#I was also having to fight back dogs from my dinner during the beading so maybe trying somewhere mor e peaceful will help lmao

[the-eldritch-it-gay]

I messed up towards the end bcuz I lost track of which side I was come from so it ended more rope stitch but the first half of this turned out okayish for my first attempt ñsñdkdlsñdk. If I get a chance I might do some more practicing tomorrow bcuz I do like the look of the braid stitch :)

[bisexualbumblebee-writes]

Puppy Jewelry- Jasper Badun x OC

Description: After a fight with Angela over a necklace, Jasper has to think about how to make it up to her. Luckily, there was a four legged animal there to aid him. 

Word Count: 1.6k

Note: The title sucks but I did my best

Today was just not Jasper’s day. Well, that may have been an understatement. This was just not Jasper’s week. He didn’t even know what started it all, but he was ready for the week to end. Cruella had been stressing out for the past month over an upcoming summer show, which meant that she was a lot snappier than usual. Horace hadn’t been much help, as usual he wasn’t understanding social cues so he didn’t know when to stop talking. That made Cruella snap at him more, to which Jasper defended him, which in turn would cause them to get in a small fight, makeup before the day ended, then repeat the next day. It was like a vicious cycle that made Jasper more irritated as the days went by and today it had all come to a head for something completely unrelated. 

“I’m back,” Jasper called as he walked into Hell Hall, Horace by his side. 

“About time,” Cruella grumbled as she walked over to them. “Do you have it?” She held out her hand expectantly, to which Jasper placed the handle of a bag in. 

“200 white pearl beads, just like you demanded,” he muttered. 

“Great,” Cruella chirped before her smile dropped. “Now move along.” She left no room for discussion before walking away to where the dressmakers were. Horace and Jasper watched her go, and the latter’s eyes narrowed a bit. 

“You’re welcome Cruella,” he grumbled, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Wasn’t like it was hard to get those or anything.” 

“Thank you boys,” a soft voice came from behind them, making the two turn around. Angela was walking towards them as she tied her sewing apron around her waist, suggesting that she had just come back from lunch. 

“I was the one who asked for them, I didn’t realize that they were hard to retrieve. I would’ve asked for something else if I had known,” she informed them apologetically. Her words made a smile form on Jasper’s face. At least she was grateful. 

“S’alright,” he brushed off. “We got them easily enough. Just promise you’ll make something pretty out of them.” 

“You have my word,” Angela giggled. Jasper nodded with a small laugh then perked up, digging in his pocket. 

“Oh hey, I got something for you while I was out,” he mentioned. Angela’s eyebrows knit together and she stared at him curiously, only to gasp when he pulled a diamond necklace out of his pocket. 

“I know you don’t like extravagant things, so I thought this one would do just nicely,” he explained, holding it up for her to see. The necklace itself wasn’t much, it was a gold chain with a diamond in the center of it, but it was the fact that he saw it and thought of her that made it sentimental. He was right, it was perfect.

“It’s gorgeous,” she said, awe in her tone. “Will you put it on me?”

“Of course.” He grinned as she turned around and moved her hair. He wrapped the chain around her neck then clasped it as carefully as he could. Once he was done Angela looked down at it before facing him with a toothy grin. 

“Thank you, Jasper,” she muttered, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. Jasper returned the hug then kissed her cheek. 

“Anything for you.” Their sweet moment was interrupted by the socially unaware Horace. 

“Easiest grab we’ve ever done,” he added with a proud smile. Jasper felt Angela still in his arms, and he knew that Horace just said something he shouldn’t have. Angela slowly pulled away from her boyfriend and looked at their friend. 

“Grab?” She repeated. “You mean, like steal?” Horace nodded, none the wiser to the seriousness of her tone. 

“Yeah, it was just sitting out in the open in the shop. No cameras or anything,” he responded in the same proud tone. 

“Horace,” Jasper whisper-yelled, annoyed. “Zip it.” Horace stared at him confused, but Angela spoke before him. 

“You stole this necklace? Why would you do that?” She questioned firmly. Maybe Jasper spoke too soon about her being grateful. 

“Yeah,” Jasper responded as if it was nothing. “What’s the big deal?” He realized his mistake as soon as the question left his lips. Angela’s eyes widened at him. 

“Jasper!” She exclaimed. “You can’t just steal things and expect everything to be okay!” 

“It’s never done me wrong before,” the man defended, trying to keep his cool. “I don’t understand what the problem is, I did something nice for you.” 

“I appreciate that you got this for me, but I don’t want it if you’re just going to steal stuff like this for me,” she retorted. “I know that you got used to shoplifting in the past, but you have money now. It’s time to let the habit die because if you don’t you’ll end up in trouble with more than just me.” Jasper felt his anger boil over at her words.  

“Give it back then,” he demanded hotly. “If you’re going to complain about every little thing then maybe I just shouldn’t do nice things for you.” Angela stared at him surprised. 

“Jasper that’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“I don’t care. Give me back that stupid necklace. I’ll just give it to Cruella, at least she’ll appreciate it.” Angela’s jaw dropped and she felt herself tearing up from frustration. 

“Fine,” she snapped, then practically ripped the necklace off of her neck. She threw it at him, not caring when it just bounced off his chest. 

"I’m leaving,” she stated, marching over to the dressmaker's room to grab her bag. She called a bye to Cruella, Artie and Horace before leaving, not sparing even a glance at Jasper. It wasn’t until she was outside that she realized 1. She and Artie had taken a cab to get here and 2. It was bloody cold outside and she left her jacket in the house. However, her pride and stubbornness refused to let her go back so she lifted her chin and began walking home. 

It was a long walk home. The spring winds blew harshly against her and her lack of a warm coat was not helping in the slightest. The fact that she was also crying made it worse as her tears would become cold immediately and slide down her face. She took a hot bath upon arriving at her house in an attempt to warm up. During her bath she went over their entire fight, and she became upset once more. Even if she had gotten mad quickly, that didn’t mean that Jasper should’ve compared her to Cruella. Of course Cruella would’ve appreciated it, she’s known Jasper and Horace their whole lives. That was the difference between them, and apparently that meant a lot to Jasper. 

After her (admittedly long) bath, she decided to make tea and watch tv. It was her favorite way to unwind, that’s why she was a bit annoyed when someone knocked on the door. She took a look at the clock on the wall nearby, wondering who would be at her door at 8:00., before making her way to said door. She didn’t look through the peephole before opening the door and regretted it almost immediately. Jasper stood on the other side with an apologetic smile on his face. Before she could close the door or say anything, Jasper held up his arms to reveal a Dalmatian puppy. 

“Say hello to Penny,” he said softly. Angela gasped at the sight of the puppy and her gaze softened. Carefully stepping outside, she picked up the Dalmatian as if she was holding a baby. 

“She's so cute,” Angela cooed, petting Penny behind her ear. “I didn’t know the dog had her puppies already.” Jasper nodded with a small smile. 

“She’s yours. If you want her, that is.” Angela nodded immediately with a bright smile before looking at him. 

“Thank you,” she responded softly. The man nodded once more. 

“Check her collar,” he instructed. Angela furrowed her brows but did as she said, almost immediately finding the diamond necklace from earlier attached to it. Right beside it was a receipt. 

“You paid for it,” she muttered, looking at him with surprise. 

“I also wanted to apologize,” Jasper added. Angela’s shock wore away and she offered him a small smile. 

“How about you come inside and we can talk?” She suggested. The man smiled gratefully at her then followed her inside. 

             The next ten minutes were spent on the couch with Jasper telling Angela all that had been on his mind the past month and how it was affecting him negatively. Angela listened silently, continuing to pet Penny. 

“I wish you would have told me this instead of letting it manifest,” she commented once he was done. “Maybe you wouldn’t have gotten so mad and compared me to your friend.” Jasper looked down, ashamed as his earlier words ran through his head. 

“I know, it was a bloody terrible thing I did. I never compare you to Cruella, that was the only time. That doesn’t make it any better but I want to make up for it,” he responded earnestly. Angela hummed softly, glancing down at Penny. 

“Well, getting me gifts won’t get my forgiveness, but it’s definitely an adorable start.” Jasper grinned when the girl giggled at her own words then nodded. 

“I’ll do whatever it takes.” 

“How about you help me make dinner and stay over,” she suggested with a playful smile. “Depending on how good you cook, I may just forgive you tonight.” Jasper mimicked her smile. 

“You’re on,” he said before standing. Angela took his hand when he held it out for her and they walked to the kitchen together.

[shaydeoffical]

Multi-Ending Haikyuu Camping Trip, Soulmate Au, Chubby/Insecure Reader!

Bio: In a world where your soulmate’s name will randomly appear on your wrist during a full moon. (Y/n) discovers that, not only does she know her soulmate, but he’s on the same camping trip with her.

Author’s note: Thank you to @alesipanic​ for helping me edit this one <3 . Also any tw are in the tags. 

Series Masterlist

Start Here

 “This was a great idea,” Kuroo finished staking down the tent, and I let the peg go. What was going to be Kenma, Kuroo, and I going on a small camping trip turned into a massive party. Kenma invited Hinata, Kuroo invited Tsuki (who has to bring Tadashi), and Bokuto was coming if Hinata and Kuroo were here, so of course, Akaashi also tagged along. I invited my best girlfriend from college who, wisely, declined. Bokuto and Hinata were on a small break from their team, and classes weren’t in session, so it made sense for us all to hang out. Though camping might have been a more significant task than we initially planned, it'd be fun.

   “I just hope we packed everything.” I stood up and wiped my brow, sweat pooling down my forearm. While I wasn’t in the position to complain, considering that Kuroo and Bokuto carried my bags up the mountain, the hike was grueling. Even Hinata was strained after dragging Kenma the second half.

   “Well, I did make a list,” Tsukishima pushed up his glasses and grinned. “If we don’t have something, it's not my fault. You’re the forgetful one here, (Y/n).” My mouth fell open, and I sputtered.    

   “Tsuki, don’t start a fight this early in the trip.” Tadashi sat down the firewood. The two soulmates were balanced out for sure, Tadashi kept Tsuki in line, while Tsuki kept him fired up. Still, Tsuki wasn't so easily persuaded.

   “Remember what happened the last time you made (Y/n) cry.” Kuroo draped his arm around my shoulders, squeezing my speechless frame to him. Kuroo's sweat mixed with mine, at least I wasn't the only one overheating.

   “If you are proposing a rematch, I’ll win this time.” Tsuki crossed his arms and was enjoying the banter. While they did that, I was mentally going over everything I packed. Of course, I remembered the bug spray, sunscreen, medicine, and extra batteries….my power box for my phone.

   “Just apologize, and I’ll school you after dinner.” Kuroo purred, squeezing my arm, resting his head on my shoulder.

   “I’m sorry, your Highness.” My eyes widened, sweat reappearing on my forehead. Tsuki conceded, but I didn’t care at that point.

   “Thank you, but I did forget something,” I admitted, biting my lip, looking at the dirt. “I need to check my bags.”

   “What was it?” Tadashi asked, following me to the pile.

   “I brought extra sunscreen, that’s the most important thing,” Kuroo assured me, helping me dig through my bags.

   “I forgot my charging bank. But I remembered all the stuff on the list.” My clothes were strewn all over the tarp we laid out for the bags. “Shit, I’m so fucking stupid,” I growled at myself undoing my nightgown, my undies rolling out.

   “Granny panties uh.  So you already gave up on finding your soulmate.” Tsuki loved to get under my skin, while Kuroo, Akaashi and Bokuto schooled Tsuki in my honor, I was his favorite target. Tadashi hit his chest, folding my clothes back as I rummaged deeper.

   “If my soulmate wants to buy me lacey panties, I’d still wear these. I’m Top enough to be proud of my undies. We all know Tadashi tops you when the doors are closed, so that doesn’t give you a right to judge.”  I smirked, twirling my panties around my finger before shoving them back in my bag.

   “Roasted,” Kuroo backed me up, shifting through the cans of bug spray, hoping to find my box.

   “At least I’m getting some,” Tsuki huffed, not letting it go.    

   “I could get it if I wanted,” I lied. Not only was I plus size, but I was awkward around strangers. This didn’t mean I couldn’t get some, it just was hard enough when I had to find a chubby chaser, someone willing to date before finding their soulmate and not be a shy mess. Being around Kenma and Kuroo brought my confidence as a child, and it opened the doors for me to have so many friends. Yet, I wanted affection and attention in that romantic way.

   “It’s fine, we are supposed to be disconnecting from tech. I’ll turn my phone off to use for emergencies.” Tadashi reasoned, changing the subject.

   “I’ll do the same,” Kuroo set up the cans of spray and sunblock on the little table we brought to make things easier. Before Tsuki started annoying me, he was setting it up in front of the tent. “(Y/n), do you want to go check on Kenma and Hinata?”

   Silently I thanked Kuroo for an out. “Yea, those two are probably halfway down the river right now.” Dusting off my knees, I adjusted my shorts and held my head high, walking into the woods.

   “Other way,” Kuroo giggled, knowing I was beyond hopeless.

   “I was just testing you two.” I fired back, keeping my hands to my side. “Ah, forget it.”

   The best part of camping in this spot was that it was secluded. Most people didn’t bother trekking up the mountain when there was a road a few miles down. That was the plus of having athletic friends, they were able to be workhorses and carry our stuff. While we hadn’t been camping together before, I knew that if Kenma and Kuroo could do it, the others could too.

   We were on the flat part of the mountain top, but down the other side of the mountain was a river. Kenma and Hinata were sent to get us some water for washing up and doing dishes. When I finally skid down the hill, I saw Hinata swimming and Kenma on his game station, the buckets filled with water on the side.

   “It’s not time to goof,” I caught their attention, giggling as Hinata jumped on the dock, his clothes swallowing him like a drowned rat.  

   “Hey, (Y/n),” Kenma motioned for me to look over his shoulder. He was playing Animal Crossing. “Where should I put this bed?”

   “I like the bed in the center of the room, it makes me feel rich.” I put in my two sense, squatting down and resting my head on his shoulder. He put the bed down, then went to another empty room.

   “That won’t go with the flow of the bedroom. But that gives ideas me an idea for your room.” He explained, opening the design tool going to the side room. He pulled out an elegant bed and sat in the middle then put down some pastel wallpaper and flooring.

   “Now look who’s slacking.” Hinata wrung out his shirt and joined me in watching Kenma decorate.

   “It’s not slacking, it’s interior design,” I giggled, loving how Kenma was adding my favorite in-game animals to the table. “Besides, what the other’s don’t know won’t hurt them.”

   “Don’t know what?” Someone leaned their head on my shoulder, and I bounced up and around, knocking into them.

   “Bokuto, eh we were,” I covered Kenma with my body so he could save and hide his game. Hinata scurried over to the buckets.

   “You three were playing video games while we were gathering supplies.” Akaashi clicked his tongue, but I could see the slight smirk on his lips. He was standing up on the incline and definitely had the high ground.

   “We got water,” Hinata shot back, pointing to the pails. “We were just helping Kenma design.”

   “It’s going to evaporate if you don’t get it back to camp, the sun is almost at its highest point.” Akaashi had a bundle of wood under his arm, and Bokuto had the ax leaned up against a tree not too far from us.

   “Not to mention you’re drenched.” Bokuto laughed, hands on his hips. There was a thick layer of perspiration all over his body. He was one to talk about being wet.

   “I was supposed to keep them in line, but I got distracted,” I admitted, helping Kenma to his feet. “Let’s all go back together, yea?”

   “Yea,” Akaashi agreed, eyes lingering on me for some reason.

   “Oh yea, yea.” Bokuto grabbed the ax and a bucket of water. The focus shifts from me to finish the trio of yea’s.

   “Oh yea, yea, yea.” I sighed, resting a hand on my hip. “I’m not Kuroo, but I tried.”

   “Let’s hurry back,” Hinata changed the subject, grabbing two buckets. Kenma took one, and I grabbed the last pail. They were three-gallon buckets and not easy to manage.  Still, we had to get it back to camp.

   As we commenced going back uphill, I began to fall to the rear, as usual, it was either that or start to pant like a dog. I wasn’t the only one struggling, but I was the slowest and most unsure of where I was stepping and what I was stepping on.

   “We don’t need to rush,” Kenma slowed down to be beside me and nodded in solidarity. Bokuto and Hinata were racing to the top, spilling water as they went.

   “You are wasting it.” Akaashi reduced his pace to walk with us. “Those two have one brain cell between them.”

   “That’s a fair assessment,” Kenma shifted his bucket the other hand, and I did the same. The plastic around the wire handle not doing much in terms of ergonomics.

   “How was the advanced lit class?” Akaashi and I were in a similar field of study in school, and we had classes together often. So we were regular study buddies, but not this past semester.

   “It’s was challenging but not as hard as 396.” I could see the camp just ahead of us. Taking a deep breath, I pushed harder.

   “So less papers about unrequited love.” Akaashi determined, pushing his hair back. A bead of sweat sliding down his chin.

   “In essence, but to be fair, the 396 professor was just bitter, their soulmate rejected them.” I sat the bucket down with the others by the table.

   “Who rejected their soulmate?” Hinata piped up, handing me one of the bottles of drinking water.

   “Our professor.” Akaashi also got a bottle and downed it with one long swig.

   “What a nightmare,” Tadashi chimed in, holding Tsuki closer on his lap. They both were cuddling by the fire pit.

   “Was he mean or something?” Hinata pushed it further.

   “From the rumors, it was a petty reason like he was already balding or she was in love with a model.” I summarized, applying more sunscreen to my shoulders. “It made him a bitter man, who had an affinity for assigning tragic readings. In one semester, we read more books about soulmates never meeting or breaking up, to make up for a lifetime.”

   “Hamlet was a hard one,” Akaashi added, stretching his back.

   “Ophelia deserved better,” I sighed, remembering Hamlet being too preoccupied with other things to love her. “To be or not to be my ass.”

   “Let’s have happier thoughts.” Tadashi clapped his hands, going over to grab the fire starting kit.  “How about we celebrate setting up camp by lighting the fire and cooking up some lunch?”

   “Sounds like a plan,” Kuroo grabbed the hot dogs from the cooler.

   “Let’s get a seat.” Kenma tugged me to the logs that had been left by other campers, and we took our seat. Kuroo sat by Kenma, both of us leaning over his shoulder to watch him fish in animal crossing.

   “So when are we setting up the net?” Hinata picked up the volleyball and swirled it between his hands.

   “After we eat, we can go to the river and work on that.” Kuroo was always worried about us, making sure we were eating and staying hydrated. Even as a child, he’d often split his lunch with me when my mom would ‘forget’ to pack one for me. Later on, he just started to bring another bento for me. He always had my best interests at heart. He also worried over Kenma, that’s why I hoped he’d be my soulmate. Kuroo cared about everyone and took excellent care of me. While I wasn’t stereotypically beautiful, he always made me feel that way.  

   If my soulmate wasn’t Kuroo, I’d want them to be someone like him. I’d be okay if my soulmate was Kenma too, we’d get along just fine and play games all day. Or Akaashi, he was a little shy like me, but I could learn to be the outgoing one. Bokuto would be an okay spouse, he had a lot of energy, and definitely made for an excellent dance partner, he was just passionate. Hinata, well he was the one I knew the least, but he reminded me of Bokuto, but stable. Why did this turn into me thinking about my soulmate among my single friends? It didn’t matter; my soulmate was probably miles away, dating a pretty girl and living their best solo life.

   Deep inside my gut, I knew I’d be single for life. Kenma or Kuroo would take pity on me and let me live with them and their partner. I’d grow old and write the tragic books I spent all last year reading. Still, there was a flame lightly flickering in my chest, I could still keep dreaming for a better ending. It didn't have to be so tragic.

[storydays]

Season 1, ep 5, p1

You opened your eyes to see a young child running through luscious green gardens. The child was giggling and quickly slid on his stomach to hid underneath a bush. Your sight cleared up a bit to see the child was you, age 5. Younger you peeked out and yelped when you were picked up by large hands, and you heard your father's booming laughter. "Found you, my little waterbender!" Your father turned you upside down and tickled you, making you squeal and cry out, "Uncle! Uncle!"

"All right, Bumi, dear, be careful with him. He just ate lunch." A beautiful (H/c) woman walked over, her short hair flowing in the wind. Your father chuckled, before setting you on his shoulder, and walked over to your mother. "Sorry, love. I couldn't help it! I've missed you both so much." He wrapped his free arm around her waist, and kissed her passionately, making you groan in disgust.

"Ew, Mom, Dad, gross." You stuck your tongue out in disgust. "Oh, what are you talking about gross?" Bumi growled playfully, tickling your sides again. You laugh, and wiggle out of his grip before running to hide behind your mother's leg. You heard your mother giggling which made you suspicious, but shrieked with your mother when you both were in the cold water. You clung to your mom's back, giggling like mad. 

Your father's pale blue eyes sparkled with mischief, while he remained dry on land, laughing so hard, he was clutching his stomach. Your mother tickled your side, your secret signal for getting your father. You both summoned a giant wave and brought your father into the ocean with you. You jumped on his back, and he began swimming around like a polar bear dog, your mother swimming behind you. 

You then wrapped an arm around your mom's neck, and hung between the two adults, and looked at them hopefully. "We'll be like this forever, right?" Your innocent question made their hearts hurt, but they couldn't bring themselves to tell you the truth, not yet. So they held you closer, and smiled . 

"Of course, kiddo." "Yes, my love."

*End vision*

You opened your eyes to see Jinora and Nevermore over you, looking worried for you."(Y/N), are you okay?" Jinora whispered. You looked outside to see it was dark out, meaning you fell asleep reading again. "Hey, 'Nora. Yes, I'm okay. Are you okay?" You sat up, your hair sticking up everywhere and poofy. She giggled, but then looked down at her hands, shyly peeking at you. "I-I had a nightmare, and I can't go to Mom and Dad." 

Nevermore crawled into the little bookworm's lap. "How come you didn't go to Korra?" you wondered. "Because Daddy says that Korra needed to be alone for a little while. Can I sleep with you?" She used her polar bear pup eyes, and you sighed in playful defeat. Lifting your blanket, you silently told her to come under. She snuggled into your side, and Nevermore curled near your heads. 

"Good night, (Y/N)." Jinora whispered. "Good night, Jinora." 

*The next day*

You exhaled sharply, as you wrapped your knuckles up tightly. "It's been great to have you back, Korra." "It feels great to be back, although Tarrlok isn't please with our leaves of absences." Bolin scoffed. "Hey, (Y/N) created the Fire Ferrets and Korra, you joined before you joined his task force." "Okay guys, team huddle." You clapped your hands, making the younger teens walk over and put their hands over each other shoulders. 

Bolin grinned goofily, making Korra grin goofier, and you and Mako glance at each other uneasily before Mako clear his throat before taking over. "It's our first match of the tournament tonight. I know our team has been having some ups and downs for a little while. But even so, the Fire Ferrets have been on top of their game. Are we ready?"

Korra and Bolin echoed: "We're ready!" "Not yet." a sweet voice sung from behind you guys. You broke your group up to see Asami holding up a new uniform. "You'll need these." Mako immediately walked over. "Hey Asami." "Good morning, sweetie." She replied happily, as the firebender admired the outfits. "These new uniforms look great." he complimented. You and Korra looked at each other before rolling your eyes at the 'couple'.

"You look great, champ." Bolin rolled his eyes, Korra gagged when they rubbed noses, and you scowled, but you all fixed yourselves when they turned to you guys. "Well, teammates, I'll see you before the match tonight. Asami and I have a lunch date." "Okay, we'll check with you guys later!" Bolin cheered, waving. "Yeah, see ya when we see ya." You  grumbled, before turning away, and tightening your ponytail. 

You watched Bolin and Korra from the corner of your eye. "Soo, Korra...There they go, here we are. All alone in the gym, just you and me, two people alone. Together, alone." Bolin sputtered when Korra said, "What about (Y/N)?" "(Y/N) doesn't count; you've seen him in matches." You huff a laugh at that.

"Uh..I got to head back to Air Temple to train with Tenzin. See ya!" Korra ran out of their awkwardly. You pat Bolin's shoulder as he pouted in sympathy. "Soo, you like Korra don't you?" you smirked. He laughed, avoiding your gaze. "There's no use hiding it. And guess what, I'll be your wing-man." The Earthbender grinned as you began to explain your plan. 

*That night*

"Work with me, Pabu! You want to look spic and span in your new uniform, don't you?" Pabu chattered angrily as Bolin put him into the warm bath water. Nevermore smirked from the other side of the room, her tail lazily swinging back and forth from your shoulder. "So, what do you think of Korra in a girlfriend sort of way?" Bolin asked outloud.

"Personally, I don't see Korra that way. She's like my little sister, if I'm being honest." You hummed, turning in the mirror to brush your hair out. "She's great, but I think it makes more sense for me to go for Asami." Mako thought aloud, stirring the dinner. Your grip tightened around your brush, as you glared at the Firebender's back.  Bolin was also irritated but for a different reason. 

"I was talking about a girlfriend for me, Mako. Leave some ladies for the rest of us!" Bolin snapped, as Mako realized his mistake. "I know, that's what I thought you meant." "Sure, Mako. That's why you said, 'I'." You said sarcastically. "I don't know, Bo. It doesn't seem like a good idea for you to date Korra." "You just said, she was great two seconds ago." The Earthbender narrowed his eyes at his brother. 

"Yeah, Korra's a great athlete and Avatar and stuff. But I don't know if she's really girlfriend material. She's more like a pal." "A-A pal?" You questioned, turning half away to share a look with Bolin. "Bro, you're nuts. Korra and I are perfect for each other. She's strong, I'm strong. She's fun, I'm fun. She's beautiful, I'm gorgeous." You laugh as he continued. "Okay, I don't care what you think, I'm going to ask Korra out." 

That caught Mako's attention. "Look, it isn't just a smart idea to date a teammate, especially during a tournament. Keep your head out of the clouds and your priorities straight, okay?" Mako turned to finish cooking dinner. "You know what I'm talking about, don't you, Pabu? I'm talking about real love." He whispered to the Fire Ferret.

 You laugh again, putting blue beads in your hair. "Don't worry, Bo. You'll find the right girl one day." You went silent again, watching Mako from the mirror. 'This whole thing with Asami isn't good. Someone is going to get hurt, most likely Asami and/or Bolin. So how....how can I stop it?'

*A few hours later*

You tied your belt around your waist, listening to the announcer talk to the crowd.

"This is it folks, after a year of waiting, the pro bending tournament is finally here. Tonight is the first set of matches in our single elimination, 16 team bracket. And I gotta tell ya, these are the most tenacious and talented bending trios this arena has ever seen. " 

At that point you made it to the platform with your team, and the light shining on you guys. "Introducing our first team, the Future Industries Fire Ferrets." Everyone began cheering, you could even hear Korra in the background cheering. "Yeah, (Y/N)!" You looked into the stands to see Nagisa and Kazan calling you. You didn't know they were coming tonight, but it made your heart happy. 

"You can do it (Y/N)!" Nagisa cheered with Kazan waving from your Aunt Rene's shoulder. You waved back and blew a kiss to your aunt. "And their opponents, the Red Sand Rabbaroos." The crowd cheered louder when the two opposing teams made an explosion right away. "What an explosive opening volley. Both teams recover quickly and unleash a barrage of bending, I am astonished with how amazing the Fire Ferrets have improved! No wonder, Councilman (Y/N) and the Avatar haven't been in the pages lately. They've obviously had their noses to the grindstone in the gym." 

You used your ice to protect Bolin from an incoming Earth disk he wasn't aware of. "The Ferrets advance into Rabbaroo territory and are holding nothing back. Nice sprawl there by Mako, Bolin strikes, Ula dodges and all three Rabbaroos are down! The Fire Ferrets easily take round one, now onto round 2."

You smirk, using the water to knock the Firebender down the back. "The Rabbaroos are looking for payback, and they go after (Y/N). Bolin comes to his rescue, and he Earth disks Umi back into Zone 2! The Ferrets are on fire tonight, and they win round 2!" You, Mako and Bolin high fived each other.

"Round Threeee!" drawled another announcer. "With the Rabbaroos down two rounds, they'll need a knockout to win, and with the way the Ferrets are playing, I don't see that happening." The crowd began booing. You punched the air, making water fly at your opponents. "These Ferrets are moving like an well oiled machine." Bolin grunted as he sent three Earth disks to the opposing firebender, knocking her back. 

"Bolin bashes Adi into Zone 2, and the Ferrets get the green light to advance. The Rabbaroos are just fighting to stay on their feet at this point, down goes Adi, Ula, and Umi." "All three rounds go to the Future Industries Fire Ferrets who win their opening tournament match!" You all cheered, with giant grins on your faces. 

As you all walked back to the room to change, Mako spoke to you, not noticing Korra was there waiting for you guys. "Wow, we were really awesome tonight in that ring. Glad to have you back, (Y/N)." You took your helmet off and grinned wider. "Yeah, it's great to see we haven't lost our spark." Korra came up to you guys with a smile on her face and grinned. "Yeah, you guys were awesome out there!" "Thanks, Korra." Your cheeks were hurting from smiling so much at that point. 

You went behind the curtain to change into your street clothes, hearing Bolin talk to the audience more. Korra seemed to forgot you were in hearing range because as you were getting dressed, you heard her talk to Mako. "So, I've been thinking we should spend some time together." Mako chuckled, "We've been spending lots of time together." "I mean, outside of the gym and not while searching for kidnapped family members, or fighting chi blockers." she clarified. 

"I don't know. Asami and I are--" You almost fell over when you heard Korra say, "Look, I really like you and I think we were meant for each other." 

Silence followed. 

"Korra, I'm really sorry, but I just don--" at that moment you walked out, and cut him off. "Don't think it isn't a good idea to not hang out as friends." "You heard all that?!" Korra asked, blushing a bright red. "Kind of hard when I'm changing in the next room, Kor." "Will you excuse us for a second?" You pulled Mako away from her as Bolin came in. You then pulled Mako's ear, making him groan. 

"Ow, (Y/N)! What was that for?" he demanded. You frown at him, cross your arms and stare him down. "Mako, what in the entire hell is wrong with you?" you countered. "What do you--" "Don't play stupid with me! You don't even love Asami, you're in love with Korra! I don't know what is up with you lately, but you are being a ass! First you try to shoot Bolin down when he asked you for advice about his love life, and now you're trying to shoot Korra down hard." you whispered shouted. 

"Look, Mako, I'm telling you this as your best friend," you placed a hand on his shoulder, making amber eyes look into your (e/c) eyes, "You can't have it both ways. You need to make a decision and make it before anymore people get hurt." You walked away, leaving the firebender to trail behind you. 

"Congratulations, guys! You looked amazing out there." Asami beamed as she came into the room, giving Mako a kiss on the cheek. Mako smiled weakly before looking at a heart broken Korra. You raised an eyebrow at Mako, making him look away in shame before walking away with Asami. 

Rolling your eyes, you sighed aggravated, but felt your mood life as you heard little feet running towards you. "(Y/N)!" Nagisa's body slammed into you, hugging your waist, while Kazan hugged your leg. "Hey guys! It's been a while!" You knelt down to hug the children listening to Bolin ask Korra something.  "So, Korra, I was thinking you and me,we could go get some dinner together. Sort of date situation." 

"Oh, that's really sweet, but I don't think so. I don't feel very date worthy." She said sadly. "Are you kidding me? You're the smartest, funniest, toughest, buff-est, talented-est, incredible-est in the world!" Bolin said, a slight blush on his cheeks. Korra giggled at the Earthbender. "You really feel that way about me?" she asked slightly. 

"I felt that way since the moment I saw you. Trust me,I know we're going to have so much fun together." Bolin encouraged."You know what? I could use some fun. Okay, sure." "Yes! Who's the luckiest guy in the world? Right here, Bolin!" 'Good for you, Bo.' You smiled, zoning back into Nagisa's chattering.

The little girl was talking about how cool it was living with your aunt. "Yeah, Aunt Rene is pretty cool. I like visiting her because she's so much fun." You turned to Kazan and signed, 'What do you think of living with Rene?'  He smiled toothily, and signed back, 'She's really nice! She's a firebender like me, and has been teaching me to use my powers. She also has a waterbender teacher come for Nagi.' Suddenly he frowned, and signed, 'I just wish there were kids my age around. It'd be nice to have other people around besides Ms Rene, Nagisa, and her staff.' 

You hummed, and then brightened up, before turning to your aunt. "Why don't you guys come to Air Temple for dinner? I can cook, and Nagisa and Kazan can meet the Air kids." Rene looked at the two children and smiled. "Sounds good, let's do it." You turned to Kazan and signed,'Well, you are about to get your wish, little dude. You can come meet my cousins.' 

Together you walk out, Kazan riding your back, and Nagisa holding Rene's hand, and chanting, "Food, food, food!"

Neo nuzzled Kazan when he came forward, and you helped Nagisa onto Neo's saddle. "Hold on tight okay, we're going to take the fast way. 

*Timeskip*

You walked into Air Temple and found your family relaxing in the garden, waiting for you to come home. Ikki brightened up and ran over to you, with an excited look on her face. "(Y/N)! How'd it go? Was it super cool? Did you win? Are you going to the next match to-" You cut her off by laughing, and splashing her with a litle bit of water. 

"Hey Cheeky Ikki. Yes it was super cool, we did win, and we're going to the next match. But I have some friends for you to meet first." You went to the side and revealed the shy firebender and excited waterbender. "Hi! I'm Nagisa, and this is my brother Kazan!" Ikki, Jinora, and Meelo looked at the sister brother duo curiously. "Nagisa, Kazan, meet the Airbender family: This is my Auntie Pema, and Uncle Tenzin, and my cousins, Jinora, Ikki, and Meelo. Family, meet Nagisa and Kazan, and you all know my Aunt Rene." 

Rene wrapped an arm around you and smiled. "Cooking competition?" she grinned deviously. "Cooking competition." you agreed. "Yay! On your mark," Meelo started, "Get set," Ikki giggled with Nagisa. "Go!" Jinora cried, as you and your aunt began cooking at a rapid pace. "And done!"

You presented: 

Vegetable curry, for the vegans of the family, while your aunt presented:

Meat surprise for the meat lovers of families. 

"Enjoy!"

[backtobackbakubabe]

I am the Alpa Now part 1

Bakugo X Reader 

Words: 2808 

Reader is from America and somewhat of a delinquent with an alpha quirk that allows her to turn into a wolf as well as bond with dogs. She is sent to UA to straighten out her attitude. She ends up in a power struggle with none other than our favorite hot head. Words in Italics are words said telepathically 

*****************************************************************************************************

Don’t do the crime if you can't do the time... That was what my stubborn, hard ass, police chief father told me before shipping me off to some stupid school across the world.

What was my crime you may ask? I was my small towns vigilante for over a year. Sure I may have not respected law enforcement during that time, or public property for that matter, but I never took it too far. Or at least in my humble opinion I didn’t. But apparently the mayor and my father did not agree. The final straw was when I left mugger tied up in front of the police station with a note to the police asking them to do their fucking job. Sure that note may have been graffitied on the side of the building but I think I got my point across.

So that brings us to my time... which I will be spending as some school called UA in Japan. My dad knew one of the teachers there and they agreed it would be the best thing for me. Teach me some discipline and respect or whatever. So here I am on an airplane leaving the only world I’ve ever known behind. Sure Georgia wasn’t much but it was home.

*****************************************************************************************************

You wouldn't be totally alone though. Due to your Alpha quirk you were allowed to bring your wolf-dog Mercy. You yourself could turn into a wolf about the size of a small horse and as durable as a tank, and you could also establish your alpha dominance over other dogs and in some special cases you could bond with them and add them to your pack. So far you've only managed to add Mercy but it was an amazing bond you wouldn't trade for anything. The bond allowed you to telepathically communicate with him and the longer you were bonded the smarter he got. He was basically thinking full sentences now. He was also getting faster and stronger, it was like part of your quirk was rubbing off on him.  

You were anxious as hell knowing he was in a kennel in the cargo area of the plane. You knew he was okay though. You could feel his presence, but it did nothing for your nerves. You just wanted to land already and give him a big squishy hug.

Somehow you managed to fall asleep and when you woke up you were in a different country. You knew only a small amount of Japanese and you didn’t know anything about the culture... Here goes nothing.

You were picked up at the airport by a fancy looking SUV. The man driving didn’t look at all pleased with the fact that Mercy would be riding in the car with you.

“Why does this man stare at me?” Mercy made sure to stay in between me and the driver as my luggage was loaded into the car.

I gave him a quick scratch behind his ears to try and calm him down. “Easy Mercy. He’s nice. I just don’t think he wants you to shed all over his nice black leather seats”

Huffing he jumped into the backseat of the SUV, “It’s not like I have fleas…and I took a bath before we left!”

You giggled at your beta buddy and hopped in behind him, ignoring the confused look of the driver. He must think you’re crazy laughing at nothing. But then again you were used to that. You didn’t always remember to speak to Mercy telepathically and you had to admit you looked crazy having a one-sided conversation with a dog.

You marveled at the passing town through the window. You definitely were not in Georgia anymore.

When you arrived at the school it was already a little after midnight, but you were nowhere even close to being tired. The car pulled up to the front gate and you could see a few figures out there waiting for you. You were from the south and you were used to good ole southern hospitality, but you couldn’t believe they were up past midnight just to help you with your things.

The driver got out and started unloading your belongings from the trunk as you took a deep breath and opened up the google translator app on your phone. “Alright y/n you can do this. You’re a badass bitch who takes no shit from no body. You are smart, you strong, you can do anything…”

“Oi! You fucking done talking to yourself?”

Your head whipped up to see that a spikey haired blonde had opened the passenger door in the front and was staring at you. You sighed and returned your phone to your pocket, “Oh thank god you speak English!”

His red eyed narrowed, “Yeah unfortunately I have the highest scores in English so I’m the one stuck with you for however long it takes you to catch up.”

Mercy started to growl sensing this new guys hostility. I snapped my fingers, “Hey. Calm down! He’s a friend. He’s obviously an asshole but he’s our new friend.”

Mercy continued to growl low in his throat, “No. I am your friend. I don’t like him. He is not our friend.”

You snorted, “I can have more than one friend dumbass. Now chill the fuck out.”

The new guy was now glaring at you. His red eyes tried so hard to look mad, but you could see a hint of curiosity in there. “Oh great she fucking talks to dogs… Let’s go! The rest of the welcome wagon extras are ready to piss themselves they are so excited.” He started to walk away but he gave you one last glance, “And tell your mutt to stop fucking staring at me like I’m dinner.”

“WHO IS HE CALLING MUTT!”

You just laughed at your dog as you made your way out of the car and grabbed your backpack. Mercy followed and took his place at your heels. You walked up to the smiling group of students waiting at the front of the building that looked the most like dorms.

A green headed boy with a huge smile walked up and bowed, “Hello my name is Midoriya. Welcome to UA! This is Iida, our class rep, and of course you’ve already met your guide Bakugo.

You smirked so weird guy’s name was Bakugo, “Nice to meet all of you. My name is Y/n, and this here is my beta Mercy. He’s part of my pack and he’s very sweet unless you give him a reason not to be.”

“Tch.. yeah right. Dumbass dog growled at me.” Bakugo’s eyes narrowed.

Iida sighed, “Well Bakugo I’m sure you probably gave him a reason to then.”

Midoriya leaned over and picked up one of your bags that actually held all of Mercy’s things. “So Y/n, what did you mean when you said he was your beta?”

You took the bag from him and strapped it to Mercy. “He actually likes to carry his own bags. But yeah so back to your question. I’m the alpha which makes him the beta… and well… I guess it’s just easier to show you.”

Your eyes started to glow blue and then you shifted into your wolf form. You absolutely loved being in your wolf form. You always felt so powerful and free. Like you could do anything, like you had no limits or rules to follow. Your senses were naturally better than most peoples but in your wolf form they were heightened even more. At this moment in time you could hear the thudding heartbeats of the people before you. You could see the beads of sweat dripping down Midoriya’s forehead. You could smell what you could only describe as excitement coming from someone.

Bakugo was the only one who looked unimpressed, so you walked up to him. Your eyes being level with his. Your large electric blue eyes staring right into his scarlet ones. You took a step closer sniffing him and just when you could sense he couldn’t possibly be more annoyed.. you went and give him a nice big lick from chin to forehead.

“Ugh! That’s disgusting! What the fuck!” He was frantically whipping his face with the sleeve of his shirt and shooting daggers at you the whole time.

“Y/n why do you kiss the angry boy! I don’t like him!” Mercy huffed and shook his head.

You shifted back into your human form laughing the whole time. “I’m sorry but you should have seen your face. I just had to!” Your nose scrunched up at the smell of something really sweet. Almost sickeningly so. You sniffed until it led you to Bakugo’s palms. “What’s that smell?” You covered you nose to stop to awful smell from invading your nostrils and further.

Bakugo smirked as his hands crackled with mini explosions, “Well if were showing off our quirks the-.”

“Kachan stop! There will be plenty of time for that tomorrow… Sorry Y/n as you can see he has a short fuse.” Midoriya was rubbing the back of his neck now, “But he’s not so bad once you get to know him I promise.” He gestured to the dorms, “Shall we show you to your room?”

You nodded and attempted to pick up what was left of your bags. It wasn’t easy though and soon enough you were starting to drop stuff. You were about to stop to rearrange how you were carrying everything when Bakugo strolled up next to you and took two of your bags, “Shit did you have to bring everything you own?”

Before you could respond he was storming off ahead of you.

“Just give me the signal and I’ll bite him.” Mercy tight on your heels, taking in all the new surroundings. You knew he was fighting the urge to pee on every bush you passed. He may be smarter than most dogs, but he still had those territorial instincts.

“Mercy we got sent here because we apparently need to learn how to behave… I don’t think biting someone on our first day is a great idea…”

“He started it!”

You just chuckled as you followed your new friends into the building and down a few halls. First floor, very nice.  

Bakugo threw you bags down in front of a door and immediately stalked off to the room next door and slammed the door behind him. Great so he was your neighbor too….

Midoriya gave you a shy smile, “So usually the girls sleep on a different floor. But given the fact that your quirk means you have an animal we thought it would be smart to put you next to Koda. His quirk is talking to animals so he always has a few pets. So he’s your neighbor to the left. And ah .. Kachan is your guide for the next few weeks so it makes sense that you would be close to him so he’s your neighbor to the right. If this makes you uncomfortable though we can always find you a new room!”

You waived him off, “I’m fine! I don’t scare easy. Thanks for all the help! I can take it from here. I guess I’ll see you all in the morning?”

Iida bowed, “Yes. Bakugo should come collect you no later than 7 am to escort you to class. Your uniform should already be hanging in your closet. Good night.”

You gave a quick awkward bow, “g’night y’all”

You could hear Midoriya giggling about how you had actually said y’all as you closed the door. He seemed like a sweet guy, a little goofy maybe, but sweet. Bakugo on the other hand… You couldn’t wait to fuck with him. He just seemed so tense and you felt like you could quite literally make him explode.

Your room was pretty sparse save for a bed, nightstand, desk, and a lamp. You could work with this. A few posters and pictures from home. Maybe a cool rug… you were happy you didn’t have to share with anyone though. By nature you were a night owl. You preferred several small naps throughout the day then a whole nights sleep. You were always just so restless to sleep for too long.

You unpacked Mercy’s things first and gave him a quick snack. You put the bed he almost never used at the foot of your bed. You knew he would just end up in his usual spot curled up next to you. He didn’t have many toys but he did have lots of bones to chew on. He only had one single stuffed toy. It was an elephant that he had gotten when he was a puppy and he was a little protective of it. You threw the stuffed elephant on your new bed and sighed. The rest of your shit could wait until tomorrow.

Mercy hopped onto the bed and curled up around his elephant and yawned, “If we’re not going for a run tonight then I’m going to go to bed.”

You looked at your phone and saw it was a little past one in the morning. Bakugo would be here to “collect you” in less than six hours. Usually you’d try and scope the perimeter before sleeping anywhere but you figured this place was probably one of the most secure places you’ve ever been, and you also had no idea what kind of day you had in store tomorrow.

“Yeah bud, I think a good night sleep is probably best. I don’t know if we’ll get a chance to nap tomorrow.”

Mercy started to wine, “Noooooo I need my naps.”

Well no one said you can’t nap. You’re not the one who’s actually going to be in class.”

“Wait you’re taking me with you right? To class?”

You frowned and climbed into bed next to him, “Yeah I don’t know. They never got back to me on if you could go to class. They said you were welcome during training sessions though…”

Mercy wined again obviously stressed out, “That’s not fair! I want to learn too! I don’t want you to leave me! We just got here, what if something bad happens. Nooooooooo”

The end of his sentence resulted in a howl. Shit. “Mercy shut up! You’re going to get us in trouble. They’re going to kick us out if you start waking people up in the middle of the fucking night!”

But of course, he wasn’t listening. He just continued to howl, throwing a temper tantrum just like a toddler would.

You huffed in irritation and your eyes started to glow. You used your alpha voice, “I said Stop….”

His howl immediately stopped and his head bowed to show his submission, “I’m sorry…. I am a good boy. I’ll stop now.”

You gave his head a quick pat before pulling the blanket up to your chin. “It’s okay buddy. I know the first few days are going to be a little stressful.” You reached over and turned the lamp off. “See you in the morning. Try to get some sleep.”

You felt Mercy move his massive furry head to lay on your stomach, “Hey… please don’t be mad…. But I kind of need to pee.”

You rolled your eyes and threw off the blanket, “Of fucking course you do. You have the smallest fucking bladder for how big a dog you are.”

“Wolf”

“Whatever let’s just go.”

You opened your door just to be met with the angry glare of your neighbor, “Are you going to fucking talk to dog all night? These walls are thin!”

You stared at him for a minute before cracking a smile and patted his head, “Is it past someone’s bed time?”

Flustered Bakugo took a step closer, “Tch what? No? You and your stupid dog are just really fucking loud!”

“WOLF! I AM A WOLF!”

You nodded in acknowledgment to Mercy and returned you attention to Bakugo, “Wolf.”

He sneered, “Excuse me, what?”

You shrugged, “He’s a wolf. You called him a dog and he’s a wolf and I think you should apologize.”

His eyes bugged out of his head, “I’m not apologizing to a fucking DOG!”

Mercy started to growl so low it was almost a hum. You could tell he was nervous but also a little amused. “Tell him if he doesn’t get out of my way I will pee on him.”

You started laughing which pissed Bakugo off even more, “OI! What’s so funny!”

You thumped him on the nose, which is something you usually did when training dogs. Nothing hard just a light thump. “He said he needs to pee and you look an awful lot like a tree.”

“Ugh you disgusting excuse for a woman! No fucking manors!” He stomped off back to his room slamming his door for the second time that night.

[softbiker]

Bucky Barnes Oneshot

Warnings: some language, excessive sun exposure, nudity (but no smut)

Word count: 5.4k (why am i like this)

A/N: This fic is very self-indulgent - it’s short on plot and long on summer vibes. Also, this is a reader insert fic, but I hate writing Y/N and using second person narration, so reader has been given an ‘Avenger alias’. Hope you like it. :) Basically, Bucky deserves this, and we deserve for summer to never end. <3 I hope you all enjoy it, and as always let me know what you think!!

P.S. here’s the playlist inspired by this fic

“Geronimo!”

Sam’s battle cry is the only warning before he takes the plunge; Bucky scrambles from his place on the boat deck, shielding his book with his towel and his hands in a last ditch effort to save the pages from water-logged ruin. He scowls as Sam resurfaces, breaching the water with a laugh and blinking to clear his eyes.

“Hey - watch it, bird brain.” Thankfully, his copy of Ender’s Game remains safe and dry, despite Sam’s carelessness. Wiggling his hips, Bucky scoots further back on his towel, away from the edge of the boat and hopefully out of the splash zone.

“You’re the one complaining about getting wet at the lake, Barnes,” Sam quips back, lazily swimming towards the ladder. “I’m not to blame here.”

“Doesn’t mean I want my book getting wet,” Bucky mutters. A bead of sweat slides down his neck - several beads actually; he can feel how flushed his face is in the dog day heat of a July afternoon. As he lays on his belly, pineapple printed beach towel spread underneath him; his sunglasses slowly slide down the bridge of his nose, his face too slick with sweat to hold them up properly.

“C’mon, guys,” Steve sighs. He couldn’t look less concerned if he tried - long limbs sprawled in the water, his star-spangled ass wedged firmly in a neon blue floatie, a can of beer in one hand. A pink patch of color has bloomed on his chest and spreads across his shoulders with each passing hour, despite regular reapplication of his sunscreen. “Can we not do this all weekend?”

“Mm, I’m with Steve,” a voice pipes up, languid and sleepy, from the sun deck along the top of the boat. “I don’t wanna listen to you two bickering for the next three days.”

Bucky’s mouth goes even dryer and his cheeks burn with a different kind of heat, tongue thick in his mouth at the sound of her voice. Embarrassment creeps up in him - why does he always let Sam’s ribbing get to him, damn it?

“Hey - he started it, Angel,” Sam holds up his hands in surrender, his own towel draped across damp shoulders. There’s a crystal droplet of water on the tip of his nose. “I’m just trying to have a good time.”

She peeks over the ledge from her coveted sunbathing spot, pushing her oversized sunglasses up on her head so she can fix him with a skeptical pout. Bucky rolls a couple inches sideways, leaning on one elbow to lift his gaze up to her. The sun blazes behind her, casting a vivid white corona of heat; the baby blue lurex of her bikini glitters against her skin, her limbs shining with coconut oil and sweat. She’s gathered her hair up on top of her head, but a few adorable baby hairs have escaped at the nape of her neck and her temples, curling sweetly in the humid, hazy air.

She’s only been with the team for a few months - new to the Avengers, and to superhero-ing in general. Operating alone for years, and cleverly flying under the radar, she’d found Tony Stark waiting for her in a refugee camp on the coast of Greece with a disturbingly complete dossier on her, as well as a job offer. Within moments of meeting her, the team dubbed her “Angel” - in slight awe at the way her glowing fingers healed Clint’s broken ones during their brief introductory handshake. From then on, she’s been their undisputed MVP, saving their accident-prone skins so many times they’ve already lost count.

“You know - that smells like bullshit, Sam.” The barest hint of a smirk tugs at her mouth, and even squinting in the sun her eyes are bright.

Sam sputters, playing at mock offense.

“Excuse me?” he says, a hand pressed to his heart.

“Just leave Bucky alone,” Angel rolls her eyes, letting her sunglasses drop back to shield her from the glare off the water. “And Steve? You might want to use a higher SPF, or you’ll need me to heal that later.”

Satisfied, she stretches back on her towel up on the sun deck, one arm long and lazy above her head, the other reaching for her phone - restarting one of her podcasts, Bucky thinks. Tiny wireless headphones tucked in her ears, she’s always listening to them; there’s a true crime one that she loves, but he can’t remember the name. Looking down at his chest, Steve seems to just notice the ripening sunburn on his skin. With a sigh, he flips himself out of the inner tube and into the water, swimming the short distance to the boat and pulling himself up the ladder in search of sunscreen.

Bucky ducks his head back down to his book. He tries to read, focus his eyes on the words in front of him - but, surprisingly, he’s almost too relaxed. He feels heavy, lazy, down to his bones; his eyelids droop and the words on the page run together. It’s not unpleasant, though - the heat has soaked right through his muscles, and for the first time in ages he finds that he’s not sore, not aching. Just a little tired, like a cat in the sun. Stretching and settling on his towel, he tucks his head in the nest of his folded arms and closes his eyes.

When Angel had proposed a lake weekend, inviting the team out to her family’s place in the woods, everyone had leapt at the idea. A few days spent in pure laziness, hours wiled away on the water or with a book, with no one to rescue and no battles to fight - it sounded too good to be true. Pure summer paradise.

Beneath him, the boat rocks dully on small waves. He feels himself lulled into a trance as his body sways gently in the same rhythm, back and forth. Paradise, Bucky thinks as he drifts off.

**********

That night, the sun lingering late in the sky, cicadas humming in the trees, the guys grill out on the deck at the cabin. It smells like heaven, fresh corn and burgers and mushrooms; inside the house, Wanda slices tomatoes and Angel stirs caramelized onions on the stove. At the island, Natasha patiently mashes avocados for her famous guacamole - made famous by the fact that it’s frequently her only contribution to family dinners.

“Wow, Nat, I think you actually got a tan,” Wanda smirks. “Right there, on your arm?”

“That’s just a freckle,” Nat scowls. “Which is why I use high SPF and don’t lay in the sun for hours.”

“Hey, at least you won’t get skin cancer,” Angel laughs, not looking up from her onions. Their smell wafts through the kitchen, mouth-watering and tangy sweet, mixed with the fresh and smoky air from the open window to the deck. Outside, the laughter around the grill bursts in a loud crescendo, Sam slapping Clint’s back as he doubles over in a fit of giggles.

“Sounds like they’re having fun out there.” Nat raises a sarcastic eyebrow as she glances out the window. Angel turns to look, too, her eyes pulled to the soft glow of the porch under the string lights overhead, the setting sun just beginning to burn red and gold through the trees.

Sliding off her barstool, Wanda skips over to the sliding screen door that leads out to the deck, pulling it open just enough to stick her head through.

“What’s so funny?” she asks, nearly shouting to be heard over the boys’ loud hoots of laughter. None of them answer, still caught in the flush of whatever hilarity had set them all going. Rolling her eyes, Wanda tries again. “Hey! Are we at least ready to eat? I’m starving.”

“Yeah, yeah, kid, we’re pulling ‘em off the grill right now,” Clint sighs, wiping his eyes. Even from her place by the stove, Angel notices Bucky’s bright open smile, so rarely seen it makes her do a double take. His color his high, his tanned cheeks flushed an adorable shade of pink; his hair is still wet from the shower, combed back from his forehead in a way that’s almost boyish, the tips just beginning to dry in soft brown curls.

Swallowing thickly, Angel drags her eyes back down to the onions and turns the burner off.

They gather around the long picnic table on the deck, sliding and shuffling around each other, a veritable summer feast laid out in front of them. The boys at the grill didn’t disappoint: Sam proudly slides a platter of corn on the cob next to the kebabs he made, while Clint carries a tray piled high with fresh burgers (and turkey burgers, at Nat’s request). Toppings and sides come single file from the kitchen - fresh sliced tomatoes, crisp lettuce, fried plantains and guacamole. Bucky’s mouth waters with each new dish that arrives at the table, his knees jammed underneath the table next to Steve.

“This spot taken?”

Angel smiles as she slides into the seat across from him; she had washed her face when they got in from the lake, fresh and clean, and pulled an old college t-shirt over her swimsuit. The scent of her coconut lotion drifts across the table. Bucky clears his throat.

“N-no. Go ahead.” He wishes his smiles were half as warm as hers, half as easy and sweet.

Her nose scrunches as she beams a little wider at him and stretches her legs underneath the table, her ankle resting against his calf. The brush of their skin sets Bucky’s nerves on fire, and he keeps expecting her to move, to flinch away. But her leg stays where it is, resting against his, as they laugh and eat with their friends; and every so often when her eyes catch his he wonders if he’s imagining the spark in them.

**********

If it’s possible to get a concussion from tubing, Sam will have one by the end of the day.

Bucky’s head is already swimming and dizzy from being thrown from the inner tube half a dozen times, skipping across the surface of the lake like a stone - he’d always thought Steve was a wild driver on a bike, but in a boat, with two of his friends pulled behind and gripping the handles of a rubber tube? Steve is an absolute maniac.

Inside the boat, Angel leans against Steve’s seat and grips the railing to keep her balance, watching the boys behind them on their wild ride from hell.

“Are you sure you should be going this fast?” she speaks up, a little nervous. “Do you even have a boating license?”

“Don’t need one - I was born before the cutoff date, got grandfathered in,” Steve yells back over the engine and the rush of the waves underneath them. Glancing back and seeing Bucky and Sam still hanging on, he cuts the wheel sharply, the boat arcing through the water in a donut that sends them cutting over their own wake. From the boat, it’s a mild discomfort, the deck bouncing on each wave; from the tube, it’s game over.

She winces as it happens - the two of them go completely airborne on the tube, and with a final scream Sam loses his grip and tumbles sideways, knocking Bucky off into the water with him. Without their weight, the tube sways in the wind for a moment before it drops back to the water, upside down and empty.

“They’re down!” Wanda laughs, and Steve cuts the throttle down, idling slowly back to where the bright blue and green of life jackets bobs in the water a hundred feet away.

As they pull up alongside Sam and Bucky, Wanda drops the ladder and Angel makes her way to the back of the boat, pulling the rope to bring the tube back up to the boat.

“Oof,” Sam huffs as he hauls himself up the ladder, immediately unsnapping the buckles on his lifejacket. “I think I’m done - yeah. Yeah, I’m definitely done.” He shrugs the lifejacket off his shoulders and drops onto a seat at the front of the boat. “Hey, why don’t you get out there and let me drive, Steve?”

“Nah, I’m good,” Steve smiles innocently behind his sunglasses, his hair windblown and spiky. “I think I’m just getting the hang of driving this thing.”

“I think you need a little more practice, punk,” Bucky groans from the ladder. “But not with me back there. I thought Hydra scrambled my brains enough but-” he grabs a towel and scrubs the side of his head, trying to shake the water from his ears. “-you’ve got me mixed up like a fruit salad up here. Jesus.”

There’s always a downbeat, an awkward breath, when he makes jokes about Hydra. Steve winces a little, and Sam purses his lips; Wanda looks away, pushing her hair behind her ears. Bucky feels his cheeks flush, frustrated and embarrassed.

“It’s probably just early-onset Alzheimer’s,” Angel giggles, breaking the silence. “I mean, you’re pushing 102? 103?”

Chewing the inside of his cheek, Bucky narrows his eyes at her.

“I don’t look a day over 30, you know,” he huffs, feigning offense as he hip checks her on his way to the cooler for a beer.

“Ok, boomer,” she sighs. She’s wearing a necklace today, a single cowrie shell nestled at her collarbone, and she’s changed out the blue bikini for a tie-dye one that makes him thinks of cotton candy. With his metal hand, he snaps the cap off his beer and takes a swig, raising a brow towards her in question. Angel shakes her head. “I’m good - but I’ll take a water.”

They pass around the bottles of water, and a couple of snacks; it’s only early afternoon, and they’re loathe to waste any of the beautiful day, all of them sprawled across the boat, sunning themselves liberally. Wanda wonders aloud what they should do, if everyone is done getting roughed up on the tube.

“Well, we could drive around to the waterfall - maybe go cliff jumping,” Angel suggests, wiping watermelon juice from her chin. The huge Tupperware bowl of fruit they brought has gone down swinging between her and Steve, Sam picking through to find the strawberries.

“There’s a waterfall?” Steve sits up, a slice of cantaloupe in his hand. Angel nods, picking a seed from her teeth.

“Yeah, it’s around that way - not too far from here,” she turns and points around a bend in the shoreline, towards the north end of the lake. “We could at least just take a drive over there - the breeze would be nice.”

They all agree on that - it’s a cloudless day, brilliant and sweltering without the slightest wind to stir up the air across the water. Sam swipes his brow, more damp with sweat now than water, and takes a swig of his beer.

“Let’s go, Angel.” He raises his bottle in salute. “Before we all die of heatstroke.”

It’s a small waterfall, just a stream coming down from the hills surrounding the lake, and running faster today because of the last week’s rain; but the cove is lush and blooming with trees overhead, humming with the lazy buzz of insects and busy calls of birds. Angel kills the engine near the entrance and lets Steve drop the anchor - the water here is clean and deep, and the cliff face rises stark and bright out of the water, the rocks stained with age.

“Oh, wow - it’s so pretty,” Wanda smiles, snapping a picture of the waterfall with her phone.

“And quiet,” Bucky observes. He can’t hear the sounds of other boats on the water, the cries of other swimmers on the lake.

“Yeah, nobody ever comes back here,” Angel shrugs. “It’s kind of a secret little place - my family are always the only people here.”

One by one, they peel off their shirts and tug their lifejackets on, diving into the sun-warmed water. Angel leads the way towards the waterfall, showing them all a small break in the rocks with a natural set of steps and handholds she found with her brothers, and they climb up the rocks bit by bit, happily exploring.

“You ever climb all the way up there?” Sam asks, pointing to the top of the waterfall, where an outcropping of the rock juts out over the water.

“Yeah, a couple of times,” she nods, looking up. “We used to jump from the top. I never liked it much - I’m a little scared of heights.”

“Race you Tin Man,” Sam punches Bucky’s arm, and without waiting for confirmation, takes a running head start at the cliff wall, jumping up to the first handhold he sees and working his way up bit by bit. Bucky scowls, but not one to ignore a challenge, he follows close behind, overtaking Sam in a matter of minutes as he scales the wall with just his hands.

Hauling himself up over the edge, he stands above the waterfall, looking out over the lake. It’s still only mid-afternoon, and the glare of the sun on the water is nearly blinding. Far away, tiny boats circle and weave across the surface, their paths leaving figure 8’s in the waves. Below, he hears Wanda and Steve and Angel talking, cheering Sam on as he climbs the last few feet to the top.

“I win,” Bucky smiles as Sam’s huffing and sweaty face appears over the edge of the rock.

“I hate you,” Sam pants, but he takes the hand Bucky offers and scrambles up to stand beside him.

“Hell of a view.”

Sam props an arm on Bucky’s shoulder, an endlessly annoying habit he has, but Bucky refrains from smacking his hand away. They stare out at the water as Sam catches his breath.

“Yeah, it is.”

**********

When they finally make their way back to the boat, the sun has crept along the horizon towards the late afternoon angle, and their arms and legs ache from climbing the cliff walls over and over. Wanda massages her shoulders, slicking her hair into a little wet bun on top of her head. Angel follows behind her, dropping her lifejacket on her seat and wrapping a towel around her shoulders.

Last one up the ladder is Bucky, his arms heavy in the water, eyes stinging, but happily tired from a long day spent doing nothing important. He can’t remember the last time he got to do something like this - just be, just have fun, nothing hanging over his head and no thoughts of tomorrow. He pulls up the ladder after him, folding it onto the deck, and perches on the edge of a seat next to Angel, wondering where his towel has gone.

“Oh - oh, Bucky, you’re hurt,” Angel sits up and leans closer to him. He holds his breath, her face inches from his own - but her eyes are down on his hand.

His flesh hand, which is currently bleeding all over his bright blue swim trunks.

Shit. He hadn’t even noticed - hadn’t felt it at all, but he must have cut it on the climb. The cut runs cleanly through the pink flesh of his palm, welling blood that trickles down his wrist, mingling with the water that still clings to his skin. It triggers something, makes his brain stumble, the bright stain on his thigh - his shorts are probably ruined. He opens his mouth and starts to say something, but the sound sticks in his throat.

Smooth, soft fingers slide over his as Angel grabs his hand. Covering his palm with her own, she frowns down at the wound, as her hand starts to shimmer and glow. He feels the heat of her power soaking into his skin, brighter than the sunlight overhead. It starts to flow down his wrist, and he wants more of it - he wants to bask in it.

Too soon, though, it’s over. The cut wasn’t all that bad, and it only takes a moment to heal. But her hand lingers, palm brushing his, the tips of her fingers tracing his pulse on the delicate underside of his wrist, where the pale pink stain of blood lingers.

“Better?” she asks, looking up at him, long lashes shading her eyes. Tentatively, he allows his own fingers to trace her wrist.

“Yeah. Thank you,” he smiles.

“Any time.”

**********

That night, as the sun sinks down and the fireflies float lazily up from the warm ground, they gather around the fire pit in front of the house. Spread out in canvas lawn chairs, they toast their marshmallows on wire coat hangers, squishing them between graham crackers and chocolate squares. Steve is suspicious of the treat at first, unsure about the pairing and perpetually wary of sweets.

“Just try it,” Wanda rolls her eyes. “It’s the perfect treat, trust us.”

Skeptical, he sinks his perfect American teeth into the crackers, through the gooey marshmallow chocolate layer, the melted treat sticking to his lips as he pulls away. He chews thoughtfully, quietly, wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb as he considers. The rest of the group awaits his verdict, nestled in their chairs with their own s’mores.

“Yeah, okay,” Steve agrees, shoving the rest of the dessert into his mouth. He licks his lips appreciatively. “You’ve got a point there.”

“You know, I think you would’ve had to give up being Captain America if you didn’t like them,” Clint smirks, one cheek stuffed full. “I mean, who doesn’t like s’mores?”

“Yeah, but is that technically an American thing?” Sam wonders, reaching for the package of graham crackers.

“Well I’ve never had them anywhere else,” Wanda counters. She’s nursing her second pineapple ale of the evening - a drink she discovered when they stopped into a grocery store for supplies, and insisted on buying 2 packs to bring to the cabin with them.

Bucky isn’t paying attention to the Great S’mores Debate, not even a little bit. He can hardly hear them talking; he stares across the fire, warm sparks drifting like the fireflies above, as Angel licks chocolate from her fingers. The bright pink tip of her tongue darts out against her fingertips, savoring what’s left of the treat; he finds that his own mouth is parched and dry, a curious kind of hunger growling low in his belly, despite having had his own fill of dinner and s’mores. As she slips her pinky finger into her mouth, her eyes catch his from the other side of the flames, the firelight dancing in her eyes as she holds his gaze. The corner of her mouth twitches up just slightly, and she winks.

She winks.

Then, as the conversation takes another twist towards some kind of dessert or another, she quietly slips from her chair and walks away unnoticed, picking her way down the familiar trail to the dock in the dark.

Bucky glances around the group, and gauging that their conversation should serve as enough of a distraction, mutters some kind of excuse about needing the bathroom before getting up to follow.

Seconds later, Natasha turns to look at them - Angel’s form just visible between the trees and Bucky trailing along behind. She smiles widely over her beer, before settling back into her chair with a sigh.

“Finally,” she huffs, taking a sip. “Took them long enough.”

“Oh my god, right?” Sam raises his hands in exasperation. “I thought I’d hit my 100th birthday before that dickhead made a move-”

**********

She’s sitting at the edge of the dock, past where the boats are moored for the night, one knee tucked up under her chin as her other leg dangles with her toe in the water. She must hear him coming, his footsteps intentional and loud to his own ears on the wooden planks, but she doesn’t turn around. The lake is soft and still, wearing moonlight like a a silk robe, rippling reflected light across the surface. Above them the sky is cloudless and star-filled, cooled to a rich deep blue after the blazing bright day.

“Sometimes I would come down here at night with my dad,” she says, when he stands right behind her, unsure if he’s allowed to sit, if he should ask. She tips her head up over her shoulder. “We’d fish a little - threw them all back, though.”

“You didn’t keep ‘em?” Bucky asks, settling down beside her on the dock, letting his legs hang over the edge.

“No,” she shakes her head, scrunching her nose. “I felt sorry for them. Didn’t wanna hurt them, you know?”

He just watches her, the soft line of her profile in starlight, a smile blooming in his heart.

“Always been an angel, huh.” He doesn’t mean to say it, at least not out loud, but once it’s out he finds himself glad.

She looks at him then, not answering, but searching out his gaze with her eyes - they flit between his own, pupils wide in the dark. He licks his lips, wonders what she’s looking for, what she sees.

“Have you ever been night-swimming?”

Her question comes out of the blue, catching him off guard. He blinks - her mischievous eyes never leave his face.

“Um. I-I don’t remember,” he fumbles. “I think so. Way back, during the war. Not so much for leisure though,” he smiles ruefully. “I just knew I smelled awful and didn’t wanna risk being caught with my pants down, literally, in broad day.”

It startles a laugh out of her, a loud one, and his pride swells, inflating in his chest. The smile stays fixed on his face as he looks back out at the lake.

“Wouldn’t mind sometime, though,” he hints. “It’s beautiful out there at night.”

“Let’s go then,” she grins, using her hands to push herself up to stand above him. He blinks up, dumb at the flash of her smile.

“But, well…” he falters. “I should run back up to the house, I don’t have my trunks-”

“So?” she interrupts with a careless shrug. There’s something in her smile, and he doesn’t quite understand what she means until she reaches for the hem of her t-shirt and-

Oh. Oh.

Easy as that, smooth as a wave, she peels her shirt over her head, tossing it to the side. Her soft cotton bralette comes next, unhooked and slid down her arms, dropped onto the pile with her shirt. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, he swears, but he can’t bring himself to lower his gaze. She turns away with a little smile as she shimmies her shorts down, kicking them behind her to join the rest of her clothes, and he thinks he might combust if, oh god, there go her panties-

The cool splash of water as she jumps in jolts him back to himself, wakes him from the trance he fell into at the display of her body, her sweet summer skin, still smelling of coconut and watermelon. Her head bobs up a couple of yards past the dock, treading water.

“You coming or what?” she dares, feeling less bold now, but what the hell - she made her move.  The water has cooled since the sun went down, and a little shiver runs through her. Yes, she certainly made a move. She bites her lip and watches him, waiting, hoping.

When he stands, she holds her breath - will he leave? Will he turn her down? Will he still be her friend? Then he reaches a hand behind his back and tugs his shirt up over his head, throwing it down onto the dock next to hers.

He’s every bit as beautiful by moonlight as he is in broad day - she’s always thought so, but kept it to herself, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. Now though…she admires him, as she allowed him to admire her; watches closely every long line of his body revealed to her as he undresses, the golden tan he’s earned the last few days on the lake, the course hair covering his chest, the sliding shadows of muscle beneath his skin…

Before he can second guess himself, Bucky dives in and joins her, popping up out of the water just a few feet away and slicking his hair back from his face. She smiles, playfully backing away; he grins right back as he gives chase, following slow but determined.

“See? Fun, right?” Angel giggles, feeling her heart beat a wild rhythm and hoping he can’t hear it. Bucky chuckles back, not answering, swimming just a few inches closer. The outline of her body glows in the moonlight, though he tries not to stare beneath the water.

“You’ve definitely convinced me,” he agrees. They drift out a little further - still not too far from the dock or the shore, but their little game of cat and mouse leads them out several yards. “You bring all the boys out here? Is it gonna be Sam’s turn tomorrow?”

“Hm…I haven’t decided yet,” she muses, pretending to consider it. “I think I’d ask Steve first - unless you think he wouldn’t be game for it.”

“Trust me, I know Steve Rogers,” Bucky laughs. “He’d die of embarrassment.”

“You’re probably right,” Angel grins. “Then maybe it is Sam’s turn.”

“Aw, you’re breaking’ my heart, Angel,” Bucky pouts, giving her the full force of his baby blues, a look he only ever reserved for his mother. Angel doesn’t fall for it; instead, she rolls her eyes and splashes a handful of water right in his face.

“You’ll be fine,” she shrugs, but hides her smile by ducking her head half down, nearly concealed in the water.

“No, I won’t,” he insists. He’s barely a foot away from her now. “I’m wounded, Angel. Really. I’m real hurt - I need your help.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah - I may not survive. You gotta help me.”

“Well, I think that’s in my job description.” Her eyes are full of moonlight, her face inches from his own. “Where are you hurt?”

He grabs her hand and places her palm firmly over his heart.

“Right here, honey,” he whispers, silly grin firmly in place. “You hurt me real bad.”

On cue, her palm starts to glow, the light filtering up through the water in glittering ripples that flicker across their faces. Just over his heart, his skin warms at her touch, a surge of energy and light and life straight into him, deep and true.

“Anywhere else?” she asks, her own voice so soft, barely heard over the cicadas in the trees.

“Yeah…here.” Taking hold of her other hand, he draws her arms up around his shoulders. His smirk twitches. “Must’ve pulled something climbing those cliffs.”

“Uh huh, sure,” she rolls her eyes, but ignites her hands anyway, the healing warmth soaking into his sore muscles and the ever-tender skin surrounding his metal arm. Not one to complain, he never mentions the trouble it causes, constant weight on his shoulders and neck, often giving him tension headaches at the base of skull. But here she is, melting it all away with a touch.

Slowly, cautiously, he lets his hands slide around her waist, thumbs gently brushing her last rib. Beneath his palms he feels her breath stutter and catch, her heart picking up. Their feet accidentally kick one another as they attempt to keep treading water, and she lets him wrap one of her legs around his waist to keep from kicking her.

“Anything else?” she whispers. He traces her face with his eyes, unable to distinguish her own glow from that of the moon beaming down on them. With a slow nod, Bucky rests his forehead against hers, shares a breath.

“Here,” he says, and tilts his head the last couple of inches until his lips meet hers.

In an instant, he feels warm all over; though his eyes are closed, he can see the light behind them like sun through closed blinds. It nearly burns, hot and holy and aching sweet, and his toes curl with it. She breaks away for a moment, just to smile so blindingly, sunbeams breaking beneath her radiant skin - and dives back in, laughing into his mouth as he tightens his hold and her hands go to his hair.

Adrift in a summer-warm lake, under a swollen July moon, they kiss and laugh and touch and play.

Under a moon half as bright, they glow.

[ryqoshay]

Happy Life: Sweeter Than a Choir

Primary Pairing: YohaRiko Words: ~1.4k Rating: G AU: Angelic? Time Frame: Sometime after their college years Story Arc: Stand Alone Set: “Thank You” For Your Smile (HtHaN) Sweeter Than a Choir (HL) All I Can Say (TA)

Author’s Note: A second salvo for the seasonal scene barrage.

TheFallenAngel: Ne, Riri!

TheFallenAngel: One of my little demons just gifted me the new Christmas cosmetics pack!

TheFallenAngel: I know we have plans after dinner but do you mind if I stream before?

SakurauchiRiko: Of course you can stream

SakurauchiRiko: Have fun!

SakurauchiRiko: See you when I get home

“I’m home!” Riko announced as she walked in the door.

“Taste the minty wrath of Santahane’s Candy Scythe!”

Riko chucked to herself as she realized Yoshiko was already lost to the world as she focused on the game she was playing. Then, a grey dog and a black cat scampered around the corner into the entryway.

“Hey, Prelude, Phobetor.” She knelt to greet the pets of the apartment, offering both scratches behind the ears and under their chins.

After a minute or two, Riko took off her coat and boots and stored them before making her way to the living room. It came as no surprised that those watching the stream noticed her presence before Yoshiko.

“Uwah!” Yoshiko seemed to notice her girlfriend’s name being spammed in chat and glanced at Riko. “Hey, Riri! I’m almost do- Ha! Ring out! Fall into winter’s abyss! Santahane shall rain coal down after you for your naughtiness!” Her final taunt issued, she tossed her controller onto the cushion beside her and popped up off the couch. “Welcome home!” She spread her arms wide.

By the gods, she looks cute, Riko thought to herself as she fought down her embarrassment and stepped forward into her girlfriend’s waiting arms.

Yoshiko had apparently found an old outfit from one of their Christmas themed photoshoots back during their time with Aqours. Or perhaps she had made a new one in a similar style, Riko couldn’t quite tell. Either way, the bells and beads and poinsettias and cape and tiny hat, all in Christmas colors, suited Yoshiko well. And the tousled twin tail hairstyle was a pleasant change from her normal side bun.

It was all so adorable, Riko couldn’t help herself when she pulled back from the embrace just enough so she could reposition her head and lean down for a kiss. She tried to ignore the surge of notification sounds as cheers and subscriptions flooded in from the still-live stream.

Finally, Riko pulled away and turned toward the camera. “Hi, everyone!” She greeted cheerfully, hoping her blush was being kept to a minimum, though realizing it probably was not. “I know you’re all enjoying Yocchan’s bonus stream today, but I’m going to need to steal her back in a little while so we can decorate for the holiday.” She smiled as she skimmed some of the responses. “Hrm, we’ll see. I’m still not that good at fighting games, but perhaps I will join Yocchan next time. Maybe.” She turned to Yoshiko. “I’m going to go make dinner, so you have until then to keep playing.”

“Right!” Yoshiko grinned before pouncing back onto the couch and grabbing her controller. “Alright, who among you is willing to face Santahane to claim their place on the Nice list?”

Riko also smiled as she made her way to the kitchen. Over the years, she had become quite fond of listening to Yoshiko’s streams and occasionally even participating in them. But it hadn’t always been like that. The younger girl’s energy had, still to this day, the potential to overwhelm the more reserved older girl, but time and time again, Riko found herself drawn in by the enthusiasm. The smiles, the laughter, even the melodramatic antics. Riko had come to love it all.

“You can’t stop my Jingle Bell attack!”

Haughty laugher burst out from the living room as Riko assuming another little demon was felled at the hands of the skilled fallen angel. Yoshiko was obviously enjoying herself, which in turn was what Riko enjoyed watching, or listening to in this case.

“Yocchan!” Riko called. “Dinner is ready. Come help me set the table.”

“The time has come, little demons.” Yoshiko announced to her viewers. “Yohane must bid thee adieu, for now. But fret not! Thy master shall soon return! Pay heed to thy standard digital messenger systems so that thou might participate in our next gathering from across the void.”

A moment later, the blue-haired girl practically skipped into the kitchen, her cape flowing behind her and twin tails bouncing over her shoulders.

“Thanks for making dinner!” Yoshiko said, sliding in to set a shameless kiss on Riko’s cheek before gliding away to grab plates from the cupboard. Silverware and napkins were nabbed next and the winter holiday wrapped whirlwind spun out to the living room.

Riko followed the other girl with their meal and set it on the table before taking her seat.

“Itadakimasu!” Yoshiko clapped her hands together before reaching for her fork. “Mmm! Riri’s cooking is always the best!”

“I’m glad you like it.” Riko replied, taking her own first bite.

No matter how many times Yoshiko said as such, part of Riko continued to worry about making mistakes when she prepared meals. And of course she knew full well that Yoshiko would eat just about anything she made, despite, and sometimes because of said mistakes. Nonetheless, she doubted she would ever tire of watching Yoshiko enjoy the food she had made for her.

The notification for the Aqours group chat sounded on both of their phones.

“Someone must have finished decorating already.” Riko decided. “Should we check?”

Yoshiko agreed and retrieved her phone. “Ah, Ruby and Zuramaru.”

“It’s a lovely display.”

“Yeah, but we can out do them.”

Riko was about to point out that it wasn’t really a competition but was interrupted by Yoshiko laughing. She checked her phone to find Mari being scolded by Dia for her commentary while Kanan played an all-too-casual mediator. She set her device down to resume her meal but continued to listen to her girlfriend laugh as the situation unfolded.

It was a completely different laughter than earlier during the stream. Yohane’s laugh was hearty, deep and more than a little mischievous, while Yoshiko’s was gentler, purer and decidedly sweeter. Like her singing voice, the girl’s laughter had the range of an entire choir. And like her streams, Riko enjoyed listening.

After a few minutes, Yoshiko settled back down and the couple began chatting about various things like their respective days at work and what decorations they most looked forward to putting up. Once they were done, they both cleared their places and headed for the dining room.

“Ne, Riri,” Yoshiko spoke up “one of my little demons sent me a play list of Christmas parody songs. The ones I’ve listened to so far have been pretty funny. Do you want to listen? Otherwise, I have a more normal playlist prepared as well.”

Riko was about to choose the normal list when she realized the parodies would mean comedy. Comedy more than likely meant more laughter from Yoshiko. Suddenly, the weights shifted on her decision-making scale.

“The parody list is fine.” Riko agreed after a moment.

“Thanks, Riri!” She grinned. And with more flourish than was necessary, Yoshiko paired her phone to the stereo and started the music.

“I should be thanking you, Yocchan.”

“Huh?” Yoshiko tilted her head. “For what?”

Oh, had she said that out loud? Well, may as well tell her.

“For your laughter.” Riko started to explain. “For your smile. For your joyful energy that fills this place and makes it a home worth living in. For just, you know, being you. And for being with me.”

For a moment, it looked like Yoshiko might burst into tears, but just as moisture was starting to gather at the edges of her eyes, she blinked it away. “Riri~!” she cried, launching herself at Riko.

Having mostly anticipated this reaction, Riko caught the other girl and pulled her into an embrace.

“You’re welcome! And thank you!” Was all Riko heard before Yoshiko became incoherent.

Riko contented herself by running her hands through curled twin tails while Yoshiko babbled into her shoulder. However, it wasn’t long before what she thought was a classic carol started to play and Yoshiko chuckled. A moment later, she pulled away. Magenta eyes shone like the lights the couple was about to hang.

“This one is one of my favorites.” Yoshiko said excitedly. “I think you’ll like it too, Riri.”

“Alright, I’ll be sure to pay attention to the lyrics.” Riko assured. “Shall we start decorating?”

Yoshiko agreed and the couple started opening boxes. Another Christmas season was underway and Riko quietly prayed for a hundred more to come, each as wonderful as the last.

Author’s Note Continued in Followup Post

[hobbitsnapes]

The Red Hoods Protègè chapter 14

Older Damian Wayne x ofc

(Photo made by my lovely friend @tyuuniverse)

Summary:Red hood has taken a young vigilante under his wing and subsequently changes Damians life forever. (I suck at summary’s)

The smell of burgers and general grease wafted the room as soon as Jason and her stepped in. The sound of workers and people muffling the busy cars right outside. They both took their usual seat in the back, preferring to be there rather than up front. Each Sunday Sandy and Jason took what they call their, ‘dad daughter day’ and went out to eat here. Jason took her to the ever so famous bat burger the day he adopted her, and ever since then they come once a week. Maybe not the healthiest thing they could do, but with all the physical activity they do they never worry. But this night in particular was a special night for them.

They always joked about the red hood hotdog, usually getting it and finding it funny that out of all the foods, they chose a hot dog. Well after almost a year being out alongside Jason on patrol, people started noticing her. She was called ‘the red hoods robin.’ And it was announced the popular food chain would be adding a side dish to the red hood dog, a side of archangel wings. They both laughed as they got them because they were in fact just the wings.

They both sat and enjoyed their respected meals, joking around as they usually do. Both of them enjoying themselves and truly just feeling like a father and his daughter.

They both finish their meals after some time, walking out back to his bike. She turns to him, grabbing her helmet and placing it on. “Hey since it’s still early, wanna go to the pier?” He asks, usually they would only go out to dinner. But they decided to go out earlier than normal, having not to go out tonight due to their promise to spend the day as normal as possible. “Sure, I don’t think I’ve been there before?” She replies, wondering if she had been there before as a child. She isn’t able to recall a time she had been before, possibly during the night with Jason but never during the day when she was able to see.

And that’s where they spent most of their day. The pier hadn’t been that large but they made do. They threw rocks, watched as all the many boats swam by, and walked around. As the day grew to evening, and the already cool air became more noticeable, the chill in the air swam around their clothes, they decided to head home.

Never did they think walking into the once lonely and blank apartment that they now called home, would look like it did now. The walls that once were blank that held photos, now all torn to shreds. Glass and wood Scattered around the floor.the wood coffee table they just got, broken into shards of wood. Their tv broken on the ground. Their couch, cut up to pieces. Everything they had built, broken.

Shock and disbelief filled them along with a dick feeling in their stomach. Their hearts dropping but accelerating as it set in. Someone has found them.

Jason turns to her, tears filling her eyes, handing her his gun. “Go look in every room. If you hear anything, scream as loud as you can.” She nods her head, grabbing the gun and slowly walking out of the living room.

Jason looks around the room, looking for any clue whatsoever of who could have done this. And Jason got his answer, Nestled in between the cracked floorboards near the broken couch. Horror filled him as his stomach and heart felt as though they both would expel from his body.

He grabs for his phone, dread filling him as sweat beads down his forehead. This goes against everything he’s built up to do in the last 3 years. His mind screaming at him not to do this. That it’ll only end in pain. But that one voice, the one that screamed at him the moment he saw her over the ledge, the one who screamed at him to help her, the one who told him to protect her, made the answer for him as he dialed the memorized number.

“Hello? Who is this?” Said Bruce, jason's heart dropping into his stomach. Feeling panic rise up to his neck. Bruce asked who is it again, an edge to his voice now. Jason lets out a shaky breath, he has to do this, for her. “This is the last number I thought I’d call. But this is my only option I have.” “J-Jason? I-I how did you rem-” “don’t you remember a part of my training was to memorize this number. I couldn’t forget it if I tried. Now cut the crap with the shock bruce. I, have to ask you for something.” “What is it?” Jason swallowed the pit forming in his throat. “Our apartment, it was broken into. Everything, and I mean everything, is broken. I sent her to go search around here and out back. I-I wouldn’t be doing this if I thought I could protect her. But I know I can’t. Not by myself. It-it’s bad Bruce. I need her to stay there for a while, I can’t be out there trying to figure out what to do whilst also trying with everything in me to protect her. We’ll be there in an hour. If we aren’t there by 10, come looking for us.” “I’ll have alfred ready one of the rooms. But Jason, what about her and-“ “I’ll talk to her. I’m one of the only people she’ll listen to.” Bruce sighs. “See you in an hour.” Jason hangs up the phone, ready for the hell he's about to walk into.

“Did you find anything?” Jason asks as he steps into the room. Tears filling his eyes as he sees her once beautifully decorated room, torn upside down in shambles. “I didn’t, it’s like they wiped everything clean of evidence. Hey, what’s wrong dad?” It’s as if they are so in tune with one another that they can read by just their face that there’s something wrong. Her big blue eyes wide as she looks at him. He lets out a shaky breath. “I don’t want to do this. But there’s nothing else I can do.” “What is it?” She asks, putting her hand on his arm. “I know I’ve always said how strong, and capable you are. And you always will be. But, this is something even I’m scared of. I, I need you to stay at the manor for a while.” Her once worried face, turns to disbelieve and anger. “What? You can’t be serious dad. Don’t you remember he’s-“ “yes. I know he’s there. But this isn’t a debate. I can’t be out there looking around and finding out who did this.” Anger bubbles up her throat. Her hands shaking by her sides. “And I’ve been fighting alongside you for over a year. And I went under the radar for another year on the streets. Do you have ANY idea how much it’ll hurt to live there with him there!” “AND DONT YOU THINK IT HURTS ME TO PUT YOU THERE!? Don’t you think it makes my blood boil to have to stay under the same roof as the boy who broke my daughters heart? Don’t you think I’d do ANYTHING to find another place to bring you? I would’ve already done it if I could. These people aren’t just regular robbers. They found out our identity, found where we live, and recanted this entire place. For all we know they could’ve bugged the entire building! I’d do anything to keep you from them. But I know that they are our best option to make sure we both aren’t killed. I know you’re smart, I know you're strong. But at the end of the day, you aren’t my partner. You’re my daughter. And I’m your father. And I love you and I know that this is the safest place on the earth for you right now. I wouldn’t be doing this if I had any other option sandy.” Tears fell down both their faces. Realization dawning on both of them what has to happen. She hugs him tightly. Clutching to him as they both cry. “When do we leave.” She asks. “We need to be there by 10. I need you to pack essentials and be at the back door in 10 minutes. Grab only what you need. I’ll bring you up everything else in a few days.” Tears fell down her eyes into his shirt. “Okay.”

The air in the car is thick as they drive down the road. Jason has an emergency car down in a storage shed a block away from their apartment. Exactly for situations like these. Tears fell down both their faces, neither speaking a word. Their hearts and stomach falling the further they go.

The thick trees surround them, a dark blanket of darkness coats the area that the headlights can’t reach. Smooth pavement creating a steady drive the closer they get. Their tears had dried by now. But the ever growing anxiety growing in both of them as the y’all manor looms over the tall trees. Growing larger the closer they get.

Lights illuminate from the windows into the dark night. The tall building high up into the sky as they stop. She had seen plenty of photos of the ever so popular but private estate. But it’s as if the photos were nothing but a mear copy of the truly beautiful building. But that didn’t stop the feeling of vomit growing up their throats the longer they look at it. They turn to one another. Tears filling their eyes again. “Alright, lets go.”

The sound of their boots clicking along the brick ground the only sound as they approach the double doors. They step up to it, Jason reaching his hand out to the door handle before it was opened. An elderly man dressed in a suit answered. A faint smile etched on his face when his eyes met Jason. “Welcome. Master Bruce and everyone is down in the cave waiting for both of you.”

The long hallways were dark, only being lit through the doorway leading into the Library.

The room was nothing but from a fairytale. Long and tall bookshelves filled to the brim lined all the way up to the ceiling. Every inch of the walls were filled with a book.

Jason and sandy walked over to one book in particular. It wasn’t bright in color, or new or old looking. Just an ordinary book. But when Jason pulled it, a rumble was heard from the bookshelf.

A doorway was opened, like one of those secret passageways in a castle.

The walk down the many steps was dark, saved only by a light at the end of it. Their feet padded against the stairway the only sound to be heard, besides the loud beating of their hearts. The pair looking at one another when they reached the last step.

The large cave was filled with computers, a few tables, glass casings, and much more. 6 people stood in the middle of it. Sandy only recognizing 2.

Damian watched as her and Jason walked in, her eyes flashing to his but just as quickly darting away. A pain shot through his chest at the obvious pain in her face when she looked at him. Her eyes flashing pain and shining with unshed tears before going back to normal when she looked at jason. Jasons eyes bore into both Damian and Bruce’s. His stare burning when he looked at Damian.

Jason let out a large sigh as he looked at everyone. What he once called his family, now almost complete strangers staring at him like he has 3 heads. “I’m guessing Bruce already told you guys what happened. Correct?” He asks, everyone nodding their heads. “I’m gonna be honest. You guys are the last fucking people I want her to be around. If I could, I’d erase every single one of you from my memory. But, I know there’s no other option I have to keep her safe. So for a while, she’ll be staying here. But that doesn’t mean you can recruit her to be a part of this, team.” Jasons eyes bore holes into Bruce when he said this. “Sandy is very strong, stronger than you’d think. She’s smart. Don’t underestimate her. Now, there’s some rules I have for you all in regards to her. Just because she isn’t a part of your team, doesn’t mean you don’t watch out for her. After all she is new to this still. But that doesn’t mean you baby her. Trust me on that. You’ll treat her with respect. Anyone having a bad day and decides to take it out on her, and I find out, you’ll be dealing with me. And above all, you.keep.her.safe. You all have done a horrible job at it in the past. But if she EVER gets hurt, either by one of you or what you didn’t do, I’ll make what I did to him look like child’s play.” Jasons eyes burned into Damian when he said this. His eyes burning with hatred and anger at him.

“This will be your room, Miss Todd. I hope it’s to your liking.” Says Alfred. The room was lavish. The size alone was larger than her and Jasons living room. A large plush queen size bed in the middle of it. A large bay window out looking into the front yard. Covered by silk blinds. The floor was a dark oak, but mostly covered by a large dark brown rug. A table that could fold into a vanity sat in the corner by the bathroom. Right next to it was a door leading to a large closet. A small nightstand stood beside her bed on each side.

She turns to Alfred, her eyes searching into his. “Thank you. It’s lovely.” “I do apologize, this is one of the only rooms on this flooring. It is 3 doors down from master Damians room. If you would like I could ready a room upstairs if you are uncomfortable.” “No thank you, as long as I don’t have to walk past his I’ll be fine. Thank you for asking though.” “It’s not a problem miss. Dinner was served earlier, I could come and bring you some if you are hungry.” Her eyes looked into his again, a soft warm smile painted on his face. “I’m honestly not that hungry for anything right now. With everything that’s happened today, I’d honestly rather just go to bed.” She looks away and sets her bag onto her bed. “As you wish miss Todd. And just so you know.” He sets his hand on her shoulder. “If you need anything, there’s a button and speaker right by your bed. It’ll ring to me if you need anything. Don’t hesitate to call if you need anything, even just to talk. You are just as welcome here as everyone. That includes your father too.” His eyes looked into her tear filled ones. A smile formed on her face. “Thank you Alfred. I really appreciate it.” He walked away from her and to the door. Wishing her a goodnight.

Tags: @comic-nerd-dc @comic-brew @psychovigilantewrites

[antiques-for-geeks]

Game Review: Beyond the Forbidden Forest

Cosmi / 1985 / C64

‘An archer took a stroll through the deep dark wood…’

With one eye firmly on Halloween, we’re going to review some games that used to make us breathe heavily, grasping our joysticks tightly in our sweaty palms…

Beyond the Forbidden Forest starts dramatically with flashes of lightning against a starlit sky. With every flash comes a crack of thunder from the C64’s SID sound chip, before the title of the game is revealed against the darkness. It’s obvious even at this point that the game's author, Paul Norman, was aiming for something much more cinematic than the average computer game of the era.

You start, alone, in an overgrown forest. You are an archer, sent to slay the dreaded Demogorgon, who legend says can only be killed by a golden arrow to the heart.

Your character occupies the middle of the screen. You can walk through the forest to the left and to the right. You can also walk into and out of the scene. Sometimes trees or bushes can obscure your view. There’s a primitive parallax scrolling effect so that the trees in the foreground move more quickly than those in the background, which could charitably be described as decent for the time.

There’s nowhere to actually ‘go’ in this game, and the forest isn’t there to be explored. You’re not really alone, you see. This forest is actually the scene of a desperate fight for survival.

The first creature you encounter is the scorpion. The scorpion will enter from the side of the screen and will rush straight at you. Like all this game's enemies, he gets his own special musical theme that plays during the encounter. This is where you run away! If he reaches your archer he’ll messily jab your organs out with his stinger, to the accompaniment of a kind of musical shrieking noise generated by the SID. Imagine something like a primitive version of the score that plays in Alfred Hitchcock's ‘Psycho’ when Janet Leigh gets stabbed in the shower. This game doesn’t pull any punches for its death scenes, that’s for sure.

It’s behind you!

Luckily your archer can defend himself with his bow. Hold down the fire button and you’ll stand in place, aiming around the scene. A grey indicator bar moves up and down showing the elevation of your shot. Simply let the fire button go again to let loose an arrow. As you might imagine, it’s hard to keep away from a scorpion who is intent on perforating your innards while also stopping to pepper it with arrows, but this retreat, aim and fire mechanic is all a part of the game’s charm.

Plug the scorpion a few times and you get presented with a golden arrow, which appears from a spinning orb after an overly long fanfare plays. These golden arrows are important; you need to collect at least 4 to progress to the next stage of the adventure, and they also act as your ‘lives’. Every time the archer is killed you lose half of the stash of golden arrows, until the game is over. You will get very tired of hearing the victory fanfare, I assure you.

The next foe you meet is a massive worm, who rises out of the ground at various places in the foreground and background. Let him rise too many times without hitting him and he’ll swallow you whole, reappearing to regurgitate the bow, along with a healthy fountain of archer blood.

After that is a giant mosquito, who darts around the sky. He only takes one hit, but is tricky to get a bead on. He’ll drink your juices like a milkshake if he gets a chance, leaving only a crumpled heap on the forest floor.

Last up is… some kind of demonic frog / crocodile thing… who’ll jump about unpredictably and will mash your body like a pub piano at closing time.

He’s hungry for your offal.

One nice touch is the way that the game shows the passage of time in the forest. The sun sets, and eventually night comes, with the colours of the trees and sky changing appropriately. The day to night cycle welded to the ability to move in and out of the scenery prompted Cosmi to market this game as having ‘OmniDimension 4D`. This was sadly typical of the shameless bullshit marketing departments would churn out in the 80’s.

Once these 4 different foes are defeated, it’s back to the scorpion again, in an effort to gather enough golden arrows for an assault on the caverns, which lie... beyond the forbidden forest. See? Although 4 arrows are technically enough to progress, you’ll want more than that to have a realistic shot at what comes next. To progress to the caverns, you have to to pause the game with F1 and then press F3. If you don’t do this the forest encounters repeat until you die or your patience runs out.

Once within the caverns you face off against 3 final foes.

The Bats: A group of bats flutter around the cave. One of them is a golden colour, and that’s the one you need to shoot. You only need one hit, but it’s flight is fast and unpredictable.

The Hydra: This four headed monstrosity fills the entire screen! Each head can shoot fire, and you’ve got to dodge about to land a hit on each one. Succeed and he’ll stop moving and turn to stone.

The Demogorgon: Squatting over a pit, this massive beast follows your movements with his head, shooting deadly bolts from his eyes that will disintegrate you instantly. Shoot him in his glowing heart to win the game and free the land from his evil!

I appear to have misplaced my skin.

Beyond the Forbidden Forest surely must be the most ‘‘Commodore 64ish’ game of all time.

Chunky blocky graphics? Very. Lots of muddy browns and muted greens? None muddier. Bone rattling soundtrack courtesy of the SID chip. All present here.

It was also creepy, atmospheric, and with all the sudden and violent deaths, really quite nasty… for a computer game of the 80’s at least.

Trivia

This is the sequel to ‘Forbidden Forest’, which is probably a bit better known and generally held in slightly higher regard (even by the game’s author). There was a third game in the series released in 2003 for Windows PC. It’s a third person 3D effort, which sadly looks pretty generic and uninteresting. There aren’t even any gory death scenes!

Playing it today

Only released on the C64, and copies are getting rarer. Easily emulated, but bear in mind that the function keys are important on this one.

Commentariat

Meat: This game could be the poster child for anyone who considers C64 graphics to be dull and unappealing, but behind the ugly front there’s a lot to admire here. The ‘gore’ is also hilarious! With the notable exception of the head chopping in Palace Software’s ‘Barbarian’, games of the era were very timid in their depictions of graphic violence. I guess this is about as close as we were going to get to a survival horror game in the 80’s...

Pop: I got this one on a magazine cover tape, and was immediately hooked on its strange atmosphere, shocks and gory death scenes. I was a latecomer to the C64, and by that point these graphics really looked like a dog’s dinner. Despite that I still found myself playing this game quite a bit. Aiming the bow at enemies in the foreground and background feels a little tricky initially, but it can be mastered. My main issue now is how long the player resurrection and golden arrow presentation scenes take. Skipping repetitive cutscenes was a luxury you were so rarely afforded in those days.

Sadly I never went ‘beyond’ the forest, because I didn’t have a clue that the keyboard was required to progress to the next stage of the game.

Score card

Presentation 8/10

Starting with the fantastic cinematic introduction screen, this is a game that goes the extra mile to involve the player in its world. There’s even a proper ending sequence with its own musical theme. The various versions of box artwork are all, however, distinctly amateurish.

Originality 8/10

Made before all games started to look and feel the same, this is obviously the work of a single individual. It doesn’t look, sound or play like any other game of the time… except perhaps for its own prequel.

Graphics 6/10

Undeniably ugly, blocky, untidy and muddy. Also somehow atmospheric and appealing. The screen filling hydra is a pretty impressive piece of work for the time. Gets an extra point for splashing the pixelated claret about.

Hookability 7/10

From the first moment the scorpion scuttles over and messes you up with its stabber you’ll either want to see what other horrible fates await you in the forest… or switch the computer off in disgust.

Sound 9/10

A series of memorable tunes, played by the C64’s SID chip in the style of a demented horror film organ. Though it’s somewhat crude, few soundtracks at the time were better suited to the on-screen action.

Lastability 7/10

It takes some time to get used to hitting the different foes with your arrows, but there are ultimately only 7 different types of enemy to face in this game. Despite that, it puts up a decent challenge, and you'll want to make it to the caverns to see what horrors are lurking in the darkness.

Overall 7/10

A game with plenty of quirks and flaws, which it overcomes by sheer force of personality.

[alitheamateur]

The Grind-Chapter 28

The eve of fight night fell, and Colton was exhibiting extremely peculiar behavior. Not a bad type of peculiar necessarily, but the man just wasn’t his usual self. When I woke up to head for a swim at Temple, the bed was empty on his side and he hadn’t left a note, or word with my parents as to where he disappeared off to. In fact, according to mom, he must’ve left the house before 6 a.m. when she and dad left for their walk. It was a routine they had with the dog back home, and they had been continuing the morning exercise while on their visit to the city.

When I got to my locker at the gym, there was a single Peony taped to the handle, and a square yellow note tied to it’s stem. The easily identified chicken scratch belonged to the missing man in question, so I tore it open jaggedly to gather some answers.

   Livvy,

Enjoy your swim, & don’t you dare think of doing anything in the weight room. I told Cal to watch you. You have a noon appointment with that girl who does your hair, & a 10 a.m. massage too. I have some stuff to take care of today but be at home and dressed by 6 tonight. Wear that white dress I like.  The one from that party at the Pilot a couple months ago. And don’t eat. I’ll check in later. I LOVE YOU

C

Colton had been a lot of things the last year, but romantic was a new side. He rendered me speechless from heartbreak, pleasure, and laughter on a fair amount of occasions, but this was unfamiliar lands.  Never did I believe such a cynical, wild, tormented soul like his could conjure up the cleverness or the desire to throw together whatever plan he had in the works. But I’d obey the orders, and call mom to steam the crisp white, ankle-length, summer gown he referred to from the office gala event he suffered through as my plus-one, and it’s also the first instance he suckered me into bathroom sex in the family stall. The thin, flesh-hugging stretch of the drapery curved into me, and the low-cut of the back allowed him a subtle peep-show during the owners speech, which had him nearly feverish for a taste of me before the main course was served. I was chatting with Ryan who was seated at our dinner table, when Colton told me I looked a bit peaked and needed a few minutes of good ol’ fresh air. Thoroughly confused, I followed his lead as he took my hand guiding me through the bar area into the public pavilion of the venue. The details are a bit foggy, but I can’t forget the memory of his thirsty tongue licking a bead of summertime sweat from the valley between my breasts.

I concluded on returning to my natural blonde look at the salon, and sang the praises of the on-staff masseuse at SJS Salon on my way out the door. The unwind of my slow laps in the therapy pool, and the exceptional massage had me exuding peaceful relaxation. After the continual sessions’ day & night at the gym, in the cage, in the weight room, at the Pilot, some self-love and spa time was the perfect prescription for a Zen Liv. And I wanted all my tensions free and clear before I met up with Colton for this mysterious evening ahead, so I could fully enjoy the company of my perfectly imperfect companion. Wherever the pathway of our evening led, I knew I’d retire home once it was said and done feeling cherished, and probably horny.

I was puckering to smooth out a plentiful layer of rose-shaded smudge proof lipstick at my lighted vanity when I saw my mother peep around the unlatched door. I looked away from my own reflection to see hers smiling back at me from over my shoulder, as she brushed my hair back curious to discover my earring choice. This overly-feminine, lady-like and sophisticated side of her only child was a glimpse of the daughter she wanted 10 years ago when I was wearing sweats to school every day, and only wore heels for prom or homecoming dances. Mom stayed dressed to the nines every day of the week whether it be a run to the post-office or even a check of the mailbox, so seeing the vision of herself even more so in me now with sleek hair, and a posh taste in stilettos was probably the proudest she had been in a decade.

“Honey, you look excellent! Your little nose healed up just perfectly too, I see.”

Of course, mother. That’s what most important, ay’?

“Yep. It feels fine now. Thanks, mom.” I pursed my mouth, tucking both lips in a stark line and misted a lavish amount of Colton’s favorite perfume onto the exposure of my neck.

“Do you have any ideas what Colton has planned for you? You’re dressed awfully formal.” My mother asked turning her head to survey the final touches of accessory to my ensemble.

“He told me what to wear, and when to be ready to go, so that’s about the most I’m aware of. He’s been pretty shady today. And we both know he’s developed a keen talent for lying lately, seeing as how he managed to get you and daddy here.”

The last text I received from him at 2 o’clock that afternoon was a strange selfie of he and Andrew at the forefront of an impressive Styrofoam cup pyramid they’d apparently built on the display counter at The Grind. Those two had become quite the odd pairing lately, but I was happy Colton jived so well with at least one of my friends. I assumed he just went by the shop for his usual black coffee to-go, and Drew simply asked his assistance on a new merchandise display, which turned into the two of them goofing.

Mom checked her waterproof, step counting watch for the time as she followed be into the bedroom I shared with Colton. “It’s 5 minutes to 6 right now, Livvy. Have you talked to him?”

My heels clacked when transitioning from the carpet, to the tile down the hall. I clicked the unlock button of my cell to place a call to the very man sitting on an arm of the couch in an open stance, with those hefty forearms pushing in his knees. He stood upon hearing the soft tick of my heels step over the rug under the coffee table, and I was able to get a much desired, exploratory look at the very, very surprising dapper two-piece suit he sported. It was an oxford blue, atop a slightly wrinkled button-down shirt that he left casually, and very appealingly gaping open just enough to taunt me with his pecks. He was explicitly, lethal and delicious in the foreign dress of any sort of formal attire. Maybe more so even than those perfectly snug gray sweats I pulled off him on many an ‘afternoon delight’ occasion. That is, assuming I have to have him clothed at all.  

“Well hello there, Mr. Ritter. Someone is looking exceptionally handsome tonight, I see. I must say you wear this look well, babe.” I admired, pulling on the lapels of his jacket to situate the wrinkle of his shirt. I tenderly grazed a manicured nail over the freshly shaved goosebumps of his neck, and smiled romantically looking up to him under extended lashes.

“You two enjoy yourselves! Tony and I are going to grab some dinner, and we’ll lock up when we get back. I’m sure it’ll be a late night for you guys,” mom spoke up, still standing behind me undetected. Colton tilted around me to smile appreciatively at her before she turned in pursuit of the spare room where dad was napping.

“Will you ever walk into a room ‘n not instantly have me wantin’ to rip off whatever you wearin’, baby? You look…you look fuckin’ perfect, Liv. I mean that.” He fiddled with the every-day, dainty, gold letter pendant I wore as he spoke, then touched his pointer finger to the heart-shaped opening at the center of my satiny lips.

I wondered reasonably if we’d ever even make it passed the 4 walls of our bedroom seeing the adamant, alluding examinations we were trading in the silence of our family room.

“As long as you promise to replace whatever it is you just have to rip off, then be my guest by all means.” I popped one shoe-covered foot into the air, and boosted up on the other desperate to touch myself to his mouth.

“Get. The hell. Out. That. Door. Now. With ya’ teasin’ little ass.” Colton palmed the front of my dress to clutch over the warmness of my womanly center.

We altered his plan a bit, and decided my car would be the most practical option for transportation considering the height of my designer heels. Once we exited the driveway, I couldn’t help but blast him with pestering questions, and chatting.

“Just sit tight, ‘ight. We ain’t far. You can hold out a few minutes, Livvy. A surprise here ‘n there ain’t gonna kill ya’.”

I unhappily sat tight as advised and waited a drawn out 10-minute car ride that steered us to a parking meter on the street near The Grinds’ entrance on the sidewalk. The white light of the ‘open’ sign that would’ve typically been plugged in the window was powered off, along with the appearance of any other lights, or evidence of business behind the door.

“Colt? What are w-“

“No more questions, okay? Hold on.”

I watched him shove my keys from the ignition inside the pocket lining of his coat, to jog around and assist me from the passenger seat onto the concrete walkway.  I smelled something fishy, but I couldn’t place a sure finger on it just yet. With one arm clinging around my average size waist and the other holding my hand, we waited for the street sign to change then scurried along the crosswalk. Colton confirmed the time on his watch just as he gestured me to enter the strange darkness of the generally busy coffee shop.  

I couldn’t move much passed the entry mat laying in front of the doorway due to the pitch darkness of the room, so I waited intriguingly for my next instructions. Colton moved in behind me and stepped straight for the location of the light switch he was apparently familiar with. Rather than the hardwired overhead lights of the café igniting with the flipping on of electricity, twinkling, warm garden decorations on green strands taking their place. The dusky glow hanging over our heads bared a table for two waiting empty in the middle of the open floor, and some sort of urbane, bubbly beverage sweating inside a tin bucket of ice. Calm, lazy melodious music struck up, and I finally escaped my confusion to scan for Colton.

“These a’ for you, baby. The best, for the best.”

He offered me a familiar a pink, fluffy bouquet which had become his apparent staple over the last year, and I could smell the odorous fog from gift laying in my arms. Taking a closer look over his face, I noticed he’d groomed up exceptionally precise, and his beard had been combed and trimmed. Colton Ritter may have even been wearing hair product, Ladies and Gentlemen. His matured facial lines, and the barely detectable softening sag around his eyes added a story-telling detail to his aging mug, but I admired every frown line, and ghosting scar.

I rested my arms over his shoulders, dangling the hefty bouquet in my hand behind his back to settle in for a lengthy embrace when a begging, muffled reverberation of hunger grumbled from my empty stomach.

“Well, you did tell me not to eat, silly!” I patted over my angry insides to stifle its interruption.

“I got just the thing to fix ya’ right up. Here. Let’s get you in a seat and I’ll be back.” He took my hand, and I took the seat he offered up, placing the flowers in a waiting vase at the center of his table spread.

Colton lit four small tea-light candles with a zippo frim his pants pocket, and kissed the crown of my freshly washed hair.

“I like the blonde, by the way,” he winked dragging his feet backwards to disappear into the back kitchen.

A few clanging plates and some ruffling feet could be heard as I sat legs crossed, and chin rested on my elbows. Mother Liz always cut my arms with a slap when I would prop my elbows up onto the tables, chastising my etiquette or lack thereof. I repeatedly listed off a careful list of the ‘important dates’ to mark the many milestones of our relationship to assure I hadn’t forgotten some crucial event on this day. There had to be some reason Colton had gone to such odd, starry-eyed measures, and my nosey, sharp-witted journalistic side was beating me to death to get to the real story hidden under wraps.

STOP IT! Let the man have this. Don’t ruin it because you’re a meddlesome pest who can’t just enjoy a surprise.

Just then, a smell so aromatic and reeking of garlic wafted like a puffy cloud of deliciousness into my nose. I inhaled deeply through my nostrils to trace the yummy culprit, and found the man exiting a revolving door that hid the kitchen. He had two enormous, blotchy, grease-stained pizza boxes marked from my very favorite deep-dish joint stacked in one arm, and a covered Dutch oven dish cradled in the left arm. Colt’s tongue peeped like the head of a snake from the corner of his mouth, walking strategically careful so not to drop the hot contents of his clutches.

“So, since you trained so hard, and it nearly killed ya’ cuttin’ out all those carbs, I figured you’d maybe want some’n downright filthy ‘n covered in cheese to hit the spot. Drew tried to tell me I should get some fancy takeout from that place you two are always goin’ to, but I knew this would suit ya’.”

He opened one of the boxes to reveal a cheese deep-dish smothered in sliced, tender black olives.

“You want me to eat the whole thing?” I chuckled with a large goading laugh, and quarter-sized eyes.

“One fa’ you,” he answered sitting himself to open the other cardboard box in his place setting. “’and one fa’ me.” Colton rubbed his hands together anxiously, like a giddy boy about to dive into an ankle-deep mud puddle.

“But you may wanna save a lil’ room for this too, baby.”

I watched as he pulled the sturdy lid from top the black dish, and fluffy, warm steam rolled from the inside. Peeping over the edge in anticipation, I discovered a dark chocolate, gooey treat, topped with whole praline pecans and stringy caramel drizzles.

“Colt, you made that? All by yourself?!” I smiled adoringly when the look of utter pride beamed from his coy face.

It was a turtle dessert my mom taught me to make, and my absolute favorite. Colton had stayed been at my old apartment one night, back before the fight, and said he needed a ‘sugar fix’. The city was covered in powdery snow and muck, with temperatures reaching their lowest degree all winter. Neither of us could stand the thought of leaving the warm solace of my couch, so I whipped up that same dessert for him. We demolished the entire contents straight from the dish, sharing a spoon for vanilla bean ice cream on the side.

“Liz wrote the ingredients down for me, but I remembered pretty well how you made it that night. Don’t be gettin’ all wound up before ya’ even taste it now,” he tittered taking his first bite of pizza.

 We ate majority of each cheesy pie, (him asking for a slice of mine) then hysterically cackled for a good half hour after he sampled (and gagged on) a swig of my favorite merlot from a local winery. When our favorite Bob Dylan tune struck up on his iPod, I asked him to dance, and he obliged hugging me tightly with one arm, and gnawing on the last piece of pizza he clutched to in the other. The raw, real-life imperfections of the moment that would’ve had most females curling a lip in disgust, and trouncing far, far away from a man with such qualities as Colton Ritter, only had me needing his presence in my life more so.  

“How’d you pull this off Ritter? I must say, I didn’t know you had it in ya’, babe.” I muffled with a full mouth of his well-made chocolate cake as I dabbed the corners of my mouth.

“Just called in a favor to my pal Andrew, no biggie. The bastard only made me pay him 200 bucks to make up for his ‘lost profit.’” Colton used his most sardonic air quotes to underline Andrew’s no doubt tantrum for his role.

“You been workin’ so damn hard, Livvy. And I just wanted to do somethin’ to make you feel special. Help ya’ relax and take the edge off of a lil’ about tomorrow night. ‘N judging by those sexy, heavy little wine eyes you been givin’ me, I’d say I did a fine job.”

The excellence of the entire evening, hand-in-hand with now a present buzz of red wine after so many months, made the air around me feel as if it touched my skin like expensive cashmere. My insides felt as if they were humming with muggy decadence, and no unkind thought weighed on my mind.

“Oh God, stop it!” I covered my face, ashamed of his insinuating light-weight insult.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, Liv. I ain’t just sayin’ shit right now. I mean that. You’re perfect now, jus’ like this. And ya’ perfect on the couch with your face painted in one of those goopy masks you put on before you check your work email at night.” He leaned over the round table, mazing through the empty boxes, and melting candle wax staining the tablecloth to encase my fingers. Any fool could see there was nothing but earnest passion in his eyes, and a blatantly truthful, sureness in his voice.

“I love you. And don’t sell yourself so short! You are the perfect one. Even with all those demons, and whatever else is hiding in that head of yours.” I wanted to caress and pet his always warm cheek, but the distance between us caused me to settle for a tight squeeze of his hand, and a kiss to his scarred fingers.

“A perfect man wouldn’ta let somebody like you get away, baby.”

“Stop with that! We’re here now. Together. And we’re happy. Plus, there are more important things going on right now we should be worryin’ about.”

I knew I could back out of my fight right now, even the night before, and Colton would support my decision without hesitation, and anyone else who didn’t, would suffer at the hand of his consequence. The reality of what I knew I’d be doing only a few short hours from now, was a frightening one. But, one that I had agreed to for myself at the hands of no ones’ force. I wanted to make Colton proud of me for something more than just having my nose shoved in front of a computer screen 10+ hours a day. I had to prove to him, the world, my parents, and mainly myself that I was capable of greatness. That I had the potential to step out in faith, and achieve something like this with some courage like the old Liv.

“We’ve done everything in the gym we possibly coulda, baby. You’ve done everything. You need t’ believe in yourself like you were always tellin’ me. I’ll be there standin’ in that corner for you, I promise. And if ever you wanna cut it, just say the world ‘n we’ll walk outta there first round. You can do this, 2-1. Clear eyes, remember?”

“Thank you, Colton. For being the man that you are, and sticking with me through this even though we both know you hated the idea. And for all this God, it’s incredible, really. I’ve desperately needed some alone time with my guy.” I scooted to the front ledge of my chair, resting on the table to wink suggestively at the tantalizing specimen opposite my gazes.

“Calm ya’self, you dirty girl. I know wha’s goin’ on up in the head o’ yours. I got one more place I need to take you. Then, I can assure you…. I can really fuckin’ assure you, that I’m gonna get real good and close to every piece of your creamy skin under that dress.”

tags: @torialeysha @eap1935 @littleluna98 @mollybegger-blog

[thedancingnerdmermaid]

Shower Duet

Characters: Chris Evans x Reader

Chapter: Oneshot

Warnings: none really

Notes: Mostly dialogue. So this is just random. First thing i’ve written in a long time. Since FanFic Fridays ended maybe. Hope you all enjoy.

What a day! All you could think about was a long hot shower while relaxing to your "Singing in the Rain" playlist; a playlist you created of your favorite ones to belt out in the shower. You were so thankful that you worked overnight shifts so you could have all the hot water to yourself and not have to fight the rest of the apartment complex for it at two in the afternoon. About five minutes into your shower, when you’re in the middle of rapping it out Beyonce’s “Upgrade You”, the water goes from melt the skin off your bones hot to lukewarm.

"Damnit! Is it too much to ask to have all the hot water to myself once in awhile? The water system in this place fucking sucks!!" You shouted with your middle fingers raised. Of course no one could see of hear you so it was pointless but it kinda helped nonetheless .

"Sorry!" You heard faintly as the beads of water filled your ears while you were washing out your conditioner. Turning down the music, you looked around outside the curtain, “Must be hearing things." You mumbled to yourself as you decided to turn the water off and get something to eat. Grabbing your towel you turned your Spotify off. However you till heard singing. A deep sultry voice was singing the song you had just turned off. After that verse, it got really quiet; whoever it was had just realized that the music had stopped. You failed at stifling a giggle.

"Im that bad?" He shouted.

“No,... no... I just...." you couldn't stop laughing long enough to finish your sentence.

"What's your name?" He shouted again.

"Y/N." you shouted back, "what's yours?"

"Chris." He bellowed, "so we've never met but our showers are on opposite sides of the same apartment wall so sometimes we're showering at the same time and sing duets."

You were stunned. You were never a religious person but it was in that moment that you silently prayed to anyone that was listening that if he had heard you singing before, that he had not over heard any of your other shower activities.

"Umm okay? This is kind of..."

"Weird." He finished your sentence for you.

"Yeah... uh okay. Well bye. I guess?" You were unsure of what to do at this point.

"Wait! Do you want to have lunch with me? I just ordered a pizza! Your singing voice is beautiful, I'd like to talk to you some more. But in person. Ugh I feel like I'm just talking to a wall."

Bursting into to laughter, "wow really? I was considering it but that pun though."

He laughed, "it was punintentional, I wasn't sure if you were still there."

"Punintentional? Oh my god." You tried not to laugh and failed.

"Please have lunch with me? I'd hate to have to continue with the puns."

"Okay, okay. I guess. But only because pizza is life." You laughed, "give me like 5 minutes."

 You raced to you room to get dressed. You never usually cared about what your wore but at this moment you were trying to figure out what was good attire for a first meeting/ date with someone you've never met but apparently sing shower duets with. You decided on a simple t-shirt and a pair of denim shorts. You slipped on your flip flops and ran a brush through your hair, put on some deodorant because holy hell you were nervous." At least I shaved." You thought to yourself. A spray of your favorite perfume and you were heading for the door. Reaching your hand up to knock, you jumped when the door opened before you could touch it. You knew it would probably be polite to speak and say hi but you were a bit stunned. Standing in front of you was your celebrity crush. How the hell is he more handsome in person? How is that even possible? He was the first to speak.

 "Hi, Y/N. I'm Chris." He stuck out his hand and you took it, "Wait, but you already knew that. I don't really know the protocol here and that's why I’m babbling like an idiot instead of letting you respond, I’m sorry, come-in."

You giggled slightly and stepped inside. The apartment was just opposite of yours.

"It's okay, Chris, I don’t really know what to say either." Chris liked the way his name sounded from your lips he thought to himself.

"Want a beer? Pizza should be here soon."

You sat down at the small kitchen table, "Huh, pizza and beer before three in the afternoon, not bad Evans."

He smiled, "So you recognized me?"

"Well yeah I’m tone-deaf not blind."

He belted out in laughter, "You’re not tone-deaf. You're voice is amazing!"

"I didn't think anyone would be home during the day. I also certainly didn't know that you were my neighbor!"

"You're blushing."

"Stop it. You're not supposed to point that out."

"Sorry. I'm not usually here. I mainly stay in L.A. But I'm from Boston, so this is my apartment when I come home. I just got done filming for Infinity War so I’m off for a few months." He smiled as he noticed your eyes get big.

"Infinity War?!?! I'm so fucking excited to see that. Sorry not sorry that I’m a huge Marvel nerd."

"It's okay. I'm your favorite hero right? Please tell me you're 'Team Capt' or I might have to take back that pizza offer."

"Sorry, Widow is my favorite."

"Okay, okay fair enough, she's a badass. And I mean technically she becomes 'Team Capt' so I guess you can stay for lunch."

 You both laughed and there was a knock on the door. He winked at you as he went to the door. He kicked the door shut with his foot after paying the delivery guy.

"It's a supreme pizza. Hope that's okay."

"My favorite actually."

He brought the pizza and two plates to the table, "So you know a little bit about me, tell me about you."

"Holy anxiety batman. I know it's necessary in the beginning by I hate small talk."

"Well that I can definitely relate to."

"Well my name is Y/N Y/L/N, I’m a (your star sign) though I don't read too much into star signs, I love all music, as you are probably well aware, I love animals I’m a server and this pizza is amazing."

"Well done not bad. My name is Chris Evans, I’m a Gemini, I also don't read too much into it, I love your taste in music and I think all pizza is amazing."

You both laughed. "Well that takes care of that. How about something else, like where do you see yourself in five years?"

He took a sip of his beer. "Good one. Uh I hope to still be working. Hopefully I'll be married or on track to be and id like a few more dogs."

"Dogs are awesome."

"You are a dog person not a cat person, then?"

"All I can tell you is I am not a people person." He smiled and looked over at you. "Don't get me wrong," you continued, I find people fascinating. You know? Like why they are the way they are. I love different cultures. I love being around small groups of people or one on one but I’m not big on large crowds. Even when it's just a small group of people I need to be alone to recharge, I guess is a good term for it"

"That makes perfect sense. I'm the same way." 

You two talked and drank for hours like it was the easiest thing in the world. And it was. The conversations were about every topic imaginable. Talking to him was almost comforting. Even the silences between you were comfortable and not awkward. Unfortunately you noticed the clock behind you read 7:00pm and knew that you needed to get to bed for work tomorrow. But you didn't want to leave. Chris apparently noticed you frown.

 "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, it's just, it's getting late. I should probably go."

Chris's eyebrows dew together as he looked at the clock. "It's 7:00pm? That's hardly late." He thought maybe you just wanted to leave.

"It is when you work the overnight shifts. I'm a server and the diner is 24/7."

"Oh wow, I had no idea. Is the food good there?" He asked hoping to continue talking to you.

"Well we don't have pizza," you laughed, "but it's not bad. I'm sorry but I do need to go or I'll be dead on my feet."

Chris smiled, "well then, I shall walk you home."

You laughed and rolled your eyes playfully. "Well damn, chivalry is not dead." You winked, "Thank you for lunch and uh dinner too I guess."

"Anytime. Actually, same time tomorrow? We can have whatever you want!"

 You leaned up and kissed his bearded cheek. "Sounds great, Chris. I'll cook and you can make the long trip over to my place."

"That sounds great, I haven’t had a home cooked meal in so long. See you then."

 He kissed your cheek and you headed inside and slowly closed the door behind you. You decided to look out the peep hole of your door. There he was smiling to himself as he turned and headed back to his apartment. Your heart was beating so fast. All you could think was about how tomorrow would go.

 ****Let me know what you think

XoXo

[galaxystiel]

Visions (AO3) (2791 words)

Summary: Five times Dean saw his future in a vision, and one time he didn't need to.

1.

The first time it happens, they’ve just pulled into a gas station outside on to the way to Sioux Falls.

They’d just finished up a hunt. It wasn’t Dean’s first, or his second, but it hadn’t been many more than that. Sam had been left with Bobby, too young to tag along. He’d have slowed them down, distracted both of them.

John cuts the engine, tells Dean he did good and he’ll get him some candy. Dean, still a little shaken from the claws that had been much too close for his liking, just nods. He’s staring out of the window, trying to collect his thoughts. Another car pulls up beside them and Dean watches the guy get out, looking around nervously as he walks into the gas station.

John is fumbling with his wallet, and Dean sees him pull out a wad of cash, and then the most intense pain he’s ever felt wracks through his head. He doesn’t make a sound, just clutches at it with his hands, and his vision shifts.

He can see the guy working in the gas station, hands trembling as he empties the register for the stranger pointing the gun at him. There’s a pretty girl, young and wearing a white sundress crying in the corner. There’s a distant sound of bullets and bodies hit the floor, blood spilling everywhere. John is lying slumped over the register, a bar of Hershey’s slipping from his grasp, eyes wide open.

Dean starts, sweating and panting, his stomach churning. The sudden urge to vomit overwhelms him, but he forces it down. He’s not sure what just happened, but he knows what he saw, can see it clear as day. His hand flies out, catching John’s wrist in a vice-like grip.

“Dad, don’t go,” he pleads, tugging to stop John from getting out of the car. “Wait, please. You can’t go in there yet.”

John stops, confusion turning to concern when he sees the paleness in Dean’s face, the beads of sweat on his forehead. “Dean? You sick, son?”

Dean shakes his head, refusing to relinquish his grasp on his dad’s arm. “He’s got a gun, that man… he’s gonna shoot everyone inside.”

John stills, eyes narrowing. He turns towards the gas station fractionally, but before he can speak, the sound of gunshots ring out, and the screams follow. Without a second thought, John shuts the door and drives away promptly.

“Dad, no, we have to help them!” Dean shouts. He saved his dad’s life, he knows that, but that doesn’t mean he wants to condemn the innocent people in the gas station. John can help, he can save them.

“There’s nothing we can do, Dean,” John says. “They’re as good as dead already.”

Dean can picture all of the bodies, the young girl in the white dress that’s slowly staining red and feels tears well up in his eyes. He blinks them back furiously.

“I thought we were supposed to help people. That’s why you fight the monsters. You just let all those people die. What makes you any better than what you hunt?”

John loses his temper. “That’s enough, Dean. You’re not old enough to understand. We can’t save everyone. Sometimes you have to pick your battles. What if I’d gone in there and gotten shot too? Where would you go then?”

Uncle Bobby’s, Dean thinks to himself. He’d go and stay with uncle Bobby, the way Sam does when he’s too young to go on a hunt. Uncle Bobby would have saved those people, Dean knows that without a doubt.

Dean stares ahead in stony silence, realisation slowly dawning. John doesn’t care about helping people. All he cares about is getting revenge for Mary.

It’s a long time before the silence breaks, and it’s John who breaks it.

“Dean? How did you know that guy had a gun?”

For a moment, Dean considers telling his dad the truth, about the vision he had. That he could see and hear everything that happened in the gas station, watched almost half a dozen people bleed out. His dad included, while he waited in the car helplessly. He thinks about how his dad had left them there to die.

He’d never understand. They hunted things John didn’t understand.

Dean looks right at John and lies. “He was hugging his right side, trying to hide it. He looked pretty shifty.”

Satisfied with the explanation, John nods curtly and focuses on his driving.

Dean sits back in his seat and closes his eyes, wondering what the hell was happening to him.

2.

The visions continue, albeit few and far between. He can’t control when or why they appear. Dean decides to just accept them as the gift they are.

The pain is still unbearable, feels like his head is splitting open and his brain his being stabbed by a thousand needles. But the visions, whatever they are, have been nothing but helpful so he doesn’t mind too much. The pain only last a few moments if he doesn’t fight it, a residual headache the only side effect of whatever it is that allows him to see a possible future. Sometimes, the visions have appeared at an inconvenient time, in the middle of a wendigo hunt, or during a test. It took a while for Dean to find out that he could repress them, to block out the vision, although the pain gets worse before it fades away.

The visions aren’t always of life or death situations. Sometimes, they show Dean finding something he lost, a grade he’ll get on a test in school, playing ball with uncle Bobby. Sometimes, they’re not all that useful. Dean remembers each one vividly, doesn’t dare keep a written log of them anywhere in case John finds it.

He stirs the spaghetti making sure the sauce evenly coats the pasta. John is away, hunting something that he considered too dangerous for them, so Dean was left making dinner for Sam. Recently, Sam has become surly at mealtimes, twisting his face at whatever Dean makes for him. Tonight, Dean hopes that a traditional mac and cheese will tempt him.

When the vision comes, it strikes out of nowhere.

Blinded by the headache, Dean’s arms flail and he knocks the pan from the stove, spilling what was supposed to be their dinner all over the floor. Grasping the counter, he closes his eyes and focuses on his own face, talking to a strange woman.

“My Dad was always working, so I came up with about 101 ways to make macaroni and cheese.”

“Serious?”

“Oh, yeah. Now add ketchup sauce for spice, hmm? Uh, tuna, hot dogs, fluff marshmallow mix.”

“Ugh, that sounds disgusting!”

“Yeah, well, my brother thought it was exotic.”

Dean blinks, to find Sam shaking his arm, concern in his gaze. He looks down as the pain fades away, looking at the spaghetti, growing cold on the floor.

“Fuck. It’s cool, Sammy, I got it.” He waves off Sam’s concern and begins to clear up the mess, throwing away the remains of dinner and washing out the pan. “What do you say to mac and cheese tonight?”

Sam wrinkles his nose, but it’s a lot better than his usual sulking. “It’s kinda boring, Dean.”

Dean grins. “Nah. See, I know 101 different ways to make mac and cheese so it tastes completely different each time.”

Disbelievingly, Sam folds his arms. “101 different ways? No way.”

Pulling down the macaroni, Dean hides his inner triumph. “Wait and see. Numero uno, ketchup for spice.”

3.

Robin is a nice girl. Dean likes her a lot.

As first kisses go, Dean could have done a lot worse. He plans to take her to the dance, but can’t quite put his finger on the something that makes this seem off.

Maybe it’s because Sammy and Dad didn’t come for him yet. He knows they will sooner or later.

It’s almost a relief when they do turn up. He can’t explain the visions to Sonny, even know they’ve happened once or twice in his presence. Sooner or later, questions are going to be asked and he’s not going to be able to answer them.

He locks himself in the bathroom to dry his eyes, sitting on the toilet and burying his face in his hands. It’s mostly relief, he knows that. That he hadn’t been left behind, that he wasn’t dispensable to John. That Sam missed him. But it’s also regret. Because he had a life here that he had always wanted, but to keep it he would have to leave Sam.

That isn’t an option. He has no guarantee that Sonny will keep him around if he ever finds out about Dean’s visions, either.

The pain strikes out of nowhere, leaving Dean doubled over as gasps fall from his lips. This might be the most painful one yet, his knuckles turning white as he grasps the sink to keep himself upright. The vision flickers for a moment, as if it’s not set in stone, but then it clears.

A strong hand brushes against his cheek. Dean closes his eyes and leans into the touch.

“Cas,” he whispers, lips parting as a thumb sweeps across his lower lip. “Cas.”

It’s almost like he doesn’t know what to say. The strongest emotion Dean has ever felt builds up in his chest and then it all comes crashing out.

Dean feels his fingers knot into hair, short but soft, and almost whimpers. “You can’t leave me, Cas. You don’t get to do that again. I need you.”

He opens his eyes and sees a brilliant blue, before everything comes into focus.

“I will never leave you, Dean.”

Dean closes the gap between them and their lips meet in the middle.

With a shout, Dean comes back to himself in the bathroom. He’s pale, can feel all the blood draining from his face. What the hell was that? He wasn’t into guys, why would Dean ever be kissing a dude? Shocked to his very core, Dean just manages to make it off the toilet so he can turn around and vomit. The pain behind his eyes is still lingering, and he presses his cheek to the cool porcelain, ignoring how gross that is.

His legs are shaky when he stands up. Everything he knows about himself seems wrong. How could that be true? How could whatever future that was, result in him feeling so strongly for a man?

Dean thinks back to the gas station, and how he’d saved his dad’s life. Not all futures were set in stone. He could change this, have a future where he got out of hunting and met a nice girl, married and had kids. Whoever this guy was, Dean would never meet him, would never give him the time of day.

Washing his hands and splashing some water on his face, Dean left the bathroom with a grim expression.

Those visions were nothing but trouble. He would never have another one again.

4.

Dean makes it almost fourteen years before he has another vision.

There’s something suspicious about the blonde chick. Ruby, he reminds himself. She claims to want to help him, but there’s something in her gaze when she looks at him. Sympathy. Like she’s endured Hell, and she knows exactly what is waiting for Dean.

When he looks at her, he doesn’t see the slightest shred of hope for his situation.

It’s a rare moment of vulnerability when the familiar pain tightens behind his eyes. It’s been over a decade since Dean last let himself have a vision, but the weight of his decision to sell his soul is heavy tonight.

He closes his eyes.

Fire. Burning. Chains.

The choking scent of sulphur, down his throat, engulfing him.

Screams. Pain.

“Sammy!”

He gasps and rubs his fists into his eyes. Sam is in the bathroom, so Dean takes the time to escape, to step out of the room. There’s a bar on the corner, and after what he’s just seen, he needs more than just a couple of miniatures from the minibar.

The lights flicker, and he stops. Ruby is standing there, staring at him.

He can’t stop the attitude towards her, ever distrustful of her demon status. She gives as good as she gets, but Dean is grateful for it. He doesn’t need to be coddled. Ruby is honest and he’s grateful for that.

“There’s no way of saving me from the pit, is there?”

“No.”

When Ruby leaves, Dean sinks to the floor beside the Impala and buries his head in his hands. He will never regret his choice to save Sam, but in this moment, he allows himself to mourn for the future he will never have.

5.

Dean doesn’t connect the name ‘Castiel’ with the man from his vision.

How could he? All he knows is some inhuman thing was powerful enough to fight through hell and carry him out. The thought of falling for whatever that was doesn’t even cross his mind.

He knows, of course, the first time he sees Castiel walking into the barn. Between the shattering lightbulbs and flashes of lightning, recognition tugs at the back of his mind.

It’s not until he sees the blue eyes up close that he realises and he immediately gets defensive. This guy had shattered Dean’s world when he was sixteen and now thinks he can just waltz in and command Dean’s love? Was that why he’d saved him from Hell?

“Why’d you do it?”

“Because God commanded it. Because we have work for you.”

Dean stares at him. “Work?”

He stops at the familiar pain and he struggles to fight it. He’s weak, though, from digging himself out of his own grave, and he can’t repress it completely. He sees flickers of his life, of Castiel becoming family, and he falls to his knees.

The pain vanishes as quickly as it appeared, and Dean glances up to see Castiel’s fingers barely an inch from his forehead, concern evident in the lines around his eyes. Dean doesn’t even need to ask. He knows from the sympathy in Castiel’s eyes that he will never be troubled by the visions again.

“Thanks. Cas.”

The name from his vision slips out before Dean thinks about it, and he clenches his fists tightly. He saw enough in the flickers to know that whatever his future holds, Castiel will be part of it. The capacity of that would be up to Dean.

“You wanna use some of that mojo on Bobby?” He asks, looking down at his body on the floor. “Wake him up? You come in peace, E.T., I get it. But I’ve had a long freaking day, and whatever work ‘God’ has planned for me can wait till tomorrow.”

Castiel does as he’s asked, but leaves immediately afterwards, leaving Dean to deal with a groggy Bobby who demands to know what the hell happened.

Dean just shakes his head. Cas can be a problem for another day.

+1.

A strong hand brushes against his cheek. Dean closes his eyes and leans into the touch.

“Cas,” he whispers, lips parting as a thumb sweeps across his lower lip. “Cas.”

It’s almost like he doesn’t know what to say. The strongest emotion Dean has ever felt builds up in his chest and then it all comes crashing out.

Dean feels his fingers knot into hair, short but soft, and almost whimpers. “You can’t leave me, Cas. You don’t get to do that again. I need you.”

He opens his eyes and sees a brilliant blue, before everything comes into focus.

“I will never leave you, Dean.”

Dean closes the gap between them and their lips meet in the middle. The kiss only lasts for a few seconds before Dean pulls away, surprised.

“Dean?”

He looks up to find Castiel staring at him, concerned, hand resting on his knee. “I’m fine,” he promises, reaching out to cover Castiel’s hand with his own. “It’s just… I remember this. I saw it happen, when I was a kid. I didn’t know who you were or why you were so important to me. I promised myself I would never let this be real. That my future would never bring me here. I hated you for making me doubt what I knew about myself.”

Castiel smiles at him, sure enough of his place in Dean’s life that the words don’t shake him. “We don’t always know what will make us happy in the future.”

Dean makes sure Castiel meets his eyes when he says, “Sometimes we do.”

He closes the gap between them once more and revels in the knowledge that, while he no longer knows what the future holds, he know that Castiel will always be by his side.

Masterpost

[streetkings-yusa]

Yusa 1/?

“No, please!” Her throat had gone hoarse from screaming as her head was yanked every which way like a ragdoll. She was surprised that her neck hadn’t snapped. The bastard pulling her hair had ceased pummeling her stomach and face and pulled out a knife from his coat. “W-what the hell, please!”

“Now, bitch, tell me why you’re lookin’ for Majima? The Mad Dog’s kinda a big deal in the Tojo Clan, an’ what’s a pretty little thing like you lookin’ fer him for? You his girl?” The thug held the blade up to her neck, a small bead of blood trickling down the shining edge. It stung, and she couldn’t help but whimper. She had been beaten before while looking for him, but here she was, chained up to a filthy steel pillar in a warehouse on the docks, and her panic set in tenfold when the thug released her hair and used the now free hand to unzip his pants.

“Majima gone and got himself a sexy little thing, eh? Guess the bastard likes ‘em young. Betcher pussy’s all nice and tight. You in high school? Shit.” The thug smirked as he dug the knife deeper, streams of blood coating the side of the blade as she wiggled and pleaded. “Boys, you in?” From the shadows emerged more suited goons, members of her assailant’s gang, and they looked hungry. “This’ll piss ‘im off good that we’ll get his attention, eh? And Koji, you might wanna getcher camera ready. Gotta send consolation off to good ol’ Mad Dog for missin’ the party!”

*****

A few days after that incident, the thug who led that pitiful excuse of a gang disappeared and all its members beaten and scattered. She had been unconscious from the blood loss and trauma for a few days in the warehouse, and somehow she found herself in her bed, bandaged up and cleaned a few days after that. Over the years since then, the amount of beatings had decreased and she began fighting back against those who dared during her search. She had known that Majima had found himself back in the good graces of the Tojo Clan and was making his way up to lieutenant (which she was surprised he had given up), and had tried getting in touch with anyone in relation. She’d had to do shady things, the likes of wish she’d never mention, but her results were always the same: “get the hell out.”

Her only option? She had to become yakuza. Yusa fought tooth and nail, used the information she learned from her liaisons with other yakuza families as blackmail. She soon made a reputation for herself as a female boss, members of her gang starting with delinquents from her school and developing themselves into hardened gangsters. She started from the bottom, refusing to join any other clan in order to establish her own.

Twenty years later, here we are.

She had since dyed her hair and gotten her proper tattoos becoming of a yakuza patriarch, and like yakuza do, flaunted her wealth and indulged in expensive luxuries, like import motorcycles from America.

Takenaga Yusa was beyond pissed that her favorite motorcycle, her beloved 2003 Harley-Davidson Touring, was stolen while she was having dinner at Kanrai. It’d been a while since she had a break from blackmailing and beating rival gangs into submission (on top of running a clothing boutique), and there was nothing like a steaming plate of the finest kalbi ribs and a bottle of Rose Champagne to fill her belly after a long workweek. It didn’t take long for her boys to find the perpetrators while she sat sulking in her office, sharpening her twin pair of kodachi and fiddling with the crimson tassels that hung from the kashira. Within moments she was out on the streets of Kamurocho, her kodachi in hand and storming her way to an empty parking lot in the Hotel District.

She didn’t have a break whatsoever. On her way to the parking lot, Yusa and her boys were ambushed by small groups of street thugs, those whom paid Yusa handsome bribes afterwards to keep silent immediately following a beat down single-handedly delivered by Yusa herself. It took several small gangs and a handful of wannabe robbers to finally reach her destination. The parking lot was tucked away behind a shining love hotel, brand new from the looks of it. Despite the building itself being new, no one parked their cars in the dilapidated lot littered with discarded garbage, with its cracked pavement and untamed weeds, choosing to park in the private garage of the love hotel instead. No matter. Sitting in the middle of the crumbling lot was her shining bike, still in pristine condition and her golden braided cord and bell still attached to the handle. The only thing tarnishing it was the goon sitting in the leather seat, his arms crossed and smirking.

“Hey asshole! You mind getting your filthy ass off my bike? I just got her back from maintenance and your grubby cheeks are tainting her.” Keeping her anger to a check, Yusa briskly made her way through the lot and toward the small group of suited thugs standing around her motorcycle. The smiling idiot took one look at her and paled. Yusa smirked when she saw him mouth the words “oh shit” upon her entrance, and to further add to the effect, she slipped out of her amethyst suit coat and rolled up the sleeves of the silk black button-up she wore underneath.

“Y-Yo! You think a little lady like you c-can stop us? Your boys look like they can’t even take us on! Yeah!” The goon sitting atop her bike stammered, trying to hold his composure as Yusa’s steps didn’t falter. “You better get your boys to hold ya back, or me and my boys are—“

“Are gonna what, hm? They look like they’re warming up the bench for you real nice over there,” Yusa grinned as she pointed to the wall behind her target. The poor guy was left all alone, abandoned by his friends who had their backs pressed into the corner like children caught stealing at the candy store. She caught a glimpse of one of the thugs dialing a number and talking to someone on his cell phone. Shit, better make this quick then. Before the thug on her bike could turn around to face her, Yusa had already grabbed him by his coat lapels and hurled him into the ground. The debris from the cracked pavement and shards of broken glass cut into his face, as made evident by the blood that sprinkled Yusa’s heeled boots. “This’ll be over fast, sugar.” She delivered heel kicks until the thug was able to stand, then flurries of punches collided with his face until his mug was nothing more than a bloody mess swaying in the light of a flickering streetlamp. As promised, she ended it quickly. Yusa sidestepped behind the goon and wrapped her arms around his wrists, and finished her assault with a suplex, hearing the satisfying crack of his skull against the pavement. She winced when some of the loose shards of stone and glass dug into her back, but no skin broke, luckily.

Serves you right, ass. Yusa left his unconscious form on the pavement as she lifted herself up, all the while dusting off the stray shards that stuck themselves into the fabric. Her work was done, bike recovered. Before she could ask the remaining gangsters whose clan they hailed from, a voice stopped her dead. That distinct accent…the new voice that filled the air made her spine tingle and mind go numb.

“Hey boys! So whadda we have here? Hm?”

His eyepatch. The proud stagger in his step. That damn smirk. She saw peeks of his white snakes from underneath his open snakeskin shirt. Her eyes filled with forming tears and she grit her teeth. For the first time that night she unsheathed her kodachi. Her heart was bursting; she didn’t know whether to be pissed off, upset, or joyous. The trifecta of emotions that overwhelmed her for twenty-two years overtook her in a matter of seconds as she charged at him in full force.

Also for the first time, in a very long time, she lost her proper Tokyo dialect and broke into her rough, almost cat-like Nagoya dialect. “GORO MAJIMA, YOU FUCKING BASTARD!”

[mariequitecontrarie]

All of Me: Chapter 11

The Fic: Belle French is a pudgy librarian who’s in love from afar with “town monster” and ace reporter, Mr. Gold. Little does she know, he’s head-over-heels in love with her, too.  Chapter Summary: Belle deals with the fallout of her impromptu overnight stay at Gold's house when rumors about the town's newest couple begin to circulate. @beastlycheese prompted: “Could I prompt a scene where they deal with the abuse because of their size differences?” Thank You: Amazing beta who saves my life @magnoliatattoo! Happy Birthday, sweetie! Thanks also to @sarashouldbestudying for letting me pester her with Italian questions! Artwork: @wizzygold A/N: THANK YOU for voting All of Me Best Rumbelle Fic and Best Trend in The TEAs! I love you guys so much!

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10

Stay with Me (between Ch 9 and 10)

{On AO3} {On FF}

“Judge tenderly, if you must. There is usually a side you have not heard, a story you know nothing about, and a battle waged that you are not having to fight.”  ― Traci Lea LaRussa

Marco tossed fresh zucchini slices into a sizzling sauté pan and inhaled deeply. Was there a more comforting aroma in all the world than that of hot olive oil and garlic melting together? Bellissima! With a contented hum, he swiveled back to the cutting board to chop the rest of the vegetables for his lasagna bianca. He glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. Madonna mia, it was two o’clock already! He rocked the knife against the board faster; he needed to hurry if he was going to have this batch ready in time for tonight’s first dinner reservations.

As he finished chopping the peppers, agitated footfalls sounded outside the door. Belle stormed into the kitchen, shoving the swinging kitchen door against the wall with a crash. Surprised to see her in the middle of the afternoon, Marco wiped his hands on his apron. “Buona giornata, Bella,” he greeted, then snapped his mouth shut at the mutinous expression on his sweet girl’s face.

“What’s so good about it?” She brushed past him and ducked into the refrigerator, emerging with the cassata cake he had prepared for tonight’s dessert special.

He watched her cut a large wedge and stomp to the booth in the back corner of the kitchen reserved for his staff to eat during their breaks. She plunked her slab of cake down on the table. Eyebrows raised, two of his waiters scurried out of her way, carrying their spaghetti lunches out the back door. He would have chuckled at their befuddled expressions, had Belle not looked so devastated. Her brow furrowed, marring her dewy skin as she glared at the cake in front of her.

“Something wrong, Bella?” He set down the chef’s knife and took a hesitant step in her direction. “You’re chasing my staff away.”

“I chase everyone away,” she said, chin wobbling as she rifled through bins of cutlery looking for a fork.

“Ridiculous.” He clucked at her, then brought over a fresh set of utensils and a starched napkin. “Anyone with any sense adores you. Is it Edith?”

“For once, she’s at the bottom half of my list of problems,” Belle shot back, then pressed her lips together as if she’d said too much.  

“Che cavolo! What problems?” he asked, growing alarmed at the anguish in her voice.

“It’s nothing.” She smoothed the napkin over her lap, refusing to meet his eyes. “Don’t worry. Besides, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Not Signore Gold?” Marco clenched a dishtowel. He liked Gold, thought he was a wonderful match for his sweet girl, but if Gold hurt his Bella, he would summon his ancestors to haunt the man’s dreams for the rest of his earthly days.

“No,” she said, her expression softening as tears filled her eyes. “It’s not Gold. And don’t go dragging him into all this!”

“Into all what? You say it’s nothing.” He shrugged, offended that Bella would think he couldn’t be trusted with a secret. He was no chiacchierone, but he didn’t object to employing a little well-meaning guilt. He was Italian, after all. “I’m just an old man who makes pasta. Who am I to get involved in your love life?”

“I mean it, Marco.” Belle suspended her fork in midair. “Don’t call him.”

Anger bubbled under his skin, not unlike the spicy marinara simmering on the stove. Everything had been going so well. Bella was surely, albeit slowly, finding love and building a future. But now she was once again closing herself off to the world for reasons she wouldn’t tell him. She needed the comfort and confidence of his friendship more than ever. Friendship…of course! He nearly smacked himself for being such an old fool.

“I promise not to call Signore Gold,” he said, crossing himself. And he meant it. He wouldn’t call Gold. He would call Emma. And then she could call Gold. There was more than one way to skin a cat, si?

“Please, Marco, I know you want to help. Could you just leave me alone for a little while, though?” Belle begged.

Her voice was hoarse and her eyes red-rimmed, like she would burst into tears at any moment. Marco struggled between what she wanted and what was best: being alone was the last thing she needed. That was Belle’s entire problem—she internalized every struggle, and hid herself away from other people. Then, alone in the dark, she consumed her demons’ weight in fudge instead of facing them.

“Si.” Marco nodded solemnly, and stepped quietly back from the table. Leaving Belle to her own counsel for the time being, he scurried out of the kitchen to the telephone behind the bar. He punched in the number for the Storybrooke Mirror, hoping that Emma would answer instead of Gold.

“Bella, she stormed into the restaurant and cut herself a fettona of cake," Marco confided when Emma answered his call.

“Fettona?” Emma paused on the line. “Is that a new flavor or something?”

"No. Come si dice....how do you say in English?” He gesticulated wildly, not that Emma could see his arms waving as he searched for the words. “Ah! Big piece of cake.”

"Oh! Yeah, I think I know what this is about,” Emma said. “And I can feel you wringing your hands. Don’t worry. I’ll be right there.”

Groaning, Marco hung up the phone and mopped beads of sweat off his brow with the corner of his apron. Turning out perfectly al dente pasta creations during the dinner rush was nothing compared to this stress.

Her stomach tightening, Belle toyed with a sliver of toasted almond on top of her cake. Everyone knew they were a couple now, and it was only a matter of time before Gold thought better of his decision to get involved with Belle French. Nice going, Belle. In less than forty-eight hours, she had lost her shiny new status as Gold’s girlfriend. She poked and prodded the offending morsel as her mind played the events of the past days on a sadistic loop.

The visit to Gold’s had been idyllic, until her father and Edith had arrived to humiliate her. After their abrupt departure, she and Gold had managed to salvage the rest of their morning together, finishing their breakfast without another mention of her parents.

Had the mechanic at the garage looked at her strangely? All Belle knew was that everything had been fine—until yesterday when she’d picked up her car and gone back to work.

Word of Belle’s overnight visit to Mr. Gold’s home had spread faster than the oil leak the garage had discovered beneath her broken-down car. How and where the rumors started didn’t really matter; from the sidewalk to the library to Granny’s, everyone stared at her and spoke in hushed tones. Since she’d arrived at work yesterday, her brain had tortured her with round after round of the dreaded game Guess What Is Everyone Saying?

“Did you hear that Belle French is sleeping with Mr. Gold from the newspaper? Yes! He’s more than twice her age. I knew she didn’t get along with her stepmother, but I didn’t realize she wanted to replace her father…that’s so creepy!”

“I wonder if such a little man could actually please a woman her size? You know they do say the bigger the cushion. I’ll bet he needs climbing gear to get up there!”

“What if she rolls over and crushes him in bed?”

Less than twenty-four hours after an innocent overnight stay, their fledgling relationship had become everyone’s business, if not in fact, then in her overwrought imagination. Fresh tears filled her eyes and she dropped her fork and buried her head in her hands.

The argument in Gold’s foyer with Edith. The deafening silence from her father. While she’d been with Gold, Edith had rifled through her room again. She hadn’t said anything to give herself away, but Belle had known by the subtle way her things were shifted around. Edith was a sloppy snooper. But that wasn’t the worst of it. Yesterday afternoon she’d escaped the library to eat a quiet lunch at Granny’s and come face-to-face with one of least favorite people.  

When Belle looked up from her tuna melt and her dog-eared copy of Pride and Prejudice, Ashley Boyd, Sean’s girlfriend, was sliding into the seat across the booth. She frowned down at Belle’s basket of fries and wrinkled her nose. “Wow, Belle. How do you do it?”

“Excuse me?” Belle asked, annoyed by the interruption. Mr. Darcy was about to propose to Elizabeth Bennet for the first time and she was in no mood for pleasantries.

“How do you eat all that? I can’t eat a huge, sandwich filled with mayo and butter and cheese in the middle of the day.”

“Special talent,” Belle snapped back. “Pairs really well with the fried ravioli I had for breakfast.”

“It’s not only that,” Ashley simpered. “I mean, you’re so brave...dating a guy that's thinner than you. Thank God Sean can span my waist with his hands. I wish I had your courage, hon.”

“I wish I had yours,” Belle replied sweetly. 

“Oh yeah?” Ashley looked confused.

“To date a guy another woman's already dumped. Now that takes moxy. As you can plainly see,” Belle gestured at herself, “the only seconds I like are the ones on my plate.”

Ashley stiffened, her eyes turning as cold as ice chips when it dawned on her that she’d been insulted.

Belle’s face had burned as Ashley stalked away, but her embarrassment was trumped by the satisfaction of finding her voice when confronted with someone horrible. I should not have said those things. She sighed—yesterday she'd managed to send doubt and regret on a brief holiday. Now they were back, and guilt had joined the party.

Then there was the scene she made at the library this morning.

Cordelia had pounced while Belle was trying to unload a shipment of new books before story hour. Bless her heart, she was positively effervescent—bubbling over about how handsome Mr. Gold is and pumping her for details on everything from their dinner to the movie they watched to what color and thread count the sheets were on Gold’s bed. Busy hefting crates of books and only half listening, Belle had grunted monosyllabic replies until Cordelia announced that if she were twenty years younger she would steal Gold away from Belle and marry him.

That had captured her attention.

“What do you mean, steal him away?” Seething, Belle rounded on Cordelia, her hands on her hips. Sweat was trickling down her back and between her breasts and her lungs were burning with exertion. She needed a snowball snack cake more than she needed her next breath, but she wasn’t letting that comment go.

Cordelia’s eyes widened. “Well, that is…I meant to say…if you don’t want him, dear…”

“You can keep your man-eating clutches to yourself. Gold is mine!” Belle bellowed at the top of her lungs.

Everyone in the library had turned to gawk at her, no doubt wondering why the head librarian was screaming at her assistant during quiet time.

It was simply all too much. She had ignored Cordelia’s sputtering apology, ripped open a packet of snowballs, shoved one in her mouth, and stomped back to her office.

If the rest of the town didn’t already know about Belle French dating Mr. Gold, well, they would now. It would be even more humiliating when he broke up with her for subjecting him to public embarrassment.

Belle startled when Emma Cassidy appeared at the kitchen door, forcing her out of her thoughts. She crossed her arms over her chest and arranged her face in a severe frown that she hoped said Do Not Disturb.

Failing to take the hint, Emma plopped down with her typical casual grace. She looked adorable in ripped jeans and a turquoise hoodie that brought out her green eyes.

Belle sighed, “Can no one read?”

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” Next time she wanted to hide in the back of the restaurant and eat all the cake, she would tell Marco not to let anyone disturb her. “I don’t think I'm great company right now, Emma.”

“Let me be the judge,” she said pleasantly, propping her elbows up on the table. “Your face is gonna freeze like that if you aren’t careful. So what's up?”

Apparently no one could read or hear.

Belle dragged the plate of cake back into fork’s reach. “I already told you—nothing.”

“Likely story.” Emma pointed at the slab of cassata cake. “Do you really want that?”

Belle snatched up her fork and pointed it at a threatening angle. “Now you're going to start on me too?”

“Nope.” Emma held up her hands, eyes sparkling with mirth. “Guilt trips aren’t my style.”

“You don’t have to do this. Pretend to be my friend.” Belle didn’t need or want Emma’s pity. She certainly didn’t need her judgment, or her well-intentioned-yet-insulting encouragement to make healthier choices.

The blood drained from Emma’s face and she sank back against the bench. “Oh, I see. You think this is all about you.”

“What?”

“Did it ever occur to you that maybe I want to be your friend? That maybe I need one too? Look, forget it. I’ll go.” Visibly upset, Emma stood, struggling to shrug her jacket over her shoulders.

“Wait. Emma, please. I-I’m sorry.” Belle shoved the cake back to the center of the table. “Stay. I have cake,” she offered stupidly.

“You know, Belle,” Emma said, “that day we went shopping? I had so much fun. I thought you did too, and I was so happy to just spend some time doing, ya know, girl things.” Emma grew uncharacteristically sheepish as she played with the zipper on her red leather jacket. “I don’t have that—lots of friends. Sure, I have Neal, and Henry, and Dad, uh, Gold… but no one I can just grab coffee with or whine about periods or anything like that.” She smiled wistfully.

Belle felt the flush of shame overtake her face as she rose from the booth. Walking over to Emma, she placed a tentative hand on her arm.

“Emma, I am truly sorry,” Belle said in earnest. “You’re right, I was being selfish. You’ve been wonderful to me; your whole family has. I’m honored that you would call me a friend.” Smiling, Belle gestured to the booth. “I could use a friend to talk to and a cake-eating partner. Join me, please?”

Emma smiled broadly and tossed her jacket back on the bench, eyeing the cake. “Looks delicious. Besides, friends don’t let friends scarf Marco’s signature dessert alone. Got an extra fork?”

Relieved, Belle handed her the spoon from her cutlery set. “We may as well eat it all. I’m already out of Gold’s weight class.”  

“It’s not a wrestling match, it’s a relationship!” Emma murmured around a mouthful. “Belle, ignore whatever crap that airhead Ashley was spouting and anyone else around town who’s blabbering. They’re jealous.”

“Ha! Jealous of what?” Belle dug into the cake and the smooth flavors and textures of rum-spiked custard, fluffy white cake, and chocolate filled her mouth. Why question people and their motivations when you could eat?

“Are you kidding? No one knows what to do with Dad. Beyond the business of running his newspaper, he keeps to himself besides you and us.” Emma dropped her voice and wiggled her eyebrows. “You've been in the beast's lair.”

Belle choked. “You did not just say that.”

“He’s so love-struck, you could strike a match to that ghastly mausoleum he calls a house and he’d probably thank you for it…wow, this cake is fantastic!” She turned around, looking for Marco, who was busy chopping and stirring, he and his sous chef ��speaking to one another in rapid-fire Italian. “Marco, what is in this?”

“Special, secret recipe,” he said, dramatically drawing his finger to his lips.

Belle rolled her eyes, and when she turned back to Emma she was grinning. “What?”

“Wipe the frosting off your nose, Belle,” she said, tossing her a clean napkin. “Your white knight has arrived.”

At once, Belle heard the familiar cadence of Gold’s cane tapping against the tile and shot Marco an accusing look. He looked down in a rush, pretending to busy himself by slicing a loaf of ciabatta bread.

“Before you freak out and shout at Marco, I’m the one who called Gold,” Emma admitted, sliding out of her seat to make way for him. Pulling on her jacket, she smiled brightly as she turned to leave. “Just no make-up sex on the table, okay guys? You don’t want to shut Marco down for code violations.” She laughed as she scurried from the kitchen.

Gold shook his head at his daughter-in-law’s retreating form. “I don’t know if I could put up with her if she weren’t so perfect for my son,” he quipped, sliding into the booth.

Belle stared at the vinyl gingham-printed tablecloth as Gold reached across the table for her hand. She was finding it nearly impossible to look him in the eyes, frightened that she would find only regret in their warm depths.

“Gold, I’m so, so sorry.” Belle trembled as she tried to get the words out.

“Belle, hey.” He pulled his hand back in confusion. “Talk to me,” he urged.

She pushed the cake aside, no longer hungry. The way his brow furrowed in concern clenched at her heart, squeezing until Belle lost control and tears began to stream down her face.

Wordlessly, Gold slid out from the opposite bench at the booth, and Belle was certain he was about to leave, but he edged in closer, settling himself beside her so they sat thigh-to-thigh.

Belle caught her breath. Being this close to him made her nerve endings trip like live wire. Here he was, dashingly dressed in his signature three piece suit, not a hair out of place, and smelling bloody fantastic. She lifted her face to his and attempted a brave smile, but faltered when she met his piercing gaze. He stared at her intently, searching her soul, and she was mesmerized by the tenderness in his eyes. Mercy, had they always been flecked with amber?

It wasn’t fair; he was completely at ease while she practically needed life support to sit next to him.

His lip twisted as he fought a smile. “So you broke Leroy’s Kline’s nose. Threw a book at his head.”

“Heard about that did you?” she said feebly. 

“The library is right across the street from the paper.” He grinned, his white teeth flashing. “A bystander or two might have called in with an anonymous tip in the name of free press.”

“He was mean to you,” she reasoned, her neck prickling with renewed fury. “Calling you a hack. Saying that I was an awful person for…” Belle swallowed. “I didn't mean to break anything, but I suppose War and Peace is rather a heavy book.”

“Is that why you’re hiding from me, sweetheart?” He covered her hand with his. “Because of Leroy?”

Belle looked down. She didn’t have an answer. Not a good one, anyway. “Among other things,” she evaded. “You wouldn’t understand.”

A sweet smirk played at the corner of his mouth. “Try me.”

She shook her head. “No one wants to see us together.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” he said calmly.

Incredulous, she stared at him. “Haven’t you heard? The things people are saying,” she clarified.

Before she could explain further, Gold’s warm, slightly calloused hand closed around the back of her neck, his long, elegant fingers catching a few locks of hair. He hauled her into his arms with a strength that caused a gasp to slip from her lips. Before she could draw breath, his mouth was covering hers, his warm lips gently massaging, tongue teasing her lips apart in a bid for entrance. Helpless to deny him anything, Belle sighed softly and opened like a flower thirsty for rain. The kiss was deep, passionate, and Belle paid no mind to the waiters coming and going through the kitchen, or to Marco or the sous chef stirring at the stove.

He pulled away, cradling her jaw in the palm of his hand. “Sweetheart, do you remember the day we met?”

###

Up Next: Flashback of how Belle and Gold first met.