallowed thickly as he glowered at her silently.

"Um...Is Egres alright?" She asked. "I haven't heard from him since he got sick."

"He's sleeping." Came the curt response.

Zoraiya studied the man's face as if she could find any trace of him possibly lying. When he just raised a brow at her she took a step back and nodded.

"Fine. I'll...try calling him later." Zoraiya began to walk away until she heard the door shut behind her. She paused for a moment before she ducked behind the bushes of the house and quietly made her way to the backyard. In the house she could clearly hear Egres' father stomping around upstairs.

If Egres really was asleep, the man was doing a piss poor job of trying to keep quiet.

In just a few short steps, Zoraiya was facing the back side of the garage. She began to scale the metal lattice, reaching Egres' bedroom window that was left open. She took a peek inside, her eyes adjusting to the dark before seeing Egres spread out on his bed fast asleep. His hair was matted to his face with sweat, dark circles under his eyes making his features look gaunt.

Zoraiya carefully stepped into the room, her eyes never leaving Egres. She was just happy to see he was still alive.

"Hey," She whispered as she reached the side of his bed. "Hey, Egg-head. It's Raye."

Egres didn't twitch. She grabbed a handful of tissues from the box on his night stand and started to blot the sweat away from his brow. He made a face in his sleep but never opened his eyes. Zoraiya stayed with him a few minutes longer, only moving to reach in to her messenger bag and pull out a bottle of water and some of his favorite snacks. She set them beside the tissue box, leaning a note up against it letting him know to call her as soon as he was able.

Knowing how much he hated the heat, Zoraiya pulled his ionic fan close to his bed and pointed it at him. She set it to his favorite settings before glancing over at him once more. Egres rolled over in his sleep and pulled a pillow close to him before settling back into a deep slumber. 

For now, Zoraiya was content leaving him be until he was ready to reach out to her.

After two weeks of silence, Zoraiya was in the middle of cooking dinner for her siblings when her phone suddenly rang. Seeing who it was, Zoraiya tucked the phone between her cheek and shoulder and breathlessly responded.

"Hey," Egres greeted. "Want to hang out?"

Zoraiya slammed the pot she was holding in the sink as she began to curse out her best friend. "I don't hear from you in damn near a month and the first thing you say is 'wanna hang'; are you serious right now?"

Egres laughed, his voice raspy from disuse. "Um, yes?"

Zoraiya rolled her eyes, unable to bite back a smile. "I can't hang out this week, but I'll ask about next. Are you going to be at school tomorrow?"

"I'm gonna try, but honestly...I don't think I'm really ready." He admitted.

"What did you have? I tried visiting you--."

"Yeah--creepy, by the way. But thank you for the snacks." He chuckled as he crunched on a chip, eliciting a laugh from her.

"I swear I knocked on the front door first, but your dad answered and I don't trust the bastard so I had to see for myself."

"Honestly, I wouldn't have known you swung by if you hadn't left me the note. My dad never said anything when I woke up."

"So," Zoraiya prodded. "What'd you have?"

"I don't know. I have an appointment next week. I feel real out of it. At first it was just extreme exhaustion. But it feels like I'm still dreaming and haven't fully woken up."

Zoraiya served 3 plates full of food and set them on the table, calling for her siblings before returning to Egres.

"I miss you, dummy." She told him. "You really need to take care of yourself."

"Stooop, don't get all mushy on me." Egres whined. "...but, thank you."

They fell easily into habit as he asked her what he'd missed at school and if she'd seen anything new from the "other side", as he liked to tease. Hours flew by as they talked to each other. Zoraiya's mother had taken a cocktail of narcotics and was out before everyone had finished dinner.

By midnight, everyone was asleep except for Zoraiya. She hid in the laundry room as she finished washing dirty clothes, Egres speaking animatedly. When she finally glanced at the clock on her phone she sucked in a breath between her teeth.

"I'm really sorry, I have to get to bed or I'll never survive tomorrow. You sure you're not coming in?" She asked.

"I'll probably sleep through homeroom and come in closer to lunch." Replied Egres. "I'll shoot you a text, don't worry."

As soon as they hung up, Zoraiya lumbered into her room and threw herself in bed, falling asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.

When morning arrived, she barely registered anything she was doing. On auto pilot, she managed to get her siblings dressed and ready for school. As they were leaving their apartment, Zoraiya had to catch herself against the door frame. No one noticed her stumble, her family already settled into their car.

A tingling sensation formed from her neck and reached down her spine, a low hum in her ears. The feeling disappeared as fast as it came, Zoraiya carefully making her way down the stairs to her mom's car. She remained silent all the way to school.

When her mother dropped her off, Zoraiya checked to see if Egres was waiting at their usual spot, only to aim straight for her homeroom when she didn't catch sight of his bright blue mohawk. There she sat in her assigned seat at the center of the class and laid her head on her arms. While she didn't feel nauseous or any other ill symptom, she sure felt tired.

Zoraiya had started to drift off in to sleep when the bell rang for the morning announcements. She didn't move a muscle as the teacher closed their classroom door and was reaching for the tv. Suddenly it flickered on, the intercom producing a static noise and a high-pitched frequency that had Zoraiya and four other classmates clasping at their ears in pain. The teacher and students that were unaffected looked at them in horror as they dropped to the floor writhing.

No one knew what was happening. Outside the classroom, wailing and thuds could be heard as other teens dropped like flies. Those affected by the sound continued to convulse after the high pitched noise stopped.

The television finally adjusted to reveal an average looking man with shoulder length brown hair and eyes sitting behind a desk. His hands were folded demurely by the microphone seated in front of him. The intercom became quiet and he smiled, revealing sharp canines.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we interrupt your morning announcements for one of our own."

Doors crashed open throughout the school and a synchronized march thudded in the halls as beings in hooded robes barged into the classrooms, ignoring the kids screams and the teachers' threats as they loomed over those still on the floor.

"We've come to relieve you of your burdens."

Zoraiya gasped as a strong grip latched on to her from underneath her arms and pulled her up from the ground with ease. The shouts ceased as some of the hooded figures broke from their group and entranced the people that hadn't been affected by the intercom. All she could do was watch as her body remained locked and she had to lean into the being that was leading her. Her muscles twitched painfully as she was forced to walk out the school.

As they passed the open classrooms, she could see the other students and teachers were slack jawed, their eyes unfocused. Whatever was being done to them, they no longer seemed to be aware of the mass kidnapping happening right before them.

"There is no further need of your assistance at this time." The man declared before his image disappeared from the screens.

As they made their way through the school parking lot, Zoraiya tried to fight past her stiff neck and look around to see who else was amongst them. She caught a glimpse of Egres, a strange black veiny patch spreading underneath his skin around his wide eyes. He looked up at the being leading him and said something she couldn't hear. Before she could call out to him, he was steered away towards the center of the asphalt. The air there flickered as if it was emanating intense heat. Egres and his leader walked straight through and disappeared without a sound.

Zoraiya stumbled as shock ran through her. For a moment she thought her eyes were playing tricks on her, but the closer she got there was no denying what she saw. The air flickered once before revealing a transparent image of a room with multiple pods and what she assumed were medical instruments.

"This is a joke, right?" She thought she said.

All that came out was mumbling as she began to lose feeling throughout her body. She tried to look up at the being clasping her shoulder. The only thing she could see was a glint of hawk like eyes before she felt as if someone drenched her in ice cold water. That was the only hint she got that she had walked through the portal before she lost consciousness.

~~~~~~~~~

There was no telling how much time had passed. Zoraiya could barely remember where she was. At one point she awoke to her own agonized scream, the strain ripping her throat to shreds and making her choke on her own blood. Her arms were pinned to a gurney, her hands clawing at the table until her nails were cracked and raw. Her body felt as if it were being torn from the inside, her very bones on fire. She frantically flipped her head side to side to figure out her surroundings, barely registering that the reason she couldn't see was because she was blindfolded.

The smell of burning flesh pierced Zoraiya's nose and caused her heart to beat erratically in fear. She felt something stab her right shoulder causing her to arch out from her gurney and thrash as she tried to get away from the pain. Her voice came out as an angry rasp as she pleaded for the pain to stop.

Cold hands roamed her naked body, her skin so sensitive it felt like they were raking lit coals all over her. Someone placed a hand on her chest and tried to pin her still as they grabbed her jaw. They forced her mouth open and force fed her a drink that tasted like jet fuel, their hand clamping her lips shut. Within seconds she lost all control as she felt her bones snap one by one, her muscles convulsing once more. This time she welcomed the darkness as she passed out from the pain.

The next time Zoraiya opened her eyes, she could see a sleeping Egres beside her, a blissful smile on his lips. She let out a shaky breath of gratitude before she joined him.

~~~~~~~~~

"That's my human and I'll be damned if I let you keep me from her any longer. I've followed your damned rules, now MOVE."

Zoraiya jolted awake as someone was thrown against a wall, the metallic bang reverberating through her skull. She clutched at her head with both hands and squeezed her eyes shut.

It was pitch black, the only light coming from underneath the door of the room she was in; that little sliver was more than she could bare. She might as well have been staring straight into the sun with no protection.

Before she could call out for them to shut up, the owner of the piercing voice opened her door and slipped in. All she saw was his silhouette as he kicked the slumped body away from him before shutting her door. She tried to ask where she was, but her vocal cords were still torn to shreds.

"Don't move around too much. Stay where you are. I just wanted to finally see you...." The English accent and effeminate inflection were a far cry from the bellow that had awoken Zoraiya. She tried to respond but all that came out was a raspy sob, her body still throbbing. She curled in on herself, tears falling down her cheeks and drenching her pillow.

The man cried out her name as he rushed to her side to kneel beside her. He began to caress her hair gently, whispering soft words of care and encouragement.

"What d-did you do to m-me?" Zoraiya finally bit out in between sobs.

"Oh, love, I swear to you. If I was given any say I would have spared you this pain."

Vaguely she noted a lovely scent from his wrist as he kept stroking her hair. A mix of jasmine and cinnamon; subtle, yet strong enough to keep her attention away from the pain.

"It was absolutely necessary, Zoraiya. You wouldn't have survived otherwise." He said.

Slowly, Zoraiya's muscles began to loosen up. She was sure she could move her neck, but she was still afraid to look at him.

"It hurts everywhere." She whimpered.

"And you'll come out stronger from it." He gently raised her into a sitting position and lifted a small vial to her lips.

Zoraiya struggled to back away from him but his grip was firm. He tilted her head back, the movement making her feel as if someone was punching her from the inside of her skull. She felt him slip the tip of his thumb in between her lips and open her mouth. That alone made her realize just how weak she was. She wanted to fight back but the pain and exhaustion were unbearable.

"Drink up."

The metallic tang that hit her tongue had her instantly gagging. She glared at him with astonishment even though she still couldn't make out his features. The unmistakable taste of blood took over her senses. Thankfully it was barely a sip, but that was more than enough for her. The man pulled away as she coughed and retched.

"Oh, that's fucking disgusting!" She said around a glob of bloody saliva before spitting it on the floor. As she straightened, she felt a ball of warmth form in the center of her chest before spreading to the tips of her fingers and toes. Within seconds her pain completely disappeared, her eyesight sharpening until she could make out every detail of her room.

Nothing was familiar. The room was small and sparse, a 2x4 closet on her left housed unrecognizable clothes. Opposite the foot of her bed was a small bathroom with a standalone shower, the bedroom door five feet to the right of the facility.

Finally, her gaze turned to the man that had taken her pain away.

Bright magenta eyes with catlike pupils stared back at her. Black chin length curly hair framed a sharp, beautiful face. His lips spread into a Cheshire cat grin. Memories of this man began to assail her, her brain flowing with information she didn't have before. Without a shadow of a doubt, this was the one being she could trust with her life. She couldn't believe it...

Her best friend.

"Tori?" She breathed.

The man's grin spread wider, his eyes going misty. He slowly reached out a shaking hand, his eyes never moving from hers. Without hesitation Zoraiya grabbed it, pulling Tori on to her bed and hugging him close as she sobbed, this time out of happiness.

For the first time in all her life, Zoraiya was finally close to home.

A/N: I apologize for the cringe, this is my first attempt at finally putting this story out there. I have always wanted to share this with people other than my best friend, but I've always been kind of embarrassed/self conscious about my work lol regardless, I truly hope anyone reading this will enjoy.