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crazylilmonster · 3 years ago

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Begonia Epilogue

Disclamer: This story contains sexual themes as well as violence and alcohol and drug usage. If you can’t handle such themes or you are under 18 I advise you not to interact with it. Because I’m aware that no matter how many disclaimers put some minors are still going to ignore it and interact I strongly advise you to not repeat any acts mentioned in the story and practice safe sex which will not be shown in this story.

Masterlist

Begonia Masterlist

“Here he is.”

Tears were running down my cheeks as the nurse place a baby boy wrapped in the blanket into my arms.

“Don’t smother him for fuck sake (Y/N)!” Mikey complained and I rolled my eyes at the blond.

“Mikey shut the fuck up if you want to live.” Ken warned him as he was sitting by Emma’s side.

Emma was in the bed right next to me holding her bundle of joy. She glared at her brother. “You became an uncle and a dad in the same day, be a bit more emotional you dummy.”

“I’m emotional alright, I’m just not crying like Takemichy and Ken-chin did.”

I had a child with an idiot… His abyss for eyes didn’t hold the same emotion it did when we confessed to each other about nine months ago.

“You guys work fast. Stated dating and made a baby in the same day. It’s impressive.” Emma mocked.

“So you were not on a pill?” Mikey joked.

“I was but I forgot to take them a couple of times.” I sighed.

“She tied me to her with a kid now. I have no escape.” He chuckled. His chuckle was quieted down by my glare. ”You know I don’t mean it.” He kissed my cheek and I just rolled my eyes in response.

“I think we all know why our kids are literally minutes apart.” I eyed my future sister in law.

“It was the uniforms I tell you and the bandages which was my idea so you’re welcome ladies.” Emma proudly smiled. “When was your kiddo born?” She turned her attention towards Hina-chan.

“2:03 am.” She answered with a smile.

“Oh wow. My little cutie was born at 2:02 am.” Emma smiled proudly at the small baby girl in her hands.

“2:01 am…” I smirked at the blond and her mouth fell wide open. “That’s cool.”

“Can I finally hold him now?” Mikey pouted

I chuckled at his childish remark. “Do you know how to hold him?”

“Of course I do.” He extended his hands and with caution I placed our son into his arms.

Mikey’s carefree expression switched to serious. “He has your eyes…” I said.

He didn’t say anything he just stared at his newborn son for a long while. The silence stayed between our friends as they stared at Mikey with some kind of anticipation. Just like that the tears started spilling out of his dark abyss for eyes.

“Aww… Are you crying?” I mocked him.

“Shut up.” He warned. “I can’t help it…”

I pulled him by his sweatpants and he got the memo to sit next to me while still holding our baby boy.

“I’m fucked….” Ken spoke up.

“What? Why?” Emma furrowed her eyebrows at him.

Ken stared at his wife with a meaningful look. “We have a daughter… All those nasty boys will be running after her. What if she falls for a scumbag? Or even worse an asshole who hits women?”

Emma chuckled. “You’re dumb. She’ll have a big brother to protect her yeah?” She eyed Mikey.

“Not to forget that her daddy is one of the most dangerous men in all of Tokyo.” I spoke up. “Come on Ken, you think that boys won’t shit their pants the moment they see you?”

“You’re right.” He sighed. “Thanks sis…” He kissed his wife on the cheek. “Thanks wife.”

“Get a room.” Mikey mocked.

Ken glared at his future brother in law. It’s a unique situation. I fell in love like a dumb ass and almost killed myself by not getting the surgery. However I’m glad I didn’t get it. I’m glad I was going to see it till the end and I’m glad that I said yes that night when I went to Mikey’s place.

I won’t even start how weird it is that I became a mother so quickly. Hina-chan and Takemichi started dating twelve years ago and now they have a kid and here I’m, got pregnant the moment the son of a bitch confessed to me. Not to mention that both Hina-chan and Emma have rings on their fingers and I don’t. Not that it matters, I don’t need a piece of paper confirming I love him, he has all my medical history for fuck sake.

“(Y/N)?” I turned my attention to Mikey. “You were spacing out, everything alright?”

“Yeah…. No worries… I’m just tired a bit.” I mean it is almost dawn.

“Gentlemen I think it’s time to let the new mommas rest don’t ya think?” I looked at the door of our shared hospital room to see a familiar dark skinned woman.

“Jolene?” I questioned. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh baby, Jonny told me ya gonna become a momma, I can’t just miss that.” She dragged her husband by the hand.

“Where are our new momma’s?” Jonny smiled at us.

“Hi Jonny.” All three of us greeted the kind giant.

“Let me see them.” He leaned down over Mikey to take a better look at my new born son. “He better call me grandpa Jonny or Imma be real sad.” He joked.

“Jonny if ya don’t move this instant there ain’t gonna be no food for you.” She warned her husband before stepping closer to Mikey peeking into the blanket. “Oh my, such a cute child. He gonna be handsome when he grows um just like his daddy.” Jolene fanned her face with the palm of her hand like she was shooing away the tears. “Now you gotta make a daughter so she can be pretty just like momma.” She winked. “Emma baby you had a girl did ya not?” She turned her attention towards the pair next to me.

“I sure did.” She smiled.

“Let me see her.” She rushed to the bed. “Holy Jesus… Ken baby if we were not in Japan I would tell ya to keep a shot gun at your disposal, but ya better watch over her, she gonna make the boys go crazy if ya know what I mean.” Jolene patted a tall young adult on the back with a smile. “Hinata baby, let me see him.”

She walked over to Hinata with a smile. “Dear god, he is beautiful, he got his daddy’s eyes I can see that.” She smirked at Takemichi. “But damn I guess only Ken was at the top of his game while making his child. You two better keep up. Girls are hard to make.” Jolene pointed her manicured finger at Takemichi and Mikey while Ken held a proud expression.

“He wasn’t so proud a moment ago, Jolene you will make his ego grow.”

“Emma baby, if anything that just means you’ll have a better sex life trust me.”

Emma’s cheeks reddened and Ken brought his face closer to hers. “You herd the expert wife.” He had a smug expression plastered on his face.

“Get a fucking room.” Mikey looked disgusted. “For fuck sake Ken-chin don’t flirt with my little sister right in front of me.”

“And it’s just fine when you flirt with (Y/N) in front of me?” He glared at Mikey.

“(Y/N) is not your sister.”

“Not by blood.”

“Fellas…” Jolene raised her tone by an octave. “Mommas need to rest and you too so why don’t we get onto that.”

~��~☆~☆~

“I can’t tell if this is funny or just creepy.” Emma looked to both her sides at me and Hina-chan while holding her second born son. “When were they born again?”

“3:01 am.” I spoke up while holding my newborn daughter. Mikey was standing beside me holding our soon to be a two year old son in his arms.

“3:02 am.” Emma said.

“3:03 am.” Hina-chan smiled at the two of us.

“Okay this is creepy. And you gave birth to girls and I to a boy. And we all gave birth at the same time just an hour later.” Emma furrowed her eyebrows.

“Mama…” Her soon to be a two year old daughter reached out her little arms. “Wanna see…” Ken chuckled at his daughter enthusiasm and brought her closer to her baby brother. “Pretty…” Her eyes sparkled.

Mikey eyed our son who didn’t seem all that interested into his new baby sister. “Baby look, you’re a big brother.” I said. “When you grow up you’ll have to watch over her just like Daddy’s watching over Auntie Emma.” With my words I saw a glint of determination in his eyes.

“Yes…” He mumbled.

“Good boy.” I praised.

~☆~☆~☆~

“You better be quiet the kids are sleeping.” Mikey smirked as he was pounding into me.

It has been so long since we last time had sex that this feels like first time all over again. Not to mention that this son of a bitch has so much stamina it is embarrassment to have sex with him. After round three or four I’m done but he, nah… we’ll do another three to four rounds before he gets tired.

“Manjiro… Too much…” I let out a whine.

“Too much? But you are taking me so well.” He continued to move his hips in rhythm making me roll my eyes in the back of my skull. “Come on pretty, you can take it…” He slammed his hips into me hitting that one deep spot within me.

“Oh for fuck sake…” I said through my clenched teeth.

“I told you to be quiet.” He practically growled into my ear making me clench around his length. “Fuck…” He sighed. “Keep clenching like that and I’ll make us another kid.”

“Then no sex for another nine moths…”

“You little…”

I shut him up by pressing my lips onto his. He slammed into me once again and stayed there. He cupped my cheek caressing it with his thumb. When we parted he stared into my eyes. “I love you.” He whispered.

“I love you too.”

He pressed his lips onto mine once again into a passionate kiss.

This was the man I feel in love with. This was a man i was ready to die for. I remember promising myself that when I do die, my last words will be his name and an ‘I love you’. Now I can do that by being surrounded by our children and grandchildren.

He is the only one I ever loved and will always be the only one I will ever love. And there is nothing that will change my mind.

Manjiro Sano is not perfect.

Neither am I.

Nor anyone in this world.

But no matter how imperfect we are we will keep saying those thee words. Those eight letters will bind us together forever.

Just like blood stained begonias that used to grow in our lungs.

Oh wow… it’s done. I finished it. Honestly it blows my mind. I feel like I started writing this yesterday or something. I will gladly inform you that this story is 21.633 words long and that I’m working on many more which you can see on my masterlist and will be posted soon.

I thank all of you so much for reading and I will see you in my future updates.

Love ya!

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x y/n #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers headcanons #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo rev smut #manjiro sano #manjiro sano x y/n #manjiro sano x reader #manjiro sano smut #mikey #mikey x y/n #mikey x reader #mikey smut #draken #emma sano #hinata tachibana #takemichi hanagaki

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hotdogct · 4 years ago

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blooms in adversity ||| n.jm

pairing: na jaemin x reader genre: angst-ish, fluff. words: 1.8k a/n: you ever get rejected from a job and have a complete meltdown over your future hahahahahhaaa just asking for a friend :) title is an obvious nod to ‘mulan’, i listened to way too much hippo campus while writing this. enjoy!!!

network tags: @czennienet

At this time we have decided to move forward with other candidates in the hiring process. Thank you for your interest and we wish you the best of luck in the future.

The rejection email might’ve landed in your inbox late in the afternoon, but you had been anticipating its arrival all day long - the thought of it lingering, stagnant, weighing heavily on your brain like a storm cloud that refused to pass.

Jaemin knew this, anticipated it. It’s why the two of you were outside, taking full advantage of the warmth the sun was providing this late spring day. After noticing the neglected planter on your balcony in the early days of your relationship, Jaemin wouldn’t stop nagging you about his ‘legendary�� green thumb. As soon as winter began to fade to spring he began to wax poetic, explaining the overwhelming benefits plant ownership has on a person and pretty please can-he-take-you-to-the-nursery and-

It’s not that you didn’t appreciate flowers. Some of your fondest memories of the early stages of your relationship were the bouquets Jaemin would spoil you with at each date - how you used to keep them on display prominently in the kitchen, a silent reminder of his newly blooming affection towards you. Even after they wilted, lost their petals, there was seldom time to mourn. A new bouquet would always take its place, and the absentminded cycle could continue.

Absentminded. That was your whole problem, the reason for the sad remains of dead flowers residing in the neglected planter. You had started off with the brightest of intentions when moving into your first apartment - wanting to establish routine and create the perfect place to unwind at the end of the day.

Nervously you had browsed the outdoor section of the nearest hardware store, shaky hands brushing over begonias and marigolds, before settling on a flat of dusty pink petunias to take home. None of these names meant anything to you, no terms familiar. Equipped with extra gardening tools courtesy of your mother, you spent that afternoon carefully digging into the soil. Gently sitting each starter petunia into place and covering their roots as if tucking in a child for the night. For the next few days, you’d make sure to have your daily nightcap of wine out on the balcony, watch the sunset and water the planter.

But one day you forgot. The next you were tired. Then you went out of town for the weekend. And at that point, shame left you frozen. Rather than attempting to salvage your petunias, you passively let the entire idea and label of “plant mom” slip from your brain. A pattern that followed you your entire life - never quite being able to follow through, see something to completion. Sometimes you almost feel as wilted as the abandoned petunias themselves.

This was why Jaemin, with his prince-like features, his romantic gestures and bouquets, swept you off your feet almost instantly. Rather than nagging you about a drawer being left open in the kitchen, a light left on in the living room, the messy dining room table after a night of arts and crafts, he would simply take care of whatever chaos you had left in your wake. You might’ve been a storm, tremendous and unpredictable. Yet Jaemin thought there was nothing more beautiful, and decided he was up for the thrill of the chase.

So it was only fair to humor him, to try again at the “plant mom” thing. After his consistent nagging reached a crescendo that rivaled only the oncoming cicada brood in terms of volume, you found yourselves strolling through the nearby nursery bright and early on a weekend morning.

“You’ve put this off all Spring long,” Jaemin lamented, gesturing wildly with his hand at the expanse of greenhouses before the two of you. “And look! Now there’s nothing pretty left!”

“What are you talking about, Na?” You could easily spot at least three to four different flats of colorful starters that had already caught your eye, and started to walk tentatively over in their direction. Before you could get too far, Jaemin’s firm grasp on your wrist prevented you from moving much further, a pout apparent upon his features. Instead he pivoted you both in the opposite direction, towards the more complex greenery and shrubs. You shot Jaemin a confused glance, which only led to a small laugh escaping his lips, followed by words that left your cheeks as crimson as the nearby roses:

“Those flowers weren’t nearly pretty enough for the balcony, let alone pretty enough for you.”

It had been Jaemin who had pushed you to apply for this job. You were blinded by the familiarity of the stressful retail gig you held long before the two of you even met. The ever changing schedule, along with the grueling work and constant understaffing was your unshifting reality. But you had health benefits and a small, but earnest 401K started - what could you really complain about?

Turns out, quite a bit. It wasn’t until one late night in bed, where Jaemin was massaging your back and shoulders wordlessly after a brutal shift - doing his best to water and tend to you, his most beautiful flower. Silently pressing his hands firmly on, around, all over your shoulder blades in a busy pattern, he tried his best to keep his anger contained to the intensity of his movements. How could they neglect you so? A flower of your caliber needed full sun - and Jaemin didn’t need to feel the tight knots your muscles had twisted themselves into to know that you were wilted. While he was especially gifted at keeping his mouth shut, a brief look at your pained, exhausted expression was all it took for him to slip, speak up.

“You deserve better than this.”

Immediately wide eyed despite how tired you were seconds before, Jaemin realized the vagueness of the previous thought, and clarified, pulling away from your body so that you could roll over, sit up. “N-not like that. This job is going to kill you.”

Your face softened. While stubborn to a fault, even you could admit Jaemin’s argument was sound. When was enough enough?

And then, doubt. Before you could even begin to imagine the possibilities, the blue sky ideas that could await you. Instead, you immediately hone in on the skills you don’t possess, requirements you don’t meet. The idea of not running on automatic, the thought of having to try, of doing something new. The overwhelming fear of rejection. Pulse racing now, each shallow breath in only made the thorns that had grown around your ego constrict themselves further, pressing in uncomfortably.

Jaemin’s arms find their way around your trembling body seconds later, his added weight bringing you back down to earth. You periodically feel his lips leaving gentle kisses, pressed with the utmost care along the back of your neck, the curve of your shoulder. In between, ghost whispers of comfort land reassuringly in your ear.

“You have so much to offer the world.”

“You deserve to be somewhere where you can shine.”

“Let's get you blooming again, yeah?”

The smile that graced Jaemin’s face when you told him you had a second interview scheduled was so bright it could probably be seen from outer space. True to his word, over the last month he helped revise your resume, hunt for job listings, prepare for interviews late into the night. There was gradually less and less tension in your muscles when Jaemin would massage almost nightly. Buds slowly began to appear on your stems, where rot had once been.

The second interview went great - or so you had thought. Then the hours after turned into a day, then two, then the week passed without hearing back. Your expectations had plummeted like a sagging helium balloon, days past its prime. The subject went unmentioned by both you and Jaemin, the silence instead speaking volumes.

The two of you were out on the balcony, music blaring. You’re sitting on an uncomfortable stool watching Jaemin below you, donned in a gardening visor and bright pink gloves. He was planting the flowers you were absolutely frightened to take care of, when the rejection email arrived, unceremoniously.

You blink once, twice, comprehending the words on your phone screen individually. Move forward - are you now set back? Other candidates - no, that’s you, you feel like the “other”, luck - you’ll need it, alright-

Deep breath.

You look over and down. Jaemin is so heavily invested in covering a starter daisy just right with soil that he missed your initial reaction, your brief show of raw emotion. Sensing your eyes on him, he looks up at you, squinting into the sun, smiles bright. If autopilot didn’t fail you now, the small smile on your face would convince him you’re fine, everything was fine.

But Jaemin was intuitive, he was smart, and he knew better. The speaker was playing some cheerful pop song, the weather was cooperating and tolerable. His nail beds were caked with dirt and soil, a favorite feeling of his from childhood that comes with the satisfaction of gardening. His wide eyes were still studying you. There you were, his radiant flower, sitting in the fullest and brightest of sun, and he had nurtured you back to growth.

So why weren’t you blooming?

“Are you okay?”

A small chuckle leaves your lips, knowing the truth and the inevitability of it all. This time when you blink once, twice, in an attempt to avoid Jaemin’s overwhelming gaze, you can feel hot liquid streaming down your cheeks, taste the saltiness of the tears once they hit your lips. You can hear the clatter of gardening tools being abandoned, plastic flats of flowers being shoved aside, and you can feel Jaemin’s broad frame envelop you seconds later, almost knocking both of you off the stool.

You lose track of the time, sobbing into Jaemin’s chest. An exaltation of the saddest manner, but necessary when coming from someone as normally stoic as you. His tight grip around you never wavered, the softest of rocking motions to settle you down, his familiar hands massaging at your weary frame. Loving words on loop from his lips.

“This is just a minor setback...it’s alright...”

“They don’t know what they’re missing.”

“We’ll get you back out there tomorrow.”

Eventually your brain stops screaming, though a headache remains. Your breath steadies into a slow rhythm. As quickly as it had arrived, the overwhelming anxiety courtesy of the rejection email disappeared. The once raging storm had subsided.

And still, Jaemin thought, there was nothing more beautiful.

#na jaemin #nct fanfic #nct dream fanfic #nct fluff #jaemin #nct scenarios #na jaemin fluff #na jaemin fic #jaemin fic #jaemin fluff #nct x reader #jaemin x reader #nct dream fluff

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i-am-just-a-kiddo · 4 years ago

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2020 content creator review

i was tagged by @vishcount as usual, thank you 💕 i answered the questions below the cut, and everyone that is tagged is there too, if you just wanna skip my ramblings and go straight down there. (also gosh i hope all the links work rip)

1. first creation and most recent creation of 2020:

this lan wangji oneshot, apparently. i can’t remember when i actually wrote it, but my ao3 tells me i posted it in january 2020. i remember i just wanted to explore lwj’s time of mourning and dive into his mind of that time, even if it made me eternally sad?

my most recent 2020 creation that is public, is the second chapter to this casmund/edmund character study fic i started writing in 2016. i did not expect to return to that but rewatching the narnia movies did that to me. i guess it’s one of those ever-returning fandoms

2. one of your favorite creations from 2020:

my niemo (nie huaisang/mo xuanyu) fic, no question. diving into this, i fully knew that this pairing probably has a tiny audience and honestly, i did not expect to churn out 30k for them. god. am still suffering because why the fuck did i do that to myself (and everyone reading). thank you vishie for standing by me all the time.

3. a new style you tried this year and a gifset edit that uses it:

my historical taegi AU set in silla korea - i don’t think it’s actually a new style writing-wise, but it was an entirely different process of creating. i did a week of only research, diving into amounts of academic texts and sources to figure out my frame and setting. it was so much fun and in the end, with everything i learned, it felt like the fic was only just the ‘by-product’ of my research. though i must say, writing the story itself was challenging in a very different way, by that i mean that the characters made me furious and yet i had to write it like that cause i like to suffer :)

as for gifset, am not sure? i can’t think of any so i am just linking the daechwita mv cause it’s iconic. i guess this mv is more joseon inspired, while my setting was silla somewhere between the end of 7th and beginning of 8th century; but it was the final straw to finally make me write that historical taegi au i always wanted to write with hwarang tae. also this mv inspired me to have yoongi as a tyrannical king cause why not amirite?

4. a creation to be proud of:

my wei wuxian oneshot during burial mounds; i had a lot of fun writing him and projecting all my nightmares onto him. i went in without a plan and ended up with something i am actually quite proud of? it gave me so much space and room to just...pour out my words and not worry too much about anything else.

5. a creation that took forever:

my post-canon wangxian adventure or qinghe chaos, as i lovingly call it. i think i started writing it in november 2019? not entirely sure about that, i only know it took ages. i wanted to create a whole new political environment, as it takes place somewhere around 70 years after canon (they wanna be immortal, shut up) and it was fun thinking of new challenges and new obstacles that face the new generation of cultivators. unfortunately i did not have the capacity to write a full blown political conflict. that’s why i never really incorporated all my thoughts into the story itself, but hey, if anyone has questions i have notes (and vishie, once again, is the most blessed person to plot with me, ily)

6. your creation from 2020 that received the most notes:

am gonna measure this by kudos on ao3 in that case, which would be the aforementioned lwj oneshot Cold Moon, Long Nights Moon. I feel incredibly fond of it and i’m really happy that people liked it. it feels special somehow and i just want to thank everyone who read that and liked it.

7. a creation you think deserved more notes:

oh i wrote many fics that year for smaller fandoms, which makes me grateful for every single feedback i received. i think i had hoped my previously mentioned historical AU would receive more, but it’s okay because i still loved it.

another one is this princess sook myung/ah roh fic that i wrote for my ‘make hwarang gay again’ series. i finally finished this show and it furstrated me so much - the gay potential that went to waste, the horrendous writing for female characters. i liked the chemistry between ah roh and the princess, and yes i get it, it’s a rare pair and this fandom is kinda dead, but. the girls deserve their shine and love (though still, i am grateful for every single kudos i receive and i am still proud of it)

8. a new fandom you joined and a creation you made for it:

i joined many new fandoms this year for which i wrote, but i want to mention my shang xirui character study for winter begonia, because it was very interesting to explore that? and i had fun too, it was one of the first things i properly wrote after my hiatus, so i felt quite proud. also once again, this fandom has way too little content and the show is underrated.

9. a creation you made that breaks your heart:

i wanna mention two here. first is this wen ning & song lan oneshot that was a pure joy and also very sad to write. i just love these two so much, and i love them together even more. i have many thoughts how much comfort they could give each other and believe me, i have many more that i want to explore in the future.

the second one is the mu nihuang & xiao jingyan oneshot i wrote for the nirvana in fire gift exchange 2020. it broke my heart, but at the same time it felt like something was healing too? it hurt at the pain both characters go through, but i also felt fond that maybe, they were not alone.

10. a ‘simple’ creation that you really love:

hmm there are a few, i mostly want to mention my fei liu character study? it has no plot or anything, it is just an exploration of his mind and thoughts, which was an absolute joy to write and somehow so easy.

i also quite like the yyy series i started - maybe i can write more for these two because they somehow give me the feels.

11. a favorite creation created by someone else:

alright here we go folks:

first i want to mention my dearest @vishcount because newsflash!!! i am the biggest fan. of course i need to mention your wondeful, stunning, breathtaking masterpiece that is your xicheng novel (and yes it is a novel, i say so). it is still ongoing and you started it in 2019, but i need to mention it here because it truly is something that is lifechanging. i feel so blessed that i get the front seats and vip access to all the updates, to all your thoughts and ideas. you go through a lot with it and i am never not proud of you ❤️ another one i want to mention is this wei wuxian & mo xuanyu oneshot you wrote for me because i am still crying about it. i have no words. honourable mentions: your easter islanders (lan wangji and jiang cheng) and this xicheng soulmate au

another creator i want to mention is @the-cloud-whisperer and their nirvana in fire fic Heroic Woman（烈婦） , which is absolutely wonderful. i found you through your ATLA fics (which i adore) and saw you posting about nirvana in fire and this year, finally, i watched the show and was blown away. i love your other NIF fics too, but this one feels very special because i always thought li yang’s character was so incredibly fascinating. thank you for writing this 💕

for more other creations just look at my bookmarks on ao3, there is the untamed, nirvana in fire, yyy the series, hwarang, winter begonia and original sin (from 2020 and many more if you scroll further) please give everyone i mentioned love!!!!!

12. your favorite content creators and blogs that you appreciate:

oh boy here we go. once again @vishcount, @the-cloud-whisperer, @intyalote, @sassyassassy, @isabellaofparma, @passionpeachy, @finny-red, @guzhuangheaven @honeyiling, @holmesandwhatson @bloody-bee-tea, @leoyunxi, @gusucloud, @ohsehuns and many many more that must slip my mind.

all of you, consider yourself tagged in this game and even if we never spoke to each other, i greatly appreciate all of you and i want to give some love. if you feel like doing this, i hope you can have fun! 💕

#phew #another one done #all my usual suspects must be tired of me dfghj #but this is so lovely and fun #thanks dear #tag game #personal #2020 #writing

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alias-b · 5 years ago

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sins of my youth. 003

Billy Hargrove x OC! Evie Fenny~ Also posted to my AO3

Summary: It was common knowledge that Billy Hargrove hated Hawkins. Hated Cherry Lane. Even loathed the strange girl next door. Evie Fenny wasn’t too fond of the chaotic Cali transfer either. An awful high school tradition sparks a chain of events that changes everything, ultimately bringing two frayed souls together.

A/N: Hey all! Enjoy the chapter. Billy trying again to woo Evie. They strike up a bet. TW: Pica. Light fatphobia. Taglist open :)

Chapter 3: To The Devil

“Hey, Karen, here for the two o’clock?” Evie was jotting down slanted notes at reception, crossing the name off. Mona’s salon smelled of mousse and hairspray. Fans blared to keep the air moving. Karen beamed back.

“I am. Need a touch up.” She touched her waves to give them a flick. "I'm so jealous of your curls, how do you get them to sit like that?"

"Genetics, I'm afraid. Ah, I just dip myself in water and pray for the best." The dry humor she was known for. "Mom has them too, if only she didn't inject a gallon of product into her hair every morning."

"Water. Innovative. Your secret is safe with me." Karen paused to laugh when Evie grinned, nodding as she finished the notes.

“Seat four, Claudia’s getting your stuff ready now.” A smile beamed.

“Thanks, sweetie. You’re mom in back too?”

“Yeah, fixing the music, she’ll be out in a sec.” Evie flicked a page and peered around. Yellow walls with baby blue trim. Similar to a dollhouse her mother made once. Too many plants to count, but that was Evie's fault.

She did rounds and cared for each one. Even the new bloom of begonias in one of the back rooms hanging just out a window. Twisting silk petals all blushed and unfurled.

Evie watered them, let the soil grow damp. Listened to the thumping of a dryer full of towels behind her in the cramped space. A rhythm she could write a song to. She saw a fallen petal and plucked it up. Felt the baby smooth texture between her finger pads.

Lifted it idly to her cheek. Let it caress her skin in one graze. It comforted, the mere touch of it. And the calm stillness that followed as if someone was holding her welled euphoria. The petal ran her lips, she felt in control of her senses. This touch that was warm and ticklish. Evie gave a shuddered breath and just wondered.

Wondered.

Evie spent too much of her life wondering.

The petal touched her tongue and she half expected it to melt like a chocolate. Rich and silky. She rolled it damp around her mouth. Chewed for an earthy twang. Looking at the flowers. Feeling them across her running palms. Gently bouncing into place before she swallowed. Evie turned quick, jolting back into her skin for one fleeting moment.

She was aware again. She was here. Still patting her cheek to stay grounded. Maybe the flowers would bloom a dainty beauty inside her. A delicate sensibility that’s evaded her all this life. Another flower petal plucked.

He loves me.

He loves me not.

Fingers pulled a begonia clean. Chanted the little game in her head.

He loves me.

Swallowed. There was a slight of guilt. She’d stolen the power from this living thing and brought it into her own being. That washed away. She was carrying it now. Patting her cheek again to console herself.

No one noticed Evie hidden in the back room. Indulging in control. It felt like a dirty school girl secret. Evie dipped her fingers into the wet soil. Sighed and let the earth fall back into the plot. She brought them up to see the filth. Thought to lick herself clean.

“Evie, can you bring the broom out?” A voice had her heart bursting. Evie yanked the watering can close, feeling the weight of liquid slosh. Her mother was next door fussing with music still. Blissfully unaware. Their usual relationship.

“Y-Yes!” She felt this shame etch her spine. The rush of being caught doing something she shouldn’t have. Which Evie Fenny was already no stranger to. She washed the evidence away and snatched a broom handle. “Coming!”

“Thanks, honey.” Claudia took it and let Evie go about her business. Watering the last few pots at reception.

The bell dinged right behind her as she stretched to water a pot above the door hanging from the ceiling, tip toeing upon a wooden stool.

Billy stood there, face at ass level and didn’t stop her. Not that he minded the view. A pink frilly apron over her violet dress. Black tights and belt to match. Big shiny hoops dangling caught the light above her, illuminating dark hair with a halo. Curls shifted and she eyed Billy Hargrove at the same time the music blasted back up. Dolly Parton of course.

Here you come again

Just when I've begun to get myself together

"Angel...what a view." His bright eyes scanned, full of glittery stars. Tongue crossing pink lips in a vaguely obscene way.

“Billy?” She hitched a breathy gasp and stumbled. Braced to fall on her ass before an arm swooped out to stop her. Muscles pulled Evie into a chest. A very cologned, hard chest. Those damn stars danced like she was in a movie, draped into Billy with the watering can clutched tight. Shifting around. Air sent their hair up and the door shut.

Dolly’s lyric timing was really the worst.

You waltz right in the door

Just like you've done before

And wrap my heart 'round your little finger...

Billy and his long lashes. Fluttering so pretty at her. Pulling her flush into the metalwork of his hot body. Evie lost herself.

Swept up in his arms with no words. No synapses obeying her body’s commands. She choked there looking like the cover of a romance novel. Blushed at him. Flowers in full bloom.

“You won’t soak my head if I make a joke about you falling from heaven, will you?”

There he is. Evie rolled her eyes and found her footing.

“Oh, but I will.” Hands pushed him to arm's length. No thank you followed.

“Hon, you alright?” Claudia had dropped her shampoo bottle. Few women echoed the call, eyes on the gorgeous boy who just strode in. Evie was quick to step from him.

“Fine, fine, I’m…” Evie brushed herself awkwardly and went around the reception counter. Mostly to put distance between them, setting the can aside. Billy followed after to lean against the wood so she kept her voice low. “What are you doing here?”

“I got bored.” He crossed his arms there to shrug, dressed to the nines and hair all done up. Eyes flicking. “Nice apron.”

Evie scowled at him.

“If you’re asking me to that party again, the answer is still-”

“Billy! How nice of you to visit, I hope I see Susan in here again soon.” Mona swept toward them. Both teens leaned out from each other. Billy flashed his teeth, all charm.

“She’s never felt better since coming in for the new do. Made my old man crazy.” He ignored Evie glaring at him.

“That’s what I love to hear.” Mona came up to pat his cheek. Billy slid his eyes to her daughter. “What can we do for you?” She touched golden hair to sweep it aside. Mona was just the friendly sort. “You know, we do boy’s hair too. All the time. You look like you take care of these darling curls.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, but actually I was just walking by and I saw Evie in her apron and thought we’d hit that burger joint for lunch.” His shiny teeth flashed to smile so Evie cut in.

“And,” her voice rose, “I was just carefully explaining to Billy that we’re super swamped today. I couldn’t possibly go. Shucks.”

Both Mona and Billy peered to see exactly three customers getting their hair done. No one outside. The appointment book near empty too.

“So busy.” Evie pressed her teeth, eyebrows lifting for her mother to get the hint. "Extremely."

She didn’t.

“Oh, no, Evie. It’s your winter break." Arms waved at her daughter. Near ready to give Billy Evie's hand in marriage. "Go have some fun with the nice young man.”

What a laugh.

“Are you sure? I can stay...literally all day here. I can move in here and never have to leave ever. Never. Ever.” Evie was getting her apron snatched off by her mother. A couple shoves got her around the counter.

“No, no. Go, shoo, have fun with a boy. Good to see you, Billy. Tell your parents that I said, hi. Have Susan bring your little sister in next time. What I wouldn’t give to style that pretty red hair she has.”

“I’ll let them know.” Billy actually held the door for Evie as she shrugged on her coat. Another heated expression before she huffed and went out. Ire. He can work with that. “Bye, ladies.” A wink.

“Bye, Billy.” Came the chorus. Both teens grinned all the way to the end of the window before hands snatched Billy’s collar when they were out of sight.

“What the hell are you doing, Billy?” Evie shook him by the leather jacket. Even the scrunching snarl at him was cute. Actually had his taller, broad frame pressed into a brick wall. Made Billy pause to observe her face. Mauve lips frowned deeper.

This was a cruel thing and she couldn’t stand it. This back and forth. These sides of Billy that only came out when it suited him best.

“Making it up to you. Christ, just fucking let me. Easy...” He shrugged off, going around her. She was being difficult about this, maybe rightfully so, but it still gnawed at him.

“C’mon.” Billy went on. Not bothered by the cold in his white button up shirt and jeans. Tucked and tight. The gold saint chain bounced against his chest as he walked. Hard, intent steps with a lazy wave. “You like burgers? Who doesn’t, I’m hungry.”

“I don’t need you to make it up to me, Billy.” She trailed after him. “This weird game you’re playing really doesn’t interest me.”

“This town is so fucking boring. You know that?” He spoke instead, clicking his tongue and looking beyond them. “Got nothing to do, why not hang out? We’re neighbors.”

“When have you acted like a neighbor?”

“Right fucking now, Angel.” Blue eyes shifted to spot the right building.

He was such an ass and she was still willingly walking beside him.

“Ask Tommy or Carol to hang out.”

“No one likes Tommy or Carol, would you want to hang out with them in your free time? Fucking annoying. Carol wants to fuck me and Tommy? ...You know, he might want to fuck me too. I'm the whole package.”

“So, you’re with me because I’m not annoying like them and I don’t want to fuck you?”

Billy turned sharp to see her at the crosswalk. Golden curls swept up. Almost offended.

“Who said you didn’t want to fuck me?” The shit asked it so genuinely too. "I never said that."

“Literally me, just now.” She pressed the walk button because he had her under a spell and Billy went before it changed. “Ugh.” Evie, ignoring her better judgment, paced after him. Street was empty.

“You’re plenty annoying, Fenny.” Billy strode inside the diner and didn’t wait before he grabbed a table. Slapped a plastic menu down across the way until she moved to take the offered seat. A waitress appeared from nothing, but Evie figured Billy just had that effect.

“Know what you want, sugar?”

“Number three. Coke. Cheese Fries. Jalapenos on the burger and on the fries. And whatever the lady wants.” He stole an ashtray and dug for a smoke, not looking at either girl. Few people eyed them and Evie gave in.

They were both still pretty hungover and she didn’t want to make a scene. Which Billy knew well and used to his advantage.

“I will have the exact same thing.”

“Are you sure?” The waitress looked Evie up and down as she said that. Oh, so carefully. Evie paused to tense up, acutely aware that she didn’t look right across from this gorgeous, golden boy.

The thought hadn’t even struck her until it was pointed out, that’s what sobered it painfully.

“Yeah, she’s sure. We’ll take a large chocolate milkshake also. Two straws.” Billy snapped, flicking his menu up. The waitress bowed her head and hurried away. Evie’s jaw hung open while he played with his lighter distractedly. Eyes flicked up. “What, are you catching flies over there?” He lit a cigarette and her mouth shut.

“I’m in the fucking Twilight Zone.” Elbows hit the table

“That stuff you said Heather liked...” Billy tapped his ashes. Ignored the waitress when she set Cokes down. “That was about you, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, so?”

“Museums and horror flicks. Noted.” He shrugged. “You into that poetry shit? Always writing.”

“Song lyrics.” Evie took a breath and answered slower. This was weird. It was weird that...it wasn’t so weird all the sudden. Billy did what suited him. Blue eyes lingering on her then darting all over. He sat back with one boot up on the seat. Actually listening. Smoking. Present. “I play guitar and sing."

Yeah, he heard her guitar from his window every other night if it was open.

"You're always writing too," she went on, "I know it isn't school work." Observant.

"I'd rather write some shitty story than listen to a lecture about nothing in class." Billy's ashes hit the tray again. “Are you going to be the next Dolly?”

“My mom would love that.” She broke to laugh at herself and sip. “More Kate Bush or Stevie Nicks.”

“Thank fuck, one Dolly is enough.” He snuffed his smoke out. “Why won’t you go to the party with me?”

“Why do you suck with rejection?” She asked it bolder than intended. Half expected Billy to get upset and walk out. Smoke etched out his pink lips when he chuckled, catching his tongue between teeth. This girl was all four seasons in one spitting firecracker.

“You got a wall up bigger than your mom’s hair, Evangeline.”

“I built it myself, William, thanks.” Evie smiled sweetly that time, gazes locked. He twitched at the use of his birth name. A beat of staring before food arrived.

“Will that be-?”

“Yeah, we’re good.” Billy plucked a fry up, watched melted cheese string from it before he chewed and the waitress saw herself off. “Don’t tell me you’re not gonna eat like normal in front of me.”

He caught Evie picking up a knife and fork. She shot him a look. Dropped them and stole the milkshake to sip. Passed it over for him before she went for the burger.

“There you go.”

“Stuff it.” She grabbed a fry and watched him take the biggest bite he could. Cheese drooped out the bottom. “Hangover miracle, huh.”

“Hmm.” Billy was too busy chewing. Evie took a bite, sipped more coke and decided to engage this.

“Can I ask why your dad moved you across the country during your last year of high school?”

“New bullshit job.” He went at his fries, smearing them around cheese to eat with crunching jalapenos. “Wanted to start his white picket fence over since it didn’t work the first time and he thought he could spite me in the process.”

Billy licked his thumb, eyes elsewhere.

“I’ll bet he just wanted away from memories of my mom.”

Evie paused carefully. It was the first he’d spoken of her.

“Oh.” She pulled for a napkin, eyes on her food. Peculiar how quick he got real with her here. Billy Hargrove was usually putting up thick layers of artificial bullshit. Plastic cheese on greasy fries.

“Didn’t help that I was in and out of fights.”

“That changed?” She reached for the milkshake. “So, your mom-”

“Did you really get into a fight last year?” Billy had finished the burger and was now going at his fries again, gestured so she slid the milkshake back.

“I don’t remember it well.”

“Bullshit, Fenny.” He smirked to himself. “I’d know. You see red and you remember how it tastes every single time.”

“You’re the expert.” She shrugged, wiping her greasy fingers on napkins. Left a few bites of burger because a voice drilled to do so. Same with the fries. “He was a jerk and...my parents just got divorced. I was upset. I let him have it. Everyone got dramatic about it because I’m Evie Fenny and not Randy Savage.”

"So, how'd it taste?" Billy looked at her eyes and saw them flash.

He’s had enough! Students kept chanting that in her ear. Pulling Evie and her clawing talons out of the huge football player under her knees. She breathed pure smoke. Hair flying all directions. Felt the coolness of dewy grass and warmth of blood crusting her fingers.

"It was like..."

Descending upon Tannen like thunder. Heavy rain and cracks of lightning followed by a boom. Thunderous applause too. She stared back at Billy with a dreamy expression. Recalled cowering through rainstorms as a little girl. Into the closet where she felt safer.

Her father, Jack, always found her. He’d sit next to her in there and bring her close under one arm.

“Don’t be scared, little mouse.” Never could make out his smile in darkness.

"It's...hot metal. Lava pouring down your throat trying to harden inside you." She got real too and Billy's lip lifted. Soft as can be. "Like it's making a cast of you in that specific moment of rage."

Evie blinked out of the memory. Watched Billy stare again before he pushed the milkshake back to her side. A peace offering. She accepted and drank, let lipstick print on the candy cane colored straw.

“I’m going to ask you out.” He decided gentler. Intent. “New Years Eve. Seven on the dot. You can show up in a nice dress when I knock and we’ll go. Or not.”

“You might want a back up girl.” Evie sucked in her cheeks, eyes had to leave his to see the table. Thighs pressing. He'd definitely just undressed her.

“No need.” Billy crossed his arms to shrug. “Don’t want one. Already asked the girl I want to take. C’mon, Fenny, quit hiding and get out. What are you waiting for?”

“I’m not hiding.” Evie shook her head, chest sinking. “You’re the one hiding.”

“Me?” His shoulders rose. Got all puffy like a peacock.

“Hawkins High King. Billy Hargrove.” She lifted her hands for dramatic effect. Leaned forward to match him in intensity. “Thrashing forth in a billow of hairspray and cigarette smoke. Sun left in your wake along with a trail of broken hearts. You pose for them and they eat you up. There won’t be much left..."

That sentiment kicked Billy in the chest.

"...Everything you say is layered in rage and cheese. It’s mind numbing. I have a wall up, but you put up this flashy front that just blinds everyone. You want their eyes to bleed for you. Get real, Hargrove.”

“I’ll get as real as you want. Ask me anything.” Came the challenge.

“Okay. Why’d you beat up Steve Harrington?”

“Cause he was lying to me and because I hated him.” Billy shrugged, eyes averting. "Because I wanted to taste hot metal. It's home to me."

“Lying? About what?”

“Still don’t know and frankly, I don’t care anymore.” A quick sip from his coke. “Go to the party with me.”

“You just don’t give up.” She peered into her glass. Wanted to eat the ice cubes clicking there.

“Maybe I’m asking you not to give up on me.” There was something almost sincere there like Billy was touching the earth for the first time.

“Why are you trying to trick me?” Evie pushed her cup aside even though her teeth chattered to crunch.

“Trick you?”

“This party thing.” She paused when the waitress returned to clear the table. Leaving the check face down. “You’ve been nothing but an ass to me since you moved in. Ignored me. Probably can’t even recall what I was wearing when we met.”

“Your mom’s hair kinda got in the way when she brought you over.” He joked and didn’t miss her stifle amusement, eyes rolling. “It’s not a trick, we might actually have something in common.”

“What’s that?”

“The people in this hell town aren’t very interesting. Maybe I find you interesting.” His brow quirked. Fingers tapped the lacquer table.

“I don’t find you all that interesting.” Evie smiled that time and Billy matched it.

“That’s fine. You will."

"So certain?"

"Give me a chance.” Billy’s eyes flicked over her before he sat up. Didn’t miss a damn beat. “You wore red button up shirt tucked into a little denim skirt with suspenders. Black tights. Grey shoes. Sunglasses with big white cat frames. That same gold necklace with the music note and dangle earrings to match. You introduced yourself with your mom. Took the sunglasses off and even had gold on your eyelids too. I remember it.”

"Yeah?" Her lips parted with the audible breath he stole. And oh so easily. Evie leaned closer so he followed. Hooded eyes all aflutter.

"Made your eyes look..." Billy searched. "Molten. Volcanic like."

"Molten?" Evie wasn't even hearing herself anymore.

"Just, I don't fucking know, warm like..." The beach. California. Home. Billy lost the thought and licked his lips. "You just looked painted."

"Painted?" Evie had mused then. Entertained now at his odd way of description. Tried not to think about Billy running a wet paintbrush down her bare neck.

"Yeah." Billy breathed slower. Painted. With the autumn breeze and sun in her hair, slowly brushing curls around those full, tinting cheeks. A subject the fucking Pre Raphaelites would have lost their shit over and painted all seasons. He could picture Evie floating in an endless pool being kissed by fallen flower petals. Draped in miles of iridescent chiffon reclined in emerald green grass. Looking straight at the viewer with intensity and still dreaming all the same.

"You had on a black tee. Jeans. Your saint chain. A pair of aviators tucked into your denim coat pocket." Evie peered under the table. "Same boots... You looked like you wanted to be literally anywhere else."

"That'd be the truth. Wasn't you or your mom's chipper greeting." Billy was looking down now. "Just realized I couldn't see the ocean anymore is all. You held out your hand and I ignored it because I'm an asshole. We established that this morning and now I'm making it up to you."

“And you still peeked at my chest." Evie flashed a cheekier smile. "Said your name only after Neil gave you this hard stare. Max sped by on a skateboard, you must have thought I was distracted. But, I caught you.”

“I did check your tits out, sue me. I have eyes. You have tits. The world spins.” He smacked a couple bills down as she went through her pockets. The spell on them both shattered to rain. “Already paid. Let’s go, the waitress is staring at us. We'll make a grand exit, huh?”

“But-” Evie stopped when he grasped her wrist and pulled her up into his side. Spied the waitress scowling as he held her hip and they went out. Got away from the window before she pulled from him. “Get your mitts off me, Hargrove.”

“Still open for questions.” He sniffed and they went back down the street. Another smoke was lit.

“Okay. I'll go for the obvious. Do you think we look funny together?” She crossed her arms when Billy leaned against the side of his car.

“Who cares. You’re making a big deal over nothing. It’s just a party.”

“The world cares. That waitress back there. Kids at school.” She shrugged.

“You.” He clicked his tongue, head tilting.

“I don’t care.”

“That’s why you don’t want to go to the party with me, you’re stuck on what they’ll think.” He pointed with the red hot cherry of his cigarette. “Fuck ‘em. As your Louisiana folk would say: to the devil with false modesty.” He mocked her mother's accent with that.

“Maybe, it’s because you’ve been a jerk to me. That reason enough?” Evie dropped her arms and Billy paused to nod, inhaling. “I don’t know what this is, Billy, but...just stop it. Ask someone else.” She eyed her mom’s salon and took a few steps back. “Thanks for lunch. I gotta go, my mom won’t turn this place over to the evening girl unless forced.”

“Can’t tell me what to do, Angel.” He stood taller. “I’ll bet you another Coke that Mona invites me to dinner tonight. TV included.”

Evie gaped at him.

“A Coke?”

“I’m easy to please. I’m gonna come to your house for dinner. Hour of TV at least.” He cocked his head. So full of pride.

“Why are you dragging this day out?” She turned to face him again.

“I want to meet your cat.” Billy wrapped his lips around the smoke. Exhaled after. “That little creep stares at me from your window day in and out.”

“He doesn’t like boys.”

“Bet he’ll like me.”

“I bet he won’t. He’ll stay in his bed and not spare you the time. It'll hurt your ego.” Evie came to Billy with her own certainty.

Bourbon was old. He liked to sleep, have his ears scratched, and purr. A lot. He hid when company came and keeps a safe distance once wandering out.

“Oh, another challenge. Okay, Fenny. We’re doing this.” Billy came to her, flicking his smoke to crush it under the toe of his boot. Cold wind blew. “When I come to dinner tonight-”

“If.” She corrected.

“When Mona invites me with her beat to hell Louisiana accent,” Billy insisted, “you get to play hostess. If that cat takes a liking to me, you’re going to the New Years party with a Hargrove.” He towered there and studied her.

“And that’s if you can even set foot into my house... It’s not a date. The dance.”

“What do you have to lose here?” Billy offered his hand and Evie eyed him suspiciously. Lips pursed before she reached to take it. His other broad palm came up to prolong it, engulfed hers before he leaned in even closer. Whispering and sultry. “Oh, and literally everyone in that place is already staring at us. We look just fine together, Evangeline. To the devil.”

Evie hitched a breath. Inhaled his cologne and twisted to see many eyes snap aside behind the glass.

“Ah, shit.” She tugged from his warm palms and went inside. Billy, cool and collected, trailed after. He cleared his throat and spoke up.

“I just really don’t want to impose, Angel.” The tone changed and her body locked, turning to question it before her mother replied at reception first.

“Impose?” Mona blinked, snapping a book shut.

“I-”

“Your daughter kindly invited me to dinner, I figured it was too short notice for her lovely mother." Billy made a thing of it to sigh with longing. "Any other day, I’d-”

Evie's entire face scrunched at him. Cheeks red like strawberries when her jaw set.

“Oh, no! You’re always welcome. We’re having Swedish meatballs. Easy thing to whip up. I always make so much extra, don’t I, Evie?”

Evie Fenny hated Billy Hargrove. Officially and totally. Hated his smug little face.

Her tongue clicked at him.

“Mm hm.”

Billy only smiled, winking. Too easy.

“What a wonderful idea to invite him, baby. I’m going to be headed home soon. We might have a late meal. Is eight alright for you?” Mona tucked Evie’s curls behind her ear and flashed a hundred watt grin.

“Eight is perfect, Ms. Fenny.” Billy charmed the entire room. Except the painted, plush storm cloud in front of him. “I also have to say, has anyone ever told you that you look like a brunette Dolly Parton?”

The woman about squealed at him.

“You know, I get it sometimes.” She touched her collar with one hand and pushed at him. “Does your family want to come over for dinner?”

“Unfortunately, no. My dad is taking Susan out. You know, date night. Max is spending the night at a friend’s house. Police Chief’s new kid. So, I’m all alone tonight.”

“Well, not anymore, come over and I’ll get you fed. My door is always open, Billy.” Mona tapped his chin. “Eight o’clock sharp.”

“I’ll be there.” He turned to Evie. Speechless. Voice lowered as he leaned in to brush one knuckle along her jawline. “And I’ll be seeing you, Angel.”

Billy seemed to linger for her to say something more, finger curling into unruly locks.

"To the devil." She uttered with pointed brown eyes. Unable to leave him.

The curl bounced back into place. Billy heard her lungs sputter with need and bit his lip, sly. A final wink just for Evie.

One bell and he was gone.

“Mom.” Evie broke to moan and pull herself back together, following. “Why?”

“Why, what? Let the boy come over for dinner.” She plucked up a comb to put some finishing touches on a woman’s hairdo, nodding to her stylist.

“He’s trouble, you know about him. The whole town does.”

“Sweetheart, we’re always going to be hospitable. Especially to troubled souls. It’s what Dolly and the Bible would have wanted.” That was always Mona's sound advice.

“Christ.”

“Evangeline.” Mona shot her a look. Fussed. “Do not take that tone with the Lord, young lady.”

“I’m sorry, just,” she blew air out her lips and whined, “I can’t stand him.”

“Seemed awful cozy out there or have I gone blind now? All the smiles and nicknames.”

Evie bit her tongue at that because there was plenty Mona chose not to see.

“Billy does that, he tricks you and then steps on you because it’s a game to him.”

“Maybe he’s trying to do better. I know he gotten into some trouble, but what do I always tell you?”

Evie crossed her arms tight, hip cocked. Monotone.

“You’d tell me Dolly would want us to see the light of a clear blue morning.”

“And has Dolly ever steered me wrong?” Mona pointed with the comb before she fluffed the locks up. “Perfect, go ahead and finish this. Good work, dear.”

“Thanks, Miss Mona.” A new hire moved to finish, pushing large glasses up her nose. Mona went around them and Evie followed.

“I know, I know. Be brave and kind. Honest and always open your heart. Blah. I’ll be civil if he is.”

“Oh honey, let a boy be nice to you once in awhile. You might like it.”

“Pssh. Find me one first.” Evie passed her mom to get her bag. “They only get nice when they’re older and mature.”

“I wouldn’t always bet on that, baby.” Mona replied softer than intended. “Cruelty takes so many forms, that’s how it seeps into our lives so easily. It’s a comfort.”

Evie didn’t find something to argue with there. Just watched her mother’s back tense.

Let the words flutter like silken petals on the wind.

To the damn devil.

~~~~~~~

Thanks everyone xoxo! Askbox is open. TAGGED:: @80sbxtch @nottherightseason @orxhidshavana @alagalaska @alongcamedolly

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goldleafacrossyourlips · 5 years ago

Text

Uneasy Lies the Head - Dark Lord/OC - Chapter 3

Chapters - 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13

Chapter 3 - Lavender and Begonia

Samara had just been ready to begin relaxing when sounds down the hallway roused her. Loud voices and thumps. Never a good sign.

Phlox hopped off the bed and waited at the closed door for her to follow him. As she opened the door, she found that the noises were coming from Sabrina’s room. Samara began jogging down the hallway. Her panic and worry rising as the loud voices and thumping didn’t cease. Her Shadows writhed at her sides from her heightened emotions. Normally, when dealing with Sabrina, Samara tried to keep the Shadows to a minimum. But if Sabrina was in trouble, they could be of help. They’d helped Samara plenty enough times already.

She forwent knocking on the door and instead flung it open.

“Sabrina…?” Samara’s question died on her lips as she took in the scene. Sabrina was in the middle of the room with a handsome man behind her. Taking in his appearance and how Sabrina seemed unthreatened by him, Samara assumed this was Nicholas Scratch. She dismissed him and instead glanced at the figure that was pacing/stomping around the room and kept covering his face with bloodied hands.

“Ambrose? What happened? Why are you covered in blood?! Are you okay?” Samara stumbled forward, her arms outreached towards her blood-drenched cousin. She grasped his forearms and forced him to look at her. His pupils were blown wide. As he began rambling his story, Samara absentmindedly flicked her hand and called forth a calming draught from her bag.

“He’s dead.” Ambrose’s voice was tight and full of dread.

“What? Who’s dead?”

“I was guarding his chambers. And then there was blood.” Samara could see her cousin trembling as he spoke. “Oh dear Lucifer the Anti Pope is dead and I don’t remember why or how or who.” He looked at his hands and finally noticed the blood covering them. “It wasn’t me you have to believe me.”

Samara once again grasped his arms after forcing the calming draught into one of his hands. She unstoppered the vial and felt even herself relax the slightest bit as the scent of lavender was released.

“Of course not, Ambrose. We believe you. Now drink up and we’ll figure out what’s going on.” Samara squeezed his arms in encouragement as he guzzled down the draught. Instantly his breathing evened and his trembling stopped. They were going to continue talking when they heard Phlox growling and chittering at the door and Salem yowling and hissing downstairs. Soon they were followed by yelling voices downstairs. Samara heard mention of a traitor and felt her metaphorical hackles rise. No one messed with her family.

The four of them rushed to open the bedroom door to hear better. Phlox stood diligently by his Witch’s side. They could hear stomping and running around downstairs.

“They’re coming for me. If Blackwood and the Judas boys find me they’re going to murder me!” Ambrose bemoaned, the draught helping keep his anxiety and worry at a low level. Samara could still sense the fear in his voice. Sabrina began to run down the hallway.

“Nick, get Ambrose someplace safe. Go. Go now! I’ll stall as long as I can.” She whipped back around and continued to run down the hallway. Samara spun around and wrapped her distraught cousin in a tight hug.

“It’ll be okay Ambrose. We’re not gonna let anything happen to you.” Samara whispered to him, squeezing him one last time before glaring over at her little cousin’s beau.

“If anything happens to him, it’ll be on your head. And I plan on collecting.” Her voice was low and filled with promises. She watched as Nick nodded a mile a minute before she too left down the hallway. She heard the door shut behind her and sent a quick prayer that they’d escape.

She began to descend the stairs and saw Sabrina on the groundfloor with her Aunties, Blackwood and his posse. Samara stopped on the landing above the final stairs.

“What is the meaning of all this?” Her hand rested on the railing beside her and her head was craned regally. She felt a deep sense of satisfaction as Blackwood caught sight of her and a scowl worked its way onto his face.

“Ambrose Spellman has committed a crime so heinous I will not stop until I have his head!” The High Priest bellowed. Samara forced confusion to show on her face.

“Ambrose? Crime? What happened?” She breathed the questions and turned towards her Aunties. Both held concern on their faces as well as slight confusion.

“Have you seen Ambrose, Samara?” Zelda demanded an answer. Samara focused on her severe Aunt and felt true fear begin to curdle in her stomach at how she looked. Aunt Zelda was a constant beacon of strength and rationality. To see her as shaken as she was then would cause even the thickest of people to feel unsettled.

“No, I haven’t seen him at all. What’s going on?” Samara questioned.

“You don’t actually think Ambrose could’ve killed the Anti Pope do you Auntie?” Sabrina’s voice was small with her question. Samara reached over and squeezed her cousin’s hand.

“He was covered in blood. Dagger in hand. And when he was questioned he spirited himself away.” Aunt Zelda spat her reply. Samara felt the Shadows in the room twitched as her ire increased. She focused more of her energy into keeping them calm.

“Yes because he thought Father Blackwood was going to slaughter him. Like he had the other boys.” Aunt Hilda grit her teeth through her rebuttal. Samara stared at the two in shock. There were others?

“Others were a part of this? How many?” Samara questioned. Her worry and fear for Ambrose burned white hot in her chest. She knew her carefree and knowledgeable cousin was not capable of treachery like this.

“There were two other boys. They were dealt with before Ambrose ran.” Aunt Zelda’s brows furrowed as she remembered the scene.

“Aunt Zelda, this is Ambrose. Cousin Ambrose. Our Ambrose.” Sabrina was pleading for Aunt Zelda to understand her reasoning. Yet Aunt Zelda was having none of her pleas.

“Yes. The very same Ambrose that plotted to blow up the Vatican.” Aunt Zelda’s attention was transferred to Blackwood’s as he entered the room. Samara looked away from him with a sneer.

“There’s no trace of him. Come, Zelda. We must return to the Academy immediately. Tomorrow will be all the more challenging.” Blackwood ordered. Samara shot a glare towards him at how commanding he was. Here he was, in what was once her home, hunting down her dear cousin for a murder she didn’t believe he did and the almighty High Priest was throwing orders around like they were candy.

“Wait, you’re not going through with the Wedding are you?” Sabrina asked the question on all their minds.

“The Church of Night needs strong leadership right now. The hunt for Ambrose Spellman will continue. So too will our Wedding.” Samara fought to keep her Shadows under control at his words. A hunt and a wedding. How lovely. The last thing she needed on top of all this was for Blackwood to catch her Shadows doing something and suddenly she’d end up the next Witch he sent his little mob after.

“Surely the circumstance…” Aunt Zelda never had the chance to finish as Blackwood interrupted her.

“It is our Dark Lord will, Zelda. We shall wed following the funeral of his Unholy Eminence.” Blackwood spoke to Aunt Zelda like she was a simpleton with not a brain cell to spare. Samara held her tongue though, as she promised her Aunt she would.

“A joint wedding and funeral?” Sabrina’s tone was of nothing but disgust and horror. Samara felt pride fill her at her cousin’s response to the loathsome worm.

“Hail Satan! Hail Judas!” As soon as the last chant left Blackwood and then his lackeys’ mouths, Samara felt a chill race up her spine. She missed the concerned, confused, worried faces her family shared at the chant; too caught up in processing her response. That is wrong. Not right. Fix it. Betrayer. Liar. The words kept swirling around her head. She tried to refocus on her surroundings but the rage came back; rage similar to when the False God and Angels were mentioned. She hardly noticed everyone leaving until it was just her and Sabrina left.

“I don’t know how we’re going to be able to sleep tonight.” Sabrina’s voice was tense and wary. It was just enough to snap Samara out of whatever she was in. Samara glanced up at her cousin and saw how wired she was. She placed her hand atop her cousin’s.

“Lucky you that you have a Potion Mistress for a cousin. Come along.” Samara patted Sabrina’s hand and got up. Together they entered the kitchen. Sabrina sat at the table while Samara flitted around the space, gathering ingredients, mixing, heating and pouring. Once it was done Samara placed the warm mug into Sabrina’s hands.

“Have this empty by the time you get to your room. Then lay your head down and think of sweet thoughts. Go now. Goodnight, dear cousin.” Samara pressed a kiss to Sabrina’s forehead and shooed her on her way. Watching her cousin sip her concoction as she walked to her room, Samara began to clean her mess once again. She was about to start on the dishes when Phlox began corralling her towards her room.

“Alright you sneaky fox! We’re going!” Samara chuckled at her familiar’s antics. As they entered the room, Samara with her mug in head and yet to be sipped, Phlox once again hopped up on the bed and nestled down. Samara placed her drink on the bedside table and went to her bag. She pulled out the black dress she’d brought with her for the Wedding. She splayed it out on top of the chaise beside the wardrobe.

As she went about setting everything out for ease of getting ready tomorrow, her thoughts continually drifted back to the events of today. Had it only been this afternoon that she’d helped her Auntie bury a body? It felt like ages ago. Ambrose couldn’t have killed the Anti Pope. Set aside his gentle nature, what would he stand to gain from it? Besides having to be on the run for the rest of his life there was no positive. It made no sense. One thing Spellmen’s weren’t was stupid. If there was a plan to be made it was more than likely well thought out and perfectly executed. Yes, her and Sabrina were still learning but they had only been on the Earth for maybe 2 decades. Ambrose and her Aunties had been alive much longer and that spoke for experiences. So why would Ambrose crack and kill the Anti Pope? Because he didn’t do it. Or if he did then it wasn’t a conscious thought. It was probably Blackwood that good for nothing, vile, loathsome, disgusting…..

Samara’s musings were cut short as her Shadows twisted around her, trying to comfort her as they’ve always done. However, they grabbed at her legs and feet, causing her to trip towards the bedpost she was closest to. She managed to catch herself on the post herself, stopping its projected aim at her eye. She crawled into the bed and felt the Shadows trying to smother her in their version of comfort. She chuckled and agreed to stop thinking about her cousin. No use in dwelling over what happened or was going to happen. She’d make sure her cousin was safe.

Samara grabbed her drink and began sipping it. She closed her eyes and waited for the influence of sleep to grasp at her. Soon enough it began to drag at her eyelids and slow the cogs whirring in her brain. She made sure to set the empty mug on the table before allowing herself to slip into sleep’s sweet embrace.

#caos #Chilling Adventures of Sabrina #dark lord #oc #ofc #dark lord x reader #dark lord x oc #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar x oc #lucifer morningstar x ofc #lucifer morningstar #Hilda #sabrina #ambrose #zelda #spellman #i hate tagging

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curanonemu · 5 years ago

Text

ateez soulmates au | jung wooyoung

✧ Blooming Flowers AU ✧

tags: wooyoung's pov, mentions of other members, a very poor attempt at mastering floriography, i TRIED, overuse of colours, cuteness cute mess :D

word count: 2,044

I hope you guys like this~ ♡

For as long as he can remember, flowers have bloomed around him. He'll be fine, it'll be the most ordinary moment in the world, and suddenly something will click and there he'll be, petals floating around him as flowers bloom from his skin.

It's funny how he can't handle too much of pollen, and when the flowers are more than he can take, he sneezes and sneezes and his skin itches like anything. Yet, while the flowers bloom outwardly, they make something within him bloom.

Solidarity.

A connection like no other, because he's not the only one for whom the flowers thrive.

Wooyoung found out early on in life how his soulmate identifier works.

After losing a dance competition that he'd poured his all into, and coming back home feeling like the biggest idiot on the planet, he'd held it in long enough to make it to his room before slamming the door shut and slumping down to the floor as he let out everything. Tears wet his cheeks, face hot and eyes burning, and all he felt was the anguish from not being good enough.

He was just not good enough, that was all; all he had to do was be better, practice till he was perfect. But how could he fool himself at that moment? The crippling dejection made it hard to even swallow around the lump in his throat while he cried silently, nails digging into his palms as he tried to stop himself from letting out any sound.

Then the piercing pain from his nails had softened into a foreign feeling, nails free from digging into his skin and his fists felt too full to remain clenched. He'd unclenched them, let his hands fall open as he stared at his palms in wonder. There, instead of blood, lay a single flower on each palm.

On his left, a purple flower that he didn't recognise, petals curling in quite a lovely manner, a contrast from what he was feeling.

On his right was a sprig of heather, a light purple, almost-lavender which stood out against his skin, countless delicate buds brushing across his palm as he held it tenderly. Heather was one of the few flowers he recognised from hearing his mother talk about them.

But why was it, and the nameless flower, doing with him? He'd pondered over it for a moment, before getting up. He couldn't ask his mother when his face was absolutely terrible. All he could do was use some trusty search engine to answer his questions.

'Heather, Lavender: Solitude or loneliness.'

Loneliness? Was he lonely? He wasn't. All he felt was the solitude that came after dashing everyone's hopes to the ground and stomping on them, and coming back home with a loss. So, yes, solitude it was.

The moment he figured that out, he also noticed that his emotions... seemed to be overlapping with something else. Like two parallel lines finally swerving and intersecting, by some miracle or disaster.

It was as if he had dual trains of thought, dual feelings, emotions, dual everything. But instead of it being chaotic and giving him a headache, he just felt like waves across channels had bled over into each other, finally. A dull hum which in no way disrupted his line, merely providing comfort in its constancy like it was always meant to do so.

But the longer he stared at the flowers, the calmer he felt. He was Jung Wooyoung, and Jung Wooyoung didn't get sad for long.

The thrum of another in his veins sang a bit, and as he watched, he sprouted more flowers, blue blooms in his palms as leaves rustled over his wrists. He took a deep breath, before tilting his head and wiping his eyes against his shoulder, before he stood up and walked out of his room, leaving the door open.

"Mom?" he'd asked and she'd turned around, mouth opening in surprise before she shut it as she took in his appearance. Her lips had twitched, before she sighed. "Wooyoung, what do you feel right now?"

"That's what I want to know."

"Do you feel particularly hopeful?" She asked, and he wracked his brain before nodding. Yeah, it was a huge turn from his emotions just minutes ago. "Those are irises, Wooyoung."

He looked at her for further explanation, but when she turned back to her work, he asked again, "Why am I growing flowers?"

"I don't know, maybe you're a farmer?"

He'd whined at her, trying to get it out of her to no avail, and had finally resigned himself to believing that he had a blooming syndrome before she'd told him about soulmates.

Right.

Those existed.

Did that mean his soulmate was also sprouting flowers?

He suddenly remembered the emotions and thoughts that weren't entirely his own, snaking around and intertwining with his, and that's when he'd realised.

When Jung Wooyoung and his soulmate felt the same things, flowers bloomed.

The mystery had been solved. All that remained was knowing which flower meant what.

Fast forward to a few years later, when Wooyoung gets a job in a flower shop only because he wants to know what his soulmate is thinking.

It's a stupid reason, his co-worker and new friend San laughs at him, though he does call it cute because San's as much of a sap for his unknown soulmate as Wooyoung is for his mystery flower person.

Yeosang rolls his eyes at him, and Wooyoung would like to think it's out of the other boy's affection for him, and not because he knows exactly how much Wooyoung has pined over this soulmate that he's never met, and wanted to know what they think.

It's such a hit-or-miss phenomenon, honestly. But it always ends the same way.

Wooyoung will be going about his day, completely alright, and then something happens which sets him on edge, and all of a sudden begonias will bloom from his fingers, leaving him to catch them all, and probably sneeze too.

He'll be feeling like he's on the top of the world, and chrysanthemums will grace him with their presence.

But they always transition into something stupidly romantic, which leaves his face burning and heart beating way too fast. It's not his fault his soulmate likes him as much as he likes them!

Moments after Wooyoung's reeling from a sneezing fit, with his heart blooming like the daffodils that are adorning the counter of the shop, San ends up finding his soulmate. Right before Wooyoung's eyes, though he understands only when they hug and shed tears and link their pinkies and San smiles at him gleefully.

San, the one who secretly wanted to meet his soulmate more than anything. Wooyoung's happy for him, he really is, but when someone's identifier is a string tied around their finger, it's only a matter of time before they find their soulmate.

In contrast, Wooyoung has to play roulette with his emotions to find out what his soulmate's feeling, forget actually ever meeting them. It makes his mood sour for a moment, before he shakes his head. He promised himself he'd try to be as positive as he can, if only to make sure his soulmate is too. He never wants them to sprout flowers of sadness, just so they can both revel in it. He wants his soulmate to only get flowers of happiness. He succeeds around half of the time. His soulmate must be a very happy person.

Maybe they're happy being without Wooyoung…

No. He's not going to spend time thinking of such things. There's absolutely no way someone could not love him, especially when they're his soulmate.

Wooyoung spends the next few days listening to San gush about his soulmate, and the devious part of his heart is amused as all hell when Yeosang effectively calls him a twelve year old. He's called Wooyoung that a million times, but then again, they've not been friends for four years for nothing.

It's another day at the flower shop when Yeosang is hanging around, and Wooyoung's surreptitiously trying to glance at the numbers his friend always hides. The phone rings, and Wooyoung sighs, giving up and choosing to look at the numbers on the device instead as Yeosang raises an eyebrow at him.

It ends up being a request for a delivery, and Wooyoung has exactly a moment of trying to convince San to do it before his soulmate walks into the shop, smiling and waving at all of them. Dammit.

The next moment, Wooyoung's being pushed out of the shop with a bouquet in his hand, and their thanks ringing in his ears. Heck, even Yeosang stays inside.

As he gets on his bicycle and goes out on the road, he huffs. Why couldn't San and his soulmate go out to deliver the flowers? They could've had a nice date. But of course, they'd rather hide between the shelves at the shop and kiss, while Yeosang uncomfortably gags in the background.

Oh well, at least Wooyoung's not the one left to gag while he secretly wishes that he could kiss his soulmate behind shelves too. All in due time. He'll make sure to kiss his soulmate when he meets them, regardless of where they are.

The thought makes him giggle, and he allows the wind to cool him down as he cycles. He reaches his destination soon enough, some big hall with an important ceremony. He's about to leave the bouquet at the reception when someone hurries out of the doors and asks him to take them inside instead.

Your tone is clipped, but you look out of breath and frazzled, and Wooyoung can sympathise. Evidently, this event is taking a lot out of you, so he just nods and follows you when you lead him into the hall. You're almost at the main table, Wooyoung at your heels, when the sound of music floats through the air. It's a piano piece, your favourite.

And who'd have thought it's also the song Wooyoung's mother played to him when he was young, telling him it was the song she'd danced to at her wedding. The melody he grew up listening to.

It happens almost instantly. Camellias, pretty pink buds blooming across his hands. There's so many of them, he's surprised. He didn't expect the longing to be that intense. trying to gather them sheepishly and apologise to you for dragging you down under them.

And then he notices it. Half of the flowers aren't even blooming from him. They're blooming on your skin, your face pale as you stare at him. Pale, and then flooding with colour, like a flower blooming in spring.

His eyes widen, jaw dropping and he almost screams. Almost, because people are gathering around them and you look even more stressed than you did before, despite the flowers going crazy around you.

That just won't do.

The flowers are joined by white carnations, adoration, and then more camellias following them, red this time. The song's still playing, the pianist probably having a field day (in more ways than one) as he gets to witness two soulmates meeting.

Wooyoung sets down the bouquet he's still managed to carry till now, on someone's lap and grins at them when they thank him. Then he's stepping forward and taking your hand gently.

"Do you like this song?" he asks softly, not wanting to scare you. You nod, and he notices how you've calmed down a bit, the line in his mind calming down too, soft instead of the frantic buzzing from moments ago.

"Do you like dancing?" he asks again, and he can't help the creasing of his eyes nor the mirth that shines in them as you duck your head, purple flowers blooming around you both once again as your emotions coincide.

Viscarias.

Plucking off a flower from his hand and tucking it behind your ear, he smiles at you. Placing an arm around your waist, he lets go of your hand, bringing his up to caress your cheek.

"Will you dance with me?" he asks, right before he smashes your lips together, uncaring of the crowd around you. Hidden among the flowers blooming uncontrollably, he feels your smile against his lips.

jasjdksf this took too long! still, i hope you guys liked it!! <333 you can find other posts in this series under my #ateez soulmates tag!

#ateez #jung wooyoung #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #jung wooyoung x reader #ateez x reader #ateez jung wooyoung #reader #ateez soulmates #cura writes

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gods-and-pawns · 4 years ago

Note

All flower asks for Cimmerian.

Cimmerian:

O-oh jeez, that’s...a lot of questions, huh? Well, better let’s get to it then.

Alisons: Sexuality?

I’m polysexual.

Amaranth: Pronouns/Gender?

Trans man. He/him pronouns, please.

Amaryllis: Birthday?

December 1st. I’m a winter baby.

Anemone: Favorite flower?

Uhm, sunflowers, probably.

Angelonia: Favorite t.v. show?

If I have to be honest, I don’t really...watch TV all that often. But uh, anything they air on Animal Planet, to be honest. Do you remember that old TV show about the life of meerkats? Fucking loved that shit.

Arum-Lily: What’s the farthest you’d go for a stranger?

That...really depends. I wouldn’t go too far, after all, I don’t know this person, but basic respect and kindness are always a given. I’m not a hero either, I wouldn’t risk my life for them. So, I’d say most of the time, just small favours.

Aster: What’s one of your favorite quotes?

Literally fucking anything that leaves Vincent’s mouth once he gets a little tipsy, this man lacks filter when drunk and it’s fucking great. I know you probably expected some quote with deep meaning, since I have a major in English, but I am very sorry to disappoint.

Aubrieta: Favorite drink?

Pain drink is going to be Whiskey, but anything a little bit fancier then it’s Pina Colada. I like sweet things.

Baby’s Breath: Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?

Yes, absolutely, zero hesitation.

Balsam Fir: Have you ever been in love?

Hm...unfortunately...

Baneberries: Favorite song?

........Two Trucks by Lemon demon. Don’t judge me, it’s a fucking great song.

Basket of Gold: Describe your family.

Hm, well, they were great, really. Very caring and loving...Yeah, this question is making me feel sad.

Beebalm: Do you have a best friend? Who is it?

Uhhh...I’m gonna say it’s either North, Tiff, Han or Bright. I’d say Foster too, but...I don’t know, we kind of had a falling out because of our work. It’s hard to meet up.

Begonia: Favorite color?

...I’ll give you one guess.

Bellflower: Favorite animal?

Toads, love these fat boys.

Bergenia: Are you a morning or night person?

Definitely morning. Not that I like waking up early, but I definitely function better in the mornings.

Black-Eyed Susan: If you could be any animal for a day, what would it be?

A hognose snake, they have very cute noses.

Bloodroots: When you were a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up?

A teacher, of all things. Mostly because I thought teachers got free summer too. Then I went to high school, saw what little shits my peers were, and immediately changed my decision.

Bluemink: What are your thoughts on children?

I love kids! I always wanted to be a father. Unfortunately, with being nearly 40 now and swarmed with work...I don’t think that’ll ever happen.

Blazing Stars: What are you afraid of? Is there a reason why?

Cars, because of trauma that I’d rather not get into. And, uh...I have apeirophobia. It’s...stupid, I know, many people would probably like to live on for forever. But for me, it’s just...it’s horrible. I don’t even know why. I guess it has something to do with existential dread.

Borage: Give a random fact about your childhood.

I had a lot of adoptive siblings and cousins, we were always close, and would always get into trouble together. I was raised on a farm with woods nearby, you can imagine I had a lot of opportunities and places where I could get hurt at, and I did. I was a stupid and reckless kid.

Bugleherb: How would you spend your last day on Earth?

Oh man, that’s a loaded question...Honestly? I’d like to reach out to my family, spend my last day with them.

Buttercup: Relationship Status?

Taken~ By two wonderful, cute men.

Camelia: If you could visit anywhere, where would you want to go?

Oh, there’s a lot of places I’d like to explore, probably too many to list. As long as it’s as far away from civilisation as possible, I’m good.

Candytufts: When do you feel most loved?

I like to be held, I love hugs, they make me feel safe and loved. Preferably under a warm blanket with my partner or partners, late in the evening, the rain falling outside and the room is nearly completely dark as we cuddle...

Canna: Do you have any tattoos?

I used to want to, as a teen, but unfortunately no...I did see some people tattoo over their burn scars, and I’ve been thinking about it, but considering how large my scars are it’d cost a lot, be very time consuming and most likely painful. So I don’t know, but I’m considering it.

Canterbury Bells: Do you have any piercings?

Used to have a few as a teenager, now I only have one in my right ear.

California Poppy: Height?

I’m 5′9′’.

Cardinal Flower: Do you believe in ghosts?

In ghosts? No, not really.

Carnation: What are you currently wearing?

I’ll let you guess.

Catnip: Have you ever slept with a nightlight?

Sure did, I still sometimes do when my nightmares get the best of me.

Chives: Who was the last person you hugged?

Jackie.

Chrysanthemum: Who’s the last person you kissed?

Northy, obviously~

Cock’s Comb: Favorite font?

My heart tells me Comic Sans, but my brain’s telling me to shut the fuck up and pick a normal font.

Columbine: Are you tired?

Always, 24/7.

Common Boneset: What are you looking forward to?

Autumn, we’re close to Summer and god damn it didn’t even start but I’m already over it.

Coneflower: Dream job?

I’m pretty content with my current one, but uh...maybe something less stressful? Probably a book author.

Crane’s-Bill: Introvert or extrovert?

Introvert, definitely.

Crown Imperial: What’s the farthest you would go for someone you care about?

Honestly? I’d probably give my life to them. It mostly depends on the person though, and how much I care about them.

Cyclamen: Did you have a favorite stuffed animal as a child? What was it?

I had a ragdoll elephant named Mr Trunk. Still do, actually, he’s one of the few things I took with me when I started working here. He’s now sitting on my bookcase at my apartment.

Daffodil: What’s your zodiac sign?

Sagittarius.

Dahlia: Have you done anything worth remembering?

I don’t think so, no.

Daisy: What do you feel is your greatest accomplishment?

Well...I guess overcoming my trauma counts as an accomplishment?

Daylily: What would you do if your parents didn’t like your partner(s)?

Well, first of all, my biological parents are dead and my adoptive ones think I’m dead. But, if that weren’t the case, I don’t think Ma and Pa are the kind fo people who’d try to get between me and my partners. I feel like if they were legitimately concerned for me or had deep worries about my partner, they’d talk to me about it. So, nothing too dramatic.

Dendrobium: Who is the last person that you said “I love you” to?

...I’d rather not talk about them.

False Goat’s Beard: What is something you are good at?

Does writing shitty slashfics count?

Foxgloves: What’s something you’re bad at?

Do you want a list or something?

Freesia: What are three good things that have happened in the past month?

Well...I started dating Jackie.

Garden Cosmos: How was your day today?

Tiring, so the usual.

Gardenia: Are you happy with where you’re at in your life?

...It could be worse, honestly.

Gladiolus: What is something you hope to do in the next year or two?

...Uh...if my relationship with Karlos and Jack lasts...well...uhm...God, don’t tell them I said that, alright? But...getting married seems...nice...

Glory-of-the-Snow: What are ten things that make you happy/you’re grateful to have in your life?

My friends. They’re great, I don’t know where I’d be without them. Especially Tiff, they do so much for me...don’t tell them I said that, they don’t need any more of an ego boost.

Heliotropium: What helps you calm down when you feel stressed?

A good book, audiobook or ASMR and a scented candle in an otherwise quiet room usually does the trick.

Hellebore: How do you show affection?

Usually through words, I didn’t get that damn doctorate for nothing.

Hoary Stock: What are you proudest of?

My work, I guess? My writing? Wait, no, I just remembered my longest work of fiction is a crackfic about mythological characters- I take that back.

Hollyhock: Describe your ideal day.

Just having an entire day to myself, no need to do any work, no stress, no deadlines.

Hyacinth: What do you like to do in your free time?

I take care of my pets and plants, read books, write.

Hydrangea: How long have you known your best friend? How did you meet them?

Oh man, it’s been a few years now. Uhm, my longest friend in the Foundation is Foster, we met in high school, but like I said we’ve had a bit of a falling out. Then it’s Tiff, I met them when I first joined the Ethics Committee. I met Karlos and Bright a few years later, and I’ve known Han for the least amount of time, but it’s still been years.

Irises: Who can you talk to about (almost) everything?

Uhm...Hm...Probably Tiff or Karlos. Han too, he’s a good listener.

Laceleaf: How many friends do you have?

A few. On top of the previously mentioned ones I’m also quite close to Clef, Kondraki and Light.

Lantanas: What’s the best compliment you’ve ever received?

Literally, any kind of compliment either of the O5-1′s or O5-11 gave me. Do you have any god damn idea how fucking hard it is to impress the Ones? And Ten...well, he’s just really nice and I appreciate him.

Larkspur: What do you think of yourself?

Anyway, next question!

Lavender: What’s your favorite thing about yourself?

I have great fucking puns and if anybody says otherwise, they’re fucking wrong.

Leather Flower: What’s your least favorite thing about yourself?

Do you want a list?

Lilac: What’s something you liked to do as a child?

Exploring, I guess it never really changed, I like spending time in nature, I just never have the time to.

Lily: Who was your best friend when you were a kid?

........Probably one of my siblings.

Lily of the Incas: What is something you still feel guilty for?

A lot, but let’s not talk about that.

Lily of the Nile: What is something you feel guilty for that you shouldn’t feel guilty about?

Jesus Christ, what’s with these questions?

Lupine: What does your name mean? Why is that your name?

I had to look it up, and apparently, Jeremiah means “Yahweh will exalt”. I had no idea my name actually had a religious meaning. When I was born I was named after my grandma, and when I was changing my name I decided to kind of keep with the theme and named myself after my grandpa. He doesn’t know, actually, I never came out to them, but I like to think he’d be happy that I named myself after him

Marigold: Where did you grow up? Tell us about it.

Like I said before, in a small rural town on a small farm. Not much to talk about, really, I was a typical kid that grew up on the farm. Always got in trouble and always hurt myself doing stupid shit.

Morning Glory: What was your bedroom like growing up?

I was quite a tomboy and I loved cows, so just imagine a room with walls painted to resemble a pasture with cows on it and cow-themed furniture. Handmade too, by my grandpa and Pa, of course.

Mugworts: What was it like for you as a teenager? Did you enjoy your teenage years?

I uh...I’d rather not talk about it.

Norwegian Angelica: Tell us about your mom.

Ma was a great woman, she always cared for me and my siblings, she treated me like her own kid straight away. Didn’t even batted an eye. Never made me feel weird or wrong for liking “boy things” like other adults outside of our family. She was quite fiercely protective of me too, quite a mama bear, I must say. A strong woman, could probably suplex a bear.

Onions: Tell about your dad.

Pa was...well, Pa was just wonderful. He didn’t even hesitate for a second to take me in when his sis and my biological mother died. He was the first person I saw when I woke up at the hospital. He always made sure I was happy and taken care of. He taught me how to hunt and fight and play soccer and football. He was always very loudly supportive of me. I cannot express enough just how much I’m grateful to him and Ma.

Orchid: Tell about your grandparents.

They were very kind, your traditional old couple. I loved granny, but I was always closer to my grandpa. He taught me how to fish, I could always confide in him. He’s a great guy. Granny was wonderful too, I remember I always helped her out in her garden, she’d always scare me with potato bastards- I mean potato beetles, sorry, old habit- I fucking hate these motherfuckers. I love all animals, except for these ones. Potato bastards can suck a dick.

Pansy: What was your most memorable birthday? What made it be so memorable?

[Heavy sigh] My 4th birthday, my older brothers decided it’d be a fun idea to pick every potato beetle they could find from granny’s garden and throw them at me as a “birthday present”...........You know, I think I just realised why I hate these beetles so much.

Peony: What was your first job?

My first official job was in the Foundation, they hired me right when I finished college to help contain one anomaly, then I just stuck around and worked in Human Resources. I don’t think working small chores in our neighbours’ farms for some pocket change counted as a job.

Petunia: If you’re in a relationship, how did you meet your partner(s)? If you’re not in a relationship, how did you meet your crush/how do you hope to meet your future partner(s), if you want any?

I met North when he started working as a junior researcher in the same Site as me. Bright, I knew for longer for uh...obvious reasons, but I first met him in person during a disciplinary meeting. I also worked as an Ethics Committee Liaison in Site-19. You can imagine our relationship wasn’t the best at first.

Pincushion: How do you deal with pain?

Die.

Pink: Where is home?

Well, that sure is a deep fucking question. At this point...I don’t know, honestly.

Plantain Lilies: If you could go back in time, what is one thing you would stop/change?

...It’s...let’s not talk about that.

Prairie Gentian: Who is someone you look up to? Describe them.

No way in hell I’m telling you, he could read this blog.

Primrose: Describe your ideal life.

Living in a cottage in the forest or mountains as a fairly famous writer, with a spouse and a few kids.

Rhodendron: What is something you used to believe in as a child?

Soulmates. Then I grew a brain.

Ricinus: Who’s the most important in your life?

...So anyways.

Rose: What’s your favorite sound?

Uh, so you know how I listen to ASMR? Probably tapping.

Rosemallows: What’s your favorite memory?

Any kind of holiday with my family, we’d always get together and celebrate.

Sage: What’s your least favorite memory?

Let’s not talk about that!

Snapdragon: At this moment, what do you want?

...Hm...Well, I am kind of hungry, I guess after this I should go eat something.

St. John’s Wort: Is it easy or difficult for you to express how you feel about things?

I think I’m kind of...intermediate on that scale. Generally, it’s easy for me unless it’s something very personal.

Sunflower: What is something you don’t want to imagine life without?

...yeah, another question I’m skipping.

Sweet Pea: How much sleep did you get last night?

Not a lot, I’m quite tired today.

Tickseed: What’s your main reason to get up every morning?

Work, I guess? Mostly just routine.

Touch-Me-Not: How do you feel about your current job?

Fucking stressful and exhausting, but it could be worse. That’s talking about my chairman position. But my work on Project X? I like it, one of the more pleasant jobs I had at the Foundation.

Transvaal Daisy: What’s your favorite item of clothing?

...Yeah, just take a guess.

Tropical White Morning Glory: Describe your aesthetic.

Cozy, dark and gold.

Tulip: What would be the best present to get you?

...That’s a bit personal, actually.

Vervain: What’s stressing you out most right now?

The sheer amount of these questions, Jesus fucking Christ.

Wisteria: How many books have you read in the past few months? What were they called?

Unfortunately, I don’t have time for books lately, I did listen to a few audiobooks though. Also, I’m planning to revisit the Warrior Cats books because nostalgia and I need to know what the fuck is happening with these cats lately.

Wolf’s Bane: Where do you want to be in life this time next year?

Hopefully not dead.

Zinnia: Give a random fact about yourself.

Uhhh...hm...I’m petty, but you probably knew that already.

#asks #cimm.txt #ask game #ooc: ill get to the rest later this shit drained me horribly and i need a break

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concealeddarkness13 · 5 years ago

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WHG Day 5: Nyr

Tagging: @ratracechronicler, @clocksandchaos, @maple-writes, @rhikasa (also thanks for Guin!), @onceuponanaromantic, @nightskywriter, @pied-piper-of-hamlet, and @spacebrick3 for Snow!

I tensed when I heard movement through the trees. It wasn’t even sunrise yet, and Yana was sleeping.

But I didn’t have to worry. It was just Guin. She smiled at me and sat down next to me. “I decided to check on all of the groups to make sure they were doing okay, and I thought it would be best to check while most people are still asleep.”

I nodded. “Well, thanks. We’re doing fine.”

“And why are you awake? Have you been keeping watch all night?”

I nodded. “Why not? I’m used to being awake a lot longer anyway.”

She frowned. “But you need your sleep too. Why are you pushing yourself so hard?”

I shook my head. “I’m not. I just want to protect anyone I can.” I clenched my fists. “And there are so many that I wasn’t able to protect. It’s not fair.”

She laughed. “Well, you should get some sleep. I’ll keep watch. Surely, the other groups can wait for a couple hours.”

“No. That’s not fair. You should go check to see if they need any help.”

“But I think this group needs my help the most. I heard some whispers that you were hurt yesterday. Do you need help?”

I instinctively turned away from her. It was just a knife slash to my side. I was handling it well. There were just some tributes who didn’t want anything to do with escaping the arena. “I also heard that your magic drains you. I’m not going to let you tire yourself for me.”

She shook her head with a smile and pulled out some clean bandages from her pack. “How did I know you were going to say that? Let me clean your wound and bandage it again, please.”

I tensed as she walked toward me, but I held up my shirt enough to reveal the makeshift bandage I had put over it. She scoffed and got to work. I stayed tense, even though it was such a kind touch. My parents hadn’t been this concerned about me in years. I wasn’t used to it.

She glanced up at me as she kept cleaning my wound. “I’ll be getting rid of my tracker today. That will leave you and now two others.” She glanced over at Yana, who was still sleeping even as the sun rose. “When are you planning on taking it out?”

I looked away from her with a frown. “I don’t know if I will,” I mumbled.

She frowned. “What? Why not?”

I swallowed hard, but I trusted her enough to explain. “I was sent to Panem as a representative of my people. If I show that I willingly joined a rebellion, the Capitol will retaliate on my people. They’ll all die if I make one wrong step. It was a risk joining this group, but I can at least give an excuse that you made me join. I won’t be able to run away from Panem like you will after this. I have to stay and do what they want so they will leave my people alone.”

I squeezed my eyes shut. She was going to say how stupid of an excuse that was. There was a pause before she responded. “I understand. And it’s a noble cause. Protect everyone you can, dear. That means yourself too.” I looked at her with wide eyes, and she smiled at me. “Done. I’ll be heading out. I think I’ve done everything I can here.”

I didn’t really understand what she meant. How could I protect myself when doing that would hurt my people? At least she had given me something to think about.

I messed with my pair of knives as I waited for everyone to escape safely. Tara, The Chronicler, and Adri called everyone together so that we could escape. I watched the group as people started to leave. I would wait and make sure that everyone was safe as they left. Yana and Indigo decided to stay as well, but they had gone off somewhere.

There was a rustle of leaves, and I tensed as someone walked out of the foliage. Everyone else was farther up, not in eyesight, but still.

It was Snow. She had a haunted look in her eyes. I frowned. I had heard Begonia talk about the memorial he found today. I had to try to recruit her. I had to do anything I could. For Begonia’s sake. He cared about her.

I cleared my throat, forcing myself to relax and look unthreatening. “Snow? Would you like to join us? We’re escaping from the arena right now. You’d be able to escape safely without the Capitol seeing you. We hacked into the cameras around the arena. You’d be safe.” I tried to sound as nice as I could. Come on. She had to join. Begonia would be so happy.

She shook her head. “No.”

I frowned. What did she want? “I—what? What do you mean, no?”

That haunted look hadn’t left her eyes. “No. I don’t care. I don’t want any part of it. Fight your own fight somewhere else.”

I stared straight in her eyes. “You’ll die if you stay.” Snow nodded. I hissed out a breath. “Listen, I know you have something to go back to, because we all do. You really want to throw that away—throw them away?”

“Snow was the doctor, and she’s dead. Zoe Hopewell is the killer, and she didn’t even last a day. What is there left now? What will I be when I go back to District 8?”

Crap. This wasn’t the time for an existential crisis. “Sounds to me like you’ve got something of a blank slate, then.”

She tried to square her shoulders, but they just fell back down. “Listen, I killed someone. I threw away everything I was and then, just to be sure, I threw that person away too. That can’t be meaningless! If I survive—if I join this wild, reckless plan, then what was it all for?”

Well, that made up my mind. She had to see that Begonia was alive. I sighed and crossed my arms. “…alright then.” I allowed a smirk to tug at my lips. “Let’s pretend this is the real Games. The funny thing about that is, you don’t particularly get a choice in what happens to you.” I slipped a knife into my hand and aimed it at her. All my training to fight against Panem had to amount to something. “If it helps, I can say I’m sorry about this.”

The first spark of life lit up her eyes as fear flooded them. So, she didn’t really want to die. “Wait—”

I threw the knife, and the hilt slammed into her forehead. I grinned. Perfect. Begonia shouldn’t be too far away yet.

I grabbed her shoulders and dragged her into the hole Tara had made. I left her there as I asked someone to at least disable her tracker without cutting it out and then searched for Begonia.

#writeblr hunger games #WHG #the rest of the posts I'll have for these characters will be some post-Games stuff #Nyr's will be the longest #I don't know when I'll get around to writing them and posting them though

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shimmershae · 5 years ago

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Waltzing might have stalled (for the moment), but all the words and worlds crowding my brain haven't. Wanna have a look-see at some of the other little Caryl drabble-verses I'm considering turning into their own full-fledged stories (eventually)? Here you go. Tell me which one(s) you'd most like to revisit.

First up, the AU Caryl married fic where they raise Sophia. And a puppy.

“Please, Mom.”

“Sophia,” Carol warned.

“But it was an accident, Mom. He didn’t mean to.”

“Tell that to my begonias.”

She heard a snort behind her, and she whirled around to glare at her husband. He was just as complicit in the laundry list of crimes as her twelve-year-old. He didn’t know it yet, but he would pay. “Daryl, don’t even.”

“Didn’t say nothing.” He grinned, edged a little closer, penned her in against the counter. “You know you want it, Sweetheart.”

“Mommy,” Sophia pleaded.

Three pairs of puppy dog eyes stared at her until she folded, completely melted.

“Okay.”

***

“Daryl, have you seen my favorite…”

Daryl tried to hide the chewed-up shoe behind his back, but it was too late. She’d already spotted it.

“Where is he?”

“Sweetheart, just remember. Harvey’s still a puppy. He don’t know no better.”

“Harvey Dent Dixon!”

Sophia appeared behind her mother, their happily slobbering new addition cradled in her arms.

Daryl tried to warn her away with his eyebrows, but he didn’t marry no fool. His wife whirled around and angrily wagged her finger beneath the puppy’s nose.

“How do I even put up with you?”

“Mom!”

“We should have named you Wreck-It-Ralph.”

***

“Harvey, you know you’re not supposed to be in the bed.”

The puppy responded to her half-hearted scolding with a sweetly pathetic whine and a broad swipe of his pink tongue across her chin, burrowing beneath the blankets with her and flopping down in an exhausted heap.

Caught between a giggle and a sigh, Carol merely smiled and opened her eyes, thankful her husband and daughter were at soccer practice and not bearing witness to her utter failure disciplining the little obedience school dropout. “Oh, you.”

Harvey’s tail thumped lazily.

“I have a secret. Two, actually. Promise not to tell?”

***

“You can’t just hug me and think everything’s okay.”

Daryl peeled back, let his arms fall to his sides. His blue eyes darted over to Sophia, but the preteen was looking elsewhere, anywhere but at them.

Harvey was flopped down between her daughter’s bare feet, his tongue lolling, mouth panting as he tilted his head this way and that, happily, tiredly unrepentant for the latest episode of chaos.

“Help me out here, Soph.”

“It looked dead.”

“Weren’t, though. How’s I s’posed to know Mama and Pa would go all Commando on us? Fucking squirrels.”

Carol snorted out a laugh. “Daryl!”

***

“No more dogs. How hard is it to understand?”

“Really?” Carol sighed as her husband mimicked her oft-repeated words. Twisting in her seat to face him, at least as much as the seatbelt cinched snug across her hips would allow, she challenged, “C’mon. You can do better than that, Pookie.”

Behind them, Sophia giggled.

Catching his stepdaughter’s eyes in the reflection of the rear-view mirror, Daryl narrowed his eyes. “Traitor.”

Sophia grinned, stretching out her legs and wiggling her socked feet between them, her smelly socked feet.

“Sophia! Shoes back on!”

“What your mom said.”

“Technically, it’s a kitten.”

“Pfft.”

***

“You fell asleep in the tub?”

“Third time this week,” Sophia piped up oh-so-helpfully, fingers tightening in Harvey’s collar when he made another playful lunge at their newest family member.

Coined Poison Ivy by her feline-averse husband, the kitten squeaked. Blue eyes huge, just as wet and bedraggled as Carol thanks to this latest disastrous romp, it shivered and snuggled itself into the open vee of her robe.

“Third time, huh?”

“Not now,” Carol frowned. “Sophia. Take Harvey outside. Let him chase some real squirrels.”

“But Mom…”

“Please?”

Once alone, Daryl reached for her. “Something you wanna tell me, Sweetheart?”

***

Eyeing her husband’s pale face warily, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth, Carol murmured, “Did you hear…”

Daryl staggered a little on his feet, hands fumbling to find the edge of their mattress, just flopped there like a fish out of water. Still looking a little stunned, he nodded at her when she made her careful approach.

Smiling hopefully when his hands found her waist, Carol tenderly brushed his hair back from his forehead. “Use your words.”

“A baby? You’re…”

“I’m...”

“Holy shit, Sweetheart. We’re living in a sitcom.”

“Daryl!”

Frightened from her doze, Ivy mewed plaintively.

“Cat agrees.”

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

Second, the AU where Carol and Daryl are partners. Purely platonic. Or are they?

“Bed, Soph. Now.”

“Fine.”

“Love you.”

“Sure.”

“Teenagers,” Carol muttered, falling back against her bedroom door. Kicking her heels off, she bent to peel the stockings from her legs, made short work of her blouse and skirt. She was down to her underwear and thigh holster before she realized she wasn’t alone.

“Keep going, Partner.”

“Fuck! Dixon! Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

“Exterminators, remember?”

She took off her gun, turned on the bedside lamp, rolled her eyes at the erection tenting the sheet pooled around his waist. “Seriously?”

He shrugged, grinned. “Happens.”

“Stay on your side."

***

Thing about Mason was, she was fun to fuck with. And Daryl? He loved fucking around. Both in the bedroom, and…well. Barring the field, everywhere really.

She’d left her bra on. Sexy little number. Just a lacy shadow against her pale, freckled skin.

His hands, body burned with the need to touch that skin, touch her. He didn’t. Didn’t trust himself not to take them both down a long, dark road that would consume them both. Didn’t want to put their partnership on the line that way, but fuck. She was right there. He groaned.

“My name isn’t Leslie…who’s Leslie?”

***

Carol rolled over, glared at her uninvited bedmate. “Answer me, Dixon. Who the fuck is Leslie?”

His smirk was slow. Sly. “Why? You jealous?” He deftly avoided her attempt to knee him in the nuts, pulled her leg over his hip instead.

“Dixon.”

Heeding her warning, he let her go. “Relax. Been watching tv with your ball-busting daughter.”

Carol softened. “She loves that show.”

“Yeah, well. Didn’t do much for me.”

“Your taste is questionable at best.”

“Mine? What about yours?”

“Excuse me?”

“Your UPS man wear his little shorts on your date?”

“Dixon.”

“…”

“Scoot over a little bit, please.”

***

“Quit moving. I’m trying to sleep. Wait. Are you…what?!”

Daryl’s hand stilled under the sheet just long enough for him to hiss, groan. “Jesus, Mason. Think you can stop screaming in my ear?” That was absofuckinglutely the wrong thing to say because those blue eyes flashed and caught fire, and shit. Shit. His hand quickly went from tugging his dick to shielding it as his partner’s small hands balled into fists, and she growled. She fucking growled. He was equal parts terrified and turned on. Alright. More like 60% terrified, 40%...

“My kid’s…”

“14 going on 40 and not here.”

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

Third, teen besties Caryl AU where they both grew up with absent parents and found each other early on.

“We really doing this silent treatment shit? S’not my fault they only had one room.”

Carol heaved her duffel on top of the bed with a roll of her eyes, started digging through it like it held the secrets of the fuckin’ universe.

He wished. Some last hurrah this was turning out to be. Stuck in Bumfuck, Nowheresville in this Bates Motel wannabe. With a best friend who’d sooner rip his nuts off than utter a civil word. “Got a beer in there?”

“…”

“Shit. Sorry. Jesus.”

“…”

“Is that…That’s my shirt. So is that…wait.”

“…”

“S’Walsh, right? You crushin’ on me, Sweetheart?"

***

He was almost asleep, first decent forty winks he’d managed since they’d started this trash-fire trip when he heard it: a blood-curdling scream worthy of this place’s whole Psycho ambience.

“Daryl!”

The bathroom door bounced against the wall when he burst through it, practically broke his nose on the rebound, but that was all beside the point. Two steps inside, and Carol was in his arms. Shaking, still squealing, naked as the day she was fuckin’ born. “Shh. Got ya. S’alright. Somebody…shit.”

“Kill it.”

“A roach? Seriously? Thought you were bein’ murdered.”

“It’s prehistoric…what?”

“You’re so clingy. I love it.”

***

They checked out, ended up at some Waffle House knock-off a half mile down the road that smelled like grease and maple syrup.

Daryl had already demolished his burger, was on the second refill of his shake before he addressed the huge fuckin’ pink elephant in the room. “So, I saw you naked. No big deal.”

Carol tugged at one of her wet curls. “Great. What every girl wants to hear.”

“Yeah, well. Waxing poetic or some shit ‘bout your world class tits would only make things weird.”

“World class, huh?”

“Fuck.”

“Sharing is caring. Now, give me your fries.”

***

“Oh. Did I scare you, big boy?”

His fingers still fumbling with his half-zipped fly, Daryl scowled. “Fuck off.”

Carol sighed, gathered her loose curls in one hand, lifted them from her sweaty neck. “Would you relax? I didn’t even see anything.”

Daryl remained skeptical. “Sure?”

This time, Carol rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’m sure. Want me to tear the hinges off a bathroom door next time?”

Daryl’s ears burned with the pointed reminder, and he joined her on the truck’s old tailgate, cast his eyes to the evening sky, their surroundings. It was too…

“Children of the Corn.”

“Stop.”

***

Fourth, Sophia finds herself in a spot of trouble.

“Quit stalling. Where’s your father?”

Beside her, Sophia moaned into the cover of her hands. “Mom, please. It’s not Cade’s fault.”

Feeling her blood pressure tick up another notch, Carol wryly reminded her teen daughter, “Of course not. I paid attention in health class. It takes two.”

“Which makes it both their faults.”

The screen door slammed shut behind the man as he belatedly joined the fray, and Carol did a double take. “Daryl?”

The boy’s shoulders lifted defiantly, but his blue eyes still looked just as worried.

“You’re Cade’s father?”

“Uncle,” Daryl clarified.

“This keeps getting better and better.”

***

Finally, because this post is too long and I'm going to have to do another one, AU. Carol and Daryl are two neighbors not-so-secretly pining over each other, and the waiting game for one of them to make a move is killing Carol’s visiting friend Aaron. He decides to help things along.

“Hold my hand so he gets jealous.”

“What? But you’re, well.” Her cheeks almost as red in that moment as her hair, Carol couldn’t even sputter out the word.

Aaron, as always, was quick to bail her out of the awkward moment. Hiding his smirk in her mad cap of curls, he took her hand in his own and pulled her against his side, ushering her quickly down the hallway to her apartment door while her neighbor—her hot, adorably awkward, single, and undeniably interested neighbor—watched. “What Dixon doesn’t know…”

“But…”

“No buts. Just play along.”

“He watching?”

“Definitely.”

#The Walking Dead #Caryl fanfiction #Carol x Daryl #Carol Peletier #Daryl Dixon #stuff that I write #so...#which drabble (series) would you like to see turned into a full-fledged fic?#if inspiration strikes?#let me know #I'm going to leave this right here #I'll probably post a second part later #things that make me smile and cry #for reasons

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assiraamethyst · 6 years ago

Text

The picnic

This is my gift for @jekkiefan for The Glass Scientists Secret Santa.

The characters' speeches will be identified with texts that are the same as those used below in their names.

Jekyll (Italic)

Lanyon (Bold + Italic)

Jasper (Bold)

Rachel (strikethrough)

The Picnic

Lanyon and Jekyll were putting cookies, drinks and snacks in a basket when Jasper entered the kitchen, he had come in to look for something to satisfy his hunger, but when he saw them he forgot about it for a moment and asked what they were doing and for what they were going to use the basket.

"We're going to have a picnic, and we were packing the basket we're going to take on our ride."

"So, since we're ready, we're going, see you later kid.”

"Okay, have a good day and a good ride." Jasper said, waving as they left.

After the farewell Lanyon and Jekyll went to the library of the society to choose a book to read together while they were at the picnic.

They ended choosing a book of fiction that sounded very interesting, and put it in the basket together with the food; and finally they began to go to their destination while having a pleasant conversation.

"So where are we going? You asked if I wanted to go on a picnic with you but you didn't say where we are going to do it."

"It's a surprise, but I think you'll love the place, it's full of flowers and trees, quiet, calm, colorful and the prettiest place in the Earth when it's dark."

"If you say so, but is it far from here?"

"You are impatient as always, it takes a 15 minutes walk, but when I'm talking with you the time passes faster and everything is better."

Lanyon blushed but didn't say anything about it, they kept walking and talking about many different things, since science topics to dumb things they had done when they were younger, both of them with a smile in their faces.

“We arrived; it is a very beautiful place, isn’t it?”

Lanyon was so amazed with how beautiful the place was that he forgot to answer Henry, making the other worried.

"Robert, are you alright?"

“Er, yes? Sorry, I shut down for a moment, what were you saying?”

Instead of answering Jekyll smiled genuinely to him, took his hand and guided him to under a sakura tree, putting the blanket down; Lanyon did the same but with the basket, and after that both of them sat down on it.

The place had a fresh and pure air, and was just like Jekyll had described and even more than that, it was a place that only them knew, a place where they could be together without anyone bothering them each five minutes, it was the perfect place for them.

But it was easy to notice that Henry was still a bit worried about leaving the lodgers alone, even though Jasper, Rachel, Miss Ito and some of the others had common sense, they couldn't take care of all the reckless lodgers while they were on their picnic.

So Lanyon had an idea of how distract Henry from his work.

“Henry, you seem to be stressed lately, do you want to talk about it? Or maybe a hug? I’ll be always here to help you."

Henry smiled sadly, closing his eyes and letting out a sigh. Then he opened his eyes again and looked at Lanyon a bit embarrassed.

"We can talk about problems any other day, but I accept the hug."

Lanyon smiled and opened his arms, and Jekyll put his head on Lanyon's chest, right in the place where he can hear his heartbeat.

Smiling sweetly he put one of his arms on Henry's back, pulling him closer to him, while his other arm caressed the beautiful hair of the alchemist in his arms.

Both of them felt lighter and happier in each other’s arms, they felt safe together and they felt at peace, if they were close to one another could do anything.

After some minutes of cuddling Lanyon broke the silence.

"So..."

He kissed Jekyll's forehead sweetly before continuing.

"What should we do next?"

"There's a path in here that isn't very extensive that leads into the flower field."

"That sounds lovely."

He kissed his forehead once more before he released the other from his embrace so they could get up.

Henry got to his feet first and stretched out his hand to help Robert get up; he accepted the hand and got up a few seconds later.

Both of them stretched out before heading to the path, hand in hand between the multi colored field filled with sunflowers, dandelions, begonias, dahlias and tulips, and all of them were beautiful in their own way.

One flower in special got Henry's attention, it was a red tulip, since he was an alchemist he learned in his studies the language of the flowers, he even talked with Lanyon about this sometimes, he wondered if Lanyon remembered the meaning of any of them.

He got the flower and put it in Robert's hair, Robert smiled and asked:

"Which flower did you put in my hair?"

Henry returned the smile, and closed his eyes briefly like if deeply in thought for a moment.

"I put a red tulip, and this flower means..."

"Declaration of love, eternal love, irreversible love, perfect love."

Jekyll was surprised, not only by Lanyon remembering the meaning of the flower, but also by the fact that he remembered the meaning of the color of the flower.

Robert laughed silently when he saw the dumbfounded look on Henry's face.

"Did you think I'd forget the meaning of all of them?"

Knowing very well that the other was too surprised to respond he smiled wider and took a flower that he had hidden behind his back when Henry was distracted.

"It's a red dahlia; do you remember what it means?"

He asked putting the flower into Henry's hair.

“A red dahlia means insinuating passion, transmission of good and intense energies; and fiery eyes."

Jekyll smiled at the flirty choice of the flower.

"Someone is being cheesy today."

Robert smirked at him.

"I am Indeed, but so are you, then it's a draw."

They both laughed at their cheesiness.

"Independent of their meaning of the flowers they are beautiful to see."

"This flower is pretty, but you're more charming and graceful than any flower, human or any being in the world."

Both of them blushed, Jekyll being the one with the reddest face out of the two.

They had been together for a long time, but their relationship was still something new for both of them, making them unsure about how to act, they were still insecure about how far they could go with affection, teasing and flirting.

They stood in silence for a moment before Henry changed the subject.

"We should go back; we can go eat the snacks that we brought with us.”

''Yes, off course, it would be a waste having brought so much food and don't eat it."

So they made the way back, but this time silently since they were still feeling awkward and couldn't think about anything to release the tension.

They were still holding hands, but now the grip was stronger , as if the grip was lighter, the other would want take their hand away and never want to hold hands again; the grip was a desperate and yet subtle way of showing how much they truly needed each other.

When they arrived back at the tree the two sat down, but this time instead of sitting side by side they sat facing each other.

They stared to eat, Henry was eating a sandwich and Robert was eating cookies.

Lanyon was trying to think of anything to say, since he knew that even small talk would help now.

"Do you think that there's any chance of raining today?"

"I don't think so; maybe it'll rain in tomorrow."

Now that the silence was broken Lanyon took a deep breath before he started talking again.

"Henry, I'm so sorry for making the things awkward just now."

"No, it's alright, it's just ... that I was caught off guard since I'm not used to this kind of compliment, it wasn't your fault, really, it's just that it's something new for me."

They softly sighed, it would take a while until them being totally used to their relationship, but both were willing to try and make it work.

Lanyon looked up, noticing the sky getting darker, and got to his feet.

"We should go back to the society building, since it’s getting late."

"No, please, let's just stay a bit more, I don't think one more hour or two in here would make much harm for them."

"Well, you're right, the lodgers probably wouldn't mind if we took our time."

Lanyon sit again, but this time he sat by Henry's side.

"I want to stay here a little more to see the stars and fireflies, here is even more beautiful at night."

Since they were staying for a bit longer they leaned their backs against the tree to prevent back pain.

As the sun goes down the scenery begins to change together with the sky, that now was filled with beautiful shades pink, orange and lilac.

After a few minutes the sky was a dark and the stars started appearing while a full moon was going up in the sky, that kind of natural light in the night makes the appearance of the place change slight, making everything even prettier.

They lied down to see the sky better.

"This place sure has a good view to the sky; I've never seen so many stars at once.”

"Here is the best place for stargazing in the city."

"I'm happy that you shared this place with me."

They turned their heads, facing each other, interlacing their fingers together and leaning their foreheads against one another, feeling peaceful.

"I wish we would do things like this more often, it's a pity that none of us have much free time nowadays."

"Yes, but I want you to know that I'll always have time for you."

Robert raised their interlaced hands and kissed the back of Henry’s hand, making the other go red, they started to look at the stars again, never letting go of the other's hand and having a good conversation.

*~Meanwhile in the Society~*

"It's getting really late and Dr.Jekyll still hasn’t returned from his picnic, do you think something happened to him?"

"Did he go alone or was he accompanied?"

"Dr.Lanyon was going with him."

"Why am I not surprised? Of course it has something to do with Robert; Henry wouldn't be out late this in the night if he was with another person."

"Do you think they are alright?"

"I'm sure, but we'll need to find them or they won't go home today."

"Alright, I’ll tell Miss Ito that we're going to leave so she will not be worried."

"While you do that I'll take my purse and get some things."

They part ways and a few minutes later they meet again to start the search for the two lovebirds.

"So...where do we start looking?"

"I don't know, you were the last one to see them."

"But they didn't tell where they were going to do the picnic. What do we do now?"

"Well...since you are in your werewolf form right now, maybe you could track them down by the smell of one of them!"

"I can try, but I don't know if I can do this."

"I'm sure you can."

"But to do this I need something that belongs to one of them so I can catch the smell."'

"Are Dr. Jekyll's gloves enough for this?"

"Yes, but why were you with his gloves on your purse?"

"We went to get some things on the market and he asked me to put his gloves in my bag, but we forgot they were with me."

"Alright then, let's see if we can find them."

"Lead the way."

So trusting on Jasper's sense of smell they wandered for some time until they found the two men under a tree.

"Finally we found you two!"

Both Henry and Robert got startled with the sudden noise of Rachel’s voice, making both of them jump to their feet.

"Rachel! Don't do that! You scared us to death!"

"Well, it wouldn't have happened if you hadn't worried s by being out at this hour of the night."

"Wait, what time is it?"

"I don't know exactly what time is, but I know is past 11:00 pm!"

"We ended up staying more time than we thought."

"I bet it's your fault that Henry is out late! He wouldn't have made us so worried if it wasn't for you."

"Rachel, actually I'm the one who asked to stay here a bit more, it's just I wanted to see the stars before going back. I'm sorry that I worried you."

Rachel made an angry face at Jekyll, but she let out a sigh and uncrossed her arms.

"You're lucky that I can't stay mad at you for much time, let's go home already."

"Just a question before we go, how did you found us?"

"Jasper tracked you two by your smell."

"Well, thank you two for coming at us, we got so distracted by the beauty at this place that we didn't notice the time pass."

"I bet it wasn't the only reason why you two are late."

They both blushed; Henry regretted telling her that they were dating.

"Rachel, look around you."

Jasper and Rachel looked around them, they were so focused looking for them that they didn't noticed their surroundings.

"Here really is beautiful, it's no wonder that you got distracted."

"It's been so long since I saw fireflies, they're so cute!"

"Alright, we already got all our things, we're ready to leave."

They returned to the society, surprisingly nothing wrong had while Henry was out. No explosions, nothing broken, everything was like when he left.

Seeing that everything was fine made Jekyll happy.

Jasper and Rachel said their goodnights, Lanyon was going to call a carriage to go home but Jekyll stopped him.

"Where are you going?"

Lanyon raised a brow in confusion.

"I'm going to see if I can find a carriage to go home."

"I think it's better if you stay here, I doubt there'll be a carriage out at this hour, and I don't want to risk you walking alone at this hour of the night."

Robert looked at Henry and asks himself if this is a good idea.

He lets out a deep breath before agreeing.

"I think you're right, but where do I sleep? You said all the rooms are being used by the lodgers"

Henry smiled awkwardly before answering.

"You can stay in my room, there’s enough space in my bed for two people, and maybe we could cuddle? That is, if you don't mind."

Lanyon smiled, Henry was slyer and bolder than he looked.

"I would love to, so, please lead the way."

They linked arms and made the way to Jekyll's room quietly to not wake up the lodgers.

Before falling asleep they talked a bit more and shared more kisses, then wrapped their arms around each other finally falling asleep after a good night kiss.

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Hi, I’m sorry for taking so long to finish the story, it’s just that my brain wasn’t helping me to express what I wanted to say.

This fanfic will also be available soon on wattpad, and when I finish the editing in wattpad there I will post the link in the blog.

Thank you for being patient and i hope you like your present!

#jekyll x lanyon #fanfic #tgs #henry jekyll #robert lanyon #jasper kaylock #rachel pidgley #tgsss #jekyon #lankyll

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arcade9witch · 8 years ago

Text

Iris and Lillium’s designs for mine and @i-read-good-books Android AU collab!! (VERY NieR:Automata inspired by my (very annoying) requests. hahaha )

Text by her:

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“from dusk til dawn

getting to know each other”

CLICK READ MORE FOR THE PV

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“There was no problem with them,” Iris bites, slightly harsher than he means to. Humans always like to assume that technology malfunctioned, jump to that conclusion without ever thinking of anything else. Love blaming others for impossible to predict mistakes, to wash their hands clean of any responsability.

Typical.

“They’ve probably just moved on already.” Iris glances into the distance, zooming in until his vision can’t reach any further. “Too late.”

“Awww,” Lillium pouts. He leans against one of the abandoned buildings, caked with dust, the metal on the walls rusting slowly but surely.

Iris can’t help but imagine his own body rusting like that, colour leaching from his synthetic skin and fading to a repulsive reddish brown. Can’t help but fear it. It’s something that sends a shiver of electricity down his metallic spine, that reminds of how painfully different he is from the human investigators.

.....................................

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“Iris met Lillium only a few hours before their mission. Apparently, Lillium’s regular android partner, Heather, had a malfunction and was resting in the repair room. He got called in as a replacement, since he didn’t really have any other duties.

“Hey.” Lillium smiled at him, tipped an imaginary hat in greeting. “You’re Iris, right? I’m Lillium.”

It isn’t exactly uncommon for humans to have android names - flowers, perfumes, animals - but it still shocked him slightly. And well; Lillium is beautiful. His hair is pink and bright, blond roots barely showing in some select places. His eyes shine, even when there is no light, a spark that makes Iris catch his breath, even though he doesn’t actually need to breathe. Lillium is tall, gorgeous, and flirty. If Iris hadn’t been told he was a human, he would have immediately taken him for a companion bot.

“Yeah.” Iris didn’t meet his gaze. “I’m your partner for this trip.”

...................................

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“I got lucky, apparently.” Lillium winked at him. “It’s pretty shit that Heather’s in recovery, but I bet Begonia is nursing her back to health right now.”

Iris recoiled at that. “Begonia?”

Lillium waggled his eyebrows. “If you ask me, those two are a bit too close for operator and android investigator.” His suggestive smirk softened, turned into something resembling a supportive smike. “They’re cute together. Heather’s good for her.”

Iris just stood there, frozen, feeling so lost that he might as well have broken his internal compass. If he was human, he would have been sweating with nervousness.

He tried to imagine a world in which a human would say an android was ‘good’ for a human. Tried to imagine a world in which they could date and it would be considered ‘cute’. Tried to imagine what the fuck Lillium White was on about. He was terrifying, because he was different.

This is similar to that first meeting. Similar to the sense of losing his footing, of not knowing where to stand. Iris doesn’t know if he can trust Lillium, if he can truly believe what he’s saying.

But he sounds so genuine. He’s mysterious, alright, and he’s a human investigator. They all come with their share of secrets, as part of the job description. And yet, Lillium manages to make himself seem incredibly kind, so willing to listen, so easy to tease and love.

...............................

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“Never seen outside surveillance bots before?” Iris can’t help but smile at his reaction, the way his eyes widen and he gazes at the small machines in wonder.

Not all of them are exactly the same, because they get designed with their specific purpose in mind. Mostly the aim is to hide them properly and yet still give them a bigger battery life plus being able to move long distances on their own through remote control. For the burnt forest area, their current location, bots are well. Unfairly cute, if Iris says so himself.

The two giddily floating in mid-air are small, round grey metallic balls about twice the size of Iris’s fists. They have two green lights on their front to record and to display their current battery percentage. To top it all of, there are cute, metallic green leaves on their ‘heads’, disguising them perfectly.

As soon as they see Iris, one of them runs at him, beeping loudly and whirring in panic. Iris shushes it gently, pressing his finger to his lips, and pats it on the leaf.

The bot’s light blinks a few times. “Report: pleasant.”

“I love them,” Lillium whispers.

Iris laughs, patting the bot a few more times before turning around. “They feel threatened if humans approach without warning.”

“They seem to like you just fine,” Lillium tells him, smirking and pointing towards his side, where the small bot has attached itself to him, pushing and whirring. It keeps sending him almost all of the footage from the past few months. If he doesn’t stop, Iris’s gonna have to shut down his servers, jesus.

“They like company,” Iris murmurs, setting his hand on the enthusiastic bot. He rubs fondly, nodding and humming to the messages it keeps sending him, things like human activity 23 hours earlier and storm! storm! storm! wind 50 km/h! storm!. “It’s lonely.”

For some reason, he doesn’t feel like he’s just talking about the surveillance bots, right now.

“I bet.” Lillium bites his lower lip. He crosses his arms over his chest, bites his lip. It seems like he’s hesitating, for a second, before a smug smirk spreads on his face. “So...are you their mommy?”

Iris snaps his head around. If he could blush, he would be. “No!”

“I don’t know, sweetheart.” Lillium waggles his eyebrows. “It wants you to cradle it and love it.”

“Oh, shut up!” Iris bites, too frustrated to argue. The worst thing is that Lillium is, well, sort of right. Bots like these get easily attached to androids, enough that they can follow them around. It used to happen to him around the precinct, to the point where Begonia would have to program them to leave him alone.

“You have adorable children, Iris,” Lillium teases him. He laughs. “Hey, is it alright if I touch them?”

Iris says, “Okay,” and gently pushes one of the bots in Lillium’s direction.

He better not fuck up.

Lillium pats the bot cautiously, his tongue sticking out in concentration.

The bot beeps. “Report: satisfying.”

Another pat.

“Report: your affinity with this bot has increased.”

Lillium covers his mouth with his hand. He whispers. “I’m in heaven.” He turns to Iris with the biggest puppy-dog eyes he’s ever seen. “Can we keep them? Please?”

Iris can’t help it: he laughs.

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#ctccomic #countdown to countdown #iris black #lillium white #android au #From dusk till dawn #meu #I-read-good-books

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himbowelsh · 8 years ago

Note

if it would interest you: high school au winnix, lew sneaking out to dick's house while his parents are fighting?

this interests me like hELLA

ever just the same, ever a surprise (ao3)

There are days when Dick considers himself a very grounded, down-to-earth person; and then there are days when he wonders if his life has been a modern-day Shakespeare reenactment all along and everybody just forgot to tell him.

Seeing Lewis Nixon scaling the side of his house tells him it’s one of those days.He watches, intrigued, for almost a minute before it occurs to him that he could be a lot more helpful if he bothered to help. By that time Lewis has already reached the middle of the trellis beneath Dick’s window. Before Dick can warn him about the dangers of rotting wood, he wraps his hand around the nearest rung – and immediately tumbles back.

Dick watches Lewis fall, and makes a noise of sympathy when he hits the ground. It doesn’t look too bad, but that’s going to leave a definite bruise for a while.

“We have stairs,” he calls. From the ground, Lewis lets out a long groan.By the time Dick rushes down the stairs and has left the back door swinging behind him, he finds his friend no longer prone. Instead Lewis is sitting up, admiring the patch of begonias he nearly landed on. Long fingers are caressing one flower’s slender stem. He looks dangerously tempted to pluck it before the sound of the porch door slamming causes him to look up.“Your mother’s garden gets more beautiful every time I almost destroy it,” he says. The remains of what used to be one of the rungs is still clutched in his free fist. Dick rolls his eyes, holding out a hand.“You broke my trellis,” he says as Lewis hauls himself to his feet. “I nearly broke myself. Your trellis should be easier to climb.”As they meander their way inside the house, Dick shakes his head. “Or you could have used the front door like anybody else,” he says, even as he holds the back door open for Lewis to follow him through. His friend’s footsteps are heavy on the wooden porch. Against the carpeted floors of Dick’s home, his shining loafers finally look a bit less out of place. He grins as they step into the cooler air of Dick’s home, eyes darting around to take in halls he’s seen dozens of times before. “My mom is making fried potatoes.”“Have I mentioned I love your mom?” Lewis pauses at the end of the hallway, not sure whether to continue up the stairs to Dick’s room or head into the kitchen. The heady smell of dinner seems to tempt him, but Dick can tell from the set of his shoulders that Lewis doesn’t feel like interacting with people right now. (Dick does not count as people to Lewis).So he pokes his head in the kitchen instead. His mother is at the stove, stirring a pot with one hand while adjusting the temperature with the other. He waits for her to finish before speaking. “Mom, Lewis is here.”His mother looks up in surprise, stray curls flying about her temples. “Oh! Is he staying for dinner?”Lewis quickly says “yes” behind him, and Dick smiles. “He is.”“Hi, Mom,” Lewis calls, poking his head over Dick’s shoulder. Dick’s mother waves her spoon at him, a fond smile playing across his lips. Dick’s parents love Lewis like another son. It’s not unusual for Lewis to drop by unannounced, so there’s always a free place at the table and enough food to go around.

“Do you need any help?” asks Dick, and his mother shakes her head.

“Nothing to help with. Dinner’s almost done – be downstairs in twenty minutes, but finish your homework first, alright?”

Dick nods and steps back into the hallway. He finds Lewis already waiting for him on the stair landing, leaning against the wall with deceptively casual nonchalance.

“You heard the lady,” he says as Dick leads the way up to his room. “What’ve we got today? Physics? Advanced calculus? The Art of War?”

“Nothing so interesting,” Dick replies. He pushes the door to his room open, and can feel Lewis’s smirk when he sees the mess of notebooks crowding his bed. “Three paragraphs of analysis on The Scarlet Letter and a bit of algebra. Pretty exciting stuff.”

“Dick, that sets my intrepid brain on fire. Don’t tease me like this.” Ignoring the mess, Lewis flops down on the bed. With his arms spread he looks like a starfish. Dick huffs and rescues one of his books from beneath his friend’s back. “I’m almost done. Give me five minutes.”

Lewis makes a noise of agreement, eyes slipping shut. He lies without movement, content to be still and silent as Dick’s pencil resumes its gentle scrabbling against paper. He’s not in a chatty mood. Not in a bad mood, either, but that could flip on a dime. Lewis’s temperament is mercurial at best.

At least tonight he doesn’t reek of whiskey. The memory of several weeks ago, with a stumbling, slurring Lewis throwing stones up at his bedroom window drifts into Dick’s mind uninvited, and he frowns as he pushes it away. Maybe this happens too much. He would never begrudge Lewis the sanctuary, however. He knows, and more importantly, he understands. There are times when Lewis cannot stand to stay in his house another second. If he didn’t come here he would wind up somewhere far less welcoming. If a house of friendly faces can assure Lewis’s peace of mind, Dick is glad to leave the door open at all house.

(That is, if he ever willingly used the door.)

Five minutes stretches into ten, and by the time Dick sets his finished work down Lewis’s breathing has deepened out. The hand cast over his face prevents Dick from seeing his eyes, but he guesses they’re closed. When he leans forward, his friend doesn’t stir.

“Lew. Are you asleep?”

“Yes,” replies Lewis.

“You better wake up then.” Dick gives his friend’s shoulder a light shake, and doesn’t bother letting go. When Lewis makes a noise of content, he turns to massaging his shoulders, easing out all the stress that has gathered there throughout the day. Dick keeps his tension in his stomach and back. Lewis builds his in his neck and shoulders. When he’s under strain, Dick can always tell from the tension in his throat, or the way the muscles of his shoulders bunch together. It is impossible to miss – at least, for him.

(Many people don’t pay Lewis the attention he deserves. Dick tries to make up for this every chance he gets.)

Lewis seems perfectly content to relax into his massage instead. Dick indulges him for a few minutes before the clock really starts ticking. Downstairs, he can hear his sister Ann chattering as she sets the table. They have to get ready for dinner.

He leans down, close enough for his breath to brush the dark fringe that falls over Lew’s forehead. “Lew, come on. Aren’t you hungry?”

Lewis is always hungry, frequently starving. That’s his teenage metabolism at play, and unlike at his own house here he isn’t scolded for eating too much or too little. Coaxing him down to dinner isn’t difficult – getting him out of bed is the hard part.

“Fine,” Lewis eventually sighs, and rolls off of Dick’s bed. He makes a show of drowsiness as they descend the stairs, but by the time they’re at the table Lewis is bright eyed and alert. He greets Dick’s father, pulls at Ann’s braids, and the family settles down to eat.

Lewis’s appetite hasn’t been affected by whatever happened at home. As time goes on, he gets his social graces back too. By the time Ann starts talking about re day at camp, he’s able to chime in and joke with her. He compliments Dick’s mother’s cooking, asks his father about work, and is every inch the charming Lewis that Dick met on their first day of high school.

He loves to see Lewis like this. When he is at his best, he makes up for every second of his worst. Dick can not help but love him when he sees Lewis happy, and these are the memories he holds fast to when Lewis is drunk and self-destructive.

Maybe he’s being too obvious, because when Lew looks over he catches Dick smiling at him. His hand nudges Dick’s own – subtly, but just enough for them both to feel it. Lewis’s lips twitch up in a smirk, and Dick meets his gaze, unabashed.

(He admires Lewis, and wants him to know it. Lewis is wonderful, amazing, intelligent, beautiful – and if he won’t think those things about himself, Dick will think them all tenfold.)

“Careful,” Lewis says after dinner, sprawled out on Dick’s bed once more. “You keep staring at me like that and I’ll go weak at the knees.”

“Well, that’s the plan,” Dick replies, scanning over his bookshelf for something to read. He does not look behind him, but he knows he’ll see Lewis with his chin in his palms, elbows balanced on his bed, that same wicked smirk on his lips. He selects a book before turning around. “Did you bring nightclothes?”

“I climbed out the window again, Dick. I barely brought my shoes.”

“What is it with you and windows?”

“I live dangerously.” Mr. Dangerous barely manages to catch the night shirt Dick tosses his way. “Ugh, plaid? What, are we on a farm?”

“Pretty much,” Dick replies, and settles next to Lewis with his book. Lewis knows he can pick whatever he wants from the bookshelf, but he chooses to read over Dick’s shoulder instead. His body presses up against Dick’s side, and Dick tries to pretend the proximity doesn’t make him feel warm all over.

He knows how this night will end. Lewis will read with him, they’ll talk for awhile, and Dick will eventually fall asleep. He’ll wake up in the night to find Lewis passed out next to him, as unashamedly as if they were two children sharing a bed. Maybe he’ll be wearing a placid, blank expression; maybe he’ll be frowning, caught in the midst of some unsettling dream. Either way, Dick will run his hands through his hair and soothe him until content has take over his sleeping face.

They’ll wake up tomorrow for breakfast, and another day spent in each other’s company. Eventually Lewis will have to go home, but that is a far off concern until the time comes.

They’ve done this enough times that Dick knows exactly how it goes.

#lewis nixon #winnix #band of brothers #hbo war #yonic-flowers #richard winters #my fic #'should have been born earlier' au

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i-read-good-books · 8 years ago

Text

CTC LiS AU because I’m trash

because @velocesmells indulges me way too much and ??? i love them???

The Pool Scene

“I can’t believe you’re actually doing this,” Iris mutters, wrapping his arms around his waist.

“Oh, come on.” Even in his teasing, Lillium is gentle instead of harsh. He takes off his t-shirt near the edge of the pool, kicking his shoes off away from the water. The guy’s grown up in the years Iris’s been away, and it’s not hard to notice. Where they were once pretty similar in body type, Lillium’s gotten about twenty pounds of muscle (well-defined and perfectly lickable, alright), and he’s much broader now.

The translucent blue light reflected in the pool’s surface lights up Lillium’s skin, given it a strange, sickly tone that makes him look ethereal, unattainable, out of this world. It makes Iris’s heart race just slightly.

He’s seen Lillium die too many times to not feel unsettled when he seems out of reach.

“Get in the pool, you coward,” Lillium cackles, throwing his discarded t-shirt at him and winking suggestively.

Iris scowls, “I am smart enough to not have a fervent desire for pneumonia, unlike some other people I could name.”

“You know, I’m hearing all these fancy words, but you’re still standing there.”

Lillium shimmies out of his ripped jeans, whistling a tune like he’s performing a strip tease and waving the trousers over his head before once again launching them at Iris. He rolls his eyes and avoids them with a single step, feeling a smile curl his lips involuntarily.

“Nice try.”

Lillium smiles back, a bit more honestly. It’s awkward, seeing him in his underwear, even though this is definitely not the first almost naked guy Iris has been with. It just - it’s different, with Lillium, because Iris remembers showering together at the end of swimming lessons, or going to the local pool together during summers. He remembers making fun of Lillium because Begonia kept chasing him around when her friend wasn’t there; remembers holding hands as they jumped into the water.

Iris remembers knowing Lillium so well that his every breath had meaning to it that he could decipher, that their gazes were locked on each other’s, knowing and conspiratorial.

Now there’s a darkness to his friend that’s frightening, there’s a distance between them that he isn’t sure he’s going to be able to breach by himself. And Lillium looks so much older.

He’s startled out of his thoughts by the sudden flash of movement in the corner of his eye, and then takes a step back as Lillium gets into the pool. His friend lets out a soft sigh, humming in pleasure.

“Oh, yeah, that’s the stuff.”

Iris snorts, “It’s got a heater, not a dildo, Lillium.”

“Oooh, crass, Iris. I dig it.” Lillium splashes at him playfully.

“Hey!” he whines. “Watch it, asshole.”

“Nope.” Another splash, this time reaching him and wetting his shoes. “What you gonna do about it?”

Iris swallows hard. Lillium looks like he’s having fun now, splashing around stupidly as if they’re just kids. He’s making bubbles in the water by burying his face halfway, snorting air through his nose (gross). And well. Lillium probably won’t let it go if he doesn’t get in, will he?

(It has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Iris might really, really want to do it. Might want to behave like a dumb twelve year old in a deserted school, making a ruckus and playing with fire. Might want to kick Lillium’s legs under the water and feel his bare skin.)

Taking off his clothes in under 30 seconds is easy - and, for once, Lillium doesn’t whistle obnoxiously at it, just stays quiet and looks away - and then it’s just a matter of shutting his eyes and refusing to acknowledge the possibility that the water might be cold. Nope. Not even touching that.

Fortunately, warmth welcomes him, followed shortly by Lillium clapping excitedly and splashing more water at his face in greeting. Seriously, the guy’s like a very confused puppy sometimes. Iris makes a face.

“I feel like this is a huge victory,” Lillium jokes, waddling over to him. “I still recall that when we were 14 you went all emo and stuff -”

“I was not emo!”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Lillium sing-songs. “Anyway, you started to stop going to the beach with me. It took me hours to get you into the water.”

“Yeah,” Iris mumbles, shivering slightly. “Well, I had a very limited budget, and waterproof nailpolish wasn’t included.”

“Cute,” Lillium murmurs, a soft breath that heats up Iris’s cheeks. His friend leans back on the water, letting it support his weight. He’s silent, for a few minutes. Iris lets him be.

“I wish Begonia were here,” he finally whispers, after what seems like forever. There’s a raw edge to his voice, caught between regret and resentment, flavored by the salty aftertaste of helplessness that sometimes comes through. “She doesn’t like pools that much, but she loves the sea.”

Lillium always speaks about Begonia in the present tense. Iris doesn’t correct him. It’d be useless to do so, anyway.

“You’d like her,” Lillium’s voice breaks at the end of the sentence, shattering in a charged silence.

Iris bites his lower lip, “Yeah, I’m sure.” He hesitates, but then swims over to Lillium, clasping their hands together. His friend stares at him, mouth open slightly and eyebrows raised, but he just squeezes reassuringly. Lillium needs it, right now. “Begonia sounds amazing, from what you’ve told me.”

“Oh, she is,” Lillium smiles again. Iris can breathe, finally. “I don’t know, Iris, I’m starting to think everything’s connected. And your power is changing so many things…”

“Tell me about it,” he mutters, his fingers tracing the back of Lillium’s palm tenderly. He finds a familiar scar in the webbing between his index and middle finger, a short white line. Lillium got it the time they tried to chop onions as kids. “It keeps giving me headaches.”

“Not just that.” Lillium’s voice is husky. “You’ve always been incredible, I’ve known that since we were kids. But now? Now, you’re a… you’re almost a force of nature, in itself.”

Iris snorts. “Cheesy much?”

“Sometimes,” Lillium gets closer, dropping his pose where he was being held up by the water, and moves until they’re standing in front of each other. His eyes are dark. His eyelashes are dripping. “The cheesier it sounds, the truer it is.”

Iris looks away, swallowing. He leans his forearm on the edge of the pool, resting his forehead against the cool, white tiles. “My powers failed today. I’m just stumbling through time like an idiot, Lillium. Don’t make it sound cooler than it is.”

“You didn’t stumble when you saved me,” Lillium replies softly.

“What if I had?” he can’t help but ask, turning his head desperately. He bites his lower lip. “What if I had, Lillium?”

“You didn’t,” Lillium reminds him, and puts his arm over his shoulders, warm and reassuring. It’s a familiar weight on his back, a presence that’s been taking care of him since he was old enough to have memories, and now it carries a new sense, something that makes his mouth run dry and his thoughts crumble apart before they’re coherent. “You didn’t, and I’m still here.”

Iris doesn’t say anything, just leans into him. He’ll be embarrassed about this tomorrow, when there’s a chasm separating them again, but right now he seeks refuge more than progress in their bumpy relationship.

“I’m not leaving you, Iris, not ever,” Lillium whispers into his hair, gentle. “If you don’t know anything, at least you can remember that.”

Iris shuts his eyes, and lets the pool wash away his worries.

Fin

(might make this a multichapter thing if people like it?)

#ctc comic #countdown to countdown #life is strange

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nowitsdarkfic · 5 years ago

Text

chapter thirty-six (across the waters)

November 5, 1988. Rochester, New York.

We're back here, and I don't know if Marcia and Sonia are back yet, so as far as I know their shop is locked and Maya is locked in there. Lars takes the first exit leading us towards their upholstery shop and I'm so nervous that I can hardly keep the crustini sandwiches down all the way. I swallow as we reach the street it's on: I recognize the front stairs leading up to Marcia and Sonia's apartment. The rain is still falling down hard upon the roof over our heads, so hard that I'm amazed I can even hear Spence's voice.

“I say the three of us back here go in there to check it out,” he volunteers.

“Just you guys?” I ask him, peering into the rear view mirror.

“Yeah, man,” Billy offers. “She's lived with us for a while. We know how to put a handle on her.”

We pull up to the curb before the shop, which, to my surprise, is bright lit, even though Marcia and Sonia are still back around Buffalo as far as I know. Lars then yanks on the lever between us. He peers over his shoulder, his wet hair still clinging to the sides of his face and neck.

“Have at it, gentlemen,” he encourages them. Spence climbs out first, followed by Barney and Billy. The door shuts behind them and we watch them bow their heads against the rain as they walk up to the front door.

“Really hope she hasn't done anything horrific in there,” I wonder aloud.

“I doubt it,” he says in a soft voice. “Maya is a writer, and she is a pacifist as a result. She doesn't believe that war or violence or anything like that is the answer. Her mantra is if you want to fight for something, you use your words and your heart. She's a profound writer that way.”

I turn to the sight of him with his forearm on the top of the steering wheel.

“I don't understand, Lars. Why didn't you tell me all of this before?”

“Well—the answer, while twofold, is very simple, actually. Part of it comes from the fact that, like you, I am still trying to figure her out. She fell off the radar for as long as she did and I had my work cut out for me. The other side of it is—and this is the not so simple part, now that I think about it. I haven't really had anyone to speak to about it.”

“Well, yeah, you've told me that before but it's still—it's still—”

“Hard to swallow?”

“Eh—yes, actually.”

“Well, Joey—” He smiles and sticks the tip of his tongue into the corner of his mouth. “Man, I should've known.”

“Should've known what?”

“How eager you are. Like I remember hearing about you the first time, and how quick you learned all the songs Anthrax brought up to you when you guys were recording your first album together. You are what is known as a 'sponge,' in that like a kitchen sponge, you absorb things rather quickly. That is a talent so many do not have because young children are primarily known for being sponges. My wife, meanwhile—as much as I don't want to say this—is a 'stone', blocking anything new and as a result it goes in one ear and out the other. Sponges drink the water, stones let it pass them by.”

I still have that sentiment Maya wrote in that first edition of her zine firmly imprinted on my mind. Maybe this is what she meant by that: she wants to know things like how I wish to know more. She doesn't want to drown because she doesn't want to lose that ability, that ability so reminiscent of being a young child and being so open. Of course. It makes sense.

I stare back out the window to the upholstery shop, at the fluorescent lights on the ceiling on the inside.

Surely, she's got to be in there.

“Joey, when you get the chance,” Lars starts again, still in a soft voice, “look out my window.”

I turn my head to find him peering out his. I follow his gaze to across the street.

“Bunch of buildings?”

“Past that.”

I gaze beyond the little places across the street to the stretch of darkness that is Lake Ontario. Embedded in the lake effect fog is a single line of blue and green neon lights, all of them hovering over the water. Despite the rain, they're bright, as bright as they were in the University District of Seattle. The sight of them is enough to make me shiver.

“Headed your way,” he says in a near whisper, a tone of voice so soft, I have to lean closer to him to hear him. “Headed your way from across the waters.”

“Or so they think,” I answer, my face within a couple of inches from his ear. “So they wish.”

He slowly turns his head to look at me right in the eye. I swallow at the sight of his green eyes piercing into the fabric of my very being. I then pull my head back from him and straighten myself out. His gaze never wavers as I sink back into the seat.

“By the way—you heard this from me, too,” he starts again, this time in a louder voice, “I'm gonna tell you this right now—what happened to Brick was no accident.”

“How so?”

“Think about it. You find something huge about his family that you didn't know about before—shortly thereafter, he gets badly hurt, so much that he ends up in the hospital and Spencer has to give him a bunch of his blood. Maxwell Industries—his last name is Maxwell. Does this make any kind of sense to you?”

“Yeah, and also no.”

“What's hanging you up then?”

“Because I know Brick. He's not involved in any conspiracy or anything like that. That's ridiculous.”

“Oh? Oh, you think it's ridiculous? Was his family well off?”

“Yeah, okay, they were. Still are. Growing up, they were the robust immigrant family from Quebec, but as far as—something like that? Having a huge company that wants to pervade everything? Meh. I don't see it. I don't buy it.”

“From Quebec, you said?”

“Yeah. I have so many memories of going over to his house on the weekends so we could play hockey and his parents always threw French phrases at me. We'd play out in the backyard, where they had this big flower garden on the side of the yard, and—” The memory's coming back to me now. “—oh God, one time I remember we were messing around with our hockey sticks and we were getting a little too close to the begonias, and his mom opened the kitchen window and she was like 'sacre bleu! You keeds! Geet ze 'ell out of zere!'” That gets a laugh out of him.

“Do you remember what his parents did? Like for work?”

“I don't,” I confess. “All I know is they had enough with them to move down from… Sherbrooke, I think it was called, over to—literally, of all places in upstate New York—Oswego. I remember they always had something to eat, and some things just never change.”

“Right? By the way, do you still—have—” He gestures to my jacket and take out the two little crustini sandwiches I had slipped into the interior. He takes them both with both of his index fingers and thumbs.

“Never got the second batch.” He's about to pop one into his mouth when he hesitates.

“You said—her mother is my landlady, right?” he asks me, reluctant. “My landlady down in New Orleans.”

“Candace's mother is your landlady,” I correct him. “Pertaining to Maya, I have no idea.”

He pauses again, the sandwiches in his fingers, and a glimmer in his eye. Suddenly I'm feeling the arrowhead pendant on the inside of my shirt.

“Don't even think about it,” I tell him off.

“Let's pay her a little visit, shall we?” he follows up as soon as the words leave my lips.

“Dammit.”

“What? Just a little visit in the morning. We can have tea.”

“I don't want tea.”

“The shit you say.”

He squints his eyes at me.

“You don't wanna go back to New Orleans, don't you.”

“Not right now. Not with a raging hurricane down there right now, no.”

“I'm sure the storm has long passed, Joey. The sole thing you would perhaps worry about down there the most is a bit of a flood and getting your pants wet.”

“Alright, fine. As long as it gets me back into the restaurant to perform again. I think they like my singing.”

He gapes at me.

“Hang on, hang on, that was you?”

“Well, who else would it be?”

“True. Anyways, tomorrow morning, we shall take the next wormhole down to the French Quarter. But until then, I am bunking with Marcia and Sonia right around the corner. You can join us if you would like, Joey.”

“No, thanks. I'll—sleep in my own bed tonight.”

“Alright. Oh, right, right, I gotta take the three of them home, too—speaking of which, here they come—”

He pops the one in his right hand into his mouth as the back door behind me swings open. Billy and Barney pile in first, followed by Spence.

“Well?” I ask them.

“Well what?” Barney retorts.

“She's not here,” Spence replies.

“Are you shitting me?” Lars demands with his mouth full.

“Nope. Place is pristine, too, like she cleaned everything and straightened everything out.”

“Just like how she did with my apartment…” I mutter under my breath.

“It was weird, too. Walking in there and seeing all the tulles and spools neat and trimmed nicely. Even the threads on the loom in the back were wiped clean. But we searched for her, though. We finally got out of there because the three of us were feeling the heebie jeebies from it being so clean and quiet in there.”

I nibble on my bottom lip as Lars gazes on at me with the other crustini in his fingers.

“Taking you guys home,” he says, pushing down the parking lever.

#after the watershed #now it's dark #chapter 36 #new chapter #fanfic #fanfiction #heavy metal fanfiction #thrash metal #anthrax fanfics #metallica fanfics #joey belladonna #lars ulrich #anthrax #metallica #noir au #dark sci-fi #cyberpunk #amwriting #text

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melonoverlord · 7 years ago

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Turt’s ask meme for Gail the good good child

1. What would be their favorite Disney (or other animated) movie?

If anyone asked her, she’d say she didn’t like Disney movies because they were for kids or they weren’t cool, but she secretly loves the Aristocats. One of her favorite characters anywhere has always been Marie the kitty.

2. What do they usually like for breakfast?

Egg and chorizo burrito. Bailey and her both eat a little too much spicy food but when you live in Texas, what can you do?

3. What sort of cuddler are they?

Gail usually doesn’t like to be touched unless she knows the person very well. Once she gets to the Library and reconciles with her brother or gets close with any of the Scholars, she’ll just swing her legs over her friends and just chill there or rest her head on their lap. She doesn’t like to cuddle in the traditional sense of being hugged, but she’ll be happy just flopping on you and asserting her dominance.

4. How do they say “I love you”?

It’s usually preceded by an insult like “Damn you’re super stupid, but I love you”, but she more shows it by entertaining you and sitting down and talking about feelings. Both and Bailey are big believers in sharing feelings, just Gail is a little bit more forward about it. She is honest though in that if she says she loves you, she means it.

5. What kind of shoes do they wear?

Black combat boots or gray converse.

6. What is their favorite accessory?

A black and pearl choker that Bailey’s ex-boyfriend and her current “guardian” Leo gave her.

7. Are they more inclined towards fashion or comfort?

Definitely fashion. For a fourteen year old girl, she makes very good fashion choices that make conservative adults very scared. She’s a fashion punk and she’s coming for your pearls.

8. What makes them laugh?

Bailey or Leo doing anything stupid, anything John Mulaney, eventually the catfights between Ashi and Philly, and of course Ezra being a total dweeb lord. She and Sarita are going to become best friends.

9. Do they have a favorite flower?

Begonias. Not only do they sound funny, they’re beautiful and ombre.

10. Would they be the one to propose to their significant other?

Totally. She is tired of being alone and just wants someone to hold. Plus opening that ring box is a power move and has big dick energy like her.

11. What bad habits do they have?

Being way to blunt about her feelings, shutting people out who’ve hurt her but haven’t meant to, getting into arguments for the fun of it, holding a grudge like no other.

12. What are their biggest insecurities?

Honestly, Gail is one of the few kids with stellar self esteem. The only insecurity she has is if Bailey will want to see her after all these years.

13. How do they wear their hair?

Short, half shaved and natural. Sometimes she’ll straighten it for the aesthetic, but a girl has got to slay with natural hair.

14. Are they an impulse shopper? If so, what would they buy?

Oh definitely. She will go to target with just 20 bucks and come out with 100 dollars worth of stuff, usually clothes, makeup, and movies. She is a huge movie buff and watches odd sci-fi and horror with Leo all the time.

15. When do they usually sleep?

She usually tries to go to bed at around 10:30pm just so she has time to bounce around dreams. Time moves a lot faster in dreams so she has to act fast.

16.What makes them worry?

Not being able to find Bailey, not liking what she’ll find when she finds him, leaving Leo behind to face another one of his closest friends leaving, the American prison system, taxes.

17. Do they have any creative outlets?

She’s been doing digital art since she was around ten, and she’s helped Leo with some of his album covers, so when she comes to the Library, she’ll be totally down to do some covers for Ashi when she makes music. Plus she’ll do digital art of all her friends.

18. How do they comfort an upset loved one?

Usually trying to talk to them about their feelings, and putting a hand on their shoulder while she makes them iced tea. She’s not necessarily the greatest as comfort since she’s usually been on the receiving end, but she’s learned a lot from both Bailey and Leo and she’d do an alright job.

19. What are they like when they’re sick?

No one is ever sure when Gail is sick because she always acts normal. You can only tell she’s sick if you come close to her and see that her body temperature is radiating heat and she is looking through you. Otherwise, she’s great at keeping her cool.

20. Do they say what they’re thinking, or keep their thoughts to themselves?

Gail is one of the only kids at the Library who doesn’t hide their feelings behind a twenty foot wall. She will 100% let you know what she thinks about you whether it’s that you’re the most annoying person she’s ever met or that she’s afraid that she won’t like what she’ll find when she reunites with Bailey.

21. What is the best gift they’ve ever received?

The last gift she got from Bailey when she was nine was a stuffed pig that she still carries around with her (though heavily hidden in a backpack). His name is Sir Oinks of the North Sea.

22. Are they good at keeping track of time?

If she’s waiting for something, yes. But in the sense of generally knowing what time it is, she can be gone for a week and think it’s only been a day.

23. What is their favorite ice cream flavor?

Chocolate chip cookie dough. She’s that asshole who takes all the cookie dough from the container and just leaves it as “chocolate chip ice cream”

24. What would they order from a fast food/take-out place?

Kung Pao chicken, Broccoli beef, spicy pork, so many dumplings, and about eight fortune cookies just for her.

25. What is their favorite pizza topping(s)?

Meat Lovers with jalapenos. Sausage, chorizo, pepperoni, ham, chicken, and really anything meaty that would most likely cause heartburn.

26. What is their favorite type of cookie?

Simple chocolate chip.

27. Do they paint their nails?

The only acceptable color is black, but sometimes she’ll paint her nails blue when she misses her brother, or white.

28. What is their favorite board game?

Guess Who. Since getting telepathy, she’s learned how to cheat by reading minds, but she loves asking questions based on vibe rather than looks (ie: “Do they look like a Republican?”, “Would they go down on Kathy Bates?”)

29. Are they more of a pants or skirts kind of person?

Its a toss up. 50% of the time she wears ripped jeans or cutoffs, and then the other 50%, she’s in punk skirts and leggings.

30. Do they dream often? What about?

She’s recently been able to telepathically link herself to people in her dreams, so usually she uses her dreams as a way to talk to Bailey and try to find out where he is. She hasn’t gotten very far, but when talking to Bailey doesn’t work, she’ll just jump around in people’s heads and try to see what’s up with them. It’s a fun exercise and she hasn’t been caught.... yet.

31. Do they have any phobias?

Ants, bears, and vomit.

32. If they were a pokemon, which would they be?

Mew, small and suspiciously cute, but is very powerful and could fuck up your day if you try to cross it.

33. How well do they handle sea travel? Air travel?

She doesn’t mind either. She gets a little queasy on airplanes, but she handles it a lot better than her brother. She doesn’t get as claustrophobic.

34. Which Disney character are they most like?

Moana. Spiritual, on the hunt for a dude that definitely fucked up, bless by the hair gods, and isn’t afraid to hit someone with something big and flat.

35. What sort of parent would they be?

I don’t think Gail would ever become a mom, but become the cool aunt to Bailey’s kids that bring them gifts from all over the world and remind them how big of a dipshit their father is. Bailey is equal parts grateful that Gail wants to be a part of his and his kids’ lives, and equal parts insulted that Gail has this many stories about him being stupid.

#liminoidal #Abigail LeClair #my characters #Library of Alexandria campaign

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