#// they have Sal in their sights and will not let him go until the sun catches up to them

[sanctified-sanctuary]

Valentine lets out their own pleased hum, giving Salvatore a good and proper once over, not bothering to hide it as their eyes comb his person head to toe and back once more. 〝Though you may share a fate and, as you say, a face- I don't think there is a single reasonable soul out there that would be able to confuse your presence for another's. You've an air about you, an energy in how you carry yourself, I've seen very few with it and none with quite the ease you hold yourself.〞

A small smile spreads across their face, their eyes wrinkling slightly as they speak an almost whisper soft tone. 〝No, there would be- could be no mistaking you for another regardless of how similar you may appear at a glance. Wouldn't you agree Eve?〞 The trance Valya has caught themself in breaking as they remember their uncharacteristically quiet shadow.

While the two creatures have been speaking business, Evangeline slipped away to a far corner of the dilapidated warehouse and returned unseen with two large furs in hand. A large sleek white one, surely her own based on her present dress, and a slightly shorter taupe coat with long vertical stripes of dark brown and greys and a textured pattern to the fibers. 〝Surely not, anyone worth their salt would be able to spot the good doctor from leagues away without a moment's hesitation.〞

Valya nods in both a motion of agreeance and direction, silently asking her to place their fur on the table since they have no desire to don it yet. 〝Population control? As much as the offer sounds appealing I promise you I am more than capable of such a thing, I can't say if I would find much pleasure in a deal with someone of her calling if what you say is true. I would certainly be remiss to pass over the opportunity to speak with you at greater lengths however, it could turn out to be a great partnership if you wish it.〞

And how they wish he would, since Sal first made himself known there's been a tug from Valentine's very core pulling them to him, their urge to know- to understand- being stoked to incredible heights. The way he speaks, the timbre of his voice, his posture and musculature, and his eyes above all else- combined it is drawing upon the core of Valya's being in ways they have only experienced in dreams and it is their driving intent to know everything there is to uncover about Salvatore.

〝You spoke of limiting yourself of our indulgences, perhaps we could persuade you to join us one night- your lands or ours. I see no need to limit our dealings to strict formalities. We have all the time in the world after all.〞 Eve chiming in again, an open invitation to join them on the hunt, somewhat unusual though not unheard of. While some choose to see hunting as a solitary activity, for others of a more social disposition it can be quite the bonding experience provided none in attendance mind sharing.

❝ well if that is the case , i suppose my clients can tend to their wounds without my assistance . ❞ a hand pushes through his hair , an idle action — far more relaxed and unguarded than he might've seemed before . ❝ i understand the sentiment . it is not often i allow myself to indulge , but , ah . medical work has it's advantages . no one ever really notices a few litres missing when you're in a position of care . ❞

it is somewhat of a dark statement , and whether he means he bites those who are too far gone to react to treatment or whether he took blood from donation banks wasn't clear . though , perhaps this is enough to express salvatore's cunning ; and the greys of his moral .

his eyes flit to the side at valya's next question , a pinch to the eye that suggests an unpleasant feeling . ❝ yes . . . i suppose i was quite fortunate . i merely wished to let you know in advance — lest there be any confusion . he and i are reflections of one another ; we share the same face and fate , so to speak . ❞ then , salvatore smiles , the pinch vanishing . whether or not he felt pleased about his predicament is not clear either , though perhaps with time this information would come to light . ❝ though i still find it quite amusing when he is addressed as though he were myself . ❞

a nod of understanding follows next , and salvatore hums , musing . ❝ an ally in thought . . . ah , well . you will not find that in her . though if you're ever in need of population . . . control , i can attempt to put a good word in for you . ❞ though he recognises the olive branch , and metaphorically does he decide to grasp it . ❝ myself , however ? i could certainly try to offer my thoughts should it please you . i'll admit with the little company i keep , it is difficult not to be tempted by your request . ❞

[bidisasterevankinard]

Wip Wednesday

do I have the stage where I start new wips but barely write the one's I have because I'm super indecisive and not inspired? yes. let's hope soon I will be fine and work on my wips I want to work on. Anyway meet new wip where bucktommy will have long angst in their relationship because Tommy needs to grief "what ifs" with Sal he never thought about till he sees Sal as Captain of 118 (it's an au where Sal is a captain instead of Gerass)(it's only the start of the fic btw)

thanks to nonny @racerchix21 and this song (the title taken from the song and it's "I tried to go on like I never knew you"

Tommy knows it all should be in the past. In stolen kisses in bars they knew Gerrard and the team would never come too. In usually passionate and wild - almost never tender and sweet - sex. In secrets they shared under sheets, when they both knew that the moment their fabric cover was gone they couldn't talk about those moments of comfort and vulnerability they shared. In breakfast’s Sal made for him and his nonna's lasagna recipe Tommy cooked for the man. In wild dreams Tommy knew could never be a reality. Especially not when Sal changed stations and firstly their meetups were less and less frequent until they stopped after Sal’s wedding. 

And Tommy swears he thought he was over it. Over Sal. Over dreams of the future they could never share. But one look at the man whose appearance barely changed since Tommy last saw him five years ago, staying near 118 trucks the same way he always did, while talking with Chim, and all that got back at him. All the memories of stolen love and painful hope to be happy, proud and loved. Preferably by his “best friend”. By the one of the best men he ever met even if they could be rough with each other or rude or just wrong. Sal always came back with sorry, that Tommy knew was genuine. They were so wrong together, but also so wrongly perfect. So electric. Sal made him feel how almost no one could. Only his first crush Eric from the army, Sal and …

“Hey, handsome, sorry for the delay, Hen needed help to choose a present for Karen,” Evan kissed his cheeks, smiling like thousands of suns.

If Tommy didn’t know and was pretty acquainted with Evan’s quirks and little signs of his fatigue, he would never think the man just ended his 48 hour shift.

“It’s fine, baby.”

Tommy smiles and he hopes his inner turmoil of seeing an old friend is not shown on his face.

“Have you met my new captain yet?”

“No, but I don’t need to.”

Evan adorably tits his head and Tommy wants his heart to be so fast only because of it and the taste of Evan’s lip balm on his cheek, but he swears he can feel the taste of liquor he and Sal were drinking last time they kissed. Right before Sal asked Jennifer out on their first date.

“I worked with Sal. Even more than Chim and Hen,” Tommy says and Evan for a second frowns and then hits his face.

“And they were no less inseparable as you and Eddie,” Chim says, with the loud sound of gum bubbles breaking.

Tommy doesn’t know when he and Sal got closer to them, but he would really happy if they never see that Tommy was there at all. 

“God, of course. In my defense it was so long ago I just haven’t even thought that all three of you were a team.”

“Yeah, I left the station almost a decade ago and it feels like it was in another life, so it’s fine, Buck.” 

Sal smiles at his boyfriend and Tommy wants to make as much room between them as possible. Maybe it will help him to to separate all these feelings of worry and anxiety and love and confusion from the sight of the man he had loved for years, but had never had the opportunity to own his love completely for himself, never feeling that Sal had given him his heart, and a man who he knows is step away from get into his own chest and rip out his heart with all the vessels and give it to Tommy if he just says the word. Sal would never do it even if Tommy would beg

I was tagged by @tizniz @cal-daisies-and-briars @diazheartsbuckley @diazsdimples

Tagging @wikiangela @neverevan @hippolotamus @watchyourbuck @evnnkinard @evansboyfriend @evanbegins @evanbi-ckley @repressedqueen @rogerzsteven @racerchix21 @eddiebabygirldiaz @theotherbuckley @pirrusstuff @saybiwithme @steadfastsaturnsrings @devirnis @giddyupbuck @honestlydarkprincess @kinard-buckley @loveyouanyway @lonelychicago @bigfootsmom @bekkachaos @bi-buckrights @bewilderedbuckley @monsterrae1 and anyone who wants to

[hearts4golbach]

Zombified. (Larry Johnson x Fem!Reader.)

part 2

co-written by @cupid-isgone

it's been ages since I'd last seen the group! Seeing the three work together so smoothly... they were different. but somehow the same, as well. sal laughed when he saw who I was and doubled down on Larry, taking care of me.

as if I needed 'taking care of'.'

I glared at Larry, immediately hating every second of what just happened. he has sold me skunk weed countless times until I cussed him out, resulting in me being shoved into a locker. we had fought every day until graduation. I rolled my eyes. "I can take care of myself. I don't need Larry, thank you very much."

"As if! you can't even stand right now on your own." Larry smirked at me.

sal clapped his hands once. "Great, so you agree to help her until she's better, right?"

"I did NOT say that."

"Glad we agree. now, we all need to head somewhere safer. this city is overrun by zombies by now. but there should be a forest nearby."

"Yeah, i don't really want to become a human happy meal." I smiled, ignoring Larry's rude manner.

I began to stand by myself before falling on my ass.

"for fucks sake, Larry, just help the poor girl." sally rolled his eyes.

Larry grunted as he lifted me to my feet and adjusted, moving my arm around his shoulders and his around my waist. I could feel my face heat up with embarrassment.

by now, my arm had been put into a makeshift sling, and the pain was easier to ignore.

"Let's just get going." I didn't want to deal with Larry's standoffish behavior, but at least he was cute.

his muscular arms flexed as they wrapped tighter around me. my face was still hot, but with more than embarrassment.

"okay, look, if we get through the forest we will come across a different town. the further south we get, the less there are. there should also be a stable amount of supplies." sal cleared his throat, pulling up a map.

"You know that's just a rumor? they same the same thing about here." I mention.

Todd piped up from where he was standing. "it's the best we can hope for right now. if there's even a small chance, we have to take it."

"he's right, and we should leave now before the hoard circles back around." sal said.

Larry and I nodded, and we set off. ignoring the fact that I could barely move, the trek started out easy enough.

"By the way, sal, the hoard was already here and almost killed Y/n."

sal rolled his eyes. "You know they're  fucking everywhere, right?"

we began our March towards the woodlan, which was more or less an awkward hobble for me.

the forest was quiet at first, but then the sun started setting. there weren't any in sight, but we could hear some zombies. we had to find somewhere to stay soon. it was barely a few minutes later that we saw a small building.

"the fuck is this? Larry asked, cautiously opening the door.

"a fucking shed, you idiot. what does it look like?" I retorted.

"It looks like this is camp tonight." sal groaned, placing his sleeping bag as close to the wall as he could so that there was room for all of us.

"You've gotta be shitting my dick." Larry grumbled, setting up out sleeping bags next to Todd's.

my sleeping bag was against the other wall, but I had to be turned towards Larry to avoid putting pressure on my bad arm.

"What are you looking at?" he whispered, not wanting to wake anyone up.

"You." I replied bluntly. I was having trouble sleeping, but I wasn't going to tell HIM that.

"You're so weird." Larry closed his eyes.

"Why did you turn to look at me?" I looked away from him and began working on my snapped bandages.

Larry's eyes flickered open to look at me once more. "Let me help."

"I'm fine." I attempted to argue, but he ignored me. his soft hands gently caressed my arm, sending goosebumps around my whole body. I looked up at him, admiration forming as I watched his concentrated face. "...thanks." I shivered as a cold wind passed through the run-down shack. Larry, without even looking up, pulled me closer. he hummed a vague acknowledgment, but otherwise said nothing. I exhaled slowlythroughh my nose. "weirdo." I teased.

"shut the fuck up dude, I'm cold too." I rolled my eyes at him. I looked down at my tattered jacket. Larry seemed to sense my worry and sat up.

"Where are you going?" I questioned him. he didn't answer as he reached into his backpack and brought out a black hoodie that said 'Sanitys Fall' on the front.

"I was keeping this for memories, but I guess you need it more." he whispered, tossing it to me before laying back down and pulling me close once more.

the hoodie smelled vaguely of cologne. it was neatly folded so it would fit as small as it could in his bag. I closed my eyes and exhaled the musk.

we were just laying down, looking at each other.

it was like Larry was trying to look into my soul and pull me apart, like he was trying to figure something out.

I shifted the best I could without agrivating my injuries. "stop looking at me like that."

"like what?"

like I was a particularly tough puzzle, like I was somebody he wanted to know.

"like a loser."

"I look like a loser? I'm not the one with a broken arm." he held a proud smirk on his face.

"yeah, you do." I frowned.

"flip that frown upside down, babe. there's no need to be sad." he chuckled, pinching my cheek.

I slapped his hand away. "get your crusty hands off of me." I mumbled.

"awe, someone is a little moody."

I huffed. "anyone would be moody if they were stuck with you for too long."

"you sat that, but you don't seem really upset, do you?" Larry snorted as I was silent for a short moment.

"oh, shut up." it was late and yawns were interrupting my sentences often. I could hardly think of any good comebacks anymore as my eyes finally fluttered shut.

"falling asleep on me already, y/n?" I could hear the smugness in his voice, but it was strangely comforting.

"Yeah, stupid. I'm in a lot of pain, and having to look at your face makes it worse."

Larry mumbled something incoherent under his breath. I snuggled close to his chest and fell asleep.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Beyond the Blood Tie - Chapter Thirty Six.

Previous Chapters - One  Two, Part One Part Two  Three  Four  Five  Six  Seven  Eight  Nine  Ten  Eleven  Twelve  Thirteen  Fourteen  Fifteen  Sixteen  Seventeen  Eighteen  Nineteen  Twenty  Twenty One  Twenty Two  Twenty Three  Twenty Four  Twenty Five  Twenty Six  Twenty Seven  Twenty Eight  Twenty Nine  Thirty  Thirty One Thirty Two  Thirty Three  Thirty Four  Thirty Five

Words - 4,009 

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!

Edie's POV

"Is it okay that we don't get out of bed much today? I really don't feel like sharing you with anyone, even if that is selfish as I'm sure there's a load of people who want to see you after you got back," I tell Angel, wrapped up in his arms in bed the day after Christmas, just after the sun has finally melted into the horizon, the sky swathed in rich darkness.

"No, that's fine. Eric and Sal have left me messages with Ursula saying they want to come round to see me, but I can put them off until later. As for staying in bed all evening, I think that's entirely possible. I can wait until tomorrow to go and buy a new cell phone. Everyone I want to talk to is under this roof already or is going to be here later. I'm content for us to stay exactly where we are," he murmurs, stroking my hair. I feel so happy, and still in a state of shock really if I'm truthful.

I thought he was dead, or at least the permanent version of dead for vampires, and now here he is lying next to me again. I called Ahmed, Sasha, Vic and Aileen last night before we went to bed, and they were absolutely stunned at my news, but thrilled for me all the same. I just can't believe my luck, I really can't.  

I also cannot believe the strength and determination it took for him to get back to me, or the fact that I was the first person he was compelled to get to first. The thought of what could have happened if those guys hadn't had good hearts… it makes me shudder to think he'd have been thrown over the side to be condemned to a watery grave. It horrifies me because he wouldn't have died right away either, so he told me last night when we sat talking before going to bed, it would have taken time for him to have shut down completely.

"You're going to have to get used to me becoming somewhat of a clingy girlfriend, because I have to confess, I'm frightened to let you out of my sight at present in case you don't come back," I reveal, turning onto my front and stroking his chest while I look down at him.

He reaches for me, thumb circling the apple of my cheek. "I understand that. You must have gone through so much over the last three days prior to yesterday.”

"I did. I was a completely broken and distraught mess. Seeing, and feeling Ursula's pain though, I have a blood tie with her now by the way, that was something else entirely. It ripped her heart in two to lose you," I explain, his hand moving from my cheek to stroke my hair.

"Why the blood tie with Ursula?"  

"One of those guys dragging you out of the shop when you were taken elbowed me straight in the cheek and broke it," I reply, feeling his anger rise up like a firework.

I move to placate him, resting my head onto his chest, stroking the side of his neck. "Calm down, don't go getting yourself all pissed off. I'm fine, Ursula's blood healed me in about three seconds. Damn, that's potent stuff.” He settles instantly, smiling happily once more. "She also thought it safe she have a link to me too, just in case I get in any danger." I then add, before the lady herself knocks on the door.

"Are you both presentable?" she asks after her soft tap.

"Yes," we call back. She then enters and sits down at the other end of the bed while I sit up, propping myself up on a pillow.

"I bring news, significant news at that. I just took a telephone call from Elias. Fifteen other members of the TVM were arrested tonight after successful leads in questioning and names given after torture of the previously arrested vampires. Only one has been released without charge so far out of those, and tonight another fifteen will begin to be questioned. The net is closing in on them.” It's another step closer to finding out who is behind this, and ultimately bringing them all down like toppling dominoes.

"I suppose Dawn still isn't talking? I must confess I was expecting her to have cracked by now. She never seemed the strong type," Angel says, shifting up the bed slightly.

"This is where you, I and many others have underestimated her. She's blind at present, being given low doses of blood. Her eyeballs are near totally burned out from the silver being dripped into them for most of the time, yet still she will not talk. They'll move on to another tactic before long, but I doubt it'll do much good. She's certainly loyal to whoever is in charge, I'll give her that," Ursula sighs before standing. "I shall keep you both no longer, I just wanted to come and relay that to you."

After that, we're free to be alone again, only talking for a short time longer before kissing takes over. Now he's completely recharged and up to strength, it doesn't take a genius to work out what the next need he wants to satisfy is.

"You know, one of the things I missed most was just lying here kissing you, so if you don't mind that's all I'm going to do for a while.” Welcoming the big body of my vampire atop me, I lean to his mouth, my lips locking with his while his hands glide down my arms.

"Why should I mind that? You do just happen to be very good at it." As it turns out, kissing me solely on the mouth is not what he has in mind.  We spend a long time tonight, getting reacquainted.

"You look very thoughtful, mi amor," Angel tells me afterward, kissing my cheek.

"I am. I'm just thinking how lucky I am, to have had you taken from me for what I thought was forever, and now here we are together again. When I thought you'd died, a massive part of me died with you. I've never been good at explaining these kinds of things, but that's how much I love you, how much of a massive part of my life you've become. Life without you in it, well it isn't worth living.”

"Ditto to everything you just said." Is all he replies with before smiling that beautiful smile of his, kissing me into total silence.

Angel's POV

"Are you ever going to stop looking at me like that?" I ask Edie when I catch her gazing at me as I dry off. I just took an extremely enjoyable shower with her, one that only partially involved getting clean.

She lets her eyes roam over me again before replying. "Nope, get used to it."  

Moving to where she’s sitting on the edge of the bed, I lean to her, kissing her pretty lips. “Good job I like it then, isn’t it?” Dressing at speed, I spend a little more time up here lavishing attention on my beautiful woman before we go downstairs, still half wrapped around each other.

"I've missed seeing that, a lovely, big smile on your face," Charles tells us warmly as he's crossing the hallway from his sitting room to the kitchen while pointing at Edie and winking. I'm glad he and Ursula adore her, too.

She has everything she's ever wanted, and also what she went without for so long right under this roof; a real family who love her. Even though only two of us are biologically related, we're a family in every sense of the word, as I'm sure you've noticed. We head through to his sitting room where Ursula and EZ are, and are joined by Sal and Eric ten minutes later. I'm as happy to see them as they are me, and I'm proud that I can see Eric really wants to cry but completely steels himself. He's getting there.

"Ursula, may I ask is it true one of the suspects taken in was Latoria Jackson?" Sal asks my creator not long after they've arrived.

"I'm afraid I cannot divulge names, Salvatore. But suffice to say, if she's currently missing from our midst then well, add one plus one and you get two." Ursula replies cleverly, answering his question for him without actually saying anything revealing.  

She steadfastly refuses to say who has been taken in for questioning, not even to us, her family. We will find out though because when the trial of these vampires begins, their names will be made public. Elias is holding off on that until he can get to the head of the TVM, who we still do not know anything about other than the fact he is male.  

All talk of this is put aside though after Sal's question, and instead we enjoy our evening rather than dissecting the more unpleasant side of life at present, with Sasha and Ahmed joining us all close to midnight, too.

"Oh, the predictability," I mutter quietly when Ahmed and Ursula head upstairs at just before 2am, making Charles hiss with laughter.

"Well, if the wife is off to get her kicks, I'm going to get mine too. Excuse me, everyone." He says before leaving, heading to see one of his humans. He has several, and they mostly follow a pattern. Older than eighteen but less than twenty-one years old, tall and blonde would be that pattern. He likes them young, but not too young.  

At 3am every visiting guest bar Ahmed leaves, and Edie and I head out to the back yard and sit with the wolves, enjoying the night air. It feels good, having the breeze upon my face, enjoying the freedom I suppose I did take for granted. I'd love to just grab Edie's hand and take her for a walk some place right now, but I guess I can't. As soon as the vampires who wanted me dead find out I'm not, well I can imagine they'll come after me again.  

I'm not scared, I don't fear them. The only thing I fear in all of this is Edie getting hurt somehow, and she was hurt badly enough thinking that I'd died. Sometimes I wish I could take her away from here, get her away from this madness, but I won't run away, and neither will she. I will take her away somewhere when all of this has blown over though, she deserves the rest.

"What are you thinking about?" She asks, rousing me from the thoughts I'd drifted off into.

"A time when all this will be over, and we can go back to normal, as well as taking you away on vacation somewhere when it is," I reply, holding my hand out for hers.

"Take me wherever you want to go in the world, I shan't argue with you! I need a vacation, I really do," she replies, moving to sit on my lap.

"Yes, you do. You work entirely too hard and also, you've had a fucking lot of stress to deal with recently, so I'm going to take you somewhere far away from here, so me and you can just enjoy what we've missed so far, enjoying the fact we're together. Two months and one week today, and it feels like two years while strangely enough, it still feels so recent, when I think back to when I was your detainee," I tell her, stroking her arms.

"I hate remembering that time, all the pain I put you through," she laments, moving to sit astride my thighs

"You were just doing your job, I accept that totally and yes, yes you certainly did put me through a lot of pain. The silver chisel being hammered into my spine was perhaps the worst, even though I wouldn't have told you that at the time. You're damn good at what you do, I was very wrong to think I'd suffer nothing considerable at your hands," I state, moving the neck of her sweater lower with and kissing her chest as my other hand slides around her back. "You're also nothing but wonderful now, so there we go." I'm sure that after a longer period of time, I'll find things about her that irritate me. Other than sometimes being a little too loud when she's drunk and also leaving trails of those makeup removing wipes and hair paraphernalia everywhere, there isn't anything else about her I find bothersome.

"Angel, do you think all of this is near the end point now?" she questions a time later, after we're shared content silence, watching the wolves bounce around on the grass a few feet away from where we're sitting.

I take a few moments to mull over my response, my fingers idly playing with her hair. "I think we've reached the eye of the storm, which means we're halfway to it blowing away, then the time to repair any more damage it leaves in its wake begins.”

"I don't want there to be any more damage. I know that sounds like such a childish thing to say, but we've all been through enough. This is, ah, this… it's just bullshit now! I mean really, why are they dwindling like this? They're scared, that's why. They're scared of Ursula, and taking you away meant she was weakened, which was probably when they thought they'd strike but of course, she'd have killed the lot of them if they'd dug her up since vampires replenish their strength at an alarming rate when they go to ground. Fucking pussy assed TVM, they're cowards!" she vents, her tone going from quite nervous to very angry at an alarming rate.  

It just amuses me though, because I love how she isn't scared. If they were humans, she'd fight them all, one by one until she'd broken each one of them. I know she'd do that. I love seeing her strength. I find it so attractive, arousing even. Speaking of arousing, I always find it just that when she sits like this on my lap, because it always reminds me how much I enjoy having sex with her in this very position.

"Don't get angry," I placate, while my hands move her sweater at the neck to slide it down her shoulders, moving to then kiss them in turn.

"I think I'm right in guessing you'd prefer I was anything but right now. Don't worry, I want you just as much as you want me," she purrs before kissing me, her hands stroking my face as she does. It also seems she's very much with me on the fact that I’m content to enjoy her right here out in the garden, our hands undressing one another at speed while your kisses grow in urgency. Our outdoor encounter ends about an hour after it began, with me lying on my back upon the table, Edie breathless on top of me.

"I think we need to get in the shower," she says, her sweaty, mud trailed body resting against mine as she catches her breath. I agree, and after moving us and our clothes at speed that's the exact place we end up for the second time this evening. It doesn't mean we stop having sex for long though, with Edie getting washed clean and then bending over, instructing me to fuck her so hard she screams. I absolutely do.

"I think I'm satisfied now, and nicely exhausted," she hums softly when we're in bed a time later, an hour away from sunrise.

Looking over at her, I raise an eyebrow. "I'd wonder why if you weren't." We then lie here and talk until the sun comes up and the natural pull towards sleep begins to take a hold of me. I look down after Edie has been quiet for a while, and viewing the beautiful sight of her sleeping with her head on my chest is the last thing I see before I join her. When I awake, I find she's up already, and dress to go downstairs where I find her out in the back garden, and also discover the source of the noise I heard upon waking, too.

"Keep more tension in this arm, and just squeeze on the trigger," EZ advises while she holds one of his guns, a .45 in this instance, aiming it at the largest tree in the back yard where there's a target nailed to the trunk. "I thought it'd be useful for her to know how to shoot, so I'm teaching her how before I loan her a gun." He then adds to me when I arrive with them, watching Edie fire the gun and only manage to hit one of the very outer circles of the target.

"Damn it!" she fumes quietly.

"You'll get there, that was only your tenth shot ever and it's dark too. Practice more in the daylight and you'll get even better, just not with silver bullets though, or you'll fucking bankrupt me," he advises, with a small rumble of laughter.

"With how much you're worth, I doubt that's possible," I snort, watching him raise his eyebrows for a moment, and then look back at me with a knowing smile. I'm worth enough as it is (you have to remember vampires amass much more money than you humans, since you have to pay out for a lot more commodities we simply do not need) and EZ is probably worth double that, with what he charges for his services in eradication. He's an exceedingly wealthy vampire. Just then, Edie fires the gun again and this time after its hit the target nearer to the bull's eye, she looks much more pleased with herself.

"A definite improvement, Edie. Like I said, it's all down to practice, familiarising yourself with the gun, the way it feels in your hand, the power of the kick. If you'll excuse me for now." Heading back inside, he and Ursula cross paths as she comes to us, my face alight when she gives Edie’s next shot a round of applause, stroking her hair and kissing her head, whispering ‘that’s my girl.’

"I just thought I'd come and watch Edie’s target practice before I head to Angela's to give her this book back that she lent me, and then go back to the side of that beautiful human I still have tied to the bed upstairs," she informs us, of course referencing Ahmed. Knowing Ursula, she probably does have him tied up, too. She's into all of that in a big way.  

"You're not exerting my friend up there too much are you, Ursula?" Edie asks, before firing another shot and then jumping for joy when she hits the bull's eye.

"I am yes, but he likes it," she grins wickedly before leaving us to it. Apparently, Constance and Coco are travelling back tonight as we speak, so I'm sure Ahmed's stay here will only be until then, when Ursula will have more important things on her mind than having sex with her favourite choice of human.  

When they arrive two hours later, once again the elders all shoo us young out of the way, until I decide that I don't want to be pushed aside any longer, planting my feet. I'm standing my ground on this. This is something that has been on my mind since I was captured, and it's going nowhere but out of my mouth. What I have to say needs to be heard.

"No, sorry but I refuse to obey this request," I state plainly, raising my eyebrows with all the petulance I dare when Constance immediately looks angry.

"We're doing this for your own good, because if you..." she begins.

"If what, Constance? If I'm taken, then they can't question me over what I know? You stupid fucking woman, they took me already and all they planned was to kill me, so what the fuck does it matter? Seriously, all this 'to keep you safe' bullshit is getting old, because it isn't keeping us safe, so you need to include us all in this. We have to start working together, and I know at your age its almost fucking impossible for you to ever listen to anyone else, because you think you're imperatively right a thousand percent of the time, but you aren't. We want to be included in this," I cut in and vent with every bit of anger that's been building up within me since I was taken away.

"If you weren't Ursula's offspring, you'd be dead for talking to me like that, you jumped up little shit!" Constance snarls angrily after a few seconds' pause. She's probably never had anyone talk to her like that for over a couple of thousand years, but she needed to hear it. They all needed to hear it.

"Enough shouting at each other!" my creator yells loudly.

"We're fed up of being kept in the dark, Ursula. I think Angel is perfectly just in what he stated, especially since he's already had happen to him what you're all trying to prevent. These rules you're all following, they're not the same ones as the TVM are, because they play by no rules. I think it's time we did the same," EZ then voices, while Constance just looks more shocked by the moment. She doesn't like being disagreed with.

"The children are right; I must agree with them. Come in, come sit, and we will get to the bottom of this mess together as a family, as we should have from the start." Charles then interjects with, Ursula agreeing with him. We then all sit down, Edie too, and discuss everything that is going on until a half hour before the sun comes up.  

No great plans are made this evening, other than the fact that Constance wants to speak to the men who were good enough not to go ahead with their plans to bury me at sea so she can try and gather more information on the mysterious man who paid them, and with that the discussion ends. Since Edie confesses she is very tired, she heads up to bed, and I promise to be right there next to her in a few minutes. I spend those minutes whistling out in the back garden for my wolves, who will return home as soon as they hear me. They don't wander too far. It's as I'm waiting that I'm joined by my creator, who looks like she's trying not to laugh.

"Go on, mom. You know you want to," I tell her, putting my arm around her shoulders. I turn to look at her, and then laugh myself when she lets out a massive snort through her nose before dissolving into hysterics.

"I can't believe what you said to Constance, the nerve you had to stand up to her in such a way! Oh, my beautiful boy, you're mine, without a shadow of a doubt you're definitely your mother's son!" she howls while embracing me. I'm glad I could make her laugh, and I'm glad I'm smiling now too, because this whole farce with the TVM has built up to a level where I just cannot idly sit back without doing anything, and I don't care who I have to challenge to make that point clear. I'm just glad my creator understands this as well as she does.

"There's an old bible passage that weighs on my mind at present, Ecclesiastes 3.8, to be precise. 'There is a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace.' Now is the time for war, and my god, we'll give them one." she states, while I nod in agreement. This is war, without a shadow of a doubt, and we will win it. We will.

[blainesebastian]

coffee cart girl (pt3)

words: 2,703 ship: austin x female reader summary: you’re the coffee runner on the set of Elvis. Coffee deliveries run pretty easy, until Austin accidently spills coffee on you. notes: I really appreciate the continued support--the comments, reblogs, likes, and asks have been so lovely! thank you :) part 1 is here, part 2 is here. if you’d like to be added or removed from the tag list, please let me know  warnings: none tag list: @pearlparty, @theinvisiblecapricorn, @kittenlittle24, @andrewgarfields-girlfriend, @mirandastuckinthe80s, @nonsensical-nonce, @softlispoken, @dudinhahoff, @peterparke-r, @lottiee03, @little-diable, @therealwriter17 , @bob-the-tomato-senpai, @bcofl0ve, @domaniquessidehoe

You’re gone from set for about a week.

Your sister visits first, unexpected, but you have a few days to take so you do. Sal doesn’t seem to care because they’ve got a replacement coffee girl to make rounds and you’d rather enjoy your time with your sibling uninterrupted. The moment you’re geared back to go to work, you come down with the flu—and it’s three days of fever, the sniffles, and sleeping a headache away.

By the time Monday rolls around again you’re brand new but almost feel slightly disoriented at being away from that amount of time. It takes a bit to get back into the groove of things, and the slight change in location doesn’t help. Moving to a larger set, it’s the carnival scene spread out amongst the tents and trailers tucked in the back of the lot. It’s quite a sight, actually, even a full working old-fashioned Ferris wheel where Colonel Parker will reign in Elvis on signing a deal with him.

You find yourself distracted by the lights and sounds, wondering if there will be a break in shooting where you can wander through, take a peek. Would be really cool to see.

“Welcome back, glad to see you’re not on your deathbed anymore.”

You smile lightly, turning to see Jillian hovering nearby. It is good to see her, she was one of the only people who messaged you to check in while you were sick. She’s a good friend. “I missed you too.”

Jillian hums, moving to sit down on a bench nearby as you fill last-call coffee orders. You both have been rather busy all day, lots of moving parts to scenes, to getting people ready, to delivering what’s being asked. You’re glad you’re finally able to talk…and that you, surprisingly, have not run into Austin today. Your brain keeps replaying the last time you saw him, even after days have gone by.

You can’t stop thinking about how abruptly you left his trailer—it's one of those things that seemingly gets worse every time you think about it, but maybe it wasn’t actually so bad when it happened. Feelings and emotions tend to warp reality until we hold the worst version of ourselves in our hands.

The sky is bleeding orange into pink as the sun begins to go down, making the carnival lights pop that much more against the backdrop.

“So…are you gonna tell me about it?”

You sigh evenly, glancing over at the redhead as you complete coffee orders. It’s so engrained into you that you can multitask—filling cups and glaring at Jillian.

“What?” She grins, “I waited until you were better before I asked.”

“How kind of you,” Deadpan, but she’s snickering and that pulls at the corners of your mouth. “Nothing happened.”

“Bullshit, okay? Austin isn’t inviting me, or anyone else for that matter, into his trailer to sit on his couch.” She pokes at your hip, making you jerk away from her. “So spill.”

And that’s what you almost do, spill the coffee you’ve just made. The thing is, you almost take her up on her offer—to divulge what happened, to tell her what you guys talked about, if only to highlight how much it isn’t that big of a deal. But no matter how the words spin, it’s going to be taken out of proportion. Just nature of the beast at this point.

“I brought him coffee; he played the guitar—we talked.” Cliff-notes, perfectly organized as if your heart isn’t beating out of your chest.

“What?” She screeches, grabbing your arm.

“Jillian!” You off-set her as best you can, thanking whoever’s watching out for you that the tray of coffee you’ve organized doesn’t accidently tumble onto your feet from your friend’s jerky movements.

“How are you not freaking out about this?” She laughs, eyes sparkling like a pond on a bright sunny day.

You are—there’s just…what’s the benefit of allowing yourself to fall freely into emotions like that. Over a few interactions? Yeah, you talk and swap personal anecdotes and you heard him sing, so what? A bunch of people on set have. You’re not about to walk around here like you’re somehow special or better than anyone else.

And maybe, just maybe, you’re a tiny bit afraid of how much those conversations have meant…what if that’s all they are? Passing exchanges?

“Oh,” Jillian says quietly after a few moments, “You are freaking out about this.”

You sigh, glancing around to make sure they’re alone. “I just don’t think there’s any use in getting my hopes up.” A crush on Austin Butler makes a lot of sense—how could you not? Pushing physical looks aside, there’s plenty more to write home about.

Jillian smooths your hair down, brushing it over your shoulder with a small smile, “It’s okay to like him, you know. Just enjoy the day-to-day while it lasts?”

You give her a soft smile back, nodding before you pick up the tray of coffee. Your feelings for Austin aren’t what’s concerning you.

Not exactly, anyways.

--

Bringing the empty tray to your chest, you turn on your heel to navigate through the trailers to sit back on the picnic table and work on your script for a little. It’s going to be a late night on set, maybe even into the early morning. You’re only scheduled for the next hour, so you figure taking it easy and seeing if anyone needs anything else should work out. Easing back into the week is just what you need.

Turning the corner, you bump right into someone—and really at this point it should come to no surprise that the universe is fucking with you.

“Hey,” Austin smiles down at you, his hand catching your elbow to steady your backstep. “Was beginnin’ to think you started working for a different film set.”

A soft laugh leaves your lips and you shake your head, “Just had some time off—my sister came to visit and then I was sick.”

“Glad to see you’re better,” His eyes flicker over you, almost an air of concern. It’s then you realize he hasn’t let go of your elbow, the slightest of pressure from his fingers against your skin.

“I noticed you weren’t on any of my coffee orders today. You start drinkin’ tea or something? Strictly Starbucks?”

He grins, his hand moving to run a hand through his hair. You swear you can still feel the heat of his fingertips—you concentrate on something else; the Elvis look he’s pulling off today. The white slacks and black lace shirt, it’s utterly ridiculous how good he looks. It almost feels like you’re staring but…it’s hard to glance away, so much to take in. These clothes were made for him to wear, you’re sure no other actor could pull this role off.

“The girl doin’ the runs, Sarah, she’s nice but she constantly got my order wrong.”

You smile a little—seems like Austin would be considerate about that though, no Frank-sized tantrums. Clearing your throat, you tilt your head when looking up at him, “Thought you were into the whole ‘surprise me’ thing.”

“I only let one coffee girl do that.”

You can’t help but grin because that response is smooth—and yet, you hope he means it. It’s not often that someone else makes you feel utterly speechless, actually it’s usually the exact opposite. You’re a talker, even when nervous, so the fact that you’re searching for words right now is so unlike you.

“So it’s uh, it was mostly the carnival scenes today?”

Austin smiles a little at the shift in conversation, licking his lips as he sticks his hands into his pockets. “Yeah,” He glances past you towards the set, “Ferris wheel got stuck though in the middle of shooting, so they had to reset.”

“It got stuck?” A laugh, “You weren’t on it, were you?”

His eyes are bright as he’s smiling, taking a step towards you as he talks, “Oh yeah, I was on it with Tom, they went to shift us into the air and we got about halfway and then just—dead stop.”

You cover your mouth with one of your hands, really trying not to laugh at this predicament because you’re sure it was nerve wracking to say the least. “You scared of heights?”

He pauses a moment as if to weigh that question, “Well I wasn’t before that.”

You tip your head back a little as a small fit of giggles escape, almost can’t help it, cheeks warming from amusement. You can just picture it—the Ferris wheel creaking to a stop with Tom and Austin completely clueless and confused, in costume, waiting to figure out if the crew could get the machine to work again or if they’d need some sort of fire department to come help.

“S’not funny, I could still be stuck up there,” Austin’s smiling though, shaking his head. “Or the whole thing coulda plummeted.”

You cover your mouth more completely this time before nodding because right, totally not funny. Agree. You look up at him as he stands in front of you, that smile still fixed on his face and you realize…how close he’s really hovering and just how blue his eyes are. There are flecks of yellow there in the iris that you don’t think you would have noticed otherwise.

You realize you’re holding your breath when your lungs start to burn a little, your eyes grazing along the fullness of his lower lip—

“There’s a hall of mirrors too, right?”

Austin blinks, instantly thrown off by your question. If you could kick yourself, you would—it’s as if your tongue has a mind of its own, shifting the charged moment to a question thrown out into the air. He clears his throat, pulling back slightly and—are his cheeks the softest of pinks or is that trick of the light?

“Yeah, there’s a hall of mirrors.” He motions with his chin past the Ferris wheel and then, “You wanna go through it?”

You make a psh sound with your lips because, “Absolutely not.” You’ve seen far too many horror movies start out that way, set design or not.

Austin laughs, reaching down for your hand—he’s apparently not taking no for an answer, “C’mon.”

“Austin.”

Ignoring you, he continues forward, his hand warm and solid against your own. His tug is insistent but not too fast paced, your eyes glancing over the muscles flexing in his arms as you weave through the trailers to reach the hall of mirrors. It’s late, seems like most the crew has packed up for the night. Some of the celebrities, you’ve learned from past sets, sleep in their trailers with late nights and early calls because it’s easier than going home.

You wonder if Austin ever does that—he might have been heading back to his trailer to change out of his Elvis look…though you’re not exactly complaining that you bumped into him this way.

Approaching the hall of mirrors, Austin tugs open the door, the inside illuminated in bright colors—an archway of orange with fat bulbs, the walls an iridescent blue, silver metal holding the mirrors into place. You crinkle your nose, already shaking your head…this seems like a bad idea. It’s so ironic because you’re the first one in line for a haunted house come Halloween, loving the chance to be scared in a safe setting, holding onto someone’s hand or arm as you work your way through the maze.

This…feels different though, for whatever reason.

Probably has everything to do with Austin wearing that shirt and it being reflected to you in a hundred different mirrors.

The door gently closes behind and you wonder, briefly, what the trick is for filming in a space like this. With all the reflective surfaces, it’s got to be tricky. Austin lets go of your hand as you explore the space, seeing your reflection repeated in the walls—endless. The mirrors twist and turn, making it feel like it’s somehow a small and large space all at the same time. There has to be multiple exits to this thing, it being a set piece, it’s not real. They can’t really get lost in here…can they?

And yet, you feel some sort of silly apprehension grip your stomach when you pause to look around a corner, as if something is going to jump out at you. Which makes no sense—

It doesn’t take long for Austin to become aware of your uneasiness. Between one lingering gaze around the edge of a mirror to another small alcove, he comes up beside you and grabs your hips briefly with an exclaimed rah noise.

You nearly jump right out of your goddamn skin. You whirl on him and smack his chest and he’s laughing, a full body one that somehow makes his eyes a brighter blue and his cheeks the softest of pinks. It’s then you notice that his shirt is decidedly unbuttoned halfway, a damn good look.

“You asshole!” You shout but you’re laughing, going in for another smack.

Austin catches your wrist with his hand, gently squeezing. “Couldn’t resist.”

You let out a long breath, the grip he has on you relaxes until your palm rests against his chest, fingers curling against black lace. Your heartbeat begins to normalize, no longer throbbing against your eardrums and you shake your head fondly,

“So annoying.” You mutter, mostly to yourself.

But because of your proximity, Austin hears you, his eyebrows arching up in amusement. “Oh so now I’m annoying.”

He’s standing there, black hair swept back except for two strands over his forehead, eyes a sharp blue in this light, skin warm underneath her fingertips, sandalwood mixed with something else wafting to your nose. You can feel the flutter of his heartbeat along your fingertips, making your stomach flutter all the way up into your chest.

So unfair, so easily handsome, completely knocking down all the walls and defenses you naturally put up to protect yourself.

You look up at him, a cheeky smirk on your lips. “Pretty sure it’s a consistent thing.”

One moment there’s this short laugh, mostly a breath through Austin’s nose, and then he’s leaning forward and down and kissing you. It’s quick, just a warm press of his lips, his hand falling from holding yours on his chest to rest against one of the mirrors behind you.

You blink, taking a step back and when you look up at him again—his lips are fuller, almost a bit pinker than before, eyes lidded as his breathing seems slightly uneven. You can understand, your heart feels like it’s about to pound out of your chest, echoing against your eardrums. Did that…really just happen?

He misreads your expression, “Sorry—I—”

The last thing you want him to do is apologize for that, to regret it. You shake your head lightly, “Did you mean it?”

It wasn’t a mistake, right? He feels it too, there’s something on both sides. It might not make complete sense and you might not have the words to describe it, but it’s there: mutual attraction, the spark, the questioning and lingering sensation that there’s something else there, something more, just out of reach.

Austin considers you for a moment, moving his other hand to cup your cheek. He runs his thumb along your lower lip, your heartrate racing in the pulse of your neck. You can almost taste the saltiness of his skin—

“I meant it.” He says and no sooner do the words leave his mouth are you pressing yourself up onto your toes.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, drawing him down into another kiss. As one hand seems to gather up the fabric of his lace shirt between your fingers, the other rests along the nape of his neck, keeping him close. His hands are equally busy, one along your spine while the other entangles itself in your hair.

Even though your eyes are closed as you kiss, you can feel the mirrors that surround you, reminding you of exactly what you’re doing.

But those consequences are for tomorrow.

--

Thank you so much for reading! More to come :)

[killemwithkawaii]

small continuation of the creepypaste writer!sal drabble, what if his s/o was his mutual?? like they both met thru finding out the other wrote their fav series, then became friends that way. and eventually through messages, finds out the both of them live in nockfell and meet in some diner

(Pt 1)

Creepypasta writer!Sal Meeting His Mutual-

Sals mutual, [s/o], gets clued in on Sals general location when they recognize a landmark in one of his ghost-sighting photos:

"Is that the Dairy Dutchess on South street? The one where the 'utchess' is always burned out?"

"Yeah, my buddy Brian inhabits the alley between that and Burrito Barn. He got stabbed by a mugger... I wanna say 6 years ago?"

"Woah, can I meet him?"

"Sure, but we have to bring him a waffle cone or else he'll get snippy with me."

>They agree to meet at the local 24-hour diner for some late-night burgers (and to make sure the other isn't the bad kind of weirdo) before they hit the town to do some spooky sight-seeing together

Sal arrives early and gets a corner booth so he can take off his prosthetic to eat. [s/o] saw his post that started the big 'horror-husbando' controversy, so it's not like his scars would be anything new for them. [s/o] gasps when he undoes the buckles and sets it aside so he can dig in

"Oh my god, you ARE creepypasta hot... 🥺💖"

"Ah- Ehehe, I guess my reputation precedes me...👉👈💕"

>The two chat for a while, discussing their favorite stories they've come across on the forum, as well as their personal paranormal encounters, then hit up the alley after they finish eating (and take a few washed-out selfies). [S/o] holds the waffle cone they purchased inside while Sal activates his gearboy, and [s/o] nearly pees themselves when the famed ghost of Brian spontaneously forms in front of the dumpster, looking like a sad piece of swiss cheese.

"Hey Brian."

"Hey Sal. Who's your friend? And is that cone for me?"

"This is [s/o], and yeah- mocha chip in a waffle cone, just like you like it."

"Ooooh, the one from the internet, huh? Don't do anything I wouldn't, you two~"

"Heh, we won't. You just want this in the usual place?"

"Yeah sure, thanks Sally!"

>Sal takes the cone from the still-dumbfounded [s/o] and chucks it as hard as he can against the side of the dumpster. It splatters with a weighty 'SLAP' before slowly sliding down to the concrete.

"Ahh, that's always so satisfying... Catch you later, Sal."

Brian dissipates as quickly as he formed, leaving [s/o] and Sal alone in the alley once more.

"Wow. So I guess your pictures really weren't shooped..."

"Nope. I honestly can't use photoshop to save my life. That's more Todds department."

"Cool... why did you chuck the ice cream, though?"

"I don't know, Brian's weird.... Wanna go meet Silvia next? She haunts the unisex bathroom in the 11/7 on Pine."

"Is she the one you posted about last week, with the giant novelty pencil through her eye?"

"Yeah. It's pretty gnarly."

"Awesome, let's go!!"

>Sal and [s/o] are out until sun-up visiting paranormal hot-spots, taking photos, and hitting it off spectacularly. In true internet-fashion, the post the two compose with documentation of their adventure is mostly dismissed and nitpicked, save for a few 'Sally-Simps' who ask for some rather explicit details about the meeting. They share a laugh in the DMs over the reaction and agree to meet up again soon (but this time during the day, so the selfies they take together will turn out a little better) 💘💘💘

[mamichigo]

I need to talk about Vindagnyr and my kaebedo au here we'll or else I'll explode. This is gonna get stupidly long, so be prepared.

First of all, let me provide you quick context. Before Dragonspine came to be known as such, it was called Sal Vindagnyr. Vindagnyr was a mou rain kingdom established on the one patch of green land in Mondstadt (which at the time was ravaged by eternal storms). However, the kingdom was destroyed by Celestia, as the gods dropped the Skyfrost Nail on top of the mountain and froze it over, killing the entire population that way.

Now, for the kaebedo part. I'm bending the timeline a little bit so Vindagnyr and Khaenri'ah existed at the same time. Khaenri'ah was still getting itself off the ground, making itself stronger. They are fully aware that their mere existence is an affront to the gods. They haven't quite yet settled into the goal of going to war, but the Black Sun dynasty knows they need to take steps to protect themselves. Their first step was to try and find allies--others in similar situations, with similar hatred for the divine.

They approach the people of Vindagnyr with the promise of helping them, as long as they swear to stand by Khaenri'ah when the time comes. At this point in time, Vindagnyr is already half freezing and has nothing to lose. If there's anything they can do to save their land, they will take it.

Following this, Khaenri'ah uses the art of khemia to create Albedo, for the sole objective of gifting him to the freezing kingdom. Albedo's purpose is to investigate the Skyfrost Nail and how to stop it from destroying Vindagnyr. This goal is never met, however. Whatever is killing the Frostbearing Tree is also affecting Albedo. in short, he "withers" along with the ley lines and the kingdom still falls to ruin.

This means that Albedo is in a comatose state for centuries, until Durin falls on top of Vindagnyr. Its poisonous blood awakens not only the Frostbearing Tree, but Albedo as well. Therefore, he's now made of something similar to Durin: the art of khemia and the power that corrupted it. He might just be a time bomb.

Albedo wakes up alone, not a single person in sight. He has nowhere to go, nor an objective. He lives in the ruins of Vindagnyr like a ghost haunting its ancient halls, still investigating the ley lines. Even if there's no one to save, he wants to understand what caused the kingdom's destruction.

Although albedo has inhabited the mountains for almost 5 centuries, no one has ever really seen him. They have only caught sight of his glowing, piercing eye--those eyest watch over Dragonspine, as if a guardian of its memories. That's how he came to be known as the owl of Dragonspine.

Kaeya, hearing the stories about the owl, seeks it out. He's not surprised to find a relic of the past atop the mountain; a relic from his own fallen nation. They are both creatures impossibly frozen in time. By all means, neither of them should exist. There's a strange sense of connection between them in that regard.

Kaeya reminds Albedo of the oath sworn centuries ago: Vindagnyr would stand with Khaenri'ah, therefore Albedo shall stand with Kaeya. Albedo agrees easily: if he goes with Kaeya, he might learn about Celestia's power, and how it killed the ley lines of the abyss. His assignment would then be complete.

His only worry is for the dark blood in his veins. Kaeya tells him that as long as he stays by his side, he'll kill him with his own hands if Albedo were ever to lose control.

So basically kaebedo are conspirators that are secretly working to find a way to bring down Celestia, in the name of both the kingdoms that were destroyed by the gods.

[thiswasinevitableid]

For the meet ugly prompts, 15 and/or 21 for ot4?

Here you go! I went with 15: I step out of the bathroom and right into the middle of a bar fight and you punch me accidentally so I punch back on instinct. There's no sex scene, but quite a bit of talk about sex.

Duck’s taken a few hits in his life. He’s not expecting one when he steps from the bathroom of Tarkensian’s General Store and Lunch Counter, but that’s what he gets, sharp and hard in the eye.

“Fuck” He yelps, swinging his fist out to keep whoever the fuck is pissed at him from doing it again. He misses, catching sight of a tall government suit as his momentum spins him into the wall.

At the gunshots, he drops to the floor.

“Goddamn it.” His attacker sprints towards the front of the store. Another shot, squealing tires, banging doors. By the time he’s made a cautious journey to the cash register to make sure Leo is okay, the man who punched him is arguing with another suit in front of a Dusenberg with bullet holes in the right front tire.

“I told you to never discharge your weapon unless absolutely necessary.” All six feet of mr quick fists is staring down at his partner.

“They were getting away!”

“Necessary means life or death, Agent Roberts; if we tracked them once, we can track them again, and stopping them today is not worth the life of the civilians in that store. Or anywhere else.”

“Who gives a damn if some hill-billys take a hit, this is government business-”

“That’s enough.” The taller man’s voice sharpens, “Protecting the people down here is why we’re doing this in the first place. If you can’t get that through your skull, you’re asking for a one way ticket back to the tiny police force they pulled you from.”

The shorter man rips his badge from his pocket, bouncing it off the other’s chest, “Save yourself the fucking trouble, I fucking quit.” With that he stomps down the dusty road towards the only hotel in town.

Duck and Leo, who’ve been watching the exchange like it’s a picture show, pivot to setting knocked cans and scattered boxes right as the remaining agent steps through the door. He stands, waiting for them to look his way and clearing his throat to speed them along.

“I, um, I apologize, Mr. Tarkesian. I only meant to question those two men in a friendly way, but the moment they saw my badge one threw a haymaker. Which leads me to assume they are bootleggers, a conclusion I was deferring until I could speak to them. That’s neither here nor there. Are you alright? Are your customers?”

“All in one piece, sir. Your partner ended a sack of flour, but nothin’ else.” Leo tilts his head at the pile of white dust, “though you gave Duck here a hell of a shiner.”

“Oh my lord.” The man puts a hand over his mouth when he sees Duck’s face, “I’m sorry. You stepped out of the washroom right when I tried to stop the younger brother.”

“S’okay. Not, uh, not the worst thing to ever happen to me at dinner time.” Duck would rather not get involved in whatever the hell is going on here.

“No, it’s not.” The man runs a hand over his slick-backed black hair, “will you let me buy you dinner as an apology? Or at least some ice for your eye?” The chagrin is unusual from a government man in this part of the country, and Duck can think of worse evenings than letting a handsome face pay for his meal.

“You buy me dinner” he tilts his head at the lunch counter, “I won’t be sore about bein’ sore.”

The man smiles, “That seems fair. Mr. Tarkesian, if you’re able to write up a bill for the damaged goods I’ll...well, I’ll do my best to get you paid back for it. Have someone drop it off at Amnesty Lodge for Agent Stern.”

“Will do.” Leo nods, then adds, “Duck, ask Pigeon for some ice on the house for that eye.”

Once their orders are in and Duck’s eye is chilling, the agent sets a thoughtful hand on his hat where it’s resting on the counter.

“I really am sorry.”

“Not the first time someone’s slugged me. Definitely the hardest, though. So, uh, guess that’s somethin.”

“If it’s any consolation, my hand sympathizes with your eye.” He holds up his right hand, bruises blooming on the knuckles. Duck holds out the ice but the agent shakes his head, “it’s my own fault for not opting for a more efficient way of apprehending those men.”

“Take it you’re here tryin to bust some moonshiners?”

“Yes. As you might imagine, it hasn’t led to the best reception.” He tilts his head towards the quartet of men scowling at them from down the counter.

“Doubt your partner helped with that any.”

“You don’t know the half of it. One of those men who wants the respect for his badge but doesn’t give a damn about earning it.” He sighs as Pigeon sets their sandwiches in front of them, “Nevermind. I shouldn’t complain about a fellow agent. Um. What do you do here in Kepler?”

“Arborist for every town in the county. The bigwigs at city hall realized any money they saved lettin me go when things got bad wouldn’t make up for what would happen if trees took out houses or the brush got too high and made it easy for the whole damn town square to burn to the ground.”

“Sounds like they’re lucky to have you.”

“Yep.”

They eat in silence, evening sun searing their backs through the windows.

“I’m, um, well I was going to say I’m usually better at conversation than this. But it’s been so long since I did any talking that wasn’t part of an investigation or government business I’ve forgotten how to be charming. Or even interesting.”

“Buyin a fella dinner is pretty charming.”

“No, it’s just the decent thing to do.”

“Take the compliment city boy.”

The agent raises an eyebrow and Duck prepares to be hit again for disrespect. Then Stern laughs, soft and tired, before sending a Clark Gable caliber smile his way, “It’s nice to be talked to like a person instead of a suit.”

Duck shifts on the stool to more easily enjoy the way blue eyes glint when he says, “Even easier if you told me your name.”

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

“Well, Joe, this is me.” Duck gestures to the house that’s been in the Newton family since it was built. He’s the last one left in town, so the faded paint and sturdy foundation are all his.

The agent regards the house with the same cool curiosity he’s applied to everything else they’ve encountered tonight. It’s only when his gaze lands on Duck that it takes on a new dimension, friendly and almost innocent in it’s hope.

“You, uh, feel like joinin’ me for some coffee? Wouldn’t wanna interfere with government business by keepin you.” He teases.

Joe is already joining him on the porch, “Roberts probably reported on our earlier altercation. I’ll have better luck keeping Agent Hayes from shouting my ear off if I give him until tomorrow to cool off.”

Duck gets the lights on as Joe hangs his hat and jacket by the door. He opens the cabinet, searching for clean glasses and mugs, spotting the bottle of bourbon that was there long before prohibition started right when the taller man steps behind him.

“Uh, any chance I can convince you that’s a bottle of vinegar or somethin’?”

“No. It doesn’t matter, though.” Since Duck’s hands are full, Joe closes the cabinet, “I don’t give a damn if people drink. I don’t care if someone wants to brew up moonshine in their yard or run a bar. What I care about is how this whole mess has made it easier for mobs to flourish, for normal people to get caught in the crossfire of a corrupt police force and ruthless criminals.” The sofa creaks as he sits down, “I’m not in Kepler because I think it’s some cesspool; I’m here because I know a major bootlegging ring has a leg here, and that the people who benefit from it won’t be the people who get arrested in my investigation casts to small a net.”

Duck keeps his mouth shut; he could tell Joe just how much Kepler’s changed since a certain family got their hands on it. But he’s not sure what else he’d reveal without even meaning to.

Even exhausted, Joe manages to look handsome when he adds, “All that’s to say, I wouldn’t mind a drop of that bottle in my coffee.”

The longer he sits on the couch with his coffee cup, the more relaxed Joe turns. He also doesn’t move when Duck scoots closer, and soon their legs and hands keep bumping each other.

“Do you know Amnesty Lodge?”

“Yep. Few of my friends work there, it’s full of good folks.”

“I agree. I, um, the only other person in town who’ll talk to me like I’m a human works there. Barclay’s one of the few people who doesn’t seem scared of me. Or, he did at the beginning. Now, well, some days I’m almost convinced he’s happy to see me.” A secretive blush dusts his cheeks, “I’m sorry, I get rambly after ten p.m. It’s just nice to have someone to talk to about him.”

Duck happens to be privy to what a man in love with Barclay Cobb looks like. So he keeps some gentleness in his tone when he teases, “City boy likes his men a little country?”

“Barclay is from San Francisco.” Joe looks up from his nails, bringing them almost nose to nose.

“That don’t answer the question.”

“Maybe this will.” Joe drops backwards onto the cushions, taking Duck with him courtesy of a kiss and not letting him up until dawn.

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

Practically everyone in Kepler has a job on the side, some legal and others not. Duck considers himself lucky that his is all pleasure with a chaser of business.

He let’s himself into what could generously be called a shack, the ragged exterior giving way to walls of beautiful drawings and a floor that’s more paper than wood. Seated in the far corner at a three-legged desk is a tall, skinny man with pale hair and red spectacles. Kepler’s Van Gogh of Vice, Indrid Cold.

At Duck’s footsteps he turns, angular cheeks and sharp nose a bit sunburnt but smile putting that star (and any other) to shame.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite model.” He stands, undershirt and denim pants hanging off him as he gathers Duck into a kiss. Then he pulls back, concerned, “goodness, what happened to your eye?”

“Hey, sugar.” Duck kisses his chin, “Got caught up in some trouble at Leo’s. Nothin to worry about. What am I today?”

“A brush salesman. Go put on that jacket, the rest of your clothing will do just fine.”

It’s the same routine every time; Indrid sketches Duck in some poor replica of a costume (a policeman, a boxer, a salesman), then instructs him to strip down to some level of undress. If it’s a weekend, Indrid will ask if he can sketch Duck for more complex drawings, some nude and some not, rather than the Tijuana Bibles that help line his threadbare pockets.

He always pays Duck for his time, even though Duck points out that, as his boyfriend, he can see him naked and hard any time for free.

They talk about birds and work, about going to the city sometime soon for a real night out, until Indrid instructs him to remove his shirt.

“My, my, what did you get up to last night?” Indrid traces a finger around the hickey on Duck’s lower belly.

Duck tells him, letting Indrid scoldingly nibble his collarbone as punishment for not inviting him to join.

“I’ve given Agent Stern a wide berth, so it is reassuring to know he’s a decent sort. Though someone really ought to inform him that Barclay shares his feelings.”

“Yeah. Barclay.” Duck chuckles, “they’re two grown men, if they can’t figure out they wanna fuck, I ain’t gonna hold their hands and drag ‘em into bed. Uh, wait, fuck-”

“I got both your intended meaning and the double one. Now kindly remove your trousers and lay on the bed.”

“Any specific pose?”

“Whichever one allows me to be in you the quickest.”

“You’re the boss, sugar.”

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

“He did what?” Barclay thunks the last crate into the back of Indrid’s car.

“Dearest, I know you’re attached to Joseph, but Duck did nothing wrong by sleeping with him-”

“That’s not what I meant.” The cook sets the bags atop the clinking crates, “Duck can’t lie. Him fucking around with Joseph could end really badly.”

“Duck doesn’t know about this” Indrid closes the car, fidgets with the key.

“Yeah, which means he doesn’t know what things to hide. Joseph is smart, Duck could say something totally innocent and give him a clue.”

Indrid rubs his forehead, “We can discuss it further when I get back from this run.”

Barclay mumbles, “okay.” Then Indrid is being lovingly crushed in a hug as his boyfriend speaks into his shoulder, “Sorry I snapped. I get so fucking nervous when you do this.”

“That makes two of us. But I didn’t come by my nickname for nothing. I slip by as quietly as a moth in the dark.”

“But what if the cops lay a trap? Or some other family wants in on Leeshon’s territory and decides to hijack you? Or-”

“Leave the what-ifs to me, dearest. I’ll be back in two days. I promise.”

When Indrid is no more than a shadow on the backroad, Barclay trudges back to the Lodge. He hates this, hates the men who put him in this position, hates the feds who sniff around like dogs waiting to bite, hates how one of the two men who can stop his heart with his smile is also one who could throw him in jail.

The instant he sees Joseph in his usual corner seat, that all evaporates. He knows the agent originally used the Lodge restaurant as a place to eavesdrop. When he’s here these days, it’s solely for Barclay’s cooking and attention. Barclay will give him as much of both as he desires, feed him full of it in hopes of delaying the inevitable. So when the chairs are up and it’s only Joseph leaning on the counter asking if Barclay will join him for a slice of pie, the cook sits on the stool beside him, leaning in as close as he dares, and tries not to think of the future.

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

“Mr. Cold?”

“I’m on the back porch.” Indrid calls, cleaning up his paints as Joseph rounds the house, his pristine shirt, shoes, and hair making Indrid feel a rare bust of self-consciousness at his dishevelment. He stands, brushing off his pants, “how can I assist you?”

“By letting me take a look inside your home. I’ve heard rumors that you deal in items that are only bought in back rooms and I need to see if they’re true. I don’t have a warrant, and I’ll get one if I have to, but then I’ll have to bring other kinds of law enforcement with me who might, um, might....look, you’re important to Duck; I don’t want this to escalate any more than it has to.”

Indrid grins, waving him inside, “Say no more. I do believe there’s been a misunderstanding. Your mind, on account of your profession, went straight to bootlegging. I deal in something a bit different” He flips open a briefcase and gets the pleasure of watching Joseph Sten blush.

“It’s not the kind of art I’d sell if I had my choice, but I have a talent for rendering all manner of lewd acts on paper. Owners of bowling alleys and hunting clubs pay decently enough for them.”

“I, um, I see.” Joseph picks up one booklet, flipping through it, “I must admit these are more realistic than the ones I've encountered in the past.”

“I use models whenever possible in both these and my other work” he gestures to the non-explicit paintings on the wall, “in fact, you know two of my preferred muses.”

“Duck” Joseph’s thumb runs tenderly over the illustration.

“Indeed. And this one…” he holds up a second book, “is based on Barclay.”

“Good lord.”

“That’s the general consensus on that part of his body.” Indrid places both booklets safely in their spots, “does that satisfy your curiosity?”

“Yes.” Joseph runs a hand over his hair, “very much. Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Cold.”

“Of course. And by all means, call me Indrid. Should you ever be interested in modeling...” he let's Stern feel the full force of his appreciative gaze, "do let me know."

The agent leaves in more of a hurry than he arrived. Indrid closes the door, slumps against and says to the dust specks, “that was too close.”

He reiterates this point to Barclay in the evening, who agrees with him that, as much as Joseph means to him and Duck, when Indrid returns from this run they’ll talk with Mama about how to get the agent out of the Lodge and, ideally, the town. They finish their conversation right as three members of the Leeshon family arrive, electing to travel north along with their goods for some “official business.” Apparently, word of the The Moth as a skilled driver is spreading, the implications of which are keeping Indrid up at night.

He stoops and smiles for the men with menacing shapes under their coats, blows a final kiss to Barclay, and speeds off into the night.

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

“Is everything alright?” Joseph hovers over Duck’s shoulder, his eyes locked onto Barclay.

“‘Drid does these trips to sell his stuff, and he ain’t back yet. Ain’t called either of us, which is mighty strange. Usually he lets us know when he’s headin home.”

“And I tried the motel where he usually stays on his last night back down. They haven’t seen him.” Barclay wipes the same spot of table for the fiftieth time, “Duck’s truck is busted and Mama’s got the one we use for Lodge business, so we can’t go look for him ourselves.”

“We could take my car.” Joseph offers without hesitation, “if you know his usual route, we can at least rule out a wreck.”

Barclay shudders; he doesn’t want to think about Indrid, caged and lifeless in twisted metal. He wants to think about it so little that he does the most foolish thing possible; he decides to give a federal agent a guided tour of their bootlegging route.

Soon, they’re creeping along the winding backroad, Barclay navigating from the front seat while Duck bounces his leg in the back. The longer they drive, the more somber the expression from the man beside him.

“Indrid’s the Moth, isn’t he?” Joseph murmurs.

“Hate to say it Joe, but you’re so outta bounds you ain’t even in...the...game” he catches Barclay’s eyes in the mirror, “oh you gotta be fuckin kiddin me.”

“Wish I was” Barclay locks his hands in his lap, “Started about six months ago. Leeshon and his mob decided Kepler was a good spot to stage some of their smuggling. They went to the lodge first; Mama told ‘em hell no, told ‘em to get gone, and they threatened to shoot her then and there to burn the whole place and everyone in it. I stepped in, offered to do it. I was so fucking bad at the driving I almost got caught. Indrid offered to help to keep me safe and keep them from going after the Lodge.” He glances at Joseph, “we’re just trying to protect our family.”

“I don’t doubt it. But you haven’t exactly put me in an easy position. I had a hunch after I was in Indrid’s house; the faint smell of alcohol on certain bags, the regular trips along the exact same route. I just...I was hoping I was wrong.”

“You know damn well ‘Drid ain’t a threat to anyone.”

“He’s aiding the mob”

“To protect us--ohfuck” Barclay’s door is open before Joseph even stops the car. At the crossroads before them are two cars, each riddled with bullet holes. The one on the right, back half full of shattered bottles, is Indrid’s.

“No!” Barclay dodges the other bodies, Duck right behind him, and wrenches the driver-side door open. There’s bullets in the seat, but no body.

“Rival family, I can tell by the rings. They must have ambushed them.” Joseph stares down at one of the bodies by the second car.

“We gotta find him, he might still be, there-” Duck grabs Barclay’s arm, pointing towards the brush, “someone dragged themself that way.”

Duck leads the scramble through the foliage, following signs Barclay can’t see until they reach scuffed shoes on long legs.

“‘Drid, fuck, fuck, c’mon sugar talk to me.” Duck is on his knees, guiding the unconscious man into his arms.

“He’s breathing.” Barclay runs his hands over Indrid’s body, looking for broken bones. Finds one on his left leg, making his boyfriend groan in pain.

“You’re gonna be okay, we’ll get you home.” There’s a clanking noise from the direction they came, “I like Joe an awful lot, but if we gotta steal his car I will.”

Indrid manages to smile with dry lips, “I tried so hard to get back. Hard to crawl on a broken leg after playing dead for as long as it took everyone who’d been shot to finish dying. I just...can we...I want to go home.”

“You clear a path, I’ll carry him.” Barclay scoops Indrid up, follows Duck back towards the car as he snaps and pushes at brush.

“Thank the lord.” Joseph opens the back door of the car, “here, he can lay down. We’ll take him to the doctor right away.”

Duck stays in the back, Indrid’s head in his lap, petting his hair and whispering to him as Joseph turns the car towards town.

“You realize I have to report the shoot out.”

Barclay never takes his eyes off Indrid, “Do what you have to. Just don’t expect a warm welcome back.”

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

“....no, Agent Hayes, there were no survivors of the shoot-out.”

“Any records on the cars?”

“Only one. The other didn’t have plates.” Joseph keeps his breathing even as his boss mulls over his report.

“Alright. I won’t send a second man down, but if this escalates I expect you to alert me at once.”

“Understood, sir.” He hangs up, relieved, and steps into the hall of the Lodge. There’s not much spring in his step, since he doesn’t dare show his face in the restaurant.

Then there’s a lot of spring as he’s yanked through a door. Before he can raise a fist, calloused hands cup his cheeks and a beard prickles his skin as Barclay pins him to the wall in a kiss.

“Did, did you hear the callmmpph” He holds tight to Barclays shoulders as the cook manhandles him towards bed.

“Yep, had Aubrey eavesdrop on you.” Duck grins from his spot on Indrid’s comfy sickbed, “you gonna tell us why you covered our asses?”

“Barclay may have to release him for that.” Indrid pats the space next to Duck and the cook let’s Joseph drop into it.

“Arresting Indrid would have put the whole Lodge in danger and done nothing to stop the mobs vying for power on this bootlegging route. It’s the better call to let people think you’re dead for a time and see if I can catch Leeshon as he’s sniffing around for a new driver. And, um, I, I couldn’t hurt you. Any of you. You’ve made me happier than I’ve been in years and I, I just want to help you protect the town.”

“Aww, knew you were soft deep-down, city boy.” Duck kisses his cheek.

“I never did get to thank you for your role in saving my life. Come here.” Indrid crooks his finger and Joseph leans in, expecting a kiss on the cheek. He gets one full on the lips, Indrid humming when he brushes their tongues together. He purrs when they part, “after all, if you’re staying in town, I intend to join my boyfriends in their admiration of you.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

“Wonderful. Iin that case, perhaps you’ll model for me.”

“Only if you buy me dinner.”

“Hey, I had to get punched to get dinner.” Duck teases.

“Let me go get it started.” Barclay winks, “don’t get into too much trouble until I get back.”

[crystalirises]

I just binge read all your fundy one shots and had an idea.

Sooooo you know how the little mermaid has a sequel???? Ariel has a daughter named Melody, and during her baptism they're attacked day Ursula sister. Ariel builds a wall around the castle and Melody hates them and sneaks out all the time.

I was just thinking red haired mermaid + handsome prince who likes music + walls and didn't know where to go from there

Oh god I loveddddd the sequel to that movie! It was just so good, and omg you’re totally right! I didn’t realize how kinda similar some of the stuff are when it comes to Fundy’s life. :333

Anyway, I made this short (again, is this even short lol) one-shot about this idea. Some stuff are different cause well, I honestly forgot some stuff about the movie since I watched it when I was like 12 skskks. Anyway, hope you like this!

Sally cradled the precious bundle closer to her chest as Wilbur guided her down the steps that led from the captain’s quarters to the deck of the ship. She scoffed as he quickened his pace, stretching out a hand as though to help her down the last steps. Ever the gentleman, her king of music. She took his hand, refraining from jumping down with the precious cargo in her hold. The sun was bright in the sky as they looked out into the sea, her people flocking near the edge of the boat to catch a glimpse of the small prince of the land and sea. The baby gurgled happily in her arms as she rocked him back and forth, waving a hand towards her sister who had settled nearby. Niki waved back, crooning sadly that she wouldn’t be able to actually see their new addition to the family. Fundy wasn’t quite like the mermaids - like Sally - taking on a more human-form with the addition of fox-like attributes that Sally just knew came from Wilbur. There was no other option.

“They seem excited.” Wilbur chuckled, hands against the rails as he gazed down at the mermaids. There was a twinkle in his eye as he wrapped an arm around Sally, cooing down at their beloved boy. “He’s just so small... so fragile. I’m going to cry, Sal.”

“Like you don’t do so every night each time you put Fundy to sleep.”

Sally leaned into his touch, resting her head against his shoulder as she continued to rock Fundy in her arms, the small baby giggling as he tried to reach for a strand of her long curly hair. She leaned down to boop his little noise, smiling as Fundy reached up a hand to boop hers too. Wilbur kept his family close as they stared out into the waves, the party was in full-swing behind them, but they stayed where they were. She could hear Wilbur’s younger brothers arguing in the background on a matter regarding what she could only assume was Tommy stealing some of Techno’s stuff. From the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of her father-in-law, Phil, heading towards him. There was a serene look on the man’s face, his stance relaxed as he approached the couple with an ease and regality that only a king could ever hold. He had retired from the position recently, trusting Wilbur with the kingdom and now here they were, celebrating the first birthday of the kingdom’s heir. Sally held Fundy closer as Phil finally reached them, patting Wilbur on the shoulder and pulling Sally into a one-armed hug. She never knew the comfort of a parent, having only her younger sister, Niki, for company.

“Not going to join in the  festivities, mate? I could watch Fundy for both of you, if you’d like.” Sure enough, Fundy began to reach his little arms towards his grandfather, whining as Sally continued to hold onto him.

“In a minute, dad. Sally and I were just enjoying the view.” Sally let Wilbur take Fundy from her, the newly crowned king rubbing a hand against Fundy’s soft ginger curls before pressing a kiss to the babe’s forehead. Wilbur chuckled as Fundy suddenly gripped a loose brown curl from Wilbur’s hair, the baby holding onto it tightly that Wilbur couldn’t escape. Phil shook his head at the small display, Sally giggling at the sight as Wilbur looked up at them with pleading eyes. Soon enough, Fundy got bored and started to squirm in Wilbur’s arms, reaching towards Phil with grabby hands. The baby’s eyes were fixed to Phil’s wings, clearly wishing to pluck a feather or two if Wilbur and Sally were to allow it. Phil wasted no time in scooping his grandson up, the small baby yipping in the older man’s hold as he settled into his grandfather’s arms. Sally mentally crooned as she looked down at her baby. At least he’ll always have the love of his family. Fundy would grow up with his mother, his father, his grandfather, and his three uncles. “Although, maybe we could spare a few minutes. My little champion seems to want to spend some time with his grandpa, hm?”

“Don’t call me that, mate, you’re making me feel old.” Phil scoffed, holding Fundy in his arms with a gentleness that the king only ever showed towards family. Sally took the opportunity and looped an arm around Wilbur’s, dragging him off towards the center of the deck where most of the partygoers were. Phil gave her a small smile as they left before turning to look out into the distance, cradling a cooing Fundy in his arms. Wilbur looked down at her in surprise, eyes blinking as those deep dark brown eyes - that reminded her so much of the dark ocean depths that she once resided in - looked at her with such love and endearment. How could she have been so lucky as to have him? It had been his heart-song that had made her so deeply in love with him. That and he wasn’t that bad of a looker either.

“If you wanted me all to yourself, you should have just said so, love.”

“Now where would the fun be in that, my king?” She leaned in closer, their faces nearly touching when the band began to play a familiar tune. She gasped, Wilbur’s eyes widening before wrapping his arms around her. The band was playing their song, the song that they had danced to on the night of their wedding. It wasn’t quite the traditional slow song that Wilbur said most weddings had. It was a fast-paced yet short tune, a ditty if you will, that left the dancers breathless and nearly exhausted once it finally concluded. His hands were on her waist, her hands pressed against his shoulders in a sort of faux waltz despite the music that was playing. From the corner of her vision, she could see that the crowd had dispersed, leaving space for Wilbur and Sally to dance if they so wanted to. She smirked, leaning up until her lips were close to Wilbur’s, her breath against his face as she looked up at him with a raised brow. “Well, my king, care for a dance?”

“As if you have to ask, love.” Wilbur grinned. Then they were dancing, their steps hurried and quick as they heard the crowd cheer and clap. Of course, Sally led the dance - as if she’d ever let Wilbur lead. Wilbur adjusted to her steps accordingly, knowing exactly what she was doing and feeling great pleasure at letting his wife take control of a skill that she had tried so hard to master.

As they danced, the creak of the wood pierced through the air as the band started another round of songs. The crowd began to join in, Sally catching a glimpse of Techno, Tommy, and Tubbo amongst the crowd - though Techno was simply standing in the sea of people with an awkward look on his face. Wilbur noticed and left Sally to dance by herself. She watched as Wilbur headed towards Techno, no doubt to help his brother with the sudden influx of people in the small space of the center deck. After a few minutes, she broke off to let herself rest, whizzing through the crowd until she reached Phil who had his wings raised in the air. She ducked beneath his left wing, glancing down towards her son who had managed to fall asleep in Phil’s arms. She pressed a gentle kiss on the sleeping babe’s forehead, glad to know that she can trust Phil to put his grandson to sleep. There was a small feather clutched in Fundy’s arms, a content smile on the baby’s face as he snuggled closer to what he was holding. Phil shook his head, chuckling before pulling Sally into a one-sided hug.

“Wilbur went to help Techno. I hope Fundy wasn’t too much of a nuisance... and that him plucking one of your feathers off didn’t hurt.” Phil laughed, shaking his head as he passed Fundy over to Sally. The baby stirred, but didn’t wake as Sally held him closer, cooing about how adorable he was when he wasn’t awake trying to pull other people’s hair or feathers off. She remembered Phil shrieking the first time it had happened during the first time she had let him carry his grandson. Now, Fundy’s crib consisted of feathers hanging overhead - although those came from the ones that naturally fell off Phil’s wings. “I’m glad you got him to sleep so easy, it usually takes forever━”

She felt the shift in the air before she noticed the dark clouds that had rolled in. Phil tensed up, his wings wrapping around her and Fundy protectively as they all took an instinctive step back. Everyone had gone quiet, the band that had played so loudly ceasing to a lull as the crowd began to disperse. The clouds roiled overhead, yet not a single drop of rain came from above. There was a static crackle in the air that didn’t felt like lightning poised to strike. Sally looked down, her people that were once there having vanished back into the sea with only her sister left on the surface. Niki gazed up at her, worry dancing in her eyes before she too vanished into the depths. Sally felt her breath caught in her throat, clutching Fundy closer as she realized what was causing this chaos.

“Sally! Sally!” She heard Wilbur’s voice call out from across the deck, his curly brown hair appearing within view as he tried to reach for her. She felt the arm around her shoulder tense up, the air screaming to a halt as Phil shouted for Wilbur to get back. There was a low whistle in the air and she heard Wilbur scream as a trident sailed past him, nearly grazing his cheek as it lodged itself into the wood of the main mast. She shrieked, teeth clenched together in anger at the thought of anyone daring to hurt her Wilbur, but Phil kept her where she was. They all stood in utter silence, until a flash of lightning - actual lightning - broke through the sky, a figure appearing at the front of the ship. The familiar painted smile on that damned porcelain mask seared itself into her memory.

Dream tilted his head, “Hello.”

---

Fundy watched curiously as a bit of ocean water seeped past the tall blackstone walls that kept him prisoner within the palace. He laughed as the water tickled his feet, reaching down to feel the cool water against his face as he patted his hands against the water. He looked up, noticing a small grate on the side of the wall that led directly to the ocean. He held back his excited gasp, before deciding to make a break for it.

A pair of arms caught him just as he was squirming his way between two bars, the familiar scent of salt hitting his nose as his mom held him in her arms. He blinked up at her, ears pressed against the top of his head, whining as he was taken away from the grate that presented freedom. He could see his dad by the doorway, a hand clutching at the stone wall as his mom brought him back into the palace. He tried to squirm out of her grip, but she was unrelenting and only let him down once his dad had closed and locked the door behind them. He stomped a foot against the floor, tail bristling in indignation. 

“I wan’ go out.” He pointed towards the window, locked (he should know, Fundy had tried it before he realized someone had left the door unopen) but it served a greater purpose of showing him the outside world. The walls had always blocked the ocean view, but his parents knew that he wanted to see it. So why weren’t they letting him? His mom sighed, crouching down so she could look him in the eyes. She cupped her cheek, pain dancing in her sea green eyes as she stuttered to answer him. He huffed, looking away as he crossed his little arms in front of his chest. His dad had moved to stand at his side and he could feel a hand rubbing the top of his head and scratching behind his ears. It would have been nice if they hadn’t kept him from leaving. He wanted to see the vast blue ocean that his storybooks always talked about, to see the shells and the fish that he’d occasionally see pictures of. “Don’ wanna talk, I angy.”

“Sorry, baby. But you know how dangerous the ocean is... We can do something else if you’d like, honey. Anything you want for the entire day, how does that sound?” Despite the anger he held in his tiny little body, he slowly began to forget as his dad began to pet his ears and his mom began to pick him up again. They held him in their arms, doting on him as if trying to make him forget what he wanted in the first place. He purred, happy to be the center of his parent’s attention. Even if he did feel a bit coddled, he wouldn’t pass up the chance to spend an entire day with his parents.

“Go nyoom!” His parents laughed as he raised up his arms, both of them setting him back onto the ground as they both counted from 1 to 10. He giggled, turning to leave the small room they were in. He wouldn’t be caught so easily.

And as Fundy ran away, he spared a single glance back, catching a glimpse of the grate that he had tried to escape from.

‘Someday.’ He thought to himself, and then he was running, his parents chasing after him as they tried to coax him to come back. He giggled, happy to play chase with them even if it meant giving up momentary freedom.

---

Somewhere, a man clad in a white mask sits upon a throne, trident in hand. He had sensed the little one call out to the ocean. Truly, it was a pity that his own kind would ever interact with a human.

Ah, well. He’d just have to take both of them back then.

‘Someday, indeed.’

---

*brain processing noises*

Listen. I don’t know XD

Okay, explanation. Sally is not royalty, she is just a normal mermaid who happened to have fallen in love with Wilbur - who was the crown prince but in this one-shot he is now the king of L’Manburg. Sally’s only family is Niki here while Wilbur has Phil, Tommy, Techno, and Tubbo.

Essentially, mermaids in this world have the ability to transform into a human form but they usually don’t do so cause they fear humans.

Now, yes, Dream is kinda king Triton and Morgana in this AU (no he is not related to Sally XD). Essentially, Dream is the king of the mermaids and he really does not want his people to associate with humans, so Sally has pretty much angered him for deciding to fall in love with human. However, he won’t hurt them, he just wants them back in the ocean and stuff. Yes, he also considers Fundy as one of his people since one of Fundy’s parents is a mermaid. So ye...

This is confusing and I apologize. I hope you guys like this tho! Also, to the anon, I cross-posted this on ao3. I hope that’s alright with you!

[ninjakasuga]

Sonsally Celebration Week, Year 3, Day Four!

Sonally Celebration Week, Year 3, Day Four!

Another day of Sonsally Week, unlike the last few entries, this is where I break linearity and go travel back to a prior period in the timeline. When the prompt of ‘Power’ was shown my mind of course went to the Super-Forms, the Deep Power Stones, and the like. Yet also my mind went back to some fanart from last year about a certain someone I would have loved to have seen share a Super Form with Sonic… Y’all can see where this is going.~

Forward: Timeline wise, this is 9-10yrs before Crossroads; the last battle of the war with Dr. Eggman. I admit I’m once again sprinkling tidbits from my still WIP Archie-Sonic-Verse that has yet to be published, but I think the easter eggs and hints of things yet to be seen will be fun for the reader.

Power:

“Sal, are you flipping insane?!” Cried Sonic as he stared Sally down at her suggestion. “You want to use the Deep Power Stones to amplify our Super Forms? What about all that ‘overload potential’ nonsense?!”

Standing beside Sonic, one eye on the half of the Deep Power Stone in her hand, the other on the approaching Egg Armada. A legion of robots, ships, and what other mechanical horrors Eggman had left to try and quash them all for good. With the world-wide alliances winning victory, after victory, Eggman grew desperate and now was throwing everything he had at them in a ‘If I can’t have it no one will!’ tantrum of a scorched world move. Basically it was done to the wire, and now they were as desperate as Eggman.

Her grip tightened on the stone, that madman would not have the last laugh. He wouldn’t end their world as he did the Mobius he came from! “It’s something I was thinking about for awhile, Sonic. We’ve seen what the stones can do just augmenting the individuals who bring the stones together. If we bring that kind of augmentation to the Super Forms? We have the Master Emerald already channeling to empower the Seven Chaos Emeralds, imagine channeling the Stones through it to the Emeralds and the Power Rings. All of you could not just have a greater power boost, but potentially the forms will last longer, long enough to wreck most if not all of the Egg Armada and put an end to this war for good!”

“It might work…” Murmured Tails, standing on the other side to Sally. “Channeling the Stones' power through the Master Emerald, which itself is a beacon and conduit for the Seven Servers…” He began to murmur as his brain went over the numbers and possible calculations. As the two-tailed fox finished his thoughts, he turned to the Guardian of Angel Island, wanting his thoughts. “The Master Emerald is your expertise Knuckles, you think it will work?”

The red-furred Guardian furrowed his brow as he contemplated this. “Maybe, I admit while my communion with Tikal or my Great Grandfather has given me greater insight to the mystical aspects of the Master Emerald, I’m still a novice truth be told.” He sighed, looking apologetic. “Sadly I know more of the scientific side of things given the Brotherhood’s data mostly focuses around that. Even my Father’s old notes are more historical musings than proven theory.” He sighed again, mentally cursing his forebears for yet another aspect of oversight the Brotherhood neglected during their long tenure of guarding Angel Island. Then again, save for the Lost Tribe, it would seem most of the old mystic arts were lost to the Echidna of today, what few were left. “Given we’ve found many connections to the old mystical artifacts of the world, there’s a good chance they’ll work together as Sally thinks.”

A low growl-like ‘hmm’ punctuated the air, before a stern voice interjected aloud. “Or it will overload the Emerald, destroy it, and fry all of us, or potentially create a super-bomb.” Shadow stated with arms crossed, and looking pensive. As all looked his way, he spoke on. “I’m not saying we ditch the idea, but it’s something to consider. I have a vow to protect this world to uphold, as well as too many I care about to let them die.” His thoughts dwelled on Rouge, Omega, and Hope especially. His other comrades within G.U.N. and the Thorndyke Labs. Even of those here, despite any past animosity, he wanted them and their loved ones to equally live. They all had family, and friends to protect. 

The last member of the group, his expression uneasy, yet a deep resolve in his eyes looked about his comrades, and then the horizon as their enemy continued to fly toward them. “We don’t really have a choice do we? This is the last chance, for all of you, as well as the Future I want to prevent from coming to pass.” Clenching his fists, Silver felt his powers hum through his being. It had been a long journey, and one not without many hurdles. From his bungling to interpret data from then Future, and its founding in the past, to dealing with the truths of his own ‘Master’ and the struggle of wondering if he was truly a pawn to bring about ‘his’ world versus a world for everyone to be happy. In the end he was wiser, more experienced and ever resolute to ensure the dark future never came to pass. All other obstacles save Eggman had been dealt with. This was the final hour. “So, save for Sonic we’re all in agreement?”

Hands on his hips, Sonic frowned deeply, looking rather indignant. “Hey, hey! I never said scrap the plan, I was just pointing out how before everyone kept yammering about doing something stupid with the Stones. Given either configuration usage done wrong could lead to KAB-BOOM! Jus’ pointing that out!” Eyeing everyone, his gaze rested on Sally, those deep blue pools that always sucked him in. Reaching for her hand, he wrapped his hand over hers, their wedding rings shining in the sun together. “You think this is our best bet, Sal? If you’re really onboard, so’m I.”

In truth, Sally did share the same concerns as Sonic and everyone else. She knew even using just the ‘boost’ augment which so far had been the safest, could lead to disaster as much as the other configuration which always ended destructively. Plus this would be the last time they could use them. As per Merlin Prower’s warning, the Deep Power Stones could be used a handful of times, and the mystic had given them warning they were on their last usage. This was due to a special magical limiter the Neo-Walkers put on the Stones, halving their ability so the Freedom Fighters and their allies could have an edge. However with the last use, the limiter was off, and so it was full power, and potentially the best opportunity for the worst case scenario. After this the Stones would vanish for another millennia until they were recharged and reappear randomly about the planet again.

Yet as Silver pointed out, what choice did they really have? Eggman was going all out; and thus, their hands were tied. “It’s the best shot we have. G.U.N.’s mechanized forces are exhausted and what isn’t in the repair bay is out fighting the forces encroaching their borders. None of the rest of the allied nations have any armies big enough to fight this horde. We can’t call for help from Blaze or any other friends from other dimensions because the Zone Cops sealed all dimension travel to Mobius Prime to prevent Eggman from escaping. This, this, is all we can do.” Her resolve sounded unshakable, despite her internal doubt, she had to sound resolute. Matching her gaze with Sonic, she managed a grin as she laced her fingers with his. “Let’s do-it-to-it, gang!”

Smiles formed about at the catch-phrase that was so infectious even Shadow was sucked in. One by one, Tails, Knuckles, Shadow and Silver joined in placing their hands over each other, forming a lock. “Let’s do-it-to-it! They all cried, before breaking to get into place. While Sally stood by the Master Emerald with Knuckles, the others began to loop around the Master Emerald, each linking their hands together. From Shadow to Silver, to Tails, to Sonic. Instead of holding Knuckles’ hand, Sonic placed his own on the Echidna’s shoulder. Knuckles did the same with Sally, while his free hand touched the Master Emerald. Sally held the Deep Power Stones in each hand, waiting for the right moment to place them together. Craning her head to Knuckles she nodded, and he nodded back, his gaze shifting to the large emerald his bloodline made their mission to protect along with Angel Island itself (well Echidna population for them, Knuckles was out to protect everyone).

“The servers are the Seven Chaos… Chaos is power, enriched by the heart… The controller exists to unify the chaos!” As he started the chant, he briefly saw a flash of Tikal within the Master Emerald, smiling at them all. This allowed Knuckles to smile, but he didn’t let this distract him. “We who are blessed by the Chaos, beseech to wield your power and wisdom, to save the planet and the innocent lives that dwell upon it. Let us be the Guardians of Mobius, of the Chaos, and the Light of Gaia!”

“We will gladly give our lives if you can let us protect all we love, please help us.” Murmured Sally, interjecting her own addition once Knuckles’ incantation chant was finished. Staring at the two halves of the stones, Sally placed them together, the halves flashed as they became one. An intense glow emanating from the black object that soon blinded them all. A bright, green glow from the Master Emerald broke through the white, with the gathered Power Rings (including Sonic’s Billionth Special Ring) all giving off a golden glow as the colors mingled together. A pillar of the mingled colors erupts from the Master Emerald’s resting place, shooting up, and up into space as the island is bathed in its warm glow.

Tails was the first to regain his sight, and once the relief they did not explode passed through him, a wide grin formed on his face as he felt it, the power of his Super Form. Not only that but he could ‘feel’ the power was increased. “Alright I think it worked!” He hollered, pumping his arms as he felt the power of Turbo Tails peak and flare briefly. “Hooo it’s been a long spell!”

Shadow merely made a ‘heh’ sound, yet smiled as he stared at his own glowing hands. “Yes, I can feel it, now those machines can feel Super Shadow’s fists and Chaos Spears.”

“This still blows me away with how powerful it makes me feel.” Murmured Silver as he marveled at his Super Silver transformation.

“Oh holy crap…” They heard Knuckles utter, followed by Sonic stammering “S-S-Sal?”. Everyone turned their heads and gasped in awe.

“Oh, my God…” Was all Sally could murmur. Her fur was a pink-orange tinge, and her hair a golden glow, flowing freely from the sheer power itself. “H-how? I thought only those with a tie to the Chaos Force could achieve super form?!”

“Maybe the powers that be felt you were worthy.” Knuckles mused, giving a nodding approval to this development. The light-pink glow of his Hyper Knuckles form, arcing with energy like everyone else. “In any case it looks like it worked.”

“I’m not a fan of the colors, they remind me of when I spent hours scrubbing chemicals out of my fur.” Muttered Sally, recalling the chemical splash that caused her fur and hair to change colors twice, before finally returning to her proper brown and auburn tones. She shuddered at the memory; she was lucky Rotor and Quack were able to make a fur-shampoo solution to cleanse the stuff from her fur, and luckier she wasn’t exposed long enough to cause any health issues.

Rubbing his chin, Sonic flashed a wide smile as he drew in his wife’s Super Form. “I dunno Sal, you rock the colors, and do’. It’s giving me ideas-.”

Tails held up one hand, and the other he put a finger to his mouth. Making a faux-gagging sound. “Sonic, I’m right here, don’t wanna hear that stuff!”

Snorting, Sonic rolled his eyes, “Hey, hey Li’Bro who said my mind was going to the gutter?”

Knuckles shot Sonic an incredulous look. “And I quote, “I’m always horny for Sal.”, end quote.”

Both Sonic and Sally managed to blush through the color of their super forms. Each coughing, and averting their gazes from their friends for a time.

“How about we can the small talk, and focus on saving the world?” Shadow stated, breaking up the moment as he turned and pointed towards the approaching Armada. “I’m sure Eggman saw that light show and is going to get even more antsy to try and finish us off.”

Clearing her throat, Sally stepped forward from the Master Emerald, letting Shadow’s comment further help to put that momentary embarrassment behind them. FAR behind them hopefully! “Shadow’s right, we got the power, now let’s use it.”

Pounding his fists together, Sonic began to jog and jump in place to pump himself up. “Juice and jam time folks, let’s show ol’ Eggy he should’ve stayed on that satellite in his home dimension.”

“If not just shriveled up and died.” Growled Knuckles as he flexed his fists before slamming them together.

“For everyone here, and those yet to come, we must win.” Silver uttered as he began to float, flexing his psychokinetic powers in anticipation.

Spinning his twin-tails, Tails began to hover as well. “Sally, give the word, we’re ready!”

“Everyone, it’s been an honor… LET’S GO!!”

[writethehousedown]

And the Livin’s Easy Chapter One (Multi) - Zyan

a/n: me? doing yet another multi-chapter for the challenge? how original. this idea came to me while i was watching hawaii five-0 and i just ran with it. i have no actual knowledge of how the surfing world works, i’m a simple kick boxing fighter, so please bear with me and the in-accuracies you’ll find. the rest of the characters mentioned in the summary will appear in the next chapter :D my sideblog is @chachkisalpaca - oh, and also, frey is an absolute angel for beta-ing this. hope you enjoy!

Summary: The surfing season in Honolulu is at its peak, with every surfer, old and new, having their eyes on the big prize of the Hawaii Surf Association annual competition. As the day of the competition comes closer, Crystal tries to not get distracted with a certain Californian girl, Vanessa swears she’s over Brooke, Yvie tries to seduce the hotel’s lifeguard and Jaida is just witnessing everything go down as she sips on her piña colada.

It’s summertime and the beach is packed.

Crystal doesn’t expect any less, honestly; the summer season is at its peak, plus Honolulu is always a famous tourist spot. No wonder there’s barely a spot to stand in O’Ahu.

The waves are good today and Crystal engages in a playful banter when she encounters some of her fellow surfers while training. There’s a surfing competition next week, a very important one at that, and every surfer and their grandma wants that prize. To think of what she could do with the money — Crystal might just layback for the rest of the season and enjoy some very well deserved vacations before going back to Missouri for yet another college year.

She finds it sad that the waves last only during the summer, because she’s capable of surfing them even when the water temperature is below 0 and would catch a cold for the mere act of standing too close to the water (“Colds start with the feet,” her mother has been telling her since she was a child, and it just stuck.)

But she doesn’t have to worry for the winter that’s still months away; right now she just lets the Sun burn her skin as the water soaks her entire body.

She feels lightheaded, like she’s capable of doing anything while she’s on her surfing board.

“You getting’ better, Glass,” Vanjie shouts, while riding the same wave as her.

Crystal laughs loudly, the nickname ‘Glass’ still sounding so wild to her, she sometimes wonders why and how did Vanjie ever come up with that one.

“What do ya wanna bet that I’ll beat your ass next week,” Crystal yells back, and Vanjie cocks a brow, focused on keeping her balance.

“Fuck off, I bet you won’t even last the rest of training without falling.”

“If I make it through training without falling you’re buying me a drink at Sal’s.”

Vanjie meets her gaze for a brief second and laughs shortly.

“Es más fácil decirlo que hacerlo, but you got a deal, bitch.” She winks at her and Crystal takes it upon herself to win that bet.

“Veamos si puedes conmigo, perra.”

*

Gigi is, decidedly, not a beach person.

She gets it; the water looks pretty under the Sun, the palms make a good background for an Instagram picture, and her bathing suit fits her like a glove, drawing attention from both men and women, but despite all this — she just can’t take how crowded it is, the children running around and yelling like banshees, how cold the water is, the dirty people that leave their trash behind, and a long etcetera.

Brita’s been so kind to invite them to their family’s house in Honolulu for a few weeks, Gigi is very much aware of it, which is why she tries not to be a gigantic bitch while they’re on the beach; she doesn’t want Brita to kick her out, basically.

Besides, Honolulu is very pretty. One of the most beautiful cities she’s ever visited, actually. She doesn’t mind the rest of it; it’s this specific part of the city that she dreads. She’s also very aware of the irony of agreeing to go to a place that’s famous for its beaches while hating beaches, thank you very much.

She applies a generous amount of sunscreen to every inch of her body, still sitting under the umbrella and ignoring her friends’ pleas for her to join them in the water. Gigi merely says that she’ll meet them in a moment, and though they’re not very convinced by it, they still run towards the sparkly blue water.

Gigi clearly lied; as soon as they’re out of sight, she pulls out her phone and thinks for a moment about taking photos for her Instagram — if she’s going to spend most of this trip at the beach, she might as well take advantage of it and take some cute pictures for her feed. She didn’t pack so many bathing suits for nothing.

She’s scrolling through her DM requests —deleting the men, replying to the women— when there’s a sudden uproar from the people sitting around her. They’re cheering for something or someone. Gigi looks around, confused, until she lays eyes on the sea in front of her and the waves crashing against the shore; there are surfers in the waves, naturally, but these seem like the skilled type.

Gigi decides to film it for her Instagram Stories, because why not, they are talented, and Gigi can barely float around in her parents’ pool in a donut floatie without rolling over and drowning.

One of them falls, and the crowd gasps, though Gigi isn’t all that interested in it. Her friends wave at her from the sea and Gigi scrambles to find an excuse not to join them.

*

Crystal can’t stop laughing, even when they arrive at the shore and all Vanjie does is shout at her, saying that she bewitched her or something, because there’s no way she fell instead of her.

“Get over it, Vanj. You owe me now.”

She sticks her board into the sand, taking her hair tie off and rearranging her hair in a ponytail. Her hair is soaked, clearly, and Crystal’s hands are already tired at the thought of having to shampoo the sea water off it.

Crystal doesn’t mind though, it’s worth it.

Vanjie shots Crystal a deadly glare and rearranges her own hair, groaning slightly as she does so.

“I’m only paying you because a bitch keeps her promises,” she says. “Also, on the note of having drinks, you wanna grab a smoothie before going on with training? But you’re paying for your own drink, ho.”

Crystal laughs wholeheartedly with a nod. She goes to look between the pockets of her bag for money and asks one of her friends to watch her board for her; it’ll just be a moment.

They’re talking about their plans once the competition is done and what would they do if they get the prize money. Vanessa says she’ll pack up her stuff and go back to Puerto Rico for the rest of the summer even if she loses, and will chase waves on her hometown beach. Maybe teach a few of the little ones in her family to surf, if she has the time and patience for it.

“Y’know, the little shits are getting bigger and bigger, and they barely remember their aunt Vanessa! My girl Julia, bless that one, still remembers me — but, bitch, she did her first communion already! Damn, last time I checked she was still five,” Vanjie rambles, and Crystal definitely feels her on a spiritual level.

This is the part she likes about being friends with Vanjie, the fact they both have similar experiences with their Latin families and understand each other in a way most people wouldn’t. Her favourite part of summer is getting to spend it with her.

Crystal says something about her little nephew Mateo —who Vanessa adores, despite having not met him yet, just because his name matches with her surname— and how he’s gotten so big in the blink of an eye, already reaching Crystal’s hip, when she bumps into something.

Or rather, someone.

There’s a gasp and Crystal is wet yet again, though this time it’s sticky and it smells fruity.

“Well, there goes ten dollars,” a voice snarls, and Crystal finally pulls up her gaze to meet the asshole that just spilled their drink all over her.

She finds a woman with long auburn hair, skin pale as snow, think as a rail, with pink plump lips and a pair of icy blue eyes staring right back at her. Crystal thinks it’s a shame that she’s an asshole, because she is really pretty.

“Watch where you walk, pendeja,” Crystal bites back and the woman rolls her eyes, avoiding her as she goes on with her way. Vanjie and Crystal briefly look at her before proceeding with what they were doing. “At least I can wash the stickiness off once we hit the waves again,” she consoles herself, resigned to smell like fruit until she gives her bathing suit a proper wash.

*

“I hate the beach,” Gigi declares, settling at Jackie’s side with a huff and her arms folded. Jackie quirks an amused eyebrow, barely stifling a laugh, and Nicky casts a side glance at her.

“Why’s that?” Nicky asks, her gaze still glued to her phone.

“Some idiot cost me ten dollars, can you believe? I didn’t even have a sip of that smoothie!” Gigi complains with a whine that’s rather childish. Jackie just laughs, patting her friend’s back.

“If you join us now, I’ll buy you another smoothie later.”

“Fuck off with that motherly tone, Jacqueline,” Gigi says with a laugh, Jackie gasps offended and swats her arm playfully.

“That’s not the way to talk to your friends, baby Geeg!” Jackie scolds her, only making Gigi laugh louder.

Jackie is the eldest of them all (though, to be fair, she’s only a couple months older than Brita) and she’s naturally the mom friend. She’s pulled them out of the bar, called cabs, helped them through heartbreaks, more than Gigi can count (though Gigi isn’t good at counting). It’s only fair she gets to do these jokes.

Gigi pouts and puts on her puppy eyes, locking her hands. “Do you promise to buy me a smoothie, though?” She asks, in a tone so high-pitched she annoys herself.

But never Jackie, she’s got the patience none of them have, so she just nods with an over the top sigh and forcefully drags her to the water.

Gigi hates what the salty water does to her hair, though to be fair — Jackie did buy her a smoothie once they came back to their spot.

*

Sal’s Shack has grown to be Crystal’s favourite place on the island.

She discovered it when she was a little girl and came to Honolulu for the first time, after her parents saved up for a whole year and her father pushed as much as he could for a promotion at his job. It isn’t just a restaurant or a bar; Sal doesn’t like labels, so he never put one on his establishment.

It’s whatever you want it to be, though it does become a bar after midnight, that title going away once the Sun is up.

When Crystal met Vanjie, almost five summers ago, she took her to Sal’s Shack, and Vanjie was so in love with the place they kept on coming back, with or without the other.

Sal immediately smiles upon seeing them enter, even if the place is already getting crowded, Sal tells them he’d be able to hear Vanjie’s voice from a mile away.

“What can I get you tonight, girls?” He asks, with that warm, kind smile that reminds Crystal of her childhood years.

“I’m in the mood for your spicy meatballs sandwich,” Vanjie says dreamily, prompting Sal to laugh wholeheartedly. Crystal follows her suit by saying she wants a burger, and tells Sal not to be shy with the sauce.

They get settled while they wait, talking about how their college careers are going and how much they want the summer to be endless.

There’s just something about this city that makes it magical, Crystal likes to think. She’s had a few summer flings there, never seeing them again once she packed up her things and came back to Missouri, but each one of them had something special that made Crystal feel as if it wasn’t just a summer fling.

She wonders if she’ll find someone new this time around too, though it isn’t high up in her priority list.

*

Brita takes them to her uncle’s restaurant-bar-whatever, saying they have to visit it, not only because they serve pretty good cocktails, but also because there are always some hotties hanging around.

Though the idea of a summer hook up is attractive to Gigi, this isn’t Los Angeles; she doesn’t have any cab numbers, she still can’t properly manage herself around, and would consequently get lost trying to come back to the house. She tells herself that she’ll wait a few days until she’s a little more familiar with the place, just in case.

They arrive to the bar —Gigi’s decided to call it a bar for her own sanity—, and much like at the beach, the place is full, and she can’t see a free table.

“Don’t worry, girls,” Brita says, “I called my uncle and told him to save us a table, follow me.” So follow they do. They absentmindedly link hands and elbow their way through the place. The music is blasting through the speakers, there’s a couple of people dancing, and a lot of others just standing with their drinks and nudging on them.

Gigi has to admit Brita was right; there are some attractive people around, and it takes all of Gigi’s willpower not to stare. Perhaps sticking to the rules she’s just imposed on herself won’t be that easy.

They make it to the end of the bar and Brita smiles widely upon seeing her uncle, breaking the chain of hands and launching herself into his arms. The girls stand there awkwardly until they finish their conversation.

“He looks like Brita, but as a man,” Jan comments in a whisper, making Gigi and Nicky laugh. Jackie shushes them, though she agrees under her breath.

Brita introduces them one by one with a wide smile, and Gigi has to admit the resemblance between them is scary. Brita’s uncle gives them a warm welcome and tells them to call him Sal before guiding them to their table. It’s in a corner of the place and they can see everyone and everything, plus, they’re a few feet away from the bar. It’s a nice spot overall.

They get settled and Sal leaves them a few menus with the drinks options, including non-alcoholic drinks, and leaves to go back to work, telling them to look for him if they need anything.

Gigi briefly looks at the menu before setting it aside and looking around the bar, trying to find a face that stands out from the rest — instead, she hears a voice that breaks through the noise and makes a few heads turn around.

They voice comes from a few tables away, right in front of them. There’s a woman with dark, curly hair waving her arms around and talking with her friend, while the other woman sitting in front of her and facing Gigi is dying with laughter.

Gigi squints, finding her face oddly familiar, until it clicks.

*

Crystal throws her head back as she laughs, bracing her stomach as Vanjie grows louder and louder during her speech.

“And the fucking bitch had the AUDACITY to call me a fucking liar! Can you believe?” Vanjie slams her fist on the table and Crystal is hollering with laughter. She knows she shouldn’t have brought up the fact that her ex is also coming to the competition, but right now Vanjie is too worked up to back down.

For the longest time, Crystal thought Canada didn’t have any surfers — with such a cold weather, how could someone even want to enter the water? But it turns out that Vanjie’s ex, Brooke, is Canadian and a surfer, and she’s going to be competing alongside them. She found out, because she follows Yvie Bridges’ socials, and she posted a picture with Brooke, captioning it with “Excited to be reunited with my sister in Honolulu!” Except with a lot more exclamation marks.

Vanjie quickly tries to backpedal her entire rant by saying she’s not bothered at all by Brooke’s presence, because she’s over her and she’s seeing this girl, Kameron, who she met in a competition in Puerto Rico and is a sports photographer.

Crystal cocks a brow and before Vanjie can further prove to Crystal that she’s not over Brooke at all, she asks her if she wants another round of destornilladores. Vanjie nods effusively, tossing bills to her.

She heads to the bar and perches herself on it, waving at the barman. She places her order and when there’s a seat available, she takes it without hesitation.

Crystal is watching the barman as he mixes her drink, when someone slides into the empty seat next to her. She casts a quick glance over them and has to do a double take when the woman’s face is familiar.

She blinks repeatedly; this is the woman that threw her smoothie at her earlier that day.

It seems that Smoothie Girl recognizes her too, because she stares at her for a moment too long, and somehow Crystal finds the courage to speak up.

“You’re the asshole that threw their smoothie in my bathing suit,” Crystal finally speaks up.

“And you’re the asshole that threw herself into my smoothie,” she shots back, cocking one of her perfectly painted eyebrows, and Crystal has to admit that was a good one.

The barman places her orders in front of her; Crystal quickly pays him and Smoothie Girl takes advantage of his presence to place her own order. Crystal searches for Vanjie’s eyes among the crowd, and she finds her with her stare glued on her. She smiles when she sees their drinks, but frowns when Crystal points at the woman sitting beside her.

It’s her, she mouths, but Vanjie tilts her head, confused. Smoothie Girl, she mouths this time, and Vanjie looks surprised. She starts to mouth things Crystal can’t catch, but she guesses it’s a combination of get your ass over here, and that bitch.

“I’ve been thinking all day about what you called me,” she says, attracting Crystal’s attention again. She frowns, confused.

“What? Pendeja?” She asks, and Smoothie Girl nods. “Oh, that’s Spanish for asshole.”

Smoothie Girls snorts, cocking a brow. “What’s the Spanish word for ‘you owe me ten bucks’?”

“That would be ‘in your dreams,’” Crystal retorts, the brunette rolls her eyes.

She knows Vanjie is watching them closely, her stare burning a hole in Crystal’s neck, in case hands need to be thrown. But she has a feeling she won’t be needing Vanjie’s hands — not that she can say the same about this woman.

The barman leaves a drink in front of Smoothie Girl and she pays with a coquettish smile, Crystal thinks her drink smells way too fruity.

“That smoothie left my bathing suit smelling like fruit even when I washed it three times,” Crystal comments, trying to sound nonchalant. The woman cocks a brow as she sips on her drink. “What flavor was it, anyway?”

She seems surprised by the question, though she’s quick to answer.

“Uh, mango and peach, I think,” she replies and Crystal scrunches up her nose.

“Ugh, that sounds hideous.”

“It’s not! Had you licked your bathing suit you would know it’s very tasty.” She laughs at her own joke, and Crystal finds herself laughing too.

It’s weird how just moments ago they were calling each other assholes and now they’re laughing like nothing happened.

Crystal scoots herself closer in the chair, their knees practically brushing as she tries to catch her gaze.

“You got a name, Smoothie Girl?” She inquires in a casual tone. Smoothie Girl finally meets her gaze, and her blue eyes aren’t as icy as the first time they ran into each other.

“Genevieve, but everyone calls me Gigi.” She offers her hand to shake and Crystal gladly takes it. “And you?”

“I’m Crystal. Some people call me Crys, others Cryssie — and that dumbass over there,” she discreetly points at Vanjie, who’s typing away in her phone, trying to act as if she hasn’t been staring at them for a long minute now, “calls me Glass. Don’t ask me why, she just does.” Crystal shrugs, and Gigi laughs.

She feels some sort of pride blooming in her chest at making Gigi laugh.

“So, Crystal,” Gigi begins. “Do I have to assume you’re a surfer? I mean, what you were wearing when you ran into my smoothie looks like something a surfer would wear.”

Crystal nods enthusiastically, proceeding to tell her that she’s been surfing on and off since she was just thirteen and how she comes to Honolulu every year, rarely shifting her destination for the summer.

In return, Gigi confides her that she’s from California and it’s her first time in Honolulu, saying that her friend —Sal’s niece, apparently— invited them and she just couldn’t say no, even when she isn’t that much of a beach enthusiast. She hates them, in fact.

Upon hearing this, Crystal lets an over the top gasp that makes Gigi go into a fit of giggles, apparently already expecting that reaction.

“What the fuck? Dude, you can’t be serious,” she exclaims, and Gigi continues giggling.

“I’m deadly serious,” she assures her, twirling a strand of hair around her index finger.

“You don’t even like the food or ice cream?”

“I do, I hate the dirty people that leave their trash behind, though.”

“What about the kids? They’re always so cute — running around with their water guns and getting excited over everything. Some remind me of my own little cousins.”

Gigi visibly scrunches up her nose, doing a disgusted face.

“I hate kids, actually.”

Crystal folds her arms in a huff, intently staring at Gigi.

“No, there’s no way you’re that much of a… Beach Grinch,” she blurts out, the embarrassment flooding over her as soon as the words come out from her mouth. Gigi cocks a brow.

“Beach Grinch? Now that’s original,” Gigi says, leaning in closer to Crystal, a wicked smile painted in her lips. “Y’know, though I find the beach extremely boring, I can’t say the same for the people that like it.”

Crystal grins; she’s played this game far too many times, but something in Gigi makes her think this time it won’t be as easy as with the other ones.

Just when she’s lining up a witty reply, Gigi suddenly scoots back, a bashful smile where there used to be a wicked one.

“Sadly, I don’t have the time to think too much about it, ‘cause I’m here to have a good time with my friends. Later!”

She hops off from her chair, bringing her drink with her, and makes her way back to her friends, swaying her hips as she walks and making her skirt fly with the movement.

Crystal takes a moment to realize what Gigi just did, and when she finally pulls herself back together to walk over to Vanjie with their drinks, she tries to convince herself that maybe Gigi is another one of those straight girls wanting to “experiment.” It’s what she says to herself to make her cheeks cool down several degrees.

Vanjie says they can cash the bitch outside if she wants to fight, but Crystal just dismisses her with a wave of her hand.

After they finish their drinks, they hang around at Sal’s for a little longer, dancing when there is a good song playing and talking with strangers, and just before they leave, Crystal looks through the crowd for Gigi’s eyes, and she finds her staring right back. What she sees in her eyes makes her stomach twist.

‘If she’s playing hard to get, then it’s on,’ she thinks, and the next thing she thinks is that Gigi can read her mind, because the wicked smile is back into her face before Crystal withdraws her gaze.

[nockfellblues]

Your writing is super awesome! If you're still taking requests, may I please request the gang with a S/O who's secretly a vampire? (again, love your work :3)

Thank you so much! And, yes of course I’m still taking them c: Also, sorry for the delay, haven’t felt too hot the last couple of days ;;;;

Sal: This boy is too perceptive, he knows as soon as they meet that his s/o is different somehow. He gets super nervous about it at first: the fact that they’re homeschooled, late nights sneaking around, how crazy ashy their skin gets, those days when they just space out staring at people with their eyes just a little too glassy. He totally thinks it’s cult related and, even though he cares about them, starts to snoop around. He inevitably finds himself sneaking into their home and, upon finding a bloodied shirt, is honestly freaking out. Until his cover is blown when they walk in on poor Sal with their bloody shirt in his hands and they just sigh because, great, now they probably have to move again. Sal is super cavalier with the whole thing- he talks to ghosts and deals with a cult, this is just another Tuesday night. He takes it all in stride and helps to cover their activities because, if he notices, surely someone else might too. He’s super open to the idea of providing blood if needed, but he lays down a set of rules, just in case something goes wrong. Constantly makes a quiet joke of it by getting them vampire themed gifts all the time.

Larry: He didn’t even think anything was weird about his s/o- I mean, he hates the sun most days too, so what? He pulls all-nighters all the time too? But when he shows up in their apartment, unannounced, and the door is unlocked and he lets himself in and, oh my god what the fuck are you drinking, dude?? Absolutely stunned, needs to sit down, and has no idea what to even say. First ghosts, then a cult, now vampires? After an explanation he’s way more chill about it that you’d expect, but he has so many questions. What or who do they eat? Will the sun kill them? Are crosses harmful? What’s up with the garlic thing- dude, can you not have garlic bread!? Is super scared to provide blood in an emergency, but once it happens once, he finds it incredibly hot. Will make constant vampire puns, all the time, and will not stop.

Ash: Totally figures out their s/o’s secret on accident by joking about them being like a vampire one day and her whole brain just dead stops because, holy crap, are they actually a vampire? She immediately goes to Sal about it, because who else would believe her, and he 100% agrees. Ash decides to confront her s/o alone, just in case, and is weirdly excited about the admission that, yep, they’re a vampire! She’s got the usual couple of questions, mostly things that are harmful, and then just kinda doesn’t mention it much afterwards. She’s super chill about the whole thing and never pushes for an addition details that aren’t readily provided- like, if they’re not offering the info, she’s not going to pry. She’s also the most relaxed about providing blood in a pinch- the first time her s/o even alludes to it she just shrugs like, “yeah, whatever you need. Just keep it low so I don’t have to answer questions, okay?”

Todd: Like Sal, he noticed all of his s/o’s nightly strangeness and had more than an inclination as to something weird going on. He guesses its cult-related too, and enlists Sal to help him do some clue hunting. When Sal comes back with a lot of small oddities a mile long Todd takes his time to digest the fact that, well, vampires could actually be a real thing. It’s not too far of a stretch, considering the ghosts and the cult and all of his studies on extraterrestrial sightings... He finally decides the best approach is to just ask outright if they really are a vampire, and keeps his whole theory basis and clues on hand just in case, and takes the affirmation shockingly well. He has the most questions, everything from things that are harmful to how their vampirism came to be- he will want as much info as his s/o is willing to provide, so long as they’re comfortable doing so. Immediately sets up boundaries when it comes to feeding and is the most reluctant to provide blood- he respects his s/o’s boundaries and asked that they do the same for him. He will, however, provide in an emergency situation, no questions asked.

[radiosteve]

Need Your Loving Tonight Ch. 23

Summary: The wedding and the end.

Note: Last one! I hope everyone enjoyed this series. It was so fun to do. I’m not sure if I’ll be writing much else after this. As always, the italicized part is the reader’s thoughts. The photo is one that I found on google. I do not own any rights to it. If you want to be added to the taglist send me a message or an ask and I’ll add you!  

Warnings: Language, pregnancy

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Reader, John Deacon x Reader

Words: 3k+

  July 31, 1975

 The summer air blew warmly, causing the rose bushes outside to sway side to side. The sun was beating down lightly on the bright green grass, but the heat was well maintained by the breeze that often flushed through the air. The pathway, lined with pink and red rose petals, trailed from the entrance of the beautiful venue and led out to a sharply trimmed patch of grass. When planning the wedding, the first thing you and John agreed on was an outdoor ceremony with an indoor reception and the two of you made sure that it happened.

 A familiar feeling tingled in your toes, sending shivers throughout your body as you sat back in a chair that was perched in front of a large vanity in the rather small dressing room. Your hair was tied up beautifully, framing your face in a way that was both elegant and appealing. The natural tones of your makeup worked perfectly against your lacey, fitted and draping white gown. With a deep inhale, you pushed yourself forward, leaning your elbows on the vanity before you. Your eyes roamed over your reflection, admiring your appearance. It’s just how I always pictured it.

 A gentle knock rapped against the door, startling you from your deep investment in your own reflection. You rose from the chair, pushing it in as you headed towards the door. Stopping just in front of the door, you peered through the peephole, trying to figure out who stood on the other side before letting them in. It was Sally, standing with her arms crossed over her chest as she looked towards the ground and tapped her heeled foot. You leaned back from the peephole, unlocking the door and pulling it open with the faint traces of a smile on your face. Sally stepped inside, immediately turning to lock the door once again and prevent other from getting it. She turned back around to face you and her eyes traced over your figure.

 “Wow,” she spoke simply, the words flying from her mouth and leaving her breathless. “You look incredible. I swear, I’ve never seen a prettier bride,” a smile stretched out across her lips, bringing one to yours as well. 

 “Thank you, Sal,” you returned to the chair that you’d been sitting in before, angling it to face her as she sunk onto a small cushioned bench across the room. “You look really pretty as well. The bridesmaid dresses we picked out are truly gorgeous,” Sally nodded, knowing that you were right.

“Are you nervous?” Sally looked concerned as she asked. It was an expression that you had grown fairly used to seeing. Sally always did her best to look out for you, which sometimes resulted in her voicing her criticisms sometimes a little too often, but you admired it nonetheless. It was Sally’s constant worrisome glares and prying into your social life that brought your true feelings to the light of day. Without her you’d never be standing where you were today, in a wedding dress and about to marry the love of your life.     

 “I thought I would be, knowing me and all, but I’m surprisingly not. I mean, there’s a part of me that’s a little scared of being up there in front of so many people and everything that’ll happen at the reception, but I’m definitely not nervous about me and John. We’re meant to be and there’s nothing that can stop us now,” you folded your hands in your lap and caught sight of Sally’s gaze trailing down to them. Her eyes landed on your perfectly manicured fingernails and the beautiful cuticles that surrounded them. Sally felt her heart warm in surprise. She hadn’t noticed before now that you stopped biting at your cuticles. And it was with that realization that any spiral of doubt, no matter how big or small, about you and John vanished from Sally’s thoughts. He was good for you and you were good for him, she could 100% see that now. 

 “I’m glad. The two of you really are the perfect couple,” Sally stood up, adjusting the strap of her dress as she did. “I have to run and do a few more things before the ceremony, but me and the other bridesmaids will all be back in here just a little before were ready to start. Ok?” you nodded, and Sally went over to the door, giving you a wide smile before unlocking it and pulling it open. It wasn’t until after she had already taken a step forward that Sally realized there was another person standing in the doorway. Sally’s eyes trailed up from the ground, landing on the deep blue irises of the one and only Roger Taylor.  

 “Hello Sally,” he spoke timidly as Sally backed up, allowing him to step into the small room. “I just came by to wish the bride good luck,” Roger smiled at you and you couldn’t help but smile back.

 “I’ll just leave the two of you alone,” Sally quietly drifted back into the doorway, shutting it quickly behind her as she left.

 “I kept hearing about how great you looked, but now that I see it, I can confirm that you really do look perfect. That dress is wonderful,” Roger sat down, perching on the same bench that Sally rested on a few minutes before. 

 “Thank you, Roger. That really means a lot,” you nodded as you spoke, and Roger hummed a response before opening his mouth to talk once more.

 “So, how are you feeling? Big day, lots of emotions. Think you’re going to cry?” Roger’s slew of questions caused a chuckle to fall from your lips. 

 “I’m alright really. Not sure if I’ll cry but I don’t feel too nervous. If anything, I just feel ready,” you stated plainly, using your hands to accentuate your point. 

 “Ready to be Mrs. John Deacon?” Roger’s lips pursed and you could feel his saddened emotions peaking from his words.

 “Look Rog, we really appreciate you being here. I mean, I really appreciate it. I know it’s still a little hard sometimes but we both know that this is what’s right. For both of us,” Roger nodded his head sadly. You caught a glimpse of a tear shining in his eye and quickly reached over to wipe it away with the pad of your finger. “You don’t have to be sad, Rog. Just think, you’re going to meet a girl one day and she’ll be perfect for you. The two of you will have what John and I have. There is someone out there for you. I just know it,” you leaned forward resting your hands onto your knees.

 “I know, I know. You’re right,” Roger sighed, brushing the remaining tears from his eyes. “Just feels like everything’s happening so fast. I mean, it feels like just yesterday when Brian and I walked in on you shagging Tim in the rehearsal room before my audition,” Roger chuckled slightly, leaning his head back as he did. 

 “Oh god, don’t remind me,” you laughed along with Roger feeling any and all wedding worries flee from your head. “That seems like it was forever ago. I can’t believe how young we all were,” Roger nodded again feeling that same easiness as you did. 

 “Yeah me too. But everything is different now, for better or for worse. I’m just glad that you still kept me around after all those years,” Roger’s eyes locked with yours and you could sense his sincerity within them. 

 “I am too. Who else would make fun of me if you weren’t around?” you giggled crossing your right leg over your left as Roger shifted in his seat. 

 “I guess Freddie would have to step up, but I can tell you right now that he’s not half as good at teasing people as I am,” Roger folded his arms over his chest proudly with a cool smirk plastered over his lips. 

 “Oh, I bet,” you laughed, pushing your chair so that the back rested against the front of the vanity. 

 “Well,” Roger began, slapping his hands against his thighs as he stood up. “I better get going so that Brian doesn’t freak out about not being able to find me,” you stood up too, moving closer to Roger. “Just wanted to see how you were doing and tell you how amazing you look,” a shy smile fell upon Roger’s face. 

 “Thank you, Rog,” you pulled him in for a tight hug and Roger made sure not to crush your perfectly styled hair. He leaned down, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead as your arms still held him close. Reluctantly, Roger pulled away, backing up to the small door in your dressing room.

 “I’ll see you out there, Y/n,” Roger flashed you a small smile before walking out of the room. Your heart stayed steady in your chest, beating a calmly as it would on any normal occasion. Yes, a part of you would always hold on to that attachment and love that you felt for Roger, but now you were ready to make things final. To move on once and for all and start anew.

 May 11, 1980

 “Honey can you come upstairs for a minute? I have something I want to show you,” John called down the staircase as you sat on the couch with a book in your hand. You let out a little huff, placing your bookmark into your book, marking the page so you can come back to it later. The pads of your feet hit the floor as you marched your way up the stairs. The house definitely looked smaller now than it had when you first bought it, but you still loved it. By the time you reached the top of the stairs you felt your breath become labored and heavy. John came up beside you, placing his hand around your back to help you walk into your bedroom. “Here, love. Why don’t you sit down?” John led you over to your shared bed, helping you sit comfortably. 

 “John, why did you call me all the way up here?” you asked, your breathing was still a little heavy as your hands went down to rest on your stomach. John rushed around the room, pulling a record from the record player and tossing it onto the bed next to you. “Hey, be careful with that,” you warned, but John ignored you, pulling a record out of an unmarked sleeve and placing it on the record player. After he set it all up, John turned around to face you. A bright smile covered his face, lining its way up to his eyes. “What is this all about,” you moved slightly, trying to get more comfortable as you leaned into a pillow.

 “I wrote a song and we recorded it yesterday. I just got the final product today and I wanted to play it for you,” the smile never left John’s face as he spoke.

 “You could have just said that instead of running around like a maniac, Johnny,” you laughed, trying to get up a little but falling right back down onto the bed.

 “No, no, no. Stay there, I’ll come sit with you. Just let me start the track,” John turned around once more, fiddling with the record player until you heard the sound of guitar ring throughout the room. John rushed over to you, taking your hands off of your stomach and encompassing them in his. The song played loudly, and you really listened to the lyrics, realizing that it was about you. After the song ended, John looked up at you, his eyes locked with yours. 

 “What is this song called?” you asked, rubbing your thumb over the back of John’ hand. His hand squeezed yours quickly before he answered, the smile never leaving his face.

 “It’s called Need Your Loving Tonight. I started writing it when you went back to the States, just a bit before we got married. I’ve been tweaking it ever since. It just felt like a good way to get my feelings out at the time,” John’s hands stayed clasped with yours.

 “I think it sounds great, John. I love it,” a smile broke out across your face, mirroring the same expression that covered John’s. 

 “Yeah?” he asked, and you nodded, pulling him in for a long sweet kiss. His hands came to rest around your waist, and you pulled him as close as you could. The two of you broke apart and John’s hands came to rest on your stomach as he leaned down and put his face level with it. “You hear that? You hear that Richie? Your Mummy loved the song I wrote for her,” you giggled as John spoke to your pregnant belly, feeling the vibrations flow through it. 

 “You’re ridiculous,” you pulled John’s hands from around you and kissed him once more as he grinned against your lips. It was then that you heard the sound of the front door open from downstairs along with the patter of footsteps across the hardwood floors. John helped pull you up from the bed leading you out the bedroom towards the staircase. You heard the muffled sound of voices and laughter coming from the kitchen as you finally descended the stairs. John wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he helped you through the hallway.

 “Who is that making all this noise in my house?” John called out from beside you with a cheeky grin on his face. Instead of receiving a proper reply, a small girl who closely resembled John popped out from around the corner.

 “Boo!” she shouted, sticking her hands up to frame her face. John stumbled backwards, still holding you tight as he pretended to be scared.

 “Amelia May Deacon! You nearly gave your father a heart attack!” you teased, leaning over as much as you could to ruffle her messy hair. “What do you have to say?” you asked, giggling a little as Amelia smiled up at you.

 “I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t mean to give you a heart attack,” she said bashfully, looking over to John. He had a huge smile etched over his lips as he bent over to be eye level with her.

 “Ok, I forgive you,” Amelia smiled back at John before leaning in to hug him. John wrapped his arms around Amelia, lifting her up from the ground and throwing her over his shoulder. Amelia laughed and yelled as John rushed into the kitchen with her still hanging over his back.

 “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. She just had ice cream,” a familiar voice called from the kitchen as you slowly tried to make your way in. 

 “Yeah, I’m all for babysitting but vomit is where I draw the line,” another voice spoke as you finally rounded the corner into the kitchen. You saw the last of the words fall from Roger’s lips as you approached the counter. Brian stood nearby, holding his son James in his arms and rocking him gently back and forth.

 “Alright, alright, Johnny put her down before she throws up,” you hobbled over to the counter, placing your elbow down on it as Roger’s hand came up to rub your back. John put Amelia down, his breath had grown heavy and Amelia was still engaged in a fit of giggles. “How are you feeling Rog? Dom is due any day now, right? You’re going to be a dad just like these two dorks,” you pointed your thumb in the direction of John and Brian who now stood next to each other. Brian’s mouth opened wide in fake shock while Deaky just kept on smiling.

 “She’s doing alright. I can tell she’s getting close though. But the real question is, how are you? You’re just as pregnant as Dom is,” Roger patted you on the back once more before removing his hand altogether.

 “I’m doing fine. It’s a little harder to get around these days, but overall I’m good,” you smiled up at him as Roger nodded at you, showing that he understood. It was then that Freddie burst through the front door, making as much noise as possible. 

 “Hello, loves. Sorry for being late. We’re still going over some of the new songs, right?” Freddie asked, his eyes darting around the circle crowded over the kitchen counter.

 “Of course, Fred,” Brian spoke in a hushed tone to keep James from waking up in his arms. He took James upstairs so that he could nap in peace before the four of them moved over to the living room and positioned themselves around the coffee table as they looked at some of the new lyrics and music sheets. Amelia dragged you over to the corner in the living room that was filled with her toys. She pulled out one doll for you and another for herself. You held it in your hand, with a small smile on your lips.

 Just then, you heard the boys get louder in their discussion of music and your head turned in their direction. Your gaze drifted onto them, causing you to stop for a minute and take a good look at them. They had changed so much, new wrinkles, different hair, clothing styles, all of it. Hell, even you had changed. Everything was so different now than it used to be. They were just boys when you met them, but now they were men. 

 Your eyes scanned over them, lingering on John as he sat perched on the edge of the sofa. As if he could feel your gaze aimed at him, John looked up and met your eyes. He gave you a soft, loving smile. He mouthed that he loved you and your heart flipped in your chest, the same way it always did when he said that. You smiled back at him, returning your attention to your daughter sitting in front of you. Things had changed, and you were glad that they did.

 Taglist: @Retromusicsalad @bohemiansweede​ @deaconsroger @queen-crue​ @ohtheseboysilove​ @queeniesteiins @kemeryyyy @onceuponadetectivedemigod​ @ixchel-9275​ @rogmeddows​ @ziggymay​ @deakysmisfire​ @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives​ @briarrose26​ @greatdinosaursalad​ @queendeakyy​ @killer-qu33n-of-disaster​ @mi55chanandlerbong​ @rogertaylorseyelashes​

[talltalesandbedtimestories]

Temporary Ideal (Part 1)

The Beach FanFic (Leonardo DiCaprio) - Written decades ago. (uff!) Can find in entirety on Wattpad. May add additional parts if it ever gets some likes/reblogs.

~~~~~

The shade from the palm made the dampness of the air around me more palpable.  I could feel the condensation on my arms, face and lips.  I shivered in the early dawn, waiting for him.  Waiting and thinking.  This spot, near Bugs’ bridge, was the unofficial entrance to the village. It was where I had laid eyes on him for the first time.  I remembered it clearly, like it was yesterday.  Recalling that moment, surrounded by the soft rays of a new day, it was hard to believe it had been six months since the “Three Musketeers” had backpacked into our community.

~~~~~

It happened right after Vera had thrown me the last of the bed sheets.  I had taken the worn nub of the last remains of Unhygenix’s homemade soap, and rubbed it lazily against the sheet draped over the granite slab.  I hated laundry duty.  Even though Vera moaned and groaned when we had the garden shift, I would gladly trade in my pruned fingers for dirt strewn ones.  There was the quiet that was only disrupted by the buzz of an insect or the occasional tears of dead leaves. The hope experienced planting seeds for the new crop. Picking the ripe fruit and sneaking a taste of one, delicious pear before the rest of the community.  My innate green thumb surprised me.  I wouldn’t have looked twice at a cornfield or row of tomato plants in my “other” life. Here, though, things were different.

“Oh… my… God!”  Vera’s faux valley girl inflection had taken over for a moment.  Alarmed, I froze, staring down at the water flowing past my bare thighs.  The last time Vera had voiced that exclamation while doing the wash had been when she had a spotted eel wrapped around her calf.  We never were sure if the eel was very friendly, very horny or very tired of intruders in that particular spot of the lagoon.  She had grabbed that sucker and smashed it against a rock like a bullwhip.  Poor thing never knew what hit him, or her, or it.  I made a mental note never to sneak up on Vera after that.

“What?”  My focus shifted to Vera’s line of sight, which hadn’t been the water.  My mouth opened slightly, feeling the dryness that had suddenly appeared.  I’m sure everyone in the community had the same feeling at that moment.  There they were, walking over the bridge, entering our territory.  Keaty led the way.  His tour of duty by the waterfall had turned out to be the most eventful one in two years.

“Three.”  Vera waded toward the bridge.  My mind had quickly processed the total.  My attention was all on the person following six steps behind Keaty.  I could tell immediately that he was American.  I’m not sure what gave him away first, but the quick nod of recognition he gave Vera solidified it.

American.  Even though I felt fear and uncertainty at their presence, I still smiled.  There was another one of us.  Four now.  And there was another reason I was smiling.  That flight of butterflies that had remained dormant in my stomach for what now seemed like an eternity, was performing aerials I couldn’t remember ever experiencing.  It may have just boiled down to the fact that there was new meat.  Available meat.  It was obvious, the solitary way he strode ahead of the other man and woman, that he was alone.

He was tan, lean and long.  Everything about him screamed California boy, kissed by the sun from his golden-brown strands to the shine of his skin.  He tightly gripped the end of what looked like a trash bag over his right shoulder, eyes darting this way and that, taking in the entirety of the environment.  He passed over me as quickly as he had everyone else.  I was too far away to make out the color of his eyes, but his stare was intense enough for me to feel he meant business.  They hadn’t just stumbled across our paradise.  This had been a quest.  And I was pretty sure he was the one who had been in charge for most of it.

Vera looked over to me after they had passed.  “Let’s hurry this shit up and get our asses back to the longhouse.  I don’t want to miss Sal’s face when she sees this.”  I nodded in agreement, and then shook my head at the thought of Sal’s expression. I hoped I would be able to get some prime seating.

~~~~~ 

We slipped in after the impromptu “family meeting” had already taken place.

Sophie stood in the darkened corner and motioned quickly to both of us as soon as we came in.  We huddled together for catch up.

“They have a map.”  Sophie nodded her head toward the middle of the longhouse, where the majority now congregated.  Sal was in full mother-hen mode.  I spotted the paper in her hand.

“To the beach?”  Vera asked and Sophie nodded.  My eyes canvassed the area.  I saw the back of blonde boy.  “Who are they?”  Vera questioned again.

“The couple is French.”  I looked over at Sophie in time to see a slight smile.  It would be an addition to the already large French line.  “Etienne and Francoise.  The other one is Richard.  An American.”

Richard.  I let the name dance in my head a few times, unable to hide the vindication that my guess to his nationality had been correct.  I didn’t need to hear any more from Sophie.  I walked around the circle, just outside the radar of being noticed.  Blending into the background had always been my best skill and too much was going on for anyone to pay attention to me anyway.  They were all fixated on the visitors.  I could spot rage on some faces, fear on others.  But Sal would not let these new arrivals leave.  I had known her long enough to realize that fact.

I sat on my bunk thankful Richard was on the exact opposite end.  My legs crossed.  I could hear the buzz of conversation around me.  All of my senses besides sight had dulled, been drowned out, by the activity occupying me.  Taking in every aspect of this man was now top priority.  Boyishness graced his face, but the dominance of the man emerging was putting up a fierce battle with that appearance.  In his 20s definitely, but as to which end of the scale he tipped closer to was still up in the air.  The beauty and symmetry of his face elicited one word into my mind.  Perfect.  The shadows of late afternoon, however, didn’t allow a peek at his eye color.  The somber, stuffy atmosphere of the hut matched the mood of its inhabitants.

My hearing tuned in at the sound of his voice, answering a question from Sal.  I let the pitch and tone of his words flow inside.  Even his words felt right to my ears.  “It was on my hotel door one morning.  I’d had this weird conversation with a guy staying next door to me the night before.  He kept talking about this beach.  So when I found the map, I figured it was from him.  The guy who drew it…”

“Daffy.”  Sal finished his sentence for him.  The name jarred memories and haunting images of the rift that formed right before Daffy had left the island.  The friction between Daffy, Sal and Bugs had become unbearable.  I wanted to ask about Daffy, but the question only screamed inside my mind.  There would be no disruptions while class was in session, at least not from the well-behaved students.

“Yeah, he’s dead.”  My mouth dropped open, hearing that cold, factual sentence from Richard.  That sentence did not come from one who had spent countless nights listening to Daffy’s stories around the fire.  Not one who had ventured back with him to the mainland at least a dozen times for rice runs.  And not one who had seen the love for something pure turn into an obsession to protect it.  I tried to let the realization of Daffy’s death sink in, but I knew it would take forever to finalize it.  I saw the whispers and stunned expressions take over the group.

Someone, I think Dale, exclaimed, “No way!”

Richard continued.  “Yeah, he cut his wrists open in a hotel room on the Ko Sahn Road.”

Gregorio stared in horror at Richard.  “You have seen this?”

“Well, I came afterwards.”  There was no easy way to break this kind of news to a family.  It was like a police officer knocking at a son’s door in the middle of the night to tell him his parents had been killed in a car accident.  Empathy is a hard feeling to fake.  You just don’t know until you have been there.  I guessed Richard had yet to experience a close death. 

“Well, that’s sad news.  He was one of the founders of our community.”  I spotted Vera, still in the corner with Sophie, listening to Sal.  I hoped she had sense enough to hold her tongue.

“Oh.”  Richard nodded his head slightly.

“But he became depressed.”  There had been a clearing of the throat, somewhere from the crowd, after Sal’s addition.  My stomach tensed up.  It was amazing how fast people forgot all the good.  Most of the bad feelings toward Daffy were present because of Sal’s talks and speeches since he had left.  How he had become a liability, an acceptable loss for the protection of our community.   

I saw Richard survey the reaction quickly.  He had felt the bad blood and my eyes narrowed as I watched him try and feed off of it.  “The police didn’t know what to do with the body so I guess they’re going to like incinerate him or something.”  His smile and sudden laugh felt forced, out of place.  He immediately realized his mistake, turning his head to the side to avoid the eyes of the community.  He scratched the back of his head.

Sal took no note of it.  I knew she was concerned with only one thing.  “Do you think he gave a map to anybody else?”

Richard stared at her for a second, shaking his head in doubt.  “Ah, no… I don’t think so.”  I noticed relief on his face, thankful that the attention had been shifted from his foot-in-mouth display.

She looked at Etienne, Francoise and Richard, one by one.  “And you, have you shown this map to anybody?”

They answered one after the other.  “No.”

“Good.”  She handed the open map to Richard.  I felt another example coming on.  She grabbed Bugs’ lighter and smiled, “We value our secrecy.”  She lighted the map at the bottom as Richard held it.  I heard the clapping begin.  With that, our new members had been baptized.

~~~~~  

After dinner, the nightly ritual of bedtime began for all in the longhouse. The newly arrived were given their sleep locations. I quietly prayed to whatever Thai god had whispered in Sal’s ear and placed him an easy glance across the floor from me. It was a beautiful change of scenery.

Keaty was filling him in on how things ran daily in the hut when Sonja stood up. I sighed. It was a language class tonight. She politely requested everyone’s attention and began her translation prompt.

“Listen up, everybody.” Her blonde bob shook a bit as she scanned the room. Linguistic learning was mainly someone reciting a line in English – which everyone on the island spoke – and expecting a translation in the teacher’s native tongue. In Sonja’s case, we’d be regurgitating the phrase in Croation. I always cursed Sal when it was time for this, as it had been her bright idea to begin this ages ago.  I enjoyed poetry night so much more. I didn’t have to worry about getting called on to speak in front of the class.

“OK. Tomorrow I will travel for many miles on a bicycle.” She nodded her head towards the right of the hut. “Um, Vicki.”

Sitting just off to Richard’s side, Vick stopped in mid hit. I was curious if she had spoken to Richard much upon his arrival. She was a California girl. If my assumptions about where he was from were right, they might have a lot to talk about. She took just a second to contain her smoke before beginning. “Uh, sutra cu potovati mnogo milja bicicklom.”

I watched Richard listen intently before looking to Sonja to see how well Vicki had done. “Great, very good.” Sonja went on to her next victim. Though I should have been paying attention in case I was called, I was spending more time studying Richard.

After Helene, it was Keaty’s turn. In typical fashion, he stood up proudly. “All right. It’s far too easy, though.” With little effort, the words flowed freely out of his mouth. Cockily, he continued the rant. From what I could tell, his bicycle ride was going to be in the park after he ate a big breakfast. I shook my head, laughing at his pompous behavior as the rest of the group jeered. They eventually drowned him out. “There’s more, you know.” Before he sat down he took over Sonja’s duty and called out the next name. “Richard!”

There was an immediate hush. The newbie looked around and cleared his throat. To all listening, he choked out the words in a broken fashion; but, still surprisingly correct. Keaty yelled out in admiration, “Richard, you’re represented, man!” As was customary, the rest of the community applauded in sign language with their hands shaking while raised above their heads. I joined in on the compliment.

Richard grinned from ear to ear as he looked around the room. I felt that hiccup in my chest again as his eyes fell on me for a brief second. His eyes sparkled in the lantern lights. It was time to curse myself for being such a sucker for blue eyes.

~~~~~  

Six months later, he was still only someone I studied from afar.  There was the occasional friendly or duty-related chit-chat.  But he had assimilated quickly, making a name for himself in the process.  He still had a while to go, still only the second-string quarterback of the island.  I, on the other hand, was hardly in the running for head cheerleader or homecoming queen. 

He had become chummy with Keaty.  I had gotten most of my information on Richard through him.  The one thing I didn’t need explained to me was the crush he had on Francoise, the French girl that had accompanied him on the journey.  I wondered if Etienne’s ignorance to his friend’s feelings about his girlfriend was simply a show.  The looks Richard gave Francoise were just a bit too long.  I hoped my crush was not as obvious to everyone else.

“Beth!”  Keaty strode up beside me on the way back from a day of tilling in the garden.

“What’s up?”

“Have a question for you, love.”  I always grinned when he said that.

“Shoot.”

Always the gentleman, he took my shovel, and leaned it against his right shoulder as we walked.

“Triple A’s.  In short supply.  Got any I can borrow?”

“God, Keaty, what have you been doing with them lately?”

“Not me only, Richard’s been hogging my GameBoy as well.  We’re thinking of starting our own group.  VGAA.”  I stared at him curiously.  He smiled explaining, “Video Game Addicts Anonymous.” 

I laughed, shaking my head.  “Well, I don’t know if I should be a facilitator then, supplying you with the means to continue this addiction.”

“Ah, but the first step on the road to recovery is admission, which I’ve already done.  Can’t stop cold turkey, right?”

“I’ll have some for you after dinner.”

“Thanks, Beth.  You are a life saver, have I told you that?”

I nodded.

“Well, you are.  I’m not the only one that knows it, love.”

“Enough sucking up, I already said I would give them to you.”

“Right.  How about trying a game of cricket with me tomorrow then?”

“That’s OK, I prefer watching.”

“I’ve noticed.”  I slapped his arm after that comment.

“Don’t hit me over the truth.”  We both laughed, approaching the clearing to the beach.  I didn’t spot Richard until Keaty had called over to him.  “Richard, my man, we are back in business!”

Richard turned upon hearing his name.  He sat on the beach with Christo and his fishing spear in hand.  He nodded, smiling.  “What Keaty!?”

“Got our dealer right here!”  He placed his free hand over my shoulder.  “Kong competition tonight!” 

I felt myself blush with his attention on me. “Cool!  Thanks Beth!” He waved over to the both of us.

I nodded and freed myself from Keaty’s grasp and grabbed the shovel back. “Gotta wash up, Keaty.”

~~~~~

I’d settled down in my bunk after a satisfying meal of rice and catfish, accompanied by an unexpected salad.  I thought about the crop we would be working on the next day and couldn’t wait for the tomatoes to ripen.  They’d be a great addition to Unhygenix’s menu. 

I searched in my satchel for the book of poetry by Thoreau.

“Beth?”

My eyes looked up to find Richard towering above me.

“Yeah?”  I smiled despite myself.

He bent at the knees, lowering himself to my eye level.  “Don’t mean to be a pain, but Keaty and I,” I stared into his blue eyes a bit longer than I should have.

“Oh!”  I mentally slapped my forehead.  “The batteries.”  He smiled, nodding.  “Sorry, I forgot all about it.”

“No problem, just didn’t know how much longer Keaty and I could last before we experience withdrawal symptoms.”  He chuckled, leaning his forearms against his knees.

I laughed, reaching over to my cigar box, my little treasure chest.  “What are some of the symptoms?” 

I turned back to see him hunched over, eyes wide, with his thumbs rapidly pressing invisible buttons.  “Nothing too severe.”  He started twitching his head.  He continued the act.  “Jump…  Right… Punch”.  I waved four batteries in front of his face, grinning.  He relaxed immediately, opening a palm for the alkaline gems to drop inside of.  “Whew, thanks.”  He winked, and then smiled, as his hand clutched them tightly.  “Could have gotten ugly.”

“Glad I could fix you up.”

“I owe you.”

I smiled, thinking of a few ways he could pay me back.  “Don’t worry about it.”

“Night.”

“Good Night, Richard.”

I watched him stand up and turn, ready to make his way over to Keaty’s corner.  I was about to resume the search for my book when I saw him turn back out of the corner of my eye.  “Beth?”

“Uh-huh?”

“I was wondering… well,” he knelt down once again, “if you could help me with something?”

I nodded.

He looked around, I guessed to make sure no one was paying close attention.  I noticed him lingering his gaze in Sal’s direction before continuing, slightly above a whisper this time.  “It’s about Daffy.” 

It had been months since I had heard anyone utter his name.  “Daffy?”

He nodded.  “It’s just that… ever since we came here, I’ve had a lot of questions about him.  I mean he’s the reason we’re here.  But, no one talks about him.  I’ve asked Sal once, and Keaty a few times, but they just clam up or change the subject.  The only thing I got out of Keaty was that you were close to him.”

“I guess you could say that.”

“Could you tell me something about him then?  Tomorrow maybe?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll meet up with you after fishing duty.”

“OK.”  I smiled.

“Thanks.”

“Good night.  Again.”  He smiled, walked off.  I lay back, placing my hand under my pillow.  That’s where Thoreau turned out to be hiding.  I pulled the worn book out, inspecting it.  Thoughts of curling up with a few of his verses were now long gone.  I had someone else to dream about.

[violetnuisance]

Wake Up

pairing: Sal Fisher/Larry Johnson

rating: T

words: 3,224

summary: Sal rambles to Larry while the brunet’s in a coma.

a/n: Hi, my Sally Face discord server has monthly art/writing challenges. July’s theme was “Hospital,” so this is my submission. Here’s the link to the server: https://discord.gg/kYtz72e

Sal stood awkward, one hand clasped around the bouquet of peonies he had spray painted black while the other hand tightly gripped a “Get Well Soon!” card, no doubt creasing it. His mind felt numb as he stood and stared at his best friend who laid unconscious in the hospital bed that dominated the tiny room. Larry had definitely seen his better days. His hair was unkempt, sticking up every which way, and the dark circles underneath his eyes only seemed to worsen as his stay at the hospital progressed, having lasted two weeks already. Despite the doctors and nurses reassuring a stressed Lisa and Sal that Larry was in stable condition and would most likely make a swell recovery, the bluenet was still worried. Every day that passed that Johnson didn’t wake up, his stress only skyrocketed.

 What if Larry had severe brain damage that the doctors didn't notice? What if he woke up in a vegetative state? What if he didn’t wake up?

Sal tried to shake the thoughts and padded over to the small nightstand beside Larry’s bed. An array of wilted flowers and still-enveloped cards littered the desk. Sal tried not to think about how most of the bouquets would be dead by the time Larry woke up as he set his own down. The falsely black flowers stood out against the pink ones everyone else had left, and Sal felt a sort of sick satisfaction. Larry had told him about how someone needed to genetically engineer a solid black flower. He couldn’t remember the context of the conversation, but he remembered how much they had laughed about it. A smile threatened to tug at his lips from beneath his prosthetic, but the urge was quickly destroyed. He shouldn’t have left Larry alone that night.

Sal laid on his stomach on the treehouse’s splintered floor, a lit cigarette between his lips and his prosthetic at his side. Larry laid on his back beside him, shirt pushed up, exposing his stomach, as he stretched. The sun outside was quickly setting, but that didn’t mean Sal couldn’t still make out a trail of soft brown hair that disappeared beneath the waistband of the other’s jeans in the treehouse’s dimness. The sight made him itch, curiosity lighting him ablaze. He smushed the notion quickly forming in his head down and took the cigarette from his lips, blowing a trail of smoke. Larry looked at him, a dopey grin on his face. Something had piqued the brunet’s interest, and he rolled onto his side, facing Sal.

“We should shotgun, baby blue,” Larry laughed, voice airy and light. Sal rolled his good eye at him. 

“No one shotguns cigarette smoke,” Sal stated. His fingers brought the stick back up to his mouth. Over the years, he had become a master at hiding his reactions from Larry’s random quips. The brunet had the worst habit of cracking jokes that made Sal’s heart pitter-patter pathetically in his chest. Still, at the thought of Larry’s lips on his, he could feel the tips of his ears growing warm. Before the brunet could notice the pink tint, Sal turned his head and blew smoke into the other’s face. The bluenet let out a snort as Larry wrinkled his nose in slight disgust. “You act like you don’t smoke a pack a day.”

“Doesn’t mean the smell has grown on me,” Larry rebuffed, rubbing the back of his hand across his nose. Sal shook his head, bangs bouncing against his forehead.

“Are you trying to tell me I stink?” Larry laughed again, and the sound rumbled through Sal’s chest. He had always been especially fond of his friend’s voice, and Larry’s laughter always caused a weird sense of nostalgia to fall over him, like he was returning home after exploring the world for years. The brunet took the cigarette from Sal while he was lost in thought.

 “Don’t worry, we can stink together,” Larry assured, a wolfish grin on his face. Sal watched silently as Larry placed the cigarette between his lips before sucking gently. The bluenet should’ve seen the next action coming, but he really hadn’t.

“Oh, c’mon dude,” Sal groaned as Larry blew the smoke into his face. He waved a hand around dramatically, trying to clear the vapor. “You’re such a… such a rat!”

“Your vernacular never ceases to astound me, bluebird,” Larry mocked, passing the cigarette back to Sal. Sal took it in hand, watching in slight interest as Larry sat up before standing and walked over to the mini fridge he had hooked up. The shorter male’s interest turned to dread as his lanky friend pulled out a bottle, caramel liquid sloshing inside of it. 

“I thought you were stopping that,” Sal complained, the words pushing out automatically. His eyes narrowed as Larry used the end of his shirt to help pop the cap off the bottle. Immediately, the sickening cat-pee smell of beer assaulted Sal’s senses.

“I said I’d try to stop, and I did try,” Larry corrected before bringing the bottle to his lips. Sal cringed as he watched the other’s adam’s apple bob, swallowing the drink down. The shorter male grimaced and reached for his prosthetic. The brunet watched as Sal stubbed the cigarette out against the floor, leaving a burn mark. Larry had chastised him about it multiple times before, but Sal didn’t care at the moment. “Where are you going?”

Sal stared at Larry as he clasped his straps into place at the back of his head. “You know how I feel about your drinking problem,” he chastised, moving to his feet.

The bluenet had never been a fan of alcohol. Before his mom had passed, both of his grandparents on his dad’s side had been raging alcoholics. His mom wouldn’t let them see their grandkid unless they tried to recover. They chose the bottle. And then, after his mom’s death, his father had fallen into the same state. He drank his days away until Sal found him passed out on the floor from alcohol poisoning. After a few days in the hospital, his dad sobered up. As soon as they got back home, they both equipped themselves with plastic trash bags and threw out all the alcohol. Sal thought that would be the last he’d ever have to see of alcoholism, but now Larry was running down the same reckless path. The bluenet didn’t know why, and the other refused to open up to him.

“It’s not a problem-”

“Yes it is, Larry! How do you not see that?” Sal was fuming, his hands balled into fists at his sides. The brunet stood stiff, surprised by the emotional outburst. “There’s a difference between responsible drinking and alcoholism. And you, my friend, crossed that boundary months ago.” Sal’s voice came out quieter now, a tremble in his tone. He didn’t know if he was angry or despairful, but he knew the tears would start flowing either way if he didn’t leave. 

By god, he had hoped Larry would stop him on the way out, but the brunet hadn’t, and the next morning Sal got a phone call from Lisa, explaining that her son had gone into an alcohol poisoning induced coma.

Larry’s chest rose and fell with his breaths, and Sal wished the brunet would crack his eyes open and offer a coy smile, saying this was some prank all along. Of course, nothing of the sort happened. Sal’s gaze traveled to the plastic chair sitting at the bed’s side. Lisa had been sitting there before Sal came in, talking to the unresponsive male. Apparently the nurses had told her that stimulating Larry’s main senses could help rouse him, so the woman had done everything in the book. She rambled to him about her day every time she visited after work, constantly held his hand and kissed his cheek every time she left, and she had even brought and lit candles in the room from their apartment. Before she had given Sal privacy with Larry, she urged him to talk to the brunet. Sal had denied the notion, saying he wouldn’t stay that long, but now he felt himself sitting down in the uncomfortable chair.

For a moment, he just sat, not knowing what to say. But soon enough, the words flowed smoothly. “You’re such an idiot,” Sal whispered, feeling uncomfortable breaking the silence. He glanced around, half expecting a nurse to come in and chastise him for being loud. When that didn’t happen, he continued. “I hate to say ‘I told you so,’ but I told you so. I read you an online article of this exact thing happening. My dad’s binge drinking wasn't even this bad. God, I can’t believe you cut off the oxygen flow to your brain, and still, somehow, survived getting severe brain damage. Lisa thought you were dead when she found you!”

Sal felt his cheeks wetten as he continued to rant, everything surging up at once. His eyes glanced warily around the room. The only window was a small one in the door. Taking a chance, Sal took off his prosthetic and set it in his lap. He hated how the material would cling to his skin when he was sweating or crying. “I don’t know what happened to you. You were obviously using it as some sort of coping mechanism, but I have no idea what for. You became so closed off, and you scared me. I thought you would eventually discard me. I guess you’re still going to disappear from my life for at least a month or two. You’re going to a rehabilitation center after you wake up,” Sal paused, voice growing meek, “God, please wake up.”

Once more, silence invaded the room. Sal blinked, trying to clear his vision from where it had grown blurry from tears. He could still feel a few wet trails rolling down his face, but he felt better. Most of the torrent had been released. 

When he could see again, his gaze trailed to Larry’s hand. It laid at the brunet’s side, black nail polish mostly chipped off. Sal took in into his hand without thinking. He guided Larry’s fingers to interlock with his own. “Let’s make a deal. I’ll tell you a secret right now, and you'll wake up and tell me why you were so committed to destroying your life.” Sal paused. Despite Larry not being able to hear him, he still felt like he was putting his heart on the line. Both of his hands clasped at Larry’s hand, grounding himself.

 “I really, really like you Johnson. Don’t let that inflate your already bursting ego because you absolutely don't deserve the compliment right now. But everytime you laugh and show off that stupid ass toothgap, I want to punch you because in those moments I just want to lean over and kiss you, and I know I can’t. Maybe if you wake up, we can try shotgunning cigarette smoke before you leave even though that’s the most idiotic idea you’ve ever come up with,” Sal laughed before bringing Larry’s hand up to his mouth and pressing a kiss to the back of the brunet’s hand. “If you can’t wake up for yourself, please wake up for me and Lisa.”

It was the next day when Larry came to. Sal had been getting ready to shower when Lisa called him. He had been ready to come right away, grime and all, but Lisa stopped him. Apparently Larry was in a minimally conscious state. He’d wake up for a few minutes, confused as to where he was, and then pass out again. The grogginess would most likely wear off after a few days, and Lisa promised to call him again when her son was alert enough to carry out a conversation with someone.

The two day wait between the initial phone call and the second were absolute Hell to Sal. Even his father had picked up on his nervous energy, ordering a pizza and renting a movie the first night to help Sal calm down. The second night was when Lisa called again, and Sal made it to the hospital in record time.

When he arrived, he was delighted to find out that Larry was still in tact. There would be no outstanding injuries except for a headache. However, he couldn't barge in and tackle Larry right away because Lisa was still visiting him, so Sal sat in the waiting room, legs bouncing. He could’ve cried in relief when Lisa walked into the room, twenty minutes later. He made himself wait and speak to the woman before making a break for it.

“Sorry for taking so long, but I have the Mom Privilege to get to see my son first,” Lisa joked, a warm smile on her face. Sal stood upon the greeting, his body swaying from side to side in anticipation. “But I can assure you he’s excited to see you. Yesterday, every time he woke up, he always mentioned your name. Just try not to over excite him.”

“Yes ma’am, I’ll try my best.” Lisa’s smile broadened before she pulled Sal into a hug.

“I’ve told you, just call me Lisa,” she chastised before breaking the embrace. However, her hands still gripped Sal’s shoulders. “Oh, I almost forgot to tell you! Larry remembers what was said to him during his coma. He doesn’t remember every conversation explicitly, but he definitely remembers the gist of everything. I hope you didn’t insult him while you visited him the other day.”

Sal was too excited for Lisa’s words to sink in. He just mumbled out a quick, “oh, okay,” before taking off to Larry’s room. Lisa had left the door open upon her exit, so the blunet could just slip right in and close it behind him. As soon as the door shut, Larry perked, sitting up. 

“Fisher!” Larry’s hair was an absolute bird’s nest, hair enveloping his head like a lion’s mane. His eyes were also red, an indicator that he had been crying recently. Sal supposed Lisa’s talk with him couldn't have been entirely sunshine and rainbows. He, too, was sure that he’d berate Larry later, but he was too happy to see that his friend was alive and well to do it right away.

“Larry!” Sal ignored Lisa’s desire to not over excite Larry for the time being and barreled halfway over the bed’s railing, enveloping the other in a hug. The brunet let out a surprised chuckle before wrapping his arms around Sal.

“If you pushed yourself any further onto here, you’d practically be laying on the bed with me,” Larry teased, his grip around Sal tightening.

“Shut up, I missed you, you oaf,” Sal mumbled, voice muffled by his prosthetic, and the fact that his face was pressed into Larry’s shoulder. “Don’t you ever scare us like that again!”

Larry didn’t say anything at the remark, and Sal didn't press. He was content to just hug the other for awhile. However, the cramped position wasn’t allowing him to breathe all that great through his prosthetic, so he pulled away. Larry stared hard at him as he dug his fingers beneath the prosthetic’s surface, pulling it away from his skin a little to get some fresh air. “You should just take it off,” Larry advised.

Sal looked from him and then back to the door’s window. “But someone could see,” he opposed. He had already risked it once, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to do that again.

“I highly doubt it. Your back’s to the window, and I could tell you if someone was coming in,” Larry countered, a sudden fierceness to his voice. Sal hesitated. “I mean, only if you want to. You obviously don't have to.”

There was a second more of hesitance before Sal decided it'd be okay to shed the prosthetic. Larry looked at him like a giddy puppy as he undid the straps and set the device down on the table. The brunet held his arms out for a hug again, and Sal couldn't help the small smile that graced his features. “You’re such an idiot,” Sal quipped, holding his own arms out.

“I know,” Larry smirked as Sal leaned over the bed again. Instead of the hug the blunet was expecting, the other grabbed his forearms and pulled him down closer, planting their lips together. Sal jerked back as if electrocuted. 

“What-”

“Did Mom not tell you?” Larry’s gaze was searching, hands still clasping onto Sal’s arms. Sal shook his head, confusion etched onto his face. “That I could hear you when you talked to me?”

“Oh,” Sal simply responded. Lisa had told him that, but he had been too dense to realize what exactly that entailed. As it dawned on him, he could feel a blush travelling up his neck.

“Oh,” Larry mocked, over exaggerating his facial features. Sal glared at him, and the idiot had the audacity to grin, tip of his tongue poking out from between his teeth. “I can’t believe baby blue has a crush on me! When were you going to tell me?”

“Oh, shut up,” Sal complained, the tips of his ears a vibrant red. He felt like he was back in high school, blushing every time Ash happened to look in his direction. He didn’t appreciate it.

“Make me,” Larry teased back, bushy eyebrows wagging. He looked from Larry’s eyes to his lips and then back up again. He still needed two things confirmed.

“You like me?” Larry rolled his eyes at the first inquiry, and Sal swallowed the urge to throttle him.

“I wouldn’t be offering to kiss you if I didn’t,” he answered, tone matter-of-fact. Sal couldn’t help but smile before dampening the mood with the next question.

“You’re going to actually try this time, right? You’re going to try in rehab, right? I can’t have you having another episode and actually lose you,” Sal whispered. Larry faltered, tongue dampening his chapped lips. The bluenet could see the other’s eyes dampen again, not quite shedding tears, but he needed to know. 

“Yes, I promise,” Larry replied. His hands tightened around Sal’s arms, trying to prove his earnesty. “Now can I have my kiss?”

Sal nodded, leaning down again. Larry met him in the middle and gently pressed their lips together. It was just a quick peck before they pulled away, but then the brunet had Sal by the collar of his shirt, dragging him in for another kiss. The bluenet let him, his own hands coming to rest against the sides of Larry’s face. Sal had always thought that if the chance of Larry touching him- kissing him -ever came up, the sensation would be overbearing and set him alight. However, the action just sent a welcome warmth through his body, much like the same feeling he got when listening to Larry laugh.

“We have to do that more often,” Larry murmured as they pulled away, eyelashes fluttering and cheeks red. Sal thought it was cruel someone could be so beautiful. “But when are we going to shotgun cigarette smoke? You did say we could do that if I woke up.”

The mood was effectively broken. “Oh god, I hate you,” Sal whined, causing Larry to chuckle.

“I love you too, Sally Face.”

[chicagocryptid]

'I WATCHED YOU WIN AN EATING CONTEST THEN THROW UP' THAT'S SO HORRIBLE I'M LAUGHING

County Fair // Maple x Chug

Warnings: None!

Summer in Nockfell was hot, but Maple and Ash would have braved hot coals every year to make it to the county fair. The week it was in town was always the most exciting for the entire gang, who all spent their allowance on tickets and fried oreos, but especially for the girls, who could get a free ride or two by winking at the operators, and who loved the excuse to beat the boys at every game they encountered along the dusty path.

It was just them that afternoon. Sal and Larry had been especially sore losers about a game of Balloon Darts, and had declined their invitation for a rematch, so Ash and Maple were walking arm in arm through the crowd, sharing a lemonade shake up and a handspun cotton candy the size of Maple's head. They were both windblown from the tilt-a-whirl, sweaty and a little smelly, but both of their faces hurt from smiling, and if you had asked either one of them, there would have been nowhere else they'd've preferred to be.

Maple groaned and pulled Ash to the side of the path so she could rub a blister forming under the strap of her flip flop. "I feel like we've already done everything," she said when she straightened up again. "We've done all the rides once and I promised myself I would wait to have a funnel cake until after we get dinner."

Ash hummed and tore a piece of cotton candy from the stick, popping it into her mouth. "We could try to break Larry's record on Zero Gravity?"

Maple's stomach lurched at the idea, and she leaned back against one of the makeshift buildings to hide her disgust. "Nah, if we did break it he'd say it was invalid 'cause he wasn't here. We'd just have to do it all over again."

"You're right," Ash sighed, joining Maple against the building. They were quiet for a stretch, watching people from all the over County pass them by. It was another reason they liked fair time so much; It was the only time Nockfell felt like a real town.

"Isn't there a show or something?" Maple asked, soothing closer to lean her head on Ash's bare shoulder. She could feel the heat that meant Ash would be calling her later to complain about not putting sunscreen on, though Maple had reminded her twice before they left. Ash craned her neck to try to get a view of one of the various events signs staked in front of booths and on corners.

"Looks like the only thing going on is an eating contest. It started at 2."

"What time is it now?"

Ash pulled her pager from her pocket and squinted to see it in the light. "2:04. I bet we can catch the end of it at least."

Maple shrugged off the wall and twisted her pinky finger around Ash's, pulling them back into the path. "Great, that means we'll get to see if anyone throws up."

To both of the girls' surprise, the eating contest seemed to be a hot commodity. Still, they were small enough to slip through the throng of people, and somehow, Maple figured out a way to get the two of them pressed against the platform. The sickly sweet smell of pie wafted over them, crusty and warm, and even though she was stuffed to the seams on fried foods, Maple's mouth watered. Most of the contestants were older, some in their twenties, some her dad's age, but there was one young boy second from the left she thought looked familiar.

Maple tapped Ash on the shoulder and gestured towards the boy, a round faced, green haired cherub, with his hat on backwards to keep the strays out of his eyes. "Do we know him?"

Ash used her free hand to shield her eyes against the sun. "Oh! We go to school with him. I think his name is... Chip? No. Ch... Chuck..." She rolled a few names around on her tongue, and then her face lit up. "Chug! That's it . I'm pretty sure he lives in the Apartments with the guys."

"Huh." Maple watched as he dove hands first into another pie, his fingers stained purple with blueberry ink. The pile next to him was smaller than the others, and she felt a little spark at the thought that he might win. Even Ash appeared to be interested, if her wide eyed gaze was any indication. He finished that pie, and then another, and then the crowd around them started to cheer louder. Maple realized Chug only had two pies left, and so she started to cheer too.

She hadn't been looking at anyone else's pile, but it must have been a close race, because as Chug took his last bite, a loud groan rippled through the audience. Chug had won, and although she hadn't meant to, Maple was screaming, jumping up and down on the hard dirt. Ash was right alongside her, caught up in the excitement. The judge came to Chug's side, lifted his hand above his head, and declared him the winner.

And then Chug's hair wasn't the only thing that was green. Maple must have been the only one who saw it, and it made her stop dead in her tracks. It flashed across his face for just a moment, and then Chug pushed back his chair, leaned over the side of the stage, and puked.

And puked.

And puked.

A rainbow of pie, every color imaginable. The crowd, in disgust, had begun to disappear, while the judge was standing behind Chug, looking horrified. A woman rushed on stage to rub the small of his back. When he regained his composure, only Ash and Maple remained.

"Should we go?" Ash asked, leaning close to Maple's ear and looking a little nauseous herself. But Maple's feet wouldn't let her move, although Chug was heading off the back of the stage into the other side of the fair.

"Uh..." His green head was threatening to disappear into the masses. "Why don't you grab us another lemonade and meet me at the Yo-yo?" She was already headed in Chug's direction, Ash calling after her.

"Okay, but you get the next one!"

She caught up with him a little ways away from the stage, in line for a shwarma stand. The woman, who Maple had assumed to be his mom, was no where in sight.

"Hey, Chug!" He turned, and looked rightfully surprised to see her moving in his direction. He had a chunk of thrown up pie on his t-shirt. She pretended not to notice.

"Maple, hi." He smiled when he saw her, kind of crooked and goofy. She liked it.

"I just uh... I just wanted to make sure you were..." The person in front of him stepped aside, and he moved into the window with two fingers up. "Are you really about to eat again?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah." He laughed a little."I wait all year for this truck. I'm not missing out."

"You literally just threw up 15 pies."

Chug blanched a little as he took his order. "You saw that huh?"

Maple flushed. "Unfortunately. I was actually trying to make sure you were feeling alright but... Well." She gestured at the paper boat in his hand. "Curried meat speaks for itself."

Chug laughed again, longer this time, and picked up one of the skewers. He held the other one out to Maple, and after a moment, she took it. Chug touched the end of their sticks together and made a clunking sound, and then took a bite.

"I see you around at school a lot, you know. I noticed your paintings at the art show last spring." Maple blushed again, busied herself with finding a good angle to bite her shwarma.

"They're okay."

"What?! They're amazing. I know Mrs. Doyle hung that one in the art room. I go in there to look at it sometimes." The sun shifted overhead, and Chug turned his hat forward. "You know sometimes they show off local work at The Bean. You should submit something."

Maple was so surprised that she nearly choked, and spent a good thirty seconds trying to dislodge the food in her throat. When she felt she could breathe again, she tried to wave him off. "Oh no. I'd be so intimated and I wouldn't even know what to paint..." Chug frowned, and then took another bite and lit up again.

"Why don't you come with me the next time they have one? Then you can see what you'd be up against." Maple heard her name cut through the air like a knife, but from further away. Ash just have gotten tired of waiting and was on the move. Maybe it was a blessing though, because her face was so warm she thought she might be getting a sunburn too.

"Okay, sure." Chug smiled wide, even more crooked, and knocked their skewers together again.

"Cool. It's a date."

Maple heard her name again, closer.

"I gotta go." She turned slightly in the direction of Ash's voice, then paused. "Oh, and Chug?"

He lifted his gaze toward her, taking another bite.

"When you ask me on our second date, make sure you don't still have vomit on your shirt?"