#I also finally got a finisher so hopefully my paint will stop peeling

[werederg]

Poking holes in my newest patch that it definitely didn’t take me like a year to finally finish painting.

It’s a band name! Guess what it is!

[banqdanfnfic]

which, as they kiss, consume | jjk

you just wanted to get a tattoo from your boyfriend

pairing: tattoo artist!jk x reader

genre: established relationships au, tattoo artist au, smut

word count: 4k

warnings: unprotected sex, biting, making out, grinding, licking, nipple play, jk has a lip ring, oral (f receiving), fingering, shy jk and oc, sexual tension, slight choking, slight aftercare

♫ : Streets by Doja Cat, Candy by Doja Cat

♡ Aesthetics: Playlist | Moodboard

He visibly chokes on his glass of beer as he almost snaps his neck to meet your gaze. He could say that you were awfully drunk and hence the sudden confession out of the blue, but behind your heavy lidded eyes, Jungkook could sense that you were serious.

“You what?”, he gulps abruptly, moving closer to your face, doe eyes pleading to repeat yourself.

“Yes Kook. I want that tattoo on my breasts. I’ve decided”.

It’s not that Jungkook didn’t have experience in his career with inking on different parts of a human body. He just had never given a tattoo to someone who is romantically associated with him and the thought of seeing you half naked made him chuck down the rest of his drink in one go.

The most physical he had ever gotten with you was a kiss shared occasionally since it’s only been over two weeks you had started dating. Okay maybe you made out once in his car but that’s it. It never got to the point of shedding clothes or anything intense.

“Are you sure?”

You giggle at the sudden hoarseness in his voice and nod positive. Ironic how his aura never matched his personality. His inked skin, athletic body proportions covered in black monochrome bad boy outfits gave out default energy that he is a local heartthrob with multiple chicks wrapped around his finger each night and a heavy demeanor to carry in his smirk.

You were one of those believers until Jungkook asked you out in the most hopeless romantic way possible after constantly visiting the café you work in, a few shops besides his parlor. He was a gentleman with respectful boundaries, warm hands to hold yours and sweet sensual kisses though you are pretty sure he probably has a good game.

For any outsider it looked like those cliché bad boy and shy girl love stories, but for real both of you were a good percentage of introverts.

Jungkook runs his tongue around his lip ring while he is stressfully ruffling his dark locks into a mess. He is trying to explain his reasons to postpone your decision considering how shy he got at this point. But then that’s exactly why you were requesting him with soft eyes, it would be so uncomfortable to be shirtless in front of anybody else. Or maybe it’s your way of saying the relationship is open for higher levels of physical affection.

After debating around in vain, he finally hums and clears one of his slots for his beloved client.

Friday approaches way quicker than you assumed and now your heart is beating in your throat. Right after you are done cleaning the tables, you have to make it to Jungkook’s parlor for your appointment.

Running on three hours of sleep, black under eyes even after a decent amount of makeup, you groan as you check yourself out in the mirror. You opted for a simple shirt and skirt (also known as the outfit you bought for occasions with Jungkook), light beach waves resting on your shoulders. Hoping that a few cups of coffee will save you, you stride across the street to stop before the infamous parlor he worked in. Hopefully the full body shave and chocolate body butter has kept its excellence on your skin below the clothing.

The door chimes as it opens with a dragged creak on the musky wooden flooring. It felt like an otherworld where air smelled like men’s perfume and faint tint of cigarettes. In other words, intoxicating.

You ask the first person you meet at the reception, one of Jungkook’s companions at the shop and he assists you to his cabin located at a comfortably remote location.

His space is hidden with a simple black curtain. You are met with Jungkook’s back facing you, working determinately on a client’s arm and cares to spare a glance only when the guy with you is informing him about your presence.

“This will be over in a few”, he grins to your face and goes back to focusing his coil on the skin of a woman in her late twenties laying down his chair. The vibration from his inking machine fills in the silence and you excuse yourself to sit on a small black couch beside them.

This was the first time watching him at work and now you can understand why people rumored so much about his attitude because damn it is intimidating.

Brows knit together and inked muscles flex as he drags the needles around for finishing touches. Meanwhile you can pretty much smell the drool from the woman who is shamelessly checking out your boyfriend. Though you are pretty sure Jungkook gets such glances more than he can count every day, you can’t help but feel jealous. Partly because of the childish possessiveness and partly because you want to be the reason behind his dark eyes and intricate concentration, in profession or not.

To stop from mentally throwing daggers on the client’s way, you grab a random fashion magazine from the side table and flip through pages, though other four senses are inclined on your man. With a close attention to his low sigh you conclude that he is done.

The customer with now a fresh tattoo on her arm is discussing random useless topics to get him to talk, a very vain job realizing how Jungkook doesn’t bat a friendly lash at anybody, especially to those who hit on him. To be honest a large part of the ink business was linked with the obsession to attractive people who worked here, even if it meant trading an area of your skin. You grip the edges of the magazine a bit hard, not able to contain the sanity particularly at the high pitch voice she mumbles in before finally leaving his cabin.

A little excited and a lot nervous, you stand up as Jungkook bids goodbye to the third person.

He is quick to notice your discomfort, though not sure if it was the woman or the thought of finally getting the tattoo, he knew you were nervous and surviving in several cups of espresso by the dark circles slowly showing through the faded layers of your concealer. But nothing pulls down the opinion he has about you, beautiful and simple, no dramatics attached.

“Hey are you okay?”

You nod as soon as you sit down on the black tattoo chair, shifting a little to find a comfortable position. He is taking out a box full of equipment and fine needles, already making you break a sweat at the side of your forehead.

But more than that, it’s the way he is sharp and professional that catches your attention more.

You have never seen Jungkook this serious before. The choice of his vetiver perfume digging through your nostrils was driving you insane. If he doesn’t smile soon, you are going to melt into a puddle at his gaze.

“Are you nervous?”, he smirks this time, a newfound reason for your worsening gut health.

It’s mostly going in cycles at this point. Every bit of his skilled motion causes a vigorous hormonal reaction which initiates his next set of effortless teasing.

“I’m a little nervous”, you say, fiddling with your freshly painted nude nails.

“Me too”

It’s something you least expect to come out of his mouth observing how confident he looks right now. He basically has you cornered with his gaze. But whenever he had been truthful about his emotions it felt like a hug.

“I can take off my shirt too, so that we are even. Is that okay?”

He said it so softly like he is handling a child and the duality of the situation had your mind fogged and limbs frozen for a few minutes.

“Yeah it’s okay” It’s far beyond than okay. It’s great actually.

Jeon Jungkook is ripped, a Greek God sculptured masterpiece covered in self designed artwork you are more than happy to wake up to every morning. He hears you gulp at the feast before your eyes while he discards his black t-shirt to a nearby chair.

Now you don’t know if this whole thing is supposed to warm your heart or make you play several erotic fantasies like a movie before your eyes.

Both of you share a small smile while his long fingers are tugging at the hem of your shirt and pulling it up over your head.

He almost wishes you don’t opt to wear a bra but he is met with lacy black, a-bit-over your-usual-budget fabric hugging the roundness of your breasts.

It seemed like you were way too competitive about today. Anything less than complete awe from Jungkook for you was straight disappointment, you don't want anything less.

Well it seems like it did from how blown his pupils were at this point. He peels his gaze off your chest with a sharp gulp to look at your eyes suddenly devoid of any fear and staring back at him with all ease. He is filled with an exapnse of warmth and he isn't sure why does spending just a little amount of time with you had such a grip on him. He can’t wait to propose the idea of getting a couple tattoo together soon and as far as you know how Jungkook is, he is very serious with his body art so apparently he does trust you a lot already.

“Where exactly are you trying to get it?”, his voice is a lot deeper suddenly as he waits for your fingers to guide to his canvas.

You softly trace the spot at the upper circumference of your right boob, “Here”.

You suck a breath through your nose as his own fingers are mimicking your gesture, lightly pulling down the lace to inspect the fitting of the design at hand.

These violent delights have violent ends

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder

Jungkook traces each word on your burning skin, now leaning dangerously close which was questioning your control to put your palms flat on his pecs. He doesn’t notice that though, his mind is busy creating his own fantasies about the women under him.

After two minutes and twenty four second long of inspection and mutual thirst, Jungkook is selecting a bunch of needles to set into the rotary machine. Five fine sharp like a painter's brush moves in and out at a set regularity as Jungkook tests it out.

The next of his actions had you flushed into a pool of crimson. He gently lifts up your resting torso with one hand while the other is unclasping the hook of your bra, making you half naked for the sake of the tattoo.

"I'm going to start", he says shyly.

You still have time to save yourself from the growing phobia for the object, but another unlogical part of your brain says it's a piece of cake considering you have a whole distracting full course meal in front of you.

It stings at first. Well, okay it hurts like hell but your face is devoid of any indication, except your right hand is gripping on the rim of the chair for dear life.

Jungkook on the other hand had never felt this much diversion of mind during his work. He knows that you are probably hurting very badly, especially for a first timer. He is biting into his lip ring, trying to get this over with for the well-being of your pain and his hormones.

After he had scribed one word into your dermis, you are no longer able to contain the ache so you give out a small squeak out of your glossed lips and the vibration of the machine at his hands stops as he looks at you.

"You want me to stop? ", he is relaxing his face as he cups yours with one hand. You don't want to answer that question, but the drumroll of the current situation is making your heart flutter and everything about the little burn on your chest is forgotten.

"No. It does hurt but I'll be fine I guess", you whisper. His breath is mixing with yours slowly as he is leaning more towards your face. If it isn't for a kiss then you are likely to be disappointed.

"It'll be over before you know it. I'll make it quick", and then he kisses you, a small act to get off the pressure of sexual tension between your bare upper bodies.

Before you think of any tongue in the act, he is breaking off the contact and returns to his position on your chest. He misses the pout that forms on your mouth but right now both of your heads are in cloud nine.

The pain starts again, only this time you are busy reliving how his lips felt in yours; soft, firm and controlled.

You gasp when you feel one of his hands cupping your right breast to further his design but it's lowkey an act empowered by lust which is straining behind the so called professional eyes.

You just sit there flustered out of your mind and then Jungkook is suddenly squeezing, full palm hiding your breasts like it's a protected treasure, but he isn't showing the slightest facial expression other than determined eyes and his lower lip caught between his teeth.

Fuck you can't take it anymore. Jungkook can feel your nipples harden against his hand and his brain isn't helping much to concentrate on the design. But by the grace of some positive karma left on his side, he makes it through the long text and when he is letting go of your chest and standing tall, your skin is popping out with redness on the places the text lays embedded.

He fishes out a mirror for you to look.

"It looks beautiful thank you Jungkook", you smile.

"Can I give you one more tattoo on your left one?", he asks while you are contemplating whether going through the pain is worth it, not to mention you really want to get back at a private space with Jungkook as soon as possible.

"It won't hurt I promise", and then he is kissing you a lot filthier than before; all tongue and teeth, while his hands are grazing on the skin of your waist, pressing a little firmer than before.

The coldness of his lip ring rivaled around your mouth, and you try sucking on it to which Jungkook responds with a growl and pushes his body adamantly against yours.

Skin to skin, you are lost in euphoria of everything happening and finally, you roam your eager hands around his body, to his pecs and the definition of abs.

As your fingers scraped against his scalp, Jungkook is biting eagerly down your jawline to your collarbone and continues his ministrations at a particular spot which is bringing out melodic moan variation from you.

He is going down your skin, licking on your left boob before he starts planting violet tattoos as he had promised. As if it couldn't get better, he is massaging the right breast, in a way to soothe pain.

He loses it when you stutter his name, but he is just a fucking tease when it comes to making love and doing anything in a public space is the last thing he wants to do. There isn't much room for all that he wants right now.

"Why did you choose this particular tattoo Y/n?", he rasps while he is planting small pecks on his artwork, and you reply when he is finally eye level with you

"I just felt like it's a good one", your breaths are uneven and mostly caught in your neck. He pecks your lips before speaking, "Those are lines from Romeo and Juliet".

He takes your hands to trace over a line of text among the many designs on his chest.

which, as they kiss, consume

"We pretty much have a couple tattoo now Y/n", his breath is matched with your pace and you are not very sure how to respond to this new knowledge.

"That's… hot"

You break into giggles along with him, he just can't stop dragging his lips around your skin, but he isn't able to word his feelings right now either.

"I have some aftercare healing ointment for the tattoo at my place, wanna come over?" Now that may be a little lame of an excuse to get his little friend out of his pants but you are too unfazed to analyse any of that.

His hands find place on your ass under the skirt as soon as the door to his apartment closes, and before you know it, you are in his bedroom, sitting on the soft mattress and tongue lost devouring each other.

While eagerly getting rid of every article of clothing, Jungkook notices that you don't have your bra on beneath the shirt, so it's probably back at the parlour, but none of you have the slightest care for it, might as well make an excuse with it later to fuck you in his cabin.

He is pushing you farther towards the headboard, him on top, grinding sensenslesy while your lips mould with his. Though he has his whole body pressed against you, you can't seem to feel his weight at the slightest, every one of his actions were just balanced and perfect.

As Jungkook goes down on you, his smile is evident against your skin, finally able to find out how every one of those scenarios in his head will come to look like. He lets out a satisfied hum being finally able to suck on your tits, your fingers finding place on his hair, twisting it out of stimulation.

His pelvis is flushed harshly against yours, grinding and rubbing against your pussy for as long as he is rejoicing the feeling of moving his tongue around both the nipples.

He stops rubbing after some point and you whimper at the loss but his fingers are soon to meet your core as a quick apology. All your later moans are muffled on his mouth once again.

Feeling the controlled movements of his fingers on your clit, you dig your nails down on his toned shoulders. It's becoming impossible to reciprocate his lewd movements of tongue on your lips at this point as the excitement between your thighs is growing every passing second.

Your mouth remains slightly parted as he removes his face to watch you squirm underneath, lips swollen, deep red and glossy from all the saliva.

He pecks at the shell of your ear before going down past your navel.

You haven't had much heads in the twenty years of your life, most of the guys being completely against the idea which made you feel insecure to bring up the topic in bed, but Jungkook does it like his life depends on it.

He growls at the sight of you dripping into his sheets and he seems to enjoy the idea of being the influence behind it. But none is going through your head at the moment, not the metal on his lips grazing against your folds, or the fact that Jungkook is grinning each time you cry his name, it feels unreal to feel something like this.

His mouth is wrapping against your entrance and he is balancing your lower body on his palms to help him reach the right depths inside you. While all you can muster up is the strength to grope the bedsheets in your fist and close your eyes at the pleasure.

Jungkook brings his head higher to give some attention to the throbbing clit, catching it between his teeth and triggering the bundle of nerves just the perfect dose to have your hips jolting up to his face.

He can't take it himself when you are now whining and chasing for your release, so he is slightly humping against the bed to get some friction.

He licks a slow stripe up till your abdomen and slowly raises to your face, already fucked out and dishevelled to keep up with his dominant orbs.

He swears he had never felt so much warmth and care for sex with any of his previous partners, in relationship or not, all he could think is how good can he treat the pleading eyes underneath him.

"Is there something you like that you want me to do?", he says, fingers grazing once again to your crotch to not deny you from his contact. Only this time he is exploring the tightness of your pretty cunt with two skillful fingers.

Is there? You are not sure. Or in other words you are too caught up at the sense of him fingering you. It's not like you had enough experience or people who cared enough to ask that question. It astounds you that never in this entire foreplay he asked for any favor for himself.

"I'm not sure…", you whisper and then maybe you have something on your mind " um I guess I would like to be choked" Okay this felt embarrassing.

He smiles before sliding his free hand from your lips to your neck, and applies slight force, careful to not hurt you in the slightest bit.

"Is that fine?"

"Yeah", you muffle through the decreasing course of air.

He pulls up your face by the throat to attach lips once more. He just can't seem to get enough of kissing you senseless. Then, the tip of his long ignored cock is teasing the length of your pussy twice before it's stretching you out to the brim.

Bodies flushed and hot, his pace is deep and slow, making sure to kiss the cervix every time he is inside.

He watches as your eyes close shut and flutters around whenever he is grazing against your sweet spot. Both of your ears lost and eager for the moans looming out of each other, his more like what he sounds at the gym. Nice observation Y/n.

In this span of sexual energy you shared, you can make some obvious conclusions. Sex with him was surreal, both in terms of domination and the care he had. Rocking against him and keeping up with his hips was attainable— Compared to the intense eye contact he tries to hold, or the way he cups the side of your face and rubs the pad of his thumb on your cheeks while he kisses you during sinking back in, or the way his eyes glow at the beauty of your body open for him. It makes you feel special and it's difficult to respond to these gestures when you never felt this way before.

Jungkook could tell that from your face, but he hopes he lasts with you enough to help you know the worth you hold. You couldn't think too much about anything when you are busy squeezing around his length and coming twice in the first ten minutes.

By the third orgasm Jungkook is nearing his own and he pulls out to pump a few times before coming on your stomach.

"Was it okay?", his voice is all over the place, still balancing his body on his arms while you are amazed by his strength.

"It was amazing Jungkook", you smile. You have known a lot about Jungkook over the few dates you spent with him. That he likes literature, classics and philosophy, designs tattoos as a subconscious thing, that his game is A-1, and he likes working out almost three hours a day. Good for you. But it wasn't until now you know him to be gentle, like he is afraid to crush you under a feather touch. You don't know him as someone who is staring deep into your face after a good fuck, speaks nothing, smiles widely, and plants a peck on your forehead before getting off the bed.

He does the honors of cleaning both of your bodies with a towel, it's not like you have any strength left in you anyway. And then pulls out an ointment from the bedside table and plops next to your body.

"There. You need this to protect the tattoo", he takes off the nozzle and applies a required amount against the words on your chest and massages against them.

"Now go to sleep Juliet", he mocks, pulling up the sheets over you both "good night".

You snuggle against his hard chest, kissing his pecs before resting on it, "Good night Romeo".

thank you so much for reading!! please leave a feedback!!

★ taglist: @pjmochii (dm, ask or comment to enter the tl!)

★ credits: @/rainbeary on spotify : songs that'll make you feel everything's in slow motion playlist

★ banner & boards: by me :)

a/n: this is my first time writing smut and i basically died of second hand embarrassment during the process. pardon for my untalented ass, i tried this wip continuously for a week and i seriously don't think it could get anything better though it's probably not much.

© banqdanfnfic 2021, all rights reserved. do not modify, translate, or repost my works. modification, translations, and/or redistribution of my works on any platform is strictly prohibited.

[fatiguing-thoughts]

“Fate” - Paul Lahote

Request: The reader (shy!fem!reader) meets Paul (twilight) in the woods while he is in wolf form and he imprints on her. Coz the reader is shy and has no friends (lol) she befriends the 'wolf'. So when they have been friends for a while Paul finally transforms into his human form and explains everything and then fluff? Thank you 😊❤️

The crunching of leaves. That’s all I can hear now. I continued walking forward, loving the noise and the smell of the pine trees around me. 

This was my daily routine now, for the last week. The woods were always my safe place, where I went to clear my head. It’s where I always spent my free time, my time for my personal thoughts.  

I had just moved to Forks about three week ago, I came from Oregon. I wanted to be closer to the Olympic National Forest, and for some reason, it just called to me. It called to be my new home. 

I spent the first couple of weeks unpacking and settling, but the newfound freedom and time to explore the great forests around my small town were beyond enticing. 

The loneliness was setting in, pushing me to go into the woods more and more. Even though I was still lonely out here, it was much better than being alone in the house. I missed my family and friends, but living here was something that just felt like I was doing something… right. 

The loneliness out here wasn’t as deafening than in my small home. I felt better surrounded by trees, listening to the sounds of nature, or the lack of normal everyday sound; it was music to my ears. 

As I pressed forward, I found the new clearing I chose the other day. This one a little bigger than the last, more calming to me. 

I put my blanket down, played some soothing music; a beautiful composition. I took out my sketchbook, drawing my surroundings. 

That’s when I heard the grass shift across the clearing. The leaves crunching, a shift in the atmosphere. The feeling washed over me, I was no longer alone. 

I felt my breath hitch as I tore my eyes away from the sketchbook, looking across the clearing. 

I saw a wolf. An enormous wolf. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I’ve seen wolves, and they’re not anywhere near the size of this. I wouldn’t even come up to the shoulder on this one, it had to be about 6 feet tall on all fours. This couldn’t be real.

I blink hard, but when I open my eyes, it doesn’t go away, my sight was not deceiving me. 

That’s when it happened, our eyes connected. I couldn’t break the eye contact, neither did the massive creature. 

The wind got knocked out of me, I felt something in me shift. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, but it wasn’t fear. 

No, fear was the last thing from my mind. What I felt was peace. I couldn’t imagine why I felt so at peace with a creature that could kill me faster than I could blink, but it’s all I felt. 

I broke the eye contact away, hoping that I didn’t make the situation worse and frighten the wolf. 

It walks a bit closer, head low. I still feel that feeling, the feeling of someone sitting on my chest-- but in the best way. 

“Jesus.” I mutter as it moves closer. 

The paws were easily the size of my head, thumping along the path to me. I felt the ground move as it got closer. 

A look of curiosity and caution painted the enormous face, eyes never tearing from mine. 

“Holy shit.” I mutter again.

It stops in its tracks, about five feet from me, looking at me as if it was asking for permission to approach closer. 

I gulp and swallow the lump in my throat. The sense of peace and calm is still radiating through my body. I stood up from my spot, feeling as if it was the best thing to do at this moment. 

The wolf nods its head towards me, in which I nod back. 

It walks closer before bowing its head, eyes still looking into mine. I see my reflection in the iris. Its eyes were that of a beautiful chocolate brown. I admire the rest of the wolf up close, noticing all of the different grey and silver tones in its beautiful fur. I cautiously reach my hand out, knuckles out, offering it to smell me before I even thought about petting it. 

As I outstretch my hand, I feel the enormous head under my palm. I begin to graze my fingertips along the top of its head, daring to dance my fingertips upon the center top of its snout. 

Its ears laid back against the massive head, leaning more weight into my touch. The fur was so soft, I found myself growing more and more comfortable with the presence of this being. I was way too close now, I lost all sense of caution. 

I smiled at the wolf as I returned the eye contact. It moved even closer, standing against my side. I laid my head upon the side of where its shoulder began. I never felt so small before. I felt a little grumble come from the wolf’s chest before it backed up, and laid down next to my blanket. I plopped myself back down. 

I caught the wolf’s eyes wandering over to my drawing of the clearing. 

“You like art or something?” I chuckled softly, knowing how silly it may seem to be talking to this wolf, though deep down I felt we had some kind of understanding.

The wolf nodded, before placing its head on my leg. The head was heavier than I imagined, but I enjoyed it. It was a soothing weight. The nod must have been coincidental, I tell myself. 

I then begin to scratch behind its ears, and laying the rest of my body down, head still on the front of my thigh. 

“This is the best, well only, company I’ve had in a month.” I smile to myself, once again trying to converse with the creature. 

I heard a large huff of air and felt the warmth on my thigh grow, the breath passing through my jeans.  

I check the time on my phone, seeing that it was later than I thought. The wolf and I sat here for hours, though they passed quickly. 

“I should leave now, sunset is approaching. I gotta get out of here before dark. After all, who knows what’s in here.” I chuckle as I begin to sit up, getting my things together into my backpack. 

The wolf looks at me, puffs again, and almost seems to roll its eyes. I could’ve sworn it looked just like it did. 

As I begin walking, I notice the wolf walking beside me. 

“Ah, walking me to my car? A gentleman, I see.” I laugh softly to myself. 

As we approach the end of the forest, the beginning of the treeline and my parked car in sight, the wolf looks down at me. 

I return the eye contact, and scratch behind the ear again, earning the leaning of the massive head into my hand. 

“This is an everyday thing for me. Same place tomorrow.” I say laughing at how ridiculous I sound. 

I earn another nod from the wolf and can’t help but feel that it truly understands what I’m saying. 

I walk over to my car, the distance between the wolf and I growing. I felt empty as the space grew, a newer feeling. I walked over to my car and looked back to see the wolf standing where I left it. 

I wave goodbye, earning a nod from the massive being. I get into my car and watch it run away, faster than I’ve seen anything move. 

The drive home was quick, as it mostly consisted of replaying the days events. 

I knew for certain that I was either insane or blessed. 

Sleeping tonight came easier than ever before. No nightmares, though the eyes of the beautiful creature filled my dreams that night. 

I woke up the next morning feeling at ease, but also if something was missing. I was almost counting down the minutes until I got to go back to my little clearing. Hopefully doing some work will make the day pass faster. 

I ferociously finish my work for the day, hoping that it would make time pass. Though my mind continuously wanders back to yesterday. 

Was it even real?

What if the creature didn’t show up today? Would I just have imagined the understanding that I thought we had? Was the connection just an imagination? 

No, I know what I saw. I am not insane, I am not making any of this up. 

As the agonizing hours passed, I sat and drew. I found myself drawing the eyes of the creature.  They were all I could see all day. 

I look over at the clock and basically spring off of my couch, grabbing my keys and backpack to head back out to the woods. 

I walk over into the clearing and sit in my previous spot on the blanket. This time I had some snacks with me, as I didn’t eat today from being so distracted. 

I began to peel my orange when I heard the snapping of a branch behind me. I took a sip of my water as I turned to look at what was behind me. 

The deep, chestnut brown eyes looking down at me. I felt such a connection to this wolf, I felt safe. 

It then moves next to where I sat, laying down once more. 

I place my orange down back onto the brown paper bag.

“Blueberries?” I outstretch my hand with a few berries in it, offering it to the creature. 

His snout found my hand, hot breath finding its way into my palm. The rough tongue and soft scraping of teeth against my palm as it took the berries from my hand.

I smile before getting some more, offering again. The wolf once again took the food from my hand. 

I truly enjoyed the company, though it did confuse me more than anything. I couldn’t describe the connection I felt to this magical being, but it was there. 

I began to make some small talk to the wolf, though I know I would not get a response. 

“You’re my first and only friend, bud. I moved here a little less than a month ago. Still unsure of what brought me here, but I think things are starting to add up. I just miss having people around, ya know?” I look over to the creature, noticing that their eyes never left my face. 

The wolf nods, putting his head back into my leg and nuzzling into me. I scratch behind their ears. 

“Anyway, I left Oregon to come here. I miss my friends and family, but I think I’ll be happier here. So far, I’m loving the new scenery. I used to spend a lot of time in the woods back there, it’s where I have my personal thoughts, where I unwind. Now that I’m here, I already have a buddy so soon. I always did it alone, but here you are. Even though you can’t talk, I enjoy your company.” I spoke softly to the being. 

Its eyes never broke from mine, just like always. 

“Your eyes are magnificent.” I softly chuckled. 

The wolf nuzzles closer to me, and I lay down on my blanket. 

This is how I spent my days now. This continued for weeks. Getting closer to this beautiful creature, befriending the most beautiful being that ever existed on the planet. 

Until one day, when I showed up to the clearing at the usual time. My new friend nowhere in sight. 

I sat down in our usual spot, waiting for the arrival of the creature. 

I waited for about ten minutes before I finally heard the relieving crunching of twigs and leaves behind me. 

“It’s about time you showed up, I got worried.” I bit back my smile. 

The wolf had a telling look in its eyes today, almost nervous. 

I scratched behind the large ear, once again being leaned into. I grew to really love this. 

As soon as I sat down, I noticed the wolf didn’t follow suit as per usual. 

It looked me in the eyes, nodding its head to the treeline. My eyes followed as the wolf walked behind the brush. 

I stood up, but didn’t follow the being out of the clearing. I watched from the treeline as it disappeared just out of view. 

Then I heard it. 

The shifting of bones. The brush disturbed from movement. 

I back up cautiously. 

A moment later, a tall, muscular man walks out of the tree line. 

I back up a bit out of surprise. I observed him in his entirety. His cutoff jean shorts, t-shirt, and beat up old shoes. Beautiful russet skin, cropped black hair, and... deep chestnut brown eyes. 

Those eyes. The ones that engulfed me into a state of peace with every look. I would recognize those eyes in a sea of people. 

The tall man smiles at me, walking closer. 

I don’t back up this time, confused yet comforted by the look in his eyes. He was the most beautiful man I had ever seen, I was drawn to him. 

“(Y/N), it’s me.” The man says. 

“How do you know my name?” I question. 

“Well, you told me a few weeks ago. Well, my other form.” He chuckles. 

“Okay, maybe I am nuts.” I laugh softly. 

“No, you’re not. Well, after listening to you for weeks, you might be. But, I have a lot of explaining to do. I’m Paul by the way.” He chuckles. 

“Hi Paul.”

We walk over to my blanket and he sits with me. 

“So, I guess I’ll explain to you what I am.” He says, slightly smirking at me. 

“I think you should, I’m very confused right now.” I smile back. 

“Well, I’m what you would call a shapeshifter. I shift into a wolf. You met me in that form.” His chestnut brown eyes peering into my soul, pleading for my attention. 

“But how? Why?” I manage to speak. 

“Well, we’re not the only magical beings. But it’s a Quileute legend, well clearly a lot more than a legend… I’m a protector of the land and people. But these are tribal secrets.” He says, still never breaking eye contact. 

“Protector? From what?” I was now concerned. 

“Well, vampires.” He answered, laughing at how crazy it sounds to say out loud, to explain to an outsider. 

“Vampires are real? And they’re here?” I ask, slightly getting fearful. 

“Yes. There’s been some coming into the area for some, not for anything good. There’s a coven here, though they’re what you call ‘good ones,’ only feeding off animals instead of humans.” He explains. 

“Wow, this is insane. But, how did you find me?” 

“Well, one of the other members of the pack picked up your scent, as well as one of the vampires we were looking for. So we took turns watching to make sure they didn’t hunt you. Which by the way, you should not be spending so much time in the woods alone. Have you ever heard of bears? Or murderers? Have you learned anything from horror movies?” He laughed. 

“Yes. I have. But it’s just, it’s what feels right for me.” I admitted. 

“I understand. You seem like one with nature.” He laughs.

“So you guys protected me?” I jump back a step.

“Yeah, well we took turns while the others went other places.” 

“Oh, so why did you stay for weeks? And why did you hang out with me?” “Well, when it was my turn, something happened. And then I couldn’t leave you. I needed to be the one who watched over you. I wanted to get to know you, I wanted to meet you. We connected.” 

“I know, I felt that. I feel like I’ve known you for ages. But what happened? How are we connected? Why do I get to know the tribal secrets?” I asked, I needed to understand. 

“Well, you’ve taken this so well. So there’s this thing. It’s called imprinting.” He finally looks down at his hands. 

“Imprinting?” I question.

He looks back into my eyes. 

“Well, it’s kinda like soulmates. Like love at first sight, almost. Although, it doesn’t have to be romantic. It’s kind of like-- when it happens, whoever a wolf imprints on, becomes the world. There is no gravity, it’s them holding you down to the Earth. You would do anything, be anything for them. A brother, a protector, a lover. It’s super intense, but it happens to some of us. And well, you’re my imprint.” 

I looked at him and nodded. I was trying to take this all in, it all made sense as to why I felt so strongly connected. Why I felt so at peace, why I loved being so close. 

“Listen, I know it’s a lot to take in. I understand. But just know that it is dangerous for us to be apart. It’ll hurt us both-- emotionally, physically, mentally. However, you hold the reins here.” He gave me a soft smile. 

“This is a lot. You’re right. But, I feel so connected to you. I wanna be around you, I love being around you. I’m so glad you’re actually a real person. However, I do want to take this slow. I want to get to know you as a person, not just the wolf. I want to meet the real you. I want to expand the friendship before any kind of romantic relationship blossoms too fast.” I say honestly. 

“That sounds like a great idea. Maybe you can come to the bonfire at La Push tonight. I think it’ll help you understand more. Plus then you’ll meet the rest of the pack. We could work on the friends thing, too.” He smiles from ear to ear, probably excited at the mention of a romantic relationship. 

We talked for hours, more about us personally than the imprinting thing, wolf thing, or vampire thing-- we saved that for the bonfire. 

The bonfire went well. I met the whole pack. A lot of banter and rough housing between the guys, especially when the imprint jokes came around. 

I took a liking to Leah, though she was rough on the outside I felt that we would be great friends. 

Over the next few weeks, Paul and I spent almost all our free time together. Things were great. Of course the friends thing didn’t last too long, how could I not want to have this amazing man as my partner? He was caring, sweet, protective, and even handsomer than anyone else I had ever seen. Our relationship was one purer than anything I could’ve ever imagined. 

Getting closer to the pack was great, I always had friends around. I loved Emily and helping her cook for the bottomless pit-stomached boys. It was like I was meant to be around, I guess that’s fate for you. 

Most of all, I cherished every moment I had with Paul. Stealing hoodies and having more fun than I’ve ever had before. 

I loved Paul Lahote more than I could put into words. No words were needed. 

This was happiness, this was pure bliss. 

We spent our days on hikes, fooling around and rough housing at the beach, and doing whatever we could do together. 

He whispered sweet-nothings into my ear at any given chance, causing me to smile, blushing like a maniac. His warm hugs and cuddles, sleeping next to him only brought me peaceful sleep I desired my entire life. 

Fate truly is something. 

_____________________________

Word Count: 3280

Yes this was long. No I’m not sorry. Yes I enjoyed it. Might have been a swift transition, but it’s super long and idc. Thank you for coming folks 

[thatbloodymuggle]

the one with the deal

Tongue Tied (jj maybank) 10/?

masterlist

word count: 2.7k

warnings: filler

playlist

-

Rosie was a procrastinator in all aspects of life: school, work, errands, you name it. She'd push things off until the very last minute; until the anxiety ate her alive and she just had to complete whatever task it may have been. One of the worst feelings in the world was that nagging, anxiety-ridden one in her gut she got from ignoring whatever it was she had to do.

Today, however, Rosie was getting rid of that knot in her stomach.

She stood in the doorway of her mother's old room, staring at the work she had to do. Despite her reluctance, she forced herself into the room and stood next to the bed. Rosie ran her fingers along the freshly-washed bedding (thanks to JJ). With a long sigh and shake of her head, she ripped off the covers and set to work.

Goosebumps erupted all over her skin as she slowly stripped down the bed. Rosie created a neat pile in the corner of the folded sheets and covers. She worked until a bare mattress stared back at her. Next came the closet. She worked meticulously, taking clothing off the hangers one by one. Rosie would fold them and place them into one of two piles: keep or give away.

Normally when Rosie cleaned or worked around the house, she liked to play a CD in her boombox. Today, however, she was content in the silence.

Rosie smiled as her fingers brushed along the silky, smooth fabric of the long, red dress her mom had worn to a Midsummer's when she was just a baby. She folded it even more carefully than the others into the keep pile. The give away pile was rapidly growing, while the keep one remained small.

She wasn't sure how long she stood sorting through the seemingly endless rack of material. It had to have been an hour, at least. But Rosie was in no rush.

Rosie, John B, JJ, Pope, and Kie were all waiting for good weather to go out and search for the sunken ship with the drone. Until then, there wasn't much else to do, so Rosie decided to spend the day clearing out her mother's things; something she'd been putting off for months now.

She pulled out the last item in the closet: a UNC sweatshirt that had belonged to her dad. Rosie began to fold it and place it in the keep pile, but paused. She stripped off the t-shirt she was currently wearing and pulled on the oversized sweatshirt instead. It felt odd wearing it. Rosie could remember her mom wearing it nearly every Sunday and her dad wearing it on boating trips before that. While it felt weird, it also felt right; like it belonged on her body.

Enveloped in the memories of both of her parents, Rosie moved the stack of give away clothes into a large cardboard box she'd pulled out. She then loaded the stack of bedding into an identical box. Rosie's ears perked up as she heard a car pulling into her gravel driveway.

Right on time, she thought to herself.

Rosie hauled the box of clothes out of the room and to the front door of her house. She kicked it open just as Kiara hopped out of her car.

"Need help?" Kie smiled.

"Yeah," Rosie huffed, handing her the box of clothes, "You can load this and I'll go in and get the rest."

Kiara nodded and took the cardboard box from her friend, loading it into the trunk of her car. Rosie didn't particularly want help getting rid of her mother's things. However her car was far too small to fit it all, so Kie offered to drive everything over to Salvation Army with Rosie in her larger car.

Rosie hurried back into the house to grab the box of bedding. She handed it to Kie at the front door to load. Rosie walked back into the front room and eyed the peeling paint of a red rocking chair. Her mother had always loved the chair. Every night before she went to bed, Rosie would find her reading in it. Rosie had always thought it was the ugliest thing. She tried to haul it out of the door, but it proved to be too heavy and bulky.

"Gonna need help with this one," she called out to Kie.

She came running over and the two girls loaded the large chair in the back of Kie's car.

"That it?" Kie clapped her hands.

"Just one more thing," Rosie ran back into the house. She returned with a box of broken pots that had been super-glued back together. "That's the last of it, I think."

"Good stuff," Kiara replied. She hopped into the driver's seat and Rosie in the passenger's. "You sure you wanna give it all away?"

"Yeah, it's a bunch of crap anyway. Gonna convert her old room into a guest room," Rosie shrugged. "My house my rules," she added with a grin.

Kie laughed and started the engine, driving out of the driveway and onto the road.

"I have a question. But you have to hear me out before you say no," Kiara spoke while looking at the road ahead. At least she was a better driver than John B, Rosie thought.

"Shoot."

"So Midsummer's is coming up-"

Rosie opened her mouth to protest but Kie held up her hand, signaling for her to wait.

"-and my parents are making me go. I know it's gonna be all Kooky and awful but it'll be so much less Kooky and awful if you come with me," Kiara shot Rosie a hopeful grin.

Rosie rolled her eyes, "No."

"Oh come on, Rosie. It can't be that bad! I'll let you borrow a dress and everything. All you have to do is show up!"

"I love you Kie, but hours of socializing with ignorant, self-centered assholes just isn't appealing."

Kiara sighed, "I know! But we'll have fun together, I promise!" Rosie still didn't look convinced.

"If you come with me I'll take over one of your shifts at the Wreck," Kie offered.

Rosie's ears perked up a bit, "Two and buy me an ice cream."

"Deal," Kie laughed.

Rosie turned to face her friend, "Will they even let a Pogue like me in?"

"Of course they will, you're a family guest," Kie quickly glanced at Rosie before looking back at the road. "And you're the only one of my friends my dad actually likes."

Rosie laughed at this. She'd really grown on the man since she began working for him at the Wreck. Mr. Carrera had also known and respected Rosie's dad before he passed. Sometimes, Rosie thought, Kie's dad forgot that she was a Pogue.

"Whatever you say," Rosie laughed.

A few minutes later, Kiara pulled the car into the parking lot for the Salvation Army store of the OBX. With the help of some workers, Rosie and Kiara unloaded the boxes and chair. Rosie ignored the twinge in her heart as the boxes and her mom's favorite chair was carried away.

"Where to?" Kie chirped as they got back into her car.

Rosie opened her mouth to say home, but the grumbling of her stomach stopped her. "Ice cream?"

Kiara laughed, "Ice cream it is."

The two girls chat the whole way to the ice cream parlor. It was refreshing spending time with just Kiara. Rosie hadn't realized how overwhelming the male energy of their friend group could be. So Rosie sat contently on a bench outside the shop, licking at a strawberry cone next to Kiara who had a vanilla.

"So," Kie spoke in between licks, "Did JJ ever apologize to you after the kegger? I know it was a while ago, but we haven't gotten a chance to talk about it."

Rosie scrunched her brows together. She'd done her best to forget about that night.

"Some way or another," Rosie shrugged, not indulging her in details.

Kie nodded, "I don't know what's gotten into him lately. He's always insane, but recently it's like he's on crack too."

Rosie snorted at this, accidentally wiping some of her pink ice-cream onto her nose.

"Wouldn't be shocked," she mumbled, wiping the ice-cream off with a napkin. "How 'bout John B? Forever friendzoned?"

Kie shrugged with a sigh, "I think so. I don't know. It's complicated."

"Well he's under the impression he's in the friendzone," Rosie began to eat her cone.

"He is! I mean, I'd be lying if I said there wasn't a part of me that wanted to try something with him, but there's a bigger part of me that feels wrong about it, you know?"

Rosie knew. She definitely knew. But she simply nodded instead.

"Speaking of John B, I told him I'd go surfing with him at sunset. JJ and Pope will probably join too. Wanna come?" Kiara asked her friend.

Any other day, Rosie would be jumping out of her seat to go surfing, but not today. She was weirdly exhausted; not physically, but mentally. All she wanted was to sleep for 15 hours when she got home.

"I'm honestly really tired," Rosie finished off her cone. "I think I'm just gonna go to sleep early tonight--like, really early."

Kiara frowned, but nodded, "Let me give you a ride at least."

The two girls returned to her car and set off towards Rosie's home. It only took about five minutes to reach the small house. Rosie shot her friend one last smile, "I miss hanging out just us two. We should do stuff more often."

Kiara's eyes widened in agreement, "Definitely. Too much testosterone."

The two girls laughed as Rosie unbuckled her seat belt and exited the large car.

"Good weather tomorrow, right?" she called out, holding the car door open.

"Yep. Going deep sea exploring. 11:00. Don't be late," Kie winked and Rosie shut the door with one last wave.

Rosie smiled softly as the car drove away. She then entered her house with a sigh. The first thing she noticed was it felt much emptier; but not in a bad way. Before it had felt suffocating. Now, Rosie could finally breathe a little easier. She peeked out the window to glance at the setting sun. Rosie's eyes drooped and head ached from exhaustion. Not just from today, but from the past few days. She'd had too many sleepless nights thinking about the treasure hunt, her mother, JJ. All Rosie wanted was one dreamless sleep. She longed for the gears in her brain to stop turning. So, with no hesitation, Rosie prepared herself for what would (hopefully) be a dreamless sleep.

-

"All right, JJ. Pin it here!"

"Roger that! X marks the spot."

Rosie leaned against the side railing of the Heyward boat next to Kiara, looking out at the horizon of calm water. Anticipation was thick in the air as the teenagers got ready for what could possibly be one of the greatest days of their lives. They were about to find gold.

John B walked over to where Kiara and Rosie stood, preparing the drone to go underwater.

"All right ladies and gentlemen," he hovered the contraption over the edge of the boat, "to going full Kook!"

Rosie watched as he lowered the drone and handed off the wire to Kiara. Rosie watched with a piece of chalk in hand as the other girl continued to lower it in the water. John B had moved over to the digital map to direct JJ, while Pope took charge of moving the camera of the drone.

"All right, JJ, we're right over it. Ten seconds northwest," John B instructed the blond who was steering the boat.

"Got it. Ten seconds northwest!"

Rosie watched the wire Kiara was releasing until it hit a red mark signaling 100 feet. Rosie took her piece of chalk and made a tally along the edge of the boat.

"100 feet!" the two girls called out. Kiara continued releasing the rope.

Rosie looked up at the sky to see it was much darker than a minute before. She frowned, and anxiety began to settle in her. She did not want to get caught up in a storm and lose the drone.

"And to quote The Hobbit, "Down, down, to Goblin Town. Down, down you go my lad," Pope, who was manning the blank screen, spoke.

Rosie and Kiara continued lowering the drone and counting the number of feet.

"400 feet!" Kiara called out while Rosie marked her fourth tally with the chalk.

The previously calm water was beginning to stir.

"The tide's turning," Rosie added with a wavering voice.

"JJ?" John B grabbed the blond's attention. "Ten seconds easy. South-southeast. Alright?"

JJ replied without turning back, "Copy that!"

The water seemed to be getting rougher by the second, and John B's directions reflected that.

"JJ, 20 seconds mid-speed south!"

"Aye aye!" he affirmed, but the boat was having difficulty turning. Dark clouds darkened the previously bright sky, and thunder rumbled.

JJ turned back towards the two girls, "Keep the tether out of the prop!"

"I'm trying!" Kie panicked

"700 feet!" Rosie called out and made another mark along the edge of the boat.

The waves were now rocking the boat a great deal. Kie released the rope even faster than before, and Rosie stumbled slightly underneath he shifting weight.

"JJ, hold steady!"

"900!" Rosie yelled, struggling to maintain her composure.

"JJ, we'll turtle in this storm!" Pope verbalized everyone's concern.

The two girls continued with the rope, "920!"

"John B, there's too much current. We're gonna lose it!" Kie cried as the rope was pulled away from her. Rosie rushed over to her friend and pulled back with her in an attempt to regain control.

John B yelled at his friend behind the wheel, "Southwest, JJ. Hard!"

While the two girls held the wire steady, Pope and John B scanned the screen.

"What do you got Pope? Come on, man. What do you see?"

"Nothin'. A whole lot of nothin'."

Kie and Rosie released the rope a little more, "960! 970! 980!"

Pope shouted in excitement, "I'm at the bottom! JJ, hold steady!"

Suddenly, the water seemed to calm and the thunder stopped. It was as if the storm knew they'd found it.

"Good God," John B breathed in awe.

Rosie and Kie rushed over to the screen John B and Pope were staring at. It took a moment for their eyes to adjust, but sure enough, there it was. The Royal Merchant. The four teenagers watched silently as Pope moved the camera around, searching for the gold. But the more it scanned the ship, the more their hopes dropped.

"It's not there," John B sighed, "just pull the drone up."

He hung his head in disappointment.

"We can do another pass. Recharge the battery. We can go back down!" Pope tried to remain optimistic, but John B and JJ weren't having it.

"Guys we've been through it 3 times. There's nothing there!" JJ yelled.

"Shut up!" Rosie hissed.

The blond whipped around to glare at her, "What? It's true!"

"The gold could be buried, we don't know!" Kie sided with Pope, but it wasn't convincing enough.

"If it was there, it would've been found on the metal detector, okay?" John B yelled in distress. "Somebody beat us to it."

The anticipation that had filled the air morphed into disappointment. But no one's disappointment was greater than John B's. Rosie would be lying if she said she wasn't a little let down, but she felt much worse for her friend. His motivation for doing all this had been his father--it wasn't about the money.

So the Pogues rode back to shore slowly in silence. No one spoke. They all just listened to the distant rumbling of thunder and the splashing of waves.

-

taglist:

@tangledinsparkles @lovelymaybankk @my--heroine@thelonelyumbrella @floretsoleil @flick24 @books-netflix-and-pizza@dad-ee-drea @dolanfivsosxox​ @anahgiedd @love-bean​ @maleriefay @mrs-maybank @shawnssongs​ @downbytheouterbanks​ @lostwnoah @2410slb​ @daygiowvibe​ @thesailbells​

-

another filler oops! next chapter is gonna be BIG though ;)

[eleven-times-lively]

The First Day

In which You and Fred send your daughters off to Hogwarts for the first time.💕 masterpost

Summary: You and Fred part ways with your girls for the first time, and the newfound freedom makes you realise new truths about each other. Word Count: 3295 Note: This took soooo long to write!! Sorry for the delay! Also, the next chapter will be 85.7% angst. Also sorry this is so short. I know I said it would be longer, and it was meant to be but I wrote the ending and it made me feel things and it felt like a fantastic stopping point and bridge to the next chapter. So ch.8 will open with the original ending to this chapter.

You woke up, still groggy, to the sun shining in through the window. You rolled over and felt a still sleeping Fred beside you. His chest moved up and down with his shallow breathing as he slept. You peacefully admired your husband as you transitioned into a more awake state. However, the moment of peace was quickly disrupted as you heard shouts in the halls and your doorknob shaking before the door flew open. Fred shot up in the bed, thrown out of his deep sleep, as his gaze quickly whipped around the room. The two of you were ready for a dementor attack, but alas it was just your two daughters, staring up at you from the foot of the bed with their big, innocent doe eyes. 

The two pairs of eyes blinked up at you and Fred expectantly… silently. You and Fred exchanged confused glances, looking between each other and the girls. The moment of silence was short lived as the girls quickly broke into a flurry of movement and words. All you could catch were drawn out mentions of shopping, wands, and floo powder. You and Fred chuckled to yourselves as you peeled away from the bed. 

Fred snuck behind an excited Callie and snatched her up into his arms, earning an excited shriek from the girl. You did the same with Cassie and together you all headed down to the living room for morning tea. 

You were all settled around the dining table, the girls finally calmed, when you had a normal discussion about the day ahead. 

“So,” Fred began, fingers tapping his mug as he peered over the edge, “are you ladies excited to get your school supplies?” 

“Absolutely!”, Callie cheered, reaching for the letter that was on the shelf behind her. “I can’t wait to get my wand, and to organise everything to get ready!” You and Fred chuckled at your daughter, a gleam in her eye at the promise of packing and planning.

“And I…” Cassie began, drawing out the vowel, “am excited to visit all the shops and meet some people! Hopefully some students will be there!”

You and Fred nodded and smiled at your daughters in front of you. The once adorable babies had turned into young, intelligent girls that would soon be off to school.

“But still,” you piped up, a warning tone in your voice, “that doesn’t mean you can burst into Mummy and Daddy’s room unannounced.” You glanced down at them, not particularly mad or upset.

“Oh, come one, love,” Fred responded to you, “they were having fun. Remember how excited we were?”

“Of course, Freddie,” a more scolding tone hinting at the edges of your voice, “but barging in like that is rude and they need to know that.”

“Nonsense,” was all he said as he stood up.  He was headed to the kitchen when he noticed the twins were no longer seated at the table. “Guess we were so busy that we didn’t even notice our daughters slip away.”

You just rolled your eyes and headed out to the back gardens, and you noticed a few more chips of paint had come off the doorframe. You made a mental note to fix that later.

***

A few hours later, it was time to head to Diagon Alley. You had promised the girls you could use the Floo Network as a special treat. You had access through your fireplace, but the girls knew it was off limits due to the risk and dangers should they not properly dictate.

After a long lecture and teaching of the Floo Network, the four of you arrived in Diagon Alley. “Should we just let them off on their own?” Fred asked, wrapping an arm around your waist as you walked. 

“Seriously?”, you cocked an eyebrow up at him, leaning into his grasp. The girls were already a few metres ahead of you, bounding through the crowds.

“Yeah,” he responded coolly, “they know the place like the back ‘a their hands. They grew up here, y/n.” He was walking at a calm, breezy pace, seemingly forgetting that this was the last time you’d see your daughters for an extended period of time… until Christmas at least. 

“I don’t know, Freddie,” you spoke reluctantly, the thought behind your words evident.  “It’s a special day, we should stay with them.”

Fred silently agreed, nodding as he walked. The four of you went in and out of each shop, the girls stopping to admire the various wonders held within each. 

“Look at this!” Cassie exclaimed, admiring the ostentatious, advanced-skill telescope before her. She peered her eye in the wrong end and let out an exaggerated “Wow!” in reaction. You chuckled as you ruffled her hair and walked past.

“I think we should stick with something simpler, love,” you reminded as you walked over to Callie, who was selecting her phials. “Crystal, eh?” you acknowledged her over her shoulder, causing her to startle slightly. You chuckled and placed a hand on her shoulder. “May look nicer,” you began, “but glass will last longer. Don’t want to have to buy a new set next year.” She nodded and grabbed the glass set instead. 

With scales, cauldrons, phials, and telescopes in hand, the four of you headed out of the first store and back into the bustling chaos of the street. You and Fred quickly apparated the supplies back home before guiding the girls into Madam Malkin’s for uniforms. 

After not twenty minutes, you realised this would be the most daunting part of the day.

“But whyyy is it all black?” Cassie groaned, picking up her winter cloak. You opened your mouth to respond, but Callie beat you to it.

“Because,” she began, her face pointed, “it shows uniformity and professionalism. This is a school, not a funhouse,” she said matter-of-factly before wandering off. Your eyes widened in awe and confusion before guiding Cassie to the gloves section.

Fred leaned down to her, whispering, “Don’t worry, love, I hated the uniforms too.” He winked.

“But daddy!”, she giggled, “that was so long ago! You haven’t been to school in ages!”

Fred brought his hand up to clutch his chest and his face contorted in mock offense. “How dare you!” he jokingly gasped, “I will have you know it has only been…” he paused for a moment, eyes darting back and forth as he counted in his head, “seventeen years since I’ve graduated!” His look of ‘ha! I’ll show her!’ quickly turned into a look of ‘Merlin, am I that old?’ as he scoffed and walked off. You chuckled and helped Cassie finish up her selections. 

Hours later, countless books carried, and galleons spent, it was time for the much awaited wand selections. The girls were practically jumping for joy as they skipped towards Ollivander’s. They got mere steps in the door before they stopped dead in their tracks, heads tilted upward and mouths open in awe. The both gasped as they spun around, taking in the sights around them. It had never occurred to you how amazing the sight truly was. Boxes upon boxes stacked on every available surface, ladders flying about the room and wands floated about, excited wizards grasping their very first wands for the very first time. It was truly intimidating and astounding all at once.

You and Fred each placed your hands on the girls shoulders, guiding them within the shop to the front counter. You took in a deep sigh, awaiting the long, enduring process ahead. 

            The girls looked on in amazement as they were asked questions before their wands found them. After many moments, anxious waiting from you and Fred, and the girls bouncing up and down, Callie and Cassie had received their wands. 

            Cassie has been selected by an intricate and unique wand. A nine and a half inch cedar wand with a unicorn hair core and a dainty, intricate swirled carving down the length of the hilt. 

            Callie had been selected by a stoic, powerful wand. Eleven inches, hawthorn wood, and a dragon heartstring core made up the fierce and daunting wand adorned with runes along the length. 

            You felt tears prick at your eyes as you wrapped an arm around Fred’s shoulders. Remembering your own wand selection, how overjoyed and nervous you were; awaiting the new chapter ahead. He placed a kiss to your head as the two of you rejoined the girls, congratulating them and guiding them out of the shop.

***

Hours later, after checking in on the store and finally heading home, the girls got set on packing. It was just as much of a chaotic mess as you’d expect.

“Cassie, that's my jumper!” Callie shrieked, taking the garment from her twin.

“No it isn’t!” Cassie shot back. “It has a ‘C’ on it!,” she grabbed the jumper back, “it’s mine!” Fred was snickering in the corner, watching the whole thing play out.

“Both our names start with a ‘C’ you daft bim-,” 

“Calliope!”, you shouted when you came into the room at just the right time. “You do not call your sister names!” You weren’t particularly mad, but you were yelling. “It is her sweater,” you explained, “yours are blue, Cassie’s are purple.” You huffed as you stared down at them. Tensions were high and you didn’t get like this often, they just sat staring up at you. Callie rolled her eyes and went back to her packing while Cassie snickered and turned back to her own.

Fred had a smirk on his face that was quickly gone when you walked over to him. “Alright, love?”, he tested.

“Clearly not,” you groaned, walking out of the room.

***

“Hey, love?” Fred asked from the corner of the room. The girls had long since gone to bed, and you were curled up on the couch with a book.

“Hmm?”, you responded, sitting up on the couch to face him. 

He sat behind you and pulled you into his lap. His arms wrapped tightly around you as he breathed in your sweet scent and placed a kiss to the top of your head. “Can we talk about earlier?”

“What about?”

“You got pretty upset with the girls. Perhaps unreasonably so?” His arms squeezed tighter and you could hear the hesitation in his voice. 

“They were arguing, Fred. Perhaps unreasonably so,” you lightly chuckled, “Callie called her sister a bimbo, Fred.” The agitation was evident in your tone.

“Well, yeah, but I think you overreacted just a touch, love.” His fingers came to play with your own. The sly git knew just what to do to calm you down, trying his hardest to avoid a fight.

“Overreacted?” the annoyance was evident, but your tone remained level. “I don’t know about you, but I won’t have our daughters treat each other that way. At least not in this house.”

“That’s just sibling banter, love,” he placed another kiss to your head as he felt you tense in his lap. “I know you don’t have experience with that, but trust me it’s normal, especially for twins.” He expected another retort, and was considerably confused when he felt you shaking. 

You sighed and began to cry lightly. “What if they won’t be okay without us?” The tears streamed down your face as worse-case scenarios ran through your head. 

Fred gripped your hips and turned you around so that you were seated on his lap, fully facing him. His thumbs gently wiped away tears as his hands cupped your face. “Love,” he whispered, gazing directly into your eyes. He needn’t say more, his soft visage seeming to touch your soul. You’d had the conversation countless times before, and the words didn’t need to be said again. Deep down you knew that the twins would be perfectly fine on your own. But your motherly instinct and need to constantly protect them continued to overshadow and cloud your judgement. Fortunately your strong, doting husband was constantly there for you to calm all of your fears with just one look or the touch of his hands.

The tears stopped and your breathing steadied as you leaned into him. You came to rest yourself on his chest, legs stretching out across him. He ran his hands up and down your back, occasionally coming to brush through your hair, and you buried yourself in his chest. You were nearly asleep when you felt him gently drum his fingers on your hips. “We should head up to bed, love,” he whispered as his hands lightly gripped your hips.

You hummed against him, mind in agreement but body remaining steadfast against your husband. He chuckled lightly as he stood up and held you in his arms. He carried you upstairs and into your bed, where he nuzzled up next to you and held you close. His strong arms wrapped around you as you relaxed and warmed to his touch. You both quickly drifted off to sleep, both in complete adoration for one another.

***

The day finally came where you’d have to say goodbye to the twins. You and Fred woke up early, prepared to have to drag the girls out of bed, but you should’ve known better because they ended up waking you at an ungodly hour.

You and Fred prepared a final family breakfast for the girls. A full English was passed around, along with jokes, memories, and a few held back tears on your part. After breakfast, you and Fred helped the girls gather their trunks, cases, and bags and bring them downstairs. Before apparating away, you were sure to give them a quick chat.

“Now girls,” you began, crouching down to their height and taking a soft, maternal tone, “it’s going to be very busy at the station, so you need to stay by me or daddy at all times.” One twin rolled her eyes, the other flashed an awkward smile. “I’m serious,” you pressed, but while smiling at the girls, “I just want the two of you to be safe.”

“We know, mummy,” they responded in unison. You and Fred chuckled as you each took one girl’s hand and apparated to King’s Cross Station.

Upon arrival the girls stoop, mouths agape. “It’s huge!”, mused Cassie.

“That it is,” responded Callie. They stood in amazement a few moments longer as you and Fred tried to guide them inside.

“Just you wait, ladies,” he began, “the fun is just beginning.” He winked at you as the four of you entered the main building of the station.

Callie glanced down at her ticker. “Platform nine and… three quarters?” She looked up at you and Fred in confusion.

“Have you learned nothing of magical history?” Fred tsked jokingly. “Platform nine and three quarters is how we get to the…” he leaned down to whisper, “Hogwarts Express.”

Callie didn’t seem convinced, but continued nonetheless. Cassie, however, lit up with absolute glee.

The four of you got to the brick wall of Platform 9 3/4 and the girls once again looked around in awe and amusement. They were both about to question the absurdity of it all when they saw an older wizard zoom past and straight into the wall, followed by his parents who exchanged warm smiles with you and Fred. You quickly explained the process to the nervous looking girls. 

You and Fred gave them a quick chat, convincing them that absolutely nothing bad could happen. You took Cassie’s hand, Fred took Callie’s, and you prepared to cross over. You and Cassie went first, followed by Fred and Callie. You and Fred exchanged warm smiles and a small kiss on the other side, forgetting the exciting rush of crossing the platform. “Haven’t done that in seventeen years,” he mused. The girls were absolutely speechless as they took in the sights around them. Wizards roamed everywhere. Spells were shot about from those old enough, siblings pushed about their carts together, and there was an abundance of nervous first-years looking just like your twins.

“That was fun!” Cassie exclaimed, “We should do that again.” You and Fred both chuckled as you guided the girls through the crowd and over to Bill and Fleur, whose oldest daughter was the only other Weasley child old enough to attend Hogwarts yet. 

The four of you chatted for a bit while Callie and Cassie acquainted themselves with Victoire, who was already in her third year. Wizards were filing on the train at a steady pace, saying their goodbyes and finding their friends. Victoire said a swift goodbye to Bill and Fleur before heading to the train, promising to save space for the twins. Bill chuckled as he watched her leave. “Clearly it gets easier,” he smiled at you and Fred before him and Fleur took a few steps back to give the four of you some time.

Fred knelt down to the girls, tears already pricking at his eyes. “Calliope, Cassiopeia,” he spoke at a steady pace, the girls were attentive--not used to hearing their full names, “I love you so, so much and I am immensely proud of you. This is a big step forward, and I have full confidence that you will accomplish great things and make your mother and I very, very proud.” He held back his tears as best as he could, but a few inevitably fell. He gave each girl a kiss on the forehead and a tight hug before giving you a chance with your daughters. 

“Girls,” you smiled as you knelt down as Fred had, “I know I may not be the most pleasant at times, and I may not be your favorite person all the time, but please know how much I truly love you. Everything I do and say, and if I’ve gotten a little mad lately, is all because I’ve been trying to prepare you. I want you to do the best you can and to see you continue to grow into the wonderful young ladies I know you are. Please remember that we love you very much, and we’ll be thinking about you the entire time you’re gone.” You smiled and chuckled through your tears and you wrapped both of the girls in one big hug. 

The four of you said final goodbyes as the girls reluctantly boarded the train. Their cute little heads quickly popped out of one of the nearby windows, their gaze quickly finding you and Fred. And just as promised, they were seated with Victoire. You couldn’t stop your tears as the train began to pull away. Fred wrapped an arm around you and placed a kiss atop your head as the two of you waved goodbye to your girls as the train left the station. You waited until you could no longer see the train to leave, and even then needed some coaxing from Fred. You apparated home where he pulled you into a tight embrace. 

All of your emotions came forth at once. You were sobbing and shaking in the entrance to your home. Fred had his hands wrapped tightly around you and you buried into his neck. Tears streamed from his own eyes as well, both of you a mess of feeling. The two of you stayed that way for a while, processing the new dynamic settling into the home, the new chapter you’d begin, and the uncomfortable silence in the home. No longer were the pitter-patter of little feet, the high pitched giggles of young girls, the bubbling laughter from the four of you at family dinner. Instead there was an uncomfortable, deafening silence bleeding into the room. An uneasy feeling washed over you. Things were surely going to change. You and Fred were alone together for the first time in eleven years, and maybe it wouldn’t be exactly as you’d hoped.

[starshinegoblin]

like the midnight sun

This is set in my Our War of Hearts au; @ruensroad -  so here is my slice of the Xicheng pie that’s baking for the au. I hope that you like it! Lan Xichen didn’t care how the argument came about or how the new Jiang sect Leader came to be the one doused in red wine. All he cares about is that an entire decanter of wine was thrown at Jiang Cheng’s face soaking his robes. He should feel guilty about being so pleased about Wen Sect Leader Qing’s second cousin, Wen Chao’s drunken behavior. The latter still sour about losing to Wangji during the tournament. But Lan Xichen isn’t even the slightest bit apologetic because he’d been able to usher a flustered and embarrassed Jiang Cheng from the dining hall towards his rooms.

He left Jiang Cheng in the front room still trying to pat down the wet spots with a handkerchief that had been given to him. Lan Xichen grabbed one of his more fitted sets of robes before going to the bathing room. He hung up the robes upon the rack, then poured warm water into the bowl so that the younger man could easily clean himself up.

In his state, Jiang Cheng hadn’t realized where he was being taken until he was already inside the hanshi. His hands immediately dropping from his stained teal silk outer robe to his sides. His eyes wide taking in the Lan sect leaders room. For all the times he’s visited previously they’d only ever met outside on the porch or in the courtyard. The room was neat and orderly. Exactly what he expected of the man.

Speaking of the man. Jiang Cheng watched the other step out from behind the divider where most likely his bed is with a small bundle of robes. It wasn’t until the older man came from what must be his bathing room extending a towel to him that he realized he should go back to his guest room. He didn’t want the others gossiping about Lan Xichen.

Still flustered he made himself speak up, “I apologize for what happened.”

“No need.” Lan Xichen chuckled “It’s done now and you need to get out of those robes.”

“I’m fine, really. I could just back to my rooms.”

“And what? I know that through our letters you’d only meant to be here tonight then leave. So you weren’t prepared for this to happen. Now, I insist,” Lan Xichen replied gesturing to his bathing room.

“I-alright.” Jiang Cheng replied with a quick nod and a thin smile in gratitude. How was he supposed to deny the offer? It was generous and he also didn’t want to offend him. However, it felt like this moment was more than clothes. Gathering his courage once more, he took the offered towel. He leaned against the door, sighing heavily once it was shut behind him. He wasn’t blind and the other wasn’t as subtle as he liked to think he was. Jiang Cheng just didn’t understand it.

What made Lan Xichen be drawn to him? He was nothing like his charismatic brother or enchanting sister. Jiang Cheng knew that he was more made for war not love. The way their father had wanted it. So that he never out shined Wei Ying. He was born to be in the shadows and married off if need be. And it still would have been that way if his Mother hadn’t taken control after their father’s demise. Now their roles were reversed. Not that Wei Ying minded. His brother is happily married to his proclaimed soulmate. All thanks to him, Lan Xichen, and Wen Ning.

The knock on the door startled him out of his thoughts. “Jiang Cheng, is everything alright? Do the robes fit alright?” Lan Xichen asked through the door. Jiang Cheng jumped managing to keep his very manly yelp stuck in his mouth.

“Uh, yes they do and I’ll be out in just a moment.” He answered finally moving to get underdressed.

“Take your time. I’ll make us some tea.” Lan Xichen replied moving away from the door.

Jiang Cheng huffed before heading over to the basin. He took off his soaked outer robe neatly folding it before taking his hair piece out. He touch tested the braids to find them soaked as well. He sighed undoing the braids. He’d have to wash his hair. Hopefully by the time he went back to his room it would be dry.

On the shelf above the basin he saw bathing oils. He didn’t want to use any of it but he didn’t want his hair to get tangled. He used the one with the all too familiar scent of lavender. It surprised him that the water was warm and he was grateful for it. After washing his hair, he shed his damp inner layer. Surprisingly his under shirt was too. He hadn’t thought it would be.

Before the water grew cold he wiped his chest and arms down. His eyes finally taking in the robes hanging on the rack waiting for him. The weighty emotions coming back. Jiang Cheng took a shallow breath trying to calm his racing heart. These were robes he’d seen the other wear before. He decided to not go down that mental rabbit hole and got dressed.

Lan Xichen was glad he was sitting down when the sect leader came out. He was blessed by the heaven’s above with the sight. He’d made the right choice in lending him his navy robes with the white and dark grey inner robes. Despite their similar frames he did have a few inches on the younger man making the sleeves and hem longer. To him, Jiang Cheng is beautiful like the midnight sun all the time, but to see his sect colors on the man and his normally up hair down. It set his blood on fire with desire. He only hoped his normally controlled face didn’t betray him. He was almost positive that Jiang Cheng would leave if he saw even a flicker.

“You’re just in time. “ Lan Xichen smiled warmly to him, "Come and join me.” The older man offered gesturing for him to take a seat across from him as he poured them both a cup of tea.

Just like the robes, the tea felt like it would be leading to something else to Jiang Cheng. He didn’t know if his heart or mind could take it. He had the physical and emotional scars of wanting to be loved. Wouldn’t this be greedy to want this? To let the other man in, despite Jiang Cheng himself, not being the least bit deserving of it? His grip tightening on the neatly folded robes in his hands. He remained where he stood.

“I thank you again, Lan Xichen but I -” Jiang Cheng started but Lan Xichen interrupted him.

“What? It is still too early and people will be leaving the dining hall. Why not stay here and chat till past curfew then you can go back. In the morning before you leave. I will have-” Xichen gestured to the bundle of soiled robes in Jiang Cheng’s hands “those ready for you. Anyways, like I have said before, there is no need to thank me. Now, come.”

Lan Xichen knew that he was borderline bullying the other now. But how could he not want to hold onto this moment longer? He saw Jiang Cheng’s eyes flick to the door before a thin smile formed on his lips.

“Very well.” Jiang Cheng replied finally walking towards him.

Lan Xichen inwardly preened knowing he had no right to be doing so. He scooted the cup towards Jiang Cheng as he settled across from him. Sapphire eyes peering down to see an orange peel curl floating in the cup. The tea was Jiang Cheng’s favorite orange spiced tea. A newer more intimate smile settling on the other’s face. The expression making his heart ache happily.

“Earlier, I believe I heard you tell xiao-Sang that you’re building a school dedicated to the arts? And it will have a theatre?” Lan Xichen asked hiding his own smile behind his cup.

“Uh, yes, I am.” Jiang Cheng replied setting his cup down before continuing on telling him about the project. It would be a new type of arts school that would allow the creativity of the students to share with the community as they progressed.

“I look forward to seeing it once it is finished and open to the public.” Lan Xichen stated pouring another cup of tea for Jiang Cheng.

“Why would you want to do that?” Jiang Cheng asked confused. He inwardly grimaced at the sharpness of his tone. 

“You should ask why I would not?” Lan Xichen replied setting the teapot down, “You’ve done an amazing job of building the sect that your father and mother let decline because of their own pursuits.” He didn’t like how Jiang Cheng would put down his hard work. The younger man had been handed a fractured sect when he became sect leader. It had only taken him a year to fix it and make the sect stronger. Jiang Cheng needed to recognize that he is a good man, loved by his people and respected by his fellow sect leaders.

Jiang Cheng was about to say something but Lan Xichen raised his hand to stop him.

“Let me show you something.” Lan Xichen stated as he stood up. He wanted to share a piece of himself that only his uncle, brother, and his sworn brother’s know about. 

Jiang Cheng didn’t know what he thought the room would hold but he hadn’t expected it to be Lan Xichen’s painting room. Now he knew why that Lan Xichen has been so interested in the school. He is an artist of not just music. Breathtaking landscapes hung on the walls and leaning against the wall on the floor. Along one wall an open face cabinet holding his paints, brushes, and canvases. In the center of the room in front of the window is the older man’s easel. He walked forward seeing the start of a star filled night sky that seemed familiar to him. He reached out his hand to touch it but stopped letting his hand go back to his side.

“It’s beautiful.” Jiang Cheng said without looking away from the beautiful unfinished painting as Lan Xichen came to stand beside him. 

“I will send to you when I’m done.” Lan Xichen stated seeing the look of awe on Jiang Cheng’s face. He filing away in his mind the sight before him. He knew now that school wasn’t just to honor Wei Wuxian but it was for himself. It made Lan Xichen’s heart swell with pride. 

“You don’t have -” Jiang Cheng started snapping his head around to look Lan Xichen. 

“Of course I don’t Jiang Cheng but I will do so anyway.” Lan Xichen replied smiling at him. 

“Then I..I look forward to seeing it finished.” Jiang Cheng replied saying how own words back to him with a smirk that made Lan Xichen fall a little bit more in love with him.

[nightwolfomega]

Baked with Blood

Part 1

One of the best ways to show your love is the way you bake, Betty loved baking even when she was a baby. She loved to watch her mother and great aunt make the most delicious and extraordinary cakes and pies. As a kid she dreamed about opening her own bakery and making other people smile from her own delightful baked goods. 

Moving to a town called Mayfield filled with farming orchards would be the best idea to help her start off her little quest to become a master baker. Driving up to her little house, the paint looked worn and the windows dusty. It was slow progress but still progressed nonetheless, she managed to also rent a little shop she had close to town. It was almost finished with furnishing and safety protocols for the place all she had to do now was start baking and presenting it to the public to consume,

To be honest she spent more time fixing that place up than her own. she pulled out a few more boxes from the trunk of her car and walked up to the little porch and sat the boxes down on the rocking chair doing a couple of trips, going back and forth to get more boxes and finally got the final box on the porch. Unlocking the door, she grabs the boxes and walks in. 

The smell of fresh paint still lingered on the walls, luckily the house looked better on the inside than the outside. Each step the wooden floorboards creaked as she sat the boxes on the couch, whipping her head and blowing out some air. Betty continues bringing boxes inside until she finally collapses on a large recliner. 

It was funny how chilly it was getting outside yet now she was working up a sweat, “Good gracious, finally managed to get everything in before it got too cold out.” standing back up and walking over to the kitchen, she unpacked all of her kitchen supplies before even working on unpacking the other things for her semi new house.

She pulls one of the many cook books she had made filled with all the recipes her family had and flips through it “Hmm, I could go for something with apples.” scanning the index for recipes for the autumn weather. “Ooh, Apple crumble. That would be so perfect.” tapping on the letters. She walks over to the fridge to get some apples but to her dismay there were none. “Ah dang it I forgot to get some.” rubbing her eyes. 

Pulling her phone out she looked up to see if there were any orchards opens selling apples, luckily it was early in the morning, hopefully she’ll have time to go to an orchard and get some apples. Her eyes manage to catch a bundle pluck sale at one apple orchard. Pluck enough apples to fill 5 medium sized baskets for fifty dollars, “Fantastic! I better head on over there quick to get the best ones.” 

Rushing out to her car and this time getting a jacket, she drives off to the Wimbledon Apple orchard. Luckily there were only two cars there, excellent she got there in time. She grabs two baskets and walks up to one of the many trees seeing the yellow ones ripe for the picking, “Yes! These will be perfect!” she starts to scan and pick for the best ones wanting to make sure she got the best apples to bake with.

Looking up higher Betty saw the biggest ones on the tallest branches, she was determined to get those now. Just had to pluck one more that was reachable, she was struggling greatly to get it but it didn’t deter her persistence to grab it. 

When her fingers finally managed to reach out to touch the apple a large scarred hand reaches out and grabs it. Her eyes in a matter of seconds locked onto the man that stared back at her. Wearing a flannel shirt in worn overalls with boots caked with mud and grass.

“OH!!” in a shrill tone of voice flinching away from him clutching her hand to her chest. 

The man jerks back also surprised that she saw him, plucking the apple off with it. 

“Good lord you gave me a startle!” feeling her heart pound loudly in her chest breathing a bit faster now. 

He frowns at her now, he didn’t mean to scare her like that but when he saw her struggling to reach he just wanted to help. It wasn’t his fault he had bad scars on his body and was bigger than most people. He looks at the apple then holds it out for her. 

Betty tilts her head “Wait? Were you getting that for me?” calming down from her little jump scare, his chapped lips pressed firmly together and his eyes looking down slowly nodding. She couldn’t help smile “Oh sweetie that is so kind of you.” stepping up to him. 

About to say more there was a loud commotion “Hey! You get the hell out of here you thieving devil boy!” Mr. Wimbledon shouts as a few other people rushed with him. 

“What are they talking about?” looking back at him to see the poor man terrified now “Hey hey honey what’s the matter?” she asks worriedly. Looking back at the crowd she put the pieces together quickly and knew they were going to do something bad to him, thinking fast she grabs his hand firmly “Follow my lead.” she spoke up to him. 

Betty didn’t know why she wanted to help this guy all of a sudden but she watched plenty enough movies to know how frightening a country mob could be on a person. 

He froze in shock feeling her hand hold his, When the people got close Betty called out loud and clear “Thank you so much for offering your help to pluck these apples with me! It would have taken me hours if I did it by myself!” 

The farmer stops “Young lady you shouldn’t be anywhere near that man he’s bad news!” stomping his foot down. Betty turns to look at the crowd keeping her hold on his hand firmly even standing in front of him like a shield “I don’t really see how a man helping me grab an apple from the high branches makes him bad news, if anything he’s good news. I know darn well I’m not tall enough to grab those delicious beauties and he was so kind to offer me his help with it. Isn’t that right?” looking back at the man. 

His hand was shaking and getting sweaty fast, “Just nod.” she whispers to him. In a quick reflex he nods “There see? He’s not doing any harm to anyone.” smiling happily to the others. They pause and Mr. Wimbledon makes a deep frown “After you get this woman enough apples I want you out of my orchard you hear me boy!” he spoke sternly. 

The man nods as his body shivered, he held onto her hand more firmly now. When the people went back and the other people plucked apples though keeping an eye peeled on him. Betty sighs “What the heck was that about?” arching a brow, turning back to him she saw he was still startled by what could have happened. 

“Are you okay honey?” her heart sore just seeing the poor man so scared, it was like looking at a shivering dog huddled in the corner. “I’m so sorry to put you in a position like that.” feeling bad that she practically forced this guy into helping her now. She noticed he was still holding her hand, using her other one she gently rubs her thumb onto his knuckles “It’s alright now.” she coos trying to give him comfort. 

His eyes drift down to see her doing that, it made his heart stomach filled with fluttering butterflies. How long was it that he got this delicate nurturing touch from someone, far longer than he would have liked to remember. 

“How about I give you half of my apples to pay you back? Would you be okay with that?” unsure if that would even be good enough. “Or if you want I can bake you something with them if you like.” maybe that would be better she hoped to herself. 

The large man paused and looked at her tilting his head curiously, “Do you like apple pie?” crossing her arms, he thought about it and shrugged. “Okay, how about apple crumble?” raising a brow. His eyes widened, Apple crumble? that was one of his favorite desserts his mother would always make for him and his brothers.

“From the look on your face you must like apple crumble, tell you what big guy. If you help me pluck enough of the biggest apples off these trees I’ll make you the best apple crumble you’ve ever eaten in your life.” Betty offers holding out her hand to him “Deal?” giving him a smirk.

He nods and shakes her hand with the other one, to her surprise though she could only feel half of the hand, when she notices he’s missing his pinkie and ring finger. Pulling her eyes back up to him she grins “Okay, lets pick some apples.” excitedly lifting up the second basket.

“My names Betty by the way, I recently moved here not too long ago.” holding the basket in her arms ready to hold the ones he would help pick for her.

The man felt his face get warm, he couldn’t help think how well the name fitted her with how pretty it was. 

“What’s your name?” she asks innocently, reaching out to pluck another apple to put in the basket. He stopped and fidgeted with his fingers, he hated talking to others, always feeling his voice was as ugly as his appearance was. “M-My names Th-Thane. Thane Crimson” his voice honeyed yet croaky also.

Betty blinked a moment, she wasn’t expecting him to sound like that. She couldn’t help find it cute, it almost made her think of a large bear dressed as a cowboy. “That’s a really lovely name.” she finally speaks out with a warm smile. 

Thane’s brows arched, he wasn’t expecting her to say that at all. When he spoke people would always feel uneasy or worse scared, “Well Thane I appreciate it very much that you’re helping me with this and I promise to make you the apple crumble.” placing a hand on her chest “Cross my heart.” she adds with a giggle.

He couldn’t help feel the sides of his lips twitch upward making an awkward grin, they spend thirty minutes looking for the best apples and having some small talk. Thane told her about his brothers Vincent the eldest always knew his mechanic work fixing any vehicle or farm equipment, if you get on his good side he’ll treat you well. Lorren the second born was always known to make music with his violin, despite the calming music he’s always full of energy and running around making sure the house is kept nice and tidy.

“You’re brothers sound amazing, I wish I could get a chance to meet them.” holding the basket up for Thane to place another apple in. He hums, “Say uh, if you don’t mind me asking. Why was Mr. Wimbledon so angry when he saw you here?”   placing the basket down.

He frowns looking down for a moment then back up “Because they think I’m the son of satan.” plucking another one off and placing it gently into the basket. “What?! Why on earth would they even say that?” horrified by his answer.

He looked away and raised his other hand up to show the missing fingers “They don’t take kindly to people that weren’t born with all their pieces, or the rumor that we put a curse on all the fruit  tree’s years ago.” Betty’s eyes widen “Curse? What kind of curse?” 

“When our momma died the trees in the orchards died a few days later, They said she was a witch that cursed them.” tears started forming in his eyes “But she’d never hurt no one, momma was always kind and warm.” whipping his eyes with his worn sleeve. 

Betty’s heart sank seeing him like this, she just wanted to wrap her arms around him and tell him it was going to be okay. So she did, lunging forward and wrapping her arms around his torso and pulling close to him. She could feel Thane jerk suddenly by the sudden touch.

 “That’s cruel and horrible of them to say that about you and your family. You’ll never hear anything horrible like that from me.” you spoke firmly. “I may not know you all that well at the moment but from what I can see I think you're a very sweet man.” 

Thane couldn’t help shiver again now, his eyes welling with tears as the trickle down his cheeks, she could hear him sniffling as he slowly rose his arms up, almost afraid to even hug her back. “It’s okay sweetie,” she coos softly rubbing his back.

In a matter of seconds he sobs hugging her tightly as he falls to his knees burying his head into the crook of her neck. This woman was so sweet, so compassionate almost...like momma. “Hey Thane, would you like to come to my place to pick up the apple crumble and bring your brothers? I would love getting to meet them.” rubbing his messy hair. 

Thane felt as if his heart was going to melt into a puddle hearing this, This woman just met him and now she wants to meet his brothers so quickly. He felt a pain in his chest suddenly, what if this was a joke just a cruel prank to make him have a false sense of compassion from this woman.

“If you want I could even bring it to your place if you could tell me where you lived.” her eyes drifting to his head. She couldn’t believe how such a big intimidating looking man could be so sensitive and touch starved. 

“Y-You’d do that?” he asks, pulling away from her, his eyes now red and puffy. Betty smirks and pulls out a little pack of tissues from her pocket, it was always good to have tissues in case of moments like this, pulling one out and giving it to Thane to wipe his eyes. “Of course.” 

His hand carefully takes the tissue and dries his eyes “Wh-why are ya bein so nice to me? Ya barely even know me.” looking at her like an innocent puppy would.

Betty arches a brow and shrugs “Cause why not?” she replies offering her hand to him “C’mon lets take these apples to my car and I can drive you back to your place if you would like.” 

Thane blushed, of course he did walk here through the woods to get some fresh air, he knew the lands of this town like the back of his hand “If you wouldn’t mind that.” bashfully scratching the back of his head then taking her hand. “It’s no trouble at all.” Betty replies, helping Thane pull himself up.

They take the baskets and dump them into large bags she brought with her, paying the farmer Than sat in the car waiting patiently though he was nervous as he could even feel the peoples eyes watching him. “Thank you very much, have a nice day.” Betty spoke about to walk back to her car. 

“Hey young lady.” Mrs. Wimbledon spoke out to her, she paused and turned to look back at the middle aged woman “That boy is nothing but trouble, you need to stay away from him or he’ll do god knows what to you.” she warned looking at Thane who was still in the car but now hunkered down trying to hide, not like it was helping him though due to his size.

Betty tilts her head “Oh? And why may I ask should I be worried about the man who just helped me?” innocently asking, The woman frowns “They’re sons of satan. Horrible bad things come from them rotten thieves if you don’t watch them. They’re responsible for the death of all the orchards years back with their devil magic and we all had to buy new trees to replace them.” She spoke bitterly.

“I may be part of the christian faith but I’m afraid I don’t believe in that sort of superstition. I think I’ll be just fine. Thank you so much for the apples and have a good day!” cheerfully walking off. The woman was dumbfounded that this girl didn’t even care of the evil those boys could do.

Getting in her car and turning on the ignition “Ready to go Thane?” she ask smiling over at him. He nods, keeping quiet, still keeping his head down. Betty drives off as the people stare at the vehicle leaving with a mix of worry and and wariness.

“That was fun,” keeping her hands on the steering wheel, Thane lifts his head up. He could help feel some relief was lifted off his shoulders to get out of there, all those people staring at him with hate and suspicion. “Where do you live at sweetie?” looking around for a moment then getting her eyes back on the road.

Thane guides her to the path of his home, it took roughly about half an hour until they finally make it to a large vast open field. “This is a really big space.” driving up she then sees a three story house that makes her eyes widen “That’s home.” he spoke sheepishly “Wowzers, that’s astounding.” blinking a few times. 

She then notices a man standing on the porch wearing mechanic clothes stained with blotches of oil and grease with his arms crossed and from the looks of it he was pissed. “Is that Vincent?” parking her car, “Yeah, he ain’t too happy that I wandered off again.” Thane spoke sheepishly. 

“Well I’ll help explain to him what happened okay?” unbuckling her seat belt, “R-Really you’d do that for me?” fidgeting with his fingers. She nods at him and exits out of the car with Thane. 

“You better have a damn good reason going off like that.” Vincent stomping off the porch up to Thane “Those people will not hesitate to hit you with rocks or even their damn cars if they could.” now taking notice on Betty “Who the hell is this?” looking back at Thane agitated. 

“You’re bother was helping me get apples from one of the orchards, I couldn’t reach the ones that were higher up so we made a deal that I would make him some apple crumble if he helped me get enough.” trying to keep herself confident and hope not to make Vincent any more mad.

“Wha-Are you serious with me right now Thane! How the hell do you know this woman’s gonna keep her word?!” he barks at him. “Because you guys are coming to my place to pick it up!” Betty spoke back with her voice raised. Thane looks at her surprised while Vincent scowls at her. “I am fully aware of what the people have said about you and your brothers and I can assure you I have no intention of being like that. Thane told me so many nice things about you Lorren.” looking back at her car “Thane was very kind to help me when he didn’t have to so I want to repay his kindness. If you don’t believe me you can even come to my place to watch me make it.” looking back at Vincent crossing her arms keeping firm to her word.

Vincent was quiet for a moment and looks at Thane “Alright, we’ll come over and watch you.” now becoming more calm “Okay, I’ll tell you the directions to my place. And if you guys have trouble with them here’s my number.” pulling a little note pad out of her purse and writing her phone number down to give them “There, Now if you’ll excuse me boys I have to prepare for a delicious apple crumble for my new dear friend here.” smiling up at Thane. “See you all later.” Betty adds and walks off giving them a little wave.

As she drove off Vincent stood next to Thane “She’s different from them, ain’t she.” putting his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, she was really kind to me and even gave me a hug.” Thane spoke bashfully looking down. Vincent sighs and goes up to the house “Well we better go inside and make ourselves look presentable for the lady.” Thane follows with a smile on his face. 

Crimson brothers had to get ready to meet his kind innocent woman that was so kindly making them something sweet and they were looking forward to getting to know Betty. 

[ncityislove]

The Jury is Out Ch. 2

➳Pairing: Renjun x Reader x Jeno (ft a few other Dreamies)

➳Genre: fluff/ angst

➳Word Count: 7K

➳ Warnings: under age drinking, mentions of infidelity

Previous Chapter  Third Chapter Next Chapter

You were used to working with the guy you despise most in the world on a day to day basis but one day all that changes when you have to work together after school for two weeks. Was it crazy to want to be friends with your enemy? Was it possible to be something...more?

A/N: Sorry about the slow uploads. I’m trying to work on my motivation to write rn :/ Hopefully the next part will be up soon!

***STORY HAS BEEN RE-EDITED

The halls are cramped and chilly as you squeeze in between groups of people obnoxiously standing in the center of the walkway. Today is finally Friday, meaning you could rest at home for the next two days. Heaven knows you needed it given how shitty your week has been. You were incredibly exhausted and you couldn't figure out why, considering you overslept literally every morning. Not to mention, you were still pissed at Renjun for leaving you to work on the booth by yourself. To be frank, you just weren't in the mood today.

You trudge through the open door of your first period and sit in your seat, readjusting your headband. Renjun makes an appearance shortly afterwards, his oversized backpack brushing the doorframe—seriously, what a nerd—and you promptly look down at your phone, not wanting to give him any attention. If he thought you were going to let this one go he was dead wrong.

Class starts and Mrs. Brookes walks in with an arm full of papers. "Good morning, everyone! It's quiz time!!"

You jolt awake at that, the quiz seeming to have completely slipped your mind. You even forgot to study last night, falling asleep before you got the chance to start on the rest of your homework. You rub your tired eyes, trying to remember all the materials you learned in the past week but it was so hard to function at such an early hour.

You groan, laying your head down on the table just as Renjun approaches and places a scantron on the top of your head. You sit up in your chair, the paper sliding off onto the black surface in front of you, to find Renjun studying you with an odd look on his face. Maybe he was still feeling queasy from the lab yesterday?

"Were you...did you start on the booth yesterday?"

You roll your eyes to sky, picking up your pencil to fill out your name. Renjun stands there for a moment until he realizes he won’t be getting an answer and moves on to the next table. You feel a small sense of victory. Could that have been remorse that you'd seen on his face? You shake your head, immediately dismissing the thought. Impossible.

Ha, as if he was capable of such an emotion!

Well, whatever it was, it was obvious he wasn't proud of his actions yesterday. He looked like a dog with his tail tucked between his legs, his head hanging low as he passed out papers to the students. He really needed to get that temper of his in check.

Mrs. Brookes passes out the quizzes shortly after Renjun finishes passing out scantrons and starts a timer. You quickly get to work, thoroughly mulling over the questions and answers. Not even five minutes into testing, Renjun stands up to turn in his quiz. Of course, he would be the first one to finish. He always was. You fight the urge to roll your eyes and finish up the last two questions, turning in your paper next.

Sitting back down in your chair, you put your earbuds in, searching for a song to pass the time when you remember your father's orders for you and Sadie to spend more time together. Sadie had been driving you everywhere since she returned, even when it was within walking distance, she insisted.

You [9:32 AM]: are you picking me up today?

You switch back to your music playlist, settling on the first song you saw when your phone buzzed in your hand.

Sadie [9:33 AM]: yep! we're having a sisters night btw and before you ask no you can't get out of it ;)

Your head falls into your hands as you scream internally. Sadie was driving you bonkers from all this 'sister bonding' she's been forcing you into.

-

Haven’s there again at lunch, this time though, there was a long line of people waiting to sign up for the blood drive. You pause, wondering where everyone was when you started sign-ups.

Haven's hair bobs back and forth in her loose top-knot as she nods in conversation with some girl having trouble understanding the process of the blood drive.

"They don't put you to sleep when they take the blood?" the girl asks with a panicked expression.

"No, that's not how blood drives work..."Haven replies, her lips in a thin line.

"If I ask them to, do you think they will?"

Haven rolls her eyes so far back you could only see the whites of her eyeballs. "No. Are you gonna sign-up or not?"

The poor girl looks like she was gonna piss her pants right then and there. She shakes her head no and briskly walks away.

"Next!" Haven shouts.

You sit down in the chair next to Haven and she glances at you, giving you a once-over.

"Cute bracelet. Where'd you get it?"

"Thanks, it was a gift from my sister. I'm not sure where she got it," you reply, fumbling with the charms.

Sadie had bought you the bracelet two Christmases ago and you'd haven’t taken it off since. Not for any reason, in particular, you just thought it looked nice with how plain your uniform was.

After the last person scurries off to their friends, you and Haven start digging in to your lunches.

"So..., "Haven begins. "are you and Renjun together?"

It takes a few seconds for her question to register in your brain and then you’re nearly choke on your PB&J sandwich, dramatically coughing for dear life.

"Together? As in dating??" 

You couldn't even hide how horrified you were by the question. The audacity of her to ask such a heinous question was unsettling. Didn't everyone know you hated each other? Even the teachers knew about your rivalry.

"Not even if he was the last person on Earth," you defend. "Besides, Renjun hates my guts."

"I see," she nods. "But how do you feel about him?"

You stop mid-chew. "Huh?"

"The way you guys talk to each other, I just assumed there was some sort of history there I didn't know about. I mean, he's cute, yeah sure, anyone with eyes can see that but he's also really smart and he's super sweet when he wants to be."

Sweet my ass—

"Hey!" Renjun calls out as he approaches from the side.

At this rate, he was going to make a daily habit of stopping by your table at lunch.

Haven gives you a suspicious glare before she busies herself by cutting up her fruits with the dull ends of her plastic fork.

"Hey," he repeats once he was closer to the table. "Are we still meeting after school?"

You almost said yes before you remembered you were still mad at him for ditching you yesterday. You give him a stormy look and pull out your phone, making a point that you were ignoring him.

"I know you're giving me the cold shoulder and what not—and I get it. I really do. But could you just meet me on the field so we can get this done? That's all I ask."  

And with that, he walks away.

"Hey, Renjun!" Haven yells after him. He glances over his shoulder but keeps walking.

That was weird.

"What exactly happened between you two?" you ask.

Haven chews on her bottom lip before shaking her head. "It's complicated."

Complicated. What did that even mean? Aren't all breakups complicated? Why did you care anyway, it's not like it's any of your business.

Right.

It wasn't any of your business so why did you ask that? It was odd enough that you were curious about Renjun's past relationships but now it was going to seem like you were actually interested in him. And let’s face it, hell would freeze over before that would ever happen.

-

After the final bell rings, you make your way to the track field. You debated on whether or not you should even show up but you weren't as douche-ey as Renjun.

Your feet pad down the concrete stairs, trotting across the damp grass. You spot the familiar head of dark hair in the center of the field as you near the booth. Renjun had already begun without you, taping the flags on each side of the booth. His uniform jacket was folded neatly on top of his bag on the ground and you drop yours down next to his. Renjun is too immersed in getting the tape to hold the flags to notice your arrival. Despite the cold, there’s a light sheen of sweat that coats his honey bronze skin, his fringe starting to stick to his forehead.

You clear your throat loudly and Renjun peeks over his shoulder.

"Oh, you came," Renjun let out a sigh of relief.

"Yeah, well, I'm not you so..." you trail off.

"Right," his voice is low. "Look, about yesterday...I shouldn't have just left you like that." 

He pauses to wipe the sweat at his temples with the back of his hand. "I overreacted and I'm sorry. Things have been...off lately."

You’re silent for a moment, not sure of what to say. It wasn't like Renjun to show any real emotion towards you.

You approach him, adjusting the flag properly so the tape wouldn't peel off from the weight.

"You've been apologizing a lot lately."

The corners of Renjun's lips curve upwards. "I guess I have."

It was silent as he begins to nail a wooden board across the table legs.

You watch him work as you mindlessly painted a plank of wood for the top of the booth. His brow is creased as he carefully handles the hammer and nail.

"How'd you do on the quiz?" he asks, disturbing the stillness in the air.

"It was pretty easy," you muse. "I probably got an A."

"You always get an A, what do you mean 'probably'?" he chuckles.

A smile creeps on your face. "I'm just being modest here—of course I got an A!"

"When are you ever modest?" Renjun retorts, a teasing smile playing on his lips. And you realize for the first time, it's a smile that was meant in a friendly way.

"I'm more modest than you could ever be."

Renjun moves on to the next board, picking up a new nail. "Maybe. That's the only thing you do better than me, though."

You scoff. You knew it was meant to be a joke but you couldn't help but feel irritated by how true it was.

"I will admit that you are better than me at a lot of things. If modesty is all I have on you, I'll take what I can get."

Renjun chuckles. "I was joking! There's tons of stuff you can do better than I ever could."

"Oh yeah? Like what?" you ask.

"If you're fishing for compliments, I'm not falling for that," he shakes his head with a laugh.

"I'm not asking for compliments, I'm serious. You're always one step in front of me, Renjun. No matter how you look at it, you're perfect."

Renjun stops hammering to look at you. "Was that supposed to be a joke? I don't know if you've noticed, but the reason why I have to work so hard to keep my spot at the top is you. You keep me on track because I know if I slack off for even a sliver of a moment, you'll take it away from me. I'm not perfect."

You stare at him for a beat, an odd feeling stirring in your chest.

"No one's better than anyone, alright? We're equals," he finishes, re-focusing on his task again.

His voice is cool and smooth like marble and for the first time you hear a gentle tone in his words. The gleam in his eye showed you a more sincere side of himself you never knew existed and it made your heart pick-up.

"Right, of course," you say, forcing a laugh.

The two of you continue to have small talk as you work. Him, always asking the questions and you, trying to answer them as politely as possible. After a while, the atmosphere begins to feel less forced and you’re able to talk to him freely without feeling the painful drag of awkwardness.

When the sun begins to paint the sky red, you both decide that was enough work for the day. You agree to meet on Monday again after school.

You walk together to the parking lot mostly in silence. When Renjun offers to walk you to your sister's car you decline immediately, not wanting Sadie anywhere near him. You wave to him as you got into the passenger's side of Sadie's Audi.

"See 'ya later!" he shouts before he hops into a black truck across the lot.

"Who's that? He's cute," Sadie says, craning her neck to watch him get into the car.

You buckle your seatbelt. "Not really. That's just my lab partner from anatomy."

"Are you kidding me? If I was your age I'd be all over that. And single of course."

"I don't know, I guess he is. I haven't really thought about him that way before."

Sadie drives out of the parking lot, looking at you as if you had two heads. "You guess? We really need to sort out your taste in men."

You hum, waving her comment off and thankfully she doesn't pester you about it for the rest of the way home.

"Let's make cookies!" Sadie suggests, tossing her keys in the dish on the table.

You scowl. "You know I can't cook."

"I'll give you the easy stuff to do," she says, shuffling into the kitchen.

You press your lips together, following her to your doom. Baking cookies wasn't something you ever wanted to do in your lifetime but here you were in the kitchen with Sadie doing something you didn't want to do, yet again.

"I'll make the batter and then you can mix it with this spoon here, see?" she holds up a large wooden spoon.

You nod wordlessly, slumping over the wooden counter while she washes her hands.

You watch Sadie gather all the ingredients from around the kitchen and set them out around a ginormous bowl from the cupboard you didn't know existed until now.

"Since mom and dad aren't home yet, I can finally tell you about Jodie!" Sadie claps her hands excitedly.

You mime gagging behind her back before slumping back over the counter.

"Oh god, where do I even begin," she pauses in deep thought. "Oh! We met at orientation, as you know. But what I didn't tell you is how he asked me out."

"And how'd he do that?" you try to hide the boredom in your voice.

"He brought a big basket of those muffins I like from the dining hall—well technically he stole them but anyways—he brought them to my dorm and asked me to dinner at this underground restaurant and, ugh, it was so romantic! It had all these twinkly lights and a live band!"

"That does sound nice. Except for the stealing part. I don't find illegal stuff romantic."

"Of course you wouldn't, but anyway, we've been together ever since. We made two years last month," Sadie smiled at her bowl of mush ingredients.

"Wow, I hadn't even realized it's been that long," you reply, toying with the wooden spoon.

"Yeah," she sighs. "Mom and dad met him a couple of days before our anniversary but they don't know everything that happened so when I tell you this, you have to promise me you won't say anything, okay?"

You perk up at the seriousness of her tone. "Yeah, of course."

Sadie looks hesitant before she speaks. "After about a year into our relationship, Jodie...he cheated on me with some girl in his psych class."

"He what??!" you jump up, nearly knocking over the ingredients Sadie had set up so neatly.

Who in their right mind would ever cheat on someone as amazing as Sadie? Everyone loved Sadie. And you meant everyone. If someone didn't like her it was because they were jealous and even then they secretly liked her! It just didn't make sense. No matter which you put it, you can’t think of a single reason why he would think that was a good idea or even be tempted to cheat with another woman. He was more foolish than you ever anticipated.

"And what happened? You're still with him?"

Sadie looks ashamed as she avoids your gaze. "We broke up for about a month after it happened. But yes, we're still together."

You grab her arm, making her look at you. "Why would you get back together with someone who cheated on you with some random girl?"

"You wouldn't understand, __, you're still young. You've never even had a boyfriend before. It's not that simple."

You frown, confused and albeit a little angry. Isn't it common sense to break up after your partner had an affair? Sadie was everyone's dream girl—she was sweet, loving, beautiful, knew how to cook and was too forgiving for her own good. The fact that she decided to stay with some loser who couldn't see that was infuriating. You didn't like Jodie before but now you actually had a valid reason.

"Please don't be mad, __," Sadie pleads as if reading your mind. "Love is...complicated."

Complicated. There's that word again.

Sadie tucked her hair behind her ears, searching for the right words. "Just because he hurt me, doesn't mean I don't love him anymore. I can't just turn off my feelings for him whenever I want. Those feelings don't go away so easily and you'll see that for yourself one day,"

"I'd rather not," you huff, crossing your arms.

Sadie drags your body to the bowl now that she was done measuring the needed materials.

"Not all relationships turn out like mine. Maybe you'll have better luck than me," she gives you a small smile.

You stir the mixture clumsily, as you give her an pointed look. "Yeah right, have you met me?"

"Oh hush," she slaps your arm. "Enough about me. What about this lab partner of yours?"

You grimace. "I promise you nothing's going on there. His friend Jeno, however, is much more interesting."

Sadie holds the bowl steady for you as your stirring grows sloppier. "Oh, all the Jenos I've met are always crazy hot."

"His looks don't disappoint, believe me. He's got the whole school wrapped around his finger. He's really smart too."

"I knew he'd be smart if you were interested in him. Does he play a sport?"

"Soccer."

"That's even hotter," Sadie replies, taking the bowl from you and forming a small ball with the dough. "Can you grab that big pan and put a baking sheet over it for me?"

You follow her instructions and she thanks you, placing a ball on the pan.

"What's crazy is, he's barely even spoken to me prior to this week but he suddenly asked me to go to his party tonight."

"Well, you're going, right?" she pauses to turn on the oven.

"Of course not," you answer in an incredulous tone.

"Why not?!" Sadie exclaims. "You have to go!"

"I don't do parties and I don't do boys, you know that," you resume back to your position over the counter.

"Right, those lame rules you made when you were like ten. Don't you think they're a little ridiculous? You can still have a life and be successful, you know."

You pursed your lips. "I like my rules."

"You like them because they keep you in your comfort zone. You gotta go, honey. You're gonna regret it if you don't. And you don't have to date Jeno. Just try to get to know him—ignore him all night for all I care—just go and have some fun for once!"

"I don't think—"

"Nope! You don't have a choice, you're going!" she says cutting you off.

"Put the cookies in the oven while I get everything ready!" Sadie shouts as she runs off to her old room in haste.

You throw your head back, throwing a silent tantrum before putting the cookies in the oven.

When you meet Sadie in her room, her entire contents of her suitcase were thrown out onto the floor with a giant case of makeup open by the mirror. You immediately walked back out yelling out a quick and stern 'no!'

"Wait! Come on, it'll be fun!" she runs after you, her arms spilling over with dresses you'd rather die than to put on your body.

Sadie manages to coax you out of your room and back into hers but only after you made her promise to not do anything too crazy.

You change out of your uniform and into a pair of jeans and one of Sadie's satin blouses. You already flat-out refused to wear her dress so when you rejected the idea of wearing any type of heels, she settled for her black booties. You’re lucky you wear the same size in everything otherwise you’d end up showing up in that old church dress your mom bought you four years ago before you all stopped going. There was never a need to get nice-looking clothes because you never went anywhere. 

You find yourself sitting on the floor in between your sister's legs as she curls your hair. You have major difficulty remaining still for long periods of time and Sadie burned you a few times because of it. When she’s content with your hair she attempts to do your makeup but your reject anything more than mascara and lipgloss, knowing what kind of harmful chemicals it was all made of.

You allow her to do your eyebrows solely because of the sad look in her eye when you said you didn't want to. It hurt like hell and you think you might regretted it a little but the outcome wasn't too shabby, although you'd never admit that to Sadie.

Sadie brings you a plate full of cookies as you did your mascara, giving you pointers as she munches down on a sugar cookie.

Once the torture was over, you feel like you were an entirely different person. Not in a catfish, full face of makeup kind of way but in a this girl never wears anything outside of her school uniform and pajamas kind of way. The person in the mirror looks so foreign to you and you can’t decide if it was a good or bad change but you didn't have too much time to dwell on it before Sadie was shoving you out the door.

After giving her the address from Jeno's Snapchat story, Sadie sends you a warm smile. Her nose crinkles a bit and she keeps staring at you with this motherly look in her eye.

"You look pretty. You always look pretty but you look especially pretty right now."

You're cheeks feel a tad warm as you give her an uncomfortable smile, thanking her.

Once you arrive at the address, Sadie grabs your hand and squeezes it. "Text me when you're ready for me to pick you up. Have fun okay? But be careful."

"Okay," you reply before exiting the car.

You wave to Sadie as she drives away, wishing you could call her back and beg her to take you home but it was too late for that. You came all the way here and now you had to man up and do this. But the overwhelming amount of second thoughts leave you frightened. You can’t help but wonder if Jeno's invitation to you was a joke or some sort of dare he was forced into. Even Renjun knew you didn't belong here.

You take a deep breath and walk towards the front door, letting yourself in. The music hits you like a wave, stunning you for a moment. You hadn't heard it outside the house so the overwhelming sound of the bass resonating through your bones made your heart pick up even faster than before.

The living room was packed with familiar-looking people, most of them leaned against the large walls of the room, a cup full of an unidentifiable liquid in their hands, others dancing wildly in the center of the room.

You decide to search for Jeno, not knowing what else to do. You squeeze through several clusters of people but the dimness of the room made it nearly impossible to see anyone clearly that wasn't less than five feet away, so you give up for the time being, taking an empty spot on the wall near the couch.

You unlock the screen of your phone, just about to text Sadie to come and get you when Haven strides up to you with a golden-haired boy you recognized as Jisung—one of Renjun's friends.

"What are you doing here?" she yells over the music.

You frown at her question. "You know why I'm here; you were there when Jeno invited me."

"You know Jeno?" Jisung asked, his eyes scanning you in curiosity. "I haven't seen you around before—are you new?"

Your fingernails dig into the skin of your palm. If you had a nickel for every time a student asked you that. You would think at least some people would have known you from the vast amounts of extra-curricular activities and sports you played but of course, you were just as invisible to them as you were to everyone else.

"I've been going to this school longer than you have, freshie," you fight the urge to roll your eyes at the kid.

"What's with the way you're dressed? Don't you own anything other than a lame shirt and some jeans?" Haven sneers, giving you a look of pure disgust.

You look down at your outfit, suddenly self-conscious. Was it too conservative for a party like this? Haven's mini skirt and flashy crop top made your outfit look dull in comparison. Maybe you should’ve worn one of Sadie’s dresses after all.

And here you thought bumping into Haven was going to save you from the embarrassment of hanging around the party like some loner without friends. before now, you never really cared to make friends throughout school, preferring to be alone. You had your parents and although they were annoying at times, they were more than enough company for you. You try not to allow her words to affect you but they do. Your throat tightens with sudden urge to cry but you fight it.

"Just because I'm not dressed like a whore doesn't mean it's not cute," you gruff, brushing past her.

You push through the crowd of people towards the front door only to bump into a hard chest that belonged to none other than Lee Jeno.

"Oof! I'm sorry—oh! __, you came," Jeno smiles pleasantly. "Come with me," he grabs your elbow, not waiting for a response as he leads you back to the center of the room to the twin couches. 

He signals his friends to make a space for you, ushering you to sit down next to him. You’re surprised to see Renjun sitting on the other side of you, immersed in what seemed like an intense level of Tetris.

"Hey, Renjun," you greet him.

Renjun glances up from his phone, his eyes going wide, obviously surprised that you showed up.

"Umm...Renjun?" you sit back, feeling uncomfortable after a while of him not saying anything.

"Hello? Earth to Renjun?" you snap your fingers in front of his face, finally sparking something in him as he blinks once then twice.

"S-sorry, hi," he says awkwardly then resumes playing his game.

You scowl, expecting a better response. Why was he acting so strange? Just a few hours ago, he insisted on walking you to Sadie's car but now he won't say more than two words to you? Did he not want his friends to know you were getting along?

You’re silent as Jeno jokes along with his friends, a crowd gathering around the popular boy.  His eyes squint into laughter whenever one of his friends says something stupid. Thankfully, he was turned in the opposite direction so you could admire the side-view of his chiseled face. You’re glad to have found Jeno when you did, or else you wouldn't have been sitting next to him now, feeling like you a part of something for once.

"Why do you look like that?" Renjun speaks and your cheeks turn rosy, hoping he didn't notice you staring at his best friend.

You attempt to look nonchalant as you answer. "Look like what?"

"I don't know. You look...weird," he says, his eyes staring straight into yours, making you feel cold.

You drew back from him, your heart feeling heavy at his statement. Did you really look so bad that two people had to tell you that to your face?

Apparently, Jeno had heard the conversation as he wraps his arm around your shoulder. "I think you look pretty," he pokes a finger in your cheek and you almost die on the spot.

You shake your head, embarrassed, and Jeno only chuckles, turning back to his friends but leaving his arm around you.

You don't say anything after that, listening to the notes of a song you’ve never heard before in favor of the conversation being held next to you. They were talking about sports, something--unless it was volleyball--that you didn't have much interest in. After a few songs, you get bored, looking to Renjun, who was still on the same level of Tetris. Feeling your gaze on him, you lock eyes for a brief moment then he looks away again.

Concerned, you nudge his elbow, "Are you okay?"

Renjun doesn't look back up at you. "I'm fine."

Obviously, he wasn't but you drop it, not wanting him to snap at you again like the other day.

Jeno tightens his arm around your neck, grabbing your attention. "You wanna dance?"

"Oh, god no," you answer quickly. "I don't dance."

Jeno tilts his head at you. "Hmm..."

You blink, waiting for him to continue.

He stands up abruptly, your eyes following him. "Come with me," he holds a hand out for you to take.

You remember your sister's warning and decide that doesn't sound like a safe thing to do. "I want to stay here."

Jeno pouts, sensing the reason behind your hesitancy. He grabs your wrist, pulling you up with strength you didn't know he had.

"I promise, I won't try anything weird," he smiles that Jeno smile at you and how could you resist?

You let him drag you away from the party, your eyes alert for anything if he tried something funny. You never fought anyone before but you decide that if it came down to it, you were prepared to, even if it was your precious Jeno.

You pass through the kitchen and dining area, where there’s a glass sliding door leading to a patio. He opens it, stepping through first and letting go of you as he held the door open for you. It was a wooden patio with a large grill and fancy table with a yard that has more than enough space for the entire party attendees to run around in. The quietness surrounds your ears as you venture out further onto the patio, noticing a pool at the end of the yard. It was the kind of backyard that everyone dreamed of as a kid.

Jeno motions with his head to follow him and you trail behind him to the lounge chairs by the pool.

"Is this more comfortable for you?" he asks crossing his legs as he lays back in his chair.

You smile, abashedly. "Yes."

Your eyes follow a group of leaves swirling around each other in the pool as you ask Jeno a question that had been on your mind since Wednesday.

"Why did you invite me to your party?" your heart pounds in your ears, remorse fueling your body at the question immediately. You wouldn't know what you'd do if he told you it was a joke. Or worse, if he suddenly confessed to you.

Jeno purses his lips, drinking from his cup, probably full of luke-warm beer. "Because I think you're hilarious. Plus you're super pretty. I always wanted to get closer to you so I thought inviting you to my party would be a good place to start."

You let out a breath, neither relieved or disappointed he didn't ask you out. But he did admit he was interested in you in a way, didn't he? You decide to ask Sadie when you get home.

"So, how's that booth coming along?"

You snort, remembering the project Renjun sucked you into doing with him. "It's nearly half-way done but it would be closer to being finished if I didn't have to start on my own."

"Yeah I heard about that," he giggles. "Go easy on him, okay? He's under a lot of stress right now."

Your eyes almost dart of their sockets. "That boy gets everything he wants. There's no way in hell he could have anything more than the occasional pimple to stress over."

Jeno snickers again. "You always crack me up," with a shake of his head he continues. "Renjun's father is really hard on him when it comes to school and he's also really disappointed in him for not being on the soccer team. The best just isn't enough for the guy, I guess."

You sigh, trying to wrap your head around the concept of Renjun having real issues. Of course, every person had their own problems it's just that you never actually thought of him as a person. He was always just an obstacle blocking you from the future you've always wanted.

"I didn't know that," you say after a while.

"No one does. He doesn't like telling people," he stops to take a gulp of beer. "Does that mean you'll be nicer to Renjun?"

"Ha!" you scoff, taking his cup and having a sip. You weren't really sure what made you do that but it was already too late, the warm beverage already making its way down your throat. It wasn't as bad as you thought it would be but it still wasn't a flavor that you particularly liked. You shrug, taking a bigger gulp of it.

"Nine times out of ten he's the one who starts it. He brings it on himself," you laugh.

Jeno's laughter chimes with yours and you enjoy each other's company for a little while longer, just staring at the moon hanging in the raven sky.

"I don't get how you can even stand being friends with him. You pick on each other all day."

Jeno sighs, kicking his feet in the air. "That's what friends do, I guess. Maybe that's just guys, though. I mean, it all comes from a good place but when it really comes down to it, we're always there for each other."

"That's nice," you say, suddenly feeling guilty for what you said about Jeno. "I wouldn't know. I don't really have friends."

Jeno raises his eyebrows at you. "Really? I thought you had a ton of friends in all those clubs your in."

"Nah, I never really connected with those people."

"Well, I'll be your friend," Jeno cheeses at you and you gush, an unmistakable blush warming your cheeks.

You nod, as you struggle to drink the last of the contents of the beer with an unwavering smile.

A stiff breeze blows by, the leaves rustling in the trees above your heads. You tuck your face into your jacket to brace yourself from the cold.

"I already broke two rules in the span of one hour," you breath, not caring your words formed aloud.

Jeno glances at you curiously, "Hmm?"

You smile to yourself. "Nothing. It’s just some stupid rules I made up when I was like ten."

"Is dancing included in those rules?"

"No, actually."

Jeno stands up with a grunt. "Would you reconsider my offer from earlier?" he asks, his hand held out to you like before.

You weren't sure if it was the now empty cup of beer or maybe you felt a change in you at that moment that you never felt before but you found yourself taking his hand and being led away to the dance floor.

The music was different than what you were used to, the beat a little too fast-paced for you but you followed what everyone else was doing around you, throwing your hands above your head and jumping until you were out of breath. Jeno guides your body closer to him until you were pressed against one another, his arm secured tightly around your waist. You throw your head back in laughter, never having thought the night would've turned out like this. Jeno’s fiery lauch chimes in with yours, his eyes squinting into slits as he twirls you around the living room. You’ve never felt so free. Your mind was always weighted by thoughts of homework and exams. Your life revolved around school and you never seen a problem with it. So many years spent cooped at home when you could’ve been experiencing this. A few more cups and you don't even have a second thought about dancing with Jeno, the two of you goofing around the living room and bouncing around wildly. You were too drunk to notice the entire room hooting and cheering you on and you were too drunk to notice Renjun's eyes glued to the two of you the entire night.

--

You toss your bag on the floor of the car, then plop down in the seat, Sadie already revving up the engine next to you.

She sends you an odd look once you’ve settled in. "No headband and ponytail today?"

Your hands smooth over the top of your hair instinctively. "No. I think I like my hair better down."

Sadie reaches over, pinching your cheek. "I think you look good either way."

You rub the spot Sadie grabbed, grumbling as you always did.

"One party and my little sissy's all grown up!" Sadie cries, her lips in a pout.

You face-palm yourself. "Nothing's changed. I just styled my hair little differently today, Sadie."

The car comes to a stop at a red light. "Are you sure this has nothing to do with Jeno confessing to you at the party?"

Your face turns beet red as you sputter to defend yourself. "It wasn't a confession! And I didn't have time to find my headband because I slept through my alarm. Thanks for waking me up on time, by the way, Miss I-Wake-Up-At-Four A.M-everyday!"

Sadie giggles an apology, patting your leg.

You arrive to your first period, sitting in your unassigned-assigned seat and throwing your belongings down in the seat next to you, waiting as the rest of the students poured in. The bell sounds and Mrs. Brookes comes in, stressing about the class average of the quiz you took Friday.

Your graded papers were passed back and you were delighted to see an A+ scribbled in red at the top. You look up to find Renjun and show him your score. You aced the quiz just as said you would back at the field the other day. When your eyes land on his seat, however, you find it empty. Your eyes scan the classroom but still no Renjun. Did he not come in at all? It was strange for him to be tardy–it was normally you who was always late. Was he okay? He did look a bit off the last time you saw him...

You find yourself constantly checking the door throughout the class period, expecting him to barge in with some lame excuse or maybe he had a real one for being late for all you knew but he never did.

Second and third period go by and still no sign of Renjun. You were starting to worry about the booth. You didn't want to work on it by yourself but if he wasn't going to show, shouldn't he at least message you?

You suddenly remember Jeno's words to go easy on Renjun. It was things like this that made it impossible to do just that. This was important to you and you could've sworn it was important to him too! Next time you see him, you’ll kill him! Not even Jeno could stand in the way of what you were going to do to him.

When you make it to the field later that afternoon, there’s a lot more kids than last week but, of course, still no Renjun. You puff your cheeks with air, zipping up your coat and start to paint the last part of the booth.

Not even a moment later, a kid walks over to you with a scarf covering half of his face and a coat so big he could barely move his arms.

"Hey, you're __, right?"

You put down your paintbrush. "Yeah? Who are you?"

"I'm Chenle. Renjun asked me to help you out with the booth for him."

"Oh," you blink. You were relieved you didn't have to do this on your own but you were kind of uncomfortable working with a stranger at the same time.

"Why wasn't he at school today, anyway?"

You could tell he was smiling by the rise in his cheeks. "He told me to tell you that he was sick today but I don't see a reason to lie to a stranger. He actually came late after third period."

You let a curse slip through your lips but hold in your rage, picking up the paintbrush again. There was no way he could be serious. He only missed three classes, which happened to be the only ones he shared with you. 

"So, why wasn't he at lunch?"

He shrugs. "I don't know either. I just assumed he was with Jeno," 

You let out a long sigh.

Jeno wasn't at lunch either? You hadn't even noticed; you were so busy looking for Renjun. Your eyebrows furrow, giving Chenle something easy to do while you finish painting. You’re angry more than anything. You blew up his phone all day, asking where he was and if he was okay and yet, not a single response but he was at school the whole time. Why would he do that? Was he avoiding you for some reason? You didn't exactly know why but it pained you to think that. Was it stupid to think you were actually becoming friends?

Of course, you weren't friends. Renjun was just trying to make working together tolerable. How could you think that when he was being so cold to you at the party? You were still competing with each other at the end of the day. What good could possibly come out of befriending your enemy? He didn't text you back because he didn't have to. He sent someone to help you out in his place and that was all he owed you.

You knew you had no reason to be upset. Renjun didn't trick you into anything. He never said he wanted to be friends. It was your fault for mistaking his kindness for something bigger than that. But still, your eyes sting with unshed tears, your back turned away from Chenle. You weren't going to cry in front of Renjun's friend. You'd embarrassed yourself enough already.

[touchmycoat]

kinktober: day 28

day 28: writing on the body

this wasn’t meant to be sickfic, much less incomplete sickfic, but here we are. I’ll finish, clean, and post to AO3 later.

The rendezvous was on a summer island once more, the air so superheated this time that even Ace wanted to run around fully nude. He couldn’t feel excessively hot or anything, what with literally being fire and all—it was just the atmosphere the whole island brought about. It made him want to sweat and run for a dunk in a freshwater lake or wrestle someone for an icy shower.

Others didn’t have it so easy. Thatch’s hair had gone fully limp since day zeroth, whatever he used to keep up the ‘do melting and dripping off his forehead in nasty milky trails. Marco was okay, though little licks of blue fire keep getting spotted on his exposed skin, healing the sunburns he swore he didn’t get.

Sabo, when he got to the island, promptly took off all his clothes.

“Don’t,” he ordered, dunking his hands into the tub of water that had gone tepid in a matter of minutes after Ace prepared it, “touch me, ‘cause I won’t be held responsible for what I’ll do.”

“Aw, babe, I’ve missed you too,” Ace replied, tone as dry as Sabo’s hair was wet, now that he’s gone and sank his entire head into the water. “Aren’t Revolutionaries supposed to be hardier? You’re gonna let a little heat wave get you down?”

“I may also be running a little fever,” was Sabo’s admission. Ace scanned him in alarm, and now noticed an unnatural pink flush under his skin. “Everything is unpleasant and I’m dying.”

“I’m assuming that’s hyperbole.”

“Well I don’t keep sucking a doctor’s dick for no reason—where the fuck is Marco?”

Exploring, was the answer to that, and Sabo looked as impressed with it as Ace expected him to—which is to say, not at all.

“The one time I need him,” Sabo cursed in blatant mistruth. “That’ll teach me to ever trust again. There’s no way around it then—Ace, we have to go old school.”

“Unless you’ve brought your own eel’s blood, I can’t help you there,” Ace answered warily.

“I meant—”

“Nor do I have ginger root and all the necessary needles.”

With a sigh of frustration, Ace approached and hovered his hand about Sabo’s forehead, taking heed of Sabo’s warning against physical contact and hoping, sometime in the past five minutes, his fruit has given him some miraculous sensitivity to temperature in air convection. It hasn’t, but Sabo heaved a sigh of his own, and sullenly leaned his head into Ace’s hand.

“...Yikes.” It took a moment for Ace to translate the sensation on his hand to a normal human context. “You’re really burning.”

“If you truly love me,” Sabo muttered, peeling his head away with a grunt, “you’d go hunt an eel.”

“If I truly love you,” Ace corrected, pulling a den den mushi out of his bag, “I’d call Marco.”

One of Marco’s division members picked up.

“Hey Commander!” was Aoi’s cheery greeting. “Gimme a sec, our Commander’s left us a bit behind.”

“Just put me on the loudest volume,” Ace advised. As soon as she did, Ace yelled into the sparse canopy of trees in the broadcast, “hey Marco! Sabo’s dying!”

A beat. A burst of blue flames. A familiar face emerging with a frown.

“I’m assuming that’s hyperbole, yoi.”

“How would you know?” Sabo complained, not even looking at the den den mushi, so bleary-eyed he was and swaying on the spot. “You’re not here to anally probe me with a thermometer or anything.”

Giggling, and a cough. “Thanks, Aoi, I’ll take it from here.” Marco took his den den mushi and walked off down a more secluded path, waving his exploration team ahead. He wove between thick purple tree trunks until finally settling against one, staring into his side of the projection with overt concern. “Are you feverish? What symptoms are there yoi, and when did they start?”

This time, when Sabo opened his mouth to speak, a pallor suddenly washed across his face. He ended up tossing his head back in determined swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing as the tendons in his throat stood out in stark relief.

“Well,” Ace took over in dismay, “I think it’s safe to say he’s experiencing nausea. No coughing or sniffling so far. He just came in with a fever and didn’t want me to touch him.”

“Oh?” Marco took in the sight of Sabo standing completely nude, presumably assessing the cause. “Sabo, is it just general sensitivity, or does contact with your skin actually hurt?”

“Hurt is relative,” Sabo said, because even halfway to incoherent he needed to be difficult, “but I’m guessing you’re not telling me to compare it to being burned alive by actual fire.”

“Good guess yoi, I’m not telling you to do that,” was Marco’s flat reply. “Just compare being touched right now to, oh, your regular old knife wound.”

“Then sure, it hurts.”

“Okay any wounds, potential infections? Insect bites?”

“Not that I can see,” Ace reported, after an inspecting circle around Sabo. “Do you think he was poisoned then?”

“I mean, maybe?” Neither Sabo nor Ace had a response to Marco’s bewilderment. “But if he’s not saying anything about being poisoned yoi, we should just assume it’s a regular cold.”

Ace frowned. “How do you mean?”

“How do you mean, how do I mean?” Marco asked slowly.

“Well someone must’ve done this to him,” Ace argued logically. “How else could he contract an illness?”

“He could be immunocompromised for any number of reasons, and just—germs, viruses yoi. I don’t—” At Ace’s unyielding moue of incomprehension, Marco scratched frustratedly at the back of his head. “Honestly, if you’re suggesting what I think you’re suggesting, then that actually makes the possibility of Sabo being poisoned higher. How about it, Sabo? Any possibilities?”

“Yes.” Sabo blinked, and almost actually collapsed, knees buckling for just a tiny moment. Ace darted out to catch him, but refrained at the last moment from actual contact when Sabo managed to stay upright. “Okay I confess, I wasn’t listening to anything you guys were saying.”

“Lie down, for goodness sake,” Marco hissed, more out of worried sympathy than anger.

“It’ll hurt.”

“It’ll hurt a lot worse when you fall on your face, and I gotta carry you over to the bed,” Ace pointed out. He waved his arms about to herd Sabo in the direction of the mattress. “Just—lie flat on your back, and don’t move.”

“Breathing hurts too,” was Sabo’s whimpering complaint. But he did shy away from Ace’s hands and start moving toward the bed. His movements were stiff and obviously pained, and when one knee sunk into the mattress, Sabo made a sound of such utter distress that Marco flinched, all the way on the other end of the line.

“Okay yoi, I’m on my way back. But in the meantime Ace, grab the first aid kit I brought.” The tree trunks started to blur behind Marco as he jogged, then sprinted down the mountainside. “There should be a jar in the top right corner full of thick dark red paste.”

The first aid kit was a sizable buckle-up box that Marco brought onto every island landing. Every doctor and nurse practitioner in his division carried one.

“Looks like chili? Yup, got it.” The jar was larger than Ace’s fist and densely packed. He popped the top and sniffed it, expecting a punch of spice. What he got instead was an herbal sweetness, not overwhelming at all.

“Water down the paste a little bit, but leave it thick enough to paint with. There should be a pretty big brush in the kit as well yoi.”

When Ace found the brush and wielded it up in the air, Sabo’s eyes widened.

“You better not be planning on touching me with that thing.”

“At this point,” Ace commented with a side-eye look at Sabo’s awkward positioning, three limbs braced on the bed with the fourth still pending pain, “would it be worse?”

“Hopefully it’ll relieve the discomfort.” Marco made an unhappy noise, aimed at himself. “I gotta hang up—I’ll get there faster if I fly. But yes Ace, paint the liquid on any surface of the skin that’s in pain. It should be absorbed pretty quickly, and it’s fine if you paint over the same spots yoi. If it hurts worse, stop, and we’ll figure it out when I get back.”

“Got it.” Ace offered Marco a little smile meant to reassure. “We’ll see you soon then.”

Marco hung up with a rush of blue flames, and Sabo let out the most agonized groan yet, settling fully back onto the mattress. He’d tossed the pillow on the floor, and now held himself so rigidly against the soft sheets. Ace busied himself with the preparation of the water and paste in the basin he had given first to Sabo, but could barely take his eyes off of Sabo’s expression, eyes screwed shut and lips pressed into two pale, bloodless lines.

“Sabo,” Ace said lowly, in comfort, “the medicine’s ready. We’ll start with a small spot, okay? Where does it hurt worse?”

Sabo’s hands couldn’t even clench into fists—they were flexed tightly, like even touching himself was out of the question.

“Chest,” he bit out through teeth gritted so hard, Ace was genuinely keeping an eye out for blood spots along the gums. “Over my heart.”

The paste that Ace has mixed up looked like Thatch’s signature berry reduction, dripped with the consistency of that same dessert topping. With just one corner of the flat brush (the kind used for painting planks of wood and walls), Ace soothed a spot of it on Sabo’s left pectoral, watching in fascination as the color immediately soaked into the skin, drying until it sat like a tattoo.

“Can’t feel a thing,” came Sabo’s grudging admission. “You might need more.”

“Alright,” Ace agreed, soaking the entire width of the brush bristles. They were soft-ended and flexible, as if Marco prepared it for this very purpose in mind—minimizing pain in hypersensitive skin. “Here we go.”

Sabo’s breath came ragged and harsh when Ace stroked the brush more fully down his chest. The moment the paste started soaking into the skin however, a keening cry of relief left Sabo’s throat.

“That,” he demanded. “That. Just—everywhere.”

[capriswritingnartshenanigans]

It Calls Me

Horror. SFW. 3,700 words roughly.

Hi, I'm Rita Taylor. I... have something I really need to get off my chest. It's about when I went to my childhood home with my sister to get it ready for selling, and how the trip there went... horribly, horribly wrong.

[[MORE]]

“Sooo.”

“So?”

Eric sighs, kicking one of my carefully packed moving boxes with a Converse-clad foot. “You're really doing this, huh?” I tape another box’s flaps down, wipe the sweat off of my forehead, and stretch my back before answering him.

“Yep,” I say as I finish stretching, making my voice a little strained, “mom wants the house cleaned up and for me to check out any damages before we try to sell it. I'm…” I grimace, thinking back to some of the reasons why we left that hell house in the first place. Reasons Eric knows well; who better to tell your repeat nightmares and your dad’s odd accidental death to but your friendly neighborhood witch?

“I-I really don't think you should, Rita. From what you told me, I-” He shakes his head harshly, his lips pressing together and his brows furrowing worriedly. “I think somethin’ bad is there. Somethin’ that really liked you in a not-good-really-bad kinda way.” I force a smile, trying to brighten the mood.

“Hey, you're giving me a buncha your protective crystals and a couple of plants, right? They should help me long enough to clean the house up and get back here.” Ugh, God, I hope they do, anyway. I can tell he doesn't seem that reassured either.

“Yeah, but… they can only do so much. That house sounds like it needs a full-scale blessing,” he runs one of his hands through his dirty blonde hair before he continues, “and to be burned down to the ground.” I give a half-hearted laugh.

“Thanks, Eric. Really… really helpful.”

“Just… If you need anything or you need out, you can take my guest room. I'll pay the plane or bus ticket, whichever you take. You don't have to do this.” I sigh at his words, thinking on how much the house is worth, and on how I was a child when I had my nightmares.

“The house is worth too much to not try to fix it up, and besides, you said the nightmares aren’t necessarily malicious, right?” I dust my gloves off before heaving another cardboard box over to tape it down.

“Yeah, but… I don't think it's just a simple case of childhood night terrors, Rita.”

-----

I let out a pained groan as I bring in the final box to the house. There's not many, only four, but damned if they aren't heavy. I lean against the opposing wall from them, dabbing at the sweat rolling down my face with a bandana. I nearly let my fists fly when the door opens with a loud bang! Swiveling to look at it, my heart pounding in my chest, I relax when it's just my sister, Carina, carrying in her own last box as well. “You ever heard of just pushing a door open?” I snap at her.

“Well, sorry, but they're heavy!” She pants out as she struggles with the box. When she nears our pile, she drops it, then leans against the wall beside me.

“Yeah, true. Sorry. You just… spooked me.” Not hard to do when I'm so on edge, but I don't say that aloud.

“Nah, I shouldn't have slammed the door open.” She whines when she stretches, then takes a box knife out of her pocket and jabs it towards the boxes. “Let's crack a few of these open, then order some pizza or somethin’.” I grab my own as I nod to her, slide it open, and begin cutting open one of my boxes.

As I'm unpacking my clothes, I can't help but let my mind drift over how lucky I seem to be; Carina knows about the nightmares, and she spent plenty of nights while we lived here trying to comfort me. As the older sister, it's her job to do so, she always told me, and now’s no different; I told her I was coming back here, and she immediately dropped everything and got on her way here to help. We also decided to share mom and dad’s old bedroom, the master one that sits at the end of the hall on the second floor. At least I won't be alone here.

As I heft an armful of clothes in a box up the stairs, Carina calls out, “I call that old black dresser! The one with the seashell handles on it!”

I call back to her a grumbled “fine” as I make my way down the upstairs’ hallway. My stomach drops a little at the fine layers of dust covering everything and the darker end to the hall. It's just a hallway. And it's day time; nothing ever happened during the day time, I repeat to myself as I make my way down the hall, trying to fight my nerves.

Left foot. Right foot. Just one in front of the other.

Left foot. Right foot. Everything is fine.

I reach the door as I hear Carina clattering dishes onto the table. Hopefully… after dusting it. Hopefully. The thought cheers me up a little as I push my way into the room.

It's not too dimly lit as the blinds let in some beams of sunlight. Dusty, though. Really… dusty. I cough and hack as my movements towards the mahogany dresser, the one dad always used. It's one of the tall ones, like you see in most men’s bedrooms in the movies, only, y'know. Caked in dust.

I set the box down on the bed frame, thankfully clear of an old mattress or ratty bed sheets that would have likely swamped me in a cloud of… the gross stuff dust is made of. Also really glad I brought the box as a vessel of holding things, not just the clothes.

I start humming as I grab one of those really fluffy Swifters out of the top of the box and start goin’ ham on the dresser. I aggressively clean the outside of the dresser, trying to avoid big clumps of dust bunnies as I do so. As I'm finishing the exterior and starting to take out individual drawers for cleaning, I'm joined by Carina, who (thankfully) also thought to use a box to carry her clothes. She drops the box onto the bed frame, takes her own Swifter out, and then turns to me. “Dishes are all set up for when we clean the cabinets, Cap’n.”

“Did you dust the table off before setting the dishes on it?” I ask, raising one of my eyebrows. She gives me a droll look.

“Uh, duh. No, I just sat a bunch of clean dishes on a raggedy old table to keep the dust bunnies company.” She gives me a look like I'm a dumbass before attacking the long, black dresser she called earlier. I try not to grin as I return to my cleaning.

“I just asked because you tend to forget a step to things you're doing,” I say as I almost fancifully swipe at the drawer in my hand.

“And you look like a donkey’s arse, but I don't te-”

We stop into a dead stillness as a loud craaaaaakk interrupts her. My heart flutters in my chest as I snap my head up to look down the hallway, where the sound seemed to have came from. I see a door at the top of the stairs slowly opening, before stopping half-way.

I nearly drop the drawer in my hand when Carina gasps from beside me; she must have ran over while I wasn't paying attention. I swallow as I stare at the door, studying its chipped paint, but my throat is so dry. I see Carina move her arms from the corner of my eye, clearly trying to think of something to say. “It's probably just, uh, draft. From the doors not being opened in so long.” I look to her as she nods semi-confidently. “Just a… draft.”

“But…” I pull out the keys in my pocket, turning to the one meant for that door specifically, “mom told me she locked up all the doors when she visited last month. She was afraid all the air flow would help mold move in.” Carina’s normally coffee colored skin pales further, but I can tell she's trying to find some way to explain it.

“So she just forgot on-”

“Nuh-uh. She and Auntie Mali checked each door because it costs so damn much to kill mold. She was sure of it.” The words bring only a further dropping of my stomach, along with the feeling as though I'd swallowed something ice cold on an empty stomach.

“Then… then…” She throws her hands up, and stalks towards the door. “HEY, is anyone in here?” She calls out loudly, snapping me out of my frozen state. I sprint after her, feeling my blood buzz with adrenaline. Please, God, let nothing be there, let nothing be there.

As she rounds the door and slings it open, she shields her face and sneezes as more dust flies into her face, giving me time to fully catch up. I look inside… And find nothing there. Literally. Not a single piece of furniture, not a decoration, not a single thing. Just a coating of dust, a window covered by cracking blinds, and tatty, vintage wallpaper that's begun to peel down the wall. We both sigh in relief, and she claps me on the shoulder.

“Let's just get our clothes stuffed into our dressers, order food, take a shower, and then we'll deal with moving our mattress in afterwards. We've had enough excitement for one day,” she says tiredly, rubbing her forehead exasperatedly. I quickly agree, and things go well after I close the door. Food arrives on time, hot water works fine, the mattress doesn't give us much trouble and nor do the bed covers. All good.

Until after we went to sleep. That's when it really started.

-----

Carina and I had talked some before bed, played a round of Cards Against Humanity for a laugh, then finally settled in for the night at around 11 P.M. My dreams were fine, just filled with the memories of our old garden out back (which I need to see if it's still up and alive), and our old tire swing on the big oak that sits directly in the dead center of the yard. I slept soundly…

Until exactly 3 A.M.

I don't know why I wake up; from what I can tell in the first few moments of being awake, there's no sound in the house, not even the “settling” these old homes supposedly do. I reach over and turn my alarm clock towards myself, and groan loudly when I see it read “03:00 A.M.” in large, bold red text. I roll over and snuggle back down into the cooler side of my pillows, hoping I can drop off again.

“Riiiiiita…”

My eyes fly open as a blood-chilling voice faintly whispers in my ear. My heart pounds so loudly in my chest, so so loudly, I'm almost afraid it'll burst-

“Riiiiiita…”

Again, that voice whispers, almost like a low moan, but not from close by, it's somewhere else, maybe downstairs, Oh God. I shakily reach out and shake Carina as my throat threatens to close.

“Wha’… Wha’, Rita wha’ is-”

“Riiiiiiiiita… You came back.”

Carina’s hand stops mid-air from smacking at my hand and instead she swerves her head to look at the door, leaning up on her elbow. “You can hear it, too?” I whisper, so afraid it'll hear us that my voice is barely audible to even myself. But apparently she heard me, as her head turns to look over her shoulder and gives me a slow, shaky nod. Right then, I hear a soft rattling sound behind me.

Feeling fear course through my brain, my limbs, my entire body, it takes me a second to be able to roll over to look at my nightstand. The black onyx and tourmaline crystals Eric gave me are perched on it, and seem to be the cause of the rattling as I can see them faintly moving from the light of my phone charging. But I don't know what that means, and I don't get to ponder it before-

“Riiiiiiiita… Ooooh, Riiii-iiiiiita… You shouldn't have come back.”

The low moan has an almost demonic invocation on its second sentence, causing all the hairs on my body to stand up, causing cold chills to run down my spine. Oh, God, oh God, I shouldn't have come back, Sweet Mother Mary-

“Who the fuck are YOU?” Carina yells. It startles me, so much so I flinch and quickly strugglin into a propped up position, about to question why she wou-

Oh. Oh, apparently, it did not like that. No, not at all, because right after she said that it began to growl and roar. A sound like someone choking that steadily mixed with a tiger’s roar. The crystals shake and quake on my nightstand, becoming more violent as the roar grows louder, until I swear I hear one crack, right as-

Click. Before I can fully register the sound, I'm nearly blinded as Carina clicks on her bedside lamp. The roar immediately quiets, and then there's a far-off shuffling, and then no other noise. The crystals go quiet, the house goes quiet, all I can hear is our uneven breathing and my heart still pounding painfully in my chest.

“Holy Mother of God, what in the fuck was that?”

-----

Carina and I sat there, her lamp our only light, until the break of dawn at around 6 A.M. Not speaking, not moving, just listening. Waiting. Seeing if it'll come back.

It didn't.

When we finally moved, I finally saw that several of the beautiful crystals Eric had given me had damage done to them. “What…? Carina, look at this!” I shuffle to the side of my nightstand, jabbing my hands through the air towards the mess. She quickly hurries over, concern tightening her face.

“I… Can that even happen?” I look back to my once lovingly polished and cared for crystals to see the long, gouged cracks in them, especially the onyx. Only a couple were unaffected, but most looked as though they'd been chewed on by a blender.

“I'm… I'm gonna take some pictures, then we’ll call Eric. He's always up by now, he'll answer,” I say, my voice trembling. After taking the said pictures, throwing on some clothes and a bathroom break, we settle back into bed and dial up Eric. It barely gets to the second ring before his heavily freckled face pops into view, along with his bad case of bedhead making his blonde hair look like some kind of dirty mop on his head.

“Hey, Rita-beeta, hi Carina. What’s-” He looks at us for a moment, probably easily seeing the terror still on my face and our overall lack of sleep. “What happened? Did something happen?” I can only nod. The sight of my best friend nearly crushes me down into tears, knowing he's so far away to give me one of his big bear hugs that always make everything better. After a few moments of me just openly sobbing, Carina gently pulls me into her side and takes the phone, and all I can do is cling to her.

“It wasn't nightmares she was having. The damn thing is real. I fucking heard it myself.” Carina bites her lip, shaking her head violently before continuing. “I have pictures you need to see. Of what it did to your crystals.”

Eric stays silent as she scrolls through and sends them to him, and I watch his face as he opens them and looks at them. His face drops when he sees the damage. “I… I… I don't know what would cause so much… Holy shit.” He starts making spluttering noises, trying to think of something to say. “You-You have got to get out of there. This thing… This thing is-”

“One tough son of a bitch I take it?” Carina finishes. Eric nods immediately, looking completely horrified. “It couldn't come any closer from what I could tell. And when I turned on the light, it disappeared.”

“That doesn't- What’re you-” Eric looks absolutely enraged now. “What, you wanna keep her there with that thing?! Who the hell knows what'll do or if it was just playing with you!”

“I think your crystals and us not staying afraid in the dark kept it away,” she insists, “so tell us how to get more of the crystals. We'll try to clean up faster and get out of here as soon as possible.” Carina’s lips press into a hard line just as Eric’s does. They stare each other down through the phone, and…

Eric breaks first. He lets out a sigh, pinches the bridge of his nose, and then looks back into the camera. “Okay. Okay. Let me get a list of where you can find more, and put the holy sage plants in there with you.” He hangs up, and Carina tosses my phone down, and just rubs my arm with her hands.

“We'll try to get clean up done quicker, like a week. Hopefully… Hopefully the crystals will keep it away, and if not, we'll just stay at a motel during the night.” I nod to her, trying to keep my fear down. We'll buy the whole fucking crystal shop if we have to.

It only took us a few minutes to throw on more clothes; no point in getting too dressed up when we'll just be covered in grime later. I had to hold Carina’s hand the entire way down the hall; my legs barely wanted to carry me, and my body kept getting waves of chill bumps all over it. When we finally got down the stairs and into the front hallway, it didn't seem so bad. Nothing was out of place. Nothing was torn up, dust still covered the peeling wallpaper. Everything was fine and dandy.

Until I looked into the dining area attached to the kitchen. I could see something on the ground, something sticking up from the wooden paneling on the floor. As I rounded the corner and went through the kitchen doorway, I carefully scanned around the sliding door, Carina right at my heels.

There, leading in, I saw huge, muddy… handprints. When I got closer, It looked like something with four enormously sized hands walked in from the thoroughly muddy backyard and right around the dining table. I hazarded a peek at the sliding door lock and quickly saw that it was still double locked, with one muddy hand print on the glass. I could also see… fur trapped in the mud. White, crinkly fur, like from a dog.

Then, we followed the handprints through to the living room, anxiety gripping my chest the entire way. By the time I was at the door that opens to it, it felt like my childhood asthma had returned and that I was having a bad spell of it. I slowly, slowly open the door.

Creeeeak.

The old hinges let out noises of protest as I do so, but I keep going until I can look in.the muddy hand prints taper off on the once white carpeting, up to…

A large, picked-clean bone sitting on the carpet when the handprints end. On it is a tag with a string, tying it loosely to the bone. I step towards it, hands and arms beginning to shake as though I can't stop shivering.

Left foot. Right foot.

Just another few steps.

Left foot. Right foot.

I lean over, and carefully nudge the tag to flip it over with my shoe. I feel my breath leave my lungs in a long, loud whoosh.

NAME: THOMAS TAYLOR

D.O.B.: 02/12/73

D.O.D.: 04/23/09

C.O.D.: ACCIDENT

I scramble backwards, tripping over the couch as I do so, but not stopping until I hit the wall. Dad. The morgue tag we had to see when it came time to bury him in the little graveyard near here. After he died from his nail gun accidentally firing when he tried to fix its blockage and going through his heart while working late in his shed. Dad.

Dad’s toe tag on a bone picked clean.

I start to scream.

I didn't stop until my throat went so raw it started to bleed. All the while Carina dragged me out of the house, sobbing wildly herself. I dissolved into sobs when I couldn't scream anymore, while she called someone.

A few minutes later, I hear a police siren, then the sound of tires on gravel. I don't look up from my huddled position on the ground, holding my knees to my chest, not even when a man starts trying to speak to me, nor when a lady officer tried to soothe me.

I didn't really say anything, not even when we were at the police station, settled into one of the private rooms the reserve for clients needing alone time.

I didn't speak for a day or two after the police station visit, didn't even really pay attention to what they said or what Carina said. I just remember them escorting us to a motel nearby, offering to pay for our night. When I finally snapped out of it, I listened to Carina explain how the police said they'll try to track down who did this.

I don't think they'll find them. I don't think it's a person, just a thing. An evil thing that wants me. Wants me so bad that it tried to break me. Humans don't break and crack crystals meant to protect from bad things.

-----

Even now, I have trouble sleeping. Carina, Eric, and I moved in together after the house incident; none of us wanted to separate afterwards, in case… in case it ever comes back.

Mom told me something before she left to go back home, a week after everything, though. She said dad had the same nightmares I did, and that he told her he heard someone call him at night. She never believed him. She wishes she had now.

--------

I hope you enjoyed! This was my first ever horror story, and I'm very open to constructive criticism! I'm also okay with people reading this story on their podcast or YouTube channel, so long as I am fully credited and made aware!

[rainagainstmywindow]

All Shades of You (Chapter 1)

This is going to be the first chapter to a percabeth AU based on @ofswordsandpens ‘s  post (she was also nice enough to read it over and discuss ideas with me) This is my first chaptered fic so I hope you enjoy it! 

(please search #ramwfics or #ASoY for previous chapters)

                                                 *****************

Annabeth saw color for the first time when she was seven. It was before her brothers had come along. Her father had just barely met her stepmother and she’d invited them to her family’s beach house. Annabeth’d been so focused on building the perfect sandcastle that she’d completely neglected the ocean in front of her even though it was her first proper visit to the beach. It wasn’t until her father called her from the water that she looked up. 

It was unlike anything she’d ever seen. From her father’s bedtime stories she knew that the ocean was supposed to be blue or green. She never imagined it could be so many at once though. Deep green tinged with blues looked back at her. The colors were alive. She tried to mask her utter amazement but it must’ve shown on her face. Her father called to her once again, asking if anything was wrong. She forced herself to peel her eyes away and went back to her castle, never once mentioning it to anyone.

°°°°°°°°°

Percy had started to give up hope he’d ever see color. He’d spent so long in black and white that he’d started to believe they weren’t real, just something his mother had made up to get him to sleep during thunderstorms.

During one such storm, when Sally Jackson wasn’t there to lull him to sleep over the roar of lightning, he began to hope once again. It was too early for it to be light out but lightning lit the clouds every few seconds anyways. He’d buried his head in his pillow in an attempt to block it all out, but his heart continued  to beat too furiously for him to go back to sleep. Finally, he braved a peek through his curtains and threw them all the way back with a gasp. It wasn’t color, he was sure he’d know the difference right away when he finally saw it, but it was the brightest Percy had ever seen anything be. It shone with fierce life. Maybe he was being too hopeful, but it tugged at his heart anyways.

°°°°°°°°°°°

“This is nice.” Annabeth doubted that Thalia thought her neat, bland dorm room was nice but it was to her. There was also the added bonus of the peace and quiet she’d probably get without her brothers next door. “I can’t believe you’re actually here.”

Annabeth has been coming to New York since she was seven. During the summers for camp mostly, and that one time her family stayed for a full year. She’d met Thalia at one of her Dad’s charity dinners the first year they’d come to New York. Even though Thalia had been twelve, both girls had taken to each other right away. Thalia’d been there with her mother, whose career as a television actress had just started to fade, so she listened to the little blonde kid go on and on about the history of the Golden Gate Bridge. They had been like sisters ever since.

Thalia was the first person Annabeth called after a particularly nasty argument with her stepmother. She had helped Annabeth finally enroll in the New York boarding school she’d been eyeing for a while as a compromise.

“You’re actually pretty close to Grover’s school.” Thalia told her. They’d been pretty close with Grover Underwood before Luke died. They had all gone to the same summer camp. Annabeth had kept going even after Luke, but Thalia had stopped. She was surprised to hear Thalia still kept tabs of where he lived. She didn’t know if they were still talking. Grover had always changed the subject when she tried to bring it up. 

Her anger at her father rose again with full force when she thought about the summer with Grover she didn’t get to spend. She made a mental note to call Grover up to hang out as soon as she was done moving in. Hopefully he figured out her Dad was acting crazy again and he wasn’t mad at her.

“What about you? How far away are you?” Annabeth asked. She hoped her nerves didn’t seep into her voice, but of course Thalia noticed.

“Close enough, kiddo. Don’t worry.”

°°°°°°°°°°°

“Aren’t you worried that once you see color it’ll look awful?” Percy wasn’t sure if Rachel was paying him any attention. She was glaring at the canvas in front of her, twirling her paintbrush too close to her nose.  

She shrugged. “Maybe I’ll never find out.” She probably thought Percy was talking about the unfinished painting in front of her.

“Don’t you want to?”

Rachel put her brush down, turning towards Percy. “It’s not that I don’t want to. I just know that if I don’t I won’t be too beat up about it.” He didn’t know if he’d made a face, but Rachel seemed to notice something was up. “Why? Would you?”

“No-I mean- I don’t know…” Rachel was cool, but he’d only known her a few months. It felt too personal to talk about with her. He’d wanted to tell someone about the thunderstorm but the more he thought about it the more he convinced himself that he probably imagined it. Maybe he would tell Grover once school started.

Rachel sighed, going back to her painting. “We’re sixteen, Perce. If you really want it to happen, you’ve got time.”

“It’s not like I’m dying for it to happen or anything.”

She chuckled. “Okay, Percy.”

“I’m not!”

Percy really hated the summers sometimes. Sure, having no school was awesome, but it’d always meant he’d have to work. Anything to get out of the house and not be with Smelly Gabe. He realized “Smelly Gabe” was a pretty childish nickname for his disgusting stepfather but he’d been eight when he thought it up, okay?

It also meant Grover was off to his summer camp, with his ‘awesome friends’ that he always went on about. Percy was pretty proud of himself from meeting Rachel this summer. Well, more like crashing into her since he did almost run her over with his skateboard. It’d been quite a sight having a frizzy-hairedm shiny (he imagined she’d been covered in golden paint from the sheen of her skin and his mother’s description of the color) girl yelling at him. She said she’d forgive him if he donated to her cause (“Save Public School Art Programs”) but seeing as he was broke she settled for him giving her his honest opinion about her art. He’d been coming to her apartment each afternoon after his dog-walking job ever since. So far he’d helped her finish two paintings. 

He hadn’t really stuck around for the art though. Percy was pretty confused as to why Rachel valued his opinion when he clearly didn’t know the first thing about painting, but she did. She made him feel smart, and she was pretty smart herself. Rachel was also attending Percy’s new school: Goode High School. They weren’t supposed to start for another week but Grover got back today and Percy was excited to have his two friends meet. He tried to ignore how lame it was that he only had two friends. 

They were meeting at Rachel’s penthouse because it was big enough to fit two of Percy’s apartment in it and because it was always empty. Rachel’s parents tried to make up for leaving her alone all the time by providing her with endless amounts of cheese plates and all the take-out she wanted. Percy was also excited to see Grover’s face when he saw the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Percy’s phone buzzed with a text from Grover.  I’m at the lobby. U sure I got the right address?

Percy smiled to himself and answered:  Yep I’ll buzz u in

Grover’s face when Rachel opened the door for him was definitely worth it. Percy didn’t miss how uncomfortable all the attention seemed to make Rachel though, so he smiled at her and she couldn’t help but laugh along at Grover’s cry of excitement when he saw the enchiladas they’d ordered. “Whoa!” He hesitated but Rachel, clearly embarrassed insisted he’d go ahead. “What a great day. First Annabeth texts me she moved here and now enchiladas!”

“Wait.” Percy said, “Annabeth’s here?”

[katymacsupernatural]

Stories to Awaken Terror Part 5: The Pond

Dean Winchester x Reader

2800 Words

Story Summary:As a couple of kids read a scary book, Sam, Dean and Y/N live those scary tales. Will they be able to figure out what’s causing the hunts before it’s too late?

Catch Up Here: Masterpost

Warnings: Snakes! Also, sorry for any mistakes!

Dean’s POV

The paper lay on the table in the middle of us, all three of you staring down at such a simple item. But it wasn’t. This simple paper had our lives written on it, and someone, like a child, had made it possible for Y/N to be walking this Earth again. It was terrifying, and I wanted this to end as soon as possible, but I hadn’t the slightest idea where to start.

“Do you think it could be a prophet?” Sam thought out loud. “Maybe even Chuck messing with us?”

“Chuck’s gone missing, so I don’t think so,” Y/N argued. “And we know the only prophet. I don’t think that’s it either.”

“So we’re back at square one. Sure, we have the paper, but we don’t know if it’s an Angel, witch, Demon. Hell, has anyone checked to see if this is a dream brought on by a Djinn?”  I asked.

“I hope not,” Y/N whispered, quiet enough that she thought nobody would hear. But I did, and I turned to stare at her, immediately realizing what she was thinking.  That our relationship would be nothing more than a part of that dream. I could see how much it had upset her, as she turned and left for her room.

“What was that about?” Sam asked, both of us staring towards the hallway.

“I think it was about the Djinn. If this is a dream, then that means…,” I let my words fade away, not wanting to speak them outloud.

“Then the two of you wouldn’t be, I get it,” Sam finished. “But Dean, you cared for her before all of this happened.”

“I know that. But she doesn’t,” i sighed. “Sam, see if you can dig anything else up. I’m going to talk to Y/N, see if I can somehow make her feel better about this.

“Mom, Dad!” Zach called out, storming through the house. “Have you seen my book?”

“What book is that sweetie?” His Mom asked, stepping out of the kitchen. “Isn’t Tyler supposed to be here any minute?”

“Yeah, that’s why I need my book!” Zach grumbled, his eyes red, his hands almost shaking.

“Zach, I...I found it,” Sophia stuttered. “It was in Dad’s study.”

“Oh, that old book. Why are you guys reading it anyways?” His Mom asked, but Zach just rolled his eyes, snatching the book and holding it to his chest.

“We need to finish it,” Zach insisted, taking the book outside while Sophia waited for Tyler.

The sun was starting to set when they were finally ready to start. Sophia was settled into her corner of the tent, already a frown on her face. “Zach, do you think we should stop reading? I’m starting to not like this book.”

“No!” He exclaimed, his eyes wide and scary. “We’ve got to finish the story!”

Turning the book to the next chapter, Zach started reading, his voice once again low and creepy. “It had been going on for decades,” Zach read. “Children would hike to this pond, a cool swim their intent, only to never be found. Adults stayed cleared of the murky waters, threatening their children to do the same. But it never failed, at least one child a summer would be drawn in by the coolness the water promised, only to never come up for air.”

“That’s creepy!” Tyler broke in, earning a glare from Zach.

“After the seventh kid had gone missing, it drew the attention of one of our heroes, who arrived to save the kids. But not used to hunting alone, things take a turn south.”

Y/N, can I come in?” I asked, quietly knocking on her door.

“Sure,” came her voice, muted through the door and I pushed my way in to see her sitting on her bed, her legs drawn up to her chest. “Dean, do you think that’s what this is? Just part of a Djinn dream?”

“No, I don’t,” I assured her, settling down next to her. “Y/N, I care about you before all these weird hunts started happening. So, even if this is all just a weird dream, I know I’ll still care about you afterwards as well.”

“I cared about you before too,” she admitted. “I always wanted to tell you, but I was too afraid.”

Just as I went to pull her into a hug, I heard a loud crash from the library. “Sam?” I called out, frowning when he didn’t answer.

“I don’t like this,” Y/N whispered, both of us standing up and heading back into the library. The paper was still in the middle of the table, Sam’s laptop beside it. A lamp had toppled to its side, along with the chair. A couple of books were thrown about the floor, but Sam was nowhere to be seen.

“Sam?” I called out. “Sammy!”

“Dean, look!” Y/N pointed to the screen, and I came over, wondering what could have happened to Sam. Peering down, I noticed the police report on the main screen, along with past newspaper articles. They all pointed to the same thing, missing children, with suspicion they died in the old town pond.

“Do you think…,” She started to say.

“Do I think that Sam got sucked in to a hunt like you did? Yeah, I do,” I muttered. “This one’s about three hours away. Hopefully he doesn’t go close to the pond before then. That thing’s creepy!”

Sure the sun was setting, and both of you wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and catch some sleep. But I couldn’t. Not now, with Sam missing, off to fight another hunt, and who knows what this story or dream we were in had in store for us.

“Dean, don’t worry, we’ll find him,” Y/N assured me as we climbed into the Impala, my jaw set as I wondered exactly what we were stepping in to.

The town was fairly large, an agricultural town I guessed as we pulled up to the gas station. “You get gas, I’ll see if I can get any information from the attendant,” Y/N offered, bouncing up the stairs, leaving me behind at the greasy old gas pump.

With the Impala fueling up, I watched as Y/N flirted with the gas attendant, and I had to force myself not to get jealous.

When she came back with a huge smile on her face, I slammed the gas pump back into place, sliding into place behind the steering wheel. “I found out where the pond is!” She exclaimed, sliding in beside me. “And where Sam might bunk down.”

Shoving my jealousy down, I turned to face her. “So we go get a hotel room, and hope that Sam’s there?”

“I think that’s our best start. If he’s not there, we head to the pond, or the police department,” she agreed, sliding over and laying her head on my shoulder, sending away any remaining jealousy.

The hotel was another run down, paint peeling type of place, only minutes away from where the pond was supposedly located. Y/N stayed in the car while I went in to get a room, hoping that Sam was there as well.

It was only minutes later I walked back out, a key in my hand, shaking my head towards Y/N who leaned up against the Impala. “Well, he was here. Got a room, and then took off. They haven’t seen him since.”

“Dean, we’ll find him,” she assured me, squeezing my hand, giving the comfort I so desperately needed. I hated not knowing where Sam was. These hunts were unpredictable, and were driving me crazy.

“Let’s head to the pond,” I insisted, knowing in my heart that something wasn’t right. That this wasn’t going to be a simple hunt.

“What do you think we’re dealing with? A water sprite? A drowned spirit?” She asked as we climbed back into the car. “Do we bring our entire menagerie of weapons?”

“I really have no idea,” I answered. “Maybe the salt, but I have no clue. Let’s hope that we don’t have to use any quite yet.”

The interior of the car turned silent as I drove the short distance to the pond. Or at least to the pull off we were directed to. The pond was a mile hike, something I wasn’t exactly looking forward to.

Pulling off the road, we immediately noticed the older sedan parked off to the side. Knowing it was probably Sam, I made my way to the back of the Impala, quickly stashing different weapons into my duffel bag, Y/N doing the same. “Ready?” I asked her, and she nodded.

As we turned to the trail, I reached out, grasping her arm. “Just promise me that you won’t go into the water. No matter what happens, don’t go into the pond. We’ll figure something out, I just can’t have you go into the water.”

“Dean, I can’t promise that,” she answered. “But let’s not worry about that now. Let’s worry about finding Sam.”

The trail to the pond was easy to spot, and easy to follow. Often able to walk side by side, you kept an eye out for something out of place. It wasn’t until you had gone almost three quarters of a mile when you heard what sounded like a struggle. “Y/N, listen,” you whispered, your hand on her shoulder.

“That’s Sam!” She exclaimed the same time I realized it as well. Racing off, her right behind me, I came to the top of the hill, seeing Sam across from me. The pond was in between us, surrounded by tall oak trees and willows. It was a serene place, with a sense of creepiness attached.

Sam was breathing heavily, a shovel in his hands as he dug at the dam. “Sam!” I called out, his eyes widening when he saw up.

“Dean, I need help! There’s a boy, and he’s not coming back!” Sam exclaimed. Rushing forward, I began stripping out of my jacket as Y/N raced over to Sam’s side.

“No, Dean!” Sam screamed, stopping me before I could jump into the water. “Don’t jump into the water!”

“This story isn’t as scary as the rest,” Tyler muttered, laying back down on his bed as Zach finally paused. “I mean, what’s scary about people missing in a muddy pond?”

“I have to agree with Tyler,” Sophia agreed. “This one doesn’t seem like it fits in with the rest.”

“Can I just keep reading?” Zach grumbled, annoyed with the distruptance of his friends. “I don’t care if it’s creepy, I need to finish it.”

“This book has gotten to you, man,” Tyler told his friend. “Sometimes I wish we never started it.”

“Don't’ say that!” Zach slammed his hand onto the book. “This book is everything. We have to finish it!”

“Don’t you feel like reading this is wrong?” His sister asked, scooping up a handful of popcorn. “I can’t help but feel we’re doing something wrong by reading it. What if these people are real or something?”

“Sophia don’t be ridiculous,” Zach insisted, before turning back to the book.

“Why can’t I?” I asked, trying to catch my balance. But it was then I understood why. Staring up at me were the creepy, unblinking eyes of a dead girl as she continued to reach up for help, even in death. But it wasn’t just the dead, glassy eyes that scared me into scuttling backwards. It was the snake slithering out of her mouth, his tongue flicking as it turned it’s head towards me.

“What the hell?” I asked, making my way towards Sam and Y/N.

Sam was furiously digging, and Y/N had picked up a stick, helping him as much as possible.

“I have no idea. I got dumped her, much like I suspected Y/N had. I started digging around, finding out they had managed to pull one body out. It was full of snakes, but not just any type of snakes. Venomous copperhead snakes. I’m thinking this pool is haunted by some sort of Native American Curse.

“I hate snakes,” I muttered, feeling little comfort in the fact that I sounded like Indiana Jones. “So, what’s the plan?”

“I’m trying to break the Dam. If I can get to the bottom of the pond, maybe we can figure out what’s causing it.”

“You said something about a boy?” Y/N asked, wiping her face, getting a streak of mud across her cheek.

“He went in just before I got here. I don’t think he made it,” Sam mumbled, frowning.

Braking off another branch, I helped dig at the soft dirt, watching as water started to fall down the hill. With one final push of his shovel, the dam broke, and we climbed up to higher ground, watching as the water poured down the hill, soaking into the ground below.

As the pond drained, more dead bodies appeared, in various forms of decomposition. The girl I had seen earlier hung by the edge of the pond, caught in branches as another snake slid from her mouth, down into the water.

As I moved to put my stick down, my foot slipped, and I found myself sliding into the murky waters of the pool, where more copperheads were no doubt waiting for me. “Dean!” Y/N cried, as my foot slipped into the water. Scrambling to find something to hold on to, I felt the water creeping up my legs, and I knew it would only be a matter of time before a snake started slithering up my leg.

Sam slid down the bank, grabbing my hand and attempting to pull me up. With the soft ground, it was a struggle, but finally he had me out of the water and back onto the hill. Breathing heavily, we stared down, where I had just been. Two snakes were partially out of the water, hissing as they hit the dirt. “They can’t leave the pond,” Y/N whispered, as we watched them slide back in to what was left of the water.

It was almost twenty minutes later when the water was mostly gone, showing at least ten skeleton’s underneath. The ground was a whirling mass of snakes, slithering in and out of the bones, hissing as they tried to find water to hide in. “That’s just disgusting,” Y/N whispered, holding tight to my arm. “But wait!”

Following where she had pointed, I saw the newest death, a young boy trapped by the other side, his mouth wide open in fear. Clutched in his hand was a soggy, faded piece of paper, much like at the other hunt. “I’m not going in to get it,” I insisted, seeing all the snakes around him.

“Neither do I,” both Sam and Y/N said at the same time. “But Dean, do we try and give people closure? I think it would be best to burn this whole place.”

“I agree. I’d like to see that paper, but there’s no way we’re trying to bring up any of these bodies. I’ll get the lighter fluid.”

After thoroughly dumping three cases of lighter fluid on the skeletons and writhing bodies of the snakes, Sam held up a match, tossing it down, watching as the flames licked upwards. The snakes continued to hiss before finally going up in flames. “Do you think that will take care of the curse?” Y/N asked.

“I have no idea, but I think with the pond gone, and the snakes it’s a start,” Sam answered, all of us picking up our items before turning back to the car.

Without even spending the night at the hotel, we drove back to the bunker, surprised to see Cas already there, waiting for us. “Where were you?” He asked, noticing my muddy pants, Y/N’s muddy cheek, and Sam’s shirt.

“We took care of a curse,” Sam sighed.

“I think I found out more information about what’s happening to you,” Cas said. “I noticed this paper, and it goes with what I found out.”

“Cas, we’re dirty and tired. So whatever you have to say, spit it out,” I mumbled, taking a beer from the fridge.

“Sam, Dean, Y/N, these hunts that you’ve been experiencing. They’re all part of an ancient curse.”

“But what do they have to do with that page? And why us?” Y/N asked.

“I think the curse is in a book. And that page is from that book. But I’m still not sure why it’s targeting you. I’m still looking, but I wanted you to know what I’ve found. So please, try to be safe while I figure out more,” he ordered. “Oh, can I have this?”

Without waiting for an answer, Cas disappeared, the paper gone as well.

Dean/Jensen Tags:@acreativelydifferentlove @a-girl-who-loves-disney @akshi8278 @anokhi07 @aubreystilinski @bebravekeeponfighting @brindz30 @colette2537 @crusadedean @deanwinchesters-impala67 @haelyn @horsegirly99 @ikeneasul11 @its-not-a-tulpa @just-another-winchester @lady-phoenix-of-tardis @librarygeekery @msimpala67 @love-charmer-sketch @ria132love @ruprecht0420 @shadowhunter7 @sizzlingbearpolice @sleep-silent-angel @sortaathief @superseejay721517 @torn-and-frayed @wonderfulworldofwinchester

Stories to Awaken Tags: @joseyrw @suckystoryteller @salt-n-burn-em-all @wingedcatninja @waywardbaby @waywardnerd67 @horsegirly99 @profoundly-bitchy-collection @jae-sch @sociopathtime @depressed-moose-78 @sophiebobzz @oreosatmidnight @librarygeekery @winchesterxtwo @asirammm @itsmerighthere @squirrelnotsam @karmamariejoy @linki-locks11 @xthelittlethings @incredibly-sarcastic-url @alwayskeepfightingkaz-2y5 @imascio08 @deansbabygirl01 @deansgirl215 @sasquatch5 @kay18115 @gh0stgurl @quackerstheduck663057 @photos-by-16 @idk-wtf-is-happening @pheonyxstorm @fandom-queen-of-wonderland @bunnybaby121115

Forever Tags(CLOSED): 

@16wiishes @4401lnc @algud @amanda-teaches @andreaaalove @angelsandwinchesters @anspgene @artisticpoet @atc74 @be-amaziing @bemyqueenofdarkness @bohowitch @buckysmetalgoddamnarm @bumber-car-s @brooke-supernatural16  @brunettechick @camelotandastronauts @captainradicalpassion @chelsea072498 @clairese1980 @captainemwinchester @darthdeziewok @destiels-new-girl @donnaintx @dont-you-dare-say-misha @dslocum89 @duckieburns @docharleythegeekqueen @emmazach @emilicious-7 @emoryhemsworth @ericaprice2008  @esoltis280 @essie1876 @generalgoldfishldrm @goldenolaf25 @growningupgeek @herbologystudent252 @heyitscam99 @highfunctioning-soiciopath @hms-fangirl @hobby27 @ichooseeternalplaces @imboredsueme @internationalmusicteacher @ithinkimadorable-67 @iwriteaboutdean  @jayankles @jensen-gal @just-another-busy-fangirl @karlee-fay-my-wayward-son @keelzy2 @leanbeankeane @lifelovelaughangell123 @li-ssu @littleblue5mcdork  @lowlyapprentice @luciferslucille @maui137 @mellowlandrunaway @mogaruke @nanie5 @natashacamillaus @newtospnfandom @offbeatsilhouette @percussiongirl2017 @pilaxia @pizzarollpatrol @plaid-lover-bay25 @ronja-uebrick @rosegoldquintis @roxyspearing @samanddeanmyheroes @sandlee44 @shamelesslydean @sillesworldofwriting @sgarrett49 @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @smoothdogsgirl @spnbaby-67 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @spnwoman @sunskittlex @starry-chaos @superbadassnatural @thebikiniinspector @theflameontheinside @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @tina8009 @totallovelesson @tunadean @vvinch3st3r @walkslikesummeractslikerain @whimsicalrobots @wildlandfox @winchesterbrothers-inc @winchesterxtwo @winchester-writes @worldwidehansum @zombiewerewolfqueen

[adapted-batteries]

Fairies Gone Rogue

Fandoms: The Librarians, Dresden Files

Rating: Teen, mostly sfw

Relationship: Jassekiel

Word Count: 6981

A continuation of the Land Pirates AU. The LiTs have a new case in Chicago, but they aren’t the only ones trying to figure out what’s behind the random accidents.

Also posted on my Ao3.

-----

The clippings book fluttered its pages incessantly, trying to alert the team that a new case had arisen. There were people in the main room. Their willfully ignoring the book was the problem. Rather than waste time when they weren't going to listen, the clippings book settled and reached out into the Annex, locating the trio currently very...occupied...behind one of the bookcases.

It knew what they were doing, of course. The clippings book knew everything by being a communication device for the Library. It knew that humans did this from time to time, and the act meant (generally) that the people involved were emotionally bonded. For the team to work well, it was important...but not nearly important to do so at the frequency the Library had been witnessing, which any number larger than one per relationship within a couple months was more than Library could stand, considering they did not live here. The LiTs were very much above that limit, and rightly so, the Library was annoyed. If the Librarian and Guardian were here more often, they wouldn't be so frisky. Such was the sacrifice the Library had to endure to save the world from Dulaque and whatever else might go wrong in the meantime.

Since pages alone wouldn't work, the clippings book sifted through the nearby shelves in search of the heaviest book that wasn't in a delicate state. It then relocated that book physically to the floor near the trio at a much faster speed than it would've achieved by gravity alone, producing the desired boom. If the clippings book could smile, it would at the shock and startled faces on the LiTs. Satisfied it had their attention now, the clippings book went back to fluttering on its stand.

“That wasn't very nice,” Cassandra mumbled, looking around to see if any other books were going to bombard them while she straightened her blouse.

“Sounds like a new case,” Stone grumbled. He glanced in the direction of the still fluttering pages as he smoothed his hair back into a less wild state.

Ezekiel didn't bother with fixing his appearance, as he didn't intend to stop what they had been doing. “It can wait a little while longer.”

Cassandra seemed torn between siding with Ezekiel or the clippings book. “I think the Library wants us to look, considering it did throw a book at us.”

“All it did was stop our fun,” Ezekiel replied to Cassandra, then tilted his head up to the Annex in general. “Not cool, mate.”

“It’s not like we haven't done this already,” Stone started, getting increasingly more unsettled. “Though if the Library knew where to throw the book, that means it was watchin’...which means it probably watched all those other times…”

“It’s not recent news the Library keeps tabs on what goes on inside it,” Ezekiel retorted.

“Let's go look at the case,” Cassandra butted in, trying to get Stone off his train of thought so he wouldn't be freaked out the rest of the day, and hopefully keeping Ezekiel from being grumpy until they could finish what they had started. “We haven't had one for a few days, it'll be fun.”

The boys reluctantly followed her to the desk where the clippings book was still impatiently fluttering pages, settling when they finally neared. They read the various newspaper clippings silently, perplexed with the case.

“Various accidents in Chicago doesn’t seem very magical to me,” Ezekiel said, not trying very hard to hide his disinterest.

Stone seemed a little more intrigued. “That’s what you said last time about all the clocks in that town in North Carolina skipping time, when it turned out the town itself was doing the time skipping.”

Cassandra gave Ezekiel a rather annoyed look. “You do get that things in the clippings book are there because it’s magic somehow, right?”

“I know,” Ezekiel said with a sigh, “but it’s nothing dire, it can wait…” he tried to lean towards Stone, but got shoved away by said cowboy.

“This is our job, Jones, we can’t just do it only when we want,” Stone said. “Besides, I think the Library was trying to send us a message with that book.”

“What, that it doesn’t want us to be happy?” Ezekiel said, most of that sentence directed up towards the ceiling. He waited, but the Library was not going to satisfy him with responding.

“Well, we aren’t really starved for...it...we did just do it a couple days ago in that reading room,” Stone added.

“You can say ‘sex’ Stone, we’ve already been over this,” Ezekiel tutted. “And if that’s the case, why didn’t it stop us then? Or Last week?”

“Maybe it was how much we were, not that we were,” Stone said, face tinged red with realization.

Ezekiel didn’t care for rational and reasonable opinions the Library had about that. “I think the Library is just jealous it can’t love like we can.”

Stone blinked at Ezekiel a few times in confusion. “....What.”

While they argued, Cassandra had been rereading the clippings. “Hey, are you two done yet? Because I think I have a lead already.” The boys focused and looked to where Cassandra was pointing. “In most of these, the people mentioned seeing a small flash of silver light sometime before the accident occurred.”

“You think someone might’ve been casting spells on them?” Stone suggested.

“More than likely,” Cassandra said. She pointed to another clippings. “This one just happened today, that would be the best one to start at.”

“Truck carrying paints explodes in a neighborhood, coating everything in unicorn vomit. I don’t envy whoever’s cleaning that up,” Ezekiel said.

“There haven’t been any injuries, at least nothing above minor ones. Even that truck driver came out only covered in blue paint,” Stone pointed out.

“That is weird,” Cassandra said. “I don’t know of any spell that causes bad luck but with protection from serious injuries. Too bad Jenkins had to go visit Nessie, he would know what spell this was.”

“Guess it’s time for some investigating,” Stone said. The group looked at each other in agreement, then Ezekiel went about setting the door to Chicago.

The scene of the paint explosion was just as weirdly awe-inducing as it sounded. All colors one might see on a house exterior, along with brighter primary and secondary colors, splattered everything within thirty or so feet. The road and the cars parked on either side of it got most of the paint, but the closest houses also got impromptu paint jobs, complete with paint free spots in the shapes of the cars in front of them. Cassandra was thankful the breeze was behind them because the colors all around were enough to make her head hurt.

The street was not void of people either. Most stayed outside the paint mess, but easily spotted shoe prints occasionally entered and left homes. The carcass of the truck trailer, exploded from within, still sat in the epicenter, the sides and top metal walls peeled back somehow instead of breaking completely. A road work crew at the other end of the street looked like they were figuring out how to best clean the mess, but hadn't started yet.

“So, what should we look for?” Ezekiel asked.

“Any sigils or runes, magical objects, well, I don’t really know what to look for,” Cassandra replied.

Just then, a silver light the size of a basketball zoomed past them, zipping into an alleyway two buildings behind them. Stone pointed in that direction. “Does that count?”

“That definitely counts,” Ezekiel answered for her, starting down the street after it. Stone and Cassandra followed him half a second later. Like the professionals they were, they each stuck a head around the edge of the building, specifically in the order of Ezekiel on bottom, Cassandra in the middle, and Stone on top.

A man in a black duster knelt in front of a chalk circle, waving his hands while the silver light zipped around, stuck inside an invisible forcefield it seemed. He was saying something, but it was too low to hear.

Stone pulled the two below him back around the edge of the building. “That has to be the wizard causing the accidents,” he whispered.

“Okay, so what are we going to do?” Ezekiel asked, arms folded in front of him. “Just walk up to him and be like ‘excuse me, but can you please stop doing magic?’ Because that will totally work.”

“We have to subdue him. If he gets away now, he may cause another accident somewhere else,” Cassandra said. She looked to Stone. “You could handle him...right?”

“Theoretically, yeah, but I have no clue what magic he’s capable of,” Stone said with a shrug. “We can’t just charge at him.”

“No...but Cassandra and I could distract him, then you give him a good knock to the head,” Ezekiel said.

“Alright. Give me a couple minutes to get around the block to the other end of the alley, then do whatever distracting you want,” Stone decided. He gave each of them a tender look. “Please be careful, okay?”

“We’ll be fine, mate, it’s you who needs to be careful,” Ezekiel added, playfully ruffling Stone’s hair, but there was concern in his eyes. “You were the one laid up with a broken leg two weeks ago.”

Stone took Ezekiel’s hand out of his hair and held it with both hands. “I told ya, I’m fine, Jenkins cleared me after healin’ me all the way. I’ll watch myself.” He let go and started walking, turning sideways. “Two minutes, okay?” They nodded in acknowledgement, and once Stone disappeared around the corner, they commenced to crafting their spectacular plan.

Like the professional thieves they were, Cassandra and Ezekiel strode up the alleyway like they owned it. “Oi, mate, what are you doing there?” Ezekiel said once they’d gotten within ten feet.

The man startled, looking at them more confused than spooked. He scuffed the circle on the ground, freeing the silver light (which definitely looked like a little person with wings wearing garbage for armor). Both Ezekiel and Cassandra got distracted by it, which the man took advantage of.

“There’s nothing going on here, whoever you are. You can just go ahead and walk back the way you came,” the man started, picking up a staff that had been laying on the ground out of their sight.

“You’ve been making quite a mess,” Cassandra said, trying to ignore the man now standing at his full almost seven feet, with his equally tall staff carved with runes slightly glowing. She also kept her eyes from darting behind the man, where Stone had started creeping into the alley.

“That truck out there was nothing. Chicago’s seen a lot worse, trust me,” the man said, and then realized how he sounded. “Hold on, I didn’t mean-” He didn’t get a chance to clarify as Stone took him down, football defensive lineman style.

Even though Stone was a foot shorter than the man, he had enough muscle to turn the wizard into a rug for the alleyway, complete with a not great sounding “oof” from the man. The man had surprisingly quick reflexes despite the tackle, but instead of smacking Stone with his staff, Stone caught it and used the momentum to pull it out of his hands, then clocked him with it, relieving the man of consciousness temporarily.

Stone stood next to him, looking a bit like a hobbit with the staff. “Good thing Baird wanted to train with bo staffs last month.”

Ezekiel started searching the man for anything dangerous. While there were things he figured were probably magical, he didn’t find anything warranting taking. “So, what are we going to do with him?” he asked, standing up.

“We could take him back to the Library,” Cassandra suggested.

“Why would we want to do that? It doesn’t sound very smart to take a wizard to the largest store of magical items,” Stone countered.

“If we keep him away from the artifacts, we should be okay,” Cassandra said, looking at the staff in Stone’s hand. “He might not do magic without this staff, look at all the runes in it. And he didn’t cast anything at us either.”

“If I restrain him, he won’t be moving much,” Ezekiel added. He glanced down at the body. “We should hurry, before he wakes up and laughs at us still planning.”

Stone didn’t look thrilled, but handed Cassandra the staff and started lifting the man by the armpits. “You better quit runnin’ your mouth then and grab his feet.”

Ezekiel tried to look saucy while he grabbed jean clad ankles. “Why don’t you make me?”

“Boys, now is not the time,” Cassandra barked, scowling particularly at Ezekiel. “Let’s go, the door isn’t that far away from here.”

Surprisingly, the LiTs managed to move an unconscious tree of a man in broad daylight without problem. They decided to tie him up in a chair in the sparring room, and waited until he woke up.

---

Harry had not been having a great couple of days. Something was wrong with the fairies, and they were making a mess all over Chicago. The first couple of times he couldn’t even summon Toot, and just when he managed it, some punks came and knocked him out. Stuff like this can make a guy feel pretty useless.

He came to in a room that looked like it belonged in a gentleman’s club from a century ago, or more. The wood paneled walls and floor looked old, and real, along with the antique-looking exercise equipment next to a modern exercise bike. The other weapons in the room though, they looked like something that came out of a larper’s wet dream. Staffs (including his own) and swords and shields and other weapons he recognized but couldn’t name sat in various racks. Wherever he was practically reeked of magic, the air practically vibrating with it. More importantly, he was tied in a chair, and the three attackers were watching him.

They hadn’t gagged him; their loss. “Look, I think there’s been a misunderstanding-”

The one who put him on the ground in the alley cut him off. “You were doing magic right at the scene of the latest accident, there’s not much to misunderstand,” he said, folding his arms. Harry figured he had to be from somewhere south.

“Okay, yeah, I was doing magic. But I was trying to figure out why the accidents are happening, not cause them,” Harry countered. None of them looked like they believed him; considering the situation, that was fair. “Why did you take me anyway? Who are you people?”

“We’re the Librarians,” the redhead said. When she did, there was distinct magic in her words, not enough to charm him like it probably did an average person, but enough to make him curious.

“What kind of name is that? Are you some by-the-book wizard vigilantes?” Harry asked. Apparently his response confused them based on their inter-looking. “You really should find out who the other magically inclined people in the area are before you go incapacitating them, and trying to charm them, because if you had, you’d know that I’ve got Chicago covered.”

“Who are you then?” the Asian one with the unexpected Australian accent said.

“If you had looked in a phone book before you went all vigilante, you would know. Probably don’t even know what a phone book is,” Harry mumbled, that last bit aimed at the Asian one since he looked younger than the other two. They all just looked more confused at that. “The name’s Harry Dresden, wizard for hire.”

“And what exactly do you get hired for?” the Asian one said. Despite his youth, the kid had an air about him that said he’d been through some shit. In fact, the woman had a similar air to her too; it was the southern fighter who seemed less weathered somehow, more on edge having someone tied up in a chair in front of him. Harry concluded the Asian and the redhead had some sketchy black market experience.

“Well, I’m a P. I., so anything a P. I. might be good for, and then there’s the things a wizard P. I. would be good for,” Harry replied. He could see the fighter thinking up a question, so he beat him to it. “No, I don’t do jobs that involve cursing and hexing and such. I’m an honorable wizard.”

“Then why were you there in the alley?” the fighter asked.

“Like I told you before, I was trying to figure out why the accidents were happening in the first place. Well, I know why, probably…” Harry tapered off. There was no reason to tell these people anything, for all he knew, they were the ones causing the problems with the fairies. “Why were you sneaking up on me?”

The three glanced at each other, having some eye conversation Harry interpreted as a “do we trust him” and “maybe he can help” and “but what if he’s actually bad” type of eye conversation, with both of the men ultimately deferring to the redhead. She walked up to him, not close, but enough to change her presence from aloof in thought to leader of the bunch with a calculating eye. “We keep magical items out of the wrong hands,” she said.

“So you run the magical equivalent of that warehouse in Indiana Jones,” Harry concluded. Maybe the White Council needed one of those.

“...sure. Except it sits in its own pocket dimension and also contains a copy of every book ever written,” she added.

“That explains the name then, and why this place leaks magic like no one’s business,” Harry said. Something told him these people probably weren’t evil, but there wasn’t any way to confirm, except maybe Sight, but who knows what he’d see in here. He used his Sight anyway, because Harry was pretty good at ignoring risks, and he was just plain curious.

The lady, since she was nearest, was the first thing he saw, once he adjusted to the near pure magic running through the walls and floor like electrical wiring. The amount of magic surrounding her was like looking into the sun. Magic she hadn’t used though; maybe she didn’t know, or didn’t want to, who knows. A faint black blob near her head leaked black smoke, but the wild magic disturbed it. Whatever that was, she was fighting it as much as her will could. Underneath all the magic he could see her, almost identical but in a white dress, eyes pure white like the magic around her.

Next he looked at the Asian man, and he audibly gasped. On his head was a gleaming winged helmet. His skin shimmered with the same divine energy. He had to be a demigod. However, compared to the lady, the intensity of magic was like night and day, his magic only barely seeping through his pores. He had some scars on his arms and head which faded into his hair; they looked old and fairly well healed.

Finally he looked at the fighter. Glowing MMA gloves adorned his hands, and he also had a glittering chainmail shirt. There were bruises, faded, but still noticeable, on his face. While he lacked magic in or around him, there was a little person standing next to him, head reaching his waist. The spirit was watching Harry with a curious expression, but it didn’t do anything else. Before he switched his Sight off, Harry noticed the light pink line connecting each of them by the heart. He had a pretty good guess what that meant.

It took a moment for Harry to adjust to the relative darkness of the room. The three were looking at him like he just spaced out, which essentially he did. “You okay there?” the fighter asked.

“Oh, yeah, just had a little think,” Harry said. “Something tells me you won’t leave Chicago if I asked you to, so instead I’m gonna let you help me.” That got narrowed eyes from the redhead. “I have a good idea why the accidents have been happening,” Harry paused for dramatic effect, “but first, you need to untie me.”

“Sure, and I’m just gonna be purple now,” the demigod replied sarcastically.

Harry rolled his eyes. “If we’re gonna work together, we need to have some mutual trust, and me being tied up doesn’t exactly convey that.” No one moved to untie him, so he thought up another reason to make them less wary. “I don’t hurt people unless I have to. I have no reason to hurt you, and I’m the only one in this room who has a personal connection to the problem.”

After yet another eye conversation, the Asian one untied him. Harry rubbed his wrists, then itched his nose, and then got to a more relaxed position in the chair now that his ankles weren’t tied to the legs. “First off, you know my name, but I don’t know yours. I’d rather have something to call you.” There was a quick glance at each other, which Harry kept from being another eye conversation by saying, “I can’t do anything to you if I don’t know your whole name, so just don’t tell me all of it and you’re fine.”

The redhead tilted her head up. “Cassandra.”

The Asian flicked his wrist. “Ezekiel.”

The fighter tilted his head down, like he lifted an imaginary stetson. “Stone.”

Harry nodded at them. “Okay, so you probably saw that silver light, yeah? Well, that was Toot-Toot...he’s a dew-drop fairy. Normally they don’t do stuff like this, but something’s gotten the fairies even more rowdy than they usually are.”

“Do you have any idea what’s made them like this?” Cassandra asked.

“My guess is some sort of magical drug. I haven’t found any charm or magical signature anywhere, and Toot seemed drugged when he finally came to me summoning him,” Harry answered. “And if it is that, I can whip up a general nullification potion, but I don’t have enough to treat all the fairies in Za-Lord’s Guard.”

“Za-Lord’s Guard?” Stone asked.

“Oh, that’s what they call themselves. They call me Za-Lord because I pay them in pizza. They get information when I need it, and they make a formidable guard,” Harry explained. “With my own supplies, I probably only have enough for half the guard, and it’d take time to get ingredients again.”

“Well,” Cassandra started, glancing at the others behind her, “we do have a lab, which also has potion brewing equipment, and maybe the ingredients you need.”

Stone leaned towards Cassandra. “Jenkins ain’t gonna be happy to know we let a stranger into his lab.”

“What Jenkins doesn’t know doesn’t hurt him,” Cassandra replied. Stone didn’t seem content with that, but he didn’t argue. Cassandra turned to Harry and started walking past him. “Follow me.”

“Sure thing, but first, I'd like my staff back,” Harry said. Stone immediately looked uneasily at Cassandra, who then looked warily at Harry. He wasn't going to get his staff back. “Fine. I don't need it for potions, but I want someone to at least bring it so it doesn't get left here.”

“I'll get it,” Ezekiel said, grabbing the staff before Harry could stop him. Comically, it was a good foot taller than him. Not so comically, the runes started glowing faintly in his grasp. Ezekiel looked at the staff wide-eyed. “Uh, is it supposed to do that?”

“You might want to let someone else hold it,” Harry started, clearing his throat to hide his concern about what Ezekiel just managed.

Stone took the staff, watching Ezekiel for a moment, then glaring at Harry. “Why’d it light up like that?”

“I don’t actually know. You aren’t a wizard, are you?” Harry asked Ezekiel, who shook his head, confused. “Well, just don’t hold it again. Now, let's go make us a potion.”

---

Cassandra had never seen a potion quite like the one Harry made. She had watched Jenkins make a few, but they were all very plant or nature based. Harry’s potion was much more physical based, calling for things Cassandra previously thought not edible like body wash for touch, the sound of flowing water, and a piece of clean white cloth.

Harry assured her it would work. Even more surprising was the fact that Harry was able to find all he needed to to make a full batch in Jenkins’s lab. She made a mental note to ask Jenkins about different potion brewing methods when he returned.

“Okay, easy part done. Now to round up fifteen or so fairies off their balls on magical drugs,” Harry announced once he poured the potion into an empty milk jug and screwed on the cap.

“How do we round up fairies?” Ezekiel asked. “That one that zipped past us was pretty fast.”

“If I can summon Toot again, he can help find the rest, hopefully,” Harry said, taking the pot he had used to the nearby sink to wash it. “Our problem now is that Toot won’t be at the paint explosion anymore. In order to find him, we have to wait until they cause another accident somewhere.”

“Can we predict where they might be next?” Stone asked.

“There's no rhyme or reason to the accidents. It’s like they just fly around and cause a mess when they see potential for one,” Harry replied, scrubbing the pot with a soapy sponge.

“Are you sure there’s not a pattern?” Cassandra asked, thoughts already rolling. “I don’t know Chicago well enough to catch if the incidents we know about have a pattern.” She turned to Ezekiel, who was tapping at his phone already. “Could you map them and sort by date, earliest to latest?”

“On it, Red,” Ezekiel chimed, typing for a second more, then grabbing Stone by the arm. “We’ll have it up on the projector in five minutes or so.” The two left, leaving Cassandra alone with Harry.

Cassandra busied herself with organizing some of the supplies while Harry scrubbed away, even though he did a pretty good job of cleaning up already.

“So, how long you been a, uh, a librarian?” Harry asked.

“Eight months,” Cassandra said. “How long have you been a wizard?”

“Oh, I've had magical inclinations since I was ten, but it took years of training to be what I am now.” He looked thoughtfully at the pot, deciding it was well scrubbed, and started rinsing it. “How come I've never heard of this place?”

“It is a secret magical library for a reason, and it works best if it stays that way too,” Cassandra said, a bit of threat under the words.

“Understandable,” Harry said with a nod. “Though from what I've seen, regular people tend to explain away magic as much as they can.”

Cassandra thought for a moment. Maybe this wizard might have some outside knowledge towards the Library’s overarching problem. “Have you heard anything about a Dulaque?”

The question was enough to get Harry to glance over his shoulder at her. “You mean like Lancelot Dulaque?”

“That's the one,” Cassandra said quite unenthused.

Harry seemed pretty confused. “Well, he was alive at one point, a night to King Arthur in Camelot, but that was over a millennium ago. Why, should I have heard more recent news?”

“Well, he’s certainly still alive,” Cassandra said.

He didn’t seem all that shocked to hear that. “That's news to me. The one I thought may be around still is Merlin, but I didn't think the knights were ever immortal.” He sat the now rinsed pot on the drying rack next to the sink, then turned to face Cassandra. “Should I be concerned about him? Or any other people from that time?”

“He’s attempting to boost the ley lines, but he's not managed to do it yet,” Cassandra said, noting the way Harry looked at her with mild horror. “It was enough to make Morgan Le Fay head to the feywild anyway.”

“So she’s around too, sort of,” Harry mused. “Well at least the courts are more than strong enough to handle her there if things went south.” He scratched the scruff on his chin in thought. “I'll keep an eye and ear out for Dulaque. If he got what he wanted, my job would be a lot harder.”

“Is Chicago a big city for magic?” Cassandra asked. They hadn't really had any cases take them there since they started.

“It’s certainly got more going on than you'd think,” Harry replied, grabbing his staff which Stone had left propped against a cabinet. “I think it's been five minutes.”

Cassandra knew six minutes and twenty seconds had past, but didn't say it. “It probably has,” she said, grabbing the jug of potion. “Hopefully I'll be able to find a pattern so we aren't sitting around all day waiting.”

Harry glanced at her as they walked into the hallway. “Your friend isn't the one figuring it out? He seemed like he was.”

“Oh, Ezekiel can map them for me, but I can do better than his algorithms generally,” Cassandra said casually. She could feel Harry’s shocked stare, which made her smile a little.

---

Ezekiel had already mapped the incidents as they showed up in the clippings book, or more accurately, the app he made that connected to the Library did that for him. All Ezekiel had to do was send that data to the computer and turn on the projector. It took Stone more time to get the white screen set up in front of the back door, and they still had two of the five minutes left.

“I’ll go get them,” Stone said. He started back towards the lab since Cassandra and Harry hadn’t left yet, but Ezekiel caught him by the hip.

“Or, we could make use of the little time we have alone,” Ezekiel purred, pressing himself against Stone.

“Zeke, we can’t, we got a mission to do,” Stone explained, but he couldn’t help but tilt his head close to the thief’s.

“Come on, just a little kiss then,” Ezekiel suggested, his nose barely brushing against Stone’s.

Stone knew if they started, it was likely they weren’t gonna stop, but Ezekiel was oh so good at making Stone ignore the logical part of himself. “...Just one,” Stone said, and pressed his lips against Ezekiel’s.

As predicted, the one kiss turned into a bunch, which turned into Ezekiel pressed against the nearest wall. They didn't have long though; Harry cleared his throat loudly as he and Cassandra walked into the annex’s main room. Ezekiel let out a frustrated noise as Stone stepped out of his space. The archaeologist looked a little embarrassed at being caught, and Ezekiel looked downright annoyed they got interrupted.

Cassandra rolled her eyes at both of them, then walked towards the screen. She studied it for a moment, then flicked her hands in front of her, processing the information via visual hallucination. The boys watched her casually since it was a fairly regular occurrence, and she'd gotten better with keeping it from overwhelming her. Harry watched with confusion and mild concern.

“There’s been fourteen incidents in the span of five days….not concentric or spiral, but there’s something net like...Zeke put on the leyline overlay, as fine of a resolution as you can...oh yes, that’s it, they’re following branches off the main leylines,” Cassandra concluded, swiping away her calculations. “Which means, the nearest branch intersection from the paint truck should be somewhere near here, and they’ll probably do something within the next couple of hours, based off the intervals.” She pointed to an intersection of the glowing blue lines just north of downtown Chicago.

“How did you figure that? And how do you get technology to work in here?” Harry asked.

“Synesthete with a mix of photographic memory,” Cassandra said, though she paused to think about his second question. “Why would it not work?”

“All the wizards I know can fry a phone just by standing near it. How that projector hasn’t started bugging out with me here I have no clue,” Harry explained.

“Must be you mate. Internet here is superb quality,” Ezekiel said.

“So we know where, but what’s the plan?” Stone asked.

“Ideally, I’ll summon Toots, douse him with the potion, then from there we do that for the rest of the fairies,” Harry said. “Unless you have a better idea.”

Cassandra looked to Stone. “Jenkins would know if we had something...do you have any literary suggestions that could lead us in the right direction?”

“I can certainly try,” Stone said. He went over to the card catalogue and started pulling drawers, looking at cards, eventually accumulating three cards after about five minutes (Ezekiel’s pet project of turning the card catalogue digital was still a long way from finished). “I’ve got a reference for a text on fairies and other fae creatures, what looks like potentially a spell book with ways to summon a few things, and someone’s diary kept while in the feywild.”

Harry glanced to Cassandra. “Any chance I can get a library card here?”

She gave him a sympathetic smile. “Sorry, strict no-loan policy,” then turned to the group in general, “those books may have something useful.” She looked over to Ezekiel. “How well does the searching the digital artifact inventory work?” (That project was technically complete, but Ezekiel let Jenkins do item tags and warnings for a lot of it since Jenkins was in charge of the physical inventory logs, which makes searching for something like “magic fairy catcher” turn up nothing)

“If Jenkins is the one searching, it works fine...but for anyone else except maybe Flynn it’s kind of hit or miss,” Ezekiel confessed, pulling up the program on the computer. “I’ll try my best, but no promises.”

Twenty minutes later, the team actually turned up something useful. Turned out the Library had an artifact that did just what they needed; a living wooden bowl of sorts that, once filled with water, would attract any fairy in a couple mile radius. With that tool in hand, a bottle of water to fill it with, and the jug of potion the trio and Harry set off to Cassandra’s prediction for where the fairies would strike next.

Harry walked with determination, like one who wants to appear like they know where they're going when in fact they don't know where they're going, stopping in a more discrete alleyway away from prying eyes. Whipping out a piece of chalk, he made a five foot wide circle on the concrete. “Okay, so once the bowl does its job, I'll activate the circle, keeping me and the fairies contained, and douse them,” Harry said. “And hopefully it works.”

“What should we do if it doesn't?” Cassandra asked.

“If it doesn't, I'll be trapped with a pack of now angry fairies, which I will try my best to get away from by breaking the circle. But we’ll hope it doesn't come to that,” Harry said, throwing a charming smile at the end. He knelt down next to the bowl in the middle of the circle, holding the water bottle above it. “Here goes nothing.” Once the water filled the bowl, flowers sprouted from the rim, lavender, marigold, honeysuckle and snapdragons. The water itself shimmered like someone dumped in blue food luster dust.

Nothing happened for thirty seconds...or a minute….or even two, but once three minutes passed, a whole bunch of little silver lights zipped to the bowl. Thirty or so foot tall humanoid creatures with various vibrant colored puff balls of hair stood around the edge or lounged in the water, taking in the flowers and chittering amongst themselves. Once they were all within the bounds of the circle, Harry quickly knelt down and touched the chalk, creating an invisible magical wall around himself. A few of the fairies noticed, but most of them were too occupied with the bowl to care. With haste he grabbed the potion jug and thoroughly drenched the fairies, the force of it knocking them all to the ground.

For a moment, nothing happened, then slowly the fairies righted themselves, fluttering their wings to dry them. One in particular, with a mane of magenta colored hair and wearing bottle caps hooked together as a sort of chainmail shirt, sat up and then flew over to Harry.

“Heya Toot, feeling better?” Harry asked.

The little fairy bobbed in flight. “Za-Lord! I feel great! I can think again.” The fairy’s voice sounded like someone did a comical pitch shift up a couple octaves.

Harry frowned. “What happened to you all?”

“There was a Tylwyth Teg that gave us a sweet. They told us it would taste even better than pizza, and it did, but then I couldn’t stop doing things that made me laugh,” Toot explained. The little fairy bowed his head. “Did we do something bad?”

“Well, you were trying your best to make a mess of Chicago,” Harry said. “Nothing that can’t be fixed eventually.”

“Oh, good,” Toot said, flying in a loop in relief.

“Next time, don’t take drugs from fey you don’t know...or any at all.” Harry glanced to the other fairies. “Make sure the rest are themselves, then you’re free to go.”

“Aye!” Toot saluted, then zipped down to the fairies, talking to each one. It took about a minute for Toot to conduct the survey of his personnel before he reported back to Harry. “Everyone’s is back to normal.”

“Good.” Harry scuffed the chalk, dispelling the magic circle. The fairies all stayed, looking expectantly at Toot, who was looking expectantly at Harry. “Be more careful next time, okay?”

“No drugs from strangers, even if they taste better than pizza,” Toot said, and without another word, he zipped off, with the rest of the guard following him.

Harry picked up the wooden bowl, dumping out the water. The flowers fizzled out in a puff of ash, and then the bowl looked just like a plain wooden mixing bowl. “Well that went considerably better than I thought it would,” he said to the LiTs who just watched the whole thing.

“It’s normally more involved on our end too,” Cassandra said. “I feel like we didn’t do a whole lot to solve this case.”

“You did more than you think,” Harry said, handing her the bowl. “It would’ve taken me a couple weeks to have enough ingredients, and then I would have to probably treat them all individually since I didn’t have that fancy bowl. You made my job a whole lot easier...even if you did knock me out and kidnap me.”

Stone ducked his head a little. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“No hard feelings,” Harry replied. He reached into his duster, pulling out a business card. “If you’re ever back in Chicago and need some magical help, just give me a call.” He handed it to Cassandra.

“We don’t have a business card, but if you’re ever in Portland, just knock on Saint John’s bridge,” Ezekiel said. Stone gave him a bit of a concerned look, but Ezekiel waved it off. “I took it upon myself to revamp the security system when we first got there, it’s fine.”

With the job done, the four stood awkwardly in the alley for a few moments. “Is there a way I could get a lift to my place with your fancy teleporting door? It’s a bit of a walk from here.”

Cassandra smiled at him. “I think we can manage that.”

After a quick hop to another street corner five miles away, the LiTs were once again alone in the Annex. It only took twenty seconds of silence and a few looks before Ezekiel scooted closer to Cassandra, giving a tentative kiss, which she intently returned. It certainly took no time at all for Stone to get in on the action too.

If only the phone in the Annex hadn’t started ringing.

“Seriously?!” Ezekiel groaned as Cassandra reluctantly left his embrace to answer it.

“Hello? Hi Jenkins...sure, one back door coming right up.” Cassandra hung up the phone and set the backdoor to the coordinates Jenkins had written down before he left. Within a few seconds the door glowed, and the caretaker entered.

“I see everything is still in order,” Jenkins said, taking off his overcoat and putting it on the rack next to the door.

“We just finished a case too,” Cassandra added. Jenkins looked at the LiTs for more information.

“Fairies on sketchy fey drugs in Chicago,” Ezekiel said, standing quite close to Stone.

Jenkins raised his eyebrows. “Interesting. Did you recover any of the drugs?”

“No, but the fairies are sober now,” Stone answered.

“Unfortunate. I’ll keep an eye on that. Fey substances are nothing to mess around with,” Jenkins said as he walked over to his desk. He pulled out a rather thick looking book and turned pages until he got to the entry he wanted. Jenkins started to grab a nearby pen, but he noticed the LiTs loitering. “Do you need something?”

“Oh, uh, no, we’re fine,” Cassandra said. She glanced to the two with her, then looked back to Jenkins. “You know, I think we’ll head off for the day, since we did close a case. Unless you need us for something…”

It was easy to see the LiTs clearly had somewhere else they wanted to be. “Unless you want to write my entry for Nessie in the magical creatures log, I think I will be quite fine if you retire for the day.”

“Thanks Jenkins,” she said. She hurried up to Jenkins, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek, then the LiTs made a hasty exit, finally ready to have some uninterrupted time to themselves.

-----

Post Notes: So, for those of you who haven’t read any of the Dresden Files, the character they meet is the protagonist from that series. He’s a wizard P. I. in Chicago, and basically Chicago’s de-facto defender from magical threats. For those that have read it, this is set sometime before Blood Rites for convenience of none of the events in Changes and later looming over Harry, and because I forgot to write in Mouse. For those who haven’t, I’ve explained the Sight and the potion he made in the next “chapter” on Ao3 because knowing how Sight works makes what Harry saw have a lot more meaning, and it’s a bit much to have in these notes.

[hotdogjumpingfrog5]

It’s Strange - Chapter 1

Just another cloudy day in the town of Derry, Maine, along with Hawkins, another nearby town. September is back, summer is over, and it’s just the start of another school year. “Oh my god Mike, stop drinking out of the carton, you’re worse than Richie!” Nancy scolds. “Does this look like I care?” Mike sneers “How come you’re so obsessed with me, Nance?” says Richie cockily, “Heard you talking about me.” Nancy rolls her eyes and leaves the kitchen, shortly heading out the door and on her way to Johnathan’s. Why do I have to have twin brothers? They’re a pain in the ass! Nancy thought “Morning, nerd.” Richie said smuggly, grabbing the carton of milk from Mike’s hand. “Hey I wasn’t finished, asshole!” “Mine now, dipshit.” At first their four year old sister, Holly looked at Mike while he took the carton, then her eyes widened again while watching Richie chug it down. “The hell you looking at, pixie?” said Richie “Nerd.” Holly says, after learning a new word. Mike chuckles, Karma for you, bitchy Richie. “Hey don’t be laughing you douchebag!” Richie complains “I’m the older one here, by seven minutes,“ says Mike, "I can do what I like.”

"Don’t need to remind me every fucking time.” That was one of the differences between Mike and Richie, along with each having two different personalities, and different last names. Mike has their dad’s last name, while Richie has their mother’s maiden name. Long story cut short; Karen had made that decision so people wouldn’t mix the two up. Their mom had left for work early, Nancy left for school early, and their dad is out in the living room resting in the La-Z-Boy chair, almost falling asleep again. Awkward silence rings in the kitchen for a bit, neither Mike or Richie saying anything, until Holly comes in with a surprise. “Nerds!” Holly comes in, repeating over and over, obviously referring to the pair of them Holly is saying a lot more than she did before, after learning more vocabulary from pre-school. “Holly, shut up!” Mike lectures Followed by Holly blowing a raspberry, then skipping into the living room. “Richie, why did you have to say that in front of her?” Mike says, annoyed. “Hey, not my fault I’m twins with a nerd.” “Piss off, Richard.”

It was 8 am, and Eleven was woken up by the sound of birds outside, followed by the voice of her father. Well, adopted father. “Jane, you up yet?” he calls out Eleven rubs her eyes, followed by “Yes…dad.” She still wasn’t used to calling anyone dad, even after nine months of living with him. Considering the fact that Jim Hopper was the first to take her under their care without the intent of doing anything sinister. Eleven suffered a bit of post traumatic stress, but she didn’t let that overcome her. She still used her telekinetic powers, but only when it was really important or feels the need to. “Eleven! Eggos are ready!” Hopper calls out, butting in her thoughts. Eleven makes her way out to the kitchen, and sits on the table, across from her adopted father. There was a bit of silence for about half a minute, not the awkward type of silence, but rather, a comforting silence between the two. “So, got a long day, and I would like you to watch the house for a while. Make sure you catch up on your readings.” says Hopper “I will, dad.” says Eleven. Eleven had been homeschooled ever since Hopper took her under his care, he kept her homeschooled so nothing bad would happen. “Dad, when will I go to a real school?” Eleven asks, “I’d like to see Mike and my other friends more.” Hopper sighs, thinking. “I know I was with them over the summer and during the year, but still.” Eleven says “You will, don’t worry.” says Jim, “Just need to make sure everything is in good hands first. I’m sure we’ll get you to school within another year or two, just in time for high school.” “Got it.“ Jim gets up from the table after a few minutes, clearing his throat. “So, I have to get going into town, I should be back around five.” “Bye dad.” says Eleven. “Love you, be good.” Hopper replies, closing the door behind him. Eleven watches as his car pulls out, driving down the country road and out of sight. From where they lived, they lived in a remote cabin about 20-30 minutes away from Hawkins-Derry. Derry and Hawkins were two towns right next to each other, Hawkins being slightly smaller than Derry, with a population of 6,000, whereas Derry had a population of about 30,000. The towns weren’t that big, so you could get over from one town to the other in just a 10-20 minute bike ride, or 5-10 minute drive. She remembers first meeting Mike’s twin brother, Richie, whom she remembered calling a mouth breather. Eleven had also met his friends Eddie, Bill, and the rest of the Losers club. Well, all except for Beverly, but instead Eddie’s twin sister, Ella, who had just become a new member of the losers club in the winter, after Bill asked Eddie if she wanted to join them. Eddie not wanting her to at first, but at the same time, didn’t care, since him and Ella got along better than they did when they were children. Besides, the rest of the Losers were insisting that she join them. Eddie said more than she did, though she was comfortable around them. Ella found herself to fit in a lot better with them than any other girl or peers, which made her apart of the losers club. Ella decided she was going to switch from St. Peter’s Private Academy, to Ninth Street Junior High, the same school her brother and the rest of the Losers went to, and just in time for the final year of junior high, grade nine. Besides, she hasn’t attended public school before, and wanted to give it a go.

Except for Mike Hanlon, who was still being homeschooled, but Eleven remembers him mentioning that he’s thinking about going to public school sometime in high school, and will convince his grandfather somehow.

Eleven looked at Ella, and noticed that Ella and Eddie had many similar features, the only difference was, Ella had blue eyes. They were the exact same height, even though Eddie was three minutes older. But Eddie will probably tower over her in another year or so. “I h-h-hope Beverly comes b-back, she was a good p-p-person.” Eleven remembers Bill saying “Yeah,” said Ben, “She really was.” Ben almost called Beverly pretty, but stopped himself when he remembered that Bill and Bev kissed the day before she left. “I hope we see her sometime.” said Ella “Hopefully.” Eleven grinned. “Oh for crying out loud guys, stop being so fucking serious, last thing I need is a headache from Ella the weirdo and some strange as fuck girl!” Richie rants. Ella gave Richie a punch in the arm. “Ow, what the fuck?” “Mouth breather.” Eleven mutters. Stan and Mike laughed at what Eleven had said. Ella and Eleven exchanged certain glances, and within those few seconds it was obvious that they already liked each other.

“Say that again!” said Mike (Hanlon), still chuckling. “Mouth breather?” Eleven repeated The pair laughed again, along Ben joining in. “We like you already.” said Stan “Don’t mind Richie,” said Mike (Wheeler), “He can be an asshat sometimes.” Although Mike and Richie had separate friend groups, which each went to different schools, the two gangs all got together sometimes, and when they did, they interacted well with each other. A year had passed since they all seen It. The clown. The demogorgon. Words can’t even describe what It was. It was like a shapeshifter of some sort. Attacking two different communities. The two gangs saw a different thing, which scarred them all for a long time, but seemed to forget about It over time. Eleven goes back to reality, finishes her breakfast, and lies down on the couch, opening the book Hopper had given her to read. ~ Nancy goes over to Johnathan’s house, and him and Steve are there waiting. “Come on guys, let’s go!” said Steve. “No wait,” said Johnathan, “We gotta wait for Will, remember?” Steve groans, followed by him calling out to Will to hurry up. “Coming! Can’t you wait two minutes?” said Will The four of them hopped into Johnathan’s car, Johnathan being the driver, Nancy being the front passenger, along with Steve and Will in the backseat. After they drop off Will to his school, the car falls quiet again. Nancy sighs of annoyance, breaking the silence. “What is it?” Johnathan asks “Brothers. They can be such a pain.” Nancy sighs “What happened with Michael and Richard now?” Steve asks “Just them with their usual attitudes, and their bickering.” says Nancy “Yeah, Will can get a bit moody too,” says Johnathan, “But that’s probably from past stress.” “Guys, don’t pay attention to your brothers,” Steve advises, “Boys can be assholes, especially at a young age.”

~

The rain pelted on the windows of the Kaspbrak’s house. Along with the faded paint on the edges of the house, slowly peeling off. Eddie and Ella’s mom, Sonia, often kept plants in the front yard, which hid the fact the house needed to be painted. “Come on Eddie!” Ella yells, “We’re going to miss the bus!” “I’m coming! Hold your damn horses.” Eddie muffles, eating the toast as fast as he could. After a few minutes, the pair are about to head out the door, until - “Eddie. Ella.” says their mom, “Aren’t you guys forgetting something?” They both take a deep breath, knowing their overbearing mother still wants a goodbye kiss, despite them being fourteen next month. After they’ve done that, they try for the door again, and get interrupted a second time. “Not so fast…” Sonia continues, “I got advice for the both of you. Eddie, make sure you keep that bottle of hand sanitizer with you at all times. And Ella, don’t sit on the toilet while on your menstrual cycle, blood attracts germs.” This made Eddie chuckle. Ella gave him a dirty look, and gave Eddie a quick push, rushing him out the door, clearly embarrassed their mother would say that in front of her BROTHER. ~ The new girl walks into Hawkins High School. She transferred there in April, but still hasn’t become accustomed to the place, so Emma was basically still the new girl. Catherine and her adoptive mother and adoptive sister, Lucy, moved back to Derry-Hawkins from England. Emma was still in high school, and Lucy now in college. Lucy was two years older than Emma, and the pair weren’t that close. Lucy had a snobby way about her, probably since her father left her and her mother at a young age. Catherine looked down at her wrist, which read that numbers 007. “Bloody hell, why the heck do you have a number on your wrist?” Lucy would often scoff. Their mom would often tell Emma to ignore Lucy’s comments. But honestly, she just wondered. She wondered the truth. Where she really came from, and why that number was written on her wrist. She never asked about it much, since her mother would always say the same thing, “You were adopted from a local orphanage back in England.” “You’re adoptedddddd” Lucy would tease So asking was pretty much useless, and she didn’t want to put too much worry on her hardworking, single mother. Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a bang on the bathroom stall. “Hey slut, I know you’re in there!” Carol yelled. Tommy standing outside the lady’s room, listening to what Carol and her pose have to say next. “You can hide in there if you want, but that’s not going to hide the fact you slept with hundreds of guys before you moved here from that terrible toothed country, and knocked up this entire town during the summer!” Carol sneered. “Who said I did?” Emma answered back “None of your damn business who did,” said Carol, “But everyone knows about it!” She could hear them snickering in the bathroom. “Let’s get out of here before we catch an STD!” said one of Carol’s minions. Catherine steps out of the bathroom when she knows they’re gone. She steps out of the bathroom, afraid to go any further. Turning around the corner, she already notices the dirty looks she’s getting, along with whispers and snickers echoing throughout the hallway. Catherine runs back in the bathroom, too afraid to face reality. The bell rang for class. “Shit.” she mutters to herself 8:55, five minutes after the first bell had rung, but she was still afraid to move. She stepped out, to see two girls in the bathroom, looking over her way. But not exactly a dirty look this time. “…Hi.” she says, and makes her way out. ~ Within the next week or so, Eleven keeps having strange dreams. Dreams which she’s never had before. Last year she met her sister, Kali. But ever since Eleven had a funny feeling about Kali and her gang, she never heard or seen from them since. Could it have been her sister trying to telecommunicate with her? No, it couldn’t have been. The dreams Eleven have been having were of her mother, Terry. In the dream, was her getting knocked over the head, which seemed to have taken place before her or Kali were born. Eleven often woke up confused, but too afraid to really mention anything, she brushed it off as just “one of those dreams”. ~ It was Thursday, week two of school, and Emma was getting so used to the dirty looks she’s been receiving. 8:57, and she makes her way out of the bathroom stall, bumping into someone. “So sorry!” said Nancy “It’s ok.” Emma muttered Nancy looked at her for a minute. “Have we met before?” she asked. “No.” Emma responded. “I’m Nancy, and you are?” “…Emma.” “Nice name. Where are you from?” “England…I think.” Nancy looked at her with a confused expression. “What do you mean you think?” she asked. Emma shrugged in response. “Seriously, are you okay?” Nancy asked. That’s when she noticed it. Nancy noticed black markings on her wrist, in the form of a number. “Hey, what’s this on your -“ She pulled her arm back quickly “Sorry about that.”

She pauses for a few seconds.

“…Meet me back in here at 12:00 for lunch? We’ll talk later?” Nancy suggests 

“Yeah, sure.” says Emma *three hours later* Nancy paces around the bathroom, waiting for Emma to arrive. Footsteps are heard outside the bathroom, but instead comes in Carol. “If it isn’t bug-eyed Nancy,” Carol sneered, “I hope you had a terrible summer, you dating that psychopath who kidnapped his own brother -“ “He didn’t kidnap him!” Nancy protested. “You’re right,” says Carol, “You and Steve helped too, you did that so you guys could get attention back you lost from when we used to be friends! I still can’t believe you and Steve came near us.” Carol’s posse shrieked with annoying laughter, as Nancy said nothing. The sound of Tommy outside the bathroom could be heard grunting, then fall. Emma walks in. “Leave her alone. Now.” she says sternly. “Says the girl who fucked the entire school. What the hell did you just do to my boyfriend out there?!” Carol shrieks Before she could go any closer, Carol is pushed into the garbage can by an unknown force. Her posse stands there stunned, shocked, unsure of what to do. They run out after Carol screams at them to stop looking at her. “Carol, guys, get out of there, she’s crazy!!!” Tommy yells frantically, "Come on, QUICK!!!!!” They all run down the empty hall, running faster than ever, followed by Carol shooting Emma and Nancy a dirty look before the rear doors closed behind them. The pair of them look at each for a few moments, both of them afraid to speak. “That was…amazing…” Nancy says, breaking the silence. “Thanks…” Emma responds, “Look, what you’re hearing about me…isn’t true. I haven’t even dated anyone yet.”

“I know.” says Nancy, “You don’t seem to be that type, unlike that idiot.”

“Thanks.” She runs to grab a few tissues, her nose all of a sudden became runny. “Hey…you remind me of someone.” Says Nancy “Who?” “Oh, nobody, I’ll explain later.” Nancy and Catherine sit in the bathroom until 12:25, when people make their way back into the corridors. The pair of them go outside, getting to know more about each other.

~

It was now Friday, second week of school. When walking into school, Eddie and Ella made their way over to Bill, Stan, Ben, and Richie, who were laughing at whatever inappropriate joke Richie was saying. “It’s my favourite pair of twins!” Richie said, in a weird accent, which couldn’t be described. “Hi.” Eddie and Ella responded “So g-guys, w-w-we were just disgussing about m-m-meeting up w-with M-Mike and the r-r-rest of them in H-Hawkins s-s-sometime soon m-maybe.” said Bill “Sounds cool.” Says Eddie “Yeah, I really like Dustin especially” Says Richie, “I get to see them more, since Mike is the moodier version of me and we live together.” “H-hopefully Eleven will b-b-be there too n-next time we h-hang out.” said Bill, then looked over at Ella, “I-I mean, I would say y-you’re t-t-tired of h-hanging around us g-g-guys all t-t-t-the t-time.” “I’m never tired of hanging out with any of you.” Ella smiled “You sure?” says Richie, “All we ever do is gross stuff.” Ella laughed, along with Richie licking his hand and attempted to put it near her face. “Ew, get away from me, Richard!” Along with the rest of the Losers snickering at the gross joke he pulled. Richie liked to get on Ella’s nerves the most, considering her being Eddie’s twin sister, but she always brushed it off, since they were friends. “So…how do you like this school?” Ben asks “It’s not too bad, other than that Greta girl in my math class always giving me a dirty looks when she hears my name getting called out.” Ella says “She’s an idiot, don’t mind her.” says Stan. Ella found public school to be a lot better than private school actually, more opportunities, and she didn’t have stupid Kevin calling her out on everything. Kevin was a snobby kid who went to St. Peter’s Private School, whom Ella didn’t like. He always thought he was all that, and found ways to criticize her and many others, as well as get them in trouble. ~ The bell had rang for lunch “Too bad Max isn’t here,” Says Lucas, “It’s a shame she had to switch over to that private school.” “Ooh! Someone misses the love of his life!” Dustin teases. “Shut up.” says Lucas. Mike, being the leader of the group, walks ahead. They make their way over by the benches outside for lunch, Will being quiet as usual. Will stares off into space, whilst Dustin and Lucas still bicker and joke over different things. “Hey, Will, you okay?” Mike asks Will nods his head and assures he’s doing fine. “Hey Will, catch!” Lucas flicks over a tiny figure. A tiny figure from dungeons and dragons. “Thanks!” Will smiles The group continue to chat about different things, including dungeons and dragons. “So Mike, have you heard from Eleven?” Dustin asks “Yeah frog face, how is that freak doing?” The gang spin around, and see the sight of Troy and James lurking over them. “She’s not a freak!” says Mike “Yeah she is” says James “And so are the rest of you,” says Troy, pointing in all directions, “Frog face, midnight, toothless, and zombie boy.” “You tried to kill us!” Dustin protests “Can’t you guys learn to take a joke and toughen up?” says Troy, “That reminds me, where is that lesbian friend of yours? You know, the one who looks like a boy.” Playing with a weapon isn’t a joke, Troy. They all thought. “She’s not a lesbian!” Lucas yells, “And she does NOT look like a boy!” “Don’t forget about the time you guys made me piss my pants.” Troy says to Mike, “Took rest of the year off because your creepy girlfriend broke my fucking arm.” “And made me sit alone in the bathroom every damn lunch.” said James “James, no one cares. Whatever, let’s get away from these creeps.” says Troy Mike, Dustin, Lucas, and Will watch them until they go, then resume their chat. Occasionally, students would walk past them and give them funny looks, ever since Will came back. Every once in a while they would hear the occasional “zombie boy”. From somewhere, or someone. Will tried not to let that get to him, but sometimes he still got offended and worried about it. “Like I said earlier, before we got interrupted by those douchebags,” said Dustin, “Have you heard from Eleven?” Mike tried to think the exact last time he heard from her. Maybe the last week of summer? Two weeks ago? He wasn’t sure. “No,” Mike responds, “She’s being homeschooled for now, but hopefully we get to see her again soon, I really miss her.” “Oh yeah, that reminds me, are we hanging out with your brother and his friends soon or what?” Dustin asks “Yeah, I think so.” Says Mike, “Not sure when yet. Richie can be such a prick sometimes. His friends are obviously more mature.” ~

Next Chapter: Two

[ifishouldvanish]

The Boston Hour (8/?)

In which Belle is an Antiques Roadshow super-fan and Gold is her favorite appraiser.

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Belle and Rumford leave the bar and spend some time alone together. RATING: T WORDS: 7,205 A/N: Hahahahaaaa this took me five billion years to wrap up and edit for no reason. Hopefully I haven’t missed any glaring errors :-)))) You can catch up on TMI's here, if you're into that sort of thing. - [x].

[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Part Five] [Part Six] [Part Seven] [Read on AO3]

Belle was coming down.

Things were becoming less funny, less interesting, and for the last half hour, she’d been quietly listening to the conversation at the table rather than actively participating. Everything seemed to have gotten louder and it was as if all the energy she had been spending on her nerves all day had finally dried up. Me than once, the thought of resting her head on Rumford's shoulder crossed her mind, but sure wasn't feeling as brave now as she was before.

Oh, God.

She’d made a complete fool of herself, hadn't she? Her mind slowly replayed bits and pieces of the evening thus far. There was her comment about him… smelling really sexy. The thing about the mustaches. Her knocking over her glass.

How embarrassing, she thought. There's no way Rumford would want to kiss her now. He probably thought she was a wacko. A wacko whose breath probably also stunk of alcohol.

She frowned at the glass of ice water she'd been nursing. Parched as she was, she was reluctant to drink it all and have to pee again. Rumford had also ordered an appetizer for the table, but it was clear that everyone was waiting for her to eat the lion's share of it.

God, was she really that bad?

She snuck a glance at him then, catching his profile as he listened to Dorothy recount another amusing tale about a customer who had visited her shop a few months ago. He huffed a little laugh and smiled when she reached the punchline of the story, and Belle’s heart skipped a beat. His smiles were beautiful. He actually seemed to be enjoying himself, and what if this could actually be a thing?

“Alright.” Ruby said, grabbing the bottle of beer Dorothy had just finished and sliding it to the center of the table with the others. “You've had more than enough shitty beer, Miss Gale. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're stalling.”

Dorothy snorted. “That's where you're wrong.” She leaned in and lowered her voice. “Because I'm definitely stalling.”

Ruby grinned and closed the small bit of distance left between them. “Dance floor. Now.”

Dorothy quickly turned away, giving herself a chance to wipe the smile off of her face. “You’re serious?”

“You bet your ass I am.” Ruby said, starting to push her out of the booth so she could get out herself. “I'm getting up there and shakin’ my groove thang whether you like it or not.”

“And I support you.” She laughed.

Ruby swat some imaginary detritus off of her bottom and turned to face her. “It would be way more fun if you joined me...” she sang, holding out her hand.

Dorothy looked out at the dance floor and sighed. “Alright.” She said, taking her hand. “You got your dance partner.”

“Yes!” Ruby squealed and bounced on her toes. “What about you? You coming Belles?” She paused and wiggled her brows at Rumford. “...Dr Gold?”

Rumford choked out a weak laugh. For a moment, he just blinked and stared down at the table, rubbing a hand over his mouth. Then he swallowed and cleared his throat. “I ah… I don't think this one's quite up to it.” He said, flashing a polite smile and patting Belle's hand.

Belle shook her head in agreement. She wanted to dance with Rumford, certainly. But the music was all wrong. Covers of nineties party hits? No, no. Their first dance would be slow and romantic and nothing short of magical.

Ruby gave an exaggerated sigh. “Alright, alright– be squares.” She teased.

Dorothy gave Belle and Rumford a look of longing as Ruby lured her out to the dance floor, and they returned apologetic smiles. She stood uncomfortably, off to the side with her arms wrapped around herself, while Ruby did what Belle was pretty sure was a mashed potato. Ruby's smiles were always contagious though, and soon Dorothy was struggling to hold back one of her own. Ruby offered her hands, and Dorothy hesitantly accepted, letting her twirl about her as the band played on.

Belle watched them with a smile, snorting out a laugh when Ruby moved on to doing the Swim, which Dorothy mirrored half-heartedly. She then turned to Rumford, and he flinched as their eyes met.

“Oh. M-miss French–” he stammered, his cheeks flushing pink while he looked away.

“It's okay, I don't mind–” she cut herself off and clapped a hand over her face. I don't you staring at me. True as it may be, it probably wasn't the best thing to say. She slowly peeled her hand off of her face, and there he was again with his warm eyes fixed on her. He had a slight smile on his face, and she couldn't not smile back.

God, he was so handsome.

They were totally having a moment, Belle thought. Staring at each other and smiling? Like something straight out of a movie, for sure. Except if this was a movie, he'd totally be professing his love and pulling her in for a kiss right now. Which he wasn't.

But that was okay, because he was really, really handsome.

Yes. Looking was just fine. With his sharp, pointed nose, warm sable eyes, and cheekbones that had to have been sculpted by the gods themselves. And his hair. It looked so soft and silky, and the way the length of it brushed his shoulders had Belle's fingers practically twitching with the urge to comb through it. Maybe. One day…

He'd show up at the library. She'd be busy shelving or– no no. She'd be in her own office that she'd totally have, and he'd knock on the door frame, asking to come in. Into her office. Oh yes, she could see the engraved plaque on the door now– Belle French, Library Director. Or perhaps even… Belle Gold.

...French-Gold?

Or maybe she'd keep her name and he'd become Rumford French.

Or Gold-French.

No, no. French-Gold sounded much better.

Anyway.

“Oh, Rumford! Come in,” she'd say, surprised to see him, but not like, too surprised. Because he'd totally stop by to see her all the time. Playing coy would just be part of the little game they'd play. “Close the door behind you, please,” she'd tell him, because they'd want privacy for what they were about to do. “What brings you into my office?” She'd ask– but she'd already know.

He'd answer with something cute, like having an overdue book, and she'd come back with an offer to pardon his fees in exchange for a kiss. She'd get up and drape her arms over his shoulders, entwine her fingers through that silken hair– lightly scraping his scalp the way (she imagined) he liked– close her eyes, lean in, and–

“Miss French?”

Belle jolted and blinked, shaking herself out of her trance. “I'm sorry, what?”

Rumford's lips moved, but she couldn't make out what he was saying over the music. She squinted her eyes, as if that might help her hear better. “...What?”

He leaned in a little and spoke up. “Are you feeling any better?”

“Oh!” She nodded. “Yeah!”

“I was–” he scoffed and leaned in further, raising his voice some more, “I was a wee bit concerned earlier.”

“Oh. Yeah.” She closed her eyes and shook her head again. “No, I'm good now. I think.”

“That's good.” He said with a tight-lipped smile.

“...Yeah.” Belle nibbled her lip and continued to gaze into his brown eyes in silence.

Belle Gold. Definitely Belle Gold, Library Director. Married to Rumford Gold, and oh! what a husband he'd (probably) be. Her coworkers would vent to her about their spouses’ subpar hygiene, their casual disinterest in the runnings of the library, their poor taste in matters of aesthetics, their lackluster performance in the bedroom. But never she about her Rumford. No, no. He'd (probably) be like a trophy husband. Always immaculate, witty, and charming. Always supporting her in everything she did. He'd (probably) have flowers delivered to her office ‘just because.’ Stop by with some sort of heirloom necklace from his shop to give her, and when she asked him what the occasion was, he'd (probably) just string it around her neck, kiss her shoulder, and say something like, “the occasion is us, sweetheart.”

She could already feel her loins stirring at the thought.

Definitely, definitely Belle Gold.

They stared dopily at each other for a few more seconds before both cracking and letting out a little chuckle.

Did that count as a moment too? Was it the electricity of all the unbridled sexual tension in the air between them, or were they just being awkward?

Awkward, probably, Belle decided, quickly turning away to watch Ruby and Dorothy on the dance floor again. Now they were doing the Twist. Dorothy was laughing and shaking her head at how ridiculous she still felt, but she seemed to be coming out of her shell nonetheless.

Rumford cleared his throat. “H-have you–”

Belle whipped her head back around, almost pulling a muscle in her neck. “Yes?”

He shyly glanced down at the table. “Well, I just wanted to ask you if– if you'd read any good... books? Recently?” He said, looking back up at her with a slight, lopsided smile.

How could one man be so cute?

Belle took a deep breath and did her best not to smile to broadly. She didn't want to look completely mad. “As a matter of fact… I have...” She answered as calmly as she could.

His grin widened and he shifted a little to face her better. “Well, Miss French– I would ah, love to hear about them.”

And she'd love to talk about them.

There was the one about the woman who gets wrongfully accused of murder, the one about the thief who gets stolen from, the narrative nonfiction about how Michelangelo painted the Sistine Chapel, the one covering the presence of trans people in various parts of the world, and then her favorite romance novel that she'd read for the twenty-third time about a prince in disguise.

He nodded along, making comments and asking questions at the appropriate times. Several times he had to repeat himself so she could hear him over the band playing. Belle went on and on until her throat was sore from raising her voice, and it finally occurred to her that at this point, she'd be enjoying their date a lot more if they were someplace quiet. Someplace more romantic. For kissing. Or just talking.

What would Ruby do? Belle wondered. Of course, drinking and channeling her inner Ruby proved to be ill-advised, but she was basically sober now. Surely it would be worth another try? It was time for an exit maneuver, and if anyone knew how to wrap things up in favor of going someplace more private, it was Ruby. Right?

She cleared her throat and whipped her hair out of her face in a manner she hoped looked flirtatious. Sexy. Enticing. “You um…”  She began to hesitate then, already feeling her heart dropping into her stomach. No, no. Confidence. Commit. “You wanna get outta here?”

That was a thing people said, right?

She was pretty sure someone said it in a movie once, at least.

Rumford furrowed his brows and leaned in closely. “What was that?”

Oh God. Now she was going to have to say it again?

She hesitated and tried to think of a less embarrassing way to phrase it, but drew a blank.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” She repeated as loudly as she could without yelling.

He pulled back to look at her, brows raised, and gave a little nod. His lips moved, but she couldn't hear him.

She leaned in and tried not to indulge herself in the heady scent of his cologne too much. Failed. Musky, but citrusy. Sandalwood? Would it be creepy to ask him what it was? Maybe Sephora carried it and she could request a sample.

She clenched her eyes shut. Focus, Belle. “Um. ...What?”

He chuckled and leaned into her ear. “I'd like that.”

She practically squirmed at the sensation of his breath landing on her neck. Good grief . What else might he like? If she asked him to repeat himself again, would he get even closer?

She shook the thought away and let out an awkward chuckle. “...Me too.”

His eyes drifted over to the dance floor, then back to the table. “Ah… When do you think you might like to–”

“We can go now.” She blurted. She wanted to leave, he wanted to leave. They should leave.

Rumford blinked. “...Oh.” He shifted in his seat and pulled out his wallet, grabbing a wad of bills and tucking them under one of the empty glasses. “Well then ah… whenever you're ready.”

Leaving the bar with Dr Rumford Gold?

She was born ready.

Belle looked for Ruby as they made their way toward the exit, and her friend's face lit up when their eyes met. She mouthed what Belle assumed was a, “you go girl!” and winked, making a shooing gesture at the two of them.

Belle rolled her eyes and laughed as she and Rumford slipped out the door. A wave of relief washed over her as they stepped out onto the much quieter street, and judging by the way Rumford's shoulders relaxed, he must have felt the same way.

Street lights and storefronts illuminated the sidewalks, which had their share of slow but steady foot traffic consisting of couples and other small groups. A few cars whirred by, drowning out the soft music coming from a street performer further down the block. It was warm, but with a cool and gentle breeze– which was perfect, Belle thought. Maybe, if she was lucky enough, she’d get cold and Rumford would offer her his jacket. Though she supposed it was comfortable enough that she could pretend to be cold, and in the event that he did offer her his jacket, she could still wear it without completely sweating to death for the remainder of the evening.

Ideal conditions, really.

He was studying the menu in the window of a neighboring restaurant, his hands deep in his pockets. She stepped beside him, bumping into him when another person brushed past her to get inside. The movement grabbed Rumford’s attention, and he braced her arm to keep her steady.

“Sorry,” she said. “It was just um, getting really loud in there?”

He returned an apologetic smile and step aside so they weren’t so close to the door. “Agreed.”

Belle nibbled her lip, trying not to let her eyes wander down his neck and to the Windsor knot nested at the base of his throat. The last thing she needed to think about right now was loosening his tie for him. And undoing a button or two on his shirt. Would his chest be hairy? Or would he be smooth?

If she were a betting woman, her money would be on smooth.

“So.” She began, trying to steer her thoughts away from what he might look like naked.

“So…” He was smoothing out his tie, but seemed to catch himself and stopped. “Where would you like to…”

“You know… I um, I think there's supposed to be a park around the block from here?” She hedged, shifting on her feet. “Maybe we could um…”

“Aye, definitely. I know it.” He said. “But ah, you should probably let your friend know where we're headed?”

“...Yes.” Belle smiled and pointed a finger at him, then plunged her hand into her purse to grab her phone. “Yeah, totally. Good idea.”

“I've been known to have those from time to time.” He joked.

She snorted and tapped a quick message to Ruby. “And… Done!” She said, dropping her phone back into her bag and clutching the strap tightly.

Rumford's eyes bored into hers for a stretch that was beginning to border on uncomfortable before suddenly darting to the death grip she had on her purse instead. He took a deep breath and let out a little scoff, then offered her his arm. “M-miss French?”

Belle nibbled her lip and hesitated a moment. This was it. This was her time. This was her moment. A romantic evening stroll with Rumford Gold.

She slowly locked her trembling arm with his, and then her eyes. “Okay.”

“...Okay.” He said breathlessly, staring down at their joined arms with a lopsided smile.

God, how she just wanted to reach up on her toes and kiss him senseless already. “Well, then I guess uh, let's go.”

“Yes. Yes, of course,” he said with a blush, and the two of them finally fell in step together. They made it halfway down the block before Belle suddenly become aware of the silence between them. Should she say something? Make conversation?

She should probably definitely say something.

“I'm… I'm really sorry.” She mumbled, looking at her feet. “For um, back there. If I made you uncomfortable.”

Yes. Clear the air with an apology. For practically eating him alive earlier. A good, natural place to start.

“Well,” he glanced away and chuckled. “I admit I ah, hadn't been quite prepared for that, but… but it's fine, please don't feel–”

“Just, you know. It would have made me uncomfortable, is all.”

He shrugged and cleared his throat. “Aye, well… apology accepted, I suppose.”

They fell silent again, and with her apology out of the way, Belle was eager to change to subject to something– literally, anything– other than what a touchy drunk she was. “So… How did you um, how did you get into antiques? Is it a family thing? Or…”

“Oh–” he shook his head. “No, no. Well– I mean... i-in a way?”

Belle looked at him with a knowing smile. “Sounds like a long story.”

“Aye.” He chuckled. “I suppose it is.”

“I'd love to hear it, if you wouldn't mind telling it.”

Rumford looked at her hesitantly, his lips pressed tightly together. “The thing is, I ah, never knew my mother.” He began, fixing his eyes on the ground. “And my father was… well, not a good man. Spent all his time at the pub, gambling his wages away, and if not that, he was spending the night in jail. When I was eight years old, he dropped me off at our neighbor's and never came back for me. Haven't seen him since.”

“O–.” Belle coughed and pulled away from him, looking at the ground and letting her hair fall in her face. “I am so sorry, I didn't realize– you don't have to–”

“No, no, no, no!” Rumford rushed to assure her, cupping his hand over hers. “I-it's no bother.”

Belle looked back up at him tentatively, not quite meeting his eyes.

“You see... they were the ones who really raised me,” he said. He brushed her hair out of her face and she parted her lips.

She wet them then, and they stuck together slightly. She should have drank more water.

“Edith and Ainsley.” He continued. “Lovely couple. They were seamstresses by trade, but they did it all, really. Sewing, drawing and painting, pottery, you name it. I suppose you could say they were ah...  hoarders.” He admitted with a chuckle.

Belle finally relaxed when she saw the fond smile blooming across his face. He loved his artsy crafty adoptive lesbian hoarder moms. Choosing for the moment to ignore his use of the past tense, she just smiled back at him, waiting for him to continue.

“I always liked staying at their house while my da was out because it was filled with all kinds of art and these unique things they'd collected over the years. I was always so fascinated by them all– curious, ye know? But I always had to remind myself to sit on my hands, because my father…” he trailed off and cleared his throat. “Anyway, one afternoon they saw me eyeing this old spinning wheel of theirs. Huge, magnificent thing, it was. And they told me– what it was, what it did, how old, how it'd come into their possession. Showed me how to use it. I suppose you could say that’s what started it.”

“Your first appearance on the show,” Belle recalled. “You looked at a spinning wheel.”

He scoffed and raised a brow at her. “You remember that? That was right around a decade ago!”

“Mhmm!” Belle laughed. “I watched that episode with my mom when it first aired!”

“Gods,” he hiked his brows and looked off into the distance. “That's embarrassing.”

“No…” she said. “You were wonderful. And the way you spoke about it, I could see how passionate you were.” She hesitated and have him a sidelong look. “I've uh, had a crush on you ever since.”

Rumford swallowed. “Oh.”

“But go on...” She said, nudging his shoulder and letting her hand wander from his elbow to his wrist. “It's a good story.”

He hesitated before smiling and accepting her offered hand, and she gave him a little squeeze. Whether she meant it as an encouraging gesture or if it only served to confirm that he was actually there, she couldn’t say.

“Well... Every day after that, I'd pick something out from one of their shelves and I'd ask them, ‘What's that one? Auntie Edith, can ye tell me about that one there?’ And so they'd take it down and let me touch– ‘be careful now,’ ye know?” He chuckled. “...And then they'd tell me everything they knew. It was amazing, really, that they could remember the histories of these things in such vivid detail.”

“I mean, have you watched yourself on the show?” Belle teased.

“Not at all, recently.” He admitted with a shrug.

“Well,” she laced her fingers with his and smiled. “You never fail to amaze me.”

He stopped walking and turned to face her with a curious look, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards into a smile that made Belle's insides squirm in the most pleasant way possible.

Was this it? She wondered. Was she going to finally kiss Rumford Gold? Right here? Right now? She poked her tongue out and swept it along her bottom lip, but his eyes didn't follow. His brown lingered on her blue, but then suddenly caught onto something else.

“Change?”

Belle flinched and spun around, startled by the unfamiliar voice.

It belonged to an older man who wore an unkempt beard and a warm jacket despite the weather. “Spare any change, sir? Miss?”

“O-oh.” She blinked and shook her head, reaching into her purse. Surely she had something.

“I-I’ve no change,” Rumford stammered, “but ah... u-up here,” he said, nodding at a food truck up ahead. “Let me get you something.”

“Oh, that would be very generous, sir,” the man said.

“I-It's no bother.” Rumford said, taking Belle's hand.

They started toward the truck, and the man fell in step with them, mumbling further expressions of gratitude. They quietly stood in line, the three of them all eyeing the menu on the side of the truck.

“You been keeping dry?” Rumford asked. “I only flew in yesterday, but I heard there was a good bit of rain during the week.”

“Yeah. Me and a couple guys have a good spot a few blocks over.”

“That's good.”

“You know, the shelters, they fill up quick.”

“Aye. Aye, I bet.”

“I got some work with a buddy of mine, but it's across town. By the time I get off there, and the time it takes to get to St Matthew’s...” He trailed off.

“How far is it?” Belle asked.

“It’s an hour walk, so you know…”

“There aren't any places closer that that? That’s terrible.”

Rumford stepped forward and cleared his throat. “What would you like?” He asked quietly.

“Uh… a Coke, please.”

“One Coke.” He parroted to the vendor and turned to Belle. “And you? Anything?”

“Hm...” She nibbled her lip and scanned the menu on the side of the truck for a moment. “Oh! A churro would be lovely, thank you.”

“Ah, those are good.” The old man chuckled as the vendor handed Belle her treat.

“Here–” she tore a piece off of the top of her churro and offered it to him.

He threw a hand up. “Oh, no. You enjoy.”

Belle narrowed her eyes at him for a moment. “Well, alright. I won't twist your arm.” She smiled, popping it into her mouth.

“Your Coke.” Rumford chimed in, handing him the chilled red can.

“Thank you so much. God bless you both.” The man said with a little bow before starting down the sidewalk.

“Wait!” Belle busted after him, juggling her churro as she dug through her purse. “It's not much, but…” she shrugged and dropped a assortment of coins into his hand.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“Stay safe.” Belle said, bidding the man goodnight and returning to where Rumford was waiting by the truck.

“All set?” He asked.

“Mhmm.” She nodded, locking her arm with his again and starting down the sidewalk. “Thank you for the snack.”

“Of course.”

“You wanna piece?”

“Oh, no thank you.” He said softly.

“Hmm… okay.” She shrugged, sucking the cinnamon sugar off of her fingers before going in for another bite.

The park turned out to be just around the corner, and they were able to find a vacant bench not far from a lamp post without too much searching. Belle settled on one end, and Rumford sat opposite her, leaving more space between them than she cared for. She quickly scoot closer.

“This is nice.” She said, smiling at him. “I'm um, I'm having a nice time. With you.”

“That's good.” He nodded, the corner of his mouth briefly tugging towards into another lopsided grin. He bounced his leg a few times, but quickly stopped. “I'm glad.”

Belle took another bite out of her churro, buying herself a moment as she licked the sugar from her lips. He seemed to be getting tense again, and she wondered what else they could talk about.

“Your uh, your aunties sound like lovely people,” she went with. “I might go so far as to say that they did a wonderful job of raising such a gentleman.” She murmured.

“Oh.” Rumford blushed, looking down at his lap and toying with his cufflinks.

“Did they have any other kids they took in? You know, that are like siblings to you?”

“Oh,” he scoffed, “no, no. It was just me, growing up.”

“So no other family at all?” Belle pouted her lips and stared off across the park. “That must be lonely.”

“Well, I-I I do have a son.” He said, looking back up at her.

“Oh.” She said, nibbling her lip and staring down at her feet. Of course he had a son. And he said he hadn't been out with a woman in a long time. What if he’s still in love with his ex and only agreed to come out on this date to be polite and–

“His mother and I… we ah, separated when he was a boy.”

“I'm sorry.”

“No. No, no. I-it's fine. It's… water under the bridge, really.”

Belle let out a sigh of relief she hoped wasn’t as audible to him as it was to her.  “How um… How old is he?”

“Seventeen.” He said, finally easing comfortably against the bench with a slight smile. “His name’s Neal.”

“And he lives with you?”

He nodded. “For most of the year. He takes his summers in Liverpool to be with his mum, but ah… he’ll be going off to college in the fall.”

“Oh really?” She asked. “Where?”

“Rhode Island School of Design.”

“Wow.” She blinked. “You know they've been ranked the third best school for art and design by– by um…” she smacked her lips and tapped a finger in the air as she struggled to recall the publication.

“Aye,” he chuckled. “I'm sure I read that in one of the brochures at some point.”

Belle dropped her hand and slouched her shoulders, taking the opportunity to nestle a little closer to him. “He must be very talented.”

“Aye ah… he is. Always was. Artistic, I mean. Creative. Certainly didn't get it from me, though.” He chuckled.

“You must be really proud of him.”

He grinned widely at that, and Belle felt weightless for an instant. “I am.”

“What kind of art does he do? What’s he majoring in?”

“It’s been photography most recently. But ah, he's majoring in graphic design. Likes… bring it all together, you now?”

“Mhm.” She nodded and bit off another piece of her churro, the parchment paper around it crinkling a bit. “You miss him already, don't you?”

He raised a brow at her, and she realized she still had a mouthful of churro.

“Oh–” she covered her mouth. “Sorry.”

“You're fine. Just–” He chuckled and reached a hand over, brushing a piece of sugar from her cheek with his thumb.

She finished chewing and swallowed hard, staring back at him. Took a deep breath. He just touched you, Belle. Rumford Gold touched you. On the face. Again.

He dusted the crumb off on his pant leg and sighed. “It's just… I always imagined when he was a boy, that he'd grow up to be like his Papa, you know? That the shop could become… a family business. Father and son. But…” he trailed off and gave a half shrug.

“Well,” Belle shrugged. “Whatever makes him happy, right?”

“Aye.” He smiled. “Precisely.”

“I'm sure he’s gonna miss you too.”

“I'm not quite so sure.” Rumford scoffed. “Boy can hardly wait to get out of the house.”

“Oh, come on!” Belle laughed, giving his shoulder a light shove. “He's just excited! I would have loved to have gone away for college!”

He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head at her. “Why didn't you?”

Belle frowned. “My dad.” She sighed. “He um, had a heart attack my senior year of high school. I wanted to stay close to him after that, you know?”

He nodded. “Certainly.”

“He just– it's been hard on him. Since mom–” she cut herself off. Don't start talking about your dead mom, Belle.

“I... understand.” He slid a hand over hers, and the damned parchment crinkled again.

“So… you guys are going to Richmond next?”

He pulled his hand away and nodded. “Aye.”

Belle shrugged. “I've never been.”

“Well,” he chuckled, “if it's any consolation, I've never really experienced much of it myself. Most of the places we visit just sort of blur together, you know?”

“How does that work, anyway?” She asked. “Do you stay in each city and go straight to the next, or do you go back home in between?”

He scowled and hiked his brows. “Stay at a hotel for weeks–months at a time?” He scoffed. “No thank you, Miss French. I'll be flying back home tomorrow night.”

“Oh.” Belle’s heart sank in her chest at the reminder of the geographical distance between them. She knew he lived in Syracuse, but she just didn't want their time together to end. It was a blissful dream she never wanted to wake from. She took another bite, giving herself a moment to think of what else to say as she chewed.

Oh. Oh, of course.

She swallowed and smacked her lips. “Do you um… have any plans tomorrow morning? Before you leave?”

He bobbed his head from side to side for a moment. “There's a flea market on the other side of town that I like.” He said. “I always try to visit when I'm in the area.”

“Oh, that's cool.” She mumbled around another mouthful of her food.

He huffed out a little laugh. “I'm sort of... friends with one of the vendors there.”

“Really?” She asked, quickly throwing her hand over her mouth again.

“Oh, yes.” He laughed. “Strange fellow. Always has such beautiful pieces, though– I get a lot of my inventory from him. He ah… drives a hard bargain, but I haven't let him get the better of me yet.” He winked.

Belle swallowed and nibbled on her lip. “Maybe– maybe I could join you? If you um, if you wouldn't mind…”

He gave her a sidelong look. “So you can study my negotiation tactics?” He teased.

“Well, now that you mention it…” she giggled, “I wouldn't mind watching you haggle a price on an antique vase or something. ...I think it could be highly educational.” She added, lifting her chin.

He tilted his head and furrowed his brows. “I… I'd like that.”

Belle smiled so widely her cheeks began to feel sore. She turned away for a moment to collect herself. “Okay then,” she said, looking back at him with another, hopefully much less deranged-looking, smile. “It's a date then?”

“Aye.” He nodded. “I… suppose it is.”

She bit down on her lips to keep her crazed smile from returning. She'd just made plans! To see him! Rumford! Again! Tomorrow!

They were staring at each other again, and Belle took a deep breath. Was this it? Was this the part where they kissed?

No, no. She needed a line. To bat her lashes and say something like, I can't wait. Lick her lips and murmur a seductive, should be fun.

The bunched up parchment paper crinkled in her grip again and she froze. She had to finish this stupid thing and throw it out already. It would ruin the kiss if she was preoccupied with holding it, nevermind the obnoxious sounds it could make. No, no. The churro had to go.

She looked down at her lap and eyed what was left of it. Two or three bites. One, if she really committed herself. Or would that be… unbecoming of her? She sighed and tore it into two pieces, popping one of them into her mouth and closing her eyes.

God damn, it was so good.

She opened her eyes to find Rumford still staring at her and stopped chewing.

“Good?” He asked with a little smirk.

She nodded. “So good,” she said, her voice muffled again.

Dammit, Belle. Stop talking with food in your mouth.

She continued chewing slowly, as if she could hide the fact that she was chewing at all, and swallowed. “It's good.”

He just smiled back without a word.

Well there goes your moment, Belle. You've ruined it. No kiss.

“Um…” she wet her lips and glanced down the last piece with reluctance. “Sure you don't wanna bite? Because it's um… it's good.”

He hesitated and let out a scoff. “I suppose I can't argue with such a ringing endorsement as that, now can I?”

How was he so charming? She was a walking disaster and yet here he was, smiling and… being cute. Pretending not to notice how weird she was. What a saint.

“No,” Belle laughed. “You can't.”

She shifted on the bench and by the time she realized what the hell she was doing, Rumford was already opening his mouth so she could feed him.

Oh yes. She was painfully aware of the situation as she popped the last piece into his mouth. The way his lips closed around it, brushing against the tip of her finger as she pulled away.

He closed his eyes and let out a soft hum as he chewed, and Belle really needed to stop looking at his mouth. Or the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed.

Lord have mercy.

He looked at her and wet his lips. “You're right. That is good.”

Belle blinked owlishly at him. This wasn't real. Couldn't be. She was dreaming. It probably wasn't even Saturday. This entire day had been a hallucination. It was the only logical explanation.

“Miss French?”

She blinked and raised her brows expectantly.

“It's getting late.” He said. “When do you think you'd like to head back?”

“Oh. Uh… now? Now is good.” He could walk her back to her hotel. That would be her next and last chance for a kiss, wouldn't it? Saying goodnight? “I mean– whatever you wanna do.” She blurted. “I'm up for whatever, you know?”

Especially kissing you. That was on the top of the list of things she was up for.

“Well, I... I wouldn't want to keep you up late.” He said, starting to get up.

Belle barked out an awkward laugh. Sweet, naive, beautiful man. She would be more than happy to have him keep her up all night long. “...Yeah.” She coughed. “You're right.”

“Here–” he said, gesturing at the finally empty parchment paper in her lap. “Let me get that for you.”

He tossed it in a nearby bin and helped her up. They did a lap around the park, arm in arm, while he told her about some of the things he’s found at the flea market over the years, and his favorite sorts of items to carry in his shop. While they headed back to her hotel, the topic of conversation drifted back to flea markets, and which cities had best (or worst) shops. Belle countered with her list of grievances against the way the library in Storybrooke was being run, and all the things she would make to change if she was in charge. She started walking more slowly as they approached the hotel, but soon it was time to stop completely.

“Well uh, this is where I’m staying.” Belle mumbled.

He stopped walking and frowned. “Oh.”

“Thanks for um, coming out tonight.” She said, shifting on her feet.

“Aye.” He nodded. “Thank you. For ah, inviting me.”

“I had a really good time.”

He was trying not to smile, but the tightly rounded apples of his cheeks gave him away. “Me too.”

She stared at his mouth and wet her lips. This had to be the part where they kissed, right? Any second now, he was gonna put his mouth on her? Would it be gentle and soft? Or might he surprise her with something more ravaging? Would she even be able to handle that? This was Dr Rumford Gold, after all. The cultured and sexy silver fox who occupied many a late night fantasy. Good God– would she faint?

“I'll ah… Pick you up?” He asked, pulling her out of her thoughts. “Tomorrow morning? Around ten? For the um, flea market?”

“...Oh!” She chuckled. “Yeah! That sounds perfect. I can't wait to do you.”

His eyes went wide as saucers. “Pardon?”

Oh. Oh. “Did I say–?” She laughed. “No, no. I mean I can't wait to do that . With you. As in going to the flea market. Not…” she trailed off and cleared her throat. “...Yeah.”

His lips rounded into an oh and he nodded slowly. “I… believe I understand.”

“Yeah. So um… goodnight, I guess?”

“Aye,” he said. “Goodnight, Miss French.”

“Belle.” She corrected him.

He smiled, and under the light from the street lamp above them, she could see that he was blushing. “...Belle.”

“Goodnight, Mr Gold.”

“Oh, please.” He chuckled softly and gently tugged on her hand, beginning to rub his thumb back and forth over her knuckles. “...Call me Rumford.”

Belle chewed her lip in lieu of smiling. “...Rumford.” She watched him wet his lips and she  could feel her insides practically vibrating with anticipation. Kiss, kiss, kiss! Let me suck your stupid, perfect face!

He held her hand up and brushed his thumb across her knuckles again. Then she watched, utterly transfixed, as he dipped down and pressed a kiss to her hand. He closed his eyes and let his lips linger there a moment before slowly– she might dare say reluctantly– pulling away. He glanced up at her, the corner of his mouth curled into a lopsided little smile.

“It's been a pleasure,” he said softly. “Belle.”

She gaped at him as he stood upright again, her mouth hanging open.

He just bowed and kissed her on the hand? How dare he? How dare he just transport her into a God damned Jane Austen novel like this?

“Uh…”

He furrowed his brows and tilted his head, taking a half step closer. “Belle?”

She shook her head. “Yes?”

“You're alright?”

“Oh. Yeah.” She laughed. “Oh, I'm fantastic. You're fantastic.”

“Oh. Well, I'll see you tomorrow, then.” He said.

“Yes.”

“I… I look forward to it.” He said, rubbing his free hand over the back of his neck. “Very much.”

She nibbled her lip. “Me too.”

“Goodnight, Belle.”

“Goodnight, Mr– Rumford.”

It was definitely time to let go of his hand. Belle knew that much. But she seemed to have this irrational fear that once she did, he would turn to dust and disappear from her life forever. That she'd wake up from the dream.

“I'm um, I'm gonna go in now.” She said.

He nodded. “Right.”

“So um…” She slowly released her grip on his hand and clutched the strap of her purse– because she needed to hold onto something. “Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

“I'm gonna–” she pointed a thumb over her shoulder at the the hotel.

“Of course.”

She took a step backwards toward the doors, still not ready to take her eyes off of him. “Bye.” She said with a little wave.

He nodded and waved back.

She took another step back, missing the crack in the sidewalk and stumbling. Rumford leapt forward to catch her, but she managed to find her balance herself.

“Haha… whoa...” She chuckled, hoping to God that she wasn't turning beet red.

“Alright?” He asked.

“Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine.” She said. “Happens all the time.”

It did not happen all the time.

“Oh.” He said, furrowing his brows. “Well ah, perhaps tomorrow... you might want to um, wear something… flatter?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “Def–definitely. Good idea.”

“Just it's um… A lot of walking. And partially outdoors, with ah... dirt.”

“Right?” She said in agreement, despite the fact that she'd never been to the place before and has no idea what it was like.

“I just see those are suede, is all.” He said, gesturing at her feet and blushing. “I'd ah, hate for them to get ruined.”

He noticed her shoes!

“Yeah, me too.” She snorted. “They cost me like, a whole rent payment, so you know.”

He looked back down at her feet and let out a little chuckle, hiking his brows. “Well. I won't keep you any longer.” He said. “You ought to get some sleep.”

“Yeah. You too.”

“Goodnight, Belle.”

She bit down on her lip in hesitation, then inched closer so she could give him a peck on the cheek. “Goodnight, Rumford.” She said as she pulled away, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear with a trembling hand.

He was trying not to smile again. “G-goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” She took another, much more careful, step backwards. “I'm um… I'm gonna go then. For real now.”

“Aye.” He nodded. “Goodnight.”

She backed up against the front door and waved again. “Goodnight.”

Good God, she realized. Ruby was right.

She shook her head and quickly slipped through the door, managing to take three steps into the lobby before spinning around and waving at him again.

He waved back and then– then– she allowed herself to disappear down the hall to the elevators.

[ferretfyre]

The Last Bunny of Krypton - Chapter 7

Title: The Last Bunny of Krypton - Chapter 7

Rating: G

AO3 Link

Word Count: 4528

Author’s Note: I can’t believe this story hasn’t updated since April. My utmost apologies, but my gosh inspiration was a fickle muse these past three months. Hopefully though, the blood, sweat and tears were worth it, and this chapter manages to satisfy you all. Once more, endless and profuse thanks to iowaforever, @bluelightningbug and @brideshead, all of whom have contributed greatly to this chapter, and without it, I don’t think I would have been able to finish it. You guys all rock. The scene with Judy and her mother is inspired by John Byrne’s 1986 six issue mini-series The Man of Steel, which has been a massive influence on the tone I’m trying to go for with this story. Hopefully it works. I will admit, these past seven chapters have been expressly designed to better feel out how to approach Judy in this situation, since, as much as I’m tempted to just pour her into Superman’s uniform, I also understand that she is a character all her own, with her own personality, and I want to be faithful to her personality and philosophy, and how that might shift if she had Superman’s abilities. I guess it’s a more psychological take on things then even I expected, but what use is a story if the characters aren’t fully realized and sketched out?

Anyways, enjoy it below.

The ebbing wail of a police siren caught Judy’s ear, and she glanced briefly towards the window of Lana’s apartment. She was only greeted with the glow of the street lamps, and the scattered lights from apartments in the building across the street.

She looked up at the clock on the wall.

It was 3:15 in the morning.

Guess I’m not the only one who can’t sleep, she thought, letting out a sigh and taking another sip of her warm, sugar-soaked milk. She closed her eyes, paw tiredly rubbing her eyelids.

She’d thought that she’d sleep well after confessing her frustration to Lana. It had felt good to get that sense of anxiety out into the open, to know that what she’d done back at the café was a good thing. To a certain extent, maybe she was being naive. Expecting everything would just tumble neatly into place, would magically click together.

Guess not.

Another police siren went peeling by, and Judy remembered why she couldn’t sleep. Back when she’d first come to the city, it’d all seemed so pristine, so wonderful. But then nighttime had come. Back in Bunnyburrow, even with her super hearing, Judy had always appreciated the quietness. At most, you’d get the chirping of crickets, or the hoot of an owl. Other than that, the nights were peaceful and relaxed. Zootopia was a whole other story.

In Zootopia, the nights were noisy. And none of the sounds Judy noticed tended to be pleasant ones. There’d be someone shouting angrily at someone else in the apartment on the floor above them, followed by someone quietly crying. There’d be the near continual parade of police cars, racing by as their sirens screaming, radios a hectic chatter. There’d be strange, hard-to-place noises: creaks, groans, moans, rumbles. The shattering metallic clatter of the elevated train racing by. Maybe even the distant, sharp crack of a gun going off.

At night, the city sounded sick.

Judy’s shoulders sagged, and she let her face fall into her paws. There really wasn’t anything in the entire city that wasn’t broken in some way or another. And here she was, just one person stuck in the quagmire with no way to get out.

Then again, the trains back to Bunnyborrow were always there. It wouldn’t be too difficult to hop on one and forget this ever happened, maybe just be a carrot farmer like Mom and Dad wanted. Away from Zootopia, away from the brokenness and sickness, back to somewhere safe.

And then what? She’d just go home? Go back to the farm? What good would that do? It’s not like her leaving would change anything back here. And let’s face it, you’re just running away from the problem. Judy was never one to abandon somebody. Heck, all those times back in Bunnyburrow, she could have easily just kept walking. But no, every time, like someone yanking on a chain, she’d felt it. That need to help. It was like a compulsion. It didn’t matter the situation. She’d be in the middle of something, and she’d hear it. The yelp of fear, or someone screaming “HELP!” at the top of her lungs. And then, the next thing she knew, she’d sped her way half way across Bunnyburrow, ripping the door of a car, dragging somebody out of the water, or out of a burning house.

That was only small “heroics” though. Zootopia wouldn’t bother with that. The problems here? They were like grime, something that had dug itself in like… like a tick. And nobody was doing anything about it. Somebody had to do something. Had to.. To take a stand. To.. to at least try to clean it up. Try and fix it.

Or… perhaps go one step further. She felt a sudden flash of a memory go rushing through her mind.

Live a life that speaks of nobility. Of kindness.

“I… I can do more.” Judy mumbled, her eyes widening slightly. She sat up in her chair, a slow steady dawning coming over her. “I can do more… so much more! I mean, yeah, I got my powers, my abilities… but what does that mean at the end of the day?”

Another flash of memory.

I felt… inspired.

Judy’s eyes looked around the apartment, her eyes catching on the calendar on the kitchen wall. On it was printed, in bright, sunny colors, a painting of Zootopia. Above the city, in big, gold text, where the words “Zootopia: Where anybody can be anything!”

Lightbulb!

She slapped her paw against the table. Everything had clicked. Yes, the real Zootopia turned out to be sick–but the Zootopia on that poster? The one she’d always dreamed of? Had always hoped to see? It didn’t just represent the city… but an ideal to strive for. All that was needed was a spark… something dramatic–striking–to shake everybody out of apathy… to show that they could be more.

“And I’m gonna be that symbol! I’m gonna show Zootopia that we can do anything… be anything… that any mammal can get up, get out there… make a difference!”

Judy was so filled with new energy, that she barely noticed that she was now hovering about a foot off the floor. When she did, she did not care.

“I can do this… I can do anything!”

“That’s… like… cool I guess,” Came a voice, and Judy turned to the doorway, eyes widening as she noticed a very exhausted looking Lana standing in the doorway, rubbing her eyes.

“Oh… hey Lana,” she smiled sheepishly, floating down to the floor and rubbing the back of her neck. “I guess I didn’t see you there.”

Lana nodded sluggishly, before tilting her head slightly. “So what? Did you find your purpose or something?”

Judy shrugged slightly. “I guess, sort of yeah.” she sat back down in the chair.

Lana’s eyebrow rose. “You gonna tell me?”

Judy blinked, before clearing her throat. “Well, I was thinking, about what happened yesterday, and how Zootopia really is. Like, it’s not what I thought it would be at all. I know, it sounds sorta dumb, but I guess I expected this place to be like Mickeyland or something–ya know, magic kingdom and all that–but it’s not. It’s dirty..and noisy… there’s lots of crime, and nobody doing anything about it… but then I realized, it doesn’t have to be. It–It can be more than that! When I was a kit, I always saw it as this fancy shiny city on a hill and I think–or I hope, I don’t know–that I’m the one who’s gonna make that dream come true.”

Lana blinked, her expression hard to read. “Well,” she began, shuffling over to one of the chairs and sitting down. “This mean you’re finally gonna be a superhero?”

Judy shrugged. “I guess so, yeah.”

Lana smiled. “Freakin’ finally.” She let out a smug chuckle, face visibly brightening. “You know what this means, right?”

Judy shook her head. “Um… no, but…” She looked over at the quickly spreading grin on Lana’s face with concern. “I got a feeling you know?”

Lana nodded. “Oh yeah… we’re making you a costume,” she clapped her hoof on the tabletop, before popping out of her chair in a flurry of unexpected energy. “A nice, badass costume for a badass bunny!”

Judy stammered, “Wait, but I thought you were exhausted?”

Lana scoffed. “Well I’m not any more! The gears are movin’, Judy, the gears are movin’, and I sure as heck letting this opportunity slide! It isn’t everyday you’re best friend decides to be a superhero, so I’m sure as cotton gonna make sure she looks as awesometacular as possible!”

“That’s not even a word…”

“It is now!”

Two Weeks Later

Judy peered out from behind her perch on a nearby ledge, smiling giddily as the ten year old elephant excitedly tried to explain to her intensely relieved mother how she was caught from falling by, as she explained “A magical angel!”

This was why she chose to do this. The looks of relief, the happy smiles. To her, it was worth more than gold. She watched as the mother took her daughter inside, hugging her tightly, even as her daughter continued to happily gaggle on about Judy.

Judy took in a deep breath, letting herself begin to hover again, as she took in the beautiful autumn day. The air was crisp, the skies clear, and the birds seemed to be quite happy as well, chirping and singing, as Judy floated up. The buoyant, fluttering feeling in Judy’s chest seemed to grow stronger the higher she flew, as she felt that quintessentially unique feeling of bracing freedom that flight always gave her come washing over her.

It’d been a really good day for her. Not only had she saved that little girl from falling off a balcony, but she’d stopped a purse snatcher or three, and even managed to prevent a car accident.

All without attracting too much attention. Sure, she’d been glimpsed a few times, but if she’d forever be known as just “The Blur”, something she’d already seen printed on several newspapers on the newsstands, then that was just fine by her. After all, this wasn’t about gaining anything resembling fame or fortune. This was about doing what was right, and inspiring others to do the same.

And that was enough for her.

Judy’s thoughts were interrupted by her phone buzzing in her pocket. Quickly zooming upward to several hundred feet, Judy pulled it from her pocket and started talking. “Hey Lana, how goes it?”

“Fine- wow, you’re coming through really clear. Where are you?” Lana’s voice asked from the other side.

“Couple hundred feet over Savanna Square. I had no idea cell reception was so good this high up.”

“Doing heroics again instead of your homework?” Lana asked, and Judy could practically hear the smirk on the sheep’s face. Judy rolled her eyes.

“Lana, really, it’s fine. I can write a fifty page dissertation in two minutes, but that’s no good if I can’t come up with a topic. I mean, I gotta do something that isn’t just, I don’t know, The Wizard of Oz being a metaphor for transmammalianism or sexual repression or whatever.” she rubbed her forehead with a free paw. “I swear, stuff like this makes me think I should have just been a cop; then I could get away with using my powers more regularly.”

“Well, you chose to be a journalism major, c’est la vie” Lana replied. “But what does that have to do with English Lit?”

“I guess it’s to help with structure and flow or whatever,” Judy shrugged. “Look, I’ll deal with it all later, it’s due in a week anyways. I got time. Worse comes to worse I’ll do a midnight cram session.”

“Okay then, Missus Procrastination, what are you gonna do in the meantime?” Lana asked, smirk once more apparent even over the phone. Judy was about to answer, only to have Lana cut her off. “Besides heroics; once you’re busy with that you’re golden, but everything else… Judy, you need a job. Something to occupy your free time, keep you busy. Idle brain’s the devil’s playground and all that. Our wall can’t take any more darts!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Judy sighed. “Okay, job. What job?” she rubbed the back of her neck, idly scanning the area around her.

“Well, the coffee shop is hiring, since business really went up after you roughed up those goons. Why not there?” Lana suggested.

“No, that won’t work….” Judy huffed, making a wide and lazy bank towards the cityscape as she continued. “Everybody there already knows what I look like, I’d stick out like a sore thumb. I need to be somewhere where I don’t stand out. Somewhere I can blend in, disappear, and I can have an excuse to duck out for emergencies…” she trailed off, her eyes scanning the cityscape, before they caught on the shiny, golden globe perched on top one of the larger skyscrapers, which had a chic, refined vague art deco look. In big letters, going around the globe, where the words “The Daily Planet”.

“That’s it!” Judy cheered, nearly dropping her phone. “I’ll get a job at the Daily Planet!”

“Whoa, Judy, what?” Lana answered, sounding confused. “The Daily Planet? Like, ‘Biggest Newspaper in Zootopia’ Daily Planet? Don’t you need to be like… famous to get hired there?”

Judy shook her head. “Nah, that’s just what they tell mammals that aren’t ‘in the know’, you know? My ethics teacher talked about it last semester.” She allowed herself a big grin. “I mean think about it, pretty much everything goes through the Daily Planet. They’re like the mob, but with less killing; I work there for three weeks, and I’m pretty sure I’d be able to pick up everything that goes on in the city and show my parents that I can do something with a journalism career!”

“Okay, Miss Journalist. How are you going to get all this done?”

“Shouldn’t be too hard; I can polish off a good application between the stupid English paper and my heroics. I’m sure a few of my professors would be happy to give me a rec-” The near deafening roar of a jet turbine came thundering at Judy, and she felt as if she’d just gotten hit with a baseball bat as the wing slammed into her stomach, sending her tumbling head over heels through the air, and her phone spiraling out of her paw.

After tumbling, she found her bearings, managing to reorient herself. What the heck?! she thought, scanning the sky hectically, utterly baffled. Her eyes widened as they caught on the billowing cloud of smoke. She followed it, and her chest tightened.

It was a massive airliner, and it was painfully obvious that it was in deep trouble. The black cloud led straight to one of its engines, and the aircraft was now visibly banking and arcing at a nauseatingly sharp angle as Judy felt the feeling in her chest change to an immense, plunging sense of dread.

It’s heading right into the city!

Immediately, Judy bolted forwards, coming up right besides the flaming engine. A brief flicker of her X-ray vision showed the interior had somehow been heavily damaged, with various props and shafts bent and twisted by–

Oh those poor birds, she thought, biting her lip and trying not to think too much on what a gristly fate that must of have been for them. She instead focused her attention on the wing itself. Besides the flaming engine, she could see several dark red smears, along with the crumpled remains of the flock of birds that the jet must have run into. She bit her lip again, reaching her paws out and trying to give the wing a sharp tug. The metal groaned under her paws, actively beginning to buckle, Judy trying her best to make the plane go level.

As she pulled, the plane slowly responded, just barely missing one of the buildings. Up ahead, she could see the large, green open space of the Twin Parks. Was that her only choice? The river was right freakin’ there, stupid Judy stupid!

It was then that the plane’s nose suddenly veered downwards, and the jolt sent Judy’s grip loose and her tumbling through the air backwards. Her paws locked onto the tail, as she tried her best to figure out a way to counteract the sudden, unexpected dive. She pushed down, the metal groaning again, as the airplane’s wing clipped a rooftop, destroying the water tower atop it. The airplane groaned again, and she felt a wave of panic go through her at the sight of it visibly bending as she pushed down on the tail.

This isn’t working! She bolted towards the nose again, ignoring the gawking passengers and pilots, and instead focusing her attention on the nose. The ground zoomed up closer and closer, as Judy impulsively pushed upwards with all her might. The metal once more protested, but eventually began to slowly relent, the plane’s nose steadily rising at a snail’s pace.

I think I’m gonna make it! She thought, smiling despite herself, only to have her hopes sharply interrupted.

The first thing she felt was her feet hitting the ground, the sound of dirt being viciously torn up and torn to shreds combining with the swirling cacophony of metal and engine noises. The sound of the plane’s metal body hitting the ground felt like a punch to the stomach, as the plane and her continued to plow forwards, the dirt piling up behind her in an ever growing mountain as a massive new trench was carved into the once pristine park.

Please please please please please please she thought in a panic, as the aircraft finally came to a growling, moaning, ear splitting stop.

Judy felt as if her hands were now somehow fused with the metal, the nose of the aircraft now a mangled, twisted wreck. As if in a daze, her paws released the nose, arms numbly falling to her side as she stumbled backwards, completely dazed.

She barely had a chance to get her thoughts back in order, as she suddenly was surrounded by a clamoring swarm of mammals, all completely ignoring the fact that an aircraft now sat in the middle of the park, instead rushing to get their paws on the small, grey furred rabbit who stood, looking as if she were staring down an entire army of vicious predators.

“HOLY SHIT DID YOU SEE THAT”

“SHE GRABBED THE JET!”

“I WANT HER AUTOGRAPH!”

“I WANT HER JACKET!”

“I WANT HER HAIR!”

Judy had to get out of there. Suddenly everything was so overwhelming. It was just like she was in grade school again, locked in a broom closet, surrounded by noise.

I’ve got to get away.

With that thought, she bolted skywards, her flight carrying her as far away as she could. It was all too much. She needed to go some place quiet. Someplace where things made sense.

Someplace like home.

“And in a stunning turn of events, disaster was averted when Airline Flight 235 was crippled by a bird strike, which heavily damaged one engine. However, instead of crashing, the aircraft landed inside the Twin Parks, and witnesses claim a small, light gray bunny was responsible.”

“Oh dear,” Bonnie whispered, fighting the urge to start nibbling on her nails. Disasters were always a cause of concern for all rabbits, even if they were not at the center of the disaster. While it was great that everyone survived, it would leave plenty of tensions about for weeks to come.

And Judy… poor thing. Even with her powers, that kind of pressure couldn’t be easy to deal with. Bonnie began to wring her paws together anxiously.

“In a press conference given shortly after this accident, Mayor Lionheart expressed gratitude to this mysterious savior of Zootopia.”

“Do I know who this superbunny is? No; as far as I know they have no connection to the ZPD or any other government offices. That being said, I’d certainly like to change that up a bit- Zootopia needs a hero like that, and that hero needs to be recognized! I’d love to have her come down here, shake paws, maybe even give her a medal-”

Bonnie’s nerves won out, and she quickly switched off the TV. Deep down, she knew that turning off the television would only provide a brief respite from the massive wave the news cycle would spew out for the next few weeks, and Bonnie could already picture her friends coming with all sorts of questions and speculations about what had happened.

And Judy… Bonnie gave a nervous sigh, kneading her paws together in an effort to relieve some stress.

She gave a start at the sound of the hurried knocking at the door. Smoothing the wrinkles in her dress as best she could, Bonnie moved to the door and opened it.

“Judy?” her eyebrows rose at the sight of her daughter, whose face was etched with worry, and her coat and clothing, which was a worn red bomber jacket and blue jeans, a wind swept mess.

“I screwed up, Mom.” Judy replied, stepping around Bonnie so quickly it caused a small gust of wind to follow. Bonnie forehead knitting together as she turned to follow after Judy.

“Sweetie, I know you must be under a lot of stress,” she began, but Judy shook her head as she flopped down into her chair, the weathered wooden frame creaking under her weight.

“No, it’s not that… It’s just…” she gave a flustered groan, paws awkwardly fumbling and wringing together as Bonnie quickly took a seat next to Judy, eyes burning with concern. Judy looked away from Bonnie, staring into the wooden floor beneath her feet. It took all her willpower not to burn a hole into it. “So Mom, how have you and Dad been?” She looked around. “Just where is Dad? The kits?”

“They’re all out working on the farm, Judy, it’s harvest time. But don’t change the subject. What’s wrong?” Bonnie asked. Judy didn’t answer, instead just tugging at the hem of her shirt as she took a few deep breaths. “Judy, it’s alright, whatever’s troubling you. You can tell me.”

“I…” Judy started, tears forming at the edge of her eyes. “I just wanted to help… and then…” Her ears drooped, and slumping over and burying her face in her arms. Bonnie quickly reached out and placed a paw on Judy’s shoulder, gently stroking her back to keep her calm.

“It’s okay, Judy…” Bonnie said. “This whole business with the airplane, I know it’s a bit… out there, but you did a great thing today. M-maybe not what we had in mind when we said to lay low, but-”

“You didn’t see the crowds,” Judy said, sniffing. “The crowds… Mom, it was like everyone went savage spontaneously! Shouting, clawing, pulling- Gosh, I thought they were going to rip me to pieces! They kept asking me such… such… stupid things! Like if I wanted money, if I’d give up my jacket… I even think someone proposed to me!” Judy tossed her hands up in the air. “Never mind that I saved an entire plane full of people who are probably scared out of their minds! No, let’s all amuse ourselves over the bunny, the crazy freak bunny that swooped out of the sky and made such a big fuss out of everything!” By this point, tears were freely flowing from Judy’s eyes as she visibly held back sobs.

“Oh, Judy,” Bonnie reached over and pulled Judy into a hug. “There there. Sometimes people just start obsessing over silly things like that. But you’re not a freak.”

“That’s not how they treated me there…” Judy cried, shaking her head into Bonnie’s shoulder.

“Oh Judy, You’re not a freak.” Bonnie turned Judy towards her, wiping a tear from Judy’s eyes. “Don’t you ever say that around me again. You are blessed in ways that we can only imagine, and you used your gifts to help others all your life. You are a hero, Judy, not a freak.” Judy said nothing, just burying her face in Bonnie’s chest as she gave a few short sobs. Bonnie responded by gently stroking her daughter’s ears. “It’s alright, honey, you’re here…”

“I don’t know what to do Mom,” Judy sobbed out, tightly wrapping her arms around Bonnie. “It’s like they’d taken everything you ever told me and ripped it up! Treated it like garbage! It’s like they don’t care! Now they expect me to be some sort of superstar! I didn’t want that! I… I just want to do the right thing… I don’t know how to deal with any of this!”

“Don’t worry honey, it’ll be alright. I know you. I know your intentions.” Bonnie soothed.

Judy shook her head. “But they don’t! What if everybody thinks I’m just an attention seeking freak?”

Bonnie pulled Judy off her chest to look into her eyes. “Then make your intentions clear. Be honest and tell the truth! The sooner you do that, the sooner people will understand what you’re trying to do. You’re not in St. Canard, are you?”

“No… I guess I wasn’t… it just feels… so overwhelming,” Judy replied, wiping the tears from her puffy, red eyes. “I mean, it’s weird, I’ve spent so much time worried about what others were going to think, or how they’d react, and trying to keep it a secret… but now everybody knows… How will I go to school? Get a job? My life is gone!”

“Well, they saw you maybe for a few seconds? It shouldn’t be too hard to make you blend in a little bit.” Bonnie reached out and pushed Judy’s ears back. “See? You look like a new bunny already.”

“It can’t be that easy…” Judy mumbled.

“Well,” Bonnie rubbed her chin. Her eyes landed on her weathered reading glasses, resting atop one of those dime store romance novels she indulged in every now and then. She picked up the glasses, turning them over in her paws for a moment before setting them on Judy’s face.

“It’s a start,” she muttered as Judy fumbled around with the glasses. “I think we can fluff up your coat a little bit, get you some new clothes, maybe a wig even… yes, no one will recognize you then, and you can do some more hero stuff in complete safety.”

“Mom, are you serious? How is this going to work?”

“Oh you’d be surprised, honeybunch. Why, not just the other day I read that the singer Gazelle does the same thing. All she does is let her hair down, wipe off her makeup, and wear baggier clothing and poof! Nobody knows its her. And if it can work for a superstar like Gazelle, then it’ll work just fine for you.”

Judy shifted slightly. “I guess…” she paused. “Now that I think about it, Lana was saying I should start ‘dressing the part’ when it came to hero stuff. You know, fancy cape and stuff. She even made some sketches.”

Bonnie smiled. “Fancy cape?” She stood up from her chair. “I have just the thing.” She made her way upstairs, before returning, carrying the same old box that held the objects that she and Stu had found in Judy’s rocket. Opening it, she pulled out the larger, billowing silken red cloth.

“Here, use this. I think it’s only appropriate you use what you came wrapped up in, don’t you?”

Judy’s eyes widened in surprise, taking the cloth in hand. “But Mom…Mom, this is yours. I can’t–”

“No more of this ‘I can’t’ nonsense, Judy. As your mother, I command that you take this, and make something beautiful.” She then took Judy’s paws in her own. “Because that’s what saving mammals is, Judy. A beautiful thing. And you’re better at it then anybody else I know.”

Judy teared up again, before pulling her mom into a hug. “I’ll make you proud, Mom, I swear!”

“Oh don’t worry, darling. You already have,” Bonnie answered kindly. “You already have.”