#(granted my replies are getting pretty long cos HE'S MISSING MY POINT)

[staying-elive]

I gotta stop getting into arguments with guys in youtube comment sections.

[theladyofdeath]

The Yellow Brick Road {Nessian}

an extension of Shelby and I’s, The Ranch. 

31 Days of Halloween: Day 6.

All installments co-written with @snelbz​

Based on a prompt sent in by anon: “ for halloween: the ranch au, sloan's first Halloween! 🤩 she and beau are dorothy and toto”

Autumn/Halloween 2020 {Collection}

Cassian sat with Beau on the couch as Nesta got Sloan ready upstairs. He was exhausted. It had been a long day, for both him and Beau, but he wasn’t about to miss Sloan’s first Halloween.

And, of course, neither would Beau. 

The big, sparkly, red ribbon around his neck confirmed that.

It wasn’t like Nesta Archeron to wave off one of her daughter’s firsts, but when he’d asked about it the week before, he was surprised how quickly her response was. “She’s being Dorothy and Beau is being Toto.”

He tried to explain to her that Beau was a ranch dog and you couldn’t throw a costume on a dog with a job. Sighing and looking down at him now, he patted the pup’s back. “I’m sorry, bud, I feel your pain.”

Because, of course, they were dressing up, too. Nesta had just told him she was going to be the Wicked Witch and he was heading back out to the pasture when she said, “Oh and you’ll be the Scarecrow!”

Cassian had paused at the door and turned back around, back to where his girls had been having tummy time in the living room.

“Why can’t I be the Tin Man?” He asked, leaning against the door frame.

She smiled. “Because you’ve already got the biggest heart I know.”

With a warm smile, he pressed a kiss to both of their foreheads and was back out to work. It was nearly thirty minutes later, when Cassian was getting ready to give one of the horses a brush down that he realized that the Scarecrow was missing a brain.

He had told Nesta as much later that night, where she distracted him from the fact every way she knew how, with kisses and wandering hands and loud, sensuous moans. 

Now, he shoved the hay back into his sleeves before sighing. “They’re taking forever.” 

Beau whined as he laid his chin on Cassian’s knee. 

“Nesta!” he called. “We’re going to be late!” 

“We’re coming! Getting Dorothy’s ruby red slippers on!” she called back, and was followed by a quiet, high-pitched, “Yes I am. Yes I am.” 

Sloan’s giggles filled the silence, and Beau was instantly on his feet, wagging his tail. 

“At least one of us is excited to walk around town like this,” Cassian muttered. 

He checked his phone, yet again. We’re all ready to head out. Where’s Dorothy?

Cassian huffed as he replied to Azriel. Taking twenty minutes to get on the ruby slippers, apparently.

His phone vibrated in his hand and he saw the response. Sounds about right. Let me know when you’re leaving.

He was just getting up off the couch, groaning and stretching when he heard steps coming from upstairs.

Nesta came around the corner, dressed as the wicked witch of the west. She was painted green, although her nose was still cute as a button and not long and pointed. She wore a long, black dress with a high skit, and laced long sleeves, as well as a tall, pointed witch hat.

And in her arms was the cutest little Dorothy that Cassian had ever seen.

In that moment, he didn’t even care that he was about to walk out into the world, dressed like a giant scarecrow.

“What do you think?” Nesta asked, turning in a slow circle.

“I think that I’ve never been so turned on by the wicked witch,” Cassian muttered, giving his wife a quick kiss. He was quickly turning to Sloan, who was smiling up at him. Cassian chuckled and kissed her forehead. “You’re so cute. Yes you are.”

She giggled, as she always did when her father gave her any attention.

“Alright, what’s left to do before we need to leave?” Nesta asked, looking around the room.

“Nothing,” Cassian said, grabbing Beau’s leash from where it hung by the door and Sloan’s diaper bag from its place on the floor. “Candy is already in the truck, as is the duffle bag with a change of clothes.” The hay in his sleeves and pants legs were already starting to itch and he told Nesta he’d be changing at some point throughout the evening. “So all you have to do is get that sexy, green butt in the truck and we’re ready to go.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “I didn’t paint my butt green, Cass.”

Cassian snorted. “It was just an expression, sweetheart… although, I am a little disappointed.”

She narrowed her eyes and jabbed him in the chest with her finger before bringing Sloan outside into the warm, late-afternoon sun. 

She was strapped into her car seat and they were all loaded up in a matter of minutes. 

As soon Cassian began driving out of the driveway, he caught Beau licking Sloan’s cheek in the rearview mirror.

Softest ranch dog in history.

At least, he was for Sloan.

But then again, they all were soft for that baby.

As soon as they pulled into the Square, they spotted the rest of their family. Granted, it was hard to miss Azriel painted silver and Elain’s massive, pink dress. It had all been Elain’s idea to begin with, and Nesta secretly thought that she wanted to be Glinda more than she wanted to see Sloan as Dorothy.

Azriel and Rhys made very convincing renditions of the Tin Man and the Cowardly Lion, and Nesta couldn’t wait to get pictures of her baby girl with her daddy and uncles. It was the cutest thing she’d ever seen. Feyre seemed to be enjoying her role as the Wizard, as well, if the long dramatic cape she kept sweeping around was any indication.

“Holy cuteness,” Elain beamed, as Nesta and Sloan came nearer to her. She reached for Sloan, and the baby was instantly reaching toward her aunt. “Az was worried she’d be scared of him.” 

Nesta looked over her shoulder where the silver-clad Azriel was robotically drinking a beer, thanks to the cardboard boxes that had been used to make his costume.

Elain had made all the costumes. 

And they were all done to perfection, Nesta’s slim-fitting dress included. It was the first “form-fitting” thing she had worn since Sloan was born, after months of insecurity, but for the first time, she was feeling pretty damn sexy.

Cassian thought so, too. She was completely aware of the way his eyes lingered on her assets. 

“Jury’s still out on that, he’s pretty terrifying on a normal day,” Cassian said as he walked by, carrying a folding table, two lawn chairs, the bag of candy, Sloan’s diaper bag, and her pack-n-play. In one trip. “Now instead of just ugly, he’s ugly and creepy.”

Sloan was batting at Elain’s poofy sleeve as the two women rolled their eyes, and Nesta was about to remind him that he was allowed to make two trips, but then Elain said, “Come look at how cute the truck bed is all set up,” taking Nesta’s hand.

Nesta had to admit, the back of Azriel’s truck, which had never been described as anything remotely close to cute, was. There was an adorable “yellow brick road” drawn in chalk, courtesy of Feyre, leading to and from the bed, which led to a tiny cardboard archway that read “Welcome to Oz!” The kids could walk under it and follow the yellow brick road to the bed of Azriel’s truck, where they’d be waiting to hand the kids candy. 

More and more people were beginning to show up, and the sun was slowly sinking, which meant that it was about to be showtime. Sloan was happily blowing raspberries and playing with Elain’s plastic wand when Beau hopped up on the bed of Azriel’s truck and laid down on the yellow brick road with a huff. 

“Aw, you look distressed, Beau,” Elain said, patting his head.

Azriel came up behind them. “Rhysand keeps terrorizing him in his lion costume.” 

Sloan took one look at Azriel and was reaching for Cassian.

Azriel sighed, exasperated. “She’s scared of the tinman but not of the scarecrow? I knew it.”

“I’m her dad, she expects me to be dressed as weird things,” Cassian assured him, taking his daughter into his arms. 

“She expects you to do a lot of weird things at this point,” Nesta said, giving a ruby red binky to Sloan and clipping it to her little plaid dress. “Dressing as a scarecrow ranks fairly low on the list, actually.”

“So you weren’t going to tell them about how Sloan started crying when she saw your after her nap?”

Nesta glared at her husband. “I was going to keep that fact to myself, yes.”

It was simultaneously the funniest and saddest thing Cassian had ever seen. He’d just gotten out of the shower and volunteered to wake Sloan up since Nesta was running late and wanted to make it there on time. So much for that. After the struggle of waking her up - the girl loved her sleep - and changing her diaper, he carried a sleepy Sloan back into their bedroom. As soon as Nesta came out of the bathroom, hair piled on top of her head, green makeup covering her entire face, Sloan had burst into tears. It took nearly twenty minutes to calm her down, and Nesta felt horrible about it. Cassian knew he should have felt bad about laughing as hard as he did, but he didn’t.

“One day, she’s going to watch this movie,” Feyre laughed, looking around at the somewhat ridiculous costumes, “and she’s going to be terrified and have no idea why. You’re causing internal trauma that she’s going to repress.”

“Everyone stop ruining my child’s first Halloween, damn it,” Nesta mumbled. “She looks precious, I look precious-.”

“I know I look precious,” Cassian cut in. 

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Can I have her basket?”

Cassian pursed his lips. “Uh, what basket?”

“Her...candy basket?” Nesta went on, exasperated. “The one that says Sloan in bright, sparkly, ruby letters?” 

Cassian cleared his throat. “Let me go check in the truck.” He left, hurrying away, fully-aware that her basket was not in there.

It was sitting on the kitchen table.

Where he’d set it about an hour before.

Time to play damage control.

Nearly five minutes had passed by the time he jogged back over to his family, something held behind his hands.

“There’s a reason he ended up as the Scarecrow,” Rhys muttered as Nesta crossed her arms across her chest.

“That doesn’t look like her basket,” Az crooned.

But Nesta was staring at the little “basket” he’d made out of a few clean shop towels and multicolored zip ties he’d braided together. It wasn’t near as cute as the basket she’d made for Sloan.

But it was sweet, nonetheless.

With a sigh, Nesta took the basket, pressed a kiss to Cassian’s cheek, and walked away with Sloan, without a word.

Cassian cleared his throat. “I honestly can’t tell if she’s mad or not.”

“She will be if you don’t hurry after her and take pictures,” Feyre muttered.

Cassian hauled ass, Beau chasing after him on his leash. 

They made their rounds, going to each trunk around the square and getting Sloan candy, which Cassian knew he’d be indulging in. She was the perfect trick-or-treater, giggling as those who were passing out candy said hello to her. She only cried once, at a man dressed up as Frankenstein’s monster. 

Cassian didn’t blame her, but after they got her quieted and happy, yet again, she was back to having the time of her little life. Especially once they got back to their little family and she got to see her Aunt Elain again. Those big, puffy sleeves were what kept her entertained until she finally fell asleep, just as the sun went down.

In the middle of the square, a giant bonfire was starting.

Cassian sighed as he placed Sloan comfortably in her car seat in the bed of Azriel’s truck. “Can I change now?”

Nesta eyed him, from his straw hat down to his boots. “I don’t know. I kind of like the look.” 

He rolled his eyes and started unbuttoning his shirt. “I’m changing.”

“Here?” Azriel asked, his eyelids heavy. “I know the point of Halloween is to scare people, but you’ll scar the children for life-.”

“No, asshole, I‘m going to the restrooms,” Cassian scowled, walking away as heaps of hay began to fall off his body, the more he unbuttoned his shirt. 

The three Archeron sisters had crawled up in the bed of the truck and were hovering over Sloan, who was snoring soundly with her lips hanging open. 

She looked just like Cassian when she slept.

Nesta fought off a yawn and Elain said, “Like mother, like daughter, yeah?”

She chuckled. “Haven't been sleeping well. It’s okay though.”

“Is it the nightmares again?”

Nesta blinked and looked up at her sister. The nightmares had plagued her for months. The scars that Tomas had left weren’t only the physical ones. But things had been better recently, she was waking up in a cold sweat less and less frequently, didn’t jump whenever a board creaked in the old house.

Shaking her head, Nesta smiled. “No, it’s not that. I’m pretty sure it’s that lumpy old mattress in the master bedroom.” She rubbed at her back. “Feels like I slept on rocks.”

“Maybe you should get a new mattress,” Elain said. “Stop spoiling your child for once and treat yourself.”

Nesta snorted. “Cassian and I can’t seem to agree on one. I miss being pregnant. He let me have whatever I wanted when I was pregnant. Now he only lets me have what I want...most of the time.”

“Poor Nesta,” Feyre teased.

She stuck her tongue out at her sister, who laughed quietly as sweet Sloan slept on, snuggled tightly in her blankets.

As Cassian made his way back from the truck, dressed in jeans, a flannel shirt, and, as always, his boots, Nesta caught his eye. He smiled and winked at her as he joined his brothers, ruffling Rhysand’s “mane”. 

She couldn’t stop watching him, still unable to believe that such an incredible man was her husband, the father of her child. 

“You look happy, Nes,” Feyre whispered, and when Nesta came back to reality, both of her sisters were looking at her, their eyes soft. 

“I am,” Nesta said, smiling as she looked back to Sloan and pushed her little hair off her tanned forehead. “I really, really am.” 

[thexanwillshine]

internal travesties | levihan

pairing: levi x hange ; minor: eren x mikasa 

genre: romance/ fluff / slight angst

warnings: contains spoilers for chapters 105, 115. and 132

chapters: 1. 2. 3 (final).  

words: 4,648

summary: 

Levi felt his eye twitch in annoyance. She didn't look particularly special, but she entered (no, infiltrated) his cafe with bright eyes and all smiles, making him feel things that he never even felt before. Which was, in his opinion, completely unacceptable. Levi Ackerman hated feeling out of control. 

[Reincarnation! AU] [Levihan] [Minor Eremika]

crosspostings: AO3. 

note: i hope you guys enjoy ehehe <3 thank u for reading and i hope to see u all again very soon.

His memories feel like a travesty. 

Ever since he was young, Levi couldn’t help but feel as if there was something missing in his life. 

His brushes with insomnia gave him headaches no painkiller could cure. It was on those days that Levi’s mind went wild and his thoughts plagued him, ridding him of the sweet drug called sleep. Lonely nights like that made the man feel tired, as his brain was constantly exhausting itself in its search for answers he didn’t even know the questions to. 

On this particular cold night, he gives in to need, and chooses to contemplate his life. 

Levi could say that he had a fairly normal childhood. Even with his sweet darling of a mother, an invisible father, and his gloomy, sort-of sister, it had been rather uneventful. Technically, Mikasa was his cousin, but since they had grown up together she might as well have been his younger sister. Mikasa’s mother (his aunt) had asked if Mikasa could stay with his family when she turned ten so that the young girl could get a good school in the city. His mother, saint that she was, obviously agreed. 

He could remember a time when the young girl would always drag him to supervise her and her friends (all of whom were taller than Levi now, much to his chagrin) to pacify the concerns of Levi’s mother. As Mikasa matured, the young girl stopped making him constantly accompany her, since his mother trusted Mikasa enough to take care of herself at this point. In fact, Levi thought she would probably go out of her way just to get him not to come. Except when he would drive her. That darned girl thinks that he’s her own personal chauffeur.

While the two had their grievances, they maintained an understanding between them. Levi inherited his mother’s cafe called The Underground, and Mikasa went on to continue her parents’ legacy in the field of biology, choosing to major in botany like her mother. Sometimes, whenever Mikasa didn’t have midterms or finals or any exam that could potentially ruin her future, he would allow her to help out in the cafe once in a while. That way, she could technically say that she had experience working. It also gave Levi a good excuse to have extra hands. For Mikasa, it was a good way to earn money even though she didn’t really need to; Levi would give her cash whenever she would ask. 

Contrary to popular belief, Levi did have friends. There was Eld, the assistant manager he knew he could rely on because of his leadership skills. Oruo, who worked better as a cashier because of his case of Constant Threat of Tongue-Biting Which Could Lead To Bleeding . As much as possible, Levi wanted to keep him away from food. Gunther, who’s speed in the kitchen was god-tier. Then there was Petra, a young, budding barista whose skills were definitely commendable. 

Granted, all his friends were people who worked for him in the restaurant. There were several kids who worked for him part-time but they were more his responsibility rather than friends. Most of them were Mikasa’s friends, so at least there was someone accountable for them. Although, he had to admit they were very reliable.  

There’s also that one lawyer who had taken it upon himself to consistently come every morning to the cafe. He said his name was Erwin, and Levi would be lying if he told himself he wasn’t weirded out by the man. The blonde had stared him down on several occasions, as if waiting for him to say something. Once, when Levi couldn’t take it anymore, he asked him directly. 

“Any particular reason why you’re always staring openly at me?” Levi had asked rudely, scrunching his eyebrows at the man in confusion. 

Erwin shook his head in response before introducing himself, even handing the coffee owner a business card. Levi stared at the business card, wondering why in the world he would need a lawyer (god forbid he ever needs one, he’d rather not go to court over anything, really). Erwin Smith, the card had read. “You’ll see me here often since my father works close by.” 

After that, Erwin had frequented the cafe and even made friends with his employees. Petra says he tips very generously. Oruo thinks Erwin can do better. Levi doesn’t necessarily give a flying fuck, but he can’t help but feel as if he’d met or at least seen Erwin somewhere before. 

Levi goes on with his somewhat boring life. Once in a while, whenever he was feeling particularly sociable, he would agree to a cup of tea with Erwin and engage in random conversations about his job and his life. The man was not a pain to talk to. In fact, the entire time they talked, Levi was nagged by a certain familiarity he couldn’t quite place. He felt as if he knew the blond on a much deeper level than he was aware of. He shrugs it off. 

Sometimes, Levi would accompany his friends for drinks (but would never drink any, he hated the taste of alcohol with a passion). Apart from his sudden bouts of social energy,  the man thought his life to be ritualistic, monotone, and organized. He wasn’t complaining, of course; this is exactly what Levi wanted. Sometimes, however, whenever he would be driving home alone with the silence nagging his ears . . . Levi would feel an emptiness emerging from the back of his mind, clouding his thoughts until dawn.

His mind flew back to Erwin as he remembered the lawyer asking him a question in passing on a particularly slow work day. He had been clearing the table beside the blond when Erwin spoke. “Don’t you ever feel as if all your life, you’ve been waiting for something to happen? Like all these good things come to you but nothing really ever feels enough?”

Levi had glared at him, because yes , he definitely has . That every waking moment of his life he could never feel truly satisfied . He chose to maintain his silence. 

To Erwin’s credit, he dropped the subject and smiled softly, as if he could sense Levi’s discomfort. “Sorry,” Erwin said, chuckling. The man waved a wad of papers in his hand. “This case has been particularly mind-provoking, so I’ve been randomly spouting out philosophical questions to anyone who would be willing to listen.” 

“Good luck,” Levi replied shortly, taking the tray of empty cups in his hands and walking towards the staff room. 

Many a time, Levi had wondered how much of him was an open book. He liked to think that he was a pretty closed-off, ambiguous kind of guy. But Erwin had pretty much hit the mark—Levi had indeed settled, but he wasn’t sure if he was satisfied. 

Unfortunately, Erwin wasn’t the only blond who spouted weird questions out of the blue.

Levi had known Armin Arlert since he was a young boy. He remembers glaring at bullies who would tease and mock the poor child, before taking Mikasa and her rowdy group of troublemakers to another playground. Levi knew Mikasa was a reserved child, but it seemed as if her maternal instincts kicked in whenever she could sense Armin was in danger. While the young girl’s other friends were strong enough to defend themselves from the bullies whenever they were the target, Mikasa had long established that people shouldn’t even dare cross her (or her even scarier big “brother”). 

When Armin turned fifteen, his gait changed. Gone was the boy who would whimper as quiet as possible whenever he felt threatened. He still maintained his love for reading, but Armin suddenly adopted a mature mindset that seemed as if he possessed knowledge well-beyond his years. For a time, Mikasa would express her worry for the teenager in her and Levi’s rare conversations. Apparently, Armin had cried and launched himself on both Mikasa and Eren, holding them close to him as if the three of them had spent years apart from each other . . . when in fact, it was the middle of the day. 

Levi was no stranger to Armin’s inquisitive questions about topics the dark-haired man knew nothing of (and didn’t bother to care about). Hence, he thought that the young blond’s strange inquiries couldn’t get any stranger. 

Obviously, Levi was wrong. 

“Levi, do you ever feel as if this life was a second chance? Like, as if right now, you’re you, but not really. Like, there was once a past you, who was different from you now, but the you now is still you. So reincarnation, basically. Or maybe we’re in a different dimension and there are others out there who’re living a different life from us. That I’m just one Armin out of multiple Armins in the universe.” Armin’s questions and speculations came in rapid-fire as he leaned on the counter. “What do you think?”

“I think you need to stop reading science fiction ‘cos it messes with your brain,” Levi responded as he finished counting the coins in the cash register. “Unlike you, I don’t bother with the intricacies of life, brat.” Armin’s inquisitive expression fell into one of dismay as he frowned. 

Levi sighed inwardly as he closed the cash register. “I think the idea of reincarnation makes more sense compared to multiple universes though.”

Armin immediately brightened up when he looked at Levi, before diverting his gaze at Mikasa in what seemed like triumph. “I told you so!” he chirped gleefully. Thanks Levi.” 

Mikasa didn’t reply, but her scalding glare told Levi everything she wanted to say:  ‘Don’t encourage him!’ Levi rolled his eyes and went back to the kitchen, shutting out Eren’s excited questions (“Do you really think we had past lives? Do you think I was cool? Oh my god, what if I was a knight! Or a dinosaur? Or a giant hu—”) effectively by closing the door. 

Levi did give Armin’s questions some thought. There were indeed days wherein he felt out of place in his own skin, like he was living a life meant for someone else. There were also days when he would feel as if he was grasping at threads, trying to figure out what in his life wasn’t in place. However, the concept of reincarnation was something that seemed implausible to him especially because he didn’t believe in the divine. 

The dark-haired man closed his eyes, placing his arm on his forehead as he shifted underneath the  covers. The clock read 15:06, which meant that he had already been awake for a grand total of 23 hours. At four in the morning, he would need to take over the night shift, which Eld was currently in charge of. 

Once again, he is faced with a dilemma: (1) try to get some sleep so that he can get a bit of rest and risk giving Eld overtime, or (2) suck it up and accept the fact that this day was going to be another one of his 48-hour days.

The answer was obvious. Levi was not the type of person to let others suffer for his mistakes. So he grit his teeth, pushed himself out of bed, and headed to his bathroom to take a hot shower.

He really needs to get some rest. 

When Levi exited the bathroom thirty minutes later, dressed and ready for work, someone was knocking on his door. Levi scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. It was nearly four in the morning. With his mother in Sina for a conference and Mikasa due to wake at six in the morning, there should be no one in the house to bother him at the ungodly hour. 

He opened the door and was proven wrong when his sight was greeted by Mikasa. She had puffy eyes, tear-streaked cheeks, and shivering lips. The poor girl held her black scarf close to herself as if it would help ease whatever pain she was feeling. Levi blinked at the sight, unsure of what to say. He tried anyway. 

“What’s wrong, brat? Mosquito get stuck in your ear again?” Mikasa shook her head . Levi sighed as he noted that she didn’t give him her traditional glare. “Need to talk about it?” 

She opened her mouth and closed it again in response. She does this thrice before Levi interrupts her. 

“ Oi, fishface, is it a yes or a no?” 

Mikasa shook her head a second time. 

“Well, brat, how do you expect me to help you?” Levi pushed his door open and let his cousin in. Mikasa entered clumsily (different from her usual composed self, he noted) and sat at the edge of his bed. 

Levi glanced at his glowing clock before choosing to text Eld. He’s going to be late and Eld would have to work overtime. Levi wasn’t entirely sure if he’d make it to the cafe by four (even though it was just a five minute drive) given the status of his crying sister. 

Mikasa rarely cried, and even if she did, she wouldn’t go to him of all people. She’d most likely sneak out to go visit Eren or Armin, which is nothing the young girl hadn’t done before. So, Levi decided, just for today, he would ask Eld for this one favor in order to offer his own personal brand of comfort to his cousin and exist with her as she lamented (not like he can say much to comfort her, anyway). 

He successfully got a reply from Eld, who had agreed to cover the overtime. The assistant manager relayed a bit of concern from Petra, who mentioned that it was very “unlike boss” to show up to work late. Levi was about to send a message informing the two of his personal matters when Mikasa spoke up. 

“You don’t . . . remember anything, do you Captain?” 

“Hah?” Levi asked, half his focus on his phone as he tapped the send button. “Remember what?” 

Mikasa glared at the floor as if begging it to swallow her whole. She wiped her tears with the sleeve of her shirt, and buried half of her face behind the dark scarf she was sporting. Offhandedly, Levi wondered when was the last time she washed that thing. He should probably remind Mikasa after her breakdown. 

“Armin wasn’t lying, you know.”

Confused as ever, he raised an eyebrow. Is she going through a phase? Levi wondered, his mouth set in a grim line. “About what?”

She spoke to the floor and not really at him. “About the past. The past lives, I mean. Reincarnation, and all that.” 

If Levi had been confused before, he was even more confused now. 

“I can’t talk to you about it,” Mikasa continued, holding her arms closer to her. “No matter how much I try, the words don’t—no, won’t come out.” She let out a sigh, before looking up at Levi, who was already feeling kind of guilty as he wasn’t able to give her much help. 

“Then don’t force yourself to talk if it’s hard for you to, you can just go over it next time,” Levi offered, crossing his arms over his chest and glancing at the clock. I really am bad at this , he thought. 

 Mikasa shook her head for the third time that night. “It’s much harder than you think.” She paused and straightened up, inhaling sharply through her nose and exhaling through her mouth. “It seems it doesn’t work like that. I need to talk to Armin. Can you drive me?”

Levi had no idea what in the world it was and why it doesn’t work like that . Given the complexity of the situation—mostly due to the fact that he was complete shit at giving her help, advice, or anything she needed emotionally, really—he made no attempts to complain about her request to chauffeur her. 

The young girl asked him nicely after all . Maybe she really wasn’t feeling well. 

He nodded. “Don’t you want to get dressed first? You look like a mess.” He scrunched his nose at her scarf, “Also, when’s the last time you washed that thing? That might be really dir—” 

Levi didn’t get to finish the rest of his sentence because Mikasa had thrown the scarf straight up to his face. His eye twitched in annoyance as he plucked the scarf out of his head. He shoved it in Mikasa’s hands. She was lucky the scarf didn’t smell bad, otherwise he would’ve definitely confiscated it and thrown it in the washing machine. “Damn it, brat, learn how to wash your clothes. I’m telling mom.” 

“Blabbermouth, squealer, mama’s boy, ” Mikasa retorted, standing up. 

Levi rolled his eyes before grabbing his keys from his bedside table and turning off his lamp. Mikasa had already stepped outside, her black scarf wrapped around her neck. Levi closed his door when he exited, moving in step with the younger woman. She was already calling Armin, and Levi knew that the blond would be ready to accept company when he heard Armin’s sleepy voice respond from the other line. Levi didn’t bother listening, and instead chose to open the car door and wait inside the vehicle (a black four-seater that his invisible father had left him) as Mikasa conversed with Armin. 

She entered after about ten minutes, slamming the car door shut. Levi pulled out of their driveway smoothly. 

“Drop by the cafe if you and Armin need to eat,” Levi said shortly as Mikasa put on her seatbelt. 

“Is it on the house?” 

“Of course, I’ll dock it from your pay.”

“Some definition of ‘on the house'   you have.” 

The ride takes about twenty minutes without traffic, since Armin lived a bit further away. The two Ackermans sat without conversing, both of them listening to the soft sound of music from the radio. 

It’s Levi who broke the silence. “Oi, brat, this isn’t necessarily my business, but shouldn’t you also be calling your other snot-nosed friend?”

The reply came quicker than he had anticipated. “No.” 

She doesn’t elaborate, so Levi left it at that. Perhaps, he thought, they fought, and that's why the dark-haired woman was acting weird. Either way, he knew it was none of his business. 

They arrive at Armin’s house at about five minutes ‘till five in the morning. Mikasa opened the door, muttering a sincere “thank you” as she left. She closed the door behind her softly, enough to lock it but not loud enough to wake the neighbors. Mikasa gave her older cousin a brief wave and turned around swiftly to Armin’s doorstep before he could even nod in acknowledgement. 

At least he wasn’t the only Ackerman who was bad at showing emotions. 

Armin waves enthusiastically from the doorway, and Levi (unenthusiastically) raises his hand in reply. He then pulled back from the driveway and headed to his cafe. 

The drive towards The Underground  is short and uneventful. He had already texted Eld in advance that he would be arriving. He brought his car into the parking lot and headed to his designated parking spot, beside the PWD parking near the entrance. To his surprise, there was a car already in his spot. It was a blue pick-up truck that looked worse for wear. 

Levi’s eye twitched in mild annoyance. 

He knew he couldn’t do anything about it since there was no sign that that specific spot was for him (he really, really should do that). Since dawn was normally for students cramming their papers, all of whom didn’t need cars since the university was just walking distance from the cafe, Levi had assumed he wouldn’t need the sign anymore. Clearly, he was wrong. 

Levi sighed before deciding to park two spots beside the pick-up truck. 

Upon entering the cafe, he noticed that there were only about three customers. One was a regular: a blonde girl whose drinks were surrounded by a pile of papers. Her highlighting was careless and panicky. Beside her sat an auburn-haired girl, who was the second customer. Compared to the blonde, she was already lost in sleep.  

The third customer was someone he never really encountered in his shop before. From where he entered, Levi could see that she was wearing a thick pair of glasses, and that her hands were shoved in a tan coat. She was incredibly tall, and sported dark boots and leggings. The woman was currently standing in front of the counter, her eyes focused on the menu splayed out on the bright screens above the coffee machines. 

Levi passed her without giving it much thought, swiftly entering the staff room. Eld grinned at him when he entered, removing his apron and placing it on the rack. “Good morning boss,” he greeted, as Levi grabbed his own apron and swung it over his head. 

“There’s a customer outside,” Levi said nonchalantly. 

Eld nodded in recognition. “Yeah, she comes here every three a.m. on the dot. Leaves before you arrive, so I understand why you’re not familiar with her. Don’t worry though, she looks like she’s thinking now, but she’s going to order the same thing. Make sure to get her a large, sweet cream cold brew nitro.” 

Levi nodded as Eld checked out, bidding him goodbye. Levi dumped his car keys in his locker before he heard the bell ring from outside. That tall girl was probably ready to order her americano. 

He exited the door, standing in front of her and checking to see if Eld properly set the cashier for his shift. Levi nodded to himself in approval, as Eld had done his job spectacularly (as always). In about an hour, Jean Kirchstein and Marco Bott would be taking over the cashier while he cleaned the store. He barely glanced at the customer as he mechanically tapped his fingers rhythmically on the register, letting out the practiced “May I take your order?” 

“Good morning! Could I please have a large sweet cream cold brew nitro? To-go, please!” 

Something about her voice made Levi’s blood run cold. He raised his head to look at her. She was smiling at him, her eyes shining with excitement. Her bangs are parted in the middle of her forehead and the rest of her hair is tied in a lazy half-bun. By the greasy state of her auburn hair, it looked like she hadn’t bothered bathing. 

For a reason Levi couldn’t explain (he would later argue that it was because he was so surprised to see that someone could live their life while having hair so dirty ), his body grew stiff as he stared at her, transfixed. 

The girl tilted her head to the side in confusion. “Is something wrong?” she asked, looking at him. “Is my order not available? That’s okay, you know, I can just order something else—” 

Levi interrupted her tirade as he regained control over his body once again, swallowing the odd feeling gnawing at his gut. “Name?” he managed to choke out, trying his best to appear calm. For some strange reason, his heart decided that now was the time for palpitations. 

“Oh!” the girl said in surprise, “right, I haven’t seen you here at this hour before! Just put in Hange!”

His hands moved automatically to input her order. There really is something so . . . familiar about her, but Levi just couldn’t seem to put his finger on it. It reminded him of when he had first met Erwin. He felt like he had seen her from a dream long forgotten in the recesses of his mind, begging to be released and remembered. 

There’s just one problem: he knows he’s never seen this girl in his life before. After all, someone who never washed their hair would make a very distinct impression on him. 

“That’ll be four dollars,” Levi said through grit teeth, annoyed at himself for failing to maintain his own composure. Hange nodded fervently as she placed her five dollar bill on the counter. 

“Keep the change!” she declared enthusiastically, before peering at him in concern. “You’re okay, right?” Hange asked. “Sorry, early mornings really aren’t for everyone, huh?”

He remained silent, placing the bill inside the cash register and shutting it close. Levi didn’t bother answering her question as he allowed his mind to get lost in thought. He continued the patterns of service he had long since memorized, his body on autopilot. 

Levi was always in control of his mind, his body, his spirit . . . so why?  There were a million questions racing through his head. ‘ Who the fuck is this girl? Damn, my heart feels like it’s going to pop out of my chest. This isn’t normal.’ 

He stole a glance at her lanky form, hoping that she wasn’t at the counter anymore and had taken a seat somewhere in the cafe. To his disappointment, she was still standing there, watching him make the drink. When she saw him look at her, she gave him a tiny wave. 

Levi felt his eye twitch in annoyance. She didn’t look particularly special, but she entered (no, infiltrated) his cafe with bright eyes and all smiles, making him feel things that he never even felt before. 

Which was, in his opinion, completely unacceptable. Levi Ackerman hated feeling out of control. 

He poured the drink into a tall cup expertly before placing it on top of the counter. “Hange,” he called, her name escaping his lips smoothly, as if he had said the syllables a million times before. 

Levi frowned, sensing the beginnings of a migraine in the middle of his eyebrows, so he pinches the area gently, as if the action could relieve some of the pain. 

Hange walked over to the counter, looking a bit concerned. “Hey, Levi,” she started, and the man visibly flinched. Why did the sound of his name from her voice trigger a barrage of emotions he’s never even bothered to feel before?

Levi dug his nails into the palms of his hands. He was almost about to ask ‘how the fuck do you know me’ and ‘do I fucking know you’ before the rational part of his brain interjected that she had probably seen his name tag. 

His silence gave Hange permission to speak again, so she continued. “Do you have a headache?” Without waiting for him to respond, she smiled. “I got just the thing! I’ll leave you this gift as my thanks for your service!” And with those words, she placed a painkiller on the counter as she gently took her drink. “Take it so you can have a good morning, okay? 

Levi watched her actions cautiously. 

She winked. “Oh, and don’t take it with tea.”  

Levi’s eyes narrowed in suspicion at this point. The words Do I know you? burst in his mind and died at the edges of his lips. Instead, he muttered a clipped “thank you” to her small token of appreciation. 

She grinned. “Take care, Levi!” 

And with those words, she left, leaving Levi to wonder out loud, “what the fuck just happened?” 

The body remembers what the mind has forgotten.  

[what-is-your-plan-today]

CSI: Rogers and Barnes Ch 11- When You Gotta Blow

Part 2 Co-Written with @icanfeelastormbrewing​

REMINDER! Episode Warnings: Bad Language words.

Make sure you read Part 1 first!!!

Steve headed out towards his car, his mind absolutely whirring. This case had just taken a seriously grave turn, and his fingers clasped tightly around the Pen Drive in his pocket. The fact that Fury believed that Howard and his wife could have been murdered had knocked him for six, and now he was going to have to break that to Katie and Tony…

Shit, what a fucking mess.

He climbed in his car and pulled out his phone, and instantly frowned as he saw the various notifications. He had 3 missed calls off Bucky, 4 off Katie, a number of messages and a voice mail, but before he even had time to do anything about any of those, the screen lit up with his Mother’s number.

“Ma?” he answered immediately “Is everything ok? I’ve had a load of…” “You need to come here as soon as you can.” his mother spoke calmly “Star’s here and she’s absolutely distraught about something that happened at work. She’s not making much sense other than she thinks you’re going to be really mad at her…”

Steve sighed, the feeling in the pit of his stomach growing even worse. It didn’t take a genius to work out that there’d clearly been some kind of incident involving her and Wanda, so after assuring his mother he would be there as soon as he could he put the car in drive and called Bucky.

“Been calling you for an hour, Punk…” Bucky said, his voice quiet.” “Whatever, just tell me why Katie’s turned up at my mom’s apparently hysterical…I’m assuming her and Wanda had an argument…” “Erm…yeah…you could say that…Katie’s effectively outed you to the team.”

“Fuck…” Steve gave a groan of frustration.

“I warned you about Wanda…” Bucky began and Steve made an angry noise.

“You also told me to leave it!” he spluttered “And if you must know I’d decided to talk to her later, tell her to back off, her behaviour today was too much…”

“Yeah well it pushed Stark over the edge, I gotta admit, your girl’s pretty scary when she gets going…” “She didn’t hit Wanda did she?” “No just threatened to rip her hand off if she touched you again…oh, and scratch her eyes out as well if she looked at you in a way Katie didn’t like…” Bucky mused “To be honest, I wish I’d filmed it because the look on Wanda’s face when Stark told her in, pretty good detail what you’d been up to last weekend was fucking priceless…”

“Yeah, yeah laugh it up…” Steve shook his head “This is going to be a nightmare on top of everything else…”

Bucky paused “Take it the meeting with Fury didn’t go down well?”

“That’s a really long story…one that I’m gonna need to explain, sooner rather than later but for now I need to go calm Katie down…” “Good luck with that, you’re gonna need it.” Bucky said, and Steve sighed.

“Jerk…”

He cut the call and concentrated on navigating his way to his mother’s house which took him roughly 40 minutes and he took the steps up to the door 2 at a time. As he stepped into the narrow hallway, the smell of cooking hit his nostrils and his mother immediately walked out of the lounge and he looked at her.

“Where’s my girl?” he asked, and he didn’t miss the look on his mother’s face at the fact he’d used that term, but he didn’t have time to even go into the fact that she looked almost as if she could combust with happiness, he had one thing on his mind right now and that was making sure Katie was ok.

“She’s in there…” Sarah said, jerking her head back towards the door she had just walked out of. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.” He smiled, thankful that his Ma was tactful enough to give them space before he headed into the living room and Katie immediately looked up at him from where she was curled on the pale grey sofa, hugging her knees. Her eyes were bloodshot, face streaked with tears and he sighed as he strode towards her.

“Sweetheart…” he said softly as he sat next to her and pulled her to him as her arms wrapped around his neck. She pressed her face into his shoulder, sniffing slightly as she began to cry again.

“I’m so sorry…I just snapped and…I didn’t mean to tell everyone, I swear, please don’t be angry…”

“Hey, hey…it’s ok, I’m not mad.” he said gently, his hands rubbing at her back.

“You’re not?”

“No, everyone was gonna find out at some point.” he said gently, stopping himself short of telling her they had bigger fish to fry. She needed to calm down before he even mentioned any of what Fury had told him.

“I’m gonna have to leave the team.” she said softly

“Well, maybe not.” Steve said “I’ve been thinking about that on the way over. Technically, you still report into Coulson, not me…he’s your SO…I’m only borrowing you…” “That’s a very thin technicality…” Katie pulled, back looking at him.

“But it’s a technicality nonetheless. “Steve said gently, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear “Pretty sure that Weiss would be able to exploit it anyway…”

“Ass!” Katie hit him on the chest at the mention of one of her exes, before her brow furrowed.

“What?”

“Nothing, just something Wanda said. Accused me of parading my latest conquests in front of you to make you jealous…fucking bitch.” “OK…” Steve sighed, “Just…try not to think about her…although I’d also appreciate it if you didn’t rip her hand off or scratch her eyes out too…”

Katie groaned “Bucky told you?” her eyes fell down to his tie and she began to gently play with it, with the air of a small child, but Steve knew she was still worried and upset, she always fiddled with things in her hands when she was. “Yeah, before…” he said, his left hand leaving her back to gently wrap over her right as she pulled his tie through her fingers. “She deserved it.” “That’s as maybe but if you did, well it’s a lot of paper work to deal with and I’m pretty sure that would get you booted off the team…probably the force too.” “What about a slap?” Katie asked, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she looked up at him “Just a little one…”

“No.” he said, arching an eyebrow, glad that she was clearly calm enough now to be making jokes, although he knew that she wasn’t actually joking, because given an opportunity she probably would actually lay one on Wanda.

“Fine.” Katie pouted, before she let out a sigh “Anyway, change of subject, how did it go with Fury? Did he give you anything on Rumlow?” “How did you know that’s what he wanted?” Steve looked at her.

“I didn’t, just seemed the most logical thing…” she shrugged. Before she could quiz him more, they both heard a faint buzzing noise and Katie reached around for her bag which was on the small coffee table.

“It’s Tony…” she said, looking at the phone.

“Ok, I’ll go help Ma in the kitchen” he said, and she nodded, shifting off his lap. He gave her cheek a soft kiss before he headed out, closing the door.

“She ok?” Sarah looked up at Steve as he entered the room and undid his tie, popping the button on his shirt nodding.

“Yeah, fine. There was just a little bit of an incident at the station.” Steve said.

“What type of incident?” Sarah eyed him.

“Just one of the other members of staff, deliberately goading her about me and she kinda exploded from what Bucky said. Blew our cover anyway.” “Oh, that doesn’t sound good.” Sarah frowned.

“It’s not, but whatever it is I’ll deal with it.” Steve said, shrugging. “Thanks for looking after her.”

Sarah smiled “I’ll always look after my little star…and you better had too.” Steve snorted and looked at his ma as he crossed his arms “Are you seriously gonna give me a shovel talk too? I got one off Tony a few days ago!”

“I’m not gonna lecture you Steve, God only knows how long you’ve waited for this to happen. Both us us have.” she said, turning back to rolling out the pastry she was working on as she mumbled under her breath “I kinda like to think I raised you better than being a shit bag.” Steve arched his eyebrow as his sharp hearing picked up his mother’s little dig “Language Ma…” “Don’t talk to me like I’m one of your subordinates Steven Grant.” she shot back, turning to face him, pointing the rolling pin at him. “I was so disappointed in you when you told me what went down at Christmas. You know that right?”

“You hadda ask?” Steve shook his head and looked down at his feet, he was painfully aware of that fact…not merely because he could still feel the blow she had landed to the back of his head. “Of course I know. And believe me Ma I have no intention to run out on her ever again, I love her.” “So, you didn’t love her back then?” Sarah looked at him, lowering the rolling pin and he didn’t miss the teasing glint in her eyes.

“Ok, fine…will it make you shut up if I admit it?” He sassed back.

“Yes, and if you ask me I’d say I was glad I was right all this time.” she replied, turning back to the pastry she was rolling. Steve rolled his eyes and headed towards the fridge, opening it to search for something to drink, grumbling to himself as he went “Well I’m not asking…”

He pulled out a bottle of beer, which he knew full well his Ma only kept for him and move to grab the bottle opener, popping the lid.

“So Tony talked to you, how did that go?” Sarah watched as he took a pull of his drink, “I mean, knowing Howard as I did, I expect Tony to be just as bad…” “I knew Howard too Ma, remember?” Steve looked at her “And Tony’s way worse than he was. But after a couple of life threats he came round.”

“You threatened him?” Sarah’s eyes widened.

“No, he threatened me.”

“Oh, that’s ok then.” “Gee thanks Ma…” Steve rolled his eyes.

“Well, what I mean is, threatening your future brother in law isn’t exactly a great way to start off when he’s the one whose permission you’re gonna hafta ask seeing as Howard is no longer around.”

“Jesus…marriage? Seriously?” Steve looked at her, “You wanna talk about that now? We’ve like officially been together since weekend, been on one date…”

“I’m your mother Steve. Mothers know these things…” she said simply, placing the rolled out pastry into the pie dish as she began to press it down “And if Maria was here I’m sure she would agree with me. She was an intelligent woman.” “Can you just let me enjoy dating her before you start dreaming about wedding dress shopping and ordering yourself a damned hat?”

At that Sarah laughed, tipping the baking beads into the pastry dish. “Of course dear” she said before she slid the pie crust into the oven and turned to look at him “But I would like to point out that the time line you have indicated does not take into account the 10 years you spent frozen in the ice of mutual pining…”

“The ice of mutual pining?” Steve spluttered a laugh, expertly catching the apple Sarah threw at his head “Now, now Mother, don’t be getting violent, not with two police officers in the house…” “Yeah, you arrest me and who’s gonna make you pie?” She looked at him, and Steve grinned.

“Katie?”

Sarah paused and Steve knew she had no comeback to that, as Sarah had shown Katie exactly how to make her famous apple pie and as far as imitations went, it was a damned near perfect copy.

“Oh piss off.” Sarah spluttered in response and Steve let out a huge bellow of laughter, his hand clutching at his chest before he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her. She chuckled her own laugh as she gave her son a hug stepping back.

“But I mean it Steve…” she looked up at him, her hand gently brushing his cheek. “If you feel the time is right don’t wait…you’ve done that for long enough.” Steve smiled, and nodded, and she turned back to peeling the apples “Besides…” she said, a smile spreading on her face “I’m bored of making pie for you…maybe I need a couple of grandkids to bake for…” “Jesus, there you go again Ma!” Steve groaned, and Sarah laughed but before she could say anything else the doorbell rang.

Placing his beer down, Steve headed gladly out of the kitchen, frowning slightly as he could hear Katie’s raised voice,  clearly mid some argument with Tony. He strode to the door and opened it, blinking slightly as Bucky smiled back at him

“Boy am I glad you arrived.” Steve said, stepping back to let him in.

“Sorry punk, I’m flattered but I’m taken.”

“Jerk.” Steve said, as he shut the door behind him.

“Just came to check up on you and your girl.” Bucky shrugged, not waiting for Steve to ask.

“I thought you were just following the smell of apple pie all the way from the station.” Steve said sarcastically as Bucky shrugged off his jacket, hanging it on a peg.

“Your Ma’s baking?” Bucky’s eyes lit up “Now, you know I never say not to Mama R’s cooking, Steve.”

“For you to say no she’d have had to have asked you in the first place.” Steve shot back.

“Don’t be like that…” Bucky whined “I’m exhausted. It’s been a shitty morning at the station dealing with the aftermath of World War 3…I don’t know how you cope with that on a day to day basis…” “Is that you I hear James Barnes?” Sarah’s voice carried down the hall and Steve turned to see her leaning in the kitchen doorway, wiping her hands on a tea towel.

“Yes Mrs Rogers, the son you always wished you had is here…” he grinned, holding his arms out as he walked towards her. She gave a chuckle as she gave him a hug.

“Charmer.” Sarah smiled at him “I assume you’ll be staying for lunch too?” she paused, glancing at her watch “Albeit a fairly late one.”

“Oh, as Steve pointed out I haven’t been asked…” “Well neither has he.” Sarah said, and she glanced at Steve who looked at her, blinking, as he realised she was right.

“I don’t need to be asked, I’m your son…” he pouted, and Sarah gave a laugh.

“Oh hush, I already figured you’d be staying when Star turned up. That’s why there’s s a full lamb joint in the oven, plenty to go around…” “Well in that case, I would love to join you all.” Bucky grinned as Steve walked past him into the kitchen “And I also heard someone mention apple pie…which, as you know, I have a particular weakness for Mrs R”

“You have a weakness for anything food related.” Steve said, handing him a beer. Bucky nodded a thanks as he leaned against the counter, grinning as he watched Sarah pulling the pie casing from the oven to fill with apples, before she placed the top on and returned it to the heat.

“Check us out, like a regular family.” Bucky sighed, happily.

“Yeah, the Adams Family” Steve muttered, before he gave a yell as his Ma had clouted him round the back of the head “Shit, Ma!”

“Language!” she and Bucky said at the same time.

At that point, Katie walked into the kitchen, rubbing at her face.

“You ok honey?” Steve asked as she took a deep breath.

“Yeah, just Tony being Tony.” she grumbled before she turned to Bucky and offered him a smile “Hey Buck, sorry about before…” “Don’t sweat it Doll Face” he said, giving her a hug “You feeling better.” “I was until about 15 minutes ago.” she grumbled. “I don’t know where he gets off lecturing me, he seriously must think I’m 16 not 34…”

“Sorry, that might be my fault.” Bucky said, grimacing. “He called the station and I said you’d gone home as you weren’t feeling great.” “No, it’s not your fault it’s him being an ass-hat.” she rolled her eyes before she put on a spookily accurate impression of her brother “Answer your phone…how did it go last night…are you coming home tonight…I’m not running a bed and breakfast you know…bla bla bla”

Steve smiled softly as he crossed the room and wrapped his arms around her, kissing her head. She pressed her face into his shirt and took a deep breath. Bucky glanced over at Sarah who was watching the two of them, smiling softly. She caught Bucky’s eye and he flashed her a wink. She grinned, and then reached into the cupboard and pulled out two wine glasses.

“Make yourself useful James…”

He gave her a salute and moved to the fridge as Steve gently released Katie, his hands cupping her face as she nodded at him, telling him she was ok.

“Erm…sancerre or pinot?” Bucky asked.

“Sancerre…” Katie and Sarah said at the same time, the two women sharing a look before they both chuckled.

“Ok because that’s not creepy…” Bucky mumbled, pulling the bottle from the fridge.

“No, it’s just Star has good taste.” Sarah smiled.

“Can’t be that good, she’s dating Steve.”

“Jerk.” Steve glared at him as Bucky simply shrugged, pouring the wine.

“That was another thing Tony was moaning about.” Katie frowned “Apparently the wine I drank the other night was some kind of expensive vintage. I mean, Pepper owns a bar, sure she can manage to get another dammed bottle…” she scratched at her head, thanking Bucky “I’m gonna have to give some serious thought as to what I’m doing you know…maybe I need to call Coulson, tell him I’m not going back to DC…I mean the lease on my place there is up in a month…least then I could get somewhere here and be out of his hair, so he can stop monitoring my every fucking move…”

Everyone fell silent and she looked up, grimacing slightly at her outburst “Sorry…” “You rant away all you want love.” Sarah nodded to her, as she moved for her wine “I told you, I’m always here for you.” “I know, thanks Sarah.” she smiled at her softly. Sarah turned back to begin prepping the veg for dinner, waving away all 3 of them as they offered to help, insisting as she always did that whilst she was physically able to cook for them all, she wanted to do so.

Steve shook his head as both Bucky and Katie were about to protest, knowing what his mother was like and he nodded to the kitchen table and they all took a seat.

“Listen…”  Steve looked at Katie “I told you once, just come and stay with me, at least until the case is solved…then you don’t have to make any rash decisions about DC, not just yet anyway…” “Errr, objection…” Bucky said, taking a drink from his beer.

“You don’t get a say in this.” Steve looked at him. “It’s my flat.”

“I pay rent.” “No, you don’t!” Steve shook his head, laughing “You contribute towards the bills.”

“Details…” Bucky waved his hand, brushing asides Steve’s point “But….come on! I don’t want to listen to the pair of you…erm, well, I can’t say too much because your mother is here but…” Steve groaned as Sarah turned to look at them, raising an eyebrow as Katie flushed and Bucky grinned as he continued “But you get what I mean Mrs R. They’re making up for lost time…” “Well, it’s a lot of lost time to make up for.” Sarah said simply, causing Bucky to roar with laughter as Steve let out another exasperated noise and Katie suddenly became very interested with the stem of her wine glass, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

“Can we not…” Steve shook his head “Look, anyway, you don’t like it feel free to leave Buck…”

“I haven’t said I’d do it yet.” Katie said, shaking her head and Steve looked at her.

“No, but if you do, you take priority over him…” he said, winking as he jerked his head at Bucky. “Woah, what happened to bros before hoes?” Bucky said “You calling me a hoe?” Katie raised an eyebrow, teasingly at him.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Bucky shook his head “Not after what you said to Wanda. You know, you’re scary when you’re angry.”

“Not as bad as Banner…” Katie said, grinning “He has monumental rage problems…I’ve only seen it once but he scared the crap out of Tony…it was great.”

“Was that the time he ate his donut?” Steve pondered and Katie nodded.

“Yeah, he’d been saving it specially…” She said

“Serves him right.” Bucky nodded seriously “You don’t steal a man’s food.” “Jerk, you steal all my food.” Steve looked at him, shaking his head. “Sharing is caring Steve.” Bucky shrugged.

A couple of minutes later Sarah asked Steve to set the table so the two men did just that as Katie set about helping Sarah plate up their lunch. Not long after that the 4 of them settled down, full plates in front of them and began to eat.

“Mrs R…” Bucky looked up at her “You never cease to amaze me with your cooking.” “Thank you James.” she smiled.

“You’re welcome. Now if Katie moves in with Steve, can I come and live here?”

“I’d rather have a cat” she shot back, and Katie and Steve laughed. It was a well-known fact Sarah Rogers despised felines with a passion.

“Harsh.” Bucky mumbled.

“They’re less demanding and they don’t eat as much.”  Sarah looked at him “Besides, don’t you have your own girlfriend to go and move in with…what was her name? Samantha?” The mouthful of food Steve had been swallowing suddenly stuck in his throat as he began to laugh. He coughed slightly, before he swallowed it and shot a glance at Katie who was shaking with silent mirth as she sat at the end of the table.

“Erm…” Bucky had flushed a bright shade of red. “Well, we’re not exactly at that stage yet, I mean we’ve only been dating a couple of months…”

“Longer than Steve and Katie…well, if you discount the 10 years of wasted time that is.” Sarah shrugged “Do you not see it going that way with her James?”

“Well, yeah, eventually…” Bucky said.

“What are you two laughing at?” Sarah snapped, looking at Steve and then Katie, who looked at one another before they both let out loud snorts and shook their heads.

“Buck…” Steve smiled at him, nodding “Just tell her…Ma’s not gonna think any less of you, I promise.”

“Tell me what?” Sarah frowned

Bucky sighed “Sam is Samuel, not Samantha.”

Sarah blinked, before she looked at Steve and then Katie, “I don’t see why that’s so funny…” she glared at them as she turned back to Bucky “You’re gay? Why on earth haven’t you told me before?” “I’m bi-sexual.” Bucky said, “I’m attracted to both, and I haven’t told anyone really, not yet. Steve only found out the other night…and Katie guessed.” “Bi-sexual…” Sarah mused the word over before she shrugged “How…modern.”

****** “Well ma…” Steve leaned back in his chair, his waistband feeling tighter than it had about half an hour ago before they had started eating “That was amazing, as ever. Thank you.”

Bucky and Katie nodded their agreement, adding their thanks and Sarah flushed smiling. “You’re welcome…you know I love having you all round. Now does anyone want a second helping of pie?”

Bucky watched as Katie was clearly considering it before she shook her head “No, thank you, but I’ll take a piece for later if it’s spare?”

Sarah chuckled and reached out to pinch her cheek affectionately “There’s enough left for you all to take a piece home.” “How are you not the size of a house?” Bucky looked at Katie “The only person I know who eats more is Steve…and maybe me…”

“Maybe?” Steve looked at him as Sarah chuckled and stood up to start clearing their plates, giving Katie a stern look as she had risen to help. Suitably chastised she sat back down, shrugging.

“OK, not maybe, but still…” “Good metabolism” Katie shrugged “And I run. Did 8 miles yesterday before work.” “8?” Steve looked at her “That’s 2 more than you used to manage with me.”

“Yeah, well it turns out when I don’t have to match your pounding pace I can go for longer, who knew?”

Steve looked at her, and she flushed bright red as she realised that what she had said was a pretty dirty innuendo and he smirked to himself slightly as Bucky let out a groan.

“Gross…”

Steve smiled, leaning back in his chair and watched his mom bustling about as she finally gave in to Katie’s pleas to let her help, telling her she could load the dishwasher. He watched as the two of them settled into an easy chat, sharing a laugh as they spoke and Sarah gently laid her hand on Katie’s arm. Seeing his girl so settled warmed his heart, especially seeing as she had been so upset and agitated less than 2 hours ago when he had arrived.

And then he sighed, as he remembered the pen drive sat in his pocket. He was going to bring all that crashing down.

“Steve?” Bucky asked, noticing the look on his friends face. “What’s wrong?”

“The meeting with Fury.” he said, “Let’s just say it threw something up. Something big.” “How big?” Bucky frowned.

“Big enough that it can’t wait.” he said, “As soon as Katie’s done, we need to go and see Tony.” “Tony?” Bucky’s mouth dropped open “I’m not…”

“Just…” Steve held his hand up “Wait and I’ll explain to the both of you…”

At that point his Ma turned round and asked if they wanted another drink and Steve took a deep breath.

“Sorry Ma but, we need to get going. All of us.” He said, looking at Katie “We got work to do.” “We do?” Katie frowned.

“Yeah.” he said “I need to debrief everyone on the meeting this morning, and it can’t wait…not any longer anyway.” “Oh, ok.” Katie said, looking at him as he locked eyes with her. He could tell she understood perfectly and she turned to Sarah and gave her an apologetic look “Captain’s orders.” Sarah gave a little laugh and smiled “Go and sort yourselves out, I’ll wrap this pie…”

At that Steve stood and headed into the living room, Bucky and Katie following and once they were in there he shut the door.

“Look, I didn’t want to say anything before…” Steve began, fishing the pen drive out of his jacket which was on the back of the sofa “Fury thinks that you’re right, about the conspiracy. And what’s more is he thinks someone on the inside of the NYPD is pulling the strings.”

Katie and Bucky exchanged a glance and Bucky let out a low whistle “Shit…that is big…” “That ain’t the half of it.” Steve said, showing them the drive “Fury also gave me this…said it had been delivered with specific instructions it be passed to you.” “Me?” Katie frowned taking it from him. “Why? What’s on it?” “Fury only got an initial message before the encryption kicked in, but the message said that you would understand what the pass key is and that…” He trailed off, turning the silver device over in his hands, looking at it as if it was a bomb. Which, metaphorically, it was…

“Steve…” Katie pressed and he looked at her. “Baby, what…” “The note said it contains information about not only the Cereal Serial Killer but also about your Father.” “Dad?” Katie’s eyes widened. “But, I don’t…”

Steve looked down at his feet, trying to find the words to explain the next part, the part that was going to shatter her world. “Fury…he doesn’t believe that your parents’ deaths were an accident.” Steve swallowed as Katie’s mouth dropped open and she stood there looking at him, utterly dumfounded. “He thinks they were murdered.” “No, that’s…” Katie looked at him, her chest heaving as she started to breathe deeply, and her eyes flicked away from Steve to a spot to his right as she was clearly contemplating something. He glanced at Bucky who was looking at him, his own eyes wide, before Katie raised her head and he could see then she understood instantly.

“They choked…” she said, her voice a whisper. “The cereal…” Steve nodded “Fury thinks there’s a possibility it’s connected.”

Katie gently reached and took the drive from Steve but before she could move her hand he gently curled his palm around hers.

“Doll…” he said softly “I…”

“We need to take this to Tony.” she said, softly “if this is as big as you say and does involve my parents, then his office is the safest place to go. His firewalls and security…” Steve nodded, “Agreed. Look, honey, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you straight away but…you were already upset as it was and…”

She looked at him her eyes full of tears, shaking her head to show she wasn’t mad and he took a deep breath and pulled her into his arms, gently kissing her temple. He glanced at Bucky who gave him a small smile, clearly lost in his own thoughts, and Steve felt the enjoyment of the early afternoon fizzling away as he stood there gently holding his girl, unable to think of another damned word to say.

[mwolf0epsilon]

Story about something crashing on little Sammy parents farm. Maybe the government comes and forces them out for a while to collect it?👽

Warning for disturbing imagery and dead animals!

Summary: Joey Drew Studio is snowed in, so while everyone tries to keep warm for the night they end up reminiscing about the oddest things they had ever experienced. Sammy ends up recalling a rather bizarre event from his childhood.

---

[[MORE]]

"I'm sorry to impose so much Mrs. Harrison. I trust Abigail will behave, she's a little angel I assure you." Sammy fidgeted with the phone chord nervously as he listened to his elderly neighbor. "Yes, yes thank you... Oh certainly! Let her on so I can wish her a good night..."

Susie watched as the tired look on the music director's face melted away to welcome a gentler smile. She could sort of hear a child's voice on the line (his little sister that he'd mentioned a few times). It was quite endearing to see Sammy with such a calm and content expression instead of the usual grumpy scrawl that scared half the band into submission.

"Good night Abby, be good to Mrs. Harrison." The call was coming to a close. "I love you too."

Susie smiled at him and nodded, taking her turn to call home now that he was finished.

"Wally is heating up soup in the break room. The stove's thankfully working." She called after him as she dialed the number.

"Everyone camping out there?" He asked as he looked back at the voice actress.

"Everyone but Joey, that devil of a man actually has an insulated office... The rest of us are sleeping by the stove." She sighed "Thankfully Norman and Grant thought ahead and brought a few blankets to stay warm."

Clever thinking and also a necessity, as Grant's office was very drafty, and Norman's booth got cold from the pipework frosting over a bit (since the music department had been a repurposed bathroom) in cold weather. Mr. Cohen also knew the likelyhood of Joey having paid the heating bill. Slim to none.

"Great... Just what I wanted, to sleep in a stuffy room full of people and the smell of that rancid soup..." A soup he'd enjoyed at first (due to it reminding him of his father's cauliflower soup which had little bits of bacon in it), but which had lost its luster on the third week of being asked to take a few cans home. Abby hated the stuff so he'd had to eat it himself. "Don't you just love getting snowed in?"

"Only when I was a child. The snow usually meant no classes." Susie finished dialing and waited for her mother to answer.

He left her alone to go back into the break room where Wally and Norman were passing around bowls of soup. Grant greeted him with a blanket, which he graciously took. The damn studio was absolutely freezing in November. The freak snowstorm hadn't helped.

Honestly he'd loved the look of a snowy New York when he'd first moved here with his father. It had looked beautiful and new, almost magical, unlike the ranch he'd grown up in until he was 11. Looking back now, he missed the expanse of snowy fields instead of the cold streets. He also missed watching a few of the animals play in the snow.

Getting stuck in the studio made him a little nostalgic.

"Here ya go Sammy!" Wally passed him a bowl of soup, which he nearly dropped in surprise, and grinned "It ain't my ma's beef stew and it definitely lacks a spoon since we don't got that many of those to begin with, but at least it'll keep you warm from the inside!"

"I, yes at least that." He sniffed it and grimaced. Pork grease and chunky bits that definitely were less bacon and more cartilage. "You ever wonder how they made this slop?"

"I'd rather not think about it. It's like hot dogs ya know... The less you know about it, the better they are!" The janitor shrugged and went to sit on one of the chairs closer to the stove. Everyone was very much huddled close by, swaddled in shared blankets, rubbing their hands together to keep them warm, or drinking soup.

Norman nodded at the music director once he sat down to join the group. Not too long after Susie was sitting beside him, and he offered to share his blanket with her.

"So, what do we do now?" Wally asked as he looked around. The issue would be sorted in the morning but it was still only a quarter to eleven and no one was particularly keen on sleeping just yet.

"I'll tell ya what we could do!" Shawn called out from his spot, voice slightly muffled by his big red scarf. "I say we pass t'time by indulging in the ye old grand art that is story tellin'!"

"Story telling? What, like a sleepover?" Jack questioned. Sammy found it amusing that he'd swaddled himself in his blanket in a way that pressed his hair tight against his skull, to the point where it looked like a makeshift scarf and ear mitts. "Like when we were little kids?"

"Well we're all sleepin' here t'night aren't we? And ya don't need t'be wee little ankle biters t'go tellin' stories." Shawn huffed "Besides, what better way t'know yer co-workers than share some harrowin' tales? I sure got a few that'll intrigue you folks I'm sure."

"Is it about potatoes?" One of the art department workers asked, only to get a slap on the back of the head and an elbow to the ribs.

"Very funny, that muppet over there's a real comedian coddin like that..." The Irishman rolled his eyes. "Right, you folk ever hear 'bout the legend o'the banshee?"

Everyone gave him a peculiar look, which Shawn took as permission to carry on.

"The tale varies some dependin' on t'person who tells ya. But the way me ma told it to me was somethin' like this: The banshee is a sweet singin' virgin, pretty as a button, a real feek." He tapped his chin thoughtfully as he recalled his mother's words. "Sometimes she has long black hair, other times it's a bright red like fire. Always pale... But don't be thinkin' she's just some little lady, oh no. The banshee is a spirit, one that heralds death in the family. Her ghastly cries precede the death o'loved ones and fill ya with a mighty chill o'dread... And I saw one when I was just a wee lad."

"Ya saw... A ghost?" Lacie wrinkled her nose. "And ya sure it wasn't some regular girl you just saw?"

"Couldn't o'been. She was right outside the window Lacie. And me room was on the second floor..." Shawn shook his head "And I knew it had to o'been a banshee. She looked just like me cousin, who died o'the shakes a few months prior. My pa always did say she might come back as the household haunt, she wasn't ready t'leave just yet."

"So, that's it? You saw some apparitions at your window and think it was some folklore horror?" Sammy rolled his eyes.

"Yep. An' then in the morning me grandpa was dead. Dreadful song she went and had t'sing. I was just 5 too! T'damn beour coulda gone bother me brother instead... He was t'one that used to scare us wee lads with these tales o'ghosts n' ghoulies..."

Well, that wasn't a very nice story. And it likely had a reasonable explanation behind it too. Just a small child frightened by tales and likely still coming to terms with losing a cousin.

"Oh, that's nothin'!" Wally grinned. "Ghost stories aren't anythin' compared to what I found in a ditch when I was 8!"

"Oh yeah? Then enlighten us, oh scare Meister!" Shawn barked back, glaring slightly. "What coulda been worse than a banshee?"

"How about a maneater?" The janitor offered.

Shawn fell quiet and others began to whisper among each other at the claim, before Norman began to hush everyone.

"Go on then... Yous can't just say that an' not tell us."

"Oh man, it was the dang scariest thing I'd seen as a kid!" Wally grinned. "Us tykes from Brooklyn? We didn't grow up with monster stories and such. Our mas and pas told us about kidnappers and murderers instead, cuzz those are like, real dangers you know?"

He took a sip from his cooling bowl of soup, before clearing his throat.

"But you know what kids are like. They like adventure and don't really listen too much cuzz, you only believe it when you see it!" He carried on. "Me? I was with a couple a pals exploring this old ditch that had some neat stuff people used to throw in there. Busted watches, trinkets, sometimes a lost wallet with a little bit of cash in it...Well that day there wasn't just goodies."

Sammy sipped his own soup and felt Susie's arm brush up against his as she got on the edge of her seat. She was excited to hear wherever Wally's story was going.

"Local news had like, been going on about this one loon that had run off from the big house or somethin'. Some big mug who was a pervert or whatever. Adult stuff we kids didn't care for." Wally looked around as he spoke. "Only he wasn't no pervert, just really messed in the head. A cannibal. A cannibal that liked eating little tots. You know, stories like Little Johnny went pokin' around where he shouldn't and now there was no Little Johnny no more? Yeah that nearly was us."

"You found the guy in the ditch?" Sammy guessed.

"Nope! Found my neighbor, Sally, partially eaten and all kinds o' messed up." Wally replied "I figured we were in trouble so we ran like our butts were on fire and screamed the whole way back. Coppers caught the fucker and his picture on the paper still gives me nightmares. If we'd found him instead, we woulda ended up like Sally!"

Everyone looked extremely disturbed at the thought of a couple of 8 year olds finding another child's partially eaten corpse.

"Shite... No wonder yer such a mog. Brooklyn's fucked up!" Shawn winced.

"Hey!" Wally pouted.

"Also your story was misleading. You didn't actually encounter the "maneater"." Sammy pointed out. "That's not how you should advertise a tale you twit."

"Would ya rather I have found the creep that did it?"

"No, next time just don't make it sound like an actual encounter when it's an anecdote about another outcome entirely."

"Don't go bein' an ass Lawrence." Norman called out. "I thought the story was good. Messed up, but good... Granted it don't top what I experienced when I was still in the cradle."

"Oh, this ought to be good." The blond smirked. "Word of mouth?"

"My Nanna never told no lie. Yous won't find a more honest lady." Norman smirked back.

At this point everyone had finished their soup and was practically laying or leaning against one another for warmth. It helped that the story telling atmosphere had all but made everyone forget about the cold.

Norman being so tall and obscuring the stove ever so slightly, cast strange shadows on the wall.

"Now, this happened a few months after I was born. My Nanna was lookin' after me while my mama and memaw was helpin' my pops and pepaw out in the cotton fields. My brother and sister wasn't that much older either, not yet ready to go pickin', so they was in their room playin' together." He leaned back in his chair, a content smile on his face "Nanna was just preparin' lunch while I was layin' in this big ol' basket full o' pillows and blankets, just sleepin' away like babies do. She turned 'round to chop up some carrots when she had this weird feelin' all of a sudden."

Sammy put an arm around Susie as he listened. Norman was a pretty good story teller. Had this voice that just pulled you in. He could almost imagine a little chubby baby in a basket while an old lady prepared food in the kitchen.

"Nanna Polk always had a feel for when things were no good all of a sudden. She'd known when Poppop weren't doing well in the head, and she knew how to pop a shot into a big gator when it got too close to the house. She wasn't afraid o'nothin'." Norman carried on. "But she was afraid. She was afraid when the blade o'her knife caught the reflection o'this big brute pullin' my basket out the window."

Sammy winces and Susie tightened her grip on his arm. The others were quite aghast as well, at the thought of an innocent little babe getting snatched away by some stranger.

"Nanna didn't scream. She didn't wanna scare my siblings you see... Instead she tiptoed towards the backdoor, knife in hand, and kept outta sight o'the man that was tryin' to take me away." Norman hummed as he thought back on what Nanna had told him. "You know, they often tell ya 'bout southern hospitality. If yous is friendly and respectful, yous always got a friend. They don't tell yous about Louisiana ladies like my sweet Nanna tho... They is forged of iron and grief. Strong and protective o'their youngins... She knew what that man wanted from me, an' she wasn't bout to let it happen."

"What did she do?" Wally asked, bitting his knuckles as he put his legs up to his chest.

"Put the knife through his back. She pushed him so he wouldn't go an' fall on me, oh 'course, and that basket well about saved my life cuzz it was damn well padded and didn't so much as wake me when it hit the ground."

"Holy shit..."

"Now, that might sound a little extreme to yous, but I trust Nanna's judgement." Norman began once he noticed the horrified looks on his coworker's faces. "That man woulda taken me somewhere no one could'a gotten me from, an' she wasn't 'bout to lose anyone else to them creeps. Nanna was smart, and Nanna was hard workin'. She buried the bastard where he fell, an' planted a tree t'remember it too. I got to put a swing on it when it grew big enough to support the weight."

"Where were they going to take you?" Sammy finally asked, once he realized no one would do so. "The man?"

"Hm, well I don't know exactly. But she did say it was where my Poppop grew up, so I know it wasn't a good place." Norman frowned. "They did bad things to him, made him messed up in the head an' dangerous. Nanna saved me from endin' up the same way... Don't care if it wasn't the right way t'do it, them folks don't deserve no pity if they go stealin' babies from their cribs t'do god only knows what."

"Well... For what is worth, we're glad your nanna saved you Norman. You're a gem." Susie smiled which got the much larger man to chuckle.

"How's that for a story then? Anyone steppin' up to top it off?"

No one seemed to have anything that quite matched the energy of this... What should he call it? Cultist kidnapping story? It certainly sounded that the man was some underground cultist if he was taking babies to indoctrinate, or whatever...

The blond watched, saw no one step up to the challenge, and then remembered.

"Well, it may not be as bad as getting snatched away. But I do recall a rather peculiar set of events from before I moved to New York with my father." He began, the band members snorting and whispering among themselves that it was probably something stupid. He glared their way before looking at Norman who gestured for him to go on.

"Floor's all yours Sammy."

"Right." He thought back, way back when he was 10. Just a year prior to his mother's death. It was all a little foggy but the more he concentrated on what his father had told him about that night, the less his explanation made sense once correlated with his own memories. "I didn't exactly grow up in the city. Not until I was 11 that is... I actually lived in a cattle ranch for a while."

"That explains why you call us sheep." Johnny laughed.

"No, I call you sheep because your job is to follow me, you damn goat." Sammy snarled back at the interrupting organist.

"Ouch." Jack winced.

"Either way, as a child living with a father who raised cattle for a living, one can expect that I was often tasked to help with a few of the animals. Mainly cleaning the pens and, if I was particularly lucky, shearing the sheep." The sheep, he confesses, had been his favourite. They were dumb and cute. "My father usually dealt with the larger animals. When this event occured, he'd just bought a big healthy heifer. His ornery old bull had covered our best breeding cow but she'd not been having calves."

"Was she called Bessie?" Wally grinned.

"The name of the cow isn't of importance!" Sammy rolled his eyes. "It was Felicity by the way."

"My mistake."

"Either way, my father was a breeder, so his breeding female not producing offsprings was a big deal. I was a kid so I wasn't particularly interested if Felicity had issues, I just liked watching her when she had little calves. They were the cutest thing right after the baby lambs." Sammy carried on "The new heifer, Clarabelle, arrived that day and immediately the bull was put to working. My father thought That'd be the end of his problems... An easy fix. Except it wasn't..."

"She sterile?" Norman asked.

"Oh I wish that had been it. I was 10, had seen animals in plenty of states from sickness or wild animal attacks. But never had I seen a cow turned inside out, other than in a damn butcher's..." Sammy shuddered. He could still remember it... Going outside to get the eggs like his father had asked, and just finding this massive dead heifer with no skin on her body. His mother had said he'd screamed like the devil himself had been before him.

"Oh god..." Susie gagged slightly. "That couldn't have been nice..."

"It wasn't. I was freaked out and my father was furious. Clarabelle had been an expensive purchase. And she wasn't the only casualty." Sammy shook his head. "The pen was wrecked, the bull was in better state but no less dead, and poor Felicity must have run into whatever butchered them both because she had a massive wound on her hind. Every animal was spooked out of their minds and even our sheepdog wouldn't come out of the house. Peed himself when we tried coaxing him."

"Did ya find what did it?" Shawn asked.

"No, we couldn't find anything that explained it." Sammy carried on. "No tracks, no trails of blood, nothing. The pen was just ruined, like it had been splintered apart, and Clarabelle looked to have just... I don't know how to explain it. Pop? Like a balloon?"

"I figure your father wasn't too keen on going' about business after that?"

"He wanted compensation, but you can't exactly put the blame on anything if you can't even find a cause." The music director sighed "We eventually just decided to call it quits on figuring out what the hell happened and went on with our lives. But then things just got... Weird."

Strange lights at night, bizarre noises, and horrific night terrors. Sammy's father had lost his patience when he'd found their dog's remains and called the authorities.

"We were all on edge, unsure what was going on at the ranch, and losing animals every night. My father called the cops, saying someone must be playing some seriously messed up joke to terrorize us. He'd made a lot of enemies with his attitude over the years, so I wouldn't have been surprised..." He trailed of, beginning to feel goosebumps as he recalled the final night of these strange occurances. "And then one night I saw something strange out of my window. Stranger than anything else."

Everyone was eager for the conclusion, he could tell. Taking a deep breath, he recounted what he'd been a witness to.

"I wasn't sleeping well, no one was, but I just couldn't settle in bed that night. It felt too warm in my room so I got up to open a window." His 10 year old self had always struggled with the latch on his window, but not that night. That night it opened without a fuss. "I saw... A figure. Out in the fields. Cast in weird green light that I couldn't put a source to. They were tall, and I couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman, but I assumed man because there wasn't a hair on its head... I just stared, and it looked to be staring back. Next thing I know, I'm outside in my pajamas, staring up at this pitch black figure... Taller, imposing, faceless. No eyes, no nose, no mouth... And yet it felt like it was glaring hatefully at me. Frustrated, angry... It pointed at the woods and I don't... I don't know what it wanted and I was just a scared kid."

He gulped heavily as he recalled how oppressive everything had felt.

"Again I blacked out, but this time awoke inside to my mother fanning me. My dad was yelling at the cops and it was morning." Sammy frowns "Yelling at them to get that damn thing off his property, and to fuck right off since they were so useless at their damn job."

A soft amen from a member of the writer's department. Followed by a chuckle from another one.

"My throat was raw, and when I tried to ask what happened, my mom told me they'd found me outside at the edge of the woods, screaming until my voice went. Screaming about wanting out of the woods. Screaming about wanting to go home... Screaming that nothing here was good to eat and that I was going to die... I don't recall doing it, and my father said I'd probably had a nightmare of some kind. A fever dream even, since mom had been trying to cool me down for a good reason." He bit his lip "It's odd, I'd just fallen ill overnight and everything was fuzzy... I asked why the cops were here, and my father said when he'd gone to get me he'd spotted a weather balloon of some kind in the woods. The cops were there to take it away."

Everyone stared, confused and trying to figure out how these events connected. He gave them a shrug.

"I have no idea what was going on, so don't ask. I was 10, animals were dying weirdly, and I got so sick all of a sudden that I started sleep walking and hallucinating demonic figures. No one ever said anything about the weather balloon in the local paper either, so I don't even know what to think of that." He leaned against Susie "It was weird, but it stopped. Still that thing kept appearing in my nightmares for a while... It faded with time but it bothered me while it was still fresh in my mind."

"Sounds like aliens." Wally pips up.

"No such thing." Bertrum laughed at the suggestion. "Just a bunch of vandalism, fallen governament property, animal attacks, and a child's overactive imagination."

"No, I'm serious! Stuff like that happens in farms all the time! Stuff no one can explain..."

"Wally, there's tons o' things none can explain in this world already." Norman pointed out. "I'm not sure what sorta thing Sammy might o' stumbled upon as a kid... But little green men don't sound plausible."

"Oh come on, ain't it obvious? Cows gettin' killed, the strange damages? The fallen thing in the woods? The spooky figure? The one person who no one would believe being chosen to see the alien? Then the cops just swoopin' in and covering it up? Happened just the same to my uncle Paul!"

"What I saw wasn't little or green. Don't make it another one of your outlandish tall tales." Sammy grinned, enjoying how much Wally was puffing up.

"Bite your tongue! It ain't a tall tale!"

"Sure it's not."

"Boys don't fight... Because I've got one heck of a story that'll make Norman's and Sammy's feel like child's play!" Susie cut in, with a devilish grin of her own.

And so the night carried on, with more stories to be shared. All the while Sammy laughed and listened, content with the situation.

Although... He did still wonder what he'd seen out in the field. Surely it couldn't have been extraterrestrial.

Hm... Yes, surely not. Just a bad dream and some sick prank. Had to have been.

[theonceoverthinker]

109. If one could be the leader of food-based Fair Game HC’s, I’d totally be the piz-CZAR!

Pizza, the food we all love! And Fair Game totally loves pizza, too!

...Look, they can’t all be super complicated...

Let’s just get to it.

-Clover and Qrow can never agree on pizza toppings. They either like what the other hates, or like the same things, but are never in the mood for them at the same time. They’re basically stuck ordering plain pies in order to ever enjoy a pie together. Despite this point of contention, they both love pizza and get it at least once a month.

-I have this great image in my head of there being some Branwen/Ebi/Rose/Xiao Long family get together and contest where the winner gets to choose the pizza topping that comes with dinner. Basically everyone tries to stop Clover from winning because they KNOW what he’s going to choose as the topping if he wins. However, one doesn’t have a good luck semblance without winning every once in a while. I’m just imagining Ruby especially loudly crying  as Clover smiles victoriously. And once the pizza arrives, everyone but Clover and Blake grimace at the anchovies that cover the pizza.

-Speaking of, whenever Clover eats anchovies on his pizza (Or anchovies ever), Qrow refuses to kiss him for the rest of the day. Clover then makes it his personal mission to kiss Qrow on the lips before they turn in for the night (Qrow will try to dodge him, but accepts the kiss whenever Clover’s successful). He never fails. Qrow always pretends to be grossed out by this, but he really plays it off as more of a big deal than it really is to him. At some point, he actually grows a taste for the saltiness, but of course, he never tells Clover this.

-Qrow, meanwhile, loves Hawaiian-style (Or Remnant’s equivalent of Hawaiian-style) pizza, while Clover despises it (#PineapplePizzaRights). He and the others in the Branwen/Rose/Xiao Long family bond over their enjoyment of the mixture of sweet and salty. Clover has never seen the appeal, and absolutely refuses to try it. Unlike Qrow with the anchovy pizzas, he won’t refuse to kiss Qrow when this happens, but he’ll make his disgust pretty clear. Sometimes, during those aforementioned pizza topping contests, everyone (Except Blake and Weiss) will band together to get pineapple pizzas for dinner. Clover takes off the entire layer of the cheese because he absolutely refuses to to try Hawaiian pizza. Qrow smirks at him and says he’s “missing all the good stuff,” shoving the entire layer Clover discarded on top of his current slice while Clover gags watching him.

-This might be the New Yorker in me, but Qrow and Clover are total lowkey pizza snobs. They have places they’ll order from, places they know to never order from, places that have the best deals, places that have the best toppings for occasions where they just want to order individual slices -- the works. When it comes to choosing the right pizza restaurants for lunches and dinners, despite their many, many disagreements on pizza, they are in complete agreements as to the quality of any given place.

Tagging @homokinetic @skybird13 @whipped4qrow @mooksie01 @luck-of-the-caw @xwildangel @solitude-of-stars @magneto-is-neato @o0nashipear0o @unfairgamey @doctorrwby @clover-and-co @megan-atthedisco @wash-my-brain @bisexualdisasterqrow @baelonthebrave @doubledexterity @rwby-things-i-guess @atlas-heartthrob @the-answer-was-bi-klance @compoterie @thuskindlyiboop @oceansquid @transdemion @deltastream21 @mimiori @xya-hunter @delta-altair @genderfluidturtle @roman-torchtwink @subatomictealeaves @drbtinglecannon @saphiralunaris @pretentiouskneecaps

Want to be tagged in future Fair Game HC’s? Of course, you do! So send me a reply, PM, or ask to be added, and I’ll grant your greatest wish! XD

[bngtanah]

I'm (not) With The Band. | Prologue

summary: Adrienne is an indie producer who is hired to help co-produce BTS’ next album alongside their resident producer; Suga. Despite the initial opposition on both ends, the pair spend time together, share a few stories, dreams and aspirations and begin to hit it off really well. Wrapped up in the whirlwind of late nights and heated disagreements and reconciliations, Min Yoongi and Adrienne Rolle find themselves growing closer and closer. One night they decide to cross the barrier between personal and professional and do their best make a relationship work against all odds.

pairing: Min Yoongi  x Named OC

genre: drama, romance, smut

chapters: prologue| o1| o2| o3| o4| o5| o6| o7| o8| o9| 10| 11|

warning: light angst, smut, fluff, workplace relationship, slow burn, sexual themes, ambw, enemies to friends to lovers, developing relationship

a/n: still a fool. still re-uploading.

"It's good money, Adrienne."

Adrienne rolled her eyes quickly underneath her eyelids and switched her attention away from the woman sitting next to her.

"I get that but there is no way I'm moving to Korea, I can't even find Korea on a map!"

Adrienne and her older sister had been having this roundabout conversation for at least an hour and a half with no end in sight since neither side seemed interested in giving in.

"So what are you going to do? Just stick around here and make amazing songs for shitty rappers and musicians that don't wanna pay you?" Danielle's voice was monotone and completely lacking any tangible emotion but Adrienne could understand that this was her sister's way of trying to appeal to her common sense. "An opportunity like this doesn't knock twice, little one."

Adrienne bit back a witty remark because despite how much she didn't want to admit it she knew that her sister was right. She was barely making ends meet with the seedy pool of customers she had now and the select few that actually paid her on time only wanted to shell out pennies for what Adrienne considered high-quality work. There were times over the past few months when the money wasn't coming in and reactions from her clientele had her seriously doubting her talent that Adrienne genuinely regretted not going to college. There was no a guarantee that she would have been any better off than she was now but the constant 'what if' always made her second guess her choices when things weren't going her way. Her life now wasn't perfect but it was comfortable, she rented an efficiency from one of her sister's friends and worked a few odd jobs here and there to keep up with the bills. It was a simple life that she enjoyed and Adrienne wasn't so sure she had the courage to give it up.

"Alright, let's say I go for it" Adrienne stated in a softer voice.

"What happens if I can't keep up or they hate all my songs or they hate me? I wouldn't be able to come back here as a failure and honestly, Dani I don't know if I have what it takes to do this." Her voice wavered with raw insecurity as she nervously she began pulling on the ends of one of her long braids.

If Adrienne was being honest with herself, her own self-doubts were the main obstacle holding her back from just accepting this job. She was reasonably excited about the thought of moving to a different country and Danielle; who was married and expecting a child of her own, was the only family she had left. It was time for her to stop depending on her for so much and start carving out her own place in the world.

"Do you really think they would have contacted you if they didn't think you were more than good enough?"

"To be honest, I don't know why they reached out to me in the first place. All the music on my SoundCloud is in English and I've never heard of this company before they emailed me."

"Because it's good, dumb-dumb!" Danielle exclaimed while tugging on one of her sister's braids. "What's the name of these people again, you know I have to google," She asked with her phone already in hand.

"BigHit, I already looked them up. It's legit"

Danielle nodded but dismissed Adrienne's statement with a flick of her wrist, she needed to research everything for herself if she was going to send her baby sister off to some strange company for a job that may not even be real.

"Seriously, Dani I've looked it up they are an actual music company" Adrienne leaned forward to snatch the phone out of her hands, "They told me that if I decide to work with them I'd be working with a boyband called BTS."

"Boyband? Those still exist?"

"Yes! I was so confused at first but they're the real deal...which is another reason I don't want to go. I've been researching their songs from last year and the year before that and I don't know who's doing their music now but it's really good. Here, listen to this-"

Adrienne tossed her sister's phone back onto the couch and pulled her laptop off the coffee table and onto her lap, "It's all in Korean so ignore the words and just pay attention to the melody like I did" she informed as she pulled up 'Let Me Know', one of the recent tracks she'd been replaying.

Her eyes fell closed gently once she hit play and the first note rang out and Adrienne allowed herself to become lost in the music once again, she couldn't understand the lyrics but even without knowing the language Adrienne knew too well the feeling of heartache and desperation this song was meant to make you feel. That was always something she appreciated about music, no matter where you were from or how old you were a good song could bring people together in ways that words often couldn't. To Adrienne music truly was a universal language.

Once the song finished Adrienne put her laptop aside and looked up at her sister with a childlike stare, anticipating her reaction. "What? It's pretty" Danielle responded and Adrienne's shoulders immediately slumped downward.

"Pretty? Is that all you have to say?" 

"Yup. That's my review, it is a pretty song." 

"You sicken me, do you know that? If you weren't carrying my niece we would be pillow fighting right now." Adrienne grumbled and leaned down to pressed a kiss to Danielle's rounded tummy. She wasn't big yet but she was definitely beginning to show. 

"I keep telling you not to get your hopes up, Lloyd's siblings are all boys."

Adrienne pursed her lips and ignored Danielle then whispered to her stomach. "Shhh, I can tell you're a girl." 

"Stop talking to my fetus and get back up here, I'm not joking with you Andy I really think you should go for this job"

Adrienne bit the inside of cheek and slumped back against the cushions, she was silent for a few minutes as she tried to collect her thoughts and recall all the points that were made in their previous conversation.

"How am I supposed to fly half way around the world and tell these people that I can make better music than what they have now?"

Danielle sighed, her fingertips grazing over Adrienne's shoulder to gain her attention before pulling her into her arms to hug her and rest her chin against the top of Adrienne's head. 

"Do you think you're talented?"

"Yes....but-"

"Butts are for ashtrays, Adrienne. You are talented and that's the end of it, when you worry too much about comparing yourself to other people then you start in with the doubts. You didn't go to them they came to you, that wouldn't have happened if they didn't know that you were more than qualified for this." 

"I don't want to leave you."

"Oh little one," Danielle cooed and kissed Adrienne's scalp, threading her fingers through the younger girls braids, "I am going to be fine, I have Lloyd! And you're going to be making so many new friends you won't even have time to miss me."

Adrienne sniffed and wrapped her arms around her sister in a tighter hold, "You better not have this kid until I can come back and visit" She replied through the few tears that were falling from the brim of her eyes.

"Does that mean you're going?"

"I guess I'm moving to Korea."

"This isn't a joke, right? There aren't any hidden cameras, you're really going to let me do this?"

The excitement in Yoongi's voice was as foreign and authentic as the short happy dance he did in the middle of Bang Si-Hyuk's office before he caught hold of himself and regained his cool composure. 

"Yes I'm being serious" Si-Hyuk answered with a tiny grin "You've been showing a lot of improvement lately and I think you should take the lead on producing the group's next release."

Pale pink lips spread into a wide and almost child-like grin, those were words that Yoongi never thought he would hear. He always appreciated being able to contribute a song or two to their albums but to have the control and relative creative freedom over an entire body of work for his group was a professional goal that he never thought possible so early in his career. It really was too good to be true.

"Of course..." Si-Hyuk spoke up again and Yoongi came crashing back down to reality. 

"With your schedules and other responsibilities, it wouldn't be ideal to leave all the work on your shoulders alone."

"I assumed the producers here would be assisting me"

"Most of them are busy with other projects, we've decided to contract someone from the outside to co-produce along with you."

Yoongi nodded and leaned back in his seat, pressing his index finger against his lips in thought and to prevent himself from speaking out of turn. He didn't like this idea one bit and the previous feeling of excitement he had was dulled significantly by the thought of having to collaborate with someone he didn't even know. He wanted to speak up, voice his opposition before he was saddled with the dead weight of a co-producer who probably had no idea what they were doing. But he knew it wasn't his place to say no to a plan that was already in motion and he didn't want to jeopardize the opportunity he was being granted. 

"Okay, when do we start?"

[nautiscarader]

Kainora - telepathy

That was created back in september, and it somehow has 3k words o_O

Also, yay, first for Kainora!

()(Ao3)(Next>>)

On nights like these, Jinora found it difficult to meditate. Though she has leaned against her flying bison, which she thought would grant her even greater connection to the spirit world, her mind was stirred, annoyed, unfocused. And at some point, the airbending master has snapped.

- Can you be quieter?!

Her sister nearly shrieked when Jinora fumed at her, and dropped her book.

- What? Did I flick the pages too loud? - Ikki barked back - Although I might have just fallen asleep and snored, this book is boring.

Jinora groaned.

- I’m sorry, I just… I can’t meditate. And I don’t think me getting angry at you will help achieve inner peace.

Ikki looked at her sister, as she curled against her sky bison. She opened her mouth, hesitated for a moment, and then decided to throw all the pretence outside their tent.

- I think I know why you can’t meditate. - Yeah? - Jinora raised her head from her position - Why? - You haven’t had Kai in three weeks. - You shut your…!

Ikki blasted a stream of air in her face in defence, which, for once, did not make Jinora redirect it, as she fell back onto the deep, fluffy fur of her companion.

- Wow, I defeated an airbending master! - Ikki cheered and did a lap inside their tent on her airball. - I was… distracted. - Jinora replied - Yeah. Cos you haven’t had your boyfriend in nearly a month!

Jinora slumped back onto the bamboo matt that separated them from the ground. And though she hated to admit it, Ikki was right. It’s been three weeks since different groups of airbenders moved to help other nations, and the two have been separated. There was not a single phone in the village, and while she could fly to Kai, it would take her half a day, even if they decided to meet half-way through. Letters helped only so much, and though he was quite skilful with words, nothing could compare them to the touch of his fingers, taste of his lips and the feel of his…

Jinora shivered. This was precisely what was blocking her chakras. The attachment to the earth, and the low, primal needs.

The needs that burned every night between thighs…

She let out a loud groan, and listened to Ikki’s giggling.

- See? Told you. - Wish I could meet with him somehow… - she admitted in desperation. - Can’t you, you know, materialise there? - Maybe. - Jinora replied - Spiritual projection is difficult, and I don’t know if it will work on such a long distance… and you would know this if you have gotten to page 247. - Yeah, but you can try, can’t you?

Jinora pondered for a while.

- Okay, but be perfectly quiet, got it?

Ikki nodded and leaned against the portable drawer, watching her sister. She took a deep breath, crossed her legs and became motionless, sans for a few strands of her hair that moved with her bison’s breathing. But even those calmed down soon, as her companion understood what she was doing.

Jinora was flying. Flying through vast deserts and canyons of Earth Kingdom they were in, trying to center on that one spirit she wanted to see the most. Five, ten, fifteen minutes… she was moving faster than any bison, flying firebender, or a dragon could. And then, suddenly, on the dark horizon, she spotted him, a small, bright dot that nonetheless filled her vision like a sun. When she saw another flying bison on the ground, she knew he was there, and in a moment’s notice she was outside Kai’s tent, and her heart fluttered.  

Their camp was mostly empty, and she was sure no one has spotted her. She hesitated for a moment how should she do it, and she was about to move through the front entrance, as if she was corporeal, but then, she dceided to sneak up on him. through the fabric, she could see his figure, sitting on his bedding, and she stuck her head through the wall of the tent, detecting no other human energies inside.

When her eyes lay upon his dark hair, strong jawline and perky nose, her lips curled into the giddiest of smiles. Over the years Kai has truly grown into a handsome man, so much so she started noticing some other air acolytes getting interested in him, and she was glad the two have been a couple for almost five years now. Then, she smiled even more when she noticed he had a book in his hand; though he could read, it was her, who introduced him to the wonderful world of literature, and several of their early dates were spent just lying next to each other, reading up on some novels borrowed from Republic City’s library.

She flew closer to see what was the title, but as she got closer, her heart suddenly sank, at the same time, as Kai let out a deep groan and fell to his back.

It was only then that Jinora saw that while his left hand held the book, his right was moving in the unmistakable, linear motion underneath his sheets. As his groans became more and more rapid, his book dropped to the ground, and Jinora let out a gasp when she noticed it was full of drawn figures of naked women.

- Kai! - Wha-? Aah!

In a split of a second, Kai shrieked, tried to cover himself up, curled and then performed what would be an impressive airbending maneuver if it wasn’t completely accidental, resulting in him tangling himself completely in his blanket.

- Ji-Jinora?! How-What-Don’t sneak up on me like that! - Hmph! - Jinora fumed - You should be glad I’m still here. I travel for miles, straining my powers just to see you, and… and…

She looked at the dirty book lying on the ground.

- …and you find yourself a… substitute? Or maybe a whole new girlfriend? - Jinora, no! - Kai cried and got to his knees, as he reached for the book. - L-Look at it. - Look? - she opened her eyes wide - Why would I even- - Just look.

He handed her the book, and the two stared in each other, Kai’s with his begging eyes and Jinora with her piercing gaze.

- I can’t take it when I’m projecting. - Oh, right, sorry. - Kai fumbled and opened the book for her.

Jinora flew closer and looked at what she thought would be a porno book she was told were sold in many dark alleys of Republic city. But then, she realised the figures making love had very few facial features, and her eyes were instantly drawn to the symbols of the chakras, drawn on the man’s and woman’s bodies. On each page, different poses were presented, some easy, some difficult, but each contained a few words of description, and what interested her the most, it showed the flow of energies within the couple.

- There’s was a… Healer in the village… she died a few years ago, and they didn’t know what to do with her books, so I thought I will take them with us. And… You know, I thought that maybe I could… - his face became reddened. - Maybe learn something from it? - Oh, Kai…

She looked up at her boyfriend and flew right into him, and her heart broke again, as she forgot she couldn’t kiss him.  

- I miss you so much… - I miss you too. - Kai replied - Oh, and-and… this is not all.

He grabbed the book and flipped it to its end, where, as Jinora saw, a few more loose pages were put.

- See, this book is, well, kinda old. It has love making positions for water-, fire-, and earthbenders, but, well, nothing for air. So…

Jinora flew around and moved over his shoulder. The loose pages contained many drawings of a young woman with short hair and airbending tatoos… and she didn’t have to think too hard to know who was the man with short, slightly messy hair making love to her.

- Kai… - words got stuck in her throat. - Wh-What? You-You don’t like it? I made your hair longer in a few pictures…

He flipped the drawings to show the two making love on an airball, depicting her inexplicably longer hair flowing as her body was torn with pleasure.

- No, Kai, it’s… Beautiful.

Kai blinked.

- Uh, weren’t you angry at me a moment ago? - Well, yes, but…

She paused, as emotions stormed through her.

- I always wanted to preserve more about our culture. And… I guess making love is part of it… - …even though we had to figure out a lot of it on our own. - Yeah! - Jinora flew around him and “sat” in his laps - Kai, we can publish this! A-Anonymously, of course. - I guess. - his face became crimson again - I-I tried adding the flow of energies, but don’t know if I made it right. You know, it’s not right with just…

He looked at his hand.

- I know. - Jinora hid hers between her legs. - Kai… There hasn’t been a single night when I didn’t think about you. When I…

She closed her hands between her legs.

- When I tried to contain this hunger - she whispered - But it can’t go… - I know. - he replied, trying to cup her face - It’s two weeks till the equinox. The we will be again in the temple.

At the same time, the two youngsters moved their faces together, Jinora already prepared for the disappointment. But then, as she closed her eyes, she saw him, and she felt his lips on hers. A spark flew right through her body, she opened her eyes, saw Kai’s bewildered stare, and then she was looking at Ikki.

- Kai! - she screamed and reached her hands. - What happened? - Ikki asked, looking more than confused at her sister, breathing rapidly, as if she was about to faint. - Wa-was I doing something? - …aside from sitting like a stone statue? - Ikki raised her brow. - I gotta go again.

She assumed her position again, and once more projected herself to the faraway village. But this time, with the taste of Kai on her lips it took her seconds. She appeared in his tent again, watching as he frantically looked around it for her.

- Jinora!

She flew to him, but once more, their bodies, or rather one body and one spirit just phased through each other.

- What was that? I felt- Did you- - Yes!

The two looked at each other for a moment, until Jinora flew right back to his rolled bed.  

- Let’s recreate this. You were sitting here… - Yeah… - No, you were meditating! - Jinora, honey, I assure you, I wasn’t, I’m pretty rubbish at this… - The legs, you were in the pose…

She frantically tried to touch his legs to move them into the correct positions, until he did it himself.

- Okay, then what? - I… I think I closed my eyes…

And then, no sooner than she’s done it, she saw him again. He was sitting in mid-air, on what appeared to be a starry night sky, and just like her, he was glowing and translucent. He was also naked. And a quick look down proved her that her clothes were gone too.

- Wait, how- - Don’t open your eyes! - Jinora spoke, with her eyes open, looking into his, very open eyes - I think…

She reached her arms and when she felt his skin underneath her fingertips, she nearly burst into tears. A moment later, she was all over him, kissing him senselessly, moving to every inch of his exposed skin, letting their three weeks abstinence take over her.

- Kai.. I… don’t know how does it work. I mean, how can I have my eyes closed and see you… and… and… - Ssh - he put is finger on her lips - I don’t know either, and I don’t care.

Her hair flew when he took her in her arms and kissed her exposed breasts, while he positioned himself between her legs. His mouth was then on her lips, then her other ones, then her ass, his finger brushing her folds and waist, seemingly at the same time. With her legs spread, she flew through space, gripping his untidy hair. She shrieked when his tongue lapped at the dripping wet sex of her, and he groaned when her lips closed around his cock at the same time, tasting the salty, potent, musky flavour of her boyfriend in her mouth, and feeling it deep down in her throat.

And then, he was inside her, filling her with the shape and form she’s been missing. They’ve been moving in sync for hours, or maybe just a few seconds, but she was already exploding for the third time, clinging to his body, digging her nails into his skin, while he filled her again and again, spreading his virile warmth inside her body, while another climax tore hers apart. He was her, and she was him; she wanted his chakras to dominate and mingle with hers forever, especially when he was pushing himself into her again, this time from behind.

Lost in the pleasure he was giving her, she gave in to the bliss and let them fall through space, into another intercourse, but suddenly, her vision was filled with bright light from the lamp of his tent. For a split of a second, she could swear she was touching him, and from the look on his face, he could too, but then, he hand went right through him again.

The two looked at each other with the same, terrified looks on their faces. Kai’s forehead was filled with beads of sweat, as if he was in a deep fever. Jinora looked unfazed, but she certainly didn’t feel that way. She flew towards him, but before she could say anything the two heard footsteps behind her.

- Kai? - another airbender lifted the cloth door to his tent. - Something wrong? I think I heard you scream. - Ba…bad dream. I must have napped. Sorry, Gyu.

Jinora waited hidden behind him, until his friend left and flew back into her position, continuing their discussion with hushed voices.

- Kai… we’ve… we’ve done it. - But… how? - I… I don’t know. It felt like hours, or days, or… I don’t even know if it was real. - Oh, it… it was real.

Kai suddenly said and lifted his blanket, revealing his pants with a distinctive darker spot across his crotch.

- Man, I just changed those.

Jinora let out a giggle.  

- Jinora, do you know what does that mean? - Yeah! We can… be with each other. - Like in the temple. You can be in your room, I in mine, and we’d be meditating, and your father won’t be the wiser that we are having fun.

Jinora had to actively prevent herself from bursting into laughter.

- Well… I suppose you have to get better at your training then, to prevent… that… she pointed out to the single drawn page of his book, where a droplet of cum landed on the woman’s face. - Hm, I remember that night… - Er, what about you? - What? What about me? - Well…

Jinora’s eyes suddenly widened as she remembered about Ikki.

- I-I gotta go! - Wait! - Kai reached his hand, once again, in vain - Tomorrow? - Tomorrow. - she smiled and she was gone.

Defeated after the indescribable love making session, Kai fell to his bed, staring into the roof of his tent for good ten minutes. He then reached for his pages, gathered them and tried to collect his thoughts about what just happened. He will need way more paper.

Jinora’s eyes opened as rapidly as before, once again startling Ikki, though this time she didn’t fell to her back.

- Jinora? - Uh, Ikki… What happened? - You ask me? - a grimace of bewilderment appeared on her face - Did… Was I here? - Yeah. - All the time? I didn’t blink out or anything? - Well, I wasn’t looking all the time. - Ikki showed her the book.

Jinora pondered for a moment.

- How long was I with him? - Er, maybe ten minutes? - Ikki answered but then her face brightened - Wait… What do you mean “with him?” - Sh-Shut up! I-I gotta clean myself.

Jinora grabbed her towel, and rushed out of her tent to the bathhouse, while Ikki curled on the floor, laughing about “ghost sex”. Only when she arrived at the bathhouse, empty at this time of night, she was allowed to think about what happened. She disrobed herself, and she was pleased to see that unlike Kai’s, her clothes didn’t bear signs of any of her many orgasms she experienced with his spirit.

She moved her hands across her body, and she was about to walk into the pool, when she dragged her fingers across her sex, and felt… something sticky on her thigh. A single, small glob of white cum was smeared on her finger, and as she brought it to her lips, her suspicion was confirmed.

Jinora slumped over the wooden floor under the weight of the realisation. She has been with him. For just one moment, she was there, or maybe he was with her. Either way, she was sure she has achieved something she was sure no other airbender has ever even attempted, and the fact that she has done it to satisfy her carnal desires simultaneously made her ashamed and proud.

And then Jinora realised that for the past three weeks she had no motivation to protect herself, and if even if a drop of him got inside her, then she was in trouble. She quickly put on her clothes and ran back to their tent so she can brew her herbal tea.    

[redgillan]

Missed Chances - Part 7

Steve Rogers x Reader ♀️ [// Bucky Barnes x Reader for now]

Summary: 13 Going on 30!AU - Steve Rogers is crazy about you, but he’s afraid his feelings are only one sided and being one of your best friends, he doesn’t want to ruin your friendship… On his 13th birthday, he makes a wish and wakes up in the body of his 30 year old self. The problem is, you’re no longer a part of his life.

Word Count: 3,005

Warnings: The creep is back

A/N: No, this series isn’t dead. In this chapter the reader and Steve discuss her wedding dress and I really wanted to give you a dress you could picture in your heads. So that meant doing a lot of research to find a cut that would flatter all body types and a colour that would look good on all skin tones. It kind of smothered my muse, hence the long break. I hope you enjoy this :’)

“You fell asleep on his couch,” Sam repeated, shaking his head with a bewildered look on his face. A second later, he began laughing hysterically.  

Bucky looked around the bar, smiling awkwardly at the patrons who were staring at them. With a cringe, he took a large gulp of his lukewarm beer. Sam expertly dodged the peanut Bucky threw at him.

“Okay, let me get this straight.” Sam stopped laughing. “You drank two bottles of fancy-ass wine, passed out on the couch and let your girl alone with a super-hot billionaire.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty much what happened,” Bucky grumbled.

“You’re an idiot.”

Bucky couldn’t help but agree with him.

Sam was Bucky’s only friend. They had met a few years ago when Bucky was a rotisseur, a chef in charge of roasted meats. Sam kept sending his dish back, saying it wasn’t properly cooked, until Bucky had enough and served him raw lamb with a little note that said ‘cook it yourself’.

It hadn’t been professional, but it had made him feel a lot better. Somehow they became friends after that. Go figure...  

“You could have married her three years ago,” Sam continued with a pointed look.

“A City Hall wedding?” Bucky scoffed. “No, she deserves better than that.”

Sam frowned at him. “You need to get off your high horse, man. I got married at City Hall. Granted it’s less flamboyant than a fairy tale wedding, but it doesn’t matter when you’re in love. You only need each other.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I work 12 hours a day, six days a week, Sam. We rarely see each other and we live in a crappy studio apartment. The least I can do is give her a perfect wedding.”

“Whatever you say,” Sam shrugged. He was tired of having the same conversation again and again. “That deal you made with her company... I told you it was too good to be true.”

“You said it was legit,” Bucky reminded him.

“Yeah, it is, but I don't think you've thought this through. They offered to pay for your wedding if Steve Rogers agreed to create your girl’s wedding dress. Rogers said yes, and now their numbers are going up-”

“But it’s a good thing. She’ll keep her job and we’ll get married,” Bucky interrupted him.

“Dude, there’s a billboard in Times Square with your face on it,” Sam continued, undeterred. Bucky whined, he had seen the ad. It wasn’t exactly low-key. “You three are everywhere; Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Youtube... Rogers gave interviews to Good Morning America, Fallon and Ellen. The entire country knows about you, your fiancée and your former childhood best friend turned superstar.”

“You’re right, it’s a little crazy right now,” Bucky admitted. “But it won’t last. People will find a better story. She’s happy. That’s all that matters.”

Sam could have argued that you didn’t look happy the last time he saw you. In fact, you looked tired, stressed and a little disappointed. But he knew better than to tell a man he couldn’t make his girlfriend happy.

“I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

Bucky had no idea what he was doing. Things had been crazy lately, and he couldn’t deny that it was strange to share his thoughts and memories with complete strangers. It was part of the deal. Nothing was private anymore.

“A girl asked for my autograph yesterday,” Bucky revealed, a small smile on his lips. Sam raised a brow at that. “It took me completely by surprise, I just wrote ‘BUCKY’ in capital letters on a blank piece of paper.”

Sam choked on his beer, and coughed several times as the liquid fizzed out of his nose. Bucky pushed a napkin across the bar as Sam’s whole face scrunched up in a mix of pain and laughter.

“That fucking hurts,” Sam said, his eyes shiny with tears. Bucky looked strangely proud of himself. “You’re gonna kill me one day.”

With a mouthful of beer, Bucky got off the stool and threw two twenties on the counter. He took his jacket from the bar and made a show of crossing his fingers at Sam’s comment.

“Ass,” Sam countered, following him out of the bar.

*

Today was the day, your first Bridal appointment. You were beyond nervous, and the fact that this was all business wasn’t helping your nerves. Natasha was sitting next to you, typing away on her tablet while on the phone with Nick Fury. You wished you were that good at multitasking.

Things were moving fast. Natasha had already booked a band, and hired a photographer and a videographer. You were on board with everything, and even pitched the idea of a karaoke entertainment at the reception. She called you a genius and wrote it in her little notebook.

The magazine was thriving, the numbers growing. The first article they published was an exclusive interview of Steve Rogers and a little interview of you and Bucky –to get to know the happy couple.

The following month they revealed that the ceremony would take place at Bucky’s childhood home. It was something you had both agreed upon a long time ago, and Nick thought it matched the whole reunion theme.

Sometimes it felt like it was more their wedding than yours, but you thought I’d be rude to complain since they were paying for the entire ceremony.

“M. Rogers will see you now,” Steve’s assistant appeared before you, pulling you out of your thoughts.

Natasha waved Scott closer. He was standing near the elevator, FaceTiming with his daughter. He saw Natasha, nodded, and quickly wrapped up his conversation. The three of you followed the assistant to Steve’s office.

As soon as Natasha stepped into his office, she began directing everyone into position. Scott and you got so used to being bossed around that you both complied without question.

“Boys, move the couch closer to the window,” she said, looking around the office. “I prefer natural light for the pictures.” Then she turned to you. “This place is a mess, let’s tidy up.”

Steve grumbled something under his breath that made Scott laugh. Natasha gave him a sharp look and they both returned to their task. Once the place looked decent enough, you took a seat on the sofa next to Steve.

Natasha was telling Scott what to do –the kind of pictures she wanted for the Instagram, Twitter and Facebook as well as some pictures for the next article. Scott nodded while he adjusted the camera settings.

“Is she always like this?” Steve whispered in your ear.

A shiver ran down your spine. “Yes, she’s the boss,” you replied with a small laugh.

“She’s scary.”

You were both laughing quietly when you heard the sound of a camera shutter. Steve shifted awkwardly as he met your gaze, his face flushed red. You understood his discomfort.

“A little warning would have been nice,” you told your co-workers.

“Sorry, but the picture looks great,” Scott said, giving you a thumbs up.

“All right, we only have an hour so listen carefully,” Natasha began. “We’re going to take a few pictures and two can pretend you’re working on the dress. Act natural, but don’t forget to smile and don’t look at us. Then we’ll leave you two alone so you can start working on the dress. Questions?”

You both shook your heads. “No, we’re good.”

“Perfect,” she clapped her hands once, “let’s get to work!”

It was a little strange to pose without making it look like you were posing. Natasha was shouting directions at you and Steve while you tried to smile at each other.

Sit straight!

Steve, you’re hiding her face.

Hold that position, the light is perfect.

Finally, after twenty agonizing minutes, she announced that she had everything she needed. You sent up a silent prayer when she left the room. Scott packed up his camera and hurried out of the room when Natasha called out his name.

You slumped back against the sofa and sighed. Steve let out a small laugh as he sank into the cushions. He turned his head to look at you and smiled.

His smile caught you off guard. In that moment, he looked exactly like the boy you used to love and it made your chest tighten painfully. Life could be so cruel sometimes.

“We should probably start working on your dress,” he said, sensing your sudden anguish. He straightened up and fiddled with the sketch pad and mechanical pencil, giving you some time to pull yourself together. “So, do you have an idea of what you’re looking for?”

You sat on the edge of your seat. “Not really. I don’t know how these things work. How are we going to do this?”

Steve was only thirteen, though he looked like he was in his early thirties. He didn’t know anything about fashion, but it was his job and he had to do it right. He had gathered as much information as he possible on Bridal appointments. Internet, so helpful!

“We can look at some wedding dresses,” he told you, sliding a few magazines toward you. “Tell me what you like and I’ll make a sketch. Then my team will make a muslin. It’s just a mock-up. We’ll add the details later. How does that sound?”

He caught your eyes and saw the look of relief on your face. “Sounds great.”

You slowly flipped through the pages of the first magazine, pausing occasionally to show him what you didn’t like. You didn’t want to wear a crinoline, it made the skirt too poofy. The princess style looked beautiful on these models but you didn’t think it matched your personality, and it seemed really unpractical.

Steve listened carefully, jotting down notes in his notebook. “How do you feel about a mermaid-style dress? Remember when your mom took us to the open air theatre? We saw the Little Mermaid and you said it was the best movie you’d ever seen.”

“Yeah.” You giggled. “We were what? Nine, ten years old?”  

“Something like that,” Steve replied with a fond smile.

“Well, I hate to disappoint my nine-year-old self, but I think I’d prefer something a little more like the Muses in Hercules.” You turned the page, only to be distracted by a stunning gown. “Like this one!”

The dress fit closely, hugging the model’s curves in an elegant yet sensual way. It looked right out of a peplum movie.

“Oh yeah, that’s a um...” Steve closed his eyes shut and tried to remember the name of this particular type of dress. “It’s a sheath column dress!” he exclaimed with a huge triumphant smile.

“I like that,” you said, oblivious to his sudden outburst. “Do you think it’d look good on me?”

“Absolutely,” he said a little too quickly, then he cleared his throat and gave you a sheepish smile. “We have your measurements, it will look perfect.”

You made some modifications to the dress in the magazine. With Steve’s help, you chose a boat neckline instead of the heart shape neckline featured on the model.

You hesitated between two colours; alabaster which according to Steve would look good on anyone, and diamond white which was the perfect colour for an outdoor wedding.

“Silk is a good choice,” Steve approved while he finished his sketch. “You might be a little cold though, but we’ll figure something out.”

“Oh, don’t bother,” you said with a wave of your hand, “Natasha has already ordered ten outdoor heaters. It’ll feel like we’re on a tropical island.” Your laughter died in your throat when Steve showed you what your dress would look like. “Steve... that’s.... wow.”

He looked at his drawing with furrowed brows. “I think I messed up the proportions but-”

“It’s gorgeous,” you interrupted him. “I love it!” You took the sketch pad from him to get a better look. This was your dress. Your wedding dress. It all seemed so real now, it made the butterflies in your stomach dance. “So, it’s happening. In six months I’m going to be Mrs Barnes.”

“You can keep your last name,” Steve shrugged. He had been working so hard lately to pass off as a real fashion designer that he had almost forgotten you were going to marry Bucky. He fought against the urge to rip that stupid drawing in half.

“I know,” you said, “it’s just... a little weird, but in a good way.”

A knock at the door made you both jump. Natasha and Scott were back, and judging by the look on Natasha’s face, she must have received some good news.

“We posted that picture of the two of you giggling,” Scott said with a big smile. “People on Instagram are so kinky. You guys should read some of the comments, they’re priceless.”

“Scott,” Natasha said, her tone warning him to drop it.

“It’s crazy, some people even ship you two together. They want you to marry Mr America. That’s his nickname, Mr America! How cool is that?!”

Oh, that couldn’t be good... You really hoped Bucky wouldn’t read these comments. He wasn’t a big fan of social media, and he was too busy to even open the app. Though Sam would definitely call him if he read anything that seemed a little odd.

“Is that the dress?” Natasha asked as she picked up the sketch pad. Her eyes widened for a second before she smiled at Steve. “It’s beautiful. I look forward to seeing it on the bride.”

Steve’s secretary entered the room and informed him that his next appointment had arrived. He shook hands with Natasha and Scott, then turned to you, smiling hesitantly. A handshake seemed too formal, but he wasn’t sure you’d let him hug you.

He opened his arms to you and cocked his head to one side in silent question. You found his bashfulness endearing. He looked so young. You took a step forward to hug him.

“Thank you, Steve, for everything,” you said, making sure Natasha and Scott couldn’t hear you. Steve was warm and muscular, and yet incredibly soft. “You didn’t have to do all this. I’m glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad I found you,” he replied before releasing you. “I’ll see you soon.”

“The magazine’s throwing a party next month,” Natasha began as Steve walked the three of you to the door. “Our numbers are skyrocketing. This calls for a celebration. I’ll send you the details. It’ll be the biggest party of the year.”

When you got back to the waiting room, the secretary told you that Steve’s chauffeur would drive you and your colleagues to your apartments. You took a seat and tried to process what had just happened.

Natasha looked ecstatic, and you couldn’t understand why you felt so miserable. You needed to be alone with your thoughts.

“I’ll be back in a sec,” you told Natasha who nodded distractedly.

The waiting room was nicely furnished with comfortable leather sofas, fashion magazines on the marble tables –your magazine was on top of the pile- and a fancy water dispenser near the restroom.

You grabbed a cup and filled it with room temperature water, sipping it slowly as you looked around the room.

“Braceface!”

You felt a shiver come down your spine, the sound of his voice was like having your entire body dunked into ice cold water. He moved into your line of sight, a bright smile on his face. Had he always looked this terrifying?

“Hi, Brock.”

“So you remember me,” he said with a sickening smile, his tongue sweeping over his bottom lip. “Sweet.” He paused. “I heard you were getting married.”

“Yeah.”

“If you ever get bored,” he said, stepping into your personal space and handing you his business card. “I love married women, they’re so desperate for a good time.”

You felt trapped, like the day he had cornered you in Steve’s kitchen and asked if you wanted to have sex with him. You could feel the fear building up inside you.

You obediently took the card, your body automatically kicking in to self-preservation mode. Do what he says and he’ll leave you alone.

This part of the waiting room was hidden from view, meaning no one could see you right now. Brock had no shame, coming after you like that even though he knew you were getting married.

You wanted to scream, but you couldn’t move.

“Step away from her.”

You couldn’t see her, but Natasha’s voice held authority as she stood behind Brock with a seemingly calm demeanour. Brock took a step back, raising his hands in mock surrender.

“We were just talking,” he said.

She didn’t even spare him a glance. She searched your face for any sign of pain “You okay?” You nodded, not noticing the tear falling down your cheek. “We’re done here.”

She took a step forward and slung her arm around your shoulders, shielding your body with hers as you moved past Brock. You felt your heartbeat slowly returning to normal as Natasha ushered you toward the elevator.

You slowly came back to your senses, feeling a little embarrassed that you were –once again- the damsel in distress.

“That guy’s a dickhead,” Scott said, glaring daggers at Brock’s retreating figure.

“That guy is the co-founder of the brand, and a big name in the fashion industry,” Natasha mumbled, pressing the ground floor button. “He’s also a notorious creep. I’ll make sure we won’t run into him again.”

“You gonna have him whacked?” Scott asked, his eyes widening.

Natasha crunched up her face, clearly grossed out and confused. “No! I’m going to schedule our meetings at a different time. Have him whacked,” she repeated with a scoff. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“It’s just the way you said it,” Scott shrugged, “it sounded ominous.”

The elevator door slid closed while Natasha and Scott were bickering, but you weren’t listening to them. You wanted to go home.

You wanted Bucky to hold you close and snuggle with you for the rest of the day. But, more than anything, you wanted to know why Brock fucking Rumlow was still working with Steve.

[thejemersoninferno]

Treat you better.

· Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader.

· Request:  “Sebastian x reader, the reader has an abusive boyfriend and seb overhears them one day while on set and he basically rescues the reader by tackling her boyfriend while crew call the cops and like when cops arrive seb comforts the reader and maybe confessed his feelings for her? A small age gap between reader and Seb too? Thank you! I love you! You’re awesome! ❤️💕” by the lovely @afictionaladventure16. I don’t know if I got everything you wanted to read, also I’m sorry I took too long. Enjoy it.

· A/N: This request wouldn’t have been possible without the amazing @jewels2876 got Beta’d and helped me rewrite a thing or two. Isn’t she amazing? Thank you once again, darling. Much love x.

· Word Count: 5040. 

· Warnings: Language, sexual harassment, mentions of violence, angst.

On your twenty-fifth birthday, you got a call, your first time on the big screen as the lead actress; you have been cast as Beatriz Mitchell in book series called Hope. You have had small roles in other movies or TV shows. When you received the call you have gotten the part for Beatriz as the lead actress, you couldn’t stop crying. You called your family, who were happy and excited for you. Your boyfriend even agreed to go with you during the filming, as he didn’t want to miss a day without you. 

You discovered your co-stars through social media: your co-star and love interest, Sebastian Stan; your best friend, Scott Evans and other big names. You were nervous, happy, excited, and overwhelmed they have given you this opportunity but you wouldn’t take it for granted. 

You arrived at Florence three months ago, and your boyfriend hasn’t left your side since the day you arrived. You loved having him around and he loved to see you working. Filming with Sebastian was incredible; you had spent a lot of time chatting, working on your script or just playing around. As a result, he was becoming a very close friend. Your boyfriend Paul used to hang out with you and Sebastian until you had your first kissing scene together. Paul got angry and you two had a fight in your trailer. Paul thought you were cheating on him with Sebastian and you were furious he had doubted your word and your loyalty. After that fight, Paul never joined you on set again. Secretly you were glad because you couldn’t focus on him while working with Sebastian. The cast had been nothing but kind and a joy to you. You didn’t want Paul’s bad energy and negativeness around them or you. 

“Hey, you!” Scott greeted you on set.

“Scottie,” you cheered happily hugging him.

“How you doing?” he questioned sipping his drink.

“Good,” you sat next to him, “And you?”

“Not bad,” he shrugged, “my brother’s coming,” 

“Oh,” you murmured, “the best Evans,” you said playfully.

Scott opened his mouth in shock and then push you from his side. He started tickling you and you were trying to protect yourself from him. “Take it back,” he demanded.

“Never!” you laughed.

You carried on playing until you were called on set. For the next week, it would be only Scott, you and the extras on set. The rest of the cast wasn’t needed on set, except for Sebastian who had requested a week off due to some personal matters. You loved working with Scott, he was nice and you were joking non-stop, sometimes the director had to keep you far from the other or you would be too messy around the set.

“It’s weird,” you murmured fixing your clothes.

“What?” Scott asked looking up from his script.

“Uhm, I said that it’s weird being here without Seb,” you smiled at him.

Scott nodded your way and softly smiled filled his face.

“What?” you questioned arching your eyebrow.

“I was thinking…” he said sitting, “if you want to meet my brother?” he added nervously.

“You joking?” you laughed, “I’ve been listening to you two play around all this time and you wonder if I want to meet him?” 

“Well, yeah?” he said shrugging.

“I gotta meet the man who made you such a baby,” you chuckled. Scott opened his mouth slightly then shook his head as he pushed you aside gently. “You’re the worst,” he spat walking away.

You laughed loud and walked to your spot. You texted your boyfriend to tell him about maybe getting to meet his favorite actor; you were pretty excited yourself. Scott talked about his brother constantly; it was clear they were very close.

By the time you finished your day on set, your boyfriend hadn’t replied back to your texts or calls. On the other hand, Sebastian had texted you a lot, explaining how his day was going or what he had eaten. You smiled at the picture of Sebastian being the meme he is. He was lying down on the sofa, confused face and mouth slightly open, lost on his own confusion. You laughed hard and took a selfie sitting down on your small couch. 

“Boring day on set,” you added to the text and pressed send. You checked your social media and your texts, you waited a few minutes for Sebastian to reply. 

In the meantime, you updated your Instagram account with a picture of the sunset. You smiled and sighed remembering that day. 

You and Paul had argued before you went to set because he wasn’t happy with you spending so much time with Sebastian or around Scott. You ended up storming off your trailer pissed. You arrived at the meeting point where everyone was waiting for you. Sebastian listened to music on his phone, as usual while the other cast and crew chatted. They greeted you, then all of you jumped in the vans. You kept to yourself through the entire ride, speaking a little with a few of them. Sebastian watched you since the moment you arrived. In fact, he saw you walking to set, but at the look on your face, he knew it wasn’t a good moment to tease you.He waited and then moved slightly from  his spot, offering you one end of his earphones. You looked his way and he offered again.You didn’t hesitate and grabbed it, putting in your ear and listened to the music. 

You arrived at the big hill, the cast quickly catching up to the rest of the crew. The three of you walked to your marks, mesmerized. You filmed all afternoon. Just as filming wrapped for the day, the sunset left you all speechless, one of the best views you have ever seen. Scott agreed with you and so did the rest of the cast and crew. You sat down on the grass, taking it all in.Scott quickly sat down on your left, and everyone gathered around.. You felt an arm wrapping you around, and you sighed in relief when you saw it was Seb. You watched the sunset with your friends, who loved you and you were grateful. You hugged Seb, and after a few minutes, you took your phone out of your pocket and snapped a picture. You flipped the camera and you could see him looking forward, hypnotised by the views. You snapped another quick picture smiling at the camera and him completely lost in his own mind. Scott shouted selfie and the cast and crew posed smiling. 

You smiled again and the feed refreshed showing a picture of Paul with his friends. You sighed and went for a shower.

“Sorry, I was talking with my mom, x.” Sebastian replied back.

You brought another spoonful of noodles to your mouth and replied, “It’s okay, what are you up to? X.”

You two chatted for a while and then switched to Skype. You spoke over three hours until you felt tired and Sebastian sent you to bed. You whispered goodbye and hang up. You walked back to the small kitchen area, dropped the empty box on the bin, then walked to your restroom and after brushing your teeth, went straight to sleep.

You woke up to loud banging outside your trailer door and you groaned. You turned to the other side and tried to sleep again. The banging sound even louder and you growled. You walked to the door and flashed it open angrily, “What?!” you spat.

Scott stood there, a brown paper bag in a hand and Starbucks coffee in the other hand. You sniffed and smiled moving aside. “Why, hello there handsome,” you smiled.

“Morning to you too,” he laughed, “Long night?” he sat down on the little couch. 

“Yeah,” you mumbled sitting down, “Where’s your brother?” you questioned arching a brow while picking the bag he offered.

“Ugh,” he murmured, “he couldn’t come,” he said shrugging.

“Oh no,” you pouted, “Are you okay?”, You knew how much he missed his brother and he was excited to see him and for you to meet him. 

“Yeah,” he replied smiling your way, giving you your coffee.

“Well,” you said, “I’m sure he will come visit you soon,” you smiled.

“Sure,” he answered, “Got plans for tonight?”

“Not at all,” you replied, “Got anything in mind?”

“I’ve heard of this restaurant…” he said, your phone interrupting.

“Wait,” you said, walking to pick it up, “Hello?” you asked. 

Scott sat down eating his breakfast while you talked through phone and sipped once in a while on your hot coffee. You thanked Scott twice for it and he winked your way. You hung up, taking a seat next to Scott.

“New plans,” you smiled wide, “We have the day off!”

“For real?” he wondered.

“Yeah!” you replied, “The director said there was something with the press and we can have the day off.”

While you finished eating, Scott suggested the two of you explore a bit. You loved the idea and got ready quickly. You and Sebastian texted the whole day while Paul didn’t reply to a single text or answer your calls. Scott told you it will be okay; you decided to enjoy your day instead of worrying about Paul. 

Three months had passed since the last time you saw your boyfriend. You had been uneasy since the big fight; each conversation after had just gotten harder and harder. You felt bad for him because he had left his life behind to follow you.. You understood his position on seeing you kiss Sebastian. You could only reassure Paul he was the one for you. You had just come back to the new set in Atlanta after having a week off to visit your family and Paul. It hadn’t gone as expected and now you were locked in your hotel room crying your eyes out, thinking about a possible solution to your relationship issues. You had an extra day off because the weather wasn’t so good and part of the cast hasn’t come back yet. Your phone chimed and you wiped your tears away. 

“I know if you love me, you’ll make the right choice, forever yours.” Paul texted you adding a picture of the two of you smiling into the camera. You sniffed hard and broke down in tears again. You needed a friend; you needed Scott or Sebastian. Your phone chimed making you jump.

“Yeah?” you asked sniffing as you answered.

“What’s wrong?” Sebastian asked on the other side.

“Seb,” you whispered breaking down in tears.

“Hold on,” you heard him reply and then the phone went off. You fell back on your mattress and cried until you heard a knock on your door. You opened and cried on his arms.

“What happened?” Sebastian whispered on your hair, comforting you. You cried on his arms and tried to talk but you couldn’t. “It’s okay,” he said, “I’m here,”.

Sebastian covered you with your covers and picked up the boxes from the take away you had for dinner. He tidied up the room, making sure you were okay. He commanded Siri to wake you up the next morning on time to get ready for work. He kissed your forehead and walked to the door. He looked your way one last time and sighed heavily.

Your phone went off at 5 AM; you quickly stormed into the bathroom and had a quick shower. You got ready and went down to meet the cast to go to the set. You found Scott but no a sign of Sebastian.

“Morning y’all,” you said smiling. They greeted you happily, you chatted a bit about your week off and soon you filled the vans to go to set. You arrived half an hour later, you all walked to the hair and makeup trailer to get ready. You walked back to the set where you notice Scott and Sebastian murmuring to each other, ignoring the atmosphere around them.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” you cheered.

They looked your way and smiled wide, “Good morning, peaches,” they answered.

“How you doing?” you asked sitting next to Scott. 

“Good, you?” Scott wondered.

“Very good!” you replied. You looked Sebastian’s way and smiled at him. He smiled back.

You chatted a while until they call you to your positions. During breaks, you sat down with both of them, eating some snack or just laying down on each other. Around 7pm, the director called it a day. Everyone ran back to the vans, glad to be finished for the day. Once you arrived back in your room, you went straight for a bath., You listened to music, trying to relax and keep your thoughts calm. “Use Somebody” by Kings of Leon filled the air, and you sniffed hard trying to stop the tears from falling as it reminded you of Paul. Between the music and crying, you didn’t hear Scott and Sebastian come in. You finished in the bathroom, before curling up on the bed with each guy by your side, trying to comfort you. You cried and explained to them the situation you were.

“And what do you want?” Scott asked, sadness in his voice.

“I want him,” you cried, “I don’t want to lose him,”.

“Then, you are leaving…” he murmured more to himself than you.

You reached out for Seb’s hand and you interlaced your fingers with him. 

Seb pressed a gentle kiss on your hair. “Scott..” he murmured.

“Sorry.” Scott’s eyes filled with tears. 

Sebastian shivered under you and you grasped his hand harder. “Whatever you decide,” Sebastian said, “we will be by your side.”

You cried harder and you felt Scott stand up and walk away. He went into the bathroom and closed the door.

“It’s okay,” Sebastian murmured, “He’ll be okay,” he assured you while you continued to cry quietly on his lap. 

Scott walked out of the bathroom with red eyes, a red nose and rosy lips. He looked at Sebastian and a sob escaped his lips.  Scott finally composed himself, took his seat next to you again and squeezed your hand to show you support. They watched you until you fell asleep. They had dinner in your room, in case you woke up, but you didn’t. Just after midnight, both of them walked out of the room letting you rest.

The following week you missed set twice with permission from the director. You spent days choosing the right thing to do for you, for both of you. At night, you met the team for dinner and drinks afterwards.

The bar was quiet, low music, not so full of people but you knew in the next few hours it will be filled. The weekend arrived and everyone needed a break. Scott was at your right side, Sebastian on your left, followed by Anthony Mackie, Chris Evans, Will Malnati and Chace Crawford. They arrived the night before to spend the weekend with the cast and crew, Seb had introduced you and now you were part of the gang.

“So, where you have been all this time?” Mackie asked looking your way.

“Hiding,” you replied smiling back. The group laughed, Beers were coming and going, then it was tequila shots, then beers again and the night went on. You were having a really good time when your phone chimed on your pocket.

“I miss you, our bed misses you too, see you soon,” Paul texted with a picture of himself in bed. Just a pair of shorts, a beer on hand and a wide smile on his face. You gulped and guilt crossed your features. Every man on the table sipped their drinks without knowing what to do while you sat in a daze, not knowing how to respond to Paul. You felt Sebastian move at your side and you squirmed in your spot. 

“You okay?” Sebastian murmured. You nodded locking your phone, you faced him and smiled.

He frowned and squeezed you into his arms. You sighed.

“We can go back,” he mentioned. You shook your head and faced him.

“I’m having fun,” you said, “What about you?”

“I’m okay,” he replied and you smiled, turned to face the team and they smiled back. The rest of the night went quickly between jokes and games. 

The next morning, you woke up to the sound of your phone. Incoming call.

“Yeah?” you answered with a low growl.

“Are you fucking serious?” Paul growled on the other side.

“What’s going on?” you asked worriedly.

“I’m a dumbass!! That’s what happened!” Paul yelled. 

Your head throbbed and you groaned. “Paul, I don’t understand,” you replied sitting on your bed, “Hold on.”

“No!” he shouted angrily, “You hold on, I trusted you!” 

“What are you talking about?” you questioned.

“You know what? Fuck you!” he spat. You heard the beep of the dead line and groaned.

You went to get a shower and tried to ignore his call. You couldn’t understand what you had done wrong now and you weren’t feeling it. You had the day off and so did everyone else. You had made plans with the guys to hang out and you wanted to enjoy it. At least that’s what you thought before checking your phone. You had over a hundred calls and texts, your social media accounts were filled notifications. You checked your phone on your way down on the elevator and everything made sense. Sebastian had posted a picture, all of you smiling wide, beers and food on the table. He had tagged you and everyone else. And then you saw his stories. Your mouth fell open, your eyes widened and you felt a shiver ran over your spine. You sucked in a breath as tears streamed down your face. Sebastian had posted a picture of you, clinging onto him, your face hidden into his neck. He was hugging you tight and his hands were resting on your lower back. His eyes were closed, his rosy lips open slightly, and his hair a mess. It was a blurry pic of you two but you could clearly recognize yourself in his arms. The elevator doors opened slowly Scott, Chris and Mackie stood there, standing in front of you. Your eyes met and then you felt Scott hugging you tight while you cried on his arms. You walked back to your room, Chris and Anthony sat at the sofas while Scott hugged you. 

“I can’t remember what happened,” you cried.

“Nothing happened,” Scott answered.

You looked at him, your face red, runny nose and your lips trembling to try to hold back tears.

“Scott’s right,” Anthony said, “We were messing around but nothing happened between you two,”

“Paul,” you sobbed, “he called me.”

“Sssh, it’s okay,” Scott calmed you down, “he will understand.”

“He thinks I cheated on him with Sebastian!” you wailed.

“And you didn’t,” Chris declared, “Do not cry, we will explain to him,”.

You didn’t try to see Sebastian that day nor did he. The four of you went out for lunch and then dinner. You tried calling Paul but he wouldn’t pick up. You texted him and his brother but neither one responded. You chose instead to have fun with the guys you were with. While you had dinner, a fan approached you to show you the video from the night before. It put your picture with Seb in a new light and you realized Scott and the other guys had been telling the truth. Nothing had happened. You felt some relief, but still a twinge of guilt knowing Paul didn’t know what you did.

The rest of the night flew by; Anthony and Chris said goodnight around 1am and Scott crashed in your hotel room. The next day Chris and Anthony grabbed brunch with you and Scott before saying goodbye.

A week later, you were hanging out with Sebastian and Scott. You tried to talk with Sebastian before now but he hadn’t been on set. You also noticed Sebastian was treating you differently. He avoided being alone with you and he messed up his lines once in a while. You both had flubbed your lines, which led to a fight on set. You both were sent back at the hotel to solve your issues.

You didn’t understand why he was behaving like that. You ended up going to Seb’s room and talked to him, reassuring him you weren’t leaving, that working on this movie was a dream of yours and you wouldn’t leave for Paul. You loved Paul but he had to understand all the hard work you had put in to  achieve this moment and you wouldn’t miss out on the opportunity. You decided to call Paul and tell him as much.

“I DO support you,” he insisted. “I promise I’ll behave when I come out again, really!” 

“Thank you Paul! I miss you and I can’t wait to see you again. We can work on this, on us. We’ll get through this if we work at it.”

(submit time break here or a pretty divider?)

“Here’s my princess,” a voice spoke behind you while you were preparing lines with Scott and Sebastian. You turned around. Paul was standing there smiling, a bouquet of flowers in his hands and his phone on the other hand. You squealed and jumped on his arms while he laughed. “Careful, careful,” he laughed, “you’re going to make me drop my phone,”.

“You are here!” your high pitched voice made Scott laugh.

“The world’s favourite couple,” he said, hugging you and the phone facing you two. That’s when you noticed he was streaming live.

“Paul, no!” you covered the phone.

“What?” he questioned.

“Turn it off, turn it off!” you spat. 

“Why?” he asked, “It’s not like I’m telling lies,” he chuckled.

“Dude, turn it off,” Sebastian said.

“And who are you?” Paul questioned incredulously.

“Paul!” You yelled pushing him back.

“What?” he spat, “Are you going to defend your toy?”

“That’s enough!” You shouted angrily. You grabbed his phone and ended the live stream on Instagram. “What the hell was that?!” you claimed.

“I had enough!” Paul hissed, “You two think I’m an idiot?” Anger coloured his features.

“Paul, stop,” You murmured, “Why..” you tried to reach for his arm, “Why don’t we go to my trailer and talk calmly?” 

“No! You!” he pointed out at Sebastian, “Stay away from my girlfriend!” 

Sebastian and Scott looked at him incredulously. You groaned and you felt your body shivering at his command. You didn’t want Paul to make one of his scenes on set. At least, not close to Scott and Sebastian. 

“Let’s go!” you exclaimed tired of his behaviour. You apologised to everyone and walked back to your dressing room, Paul following close behind. You heard him mutter something but you couldn’t catch all of it. You closed the door behind both of you, Paul spun around looking around the room and his eyes fell at the bouquet of sunflowers and red roses Sebastian had given you the day before. He slammed his hands in a fist, his breathing accelerated. 

“Paul,” You whispered.

“You slept with him!” He yelled walking furiously at you. You walked backwards, trying to get away from him. He grabbed you by your elbows, pressing hard and you cried. 

“You’re hurting me,” you babbled, “Stop!”

“Stop?” he laughed, “Is that what you told him when you were fucking?!” he shouted.

Your eyes filled with tears, you felt small and insecure under his touch. You shivered remembering the first time he had treated you that way. You tried to stay calm to calm him down. You tried to touch his face and he pushed your hands away. “Paul,” you mumbled.

“How do you think I feel?” he spat, “How the fuck you think I feel knowing the whole world knows my girlfriend has been fucking her co-worker?!” His hands moved to the sides of your face. He closed the gap between you two, kissing you fiercely. You cried on his lips; fear took a hold of you. He bit your lip and you felt it bleed.

“You’re mine,” he declared, “You are nothing without me,”

You sobbed and tried to push back. He pushed you to the wall behind you, his hands reaching your shoulders, pressing hard. “Paul, please,” you cried.

“I loved you,” he said, “I can’t believe I had to see the girl of my dreams cheating on me,” his voice cracked. “You have no idea the pain you have given me, the bullshit you have put me through since we met,” he spat.

“I love you!” you cried out, “I’ve never cheated on you, Paul,”

“I’m gonna make sure you regret that night,” he threatened you. 

You gasped for air and tried to run away from him. He grabbed you by your hair, pushing you hard against the wall. You felt the cold wall hit your back and you cried aloud. He grabbed you by your neck and kissed you furiously. You cried on his lips. You heard him laugh, his hands travelled down your trousers, and you jumped. 

“Paul!” You yelled, “Stop!” you sobbed.

He drove his lips to your neck, you shivered scared, you cried knowing what was coming. 

“Please, Paul,” your voice so low, you doubted he could hear you, “I’m begging you,”

Paul pulled away looking at you, a smirk appeared on his lips, one of his hands flew to your mouth while the other hand travelled to put your hands above your head.

You quivered under his touch, your tears clouding your eyesight. He unzipped your trousers and his trousers, his hand flew to your core and you squealed aloud. You bit his hand and he pushed away.

“Bitch!” he screamed.

“HELP!” You yelled. His hand grabbed you by your neck and he pressed trying to choke you.

“Mine or nobody else’s,” he hissed.

Your tears were falling down your cheeks, you were trying to breathe, your hands hitting him on his chest and face trying to push him away. You were scared. You heard a heavy bang and then the door flashed open, Scott, Sebastian and a few crew members gasped in shock. Sebastian pushed Paul away from you against the wall. Scott reached your side and you cried on his arms. Paul punched Sebastian and Sebastian punched him back. The crew members quickly run to separate them. Scott took off his jacket and put it on you. You sobbed trembling on his arms. One of them had gone back to set and ask for help. The security walked inside grabbing Paul by his arms; he tried to fight back. Sebastian rushed to your side to check on you.

“Are you okay?” he asked worriedly.

“Stay away from her!” Paul screamed still fighting back against security.

“Take him out,” the director yelled, “Take that bastard away from here!”

They pushed him out of the room. Sebastian, Scott, a few casts and crew members now looking at you, lost for words.

“We will go back to the hotel,” Sebastian told them.

“Take the week off,” the director answered, “Make sure he stays away from her,”

Sebastian and Scott nodded in agreement. You walked with them, lost in your own thoughts. Your shoulders trembling Scott tried to calm you down.

You arrived at the hotel quickly in absolute silence. They accompanied you to your room. You thanked them and walked inside the bathroom. You took a long bath, crying in silence knowing they were outside, waiting for you.

The movie premiere arrived; you wanted to skip the red carpet and avoid interviews. The press had been trying to reach you to get news, to get under your skin, to gossip about your past. Five months after the events, and two weeks before the premiere, a video leaked of the security set dragging Paul out of the building. Your complaint at the police station demanding a restraining order against Paul for your own security surfed on social media and the whole world wanted to know what had happened between the “golden couple”.

The last six months had been hell to you. After wrapping up the movie, you flew back home. Your house was a mess; someone had entered your house and robbed you. You knew who it was and that’s when you rushed along with Sebastian, Scott and Chris Evans to the nearest police station.  

Now, you felt the anxiety taking over you as you stood trembling in your designer dress. You felt like you were drowning in your own skin. You closed your eyes trying to take a breath.

“Hey,” you heard Sebastian’s whisper. He took your hands in his and interlaced your fingers with his.“I’m here,” he mumbled softly.

“I’m scared,” your voice cracked.

“Don’t be,” he said. You felt him move closer to you. You felt the tears roll down your cheeks. He slowly leaned in and kissed them away. “Don’t be scared, that’s not gonna happen again,” his voice low and soft. 

You nodded trying to calm yourself down. He hugged you and you let his body warm you. You felt your skin wanting to feel his soft skin. You tightened your arms, squeezing him.

“I’m on your side,” he whispered, “I’ll hold you tight,” he kissed your hair.

You nodded on his chest.

“Doll, please,” he begged, “tell me,” his voice made you shiver, “tell me where to start, I’ll take your pain and put it on my heart.” He separated to look at you, his eyes filled with tears, “there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

Your tears streamed down your face, he kissed them away again.

“I won’t hesitate for you,” he declared with a cracking voice. You sobbed and shook your head.

“You,” you babbled, “I don’t deserve you”

“I promise we will figure this out,” he babbled, “Just tell me where to start,”

You let a chuckle escape your lips and he smiled at you. His right hand travelled to your hair, his left hand stroking gently your cheek.

“Promise me,” you whispered insecure. Sebastian interrupted you with a chaste kiss on your lips.

“I’ll hold and keep you safe forever” Sebastian assured you resting his forehead on yours.

____

This is my FIRST EVER request and I was so happy and excited to do it. So, anyone if you like a request, HIT ME UP.

Love, J.

[bangtaninink]

Sanctuary by Joji + jungkook + fuckbuddy au (hi i love u ❤️)

Sanctuary

    here’s the song!

“So then she says to the guy, ‘listen you piece of sh–’” The ringing of your phone cuts you off mid-sentence. “Hold on.”

You reach into your bag, rummaging around to find your phone amongst all your belongings, rolling your eyes and grinning when you notice who the caller is, turning your phone around to show Hyemi before answering.

“911, what’s your emergency?” you answer, Hyemi snorting quietly.

“Hi, yeah, I’d like to report a murder,” Jeongguk says, smile clear in his voice.

“Ah. And who has been murdered?”

“Not who – what. My dick’s been murdered, ma’am. See, this chick’s been ignoring me for, like, three weeks or somethin’. Granted, I know she had her period somewhere in the middle of it, but a majority of the time, she kept sayin’, ‘Guk, I gotta work,’ or, ‘Jeongguk, I’m a little busy right now, but I’ll call you later’. Like, damn. I get it: she’s got a life. But like… ‘m horny. And I just got back from Busan, spent way too much time fishing with my uncle, I think I smell like fish–”

“You know, that doesn’t sound very appealing,” you interrupt.

“Okay, that’s fair. But, like… can you just… you… come over. Please.”

“Alright, alright.” You laugh quietly, following behind Hyemi as she walks over to the front counter to pay. “Calm down, desperado. Give me, like, half an hour to take this new dress home and shave, and I’ll be right over.”

“Ooh. New dress, huh?” Jeongguk says. “Wait. No. Off topic. Look. Just come over, okay? You don’t have to shave… you don’t have to change… just… I miss you. So come over already.”

“Aww,” you coo, laughing as you put the new dress down onto the counter, reaching into your bag for your wallet with your free hand. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you sound like you’re in love with me, Jeon Jeongguk.”

Hyemi pretends to gag as you hear Jeongguk snort in your ear.

“You know what I’m in love with? Your tits, your ass, but most importantly, your pu–”

“Will that be cash or card?”

                                                         〰️

The door opens before you’ve even managed to knock.

“Finally,” Jeongguk moans, pulling you into the apartment as you perch your sunglasses on top of your head, heels clicking against the hardwood floor.

“I’m good, Guk. Thanks for asking,” you say, laughing as you shake your head.

Yoongi steps out of another room, half asleep, hair disarrayed, stopping in his tracks when he notices you.

“Wh–? Oh. Long time, no see, princess,” he says, chuckling.

“Hey, Yoongs. How’ve you been? How’s work?”

“Eh. It’s happening. Made it to ten thousand streams on Soundcloud the other day.”

“On your Agust D mixtape? Hey, I listened to that! I really like it. It was really cool.”

“Ah. Thanks,” he replies, rubbing the back of his neck. “How’ve you been? Thriving, I bet, if the news is anythin’ to go by.”

“I’ve been alright. Busy, as usual. We’re slowly getting closer to Christmas, so we’ve been workin’ on making sure there aren’t any hiccups during produc–”

“Hey, hey, hey. Less talk, more fuck, please,” Jeongguk interrupts, tugging on your wrist.

You share a look with Yoongi, the both of you rolling your eyes.

“No Hoseok?” you ask, walking towards Jeongguk’s room.

“I think he’ll be home in an hour or somethin’,” Yoongi replies, giving you a tired wave as he disappears into the kitchen.

Jeongguk nudges the door of his bedroom shut with the heel of his foot once you’re inside. You put your purse and shopping bags down, taking your sunglasses off your head to put them down on his bedside table. You haven’t even gotten settled by the time Jeongguk has come up behind you, sweeping your hair off your shoulder and pressing his lips to your neck, reaching up to pull off your cardigan.

“You’re pretty impatient today, Jeon,” you chuckle, leaning back against Jeongguk’s chest.

“Like I said,” he mutters against your skin. “It’s been three weeks, _____. I saw you on Yonhap and jerked off to a five second clip of you just before the commercial break.”

“Jesus.”

He turns you around to face him, pulling you close before leaning in the kiss you, untucking your sweater shirt from your jeans.

“You sound like you haven’t fucked anyone since the last time I was here,” you say, smiling against his lips, amused. To your surprise, Jeongguk leans back, looking at you with furrowed eyebrows.

“I haven’t,” he replies, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“What? Why not?”

“Wh– why would I? Wait, have you? Is that why you haven’t been here in three w–”

“Jeongguk. We have a new release in, like, a month and a half. You think I have the time to find another dick?” you scoff.

“Aww. How cute.”

You roll your eyes and shake your head, shoving Jeongguk’s chest to push him down onto his bed.

                                                        〰️

Next to you, Jeongguk sits back against the headboard, joint held between his lips as he cups his hand around the flame from his lighter and ignites the end.

“I have a favour to ask of you,” he says, exhaling a cloud of smoke, the smell of weed tickling your nose.

“Yeah, Guk. I’ll put my finger in your ass again, just not tonight,” you say, not looking away from your phone.

“No, not that. Well… maybe later.” You snort. “No, uh… I was wondering if you could help me with something. Taehyung’s sister’s friend or his lab partner or… whatever the fuck she is. I’m not really sure who she is at this point. She can’t take a hint, and we’re all going out to dinner tonight, and Tae said that she’s gonna be there or some shit, so…”

“You want me to come, pretend I’m heart eyes for the Jeon! and get her to hop off your dick for all eternity,” you finish.

Jeongguk grins, offering the joint to you.

                                                        〰️

Jeongguk plays with the fork resting on the napkin in front of him while the rest of the group talk amongst themselves, careful to avoid meeting Hana’s eye across the table. After today’s little afternoon delight, you’d stayed for a chat with Yoongi and Hoseok, but ultimately announced you’d have to go home before you could join them at dinner. You assured Jeongguk you’d be going – repeated yourself multiple times before you’d even made it out the door – but warned them that you might be a little late.

“And then, this guy,” Jimin says, laughing as he motions towards Jeongguk. “He says, “yeah, but why can’t I have both?”

“That’s fucked up,” Namjoon laughs, taking a sip of his beer.

“I think it’s cute,” Hana says, nodding her head frantically, turning in Jeongguk’s direction, hoping he’ll turn her way.

“You… think it’s cute that Jeongguk saw some twins and immediately entertained the idea of fucking them at the same time with a cigarette in each hand?” Hoseok asks, eyebrows furrowed.

“Y-yeah. Of course. Jeongguk oppa’s cute whatever he says or does.”

“Yikes,” Yoongi mutters, eyes wide as he turns away.

From behind him, Jeongguk suddenly hears a rise in conversation and hushed words erupting in the rest of the restaurant, and he straightens up in his seat, realising it’s because…

“Hey, guys. Sorry I’m late.”

Now Jeongguk takes a look at Hana, revels in the way her eyes widen with surprise, watching you walk up to the table, unbothered by the sea of phones pointed her way. Jeongguk meets Hoseok’s gaze, who barely manages to conceal his amused grin behind his own glass of beer.

“I hope you guys haven’t been waiting for too long,” you say, slipping off your coat and draping it over the back of your chair. You smile at everyone around the table, before leaning over Jeongguk’s shoulder, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Hey, babe.”

“Hey. How was work?” Jeongguk asks, pulling your chair out for you.

“Mmm, hectic – as usual. Dad’s been driving me crazy trying to get everything sorted in time for the launch. Ugh, I am ready for a good, long holiday after this. Or a massage.”

“You’re… y-you’re…” You turn to look at the new face at the table, head tilted slightly with curiosity. “You’re _____.”

“Yeah, that’s me,” you say, reaching for Jeongguk’s beer. “And, you are?”

“I, um… I’m Hana,” she says. “Wow, you’re… you own Samsung.”

“Well, my family does. How do you know the guys?”

“Oh, I’m… I-I’m Taehyung’s co-worker. Yeah. Yeah, we work together.”

“Oh, that’s cool! Lucky you. I love cats, but… I’m allergic.”

“Dogs are just as cute, don’t worry,” Taehyung laughs. “Alrighty, guys. Are we ready to order because I am starving.”

                                                        〰️

“_____! _____! Can we get a photo?”

“Sorry, guys. I really have to go,” you say, shooting the crowd an apologetic smile as you step out of the restaurant, Jeongguk’s hand on your lower back.

“Must be nice,” he says, chuckling.

“Could say the same to you,” you reply, grinning. “You have the youngest daughter of the family that owns Samsung as your own personal fuckbuddy, and now, the entire country’s gonna know it. On top of that, you’ve successfully managed to get Hana to hop off your dick for all eternity. Thoughts?”

“Hmm.” Jeongguk juts out his chin, eyes narrowed. “You wanna promo my Soundcloud on your Insta?”

[skgway]

1824 Aug., Sat. 28

6 3/4

3 20/60

From 8 10/60 to 9 10/60 took a stroll along Coventry Street, Halfhide and Co., No. 7. Will cut me a seal with a motto e.g. a violet under a hedge with the motto il faut me chercher, for a guinea. Cutting my arms would be 3 guineas – 

Then strolled along the Haymarket Jermyn Street., Regent Street to the end of Pall-Mall, thro’ St. James Square home – Sauntering leisurely turning up and down to look about me – Breakfast at 9 1/2 – went out at 10 10/60 – 

Mr. Webb went with me to shew me the Jews’ synagogue (Danemark Court, Exeter Street Strand) – Went thro’ Leicester Square – 1/4 hour at the synagogue – Much disappointed – A dirty shabby place, yet they say, quite as good as that in Duke’s place near Houndsditch – But it seems, their grand place, where the tabernacle is, is in the minories – the Jew do not like to admit strangers – Cordingley met us just come out of the chapel (I had sent her at 9 to Mr. Truefitt to take a lesson in hair dressing) – 

Went to the sitting magistrate Hatton garden – Only 2 magistrates there this morning (got there at about 11), the one Mr. Flower, the other (the most gentlemanly) who behaved to me so like a gentleman yesterday – 5 40/60 p.m. Interrupted here by dinner – 

Mr. Webb soon brought up a roast leg of mutton and a newspaper asking me if I would like to look at it – I casually answered yes! He said there was business at Hatton Garden in it – He had never thought of its getting into the papers, and now it would be in them all – ‘Ah!’ said I, ‘the thought and fear of it just struck me last night – I am very sorry for it’ – It was the Times newspaper of today – 

The whole thing very fairly put in – At the moment I felt mortified and annoyed at the idea of what a quiz it would be against me – Mr. Webbe saw this, which was probably more than he expected – I soon, however, grew reconciled as I always do, and told Mr. Webb when he came in again I could not help laughing at the thing, and did not know before that I was like a foreigner – “a lady whose habiliments and address bespoke her of foreign extraction” – 

Told Mr. Webbe, if my uncle saw, it would a laugh against me forever – The truth was, I thought first of the Saltmarshes and that it would be in everybody's mouth at Halifax – 

But to return to my this morning’s visit in Hatton garden – I walked in to the magistrates room – It seems, by the newspaper, Mr. Rogers was the 3rd magistrate yesterday and Mr. Laing the gentlemanly man to whom I felt most obliged – 

I bowed and told him I had brought Mr. Webb – Mr. Laing appeared to smile, just said if I would give my name and address the permission should be granted – I asked if my name would not be sufficient. On his answering, ‘No!’ They were obliged to be particular whom they admitted – only to admit ladies and gents – Immediately wrote Miss Lister Shibden Hall Yorkshire, and Mr. Laing desired a clerk to write an order for me and my servant Elizabeth Wilkes Cordingley and Mr. Webb to see the tread-mill and the interior – I bowed, said I was much obliged the the gents, and retired – 

The order procured us instant admittance, the utmost civility, and a sight of the whole interior – I asked the matron (a very nice woman who shewed the womens’ apartments, if she often shewed them – She said yes! But it required a particular order from the magistrates – And that this order (by which we were admitted), must have been a very particular one – 

A most gratifying sight to see the prison so clean, and healthy, and orderly, and altogether in such excellent discipline – About 250 men and women and children – The men and women have 1 1/4 lb. bread a day, a pot (would hold a quart, I think at least) of gruel a day, and 6 oz. of meat every other day, and on the intermediate days, soup made of what the meat (beef, I understood) was boiled thickened with oatmeal and vegetables – 

The women far worse to manage then the men – The matron would have less trouble with 500 men than 10 women – The young women (in their teens) the worst – And the man told us, the boys were much worse than the men – He thought there was more vice among them then any set of people – 

8 20/60. I have just had Mr. Webb who came with the Courier newspaper (a little different from the Times, not less civil to me) and begged to say, he thought perhaps I had best write something in reply – Had best write a handsome letter to the editor of which paper I chose (I preferred the Courier) – I shall think of this a few minutes – 

Began to write some – Buckley came with my pelisse – It does not fit at all – A great deal too large – Then the person from Waller’s brought my stays – Luckily, these do very well – At last, at 10 1/2 sat down and finished (altered the whole style of what I had written before) the following:

 “To the editor of the Courier – 

Sir – I have this moment read in your paper of today, the account of my applying yesterday to the magistrates of Hatton Garden for permission to see the treadmill at Cold Bath-Fields prison – I am surprised and sorry to find myself so unexpectedly intruded on the valuable space of your paper, having been perfectly thoughtless that so unimportant a circumstance could have been deemed worthy of notice; but since the matter has been made public, I feel desired that my motive should be divested of the “scientific” nature to which it has been attributed, and reduced to the simple wish of examining for myself the merits or demerits of the tread-mill. 

I beg to express my thanks to the magistrates for their order of admission, which procured me not only access to the whole interior of the building, but the most obliging civility and attention from the matron and other attendants, on whom the apparent health and civil manners of the prisoners, and the perfect neatness and cleanliness of all the rooms, reflect the highest credit – 

I cannot help feeling persuaded from the case with which all the prisoners, male and female, seemed to perform the exercise of the tread-mill, as well as from the short trial I myself made of it, that the labor is not so excessive as it has been represented, nor by any means so great as that daily undergone by a large portion of the lower classes of society – 

If this determination never to condemn even in my own mind (for I presume not beyond this) any institution sanctioned by the proper authorities of my country, till I have taken all the pains in my power to procure the best possible information on the subject, – 

If such a determination, tho’ however in the present case too hastily or ignorantly pursued, can at all excuse the singularity and perhaps informality of my application to the magistrates, I shall be much obliged to you to insert this letter in your next paper, and am Sir, your honourable servant A. Lister”–

Sent for Mr. Webbe – read him the above – He thought nothing could be better and was for my sending it – But I had determined to let the matter rest, and merely wrote this, that he might not think I could not do it – 

Told him I should not like the notoriety of the thing – Should bring John Bull upon myself, etc. etc. and should be absent into the bargain, etc. and Mr. Webbe finished by agreeing I was right, tho’ I plainly saw he would have liked the notice into which I should probably bring myself – 

I told [him] I could bring myself into notice any time, but it would not suit me now. John Bull would sift out everything. And my uncle, tho of an old family and good fortune, did not live in that style, would bear me out at present as I should wish – 

But to return once more to the morning – After leaving the prison Mr. Webbe walked with us in search of South Crescent (Alfred Place Tottenham Court road) – It seemed a pretty long walk thro’ Brandenburgh, n! Mecklenburgh Squares, and thro’ an abundance of new streets –

Knocked at home 3 in the crescent – Asked for a wrong person, merely to find out that Mr. James Vallance lived there – A dirty woman servant came to the door – A simple house, like all the rest in the crescent – 4 stories high including the cellar kitchens – But I think the V– [Vallance]’s must be a vulgarish set – 

Returned by the Soho bazar – Mr. Webbe shewed us all over it – Got home at 2 – Thanked Mr. W– [Webb] for his civility – The poor man had spoken most handsomely of his wife, and seemed to like to talk of her – He seems impressed with a considerable of my talents, and importance, physical strength, walking, riding, etc. etc. 

Asked him about the expense of living in London – or of having lodgings or being at an hotel – He thought I could keep myself a maid and 2 men at an hotel very handsomely for 3 guineas a day, and a couple of horses would cost me a guinea a week each at livery – 

My cloth boots pinched me – Changed them and went out again directly – Took Cordingley to shew her the Burlington Arcade and Western Exchange bazar – Then sent her home – 

Sauntered slowly along myself to 166 Strand, and bought (at Dobson’s) a self-pointing pencil – Did npot much like the manners of the man, but found his pencil 3 /. [shillings] cheaper than in the Exeter change [Exeter Exchange], where I bought a small mariner’s compass in a brass case 4 /. [shillings] – 

Then sauntered all along Regent Street and Portland Place, and Park Crescent across the new road a little way into the Park – The entrance paris style portico and steeple of all souls church at the far end of Regent Street very beautiful – The circle not quite finished – Regent Street and the tout ensemble Portland Place, etc. magnificent – 

Met with a seal cutter No. 260 who would cut a fancy seal (a violet and il faut me chercher) for about 12 /. [shillings], ladies’ arms 1 1/2 guineas, gentlemans 2 guineas, without a motto, and 2 1/2 with one – Silvester No. 27 Strand would charge 18 /. [shillings] for the fancy seal, 2 guineas for a lady’s arms, and 2 1/2 for a gentlemans – Cheaper than Halfhide – 

Got home at 5 20/60 – Washing my hands, etc. Dinner at 5 40/60 – The occupations of the evening are given out of their place – Above – Very fine day – E [one dot, treating venereal complaint] O [no dots, marking discharge]. 

Settl[ed my accounts (sent Cordingley to bed at 11) and went to my room at 12 40/60. Then packed, which took me till 2 3/4 –

[More About Coldbath Fields Prison]

In the Mount Pleasant area of Clerkenwell, London the prison was originally run by magistrates and housed prisoners on short sentences of up to two years, and also served as a debtor's prison. It took its name from Cold Bath Spring, a medicinal spring discovered in 1697. The prison housed men, women and children until 1850, when the women and children moved to Tothill Fields Bridewell, leaving only male offenders over the age of 17. Despite its aspirations to be more humanitarian, it became notorious for its strict regime of silence and its use of the treadmill.

"Prisoners Working At The Tread-wheel, And Others Exercising, In The 3rd Yard Of The Vagrants' Prison, Coldbath Fields" from "The criminal prisons of London, and scenes of prison life (1864) by Henry Mayhew & John Binny.

Another image from “The criminal prisons of London, and scenes of prison life” (1864) by Henry Mayhew & John Binny. The main felons block is on the left, the vagrants block was the "half cartwheel" bottom left, the misdemeanants block centre right. More details are on the accompanying plan File:coldbath-fields-plan-mayhew-p283.jpg

Extract from London Courier and Evening Gazette, Saturday 28 August 1824, shared by Moira Macdonald with The Real Anne Lister blog.

[sciencespies]

Meet the Ecologist Who Wants You to Unleash the Wild on Your Backyard

https://sciencespies.com/nature/meet-the-ecologist-who-wants-you-to-unleash-the-wild-on-your-backyard/

Meet the Ecologist Who Wants You to Unleash the Wild on Your Backyard

The land is ten gently sloping acres in rural southeastern Pennsylvania, at one time mowed for hay, with a handsome farmhouse that Douglas Tallamy bought around 20 years ago. It isn’t much to look at, by the standards most Americans apply to landscaping—no expansive views across swaths of lawn set off by flowerbeds and specimen trees—but, as Tallamy says, “We’re tucked away here where no one can see us, so we can do pretty much what we want.” And what he wants is for this property to be a model for the rest of the country, by which he means suburbs, exurbs, uninhabited woods, highway margins, city parks, streets and backyards, even rooftops and window boxes, basically every square foot of land not paved or farmed. He wants to see it replanted with native North American flora, supporting a healthy array of native North American butterflies, moths and other arthropods, providing food for a robust population of songbirds, small mammals and reptiles. He even has a name for it: Homegrown National Park.

A creek on his land supports native plants adapted to “getting their feet wet,” Tallamy says, such as skunk cabbage.

(Matthew Cicanese)

On a June day in 2001, not long after he bought the property, Tallamy, an entomologist at the University of Delaware, was walking his land when he noticed something that struck him as unusual. Before he bought it, most of it had been kept in hay, but at that point it hadn’t been mowed in three years and “was overgrown with autumn olive and Oriental bittersweet in a tangle so thick you couldn’t walk. The first thing I had to do was cut trails,” Tallamy recalls. And walking through his woods on the newly cut trails, what he noticed was what was missing: caterpillars.

No caterpillars on the Oriental bittersweet, the multiflora rose, the Japanese honeysuckle, on the burning bush that lined his neighbor’s driveway. All around him plants were in a riot of photosynthesis, converting the energy of sunlight into sugars and proteins and fats that were going uneaten. A loss, and not just for him as a professional entomologist. Insects—“the little things that run the world,” as the naturalist E.O. Wilson called them—are at the heart of the food web, the main way nature converts plant protoplasm into animal life. If Tallamy were a chickadee—a bird whose nestlings may consume between 6,000 and 9,000 caterpillars before they fledge, all foraged within a 150-foot radius of the nest—he would have found it hard going in these woods.

Tallamy knew, in a general sense, why that was. The plants he was walking among were mostly introduced exotics, brought to America either accidentally in cargo or intentionally for landscaping or crops. Then they escaped into the wild, outcompeting their native counterparts, meeting the definition of an “invasive” species. By and large, plants can tolerate a wide range of environmental conditions. But insects tend to be specialists, feeding on and pollinating a narrow spectrum of plant life, sometimes just a single species. “Ninety percent of the insects that eat plants can develop and reproduce only on the plants with which they share an evolutionary history,” Tallamy says. In the competition to eat, and to avoid being eaten, plants have developed various chemical and morphological defenses—toxins, sticky sap, rough bark, waxy cuticles—and insects have evolved ways to get around them. But as a rule, insect strategies don’t work well against species they have never encountered. That’s true of even closely related species—imported Norway maples versus native sugar maples, for instance. Tallamy has found that within the same genus, introduced plant species provide on average 68 percent less food for insects than natives. Hence, a plant that in its native habitat might support dozens or hundreds of species of insects, birds and mammals may go virtually uneaten in a new ecosystem. Pennsylvania, for example.

Demonstrating that point might make for a good undergraduate research project, Tallamy thought. So he asked a student to do a survey of the literature in preparation for a study. The student reported back there wasn’t any. “I checked myself,” he says. “There was a lot written about invasive species. But nothing on insects and the food web.”

That, he says, was the “aha” moment in his career, at which he began to remake himself from a specialist in the mating habits of the cucumber beetle to a proselytizer for native plants as a way to preserve what remains of the natural ecology of North America. He was following in the footsteps of Wilson, his scientific hero, who went from being the world’s foremost expert on ants to an eminent spokesman for the ecology of the whole planet. “I didn’t exactly plan it this way,” Tallamy says with a shrug. “In the musical chairs of life, the music stopped and I sat down in the ‘invasive plants’ chair. It’s a satisfying way to close out my career.”

As a scientist, Tallamy realized his initial obligation was to prove his insight empirically. He began with the essential first step of any scientific undertaking, by applying for research grants, the first of which took until 2005 to materialize. Then followed five years of work by relays of students. “We had to plant the plants and then measure insect use over the next three years, at five different sites,” he recalls. “To sample a plot was an all-day affair with five people.” Out of that work eventually came papers in scientific journals such as Conservation Biology (“Ranking lepidopteran use of native versus introduced plants”), Biological Invasions (“Effects of non-native plants on the native insect community of Delaware”) and Environmental Entomology (“An evaluation of butterfly gardens for restoring habitat for the monarch butterfly”). And then popularizing books aimed at changing the face of America’s backyards: Bringing Nature Home: How You Can Sustain Wildlife With Native Plants and, this year, Nature’s Best Hope: A New Approach to Conservation That Starts in Your Yard. And in turn a busy schedule of talks before professional organizations, environmental groups, local conservation societies, landscape designers—anyone who would listen, basically.

Squirrels aren’t the only animals that like acorns. Weevils develop inside the oaknuts, and the larvae, in turn, nourish blue jays and woodpeckers

(Matthew Cicanese)

When insects disappear, humans may not take much notice, but the recent population declines of two species have received a great deal of attention: the monarch butterfly, because it’s an iconic, easily recognizable and beautiful creature; and the honeybee, because it’s needed to pollinate crops. But those episodes are symptomatic of a larger disruption in the ecosystem. Tallamy estimates that the worldwide population of arthropods, chiefly insects, has declined by 45 percent from preindustrial times. Without insects, it would be the case that lizards, frogs and toads, birds and mammals, from rodents up through bears, would lose all or a large part of their diets. “The little things that run the world are disappearing,” he says. “This is an ecological crisis that we’re just starting to talk about.”

Tallamy is 68, graying, soft-spoken and diffident. In his talks he cloaks the urgency of his message with an understated wit, as when he presses the unpopular cause of poison ivy, whose berries at certain times of the year are an important food for the downy woodpecker and other birds. “When do you get a rash from poison ivy?” he asks an audience. “When you try to pull it out! Ignore your poison ivy. You can run faster than it can.” To which many people would reply: “Nature had plenty of poison ivy and insects in it the last time I was there.”

But to Tallamy, that attitude is precisely the problem. It speaks to a definition of “nature” as co-extensive with “wilderness,” and excludes the everyday landscape inhabited by virtually all Americans. The ecosystem cannot be sustained just by national parks and forests. A statistic he frequently cites is that 86 percent of the land east of the Mississippi is privately owned. A large fraction of that acreage is either under cultivation for food or planted in a monoculture of lawn, a landscape that for ecological purposes might as well be a parking lot.

To Tallamy, spiders serve as a linchpin species to birds because they are the second most important food, outweighed in nutritive value only by caterpillars.

(Matthew Cicanese)

Tallamy incorporated his thinking into “Homegrown National Park,” an aspirational project to repurpose half of America’s lawnscape for ecologically productive use. That would comprise more than 20 million acres, the equivalent of nearly ten Yellowstones. The intention is to unite fragments of land scattered across the country into a network of habitat, which could be achieved, he wrote in Bringing Nature Home, “by untrained citizens with minimal expense and without any costly changes to infrastructure.” The plots wouldn’t have to be contiguous, although that would be preferable. Moths and birds can fly, and you’re helping them just by reducing the distance they have to travel for food.

“Every little bit helps,” Tallamy says. “Most people don’t own 50 acres, so it’s not going to be that hard. The minimal thing is, you plant a tree and it’s the right tree. Look at what’s happened at my house.”

The idea was picked up by the writer Richard Louv, who coined the term “nature-deficit disorder” in his jeremiad Last Child in the Woods, and by the Canadian naturalist and philanthropist David Suzuki, whose foundation is supporting an effort to implement the project on a limited scale in Toronto.

Even a small patch of Pennsylvania woodland, if allowed to grow wild, generates a vast ecosystem: Native crabapples persist into winter and feed foxes and wild turkeys.

(Matthew Cicanese)

Tallamy walks his land in all seasons, wrenching from the soil the occasional Japanese honeysuckle that made the mistake of venturing onto his property, checking up on his winterberries and sweet pepperbush, looking for leaves that have been chewed by insects and the stems of berries eaten by birds. Occasionally he will do a moth survey, hanging a white sheet in his woods at night behind a mercury vapor lamp. The diversity of insect life he encounters is eye-opening even to him; last year he added more than 100 species to his property list, including a few he had to look up to identify. (There are around 11,000 species of moths in the United States, and 160,000 worldwide.) Near his front door is a 35-foot-tall white oak that he planted from an acorn, ignoring the advice some landscapers give against planting oaks, because you won’t live long enough to enjoy them at their mature size, which may take 300 years. “Well, if you can only enjoy a 300-year-old oak, I guess that’s true,” he says dryly. He has collected 242 species of caterpillars from the tree in his yard—so far.

Tallamy is a great proponent of the ecological benefits of caterpillars, a single one of which has the nutritional value of as many as 200 aphids. “They’re soft, you can stuff them down the beak of your offspring without damaging their esophagus,” he says approvingly. “They contain carotenoids. Birds take the carotenoids and build pigments out of them. That’s how you make a prothonotary warbler.”

He acknowledges that not all homeowners enjoy the sight of caterpillars munching on the leaves of their trees. For them he recommends what he calls his Ten-Step Program: “Take ten steps back from the trunk and all your insect problems go away.”

Mushrooms enrich the teeming soil when they decompose.

(Matthew Cicanese)

Tallamy’s principles have a particular resonance with people—like me—who consider themselves environmentalists but landscaped on the principle “if it looks good, plant it.” He says he’s sometimes surprised at how well his message is received. “I thought there would be quite a bit of push back,” he muses. “But there hasn’t been. I’m suggesting we cut the lawn area in half. I assume they just aren’t taking me seriously. Early on I remember a nurseryman in the audience glowering at me, and I heard him muttering ‘You’re trying to put us out of business.’ I don’t want to put them out of business. I get a lot of invitations from the nursery industry, trade shows, landscape architects. All I’m saying is add one criterion to what you use when you choose your plants”—whether a plant is native. “You can’t argue against it.”

Actually, you can. Tallamy has a long-standing scientific disagreement with an entomologist at the University of California at Davis, Arthur Shapiro. Shapiro grew up in Philadelphia, where, he says, the Norway maple on his block in the 1960s was host to at least three species of moth caterpillar: the American dagger moth, the Crecopia silk moth,and the Lunate Zale moth. “Tallamy invokes the diversity of caterpillars as an indicator of the superiority of native plants over nonnative plants,” Shapiro says. “It’s unsurprising that most of them feed on native plants. What goes right by Tallamy is the extent to which native insects switch and adapt to nonnative plants.

“Here in California we are probably more heavily impacted by naturalized plants than any other state except Hawaii. Our low-elevation butterflies are heavily dependent on nonnative plants. Their native host plants have been largely eradicated, but to their good fortune, humans introduced nonnative plants that are not only acceptable but in some instances superior to native hosts. Most California natives in cultivation are of no more butterfly interest than nonnatives, and most of the best butterfly flowers in our area are exotic.”

The much-reviled (but also beloved by some) eucalyptus trees that have colonized the Central California coast now harbor overwintering monarch butterflies, Shapiro says, although for the most part the insect populations they support are different from those found in native habitats. But his attitude is, so what? The marine blue, a butterfly native to the desert Southwest, where it feeds on acacia and mesquite, has expanded its range into the suburbs of Southern California, feeding on leadwort, a perennial flowering shrub native to South Africa. It is botanically unrelated to acacia and mesquite, but by some accident of biochemistry is a suitable host for the marine blue caterpillar, which has adapted to its new host. “That sort of process is happening all the time all around us,” Shapiro says.

Tallamy begs to differ. The examples Shapiro cites, in his view, represent either anecdotal findings of limited scientific value (like the caterpillars on the street tree from Shapiro’s childhood), or anomalous exceptions to the rule that introduced species support a fraction of the insect life of the plants they replace. A ginkgo tree might look like a functional part of an ecosystem, but the Chinese native might as well be a statue for all the good it does. The well-publicized instances of alien species that found American vegetation to their taste—Asian long-horned beetles, European corn borers, gypsy moths—have created the misleading impression that to an insect, one tree is as good as another. But those are exceptional cases, Tallamy maintains, and the great majority of insects accidentally introduced to North America are never heard from again. “Remember, the horticulture trade screens plants before they introduce them into the market. Any plant that is vulnerable to serious attack by native insects is screened out.”

On one level, this dispute reflects that Tallamy and Shapiro have studied very different ecosystems. As Tallamy wrote in Bringing Nature Home, he was “forced to slight western North America and focus on the Lepidoptera that occur on woody plants in eight states of the eastern deciduous forest biome.” The scientists’ disagreement is also partly over time scales. Tallamy acknowledges that natural selection will allow some native insects to evolve the ability to eat whatever is growing in front of them, or be replaced by species that can, and that birds will figure out a way to make a living off the newcomers. But he thinks this is likely to take thousands of generations to have an impact on the food web. Shapiro maintains he has seen it occur within his own lifetime.

It’s fair to say Tallamy sometimes pursues his passion for native flora to the point of single-mindedness. He is the rare environmentalist who doesn’t bring up climate change at the first opportunity, not because he doesn’t care about it, but because he wants to stick to his chosen issue. “Climate change is not what’s driving this problem,” he says. “If there were no climate change anywhere, it would be just as important. It’s driven by poor plant choice and habitat destruction. I don’t like to mix the two. Right now the culture is, ‘Every problem we have is related to climate,’ and that’s not the case.”

He also can be nonchalant about some of the adjustments and sacrifices entailed by his plan for saving the planet. He suffered from allergies to ragweed pollen for decades, he writes in Nature’s Best Hope, but is willing to forgive the plant on the basis that “the ragweed genus Ambrosia is the eighth most productive herbaceous genus in the East, supporting caterpillar development for 54 species of moths.” He doesn’t sugarcoat the fact that the phylum of arthropods includes, besides butterflies and honeybees, about 900 species of Ixodida, which includes ticks. “I think I’ve had Lyme around a half-dozen times,” he says, as he plunges casually into a chest-high thicket in early autumn, “but I’m one of the people who get the rash”—the telltale bull’s-eye marker of an infected bite by the deer tick, which not all patients evince—“so I was able to catch it and treat it each time.”

Anyone following Tallamy’s landscaping dictums might want to, at least, tuck their pants into their socks when they walk around their yard. That is a small sacrifice given the enormousness of the problem he wants to solve. But even people willing to give over half their lawn for the benefit of caterpillars might be daunted by the task of replacing it according to Tallamy’s prescription. Saving the ecosystem isn’t as simple as just letting nature take over your backyard. In nature the race is to the swift, even for plants. “There’s a time in the spring when plants from Asia leap out before plants from North America,” he tells an audience, projecting a picture taken in a local park in late March. “All of the green you see is plants from Asia, the usual suspects: multi-flora rose, Oriental bittersweet, Japanese honeysuckle, privet, barberry, burning bush, ailanthus, Norway maple, all escapees from our garden. You go into almost any natural area around here, a third of the vegetation is from Asia.” Invasive species are called that for a reason, and repelling them is hard, and never-ending, work.

Moreover, not all native plants are created equal, at least from the point of view of an insect. Across a wide range of North American biomes, about 14 percent of plants make 90 percent of the insect food, he says. These are the keystone species that keep the food web healthy, and the most important are four genera of native trees: oaks, poplars, willows and cherries. But also hickory, chestnut, elms and birches, and joe-pye weed, aster, marsh marigold, skunk cabbage, snakeweed. Some seem worth planting just for the poetry of their names: Chickasaw plum, chokecherry, wax myrtle, devil’s beggar’s-tick, false indigo, hairy bush clover, cypress panicgrass.

But insects aren’t the only creatures that evolved to consume the native vegetation of North America. Tallamy’s ten-step rule for making insect damage disappear to the naked eye doesn’t apply to deer. As he trudges alongside a shallow ravine on his property he points to a small clump of trees on the other side that have been denuded from the ground up to nearly shoulder height. “There’s the browse line on Eastern red cedar,” he says sourly. One reason landscapers favor certain exotic species is that deer don’t eat them. Tallamy’s solution for controlling deer is another one of his idealistic, if not altogether practical, recommendations: “Bring back predators!” he says cheerfully.

Tallamy stops on his walk to adjust a wire barrier around a native azalea. “If I wasn’t around to keep up this fence,” he muses, “the deer would eat it all. So you say, why bother?

“That’s a good question.

“But I do.”

“Natural” doesn’t always mean untouched. Tallamy uproots invasive plants, like this fast-growing porcelain-berry, a vine originally from East Asia, introduced in the 1870s.

(Matthew Cicanese)

I visited Tallamy not long before he set out for ten days in the mountains of Peru, where he was consulting with organizations that promote the practice of growing coffee plants beneath the tree canopy (“shade-grown coffee”) to conserve bird habitat. He wanted to investigate which trees provide the best ecological diversity. Before I leave, he quotes Wilson one more time, from his famous talk on “The Importance and Conservation of Invertebrates.” The passage goes like this:

“The truth is that we need invertebrates but they don’t need us. If human beings were to disappear tomorrow, the world would go on with little change….But if invertebrates were to disappear, I doubt that the human species could last more than a few months. Most of the fishes, amphibians, birds and mammals would crash to extinction about the same time. Next would go the bulk of the flowering plants and with them the physical structure of the majority of forests and other terrestrial habitats of the world.

“The earth would rot.”

Wilson gave that talk in 1987. “It was,” Tallamy says dryly, “a theoretical worry back then.”

So it is less of a theoretical worry now, and more of a real one. But Tallamy is doing what he can to head it off, and he wants the whole country to pitch in. Homegrown National Park is meant to bring about not just a horticultural revolution, but a cultural one, bridging the human-dominated landscape and the natural world. “If you do this at your house or in your local park, you don’t have to go to Yellowstone to interact with nature,” Tallamy says. “You won’t have bison, you won’t have Mystic Falls, but you can have nature outside your door. Isn’t that what you want for your kids—and for yourself?”

To Tallamy, the nation’s backyards are more than ripe for a makeover. Here are some of his suggestions to help rejuvenators hit the ground running.

1. Shrink your lawn. Tallamy recommends halving the area devoted to lawns in the continental United States—reducing water, pesticide and fertilizer use. Replace grass with plants that sustain more animal life, he says: “Every little bit of habitat helps.”

2. Remove invasive plants. Introduced plants sustain less animal diversity than natives do. Worse, some exotics crowd out indigenous flora. Notable offenders: Japanese honeysuckle, Oriental bittersweet, multiflora rose and kudzu.

3. Create no-mow zones. Native caterpillars drop from a tree’s canopy to the ground to complete their life cycle. Put mulch or a native ground cover such as Virginia creeper (not English ivy) around the base of a tree to accommodate the insects. Birds will benefit, as well as moths and butterflies.

4. Equip outdoor lights with motion sensors. White lights blazing all night can disturb animal behavior. LED devices use less energy, and yellow light attracts fewer flying insects.

5. Plant keystone species. Among native plants, some contribute more to the food web than others. Native oak, cherry, cottonwood, willow and birch are several of the best tree choices.

6. Welcome pollinators. Goldenrod, native willows, asters, sunflowers, evening primrose and violets are among the plants that support beleaguered native bees.

7. Fight mosquitoes with bacteria. Inexpensive packets containing Bacillus thuringiensis can be placed in drains and other wet sites where mosquitoes hatch. Unlike pesticide sprays, the bacteria inhibit mosquitoes but not other insects.

8. Avoid harsh chemicals. Dig up or torch weeds on hardscaping, or douse with vinegar. Discourage crabgrass by mowing lawn 3 inches high.

#Nature

[avenger09]

Horrors of the Empire

Star Wars + Dragon Prince Crossover

The Empire spreads across their world and one of their strongest is subjected to the depths of it’s Evil. 

This had been a strange time for Amaya. A short while ago she had been the prisoner of the decorative and arrogant Sunfire Elves, an enemy she knew. Now she was sitting in a another cell, the prisoner of another, an Empire of some kind. The accommodations so small part of her beginning to miss the ring of fire her last hosts had provided. If only a little. 

As far as she could tell from the few exposed lips available to read, she did not know them but was quickly warming up to the idea of hating them, no less then the Elves, and not just for the damned helmets their white armored troops seemed insistent on wearing. 

The only exception for that would be the skittish, bespectacled, translator who her previous captors had assigned her, and who was right now in her cell and like her no longer in their brightly colored cloths but a drab jumpsuit obviously meant to identify them as Prisoners. Indeed if they had been the only other being in the cell Amaya could consider thinking she was at least in good company. Unfortunately the Elf’s presence had been requested by another, an Officer given his uniform, who was somehow half metal. Hence the need for the translator, as his mouth was one of the things covered by it. The half-man seemed to be saying something but not anything addressed to her, at least not yet.

Admiral Gable Karius. That was his name, as he liked to remind people, in case his Cybernetic right arm and mouthpiece didn’t make a memorable enough impression. These had once been his only mechanical parts, until a few years ago. When an... incident on Mustafar claimed his left leg as well. Afterwords he was essentially exiled to patrol the outer rim of the galaxy as punishment for the debacle that had occurred there on his watch. A merciful fate compared to the usual result that befell those who’d failed the lord who dwelt there, and who in fact requested his aide in securing the strange new world they now orbited, as well as instructed to interrogate the prisoner before him. For whom he'd devised a particularly cunning strategy of breaking to the Empire’s will, as least as he was concerned, anyone with a normal moral compass would call it horrific. 

“Interpreter.” The cyborg barked. “Will you truly be able to translate for this interrogation?”

Nervously, they replied. Trying not to upset the ‘new management’ as they’ed chosen to call them, as a coping mechanism against the wider implications of a galaxy spanning empire provoked in them. 

“Yes. Yes! I can. I was quite good at managing for Princess Jenai before, well... you know. Though I’d like to say if where to simply remove the apparatus on your face, she could simply re-”  

The glare the Admiral shot them and where currently suffering, under quickly ended that suggestion. Once done, he quickly got back to the business at hand. 

“Then let us begin...” He pulled out a strange remote as he said that. 

“I am Admiral Karius.” Each word translated for the deaf General’s benefit as he went. 

“Given your... condition. I have decided to grant you a gift in anticipation of your future co-operation.” 

The general’s only response was a continuation of her own glare. 

“In my hand, is a device that controls an implant we had installed in your head last night.”

At that Amaya couldn’t help palm the near invisible scars now on the right side of her head just above her ears. 

“This implant... Will let you hear.” Both the general and the translator, Kazi’s eyes went wide at that.

“Now...” He began pacing in front of her “Since your ears have obviously never been used, I imagine the sudden volume if not properly adjusted will be quite unpleasant. Answer my questions in a manner I deemed satisfactory, and that won’t be so. Understand?” He turned to her and let the moment sink in. Allowing her a chance to digest the information.

“So... and be truthful now. Where are your forces?” 

Amaya could only look up at the half-man, this Admiral, with disgust. They had the power to grant her and countless other’s who through a chance of birth or accident had been denied, and they used it for this?! As leverage in Torture?  The spit she hurled onto his boot in response was too good for him, but it was all her outraged mind could manage at the moment, but give her time.

All the same, Karius was not impressed. “Very well... Trooper!” One of the armored guards stepped into the enclosed cell. “Escort the translator back to their cell. They won’t e needed for a while.” 

Kazi could only gulp and spare a glance of pity at the Human General she’d grown fond of. Even managing a quick sign of “Stay strong.” before exiting with the escort.

Alone Karius, with a flick of the remote, unleashes a sensation Amaya had not experienced before, came crashing down upon her. Every rustle of clothing, every creek of the metal around her, and the steps of the angered Imperial walking towards her. Each was heard with an intensity her sensitive ears where overwhelmed by. 

In other circumstances, this change would be a joy. The chance to hear all the things she had been deaf to, but as she was discovering. The Empire can warped even that to their twisted purpose. The metal whirring of her captors arm, catching her off guard as it grabbed hold of her head and forced her once erratic head, to focus on his single exposed eye. Before speaking to her in a voice even her inexperienced ears knew was not how a voice was meant to sound. The intimating high class baritone his voice possessed, made even more ungodly by the anger in it, before being processed by the mechanical voice box into something truly torturous, as he spoke as harsh as he could for maximum discomfort. 

“Where, are, your FORCES!” Each word felt like a razor had been pierced into her mind and it was only going to get worse, she could tell. But she would not be broken. Not just because, she couldn’t yet recognize spoken language, but because of a reason far more substantial. 

She was the shield of Katolis. The sister of Queen Serai, the Aunt to her nephews, smart Callum, and sweet Ezran. For that, her sisters memory, for her family, and her country, she would not break... She was certain. 

But she did not yet know the full power of the Empire. That they had broken far greater then her with far worse methods at their disposal. That lack of knowledge may save her... Or not. 

Epilogue 

Sometime later...

She had no idea how long she’d been there, days for certain. They didn’t bother telling her, a classic technique with prisoners even on her world. All she knew was the half man was back in her cell again. Once more without the translator who she began to see less of when it became clear to them, she was putting together her sign language with the words spoken, despite herself. 

“I must admit, General Amaya.” She was in no mood.

“Despite my best efforts even striking at the most vulnerable part of you, you have manged to choose defiance, over submission again and again. No matter the discomfort. Ah. If only some of my colleagues had such mettle...” 

And this is where he’ll pull the rug out she thought. 

“Unfortunately.” There it is. “My superior, has grown impatient.” He continued, almost sounding sorrowful. “So he shall now take over this interrogation, using his own unpleasant methods of extracting information. Before he does I wish you to understand that what happens next, is by your own hand. You could have avoided this had you complied.” When the metal door opened, Amaya had up to that point thought nothing could sound worse then the metallic voice of Karius. But the moment her sore but rested ears caught that sound... the chilling rhythm of the automated inhale and exhale, that accompanied the heavy footsteps of the black armored Warrior that just had walked in who towered over her and Karius. 

She realized, what the true horror of the empire was...

---

It was the most evil thing I could think of the Empire doing to her. Hope it had the effect I was going for. Added in Karius because he looks like the kind of Imperial who gets his hands dirty, and has. And is a perfect rival for Amaya to have a fist fight with when she breaks free, or is broken free.

Not really much of a writer (or at least not a confident one) but I think this is pretty good. 

[mollymauk-teafleak]

Awkward Sibling Hug

Guess which minor ship I’ve jumped aboard. Toot toot for there being no content so I make my own! 

If you enjoy this or my other work, reblog, leave a comment on ao3 or donate to my ko-fi! 

------

Cassandra’s mouth twitched up into a smile at the sign on the elevator doors. Printed on stiff, dove grey paper with the crest of the building at the border (what kind of apartment building had a crest?) so it didn’t marr the effortless elegance of the foyer, its tone of polite exasperation was clear nonetheless.

No residents are to tamper with the elevator under any circumstances. Regardless of previous experience with mechanical engineering. A qualified technician has been contacted.

She had a pretty good idea who that referred to.

The stairs weren’t so bad at first. The black carpet was so thick and lush Cassandra felt as if every step were a spring and the whole staircase was wrapped in nothing but thick glass so you could watch the city unfold as you climbed. And climbed. And climbed.

By the time she was almost at the top, even her small backpack of books and a few days worth of clothes was starting to feel like it was full of rocks. She started to wonder if this ridiculous, ostentatious building was actually so tall she’d start to get altitude sickness before she reached her brother’s door.

She’d been here a few times before, of course, whenever time away from her classes coincided with the part of her that missed Percy getting louder than the part that wanted to strangle him when she saw him. And of course, Cassandra had grown up surrounded by luxury, they all had, there was a part of her that could still sink into it so easily.

Percy’s apartment was the topmost one, the one their father had been granted when their company had bought the building in the first place and fixed it up and polished it into what it was. It made sense for Percy to live here, of course, Cassandra knew that. They’d probably always intended it for him when he came of age. But especially now that everything Mother and Father had built was his, the company, the subsidiaries, the charities, all of it and this building lay in the centre of it all like a beating heart. Like a glass and steel spider squatting in the middle of it’s impossibly intricate web. Surely here was where he belonged.

She just didn’t understand how he bore it.

Surrounded by things that reminded them of their parents. Decor so elegant that it could only have been chosen by their mother. Old heirlooms that had the family crest engraved in it. Books their father that thumbed through so often, highlighted and crossed out and scribbled his thoughts down in the margins so he wouldn’t forget them later, almost like he was bottling his sudden flashes of brilliance.

Cassandra would have torn and ripped it to shreds, as small as she possibly could, and set it on fire.

That was another one of their reasons she saw her brother so infrequently. A reason other than the distance between school and the city, the distance she’d placed there herself, or the natural distance but there by two siblings who were either just too different or far too similar.

It was the other, deeper distance between the two of them, though who’d put that one there, neither of them had any idea. It was a distance made of awkward silences, an uncomfortable tugging in the chest, when your throat closes suddenly because a slant of a jaw, a sudden smile reminded you of someone you missed so desperately.

It was hard to be around.

But Percy was all Cassandra had left. And she was all he had left. So she was coming for a surprise visit, just to see his tired, heavy lidded eyes brighten a little at the sight of her and hear him call her Cassie and look so proud when she told him her most recent grades, even if she’d been a little disappointed in them herself. It would be worth the twinge in her chest when he’d smile like their mother.

Cassandra rapped on the black wood door. There was a silver number nailed to the front, a perfect round 0, she could see her reflection stretched and twisted in its surface.

No one came to her knock which didn’t surprise her. Percy was probably sequestered in his workshop like a medieval monk, bent over greasy gears and cogs and springs rather than illuminated manuscripts, music blaring through his earphones which he turned up far too loud to be good for his health.

Another reason why Cassandra had come. Someone needed to make sure Percy got some sun every once in a while. And while she didn’t wholly appreciate that the task had been left to her, it was a small price to pay to feel less lonely. Or at least to be lonely with someone else, who understood the unique, sharp de Rolo brand of loneliness, passed down like a particularly ugly heirloom.

The door was locked but Cassandra had a key, fishing around in her pocket before closing her fingers around the reassuringly cold metal. Trying incredibly hard to feel, or at least act like, she felt at home, she dropped her backpack straight in the hallway and kicked off her trainers.

“Percival?” she called, knowing it annoyed him when she called him that. Maybe he wasn't at home, he might be at work, at one of the rare meetings he was required to attend as de facto head of the company. Or maybe out combing the scrap yards or making deals with the less than reputable scrap dealers he still kept in contact with from his slightly seedier days before he successfully won back his parents’ worldly goods.

She walked through to the living room, noting how the whole place still looked like an Ikea showroom, perfect and pristine and unlived in, all of the mess of her brother’s existence carefully stored away behind his workshop door. The walls were white, the furnishings were gleaming steel and black leather, the cupboards looked like they’d never been opened.

The sofa had a man on it.

A man who was completely and utterly naked. Feet up on the coffee table and a book in his hands, resting in his lap, mercifully providing some cover.  

Cassandra stopped in her tracks. The man regarded her with eyes that were more bemused than embarrassed or startled, relaxing back on her brother’s sofa like he’d always been there.  

His hair was thick and black, tied carelessly into a knot on the top of his head that was coming undone, spilling locks like dripping ink down his shoulders. His ears were delicatley pointed, subtly elvish. His mouth turned up in a perpetual amused smirk.

“Well, hello,” he said, his voice sprightly, accented like her’s and Percy’s though with a bounce to it that no de Rolo had ever possessed.

“Hello,” she replied politely, not left with many other options, short of throwing her shoes at him.

There was a long silence, while the two of them sat and marveled at the ridiculous awkwardness of their situation. Fortunately, just as things were getting on to the point where they really should have to do something, bare footsteps came from down the hallway and things got insurmountably worse.

“Vax, darling, I don’t think my arse can stand another round just yet but I had a think about what I want for breakfast and I’ve decided on your co-”

There was no awkward pause with Percy, he went straight for an alarmed, birdlike shriek, jumping and slamming his back against the wall. Fortunately, he was wearing boxer shorts.

“Cassandra, what in the name of fuck are you doing here?” he yelped, face immediately turning vermillion.

“I thought I’d treat my brother to a surprise visit,” she replied, her words still very deliberately calm and careful, even as her brain was shrieking inside her skull. Never in a million years would she have expected this and she couldn’t see why the gods were punishing her so. “I didn’t know you were going to have...company.”

“You could have called!” Percy ground out through gritted teeth, eyes darting to this Vax man, sitting on the sofa and grinning delightedly like this was the best day of his life.

“I’m Vax’ildan, by the way,” he chirped, fluttering his fingers at her.

“Can you go dress please?” Percy managed to choke out, eyes begging shamelessly, looking like he was trying to decide whether or not to just make a break for it.

“Of course, my love,” Vax’ildan rose languidly, still keeping his book rakishly covering the juncture between his legs, though Cassandra snapped her eyes to the view out of the wall to wall windows and kept them firmly there until the delicate, padding footfalls of the half elf had passed her by. “Lovely to finally meet you, Cassandra!”

The two siblings stood silently in their torment for a long few moments, neither able to quite look at the other, Percy in his embarrassment, Cassandra because she had never seen her brother in this little clothing and had no intention of starting today.

“I like men,” Percy ventured cautiously after a while, “I don’t think I ever...um, formally announced that to you.”

“It was a little obvious,” Cassandra replied, wondering which muscles the human body used to cringe because she was pretty sure hers were going to ache tomorrow.

Percy shifted from foot to foot, looking utterly lost for what to say or do.

“He called you love,” Cassandra eventually said, her voice quiet and curious.

Percy’s dark eyes flickered to her, surprised. He hadn’t been expecting her to say that. Neither had Cassandra. Both of them got the sudden, strong sensation that they were in the vast uncharted waters of their relationship.

“He did…”

“And do you?” Cassanda asked, making herself look at him. His face, at least. “Do you love him, I mean?”

Percy’s mouth opened and closed, though not in the way where he didn’t know the answer. More in the way where he was trying to form words he wasn’t used to saying.

“I do love him,” he eventually murmured, “I know that’s strange for me. But I do, I love him. I’d like to spend the rest of my life with him, if I’m allowed.”

Cassandra allowed herself a small smile and a weak chuckle. She reshouldered her backpack, striding past Percy, towards the spare bedroom that was always hers when she stayed over. As she passed, she patted him on the shoulder in the detached, fond way they had. Though for the first time, there was a spark of hope in it.

“I didn’t know you had it in you, brother.”

[spacegaysss]

Lionel vs. all of the odds

He absolutely can’t believe it. His team must collectively share two brain cells for this to happen again. How in the world could they have left him behind for the  2nd time in one year? In moments like this he really wishes that his co-captains were a little more responsible, but there’s no point in pondering that now, he needs to figure out how to get home as fast as possible.

Making his way through the tunnels of the Signal Iduna Park, he really hopes to find someone who can help him, maybe call a taxi or figure out some other way to get to the airport. He’s so caught up in his sour mood that just as he’s turning the corner, he’s colliding with someone very tall and solid.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t really pay attention to where I’m going.”

Leo’s already bad temper worsens when he practically has to crane his neck to look up at the guy who so rudely ran into him. Turns out he just got bulldozed by Dortmund’s keeper, Roman Bürki. And let’s just say he doesn’t particularly enjoy the sight of the one person who dared to come between him and his first Champions League goal of the season.

“Are you lost or something? I thought your team already left?” Bürki has the audacity to ask him. How kind of him to remind Leo of his current misfortune.

“Uhm, do you even understand me? I’m sure Paco is around here somewhere if you need someone to translate.” The keeper is still trying to talk to him and it’s getting more annoying by the second.

“I understand you just fine, thanks for the vote of confidence. Yes, the bus already left and yes, they forgot me. Again. Now if you’d be so kind as to get out of my way so I can go find someone who knows how to get to the plane in time, that’d be amazing.”

Leo has had enough of the babbling keeper and doesn’t wait for an answer before he shoulders past him in search of literally anywhere to go. To really get the message across that he doesn’t want to have anything to do with the other, he even pulls out his phone and starts to swipe at the display, even though Geri still hasn’t called him back.

“I could take you to the airport if you want” Bürki offers, unfortunately not getting his message and easily matching his pace with his longer legs.

Leo gives up and looks at Bürki skeptically. “You really know how to get there in time before the plane leaves? Because I couldn’t really reach anyone on the bus and if they still haven’t noticed that I’m gone…”

He’s not gonna lie, it stings a little to be forgotten. It’s not like he’s the center of attention at all times, but at least Luis or Geri could’ve noticed his absence by now.

“Well, it’ll definitely be quicker than calling a cab first and it’s not like we haven’t taken the bus to the airport from here a thousand times.”

If Bürki insists on driving him, who is Leo to refuse. So he replies with a short “Okay”, holds onto his backpack tighter (the fool might offer to carry it for him) and motions for the keeper to lead the way.  

They spend the walk to the garage in silence. It’s awkward, but Leo’s not really a fan of small talk and Bürki doesn’t seem to want to aggravate him further. Once they reach Bütki’s car and climb into the monstrous jeep, Leo leans back into the comfy seat and closes his eyes. He has absolutely ignored how exhausted he is. With the injury he hasn’t really played much recently and the game has taken everything out of him. He couldn’t exactly relax until now, being too upset about his team, the draw, the lack of chances, his repeated abandonment… but now that he has a minute to come down, the tiredness lies on him like a heavy blanket.

He's pretty sure that he would’ve fallen asleep immediately if not for Bürki’s ongoing chatter.

“So, what did you think of your first game here? I always thought that it’s pretty intimidating to play here. It’s completely different if you’re the home team. But you know that of course. I reckon it’s similar with the Camp Nou.”

Leo just makes vaguely confirmative noises since he really isn’t in the mood for chit chat. The drive is a lot shorter than he remembers, but that might be because he fell asleep in the middle of it. He only wakes up when Bürki opens the door on the passenger side and looks at him with a pitying expression on his face.

“Hey, I’m sorry to tell you, but the plane has already left. It looks like you need to spend the night.”

Deep down, Leo must’ve known that this will happen, because he doesn’t feel anything but a deep sense of inevitability.

“Fine, but I don’t think I should stay at a hotel. Or the club. The press would probably go nuts with all the rumors that might cause.” Leo muses, hoping that Bürki hasn’t lost his helper syndrome all of a sudden.

“Well, I guess you could stay at my place until tomorrow and see if the club could send you a plane or whatever it is they do in a situation like this.” The goodhearted keeper relents while already making his way around the car to continue their odyssey.

The drive to Bürki’s place takes a little longer and it’s no surprise that Leo falls asleep again. This time he doesn’t even wake up to Bürki opening the door, oh no, it’s a lot more embarrassing than that. He needs to be shaken awake. Like a kid that fell asleep on a long car ride that’s too big to be carried inside.

Leo’s still grumpy when he climbs back out of the jeep and almost trips over his own feet on the way up to the keeper’s flat. But his mood improves a little at the prospect of a warm bed. He had absolutely forgotten how cold it can get in Germany in early autumn.

Bürki is confidently leading the way through is apartment which Leo takes as his cue to follow him.

“So I don’t really have a guest bedroom, but my couch is super comfortable. I’ll just get you a blanket and pillows and stuff. Oh, and I have a spare toothbrush that you can use.”

He’s already left before Leo can answer, so he just sits down on the aforementioned comfortable couch and looks through his backpack for his toiletries, suddenly glad he took a long shower back at the stadium.

Bürki is back with a fluffy looking blanket before Leo could get his stuff out, motioning for him to get up so that the host could prepare his bed for the night.

“Have you tried to call your teammates again? Maybe they’ve had time to look at their phones by now.” Bürki inquires, still trying for chit chat.

And for some reason, that’s the straw that gives Leo the last push. He’s exhausted, abandoned, unhappy about his performance and now he’s crying on a stranger’s couch in the middle of the night. He should really get a grip.

Meanwhile Bürki is just staring at him with a deer in the headlights expression. He keeps standing in front of him for a minute before he gingerly sits next to him and pats his shoulder in a ‘there there’ kind of gesture.

If Leo thought he was pathetic before, that’s nothing compared to the moment when he gives in and clutches to Bürki’s (maybe he should start thinking of him as Roman now) shoulders and buries his face in the other’s broad chest.

“I’m really sorry, this can’t be easy for you. And I really didn’t mean to pry or anything, I’m just really bad at smalltalk.”

Leo just shrugs, not trusting his voice right now.

________________________________________________________________

Leo blinks awake slowly, bright sunlight shining in his face. He must’ve passed out from exhaustion last night. Once his sight has cleared up and his surroundings no longer look blurry, he notices that his head is lying on someone’s lap. That can only mean…

He jumps up from the couch as soon as he’s figured himself out, grabbing his phone and dashing into the bathroom. Once he unlocks the device he finds 24 missed calls from Geri, along with several messages from his team mates as well as the coach. Before he can call his best friend back though, there’s a tentative knock on the locked door.

“Hey, are you alright? You’re not sick or anything? “ Bürki asks concernedly.

There’s really nothing else to do but open the door and answer the man face to face if he wants to keep any part of his dignity.

“I’m fine, thanks for asking. I was just gonna call back Geri and I didn’t wanna disturb you.”

Wow, great going there Leo, lying to the man who basically rescued you last night.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, I was up.” The taller man answers with a charming smile and Leo can’t help the blush that spreads all over his pale face.

“Well, that’s good then. I guess I should call him back now and figure out how to get home.”

“Yeah, I bet your team’s worried about their star player.”

Leo knows that the other is just trying to ease the tension, but he can’t help the dark chuckle that escapes him. Where was his team’s concern last night when he could’ve used it?

“Thank you. For taking me with you last night. I hope I didn’t inconvenience you too much.” He tries to rectify the situation. He was pretty mean yesterday. Mocking him, taking his help for granted and then crying on him before falling asleep on his lap, effectively trapping the other on his couch.

“Oh, don’t worry about that, it’s fine. Really. I’ll leave you to it then.”

The rest of the morning passes rather uneventfully. Leo calls Valverde instead of Geri, who promises to send a plane to get him, which leaves him loads of time to pack his backpack and say goodbye to his host.

Turns out Roman even makes some decent eggs and coffee, so they spend an hour sitting around the kitchen island in more or less comfortable silence.

At eleven, there’s a knock coming from the front door, which Roman hastes to answer.

Leo just stays in his place, not really eager to see anyone this morning. From his position in the kitchen he hears two people talking in a language he doesn’t understand, probably German.

Before he’s really processed who exactly shows up in Roman Bürki’s flat before noon, someone strides into the kitchen and heads straight for the coffee.

Then there’s multiple things happening at once: the person, who turns out to be Mario Götze, whirls back around, looking like he’s seen a ghost, Roman steps back into the kitchen all while insistently talking to the new comer and shooting Leo concerned looks.

“How? Why are you here? What are you doing in Roman’s kitchen?” Götze asks him, thankfully switching to English.

“I couldn’t get home last night, he offered to let me stay.” Leo answers, trying to stay cool. There’s no need to freak out now. This is just a minor annoyance.

“What… the hell? You know what, I’m just going to drive to the shoot now and tell everyone that you’re not feeling well, Roman. But you better show up later.” Götze leaves in a hurry, his coffee forgotten on the counter.

“So, you had a press thing this morning?” Leo asks the keeper who’s looking a little dazed where he’s standing by the door.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. Mario will cover for me and I can always show up later.” Roman assures him.

“Well, if it’s alright, you could just take me to the airport now. It won’t be long until the jet arrives.” Leo offers, hoping not to inconvenience the other any further.

“Sure, c’mon then.” Roman agrees, already on the way to the garage.

As Leo gets in the car for the last time for the foreseeable future, he thinks that this might’ve been one of his crazier days in his life.

________________________________________________________________

Hi everyone! I’ve been putting this one off for a while, but I promised @boreussia-durmmund I’d write something with Roman and Messi for the amazing Champions League match, so here it is. If you like obscure pairings as much as I do, you’re very welcome on my blog!

PS: Here’s the link to the article about Leo being forgotten at Anfield Road.

PPS: Find more obscure pairing here, here and here. (The sequel to Rafa and Roman will be coming this week)

PPPS: My requests are still open.