#they were loudly lamenting the lack of face painting

[nattousan]

literally stumbled into a chalk drawing competition while volunteering at another booth, design was freestyled the first day, went home, polished it up in procreate, went back the next day and banged it out!! my spine feels like a crumpled up CVS receipt but i'm pretty happy with how it came out!

this is what 4th place out of 4 looks like babeyy B) 💪💪

[hoodoo12]

Fortress

A request for “the reader is having a bad time mental health wise and they make a blanket fort together and just. Chill? Maybe cuddles and some reassurances?“ led to this, with some other influences. We could all use some comfort nowadays.

Mature (Dewey Finn/reader)

@thewolfisapartofmysoul  @janitor-boy @beejiesbitch @turtlepated @beetlewise-and-pennyjuice @mimiscappinisideblog 

Enjoy! `

It’d been bad. So bad. You were tired and more than that, weary. Everything was too much but still you pushed yourself through each day, because it was expected of you, because people counted on you, because there wasn’t anything else to do anyway, during these times.

You got up, went to work, came home, went to bed. On repeat. Day after day. You wanted to see Dewey--really see him--but he’d been following the stay at home orders in his apartment, so all you really had were text messages and the occasionally zoom call. Each time you saw him on the grainy video, his hair looked wilder, his beard more scraggly. 

He listened to your complaining. He made appropriate noises when you told him how tired you were, and how sad you were that everything had been turned upside down. He wasn’t much into traveling, but nodded when you started crying about the fact a trip you’d been looking forward to had been canceled. He might have been bored, but he never voiced that to you. Instead, he reassured you that everything was going to be okay. You never realized how much you missed hugging him or watching him play Guitar Hero. Just being with him seemed like a luxury that you never realized until it was taken away.

The very rare occasions you mentioned maybe some sexting or even maybe possibly some mutual video sex didn’t end well due to embarrassment. Both his and yours.

Dewey Finn wasn’t a dick pic kind of guy.

So there was nothing to do but keep plodding along. Every message between you ended with, “I can’t wait to see you again.”

Until one day, almost two months into this, instead of, “I can’t wait to see you again,” he said, “Why don’t you come over?”

“What?” “Come over. We haven’t actually been together for so long.” That’s what you wanted. Exactly what you wanted. But now that it was officially offered, you worried. “I don’t know, Dew--you haven’t been out, if I got you sick because I’ve been working this whole time . . . I don’t want to be the reason you get sick!”

“I’m not gonna get sick.” His reassurance crashed against the rocks of your worry. “It’s not like there aren’t people around. I get Door Dash. I even go down  to the lobby to get the mail.” His little brushes with the outside world were nothing like yours: you were required to work and deal with random members of the public. It was a huge component of your stress, just having to be out and around people while everything on the news was dire and worrisome. Dewey knew all that; it was one of the things you mentioned repeatedly when you spoke with him. Still, he insisted. “I miss you, baby. I want to see you again. I want to hug you again. Don’t you miss me?” That was something else you lamented to him frequently. For him to toss it back to you was a low, but effective, blow.

“Okay. I’ll come over. But I’m not taking my mask off!”

He pointedly ignored your threat. “Good! Great! Awesome! I’ll have something delivered--you want those street tacos from the place down the road? I wonder if they’d deliver a frozen margarita--” You laughed, told him you’d see him tomorrow at seven, and he blew you a kiss that you returned. Worry was still a companion, but you had to admit you were excited to see him too. 

⁂

It felt weird to be out on the street and now walking up the stairs to someone else’s apartment. For two months it’d been nothing but hurrying to work and home, then a quick shower and trying to keep your low grade anxiety away until you fell asleep to do it all over again. It was that same anxiety that made you carry an extra set of clothes with you; you weren’t going anywhere near Dewey with clothes that had been out in the world, possibly contaminated. You were going to change the second you got in the door before he had a chance to hug you.

At his door, you knocked, heard a muffled, “Come in!” and actually sighed in relief that he wasn’t opening the door for you. That’d give you a chance to put on your spare clothing.

Opening his door and stepping inside the short hallway that served as an entry into the apartment, you were confronted with a barrier only a two, maybe three feet away--basically just enough for the door to swing inward. Dewey had created a wall of cardboard that blocked the hallway completely. Although there was a small entrance at the bottom, near the floor, you couldn’t see into the rest of his apartment at all. 

“Dewey, what the hell . . .” “Come on in, baby!” he called from somewhere deeper in, his voice almost as muffled as before. “There’s some hand sanitizer if you want!”

No lie; he’d left a pump bottle of sanitizer near the hole at the floor. This was weird but oddly intriguing. With a sigh, you quickly shed your outerwear and your street clothes, doused your hands in sanitizer, and slipped into the soft pants and tee shirt you’d brought along for what you’d thought would be an evening of just lounging with Dewey. You hadn’t expected any of what you’d seen so far. 

“Okay. I’m coming in!” you said loudly, crouching to look into the hole. 

It was dark in there. What the heck had Dewey done? “Okay, baby! Can’t wait to see you!”

Keeping your phone clenched in your hand for some light, feeling a little like Alice going into  a rabbit hole, you awkwardly started to crawl on your hands and knees into the entrance.

Dewey had created some kind of cardboard tunnel. Where he’d gotten all the cardboard and duct tape was beyond you, let alone figuring out how he’d even come up with something like this. He’d never mentioned anything like it to you in any of your conversations. 

Scooting along, it was longer than you expected, with a couple of switchbacks and one place tall enough you could stand in, although you had to turn sideways to squeeze along the corridor he’d created.  Occasionally he’d call out to you, saying you were doing great, that it was just a little further; that he couldn’t wait to see you. 

It almost sounded like he’d put cameras up and was watching your progress, but you hadn’t seen any. The shaking of the structure as you made your way through it must have been advertising where you were enough. 

Finally, after crawling on his floors through an semi-creepy cardboard tunnel for what seemed like too long for the size of his apartment, you saw a light up ahead. 

After one more corner, you found that, although still enclosed in a dome of cardboard, it opened up to a larger--for lack of a better word--cavern. A pile of blankets and pillows filled the space. A lamp, with its electrical cord snaking out to somewhere that wasn’t inside this cave, lit the area. Sitting in the middle of all of it, was Dewey on his mattress, grinning like a fool. He wore no mask, and you saw he’d trimmed his beard. 

“You made it!” he greeted you, holding his hand out for yours. The space wasn’t tall enough to stand up in. You crawled out of the tunnel and next to him, sitting up. For a moment, all you could do was hug and then you couldn’t help but want to kiss him, so you ditched the mask you insisted you would wear. It made your heart pound to feel how strongly he returned the affection. Finally though, after kissing him so long your lips tingled, you had to pull back and ask, “Dewey, what is all this?”

He shrugged. “Just something I did for you, baby. We can’t travel anywhere, so this was the best I could do like an adventure. Here--I got those tacos.” He reached to his side and grabbed a paper bag. “Contactless delivery,” he assured you as he pulled individually boxed food out.

With a smile, you accepted one. While the two of you shared the messy meal, he told you about how he’d planned out this whole thing: a vague outline of how he wanted it to be, collecting cardboard from the neighbors and bodega around the corner, ordering <i>so</i> much duct tape. The construction had taken some time, and he’d given up living space to create the structure. You let him talk, happy to hear about something that was creative and unique. It was nice to focus him and what he’d done for you, instead of the anxiety that threatened to drag you under. 

Finally, full of tacos and still so happy to just be with him, you lay back on his mattress. After shoving all the garbage back into the bag it’d arrived in, Dewey joined you. “Oh!” he exclaimed. “One more thing!”

You expected that to lead to another kiss, but were wrong. Dewey stretched around and fumbled with the switch for the lamp, Managing to turn it off, the small space was plunged into darkness. Reaching for him to help settle him beside you, you said, “Dewey, what--”

“Shhh. Just look.” Faintly, as your eyes adjusted, luminous specks became clear on the cardboard above and around you. There was no pattern to them; it was like he’d flicked a brush of paint randomly at the cardboard. But here and there were actual stars of varying sizes, drawn in the little-kid way of one line crossing over itself to make the five points. 

In the absolute dark, the pale green-white of the paint gave a passable impression of a starry sky. 

Dewey settled snuggly beside you. It was comfortable in this nest of blankets, with him so close. 

“I wanted this to be a safe space for you. Something far away from out there,” he whispered. “Just you and me and a galaxy above us.”

Lucky for you it was dark, because then he couldn’t see the tears that filled your eyes. You were pretty sure he knew anyway, as you buried your face in his shoulder and neck and made them both wet, but he didn’t say anything of it. You managed to give him a whispered thanks in return, and spent the rest of the night pressed against him, sheltered in a cardboard cave. fin

The inspiration for this came not only from the prompt, but from Will Blum’s self-made quarantine project: “Floyd Collins”. Check it out (and the ‘making of’ documentary called “Through the Mountain”, also available on YouTube); it is amazing and truly a labor of love. 

[sinnamonn]

Welcome to Hell Ch2. “Meet Mammon”

Gia meets their new guard demon, “Mammon”. It does not go well. Also because this is my fic and I can do whatever I want Obey me is now in the same universe as It’s Always Sunny.

Word count: 1.7 K

The demon pointed an accusatory finger at the redhead.

Gia resisted the urge to bite it right off.

“Listen up, because I’m only gonna say this once!” He barked, “If you value your life then you’ll hand over all your money now! And anything else of value!”

Was this guy for real!? This bitchass was trying to rob them!? Oh hell no, Gia was not going to get robbed by some twink that still used fucking axe body spray!!

“Otherwise I’ll wipe that—“

“Fuck that and fuck you!” Gia yelled, cutting the demon off mid-threat, “Listen here, asshole, I’m not getting robbed by some twink!”

“Who’re you callin’ a twink!?”

“You, dumbass!”

“You don’t know what you’re dealin’ with, little bitch.” He spat, snarling down at them. Gia only bit back,

“I’m dealin’ with a punkass that’s about to get their shit rocked!”

“Mammon! Shut up or I’ll punch you!” Lucifer snapped, “And Gia, language!”

And then Lucifer just punched Mammon, causing him to stumble back a bit while gripping his head.

“GAH, OW! Hey, what’s the big idea!?” Mammon whined, “I thought you were actually gonna give me a chance to shut up before punching me!”

Satan gestured to his older brother, “Gia, meet Mammon, Avatar of Greed. He oversees all forms of it,” he explained, “whenever he takes a liking to someone they suddenly find themselves awash in money.”

“And he’s a masochist, that part’s important~!” Asmo added, “So I can’t wait to see you put him in his place some more!”

Ok. Ew. Gia didn’t need to know that.

“I didn’t need to know that.” Gia replied flatly.

“And it just so happens I have a job for my masochist of a brother.”Lucifer stated, only to be cut off again by Mammon.

“Quit tellin’ lies! I ain’t asked for that punch and I ain’t a masochist!”

“Mammon, you are going to be charged with seeing to this human’s needs during the exchange.” Lucifer ordered, “I expect your full cooperation.”

“WHAT!?” Both Gia and Mammon yelled at the elder demon.

“Wha!? Why me!?” Mammon exclaimed.

“Yeah, why him!? He literally just tried to rob me!” Gia argued.

“As, lucky you, Mammon! I’m so jealous.” Asmo pouted.

“Then you take them!”

Wait no, Gia got the feeling staying with Asmo might just be worse than Mammon.

“Huh? Hell no. Watching them match your energy is too funny.” He replied quickly.

“You just said you were jealous!” Mammon all but screeched.

“Just give up Mammon. There’s no getting out of this.” Satan looked at though he was holding back laughter, “You know you can’t deny a direct order from Lucifer.”

“But why me!? Why can’t Beel do it?” He whined

“If we hand Gia over to Beel we might as well just tell him to eat them.” Asmo said, now scrolling through his DDD.

“Yeah, I can’t promise I wouldn’t.” Beel agreed.

“...Mammon?” Lucifer asked lowley , his tone was dangerous.

“W-What?”

“Surely you’re not going to tell me you object to this arrangement, are you?”

For the first time, during his introduction, Mammon was quiet. He only held a sour look on his face before loudly groaning, “Ugh, I hate you guys! Fine, I’ll do it, ok!?” His attention turned back to Gia, “As much as I don’t wanna look after you, I’ve got no choice. It’s a huge pain in the ass and I’m too important for this kind of thing.”

Sure buddy, keep telling yourself that.

“But Lucifer told me to do it, so I will. But in return you better not cause me any trouble, got it?!”

Gia took back what she first thought of Mammon. He was worse than the high school boys that got stupidly mad when you didn’t stand for the pledge.

“If you can stay off my dick,” Gia sneered, “we might have a deal.”

“Fine by me, human. Just don’t forget whose boss around here.” Mammon shot back.

“Now that that’s settled,” Lucifer cut in before Gia could say anything else, “Mammon, show them to the house and try not to kill each other.”

‘No promises.’ Gia thought, reluctantly following Mammon out of the hell.

———

That lack of depth perception was really biting Gia in the ass. They felt more like a bird trying to escape a hall of mirrors, bumping into and bouncing off of walls. It also didn’t help that Mammon was practically speedwalking away from them.

“Oi! Human! Would ya pick up the pace, we don’t got all night!” He shouted over his shoulder.

“Oh sorry! Lemme just pop my eye back in and magically gain perfect vision!” They sarcastically called back, “OH WAIT! I can’t!”

Mammon stopped mid-step before turning on his heel and striding over to Gia.

“Wait...you’re missing an eye?” He questioned.

Oh great, was he gonna do that mock-sympathy schick they got more than enough back in their world?

“Damn, Lucifer couldn’t even get a human with all their parts!” He cackled, clenching his gut, as if this were the funniest thing in the world, “He had to grab some broken fucking human! That’s hilarious! ”

Broken....

Did he really just call them BROKEN?

Gia saw red, their lip pulled back into a venomous snarl. How fucking dare he! They were a lot of things but broken was not one of them.

“Oh, I’ll show you broken!”

The redhead kicked the demon’s kneecaps with all this might.

“OW! YOU BITCH!”

Satan and Asmodeus watched as the two left for the House of Lamentation, absolutely transfixed on the two’s interaction. It was like one of Asmodeus’ trashy reality tv shows came to life, neither of them could look away.

“Uh, Lucifer, they’re already fighting.” Satan said, earning a groan from the eldest. Lucifer could feel a migraine coming on, a bad one.

“Oh my god the human just kicked Mammon’s kneecaps!” Asmo laughed, he was recording the entire interaction, “Oh he’s mad!”

“Shit, do I need to intervene?” He asked with only mild concern.

“Hmm, maybe..” Satan watched as Mammon grabbed for Gia, “wait, no he’s just carrying them back to the house.”

————

“PUT ME DOWN!” Gia beat on the demons back, “This is demeaning!”

“Just be happy that the Great Mammon was kind enough to help you!” Mammon shot back, “If you think this is demeaning then imagine how I feel! Why should I have to look after some human !?”

“ Um,bitch, I got isekaied to hell without my consent and now I’m stuck with a bunch of rich boys who reek of ‘I peaked in high school’!”

Mammon gasped, “I did not peak! The Great Mammon only goes up!I’m practically a golden god!”

Why did they feel like they heard that somewhere before? Maybe...back home? Oh shit yeah, Mammon talked exactly like this one guy who owned a bar they’d always go to when they were bored. Wasn’t his name Denny or something?

“And just so we’re clear,” Mammon continued, “it’s not like I can’t say no to Lucifer, okay!?”

Gia didn’t ask.

“I only agreed to babysit you because, um...Well you know, because…...uh…”

“It’s ok, take your time.” Gia said

“Grr! It doesn’t matter! Just don’t go thinking I’m scared of Lucifer or anything! Because I’m not!” He snapped.

“Uh-huh, sure.”

Mammon finally put them down when the two got to the house.

Gia whistled, taking in just how...elegant? No, elegant wasn’t the word they were looking for? A better way to describe the house would probably be maximalist. When they entered they were met with a double stairway accented by two gigantic gargoyle statues. Purple wallpaper clung to the walls littered with paintings of people, Allistar Crowley being the only one Gia recognized.

“This is the House of Lamentation. It’s one of the dorms here at RAD.” Mammon explained, stepping forward, “Well, it's not just one of the dorms. It’s the dorm reserved for student council members….and you I guess.” Mammon prattled on, mostly about himself, “Lucifer, Asmo, and the others take every chance they can get to insult me. Callin’ me scum, sayin’ I’m a money- grabber and stuff…..”

Gia was really only half paying attention, they opted rather to try and figure out who the other people in the photos were. Cultists, perhaps?

“...In other words, I’m a big shot. A real big shot. Like, even other big shots are impressed by—hey are you even listening!?”

“Hm? Sorry, what? I got distracted by the pictures.” Gia gestured loosely to the walls.

Mammon growled, “I was just saying, don’t you go thinkingI’m just some ordinary demon. I’m nothing like those other peons walking the halls here.”

“Ok, cool. Figured as much.” Gia shrugged

“So I suggest-wait what?”

“I figured all of you were pretty powerful, why else would Diavolo leave me with all of you? Demons eat humans, so you put the human with your most powerful and loyal demons as protectors.” Gia elaborated, “So that implies that you’re the most trustworthy and capable of this task, right? Even if you did..try to rob me. But why else would Lucifer and the rest of your brothers leave me in your care?”

Mammon stared wide-eyed down at Gia, they could practically see the gears turning in his head—wait did his cheeks get darker?

He turned around before Gia could really tell, “Well-I’m—I mean!—Duh, of course the Great Mammon is capable!!” He sputtered, “B-But don’t think flattery is getting you anywhere! You’re still just some stupid human!”

“I wasn’t trying to, it’s just logic.”

“SHUT UP. Just-! Let’s just go to your room, OK!?”

Instead of lugging Gia over his shoulder, Mammon instead grabbed their wrist and began dragging them up the stairs, avoiding looking at them.

“Ow! Fine! Lay off the dragging, though!”

Gia’s room was cottagecore as fuck. That was the only way they could best describe it. The room looked like it had been taken out of a fairytale book, it wasn’t exactly Gia’s style but they could appreciate the aesthetic. Objectively, the room was very pretty. That idea was hammered in the more Gia explored it.

It was bigger than the apartment they shared with their mom. In truth, it was more like a closet that somehow fit a bed and dresser.

“Holy shit this bed is soft.” Gia commented once they flopped onto the comforter, “And these pillows! They’re not flat! I forgot they could be fluffy.”

“Oi, human, I got some advice for you,” Mammon leaned over the bed, “ If you wanna survive even a day here in the Devildom, you’d better listen real close to what I’m about to say.”

“Aight.” Gia turned their attention back to the demon.

“If it ever looks like a demon is about to attack you..run. Either that, or die.” Mammon said grimly.

“That’s...Honestly not the worst advice I’ve ever gotten.” They replied.

“How about I vote you to die, Mammon!”

Gia jumped at the new voice, shooting up out of the bed and looking towards the door frame. There stood a pissed off looking guy with purple hair, glaring daggers at Mammon

“AH..! Levi…!” Mammon exclaimed.

[thebiasrekkers]

Make It Right [BTS Mafia AU]

Plot: “It’s always darkest before the dawn…” It’s a dog-eat-dog world in Seoul, South Korea. One has to dwell in the shadows in order to reach for the light. What are you willing to sacrifice in order to feel the sunlight on your face? What will it take to drag you back into darkness? How long will the journey be to make it right?

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Genre: Series | Mafia!AU | Crime!AU | Angst | Romance/Fluff | Smut

Pairings: Jin x OC | Taehyung/Hoseok x OC | Yoongi/Jungkook x OC

Warnings: Graphic Violence (bloody violence), Heavy Language, Angst, Slow Burn, Smut

Previous Chapters: Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || Admin E’s WP || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 2,327

Tag List: @prisczero, @pinkpjmin, @btsaudge, @flowerwrites06, @unoriginal-username15432, @halussali, @shrimpmsg, @ggukkieland​

AN: And here we go...

Chapter 57: Boy Meets Evil

“But in order to be free from this crime, it’s impossible to forget and give up.”

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

One Week Later Incheon – Sungui; Nam District South Korea

Hoseok and Seokjin stood side by side as they looked at the large, gray building in front of them. They parked their car at the end of the long road, surveying their surroundings. The morning sky was overcast and shrouded the landscape in hues of grays; desaturating everything. Autumn was already upon them and foliage that was once fully in bloom would soon begin singing their songs of lamentation as they died.

It was the season for beginnings to come to an end.

The old factory was worn from years of neglect. Rust spots were speckled over the iron and there were a few spider cracks along large windows on every side. Several other sedans were parked nearby, presumably Jade Fang members. Hoseok cast a critical eye over them, his gaze meeting Seokjin’s. They both nodded, stepping in sync as they approached the large metal double doors.

His hand went out to reach for the handle, pulling it open. The hinges screamed from abuse, crying for attention. The sound wailed through the expanse as the bottom portion of the door scraped along the concrete flooring. Seokjin followed closely as he entered, pulling the door closed behind him. The ambient noise of the city quickly transformed into that of a tomb.

Their footsteps echoed over the wide space. Hoseok took note of the many wooden crates that lined either walls, giving access to a variety of blind spots. The factory had a single floor that was one big open space. High above it, catwalks ran along the rafters all leading from the factory manager’s office: a metal cube suspended at one end of the warehouse. Abandoned shelf scaffolding broke up the empty space. Crates and pallets were strewn around, making decent hiding places.

He frowned when a few of Changkyun’s underlings looked at him suspiciously – each of them armed with bats, pipes, and knives. Sliding his hand into his pocket, he smirked while shaking his head. It was obvious that Changkyun didn’t trust him and that was fine. After the damage he’d caused, Hoseok couldn’t blame him for taking precautions against him.

Even if this was supposed to be a general meeting.

“Jin Hyung,” a voice called to them, causing both men to halt in their steps.

They looked over to the right where another portion of the factory broke off, seeing Wonho reveal himself. He flicked his tongue out over his lip ring, grinning like a man who’d just won a high stakes poker game. Hoseok slowly blinked as Seokjin situated himself to his right.

Wonho stopped just a few feet short from them. “I didn’t expect you to be here. I figured it would be Namjoon-ah like usual.”

Seokjin shrugged. “Yeah well, we’ve decided not to be so predictable.”

They watched him peer around them, as though he was expecting more people. “The others?”

“None of your business. Besides, he asked to meet me, did he not?”

Hoseok flicked some of his hair out of his eyes, watching the smirk on Wonho’s face grow a little more. There was a small flame of anger that continued to burn in his chest. But he didn’t say anything. He waited for Wonho to look at him, bowing his head in respect, before giving a gentle sigh.

“Where’s Changkyun-ah?”

Without breaking their gaze, Wonho raised his hand up and pointed toward the large metal stairwell that led to the manager’s office. Hoseok started to make his way to the stairwell, but stopped when Wonho side-stepped into his path. He cut his eyes at him, his brows knitting tightly. He was in no mood to play any sort of games right now. This was about business.

“Sorry Hoseok-ah,” he said, holding his hands up in a mock show of surrender, “gotta search you. Boss’s orders.”

Hoseok looked around at the armed men in the warehouse before meeting Wonho’s gaze. “…are you fuckin’ serious?”

Seokjin took a step forward but Hoseok held an arm out to stop him. He rolled his eyes, lifting his other arm so that Wonho could frisk him. No one moved, however, and this irritated him.

“Whatever. Let’s get this over with, huh? I don’t have all day.”

“Yes, yes,” he said, moving toward him.

It didn’t take long for Wonho to search him. The clothing he wore was loose-fitting around his torso while his pants were a slim fit. It made movement easier for him, but would have been obvious had he concealed anything on his person. After the search was finished, he stepped to the side to let Hoseok through. He heard Seokjin move only to take note of the sound of him being stopped. He glanced over his shoulder to see that Wonho was now impeding his brother’s path.

“Wonho-yah,” came Seokjin’s even tone, “move.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Jin Hyung. Hoseok-ah has to go on alone.” He grinned. “You can keep me company instead.”

“It’s okay, Jin Hyung,” reassured Hoseok, “I can handle it from here.”

Seokjin didn’t seem satisfied with this, but he shook his head. He knew there was no stopping Hoseok now that he was set to take care of things once and for all. This would be the last time they would have this altercation with their former brothers of the underworld. Timing was crucial.

Hoseok ascended the stairwell slowly, the iron steps rattling under him as he moved. Both hands were in his pockets as he walked, his eyes continuing to look at all the various angles of the factory warehouse. If he knew Changkyun as well as he thought he did, then his other upper-tiered members were scattered around outside. They would be on the lookout for anyone to try and shake things up.

But he already had an ace up his sleeve for that.

At the top of the stairs, the door to the office stood. To the left, a grated walkway led out over the floor, spreading into catwalks that sprawled the entire place. There was a small square window on the door smudged with dirt. He knocked loudly, the sound reverberating off the walls and bouncing back to hit his body in small tremors. When the door opened, it was Shownu standing in the doorway. They stood silently, almost gauging the other, before he shifted off to the side to allow him entrance. Once inside, Shownu exited the manager’s office and closed the door behind him.

Hoseok saw Changkyun nursing a cup of coffee from an electric kettle. The only furniture in the room were two heavy wooden tables. The rest of the office was bare; a thin slit of a window overlooking the warehouse floor. He watched him turn, smiling as he sipped from the mug. Changkyun held out the cup to Hoseok.

“Did you want me to make you a cup?”

“Are you repurposing this place?”

Changkyun snapped his fingers and pointed at him, a look of satisfaction clearly painted over his face. “Wow, you don’t miss a thing, do you Hyung?”

He shrugged, gesturing to the electric kettle with a simple tilt of his head.

“The market value for this place was decent. People need jobs and I just got my hands on a permit to start turning this into a mass shipping facility.”

“How long have you been working on this?”

He watched him hum, as if he really needed a moment to pause and think. “A few months now.”

“I see.”

“There’s money to be made, so why not make it?” He walked back over to the kettle where another mug sat on the table. “Did you want coffee or no?”

Sighing, Hoseok pulled the sleeve of his jacket back to look at his watch. “I thought we were here to talk business?”

“Always so serious,” he said, smiling, “you can relax. I won’t bite.”

“You killed my brothers and my sister-in-law,” came Hoseok’s slow response, “what the fuck did you expect?”

Changkyun clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth while shaking his head. “Oh, come on now. I already told you that this wasn’t personal.”

“You made it personal.”

“Wrong!” His voice boomed out over the small space. “I made a point.”

Hoseok scoffed. “Is that what you call it? A point?”

“Yes, I do.” He set the cup down on the table. “I warned you, Hyung, about how weak your defenses were when you left your power behind. The people around you were at risk the minute you decided to step into the light. Money and power talk and while money has done you some good, your lack of power exposed your neck to me.”

There was a pregnant pause that stretched between them. He wasn’t sure if Changkyun was waiting for him to respond to his statements, but there was nothing for him to say. Not yet. He wanted to hear everything his former brother had to unleash on him before he came out with a rebuttal of his own.

Changkyun moved away from the table, crossing the room to stand opposite of him. His back was now to the office window while Hoseok’s remained facing the door. They stared each other down; both attempting to read the other.

If looks could kill…

“Your business was with us, the Golden Jackals. You didn’t have to drag Eden into it. She had nothing to do with this.”

Changkyun waggled his finger at him. “That’s where you’re wrong.”

“How?”

“Attacking just you would have seemed personal. That’s not my endgame. Eden was an unfortunate casualty, but she was also a necessary piece that you needed to lose in this game.”

A flash of burning outrage slashed across Hoseok’s chest. For him to refer to his sister-in-law as a mere “casualty” was about as much as he could stand. But instead of launching himself across the room to lay into him, he curled his hands into fists at his sides. He couldn’t let him get under his skin so soon. They’d only just started talking.

He took a breath, a seemingly vain attempt to dampen his anger.

“So,” Hoseok breathed, “you still think this is some kind of game, huh?”

“I do.” He grinned. “And I’ve won.”

Snorting, Hoseok folded his arms across his chest. “The game isn’t over, Changkyun-ah. I still haven’t given you the keys to my kingdom.”

He watched Changkyun’s mouth form into a small ‘O’ before it spread into an arrogant smirk. “And are you?”

“They’re not mine to give.”

“I beg to differ.” Changkyun took another step closer. “You held Yongsan and Gangnam in your hands for years. You controlled those territories in a way that the other district bosses can’t ignore. It won’t be as easy as a simple gang scuffle to settle things.”

Hoseok frowned. “And why not?”

“Because you made it that way.”

He couldn’t stop the incredulous laugh that slipped out of him. “So what? This is my responsibility?”

“It never stopped being your responsibility.” He closed the distance even further, reaching a hand to grasp at Hoseok’s shoulder. “Don’t you see that?”

For a while, all Hoseok could do was look back at him. This was the man he once considered a good friend; a brother. They had so many ideas for the future. Ideas to make things better. Back when everything made sense because life was simpler. Hoseok believed he could talk Changkyun into turning over a new leaf with him – of paving a road with clean hands and leaving the dirtiness of the underworld behind them. He thought that Changkyun was better suited for a life that didn’t involve crime, betrayal, and cruelty.

The hope for that began to dwindle the day Hoseok saw him murder the former Jade Fangs leader in cold blood.

It completely vanished when he cremated his family’s bodies.

“It’s still not too late, Hyung,” urged Changkyun gently, “you can still join me. Reclaim your territories and come back home. I don’t want to hurt you anymore than I already have.”

Hoseok sighed, closing his eyes and hanging his head slightly. “Changkyun-ah.” He lifted his head, eyelids fluttering as he opened them to meet the other man’s gaze. “I’m glad we had this talk. You’ve confirmed a few things for me.”

Changkyun canted his head slightly, his calm and welcoming expression melting into slight confusion. “What things?”

“That you haven’t changed. That you never will change.” Hoseok smiled pityingly at him. “You’re incapable of it.”

He felt his hand sliding off his shoulder, dropping limply at his side as he frowned. He didn’t say anything, so Hoseok continued.

“You’ve always been so sneaky. Planning everything so that you are always five steps ahead of the person you’re trying to overtake. You’re good at playing the long game and that’s why you always think you’ve won. That you’ll never be beaten.”

“I have yet to be proven wrong.”

“I’m a thinker too. But there are better thinkers at my side. People who retraced months of your steps in the process of doing their research. People who are better at getting into your head than I am.” Hoseok gave a wide gesture to the empty office space around them. “People who knew about your plans for this warehouse days before my arrival.”

For the first time since their conversation began, Changkyun looked perturbed. Hoseok wasn’t in the business of pouring salt into wounds, but he was done playing nice. He was done giving warnings.

He was finishing this today.

Lowering his gaze, he looked at his watch one more time. His smile grew a little bit wider as he locked his eyes with Changkyun’s – relishing in the realization that slowly overtook his face.

“And those same people found out that you had the gas and electric rewired for the building before having it turned on.”

And then the world shook violently beneath their feet from the explosion downstairs.

[artificialqueens]

Blue Neighborhood Series: WILD (Crystal/Nicky) - Mac

AN: Hi there, this is the first of a series of oneshots based off of Troye Sivan’s Blue Neighborhood album. The basic premise is that all the season 12 girls live in one neighborhood but have very different lives. Each song off the album applies to one of them/a pair of them. And we get to see how each of their lives intertwine. Does that make any sense? Who knows.

All my love to Meggie for beta-ing. Hope you enjoy!

Summary: Crystal can’t get her mind off her new neighbor.

Crystal groaned loudly as she heard yet another crash from the house next door.

She heard a few curses and another loud banging noise before the cul-de-sac went blissfully silent. Crystal fist-pumped the air as now she could finally, finally get some sleep. Who the hell moved into a new house at midnight?

Unluckily enough, another noise started sounding below Crystal’s window. This noise was softer and didn’t immediately warrant a groan of distaste. No, it sounded an awful lot like singing. The voice was muffled, but Crystal became more and more sure the voice was singing as the notes travelled up a floor to her room.

The person sounded… rather good. Crystal hated to admit that their new neighbors, who had the bright idea of moving houses in the middle of the night, were doing anything well, but the fact persisted.

The singing was rather good. And now Crystal was both awake and intrigued. So now, of course, Crystal had to get up to peer out the window and see who was doing the rather good singing.

It was dark. Midnight. So she could barely make out the figure, but it looked to be a girl about her age, high school senior, maybe junior. She was carrying boxes from the back of the moving truck into the house.

Fuck it,Crystal thought  She was already snooping; she might as well snoop more. She opened her window slowly, wincing as it creaked from disuse. She went slowly, drawing up the frame until the warm night air danced across her face.

She could hear the song more clearly now, still didn’t recognize it, but the singer was definitely a girl. It took Crystal a few more minutes to realize the song wasn’t in English. Her three years of French seemed to fail her in that moment, other than identifying that the song was in fact, French.

The girl looked to have blonde hair, or maybe that was just a trick of the faint garage light that illuminated her. Crystal leaned a bit closer to her window to get a better look, in the process she nearly knocked the screen out of the damn thing and cursed rather loudly.

There was a scuffling from under her window and Crystal ducked down so she couldn’t be seen.

“Hello?”

The voice was heavily accented.

“Is someone there?”

Crystal held her breath, not that it would help much, she was a whole story above her neighbor. Still, the intensity of the moment made her wary.

The girl must have given up looking because she went right back to moving boxes, but her singing turned into light humming, and Crystal surprised herself by being sad at that fact.

The days passed, and Crystal saw neither head nor tail of their new neighbor.

She brought it up on Wednesday, during lunch, or what was considered their lunch period.

Freshman year, Crystal would always steal away into the art room to work on her unfinished projects at any given moment. This included lunch, breaks between classes, and sometimes even during her other classes. After about a year of her doing this, and her friends complaining about never seeing her, they finally decided it would be easier to hole up in the stuffy art room with her rather than brave the bustling cafeteria.

Crystal nonchalantly mentioned the racket that occurred the other night while trying to seem invested in the unfinished painting in front of her.

“Oh yeah, the new girl, what’s her name, Nicole? Nina?” Jackie shrugged. “Something with an N.”

Jackie seemed unbothered by the appearance of the newest member to their neighborhood, as she went right back to studying for their chemistry exam. Heidi shrugged too and continued looking over Jackie’s shoulder as she studied for their chemistry exam.

“I think she’s French,” Crystal threw out.

Jackie hummed noncommittally, absorbed in her studies. Crystal was just about to shrug it off when Aiden piped up from the table beside her.  “You talkin about the new girl? The one that moved in at the asscrack of dawn?”

Crystal nodded.

“Her name is Nicolette, goes by Nicky. Moved from Marseilles, France. Only child. Seemingly lives with her single mother.”

Crystal and their present company looked up from what they were doing to stare wide-eyed at Aiden.

She just shrugged. “I know people.”

Crystal didn’t press further. She turned back to her unfinished painting and lamented that it wouldn’t paint itself.

But at the same time, her mind was reeling.

Nicolette.

Crystal liked that name. It seemed… fitting in a way.  

She went through the rest of her day with little care for anything else, Nicolette on repeat in her head.

She didn’t know why she was so absorbed in this girl. She shockingly didn’t seem to mind either.

When Crystal got home, she finally shook her strange stupor. She let the dogs out, made herself a snack and went up to her room to start on the metric fuckton of homework she had to do.

She sat down, opened her textbook, and promptly closed it again. She did this twice more, before actually starting to read the words inside.

Her focus drifted after the first few lines, along with her eyes. and she soon found herself looking out her window, but not just aimlessly, looking directly into the eyes of the neighbor she had been obsessing over for most of the day.

Crystal startled herself when she realized what she was doing, and had the decency to blush. The girl, Nicolette, Nicky she mentally corrected, smiled a bit at her clearly flustered state. Crystal felt her stomach flip.

This was the first time she actually got to see Nicky in the daylight, albeit through a crusty window screen, but goddamn, she was just as beautiful as her singing voice. If not more so.

Nicky waved after a few awkward moments of the two staring at each other. Crystal waved back immediately and then mentally kicked herself for looking too eager.She’s gonna think I’m a freak.

But Nicky didn’t close her window shade in horror, she didn’t look disgusted by the mere sight of Crystal. No. What she actually did was look around her room for a moment before holding up a finger. Wait a second, she mouthed.

And Crystal found her mind supplying that she would wait much longer than that if Nicky asked her to. But she just nodded.

Nicky smiled and got up to search her room for something.

She came back a moment later with a notebook and a pen. She scribbled something down before pressing the notebook to the window.

Hi I’m Nicky

Crystal couldn’t stop the smile from spreading on her face. She pulled out one of her hundreds of sketchbooks and wrote her own message.

I’m Crystal

Nicky smiled and wrote her response.

Hi Crystal

Crystal giggled to herself.

Hi Nicky

Nicky went to write something else down, but Crystal beat her to it.

You could just open your window, you know?

Nicky grinned, but jotted down something else.

I thought this was more romantic.

Crystal couldn’t stop herself from blushing. Nicky was joking. Surely.

Crystal didn’t have time to process the possibility of Nicky not joking because the girl in question was now opening up her window.  

Crystal followed suit and tried to not look like a complete fool, evidently, the world was out to get her because the screen from her window fell lifelessly to the grass below her.

Nicky laughed.

And oh, they could hear each other now.

“I meant to do that,” Crystal tried to cover for herself.

Nicky only laughed harder. “Sure, you did.”

And oh, Nicky was definitely French. Her accent smoothly tied up in her words. It made her impossibly more fascinating.

“Hello there, neighbor.”

“Hi.”

“How you doin’ with moving in?”

Nicky sighed, “Oh, you know, I’m drowning in cardboard boxes, and I want to die, but what else is new.”

Crystal nodded, “I feel that.”

Nicky smiled softly, but averted her eyes, “I’m sorry I have not introduced myself. I’m not the best at English.”

“You’re from France, yeah?”

“What gave it away, the accent, or the good looks?” Nicky winked.

“The flag hanging up behind you.” Crystal pointed to the very evident French flag on the far wall of Nicky’s bedroom.

“Oh.”

It was Crystal’s turn to laugh.

And then abruptly stop laughing.

The sudden silence was awkward, and Crystal found herself tracing the lines of the fallen window screen on the grass.

Nicky also seemed uncomfortable by the sudden lack of sound. So uncomfortable in fact that she motioned back to her room, “Umm, I should… get back to-”

“Yeah! Yeah, me too.”

Nicky nodded. “Umm, see ya?”

“Yeah, I’ll see ya.”

Nicky smiled and went to close her window, but just before it could shut, Crystal called out, “Same time tomorrow?”

Nicky looked up at her and smiled.

“Sure.”

Crystal nodded and closed her own window as Nicky pulled her blind down.

She found herself constantly looking over to see if Nicky’s blind went up.

It didn’t.

Crystal couldn’t possibly concentrate now. Her mind replayed Nicky’s laugh like a loop in her head.

Maybe that made her crazy. To be so infatuated with a girl after knowing her for less than ten minutes.

Heidi certainly thought so.

“Girl, you sound clit-matized.”

Aiden looked up from her sculpture to look confusedly between Crystal and Heidi, “What the hell is that?”

“You know, like dickmatized, but she’s a girl? Clitmatized,” Heidi explained.

“That’s not a real thing,” Aiden said.

“Well now it is, hoe,” Heidi shot back.

“Guys!” Crystal exclaimed. “We were talking about me and my problems.”

Aiden rolled her eyes. “So what, you have a crush on her. You’re bein’ a little creepy. We’ve all been there.”

“I think it’s sweet,” Jackie chimed in.

“I think it’s creepy,” Heidi called.

“I think you should talk to the bitch more,” Aiden said.

“I think I’ll just die in a hole,” Crystal lamented, throwing her head down on her open homework.

Crystal decided that dying in a hole would be counterproductive to figuring out why she was so infatuated with Nicky. Hence, she settled for trying to finish the homework she had neglected from the previous night.

The rest of the day passed slowly. Maybe it was because she had something to look forward to. Maybe it was just that high school was boring as hell.

Crystal didn’t know.

What she did know was that as soon as she watched Heidi, Jackie, and Aiden close their front doors, she sprinted upstairs to her room.

She found Nicky had beat her to it and was staring dreamily out her own window. So she had most probably seen Crystal’s frantic running.

God, just kill me now.

Crystal put on a brave face and marched over to her window, opening it with greater care this time around so as not to dislodge the screen.

“Hey there neighbor.”

“Hey there.”

“How was your day?”

“Ugh, god, it felt like it would never end! I swear high school is such a scam.”

Nicky chuckled. “Well, what do you want to do after?”

“Realistically or in my fantasy?”

“Oh fantasy, definitely.” Nicky smiled.

Crystal smiled and felt a bit of the tension in her mind dissipate, “Well, in my French vanilla fantasy, I get into this really prestigious art school, like the Juilliard of art schools. And on my first day of class, I create this masterpiece. Better than Van Gogh.”

“Naturally,” Nicky added.

Crystal giggled and continued on, allowing herself to really ham up the details. Nicky seemed to smile more when she did. “They see my potential, and they fast track me to the big leagues. The MET, the Smithsonian. Boom. One cold day in February, that masterpiece from before is hung up. I am undercover in the crowd, observing everyone’s reactions. After a while, everyone leaves, except for one guy. He is staring at my painting with an unreadable expression. I approach him. He is crying. He is moved to tears by my masterpiece.”

“He wants to buy it?”

“Better. He’s a washed-up artist, hasn’t created in years after his wife died tragically.”

“How is that better?”

“I’m getting there!” Nicky held up her hands in surrender, and chuckled lightly. “So he’s a washed-up artist, and he loves my painting and offers to mentor me. I decline.”

“Why would you-”

“I offer to help him get back into his art. We build a friendship even though he’s a cynical old man who doesn’t laugh at my jokes. But he starts creating again. He and I open up our own gallery in New York City. And people come from all over the world to get a look at our art. But the best part is, on the opening night of our gallery, I meet his daughter.”

Nicky rolled her eyes fondly, “Let me guess, you fall in lov-”

“We fall in love.”

Nicky laughed. So hard she snorted a bit and then laughed at herself for snorting. Crystal went giggling right along with her.

“I like that world,” Nicky spoke softly. The fondness in her voice struck Crystal like a slap.

“Me too.” She smiled.

It was at that moment that everything changed. Suddenly, the tension that hung between them was gone. It was like the universe decided they had suffered from their mutual awkwardness enough. Conversation flowed smoothly from the two windows, and before either of them could blink, the sun had set.

They didn’t seem to notice, talking long into the night about anything and everything under the stars.

Nicky talked about her childhood. Growing up in France and Morocco. She had so many stories from so many different places, Crystal worried she’d never hear them all.

Maybe that’s why they stayed up so late.

Maybe Crystal worried that when the sun rose, the spell would be broken, and Nicky would go back to just being the girl that lived next to her. And not this incredibly fascinating human that seemed to be equally as fascinated with her.

Unfortunately, Crystal wasn’t superhuman, and after the third consecutive yawn, Nicky sentenced them both to some well-needed rest.

Crystal agreed, begrudgingly shutting her window and giving one last wave to her new friend.

They went on this way for the next week. Crystal rushing home to find Nicky waiting for her, window propped, a smile etched into the corners of her eyes.

Crystal swore she got more beautiful every day.

On one such afternoon, Crystal finally got the courage to ask Nicky about the night she moved in.

“Were you the one singing the other night?”

Nicky’s head shot up in surprise.“Oh, god, did I wake you up?”

“No! No!” Crystal lied. “You sounded really good,” Crystal said truthfully.

Nicky blushed at the compliment and ducked her head. “Now you are just winding me up.”

“No really!” Crystal insisted. “You sing beautifully.”

“I really don’t-”

“Wait hold up!” Crystal cut her off and made her way over to the far corner of her room. She picked up the worn down guitar and came back over to sit by the window.

“You play?”

“Not since I was ten, but it’s just like riding a bicycle, right?”

Crystal tried to play a chord and the screech from the instrument rang out like a gunshot.

“Yep, just like a bike,” Nicky teased.

Crystal fiddled around with the tuning until the noise emanating from the instrument sounded a bit more like music and a bit less like a feral animal.

She played softly, getting reacquainted with where to put her fingers and what the hell a strumming pattern was. Nicky just watched her with a soft smile and chimed in with praise and some teasing words until the afternoon sun had turned into moonlight.

They had gone so long without talking that when Crystal finally spoke, her voice cracked. She blushed, but Nicky only smiled warmly.

“Do you know Landslide?”

Nicky nodded.

“Okay, gimme a second.” Crystal grabbed her laptop and pulled up the chords, before beginning to strum lightly.

Nicky nodded along to the first few notes, humming lightly through the verse. When the chorus came, she finally started to sing.

Well, I’ve been afraid of changing

‘Cause I’ve built my life around you

Crystal couldn’t help the smile on her face. Nicky still had her accent when she sang. The fact made Crystal’s chest feel fuller than it should have.

But time makes you bolder

Even children get older

And I’m getting’ older, too

Crystal cheekily tried to chime in for the last line.

Said, I’m getting older too

Nicky looked up at her pleased. “You can sing, you can play guitar, and you are an artist? Is there anything you can’t do?”

Crystal was very close to saying something stupid like ‘I can’t stop thinking about you.’

But luckily, a voice from Nicky’s house called out before she could make a fool of herself.

“NICKY!”

Nicky sighed and turned around to yell back, “Coming, Mom!”

She shot an apologetic look to Crystal who just motioned to say ‘Go ahead. I’ll be here.’

“See you tomorrow?”

Crystal nodded. “See you tomorrow.”

But Crystal didn’t see Nicky tomorrow. Or the next day. Or the day after that.

Her blinds remained shut tight for the next week.

“Maybe she hates you.”

“Aiden!” Jackie scolded.

“What, you were both thinking it.”

Jackie shook her head and turned to face Crystal. “She could just be going through stuff. She just moved, yeah?”

Crystal nodded.

“So she’s probably unpacking still, or getting ready to start a new school. Or literally any number of things other than her hating you.” Jackie shot a glare at Aiden who held her hands up in surrender.

“Or she died.”

“Heidi!”

“Just me thinkin’ it?” Heidi looked to Aiden who shook her head. “Just me, okay.”

Crystal groaned. She had probably scared Nicky off. Probably scared her off so much she never wanted to see Crystal again. Probably scared her so much she was moving back to France.

Probably scared her so much she was… waiting by Crystal’s locker after homeroom.

“Hey there, neighbor,” Nicky smiled.

And oh god, Nicky up close was even more breathtaking. Her long blonde hair tied into the most perfect braid and her outfit was so trendy and cute and, Jesus Christ, she smelled good too.

“Sorry, I missed you the past couple of days. We went to stay with family and it was so short notice I didn’t have time to tell you.”

“You’re… oh.”

Crystal’s brain was still trying to process that Nicky was here. That she was real. And apparently going to their school. She looked to the locker Nicky was leaned up against and saw her name in cute cursive letters on the front.

“We’re… locker neighbors?”

“Yeah. I asked the principal to put me next to you.” Crystal must not have given the right response because Nicky’s face fell and she quickly started apologizing. “Oh god, I am so sorry I should have asked! I wasn’t even thinking. I don’t mean to cramp your style”

Crystal couldn’t help but laugh, “No! Nicky, Jesus, if anything you’d be helping my style.”

“What do you mean? I like your style.”

“Oh. I… Forget it.” Crystal shook her head to clear the blush from her cheeks.“You want a tour?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Crystal smiled in spite of herself and held out her arm. Nicky gave a chuckle and took it graciously.

The two frolicked about the school, under the guise of a tour. They chatted and laughed and caught up with each other’s lives.

Crystal hadn’t realized how much she had missed this. This ease between them. The way their thoughts seemed to run together like ink. It was refreshing to have someone who’s brain worked like yours.

When the bell finally rang for lunch, Crystal steered Nicky away from the mass of teenagers heading for the cafeteria, and toward the art room.

The two entered to find Jackie and Aiden already in a heated discussion about which version of A Star Is Born was better. Heidi was sitting next to Jackie just watching on in amusement.

The three of her friends did a double take when they noticed Crystal’s guest.

“Hey guys, this is our neighbor Nicky.”

“Our?” Nicky asked.

“Yeah. Heidi lives across the street from me, Jackie lives on the other side of Heidi, and Adien lives next to you.”

“Oh, well hello there neighbors.” Nicky smiled and waved.

Heidi’s eyes lit up in recognition.“Oh, is this the girl you been talkin our ear off about? The one you’re kinda in love with?” Jackie elbowed Heidi in the ribs.

Crystal’s whole body flushed crimson and she opened her mouth to respond, but Nicky beat her to it.

“Oh, so you’re in love with me?” Nicky asked teasingly.

“No! No. God, no,” Crystal lied unconvincingly.  

She looked over to her friends for backup.

Jackie caught on and tried to cover, “No, Crystal has had this insane crush on… on… on Gigi!” Crystal winced at that name. “Yeah, Gigi. Since we were little.” Jackie nodded.

Heidi clearly didn’t know what was happening as evidenced by the confused expression on her face. “Wait, I thought Crystal broke up with her-”

Crystal cut her off, raising her voice to drown out Heidi’s “Yeah, I’ve had this silly crush on this cheerleader. It’s kinda pathetic. Like just cause we grew up together doesn’t mean she would ever look at me like that.” Crystal laughed nervously.

Nicky looked unconvinced, and a little… disappointed. But the expression disappeared a second later. “Well she’s stupid if she doesn’t think you’re cute.”

“Amen,” Aiden called.

Nicky nodded and turned back to Crystal. “Anyway, enough of that sad stuff, let’s see those paintings you are always talking about.”

[meridia002-lorddiavolosconcubine]

Dizzump in the Devildom

WARNING: FECES/DEFECATION, NSFW (NO SEX, BUT UTTERLY DISGUSTING), MERIDIA HAS AN ACCIDENT

Let this be the first entry in the Devildom Diary.

My first day in the Devildom was a total ASS DISASTER. Literally. Imagine finding yourself in an unfamiliar world that lacked amenities as basic as toilets. I was horrified and embarrassed when it came time to take my first dizzump in the Devildom. On that first evening I grabbed my demon boyfriend, Mammon, and pinned him against a dark corner to ask him where the toilet was.

“A toy what?” Mammon asked as he characteristically threw up his hands in confusion.

I dumbfoundedly watched him shake his head at me as waves of impeccable white hair grazed his forehead. Why humiliate myself by explaining the concept of human defecation to this shiny, smooth entity? I waved off my question as an exhaustion-induced brain fart and  decided that it was best for me to search for a place to poop that night.

Why doesn't Hell have toilets? I searched the Internet for “demon boy anatomy,” and what I discovered didn’t comfort me. According to AkuWikia, demons lack functional buttholes. Their pink starfishes are only for anal sex and were never an original part of their evolution. The wiki article said the first king of the Devildom spent centuries watching humans procreate and fuck. He saw anal sex as unique and wanted demons to be able to do it. From that day onward, the demon king cast a spell on all his subjects that drilled perfect puckered holes in their anuses. The article made no mention of human defecation.

So there I was, my struggles to contain the doo doo within my donut hole failing me. Touching cloth is what humans call it when you’re desperately trying to keep the turtle’s head in its shell. Prairie dogging. You get it. I bemoaned my choice to wear tight-ass pants. I clenched my cheeks, my hands pushing them together to stall Mr. Hanky for as long as I could. I waddled sideways in the hallway like I had something up my ass. After all, I did.. it was threatening to break free. Why did I have to eat that burrito baby last night? Shit!

Stiffly shuffling against the wall, I opened the bathroom door. No toilets, but a pretty big bathtub. big enough to squat and drop deuce in the drain.

No! Shaking that thought from my mind, I continued searching every closet and room I had access to. Buckets? No. Where would I dump it? Asmo’s underwear drawer? Maybe. Ugh. Behind the bookshelves in the living room? Possibly. Let’s keep that as the number two choice.

I paused mid step in the hallway as my rectum clenched up in painful spasms. You know when the the shit starts coming down the pipe a bit more and holding it in causes painful cramps? That’s a sign you needed to find a toilet yesterday.

Time was running out as I was growing a monkey tail in my underwear. I needed to paint the Oval Office soon. Do I go in the bathtub and try to wash it down the drain? It seemed like the most private option. At this point, I could go outside for all the little D’s to see. What if Caveman Solo spied me dropping anchor in the grass like a dog? He’d probably like that.

I shivered at the thought of that shady fuckboi watching me shooting torpedoes on the side of the House of Lamentation. Why? Why didn’t they prepare this one little detail? Would it hurt these perfect, poopless men to install toilets for the one disgusting poop human?

My ass cheeks squeezed to the maximum when the final cramp hit me with a rumbling so loud it could’ve been Beelzebeef’s stomach. My cheeks gave out, and I went right in the seat of my pants. Staying in the bathroom, I locked the golden doorknob behind me. I dropped my pants, sticky brown separating from the cotton of my dollar store underwear. I glared at the brown curl in the seat of my panties with disgust. "I hate you," I whispered with all my vitriol.

I threw my clothing into a sagging, sad pile in the corner. I stood buck naked with my legs obscenely wide over the drain, squatting as much as my shortened Achilles’ tendons allowed. I inhaled and exhaled slowly to relax my sphincter. Warm ropes slid through my rectum like a monorail. I waited until I heard the soft plop in the drain. Sighing, I was about to stand up when another bout of the shits hit me, and this time it wasn’t as neat as the turd I just birthed. Before I could gather myself and clean my mess, a second violent episode of the shits gripped me. At this point, I was already half standing and no longer perfectly aiming over the drain. A typhoon of liquid ass viciously blasted the white tiles.

I panicked, and the more anxious I got, the worse the diarrhea became. I decided to accept the situation and let it all out.

“It will all be over with soon,” I said out loud. “And then I can clean it.”

With that being said, I pushed like a mother in labor. Pressure built inside my belly and travelled down to my colon until it exited my body in mere seconds. I became lost in the moment. I don’t know how much time passed, but it felt like the best time of life. Being so far gone in my poophoria, a moan escaped my mouth. Oh, the relief I felt in my guts! For hours I had held it inside me until the feces seemed to be sentient. It came out on its own.

My sweet moment was disrupted by a knocking at the door.

“Oi! Meridia!” Knock! Knock! “What’s going on in there? The smell is awful, and I gotta take a piss!”

Oh, fuck! Mammon’s timing couldn’t have been worse! Fuckfuckfuckfuck. I had to squeeze my cheeks together to restrain in the rest of the shitstorm while I looked around for paper towels. What was I supposed to say?

“Uh ... J-just a minute! Just taking an extra long bath!” My voice faltered.

“I gotta pee, so I’m comin’ in,” he answered. “It shouldn’t interrupt your bath!”

Goddammit!

Before I could stop him, Mammon turned the doorknob. The gold knob turned slowly, the door opened the slowest I’ve ever seen a door open. It creaked and squeaked ever so loudly, and I feared it would attract more attention. My stomach dropped again resulting in a tiny spurt of brown goo. White hair and brown skin poked through the door. First his head came through the crack like a little prairie dog. Then the crack opened wider as a RAD uniform appeared. The hands that were on the demon’s hips flew up to his nose as he gagged.

“Ack! What is that sme—” My boyfriend stopped talking as he stared at the Pollock-esque brown masterpiece I made all over the tiles.

“Meridia! What’s that comin’ outta your ass?!” He screamed.

My legs quaked with each spasm of shit I held back. It was useless. My cheeks jiggled with one final effort as a downpour of liquid brown splattered the tiles below me. Mammon was panicking, and I needed to explain this before he called his brothers for an emergency.

“Please calm down!” I begged. “I’m pooping!” My arms waved around agitatedly as I attempted to explain defecation to his confused face. “It’s a human thing. Please, just help me clean this fucking mess!”

Mammon seemed even more confused and distressed. His arms flailed all over the place in confusion. 

“What does this even mean?” His voice cracked out. “Does your shit need to ... go back inside ya ass?!” 

What? Oh, god no. I hope he doesn’t try that!

“No! Just, please don’t call attention to this!” I hissed. “I need you to bring me towels so I can clean this mess up.”

I hoped I could get through to him, because he gazed with a half-mile stare at my brown splattered masterpiece on the walls. 

“Mammon!” I snapped him out of his shock. “Get. Me. Towels!” 

“Yeah, yeah. Sure, thing.” 

Poor little guy. He sounded ill. It wasn’t long before the white-haired tsundere came back with a bunch of white towels. I palmed my face.

“White towels? Human excrement will stain those so much!” I said.

He shrugged. “I guess we’re gonna have brown towels at the end of the night.”

Taking one from the stack to wrap around my body, I was able to set about frantically mopping my midnight regret off the walls and floor. Maybe the most difficult part was scooping my mess out of the bathtub drain. I turned to Mammon and was immediately floored by the sight of the demon with his jacket off, sleeves rolled up, and shirt unbuttoned. Suddenly, for the first time in my life, I think I was freakishly turned on by the smell of shit. His body odor combined with the scent of fecal lasagna twisted something primal inside of my core. I looked down at my hand, remember that I was squeezing an ice cream scoop sized clump of doodoo in my hand. I shook my head to snap out of my arousal before my thoughts went somewhere taboo. 

I hurled the crap clog inside a garbage bag, which reminded me of the lack of a toilet. 

“So, we need to talk to Lucifer rather discreetly about installing a toilet in the house,” I reminded Mammon. “On second thought, let’s just see if Diavolo can put toilets everywhere.”

Mammon shook his head. “Why didn’t ya just say something earlier, human?” he said. “When you asked me about the toilet earlier, ya coulda just explained it to me. I think I heard something about Diavolo having putting those in RAD just for the human students.” 

I froze. “You ... What?!”

He gulped. “Uhh, yeah. How’d ya think Solomon shits?” 

My body began to shake in anger. “I hadn’t thought about it.”

He stopped when my emotions started to show. “Hey, now. I’m sorry. It just slipped our minds.” 

My jaw tensed as vengeful ideas played through my shit-addled brain. Leaning over the tub, I eyed the drain deviously as a new set of spasms wrapped my bowels in their grasp. 

“Mammon,” I eyed him sideways. “We’ve cleaned enough in here, and I need to bathe.” 

He stopped scrubbing to wipe sweat off his sexy forehead. “If ya say so. Call me if ya need me human.” 

Before he left, we made out like teenagers, my soiled hand leaving smudges in his clean, white hair.

When I was finally alone, I dropped my fluffy white, brown smudged towel on the clean tiles. Stepping inside the shower, I marveled at the freshly cleaned tub. Sad I would have to soil it again. 

Once more positioning my legs vulgarly wide over the drain, I unleashed everything. No holding back.

[virmillion]

Ibytm - T minus 53 seconds

Masterpost - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter - ao3

Words: 3,665

Logan wedges his finger in the impossibly tight space between his neck and the collar of his shirt. Is it normal to be this nervous? He’s just waiting for coffee in front of a museum. It’s not like it’s a date or anything. Of course, that negates Logan’s decision to wear a nicer tie than normal. He could always claim it was laundry day, but laundry day is Sunday, so everything is clean for the upcoming week. Not that Cadmium would know that. Would he? Is he even going to show up? Just because Logan specifically requested Cadmium as his fetch kid, that doesn’t guarantee he’ll get him. Being the creator doesn’t mean pulling every string, but it’s not like it even matters, because Logan doesn’t really care if it’s Cadmium or not, no siree, pure apathy here all the way.

He loosens his collar again, then fidgets with his tie for a few minutes. Covered in a gentle plaid of purple and blue, it’s the only pop of color he allowed himself over a dark grey shirt and khakis. Will Cadmium think Logan is trying too hard to mimic his color scheme from the park? Cadmium will probably hate it, will say Logan’s just some weird guy from a museum tour, that he’s nothing more than his little eccentricities, a light piece of entertainment and nothing more, that—

“It’s not very often that I get special requests for a personal fetch quest fulfillment, you know.” Logan sees Cadmium’s shadow before gathering the courage to meet his eyes, clearing his throat and giving his collar one last tug. “Of course, I thought it couldn’t’ve possibly been you, since I know how much you love my usual drink. Here’s your fancy pants latte with all the fix-ins.” Cadmium thrusts a styrofoam tray at Logan, angling the smaller drink for easier access. His other hand remains behind his back.

“Oh! Oh, yeah, um, right, let me just finalize the—”

Cadmium waves off Logan’s attempts to pay him back for the order. “I stole both your drinks last time, call it even.” His face flushes a soft pink as he seems to realize something. “You, um—you did get the delight one for me, right? I’d hate to just assume—”

“Yeah, no, for sure, that’s all yours. If you want it, I mean.” Logan finally takes his drink in both hands, rocking back and forth on his feet and laughing uncomfortably. Cadmium echoes the sound, looking anywhere but at Logan, who takes the opportunity to admire Cadmium’s outfit. Under the green cardigan from the first time Logan saw him, Cadmium wears a pale grey T-shirt with a pastel alien across the front, paired with skinny jeans that proudly bear no holes. Possibly a first, as far as Logan’s seen. Logan opens his mouth to say something—compliment the outfit, mention the matching shirt colors, something , but Cadmium beats him to the punch.

“Oh! I, ah, I actually did bring something. For you, I mean. If that’s okay, I mean, like, I brought it because I assumed the coffees were, well, you know, so I, um, I just, yeah, you know? I mean, here you go.” Cadmium pulls his other arm out from behind his back, revealing a single red rose in front of an even redder face. “I don’t, like, know anything specific about the color meanings of flowers or whatever, but I thought maybe, I mean, if you didn’t—”

“It’s great,” Logan interrupts, gingerly accepting the flower. “It’s really, really nice.” Cadmium huffs what Logan can only hope is a sigh of relief. “Um, shall we?” Logan gestures toward the entrance doors with his coffee hand, poking out his other elbow—far enough for Cadmium to link in his own if he were comfortable with that, close enough to himself that it could be mistaken for a casually awkward pose. Hopefully.

“Well, how about that?” a familiar voice says at the entrance. Patton scratches the back of his neck with one hand, flicking his wrist to check an imaginary watch with the other. “I never expected to see the famed Virgil here on a day that doesn’t start with ‘T,’ much less with a suitor on his arm!” Cadmium yanks his hand quickly away from the crook of Logan’s elbow, his eyes brimming with panic. Logan busies himself with looking absolutely anywhere else. “So, which of you’s paying for this little date?”

Logan trips over himself to protest how it’s not a date, but once again, Cadmium beats him to the punch, all the panic gone from his face. Or maybe Logan was only imagining it to begin with. Cadmium slips his arm back into Logan’s. “My little nerd here will be paying, as I already did him the honor of getting us drinks. Logan, pay the nice man.” Too numb to do much of anything else, Logan switches his rose to his coffee hand and passes Patton the first bill he finds in his pocket—a gently crumpled twenty.

Patton trades it for a ten and waves them in, laughing to himself. “I’m surprised at you, Virgil. I would’ve thought you’d try to argue that free admission days begin with ‘T,’ and ‘today’ starts with a T, or something like that.”

“Gotta keep ’em on their toes,” Cadmium calls over his shoulder, tugging a dumbfounded Logan inside. Once they’ve burst into the cool air conditioning of the lobby, Cadmium takes a long drink from his cup and stares at Logan. “So I guess that secret’s out, huh?”

“I’ll still call you Cadmium, if you prefer.”

“Nah, nah, it’s out, it’s too late, it’s fine. You were probably gonna find out eventually, right? Plus, I mean, it’s not like you can just walk around calling me a bone-strengthener forever.”

“That’s calcium.”

“Close enough.”

“I mean, not really close at all. Cadmium is usually found in batteries, and—”

“Close enough. Gimme that rose for a sec, would you?”

Logan hands it over and patiently waits for his feet to catch up with his mind as Cadmium—well, Virgil—walks away, fiddling with the stem of the flower. “What’re you—”

“Shh, just hold on. Walk next to me and pretend I just said something really funny.”

Albeit in a confused manner, Logan complies, bumping shoulders with Virgil. “Why did you—”

“One of your coworkers over there, from that first fetch quest at your office.” Logan tracks the angle of Virgil’s jerked chin to see Roman glancing sidelong at them. “Okay, hand out.” Virgil slips the rose—now fashioned into a thorny bracelet—over Logan’s wrist, careful to keep the sleeve between the thorns and his skin. “Here, try to look lovestruck or something.”

“I don’t—”

“Come on, we can pretend we’re on a date, it’ll be fun.” Logan (surprising no one) doesn’t know what to do, so he just stares at the rose. “It’ll screw with your coworker so bad, c’mon.” Taking Logan by the rose-adorned hand, Virgil drags him out of the lobby and into the room opposite from where they first met—well, first made eye contact, anyway, but who’s keeping track? (Logan. Logan is keeping track.) It’s probably just his imagination, but Logan can almost feel Roman’s eyes burning holes into his back.

“Alright, my dude, my guy, my home slice of pineapple and cheese,” Cadmium— Virgil , Logan reminds himself, that’s going to take some getting used to —says . “Walk me through the deeper meaning of this statue here.”

Logan adjusts his glasses, then adjusts them again. It’s admittedly weirder than he expected, being on the other side of this whole tour business. “Right, yes, um, see here, how it’s got blue coloring—”

“Paint,” Virgil corrects.

“Right, so it’s got blue paint along where the front of its teeth should be, and on the CMYK spectrum, blue—”

“Cyan.”

“Is opposite yellow, which represents the sun, and since they don’t have white or yellow on their teeth, but instead yellow’s opposite, it’s implying the absence of sun in their life, which leads to a lack of Vitamin D, the lack of which is a common catalyst for bone pain and muscle weakness. Many people break bones earlier in their life due to being more adventurous, so the artist is lamenting the loss of child-like wonder throughout adulthood by displaying the lack of it in their muse’s smile.”

Virgil rubs the flats of his knuckles along his chin, nodding slowly. “You took more leaps than I’d recommend for a first timer, but it wasn’t entirely terrible.” He angles his head across the room to where a couple of children are complaining loudly about their boredom to an unimpressed chaperone. “Let me show you how it’s done. Don’t take notes, that’s intellectual plagiarism.”

Virgil strolls to the painting just beside the one cluttered with children, folding his hands behind his back and rocking on the balls of his feet. A dumbfounded Logan follows close behind. “You know, Logan,” he says in a much louder voice than necessary, “I always knew it was the adults that were wrong.” The kids seem vaguely disinterested at best, but Virgil continues undeterred. Lots of practice, Logan supposes. “I mean, forcing them to do boring stuff like chores and homework when they have the audacity to do this kind of nonsense for fun?” The kids hardly bother to hide it as they turn to listen. However bored they might be, Virgil’s nonsense is surely more interesting than a soccer mom on her phone.

Logan loses the conversation thread almost as soon as he picks it up, but he’s pretty sure Virgil hits some objectively irrational points, including (but not limited to, because Virgil is apparently nothing if not limitless) nature, sticky glitter, scissors, trampolines, cats, a family-friendly version of a particular being in possession of three separate mammary glands from a particular sixth location with a four mile disaster zone radius, and key lime pie.

Once Virgil finally, finally, finally stops—for a breath or dramatic effect, Logan couldn’t say—he looks expectantly at the kids. Wide eyed and mouths agape, they simply stare at him, waiting for more. Virgil nudges Logan’s shoulder, gesturing vaguely at the mom that is still paying approximately zero iotas of attention. Logan, understandably bewildered and running low on improv-based creativity, crouches down to balance on the balls of his feet, levels his eyes with theirs.

“Do you know how he knows all that?” The smaller one—a girl of a slight build with braids shooting out the sides of her skull—shakes her head slowly. The boy—her brother, probably—just stares back at Logan. Logan leans in closer, willing a mischievous glint into his eyes as he lowers his voice conspiratorially. “It’s ’cause he’s from Neptune.”

The girl nudges the boy, her braids whapping against her face. “That means he’s an alien!” As his face explodes into a grin, the boy knocks his head against the woman’s leg.

“Mom, mom, that guy’s an alien! He told me so!”

“That’s very nice, Virgil. Is this your way of saying you want to see a different exhibit?” As the mom tugs the still stunned kids away, Logan straightens and glances at his companion.

“What’re the odds, huh? Heck of a coincidence.”

“No such thing as coincidences,” Virgil replies. “Just cloning experiments gone wrong.”

“That is quite possibly the most upsetting thing I’ve ever heard out of your mouth that wasn’t part of a tour.”

“How upsetting are my tours?”

“You did find a way to argue that Julius Caesar was responsible for the decrease in skittle flavored chapsticks.”

“One of my best rabbit holes, if I do say so myself.” Virgil glances back toward the lobby and shrugs off his cardigan.

“What’re you—”

“Patton and your coworker dude are both looking over here. Put this on and try to look cute.”

“Try?” Logan pretends not to feel just a little wounded by the implication that he doesn’t already look good and slips the cardigan on over his shirt. Well, he tries to—the bulky sleeves do a remarkable job of getting in the way and preventing literally any leeway past his elbows.

Virgil considers him for a moment before taking the cardigan back. “Got anything on under that shirt?”

“Yeah, an undershirt, but—”

“Sweater off. I’ll hold your bracelet. Quickly, boys, museum’s not open forever.” Logan complies, more out of fear than anything else, and wonders if anyone else has ever gone from ‘fine’ to ‘deeply uncomfortable’ in an art museum before. Mercifully, Virgil is quick as a whip in slipping the cardigan over his bare arms. Logan wonders whether it would be weird to comment on the complete lack of an outstanding smell to mark it as Virgil’s. Rather than supplement the question with evidence, he just watches as Virgil takes his discarded sweater and tugs it over his head.

“Check it out, sweater swap! Here, give me your tie, I want to play with it.” Hardly waiting for permission (which Logan would’ve given anyway), Virgil undoes the tie—a full windsor, if anyone’s curious, which Virgil isn’t and wasn’t—and fashions it into a bracelet. He holds it up to Logan’s rose bracelet and grins. “Matchy matchy?”

Logan huffs a laugh. “Matchy matchy.”

With that fascinating wardrobe change out of the way, Virgil leads Logan into the next room, asking for various opinions about various artworks as he goes. “I’m going to pretend I don’t know you stalk my tours when I tell you this, but the next room has, like, amazing lighting. There’s this pink and orange mosaic that shines on the floor where—”

True to form, Logan loses track of Virgil’s words as his attention turns to the feel of the cardigan against his skin. He only really finds his way back to the physical plane when he feels Virgil’s hand leave his arm.

“Okay,” Virgil says, “stay right there, put your hand on your hip and strike—yes! That’s it, hold it right there.” Virgil switches from framing Logan’s silhouette with his thumbs and index fingers to snapping pictures with his phone. “Look at the second to last painting on the east wall. No, the east wall—okay, that’s south, one more try—hold it! The light here is perfect , Logan, hold still! Oh, perfection.”

Logan wonders idly whether he looks as ridiculous as he feels. Probably. As he drops the pose and joins Virgil in pretending to terrorize a statue for the amusement of more children, he opens the camera on his own phone. Two can play this game, it’s just that Logan can play it better. At least, provided Virgil doesn’t know he’s playing.

At every chance he gets, Logan snaps a candid of Virgil, doing a very poor job of hiding it. Maybe Virgil’s just pretending not to notice. It doesn’t really matter, anyway, since Virgil stops basically every ten feet to demand Logan use the full potential of the environment. Where Virgil’s shots are all artsy and dramatic and well lit, Logan’s are blurry and consist largely of Virgil fidgeting with the tie wrapped around his wrist. Logan can almost see the headlines now— Bigfoot: Spotted en Route to a Job Interview at the Museum!

“Oh my goodness, you two are so cute!” a little old lady exclaims, shuffling over with a pale pink purse clutched to her chest. To Logan’s relief, she interrupts Virgil from noticing Logan taking a picture of how the filtered light washes golden dust over the sleeves of the grey sweater bunched up to his elbows. Pure luck, nothing more. “Are you on a date? Do you boys want me to take a picture for you?” Logan hides his phone as Virgil glances at him suspiciously in response to the mention of a picture being taken. Perhaps not Logan’s best move, but at least he got a good shot out of it.

“That would be wonderful, actually, thank you so much!” Virgil says, stepping beside her. “Okay, so you just press this button here, and—ope, that was a selfie, whoops! Okay, and just—yep, that’s it, and just press the white button!” The lady grins as she holds up the phone between two quivering hands, waiting for Virgil to finish fixing Logan’s sleeves. Once he’s finally content, he wraps an arm around Logan’s waist and hugs him to his side, resting his head atop Logan’s hair. They both flash bright smiles as Logan leans into the embrace, kind of surprised that he doesn’t have to fake the happy expression. The weight on his head is admittedly pretty alien, but by no means unwelcome.

“Alrighty, I think I got it! I might’ve taken too many, though,” the impromptu paparazzi says.

“Nonsense, I’m sure they’re perfect.” Virgil flutters his hands as if to shoo away the preposterous notion, chattering politely as they look through the pictures. Logan busies himself with staring at a painting to keep anyone from noticing how beet red his face is.

“How long have you two been together? It looked like you were still getting to know each other, what with all your picture taking!”

“Ha, yeah, we just met pretty recently, actually! I do tours here sometimes, mostly at a cheaper rate for high schoolers on field trips.”

The lady places a dainty hand over her lips, her eyebrows shooting up. “My word , are you the famous Ya Boi Virgil? My grandson raves about you, he swears you’re the only thing that kept him from failing his art history final!”

Virgil ducks his head, catching Logan’s eye and grinning. “Oh, please, he had it in him the whole time, I’m sure.”

The lady pats his elbow affectionately and sets her sights on Logan. “You better hold onto this boy tight, before someone else snatches him up, y’hear?”

Logan is taken aback, to say the least. “I, uh, yeah. Yes. Um, ma’am. Yes, ma’am.” Nodding like she’s satisfied that Logan can hold onto Virgil long enough to last, she gives both boys a little wave and disappears in the direction of the lobby. Logan sidles up to his companion. “Ya Boy Virgil?”

“Boi, with an I,” Virgil corrects. “‘Mister’ is too official for someone of my caliber, so I modified it to suit my standards. My job here is unofficial, so my title might as well be the same, right?”

“Yeah, speaking of which, what is your job? I mean, do you just talk at teenagers for a living, or what?”

“I don’t know, it just kinda happened out of nowhere, y’know?” Virgil moves on to the next room, still scrolling through the pictures. “I’ve been coming here ever since I was little, and I was basically a talking fixture that would history rant at anyone who would listen. The mid-higher ups just kind of unofficially brought me on board and started advertising my tours to schools, since I was already an unpaid tour guide, so I might as well have been bringing in revenue, y’know? I just do Tuesdays and Thursdays because I don’t love charging kids, but sometimes they’ll give me tips, so I get more than just fun out of it.”

Logan nods, trying to reconcile this information with how he’d been raised—attend college, get a job in a competitive field, rise through the ranks, reach the top, then quit and take half the company with you to start your own business. The real company you’d take along was literally the friends you made along the way. “Does that really net you enough to live off of?”

Virgil seems to stiffen at that, and Logan immediately wishes he were off being the only population on Neptune right now. “The fetch quests help, but I do well enough. Thanks for the assumption that I can’t keep my own life in order, though, I really love being looked at as a child. Because of course anyone without a steady nine to five job must be missing some crucial key necessary for surviving adulthood.”

“I—I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“M-mm,” Virgil interrupts, shaking his head. The seconds of silence stretch on, but Logan doesn’t dare speak again. Finally Virgil continues, “It’s fine. I’ve just had a lot of people get on my case about this stuff, and I didn’t really consider it to be first date discussion territory.” Logan nods, an almost imperceptible dip of his chin as he waits for the tension in the air to suffocate him. At Virgil’s continued silence, it becomes increasingly clear that he won’t be speaking first. Logan exhales.

“I really am sorry.”

Virgil stops walking.

“I promise you, it’s fine,” he says, turning to face Logan. “Not even a thing, as long as you don’t bring it up again. I am perfectly alright, see?” He peels his lips back from his teeth in what might be callously called a smile to prove his point.

“Okay, well, um, I’ve got a topic change for you. We’re at the end of the museum.” Logan gestures to the lobby, where Roman is still loitering. Weird. “I, uh, am I going to see you again? Er, can I?”

Virgil hesitates, then holds out his hand. Logan stares at it. “Phone?”

“Oh. Oh!” Logan unlocks his phone and hands it over, watching Virgil add himself to the contacts list—‘Cadmium,’ followed by a battery emoji.

“And to answer your question, yes, we have to see each other again.” Virgil holds up the tie looped around his wrist. “You’ve still got my headphones and that cardigan, so I’m holding your tie hostage until both items are back in my possession.” With that, Virgil spins on his heel and walks out the front door, waving to Patton as he goes. Patton barely acknowledges it, too absorbed in conversation with Roman, who’s pretending not to stare at Logan. Logan doesn’t notice, his eyes focused on how Virgil’s silhouette is imprinted in the ghost of the sunspots in his eyes.

[whatscallion]

holiday fluff challenge.

Summary: Once out and about in the stars, the Guardians are bored, which would be fine and dandy if Quill didn’t know what day it was back on his home planet. Tis the season for him to be homesick for a holiday he had fond memories of. So, after a tumultuous regalling of what Christmas entailed, the stars were painted in yuletide joy with the best patchwork family he could ask for. 

Written for @buckysbeardliness‘s holiday fluff writing challenge! Yaaaay!!

Word Count: 1,703

The stars always shone the brightest between galaxies. Amidst the vast emptiness where most saw desolation and solace, there was so much more to the cosmos than that. Colors in every shade reigned supreme in giant displays of reality’s making and unmaking. Unfathomable giants tower through the void, granting hues beyond the comprehension of what most believed to be beautiful. Against the velvet backdrop, the beauty of the universe acted as a painting of creation’s design, forever bent to the will of the wild beauty of the unknown.

With every twinkle from a far off star, the Prince of Spartax was forever reminded of his youthful days on Earth, where the same hues burned brightly against the gutters of houses or contorted into some semblance of Santa or his reindeer. There had been times before where he’d grown almost despondently homesick, but a special kind of lament overcame him around this time every year. The holidays that only he seemed to know about reminded him of the solace he’d willingly enshrouded himself with by staying away from his home planet.

More than once Peter Quill found himself wondering if other planets and races had their own traditions like Christmas, for there was nothing quite like it on Earth. He wondered- . . .

“You have been staring out the window for an hour.”

The sudden appearance of a hulking mass next to him was enough to make Quill nearly jump out of his skin. The yuletide trance he’d been in while staring out over a cluster of stars that greatly resembled Christmas lights shattered to pieces in an instant. He might’ve peed a little bit.

“Dude- Drax. How many times do we have to go over this? It’s like I need to put a bell on you or something.” It had grown increasingly difficult to have these brooding moments without interruption as of late. It might be time to take respite somewhere and stretch the crew’s legs. They could really only take so much of each other’s company in the Milano before the screeching and threatening started.

“Putting a bell on me would defeat the purpose of a surprise attack, Peter. What if I needed to sneak up on a space pirate on the ship and slit his throat? A bell would give me away.” Quill leveled his stare on the bigger alien if only for a moment.

“When has there ever been a space pirate on my ship?”

“Yesterday.”

“There was not a space pirate on my ship yesterday!”

“That’s because there was no bell on me when I killed him. Silent. Invisible.”

“Oh my god, not this again.”

The general clammer of the argument of Drax’s invisibility ( or lack thereof ) echoed through the small vessel, basically alerting everyone within that something of a storm was brewing. This only served to bring Gamora to roll her eyes and delve her attention further into sharpening her blade, Rocket to sneer and sneeze while working away on the next planet destroyer, and Groot barely looked up from his video game.

It took roughly ten minutes of arguing that Drax did not master the art of invisibility in order for the berserker to quietly assume he simply needed to work harder at his craft. It had left the patchwork team to settle around the table strewn with various parts to various machines, random bits of what was hoped to be food, and the occasional relaxed leg, as if having feet firmly planted on the ship’s floor wasn’t enough to convey how relaxed one was.

“Whats’a matter, Quill? You look chunky when yah pout.” It was naturally Rocket who’d noticed the underlying morose veil now coating Peter as they all sat there, convening out of boredom. Truth be told, Gamora had noticed, but it’d never been in her nature to say these things out loud and in the presence of others.

Before Peter could answer, Drax added his own delightful comment.

“It’s the posture,” the Destroyer said without looking up from peeling his fruit. This naturally brought about a scowl on the half-Terran’s face, allowing for a subtle change in his stature. Shoulders squared, back straight, chin raised a bit - and all it did was bring the verdant beauty across the table to glance at him with a subtle smirk. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought Gamora found great joy in others tormenting him.

“It’s not- It’s just around this time I get a little homesick.” It was an admission of vulnerability, bringing a sense of weakness with it. Rare was it that an opportunity to prey upon him was given ( purposefully ), and yet the far off jingle of sleigh bells had him lamenting over the yuletide joys of his past.

“Why?” All eyes were on the soft voice that spoke, mostly out of surprise that it’d been Gamora to take it upon herself to open a can of worms in a gentle manner. Across the table, she watched him with curiosity, half expecting this to be some kind of attempt to lead their flock astray with delusions of a planet no one else had ever gone to. It’d happened once or twice before, though she wouldn’t dare admit she had believed him for a second.

“Christmas,” he stated just as quietly. And thus, the mistake was made that he had assumed everyone knew what the holiday was.

“What,” was all Rocket could say. That was when it hit Quill that he’d have to explain this.

“It’s a holiday on Earth.” He figured that’d be enough. But he was wrong.

“There were holidays on my home planet, but I do not get sick for them,” Drax spoke, albeit somewhat pensively. There was almost always an air of constant confusion with the Destroyer.

“No, it’s just a holiday you spend with your family. I just uh, remember the times with my mom- . . .”

“Your sentiment is showing,” chuckled Rocket, earning him a harsh glare from Quill.

“Dude, it’s a nice holiday with lots of food, gifts, and just- . . .”

“Gifts? What kind of gifts? If we are going to celebrate Chrysler. . .”

“-Christmas-”

“Then I have truly given the greatest gift of all.” Leave it to Drax to be humble. Expectant eyes were on him as a smugness overtook his normally rigid features.

“I have kept you all alive. You’re welcome.”

This had naturally sparked a debate over what was to be considered “alive” and how it did not include the general well-being of those kept alive. While such a hot topic was broached upon fairly regularly ( mostly after every job they did as a team ), it still boiled down to the fact that Drax was somewhat right - they were all still alive. It may not have been Drax’s fault that they were all alive, but he could at least take partial credit for it. It’s what teams did.

It’s what family did.

Once the heat had settled somewhat ( for the fifth time that day, it felt ), the explanation began of what Christmas was without going into great depth. Peter didn’t have it in him to explain the birth of Christ and everything that entailed that particular story. Instead he mostly skimmed over the general idea of the holiday. How it was a time for togetherness, for happiness, for food, for company - all of which they generally had on that cramped ship.

Quill couldn’t have smiled more when they asked specifics about his favorite day, which led to the crew coming up with ideas on how to make the ship more festive for the season that was on another planet at the other end of the galaxy. After promptly coaxing Groot out of his room, which was a feat in itself, they’d managed to find the emergency tethers - the same that were supposed to be used if they were out in space and needed to something to grab onto in order to get back to the Milano.

In no time at all, they hung loosely from Groot’s form, and he was none too pleased about how it limited his movement. It was when it was touched on that he was allowed to play his game all he wanted, just so long as he stood there, that he seemed to get more in the holiday spirit.

“He needs a star,” Quill said as they all stood back to look at Groot, who honestly didn’t care at all that he was being ogled.

“Why?” This time, it’d been both Drax and Rocket speaking in unison. Quill might’ve glossed over why a tree needed a star at the top.

“It just makes the tree prettier- . . .”

“I am Groot,” he said in an obviously offended tone.

“I said prettier. Or what - more handsome? I don’t know how to describe a talking tree.” This had to be worth the effort, and Quill was sure of it. With a glance around the ship, they were all coming up short on what to put on his head. As it turned out, Groot had his own surprise. Atop his head, glimmering spores sprouted as a crown of flowers burst to life. It brought the shabby compartment to life with soft lighting, the lights dancing around the group much like they had on Xandar. It’d become a reminder that they had all come together as each other’s family, whether they liked it or not.

If Quill had been a lesser man, he would sniffed loudly. Rather, he let himself fall back into the nostalgia of it, the sense of the holidays engulfing him completely, settling new memories atop old. So lost was he in this newfound feeling that he barely felt the smaller hand slip into his own, bringing him to pull his gaze to the side, meeting that of rare comfort.

“Just one more thing,” he whispered, reaching into his pocket for a remote. From the speakers of the Milano, an unmistakable song came on, giving the final touch to their evening. Jackson 5′s ‘Santa Claus is Coming to Town’ couldn’t have been a better addition to the moment. 

Gamora’s smile widened, turning her head away from him so she could rest her temple against his shoulder. His grip on her hand tightened, signifying his gratitude that she was simply there, existing, living.

Thanks to Drax, who was inquiring loudly about who Sandy Claws was.

[a-writing-bear]

[AmeriPan - Permission To Date]

This is a Request fic written for @lonelymarblesoda !

Note: I am so very flattered by your sweet compliments! I hope you enjoy this fic as much as I did writing it. It was a great stress reliever for me and your prompt was very cute that I got carried away with fluff honestly <3 Sorry there’s more dialogue than intended!

Ao3 Link: 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16009922

This Has been cross-posted onto FF & Ao3 under Aliases: BearBooper

You can read this Fic on Tumblr under ‘Keep Reading’

Fandom: Hetalia Axis Powers

Pairing: America and Japan

Word Count: 2,742

Age Rating/Mature:  All Audiences :)

Prompt:  “Howdy, I'm the anon from earlier! Sorry for being shy (^^;) Since you're still taking requests, I was wondering if you were willing to do a fluffy ameripan fanfic where their relationship is revealed at a world meeting (or something along those lines)? Ψ(´▽｀)Ψ”

With an exhausted sigh and soft smile, Alfred pulled into the driveway of his Virginia home; the ignition silencing as he crossed his arms and rested his head on the now-still driving wheel, gazing upon his tall red brick house. Amused at the pristine garden and the open porch - This was another estate that his Government had preened and made proper, All the way to a point where it almost looked too perfect off a pamphlet. Unlike his apartment in New York, this house had been filled with some sort of personalisation yet Alfred still felt no completeness towards it. Alexandria was an old but beautiful charming town and it felt fitting to have his work home so close to DC. It was embarrassing to admit its old Victorian real estate made him feel much calmer compared to other parts of the city, A piece of his past residing within the restored cobbled paths.

His little thoughts drifted away as he slowly got out the car, humming to himself. It was a short drive back from work and after a long day of going over tomorrow's preparations made him gutsy and giddy. Tomorrow he'd have to fly into New York for a UN Personification meeting - undoubtedly with the expectation to make some more pesky deals and fix it what was going on with discussions of some new global catastrophes. Ah. One more look at his front door he delved into the wish he was a normal person. He wouldn't have to deal with such messes if that were the case.

However, he thought as he jammed his key into the mahogany door, there was one good thing about having a meeting tomorrow...

"Hey, I'm home!" His voice rang out loudly and through the living room doorway he heard a ruffling and a quieter voice muffled through what he assumed was a pillow.

"Welcome home.." Whenever they had a New York UN meetup, Kiku had an excuse to come over early and spend some more couple time. They weren't exactly the conventional couple who could enjoy each other's company constantly but he supposed this was enough. He wouldn't want to take Japan away from his livelihood anyway.

The blond padded his way to the living room after shedding his coat and shuffling off his boots. His smile growing wider as he finds Kiku lazing around on the comfy couch in his bright red sweats with Pochi on his chest. Plopping down onto the couch, nearly on the Japanese man's legs, He pulled Pochi off carefully. The hairy creature wriggling in his arms huffed as he released it onto the floor; Obviously, Pochi was not as excited to see him as the creature scampered off somewhere further into the house. Kiku had insisted on bringing his dog over as it would whimper without him. America Leaned down, almost tipping over to lay on his boyfriend.

"Have you been laying here all day Keeks?" locks of hairs splayed onto the shorter man's shirt as Alfred squirmed his way to lie down beside him- it was quite cramped and a miracle he didn't push Japan straight off his tiny couch.

Kiku opened his eyes, the charcoal eyes seemed to dull as he stared unamused at the man who had wormed his arms onto him. Kiku never really was that good with cuddling but he made compromises for his affectionate American lover.

"No. I did work for tomorrow and called the embassy to forward some papers back to Japan," he whispered as he craned his head over to Alfred's face. The two basked in each other’s embrace for a while as the American sneaked in a few kisses while talking about their days, Japan lamenting the lack of interesting tv shows to watch and Alfred venting about the new intern who spilt coffee in his office. Comfort hung in the air happily.

The two spent the evening packing up work papers and tapping away at tiny shiny laptops, documents astray across the bed in preparation for tomorrow. Alfred had just finished and settled under his comforter while watching Keeks still typing away, legs crossed on the blanket and brow furrowed in concentration when it hit him.

He hadn’t told any of his closest allies about his newfound relationship (well- newly established, he and Keeks had been dancing around each other for centuries). Should he be freaking out over this detail? In terms of relationship milestones, Immortals such as them had very few; living long left very little opportunities for firsts and to be honest getting a stable relationship wasn't a thing people like them did. He'd admit, he was the one who would make a deal out of these sorta events whereas Japan was more reserved of their close relationship. Alfred gulped, thinking hard whether or not it was necessary to say the words that were already spilling from his lips

"Can I tell Matthew about us?" clicking and clacking came to a halt and Kiku had looked up but still ahead, gazing at the painting opposite him hanging loosely on the wall - some Italian painting obviously gifted by Feli. America felt disappointed all of a sudden, letting out a breath he didn't realise he had captured. Maybe he should have left the topic for another day. A few seconds later Kiku had resumed typing on what looked like some new policy proposal and with absently minded disinterest had replied with so much but a passing glance.

"He already knows Al.” voice slightly airy with cocky amusement as Alfred spluttered and shifted in the shared bed. Kiku suddenly felt uncomfortable as he felt cerulean blue depths bury themselves into his back; shutting his laptop and discarding it on the bedside table he fell backwards onto the feather pillow next to his boyfriend - the word felt foreign on his tongue (A bit immature? Boyfriend sounded kiddy.). For a while, they exchanged nothing but awkward glances before Alfred caved and intertwined his palm with Kiku’s.

“You know I’m traditional. I had to ask him if he would all-”

“You asked my brother if you had permission to date me?!” Kiku’s blank face did nothing but Make Alfred laugh even harder. “Kiku. We aren’t like- we aren’t teenagers. I’m literally hundreds of years old, fuck your Millions-” the black haired man shrunk further into the bed in annoyance of his age and quickly pushed a pillow between himself and his cackling lover.

“It’s how I do things. It’s polite and you're brother was kind about it. Did he not tell you?” Alfred threw the pillow barrier towards the bottom of the bed before scooting over closer to the Japanese man, who was getting more embarrassed and flustered by the minute.

“Nah. Mattie knows when there are times I don’t need to know things. I’m surprised that’s all.” he felt breathlessly in love and voiceless with contentedness at the other nation’s admission. It felt oddly nice to be…’courted’ in such an old way. “Besides, If anything, I expected you to bring it up with old man Artie or even Francis…”

Kiku turned, puzzled expression painted prettily on his face- which was only inches away from Alfred’s. “...I’m not marrying you. Why would I ask Mr Eng-”

A pillow cut him off unexpectedly as Alfred nearly fell off the bed in complete hilarity. Kiku was about to pout and say something more. With a few attempts at explaining why there was no point to marriage due to their immortality, Kiku floundered. As he peeked over the edge of where America had fallen off, he himself broke into a small smile. Alfred’s glasses had gone askew and were currently red in the face from the overexerting giggles. As the pair quieted down for the night they felt secure; Tomorrow would be fine, for now, America just wanted a cuddle.

Alfred’s feet tapped violently as he basically bounced off each step of his creaky staircase. Bounding off into the kitchen to pack some last minutes notes he had left on a table. He shouted out impatiently:

“KEEKS COME ON! WE’VE GOT TO GET TO NEW YORK!” he was in a complete flurry as he zoomed around, enthusiastic and frantic to get to their private plane on time- his bosses would skewer him if he delayed any longer, and no doubt Japan’s embassy would be in a fit if he were late too.

Speaking of the Asian nation, the man himself with all the grace and peace in the world came down. Dressed in a western style suit, Kiku readjusted his red tie and tutted himself for his messy morning hair, stoic glance nitpicking every corner of his newly tailored clothes. At the sight of Kiku’s very neat and smart look, Alfred swooned a little, puppy eyes widening as he quickly stole a kiss - which was received with a red face and another ‘tsch’ of shyness - before pushing his cute partner out the door and practically throwing both their briefcases into the car. The plane ride was uneventful and even when the planes kissed the clouds the only view that captivated the Alfred was the silly way Kiku had tried to keep himself occupied; sudoku books were the way to go apparently.

As the other nations began to file in, one by one, Alfred appeased his boss’s anxiety by greeting them all, including old-time allies such as the NATO nations and even the newer ambassadors. Japan had been lost in the mix, both had agreed to carry on as if they had entered separately - not because they didn’t want to show off, but instead to avoid making it difficult to sort out guest arrangements. Alfred fiddled with his watch as he made his own way to the front of the table. Familiar faces filled the large room. England had already buried his desk area with paper as France somehow charmed an admin into getting him a coffee. One look at the other end and he witness Germany scribbling incessantly and the myriad of eastern Europeans personifications huddled up avoiding the Russian. Witnessing Denmark and Sweden already debating on new guidelines, Alfred gulped. It was going to be a tiring day.

Talk after talk, speech and updates floated by and although his hands were writing his notes and his voice kept him engaged in conversation, his heart had decided to tether his brain to the thought of Kiku. The beauty who was sitting on his left. Already Kiku had resigned himself to a conversation between China and South Korea and was looking adequately bored over the talk of generic ocean trade talks. Coughing as inconspicuously as possible Alfred signalled to his partner and took his hand under the table, smoothing his thumb to reassure him of the time not being wasted. Both had shuffled in the movement and although Alfred was rambling on in response to something Arthur had spoken, the ever diligent Matthew noticed such a carelessly romantic gesture. Canada had been seated on Alfred’s right, and with only a second to glance at what had occurred he snorted and rolled his eyes before nudging his brother in utter glee. He was happy his overly ambitious brother found something as calming as a relationship for his very hectic lifestyle.

Matthew whispered to his brother and bordering Ally, “Congrats Alfie, however, If you think you’re being smooth you’re- as usual- idiotic.”

“You’re just jealous Gilbert is stuck in Germany holding the fort. Anyway, when were you gonna tell me Japan asked you for permission huh?t” with a shrug and a  kick to his knee under the table the two merely laughed it off, Francis and Arthur were confused at the NA brothers sudden cheeriness. Noticing this, Kiku turned to his secret partner, squeezing his hand tight enough that Alfred nearly yipped when he went to turn to him:

“I’m not sure if your conversation with Matthew-san is appropriate right now.” Matthew gave a sheepish glance as if to say sorry but suddenly just as the 3 of them tried to get back to task Francis had enough of missing out on a joke before quizzically pushing in to ask rather loudly.

“May I know what was not appropriate? It’s rude to leave friends out of a conversation is it not?” next to him even the Englishman nodded, interested in what was going on and before Alfred could deflect he hear a subtle Japanese swear roll of Kiku’s breath and something he thought he’d never hear even within his long-ass lifetime:

“I was telling Matthew how my relationship with Alfred was not of matter as of this moment.”

The room fell into silence. America’s suit felt too tight and he was unsure if it was the nerves of so many countries falling to a standstill or if it was his heart pumping way too hard after hearing Kiku practically announce out their very private relations. In a bit of shock, Alfred had stood up hastily, but his laced hands with Kiku dragged the Japanese delegation up with him- making the situation look even more entertainingly obvious. With a loud slap on the table, Arthur pushed his chair out and stood up as well, the man had a very irked expression.

“How did you tell Matthew about this before me?!” At this point Francis had broken out into a wide mouth smile, still seated and leaned his head onto England’s hip while trying to soothe the seething British man with a couple pats on the back. The long-haired Frenchman calmed Arthur down, chattering away about the etiquette of young love and it’s failure to respect their elders. For once in his lifetime, it almost seemed like Arthur and Francis were a couple of genuine parents lamenting over a son who had eloped without any contact. They all sat down slowly and Kiku had already turned to sort out the gaping look from his Asian counterparts. The conversation ceased to exist as the situation dissolved back into the murmurs of the nations. Soon, the conference ended and as each country left with a joyful congratulatory smile over fruitful debate and strong handshakes with closed deals. Even his least friendly connections gave him a note of thanks and wishes for the best. He saw Arthur and Francis alongside Matthew gathering in one corner of the now empty room, whereas Kiku was purposely packing away at a snail’s pace, stalling till Alfred came over.

“Keeks. You didn’t….why did you do that?”

“It’s not a secret. You said you wanted me to tell your former mentors Alfred. They have a right to know.” The American squished the smaller man into a close hug and a chaste kiss on the forehead before hearing a distinct “ahem”. Shaking Kiku’s hand firmly, Arthur looked Japan up and down before smiling uncharacteristically and pulling him into a hug- catching an unaware Japan quite well. Granted he had known England for while but he never knew he would be greeted with such glee and care. France had given Kiku some good pats and a big hug before chanting some famous French proverb and singing a dilly-dallying rendition of “la vie en rose” much to England and Canada’s despair. The other NA brother merely nodded proudly at Kiku and the short man appreciated that; he had enough hugs for today honestly.

Meekly he commented, already pulled close by a bashful Alfred, “I hope this won't interfere any deals in the future, Mr England and Mr France.” but his serious tone was met with only more exhilarated kindness.

“Enough with formalities for now. Of Course not Kiku. Here we are no longer Countries but ourselves. It is not America and Japan who are together in the way Alfred and Kiku are. Don’t let work change that.” Not really understanding but still thankful for the sentiment, the couple bid the 3 other men off and hopped back onto a plane. This time it was bound for Japan, and Alfred had already packed a bag and Pochi was already running down the walkway of the plane. The 2 sat patiently together on the flight, bathing in each other’s solitude before being interrupted by Japan’s phone dinging erratically- Yao had been calling.

So much for being quiet about things, Alfred Mused as his now public boyfriend fumbled to pick up the call. He only hoped China didn’t mind that he never ask for permission to date Kiku.

Oh well.

[velannadisapproves]

Zev/Warden Week #4

Prompt: Thursday, August 3rd - AU Day

Art school AU! I rarely write AUs, but I had a lot of fun with this! Warnings: foul-mouthed, horny college kids (only mentioned dirty thoughts, nothing graphic), and though the main intended pairing is Zev/Warden, you could argue that this is implied Zevran/Alistair(/Warden) as well or at least attraction between the two, depending on how you want to read it.

-

"Alright, class, I'd like to introduce our model for the day," Professor Duncan announced as he entered the room a couple minutes late with a young man in a robe in tow.

"Model?" Alistair asked quietly, leaning away from his easel to get a good look at the stranger following their instructor.

"Yeah," Lalia replied, matching his volume and not so much as glancing up from her supplies as she finished preparing for the lesson. "Don't you ever check the syllabus? We've got a life model today."

"Does that mean-" Alistair began only to be cut off.

"This is Zevran," Duncan continued, waving a hand to present the stranger. "Since I know this is a first for several of you, I'm going to quickly go over some ground rules before setting you all loose. Zevran is here as a professional, and you will all treat him as such. Don't distract him with chit chat, don't ask him personal questions or get in his space, and I hope I shouldn't have to say no touching or photography. In short, don't be gross. Any questions?"

The classroom was silent.

"Good. We'll be going over time today; if you have places you need to be, it won't count against you, of course, but please leave quietly. We're going to spend the first fifteen minutes on a warm up pose, then cycle through three five minute poses for quick sketches, and then we'll take a short break before finishing up with a longer twenty-five minute pose." The professor looked over his students one final time before stepping away to give Zevran his full stage. "Whenever you're ready, Zevran."

Lalia looked up from her tools right as the robe hit the floor. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she found her gaze glued to him. It wasn't the young man's nakedness that gave her pause. She's known she'd be drawing a nude model; she just hadn't anticipated him being so. incredibly. attractive.  

Alistair's small, strangled noise beside her was enough to pull her attention away. 'Thank the Maker,' she thought. 'I can't believe I was gonna gawk at this dude like a fucking creep. Come on, Lal, get it together.' She turned to look to her left at Alistair and almost laughed; he was a red brighter than any paint she'd ever seen, fumbling with his pencils and pointedly avoiding looking beyond the sketchbook directly in front of him. "What's wrong, Ali?" she teased in a whisper.

"N-Nothing, I just, I wasn't, I didn't," he stuttered. He finally picked the pencil he wanted and swallowed hard. "I should have read the syllabus," he concluded, forcing his eyes to make the most furtive glance back up to the model so he could start his drawing.

She managed to condense her mirth into a single snort before turning her eyes back to the front. The model - 'Zevran's a pretty name, wonder where it's from' - had assumed a simple standing pose, one hand in his hair at his temple and the other behind his back, balancing with one foot in front of the other. Lalia scrutinized his facial features, trying to ignore the unsolicited input from her libido, and set to work.

After the first few minutes, she pulled herself back to compare her progress to the real thing and found her efforts to be lacking. Frustrated, she erased a few lines to attempt them again only to be equally disappointed. 'I can't quite capture...something about him.' Her mouth scrunched to the side as she examined her drawing, trying to pinpoint what she was getting wrong. When no solution jumped out at her from the graphite, she looked up at him again.

Her eyes roamed across his form, studying him intensely, trying to find something to help her move past her block. Sun-kissed skin and blonde hair, long lashes and full lips, even his tattoos seemed to be positioned with the exclusive purpose of accentuating his lean muscles and high cheek bones. She lingered, staring at him for a solid minute and a half before she mentally lamented, 'Shit. I just can't draw someone that hot.'

Zevran's eyes suddenly flicked to meet her gaze, and Lalia felt the blood rush to her cheeks. The corners of his mouth quirked upward almost imperceptibly, and he gave her a wink so fast she thought she might have imagined it.

"Alright," Duncan called out so abruptly that Alistair dropped his pencil and Lalia nearly fell from her stool. "That's it for the warm up. Next, the series of short poses."

Zevran shifted so that he was on the ball of one foot, extending the other leg to the side with his toes pointed and positioning his arms before his body as a dancer might. As Lalia sketched, she thought she caught him looking her way. 'Yeah right, I wish.'

After five minutes, Duncan called for Zevran to switch again. This time the model turned his back to the class and linked his hands behind his head. His face was in profile over one shoulder, and this time there was no mistaking it for her imagination when he looked right at Lalia and cracked a smile. He then glanced to her left and clearly struggled to stifle a laugh.

Lalia took a peek at Alistair and saw that her friend's hand was trembling ever so slightly, and was that sweat on his forehead? She looked away before she burst into giggles and did her best to focus on actually making marks on her own paper.

Another five minutes passed. Zevran turned back around, gave both Lalia and Alistair a not-so-subtle look, and then slowly descended into a full split. He stretched his torso down over the leg in front of him, holding his foot with visible ease. His mouth was hidden behind his arm, but Lalia could tell from his eyes that he was grinning. The combination of flexibility and flirtatious confidence had Lalia swallowing along with Alistair this time, and they both scribbled furiously until Duncan announced a five minute break.

Alistair and Lalia both put their pencils down as nonchalantly as they could and made their way out of the room, talking a little too loudly about needing to stretch and get a drink and avoiding looking at Zevran pulling his robe back on as they exited. As soon as the door closed behind them and it became clear no other students were going to follow them, they rounded on each other at the same time.

"What the fuck, dude!" Lalia was barely able to keep her voice at stage-whisper level as she gestured back toward the classroom.

"I know! I KNOW!" Alistair's voice nearly cracked.

"I mean, the splits!?"

"Look, I know you're super into it, but it seems kind of inappropriate, " he hissed, his cheeks burning.

At that moment, Duncan stepped out of the room, coffee mug in hand. Upon seeing his students' body language, he stopped short. "Is everything okay out here?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "You two having a tiff?"

"No!" they both scoffed in unison.

"Okaayyy then. I'm going to grab some coffee real quick before we get started on the final half. If you two are cool, would you mind stepping back inside and keeping an eye on things until I get back?"

"Sure thing, Professor, no problem whatsoever," Alistair responded with a nervous laugh that clearly failed to convince their instructor. Thankfully, rather than prying, the older man merely looked them over once more before continuing toward the nearest break room.

Lalia rolled her eyes. "You're about as suave as a mabari, you know that?"

"You obviously haven't spent much time with one. They can be very persuasive."

The two slipped back into the classroom as unobtrusively as possible. A couple of their classmates had engaged the model in conversation, all of them perched on stools and looking relaxed, allowing Alistair and Lalia to scurry back to their easels and pretend to prep for the second half of the class. They were saved from awkwardly shuffling their respective supplies around for a third time when Duncan reentered the room and called for the final pose.

Zevran sat on the floor, right leg bent with his foot flat and the other leg folded inward resting on the ground. He placed his right elbow on his raised knee, lazily draped his left arm across his other leg, and rested his temple on the curled knuckles of his right hand. Finally, he inclined his chin to expose his neck. He looked directly at Lalia once more, eyes narrowed and lips smirking, but this time he maintained eye contact.

Lalia tried to swallow again, but her throat was suddenly dry. Was he making fun of her? Was this something ridiculously attractive people did for kicks? Pose for drawing classes and mock weak-willed young artists who just wanted to get some- 'Andraste's chapped ass, you can think about his dick all you want as long as you're fucking drawing!'

The next few minutes were a unique sort of agony, but once Lalia finally got into a rhythm, she found herself working quickly. No longer distracting herself with frantically chasing any lewd thoughts from her mind, she let herself appreciate a man who clearly loved being appreciated. Toward the end of the class, she realized that it had been much easier to capture his likeness this time. She compared her work with the personification of sex in front of her and decided she...actually didn't hate it, which was pretty much the closest to feeling pride in her artwork that she got.

She was just finishing up the last of his tattoos when Duncan called time. "Alright, everyone, let's thank our model," he prompted, nodding in satisfaction at the chorus of thanks that followed. "That's it for today. Have a great weekend, finish your assignments that are due Monday, make good choices." With that, he began packing up just as hastily as everyone else and was the first out of the room.

Alistair leaned over to look at her sketchbook. "Hey, Lali, that's really good," he said, honest admiration in his tone.

Lalia gave his work a look as well. "Hey, Ali, no offense, but did you give up halfway through?"

Rubbing the back of his neck, Alistair muttered, "We made eye contact once, and I couldn't risk it again."

"Wanna know my secret?" Lalia murmured softly. "I gave in and let the sexy thoughts guide my hand." She waggled her fingers in front of his face.

"An excellent way of life," an unfamiliar voice commented beside them, and they both jumped. Zevran had somehow gotten entirely too close without either of them noticing. He'd slipped back into his robe but hadn't bothered to secure it closed, and he gave them a broad smile as their eyes trailed downward only to snap immediately back up to his face. "May I see?"

The two blushing artists shuffled back a step to give him room. Zevran hummed his approval of Lalia's efforts. "Yes, all of those long looks clearly paid off," he teased. Without waiting for a reply, he turned to Alistair's. "You, on the other hand, should listen to your friend. If you're in need of more sexy thoughts material, perhaps we could arrange a private session?"

Alistair stammered incoherently and looked like he wanted very badly to melt into the floor.

"Or not," Zevran shrugged. He turned back to Lalia with that disarming smile at full force. "May I see your pencil? There is one little detail I'd like to add, if you don't mind."

Lalia handed over the requested tool, and, when Zevran turned his back to her to scribble something on her paper, shot Alistair a confused look which mirrored his own. She whipped her gaze back to Zevran as he turned around and returned her pencil.

"It's hard to get a pretty artist's name when she doesn't sign her work," the model observed smoothly.

The artist in question somehow managed to compose her features into a flirty expression that rivaled the model's. "I'm Lalia," she replied. "It was a pleasure working with you today."

Zevran smiled. "Here's hoping I can provide more pleasure soon." He winked at her, gave Alistair one last smile, and then turned to leave, adjusting his robe as he walked away.

Once the door had closed behind him, Lalia exhaled sharply.

"Oooh, Zevran, it was a pleasure working with you," Alistair mocked in a falsetto.

"Oooh, Zevran, I can't answer you because I'm too busy hiding my boner," Lalia retorted, her voice a childish whine.

"Hey!"

Lalia suddenly remembered Zevran's request and leaned over to examine her sketchbook. She looked her drawing over twice but couldn't find anything added or altered. Then she noticed some markings in the lower corner and looked closer. It was a phone number and a note inside a little heart.

Call me! -Zev

Outside the heart, the message was continued in parenthesis.

(And feel free to pass on my number if your friend changes his mind.)

Lalia couldn't help the grin that split her face. She pointed it out to Alistair, but she was already too busy trying to decide how soon would be too soon to call to try to understand her friend's exasperated sputtering.

[laurabelle2930]

Summer House ~ Chapter 2: Memories

Hi everyone! I’m just stunned and truly blown away by the sweet words of encouragement for this story! It’s very different from my normal style so the kind outpouring of support means the world to me! Thank you and, without further ado here’s chapter 2!

Read it here or on AO3

Chapter Two: Memories

The rain along her dingy windows was enough to muddle anyone’s thoughts but, usually the rain helped focus her...tonight however the rain wasn’t providing its usual soothing balm. The alarm on her phone buzzed, her eyes flickered over the display before her fingers landed over the answer icon. Moments later her beige colored walls were painted with the bright hues of Sara’s cheery if not slightly drunken voice. “Oh Lissy let me tell you about my day!”

Felicity glanced at the battered clock near the edge of her desk that subsequently was edged along the wall right beneath the flimsy, plastic window sill. “Sara don’t you have an article to finish?” she lectured when the flashing red lights suddenly changed to 2:38 am.

“Yeah, yeah but, seriously you’ll never believe who I ran into tonight!” she nearly squawked like a crow as it tries to steal a stale crumb of bread.

Felicity’s forehead fell over her bent knuckles, “Who the freaking Queen of England?” she mused while Sara prattled away.

“No, but she’s about to be the new Queen of Starling City!”

Felicity’s head inched upwards slowly, “And how is my former boyfriend and his soon to be wife?” she spat with exhaustion instead of venom.

“Well she’s sporting a rock the size of the Eiffel Tower and he’s sporting a brand new rolex so I’d say they’re both doing rather well,” Sara confided before her voice dropped an octave, “but that’s not why I’m calling my amazing friend. I’m calling because while I was eavesdropping I overheard them tell a reporter that they’re going to announce their engagement at the Summer house in five days!” Felicity’s face immediately paled when Sara added, “Isn’t that amazing! That will be the perfect way to wrap up your story!”  

Felicity groaned, “Yeah perfect,” before her forehead fell over her knuckles once more.

“Ummm Lissy you don’t sound thrilled,” she noted with slurred words.

“It’s just complicated that’s all,” Felicity grumbled knowingly.

“Why? Are you still worried about Tommy finding out about you and Oliver?” came her next brilliant if not drunken remark.

Felicity balked at her stab of painful clarity, “Sara it’s way too late to have that conversation right now.

Sara of course simply prattled on, “Yeah, yeah it’s always either too early or late for you LIssy.”

Felicity giggled at the absurdity of the statement, “Sarbear there’s nothing to tell I was his tutor in highschool, he tried to kiss me on a dare I’m sure and, because I didn’t let him he told Tommy I did! He broke us up and, guess what karma works because he lost everything anyways,” she finally lamented once her own fogged mind had begun to clear.

“Yeah I’m not talking about that,” Sara commented. “I’m referring to the night you spent together about three years ago….”

Felicity gulped, “How drunk was I when I mentioned that?”

She heard Sara grin through the phone, “Oh you were a goner but, honestly are you afraid of that night becoming public knowledge or what?”

Felicity grumbled, “Of course I am you ninny. We had sex, I admitted I was in love with him and, by the next morning he was already back together with Laurel! I’m sorry but for most people that would be a hard event to recover from!”

Sara’s drunken silence could only mean one thing….she’d already begun to veer down another path. She heard the loud, thrashing sounds of screaming words and jumbled breaths as Sara’s own labored breathing danced along her eardrums. Felicity waited patiently knowing she’d eventually deliver another slurred line of pointless dialogue. Felicity didn’t have to wait long…

“Well then what is it? You can’t possibly be worried about the voicemail he left the night he disappeared can you? I mean it was pointless,” she breathed unevenly into the phone.   

Felicity didn’t even bother to groan before moaning loudly, “Again as we now know Tommy was sleeping with Laurel so I don’t think some drunken message would mean much at this point.”

“Okay so then why aren’t you happy?” she finally asked. “Why aren’t you beaming from ear to ear with joy? I mean if you’re not worried about the lost night coming to light then what’s got you feeling so down?”  

Felicity felt her brow furrow over her knuckles, “Because…” she felt herself pause. If she told Sara about Moira’s suspicions she knew Sara would be downtown by 8am with flyers about government corruption.

“Umm Lissy? You still there” Sara uttered when her pause grew into seemingly endless minutes.

Felicity coughed, “Yeah sorry I was just saying I’m not happy because the idea of Tommy with Laurel still makes me feel a bit nauseated,” she lied hoping that her bloodhound of a best friend would let the subject die.

“Well that makes sense,” Sara agreed as the music around her grew louder. “Well you’re killing my buzz so I’ll see you sometime in the next week?” she asked as the beat began to make Felicity’s body buzz.

“Yeah I’ll cover with Maude,” she agreed before the line went dead. She chuckled at Sara’s lack of phone etiquette as she slowly lifted her weary head. The clock now read 3am, the rain outside was still hammering along the dingy glass, and her blank screen still seemed to taunt her endlessly. She huffed loudly, “Why can’t I just write the stupid fluff piece and move on with my life?”

Her small apartment building creaked, the shadows along her wall grew as she glanced around the small but still comfortable space. She wept with exhaustion, “Why did he have to mean something to me?” Her walls creaked but in the end no answer ever came. She dragged her fingers along her aching temples and closed her blurred eyes. Her glasses felt crooked over her slim features as she let out a deep sigh…”Why can’t I let it go….”

10 years prior....

The class ended and, the bell chimed like a death rattle as the zombie like student body moved out from behind their small prisons and towards the cool air of the crowded hallway. Felicity usually was the odd student who didn’t clamor for the hallways, she instead yearned for the bell to simply remain silent while, her endless need for knowledge grew. A fellow student tapped her shoulder lifelessly. She shifted in her seat and glanced over her glasses at the red eyed soul. He grinned absurdly as he pressed the crumpled up paper into her waiting palm. He winked and, and giggled, “Have fun bookworm…”

Felicity eyed him cautiously then asked slowly as if she were speaking to a young child, “Are you currently on any illegal medications or were you just born strange?”

Curtis wiped his running nose with the back of his hand as he attempted to slide away from his desk. “Take your pick bookworm,” he muttered once he managed to maneuver his stomach away from the sharp edge of the desk.

She rolled her crystal, baby blues and groaned while Oliver Queen’s little lap dog wandered off in anticipation of his next assignment. She glanced at the crumpled note before throwing it aside and leaving the now empty classroom.

She’d barely managed to step through the door’s threshold before a strong pair of arms had her caged between the wall and his chiseled chest.

Once the shock wore off and she realized who had her trapped, she managed to roll her usually soft eyes into a stern glare. At first she thought quietly she was dreaming. Yes she was dreaming that’s why her boyfriend’s brother had her trapped along the back of some dingy wall with his elbows by her ears. That’s why he was flashing her those stupid fuck me grins while she stood braced against the wall with a look of sarcasm and anger. Oliver was taller than her adorable dark haired boyfriend. He stood at 6’1 or 6’2 while Tommy was exactly 6’0. His towering height intimated her as he kept her caged between his two very well chiseled arms.

“Did you get my note?” he asserted quietly once the halls had all but emptied out.

Felicity’s glare grew, “Yes your lapdog delivered it,” she sneered as the space around them grew tense.

“And?” he asked liked she’d actually read the mentioned note.  

She glared then asserted carefully while also dodging his question entirely, “You do realize that pulling someone into a corner and then trapping them is not acceptable behavior right?”

Oliver’s blue eyes would make a lesbian feel faint, “I told you I need a tutor and, well Tommy and Laurel being around would complicate matters,” he tried to explain with fumbled words.

“You need a what?” she asserted with confusion dripping off  her clearly affected tone.

He smiled at her honestly, “Didn’t read it did you?”

She slowly shook her head, “No…”

His eyes danced as he confessed, “As I told you in the note I’m failing Calculus and, I need a tutor…”

“So let me get this straight…” she balked while he leveled her with a shockingly sincere stare. “You the amazing Oliver Queen is asking for my help?” He inched closer and slowly began to place his hand over the sides of her face. Felicity let him knowing he had an angle.

His cocky grin made her stomach burn, the twinkle in his endless blue eyes made her ire rise as he slowly trailed his fingers down the sides of her face. “Come on Felicity do it for Tommy....” he begged with his index finger resting along her jawbone. “The only way I’m going to college is with a scholarship and if I don’t get at least a C in Calculus then coach is going to kick me off the team.”

Felicity again balked, “You honestly think you could survive in college?”

His head fell almost on top of her forehead, his lips were close enough so they gently brushed the bridge of her nose when he spoke, “Are you going to help me or not?”

She shielded her chest by folding her arms. She felt small and exposed within the cage of his over muscled body. He smelled of cedar and linen while Tommy always smelled of vanilla and oddly enough lilac, his blue eyes made her body tingle while Tommy’s alway made her feel warm. She croaked nervously as his fingers trembled along her heated skin, “Aren’t you ashamed to be seen in public with someone like me?” she asked in order to defuse the odd tension between them.

His forehead finally slightly touched hers, “Maybe but, who says anyone has to know.”

She inched further into the corner of the wall, “You aren’t suggesting the summer house are you?” she growled with the meekness of a caged mouse.

He chuckled deeply, “Well yeah. It’s private and, best of all I won’t have to dodge cheating rumors so…”

She repeated, “So…”

“Are you going to help me?” he begged as their foreheads touched.

She groaned in discomfort, “And it’s only until you can get a C right?”

He nodded along her skin as she shivered, “I can chose the days and times?” she demanded instead of asking.

“Yes Felicity you can chose the dates and times,” he agreed comfortably.

She huffed, “Fine but one last question.”

He chuckled lightly, “And that would be?”

“Why do you have me pressed against a wall with your forehead resting over mine?” she seethed in irritation.

His lips brushed the tip of her nose in friendship, “Because we’re actually friends outside of this hell hole even though you won’t admit it…” he breathed as his arms fell slowly back down to his sides.

“No we were before you got a girlfriend and I formed boobs. After that our friendship ended and this weird relationship was formed…” she corrected as she slipped along the wall and back towards the line of lockers.

He reached for her elbow and pulled her back by a few steps. She let him still her movements as she swiftly turned her head. His soft lips and kind eyes made her heart pound awkwardly, “So can we start today?” he asked quietly.

Felicity lowered her eyes and tilted her head, “You’re driving…” she offered as a response before she gently tugged her elbow away from his touch.

“I’ll see you at three Felicity,” he agreed right as the bell for the end of period rang.

She let out a quick, “Fine,” then darted down the still empty hall. She left him standing there with a baffled grin and surprisingly a shaken heart.

Present Day....

The memory passed as the news alert on her phone buzzed. She glanced at the flickering screen and swallowed an internal snarl.

-Tommy Queen to announce engagement to Laurel Lance where their storybook romance began…

Felicity snorted, “Yeah storybook my ass. She was screwing him while dating his brother…” She glared at the rest of the rubbish story before flicking her phone towards the edge of the desk. She again let her mind wander back to ten years prior when another relationship was beginning to bloom…

Ten years prior…

The male ego was always something that fascinated her; even now as she sat in the passenger seat of Oliver’s brand new Porsche she wondered what made the male ego tick? She squirmed a bit in the seat while her mind continued to burn through endless scenarios. Her driver asked dryly, “Penny for your thoughts madam?”

Despite her usual feelings Felicity found the comment charming and, even a bit disarming. “I was just wondering what makes the male ego work,” she replied quickly before her brain could send out a signal flare telling her to shut the hell up.

He coughed uncomfortably, “Well you don’t pull any punches do you?”

Felicity shrugged and shifted her eyes to the passing flora along the side of the mostly dirt road. “Well it baffles me. I mean Tommy has a BMW and you have this hot little number. He’s dating a nerd and you’re dating the future Prom Queen so it makes me wonder....”

“What’s he getting out of the deal?” Oliver guessed without hesitation.

She glanced at him sheepishly, “Well yeah,” she admitted just as quietly. “He’s one of you and, I’m some poor girl from the wrong side of the tracks who what got lucky when some handsome boy looked her way?”

Olivers fingers flexed over the leather bound steering wheel. Felicity watched nervously while he carefully weighed his words. His jaw tensed each time he let out a small sigh. She knotted her fingers until they were blue while she watched his entire form tense, “Do you want honesty?” he finally asked with a timid edge to his muted tone.

She carefully considered her options. Oliver wasn’t her enemy but, he also wasn’t a friend. Sure they’d been close as children what with her father being the head of his father’s IT department. They’d been playing together since they could all crawl but when the boys met Laurel all those years of shared friendship flew out the window. He became distant and almost cold once he’d won the girl with the hollow eyes and the striking profile. She’d soon moved on and eventually began growing closer to the heartbroken Tommy. Now as they shared the cab of this incredibly fast if not cramped car she silently pondered did he regret ruining the friendship they’d once shared. “I’ll take honesty,” she ventured carefully, “but only if you answer one personal question first.”

Oliver tapped his fingers along the rim of the steering wheel as the main drive finally came into view. Her bag fell over her feet when he took the curve too sharply, she grabbed at the center consul to steady her seated form while he muttered, “Sorry and sure whatcha got?”

She leaned back into her seat then breathed deeply, “Well was it Laurel?”

He shot her a confused look with those dreamy blue eyes, “Ummm Lissy I realize that as children I could read your mind but, umm those days are long gone so…”

She giggled despite herself, “Is Laurel the reason that we sorta hate eachother?” she explained with flushing skin.

Oliver made the slight left and then curved again to the right, Felicity glanced out the windshield and, smiled brightly when a small group hummingbirds moved easily through the many trees along the property line. “She’s demanding, harsh and, at times impossible but, she’s also the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he started to explain as the peak of the home’s chimney came into view.

Felicity nodded in resignation, “It’s okay Oliver you don’t have to explain…”

He let the car slow as his hand slipped off the steering wheel. Felicity nearly jumped when his fingers brushed over her knuckles. His words came out fast, confused and even a bit jumbled, “She’s beautiful Felicity but that’s all she is if that makes sense. She’s not funny, she hates my jokes, can’t stand my sister and, well…”

Felicity blushed, “She’s impossible but, because she’s beautiful you don’t care,” she finished for him as the car came to stop.

Oliver shifted in his seat then placed both his hands over her joined hands. “Look I know what I am okay? I know that she’s the best I can do and I’ve accepted that.”

Felicity’s blush grew even redder, even his skin seemed redder when he used his words to push them away from what would be an honest conversation. “Look how about we call this what it is okay? I can’t tell you what Tommy see’s in you and it would be dishonest of me to try. I needed help and you were kind enough to offer it when I sorta cornered you in the hallway deal?”

Felicity mulled over his suggestion then glanced at the hummingbird family one more time. The way their colorful wings fluttered through the sky made her yearn for simplicity. “Agreed but, Oliver?”

His thumb skirted over her knuckles, “Yeah Lissy?”

“Only my friends call my Lissy, my students call me Felicity got it?”

He smiled ruefully then slowly withdrew his hands, “Okay Felicity…” he verbally agreed before shifting back into his seat.

Felicity smiled when the engine revved. They might not be the best of friends but, at least now she knew they were she stood.

Present Day…

The memory ended when the sky roared angrily with loud claps of endless thunder. Felicity’s eyes flew upwards towards the top of the windows edge, the lightning split the sky, the rain cascaded downwards over the flickering streetlamps below. The way the rain fell sharply over the aging glass pushed Felicity back through her frazzled mind towards another memory that still to this day made her think she deserved more…

Ten Years Prior…

The first month of tutoring went quickly. The first session was filled with tight smiles and on his part a lot of confused grunts. She suggested they approach this like a football game using terms he was used to using in his everyday life. Oliver agreed quickly and, noted with gruff edges that she seemed to understand how his mind worked. She’d given him a sly wink and called it woman’s intuition.

The second month was much like the first. They met after school near the football field parking lot. She climbed in once she’d done a double take of the land around her. She searched for any prying eyes or any prying eyes with a digital lens attached to them. Once she was sure the shadows around her were simply trees she would open the door and climb in. The car was always cool but, not frigid like one would expect given Oliver’s outward demeanor. They exchanged the normal greetings; she would say hey how was your day? He would always reply fine and how was yours? They stuck to three main topics once the formal greetings were over. The first topic was always are you grasping the material? He would always grumble a bit before admitting he in fact was. She then moved towards the next topic which was almost identical to the first. She then would reach into her bag and pull out a small stapled packet, he would eye the papers while she quickly went over the lesson plan for the afternoon. Their last topic was always the veiled one, sometimes he would talk about Thea and, sometimes she would talk about her own family. The conversation would last mere seconds but it always made something in her spine tingle.

Usually they studied in the actual study but, today for some odd reason Oliver had opted for the family room that was lined with about ten large windows. She’d insisted they have a proper table so he’d dragged the coffee table closer to the couch. She was on one end with her feet tapping over the ornate rug below their feet. He was on the other with his palms covering his bobbing knees. Felicity tapped the tip of her pencil along the first line of drawn out equations. “Now per our lesson last week what does this symbol stand for?” she began to instruct per their usual routine.

Oliver grumbled but answered easily, “It’s the unknown variable and the equation is meant to annoy me since we covered that in our first lesson.”

Felicity winked at him slyly, “Just making sure you’re paying attention…”

“Or you’re just wondering if the dumb jock might be more than it seemed,” he joked with ease.

Felicity twirled the pencil between her thumb and index finger slowly, she cocked her head and jabbed her chin toward the packet beneath his history book, “Not to extend this little arrangement of ours but I do have one small question…”

Oliver seemed to follow her twinkling blue eyes to the packet of notes beneath his world history book. He shrugged noncommittally, “The packets work…” he grumbled.

She shook her head slowly, the edge of the eraser was placed along her jaw when she muttered lowly, “Why are you still surprising me?”

“Why are you still so easily surprised?” he volleyed quietly before she tapped her finger over the three equations near the bottom of the page.

Clearing her throat and avoiding a true moment of emotional intimacy she almost rasped, “So ummm well what do these three equations mean?”

His furrowed brows made her spine straighten, his focused eyes made her stomach knot and her jaw clench. His fingers grazed over her soft pencil strokes, his tongue darted over his pursed lips, his arms were like coiled snakes that were ready to snap once their prey was in sight. She grazed her fingers over his knuckles and whispered gently, “Just remember what I told you the equations are meant to help you not hinder you.”

“Yeah easy for you to say,” he mumbled tightly when the answer continued to evade him.

She leaned back into the frame of the aging black leather couch and rubbed her fingers over her upper arms. He continued to trace along her scribbles until his forehead finally fell to his knuckles in frustration. She remained silent knowing he’d eventually give her a reason to smile ruefully.

Oliver finally after minutes of tortured silence threw the book with the packet towards the back wall with the force of an angered football player. She of course covered her curved lips with the back of her hand when the absurd thought flashed through her mind. Oliver’s slanted, angered eyes flew to her smiling eyes in annoyed amusement. “I just busted the drywall of some antique wall and you’re actually laughing at me?”

Felicity chuckled at his comment dryly, “Oh you breaking the drywall wasn’t funny.”

“Then what the hell was?” he grunted angrily.

She debated for a moment. Toying with him while enjoyable also seemed a bit too close to flirting so she caved and murmured in the kindest tone possible, “I was just thinking that you threw the book like an angry football player.”

It was then that the weather outside began to shift… His twinkling eyes burned with humor while her’s shimmered with a moment of pure enjoyment. The shutters along the aging windows rattled like leaves as they fell off the trees in the dead of autumn. The thunder boomed all around the aging house, Felicity felt the tremor of the house’s walls rattling through her still ageless bones. Oliver’s soft voice seemed to float through the air as the lightning split the sky around them. “Do you wanna head back early?”

She glanced over his shoulder and surveyed the curtains of falling rain, “This place has a storm celler doesn’t it?” she decided to ask when the thunder rattled the foundation of the house once more.

Oliver’s shoulders slumped inwardly as his chin dipped to his chest, “Yeah I think it’s actually in the other section,” he replied a bit too somberly.

Felicity’s eyes shot to his defeated form, the rain changed to hail as the wind swept through the trees with violent intentions in mind. “Oliver is that the section that’s not connected to the main house?” she queried nervously.

All he needed to do was peer upward for her to know the answer was yes. Felicity muttered a bit too timidly, “Well that’s hail and, if I’m right then we might need to seek shelter in a windowless room…”

Oliver groaned, “The coat closet is big enough for two…”

Her eyes darted directly to the floor, her fingers seemed to knot around her arms, “Yeah if we’re connected from head to freaking toe,” she managed to squeak between the rumbles of thunder.

He agreed tightly, “I’m not thrilled either but, it’s either that or some interesting cuts if the glass all around us shatters.”

She shook with annoyance and, for once it wasn’t with him. She shot him a nervous glance just as he dared to shoot her one of his own. It was blue on blue, the both of them simply stared at eachother endlessly until their chest’s began to rise in sync. She babbled first when the glass began to splinter, “I’ll keep my back against your chest so our lips don’t you know accidently touch…”

He must have heard the glass cracking behind him because he suddenly rose while urging her backward with his outward arms, “Deal…” he managed to croak before the limb from a nearby tree came crashing through the already cracked glass.

She was unprepared to be bull rushed like one would be on a football field; so when he came forward with his outstretched arms she sort of panicked and, accidentally jumped upward landing snuggly against his broad chest. His rough fingers brushed over the skin of her waist where her shirt had ridden up as he slowly enveloped her tingling body. She slowly raked her fingers over the nape of his neck as his hands began to glide over her curved hips. The skin around her belly button felt aroused she realized with shame as she slowly slid down his chiseled abdomen. She gulped roughly as her fingers drifted to his broad shoulders, “Ummm closet?”

Oliver swallowed roughly, “Hmmm yeah ummm right behind you…”

Felicity nodded while her fingers slipped down to his elbows. He kept his palms over her waist as he began to gently guide them backward. Felicity glanced at their feet, “One, two, three…” she began to mutter beneath her breath as the storm raged around them.

“Felicity?”

Her body stilled, her throat clogged and her skin flushed when a small retched, Yeah?” passed through her shaking lips.

His head tilted, his eyes blazed and his touch burned along her excited skin when he breathed, “If we go any further the doorknob will be lodged in your spine…”

“Ohhh,” she seemed to gurgle while he lifted his palms from her waist and reached for the brass knob. His chest brushed over hers once more, the soft flannel rubbed over her white cotton tee gracefully like a ballet dancer as his chin rubbed over her forehead. Felicity stammered, “You’re making me nervous…” when she finally heard the door click.

“Same here,” he agreed almost too quickly.

His chin brushed her forehead once more when he tilted his head downward, her heart thumped loudly within her rattled chest, her spine tingled and her palms were drenched as his lips brushed over her aching temple, “I think this storm is messing with our heads…” he rasped as his bottom lip edged softly over her skin.

Felicity felt him pushing them backwards into the darkened room when she muttered roughly, “Yeah that’s completely possible…”

She felt the coldness of the darkened space enveloping them as he shielded her with his hardened form. She again traced her fingers along his upper arms until they were once more along his shoulders. He placed his palms along her waist and managed to kick the door shut with the back of his left heel. She stammered, “So the back to chest thing is out…”

He chuckled, “Yeah well I’d rather see your face if it’s all the same to you.”

She laughed uneasily as his lips brushed over her skin, “You do realize I’ll have to start liking you now right?”

His thumbs brushed over her waist in circular motions, “Somehow I think we’ll both survive,” he mused gently before the darkness not only stole their words but, also their claimed hearts.  

Present Day…

She let the memory wash over slowly like the an all day, drenching rain. Her fingers tapped along the aging keyboard slowly. Her mind was muddled but her heart was clear. Slowly and, with great apprehension she began to tap out the first few lines of her article…

Tagging: @emmaamelia95 @pleasantfanandstudent @coal000 @memcjo @lesanchea @mrsbubblelee @olicitylovemaking @miriam1779 @love2luvyyou @almondblossomme @diggo26 @rivaroma @vaelisamaza @befitandchase @pimsiepim @andjustforthismoment @anonymiss118 @thelockpickingvictorian @yet-i-remain-quiet @lexi9515 @kathrynelizabeth89 @marniforolicity @marytagus @myhauntedblacksoul @myuntetheredsoul @blondiegrl00 @independent-fics @felicity-said--yes @relativelyobsessedfangirl @i-m-a-fan-world @mel-loves-all @danski15 @green-arrows-of-karamel @malafle @emilyp05 @oliverfel4 @alemap74 @vicky-vale @charlinert @hope-for-olicity @missafairy @arrows-4ever @jaspertown @sweetzcupcake @captainolicitysbedroom @nalla-madness @smoakingarrow19 @bwangangelic @ccdimples88 @lalawo1 @ireland1733 @quiveringbunny @scu11y22 @detbensonsvu1 @tdgal1 @cinfos @xxliveyourlife @onceuponarrow @supersillyanddorky06 @wherethereismoak @olicityinmyheart @all-things-olicity @bitchwithwifi 

[askdawnandvern]

Here we are, finally the next chapter in the story. This time around, Dawn gets to know the rest of the Hunter girls a little bit better on the ride out to the fair. Also, the picture above is the chapter card for this chapter. I only tend to use these on FA and SF, because they have the option. But I figured i’d share them here as well from now on.

Check out my Patreon page and help me keep my time devoted to making stories and art instead of worrying about bills and social skills! Now with tiers with perks! https://www.patreon.com/wastedtimeee

-WT

Chapter Fifteen: The Hunter Girls

Dawn did her best to hide the blush the sneaky kiss left by her mate had caused to radiate off of her muzzle. It was utterly pointless though, judging by the warm grin she could see had curled its way up Audrey's muzzle. The older wolfess let out a wistful sigh as she leaned on her paw.

"You two are just adorable." Audrey cooed. "You are really making me hanker for my younger days, back when my husband was a bit softer and more bright eyed than he is now."

Dawn frowned slightly. "O-oh I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

The wolfess held up a paw as she chuckled. "You apologize too much Darlin', ain't yer fault I thought of that."

Audrey slowly rose to her feet. Getting out of her chair she slid it back into its place near the table. "Ya'll two are just making me miss when things were new and exciting."

Dawn could see the other members of the family at the table more or less starting to do the same. They were packing up what little remained at the table and placing their own chairs back in their settings. Dawn prepared herself to clamber down her chair, only to find Audrey offering a paw to help her. With the she-wolf's aid the ewe made it to the floor with ease, and as Dawn looked over to the small arctic fox seated across from her, she could see Vanna more or less helping her the same way.

"I told ya that Dori was a lot like Vernon when he was his age." Audrey said.

"I just don't see it." Dawn's attention drew back to Qali who was now off her seat. The arctic fox strolled over to the pair lazily. Dawn found herself starting to wonder if all foxes walked that way considering the rest of the foxes she had come to know in her life seemed to show off the same trait.

"I mean, he's seemed so grouse and cold every time I've met him." Qali continued. "I certainly don't see any of that in Trenny, or really any of the other boys." Qali stretched an arm, seemingly trying to wake herself up. "Well, maybe Yuri." She shrugged.

"Well time changes mammals." Audrey lamented as the rest of the family started to migrate toward the head of the table. "As well as the job ya pick."

Audrey shook her head briskly. "But none of ya'll probably have to worry about that, 'specially you Dawn." The she-wolf smirked. " Vernon is a bit softer than Dori, and he ain't a cop. That'll alone will probably keep that lovey dovey personality in him burning bright."

The wolfess let out another wistful sigh. "Anyway, enough trips down memory lane, we better get a move on!"

Dawn watched Xavier and Wade group up together, while Trenton was already making his way toward the kitchen.

"I'll ride in the back of the food truck. Least then I won't have to listen to Yuri talk." Trenton muttered as he made for the exit.

"Hold up." Audrey barked.

The white wolf stopped in his tracks, glancing back at his Mother curiously. Dawn watched as Audrey rifled a paw through her jean pocket for a moment, before pulling a set of keys out. Raising her paw to the air, she motioned for the other wolf to catch them before the she-wolf lobbed the keys in Trent's direction. The white wolf caught them effortlessly, without even turning his body around.

"Just bring the pick-up around for me, okay sweetie?" Audrey asked.

Trent gave a simple nod before finally making his way out of the room. With the white wolf gone, Audrey turned her attention to the other males.

"You two heading with yer Pa?" Audrey asked the other two brothers. Xavier gave a polite nod.

"While I'm not a fan of riding in the backseat of a squad car, I don't have much of a choice. It's not like Zach's going to give me the passenger seat." Wade shrugged.

"Well he is technically the Deputy of this District, I suppose it's only fair he gets that seat." Xavier added.

As the two brothers followed after the white wolf that had left before them, Dawn watched a beleaguered looking Malcolm enter the room. The red wolf wiped a paw through his sweaty mop of head fur as he swept it clear of his eyes.

"Well, I saved most of 'em Ma." Malcolm puffed. "But we lost about three plates and a mug."

"That Ulric." Audrey shook he head dismissively. "I swear that boy..." The she-wolf trailed off as she muttered inaudible curses. Dawn wasn't much of a lip reader, but the phrase 'nit headed' seemed to stick out among the she-wolfs grumblings.

Audrey suddenly turned her attention back to the remaining mammals, clapping her paws together loudly. "Alrighty, that means the rest of us are in the pick-up. Malcolm Darlin', yer riding shotgun." Audrey grinned as she patted the wolf's shoulder approvingly.

Keeping her paw on his shoulder, she began to steer the pudgy wolf toward the kitchen. With her other free arm, she waived to the rest of the girls to follow suit.

"Time's a wastin' girls! Let's get a move on."

Dawn did as she was told, dutifully following behind the clan as they moved into the kitchen. Dawn was sticking as close to Vanna as possible. Despite knowing she was more or less safe with the rest of them, the kinship she had quickly developed with the large tigress added an extra layer of security for her. Especially seeing as how once again Dawn had managed to catch another odd stare from Qali. The arctic fox tried to play it off, but it was clear despite her assurances that she held nothing against the ewe, there was still something going on with her.

As the group exited the nearby porch, Dawn could see Audrey's familiar faded pinkish truck. The golden rays of the early morning glimmered off the bits of exterior that still had some form of enamel on it creating an almost blinding effect. Dawn raised a hoof above her glasses to cut the glare, doing her best to make out the wolf already seated in the truck. Vernon's brother Trenton was easing his way out of the driver's side as the group approached, the wolf handed off the pair of keys to his Mother with a smirk.

"Here you go, no more scratches than usual." Trenton said.

"Thank ya Darlin', I'll take over from here." Audrey replied, spinning the set of keys around a finger by its chain loop. Flashing a grin to the rest of the assembled mammals, the she-wolf beckoned them with a paw.

"Alright, all aboard everyone, next stop the Harvest Festival!" The wolfess gave a hard pat to the hood of her car before clambering into the driver's side. In one swift motion she slunk into the seat and slammed the vehicle door sharply behind her.

With Audrey in the car, the group started to disperse, with Malcolm heading around to the passenger side while Vanna and Qali began their stroll toward the entrance to the truck bed. Taking her cue, Dawn scurried back up to Vanna, practically falling into lock-step as they made their way around the car. Once poised at the trunk of the vehicle, Vanna crouched to ground level, placing her paws out flat on either side of her.

"Step on up." Vanna said, motioning for the mammals to use her paws as a boost. Qali made it with little trouble, her tail swishing as she practically bounced off the tiger's paw and into the bed. Dawn took it a bit slower, steadying herself by grabbing the frame as she climbed into the back. It was a little shaky, as the ewe wasn't quite used to using Vanna as a stepping stool, but she figured that with time perhaps she could develop the confidence the little fox seemed to have when it came to what the tiger could support.

Now on board, Dawn made her way to the back of the cab, peeking over it to see across the Hunter yard.

Trenton was still near his Mother's side of the car, now leaning on the rusted frame as he made small talk.

Farther across Dawn could see a rather large moving van. It was a old, beat up looking thing, similar to Audrey's pick-up. The faded grey paint that coated the frame was peeling off, with swaths overtaken by patches of rust. It was also rather plain, lacking any kind of lettering or logos that Dawn assumed would mark the families food delivery truck. The ewe wondered if it had either worn off over time, or they had simply never placed one on it as the truck was something they probably didn't use often.

Dawn shrunk slightly as she noticed the black wolf standing by the side of the truck. His muzzle was twisted in a scowl, but thankfully his eyes weren't on her. Instead they were locked on the spotted hyena standing next to him. The large canid also bore a scowl, baring her teeth as the two seemed to be trading harsh words. Dawn watched warily as the darker wolf crossed his arms and shook his head dismissively as the hyena continued to bicker at him. Ada raised her paws up to the sky, and Dawn heard what she could only describe as a somewhat guttural snarl. But what happened next surprised her.

Dawn watched Yuri's frame slacken a bit as the hyena continued to chatter at him, and soon enough the wolf had an uneasy expression on his face. Yuri seemed to scratch the back of his head awkwardly as Ada's odd tirade seemed to come to a close. With her rant concluded, Yuri looked down and mumbled something before giving the hyena a quick kiss on the side of her muzzle. It was a shocking moment for the ewe, one that based on what she experienced in the dining room she could scarcely conceive. It had looked as if the seemingly heartless wolf had a tender moment with his mate.

It was then Ada suddenly caught Dawn's eyes, and the ewe quickly turned away to look at something else, praying the hyeness hadn't seen her. Dawn didn't exactly know if those sort of moments were something the couple kept to themselves, and the last thing Dawn wanted to do was start off with the peculiar cackling canid on the wrong hoof.

Near the corner of the house Dawn could see Dorian's police car. Wade and Xavier were leaning against it, talking to one another, although it was much too far away to pick-up any of what they were saying. But she couldn't see Vernon's Father. Placing a hoof above her eyes, the ewe squinted at the windshield, which was heavily obscured by the morning light. Despite her best efforts she could only barely perceive the outline of a mammal in the driver's seat, but that was enough to confirm for Dawn the older wolf was in there.

Dawn stumbled slightly as the pick-up truck rumbled to life, its frame shimmying as it idled in place.

"Hold on! Hold on!" Dawn turned around quickly to find Ada running up along side the parked car. Without missing a beat, the hyeness pushed herself off the edge of the frame with one arm, boosting herself up and into the bed in one swift motion. Now sitting in the truck, Ada brushed her swooping mane of hair back into its previous place.

"Can't trust old Auddy wit dat lead foot of hers." Ada chuckled. "Don't wanna get left behoind."

Glancing to the opposite side of the bed, Dawn could see that Vanna was now seated opposite Ada. The tigress let out an irritated sigh as she closed the trunk door she had clearly left open for the hyena.

'SLAM!' The sudden clatter drew Dawn's attention back to porch the family had exited from. By the time Dawn had spun her head to the source of the sound she just barely caught a glimpse of the grey and white blur that was Vernon as he stomped his way out of the house. The wolf looked absolutely furious as he stormed toward the food truck, his muzzle twisted into the sharpest, teeth grinding grimace the ewe had ever seen.

"Vernon!" Dawn's own attempt to call out was cut short by Zach's own. The reddish tipped wolf now stood in the open porch doorway, reaching out in vain toward the wolf who had sped off. The beleaguered looking wolf ran a paw through his mop of head fur, running it back over his scalp.

By then Vernon had closed the gap to the food truck, and giving one last glance back at Zach, the wolf piled into the back of it.

"Sweet sawgrass, what now?" Dawn could hear Audrey say. Looking back toward the cab, Dawn could see Trent was now leaning away from the car, a paw still clasping the door to hold him up as he stared off toward the van where Vernon had hurriedly tromped to. The white wolf scratched the back of his head.

"Zach, what'd you do?" Dawn could just barely hear Trent mumble over the engine idling.

The white wolf quickly glanced back at his Mother.

"Don't worry Ma, I'll make sure he's alright." Trenton said as he released his grip from the door. Taking a few slow steps back from the truck, the wolf seemed to noticed Dawn leaning over the edge of the cab.

"Don't worry Ms. Bellwether, I've got this." The wolf grinned sheepishly. "He'll be fine by the time we get to the fair, don't worry!"

Despite his words of assurance, the ewe felt considerably uneasy. She couldn't conceive exactly what happened to send Vernon off in such a huff, especially after the family had managed to turn his mood around so well at the end of breakfast. As Trenton jogged over to the back of the food truck the ewe found herself regretting not traveling with Vernon on the ride out. The look on his face alone made her wish she was there to comfort him, helping him through whatever had set him off so badly. With that, the ewe glanced back at Zach worriedly.

By now the wolf was slowly making his way toward his Father's squad car. His ears sagged as he stumbled in a slow backward walk toward the vehicle. He was looking toward the food truck Trenton was now making a beeline for with a mournful frown. One which only deepened as he managed to catch Dawn's gaze. The wolf's stance withered as he looked back at the ewe, heavy shame marking his features as he continued to cow from the unwanted attention. In short order, the wolf turned away from Dawn, scurrying to the passenger side of the squad car and getting in as quickly as possible. Whatever had happened, it was bad, and based on the wolf's body language, Dawn was clearly involved somehow.

The ewe couldn't leave Trent to handle Vernon. It was clear to her that she needed to be there to take care of the wolf. Perfume or not, Vernon needed the love and understanding that only she could provide. Getting to know the other girls of the Hunter brood would have to wait, Dawn needed to be on that food van.

But as Dawn turned to make her way off Audrey's truck, the vehicle lurched forward causing the ewe to stumble into a seated position. Now sitting on the floor of the moving cab, Dawn could see the other girls leaning over the sides of the truck, eyes fixed on what Dawn assumed to be the food van Vernon had disappeared into. Now that the car had begun to move, the other girls returned their focus to the truck interior.

They were now all exchanging looks of concern, eyes darting from one to another as they seemed to be searching each other for an idea on what had just happened. Then slowly, the focus of the confused and baffled stares turned to Dawn, and the expressions switched from those of concern to those of discomfort. Dawn frowned at the sudden attention, balling up a little tighter as a result. Despite not knowing the slightest bit of context as to what just happened, the situation had still managed to spread the awkwardness to the back of the cab. The ewe twiddled her hooves nervously as the mammals continued to trade unsure glances.

It was only as they rounded the corner of the driveway, hitting a bump as Audrey turned on to the dirt road back off of the farm that something finally broke the uneasy silence. As the truck coasted the bump, Ada jumped in her seat, letting out a loud barking cackle before slapping her paws over her muzzle. The hyena blushed slightly as her eyes darted between the other mammals.

"What do ya want!" She sputtered. "I get noivus during awkward silences!" Ada rubbed the back of her head as she looked down at her lap.

Qali chuckled. " It's fine Chuckles."

"Very funny squoit!" Ada crossed her paws, rolling her eyes at Qali. "Remember I could eat ya's in a single bite. So watch yerself." She laughed.

Despite the demeanor of the cab softening, Dawn was still in her own little bubble. The ewe was pondering exactly what had happened back at the ranch that had upset Vernon in such a short amount of time. Was he okay now, was Trent helping any? She wished she could be sure, that she were there right now.

"Dawn?" Dawn snapped out of her funk to find that Vanna had place a paw on her shoulder. The tigress was eyeing the ewe down in concern. Dawn struggled to fake a smile, but she couldn't manage to keep it up.

"Hey." Vanna cooed. "He'll be okay. Trust me." The tigress gave a reassuring smirk.

"Oh yeah. Trent and Vernon are tight." Qali interjected. "If he can't get Vernon out of his mood, no mammal can!" The arctic fox had now wormed her way between the two mammals, giving the pair a confident grin. Vanna looked down at Qali dully, letting out a sigh.

"Geeze snowball, you gotta stick yourself into everyting don'tcha?" Ada laughed. "Let Vanna handle it, you don't even know her yet!"

"Sorry, sorry!" Qali backed out from between the pair. "I'm being too forward again. My bad. I just wanted to help."

Dawn was now genuinely smiling.

"T-thank you, I do appreciate it." The ewe replied, earning a smile from the diminutive fox. Eagerly, almost pleadingly Qali turned the smile on Vanna. The tigress let out another sigh, but despite it she was smirking. Vanna released her grip on Dawn's shoulder, shifting herself into the seat next to the lamb as the car continued to rumble down the road. Now Dawn could see a straight shot at the road behind them, and the food truck that was now trailing them. In the driver's seat the ewe could just make out an irritated looking Yuri. He was swatting his free paw at Ulric, who seemed to be gesticulating to the wolf wildly about something.

"That poor dope." Dawn could see Ada was watching the fray in the car behind them as well. "You couldn't pay me to sit wit Ulric for more den five minutes."

"He was forced to, remember?" Qali laughed. "Not like he didn't deserve it."

Ada simply nodded. "Oh my dumb little ray o' gloom." The hyena chuckled darkly.

"So..." Vanna interjected, giving Dawn a little nudge with her elbow. "You girls wanna keep rambling on, or are you going to officially introduce yourselves to the new Hunter?"

The fox and hyena glanced at each other curiously before turning their attention back to Dawn. Ada scratched the back of her head awkwardly, wincing as she seemed to strain in an effort to pick her words carefully. While Qali leaned on her paws looking directly at Dawn. The fox seemed to have the same fixation in her stare that Dawn had caught earlier, and the ewe was about to finally ask exactly why she was doing that when Qali broke the silence for her.

"Okay, first off I have to say..." The fox trailed off as she moved in closer, causing Dawn to draw back slightly. The ewe wasn't sure exactly what the strange fox was up to and was growing uncomfortable as the mammal invaded her space. Now practically a foot away from Dawn's face, the fox's muzzle curled into a grin.

"I LOVE YOUR HAIR!" Qali yipped as she rolled back slightly, clasping her knees as she titled. Once she was sitting again, the fox adjusted her own draping coif, sweeping it away from her eye. "It's amazing!"

Dawn winced, slightly surprised and greatly confused by the fox's excitable outburst.

"T-thank you?" Dawn croaked in an uncertain tone.

"I just keep looking at it and wishing I could get mine like that!" Qali gaped as she stared at the ewe again. The look was the same as before, and it quickly became clear to Dawn that her poof had been what was drawing the fox's ogle all along.

"Is that like a wool thing or-?" The fox abruptly stopped, reaching a paw out toward Dawn's head. "Can I touch-"

Vanna's paw quickly caught the fox's before it made contact with Dawn's wool. Looking up, Dawn caught the tigress glowering down at Qali, shaking her head in disapproval.

"Seriously?" Vanna muttered.

"What!?" Qali replied, seemingly unfazed.

"You don't just touch a sheep's wool ya dunce!" Ada chimed in, leaning over so she could see the other mammals.

"Why not!?" Qali replied in a huff, paw still locked in Vanna's grip.

"I don't know, what if some stranger wanted to touch ya tail? Would youse let 'em?" Ada crossed her arms.

A look of realization came over the fox's face, her eyes opening wide. "OOOHHH!" With the sudden moment of clarity, the fox quickly pulled back out of Vanna's grip as well as Dawn's personal space. Her ears drooped as she clasped her paws over her muzzle.

"S-sorry again." Qali muttered. "I-I just really think it's cool and all."

"If you haven't picked up on it by now, Qali is kind of excitable." Vanna muttered.

"I kind of get a bit too excited and sometimes I do things without thinking, you know?" Qali mumbled.

Dawn smiled, warm thoughts of another mammal she knew that sometimes acted without thinking crossing her mind. "I-It's okay." The ewe assured.

"A-anyway. I'm Qali Pelagere. Trenny's mate, obviously." The diminutive fox reached her paw back out, this time stopping well short of Dawn's own space. The fox flashed a nervous faltering smile. "And I promise I won't touch your wool without asking from now on."

Dawn chuckled as she extended her hoof, giving the fox's paw a brisk shake.

"And I'm Ada Dabu." The hyena put a paw to her chest proudly.

"That dumb mutt Yuri is my mate." The hyeness lazily gestured a thumb toward the truck that was trailing them. "And he's a lucky to have me, because one of us has to know how ta talk to mammals for his sake."

Ada extended a large paw out Dawn's way, and the ewe tentatively took it into her hoof. The shake was surprisingly softer than she expected from a mammal that seemed to exude pure harsh edge. As Dawn released her grip, The hyeness leaned back against the side of the truck bed, allowing both her arms to rest across the siding.

One thing Dawn had noted as the two mammals introduced themselves was that unlike Vanna, the two had introduced themselves without the family last name. It was an oddity she felt the need to press upon.

"So, you didn't take Trent or Yuri's last names or-?"

"We're both still in da datin' stage." Ada said with a chuckle.

"Oh yeah." Qali bounced in her seat. "Trent and me have only been together for like a year, so were still seeing how things go."

"O-Oh..." Dawn replied.

Ada leaned her head back, looking up at the sky.

"I've been wit dat joik for about three years, but we still ain't togedda in dat way." She scoffed. "I tink he's afraid to take da plunge."

"He seems like the type to be scared of commitment." Qali added.

"Did I axe you?" Ada sneered.

"I literally just said what you said." Qali retorted, flashing the mammal a dull stare.

"If I say it dat's okay." Ada replied. "You can't say dat, he's 'MY 'mate" The hyena smirked, emphasizing the word 'mate' with corresponding air quotes.

"I'll remember that the next time you make a joke about Trent." Qali grinned smugly, giving the hyena a playful nudge. "Which should be about what, like five minutes from now?"

"Anyways..." Ada simply ignored Qali, talking over the end of her question. "What about you? You takin' Vern's name? Are ya dat serious?"

Dawn nervously fiddled her hooves, looking down at her lap as she tried to bury her building blush.

"W-well w-we talked about doing a caprid ceremony..." Dawn jerked up slightly as she recalled further. "O-Oh and an official partnership license at town hall."

"Dat serious huh?!" Ada let out a cackle as she slapped her knee. "So den, I take it yas two been talking about dat goofy 'tithing' ceremony."

Vanna sneered slightly, staring down Ada in what Dawn could only describe as indignance.

"It's not goofy." Vanna huffed.

"Whateves'" Ada waived Vanna off. "So how bout it?" The hyeness turned her attention back to Dawn. "Ya a little tith-curious?"

Dawn frowned slightly, looking down at her lap. Her and Vernon had discussed caprid marriage, that much was true. But the only discussions they had about 'tithing' had been limited to Dawn's historical probes. Granted the discussion about a wedding had only been as recent as yesterday, but 'tithing' hadn't really come up as an option. Dawn could easily assume exactly why they hadn't really talked about it. Thanks to her research she knew that sort of thing required the support of the leader of the 'pack'. Having Audrey's approval certainly helped, but it wouldn't be quite enough without Dorian. And the way things had been going so far with the older wolf, it made the possibility of such a ceremony seem far, far off.

"W-well, I t-think t-that's a bit out of reach for now." Dawn sighed. "Possibly forever really."

Ada flashed the ewe a confused frown as the whole tone of the conversation seemed to dip back into awkward silence. Looking around, the ewe could see the other females sharing similar sympathetic expressions. Not wanting to let the ride settle back into a painful silence for the rest of the journey, the ewe was quick to try to steer the conversation back into positive territory.

Dawn took a deep breath, swelling her chest with air as she smiled.

"B-but I'll be more than happy with an old fashioned sheep wedding!" Dawn chirped. "That with the partnership license will give me more than enough to be able to proudly proclaim to my friends and family that I'm Mrs. Hunter-Bellwether!" The ewe let out a pleasant sigh as she finished her bold statement.

She wasn't lying, in fact she would be happy to simply spend the rest of her days with the wolf regardless of public proof of their union. But Dawn couldn't help but wonder if the aspect of getting approval for wolf ceremony was important to Vernon. The wolf hadn't really expressed how he felt about the whole thing, merely how they were performed.

"Hunta-Bellwether huh?" Ada chuckled.

"W-well we haven't sorted that out yet." Dawn stuttered slighty, twiddling her hooves again. "Vernon wants me to keep my last name in, but I don't really want to."

"Aw that's so romantic." Qali sighed. "To want to keep your name in there, now that's adorable!"

Dawn blushed slightly.

"I wouldn't worries about old greyfur." Ada said. The hyena had resumed leaning against the wall of the bed, her arms outstretched and hanging over the edges on either side. "Pop Hunta is pretty lax when it comes ta his boys choice in mates, so he'd probably okay a 'tithing' ting, even if youse are 'prey'."

Dawn looked at Ada in confusion. The fact that she had described Dorian as being 'lax' was mystifying. Was she describing the same mammal Dawn had met at dinner the previous night, because it certainly didn't sound like it. The ewe was about to open her mouth when she noticed Qali sharing the same baffled look that she had.

"Wait, what?' Qali chirped, scratching her head. "This is old Mam' Hunter were talking about, right?"

Ada simply nodded.

"Lax?" Dawn added.

"What?" Ada replied, now donning her own look of confusion.

"I wouldn't exactly describe Mr. Hunter as 'lax' Chuckles." Qali shook her head briskly. "More like, um...like..." The diminutive fox scratched her chin, clearly struggling to find the right word.

"Severe." Dawn interjected.

Qali gave a affirmative nod. "What she said."

Ada let out a barking laugh. "You two are yankin' me." The spotted hound slapped her knee. "Sure Old Mam' Hunter can be a little stern, but he's a big softy."

Dawn's let out a slight gasp, but was quick to stifle it. 'Softy' was another word she hadn't expected to be associated with the dour, angry wolf. It certainly didn't describe her experiences with him at all. But at the very least Dawn could see she still wasn't alone in this. Qali was now eyeing Ada suspiciously, her eyelids drooping in what one could only describe as annoyance mixed with disbelief. Ada in turn began to look uneasy, and it didn't take long for a nervous cackle to escape her maw. The hyena clasped her jaw shut.

"Is this another one of your dumb pranks?" Qali asked.

"Well, I mean he said if I eva wanted to do the 'tithing' thing wit Yuri I had his blessing." Ada shrugged. "I mean, maybe dat's because he's worried if I won't do it no one will." Ada flashed an awkward smile.

"I don't under-"

"No, it's sort of true." Vanna cut in.

Dawn looked up at the tigress in surprise. Vanna let out a long sigh before gesturing over to Qali.

"Qali, when did you first meet Dorian?" Vanna asked.

The fox scratched her muzzle as she seemed to ponder the question.

"Maybe like, two months ago?" Qali muttered. "Yeah, it was right after his graduation. Trent and me waited a while before taking the whole 'meet the parents' step. Well his anyway."

Vanna turned her attention over to Ada, gesturing at the large canid.

"And when was the last time you were out to visit Ada?' Vanna asked.

"Pfft..." Ada shrugged. "Your 'tithing' thing two years ago." The hyeness let out a sigh.

The tigress placed her paws on her knees, letting out another sigh as she glanced down at Dawn.

"Dorian has always been kind of stern, and stubborn. But...well..." The tigress sighed. "The last few months he's been a little harsher than normal."

Vanna turned away from Dawn slightly, staring off into a passing field of stalks of grain. The slight breeze was causing waves to shimmer across the surface of the canes.

"According to Mom he was even more easy going years ago." Vanna continued. "I mean she's told you as much." Vanna briefly glanced back at the ewe, and Dawn nodded affirmatively.

"But more recently he's been kind of reclusive..." Vanna said. "and colder." She added with a mutter.

Ada scratched the back of her head, wincing as she seemed to process the new information.

"So what's eatin' Pop?" The hyeness asked.

Vanna shrugged. "I don't really know." She replied. "He won't acknowledge it, not even Mrs. Hunter can get it out of him."

Dawn felt a strange mixture of emotions. She was confused, concerned, and yet some how found this information slightly relieving. After Dorian had blown up at the dinner table the previous evening, the ewe knew the wolf certainly held who Dawn was against her. But Dorian hadn't known about Vernon and her relationship until a little less than two weeks ago. Certainly it wouldn't have been possible for her to have caused Dorian's change in behavior before he had even known she was coming. That possibility managed to give the ewe a sliver of hope that it might be easier to turn the wolf's opinion of her around than she first thought. He might have even called her out at the table simply because something else was plaguing him, and he simply had directed his anger at the ewe. Of course, Dawn knew the chances of that were slim, but it was still something to work with.

"Eh, he'll get over it eventually." Ada waived the tigress off before stabbing a thumb toward the van behind them. Returning her attention to the drivers, Dawn could now see that Yuri was grinding Ulric's face into the dashboard with a free paw. The ewe couldn't help but cringe.

"If he's anyting like his dumb son, even at his angriest it'll blow over like a savannah squall." The hyeness chuckled.

"A-and if not?' Dawn mumbled.

Ada grinned widely, giving Dawn a good look at her incisors.

"Den we'll have to help him get ova it." She laughed. "We'll get dat old fart to be beggin ya to 'tithe' to his pup in no time."

Dawn let out a slight gasp, surprised at the hounds sudden kind declaration.

"Y-you mean that?' Dawn stammered.

Ada gave a brisk nod. "Vanna says your a Hunta, den your a Hunta."

"Yup, yup!" Qali added.

"You's may not 'officially' be a part of dare pack, but yours a part of ours. Us Hunta goils gotta stick tegetha'." Ada flashed another wide grin.

"She's right Dawn." Vanna added, smiling down at the ewe. Dawn could feel tears beginning to well up as a smile crawled across her muzzle. "We look after our own. And we'll do what we can to help."

Dawn lifted her glasses up, aggressively wiping her eyes in an attempt to hide the now steadily flowing tears. But it was little use, as Ada picked up on it right away.

"Hey now, stop wit da water woiks, or I'm gonna start calling you drips!" Ada let out a laugh.

Dawn sniffled hard, laughs cutting through her sobs as she tried to compose herself.

"S-sorry." Dawn choked. "I just, I-..." Dawn shook her head softly.

"Thank you, thank you all so much." The ewe stammered, giving a final snort as she sucked back the last of her tears.

"Dat doze remind me doh, now dat you are a Hunta goil, you do need a nickname." Ada grinned.

"Oh no..." Dawn glanced back up at Vanna. By now her head was in her paw, and she was shaking it back and forth slightly.

"I-I do?" Dawn asked curiously.

"Of course! We all have one!" Qali chirped happily.

"No we don't." Vanna replied.

Ada let out another barking cackle. "Oh please, you know youse love it when I callz ya 'Kit Kat'.

The tigress sneered in annoyance as she crossed her arms.

"I never agreed to that!" Vanna retorted.

"O'course you didn't, ya don't get ta pick your own!" Ada chuckled.

"I'm 'Snowball'." Qali interjected. "And she's 'Chuckles'." Qali added, stabbing a claw in Ada's direction.

The hyena sneered slightly. "Yeah, see. I don't like dat one, but it's what stuck."

"S-so what are you gonna c-call me?" Dawn twiddled her hooves nervously, silently praying whatever they came up with wasn't a complete embarrassment.

"Hmm..." Ada scratched her chin thoughtfully. "Howa bout...'Woolly'?"

Dawn couldn't hide her cringing at the awful name, which only drew a mischievous smile from Ada.

"No, no, no." Qali cut in. "That sounds way too much like a name for a ram."

"'Woolz'?" Ada replied, raising an eyebrow at the tiny fox.

"How about 'Mutton'?" Qali asked.

"No." Now Vanna had stepped in. "Vernon calls her something like that, it's probably best you stay away from pet name territory."

The fact that Vanna was getting into it now cause Dawn to gulp. As the mammals continued to argue Dawn found herself quickly becoming more and more unsure of exactly what she was getting herself into. But at the very least the ewe managed to take some solace in the fact not only had she been embraced by all the females in the Hunter family, but that her chances of earning Dorian's acceptance might be better than she thought. Despite how poorly the morning had started out, and the dismal outcome of the previous days dinner, the lamb was actually starting to recover a bit of the hope she had lost. And with the help of her new 'sisters', she was certain her chances of changing Mr. hunter's opinion of her were even better.

"You can't call her 'Dags'!" Vanna hissed. "That's sheep for 'dung'."

Dawn was drawn out of her thoughts by the argument that seemed to be escalating.

"I still say 'Woolz' is good." Ada barked.

"What about 'Gims'?" Qali chirped.

The mammals continued to bicker wildly, throwing around a variety of sheep slang and summarily shooting them down. Dawn let out a sigh, shaking her head in disbelief. Maybe they would be able to help, if they could stop arguing over nickname first.

[girlwithasoapbox]

this is the story of a girl

"I am not what happened to me, I am what I choose to become." – C.G. Jung

...

Once upon a time, there was a little white vase sitting in a workshop, waiting for its maker to paint it with all the bright colors of life.

Once upon a time, there was a little vase who was smashed into a thousand pieces…

Once upon a time, there was a girl…

…

You’re eight years old, and Mom brings home her new boyfriend. He smiles and say how nice it is to finally meet you, you’re all that Mom ever talks about. It’s summer, and the flowers are in bloom, but there is ice in your stomach and a chill running down your spine. You should say something, but you just want Mom to be happy, so you smile and say it’s nice to meet him too.

It’s the first real lie you ever tell.

…

You’re nine years old, and he’s practically moved in. He’s there in the mornings when you try to get out of eating breakfast, (because who actually likes toast?), and he’s there when you get home from school. Forget watching afternoon cartoons while you do your homework, you’re upstairs in your room as quickly as possible and shutting the door behind you.

You lose yourself in math calculations, and tales of far-away places until it’s time for tea.

…

You’re ten years old, and you’re struggling at school. You don’t understand the work, or rather, you understand the hard stuff, but not the basics.

(One day you’ll understand that your brain just works differently from other people, but right now all you want is to pass your science class.)

Your grades are slipping, and Mom is too busy to help you; it’s not her fault. He doesn’t understand what the big deal is, he tells you that you’re stupid and says that you’re letting Mom down.

Since when was it any of his business, he’s not your father.

…

You’re eleven-years-old, enrolled in a new school… you’re so far from home, living in a dormitory with three other girls, but you don’t tell them your secrets and they don’t tell you theirs.

Some days are good days, when He smiles and you laugh, and you actually get along. But he is selfish, and so are you – you both want all of Mom’s time. It’s only natural that there would be dissent between the two of you. It doesn’t make his behavior right though. It doesn’t make it okay for you to be scared. You drive yourself half-mad trying to smile and pretend that everything is okay.

Soon you start to struggle to tell the difference between your dreams and your waking moments – which is real, which isn’t? There are voices in your head, in the hallways, in the shadows. Why won’t they stop? Half a sheet of painkillers gone before something clicks in your brain. You make them come back up, tears running down your cheeks as you hang over a toilet in the girl’s bathroom. Then you flush the rest so you can’t do it again, and wash your face to hide your tears. That night you curl up under your quilt and cry yourself to sleep.

A few days later, you phone home and beg until Mom says you can come home.

You don’t tell her about that night. You don’t tell anybody.

…

You’re twelve years old, and you’re beyond relieved that the dreams have stopped. You know what’s real now. You’re still afraid to speak too loudly in your own home, but you’re stubborn and so you do it anyway. Puberty hits, that horrid twisting pain in your abdomen and you don’t understand at first. It makes you sluggish, makes you slow, and when you aren’t fast enough for His liking in the morning, he hits you. Hard. This is the first time he’s left a mark that somebody else can see. It stings, yes, but it fades and you’re still there. You consider that a victory.

Your best friend betrays you, and it hurts. You’re too young to know that girl isn’t like the women you will eventually trust to follow you to the end of the earth. Friends come and go at that age. You find a new best friend. She’s wild, untamed, and far too aware for her own good. She knows how He treats you is wrong. She tells you this, and you laugh. It’s not so bad, you say. You both know that’s a lie.

Eventually you snap. One day He hits you hard enough to send you crashing to the floor. The stone floor. Over a piece of toast. Who does that? You’re not even five feet tall. Looking back, you’re furious. It’s pathetic. It’s cowardly. It’s not right. But in that moment, you’re too busy trying to convince yourself that you’re not afraid. That’s a lie. He’s a lot stronger than you are. I don’t have to put up with this, you tell him stubbornly, tilting up your chin in defiance, I have other people I can live with. He laughs in your face and dares you to leave. He tells you that you aren’t wanted. It’s cruel.

Your best friend phones Child Services. It’s the first fight you ever have, you’re furious. She’s trying to help, but all you can think of is that you don’t want to be taken away from Mom.

You’re not sure how much longer you can take this, especially now that his ring sits on Mom’s finger. It’s strange how a band of gold looks rather like a restraint. But then you know he’s got the wool pulled over her eyes good and proper. You can’t bear to break her heart, so you leave instead.

…

You’re thirteen years old, and yet another story of abuse is on the television.

[You’ve moved in with Dad, wave Mom goodbye with a smile. It’s perfectly normal for you to want to live with your Dad after so many years with her, that’s what you tell people. But inside you’re just so relieved to be away from Him.]

Your friends frown, and they list a dozen ways that the person could get out of there. You smile (by now you’re so used to putting on a mask that the line is beginning to blur) agree with them and spend half an hour coming up with two more ideas. It’s just one of those lifetime movies, just another story.

You don’t tell your friends to stop. You don’t tell them that real life isn’t that simple.

You’re too busy trying to tell yourself to calm down, that you’re not a statistic, you’re not like the people in the film. So you change the channel and put on a Disney movie instead. Life is so much easier when you can pretend that the good guys always win.

…

You’re fourteen, and you see Mom for winter vacation. He’s there too, but you make the best of it, pretend everything is okay. You’re good at pretending now. Too good.

You almost make it through the whole week without a fuss. Almost. You still wind up in a one-sided shouting match over something ridiculous. You don’t even really remember what it was about.

And he still manages to get a few good barbs in before they leave. Cold words that cut into your skin like rusted wire, leaving a raging infection in their wake.

He doesn’t have to hit you to hurt you. You know that now, and what’s worse is that he knows it too.

…

You’re fifteen and introducing your boyfriend for the first time.

Inside your head you’re pleading to a higher power, praying that he won’t notice the tense line of your shoulders, the tautness of the tendons in your neck, the frozen crinkle of your eyes. You don’t want him to know, don’t want anyone to know.

For the first time, you finish the day without a fight. You’re still in shock the next morning, and you spend the next week waiting for the other shoe to drop. It never does, and you don’t sleep for a week.

When did a peaceful vacation become your idea of the twilight zone?

What does that say about your life?

Far more than it ever should. This is wrong and you know it.

…

Fear turns to anger not long after you turn sixteen.

You’re past denial and pleading with yourself. You’re past being a scared little child. Who the hell is He to dare command you. Who is He to bring you pain. Who is He to cause you sorrow.

You are a Queen in your own right, and you bow to no man.

But you do bend in order to keep the peace.  And that burns.

You can play the waiting game though; you can be patient. This is the kind of anger that will keep and keep. Patience is a virtue, and you’ve been playing at this for a very long time now.

…

You’re seventeen when He trips up.

Oh gods, does he screw up.

And then the truth comes tumbling down.

Freedom. It tastes so sweet. But it’s bitter too.

Mom knows the truth now, and she won’t stop apologizing.

She’s hurting because you were hurt, and that just makes it worse. You can’t bear to see her cry, and so you bite back the bitter retort. You swallow the scream building in your throat. Suddenly you sort-of hate her too. She’s supposed to know you better than anybody else in the world, so how in the nine realms did she miss this? It’s not like you’re the world���s best actress.

Rationally, you know that people are good at seeing what they want to see, and you tell yourself it isn’t her fault. It really isn’t. But you’re damaged now. Damaged and twisted, and broken and bent. Like a warped wire coil, you might never regain your original shape.

Breathe, you tell yourself. In, and out. In, and out. Clear your mind.

You smile at Mom, and yet again, you lie.

Will this ever end?

…

You’re eighteen, and your hackles go up whenever somebody tells you to do something. It’s not that they want help that bothers you, it’s the command. It’s the expectation that you’ll do what they want, without even considering you might be busy. It’s the echo. It’s the overlay of His voice.

Eighteen years old in body, but part of your mind is still nine years old and smiling for somebody else.

He’s got no say in your life, but his shadow is long.

You’re still angry, raging, a dangerous fire is simmering inside you. Occasionally you lament the lack of access to his morning coffee, but you tamp down on the mental image of him choking on aconite or something else nasty and worthy of a jail sentence.

He’s not worth it, you tell yourself. Forget. Let it go.

How did that line from Labyrinth go? You have no power over me.

…

You’re nineteen when you realize forgiveness has nothing to do with the person being forgiven. It’s about the person doing the forgiving accepting what happened, and letting go. About making the choice to lay the past to rest and move on.

But a part of you is too stubborn to let go. You’re still angry with him.

What’s worse is how angry you are with yourself.

The rage turns inwards, and the anxiety attacks begin again.

…

There is no real logic when you’re recovering.

You spin through cycles too quickly to learn where you stand. Up and down, up and down. Just when you think you’ll be okay, another wave tumbles down over your head and the tide yanks your feet out from beneath you.

Just twenty years old now. Twenty years old, and your peers have got it all figured out. They’re at university, bettering themselves, and you… You’re just trying to keep your head above the water.

It’s exhausting, and you’re so tired.

But you keep on paddling, keep your head above water.

Even if you can’t figure everything out, you can at least make sure you don’t drown.

…

Twenty-one years old, and you’re finally moving on.

Stable work-week, class in the evenings, you write to clear your mind. Even better – people like what you write. It’s a talent. He doesn’t even cross your mind these days. It’s not worth the effort. Mentions of His name come up in casual conversation, and they’re just that: casual.

You’re learning to stand in the sun, and the weight on your shoulders feels lighter every day.

An entire life ahead of you, why should you dwell on the past.

The past defines us, but it doesn’t control us.

There is no shame in what happened. You know that now.

You’ve stopped letting society tell you how to feel.

It’s okay to hurt. It’s okay to be afraid. It’s okay to let go.

…

You are twenty-two years old now, a woman grown.

You take the bus to work, because you like having that time to think. You drink hot chocolate and fold warm laundry on rainy days, when water streams down the window. You smile when you see people in the street and you walk with a spring in your step.

You still babble when your nervous, but you’ve gotten good at pretending it’s just you being friendly. You still flinch when somebody shouts your name through the house. You still feel threatened by men who are taller than you.

These things may never change.

…

You’ve had six years of freedom, but these things take decades to fix.

…

Once upon a time there was a shattered vase lying in pieces upon the floor.

Until somebody picked up the pieces.

Somebody put them back together. Somebody sanded down the glue, and somebody painted it with beautiful colors. Somebody set it on the windowsill, and somebody filled it with flowers.

When people walk past that window, they remark on what a wonderful piece of art it is. The cracks are invisible in the daylight; the scars are hidden from view. In the dark of the night, when it hits just the right angle, the soft moonbeams light up the marks that nobody sees.

They are hidden, but they are still there. They will always be there.

…

Once upon a time, there was a girl… and you will always wonder if you’ve walked past her on the street.