#But let me know whatcha think I’ll love to see other folks thoughts

[ladychandraofthemoone]

First Poll!!🧡

I got 3 different backstories for her I’m leaning towards the Cronk & Harwick cause of her interactions with the TUGS, the Peel Godred, and Harwick station members but I wanna see other folks thoughts after being inspired by the server about this line being a thing and re-opening it but at the same time I’ll love her interactions with the ng engines even though it would be like a hank/Sam Situation XD.

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Lost Boy

Sodapop Curtis x Reader

Words: 4305

Summary: 16 years of never belonging and you’ve finally had enough. You move in with your outcast sister in Tulsa and meet a group of boys who finally make you feel like you’re where you’re supposed to be. Inspired by the song Lost Boy by Ruth B.

Notes: Peter Pan is one of my all time favorite stories and I love this song. I thought it could bring a whimsical, yet still angsty feel to a Sodapop imagine so I hope you guys enjoy! 

Warnings: Mentions of abuse

Sodapop and more: HERE

-

There was a time, when I was alone

Nowhere to go and no place to call home

You always wanted to know what it was like to fly. To soar above the clouds, too far away to hear your parent’s screaming. Watching the world zoom by through the car window was the closest you’d ever felt to flying. You were free.

Pulling up to the little shack of a house, your sister, Beth, gave you a small smile.

“It's not much. You’ll be sleeping on the couch until we can clean out the attic.” She rambled. Beth rambled when she was nervous. “We were going to have you stay in the boys’ room, but Michael has a fever so he’s had to stay in bed-”

“Beth,” You gave her the biggest smile you could. You hadn’t smiled like that in a long time. “It’s perfect.” There was a loud racket coming from the house at the end of the block and three rowdy boys came bounding down the street. 

“Hey Mrs. Austin.” One greeted as you both got out of the car. Your sister waved and he grinned. You never knew a boy could have a smile as nice as he had. 

“Steve, my engine is making that sound again.” Beth said to one of the other boys. 

“I’ll look at it as soon as we get back.” He said and the three took off down the street again. The one with the nice smile looked back at you and for a second you thought he might have winked. 

“Who was that?” You asked, turning your attention back to your sister as she helped you unpack. You didn’t have much. Just some clothes and a couple books. 

“The one I was talking to is Steve Randal. He’s been helping me keep this piece of junk rolling.” Beth patted the hood of the car. “The others are two of the Curtis boys. They live with their big brother Darryl down the block.” She pointed to the house the boys had come out of. “Nice kids.”  

You watched them walk for a moment longer before taking your things inside. Your brother in law greeted you with a suffocating hug and one of your nephews wrapped around your leg. 

“John.” Beth laughed, prying him off of you. John was six-years-old and Michael was four. They were two of the sweetest and silliest boys you’d ever met. 

“Look at how big you’ve gotten,” You said, feeling a twinge of guilt. You hadn’t seen the boys since Michaels first birthday. You were lucky if your parents let you write Beth letters. 

Beth was your age when she got pregnant with John. Your parents kicked her out of the house and told her never to come back. Her and Jack got married and moved here, to Tulsa. Two years later, she had Michael. They were happy, which was more than you could say for your parents. But you’d never have to worry about them again. 

After you settled in a little, you decided to find a quiet place in the neighborhood to read. You’d lost count how many times you had read Peter Pan, but you never got tired of it. The idea of a place like Neverland got you through every fight, every tear filled night, and every cigar burn. 

You walked around for a while before you found a nice spot in the big empty lot. There were a couple of logs to lean on and a spot where a fire had been. With winter break coming to its end, the January air made you shiver. You didn’t mind. You were too happy to even notice. 

Just as you opened to the first page, you saw a figure approaching. He was hunched over with his hands shoved in his pockets. He didn’t even notice you until he reached where you were sitting. This must be his usual spot. 

“Hey, who are you?” He spat, though it was hard to be intimidated by his quivering voice. 

“My name is Y/N,” You said calmly, setting your book aside. “I just moved here.”

“Yeah, well you better beat it.” He ducked his head like he was trying to hide his face from you. “There are some real creeps around here at night and you don’t look like no greaser girl.” 

“I’m usually pretty good at handling myself.” You stood, not to scare him, but to show that you weren’t scared. “What’s your name?” 

“What’s it to you?”

“Well, if we’re going to be friends, I’d like to know your name.”

“Who said I wanted to be friends?” 

You sighed and tucked your book under your arm.

“Suit yourself.” You walked past him, bumping his shoulder as you went. 

“Wait.” He squeaked. You turned around. “What… what are you reading?” A little surprised, you lifted up the cover so he could see it.

“It’s my favorite. I’ve read it so many times, but I never get tired of it.” You beamed as he read of the gold lettering on the cover, worn from years of being very well loved. You could see his face now and you held back a gasp. His cheek was red and swollen and his lip was split. He caught you staring and quickly turned away. 

“Like I said, you better get out of here.” He huffed. Without thinking, you put a hand on his shoulder. 

“My dad hit me too.” You didn’t know how you knew, but you did. At first, he seemed angry and jerked his shoulder away. But his face softened and he looked at the ground. 

“My name’s Johnny.”

“Now was that so hard?” You playfully nudged his arm to try and ease the tension. He even smiled a little. 

“Johnny!” Another figure appeared across the lot, barreling towards you like a steam engine. You were worried that it might be his dad, but as he got closer, you saw how young he was. He looked Beth’s age, maybe younger. 

“Hey Darry.” Johnny greeted, his voice still quiet. 

“I thought that was you I saw slinkin 'over here.” the man crossed his arms disapprovingly. “The hell are you doin out here? You’re gonna freeze to death.” Darry saw the signs of violence on the boy’s face and sighed. “Come on home with me and I'll fix you something to eat.”

“Thanks Darry.” Johnny muttered. Darry’s stare landed on you. 

“Haven’t seen you before.”

“I just moved here today.” You meant to sound tougher, but your voice came out as a squeak. Man, he was scary. After giving you a once over and figuring you weren’t trouble, his hard stared turned a little more welcoming. 

“You must be Beth Austin’s kid sister.”

“Yes, sir.” 

“No need for that, now.” He chuckled. “You can call me Darry, same as everybody else. Your sister told me to watch out for you.”

“She did?” You knew Beth was protective, but she didn’t have to alert the neighborhood.

“Probably wants you to stay away from us greasers.” Johnny said and Darry tousled his hair. 

“You can come over for dinner too, if you want.” He offered. You would have declined, but your stomach started growling something awful. Darry motioned for you to follow him. 

“That’s Darry for you.” Johnny whispered with a small smirk. “He’s got a habit of takin’ in strays.” 

-

He came to me with the sweetest smile

Told me he wanted to talk for a while

It was kinda funny how well you fit in at a table full of boys. Darry was still fixing dinner and Johnny was talking to the youngest Curtis, Ponyboy. It only took a little convincing from Johnny for Ponyboy to get comfortable with you being there. 

“Damnit, where is that boy?” Darry exclaimed, throwing down a dish towel. 

“He probably got caught up talking to all those girls that come to see him.” Ponyboy said, sounding a little jealous. 

“Yeah, well if he wants dinner, he better get his butt back here.”

“Who are we waiting or?” You asked Johnny in a low voice. 

“Oh, they’re just goin’ on about Sodapop. He’s the middle one.”

“His name is Sodapop?” You wondered. You didn’t laugh like other girls sometimes did. You were actually curious. 

“Sure is. Our dad liked unique names.” Ponyboy beamed. “And Soda’s as unique as they come.”

“That’s one word for it.” Darry laughed, shaking his head. As if he heard his name, the middle Curtis burst through the front door, an excited grin lighting up his face.

“You shoulda seen her, Darry.” He howled. “Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

“You say that about every girl.” His older brother scoffed. 

“Well this time, I mean it. And she’s just down the street!” Sodapop leaned against the fridge with a dreamy expression. Darry cleared his throat, jerking his head towards the dinner table. Ponyboy and Johnny were ready to burst from laughter. As soon as Sodapop’s eyes landed on you, he nearly fell over, his face turning a very cute shade of pink.

“You must be Sodapop.” You tried your best to hide the nervousness in your voice, not to mention the furious blush lighting up your face. You had never been called pretty before. Maybe he wasn’t talking about you. After all, he only saw you for a second. 

“Yes ma’am.” He straightened himself out and smiled. Lord, that smile. “You-uh-you’re the girl I saw with Mrs. Austin.” 

“What’re you calling her ‘ma’am’ for?” Johnny exclaimed. Ponyboy elbowed him in the side. “Ow! What? She’s just one of us!” You laughed at the two, but kept your eyes on Soda.

“That’s me alright. Beth’s my big sister. I’m gonna live with her now.” You said proudly. 

“Where are your folks?” The youngest boy wondered. 

“Ponyboy,” Darry scolded sharply. He knew that the story probably wasn’t a nice one. In this neighborhood, they never were. You didn’t seem upset by the younger boy’s question. 

“They’re still in Chicago. Be glad you’ll never have to meet them.” You shrugged, your gaze returning to Sodapop. His blue eyes were bright with curiosity. He sat down across from you and Darry put down a plate of sandwiches. 

It was the liveliest dinner you’d ever had. Darry and Ponyboy squabbled back and forth while Johnny scarfed down his sandwich. 

“Whatcha reading?” Sodapop asked, eyeing the book you had set on the table. 

“Oh, um, you’ll probably think it’s silly.” You quickly pulled the book into your lap. His lips fell into a pout. 

“I promise I won’t.” His voice was so sweet that you knew he wasn’t going to make fun of you. You slid the worn down and well loved book across to him. “Peter Pan?” He read. “I remember that Disney movie when we were kids. Never thought about reading the book.”

“That’s cause you don’t read.” Ponyboy snickered. There was a thud and Ponyboy cried out, rubbing his now sore shin. 

“Is it any good?” Soda asked. 

“Oh it’s my favorite.” You beamed. “I guess the idea of flying away to a place where you never have to grow up was a nice thought when I was with my parents and all their yelling.”

You felt the tone of the table change. Ponyboy and Johnny looked at each other, Darry clasped his hands together on the table and Soda gave you a sympathetic smile. The grim shift made you think of home. 

“Alright, enough with the long faces.” You exclaimed, leaning across to playfully shove Ponyboy’s shoulder. “That’s all over now.” You looked at each boy with the brightest smile they’d ever seen. Your gaze landed on Sodapop and his lips returned your grin. “This is Neverland.”

Smiles returned to the boys’ faces and Darry even chuckled. You and Soda just kept looking at each other. 

“You clearly haven’t been in Tulsa long enough.” A new voice sneered. Everybody looked at the boy standing in the doorway. He had a hard stare and a mean look about him, but you didn’t let that scare you. You’d seen meaner. 

“Anywhere is better than where I was before.” You replied calmly. The boy narrowed his eyes and looked you over. 

“Is there something you need, Dally?” Darry asked sternly. 

“Little bird told me there was a new girl in the neighborhood. Didn’t think she’d be slumming with us greasers already.” Dally kept his mean glare on you until Sodapop stood up. 

“Come on, Y/N. Why don’t I walk you home?”

“Soda must think you need protecting.” He smirked. “I think you look like you can handle a guy like me.”

“Cut it out, Dallas.” Darry’s voice was a warning now.

“It’s alright. I should be getting back anyway to help Beth get the boys in bed.” You pushed away from the table, thanking Darry for dinner and saying goodnight to everyone. Lastly, you turned to Dally as you and Soda passed him. “It was nice meeting you, Dallas.”

You could feel his stare burning into the back of your head as you stepped out into the cool night air. 

“Sorry about him.” Sodapop said, shoving his hands in the back pockets of his jeans as he walked. “Dally’s really not so bad. He’s just acting like that cause he don’t know you yet.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You shrugged. “I knew plenty of boys like that back in Chicago, only I didn’t have a tough guy like Darry or a sweet one like you to stand up to them, so Dallas is right.”

“About what?”

“I can handle guys like him.” You bumped his shoulder with yours and laughed. “I appreciate you walking with me, though. Beth would kill me if she thought I was out here by myself at night.”

“Has she always been protective like that?”

“I guess.” You thought for a moment. “When we were kids, she was always sticking up for me to our old man. She never let him lay a hand on me as long as she was around.” You found a pebble on the sidewalk and nudged it with your toe. “When she got pregnant, she didn't have a choice but leave. I think she just still sees me as that scrawny 10-year-old.” 

You walked together in silence for a moment. You stopped suddenly, looking up at the sky. Stars stared back down at you with their bright faces. You liked to think they were smiling. Soda was a few steps away before he noticed that you had stopped. 

“What’re you looking at?” He asked, walking back to join you. He tilted his head upward, trying to find whatever had caught your attention. 

“The sky’s a lot prettier out here.” You mused. “In Chicago, it’s all lights and smog. But here, you can really see the stars.” That feeling of flying was back, taking you up into the air just like the book. 

“You’re a different kinda girl, you know that?” Sodapop laughed. You spun around with your arms extended. 

“You have to be different to survive, Sodapop Curtis.” When you looked at him, he could have sworn that your eyes twinkled like the stars. 

-

I am a Lost Boy, from Neverland

Usually hanging out with Peter Pan

“They were not nearly so elegant as Peter, they could not help kicking a little, but their heads were bobbing against the ceiling and there is almost nothing so delicious as that.” You read in a clear voice so that all the boys could hear you. It was strangely nice out and the afternoon had turned into a kind of gathering at the park. You were sitting underneath the jungle gym with Johnny and Ponyboy sprawled out across from you. Sodapop and Steve had their knees hooked on the bars to see who could hang upside down the longest. 

“Do you think this counts as flying?” Soda grinned down at you. Even upside down, it was the sweetest smile you’d ever seen. 

“Only until you hit the ground.” Steve swung out his arm to try and knock him down, but Soda was quicker than that and Steve was the one that ended up in the dirt. Everybody laughed and Steve was only angry for a minute. 

“Let her keep going.” Johnny whined. He seemed less skittish than he had last night. Ponyboy waited until Steve wasn’t looking to nod eagerly in agreement. 

“Pony, don’t you have studying to do?” Soda climbed down and gave his brother a pleading look. It didn’t take long for Ponyboy to catch on. He made a face and got up, nudging Johnny to join him. 

“Don’t be too late, Soda else Darry’ll take it out on me.” He grumbled, thanking you for the story before taking off back to the house. Steve also came up with an excuse to ditch, leaving just you and Sodapop, who tried to look surprised.

“Is this how you pick up all your girls? Cornering them in parks?” You scoffed, putting your book back in your bag. Man, his face turned red. 

“I don’t know what- um- I’m not… no.” He stammered, kicking the toe of his boot into the dirt. You laughed. 

“Relax, Soda, I’m just teasin’ you.” You shoved him playfully and slung your bag over your shoulder. The wind picked up a little and you shivered. 

“Don’t you have a coat or something?” Soda asked, watching the goosebumps appear on your arms. You’d picked one of your short sleeve shirts since it was so nice, but now the weather seemed to remember what month it was. “Here.”

Soda wrapped an arm around your shoulders, rubbing your skin to help warm you up. His hands were softer than you thought they’d be with him working at the gas station and all. Being so close brought a pleasant pink color to your cheeks. Before you knew it, you were inching closer and closer until he kissed you. 

His lips were gentle and soft and perfect. You both forgot to breathe for a while, but that didn’t bother you. When you did finally pull away, you both had the biggest grins on your faces. 

“Maybe I should walk you home.” Soda said breathlessly. You nodded and, with a rush of courage you laced your fingers together as you walked. 

By the time you got home, you felt like you were floating. It wasn’t the same as flying. This wasn’t rushed or heart-pounding. It was quieter and sweet. You couldn’t help but give him another kiss goodnight. When he was walking back to his house, he seemed to have a skip in his step. 

You swung the front door open with a wide smile, giggling to yourself like a little kid. But that happy feeling washed away when you saw who Beth was sitting with. 

“Daddy?”

-

Run, run Lost Boy, they say to me

Away from all of reality

You ran until your lungs felt like they’d burst. All you heard were three terrifying words and you got out of there as fast as you could “Takin’ you home.” You were home. That bastard wasn’t taking you anywhere. 

You took the back way to the Curtis house, ducking your way through other people’s back yards so that your father wouldn’t be able to follow you. You were too afraid to go around front, so you found a low window and knocked on the glass. 

“Darry!” You whisper-shouted. “Soda, Pony, is anybody in there? Sodapop?”

The curtains were pulled aside and an irritated looking Darry peaked out at you. He lifted up the window pane all the way so he could lean out and get a better look at you. 

“The hell are you doing here, Y/N?” He asked. “Soda said he just dropped you off at home a few minutes ago.”

“I couldn’t go around front, Darry, he might see me.” You sniffed, wiping your nose on your sleeve. You must have been crying cause your face was all wet. “Could you help me in?”

He nodded and pulled you up by the arms. As you climbed in the window, Ponyboy appeared behind Darry with big eyes. You must have looked worse than you thought from climbing all those fences and cutting through yards. 

“What happened to you?” 

“Pony, go get her a glass of water. And where’s that other kid brother of mine?” Darry shouted before turning back to you. “Jeez, kiddo, you’re shaking like a leaf.”

“Yeah, Darry?” Soda popped his head into the room. His eyes went as wide as Pony’s had when he saw you. “Hey, Y/N, what’s the matter?” Darry grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked him forward. 

“Sodapop Patrick Curtis, if you hurt his girl, I’m gonna-”

“It wasn’t Soda.” You blurted. You crossed your arms over your chest and stared down at the floor. “It’s my dad. He’s come to take me back to Chicago.” You jerked your chin up, trying to look tougher than you felt. “But I’m not gonna let him.” 

“I thought they let Beth bring you here.” Darry closed the window and grabbed you a blanket from the bed. It was then that you realized you must have climbed into Darry’s room. There was a pair of work boots on the floor and an old, beat-up football on the shelf. 

“They did.” You glowered. Soda gently wrapped the blanket around your shoulders. “Guess they missed having something to scream at besides each other.”

“Well you can just stay here til he goes away, right Darry?” Soda said, not losing his sunny optimism for a second. Before Darry could respond, a series of loud bangs came from the front door. 

“I know she’s in there you little punks!”

“Oh god, it’s him.” You hid yourself in Soda’s embrace and Darry went to answer the door. 

“Come out now you-” Your father’s shouting stopped abruptly. Darry, though half his age, towered over him. He didn’t look so confident anymore. “Where’s my girl.”

You held Soda tighter. Your old man must have really hurt you because Soda knew you were one tough girl. You stood up to Dallas. 

“You need to leave.” You could just see through to the living room since Darry’s bedroom door was slightly open. Darry was fully blocking your father’s view of the house.

“I’m not leaving without that little brat.” He snarled, his cockiness returning. “An’ if you don’t bring her out here, I’ll call the cops. That wouldn’t end too well for you, would it son?”

“I said leave.” Darry growled again, his muscles tensing. You knew what could happen if the cops came. So you broke away from Soda.  

“I’m right here, so you can leave these boys alone.” You snapped, stepping out before Darry or Soda could grab you. 

“Thought you could run around with these bums and I wouldn’t come for you?”

“How did you even know where to find me?”

“Those brats of Beth’s started hollarin’ as soon as I raised a hand at her.” He smiled cruelly. 

If you hadn’t been standing there, Darry would have slugged him. You just wanted to get this over with. 

“Are we going or not?” You frowned, defeated. 

“Y/N, you can’t go with him!” Soda cried, trying to reach for you, but you jerked away. Tears pricked at your eyes again. 

“I have to, Sodapop.” 

“I don’t think so.” A new, hard voice joined the scene. You looked over your dad’s shoulder and saw the rest of the boys circling the house; Two-Big, Steve, Johnny, Ponyboy, and Dallas. Dally was the one talking. “You know something, fellas? I don’t like old me. And I really don’t like old, stinkin’ drunk men hanging around my neighborhood. Especially one that yells in my buddy’s face.”

“I ain’t afraid of a bunch of rats from Oklahoma.” Your father spat, but you could tell he was a little shaken. Dally pulled out a blade. 

“How about a New York rat?” He hissed, getting real close to his face. Your dad’s eyes went wide, shifting from the blade to the circle of tough looking boys around him. Then he looked at you. 

“You ain’t worth the trouble.” He decided, carefully moving around Dally and walking into the night.

The whole group gathered around, hollering and cheering over their success. Soda pulled you into a tight hug and kissed you right there in front of everybody. One of them, probably Two-Bit, whistled. 

“Ponyboy, where the hell have you been?” Darry asked, ruffling his youngest brother’s hair. Pony just shrugged. 

“I saw that mean old guy standing out here, so I ran and got Johnny and then we got everybody else.”

You pulled away from Soda and glanced around at the other boys. 

“You all came here… for me?” You gasped, a different kind of tears now welling in your eyes. 

“As soon as I heard Soda’s girl was in trouble, I got the hell over here.” Two-Bit said and Steve nodded in agreement. You felt your heart swell. Soda’s girl. 

You looked at Dally. Without him, it might not have worked. He just shrugged coolly and lit a cigarette. 

“I had nothin’ better to do.” But you could tell that, underneath, it was more than that. Johnny gave you a small smile. 

“You’re one of us now.” 

“And we stick together.” Ponyboy added. And they were right. 

“Alright, I’d better call Beth and tell her everything is gonna be fine.” Darry announced. “You all get in here. I’m sure we’ve got more chocolate cake somewhere.” This was followed by more cheers and stampeding feet as the gang rushed inside. 

Sodapop gave you the biggest, bright smile yet, taking your hand and following the boys to the kitchen. 

Neverland is home, to Lost Boys like me

And Lost Boys like me are free.

-

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination;  @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks

[bechloeislegit]

25 Days of BeChloe Christmases - 2020

Day 2 - Making Breakfast

Prompt from FanFiction User electroniszappa: The full prompt is noted at the end because I don't want to give anything away. NOTE: I didn't follow the prompt exactly, but I hope you like what I did with it.

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

The Bellas were in the Bellas House when Chloe came in, talking on the phone.

"I don't know, mom," Chloe said. "I'll let you know as soon as I decide. I'll call you later."

Chloe ended the call and ran a hand through her hair. She let out a heavy sigh as she shoved her phone into her back pocket.

"Everything okay, Chloe?" Beca asked.

"No," Chloe said sadly.

"What's wrong?" Beca asked, getting up from her seat and walking over to the redhead.

"My parents are getting a divorce," Chloe said. "And they're both trying to get me to spend Christmas with them. They want me to choose between them. God, I hate this."

Beca, in an uncharacteristic move, pulled Chloe into a hug. "As a daughter of divorced parents, I know how you feel."

"Is it always like this?" Chloe asked, falling into the hug and pulling Beca closer.

"I would say it gets better as you get older," Beca said with a grin. "But you're already old, so I can't help you there."

"Beca!" Aubrey chastised.

Chloe pulled back from Beca and slapped her arm. "I'm not that old."

The other girls chuckled.

"You have to remember, I was only five when my folks divorced," Beca said. "And my dad didn't care about seeing me until I graduated from High School. At least your folks still want to be around you."

"What are you going to do, Chloe?" Stacie asked.

"I don't know," Chloe said. "My mom is going to my Aunt Sarah's in Savannah. I haven't seen her or my Uncle John in years. My dad is staying in Tampa and spending Christmas with my grandparents."

"Which one would you rather visit?" Beca asked.

"Neither, really," Chloe said. "My Aunt Sarah is very anti-LGBTQ and since my mom told her I was bi, she's given me the cold shoulder. My dad's parents are very conservative and would be worse. So, it wouldn't be any fun for me in either situation."

"You can hang out here with me and Beca," Stacie said. "My folks are doing their Doctors Without Borders work. And, my sister lives in L.A. and is spending Christmas with her in-laws. So, there's no one for me to spend Christmas with."

"And I can't afford a ticket to Oregon to see my mom," Beca said. "And my dad and Sheila will be going to the stepmonster's sister's house in New Orleans."

"Unbelievable!" CR practically yelled as she stomped down the stairs.

"What's up, CR?" Chloe asked when CR reached them.

"My family doesn't want me to come home for the break," CR said. "Apparently, my great-grandma is going to be there and they don't want to upset her by having their gay daughter around. She's ninety-seven, homophobic, and as mean as they come. So, I'm dodging a bullet if I don't go home; but it hurts that I won't get to see my family for Christmas."

"Jessica and I aren't going home either," Ashley added. "Like Beca, neither of us can afford it. And our folks don't have the money to help us."

"I have a great idea," Aubrey said. "You should all come with me. My folks are going on a cruise with both sets of my grandparents. So, I'm going to spend the holiday in our cabin in Upstate New York. If you all come I won't have to spend Christmas alone. It could be fun."

"Aubrey," Beca said. "We all just said we can't afford to go home. How are we going to afford to go to New York?"

"We can take the Bellas bus," Aubrey said. "That way we'll have room for everyone. I'll cancel my plane ticket and use that money to pay for the gas."

"Driving will take like fourteen to sixteen hours," Stacie said.

"We can take turns and share the driving," Aubrey said. "And we can save money by packing food and drinks for the drive, so we won't have to stop at restaurants to eat. I'll have the lodge's caretaker stock the refrigerator and pantry with plenty of food and drinks so none of us have to worry about spending much once we get there."

"I'm in," Chloe said enthusiastically.

"Me, too," Jessica said, nodding her head.

"Thanks, Aubrey," Stacie said. "Count me in, too."

"Me, too," Ashley said.

"I'll go," CR chimed in.

"What about you, Beca?" Chloe asked. "Are you coming with or staying here by yourself?"

Beca thought for a moment, looked at CR, and asked, "CR, didn't Denise say she wasn't going home either?"

"That's true," CR said. "I'll stay behind so Denise isn't alone."

"She's welcome to join us," Aubrey said. "We can ask her when she gets back from class."

"If Denise says yes," CR said. "I'll go, too. I just don't want to leave her here alone for Christmas."

"Same here," Beca said.

"That's sweet of you two," Chloe said, hugging Beca.

"Whatever," Beca mumbled.

"I really hope you go to New York with us," Chloe whispered to Beca before ending the hug.

~~ Day 2 of the 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases - 2020 ~~

After some last-minute shopping for coats and warmer clothes, the girls were on their way. CR took the first driving shift. Each of the girls took a two-hour shift of driving ending with Aubrey, who took over just as it started snowing.

"We're here!" Aubrey called out as she pulled into a long driveway.

The tires made a crunching sound as the bus moved through the light covering of snow that had covered the drive.

"Wow!" Beca exclaimed as the cabin came into sight. "This place is awesome!"

The rest of the Bellas agreed and started gathering their belongings.

"Hopefully, it will snow again while we're here," Aubrey said, as she exited the bus. "It's even more impressive with snow all around."

"Brrr," Beca said as she stepped off the bus. "It's really cold."

"We're right on Lake Ontario," Aubrey said. "The northern winds coming down across the lake makes it feel colder. It's late. Let's get inside and figure out who's sleeping where. There are only four bedrooms so we'll have to share."

"I'll room with Beca," Chloe quickly called out, causing Beca to blush.

"Denise and I are roommates already," CR said. "So, it makes sense for us to share."

"Jessica and I can share," Ashley said. "If that's okay with her?"

"I'm good with that," Jessica said.

"Awesome!" Stacie exclaimed, winking at Aubrey. "That means I get to share with Aubrey."

Aubrey opened the door and ushered the Bellas inside.

"Wow!" The Bellas exclaimed as they entered.

Everyone looked around wide-eyed at the Christmas decorations.

"Ooo, a fireplace," Stacie said, winking at Aubrey. "How romantic. I can picture us now, snuggled up together with a cup of hot chocolate, whispering sweet nothings into each other's ear."

"Take it down a notch, Stacie," CR said. "I think you're embarrassing Aubrey."

"I, I'm not embarrassed," Aubrey said, her cheeks pink.

"Beca," Chloe said as she stood next to her. "Why don't we go pick out our room?"

"Why don't we all pick out our rooms?" Aubrey said. "Follow me."

The girls grabbed their bags and followed Aubrey upstairs.

~~ Day 2 of the 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases - 2020 ~~

After the rooms were assigned, the girls were tired from the long road trip and decided to turn in. Chloe walked back into the room after using the bathroom and saw Beca standing in front of the window, staring out into the night.

"Whatcha thinking about so hard over there, Becs?"

Beca looked over her shoulder and said, "Not thinking, just watching the snow falling."

"It's snowing again?" Chloe squealed and ran to stand next to Beca. She stared out the window and whispered, "It's beautiful!"

Beca just looked at Chloe and smiled. "Yes, it is."

Next door, Aubrey and Stacie were laying in bed, quietly chatting. They heard Chloe's squeal and raised their heads to look at the wall separating the two rooms.

Stacie chuckled as she said, "I gather from that squeal either Beca finally told Chloe she likes her, or. . ."

"Chloe saw that it was snowing again," Aubrey finished the sentence with a laugh.

"It is?" Stacie asked, turning to look out their window.

"Yep," Aubrey said. "According to the latest weather report, we'll get several more inches by morning."

Across the hall, CR and Denise were also looking out the window at the snow.

"It's so quiet," Denise whispered.

"I love the snow," CR said. "Looks like we'll be having a White Christmas."

Next door to CR and Denise, Ashley and Jessica were snuggled up together, fast asleep.

"We should go to bed," Chloe finally said after watching the snow for a few minutes.

Beca nodded and turned toward their beds. She climbed under the covers and turned off the lamp on the nightstand between her bed and Chloe's.

"Goodnight, Chlo," Beca said.

"Goodnight, Becs," Chloe replied.

The two fell asleep within minutes.

Stacie and Aubrey continued talking about the snow and having a White Christmas.

"I always loved when we'd have a White Christmas," Stacie said. "Sledding down the hill by our house, snowball fights. One time my sister and I built a snow fort. We always had a blast together."

Hearing the wistfulness in Stacie's voice, Aubrey looked over at her.

"You miss her," Aubrey said.

"Yes, I do," Stacie said, snuggling into Aubrey. "She's five years older than I am and moved to California for college and made a life for herself there. I haven't seen her since she graduated. That was three years ago."

CR and Denise continued to watch the snowfall.

"I've never had a white Christmas," Denise said. "This will be my first."

"We'll definitely have to have a snowball fight," CR said with a big grin. "It's kind of the law when it snows."

"I can't wait," Denise said, causing CR to chuckle.

"I'm going to turn in," CR said as she made her way to her bed. "It's late and I have a feeling Aubrey will have us up at the crack of dawn."

Denise climbed into her bed and turned to face CR. "I have a feeling Stacie will keep her busy until a suitable hour."

"Stacie and Aubrey?" CR asked. "You really think there's something between them?"

"Yes," Denise said, covering a yawn with the back of her hand. "Don't you?"

"I really hadn't noticed anything," CR said. "They're not as obvious as Beca and Chloe."

"You mean as oblivious as Beca and Chloe," Denise responded with a light chuckle.

CR chuckled and settled under her blankets.

"Hey, Denise?" CR said a few minutes later. "Are you still awake?"

"Barely," Denise mumbled. "What's up?"

"I was wondering if, once we get back to Barden, you would maybe want to go out with me sometime?"

Denise sat up and switched on the bedside lamp; she looked over at CR.

"You're asking me out?" Denise asked, smiling.

"Um, yeah?" CR said. "It's just, I really like you and I'm hoping you might feel the same way."

"I do like you," Denise said. "And I would love to go out with you."

"Yes!" CR yelled.

"What the Hell?" Beca called out as she sat upright in her bed.

"That sounded like CR," Chloe said, reaching to turn on the lamp.

"Let's check on her," Beca said, climbing out of bed.

Chloe did the same and was surprised to see Stacie and Aubrey coming out of their room as well.

"Was that CR?" Aubrey asked.

"It sounded like her," Chloe said. "Do you think we should check on her?"

"I don't know," Stacie said. "We may walk into something we don't want to see."

"What do you mean?" Beca asked, furrowing her brow.

"CR and Denise may be hooking up," Stacie said, chuckling when Beca's face reddened.

"Really?" Aubrey asked.

"Yes, really," Chloe said. "Haven't you seen the way those two look at each other? I guess one of them finally said something."

The four Bellas heard moans through the door. Beca's eyes widened and she looked around at the other three. Chloe and Stacie were smirking and nodding their heads. Aubrey's face was flushed.

"I'm going back to bed," Beca said, throwing a thumb over her shoulder at her room.

"Me, too," Aubrey said, turning and going into her room.

Beca turned and entered her room; Chloe and Stacie looked at each other and laughed.

"Goodnight, Stacie," Chloe said as she went to her room.

"Goodnight, Chloe," Stacie said.

~~ Day 2 of the 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases - 2020 ~~

"Good morning, sweetie," Jessica said, kissing Ashley awake.

"Mmm, good morning," Ashley said, stretching and leaning into the kisses.

After a brief make-out, Ashley pulled back and looked at Jessica.

"I want to tell the girls about us," she said. "I want to be able to kiss you and hold your hand in front of everyone."

"Okay," Jessica said. "I'd love for them to know about us."

"Let's go make breakfast for everyone," Ashley said, reluctantly letting go of Jessica so she could slide out of bed.

"That's a great idea," Jessica said. "Let's go."

The two girls left their room and quietly made their way downstairs.

An hour later, Stacie woke to the smell of bacon.

"Mmmm, someone's making breakfast," Stacie mumbled, reaching for Aubrey.

Aubrey was not in the bed. Stacie sat up and looked around to see Aubrey standing by the window. She got up and padded over to Aubrey, putting her arms around Aubrey's waist.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"Are you regretting last night?"

"God, no," Aubrey answered quickly, turning to face Stacie. "It was one of the best nights of my life."

Stacie leaned in and kissed Aubrey; Aubrey quickly returned the kiss, pulling Stacie closer to deepen it. Stacie pulled back so their lips were barely touching.

"As much as I'd like to continue this," Stacie whispered against Aubrey's lips. "I smell bacon and I've worked up quite an appetite. Let's go eat."

Stacie reconnected their lips before Aubrey could say anything.

"Mmm," Aubrey whimpered, pulling back from the kiss. "Let's go see what's for breakfast."

Stacie sighed and took Aubrey's hand, leading her out of their room and downstairs. The couple walked into the kitchen to find Jessica and Ashley kissing.

Aubrey cleared her throat, causing the two to jump apart.

"Um, sorry," Ashley said. "We were just making breakfast."

"Yeah," Jessica said, blushing. "Breakfast. We were making breakfast."

"If that's what you're calling it," Stacie said with a smirk. "Then Brey and I made breakfast last night."

Jessica and Ashley's jaws dropped; Aubrey blushed; and Stacie looked very pleased with herself.

"You two?" Ashley asked, pointing between Stacie and Aubrey.

"Yep!" Stacie answered. "How long have you two been, um, making breakfast?"

"Since a month after we started rooming together in the Bellas house," Jessica said. "We both liked each other and, finally, one drunken night we confessed our feelings."

"Maybe we should get Beca drunk," Stacie said, looking at Aubrey. "And get her to confess to Chloe."

"Those two are so oblivious," Ashley said. "It may take more than getting Beca drunk."

"I have an idea," Aubrey said. "It's the perfect plan. By the time Christmas is over, those two will have what we all have."

"We're listening," Jessica and Ashley said and then giggled.

"Okay," Aubrey said, leaning in conspiratorially. "Here's what we're going to do."

Just then, CR and Denise entered the kitchen.

"We smelled something burning," CR said, causing the four girls to jump back.

"Oh, crap," Jessica said, grabbing the potholders. "The bacon."

She pulled two pans out of the oven and dropped them on top of the stove.

"It doesn't look too bad," Ashley said, looking over the pan of dark bacon.

"It's ruined," Jessica said, huffing out a breath.

"It's fine," Denise said. "I like it dark."

"When it comes to bacon," Stacie said. "Crispy is always better."

"They're right," Aubrey chimed in. "What else are you making?"

"We were planning on just bacon and scrambled eggs," Jessica said.

"And, toast," Ashley said. "Aubrey, where's your toaster?"

Aubrey didn't respond verbally, she walked over to the pantry and brought out a toaster.

"Here you go."

"Thanks!" Ashley said and set the toaster up.

CR handed Ashley a loaf of bread as Denise got butter from the refrigerator.

"Who wants coffee?" Stacie asked, holding up the coffee pot.

"I do," rang out from the five Bellas.

~~ Day 2 of the 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases - 2020 ~~

"Chloe?" Beca mumbled as she woke with Chloe wrapped around her. "What are you doing?"

"I got cold," Chloe said.

"And you couldn't find the blanket that was at the foot of your bed?"

"Didn't even try," Chloe said, giving Beca a wink. "This was way warmer and more fun for me."

"You're ridiculous."

"You loved it," Chloe said. "You even sighed when I started spooning you."

"I did not!" Beca whispered-shouted as she sat up to look down at Chloe. She glanced up and shouted, "Oh, my God!"

"What?" Chloe asked, concerned.

"Look," Beca said, climbing over Chloe to get out of the bed.

Beca hurried over to the window and stood looking out at the snow. "There must be a good eight to ten inches of snow out there, and it's still coming down."

Chloe squealed as she stood next to Beca, and looked out the window at the snow.

"We have to get dressed so we can go out and build a snowman," Chloe said, pulling Beca back toward the bed.

"Why?" Beca whined.

"Because it snowed," Chloe said. "It's like a law or something."

"There's a law that says you have to build a snowman when it snows?"

"I'm sure there is a law about it somewhere."

"God, you're adorable," Beca said, and blushed as she added, "I can't believe I just said that out loud."

"Thanks!" Chloe said, smiling at Beca as she kissed her on the cheek.

"I smell burned bacon," Beca blurted out. "Let's go eat before we go outside."

Chloe laughed as her stomach made a growling sound. "I'm in."

The two left their room and could hear laughing and talking as they made their way to the kitchen.

"Coffee, please?" Beca said as soon as she stepped into the kitchen.

Stacie laughed and pointed over to the coffee pot. "I just made a fresh pot."

"Good morning, everyone," Chloe said, entering behind Beca. "How'd everyone sleep?"

The six girls said 'good morning' to Chloe as they sipped their coffees and looked at each other.

"We slept great!" Stacie said, smirking. "Making breakfast with Aubrey was a dream come true."

Aubrey blushed; Jessica nearly spits out her coffee; Ashley started laughing. CR and Denise looked confused.

"I thought Ashley and Jessica made breakfast," CR said.

"They did, too," Stacie said.

"What?" Beca asked, confused. "Wait, is that one of your euphemisms for sex? It's too early to hear about your sexploits, Stacie. I haven't even had my coffee for God's sake."

"It's not too early for me," Chloe said, winking at Stacie. "Spill!"

"Chloe!" Aubrey yelled, turning to glare at Stacie, she added, "Don't you dare!"

"Oh, my God," Beca said, laughing. "You two DID hook up last night. I guess hearing Denise and CR going at it, got you motor running, huh?"

"What?!" CR asked.

"Um, sorry," Beca said, flustered. "We, uh, heard you yell, and, um, got up to check to, uh, see if you were okay."

"And, then we heard moaning coming from your room," Stacie added. "Kudos to you both by the way."

"CR confessed she liked me and asked me out," Denise said. "I kissed her and one thing led to another and we, uh, made breakfast." She smiled and added, "Several times."

Stacie whooped and high-fived Denise. CR smiled and kissed Denise. "I guess the cat's out of the bag."

"Don't you mean the pu-"

"Do not finish that sentence!" Aubrey said, covering Stacie's mouth. "Okay, so a few of us hooked up last night. Is anyone really surprised?"

"I am," Beca said. "I always thought Jessica and Ashley were a thing. You and Stacie, and CR and Denise are more of a surprise. I did not see that coming."

"Chloe?" Stacie said, causing Chloe to look at her. "Got anything to confess?"

Chloe blushed and shook her head as she whispered, "No."

"What would she be confessing?" Beca asked. Her eyes went wide. "You think that we? That Chloe and I? Why would you think that we would do that?"

Chloe turned and ran out of the kitchen. It was a few seconds later when they heard a bedroom door slam.

Everyone turned to look at Beca. "What?"

"Way to go, Mitchell," Aubrey said, glaring at Beca. "I'm going to check on Chloe." She moved to follow after Chloe, stopping in front of Beca. "You'd better be prepared to grovel and beg Chloe for her forgiveness when I bring her back down here."

"What do I have to apologize for?" Beca asked.

"Think about it," Aubrey snapped. "I'm sure even someone as emotionally stunted as you can figure it out."

Aubrey left the kitchen, leaving the other girls staring at Beca, shaking their heads.

~~ Day 2 of the 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases - 2020 ~~

The girls sat down to eat, saving a plate for Aubrey and Chloe. The two best friends were still upstairs forty-five minutes later when the others finished eating and cleaning the kitchen.

"Should we go check on them?" Beca asked, looking toward the stairs.

"Are you ready to apologize to Chloe?" Stacie asked.

"Why?" Beca asked. "What do I have to apologize for because I haven't got a clue."

"You hurt Chloe's feelings, Beca," Jessica explained.

"I did?" Beca asked surprised. "How?"

"Think about what you said when we were talking about everyone making breakfast," Ashley said.

"Yeah, Beca," Denise said. "You acted like being with Chloe was the worst thing that could happen. We all thought you liked her."

"She's my best friend," Beca said. "Of course, I like her."

"That's not what she means," Stacie said. "And you know it."

Beca let out a heavy sigh as she ran a hand through her hair. "Do you think Chloe wanted to, you know, make breakfast. . .with me?"

"YES!" All the girls shouted.

"Beca," Stacie said. "We've all seen the way you two look at each other."

"I don't look at Chloe in any particular way," Beca said quietly.

"Yes, you do," Stacie said. "And Chloe's seen you looking at her. You may be oblivious to Chloe looking at you, but you aren't very discreet in the way you look at her."

"How do I tell her?" Beca asked. "I don't want to chase her away. I like having her around."

"Just tell her, Beca," Denise said. "That's what CR did and look at us now. We're going to start dating."

"But, you two already, um, made breakfast together," Beca said. "I don't know if I can do that without dating Chloe first."

"Then date her first," Ashley said. "Making breakfast will come in your own time."

"Can we please stop calling it making breakfast?" Beca asked, causing the girls to laugh.

~~ Day 2 of the 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases - 2020 ~~

It took quite a while before Chloe and Aubrey came downstairs, dressed to go outside.

"Where are you two going?" Denise asked.

"We're going to build a snowman before we start making dinner," Aubrey replied. "Anyone care to join us?"

The girls all agreed and ran upstairs to change. Everyone except for Beca was back downstairs about twenty minutes later.

"Where's Beca?" CR asked.

"I'll get her," Stacie said and ran back upstairs.

Stacie barged into Beca's room without knocking. Beca jumped and looked at Stacie in the doorway.

"Let's go, Beca," Stacie said. "Everyone's waiting for you."

"I'm not going," Beca said.

"Come on, Beca," Stacie implored. "It won't be the same without all of us out there."

"Could you ask Chloe to come up here?" Beca asked. "I'd like to talk to her so I can apologize for earlier."

"I'll send her up," Stacie said with a smile. "Good luck."

"Thanks," Beca said, smiling back at Stacie.

Chloe appeared in the doorway about ten minutes later.

"You wanted to talk to me?"

"Yes, please come sit over here," Beca said, patting the space next to her on the bed.

Chloe took off her coat and gloves and sat down next to Beca.

"So?"

"So, um, I wanted to apologize for how I reacted earlier," Beca said.

"And?"

"And, I hope you can forgive me?"

"What would be so wrong about you and me being together?" Chloe asked.

"Oh, you're going for the tough questions first," Beca said, wiping her hands up and down her thighs. "Um, okay."

"Well?"

"Um, nothing?" Beca said. Hearing Chloe scoff, Beca turned to face her, taking both of Chloe's hands in hers.

"Look," Beca said, staring into Chloe's eyes. "I know you want to know how I feel, but I'm not good with sharing my emotions, so bear with me, please?"

"Okay," Chloe said.

Beca nodded her head and cleared her throat. "I let you hug me and that's something I don't let just anybody do. I always bring an extra water bottle to practice because you forget yours. . . a lot. I watch movies with you even though we both know I don't really like them."

"What are you trying to say?" Chloe asked.

"I'm trying to tell you that I, um-" Beca said and stopped for a moment before continuing. "Let me try this. Some people can have feelings for someone, but never say it; some people can say it but don't feel it. Do you know what I mean?"

Chloe nodded her head. "I think I know what you're trying to say. But I want you to say it and mean it before you actually say it, okay?"

Beca opened her mouth but nothing came out. She tried again with the same result.

"Dammit," Beca muttered, dropping Chloe's hands. "I'm making this worse aren't I?"

"Take a breath, Becs," Chloe said, taking Beca's hands in hers. "And come find me when you're ready. I won't be hard to find. There's like a foot of snow outside."

"Okay," Beca said. She scrunched her face and looked at Chloe. "Are you mad?"

"No," Chloe said and sighed. "Let's go build a snowman. Then we can help with Christmas Eve dinner."

"Okay," Beca said.

~~ Day 2 of the 25 Days of BeChloe Christmases - 2020 ~~

The next morning, Beca woke and looked over at the other bed expecting to see Chloe; she wasn't there. Beca sat up and looked around.

"I wonder where she is?" Beca mumbled as she got out of bed. It was Christmas morning and by now she usually has Chloe hopping up and down on the bed waking her up.

Beca huffed and left the bedroom. She could hear the others downstairs so she made her way down. When she reached the bottom of the stairs she saw Denise sitting on CR's lap in the chair with their backs to Beca; Aubrey and Stacie were huddled together on one end of the sofa; Jessica and Ashley were sitting together on the floor in front of the fire. They were all sipping from cups; it was either coffee or, knowing Chloe, hot cocoa. She looked around the living room but didn't see Chloe anywhere.

"It's about time you woke up, Beca," Chloe's voice came from the kitchen door, causing Beca to jump. "We've been waiting for you so we could open presents."

"Why didn't you wake me like you usually do?"

"I heard you tossing and turning all night," Chloe said. "So, I thought I'd let you sleep in a bit. And, btw, me keeping everyone from bothering you is one of your presents. Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas, Beca!" the other Bellas shouted out.

"Um, thanks," Beca said. "Merry Christmas."

She followed Chloe over to the sofa and sat next to her.

"Sorry, everyone," Beca said. "You could have started without me."

"We wanted to," Stacie said. "Chloe wouldn't let us."

"Thanks, Chlo," Beca said, smiling at Chloe.

"Let's get to the presents," Aubrey said. "My breakfast casserole should be ready in about forty-five minutes."

"Okay," Stacie said, sitting up. "Who's first?"

"Um, if you don't mind can I give Chloe one of my gifts first?" Beca asked. "I don't want to wait any longer to give it to her. She's waited long enough for it."

The girls looked at each other. Chloe looked at Beca with raised eyebrows.

"Go ahead, Beca," Stacie said, sitting back to cuddle Aubrey.

"Okay," Beca said, clearing her throat. "Chloe, I love you!"

The girls and Chloe gasp; shocked that Beca would just blurt it out like that.

"I love you and I have for a while now," Beca continued. "I want you to know I'm not just saying it, I mean it, too!"

A big smile came to Chloe's face as she jumped up and crashed her lips against Beca's. The girls started cheering and clapping.

"I love you, too, Beca," Chloe said as the cheering died down. "Merry Christmas to me!"

"Merry Christmas to us," Beca said, leaning in for another kiss.

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

Full prompt from FanFiction User electroniszappa: Hey, I don't know if you're planning to do a 25 Days of BeChloe Christmas or anything like it this year, if you are, while it's on my mind, want to send in the prompt that crossed my mind. It's nothing too complex, was thinking during their first year, the Bellas get snowed in at Aubrey's Family's cabin over the holiday break, and it serves to get the couples (BeChloe, Staubrey, Jessica/Ashley, and CR/Denise) together in time for Christmas.

[flame-shadow]

Thoughts on areas like the Soul Sanctum, Deepnest, or the Mantis's area?

(My brain doesn't wish to cooperate with the name)

you’re going to get all three because two of those areas are faves of mine and the last one has one of my fave boss fights :3c

[i don’t have the wiki pulled up or anything so obligatory disclaimer that i might misremember some things. also, im gonna throw all of this under the cut because this is going to be more of a stream of consciousness than an actually coherent thing]

SOUL SANCTUM

let’s just get this out of the way first - love love love love love the music holy shit. it’s not something i’d listen to when i want to chill out, but oooohhhhh those organs. and when the whispers are in there too?? and “Mage Under Glass” with the laughter??? yesss

Anyway. In general, I’m a sucker for unethical laboratories in stories and games. There’s so much potential for fucked up and creative ideas within canon and in the fan characters/interpretations (I’m looking at you, Fraught. i love you, you fucked up spider <3). 

How do you get soul? you harvest it. and you get on the king’s bad side in the process of course. and the watcher’s too, im sure. lurien’s like, ‘hey wtf those bugs are citizens under my watch. stop it’ and ‘well fuck you, im gonna point my telescope right into your office window, you soul bastard. i can read all the notes on your fucked up experiments now. whatcha gonna do now?’

How unethical were the experiments before the radiance’s insidious presence became a factor? Even if the Sanctum started as a safe place of learning, I think it wouldn’t have taken long for at least some of the bugs to start doing questionable things. Not everyone needs a moth to nudge them to cross the ethics line. But when the soul master changed course, set the scholars to study immortality, what did they focus on? improving the body so it won’t slow and cease its function as time passes? prolonging the stability of the mind so age doesn’t corrupt memories or cognition? focusing on a bug’s own soul to do something that way? any combination of this could fuck up the stability of the mind and/or body of the subjects. That’s where we get the mistakes/follies, right? too much soul for some that cause melting pretty quickly. for others that don’t have a negative reaction right away, maybe a dependency on soul is built up and must be maintained to stave off negative effects of withdrawal, then of course there’s a shortage. you can’t harvest bodies forever. maybe the souls of the infected bugs aren’t viable, maybe the infection taints them, spreads the infection to whatever bug absorbs it. there are options here.

There’s also the soul warriors. They have dream dialogue where they say something about not remembering how they have these moves or how to fight or something like that, right? so what if those bugs had souls of trained fighters like city sentries implanted in them? they suddenly have new instincts for situations that they themselves didn’t experience or train for. i kinda get neuromod vibes from this concept (from the game Prey). 

Also, the parallels between the soul master and the pale king are neat. they both have corpse pits. they both think they’re hot shit (and to be fair, they are both powerful even if they’re in different leagues). the radiance directly fucks with both of them. neither of them admit defeat in their final dream nail dialogue. (iirc, arty-cakes has made a similar observation about the parallels, but i noticed this long before they made their post. still, it’s a good observation)

uhhh okay i’ll stop there for the Sanctum

-

DEEPNEST

...skitter skitter skitter skitter...

i feel so sorry for anyone who has arachnophobia and couldn’t enjoy the game because of this area. that sucks. this is one of my fave areas specifically because of the skitters and clicks and snaps and wibbly music/sound effects that occasionally made my skin crawl. 

im a fan of spiders and centipedes, and deepnest delivered! 

i have a lot of headcanon stuff for deepnest society and beasts that has little to do with the game or established lore, so i’ll leave that for another time. But for more game-related stuff, let’s see...

i think nosks and corpse creepers and grub mimics, if not different life stages of the same species, are at least related. like how wild cats and cheetahs and panthers are related but not the same. nosks have the most developed shape shifting capabilities, and they have a sort of pocket dimension that they can fold their body into so they can fit into smaller disguises (how else do you explain how large the infected nosk actually is compared to the much smaller knight that it ran around as to lure the player in? magical dimension powers is what i’ve decided)

the weaver’s den showed much more development of architecture. more metal and arches and stuff. i can’t recall to what extent the basic shapes and materials reflect parts of hallownest, but i think that place was a more recent development compared to the rest of the Beasts’ infrastructure.

PK reeeaaallllyyyyy wanted to get a tram all the way across deepnest, didn’t he? we get one tram to the eastern edge which conveniently takes riders to the ancient basin below where most of hallownest’s citizens are. but then the failed tramway that heads for the distant village. could it have been one of the lesser conditions of herrah’s and pk’s agreement? but herrah would be asleep so she wouldn’t need the tram to visit the palace or have hornet visit her. but why else would a tram be intended to cross to there? idk that one doesn’t make much sense to me. maybe i’m forgetting a detail, but whatever.

deepnest is a horrible maze that i will continue to get lost in.

[bonus - okay i’ll share this:  one of the made-up swears i use for my beast character is “writhing mass” in reference to the skittering, scuttling pit of writhing things found as an area hazard in lieu of acid. like “bloody hell” or something haha. also it’s just fun to say.]

-

MANTIS VILLAGE

Alas, i don’t spend a whole lot of time in this area. I think the mantids are cool and honorable, and i apologize for my weaverlings attacking friendly mantids, but sometimes a little deepnest should be allowed to cause mayhem in the mantis village, okay?

mantis lords/sisters of battle are great boss fights. the choreography and smoothness and reflexes and aaaahhhh yeah

i seriously wonder what’s up with all the giant spikes though. like. not even deepnest has giga-spikes like that. ......actually. i wonder if those spikes are there in case the beasts overrun the village. they’d certainly be painful obstacles to beasts trying to climb out of the village and into the fungal wastes.

I think it would’ve been cool if there had been some bit of dialogue or a lore tablet that hinted at the mantis traitors. i know there’s the broken throne, but i didn’t notice that; it was pointed out to me after i’d already played once or twice through the game. don’t get me wrong- it’s a cool little thing to look back on and be like ‘i see what you did there’. environmental storytelling or whatever. but i’d like a little more anyway.

i wonder how the fungal folk feel about the mantids. i imagine they occupy their own sections of the fungal wastes and just mutually don’t bother each other. i wonder how diplomacy would work between a mantis of individual mind and a mushroom of shared consciousness? they make a nice contrast in a sharp and cutting/soft and bludgeoning way as well as a swift and silent/energetic and noisy way with how they attack and stuff.

okay that’s it. thanks for asking! if you read all of that, have a cookie

[kanri-tea]

Fem! Jakurai

A take on a female Jakurai in the world of Hypnosis Mic

"I don't know who you are, but thank you for rescuing us," Jakurai bowed, thanking their mysterious savior. Next to her, she hears Yotsutsuji's flustered thanks.

"T-thank you from me as well!"

"Haha! It was nothing! It's a pleasure to meetcha! ☆I'm Amemura Ramuda," the pink-haired boy cheerfully introduced himself, "And you're Jinguuji Jakurai and Yotsutsuji!"

"...How do you know our names?"

"Hmm~ How should I explain...? I'll tell you after you check on all those wounded folks! ☆"

Jakurai felt conflicted, on one hand, she definitely wanted to make sure none of them were seriously wounded, on the other, this Amemura Ramuda might actually prove to be dangerous to both her and Yotsutsuji. Taking a deep breath, she reasoned to herself that this wasn't the underworld, trust had to be given to be proved after all.

"May I ask you one thing, Amemura?"

"Whatcha got~?"

"...Will you teach me how to rap?"

"Sure thing! ☆ You're definitely going to be a great MC!"

"Aah.. but..."

"Hmm~?"

"Aren't MCs something that Chuouku assigned to men?"

"Ye~ah?"

"...Amemura, I'm a woman."

"...Eh?"

When she was in middle school, her school had sent her the wrong uniform, but she simply shrugged it off and requested for the right one.

When the military accidentally marked her off as the wrong gender, she simply sighed and had it fixed.

When the Party of Words took over the government, she took note of it and moved on, after all, it had nothing to do with her. So why exactly was she being pushed into all this Hypnosis Microphone nonsense? It was a men's only thing, wasn't it?!

Jakurai sighed, staring into the mirror as if it had all the answers to life.

Tall and slender (although leaning towards underweight), she felt that her body wasn't that bad. Cupping her breasts she wondered if maybe they were too small. Having a B cup wasn't too bad, Jakurai thought to herself.

Maybe it was because of her unnatural height, after all, how many other women could claim to be an amazing 195 cm?

Jakurai cursed her genetics once again for making her so tall and 'masculine.' When she had asked Ramuda to teach her how to rap, she hadn't thought too much of it, after all, hypnosis microphones were pretty common nowadays. It was always better to be safe then sorry.

Even when Ramuda knew of her past of being Ill-Doc, he somehow had still thought that she was a man. God, this was her curse in life, wasn't it? Cursed to be never be able to get a date and constantly be mistaken for a man.

"Sensei!"

"A-ah, I'll be out in a second, Ichiro!"

Curse Ramuda and his constant need for chaos. Curse Ichiro and his innocent puppy eyes that Jakurai refuses to admit to be weak to.

Sulking slightly, she started to put on one of the many dresses that Ramuda chose for her to try. Honestly, it wasn't a big deal that she rarely wore anything but her black turtleneck, jeans, and lab coat. They were comfortable and practical.

Of course, the others (*coughcough*Ramuda*coughcough*Ichiro*coughcough*) vehemently disagreed. Which then turned into a wardrobe overhaul and shopping trip in Shibuya of all things.

Resigning herself to playing dress-up doll for the next couple of hours, Jakurai stepped out of the dressing room.

"Ooh! Huh, I guess sensei really is a lady."

Jakurai felt the urge to slap someone over the head, namely Ichiro hard.

"...Excuse me."

Ichiro stuttered, backtracking and realizing what exactly he just said, "I- I mean, you usually don't, y'know, uhhh..."

As Ichiro descended into mumbles, Ramuda laughed, fully in his element of chaos and destruction.

At least one of us is having fun, Jakurai couldn't help but think uncharitably, feeling rather self-conscious. There was a good reason she rarely wore feminine clothing, and it wasn't just because it was difficult for her to find anything her size (though it played a large part of it.)

"It, uh, it looks good on you, sensei," she turns, startled, having forgotten about Samatoki.

He's blushing, which is, on one hand, is rather adorable, but on the other, she really hopes that he's blushing from embarrassment and not a crush.

"Thank you," Jakurai smiles slightly, wishing to be out of the dress and back into her usual outfit.

Was it too late to run away?

"So I guess we're a team."

"Yup~! ☆"

Jakurai tilted her head, a small smile on her lips. A team, huh. She supposed it was time to say goodbye to Kujaku Posse.

"It'll be us four against everyone else! We'll be the best!"

She listens to Ichiro's exuberant yelling and Samatoki's curses that follow soon after. Nearby, she watches Ramuda cheerfully egg on the two, mixing in his own brand of chaos and calamity into the fold.

Chuckling, a though pops into her head.

"We never did figure out if I was allowed to participate in the rap battles, did we, Ramuda?"

"No~pe!"

"Huh?"

"What are you talking about?"

Watching at the visible confusion on both Ichiro and Samatoki's faces, Jakurai sighed. Oh dear.

"I'm a woman, but the rap battles are a men's only event," she gently reminds the two, or rather inform them. Honestly, she might be extremely tall, but her voice and chest should've at least hinted that she wasn't a man.

Observing the startled faces of her new teammates, she wondered if she was going to have to wear a badge or something to indicate that, no, no she was not a man.

"EHHHHHH?!!"

If this was an indication of how this team was going to be, Jakurai thought to herself as Ramuda laughed himself silly, then God, please give me patience. A lot of patience.

"Ooh, is Jakurai going on a date? You look super pretty in that dress! ☆"

"Ah, well it's been a while," Jakurai hummed, "so I thought I'd put a little extra effort today."

Having styled her hair into a waterfall braid and applied a bit of makeup, Jakurai felt that she looked pretty good. Twirling around, she teasingly asked for Ramuda's approval.

"Definitely a ten out of ten~!"

Out of the corner of her eye, she spots Ichiro and Samatoki huddled together. Shaking her head, she laughs at Ramuda's praise and elects to ignore whatever Ichiro and Samatoki were planning. It probably wasn't going to be good for her stress levels anyways.

"Alright, I'm heading out now. Don't make a mess of my apartment, children," Jakurai calls out, receiving eye-rolls in return and mumbled promises of behaving.

Heading towards the cafe where her blind date was, Jakurai couldn't help but feel a bit suspicious. They're all adults, or well at least close to adults, she reasoned to herself. They're not going to do something stupid she hoped.

"Hi, you're Jakurai, right?"

Startled, Jakurai flinched, not having realized that she had already reached her destination. Politely smiling, she nodded her head towards the man.

"I apologize for not paying attention," she began, "Jinguuji Jakurai. It's nice to meet you."

Settling down, Jakurai felt that her date was probably going to be okay. Neither of them really had anything in common, but he wasn't a bad conversationalist.

"- pretty cool person, Jakurai. But, wow, I really didn't expect you to look so much like a man."

What.

"-and if you wore makeup and got bigger breasts, you'd look really hot, like model-levels of hot, y'know like-"

Jakurai felt her hands twitch. God, this was why she almost never went on dates, especially blind dates. Doing her best to be as polite as possible, she tried to excuse herself.

"Excuse me, I-"

"Oi."

Turning her head, she came face-to-face with Samatoki. Wait. Why was Samatoki here? And with Ichiro and Ramuda too, to boot. How did they even know where she was?

"Hi, sensei!"

"Jakurai! What a cool coincidence to see you~! ☆"

"Samatoki! Ichiro! Ramuda! What are you-"

Behind them, she hears her date spluttering indignantly. Good.

"He~ey, Jakurai, I saw this super duper cool candy store a couple of streets down," Ramuda giggles, it's not a nice one, Jakurai notes, and the gleam in his eyes as he pulls her away from the table is downright vicious.

"H-huh? Ramuda!"

"We're off~! ☆ Ichiro, Samatoki, have fun!"

"Yeah, yeah."

"See you later, sensei!"

Hesitantly, she glanced at her date who was currently trembling and sweating in fear, and then towards the rest of the TDD. Shaking her head, she let herself be pulled by Ramuda.

I can take care of myself, she wants to say, why are trying to protect me, she wants to ask.

Instead, she tosses out a "don't hurt him too much" before walking next to Ramuda.

She hears the screams of terror behind her and a part of her wants to go back, wants to help even the ones who desire to hurt her.

"Ne, Jakurai, you doctors are always helping so many people," she hears Ramuda humming, "but, y'know, sometimes doctors should let others help them too~!"

"...pfft-!"

She's crouching, Jakurai realizes halfheartedly, and her vision is blurred.

"Haha, Ramuda, what are you even talking about," she laughs as tears obscure her sight, "I'm not a damsel in distress."

"Nope! But it's nice to see you as a lady sometimes. You're much better than this annoying onee-san that calls me all the time!"

"...Better enough that you don't have to pretend with me?"

"Hmm~ Who knows!"

She feels Ramuda's arms around her shoulders. It's a comforting feeling, and she can't help but feel guilty. For her to feel happy while having so many sins still weighing upon her shoulders.

She hears footsteps approaching them and looks up to see Samatoki and Ichiro. They're sweaty and out of breath, but the bloodthirsty grins and bright eyes tell her everything she needs to know.

"Sensei!"

Around her are the TDD, and she can't help but feel content and happy. The dark feelings of self-doubt are clawing at her again. Was she allowed to be happy? After causing so much death, so much pain, was it okay for her to-

No.

Jakurai forces those feeling down, forces them into a box for now. Right now, she basks in the warmth that the others provide.

She can't help but love Ramuda, can't help but love Samatoki, can't help but love Ichiro. They're her precious boys, her friends.

It's a nice feeling.

Very few good things last, and the TDD ends up being one of the many that fail, and it h u r t s.

It's been several months since Yotsutsuji fell into a coma, several months since that fateful email.

Suddenly, Jakurai couldn't help but feel all her thirty-something years weighing down on her shoulders. God, she was getting old.

I guess, she bitterly thinks, I was simply the fool for believing that we would last.

Nothing ever lasted. Not family. Not Hitoya. Not even the TDD.

Pulling herself together, she prepared to close her clinic for the night. It was getting late after all.

Knock. Knock.

Who-?

"Samatoki?"

"Hey, sorry to bother," she watches Samatoki stumble into her clinic, his shirt red with blood.

Body on autopilot, she tends to his injuries. The silence between them is oppressing. What was there to say, she wondered, but a small part of her was glad that even though they've all gone their separate ways, Samatoki still trusts her to treat his injuries.

"...Thanks."

She smiles, it's not quite as warm and as fond as it used to be, but she manages. She asks how he's doing, how Nemu is, asks him to take care, to not aggravate his injuries.

Samatoki grunts and shrugs off her questions, is ready to leave before she hears a soft, "Do you regret it?"

I don't know, she thinks; yes, she wants to say.

Instead, she tells a half-truth, half-lie.

"No, our time in the TDD means a lot to me, but I believe it is time for us to move on."

She sees the hurt that roles off of Samatoki in waves, sees how badly the younger man is taking the separation and a large part of her wants to hug him, to tell him that everything will be okay even if she doesn't believe it.

When he leaves, Jakurai can't help but think of Yotsutsuji and his discovery that made Ramuda want him dead, can't help but think of Ichiro and his resolve to raise his siblings himself, can't help but think of Ramuda and what they had.

Can't help but think of what-ifs.

In another life, would things have turned out differently?

[adhdeancas]

Sunset Sound: God is Dead?

I might start updating twice a week because I am writing this story at BREAKNECK speed. this is my favorite chapter so far. enjoy! (special thanks to @friedchickenangelwings once again for sticking with me and my incessant rambling about this story at all hours during holidays)

Fic Summary:  Everything is the same up to the end of 15x20. Chuck has been “defeated,” but it was all a farce. When Jack absorbed Chuck, Chuck easily took over the 3 year old’s body and acted as if he were defeated. Chuck!Jack then had the Rusty Nail placed in the barn where Dean died, and with Cas gone, Dean didn’t fight it. Chuck did reimagine Heaven, but he’s fed the same lie to them all: that everything is perfect, they are free, they are in real paradise. Except it’s all an illusion insulated by blue skies and endless horizons. Because, just like the Good Place, people make Heaven into Hell for each other. And there’s nothing Chuck loves more than the natural order of tragedy. He “let it slip” to Bobby that he brought Cas back, when he really left him to rot in the Empty. Dean has to find his best friend before it’s too late, and he has to keep a happy face for everyone else, because Chuck is watching. Always watching. 

“You know?” Dean shakes his head. “What’s going on?” 

Charlie leans back against the bar. “Well, after Ash and I found each other-” they give a cute little nod of the head in sync, dorks, “through the frankly shitty wifi they’ve got up here, we got to talking.” 

“Yeah, we realized some shit just didn’t add up. Like angel radio.” Ash spins around and ducks into his backroom, coming back with a laptop that’s way more advanced than it was last time. Dean raises his eyebrows at it. “Yeah, man, it’s sick, right? Charlie upgraded my systems, it’s bitchin’.” he reaches past Dean’s shoulder to give Charlie a fist bump (enthusiastically returned) and Dean backs off. 

“Yeah, bitchin’,” Dean repeats with a grin. He’s too dumb for these people. But he sure is glad they’re on his side.  “Well, hey, show me whatcha got.” 

Ash nods and taps his temple. He mutters to himself and pulls the system toward him while Dean watches anxiously. Ash pauses and looks at him. “Dude. Gimme a second? This setup is a lil’ more complicated than your blackberry.”

Dean snorts and gives him space, followed by Charlie. “Dude. you’ve been dead too long. Blackberrys haven’t existed for like… ten years.”

Ash gives him a genial middle finger and Dean grins. Charlie sits up on the pool table and Dean leans against it next to her. “Listen, Charlie, I gotta. I gotta say sorry, again, for…” He clears his throat. 

“Dying?” Charlie asks lightly.

“Uh, yeah.” 

“Not your fault, Dean.” She shrugs, and she actually manages to look cheerful. Damn, Dean loves this chick. She puts her hand on his shoulder and shakes her head. “Seriously, Dean. Let it go! I have! Seriously, I got to spend a few years with my high school girlfriend watching Lord of the Rings - she was a cheerleader - and sneaking out to design some fucking world-altering programs with Ash! Being dead, for me, it’s kinda amazing.” She smiles at him. “Guessing you don’t feel the same though, huh?” 

Dean swallows. He doesn’t know how much he wants to say about that, but being dead… it definitely sucks. And not in the good way. “Guess it just feels like I got more to do. Now, at least.” Now that Cas is… and heaven is…

Charlie looks like she doesn’t know what to say. Luckily, they’re interrupted before she has to think of something.

“Eyo! Sorry, amigos,” he leans over backwards to look at them. “Found it.” 

Charlie jumps off the table and grabs Dean’s hand. After a few steps she shoves him with her shoulder until he bumps into Ash’s back. Dean bounces off his soft form and clears his throat. “Sorry,” he mutters, throwing a death glare back at his surrogate sister. She flashes him a smug grin before focusing back on the computer screen. 

Ash recovers from getting jostled in time to point. “Yeah, so, we got word on Angel FM that this Jack kid is goin’ real Jim Jones over here.” He holds a finger up at several paragraphs as he’s flipping through them. “Preachin’ all kinda love and peace and hippy commune shit, but if somebody even questions it, he snaps. Naomi no-likey,” He smirks up at Dean and points to a group of cuss-words even Dean barely uses. “Rough translation.” 

Dean shakes his head. “That doesn’t sound like Jack.” Jack, especially Jack-with-a-soul, almost never got mad. I mean, he’d spent quality time with Lucifer without blowing up. The kid is level-headed to a fault. “Anything else?”

Ash frowns at him. “Y’know, going through angels’ personal phone calls is a lotta work.” 

Dean rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, you’re a genius. Got anything else?” 

“Ash, what about the human rumors?” 

Ash looks at Charlie and they have a silent battle of wills, but Dean’s too impatient to see who wins. “What human rumors?” 

They pause and come to an agreement. “Fighting. People fighting. Couples. Families. Friends. All over, since the reboot. People are happy, but… it’s like earth. People can talk - people can fight.” 

“And?” Dean raises his eyebrows. There’s something they’re not telling him, and he thinks he knows what.

Ash raises them right back. He’s not about to divulge. “Hombre, this ain’t earth. People are supposed to be happy. If they ain’t… like a glitch in the matrix, y’know?

Dean grunts. “Anything else weird on the radio? Anything at all.” 

Ash’s sigh sounds labored. He leans back in his chair and wobbles, obviously sorting through all the enochian bullshit he’s read over the past… whenever. “Meh… I got… I don’t know, God was singing?” 

“Singing? Singing what?” Dean leans in, intent. If it was Taylor Swift, Beyonce, maybe Lizzo… 

Ash cocks an eyebrow. “Folk shit. Indie music.” 

That’s what Dean was afraid of. “Shit.”

“Why? What does that mean?” Charlie grabs onto his arm. 

Dean’s worst fears, that’s what. “It means that ain’t my kid. It’s Chuck.” 

“Who the hell is that?” Ash stands up as Dean walks away, cursing every stupid atom that had decided to make this dumb universe. Although, he guesses, that was Chuck’s purview too. 

“He’s god! God before the reboot I mean, the dick who up and left and only came back to screw me and Sam over. Fuck, I thought we’d finally gotten out from under his thumb! Now, apparently, he’s just using my kid for his meat-suit.” Dean takes a deep breath. This is bad. Worse than bad-bad. 

“So… what do we do? How do we nuke God?” Charlie asks the question like it’s normal, just another Saturday afternoon. 

Dean thumps his forehead onto the nearest table. Sure, sure, good, great. They were back to square fucking one. “I don’t fucking know,” 

“Alright, break it down. We need more mojo, right? How do we get more mojo?” 

“Well, angels are the next best thing, right? Maybe if we get them all together, they’re obviously not psyched about folk-God, or whatever,”

Ash points at her like she’s a genius. “Alright, yeah!” 

“Guys, there aren’t enough angels left to even try.” Dean feels hopeless. There’s nothing to do. They are literally out of options. There’s no hope. 

“Well, where can we get some more angels, then?” 

Dean stands up. “I know a place.” His heart feels like it’s being squeezed like a lemon. It’s a crazy idea. It’s practically impossible. And probably suicide. And he’s gotta find a way. “We gotta break open the Empty.” 

“The Empty?” Ash looks skeptical. Dean smirks. 

“Yeah, angel/demon afterlife. We punch our way in there and we’ve got juice for days, man.” He spreads his arms out, asks the question. 

Ash glances at Charlie then back at Dean. He sniffs and nods. “I’m in.” 

Dean looks to Charlie, who scoffs. “Duh. Of course. So what, we get in and say pretty please help us kill your dad?” 

A warm feeling spreads through Dean’s chest. “Well, we’ll have a little help on the inside. Cas.”

“Castiel? The angel dude?” 

“He’s dead?” Charlie’s voice has much more concern than Ash’s. Dean nods in response to both questions. It still makes him feel like he’s swallowing glass to think about it. “What happened?” 

Dean looks down at his boots. It’s only the scene that keeps playing on repeat behind his eyelids. Cas crying, holding onto his shoulder, telling him… telling him goodbye. Telling him that. “He saved me.” he starts, expression guarded. “He made a deal.” 

Ash grunts and nods, ready to drop it. Charlie stays quiet too, but she clearly wants to say something. Dean’s thankful for the drop. He doesn’t know what he’d say if they asked more. All he knows is that he needs Cas back. And he needs to talk to him. He needs to tell him that - that he wants him to just stay fucking put, damn it. That he needs to stop dying on him. And that he can’t just go and say something like that and then leave. It’s a bitch-ass move. 

“Yo, Deano?” 

Dean jerks his head back up. “Yeah. Sorry.” 

“How do we jail-break ‘em?” 

“Guessing we’re gonna need some serious magic shit. And since we can’t get to Rowena…” 

Ash breaks into a wide grin. “Pamela? I’ll give her a call.” 

Pamela is “busy,” so they have to wait for her to finish up with Jesse before she can come by. Dean has to hand it to her, it’s just about the most Pamela thing in the world to put off their realms-saving work for a heavenly hookup. Dean hangs around talking for a bit, filling his friends in on the latest on Earth, but he can’t concentrate. Ever since they’d decided the next thing is to get into the Empty, he can’t relax. He takes his beer and goes outside to wait, settling down on the Roadhouse’s front step to watch for Pamela.

After a bit, Charlie plops down next to him, a soft grin on her lips. He returns it half-heartedly before looking out across the clearing. She leans her head against his shoulder. A few minutes pass in comfortable silence before she turns into him. “So we gotta get into the Empty.” she sighs. Dean nods glumly. Just his fucking luck. Even heaven is ruined. But at least… at least they’ve got a shot. “And get Castiel.” 

Dean frowns and pulls away to look at her. Maybe it’s just his paranoia, but he hears some deeper meaning in her voice. “The guy died for me. I gotta,” he presses his lips together, hating himself for the half-lie he’s telling. Cas deserves better. Charlie just nods and watches, like she’s waiting for him to keep going. When he manages to talk again, his voice cracks. “We gotta get him, Charlie.” 

Charlie pulls him into a side hug. “I always said he was dreamy, that angel.” She points out. Dean snorts. He remembers. He’d blushed like an idiot after she said that the first time. 

“Yeah.” He mutters. Okay, so she knows. That he and Cas are… that Dean’s… good. Cas deserves recognition. He deserves someone to talk about him. For Dean to talk about him. But then Charlie just hasn’t spoken, and he feels like he needs some explanation. “I… there were other guys, before him.” He continues, clearing his throat. His mind wanders to Benny and Lee, Crowley. “But he’s… he’s it.” 

He risks a look at Charlie and she is just staring at him with a fond smile. She surges forward and kisses his cheek, squealing. “Yes, I fucking knew it, you bisexual dumbass! Bi, right?” 

Dean laughs. “Yeah, I guess- wait, you knew?” 

Charlie looks around, like Dean’s a dumbass it was so obvious. “Well, yeah, dude. Game recognize game.” She motions between the two of them and he scoffs. That’s right. Gaydar. That would’ve been nice to have for the last, oh, 12 years? “We’ll get him back.” 

Dean pulls Charlie in for another hug and leaves her tucked under his arm until a motorcycle pulls up and Pamela gets off, shaking her hair loose like a blind slow-motion model in a porno. She grins at the pair on the steps like she can see them. “Take a picture, you two. It’ll last longer.”

“How did you-”

She throws a hand out in dismissal. “Please, I can feel ogling from a mile away.” She pauses, laughing at the embarrassed silence Charlie and Dean are sporting. “Nah, I’m just joking. I do the hair-shake for a reason. I deserve a good stare. Hell, it’s half the reason I own this motorcycle.” She throws her helmet in the general direction of the motorcycle and greets her friends. Dean can’t decide whose hug is more flirty, his or Charlie’s. 

“Alright, bitches. Let’s séance some shit.” 

tag list: (ask or dm to be removed or added)

@dochunterwitch  @justonecitizenoftheearth @gnbrules @purpe @castiel-is-a-cat @alienapparatus

[dontasktheradiodemon]

Coastal Waters (1/8/2021)

Click here if you’re like “What the heck is this about?”

Valera @autokrates and Madame @usedhearts meet underwater, talk about Madame’s history, eat an eel, and head to the library when Valera discovers to his horror that Madame, an octopus, doesn’t know shit about octopuses. octopodes. octopi.

Madame

The sea. She hadn't even seen the ocean since she was just a girl, let alone swam deep in her waters. The water was warm against her skin, and she flowed through it with an effortless grace that she honestly didn't know she had. It felt good. It felt right, to be among the waves of this alien planet. This was were a giant octopus of a lady should be.

Madame just sat there, under the water, watching curious fish and other creatures flit towards her. She was far larger than any of them, so they were either brave or foolish. A few of the more foolish ones found their way inside her mouth for their crimes. She intentionally kept her skin a pinkish red, wanting to stand out among the reef. A color that said 'Here I am, and I'm bigger than you, so watch out!' It was perfect really.  She kept a look out for anyone else going for a swim-- she'd be sure they got a little kraken scare, just for fun.

Valera

Funny, how even on an alien planet, the ocean is still comforting to anyone who loved it. Colorful fish were abundant, the reddish light of the suns lending a faintly pink tinge to the rays coming down through the water.

And here comes Valera to torment innocent wildlife, a flash of silver followed by pink as he chases a mirror bright eel adjacent creature past Madame's resting place.

Madame

Madame's head snapped to the side as Valera passed, and quick as anything, she's off after him. That eel is the target, hm? Well, she wasn't about to let their host have an easy go of it. Tentacles opening and then thrusting back to get her speed, she closed in, trying to get it first-- or at least, make a little game of it for Valera.

Valera

It takes a few seconds for Valera to notice the appearance of a competitor, movement in the corner of his eyes nearly distracting him enough to lose track of the eel. But then the slippery menace turns on a dime, diving into a crevice in the rocks for all its worth. Valera's forced to brake, fins flaring out dramatically as he backpedals just to not smash into the rocks.

He perches on the coral, snorting out a few bubbles as he looks up at Madame. "Damn! Ah well, it'll have to come out eventually. Hello! What's an octopus like you doing in a place like this?"

Madame

Unfortunately, Madame doesn't catch herself quite as quickly as Valera, but she does slow herself enough to not smash hard against the rocks. She winced as she pulled away from them, rubbing her arm.

"Ouch. Them eels are slippery fuckers, ain't they?" She smirked at Val, swimming over to them and perching in a similar manner. "That it does. And thought I'd go for a swim, enjoy it while I can 'n all that. The closest I get to all this is my aquariums at home. This is...heaven, honestly."

Valera

Valera frowns, leaning in to sniff at Madame. Any blood? He can patch up a scrape no problem! The praise for his planet makes him purr, a soft buzz in the water that makes nearby fish start swimming closer to nibble at the pink fish's scales.

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself! I was hoping my home would be a place of relaxation, but it seems like it's getting even more of a positive response than expected. If you really like it though, I'll see about inviting you back sometime!"

Madame

No blood, luckily, but she'd probably have a bruise or three later. Octopus skin is durable but not the best when it comes to impacts.

"Oh, I'd simply love that-- even give ya free drinks for life at the Cabaret if that'd sweeten the pot." She winked and laughed, before turning to look up at the surface, watching the sunlight glitter through. She was glad they were surrounded by salt water-- a few tears wouldn't be noticed down here.

"It truly is beautiful. Reminds me so much a home-- I ever tell ya, me 'n Alastor hail from the same place? Good ol' Nawlins, right there on the gulf. Gorgeous city, full of wonderful people 'n the best food 'n the south. When I went west with my husband, I knew I'd miss the ocean, but I didn't think I'd die without ever seein' it again." She smiled as she turned towards him.

"Ya really put some joy back in an ol' lady's heart, Valera, invitin' me here. Didn't think it'd mean as much as it does...but here we are." She laughed, and wiped at her eyes-- before remembering there was nothing to wipe. "Forgive me, gettin' all emotional. We supposed t' be lookin' for an eel, right?"

Valera

"Oh, that eel can go tie itself in knots for all I care, we're talking about this old lady here right now." Valera leans in, a clawed hand delicately patting at Madame's shoulder. "I didn't know you were from New Orleans! I've been there a few times. Lovely place. Very...." He pauses to think, plucking a wandering shrimp off the reef to gesture with. "Lively? Vibrant! You can really lose yourself in that city"

His tail winds around an outcrop, the fish settling down like he was lounging on the finest swooning couch. "So, you were married? Happily, I hope!"

Madame

She took a few breaths, the water filling her chest with warmth, and nodded.

"I was, born 'n raised. Got married a fresh faced youth 'n me 'n the husband decided to try 'n make our fortunes out west. We made it out there too, 'n then he caught ill 'n passed. Left me with a house built and some livestock bought 'n not much else. Started up doin' work on my back, 'n then collected some other girls, some a them like me, others on they own from the start. Home my husband built became my saloon 'n brothel, 'n a whole town sprung up around it. Lovely lil' place.

"But with people come folk what think they the law in a lawless patch a ground. Dumb fucks didn't like me much, and I ain't care for them neither. Startin' smugglin' for local outlaws, hidin' some. The quote-unquote 'law' got it in they heads to burn my place down, cause I was hidin' some poor boy they wanted-- surprised them when the whole thing blew to smithereens cause we was sittin' on a couple boxes a dynamite. Oh, if I coulda seen their faces...." She trailed off and then cleared her throat, laughing a little.

"But then I landed in Hell. And they did too. Strung 'em up by they own insides for I staked a claim on the land I landed on. That's where the Cabaret sits now. The asshole's skeletons're in the aquarium now, housin' crabs and whatnot. Serves 'em right."

Valera

Valera makes a sound more like a dolphin noise than a whistle, crossing one leg over the other as he listens to Madame tell her not especially tragic backstory. "It certainly does. Though I'm sure the short time they spent in Hell came as a rather nasty surprise, if they were going around calling themselves the *law*."

A snort. "It sounds like you've been a woman with a talent for business since day one, Madame. Can't say I'm surprised with the way you run things, but what a story. Sorry to hear about the husband though, losing someone is never easy."

Madame

She nodded, crossing her legs as daintily as someone who was fifteen feet tall could.

"Oh yeah, real nasty surprise for them-- shame I didn't keep 'em around longer, woulda been fun to have 'em strung up on the dart boards or somethin'."

Madame shrugged. "I did miss 'im but, after he died, I realized that I never _really_ loved him. Not like a woman 'n a man 'should' love each other. Dunno why, always been like that I suppose. But we was best friends since childhood 'n it made sense back then to marry someone y' at least liked, instead a some stranger."

Valera

"Hah! I can see it now! Are you a sadist? Five bucks a pop and you can throw your darts at the living dart boards! Ten points if you get them in the eyes, fifteen if you throw hard enough to knock a tooth out! Oh, Hell would have loved that." He cackles, popping the shrimp into his mouth for a quick snack. Mmm, crunchy!

"...Is there a 'should'?" His face twists in confusion. "Maybe it's an alien thing. I was set to bond with my own best friend before I cut that short in favor of running the Autocracy. Romance seems secondary in favor of... You know. Benefits."

Madame

"Dunno. With humans there's always a 'should', it seems. 'Ya _should_ love a man. Ya _should_ marry 'n have kids. Ya _should_ pick yerself up by yer bootstraps 'n get shit done. Ya _should_ know all the right things ta say'." She sighed and shrugged.

"Never much cared for the shoulds. Married because it seemed better'n bein' alone-- and I ended up alone anyways. So, what was the point 'n the first place? I sure as shit don't know. Just lost my best friend, that's all." Madame leaned her chin on her hand, elbow on her knee. "Think I woulda fared better with aliens then humans."

Valera

An eyebrow is raised as Valera turns what Madame said over in his mind. "I don't think marrying your best friend directly resulted in him dying, Madame. But I will admit, you wouldn't be the first human, former or otherwise, to say they would have likely been happier with an alien partner." He's absolutely talking about Pentious. And maybe a few others. He's a popular fish!

"Humans are silly creatures, and I do say that fondly! I've seen very few races as determined to bind themselves to strict social rules and roles that none of them seem to actually enjoy. It's baffling."

Madame

She laughed and nodded. "Yeah, I know whatcha mean. Most people seem happier when they break social conventions. Makes ya wonder why we even got 'em."

Madame took a breath and smiled. "And I didn't mean it so much as an alien partner as, well, maybe I was just meant to not be a human-- alien in a human body or some such. Maybe it's why I adapted ta bein' a weird giant octopus demon so well!"

Valera

"Your guess is better than mine, I'm only a human when it suits me."

He grins, all teeth. "It wouldn't surprise me. You never struck me as especially *human*, tentacles nonwithstanding. A lovely person? Yes, absolutely. You take good care of all your girls. But human? Not really." Well that's cryptic. But good luck getting him to elaborate, he's already distracted by trying to shove his arm into the crevice where the eel is hiding.

Madame

Madame let out another laugh, smirking as she shrugged and waved a hand.

"I'll take the compliment, and y'know, that reminds me a one of my go-to numbers." She slid off the rock she sat on and floated down a bit, twirling as she went.

"_I admit that in the past I've been a nasty, they weren't kidding when they called me well, a witch_...." She trailed off, giggling. "One of my favorites. That and 'When You're Good To Mama', acourse."

Valera

"Mm, I had you pinned as a contralto day one, my dear Madame." Valera glances over, against the rock up to the shoulder as he scrabbled for the eel. "You run that routine at the cabaret, right? I'll have to swing by to see it sometime! Maybe with my beau, though I don't know his opinion on burlesque just yet."

Madame

"Oh yes! Just tell me when y'all are droppin' by and I'll be sure to add myself to the night's roster." She winked and swam closer, looking at Val's arm, stuck deep in the rock.

"Any luck findin' the squirmy bastard? Or do ya need something a little more dexterous?" She wiggled a tentacle at him.

Valera

He frowns, then pulls his arm back and gestures for Madame to take his place. "I think you may have better luck, my dear. And for more than just that dexterity of yours! Mind the teeth though, those eels aren't the sharpest around, but they bite and do NOT let go."

Madame

Her arms crossed as she slid the tentacle inside, and Madame's face screwed up in concentration. A few moments later she let out a shout.

"Ow! Fucker got me, but I got him too!" With a mighty yank, her tentacle pulled back out, the eel wrapped tight in it, even as it chomped down on her. "What now, Val?"

Valera

"Now you eat him!" He crows, clapping his hands together as the eel gives the most hateful look it can muster. Though, underwater, there wasn't actually any sound to the gesture. "It's your catch, just bite him behind the eyes, nice and clean kill!"

Madame

She arched a brow, but brought the eel closer, moving to get a good angle. Madame opened her mouth and snapped down on the eel's head-- and it released it's own bite on her. She took it in her hands and bit it in half, swallowing down the front half.

Madame offered the other half to Val, grinning. "Here. Only right a guest share with her host."

Valera

He affects a dainty gasp, accepting the eel with a coquettish fluttering of his lashes. "Why THANK you, my dear Madame. Such a gracious guest, my hearts are warmed by your consideration."

And that chunk of eel is gone in a flash, yam yam. "Gods, always a tasty little morsel. Those have a lot of interesting names in various languages here, but my personal favorite is the one that translates best to..." He taps his chin, trying to think of the closest words. "Something like Bastard Snake. Bastard as in abandoned son, not the insult."

Madame

"Nah, I think the insult worst better, cause he sure was a bastard ta get outta there." She gestured toward her bitten tentacle.

"Think he mighta torn a chunk outta me. Ouch..." She brought it closer to inspect and while the chunk wasn't _gone_, it was barely hanging out. "Oh, that's a doozy..."

Valera

He leans in, taking a closer look at the damage to Madame's tentacle with a sympathetic hiss. "Oooh, that looks painful. Want me to fix it?"

A waggle of his fingers, and he extends a glowing hand. That's probably not ominous, right?

Madame

"Can ya?" She asked, her head tilting. "I'd love ta not have to whip out the scar cream for somethin' so small."

Valera

"I can! Healing and barriers are actually my specialty." He trills, looking VERY pleased with himself about that fact. "No strings attached for you, of course."

Madame

"Well, then, thank ya kindly. Yer a lovely 'n gracious host." She beamed.

Valera

He takes her tentacle in hand, smoothing over the wound with a slow sweep of his palm. A brief flash of numbness, heat, and there, good as new. No dramatics necessary! But he's still going to deliver with some SPECTACULAR jazz hands and the cheeriest grin he can muster.

"There, how's that?"

Madame

Madame let out a little 'oh!' at the numbness and heat, and as soon as her tentacle was released, it flexed and wiggled of its own accord.

"Well, that was sure somethin'! Never had a healin' like that."

Valera

"Never? Is healing magic not common in Hell?" Well, either that or Madame just didn't get hurt often. Either seemed possible.

Madame

"Oh no, it's not that. Usually gettin' somethin' healed costs-- usually a soul, or a favor, but always somethin'." She shrugged. "Try not to get into too many fights, cause the healin' is usually worse than the damage."

Valera

He squints, planting his chin on his open palm as he stares at the fixed tentacle. "I mean, I guess it cost something? All I did was encourage your natural healing. A few cell divisions to smooth over the damage, replace the torn up cells. Something that small didn't require actually replacing any massive swaths of material. You'll be hungrier than usual later, but that's about it!"

A shrug. "It would have been worse if you'd actually lost a chunk, but even then, I could have just converted a pebble to matching flesh or something. No biggie!"

Madame

"A pebble? Huh!" She tapped her chin. "That is somethin'. Yer magic's a lot more powerful than anythin' I can channel. Usual I go to good ol' Al for any real punchy magics."

Valera

"You know, people keep saying that. I never thought of myself as especially powerful." He holds up a finger. "Well, no. I have plenty of RAW power. But as far as efficiency goes, I'm absolute garbage. My magic isn't nearly as finely tuned as it could be. I burn tons of it on even small spells. Like, embarrassing amounts. Horrendously sloppy."

A sigh. "What kind of magic do you usually need from good old Alastor?"

Madame

"If I need a costume on the fly, he can magic up some pretty good threads. He's fairly good at some basic healin'-- like if ona my acts sprains somethin'. And of course, the best magic of all-- his reputation. Ain't nobody gonna mess with the Cabaret none if I got the Radio Demon in my back pocket." She paused.

"Don't tell him I said that, he wouldn't take kindly to it."

Valera

He waves a hand, grin turning downright impish. "What, me? Tell an Alastor that his reputation is helping protect his friends? My dear, I would *never*."

Madame

Madame giggled, and winked at him. "Yer a peach, shug." She put her hands on her hips.

"Anythin' else ya wanna tag team, huntin' wise? I'm down for a lil explorin' 'n huntin', if you are."

Valera

Valera sticks his tongue out, slowly unwinding his tail from his anchor point. "No, I'm a fish! But I understand the confusion. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone your mistake." A wink.

"We'll have to browse the local selection, Madame! If you're amenable to a bit of window shopping, that is."

Madame

"I dunno about that, ya ass is pretty peachy!" She cackled, swimming closer to take his arm.

"I'm a fan a any kinda shoppin', includin' the window kind!"

Valera

Oho! Quick on the sass with that one, was she? Good! Keeps things interesting. He politely flutters his fins, turning his head this way and that to scout out a meal.

"You're more of an ambush predator, no?"

Madame

"Think so! Don't know too much bout octopuses honestly? Only what I've been able to figure out, mostly. But it worked earlier!" She laughed.

Valera

... He turns his head back to look at Madame, eyebrows inching up slowly but surely.

"Pardon? You don't know about octopuses? The very animal your soul was moulded after for your eternal punishment?"

Madame

She laughed, oh that look on his face!

"Yup! Thinka how surprised I was when I dropped inta Hell lookin' like this!" She gestured to herself. "Knew things like fish 'n gators 'n the like, 'n even the tiny little octopuses, but never one as big as me!"

Valera

He squints, slowly turning them back towards the shore. Sounds like they're about to make a trip to the *library*.

"I'm sure. So you're not familiar with how octopus brains work? Or the semi-independent "minds" of their tentacles?"

Madame

"Oh, is that why they sometimes do shit on they own?" She giggled again, going along with Val's movements.

"And no, I ain't. Never thought to look it up, too busy buildin' my business 'n keepin' it."

Valera

He snorts. Yes, this library visit is sounding more and more necessary. But he's not above setting a sedate pace. A couple of friends on a relaxing swim, no need to flip.

"Yes, Madame. You'll also be pleased to know that were you an octopus of the male persuasion, one of your tentacles would also be your penis." A pause, and he amends. "Well, theoretically. It gets wibbly when you mix humans and other species. I doubt you'd lay four hundred thousand eggs and then die from a single mating."

Madame

Her eyes widened and she can't help but laugh again. "Oh fuck! Yeah, sure glad I don't do that! Woulda double died a long time ago!"

Valera

"If it makes you feel any better, the Earth fish I most resemble, the lionfish, can lay..." A tap at his lips, give him a moment to recall... Oh, yes, there we go. "Fifteen thousand eggs every four days?"

That's so many. He shudders at the very thought. "I'm not *quite* so prolific. But fret not, my dear. All those facts and more can be safely tucked into your noggin once we find you a book that doesn't read like watching paint dry. I know there's SOMETHING about octopuses being able to tamper with their own biology on the fly."

Madame

"Oh? That sounds interestin'. And yeah, glad we ain't out here layin' thousands of eggs, that's just too much." She laughed, giving his arm a squeeze in hers.

Valera

And off they go, back to shore and beyond, to educate an octopus woman on her own partial biology. How lovely.

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 90

The more chapters I post, the weirder that number feels. I swear.

“Have a good night, Grandma Kim,” I smiled from the door and waved as she and Lyric made their way into the stream of foot traffic in the corridor.  Conor had just come home from work, so I had the obligatory two people to keep any eye on me for the night.  Turned out that my mandatory escorts were not only for travelling to and from anywhere - and locking the door to my quarters wasn’t considered enough, either, since “Too many people have permission to just walk in,” as Xiomara pointed out.

When I turned around, both men were already seated at the table, a small and tidy dinner of roast, boiled potatoes, and salad waiting. “No GK?” Conor frowned, pointing at a fourth place setting.

“She said she had to get to another appointment,” I explained.  With a groan, he reached down.  To my surprise, he picked a fifth place setting off the floor.  “Wait, you set a plate for Lyric? You don’t even do that for Mac!”

 Jokingly, he shook a finger at me. “That cat’s a damned menace,” he grumbled. “Besides, we all know Mac eats from whatever and whoever’s plate he wants. He doesn’t need his own.”

 Maverick just smiled at his back as the taller man put the plates and silverware away. “Says the person who always saves an entire serving of everything for the ‘damned menace,’ as you put it.”

“He likes my plate better.” With a wink and playful grin, he sat down and started slicing the roast.

Smiling lightly, Maverick brushed his hair out of his face and turned to me. “Stuff better between you and Tyche?” 

Stabbing a potato, I shrugged before wobbling my hand a bit. “Kind of?  We’re still working through a game of Twenty Thousand Questions, but we aren’t mad at each other anymore.  So there’s that.” 

“You’ve been in a noticeably better mood, at least.”

I scowled as he set some salad on my plate. “I haven’t had five minutes to myself since the incident with Charly.  That’s going to make anyone cranky.”

“You didn’t help when you put that bloke flat on his back, love,” Conor chided gently. “One slice or two?”

Eyeballing how thick he cut them, I thought for a second. “One, for right now? With gravy?”

“What heathen doesn’t put gravy on roast?” was the scoffed answer.

Maverick’s head snapped up, half a slice of meat hanging out of his mouth. “Ee guy ah even eh own eye ussoom gayey.”

“Babe, please cut the rest of that up before you choke…” I begged, looking away.  The military had done horrible things to his table manners, but at least he kept them isolated to ‘private’ meals.  “On the topic of Tyche, we fence twice a week while Arthur scowls at us or Coffee pretends to ignore us and read a book. I ask her questions, and she whallops me when I guess wrong.” 

“And why is your sainted best friend scowling at you?” Conor stabbed half a potato and shoved it in his mouth, staring at my skeptically.

I stabbed my own potato before cutting it carefully in half. “He may prefer saber.”

“Ehrr oaf.”

“Maverick,” I sighed without looking over. “I am begging you…” A snort of laughter forced me to surrender and turn towards him. “You shit.”

He was sticking his tongue out at me, mouth clearly empty. After I stared long enough, he lost his composure and started laughing, squeezing my upper arm with one hand. “I’m sorry, Sophia.  I’ll stop, I swear.”  Briefly managing a serious face, he ran a hand down and then across his chest. “Cross my heart.”

“King’s X,” Conor corrected.

All I could do is roll my eyes. “It’s the same thing…”

“Still tense, huh?”

“A little,” I admitted softly.  I usually would be laughing and joking with them - who could you be gross and ridiculous around, if not your loved ones? - but I just couldn’t right then. “I think being watched all the time is making me feel watched all the time.  Like I always have to have my public face on.”

Conor hummed, rubbing the arm facing him. “Maybe we can think of something to let you have a bit of time to yourself.”

“We could have the sensors monitor you, have one of Miys specifically keeping a watch on that?”

I shook my head. “That’s literally how I met you, remember? Someone destroyed the navigation sensors, and hacked the monitoring ones in order to destroy the replacement parts.  Xiomara will never agree.”

“Damn it,” Maverick swore softly. “We can at least leave the room?”

Dropping my fork, I threw my hands in the air. “And go where? It’s not like you can leave our quarters.”

“She’s right.  And we can’t even go in the bedroom and leave her out here… If we aren’t in the same room with her, we have to be in one closer to the exit.” Conor pointed over his shoulder with a fork before using it to dig into his salad. “Meaning she can be in the bathroom or bedroom alone.”

“At which point I may as well be a prisoner.”   My frustration was vented against my slice of roast, and I absolutely did not cut it more aggressively than strictly necessary.

With a wince, Maverick slowly lowered his hands from where they had been covering his ears. His eyes darted to the knife that was now laying beside my plate, clearly trying to figure out how to take it away from me. “More potatoes?”

Clearly discretion was the better part of valor in his case.

“I’m fine,” I mumbled, prodding the lumps of formerly-roast on my plate.

“We’re going to get through this, Sophie, I promise.”  Conor stood, but rather than trying to approach me, he stepped into the kitchen.  When he returned, he had a plate of soft rolls.  Tearing one in half, he started scooping the massacred remains of my dinner onto it before handing it to me. “There. All better.”

I gave him a watery smile as he set it on my plate.  “I’m sorry I’ve been such a grumpy bitch lately,” I whispered.  Glancing up, I could see them exchanging puzzled looks.  “Oh come on, don’t pretend I’ve been an angel. Just last week, you two left me and Tyche here, with strict orders to sort our shit out.”

“If you didn’t get grouchy when things are out of your control, you wouldn’t be Sophia,” Maverick pointed out generously.  “Besides, it’s not like you threw anything.”

“Or broke shit.”

“I still owe you both an apology,” I argued. “Just because I’m out of my comfort zone, that doesn’t mean it’s okay for me to snap and snarl at you two.”

Conor snapped his fingers several times. “Dinner.  At the Undine. You, your sister, Charly… Maybe don’t get drunk this time, but a night out, yeah?  People who would be there anyway, just like we’re usually the ones with you at night. Whatcha say?”

I shook my head slowly. “I don’t think Xio is going to approve that. Both of us in one place, for starters. Plus somewhere that crowded?  Security would be a nightmare.”

“What about camping? Charly keeps mentioning at work that she’s dying to go camping.”

This time, it was Maverick’s turn to be confused. “Where?” he gestured around us. “We’re on a space ship.  Where can we go camping?”

“BioLab2,” came the answer. “It goes into night mode from mid Beta-shift to the start of Alpha. That’s fifteen hours of night time.  We’d have to get special permission, since folks aren’t usually allowed in there at ‘night’, but given the circumstances, I think Grey could be convinced to try it out.  See how the nocturnal species in the lab react to their schedule being interrupted.”

“You seriously want me to go camping?” I asked skeptically.

“Hey, I love to go camping!” He looked comically offended.  Glancing at Maverick, he raised an eyebrow in challenge.

“Never been, but I can give it a shot,” was the mild reply.  In the bottom of my field of vision, a hand snaked over and snagged the sort-of stuffed bun from my plate.  I didn’t even stop him, just waited for the inevitable.  Sure enough, less than a minute later, he started sputtering. “Oh, that is disgusting!”

Conor tsked at him, shaking his head. “Love, you saw me put her poor roast on the bap. You knew it had gravy on it.”

“But you put the mushrooms on the bread, too!?”

“I did it for the lady, who likes mushroom gravy.”  Heaving a sigh, he stood up, went back into the kitchen, and returned with a small carafe of something. Prying apart another roll, he gently tucked a slice of roast inside, before pouring the contents of the carafe - plain, brown gravy, as it turned out - both beneath and on top of the meat. “You have to have something or it’s too dry,” he explained, handing it to Maverick, who surrendered mine back into my own custody.

I took a bite of mine, and gave a little hum of delight. It reminded me of being in school and stuffing mashed potatoes with gravy and thin sliced mystery meat into a yeast roll to make the meat edible, only much better.  Gesturing to Maverick’s own sandwich emphatically, I waited.

Unlike his enthusiasm for stolen food, he stared his own bun down suspiciously before taking a very ginger bite.  Chewing carefully for a moment, he furrowed his face in thought before finally making a similarly happy noise and taking a larger bite.  Covering his mouth with one hand, he gave his verdict. “Dis iss guh!”

Conor and I both rolled our eyes, landing on each other’s face. “You’d think the boy never had chipped beef on toast. Or a French dip sammy,” Conor scoffed as he made his own.

It took everything I had not to dissolve into laughter as I watched my beautiful roast dinner be turned into schoolyard sandwiches.  But sometimes, that’s what you need, I reminded myself as I took another bite. Kids have the right idea.

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[micahscowgirl]

Bite Me ~ Chapter 4

Micah Bell x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Cursing, Male Masturbation, Choking, Biting, Blood

Word Count: 3700

Sorry I haven’t uploaded in awhile! Been really busy and have had too many people around to just openly write fanfics.  I hope this chapter pleases all of my readers <3. I am open to suggestions for the story and am accepting asks as well now, too! I am going to try and open up to new things like headcannons and shorts. Let me know what you think! Asks and inbox are always opened! Love you guys!

Also, this was proofed very quick, if you see any mistakes, let me know and I’ll take care of them!

Micah carried you to the room; he didn't want to wake you. Once inside, he laid you on the bed and covered you up. As he started to turn, you made a whining noise and kicked off the covers. 

"Pants," you say, slurring the word. "No pants."

Micah shakes his head and smiles, "God, you're drunk." He obeys your command and slides your pants off. He was being nice for once. It was probably the alcohol and excitement from your little show you threw. After throwing your pants to the other side of the bed, he plops himself in a chair that stood in the corner of the room. He hated his insomnia. It made his nights dreadfully long. He would usually find a few sorry folks on the roads to rob, but he had to stay with you tonight. He didn't know why he felt that he needed to; you were such a smart ass towards him, he should want to avoid you. He would've said he almost hated you the day before when you embarrassed him in front of Charles. All he aimed for was to upset you. You deserved it after all. At the same time, there was that part of him that wanted to own you, have you falling at his feet. He hated that you were different. 

He watched you lying there. He had pulled the cover back after sliding off your pants. You were lying on your back, arms laying on either side of your head. Your chest was lifting and falling in a peaceful rhythm. After a while, you began to squirm, turning onto your belly. He thought it was funny how you could appear drunk even in your sleep. He pulled out one of his pistols and began to clean it. He had a long night ahead of him. 

He was stopped suddenly when you released a small, dreamy moan. You were caught up in your thoughts, so wound up in your fantasies that they were surfacing for him to hear. He looked up at you and started to think of your moans from earlier. As you were pleasured by the saloon girl, you had said his name. Moaned it, more like. You had been grinding on her, but looking deep in his eyes. He wished so bad that he was that girl. Except he wouldn't have been so gentle. He still needed to punish you for your actions.

Before he knew it, his pants were becoming much tighter. "Dammit, doll, what are you doing to me?" It had been so long since he had been with a woman, and especially long since he'd been with one he didn't pay for. He stands and leaves to the washroom. Thankfully, there was no one in the halls, so he didn't have to hide his growing erection. 

He closes the door and paces around the room. ‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’ he thinks to himself. ‘That damn woman. She needs to stop getting into your head. She knows what she's doing. You're foolish to think she actually wants you. She's just playing one of her sick games.’ There's a chest up against the wall that he sits down on. He grips his member through his pants, trying to get it to go away. His thoughts won't leave him alone. He feels himself throb harder under his palm. "Fuck." As much as he tries to fool himself, he really doesn't want it to leave.

He undoes his button and zipper and frees his throbbing cock. He squeezes, spits on it, and begins to stroke. He keeps thinking of you grinding, and then bouncing. In his thoughts, you’re on his lap, not hers. As he starts to pick up the pace, he thinks of your hands. His cock would look so good in them. And in your mouth... He grits his teeth, his breath is picking up. Your tight body, your wicked, evil smile. The tip of his dick begins to release the first of his juices. You're so hardheaded, would you hold back your screams to torture him, or would you let them all out? He thinks of how you whimpered when he cut you. He wanted to torture you, spank you, and make you whimper more. He would be in control and you would do as he says. 

He feels himself getting closer. He wanted to hear you scream as he pounded you from behind, the sound of skin slapping skin. He would reach up and grab your throat, continuing to push into you harder and harder. He wanted to choke you. You deserved it. You were going to get what you had coming for you. In his mind, he could hear you screaming his name while you tighten around him when you hit your climax.

That thought was the last before he spilled himself all over the floor. "Dear God, Y/N."

He sat there for a few minutes, trying to return to normal breathing, and then stood, sticking his soft member back into his pants. After finally composing himself, he returns to your room, leaving his mess on the floor.

When he enters the room, he sees that you have kicked the blankets down again. He walks over and pulls them back up, not wanting the sight of your body sending his thoughts venturing again. After pulling his jacket off, he sits back in the chair. You aren't making any more noise and you've stopped shifting around. He focuses on your breathing, the perfect, peaceful rhythm. Keeping his breathing at the same pace, he finally let his head fall, and, for the first time in weeks, he slept.

~~~~~~

You awoke the next morning, a throbbing headache already overwhelming you. "Dammit," you say as you sat up, a sharp pain in the side of your head causing you to wince. "What happened last night?" You throw your legs off the edge of the bed, rubbing your palms on your temples. "I ain't never felt this bad." You notice that your pants are lying on the floor, and your holster is hanging over a chair next to the bed. Parts of last night start to return to you. You had robbed a house with Micah; Dutch had sent the two of you together. ‘Wait, where's Micah, then?’ You think to yourself. 

You stand up and pull your pants on. As you're securing your holster on, you notice your jacket hanging on a coatrack next to the door. You pull it off and see that Micah's was underneath it. There was no sign of him at the saloon anymore, so he must have forgotten it. After sliding your coat on, you grab his and head out of the room. According to your pocket watch, it's almost noon. The saloon is almost empty, excluding two men at the bar and one speaking with the barber that had a shop in the back. 

You nod to the bartender on your way out. "Hey, girl." You approach your horse, patting her on the shoulder. You reach into your satchel to find some crackers for her when you gasp. Inside, there was a huge bundle of cash and a jewelry bag that's almost bursting. There's a note tucked in with the cash. You pull it out and read it. The writing was sloppy, but you could still make it out. 

Doubt you remember much from last night, you were hammered, but we made quite a fortune off that house Dutch told us to hit. You mentioned keeping almost all of it after about 3 beers last night. Not sure if you'd have the same opinion when you woke up, so I just gave you all of it to make that decision. I still want my share depending on what you do. I'll see you back at camp, Doll. I have some business to take care of. -M

You look back into your bag at the money again. You can't help but chuckling a little. Not just at the idea of how much money you now had on you, but also at the note he had left. It was too nice to be the Micah you knew. What happened last night? You don't remember much after returning to the saloon. Maybe he still had some alcohol in his blood when he wrote it. That must've been it.

~~~~~~

You dismounted your horse, leaving her next to Arthur's. Jack was sitting nearby, picking some flowers. "Whatcha doing there, bud." You say while approaching him. He looks up at you and smiles.

"Picking flowers. Mama's been sad today, so I want to give her flowers!" He says, holding them up for you to see. "I like the yellow ones best, but I only have four of them."

"Well, I think I might recall seeing some near Pearson's wagon. Might want to check there."

"Really?" He says, jumping to his feet. I'll go look!" He starts to hurry off. You smile at the sight of his run, missing the days when all that mattered was where to find the best flowers. 

You make your way over to Dutch's tent. He's sitting inside on his bed reading a book. Or, trying to read a book, that is. Miss O'Shea is fussing about who-knows-what. She always seems to be upset about something.

"Knock knock," You say as you walk in. Molly gives you a small snarl. Dutch looks up from his book at you.

"Great, give your attention to your little errand girl. I only must wonder what she's offering you for you to show so much interest in her. You probably know every bit of what's hiding under those clothes of hers." Before Dutch can say anything, she turns sharply and stomps off. 

Dutch stands, lying his book on the bed. "I'm sorry about her, she doesn't know how to hold her tongue."

"She's just stressed. She probably feels that it's her job to try to relieve you of all the stress that you carry." As much as you dislike, Miss O'Shea, you don't feel it's appropriate to express those opinions, especially to Dutch. He just shakes his head, opening a new box of cigars. You don't want to linger on the subject, so you continue. "Micah and I paid a visit to that house last night." You reach into your bag and pull out the jewelry bag, which you had emptied more than half of on your way back. You hand it to him, and then pull out $200, which was just a small portion of what you actually made away with. You hold it while he looks in the bag and then hand it to him when he's done. He doesn't say much while he counts it.

"Where's Micah?" He finally says.

The question caught you off-guard. "W-What? Oh, I-I'm not sure." He turns and places the take on his bed.

"Did he put you up to this?" 

"Pardon?"

He turns to look at you. "I may not have known you very long, but I can tell when you're lying." He walks up to you, only about a foot away, he seems to tower over you. "Micah set you up to this?"

You take a deep, quiet breath. You can remain calm in front of Micah, you can do the same to Dutch. "What are you accusing me of, boss?"

He starts to walk around you, taking a slow drag from his fresh cigar. "You know? I would've easily expected this from him, but never of you." He's facing you again. "Uncle told me exactly what the man said. The house you to robbed was sitting on a lot more than this."

You remain still, not showing him that he's right. "That's what he told us, too. But that's all we found. Must've had the rest of his fortune locked up tight somewhere. Micah and I looked as much as we could while they were asleep. We're doing our best without being shot or thrown in jail. Now, if you'll excuse me." You walk away from him, but are stopped quick when Dutch grabs your shoulder. This is the first time that Dutch has ever made you feel unsafe.

"Don't let him change you, Y/N. He's not a good influence, especially for someone as talented and special as you." He leans closer to you and whispers. "I let you come with us; join our family. Just remember that." He releases your shoulder and you walk out of his tent without saying anything else. You can't help but feel guilty.

~~~~~

Later that evening, you were sitting next to the fire. Javier was strumming at his guitar--not in any particular rhythm, but just playing with different chords. You were waiting for Micah to return. His share was still in your tent. You had removed it from your bag and hid it in your suitcase, tucked in with your undergarments. Hopefully, if anyone went snooping, they wouldn't find it. You hadn't seen any sight of him. Your thoughts kept falling back to Dutch. He had angered you and hurt you, even though you were guilty of what he was accusing you of.

Arthur and Charles were sitting nearby, talking about a hunting trip they were going to be taking the next day. After they were done, Arthur stood to walk away, when he spotted you. He walked over, and took a seat on the ground, leaning against the log you were sitting on. "Heard the house wasn't as good as Uncle led us to believe." You began to get hot. "Dutch was telling me about it."

You snap slightly, not getting loud enough to draw any attention. "What did he tell you?"

Surprised at your reaction, Arthur studders back, "I-I don't--nothing I don't guess." He looks down, you can tell he was genuinely shocked, meaning Dutch hadn't shared his thoughts.

"I'm sorry," you say, standing up quickly and hurrying away.

"Wait," He says. "Y/N, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude." He gets up quickly and follows you to your tent. He pushes back the flap and sees you sitting on the cheap, ragged rug you have covering the dirt, leaning up against your cot. Your arms are propped on your knees and your head is leaning down towards the ground. He walks over and crouches down in front of you.

"I didn't mean to upset you, miss. You shouldn't blame yourself for a bad lead." You glance up at him.

You shake your head, "It's not that, it's just..." you pause, trying to find the best words. "I guess it's just been a weird day. Dutch just seemed upset with the take, he was expecting it to be much more as well," you lie, not wanting to admit how the conversation with Dutch had actually gone. "I just hate to let him down." You sigh.

"Now, Y/N, Dutch ain't one to hold things like that against you, you should know that. He's here to look out for us and he'll support us regardless." You can't help but think of Dutch's aggressiveness when he had grabbed your shoulder. Only you knew how much you had upset him. But that wasn't the only reason you were upset.

"Arthur?" you ask. He lifts his eyebrows in acknowledgment. "Did Micah mention any sort of 'business' he might have had to attend to? I haven't seen him since last night." You leave out the part that you couldn't even remember seeing him the night before, you're memory was still trying to find it's way back to you. "I still have his share from the job to give him." And also you wanted to give him a piece of your mind for convincing you to keep most of the take. There was no way that was actually your idea. 

"No, not really. I try my best to avoid the asshole." He chuckles. "You probably already know that though."

You smile. "Yeah, I guess so. Well, anyway, I guess I'm going to call it a night." He nods and stands up.

"I'm probably going to do the same."

You say your goodbyes and pull the flap of your tent closed. You sat down on the cot and pulled off your pants, keeping your shirt on, too exhausted to change it. You figured that you wouldn't sleep because of how worked up you had become, but once you laid down, you were out almost instantly.

~~~~~~

It was midnight when you were woken up. There were branches snapping behind your tent, almost directly next to your cot. Keeping still, you listen carefully. The steps don't belong to an animal. The steps move around your tent, coming closer to the entrance. You act fast, quietly pulling out from under the covers, you swing your feet off of the bed and hurry to grab your knife and crouch behind a chest you have placed next to the door. The steps come to a halt right outside and you hold your breath. Your tent is on the outskirts of the camp so you're easily the easiest target for wandering bandits. Or even worse, the O'Driscolls. After what felt like forever, the flap was pulled over and a man stepped in. He was wearing a leather coat you'd never seen anyone at camp wear. The collar was pulled up so you couldn't get a look at his face. He walked over to your bed and pulled the cover back. He reached down and picked up Micah's coat. 

"Anyone ever teach you that it's not okay to steal?" 

"Dammit, Micah! You need to quit scaring the shit out of me!" You say as he turns around to face you.

"You gonna answer my question?" He begins to move towards you. As you stand up he continues, "This ain't yours, dollface." He holds the coat up.

"Well you left--" He reaches forward and grabs the front of your shirt, startling you.

"You obviously don't know that if something don't belong to you, you don't take it." He pulls you forward, you're just inches from his face. "I gotta teach you a lesson; punish you for your actions."

He lets your shirt go and slides his hand up onto your neck. He's not grabbing tight, but it still takes your breath away. Your lips quiver and legs shake just slightly, but it's the reaction he was hoping for. The feelings of wanting him return instantly. You needed him.

"Now let's see," He starts, "Why don't you take that shirt of yours off, show me what you've been hiding under there."

"O-okay," you say and lift your hands, beginning the buttons from the top.

"Sir," He says.

"Huh?"

"Call me sir."

"Oh, y-yes, Sir." He nods, watching you undo the buttons on your shirt. You finish, and pull it off your shoulders and let it fall to the floor. You were wearing a worn corset underneath. He moves his hand from your neck.

"Turn," he says. You do as he says. You can still feel where his fingers were holding on your skin and you could almost beg to have them back. He undoes your corset, pulling it off and throwing it over to your bed. He runs his hands up your back, almost causing you to whimper. You have never wanted someone so bad in your life. He walks around you, standing back to get a full view of you, standing there, completely under his control. 

He steps forward, coming close to you once again. He doesn't grab you or feel you like you so badly want him to. He simply raises a hand and touches the fading bruise on your chest. "That's what you get for being so dirty, playing a little trick on me." He then moves his finger over to your other breast. There is another bruise there, a smaller, pinker one. Where did that come from?

"And that was caused by another little trick you played on me. I doubt you remember that, though. I can see the confusion on your face." He draws a line up to your neck. You gulp, and he smiles. "Tell me you're sorry and maybe I'll let you be."

You look up and him. You didn't want him to leave. You want to provoke him. "I'm not sorry, Sir. You had it coming for you."

Immediately, he grabs your jaw and pulls you closer. It hurts, but you want it. "What was that, dollface? 'Fraid I misheard you."

"You deserved everything I gave you."

"Wrong answer."

He moves your face away from him, giving him full access to your neck. He leans in and bites you. A shocked breath and whimper escape your throat. Your underwear felt drenched. You were craving him. He had broken skin and was sucking on the tender spot right above your collarbone. Your arms move up and grab onto his coat, trying to pull him closer to you. Your hips move on their own, trying to grind against him. "M-Micah," You say softly, in between gasps.

He pulls away from you and looks deep into your eyes. You notice a small bit of blood on his mustache. He reaches up, drawing a finger against his bite. It stings, but you don't notice. He has you in a trance. He pulls his finger away and licks the blood--your blood--off, smiling.

"What's the matter, doll?" He says in his deep, raspy voice. "You're trembling like crazy." He brushes his fingers up your arm.

"Micah..." you begin, except you don't know what you mean to say. Everything has caught you by surprise.

He leans in once more, whispering in your ear, "I hope you've learned your lesson." After pulling away, he turns and leaves, leaving you standing there, completely shocked and turned on. So many emotions pass through you in an instant; disappointment, happiness, sadness, and lust. But most of all, you knew that you were going to have to return the favor. Make him completely subjective to you, and then leave.

You eventually pull your shirt back on and lay down. The adrenaline begins to leave you, and you are asleep within minutes.

[deprough]

Snowballs and Saviors

11/30/2020 Dincember Prompt: Snow

My Dincember prompts are part of a serial story I’m telling. This is the first part of the story.

“What do you think, Sheriff?” 

Corrie glanced up at the tall man and pursed her lips. “I think,” she said slowly, “that we don’t have much choice.”

Kado picked up the reins of his gurt and clicked once. The wooly herbivore started forward, and Corrie’s gray gurt, Cursehead, followed before she could give the command. Through the gunship’s front windows, she saw the armored man notice them, then disappear into his ship. A second later, the ramp lowered into the snow.

As they drew closer, Corrie asked herself once again if she was really lucky enough to have a bounty hunter drop into her backyard at this exact moment. If he was who Old Relston claimed, he could be exactly the person they needed. Corrie distrusted luck like that, though, even when the man stepped into view and she admitted it was probably that guy.

“Welcome to Zalzus,” Corrie called as they came to a stop in front of the ship. “You’ve landed outside the town of Libu. I’m Sheriff Corde Melne, and this is my deputy, Kado Soummu. May I ask your business, sir?”

That black visor bounced between Kado and her a couple of times. She wondered if their knitted garments, handmade from dyed gurt wool, looked cheap and primitive to him. “Do you always greet arrivals so directly?”

“No,” Corrie said honestly, her breath frosting the air. His didn’t, which meant his helmet contained it. Bet it has environmentals in there. “But I’m hoping you’re the Mandalorian who travels with a kid.” Just saying it made her uneasy.

The man looked to the side, telegraphing irritation. What’s the point in covering your face if you don’t control your body language? she wondered. “For your sake, you’d better be offering me a job.”

“What else would we want?” Kado asked curiously; Corrie swallowed her annoyance with her underling. Kado would someday be a great cop, but he was still naive. Someday, he’d get that jaded shell he needed to be a peace officer in the Outer Rim; sadly, it might be during their current crisis.

“People want lots of things from me,” the Mandalorian stated.

“I’m sure you have your charms,” Corrie said wryly, “but I need your skills, not your vagueness. A Hutt prison ship has crashed not far from our village. The Hutt in question won’t round them up, and we’ve already had one death. You up for taking in twenty men?” 

“Can you pay me for twenty bounties?” he asked bluntly.

“No,” Corrie said. “We’ll give you what we can, about half the Guild rate per head, the full resources and support of the sheriff's office, and room and board as long as you’re working for us.”

“Who died?” the Mandalorian asked.

Corrie blinked, thrown by the sudden topic change. “Pardon?”

“You said you had a death. Who died, and how?” he asked.

Drawing a deep breath and trying to not remember the scene, she said, “My uncle, the last sheriff. Vinor Cyone. He tried to track one down. We only found his bones, but we think his spine was snapped.”

The man stilled or stiffened; Corrie couldn’t quite tell what changed about his stance, but he’d definitely had a reaction to that news. “My condolences,” he said after a moment. “How did his body decompose so quickly?”

“One of the prisoners is a Wookie. I can’t say his name right, but his nickname is Maneater.” Corrie didn’t have to say more; they all heard his sharp inhale. 

“Where am I staying?” the Mandalorian asked.

“My mother’s house,” Corrie replied, feeling relief and hope flood her. She kept her voice neutral; there’d be time for relief once he’d proven he was as good as his reputation. “She’s got space. Do you have a bike or somethin’ up on that ship?”

He didn’t, of course, and so that was how Corrie ended up with a Mandalorian sitting behind her on Curse’s fuzzy back. They weren’t quite touching, but every so often, the gurt’s sway bumped their bodies together. He did have a child with him, not that Corrie had seen much of it with the bassinet sealed against the cold. Amusingly, he had the same model she’d used, though his seemed to have some modifications.

He remained silent on the ride into town, which was fine with Corrie. She pulled her yellow scarf back up over her nose, grateful for the warmth. The kids were out, playing in the snow, and they stopped to stare as the group rode into town. “Your kids really seem to like snow,” the man said suddenly.

Corrie frowned a second before she caught his misunderstanding. “It just snowed last night. Zalzus isn’t an ice world. We have seasons. For the kids, snow means two things: fun and Lifeday is coming.”

He grunted. “Your town celebrates Lifeday,” he said flatly.

“Yep,” she said, wondering what he had against the holiday. He didn’t elaborate or ask further, and it wasn’t her business.

She stopped in front of Mom’s house, turning and offering her arm for him to dismount. He slid down as Mom stepped out, beaming. Like Corrie, she was stout and short, with gray curls instead of brown. “Welcome, sir! I’m Brama Cyone, and my home is your home. What is your name?”

“People call me Mando,” he said simply, removing his gear from Koda’s gurt. 

Wondering if he actually ever answered questions, Corrie pointed at the next building over. “That’s my house. Mom and I share the stable behind the house. One of our folks is loaning you a gurt, if you can ride.”

“I ride.” He turned to Brama. “Can I see my room now?”

“Of course!” Brama led him into the wooden two-story house. The bassinet followed him like a loyal pet.

Koda turned to her. “Wow, he’s… I don’t know. Weird.”

“He’s a man who travels the edges of civilized life making a living off people who break the law,” Corrie said, pulling her gray wool coat tighter around her. “I’d be more worried if he were normal. I’ll see him settled and meet you at the jail.” 

~  *  ~  *  ~

“-- and this is Terian Novex,” Corrie said wearily, glad they were almost through the files. Her five other deputies, even Talee, the nightwatch, had met their hunter and stayed for the briefing. Corrie pulled up the next file, scraping her fingers through her brown hair as she waited for it to load. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched their guest; he’d sat down in the wooden chair at their table. His shiny, high-tech armor looked out of place in the simple whitewashed room. It probably also kept him warmer than the rest of them; the Jail’s single pane windows leaked the heat from the stove.

The click of knitting needles and carding wool filled the room’s silence as they waited for the ancient holo projector to render the image. Corrie had considered asking her deputies to not work on their side projects, but dismissed the idea. If Mando was uncomfortable, he could speak up and ask them to stop. A grainy image of the Zabrax woman appeared on the holo and Corrie started again. “She’s a hitman for a rival Hutt--”

“Half of these bounties are,” Mando sighed. He sounded tired, which was somewhat gratifying. 

“Hey, does your kid want to go outside and play?” Koda asked, drawing attention back to the bassinet. The alien child inside stared hopefully out the window, watching the other children at play behind the jail. As if sensing their attention, he turned and looked at them. All ears and eyes, Corrie thought again. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Mando said, sounding nervous.

“It’s safe,” Corrie said.

“Where I go, he goes.” 

“Poor guy,” she said, without thinking, and sure enough, their guest visibly bristled. “Calm down, I mean he wants to play, and we have a bit more work. Hold on.” She went to the backdoor and opened it. “Nuia!” she bellowed, and the girl turned and trotted through the snow toward them.

The sturdy teen stomped off her boots and came in. “Yes, sheriff?” she asked, but her eyes had already fallen on the baby and a besotted smile crossed her face. She waved at the baby, who stared at her, then waved back.

“Can you take the little one outside? Keep an eye on him but let him play with the tots?” she asked.

“I’d love to--”

“Where I go, he goes,” Mando interrupted. 

Corrie turned to him. “Then go play.” 

His head pulled back. “What?” Her deputies, used to her way of doing things, grinned and rose to stretch and get hot drinks.

“He’s a kid. He’s bored stupid here with us. So if the only way he gets to play is if you play with him, then go play.” Corrie waved her hand toward the door. “I need a break, and maybe you’ll realize by the end of it that we need you more than you need us, and we’ll protect you little one like our own.”

“You have children?” he asked. 

“We all do. I personally have two. Raina’s playing with the tots and Lonneric's probably in a snow fort ambusing the other warriors-in-the-making.” Corrie waved again. “Just go.” 

She feigned indifference until he was outside; then all seven of them crept to the window to watch. Mando stood outside stiffly, watching his little green child helping the baker’s daughter build a lopsided snow tower. “He’s hopeless,” Koda finally said. “Stiff as rock.”

“Yep.” Corrie pulled on her coat, gloves, and boots again. 

“Whatcha doin’?” Kend asked, his playful grin telling her he already knew.

“Just checking on things,” she said innocently as she slipped out the front door, pulling on her woolen hat. She eased around the side of the building, scooping up two handfuls of snow and pressing them into a ball. 

It was perfect -- heavy and wet without being drippy, compacting into a nice ball in her gloves. She peered around the corner, pleased to see his back toward her. She glanced at the window to see Koda shaking his head in bemusement. 

More than a few of the kids had seen her; Lonneric had already followed her lead, starting to make snowballs as fast as he could instead of throwing them as soon as they were complete. 

The kids staring at her gave him warning, and he half-turned toward her. Recognizing her window of opportunity closing, she threw the ball at his helmet. It wasn’t the best example for the children, but if you wore a helmet to a snowball fight, you were asking for headshots, in her book. 

She hit her mark, smearing white powder over the side of his head. He jumped and spun, hand on his blaster and for a second, she thought she’d made a terrible mistake. Lonneric had already followed her lead, and this blow hit his chest. Mando let go of his blaster, and Corrie relaxed, even as she scooped up more snow. “No,” he told her firmly, “don--”

One of the Kelshin twins nailed him in the face, and then Mando was at the heart of a flurry of snowballs. He put his hands up and crouched, but didn’t seem to know how to react to the kids pelting him. 

A snowball nailed her, and Corrie shrieked playfully. “Traitors!” she shouted as she also became a target. Her own son hit her next with a loose ball that exploded across her shoulder.

“Down with the adults!” Lonneric shouted, and the battle cry echoed across the field. 

Laughing, Corrie fought her way to Mando’s side. “C’mon!” she cried, pulling on his arm. “Run!”

After a moment of hesitation, he followed, stumbling after her to the back door of the jail. They staggered inside in a rain of balls, then pushed the door shut sharply. A few more snowballs hammered the door; then they could hear the children cheering. 

Corrie straightened up and pulled off her wet gloves. She looked at Mando and laughed. “You look like a snowman decided to become a Mandalorian.”

He looked down at himself; the snow had stuck to his clothing but not his silver armor. “You look like an insane woman who just got into a snowball fight with kids,” he said sharply.

Corrie held her smile with effort as she shed her hat and scarf. “Yeah, but I bet you’re ready to work again.”

He didn’t answer her, and as she hung up her outwear, she continued, “We were talking about Terian Novex--”

This was going to be a long partnership, but she didn’t regret dragging him into the snowball fight. They’d both needed it.

[mysecretatticsstuff]

No regrets.

Word count: I have no clue. Lol.

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Smut.

Okay so this is the first piece that i'm posting here. FINALLY. I hope i'll continue in the future. I was too lazy to proof read. I hope you enjoy. Like and reblog folks. :)

_____________________________________________

You were dressed comfy, sprawled out on the couch. It was your night today. Finally after a month of hard core work you finally got some free time and you were not ready to waste this weekend. For this occasion, you planned a movie marathon and to eat some of your favourite comfort food.

You were happily watching the 2nd thriller of the night when someone knocked on the door. You cursed the bad timing and went for the door. You were in such a hurry that you didn't even consider to check through the peep hole. Upon opening the door, you find a pair of dimples happily displayed to you.

"Namjoon!?" You said.

"Hi" he chirped.

Namjoon was your colleague. Head of the department of anaesthesia at the best hospital in your city. You were his subordinate. He was the youngest to crack the interview for the post. You joined the department a year later. At first it was a bit rusty between you two. Both held pride in landing in the job only people past there 40s do. There were no visible clashes of course. Both of you were professional enough but the tension was definitely there for you to feel. Plus, let's just say, that the situation would be 100 times better if namjoon wasn't as handsome as he actually was. He was a giant. Tall, honey toned skin, caramel blonde highlights in his hair, muscular in built. These features made him look like a greek God. From the inside tho Namjoon was shy to open up to people, had the sweetest smile, was caring, a whole gentlemen. It took some time for both of you to be comfortable with each other, but eventually you made a great team. He started opening up to you, even teased you when the situation demands.

And now he was standing outside of your apartment. You were wearing a plain white tee and the shortest shorts you owned. You couldn't help but notice how his eyes went straight to your legs after his greeting. He was wearing a pair of light blue ripped jeans and a plain black t-shirt. And to be honest you couldn't help but stare at him. Why the hell does he look so good in just jeans and a t shirt?. Maybe you were too used to formals at the hospital. Eventually you spoke up , "Is everything alright? Is there an emergency?"

He raised his eyebrows, "Oh no no, I was just passing by the area, thought i'd say hi, and eat some food together." He revealed two bags that he hid behind his back. Realising how weird it sounds he added, "Also I needed to talk to you about today's case".

"Oh, yeah sure. Come in please" you invited him inside. As he entered, you suddenly became 10 times more conscious about your apartment. You mentally tried to remember any embarrassing things that needed to be hidden.

Inside, he looked around, and maybe realized that you were quite enjoying your girl night in. "Hey, I hope i didn't ruin your night. You have been working really hard for the past month."

"Nooo.. i'm glad.. i mean.. it's not an inconvenience at all." You realized, your cheeks felt warm, your ears have probably turned red too. Shit.

It's not the first time, Namjoon was in your apartment. Usually your apartment was the pit stop where you'd discuss important cases in advance. It was convenient because it is on the way to Namjoon's place and it was close to the hospital.

You quickly made space on the couch, "Here, sit"

Namjoon places the bags of food on the kitchen counter and then plops down on the couch. His eyes wander around the apartment. Finally resting on the TV screen.

"Whatcha watch'n?"

"Gone girl" you said, trying to hide the excitement. You were a movie buff. And this movie was based on a book which you had read and enjoyed. Even better.

"Ahh.. interesting.. i loved it" he smiled warmly, eyes turning into crescents.

"Oh yeah, it's thrilling... Umm.. Do you mind watching it again? We can eat first and then discuss the case"

"Sure, I don't mind at all"

"Okay then, let me bring the food here" you practically hopped to the counter.

Both of you cozied up on the couch with a blanket. You were careful to maintain a decent amount of space between you and Namjoon. Although you didn't know why you suddenly started feeling hot. Around 15 minutes later, you were half done with your food. Throughout this time, you kept sneaking glances at namjoon.

Was his jawline this sharp all the time? That black t shirt clings to his body so well. You could imagine the all the rippling muscles underneath. He was lazily chewing, watching with interest. He was wearing hoop earrings today. You did notice his piercings before but he never wore jewelry to clinics. He dressed so casual today yet he was looking like a snack. You realised you were pressing your thighs together. Gosh this is going to be tougher than you thought.

Before you could come out of the stance. Namjoon glanced towards you. He raises his eyebrows.

"Like what you see y/n?" He smirks. He fucking smirks. As if you weren't flushed enough. You were sure you looked like a red owl right now.

"Huh.. o..oh it.. are you done?" You stutter. Shit.

He was about to say something when the room was filled with sounds of lips smacking, loud moans and heavy pants. Both of you looked at the screen... You could see the ecstasy that was happening in the movie.

The situation has now entered a whole new level of awkward. You cross your legs to get some relief. He cleared his throat. You finally look at him, only to find him already looking at you. The expression he has on is quite a visual to look. Eyes dark, as if he wants to devour you right there. You squirmed under his gaze. The tension was too much, the room felt hot. Non of you spoke. You rise from your seat, go near him. You finally break eye contact to pick up his bowl. You don't know what made you so bold, you won't deny you're a little frustrated. The tension between the two of you is getting unbearable. So you bend down, in your loose v neck tee giving him a full view of whats underneath.

He clenches his jaw. Exhales loudly. His eyes going just where you thought it would. He is not trying to hide his intentions either. He grips your hand midway, jerks you towards him. You totally loose balance, and slam straight into his chest. You can feel his muscles, firm, body hot, he smells rustic.

"God, you're driving me crazy". His hands grip your waist firmly.

You could not form any words for a reply, your heart was hammering out of your chest. So you just stared at him. He chuckles slightly and bends down to your ear and wispers, voice falling several octaves. "If you want me to stop, say it now, because I don't think I can hold back any longer with the position you've got me in." You have been dreaming about him for months, clinics were becoming a torture. You thought it's a silly crush but the tension between you two just kept on growing. Somewhere in your mind you knew he felt the tension too. But he never showed a sign. You felt like your body was going to catch fire. You finally mustered out some courage and pressed yourself into him, arms crossing back on his neck, "You think I want you to stop?"

You feel his member getting hard on your front. He curses to himself, and in a blink his lips are on you. You couldn't help but moan in response. His hands travels down from your waist to your hips finally landing on your behind. His lips are plush and It seems like he knows what he is doing. God he is a good kisser. So good that you think he must have had a lot of practice. That thought quickly goes away because of how he starts squeezing your bum. Massaging and pressing your front onto his hardness. You know you're fucked when you feel yourself getting weak in the knees just with a short kissing session. You both pull apart for a while. He looks at you, eyes blown out with lust. "I've been thinking about this for so long now. Seeing you in clinics was getting harder day by day, you don't know how many times i'd mentally strip your clothes off."

You bit your lip, Kim Namjoon the hottest guy you know imagines stripping your clothes off. So all this time, you weren't wrong. He did look at you differently in clinics, eyeing you from top to toe when he thinks you weren't paying attention. Sneaking glances at you thinking you were in deep thoughts in a patient's file. You smirk at this. Wasting no time you crashed your lips against his. This time the kiss was urgent, filled with desire. He showed no softness either. You took one of his hands, slipped it under your tee.

You got goose bumps at his touch. His hand snaked around to your back, finding their way to the hook of your bra. He unclasped it in one swift go. You need to question him sometime about the unpopular skills he got. He didn't waste time after that, feverishly bring his hand to your chest. Stopping a little at your underboob, you moaned in his mouth. That was all he needed to fully grasp your boob. He growled low in his throat groping at your softness. He played with your nipple, making it hard. Just when you thought it cannot get any hotter. He gripped your tee with both hands and pulled it up over your head and finally let it drop. He stopped kissing you and his heated gaze fell at your nakedness. There you stand with just your shorts, totally wet for a man who hasn't even shed a single piece of his clothing. By reflex you cross your arms to cover yourself. He senses your discomfort, "Baby, you're beautiful, don't hide yourself please". With this he lifts you off the ground, your legs wrap around his waist and then he takes you to your bedroom, just like that staring into your eyes. You show him the room, and he places you down at the edge of your bed. Now it's your turn, you start stripping him. His t shirt at first, you wait after he is bare chested to just admire his body. You knew he works out, it was pretty obvious by how his shirts hugs his broad chest. Your mouth waters at the honey toned skin gleaming at you.

"Enjoying the view sweetheart?" He tilts his head. He knows he has got you in all the right places. That cocky bastard. You step away, slowly lower your self onto the bed, and scoot towards the headboard. "You know, if I had known you were eye fucking me this entire time, we could have done this sooner" you said, with your confidence growing.

"Now don't act all coy y/n. I've noticed how you have been squeezing your thighs when we are alone." "I'm sure you get off by thinking about me. Ain't that true?".

He unbuttoned his jeans, slowly stripping it off. Your heart was racing, butterflies raging in your stomach. You would be lying if this wasn't thrilling. The moment Namjoon was in his boxers, your eyes went straight onto his member. Specifically to how hard he was. With what your seeing, you can tell he is big. Overall Namjoon was even sexier than you had imagined. Thick thighs with muscles flexing at every move, broad chest with honey skin, arms with his veins popping. You started imagining how this man could ruin you.

You didn't realize that you were speechless at his words. He slowly crawled towards you, face inches away. His body caging you.

"I asked you a question y/n" he kissed you briefly.

"Yes" you answered.

"Yes, what?"

Is he really asking that? You're already knees deep in shame. You're sure you look like a tomato. All the boldness that you showed was gone now. And the sweet shy Namjoon was also gone. He was talking dirty, with dominance, jaw clenched and it was making you dizzy.

"Answer me, or i'm gonna leave"

"Yes, I get off by thinking about you,.. about this" you covered your face with your hands unable to look at him anymore.

He chuckled, "Hey, you don't need to be ashamed" he took both of your hands, wrist crossed and held them above your head. "Besides, since you confessed, i'd like to make you cum, sweetheart". He pecked you on your lips as his hands went straight down, and held your aching core. You moaned at this but bit your lip to hold it back.

"Don't hold back, i want to hear you scream my name" he commanded. He palmed your clothed core, earning a string of delicious curses and moans in response.

"So fucking responsive, and I haven't even started" he half grunted. The fact that he was restraining your hands above his head was making this 100 times more stimulating. You were rutting your hips against his palm. It seems like you both found a rhythm, untill he suddenly stopped.

"Uggh... Namjoon,. Don't stop please." You were squirming. He let go of your hands, propping himself on his elbows he started ravishing your neck. Gosh you were sure to get marks tomorrow. With your hands free, you starting letting them roam on his body. You gripped his hair, and he let out a groan. So he likes it rough you thought. The other hand was caressing his back. He slowly went down with his wet kisses, and you felt your stomach tense. He sensed this.

He look up from the bands of your shorts, as if he was asking for permission. You made a little nod. He grinned devilishly. How were you supposed to live after this? He slowly pulled down your shorts, removing your underwear with it. You closed your legs with instinct.

"It's okay beautiful, open up. Let me see that pretty cunt of yours". Those word worked like magic and went straight to your core. You moaned. He seperated your legs. For a moment you got panicked. What is he doing?

"So fucking wet already, all for me" he grasped both of your legs pulled you down and let a breathe out near your core. You squeaked, you could feel the coolness of his breath and it was a sharp contrast to how hot and bothered your core was. Honestly at this point you wear so desperate for some relief. He had been teasing your ass for a long time now and you were getting impatient.

"Stop fucking teasing Namjoon, i swear if you don't do something now, i'm gonna get off by myself! " You shouted.

"Uff,... Needy much?" He smirked. You looked down to see how much he was enjoying this. With this, he licked a broad strip over you and you clenched in air.

Namjoon's tongue was heaven. No man had ever made you feel like he did. He knew exactly what you wanted and when you wanted. He held a vicious grip on your hips and he was showing no mercy. He ate you out like a starved man and you were near the edge in minutes.

"Oh. God.. N.. namjoon.. i'm gonna cum" you gripped the sheet with all your strength.

He saw that you were falling apart too quickly and then he stopped. You were furious. Almost at the brim of crying. Edging you like that. What the fuck was he even thinking.

You looked at him, anger flaring, "What the FUCK?" You were so worked up at this point that you couldn't even speak. You just look at him, tears about to spill.

He reached up to your lips and kissed you.

"This is payback baby, for all the times you left me hot and bothered, those little glances of yours. A touch here or there pretending them to be mistakes" You could not believe this. This man is pure evil. No! This man is Satan himself.

You were about to cry when, he started sucking your neck and he inserted two fingers inside you. You were wet beyond belief. And he loved that this was because of him. Then he started a mercy less rhythm with his fingers. You find yourself clenching again. The tension building up slowly. He then added his thumb, the pressure on your now sensitive bud was electrifying. It was all you needed.

You held his shoulders with such a grip that you were sure he would have bruises after this. He kissed you sloppily.

"Y/n look at me when you cum!" He growls.

You try your best to look at him. "Fuck, Joon,. I'm.. it's so intense.. ugghhh".

And you came crashing down. Your body quivering. Tears spilling out of pleasure. You almost black out at the end. Namjoon kept fingering you throughout your high.

You went limp after that. Panting heavily.

You don't know how long you've been like that but when you finally stir up, you see namjoon watching you contently, propped up on one hand. Your eyes make contact. He is still sweaty from the intimate activity you guys pulled through.

"Hi", you finally said breaking the silence.

"Hey" he replied back, smiling genuinely, dimples on display.

"Well umm.. i.. it was.." you didn't get to complete the sentence when he added. "Hot...... Y/n, it was hot".

You felt your blush creeping up. But suddenly you realised that he must have not finished by himself. You quickly grabbed him by his neck, one hand snaking down to his hardness, "Let me return the favour, yeah?" You said. He was rock hard, you couldn't believe how the heck was he controling himself. So you did what you could. You started stroking him, gathering some of the precum to coat his thickness.

"Jeez, y/n... Just like that baby". He was hot, so fucking hot that you could come all over again, just by looking at him.

He kept making these low grunts. Whispering some sweet profanities into your ear. It turned you on even more, you always saw his professional side. But this was something else. He was thrusting in your hand, his hand was digging on your hips. You were sure they will be purple by tomorrow but you didn't care. Seeing Namjoon loosing his control was one of the hottest things you witnessed.

"Y/n, I'm... I'm going to cum.. Aggh"

"Come for me joon" he didn't need to be told twice. He came hard, blowing his load on your hand and probably on your bed. He covered his face with his arm, panting like he just ran a marathon. You grabbed some tissue to clean him up.

You were totally silent after that, your mind running to and fro thinking about what you both had done. You can't deny the fact that it was hot, and if situation demands, you'll probably do it again. Namjoon finally was breathing normally. He sensed your discomfort and slowly spoke, "y/n..?"

Your heart was pounding, your stomach clenching "Yeah?"

"I want you to know, I don't regret any bit of what happened between us today". He turned his head to look at you, eyes soft. You were surprised by his confession, remembering how professional he was plus with his politeness whenever he talked to you, you were half expecting him to say it was a mistake. You must have been silent for a little too long, eyes mildly wide with, shock? regret?, He couldn't read, he said, "Say something please, the silence is killing me"

Your heart was pounding frantically right now, but now your stomach was filled with butterflies. You snaked your hand with his, interlinking your fingers. To this he gasped. "I really like you", you blurt out.

Namjoon lets out a nervous laugh, then he visibly relaxes, "Well that was definitely unexpected. Y/n if you haven't noticed till now, I REALLY like you too. Hence.. this" He pretends to be thinking seriously. You roll your eyes, then turn towards him, "So what now?"

"Will you go out on a date with me y/l/n?"

You blush at this. "Yes" you say. He smiles, dimples on display.

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - Worth It

My half of an art-trade with @calista-222. I hope you like it! They were cool with pretty much anything but then suggested a Stan O’ War fic and I just had to go for it! I love seeing how the Kings of the Sea are doing out on their dream boat!

If any of you are interested in an art-trade, hit me up! More information can be found here!

~~~~~~~~~~

Stan opened his eyes, but it took him a minute or two to truly wake up, and then a few more minutes to figure out what woke him. His back was sore, but that wasn’t what pulled him from his slumber. There was no disturbing light or sounds. No storm that rocked the boat and no sense of incoming danger.

An echo of voices. It wasn’t fair to call it a nightmare, because there was no “plot” and no real fear, just a lurching feeling that something was wrong, a deja vu feeling from the end of summer.

“It’s me! Grunkle Stan, it’s me!”

“It’s all gone.”

“I KNOW my grunkle is in there somewhere!”

“Stan has no idea, but he did it. He saved the world. He saved me.”

“We saved the world, but what’s the point?”

“... you’re our hero, Stanley.”

Stan sighed to himself. Many other voices had plagued his sleep, but those stuck out. He can still remember what he was thinking and feeling that day. First, confusion. Just mild confusion with no real panic. Then a bizarre what-did-I-walk-into feeling, like he was invading something private. When the stranger in the suit hugged him he automatically felt compelled to do something, but he had no idea what and no one was asking him to do anything. That wasn’t true; they were begging him to remember. But remember what? Did he forget something important, like an item at the grocery store, or a task he had to accomplish? It didn’t seem likely, all he really knew was his own name, and that was only because everyone around him called him that. Then when they were in the house he finally felt comfortable, the first real feeling like he belonged, and then right before Waddles jumped on him he had a strong sense of regret, but for what? 

It was no wonder that by the end of the day he was exhausted and fell asleep with his family clinging onto that old armchair. Forget fighting an unholy demon, that rollercoaster of emotions was enough to knock anyone out cold for days.

Stan, now fully recovered and with all of his memories (all of the important ones, anyways), still occasionally had to live with the consequences of his actions, like unpeaceful night of sleep and the sickening feeling that his family’s suffering was partly his fault. Sure, Sixer made a deal with the triangle in the first place, and yes Mabel traded the rift away, and yeah okay Stan only agreed to it because he believe it was the only way (and because it was just too easy), but the fact that he caused those kids and his brother so much pain really stinks.

Oh well. What was it that Ma used to say? No use crying over spilt milk? Hm, milk. Stan threw off his covers and decided to get up and have a midnight snack. He popped his back and then glanced up at the bunk bed above him, then shook his head when he found the bed empty; Ford was elsewhere on the Stan O’ War II. Stan slipped on his slippers and pulled on his robe before leaving the small bedroom for the main area on the boat, the living room, dining room, and kitchen all in one small, confined space. 

Sure enough, sitting at the dining table with books and journals before him was his nerdy twin brother, with an empty cup of joe by his side. Most of the light came from the moon outside, leaking in through a window, and a bright lantern on the table. Ford looked up at him and gave him a concerned look. “Everything alright, Stanley?”

The old conman shook his head. “Yeah, just gettin’ a midnight snack.” He opened the fridge and grabbed the carton of milk, checking to make sure it was still fine to use before fishing out the pot to heat it up. “Want some warm milk?”

“Thank you, but no thank you. I’m in the middle of a good train of thought and I would rather not disturb it with drowsiness that would lead to sleep.”

“Geez, Poindexter, you do know that humans need sleep to, I dunno, not end up dead, right?”

Ford chuckled and wrote something down in his journal. “Yes, I know. I swear, once I finish this I’ll go to bed.”

Stan just smiled and whisked the milk in the pot. “Fine, whatever. But if I have to pull your sorry butt outta the Arctic ocean again, you’re gonna…” The younger twin was interrupted by a distant cellphone ringing, a cheerful tune. He hurried back to the bedroom with his brother closely behind him. It sounded like Mabel was calling and she might need help. Just in time, Stan picked up his phone from the nightstand and answered it, putting it on speaker so Ford could listen. “Mabel, pumpkin?”

“Hi, Grunkle Stan!” Her cheerful voice rang.

Stan could breathe a little easier. He and Ford heard from those kids at least three times a day via text messages, e-mails, and phone calls, but usually their calls weren’t at three in the morning. “Hey there, sweetie. Whatcha up to?”

“Nothing, just missed my favorite old guys in the whole world.” Mabel said, and it sounded like she was being honest. No nightmares and she needed counselling, no bad boys giving her grief, no girls making fun of her. She truly was calling just to call.

“We missed you too, pumpkin.”

“Hello there, Mabel.” Ford called as they walked back to the main room to make sure the milk wouldn’t burn. “Did you have a good day?”

“Yeah! Waddles got to come to school today! My art classes needed a good muse and I volunteered Waddles! He got to roll around in front of the whole class and just be cute while he painted and sketched or whatever everyone felt like doing, and he loved it! Our teacher even gave him potatoes! He had so much fun!”

“Course that fat, naked jerk would love all that extra attention.” Stan sneered as he whisked some honey into the milk. “How’s your folks liking him?”

“Dad loves him! Says he makes the perfect football-buddy! Mom was unsure about him at first, but now he follows her around and she likes him enough. Kinda like someone else I know who claims to hate him but actually really really loved him.”

“No idea what you’re talking about. How are your parents?”

“They’re fine. Busy. Dad’s working on this new TV show about a boy with magical powers and alien stepmoms, and Mom’s really busy at the hospital. It’s mostly been Dip-Dip and I and Waddles here.”

“Mabel!” A voice interrupted her from afar. “Do you know what time it is?!”

“It’s only seven, Dipper, relax.”

“That means it’s three in the morning for them!”

Mabel gasped as she realized her mistake. “I thought you said eight hours back, not forward! I’m sorry, guys!” She said to her great-uncles. “I’m sorry I woke you up!” She was worried that she had scared them or had bothered them from a goodnight’s sleep.

“Nah, we were awake, sweetie, don’t worry about it.” Stan reassured her. “Don’t you ever apologize for calling, okay? I’m always happy to hear from you, no matter what time of day.”

“Well, okay. If you're sure.”

“We’re sure, my dear.” Ford added. “Is your brother there?”

“Yeah! Hold on… DIPPIN’ SAUCE!” It sounded like Mabel was running towards him and soon her end of the line was on speaker, too.

“Hey guys, sorry, I told Mabel…”

“Dipper, get off her back.” Stan chuckled. “It’s like I told her, I don’t want any of you little gremlins to ever say sorry for calling, okay?”

Dipper was grateful that his uncles couldn’t see his reddening face. “Okay. So… uh, how was Galway?”

“Oh, it was beautiful!” Ford answered; he took the phone from Stan so he could work on the milk safely and he sat at the table. “You kids would have found it breathtaking! The architecture of the town was gorgeous…”

“The Galway Girls were prettier.” Stan added in.

Ford chuckled. “Yes, apparently Stan managed to charm a handful of ladies there, one inn-keeper in particular took a fancy to him.”

“Took a fancy, what year is it, ya nerd, 1886?”

The kids laughed at the other end. “Did you find any selkies or mermaids?” Mabel asked; ever since Ford told her about selkies she had her heart set on seeing one.

“No, not yet.” Ford said. “But I promise that when we meet one we will let you know.”

“Do you honestly think selkies are real?” Dipper asked. “I mean they’re not like sirens or any other species that has been discovered; it’s a species entirely dependent on magic.”

“Magic is nothing more than science we can’t explain, Dipper. I’m sure that there is, at least, a possibility of selkies existing. Now, a bit off topic perhaps, but tell us about the robotic club. You said you’re working on a recreation of an old robot from an 80s movie?”

Dipper and Mabel happily chatted about their day while their uncles listened. Stan, a few minutes later was leaning against the counter with a mug of warm milk in his hands. He sipped his beverage as he watched Ford listen attentively, the phone on the table, the picture of Mabel and Dipper lighting up the tiny screen. Despite everything, Stan smiled contently, knowing that if he had to do it all over again he would.

[antecedentlypod]

EPISODE 5 TRANSCRIPT

[OPENING MUSIC]

[FISH LAUGHS EXCITEDLY]

FISH

I think that today, I will cause problems on purpose! 

Ummmm… Okay. [unintelligible muttering] Uh—here we go. [she clears her throat] I don’t… remember how he does his intro.

[Clearly and with intent] Siren’s Song.

FISH (STORY)

Your name is Harmony. A bit on the nose, maybe, you like it just fine. After all, you picked it out yourself, didn’t you? Yes, because before it had been Piper, and Jane before that, and Cicily before it was anything else at all. And now, you’re Harmony, and the lights are bright downtown and you are so very far from home. Do you miss the sea? Do you miss the biting air and the feel of the salt embedding itself beneath your skin until you can’t tell the difference between it and your veins? Of course, you do. But most of all, you miss a good and proper meal.

Your name is Harmony, and you are dancing until your feet ache. You can’t remember the name of the club, just that the music is loud and you know the girls on stage. They smile back at you and for a moment, under the strobe light that matches the pounding in your head, you can nearly see the gills or the flash of a feather. And faintly, beneath the base and the shouting, you can hear them sing along.

Their name is Adah. They’re dancing alongside you, against you, everywhere. They grin and ask something you can’t quite hear over the music but you nod anyway. You can tell they’re the sort of folk that’s there most nights and they’ve coated their face in wonderful, pink glitter. They’re swaying and jumping along to the music perfectly in sync with the way it’s entranced them. It’s then that you know exactly what they’d asked for when you reach into your back pocket and slip out a little tab. It’s got something or another printed on it you don’t remember. It’s whatever they want it to be. They laugh and stick out their tongue when they see it and you shake your head, and you lead them to the bathroom. They skip behind you and keep a hand on your waist the whole way down. They don’t seem to notice how boney it’s become. 

You come out of the bathroom Adah-less and pleased. Your hunger is quenched for the time being, although you do feel awfully sorry for whoever wanders in there next. You let the tab sit on your own tongue, and then you’re off again, waiting for someone to get just this side of too close. You rather like it at the clubs and cabarets—easy pray and all, but it isn’t long before the inky black floods the streets and you decide that that’s much more their playground than yours.

And so, his name is Markus. He plays the guitar, albeit rather poorly, and he sings with confidence rather than skill. You found a flyer for his show on a telephone pole in the city, and you talked to him at the small merch stand afterward. Markus… Markus wants to be a star.

So, your name is Harmony and suddenly, you’re an agent.

He shakes your hand with a broad grin and babbles about how excited he is to be working with you. You invite him over to talk business and he agrees to Wednesday afternoon after his shift at a nearby sandwich shop. He doesn’t notice when you lick your lips in excitement. Days come and go, but nothing really matters but the approaching promise of company. Wednesday comes slowly like a watched pot, but still; there’s a knock at your door. He stands beaming and clutching a tattered guitar case, shifting feet before the porch while he goes on and on about his day and such. You aren’t really listening, 

“Enough chit-chat,” you tell him, “let’s get to it then.” So you clear your throat, and then you’re singing the sweetest song he’s ever heard. “All you have to do is sign right here and I can make all your dreams come true, Mr. Cunningham. I can put a good word in with the right people, I can get your name out there. Really, it won’t be long before everyone knows your name. And that’s what you want, isn’t it? 

“Aw, poor Markus, no one’s ever known your name, have they? Even your father called you champ when he forgot. Last picked in gym, always having to partner up with the teacher, or making a group of three with best friends that glare at you what you do a bulk of the project. Not anymore. They’ll be in the front row at your concert. Screaming your name. I can make you a God.”

That’s more than enough to get him inside, that lovely glazed look in his eye all the way up the steps. You’re on him before the door is even fully shut. Teeth meet flesh and tear like scissors through wrapping paper, the hope in his blood making it taste that much sweeter. Your wings unfold and lift you high enough to descend upon his face, gnawing it down to bone and relishing the way his tongue slides whole down your throat. After some short time, The bones of Markus Cunningham lay licked clean and dry on the floor of this months’ home. 

You really ought to stop making such a mess.

Your name is Harmony and this month, you’re a defense attorney. You’ve never been very good at arguing, but persuasion happens to be your specialty. Lace that sweet sing-song into your words and any jury will fall at your feet. And you’re paid quite well too. You like to pick up the tough cases, the real irredeemable scumbags. “I’ll get you off scott-free,” you tell them, “You know how many cases I’ve lost? None. Lower than anything, yeah? I do my job right well sir, you trust that.”

So this month’s name is Blake McFarlin, she held a family at gunpoint for some debt the father owed, money they didn’t have, and she shot the little one dead. All evidence points to her, she cleans up about as well as you do. The best part is, she doesn’t seem to think she did anything wrong. And, in no time, you’ve got the jury convinced of the very same. The judge lets her go with a couple years parole and she’s clinging to your arm, crying, thanking you. You smile at her, and you say “Of course, doll. Now say I buy you a drink, huh? To celebrate?” She nods into your sleeve and you take separate cars to a bar a few blocks over. You’ve got the photos of that poor little kid in the testimonies of her weeping parents in your head the whole way over. You’ve only just barely dragged her into the back alley before you’re ripping her apart. It feels… right. It feels just to get her that close to freedom and take it all away.  You hope that little girl knows this monster got what was coming to her. Her vocal cords are stuck between your teeth like floss before she can scream for help, her arms and mangled hands are waving frantically around for purchase, finding nothing but your bared, sharp shoulders and kicking at your legs long off the ground. You lick your lips clean and let her fall to the ground almost lifeless. You snap her legs, toothpicks between your taloned feet, and you leave her there to bleed the rest of the way out. She doesn’t deserve to go out clean and quick. 

Your name is Harmony. You sit in your office chair throne at the tippy-top of a many-leveled building that towers over the people that walk beneath it. Beneath you. It’s been an endless food chain of prophet and the profited, and you fancy yourself the apex predator. There’s not a thing in this world your money can’t buy. And yet, it’s never quite enough. Tear down these apartments, pave this forest, drain them all dry of pennies and dimes, and the blood on their bones. Sing them sweet on fortune and fame and toss them when you’re done gorging yourself on all they have to offer. It’s not quite the sea but, times change. And sometimes, for the better.

You aren’t sure of the last time you met hunger, but satisfaction begins to bore you. And you find that you so desperately crave the hunt. And so you tear that castle of exploit and exploited down to rubble from top to bottom and you set off to the next city, the next country, the next chorus, the next meal. 

Your name is Harmony, but it isn’t is it? No, your name is something pitchy that leaves a burn on the tongue of those unfortunate enough to speak it. But don’t let that stop you, you’re getting awful… hungry.

The end.

[FISH BREATHES HEAVILY IN HORROR, A DOOR OPENS]

LORRIE

Hey, uhhh, whatcha doin’ there Fishy?

FISH

[obviously horrified] Um… I, I, uh, I was just… Y'know, um, fucking around? [nervous laugh] I was just um, I dunno poking a little fun at you? Y’know, like a little sibling does, but, um, what the fuck is up with this story? I-is this a joke? I mean, it was marked in your book. I wanted to see what it was all about so I just kin—I just kinda read it? This is the shit you’ve been reading? The one I sat in for was, like, totally fine! But this? 

LORRIE

[guiltily] Uh, yeah. Yep, I—I know. Some of them are… really off-putting— 

FISH

[duh, but make it scared] Yeah.

LORRIE

That’s… That’s one of the reasons I, uh, I kicked you out the other day. I read all the stories before I record them just to like, get them in my head and get ready for them, and I knew that second one was weird? I didn’t want… you to have to listen to me read it. I kinda go into a, uh, like a uh, uh, a trance? Sort of? When I read.

[FISH SCOFFS QUIETLY]

FISH

[appalled] You… you don’t think it’s a little weird? That your children's audiobook company or whatever is sending you shit like this? What—what do you even know about them beyond the name on your paycheck? This is—this is fucked up!

LORRIE

[dismissive] Mhh, I-I mean they’re weird but that’s what they sent me! They just send me the story numbers for this month, y’know, and then I record them, send them off, and I get paid. I don’t particularly care what happens after that.

FISH

[angrily] Yeah. You get paid. Lorrie? Bubba? This story is basically some twisted, gory version of the truth of late-stage capitalism? The world? I dunno—this isn’t a fucking kids story is what it is. 

LORRIE

None of them really are! What else did you expect? Like, hell, The Devil’s Sooty Brother, does that sound like a kid’s story to you?

FISH

I-I dunno! It’s not this! I-I just, I thought you were reading, fuckin, Goldilocks, or something! Not, like… gore...dielocks? I just—Listen, I—this is giving me really bad vibes, like intensely bad. Like, horrible, money-grubbing, child-traumatizing vibes. There’s gotta be other jobs out there.

LORRIE

[a bit fed up] There are other jobs out there! I like this one! I don’t have to leave the house, or like, talk with anyone, and I get to hang out with our dog all day. The story contents don’t exactly bother me much.

Why do they bother you so much?

FISH

I… I dunno. I don’t usually get scared easily it’s just—it’s not right, bubs. It’s not fucking right. Something weird is going on here and you’re just ignoring it! What if you’re getting tangled up with something… I dunno something really, really bad? I don’t know what I would do if you… [Lorrie sighs]. You really don’t see anything wrong with this?

LORRIE

[struggling] I mean—I, I guess I do? I don’t fucking know! [frustrated noise] I need to record, Fish. I need some fucking peace and quiet. 

[FISH SCOFFS]

FISH

[angry disbelief] Yeah, fine. Whatever.

[FISH LEAVES THE ROOM, THERE IS A LONG TENSE SILENCE. LORRIE SIGHS]

LORRIE

[in denial] It’s fine. It’s fine! This—this isn’t that big of a deal. I’ll—[sigh] I’ll talk it out with her later, it’s fine. We always work out our little fights, I guess. Siblings fight all the time! It’s normal. Even if… you’re not related by blood.  [deep, steadying breath]

Take one of Rapunzel. [muttering] I need to find the page. [Another sigh, pages turning as Lorrie looks through the book]. Take one of Rapunzel. Read by Lorrie Ada--

[SCENE CUT]

LORRIE (CONT)

Take three—

[SCENE CUT]

LORRIE (CONT)

Take seven of Rapunzel. Read by Lorrie Adams.

LORRIE (STORY)

Once upon a time, there was a husband and wife who, for some time, had been wishing in vain for a child. Finally, the dear Lord gave them a sign of hope that their wish would be fulfilled. Now, in the back of their house, the couple had a small window that overlooked a splendid garden filled with the most beautiful flowers and herbs. The garden, however, was surrounded by a high wall and nobody dared enter it because it belonged to a sorceress who was very powerful, and feared by all. One day when the wife was standing at the window and looking down into the garden, she noticed a bed of the finest Rapunzel lettuce; the lettuce looked so fresh and green that her mouth watered and she had a great craving to eat some. Day by day this crazing increased and since she knew she could not get any, she began to waste away and look pale and miserable. Her husband became alarmed and asked, “What’s wrong with you dear wife?”

“Ah,” she responded, “I shall certainly die if I don’t get any of that Rapunzel from that garden behind our house.” Her husband, who loved her, thought ‘before I let my wife die I’ll do anything I must to make sure she gets some Rapunzel.’

That day at dusk, he climbed over the wall and into the garden of the sorceress, hastily grabbed a handful of Rapunzel, and brought them to his wife. Immediately, she made them into a salad with great zest, but the Rapunzel tasted so good to her, so very good, that her desire for them was three times greater the next day. If she were to have any peace, her husband knew he had to climb into the garden once more. So at dusk, he scaled the wall again, and just as he landed on the other side he was given a tremendous scare, for he stood face to face with the sorceress.

“How dare you climb into my garden and steal my Rapunzel like a thief!” She said with an angry look. “You’ll pay for this!” 

“Oh,” he cried, “Please let mercy prevail over justice. I did this only because I was in a predicament, my wife noticed your Rapunzel from our window and she developed such a great craving for it that she would have died if I hadn’t brought her some to eat.”  Upon hearing that, the anger of the sorceress subsided, and she said to him; “If it is truly as you say, I shall permit you to take as many Rapunzel as you’d like, but only under one condition. When your wife gives birth I must have the child. You needn’t fear about the child’s wellbeing, for I will take care of it like a mother.” In his fear, the man agreed to everything, and when his wife had the baby his sorceress appeared at once. She gave the child the name Rapunzel and took her away.

Rapunzel grew to be the most beautiful child under the sun, but when she was twelve years old the sorceress locked her in a tower in a forest. It had neither door nor stairs, only a little window high above. Whenever the sorceress wanted to get in, she would stand below and call out, “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair for me.” Rapunzel’s hair was long and radiant, as fine as spun gold. Every time she heard the voice of the sorceress, she unpinned her braids and wound them around a hook on the window. Then she let her hair drop twenty yards and the sorceress would climb up on it.  A few years later, a king’s son happened to be riding through the forest and passed by the tower. Suddenly, he heard a song so lovely that he stopped to listen. It was Rapunzel, who passed the time in her solitude by letting her sweet voice resound in the forest. The prince wanted to climb up to her, and he looked for a door but could not find one. So he rode home. However, the song had touched his heart so deeply that he rode out into the forest every day and listened. One time as he was standing behind a tree, he saw the sorceress approach and heard her call out;

“Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair!” Then Rapunzel let down her braids and the sorceress climbed up to her.

“If that is the ladder that one needs to get up there, then I am also going to try my luck,” the prince declared. The next day as it began to get dark, he went to the tower and called out “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair!” All at once, the hair dropped down and the prince climbed up. When he entered the tower, Rapunzel was at first terribly afraid for she had never laid eyes on a man before. However, the prince began to talk to her in a friendly way and told her that her song had touched his heart so deeply, that he had not been able to rest until he had seen her. Rapunzel then lost her fear and when he asked her whether she’d have him for her husband, she saw that he was young and handsome. She thought, ‘he’ll certainly love me better than old Mother Gothel’. So she said yes and placed her hand in his. 

“I want to go down with you very much,” she said, “but I don’t know how I can get down. Every time you come you must bring a skein of silk with you and I’ll weave it into a ladder. When it’s finished, then I’ll climb down and you can take me away on your horse.” They agreed that until then, he would come to her every evening, for the old woman came during the day. Meanwhile, the sorceress did not notice anything until one day, Rapunzel blurted out; “Mother Gothel, how is it that you’re much heavier than the prince? When I pull him up, he’s here in a second.”

“Ah, you godless child,” exclaimed the sorceress, “What’s this I hear? I thought I had made sure that you had no contact with the outside world, but you’ve deceived me.” In her fury, she seized Rapunzel’s beautiful hair and wrapped it around her left-hand several times, grabbed a pair of scissors with her right hand, and snip! Snap! The hair was cut off and the beautiful braids lay on the ground. Then, the cruel sorceress took Rapunzel to a desolate land where she had to live in the great misery and grief. On the same day she banished Rapunzel, the sorceress fastened the braids that she had cut off to the hook in the window, and that evening when the prince came and called out “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair!” she let the hair down. The prince climbed up, but instead of finding his dearest Rapunzel on top, he found the sorceress who gave him vicious and angry looks.

“Aha!” She exclaimed with contempt, “You want to fetch your darling wife, but the beautiful bird is no longer sitting in the nest and she won’t be singing anymore. The cat has got her, and it will also scratch out your eyes. Rapunzel is lost to you and you will never see her again!” The prince was beside himself with grief and in his despair, he jumped off the tower. He escaped with his life, but the thorns he fell into pierced his eyes and so he became blind. Now he strayed about in the forest, ate nothing but roots and berries, and did nothing but mourn and weep about the loss of his dearest wife. Thus he wandered for many years in misery, eventually, he made his way to the desolate land where Rapunzel was leading a wretched existence with the twins, a boy and a girl to whom she had given birth. And when he heard a voice that he thought sounded familiar, he went straight towards it and when he reached her, Rapunzel recognized him. She embraced him and wept, and as two of her tears dropped onto his eyes, they became clear and he could see again. Then, he escorted her back to his kingdom, where he was received with joy and they lived happily and contentedly for a long time thereafter.

LORRIE

This one… wasn’t so bad. I mean, like, it’s still got gory bits, unfortunately, but it’s not nearly as bad as the last one. The one that Fish read, I mean.

[slowly spiraling] I don’t like fighting with her. It makes both of us feel bad and then, then, th-then shit is weird between us for like, days and it sucks feeling like I can’t talk to her. Because she’s the most important person in my life. Thank god we don’t fight that often. [sigh] But this fight seemed… different. I don’t know what she’s thinking is so wrong with the stories! They’re just, they’re jus—They’re just stories! There’s not really any issues, right? I—It’s just a book! Doesn’t matter that it was on the other side of the office this morning when I came in to set up. Fish probably came in and like, browsed through it last night. Probably just wanted some light reading material.

[Sadly] I really should go talk to her. I’m gonna go talk to her.

End recording.

[CLOSING MUSIC]

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

The Girl Next Door (Part 12) - Fourth of July

Summary: Dean spends some time bonding with Jack and he and the reader share a special fourth of July night with one another...

The Girl Next Door Masterlist

Pairing: Neighbor/Mechanic!Dean x baker!reader

Word Count: 4,000ish

Warnings: language

A/N: Parts of this series are told from two different POV’s. Dean’s POV are written from limited third person. Reader’s POV are second person (like a typical reader insert). Enjoy!…

Reader’s POV

“Hello boys,” you said, smiling as you saw Dean and Jack slip out of Baby next door around lunch the next day. You sipped on your lemonade, taking another bite of your sandwich. “I got more inside made up if you want some.”

“I think I like this having a girlfriend thing,” said Dean as he walked across the grass. “Sammy behaving this morning?”

“Perfect angel,” you laughed, looking to Jack when he hopped up the front step. “You’re off baking duty this afternoon, Jack. Go enjoy the sunny day, have your talk with Cas.”

“Kicking me out?” he asked.

“I think your sister is saying take a ‘me’ day, Jack,” said Dean, climbing over the railing and plopping onto the bench next to you.

“Can I borrow your car?” he asked.

“My car is in a scrap yard, Jack,” you said with a laugh. “Sorry.”

“Mine too,” frowned Sam, carrying out a plate of sandwiches and a pitcher of lemonade. “Still need to get a new one.”

“Are you wearing an apron?” grinned Dean, already reaching into his pocket for his phone.

“I will go destroy that pie, Y/N, made for you,” he said. Dean narrowed his eyes but leaned back, grabbing a sandwich. “That’s what I thought.”

“Why do you need a car, Jack? Gonna buy a big screen for your room?” asked Dean.

“I got a big screen in the family room,” you said.

“Yeah but-“ said Dean.

“No,” said Jack, taking a seat on the railing, taking a few bites of his meal. “I wanted to go to the art store. Buy a canvas.”

“Here,” you said, popping into the house, coming out with an envelope. “Money for your art supplies.”

“I got it...and that’s a lot Y/N,” he said as he looked inside of it.

“Supplies are expensive and I’m the one that asked you to make something after all,” you said.

“Fine,” said Jack, tucking the envelope in his pocket. “I still need a car though.”

“Alright. I guess we’re going shopping after lunch,” said Dean, sipping on his lemonade.

“I could borrow your-“ said Jack, Dean already shaking his head.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no no, no-“

“I guess you’re driving me then,” said Jack,

“Awesome. Benny and I’ll take you to a buddy of ours sometime soon so you can get your own wheels. He’s got plenty of used cars in good shape, sells to car guys at a discount,” said Dean.

“No,” you said. Dean cocked his head, Jack opening his mouth but you held up a finger. “You’re in a new car, something safe. God knows we need safe cars around here.”

“She’s got a point,” said Sam.

“Alright. We’ll go car shopping soon. Y/N should be getting a new one soon herself,” said Dean. “You sure you two got your baking stuff handled today?”

“Mhm. You boys take the afternoon off. We got this.”

Dean’s POV

“Woah, that’s big,” said Dean, Jack carrying the long canvas he’d picked out around the back of the store. “Whatcha going to do again?”

“Y/N asked me to paint something for the wall by the front door,” said Jack, turning down the paint aisle, leaning the canvas against the shelf while he tossed a few brushes in the basket.

“Cool. What are you going to paint?” he asked.

“Well, a lot of the house is white downstairs. White kitchen, white walls, light colored furniture. I want it to match you know?” said Jack.

“Yeah. It kind of looks like it’s out of some home magazine or something. It all fits together so well,” said Dean.

“I’m pretty sure she had a home designer decorate for her,” said Jack. “One of our parents friends did that sort of thing. We’re from Kansas City so I wasn’t sure why she moved out to Lawrence really or how she even found it. It’s very beautiful inside though, like Sam’s.”

“Yeah but I like that the houses aren’t cookie cutter on the street,” he said, Dean picking up a few bottles of paint. “Don’t let me tell you how to work your craft or anything but I think you should do something colorful.”

“It’ll stand out. I think something muted would be better for the house,” said Jack.

“So you want it to blend in with the rest, not stand out?” asked Dean, cocking his head.

“You don’t have to talk to me like I’m five, Dean. I’m only a few years younger than you, you realize,” he said.

“Alright then, big guy,” said Dean, lifting his chin. “I’ll shut up then.”

Jack rolled his eyes and stared at the paint, Dean crossing his arms while he waited.

“Stop staring at me,” said Jack.

“Well don’t take all day. You got Cas’ soon,” he said.

“She didn’t ask me so I could make some perfect picture for her. She only asked so I would get back into painting, something I used to really enjoy, like Y/N and her baking,” said Jack.

“So why are you so worried about making sure it fits in with the house then? If she asked you to paint so you get some enjoyment, I think you paint what you want, hm?” said Dean.

“...I get why Sam calls you the most annoying older brother in the world,” said Jack.

“Yeah, well. You’re stuck with me, Jack,” said Dean with a smile.

“And if you and my sister ever decided to call things off?” he asked.

“If she does ever come to her senses, and I sincerely hope she doesn’t, we can still be friends. You’ll still have your job, still go to Cas. My relationship with you might have started because of your sister but that don’t mean it has to end there,” said Dean.

“Benny says you always took in the strays,” said Jack.

“He doesn’t understand,” said Dean with a smile. “I love him, but he doesn’t.”

“What doesn’t he understand?”

“I was never friends with the new kids because they needed me, Jack. I was friends with them because I needed them. They didn’t know me. I might as well try to be friends before they changed their mind,” said Dean. Jack stared at him, blinking a few times.

“Would you want to come to therapy with me today?”

“Dean,” said Cas, raising an eyebrow when he walked into his office. He gave Jack a smile, spotting the guest tag on Dean’s shirt. “You’re here as Jack’s guest?”

“Yeah but don’t be shrinking me buddy. I’m just here cause Jack asked,” said Dean.

“Alright,” said Cas, taking a seat in his chair. He flipped open a new page on his notebook, setting it down on the table beside him before he crossed his legs. “So. Jack. To be honest I was expecting Y/N to be your first guest.”

“Yeah,” said Jack, glancing at Dean. “Dean’s uh-”

“Again, we ain’t shrinking me,” said Dean.

“Dean,” said Cas, lifting his chin and closing his eyes. “Jack, perhaps you can better explain the rules and relationship we have in this room versus outside of it, seeing as we are friends outside of it. I think that will help Dean understand what I expect when he’s here, guest or not.”

“Excuse me? You want me to give you a noggie over-”

“You may refer to me as Dr. Novak the reminder of the session, Dean. I think that will help you understand that for the next 58 minutes, we are not friends as you think of us,” he said.

“Alright, angry spice. I got it,” said Dean.

“Cas, Dr. Novak,” said Jack, “...he has a very strict confidentiality rule so he never shares anything in here that’s said with anyone, even if it’s about people he knows. He never brings anything up outside of the room either. We have to be honest and there’s nothing wrong with being honest with how we’re feeling. It helps us grow.”

“Alright. I ain’t drinking the kool aid but alright,” said Dean. Cas gave him a glare but turned back to Jack with a smile.

“Please continue Jack.”

“So like I was saying...Dean made a comment today and it made me think...maybe he’s not the guy I thought he was,” said Jack. Dean turned to his left, Jack ignoring his gaze. “You know, perfect.”

“No one is perfect, Jack,” said Cas. “Including Dean.”

“I know that. Dean just...he takes care of everyone. He does everything. He never complains or gets mad. He knows the right thing to say and...I guess I realized that he’s as scared as everybody else deep down,” said Jack.

“Would you like to respond to that?” asked Cas.

“No thank you, Dr. Novak,” said Dean, looking around the room. Cas snapped his fingers, Dean’s eyes landing back on him.

“I’m going to cheat a little,” said Cas.

“Shocker,” said Dean.

“Dean,” said Cas, leaning forward in his chair. “Jack’s not saying anything I didn’t already know. You have put yourself below others your entire life. I’m not saying you need therapy or to talk about why that is or any of that stuff. I just want to know, knowing all it is that you do about Jack, do you want to say anything back to him about what he just said?”

“I’ll tell you that life is shitty. And hard, Jack,” said Dean, leaning forward in his seat. “And I do all of those things because it makes me valuable, and needed, and I like taking care of my family. I got scars, just like you. You grew up rich, I didn’t, but we’re very similar. You had problems with your folks, I have problems with my folks. You got a little sibling you’d do anything for. I remember at the hospital. I know you snuck off to donate blood. I know you think you’re less than her too, that she’s more important than you. I think you feel like you disappointed her, broke something between the two of you after what happened last year. I know that, Jack.

“I don’t know what happened after that accident back then. I don’t know if you two fought or what but I don’t imagine it was good. I think that cute little thing next door that I love could destroy someone if she wanted to without even thinking twice. I do think she’s capable of it. I think she feels guilty though, like she let you down the past year. I think she was sad about your parents and even worse when she realized the kind of place she left you in to recover. I think she was lonely and you were lonely and you’re both learning it’s okay to trust each other again.

“People aren’t perfect Jack. Most of us are fucked up and we just hide it from everybody. Hell, two months ago my life was on auto-pilot. It wasn’t a bad life but I lived with that shitty feeling all the time. Last night, your sister made me feel like I was this amazing person. She was proud of me and she made me happy, still makes me happy. She’s in love with me and I love her. So you know what you do when shit happens? You pick yourself back up and you keep going, cause someday, someone’s going to walk into your life that’s going to change it. Somebody is going to come in and change it and it’s going to happen again and again and someday you’ll look back and think wow, look at what I got going for me now, look how different things are. I’m still not perfect but it’s not so bad anymore and I’m still learning that I’m important too. You get that, Jack?”

“So I shouldn’t...so when lift gets shitty, I should keep going cause it’ll get better eventually?” asked Jack.

“Sure,” said Dean, leaning back in his seat.

“Well. Okay then,” said Cas with a smile. “Why don’t you tell me about your day so far, Jack?”

“Hey, hold up,” said Cas when Dean and Jack were leaving. “Just you, Dean.”

Dean held a blank face as Jack left the room, rolling his eyes the second the door shut behind him.

“Do not go therapist on me, Cas. Seriously,” said Dean.

“I’m not. I just wanted to say...I really like Y/N,” said Cas. “It takes a special person to get through to you.”

“Okay...you aren’t gonna be weird or anything about the stuff I said in here…”

“About what? You told Jack to keep going and that life can be good. I think that’s pretty good advice,” said Cas.

“You’re not going to try and get me to talk to someone?” said Dean.

“Not unless you ever wanted to. You and Jack have different needs. Yours are being taken care of elsewhere. The fact you haven’t ripped my head off yet tells me it’s not just your relationship with Y/N that’s changing, it’s all of them,” said Cas with a smile. “Your friends are starting to notice you’re happy, Dean.”

“I really hate shrink you,” said Dean with a smile.

“Mhm. Go on. I got another appointment. I’ll see you Thursday at Benny’s for the party?” asked Cas.

“See you, buddy.”

Two Days Later: Reader’s POV

“Dean, I’m glad you enjoyed the pie but I really don’t think I should make you another one so soon. You’ve eaten two in two days,” you said, pressed up against him on your porch swing.

“But it’s so good. When do I get to have one of those Fourth of July cookies?” he asked.

“The second we get to Benny’s place for the party, you can dive in, babe,” you said.

“I am a babe, aren’t I?” he said, pecking a kiss on your cheek.

“I’m still not convinced Y/N isn’t the one without a brain injury,” said Sam. Dean turned behind himself with a scowl, Sam chuckling as he stood up.

“She’s still got a concussion,” said Dean. “Hey, you’re not done with your yoga crap. Get back down there.”

“I’m cutting it short today,” said Sam. “Eileen’s driving me and Avy so we’ll catch you guys at Benny’s?”

“Mhm,” you hummed.

“Avy, let’s go home and cool off for a minute before we head out, okay?” called Sam. She popped her head up from your driveway, ditching her chalk in her bucket and picking it up to bring home.

“See you, Sammy,” said Dean. He stood up from the seat and stretched, walking into the garage where Jack was working. “Painting’s looking good.”

“Thank you,” he said. “I should wash up before we leave.”

“Probably. Never know if there’ll be a cute girl there,” said Dean, flashing Jack a wink.

You heard Jack laugh as he picked up the hose in the driveway, spraying off his hands.

“I’m not quite ready for that yet,” said Jack.

“Benny’s got this cute cousin, Maggie, your age apparently. She’s gonna be there,” you said.

“I don’t need a girlfriend,” he said.

“No. But she’s just moved back to town. Could be a friend,” said Dean. “I’ll be back to pick you two up in thirty.”

“Jack!” you called, standing by the top of the stairs. He appeared at the bottom, half a cookie in his mouth. “Why am I not surprised...can you help me down when you’re done stealing cookies?”

“So you aren’t going to sneak down the stairs like you did this morning?” he laughed. He hopped up the steps, throwing an arm under your shoulder and got you down quickly. “Leg feeling any better?”

“Yeah. The skin is forming together some. Lacerations were always cool to me in school. One time I got to stitch up a guy that had a stabbed himself with a Bowie knife. It was all curvy and...” you said, Jack blinking at you. “I didn’t hate every aspect of med school, just most.”

“You always did like operation when we were little,” he said, looking you up and down, the cut on your cheek and your bruises faded away now. “Your face looks less revolting than normal at least.”

“Thanks, dick,” you laughed. You slipped on a pair of flip flops, Jack smiling when you grabbed your bag off the front table. “What?”

“You look nice, Y/N,” he said.

“So do you,” you said, fixing a piece of his hair. “You always looked good in light blue mom said.”

“I never heard her say that,” he said.

“She said it to me plenty. It’s very true,” you said. “Goes with your hair.”

“I miss them sometimes,” said Jack. “They weren’t great but they were still ours.”

“I do too,” you said, rubbing your hand down his arm. “But then I remember how tense life used to be. Everything. All the time. It was like everyone was pretending we were one big happy family all the time when we weren’t.”

“Tense...that’s a good word for it,” he said.

“Still feel that way?”

“No, not really. Still learning that this is what normal feels like I suppose,” he said.

“I’ve been thinking...you don’t need a curfew Jack. You’re older than me. If you’re gonna be out late or stay over somewhere, just text me and say you won’t be home. Deal?” you asked.

“I can agree to that,” he said, glancing behind you. You heard Dean whistle, popping inside and picking up a platter of cookies off the table.

“One of these is missing,” said Dean, raising an eyebrow at you. “Trust me. I know. I counted.”

“Oh my god, just take one,” you laughed. Dean shoved a cookie in his mouth and another, humming as he carried the rest out the door.

“I shouldn’t be surprised that Benny lives out here near the lake,” you said, walking off a burger and all the other party food you’d spent the afternoon and evening gorging on.

“It’s pretty nice,” said Dean, holding your hand, slowly keeping pace with you. “Let’s let you rest your leg for a minute.”

He turned right and popped onto an old dock, taking a seat along the edge with you, your legs dangling off the side.

“This may or may not be a pretty good spot for watching fireworks,” said Dean. “Not that I would know of course.”

“You take all the girls out here?” you teased.

“No. Not at all. I might actually be kicked out of the club for bringing you here. Club members only,” he said.

“Well how does one become a club member?” you asked, leaning over, brushing your lips over his.

“Well ordinarily you gotta jump over the barrel in the woods back there but I think given your current situation, a kiss would be more than enough,” he said.

“You win this one,” you said, pecking him on the lips. “So what kind of club did I just join?”

“The one three idiots and their baby brother made up in fifth grade,” said Dean. “Benny’s folks live in the neighborhood, you met ‘em earlier. Well, Benny convinced his parents to let me and Cas and even Sammy sleep over that Fourth of July. Our parents were going at it so I think Benny knew I didn’t want to leave Sam home alone that night. So us four idiots snuck out when his parents told us not to and we came to the lake cause the real good fireworks are so close and we got this great view of them from this dock, right here. It was awesome. We all got reemed out a new one when we snuck back in but it was worth it.”

“I see. So I’m the first girl to ever come out here?” you asked. He chuckled, shaking his head.

“With me, yeah. But my boys...I think Cas had his first make out session out here and Benny got to second base somewhere around the lake. He brought a blanket even. Very classy,” he said with a laugh.

“There’s nothing wrong with a little makeout session,” you said. “I mean, I don’t even get a blanket.”

“I took you here to watch fireworks, dork,” he said, throwing his arm over your shoulder. “And a little kissing.”

“That’s my boy,” you said, kissing his cheek.

“You’re a special girl, Y/N. Special to me,” said Dean, smiling softly at you. “I want to do that stuff. You got no idea how attractive you are. But I need a little more time for me first. Sex turned into this bad thing for me. I know you don’t think I’m a piece of meat but I got to convince myself of that first.”

“Dean,” you said. “I’m only teasing. I don’t have the most experience but...I don't want to do it until we’re both ready.”

He smiled and nodded his head, pressing his lips to your temple for a long moment.

“Thank you for being understanding,” he said.

“Thank you for sharing that with me,” you said. “I do find you very attractive, Dean. I’ll even admit to purposefully watching you wash Baby in your driveway. You are freaking handsome and hot and your body makes my brain forget how to function at times. You’re attractive, don’t get me wrong...but that’s not what attracts me to you, if you get that.”

“I get that,” he said quietly. “Took the words out of my mouth. I mean...you’re a pretty girl. A beautiful girl. But you aren’t beautiful because of what’s out here. You are but you aren’t. The stuff you can’t see is what makes you beautiful. If you get that.”

“I get that,” you said. “You’re like a hallmark card, but I get it.”

“Not even gonna ask what makes me think that?” he asked, brushing his knuckles over your cheek.

“Maybe someday. Not tonight,” you said, scooting closer to him. “I got a feeling I wouldn’t believe you anyways.”

“S’okay. I’ll believe enough for the both of us,” he said. You wanted to roll your eyes but he turned your head just so in his direction, bright eyes looking back, a loud few pops in the air going off, the sky lighting up in your peripheral. “Fireworks started.”

��Okay,” you said, neither one of you turning away.

“Okay,” he said, another one going off, a smirk tugging onto his lips.

“You know...I could get used to these little dates,” you said.

“You asking me out, Y/L/N?” he asked, moving forward a few inches.

“For sure. Tomorrow night?”

“I’ll be there,” he said, closing the gap, kissing you with a hum. “Always taste like sugar.”

“You still like it?”

“I still like it, sweetheart.”

A/N: Read the Final Part here!

[iwritethat]

Tim Drake: All Hallows’ Night

A/N: I’ve been waiting all year for this and love the Halloween story ideas and I hope you all do too.

🎃: Tim encounters a ghostly presence in the manner but it turns out you’re more than the folktales let on.

>>>>—————————>

Once upon a time, there was a mysterious ancient house. It was in the rumours, the city speculations and old wives tales that ghosts thrived in Wayne Manor. Of course, all that once lived there or continued to do so were no stranger to these mysteries although the current residents thought nothing of such folk lores as they had no proof to suggest otherwise and thus paid no attention to unusual tendencies.

That was at least until Timothy Drake had one eventful Halloween, one he would not soon forget. At first the odd occurrences weren't given a second thought, objects falling from shelves and peculiar echoes in the hallways were all a normal day to Tim, the single soul in the Manor at the time. That is until he returned to the Bat Computer, scrolling through the research he'd compiled linking to the newest case of underground dealings.

"Definitely a mobster, I'm thinking Penguin to be honest."

"Yes, it certainly matches his usual pattern." The vigilante replied without hesitation to whomever had commented on his case file despite being alone in the Manor that night.

"..."

"..."

It was an eery silence, one like no other, despite his focused state, Red Robin had realised the impossibility of having an unfamiliar voice answer the silence.

"Who the flip?!”

With his delayed startling, the stranger laughed, Tim scrambling to his feet only to find an unusual presence perched on the desk of the computer next to where he once sat.

"You're Tim Drake right?" Of course, the male was too bewildered to answer the unwelcome intruder, simply nodding whilst pointing his bo staff.

"I'm (Y/n) (L/n) by the way, thanks for asking."

"How did you get in here? The security systems are top of the range, they would've informed me of your access." He was astounded, tilting his head out of curiosity yet retained the offensive stance.

"Guess they're on the brink huh? No need to worry though mate, I mean you no harm~" The (h/c) beauty grinned with a wicked smile, offering out a hand for Tim to shake. The hero smiled in response, though still wary, met theirs in greeting - however instantly backed away upon doing so, their hands never met, instead his passed straight through (Y/n)'s own.

"Well then, I suppose you have your answer about security now." The entity smiled, hopping off of the counter and strolling towards him.

"What on earth are you?"

"Hmm, technically at this point in time I'm a ghost, wandering spirit? Although phantom has more finesse to it, wouldn't you agree?" The intruder brought a hand to their chin in thought before directing a smile toward him.

"I um, what?" Tim stared in confusion, closing his eyes as a break from the newest shreds of weird information.

"Oh no, you know what? Spectre has a nice ring to it too."

"No, I mean... wait, does that mean the stories are true? Wayne Manor is haunted? By you?" Tim was full of questions, just as expected by this latest phenomenon.

"For tonight it is, and for the unforeseeable future I'm afraid. Don't get me wrong, I had the full intention of keeping to myself but it's incredibly boring and this case seemed like a viable distraction." Was carefully explained, gesturing to the computer with a mischievous glint to their eyes much to Tim's fascination.

"Okay. Alright. Sure. For the sake of my sanity I'm not going to argue with a ghost... (Y/n)." Tim shook his head, once again sitting at his computer.

"Ah you're my favourite Robin already." Came the hearty response, the entity leaning on the back of Tim's chair as he scrolled through. They bounced ideas off of each other, methodology, motive, the next areas to strike and soon enough Tim was clad in his uniform readying to disappear into the night. The unlikely pair walked together towards the exit, planning a strategy on dealing with the Penguin and had the intent to carry it out - until Tim walked through the exit and the spirit clashed with an invincible force, curses spewing from their lips.

Red Robin was once again beside them, opting to offer physical comfort before he phased past them and had to settle for verbal inquiries.

"What happened? Is it some sort of barrier?"

"Damnit Constantine, tethering me to Wayne Manor of all places. Dumbass sorcerer..." It was only faint frustrated mutterings but explained your situation rather adequately.

"I'll take that as a yes."

"I haven't been completely honest with you, but in my defence you didn't ask. I'm verging between the spirit and living world and I'm relying on John bloody Constantine to pull me back from this purgatory. And since it's Halloween I'm guessing my spirit can manifest." The entity gave an exasperated sigh, rolling their eyes at the mention of their comrade.

"That's a lot to take in (Y/n), wheres Constantine now? I can go and lend my assistance, maybe I can -"

"No Tim, you have to help Gotham. You've known me no more than a couple of hours, you have more important matters to deal with." Despite their previous remarks it was obvious they had trust in Hellblazer and didn’t wish for their circumstance to interfere with Robins’ duties.

"Maybe so, but I'd like to think a couple of hours is enough to say you’re not so bad. I can't help but wonder what it'd be like meeting you in person." Tim wittily replied, raising a brow in their direction.

"Maybe one day, until then I'll stick to haunting."

"Hey RR, who are you talking to?" Dick Graysons voice rebounded off of the walls to the cave, Tim directing his gesture to his latest accomplice only to catch a glimpse of static where they'd once stood.

"Uh- no one..."

"Hah, for a second there I thought you were going to say a ghost. Anyway, I got an update on that case of yours."

-

(Y/n)'s presence lingered for a while after Halloween although it was not as strong as then, but there were the little quirks that Tim noticed around the Manor.

'Nice job solving the case detective~'

Was written on the dusty surface of the attic during one of his ventures, foggy windows also held innocent scrawling of which Tim happily replied to whether out loud or with his own scribbles.

Then there was the peculiar static on his TV if he ever watched it between 00:00-1:00am, one he'd grown to value.

"Hey Timbers.”

"Ah you're back, and still haunting the place I see." The male looked up from his laptop, crossing his legs and smiled at the TV.

"Yeah well Constantine is apparently taking his sweet time." The image of the spectre was slightly blurred and flicked every so often but remained viewable.

"He told me what you did to end up here y'know." He’d referred to the call he’d made a few days ago inquiring about the odd circumstance and if he could assist.

"He's lying." It was a confident and quick reply, (Y/n) unwilling to discuss such matters.

"About sacrificing yourself to bring them all back from Hell? Despite not being in the vigilante game?" Red Robin elaborated further, knowing a majority of the details beforehand.

"Yup, so hard to believe it must be a lie."

"Why did you-"

"Because they're my friends, they helped me out and I took on some damn demon curse to save them. Anyway, who are we looking into tonight partner?" With a brief smile, Tim flipped the computer screen in their direction as a visual response.

Tim also took to using the radio frequently whenever he was alone, making it easier for the  invisible resident to communicate with him.

"I miss food so much, it's rude of you to constantly eat in front of me you know."

"True but take out is just so amazing, I wanted to share the experience." He was being incredibly dramatic purely to get on his friends nerves though his playful side was rather endearing.

"I hate you right now." The guest replied, the radio crackling as a physical display of their words.

"Alright, alright, when you're back to normal I'm taking you out to dinner on me." Boy wonder instantly caved, but was truly sincere about his statement.

"Are you sure you can spare enough time to do that detective? Won't Gotham crumble without you?" The spectres sarcasm was heard even through the radio, and if he could see their expression Tim would bet they wore a smirk.

"I'll always take time out for you like I do now, but you have a point - I guess we'll have to take down some crime rings before dessert." It was accompanied by a shrug yet (Y/n) was grateful for his words none the less.

"Dinner and a show, I like it."

-

However it wasn't long before these daily instances Tim looked so forward to seemed nonexistent, the TV displayed the news without any interference, windows remained untouched of meaningful notes and the radio soon lost its appeal. Constantine was unreachable leaving Tim with no inclination as to what happened to the illusive guest and it seemed his family members noticed the sudden deterioration of his mood but chose not to pry quite yet.

It had been a week or two by his count, and he was currently packing for Titans Tower, shifting through his belongings and paperwork.

"Hey stranger, whatcha doing?" The voice held addictive familiarity, clearer to what it had been before, and due to this Tim answered like nothing had changed.

"I'm moving to Titans Tower, the Team thought it’d help our teamwork and I honestly can't wait."

"Hmm, when do you leave?" Their lovely tone held a hint of disappointment but was masked well for anyone but a detective.

"I'm aiming for this weekend, but don't worry I'll come back as often as I can to see you." He took a brief glance to the standing figure, lifting a box and walking straight through like he usually did purely to mess with them.

However, he hit a solid surface, the giggle following his actions causing him to almost drop his belongings but fortunaly the previously thought-to-be ghost stabled it with ease.

"Cool, I'll be able to visit you as well. But do you think you've got time for that dinner first? I'm starving after actually bypassing Manor security and climbing through your window." His realisation bringing a smug grin to (Y/n)’s lips as they finished.

“I- you- you’re back?”

“Yep, in the flesh although there’s some nice side effects... Nothing major though.”

“C’mon you’re telling me everything, the Manor is free tonight so how about take out and a movie?”

“Lead the way detective.”

Tim did so, however as the pair passed a hallway the former ghost halted before a beautiful oil painting and gently straightened the frame then turning to the questioning expression of Drake.

“Oh, it’s a half a centimetre off balance and it’s been winding up the ghost of the Manor for years. I promised to fix it once I returned.” (Y/n) nonchalantly explained, smirking as she passed an awestruck vigilante.

“...Ghost?”

“Who do you think told me about all your identities? Also, according to my recent conversation with the ghost, apparently you missed me Timbers~”

“Of course I did but how do you know that?!”

“Side effects, but don’t worry I missed you too.”

(Y/n) remained cursed for the rest of her mortal life, to become a spectre as the clock strikes, marking the Witching Hour for every Hallows' Eve to come until the festival was up.

~~~

"The End." You dramatically finished, accompanied by a spooky hand gesture for emphasis as you enjoyed the warm glow of the campfire.

The fellow hero's seated on surrounding logs remained silent for a few moments before cheering, thoroughly enthralled in the tale you bestowed upon them as per tradition of Halloween night.

"That's one hell of a story (Y/n), and basing the characters off of yourself and Tim was genius!" Cassie complimented, standing up with sheer delight as you smiled.

"Way to put a twist on a classic horror story telling, never would've thought of something like that." Conner nodded in approval, proudly smirking at the exchange of smiles between yourself and your boyfriend.

Tim sat beside you, nudging your shoulder out of the playful knowing you both shared and of course what came with the success of your tale. The chime of the cities bell tower echoed in the distance and with it you stood before your fellow hero's who had no intention of sleeping quite yet and wished them a good night. Tim followed your lead, gently brushing his fingers with yours as you strolled back to your room for the evening as the Team watched you both disappear into the eery night exchanging playful remarks.

But... if they had just looked a little closer....

Taken more notice...

Maybe they would have caught how Tim's digits effortlessly phased through your own as the witching hour had begun...

[ghostking-wenning]

Radishes, Chapter 4

I wrote this all in one go last night, and I think it came together pretty good! So y’all get a lil two-fer today. This chapter is mostly dialogue, which is probably my specialty! Lemme know whatcha think. 

1900 words, rated T for drinking I guess, NingXian, modern au, first date, momentary angst but it’s resolved really quick!

Enjoy~!

“Thank you! We’re The Whatevers! We have stickers and T-shirts at the merch counter. Have a great night!” Wuxian waved as he and his bandmates gathered their things and left the stage. Their set was short, but it was easily the most exciting thing Qionglin had seen in … well, ever, probably. The host in the strappy dress came back, and thanked The Whatevers, chatting to fill time while the next band set up.

“Hey!” Wuxian suddenly appeared at his side. He’d shed his leather jacket, and a light sheen of sweat coated his skin.

“Hey!” Qionglin parroted back, hopping to his feet. “That was amazing! You really are a rockstar!” Wuxian had put on heeled boots for the show, and now towered a few inches over him. Qionglin had to tip his head further back to meet his eyes.

Wuxian laughed breezily. “Thank you so much! I’m glad you liked it. It means a lot.”

“Of course! I um, I really like your s-singing. And the lyrics were really poetic and moving, but still cool and exciting! I-- I haven’t heard a lot of music like that before.” 

“Oh, gosh, thanks!” Wuxian gushed. “I didn’t know anyone actually listened to the lyrics, heh…”

“You asked me to,” Qionglin explained. “But I think I would’ve noticed them anyway, they’re…” He searched for the right word. “Beautiful.” 

Wuxian didn’t say anything for a while, just stared down at him intensely. Qionglin shuffled his feet and broke eye contact. 

“Do you wanna get out of here?” Wuxian eventually asked.

“Uh, out? Where?” Qionglin forced himself to look back at him, but his expression was still so piercing. Qionglin bit his lower lip, and his stomach flipped over when Wuxian’s gaze flicked downward. 

His face finally softened, a slight smile curling his lips. “I know a place. Let’s go.”

Qionglin followed him back through the greenroom, and out of the club. They walked a few blocks, to a quiet bar called the Lilypad. It was decorated in blues and greens and purples, live plants overflowing from handmade ceramic pots. Soft, traditional Chinese music lilted through the air.

“Wow,” Qionglin remarked. “This place is cute! Kind of a 180 from the Devil’s Den, huh?”

“Mhm!” Wuxian agreed. “It’s an old favorite. My dad took my brother and me here for our first drinks when we turned 18.”

They took their seats across from each other at a small round table. Brightly colored fish swam in an aquarium next to them. Wuxian perused the drink menu. They had a beautiful view of the river, glinting faintly in the twilight.

“What’s good here?” Qionglin wondered aloud. “This probably isn’t surprising, but I don’t drink very often. Pretty much just on holidays at family dinners or whatever.”

“Hmm… do you trust me?” Wuxian asked, peering over the menu, one eyebrow raised.

Qionglin looked at him, confused. “Yes…?” 

“Good!” Wuxian said decisively, tapping the side of his nose. “Wait right here.” And he whisked away.

“Okay…” Qionglin waited obediently. A couple of minutes later, Wuxian reappeared with two glasses of pale golden wine.

“This is one of the best things you’ll ever taste,” he promised, setting one glass in front of Qionglin. 

Qionglin raised his eyebrows. “Not what I was expecting…” he began, lifting the glass and sniffing curiously. The wine smelled of lotus blossoms and ripe plums. He took a tentative sip. The golden liquor warmed his lips, but didn’t burn as it slid down his throat. Its sweet aroma reminded him of summertime. “It’s delicious!”

“Right?” Wuxian effused. “It’s called Hefeng. It’s a specialty from my hometown. Also, I lied. It’s the second best thing you’ll ever taste. The first one is harder to find up here.” He drank happily from his glass, smiling fondly.

“Oh? What’s the first one?” 

“It’s called Emperor’s Smile. They only make it in Suzhou, though, and the vineyard that makes it doesn’t distribute it. Something about how it doesn’t taste right outside of Suzhou, I dunno. Sounds like bullshit to me, but it’s damn good wine.” He sighed wistfully. “If I get a bottle, I’ll save you a glass.” 

Qionglin felt heat rising to his face, and tried to hide it behind his wine glass. He took a long sip. 

“Pace yourself,” Wuxian warned. “It’s stronger than it tastes.” 

Indeed it was. Less than a quarter-hour later, Qionglin’s glass was empty and he was feeling quite buzzed. Oops, he thought faintly. Oh well!

“So tell me about yourself,” Wuxian prompted. He swirled the wine in his glass; he was on his second cup, but seemed thus far unaffected.

“Oof,” Qionglin muttered. “What’s there to tell? I’m … Just a farmer, I guess. I like plants and animals. I like to cook. That’s kind of it.” He shrugged. “I’m not exactly the most interesting guy around. I’m probably pretty boring, huh?”

“Don’t say that,” Wuxian chided. “If you were boring, we wouldn’t be here. Tell me about farming! How’d you get into that?”

Qionglin blinked. No one had ever asked. “Well, it’s a family thing. The farm’s been in our family for over a hundred years. My cousins and I are starting to take over the bulk of the work from our aunties and granny.” 

“What about your folks? What do they do?” 

“Oh… Um… They were doctors.”

“On the farm?”

“N-no, I mean… before they died.” Awkwardly, Qionglin glanced out the window. It was dark out now, but he could see city lights twinkling across the water.

“What? No way!” Wuxian blurted out.

“Uh… It’s not exactly unheard of…” Qionglin picked at his paper napkin.

“No, no, that’s not what I meant!” Wuxian corrected. “I um. Lost my parents too. When I was really little.”

“Oh.” Qionglin looked back at him and offered an apologetic smile. “What a thing to have in common, huh? But I thought you mentioned your dad earlier?”

“Yeah, I was adopted. I was in the foster system for a few years, then a friend of my father’s found me and took me in. He’s been very kind to me. His kids are like my real siblings.” He cleared his throat. “So, what about you? Do you have siblings?”

“Yeah, a big sister!” Qionglin said, already forgetting the maudlin turn their conversation had taken. “Her name is Qing and she’s the coolest. She’s in medical school here in the city. What are your siblings like?” 

Wuxian smiled warmly. “I have a big sister too. She’s probably my favorite person ever. Her name’s Yanli, she’s a pastry chef. My brother, Wanyin, is… he’s my best friend, but he’s kind of an acquired taste. In other words, he’s a total dickhead, but I love him anyway!” His laughter was almost as beautiful as his singing.

Qionglin couldn’t help but laugh too. “They sound great,” he mused.

“Yeah…” Wuxian sighed. “Even my boyfriend likes them, and he doesn’t like anyone!”

Qionglin’s heart dropped like a stone. “... your what…?” He whispered, praying he’d heard wrong. Involuntarily, his hands curled into fists in his lap.

Wuxian blanched. “My-- my boyfriend? Don’t tell me-- did I never mention him?”

“No. You didn’t.” Qionglin said shortly. He couldn’t believe he’d been so naive. He must’ve misread his kindness and openness as flirting, and like a fool, fell for it. Maybe Wuxian was just like this to everyone he met. He felt hot from the inside out, like his bones had turned to molten lead. His skin prickled, and his breath hitched like suddenly there wasn’t enough oxygen in the room. “I should go.” He stood abruptly, slapped a stack of small bills on the table, more than enough for one glass of wine, and hurried out of the bar. 

The shock sobered him up instantly. He walked briskly down the street, vision blurred with tears. He hoped he was walking back to his car, but the streets all looked the same, especially in the dark. Stupid! Of course he already has someone! Why would he ever waste his time on me? He roughly swiped the tears away with his shirtsleeves. Just my fucking luck, isn’t it? The first time I ever like someone and it goes like this. So much for new beginnings and taking chances, huh?

“Wait--!” Wuxian fumbled for his wallet, paid quickly and ran after him. “Qionglin! Wait, I can explain!” 

Qionglin walked faster and tried to ignore him, but he caught up easily and cut him off. Qionglin took a shaky breath. “Explain what?” He spat, refusing to look at him. “I … I thought you… ugh, never mind.” Words rarely came easily, but it was even harder to speak when he was so worked up. “God I’m an idiot…” he muttered.

“No, you’re not--! I didn’t mean to… to lead you on or anything. I-- my boyfriend and I-- we’re open. I’m polyamorous.”

Qionglin blinked a few times. He’d heard that word before, but wasn’t sure he understood. 

“It means I sometimes have feelings for more than one person.” Wuxian explained. “My boyfriend, Wangji -- he doesn’t feel the same way, but he understands that I do, we have an agreement and everything. I-- I swear I didn’t mean to keep it from you. I really just forgot I hadn’t already told you.” Qionglin still avoided looking at him, but his tone was gentle and sincere. 

Qionglin sniffed. “S-- so what?” 

“So… Can I have a do-over? A new first date, a proper one. A-anything you want to do! I know I don’t deserve it… but I like you. Will you let me try again?” Slowly, shyly, he reached for Qionglin’s hand. Qionglin flinched but didn’t pull away, letting Wuxian gently prise his fingers apart and twine them together. 

Qionglin’s head was spinning. Suddenly he felt tipsy again. “S-so…” he repeated slowly. “You do like me…?”

Wuxian chuckled softly. “Yeah, I do.” With his free hand he reached up and delicately dabbed the tears from the corners of Qionglin’s eyes. “I’m so sorry I upset you like that. That was my fault.” For someone so carefree and vivacious, he could be surprisingly mature when he wanted to be. “I won’t do it again.”

Qionglin swallowed hard. “Okay…” he whispered.

Wuxian stepped even closer. Their chests were nearly touching. “Okay? You mean it?” He asked hopefully.

Qionglin nodded. He looked up at Wuxian finally, and managed a shy smile. Wuxian pulled Qionglin into his arms, squeezing tightly. Qionglin wondered when was the last time anyone hugged him like this. Tentatively, he brought his arms up and wrapped them around Wuxian’s waist, leaning into the embrace and resting his forehead on his shoulder. He was still reeling a bit from the emotional whiplash, but Wuxian’s arms were warm, strong, and grounding. His heart rate slowed, and his breathing evened out. "So a do-over, huh? A proper… date?" He said, voice muffled in the collar of Wuxian's jacket.

Wuxian finally let go and stepped back, hands still lingering on Qionglin’s own. “Yes! Let me know what you want to do. Say the word and we’ll go, okay?” 

Qionglin thought for a moment, humming and tipping his head to the side. 

“You don’t have to think of it right now!” Wuxian clarified. “You can just text me when you decide.”

Qionglin shook his head. “No, no, I’ve got it. Let’s go to the zoo. I'm… free tomorrow! Or next Saturday. Every Saturday, actually…"

Wuxian smiled that sunshine smile. “Tomorrow is perfect.”