#Slaps an extra eyeball onto him.

[mxldito]

🧛<3

Send me a 🧛 and I'll assign a vampire clan to your muse.

If only because of Avi's nature I want to call him as Salubri. Like he just seems like a pretty good-natured guy and when it comes to Embrace, I feel like he likely has what the Salubri are looking for in a person. Alternatively, he could make for a particularly atypical Lasombra. At least compared to the usual archetypes you may find in the clan. This would be because the abilities he has in his main verse could loosely be translated into some aspects of Oblivion.

[justastraymoa]

ADVENTURES WITH CHEESE EXTENDED EDITION PT 4

Life with the boys was an adventure. Now that they weren’t trying to get me to stay they had relaxed and really brought out their true selves. Too much of their true selves sometimes. They were a little too comfortable around me occasionally. I had seen way too much of some of them. I needed soap for my eyeballs.

Chan was specifically known for walking around in barely any clothes. Leaving very little to the imagination and giving me too much of a shock so early in the mornings.

However, I was still enjoying my new living situation. It was the first time since moving away from my birth home that I felt like I was in a home again. This apartment with these 4 men and Cheese was my home and my family as well.

Especially when they burst into my room in the early morning without knocking. As annoying as it was, it was still familiar. Familial.

Bin jumped on the bed next to me poking the top of my head where it peaked out from the blanket. “We are going to go out today, do you want to come?”

I grumbled. I did kind of want to go, but I also had been working extra hours at work and wanted to enjoy my day off. Starting with staying in bed late and sleeping in. “No, go without me. Ill do something with you guys later.” I promised.

With a loud whine Bin moved to drape his heavy frame over my smaller one dramatically. I let out a squeak as all the air in my lungs was forced out of me. “Binnie…cant…breathe!”

“You have been so busy we haven’t seen you in so long!” He whined still not moving off of me.

“I can see…the light.”

“Bin, she is actually starting to turn blue.” Lino came to my rescue finally.

I gasped in air dramatically when Bin finally rolled off me. It wasn’t that he was overly heavy, but I was laying on my side and my lungs were being crushed. “Drama Queen.” He grumbled.

“What did I do?” Hyune asked offended throwing his hands up.

“Not you, y/n!”

I slapped at Bins back playfully. “Next time let me roll over so I don’t die!”

Chan, ever the dad, stepped in before we could really start to argue with each other. “Alright, she has had a busy week. Lets leave her to get some rest.”

They filed out, making as much noise as possible. Lino and Chan each gave me a kiss on the top of my bedhead before my room was finally empty and quiet again. With a sigh I closed my eyes to hopefully catch up on some more sleep.

I woke up several hours later, groggy and bladder full. As I slowly woke up I was shocked that I was able to even sleep as long as I did. Usually, Cheese would have come in to find out why I was still in bed. Patting my face and back with a single sharp claw to see if I was still alive. Mewing in my ear and licking my hair into more of a knotted mess in worry when all I did was roll over instead of getting up. Seriously who needed alarm clocks when you had a cat?

But this morning my room was sans Cheese and my skin was cat scratch free. Suspicious I called for him.

Cheese always came right to me when I called for him. Even if he was with one of the boys. I was still and always will be his favorite. A subject of much jealousy in the apartment.

This time however, there was no patter of paws on the floor running to me. There was no questioning meow at the foot of my bed as Cheese asked to be lifted onto it instead of jumping because he was too lazy to at the moment. And he knew that I would lift him up every time.

Instead, there was silence. Not even the tv or music could be heard. This apartment was rarely quiet. Not even in the dead of night. Chan always had music going or way playing on his phone because he couldn’t sleep, and there was Cheeses snoring from whatever bed he chose to sleep in that night.

Throwing off the blankets I looked around the room, checking all his usual spots. “Cheese, baby, where are you?” I called moving to check the rest of the apartment.

Slowly as I kept looking I could feel my heartrate pick up and anxiety spike. Where was Cheese? I couldn’t find him anywhere in the apartment. I even filled his foot bowl, which always brought him running, belly pouch swinging side to side as he did.

I had to admit the picture they got was amazing. The cloudy sky and the barn with the field and Cheese being a black cat. Very witchy. Very Halloween. I saved the picture to my phone and took a deep breath.

My anxiety had ramped up pretty high while I was searching for Cheese, so now I was completely awake, full of anxiety, and a little jumpy as well. There went my relaxing day. Oh well. It was nice while it lasted.

They must have messaged me from the road because it was less than an hour later that the front door opened and four loud voices filled up the quiet I had been trying to enjoy. “Cheese!” I called holding my arms out for my baby.

With a loud meow Cheese ran into the room and jumped into my waiting arms, rubbing his head all over my face and purring loudly.

“Geez, we weren’t gone that long.” Chan said with a chuckle.

I glared playfully over at him, hugging Cheese closer and moving him away from them. “You were gone forever. I counted. And you stole my cat!”

“Our cat.” Lino corrected.

“I’m pretty sure Cheese is the one who owns us, not the other way around.” Hyune put in with a shrug like he knew this fact and did not care.

I shrugged back, it was pretty true, I had to give him that one.

Cheese refused to leave my side for the next several hours. Even doing his duty by following me into the bathroom for what I like to call toilet lovins. God forbid anyone in this apartment actually close the bathroom door all the way when Cheese wasn’t in the room with you. Cheese would yowl like you stepped on his tail and forgot to feed him until you opened it again.

Cooking dinner with Lino was a nightly thing now. We worked around each other like it was a highly trained dance. And we were even getting so good as not needing to ask each other for things, the other just kind of knew and had it all ready to go for the other.

The other 3 and even Cheese learned to stay out of our kitchen when we cooked. They only got in the way and ended up being stepped on or having something spilled on them. And then they had to deal with me or Lino or both of us being annoyed at them. Plus they had to clean up whatever mess they made.

It was during such time that both mine and Linos phone went off and I opened mine to find the scariest picture of Cheese I had ever seen in my life. And I took the picture of Cheese after he sneezed into the powdered sugar!

“What the fuck is that!” I asked mostly to myself, but it prompted Lino to check his own messages.

“I swear to god you guys are going to send me to an early grave! What is wrong with all of you?”

Lino scoffed and handed me a serving spoon. “Oh, please. You love us and you know it.”

I snatched the spoon from him and started stirring my stir fry, not responding to him. This caused him to chuckle as he passed behind me.

I whacked his arm.

I told the group over dinner that I would be heading out the following week for another overnight work trip. I felt a little odd. I didn’t wasn’t to assume that they would watch Cheese for me, but I also didn’t want to offend anyone by offering to find a cat sitter or something. It was a odd predicament to be in. Luckily Chan seemed to understand what I wasn’t saying.

“Don’t worry about Cheese. We got him.”

A released a breath in relief. “Are you sure though? I can try and find someone; I don’t want to leave it all on you.”

Hyune rolled his eyes. “Yes, y/n. We are sure.”

“Where are you heading this time?” Bin asked, smoothly moving the conversation on.

It turned out that my work trip was going to be very near Linos’s hometown. Something that perked him right up and got him animated.

“I should come with you. You can stay with me at my parents’ house, and I can visit for a couple of days. I haven’t been able to in a while and I miss everyone. Plus, my mother has been asking to meet you.”

I almost spit my mouthful of food out, instead forcing it and a lot of air painfully down my throat. “You told your mother about me?” I wheezed when I could talk again.

“We all have, im pretty sure. I know my parents ask after you and Cheese anytime I call now.” Bin shrugged.

Oh my god I was going to get murdered by their parents. At the very least they would give me a strange look wondering why a single woman was living with 4 grown men. This is the worst. This is it.

Lino laughed loudly. “You look ready to start crying, y/n. What do you think we have been talking badly about you?”

I flailed my arms in what I hoped properly conveyed my panic. “No, but your parents are going to think so badly of me and hate me!”

“Why?” Hyune asked furrowing his brows.

“Because I live with you! They will think I am some kind of slut or something! Oh lord, what have I done?”

“Relax, y/n! Its not like we are living in the 1900s. Men and woman live together all the time without being in a relationship.” Chan tried to soothe.

Truth was, I was full of anxiety the entire way there.

Even after the initial greetings and small talk, I was just waiting for the judgmental questioning to start. Not even meeting Linos cats helped.

Though Soonie seemed to know that I was feeling some type of way. Either that or he just took a good liking to me and wanted to be cuddled up to me a lot. It did help, so im not complaining.

Soonie, Doongie, and Dori were absolutely adorable, and Lino took such pride in introducing each of them to me. He had shown me pictures and videos of course, but nothing was like meeting them in person.

And he just kept telling me story after story about them. Even if I had already heard most of them. I let him tell me again, knowing that he had missed his babies and wanted to share his love for them with me. He wanted me to love them just as much. It was an easy ask. They were quite lovable.

It wasn’t until much later, when his mother was showing me where I would sleep that anything was actually brought up. “You seem a little nervous. My son said something earlier about you being worried I would look down on you for living with them?”

She said it like a question, but it was more of a statement of fact and we both knew it. “I don’t want any of the parents to think I am using them or taking advantage.” I simply explained instead.

Her smile was very soft and motherly. And I could see where Lino got his smile from. “From what the boys have told me-and yes I speak to all of them-you have been very good for them. Us parents worry about our kids being out there alone. And yes we worry that someone will take advantage of them. But you don’t seem like the type. If anything they are taking advantage of you.”

I balked at that. “Not at all! They have been very nice and welcoming!”

“Yes, I have no doubt about that. I raised my son well, he knows better. But people change when they move out. And they don’t always take care of themselves or their homes properly. But from what I’ve been told you keep them on their toes and in line.”

I chuckled almost humorlessly. “Yes, ive been told that I am too motherly. I smother mother people.”

This got a full laugh from the older woman. “That is not always a bad thing, dear. You just must find the right people to need and want that kind of person. And you found 4 of them.”

Compared to the last trip this one was smooth and easy. I got to spend time with Lino and his family when I wasn’t working instead of in a lonely hotel room or with people from work I barely know and liked even less. And it seemed to go by a lot faster too, though that was both good and bad. Especially for Lino who seemed to get sadder and sadder as the days went by.

There was also the fact that I did not need to worry about Cheese this time around. The others sent regular update and pictures in the chat and seemed to be having fun.

I laughed maniacally knowing that I now had a text chain going with his parents.

A/N: okay so like listen. I have no idea about anyones family/parents in Stray Kids. They don’t seem to talk about it much and I respect their privacy. Again this is all for fun and made up.

Thank you for reading, and thank you for interacting in any way if you do. And even if you don’t.

Taglist: @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor

[ask-the-totally-real-peppino]

(*Smashes through the door* I have finished the thing

I did lose steam part of the way through, so the ending is a little tepid, but I think it's still cute, hehe

Basically, this is 'Pep experiences fireworks for the first time and it is not fun'

Content warnings for: Depiction of a panic attack, self-harm (unintentional but still), descriptions of body horror, (sorta) flashback to war, an implied gun, and Peppino says fuck

Okay enjoy! (1,403 words under dere!!!)

It was busy.

Busier than usual.

Unusual for a Tuesday, but Pep didn't mind. He was more than happy to create and share his pizzas with others. But all the extra business aside, something else was unusual today, and Pep could not stop tasting it.

There was a constant saltiness to Peppino, most likely due to how much the man sweat, but the ever-growing pungency of raw onions and black pepper began to give his doppelgänger cause for concern. Was it just the amount of people visiting today? Was something going to happen? Pep did not know, but the thoughts caused his own anxieties to start bubbling in his chest. He chose not to ask, instead continuing on with helping Peppino close up shop for the evening.

The sky was very pretty at this time. Oranges, pinks and purples, as the sun said goodbye for today. Pep liked to watch the colours shift and change into deeper blues and indigos, but it didn't feel right today. He lifted his head from his arms, parts of where his chin and forearms began to merge getting pulled apart, and looked at the door of Peppino's room. It was made quite clear early on not to disturb him when the door was closed, and Pep respected his space, despite the gnawing urge to knock on his door. The clone gave a quiet huff, again noting the taste of pepper and onions, and… Something bitter…? Oh, cilantro… Yuck. Pep hadn't figured out what that taste was for Peppino yet, but it certainly wasn't a pleasant one. His eyes rolled in their sockets for a moment, trying to recall memories of cilantro. He thought back to just a few hours ago - Peppino did seem hesitant to say goodbye to Gustavo and Brick… Was it something to do with them?

Pep didn't have much time to ponder, as a shrill sound pierced through his thoughts, shattering them with a BANG. He was suddenly on high alert, skin inhumanely stretched up into points along his back and shoulders. There was another screeeeeech, and a BANG. His chest heaved as simulated breath grew tight in his non-existent lungs. And another. His nails dug into the windowsill, the black colouring beginning to spiral up his fingers. And another. Pep's vision started to blur as his eyeballs melted in his form of crying, but he could still see with every boom, colours flashed and danced outside. Was this some sort of warning? An attack? He couldn't make sense of it, as yet another BANG brought his hands to his ears. His doughy skin making a wet slap against itself as his fear made his form quickly unstable. There were other sounds too - crackling, popping, screaming… Or was it cheering…? - It didn't matter! Pep wanted it all blocked out, as he held onto his head tighter and tighter. His hands fused into his ears and cheeks, becoming unrecognisable as what they were supposed to be. But his fingers held strong, now striped with black as his sharpened nails buried themselves deep into his head. Every boom jolted him to his core. The smell of gunpowder made him sick- No, wait- He didn't know what that was? Did he? He felt himself sink further and further down into the mud. His lower body was caked in the stuff- No! There was no mud-! Why is there mud? Pep managed a look down, finding not a puddle of his legs, but… Boots? He didn't… Wear boots? Did he? He saw… Shrapnel around his feet. Discarded, pointed pieces of metals… But how did he know that? He couldn't of known that- Another BANG, followed by the crackling once more. He braced himself against the wall as dirt was thrown up into the air nearby. His grip tightened around the cool metal. Finger ready on the trigger- On the what? His hands were practically nothing! How was he holding-

"…-p…!"

…Huh?

"…-ep…!"

Something was warm. Warm, and clammy… It was frantic, but still gentle, as it pawed at him.

"Pep!"

Through all the bangs and pops, Pep heard Peppino, calling for him. Even though his body was just a puddle, he found his eyes and forced them to the surface of his being. Peppino leaned over him, looking more stressed than usual. Sweat beading down his face and something slick and oily on his hands…? Oh… That was himself… Pep force an ear to form, as Peppino seemed to be saying something, but it was too muffled to understand, and too fast for him to lip-read.

"-uda told you! I shoulda stayed out here! Fuck! Please be okay-!"

Pep just barely managed to process his words, most of his focus on trying to keep his features formed. His eyelids closed hard over his eyes, blinking a few times as his brow came together. He could feel his fingers forming, trying to pull himself out of himself. A dull, thudding pain made itself known, as his brain reformed, along with most of his head. His eyes weren't quite back in their oversized sockets, but Pep did notice Peppino's shoulders relax a little. Teeth and tongue came next, clumsily gnashing together in an attempt to speak, but it only came out as garbled, incomprehensible sounds.

"Hey! Hey! It's alright! Uh, take your time… Getting back together?" Peppino spoke slower than earlier, but there was anxiety on the edge of his words. Pep managed a soft noise in acknowledgement, pushing the parts of his face into the correct places. His neck and shoulders started to form, but he quickly felt the exhaustion weighing on him. He would not be able to form all the way. But he could at least pull as much of his melted lower half in as possible, becoming more compact and less of a puddle.

Peppino watched his clone slowly come together, but not as the tall and lanky, almost-passable person he usually was. Instead, as his dough was peeled off his palms like glue, Pep was only a few inches tall. This was not the first time Peppino had seen Pep change his size, but this was different. His legs remained as a puddle, and he looked more like a very soggy stuffed animal than a person, with a much larger head and eyes. The tiny Pep squeaked softly, holding his hands out and looking up to him. Peppino understood, and gently scooped him up, carrying him and sitting down on the couch with him in his hands. He could clasp his hands together and Pep would be completely covered… It was much easier to hide when you're so small. The idea sounded nice to him. Comforting almost. Peppino was brought out of his thoughts by another small squeak coming from his hands. Pep was looking up at him again, pointing to his head and miming a spiral coming from it. Fuck. What did Hazel say this meant again…? Pep mimed the gesture again, and then pointed to the window. Outside…? Oh…

"The sounds outside…?"

Pep nodded, and then mimed once more.

"Yeah, they are loud… But they-a should have stopped for now…" Peppino gave a small sigh, looking to the window. At least he hoped they stopped.

Pep held up his index finger and waved it for a moment. Peppino knew this one.

"They were fireworks. People shoot them into the sky and they explode in colours and-a lights."

Pep's brow furrowed for a moment, before holding up the same finger and touching his chest with the side of his hand. Peppino also knew this one - Pep liked to use it a lot.

"They use them when it's a celebration. I don't-a really get it… And I don't really like it either…" Peppino sighed again, a longer one this time. He was tired.

Despite the many questions popping into his head, Pep could taste green beans. He was quite tired too, instead deciding to nestle against Peppino's chest. He found that rhythmical thump-thump-thumping that he learnt about recently was soothing to him. Even if the noises - the 'fireworks' - came back, he imagined he would feel alright where he was.

Peppino couldn't help an amused huff as the tiny clone snuggled closer to him. Guess he wouldn't be making dinner just yet, so he leaned back into the cushions, keeping a hand around Pep as he dozed off.

"Night, Pep."

[spine-buster]

peaceful easy feeling ft. b.boeser | three

A/N: Thanks again for your positive feedback on this mini-series!  Please keep those canon questions coming as you guys know I loooove answering them to help build the canon!  This one is a short one but it will be made up for by the last two chapters.

CONTENT WARNING: parents with disease/sickness (Parkinson’s); swearing; sex; alcohol use; lots of emotions.

                                                                 *     *     *     *     *

Brock and Grace were having fun.  Actual, genuine, real fun.  Whenever they were together, they were smiling and laughing and kissing and having a good time.  They’d go out to eat at Vancouver’s best restaurants.  They’d take walks in parks or along the seawall.  They’d get coffee at cute little cafés and munch on bespoke cookies or donuts that would make Brock complain about extra hours in the gym.  They’d invite Elias and Svea with them and it would be great, because they were great, and they’d all just be constantly laughing.  Grace and Svea got closer – much closer.  Elias and Brock were tearing it up for the Canucks.  Grace and Svea would go to bars for a glass of wine before going to games together.  They’d cheer and clap and sing along with all the songs being blasted throughout the arena.

Fun.  Life was fun.  

***

“How do I bite it?!” Brock was incredulous at the size of the cupcake Grace got him.  It was bigger than his jaw could open.  Elias and Svea were already ready with their damn phones to film him.  “I can’t…” he tried to bring it up to his mouth.

“Just put the whole thing in your mouth!” Grace exclaimed.

“That’s what she said,” Elias mumbled, only to garner a disapproving mother look from Brock and a slap on the arm from Svea.  “What!  Isn’t that the joke?!”

“Don’t be crass,” Svea chastised before focusing her attention back on Brock.  “Just bite the thing, Brock.  Just…just stuff it in there,” he pretended to do the motion herself.

“Again, that’s what she said.”

Grace hit Elias too this time.  

***

“You can get us reservations to Hawksworth?” Svea asked in shock.  

Grace nodded casually, like it was the easiest thing in the world to get a reservation at Vancouver’s best and most exclusive restaurant.  “The Gillespie’s own the Rosewood Hotel Georgia.”

“You do?”

Grace nodded again before sucking back on an oyster.  “When do you want to eat there?”

“Oh, I – I don’t know.  Can I get back to you?”

“Of course!  Just let me know.”

“Wow Grace,” Svea said.  “You really do have the world at your fingertips.  Vancouver especially.”

Grace shrugged her shoulders.  “It’s a blessing and a curse.  I can’t go anywhere without running into someone that knows my dad or knows who I am and thinks they know me.  It’s even worse when they knew my dad a long time ago and only ask about how he’s doing with his Parkinson’s now.  Most of the time they don’t even truly care.  And I’d trade it all in, every single penny, if it meant my dad never got Parkinson’s.”

Svea couldn’t imagine living that kind of life.  She didn’t know how Grace did it – or Brock, for that matter.  She would be a sobbing mess on the floor every single day.  “I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to be insensitive when I—”

“Oh God no.  No no no – you don’t need to apologize.  I just…” Grace paused, trying to collect her thoughts.  “I know how fortunate I am, believe me.  I just don’t think people know that – that I know I’m fortunate.  But Parkinson’s – any chronic illness – it really humbles you.  Most people don’t know what that’s like.  And like, thank God they don’t.  But they think they know.”

All Svea could do was nod her head and listen.

***

Whenever Brock sent a text that said ‘come over and watch a movie’ Grace knew what that really meant.  But instead of finding it lewd, she’d slather on some raspberry chapstick and be on her merry way to Brock’s apartment.

When they were done, and lying in bed together, with her head on his chest and her hair sprawled everywhere, that’s when the talking would begin.  “How’s your dad doing?”  “Are the new round of meds working?”  “Is he having more trouble getting up now?”  “What are the doctors saying?”  “How’s his memory?”  “How’s the swallowing?”  “Are the doctors recommending speech therapy?”  

“When I quit dance, my dad was so disappointed,” Grace revealed one night as Brock was running his hands through her hair.  “It was the only thing I was ever really, really good at.  I wasn’t the best in school.  I just didn’t get things the way other kids did.  And when I told him the reason, he made me promise I’d keep doing dance in some capacity.  I maybe wouldn’t do it super-competitively anymore with him driving me all around BC and flying me all over Canada and the US to attend competitions, but I’d still do it.  That’s why I teach at the Goh Ballet.  Like…I know I’m not the smartest girl in the world, but I like to think I have a big heart.  And I just hope that people see that.”

“I wear number six because it was my dad’s number,” Brock revealed too, one night when they were alone.  “I wanted…I wanted to make sure that if he wasn’t around, my career would still honour him in some way.  I want that to be my legacy…like, everything I do, I do for my dad.”

Grace nodded.  She completely understood.  “I don’t think I’ve ever met a person who knows and understands exactly what I’m going through,” she said.  “Do you think it was fate that brought us together at that meeting?”

Brock found himself nodding his head automatically.  “Of course,” he said softly.

***

“I’m sorry we couldn’t have you at the house for dinner, Brock, but our chef is on vacation,” Eliza Carmichael, Grace’s mom, smiled from across the table as she sipped on her glass of wine.  From beside her, her husband, Grace’s step-dad James kept perusing the menu, as did Grace’s two step-brothers, Jasper and Theo, who were seated at opposite heads of the table.  

“Oh that’s no problem at all,” he smiled politely, grabbing Grace’s hand underneath the table and squeezing it gently before putting it in his lap.  “I actually come here with the boys sometimes.  The food here is amazing.”

“It is, isn’t it?  James knows the head chef,” she said.  “Grace tells me you’re a hockey player.”

It was at that point that James put down his menu.  “Honey, he plays for the Vancouver Canucks.  We’ve been over this.”

Eliza rolled her eyes playfully before picking up her menu.  It was only at that point that Brock noticed the giant rock on her finger.  It was the size of his eyeball.  “Grace tells me you live in Shaughnessy,” he said, trying to make polite conversation.  “I hear that’s a beautiful neighbourhood.”

“Oh, it is.  Perfect place for the quiet life hockey player’s lead,” James joked.  Brock forced out a chuckle.

***

“I love this song!!!” Grace exclaimed as the DJ began to play some old school Rihanna.  She downed the rest of her drink and slapped the glass against the bar before grabbing Brock’s arm with one hand and Svea’s hand with the other, knowing that Svea would, on instinct, grab Elias’s arm and drag him to the dance floor too.

The club was completely unstuffy.  There were no girls dressed to the nines, no four-inch stiletto heels digging into Grace’s feet, no people showing up just to be seen in booths with bottle service.  It was completely unpretentious and that’s how Grace liked it.  Considering her lifestyle and her wealth, it was actually how she liked everything.  So when the DJ began playing pop songs, she couldn’t help but start dancing uncontrollably.  To his credit, Brock did too.  It was like he lost all his inhibitions and began moving his body in tune with the music.  Even Elias and Svea did, and Grace knew how…well, quiet they were.  This wasn’t their scene at all but they were having the time of their life dancing with each other, spinning each other around and moving to the beat of the music.  

For at least a night, Grace could forget.  She could forget how her parents used her to get back at one another during an awful divorce.  She could forget her mom re-married an equally as nice guy as her dad but became more pretentious as the years went on and the wealth accumulated.  She could forget that she made the decision to quit dancing professionally.  She could forget her dad had Parkinson’s.  For one night, everything was perfect.  Everything was fun.  Everything was how it should be.

***

“Fuuuuck, baby,” Brock groaned as he watched Grace climb on top of him, leaning forward so she could press his breasts up against his face.  He immediately took the opportunity to place wet, open mouth kisses all over her breasts, kissing down to her nipples before taking them in his mouth.  He could feel her grab his cock and lower herself onto it, sighing at the feeling of him filling her up.  “Feel good?”

“You always feel amazing,” she smiled, her hair falling around her face.  “That’s why I can’t stop fucking you.”

Brock chuckled, a cocky smile on his face as he reached up and brought Grace’s face down so he could kiss her and stick his tongue down her throat.  “Ride me, baby,” he mumbled against her lips.

Grace began rocking her hips back and forth, her body moving so expertly and so in tune with Brock’s.  Almost immediately, she began to moan, and Brock grabbed her hands and intertwined their fingers so she’d have something to brace against.  Brock was in a trance – as he usually was when Grace was riding.  He was completely and utterly transfixed by her in every sense of the word, and in every way; from the hair on her head to the red nail polish on her toes.  

“God, I fucking love you, Grace.”

The words had barely escape Brock’s mouth before he realized the magnitude of what he said, how he said it, and when he’d fucking said it.  God, he was such a fucking idiot!!!!!  During sex?!  Really?!  Way to live the cliché Brock Boeser!  Way to be a fucking idiot and—

“I fucking love you too, Brock,” he heard Grace say, a smile adorned on her face.  The both of them giggled, and couldn’t stop giggling for a while even though she was still riding him.  It was miraculous.  “Way to say it for the first time while I’m riding you,” she joked.

“I couldn’t help myself,” he said.  

“You’re lucky I love you, because that’s such an amateur move, Brock.”

[rin-itoshi]

first i love you | bokuto, kageyama, akaashi

content: fluff , fem!reader , extra fluff

note: this is my first tumblr post so uhhh, hopefully this goes well </3

BOKUTO KOUTAROU

“Bokuto, can we take a break?” She huffed as her jog progressively slowed into a walk. Placing her hands on her hips, she leaned back and howled with exhaustion, having overexerted herself trying to keep up with her boyfriend’s monster running pace. This was supposed to be a cute walk, not a fucking marathon against Usain Bolt.

Glancing over in Bokuto’s direction, [y/n] pursed her lips into a thin line when the two-tone haired male jogged over to her, doing a little dance around her in a taunting manner. “You’re very funny, Bo. Just wait until I call my parents to pick me up while you jog back home alone.”

“Don’t you dare!” He whined, stopping his jogging altogether to walk over to her, wrapping his arms around her sweaty body from behind with his chin rested on her shoulder. “Want me to buy us something to drink then? You look thirsty!”

“Yes, I’m dying over here.” The female huffed, leaning back into his chest, sighing ever so softly.

Placing a chaste kiss on her neck, he nodded and chuckled softly, “okay, don’t go anywhere. I love you. I’ll be right back!” Like a tornado, he turned on his heels and began jogging towards the store to buy two bottles of water to refresh themselves.

Plopping on the curb, she placed her forearms on her knees and sighed. “I love you.” The words finally processed in her mind, making her eyeballs fall out of her head at the sudden realization. She jumped up, glancing around back and forth to see if she was being pranked or something. “Did Bokuto...just...”

“Hey, [y/n]! They had some ice pops on sale, so I bought you some!” Bokuto exclaimed happily, running towards her with the ice pops and water in hand. He was running at a speed that almost made her think he’d run her over flat. Skidding to a stop, he grinned down at her and handed her an ice pop and a water. “Here you go, Princess!”

Standing on her tippy toes, she gently kissed his cheek, pulling away with a reddened face that he found strangely attractive. “Thank you, Koutarou. I love you.”

“[Y/N], YOU JUST SAID THE L WORD!”

KAGEYAMA TOBIO

“Make yourself at home.” Kageyama said as he awkwardly opened the door that led to his bedroom. The male shuffled sheepishly by the door, causally allowing his gaze to flicker around his room then at his girlfriend who slowly walked into his room, examining every aspect of it. He felt...strangely exposed. The place where he spent his daily life was now open to [y/n]’s eyes that scruntinized everything so deeply. It felt like she was seeing him.

“This is your bed?” She asked, pointing at the large bed with a blue blanket draped across it. It was neatly made, which made him think back to how he had been desperately cleaning before she got here.

“Yeah.”

Her feet stepped on a creaky floorboard as she took a light step towards the bed. He didn’t know why he felt so nervous. “Come here.”

Following her orders, he followed behind her until they were both standing beside his bed, staring at each other like a bunch of idiots.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she grinned as she threw her body onto the bed, yanking him down with her so that he was laying beside her. A soft chuckle escaped her lips at the surprised but flustered look on Kageyama’s face.

“What the hell are doing?” He scoffed, his tone matching the flustered countenance smeared across his face.

The girl snickered, reaching up to gently caress his cheek ever so softly. Her fingers danced along his skin, tenderly tracing its way to the crease between his eyebrows. “You’re so cute. That’s why I love you so much.”

They froze. [y/n] instantly slapped a hand over her mouth, knowing damn well she ruined the moment by dropping the L word out of nowhere. She could tell something was up when Kageyama’s eyebrows furrowed together even more, and he began to turn away from her.

“Hey, Kageyama, I didn’t mean to-“ her eyes widened when she saw the bright red hue that colored his entire face, ears and neck. For some reason, seeing it made a dark red blush spread across her cheeks. “K-Kage? You okay?”

“You said... I love you...” he trailed off in embarrassment. He couldn’t look her in the eyes. Before she could speak up once more, he cleared his throat and mumbled, “I love you... too, [y/n].”

“KAGEYAMA! WAAAAA!”

AKAASHI KEIJI

“[y/n], you guys have been dating for, like, eight months already? Wouldn’t you have said it atleast once by now?” Her classmate asked with a quirked brow, pestering [y/n] about her relationship with Akaashi. After hearing that neither of them had said those three words after almost nine months of being together, her classmates wouldn’t leave her alone. Apparently, they claim that if he doesn’t say it, he’s cheating.

[y/n] rolled her eyes before smiling thinly at the girls who surrounded her. Ever since she had gotten with him, the amount of annoying classmates who bothered her on the daily would grow.

All she could hope for was that Akaashi would show up soon and save her from this irritation. He had yet to show up one of these days.

“Seriously, [y/n], you’ll never last with Akaashi-san if you guys don’t say I love you.”

“What’re you girls talking about?” His voice was smooth and heavenly as he appeared behind [y/n], placing his hand on the side of her arm. The female recognized his touch and voice, simply leaning into his touch instinctively.

When the girls didn’t say anything, he nodded and bent over to bring his mouth to [y/n]’s ear. “Practice is gonna run longer than usual. Will you be okay on your own?”

Covering her ear that tickled, she nodded with a light chuckle. “Yeah, I can go home on my own today. Thanks for telling me.”

“Mhm.” He leaned in, placing a kiss on her cheek. “I’ll see you later. I love you. Be careful on your way back.”

Akaashi felt somewhat pleased with himself when he saw the envious looks that were directed at [y/n]. They could wish all they want but none of them would ever come close to being what [y/n] was to him. He wasn’t the type to show off, but he did like proving people wrong, especially when it involved his girlfriend.

Pfft. Him, cheating all because the L word wasnt said? No way in hell.

Holding her ear, she felt a shiver run down her spine once again. The words echoed in her mind as she tried to process them properly. She knew he did it on purpose, but it still managed to fluster her beyond repair.

Curse you, Akaashi! I’ll love you until the day you die for that!

dt: @anngelllla idk, i just didn’t know how to end this LMAO

[in-tua-deep]

i love the unviable au an unhealthy amount, could you elaborate a little more on how they stop the apocalypse?

HMM. Well. They wake up, and Team Apocalypse is a go. Five absolutely insists that they get Vanya on the team, and he absolutely wants Vanya to know he’s alive. Well, present at least.

(Ben - Ben retreated from the world, after he died. He didn’t want the others to know. He wanted them to grieve and let him go. Besides. With how the rest of the family treated Klaus after - after everything

after Five. After Five vanishing and the drugs and Ben’s death and Klaus’s spiral that no one seemed to care enough to pull him out of. Klaus was the only sibling that could see Ben, and Klaus needed him. Needed him in a way that none of the rest of the family did. 

Ben didn’t ask Klaus to tell them others about him. Klaus figured that no one would believe him anyway.)

Klaus in hemming and hawing but Five isn’t exactly Ben, is he? He can interact with the world, in his own limited way. He can write. He could do this with or without Klaus.

But no one else needs to know, probably.

(Five doesn’t think much about how Team Apocalypse is going to be comprised of mostly people who he didn’t find dead on the ground. The only one he saw dead is Klaus, and isn’t that funny? To Klaus, a solid half of the team is dead.

To Five, only Klaus is.)

So Klaus and Ben and Five get up in the morning, and Five says that they Have To Find Vanya. Except Vanya’s not in the house, she’s gone back to her own apartment because she has stuff to do and a life to live.

(Somewhere, the Commission is getting antsy. Klaus heads towards Vanya’s apartment, and that’s not supposed to happen. Vanya is supposed to be isolated. Something is changing the timeline, and they aren’t sure what.

So they send some investigators. Their best. Hazel and Cha-Cha are deployed.)

So they go to the apartment. Klaus awkwardly knocks on the door and it swings open and there’s Vanya blinking at him in the way she always does. 

“Vanya!” Klaus cheers, and leans forward to wrap her in a hug, because he is a very touchy-feely person and he had to watch as Five and Ben got all the hugs last night. 

“Klaus?” Vanya says, sounding confused, but she lets her brother in. She watches him with wary eyes, and Klaus feels his heart break a tiny bit but - he’s known to his siblings, as a thief and a magpie. 

“Do you want... some tea?” Vanya asks awkwardly, shuffling towards her kitchen, “I have uh. I have a lesson soon, but I mean, uh...”

That’s about the time when Five loses patience from where he’s been telling Klaus to Say Something and starts picking up couch cushions and throwing them. 

“Uh.” Klaus says, staring, from Vanya’s point of view, into space. In actuality he’s looking at Five who is behaving like an absolute gremlin.

(Klaus is reminded, all over again, of how young his brother looks. Is. How old Five was when he died.)

“Do you want to explain what’s going on, Klaus?” Vanya asks tightly.

“Five is really impatient.” Klaus blurts out, and then covers his mouth because oops.

“Five?” Vanya says loudly, and Five rattles a cabinet in confirmation.

“Uh.” Klaus looks at Ben. Ben shrugs, because lets be honest they weren’t able to control Five when they were younger either, they have no chance now.

“Wait,” Vanya says, pale as milk, “So yesterday, in the courtyard...”

“Yup!” Klaus says cheerfully, putting on his best grin, “Aw, you know, a broken calendar is right twice a year and all that!”

“That’s not the saying.” Five informs him, flopping dramatically onto the couch.

“It was almost the saying.” Ben says sympathetically.

Klaus valiantly ignores them. 

“Five is... here?” Vanya asks, her eyes scanning the apartment.

“On the couch, like he owns the place the little shit.” Klaus tells her.

Vanya stares at the seemingly empty couch for a moment, and after a few beats of silence, she just says “I’m going to go ahead and cancel that lesson.”

(Somewhere, somewhen, the Commission’s hackles all go up in alarm as Harold Jenkins frowns down at his phone and wonders if he should try his luck and go to the apartment anyway.)

Later, when Ben has Five distracted trying to teach him to pick something up, Klaus talks quietly to Vanya.

“Van, he’s - he’s so little.” Klaus tells her, voice a little too thick, “He looks - he’s exactly the same as when he left. He’s so tiny, and he’s still in that fucking uniform. He’s so tiny and I can’t stand it.”

And Vanya wraps her arms around her brother. She and Klaus have never been close, not even when they were little, but they’re both outsiders. They’re both rejects. And there’s a certain sort of kinship in that.

“I wish I could see him, too. See them, too.” She whispers, because telling her about Five also means telling her about Ben.

And Klaus could say a million things to that. Could snarl and tell her to be careful what she wished for, because alongside Ben and Five came a hundred million nightmares that rattle around Klaus’s head every time he’s too sober to ignore them. 

But he looks over as Five slaps at Ben’s shoulder to get his attention and then guide his hands over to the apple they have settled in between them as their test subject. 

And then he looks at Vanya, and he says - “Yeah, me too.”

And then there’s a knock on the door.

“Shit.” Vanya says, swearing. “I left a message but - it’s probably my student. Just. Lay on the couch and look miserable or something.”

Klaus is very good at acting, sort of. So he immediately drapes himself across the couch and groans dramatically, adding in a cough for good measure. 

Vanya rolls her eyes, and opens the door to apologize to whatever child was supposed to have a lesson and - 

Oh. Not a child. An adult. She blinks, “Uh, hi. Can I help you?”

“Hi!” The man greets, smiling at her. Not too many people smile at her like that. “I’m here for the lesson? I know, I know. I’m a bit older than your usual clientele - ”

Klaus coughs loudly and Vanya winces, “I’m sorry.” She says, cutting the man off, “I tried to leave a message - I’ve had an emergency come up and I’m not able to do lessons today.”

“Oh, but - ” The man starts, and Vanya suddenly feels someone push on the door as if to close it. She manages to catch it, but considering there’s no one there, well.

“I’m very sorry.” She says firmly, using one hand to bat through the air behind the door to shoo who she assumes is Five away. “If you send me your availability, I’d be happy to reschedule.”

“That would be really great.” The man says, nodding. “Do you think you’d be free tomorrow? It’s just - I’d really like to get started, you know?”

The door rattles again and Vanya winces, “I’m not sure. If it’s urgent I can, uh, send you the information for another teacher. I really am sorry about this.”

“I’ll call later then.” The man says, “Sorry for bothering you.”

“Not a problem.” Vanya says automatically, “Have a good day.” 

And then she closes the door, and turns around to frown at Klaus, “Tell Five to quit, I had that handled.”

“You know, I only have to translate his responses to you.” Klaus points out, sitting up and swiping a hand across the back of his mouth, “Like, he has ears.”

“Five, I had that handled. You didn’t need to be pushing on the door.” Vanya says to the room at large, her hands on her hips. 

“Five!” Klaus says loudly, sounding very scandalized, “Why! We oughtta wash your mouth out with soap!”

Vanya gives him a critical look, “I’m not sure whether you’re saying that to get him into trouble or if he’s actually swearing. Either way, we should probably talk.”

“Five says to clear your schedule for the week.” Klaus says scooting over on the couch and giving it an inviting pat, “You’re officially recruited for team apocalypse.”

“Me?” Vanya asks, completely confused. And why shouldn’t she be? None of her siblings have willingly recruited her for anything before. Forget being the last kid picked for team sports, Vanya wasn’t even on the list. 

Klaus’s eyes soften, because even if Vanya wasn’t on the list, Klaus was still the last picked kid. “Five insists. Loudly.”

And Vanya smiles. It’s wobbly, but it’s there, because she’s been leaving out peanut butter and marshmallow sandwiches and leaving the lights on since she was a kid, grieving for the one sibling who was on her side. And here he is. Refusing to ignore her. Picking her for the team. 

Of course the apocalypse can’t happen the same way, because Vanya isn’t isolated. She’s part of Team Apocalypse.

Instead of nagging at her about Leonard, Allison sighs and tells say that she loves Klaus as well but... he’s Klaus. He’s probably going to rob her the moment her back is turned and all that. He’s still their brother, and it’s nice that Vanya is hanging out with him but...

And Vanya bristles, because yeah Klaus is the family fuck up but he’s their brother. She’s the family wallflower, the odd man out, the freak. So she and Allison still fight, and Allison still insists that she’s just looking out for Vanya and Vanya insists that she’s never needed Allison to look out her before now -

An important thing of note.

Five doesn’t have the eyeball.

Five knows what it looks like, he probably had it in his apocalypse nest and poked at it when he was stuck on an equation. He knows that color it is. He probably memorized its serial number. He doesn’t have the physical eye.

Klaus is still chaotic as fuck, but Vanya adds a certain sense of... level headedness to the team. And despite everything, Klaus is actually fairly efficient... when he wants to be. 

Vanya has the exhausted “I don’t want to be here any more than you do” look to her that inspires some measure of sympathy from overworked desk ladies so they probably get the info about the eye not existing yet without all the... extra drama.

Now. Hazel and Cha-Cha aren’t hunting someone down. They’re investigating. So they don’t burst in gun blazing, they’re basically stalking Vanya in an effort to figure out both What Changed and how to isolate her.

I know what you’re thinking. But what about Griddys? Do the squad not know about the commission agents trailing them?

Well, after the whole eye escapade, Klaus is hungry. He fondly recalls food an ex used to make with Vanya and she smiles and marvels at how different their lives are. And then, because she’s suddenly a little nostalgic, she offers to take him to the one restaurant they went to as kids.

Griddys.

So they go, and Ben and Five are there are well, and Klaus probably insists on getting them waffles as well (“it’s lunch time Klaus” “waffle time is ALL the time Vanya”) so they’re sitting there eating

and of course Cha-Cha and Hazel are stalking them. And why be careful and hide their faces. The Hargreeves don’t know them. They can just blend in as two ordinary people, eating lunch.

Except there’s the one little ghost who can. Five spots them, and immediately freaks out because those are ASSASSINS and he never did figure out what role Vanya played and What If They’re There To Kill Her

So he frantically informs Klaus, and Klaus whispers to Vanya, and Five tells them they need to get the hell out of dodge. ESPECIALLY Vanya. 

And this is Vanya’s life now, so she sneakily tucks money under her plate (because she isn’t dining and dashing Klaus, jesus) and smiles at Klaus and goes to the backroom, where she shimmies out the window.

Klaus stuffs the remainder of his waffle in his mouth and grimaces at his hands and goes to the bathroom as well, except he diverts and goes out the back entrance where he meets Vanya in the alley and they both scarper. 

“I can totally talk you through stealing a car.” Five says eagerly, “I saw like, loads of commission agents hotwire a care. I totally know what I’m doing.”

“Fucking sweet.” Klaus says, nodding. “Pick out a ride then, little man.”

“Absolutely not.” Vanya says, having gleaned enough from Klaus’s words to understand, “We are not stealing a car, jesus. If we need a ride, I can always... I don’t know. Call a cab.”

“The little dude has a point.” Klaus says, “Calling a cab isn’t exactly uh, you know. Conducive to a quick getaway.”

Vanya frowns.

“We could steal Diego’s car.” Ben offers, because secretly Ben is also very chaotic.

“Diego’s car.” Klaus agrees with wonder.

“We’re going to get stabbed, aren’t we.” Vanya sighs, putting her face in her hands. It’s not a question.

(And meanwhile in the diner, Cha-Cha realizes that the targets are gone and checks outside, and Hazel gets to chat with the lovely owner. Agnes. What a lovely name, huh?)

Honestly the whole au sort of ends up being like. The Klaus and Vanya show against the siblings while Five and Ben work together in the background and Five causes, you know, absolute chaos. And also gets lots of hugs. Ben and Five get lots of hugs in this au. 

Klaus still gets kidnapped. Not because they want to get Five, but because they want to isolate Vanya. Well, not just that. They’d just kill him if that was it. They also want to know - what changed. What made Klaus seek Vanya out. What changed the timeline.

And Five can move things. Five can write on things. So he sees Klaus get kidnapped and follows him, figured out where he is, tells Ben to look after Klaus, and goes back to Vanya. He grabs a sharpie, and scrawls the address on the closest available surface, and hey if Vanya just happens to be fighting with Diego about the car...

“What the FUCK.” Diego demands.

“Fuck.” Vanya says, looking at the address. “Fuck. Okay. Okay, Diego, are you in?”

“In what?” Diego demands, scrubbing a finger over the sharpie that has popped up on the windows of his fucking car.

“Rescuing Klaus.” Vanya says, looking braver than she feels.

“Klaus can deal with his own shit.” Diego growls.

“Okay.” Vanya says, and of course she’s alone, she’s always been alone in this fucking family -

“Where are you going.” Diego asks, jogging up to her, “I don’t know what the fuck he’s gotten himself into, but you’re going to get yourself killed.”

“Then I guess I’ll get to see Klaus either way.” Vanya bites out, “And the family will have rid itself of another problem, huh? Win win all around.”

Diego swipes a hand over his face and swears, “Fuck just, fuck. Okay. Okay, fine. We’ll go drag Klaus’s ass out of the fire. And then you are going to explain exactly what the fuck happened to my car.”

“Deal.” Vanya says, already in the passenger seat and buckling in with determination. 

Safety first, bitch.

So they go to the hotel. They bust in. They manage to get away. And Klaus manages to get his hands on the briefcase.

“Klaus, wait - no!” Five screams, and Klaus opens the suitcase and vanishes.

(But Five was touching Klaus, was trying to grab his arm to pull him away, terrified and incapable of helping because he’s intangible. Five gets to go with on this side trip to Vietnam.)

And then a light flashes, and there’s Klaus, and Five, and - some random dude.

“I thought you were joking.” Dave hollers, staggering backwards and staring at the suitcase like it’s going to jump up and bite him.

(Five is impatient, and irritable, and wants to get home to take care of things and stop the end of the world. Klaus falls head over heels for a soldier, but in the past few days... he’s gotten awfully fond of Vanya. He wants to help her.

By our powers combined, we have a Klaus who is motivated to go home, but also motivated to convince Dave to come with. We end up with... alive Dave.)

(Wow this is one of the few aus I have with alive Dave. Go me.)

“Vanya, Diego, Ben.” Klaus says, beaming, “Meet my boyfriend, Dave!”

“Klaus, I say this with the utmost sincerity.” Vanya deadpans. “But what the fuck.”

“Ben?” Diego demands.

Vanya and Klaus turn to Diego with contemplative looks.

“Oh yeah, forgot about that.” Vanya says.

“In my defense I’ve been gone for like, months.” Klaus says. And then pauses meaningfully. “Wait a second, does that mean - ”

A pebble flies and hits Klaus in the face. This does not stop him.

“I’m the oldest sibling!” Klaus yells, preening like a peacock, “Behold, infants! It is I, your eldest brother!”

“Absolutely not.” Diego growls, as Klaus points at thin air. 

“Am so. Physically, I am older than everyone else. Yeah, it’s on technicality. Suck it, Casper.”

“Klaus, stop messing with Five.” Vanya sighs, sounding like this is something she has said before. “You know he can probably kill you.”

“Five?” Diego squawks.

“Is anyone going to tell me what’s going on?” Dave asks, already looking like he’s accepted his fate and life might as well be this weird. 

“The world is ending in five days. Welcome to team apocalypse.” Vanya tells him sympathetically.

“The world is what.” Diego hollers.

“Oh yeah.” Klaus muses, “Forgot to mention that as well.” 

“What is going on!” Diego howls.

“Don’t we all want to know.” Klaus flutters in sympathy.

After that, they decide to convene at Vanya’s apartment and go over what they know, and what they’ve learned.

Team apocalypse gains two (2) members! Welcome to the team, Diego and Dave. 

(Diego didn’t complain to Patch about a missing sibling because he doesn’t know Five is around. Patch doesn’t find a ransom note, because Hazel and Cha-Cha didn’t leave one. Patch doesn’t die, and Diego has no reason to go tearing off in grief and anger and vengeance.)

And that’s more on team apocalypse trying to stop the apocalypse lmao

[redhawtriot]

Could I possibly have a scenario with a fem s/o who is constantly high but yet Bakugou can’t help but fall in love :) thanks in advance!

Anonymous- “Can I pls get first date with bakugo and reader goes to pay for her half and bakugo shits her down with some tsundere ass response like “I just know if you pay for this you’re gonna complain you dont have money to buy other shit.”

Tip Jar ☕- Not expected but always appreciated💞

I mashed these two request together!

Enjoy the fluff while it last cuz it’s finna get ANGSTY in this bitch!

HnM💕

How Stop liking a Stoner (Bakugou x Reader)

Bakugou absolutely hated you. Of course he didn’t get along with most people that he met, but the way that he despised you felt different  from others somehow. 

It all began the day that the two of you met. You had walked into class with a very distinct odor. You considered yourself to be a professional at hiding your more delinquent lifestyle; however, masked away under the layers of fruity and sweet perfumes that you had coated yourself in, was a slight, but very recognizable, dank and smokey smell.

You also had certain mannerisms that could alert even the purest of minds to your…ahem… extra-curricular actives.

Now, you weren’t a complete noob. You could handle the high well enough that you weren’t overly quiet, or loud, but you did often find yourself in situations that could expose your habits: such as when Mina asked you to feel how soft a furry piece of her hero costume was, and you ended up petting it for a few uncomfortable minutes before someone called you out, snapping you out of your trance.

Bakugou, being the ever perceptive grump that he was, noticed any of these sorts of slip ups and drew up the conclusion that you were indeed a stoner.   

But that wasn’t even what he could bring himself to hate about you. No, it was the way that you made him feel whenever you were around that made him wholy despise you. 

When you stupidly giggled at every slight occurrence, he could only replay the sound in his head over and over. Disgusting. When you absentmindedly swayed your body in a slight dance during lectures he couldn’t help but to watch you with a terrifyingly light feeling in his chest. Fucking gross. Even as you sat chomping on the insane mountain of snacks that you brought to class, he couldn’t fight the urge to steal glances at the little smile that was perpetually plastered onto your face. Absolutely adorable. WAIT? WHAT THE FUCK?! 

God, he couldn’t stand your ass.

The furious blond found himself sitting at his desk, glaring at his laptop. He sat in thought for a moment before violently popping his knuckles and leaning into the search engine in front of him, allowing his fingers get to work.

Is marijuana bad for you? 

Bakugou scrolled along the first page and found many differing views on the subject, but most scientific articles and studies mostly said the same things: “maybe”, “it depends”, and “we don’t know.” He groaned in frustration, before trying another phrasing of his question,

Can smoking have long term effects? 

The teen was surprised by the overwhelming amount data that appeared, before realizing that they were mostly referencing to cigarettes and cigars. He growled and angrily smashed his fingers against his keyboard to correct his question.

Can smoking weed have long term effects?

As he eyeballed his screen he was once again disappointed by very vague and unclear answers. He slammed a fist onto his laptop in frustration. How the hell could you put that shit into your body without knowing what it would do to you later?! 

Wait. A better, more pressing question shoved itself into his mind.

WHY THE HELL DID HE CARE SO DAMN MUCH ABOUT WHAT YOU WERE DOING?!

Bakugou groaned in frustration and roughly snatched a fist full of his hair, as if he were trying to rip you clean out of his mind. He knew for a fact that mind-altering wasn’t your damn quirk. So why the hell does he give a fuck about you? You weren’t even around him, yet he found himself having his thoughts wander to your well being. It pissed him off. 

Bakugou once more smacked his fingers against his keyboard as he typed one final question,

How to stop liking someone?

As soon as he saw the words flash across his screen, it was like the weight of the entire situation finally cracked something inside of him. Shit. He did like you. The boy suddenly slammed his laptop shut and threw it away from him like it had suddenly disgusted him.

He then decided that he was going to pretend like the last hour of his life just didn’t happen. Yeah he was gonna “control, alt, delete” the fuck out of every thought he just had. 

God dammit, he didn’t have time to dwell on crushes if he was going to be the number one hero! That stupid, delinquent girl wasn’t going to get any more of his time or thoughts!!

But.

It seemed like fate had something else planned as you hurriedly walked to your classroom, 1-A, the next morning. You absolutely couldn’t risk being late today. You hadn’t had enough time to grab your eye drops that morning and Aizawa would certainly notice your altered state if attention was drawn to you. 

The hallway ahead of you moved in choppy frames before you finally whipped a turn to enter the door of your classroom. As soon as you turned into the class, you were slapped with a warm sturdy object, sending you flying back onto your butt.

Bakugou immediately thrashed his body around to confront whatever idiot just knocked into him, “HEY WATCH WHERE YOU’RE…” he trailed off as he recognized your figure. Your lunch box that you had been holding had spilled its contents all over you, but the dirty sight of you was somehow still enough to make his heart throb, “…going.” he finally finished.

“Sorry, Bakugou,” you apologized as you rubbed the side your your head, trying to stabilize your whirling mind, “Oh, man! My food!” you sadly exclaimed as you recognized the pathetic mess of snacks and small meals you had prepped for your day all over the floor and yourself.

The sight of your frown in contrast to your usual happiness gave Bakugou’s chest a twinge of pain. He growled at the emotion as he glared at you on the ground, “Well, maybe you should get your head out of the damn clouds and watch where you are going!” he yelled before stiffly turning on his heel and heading to his seat. 

You blinked in surprise at his retreating figure. Well, you hadn’t exactly expected him to apologize or help you or anything, but you also didn’t expect to see the blush that creeped across his face before he stormed off. 

Huh.

You cleaned yourself up easily enough. Honestly, the situation and Bakugou’s subsequent outburst had helped you make it through the day without getting suspended, drug tested or expelled. By the time you cleaned yourself up and made it back to the classroom, your eyes had pretty much returned to their normal state. 

Today might not be so bad after all!

GrrrrRRRrrRRrrr, your stomach screeched, causing almost all of your classmates to whip their heads toward you in surprise. 

Shit…

You hurriedly grabbed your stomach with a nervous laugh, trying to console the despairing little monster; however, you still spent the rest of the school day with your tummy loudly yelling at you. Watching everyone eat during lunch was absolute torture as your stomach cursed at you for being so damn clumsy. You honestly could have died. 

Death by munchies.

However, it seems as if the cannabis lords took pity on you that day and you actually made it through your last class. You were the first one out of their desk as you rushed out of the classroom and down the hall— the thought of food on your mind, but suddenly you felt a heavy hand snatch your wrist,

“Hey, idiot!” When you looked back your eyebrows shot straight up at the sight of Bakugou’s hardened expression, “Let’s go grab some food.”

Um… hWhat? The suggestion completely threw you off balance. You shook your head as if the vibrations that just came in through your ear needed some readjusting,  “Like… together?” you tilted your head in shock. You’ve never seen Bakugou willingly hang with anyone else besides Kirishima, let alone initiate an event with them!

Bakugou fumed at your questioning appearance, “Are you really that stupid!? I could hear your stomach growling from across the classroom!!”

You giggled at yourself in embarrassment, not quite sure of what else you could do in the moment, “…Why do you care?” you laughed.

Your laughed sent a searing wave of heat to his face. You’d… never directed this display of happiness toward him before, and for some reason it made him feel extremely hot,

“I don’t!” he yelled as he tried to fight the warmth away, “I just knocked your food down earlier and… I don’t want to owe you anything,” he suddenly noticed that he was still clinging to your hand. The heat in his face doubled as he snatched his hand away from yours, “So where do you wanna go? I am not taking no for an answer,” he began as he walked away from U.A.’s campus with a rigid nod for you to follow him. 

You paused for a moment. Is this real? 

A large smile began spreading itself across your face– the cannabis lords once gain raining mercy down upon you, “Maybe a… Mcdonalds!” you happily suggested as you skipped into a light jog ran to catch up with him.

“Mc.. donalds?” Bakugou threw you an expression that resided in an area between horrified and disgusted for a moment before correcting himself back into his comfortable anger, looking at the ground as the two of you walked.

“Yeah, like the clown place!” you added. Bakugou growled at your answer. He wasn’t a fucking idiot he knew what a damn McDonald’s was. You laughed at his response as you continued, “You’re not scared of clowns are you, tough guy?” you teased.

“Fuck you,” he simply huffed, refusing to even entertain your accusations. 

“Wow, on the first date?” you boldly retorted with a stifled laugh, causing him to falter in his steps for a moment. He snapped himself out of whatever stupid emotion he felt at your words, 

“IT’S NOT A DAMN DATE!” he roared, causing you to simply shrug, a pleased smile on your face as you continued to walk without him. 

“Where are you going, you idiot?! There is a Mcdonald’s right there!” he angrily gestured to the golden arches the other direction of where you were headed. 

“I like the one by my house better,” you explained, “It had a gas station attached to it, so I can grab some snacks on the way out.”

….

G-gas Station McDonald’s….? Bakugou could have thrown up right then and there. 

“DISGUSTING!” the blond screeched, “I am not walking all the way over there just to walk back to the dorm! Are you an idiot?!”

Alright. Who the fuck did this to him? Made him crush on a complete loser?! Cupid? God?! He was gonna fight whoever the fuck it was! 

“Fineeee,” you laughed and the two of you walked over to the inferior McDonalds. Bakugous eyes widened in repulsion as you ordered both a Big-Mac meal and a twenty piece chicken nugget with a dozen cookies.

As soon as you happily reached out to give the cashier your money, he swatted your hand away and shoved his own cash at the associates face, “No, take mine.” he harshly ordered. The employee shakily agreed and accepted his money. 

You threw him a confused glance but before you could even open your mouth to question him, he spoke up, “I just know that if you pay for this, you’re gonna complain that you don’t have money to buy other shit,” he explained, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks. 

You noticed this red tint, but decided to tease him instead of pointing it out, “Yeah, like gas,” you nodded with a sly smile. 

“Gas? You’re fifteen and don’t have a damn car, you idiot,” He argued, but the boy immediately paused as soon as he saw the suggestive expression that you held on your face. Things finally clicked as soon as you wiggled your eyebrows towards him. Gas… you meant weed. He angrily snatched the two soda cups that the cashier was extending out as he loudly yelled at you,  “FUCK! YOU MAKE IT SO DAMN HARD TO BE NICE TO YOU, YOU KNOW THAT?!” He screamed as you cracked up at his uncharacteristically slow uptake.

The two of you had decided to eat at a booth near a window. You found yourself being really surprised at the quality of this McDonald’s chairs. Bakugou loudly chastised you for gawking at the chairs like some freak before the two of you promptly began eating your food. 

It was mostly quiet between the two of you as the textures of the meal performed on your sensitive tongue until Bakugou finally spoke up, “Why do you put that nasty shit into your body?”

“Uh,” Your eyes danced away for a split second, “McDonalds?” your faced crinkled in confusion.

“No, you dumbass!” Bakugou fought the urge to facepalm, “marijuana!” he angrily corrected.

Oh… you felt yourself deflate for a moment, as the question absorbed into your mind. You suddenly let out a giggle, “I don’t know. It makes me feel good, I guess.” Bakugou had to fight another blush at the sight of you adorably shrugging your shoulders. 

“That’s a stupid answer. You can’t feel good on your own?”

You tilted your head as you thought about it for a moment. Of course, you could feel good on your own. Just take a look at you! You weren’t even very high anymore, yet you were still on cloud nine right now for some reason, “Well… I feel good right now with you.”

That did it. His adrenaline flared up in an instant. Bakugou couldn’t even come up with fluid words as a series of death threats and curses instinctively flooded to the forefront of his mind,  “S-shut up.”

You giggled at his loss for words before letting the conversation die again. The two of you once again found yourselves in silence as you sat with a smile on your face.

This time, it was you who broke the silence, “Thank you, for hanging out with me today. I really appreciate it.”

“Whatever, loser. Don’t get used to it,” he huffed, angrily stuffing a few fries into his mouth. 

“So…. there’s not a second date ahead?”

“I didn’t say that,” he grumbled, snatching his glare away from you and out of the restaurant window. 

So it was a date. A huge smile once again spread across your face for the millionth time that evening. You happily plopped another fry into your mouth at the sight of him blushing once more. 

[katybirdy95]

The Spanish Princess (Season 2, Ep 1): My Thoughts.

Hello Everyone!

I guess it’s that time of year were we all collectively come together to roast another PG production. I know that a few others have already written their thoughts, but I have stayed away from them for the moment, until I have written my own opinions just so my perspective of the episode is more original.

I will try and write some things I liked and obviously things I did not and would love to hear everyone else’s opinions as well.

Warning: SPOILERS

Right! Here we go!

1) We start the episode off in 1511 - three years after the final of season 1. I guess they didn’t want to show Henry and Katherine’s wedding night (I can’t quite remember if it was shown in season 1), so we don’t see Henry’s reaction to Katherine not being a virgin. Although, it seems to me that throughout the episode, it’s hinted that Henry already knows that Katherine consummated her marriage to Arthur, but out of love for her, he’s keeping his mouth shut.

2) I think Mary Tudor is the first character in this universe that actually resembles her younger self. I feel like EF just casts any child actress and then the adult version looks vastly different.

3) I like that they have shown Mary to be an intelligent woman with a good knowledge for languages.

4) The costumes have been upgraded and some are actually really pretty, but they are a few decades too early - more Elizabethan and Katherine is sporting some Lucrezia Borgia inspired hair.

5) When Ursula Pole states that Charles V has very expensive clothes, I nearly laughed. His clothes are very plain in comparison to what Mary Tudor or some of the background extras are wearing.

6) I do like that the women in this season seem a lot more friendlier with each other, instead of seeing each other as enemies and trying to rip each other apart - I hope this continues.

7) King James has entered the building and poor Margaret looks like she’s about to jump out a window. Ray Stevenson’s accent is actually quite good and I don’t think I cringed once and being Glaswegian that’s good coming from me, but why did they make him so old. Although, I will say that the term “hen” is more what a father would say to his daughter, but given the age difference, I suppose it makes sense.

8) They are really trying to ham up that Scotland is full of uncouth barbarians, almost like the producers don’t know that Scotland is filled with varies accents, we don’t all have that gruff harshness to our voices and every city has its own accent.

9) Why would you bring a newborn to a jousting tournament, the noise alone would distress the poor thing and why is the baby the size of a six month old?

10) Oh God! Edward Stafford just tore his eyeball off, I don’t believe the real Buckingham lost an eye, I know that Sir Francis Bryan lost an eye, but not Buckingham, but I might be wrong.

11) I wish I was as calm as Buckingham when I burnt the skin of my left hand (don’t worry It healed), I mean this guy pulls his eyeball out and still has time to flirt with Katherine.

12) I guess the producers are of the opinion that eye patches are the fashion in Tudor England, although I would have been partial to a glass eye or a jeweled one.

13) Well, I guess my redheads are gone. Henry and Margaret are sporting their actors natural hair colours and Katherine’s seems to be a lot darker this season too. Why go to the trouble of dyeing their hair in the first season if they weren’t going to bother their arses for the second season and that’s directed towards the hair department and whoever made the decision to make Henry a brunette than the actors themselves.

14) Looks like not only was Isabella of Castile abusive towards Joanna, but Ferdinand of Aragon was abusive to Catherine. Can’t we just have loving, supportive parents like Jacquetta from TWQ.

15) The abuse is just lazy story telling because it has just now occurred, yet in season one, Catherine was shocked that Joanna had been abused, surely she would have been more sympathetic to Joanna given their shared experience, but they probably didn’t know they were getting a second season to develop that.

16) Katherine is breastfeeding her own baby, but I don’t know if there is a source that said she actually did this. I have heard that Anne Boleyn thought to feed Elizabeth and was told not to and after that decided it was for the best so that she could produce a new baby quicker. I wonder if we will see Elizabeth in this and see the contrast between Katherine and Anne as mothers and given how awkward the cast has been about Anne Boleyn, I’m guessing she won’t be shown in a good light, but who knows.

17) I do like that they are showing Thomas Boleyn as an adviser and friend to the king, usually Thomas only appears when Anne Boleyn is about to be introduced, but in reality Thomas was actually good friends with Henry and Henry trusted Thomas a great deal before Anne came onto the scene.

18) I actually liked the Scots scene when they are slagging off the English, it’s pretty accurate to how even Scots today feel haha. Although, I don’t like that they have reduced Margaret to a governess, but Georgie seems to have some chemistry with Ray Stevenson, but I doubt Margaret would have slapped James IV in front of his courtiers. 

19) Why do productions always use the tool of having one part of the couple refuse to have sex with the other to show that they’re struggling, like most couples don’t have sex every night and it’s a sign of a healthy relationship that if one person wants sex and the other doesn’t - for numerous reasons - then the one that doesn’t, shouldn’t have to feel guilty for saying “not tonight love”.

20) I did think that Bessie Blount was going to appear from the shadows when Katherine left the room though.

21) Why would you put a newborn on a cold, dirty chapel floor. I mean what do you expect to happen.

Okay, I will say that I actually enjoyed this episode for what it was there was some good things and some not so good, but still it has potential. There seems to be more extras as well, instead of like eight to a room like the last productions have been and I liked that the actors had more than one costume change. Also, the couples are all in matching outfits, will we see the same happen for Henry and Anne when she comes on the scene.

The strongest actors in this episode would have to be Stephanie Levi John, Ray Stevenson (mainly for the accent) and Sai Bennett. I think that’s it, the other actors were good like Ruairi and Georgie, but didn’t stand out as much to me yet.

Sorry it’s not as funny, I was uninspired.

[frozensnowwitch]

Readably Hip Spy Hat

 @showurselfelsa

 “Are you sure that the cake will be safe in the back of the wagon, Kristoff? It’s so far to go,” Anna said worriedly.

“Yes, Dear,” Kristoff said.

“And I’ll be guarding it!” Olaf exclaimed. He laughed and sat in the back of the sled next to the cake. The cake itself was light blue in color, and it was decorated with alternating diamonds and chocolate on the inside. On top was a molded sculpture of their small family, with Anna and Elsa holding hands. Anna wrung her hands with worry when Gale whirled around her and made a soft chittering noise.

“Hi, Gale,” Anna said. “Are you ready for Elsa’s birthday?” The Wind Spirit swirled up and down, lifting Anna’s hair and fluttering her traveling gown. Anna took two folded pieces of paper out of her travel bag, and held them up. “Do you mind giving this to Ryder or Honeymaren, and this one to Yelana?” Gale chirped and picked up the letters from Anna and whipped it away.

Gale flipped through Arendelle and skimmed over the fjord. The Wind Spirit chittered to herself happily, and she twirled the letters back and forth with her collection of leaves. She flipped them and flapped the wings Anna had folded onto them. Gale swirled a few snowflakes among her leaves and then let them drop to the ground as she flew.

The Wind Spirit saw the Enchanted Forest coming into view and headed toward the smoke from the Northuldran campsite. Gale caressed the smoke from one of the fires and swirled the heat rising from the fire for a moment before flipping back with her leaves and the letters toward the ground. She chittered as she looked for Honeymaren or Ryder. Finally spying Ryder yawning as he came out from a lavvu, she spun and drove the letter into his hat.

“Whoa!” Ryder cried as he grabbed his hat to keep it from flying off. He glanced around in surprise and saw the Wind Spirit playfully twirling away. “What was that?” he asked himself. Then, he realized the spirit had left something in his hat. Reaching into the hat, Ryder grabbed the letter and looked at it. The folded piece of paper had a smudge of smoke on it and a few extra folds, but had weathered its flight well. He opened the letter and he began reading. “It’s Elsa’s birthday?” he said to himself.

“Whatcha reading, Bro?” Honeymaren came up behind him and he nearly jumped into one of the campfires in his surprise. Knowing that Elsa would soon be behind his sister, Ryder grabbed Maren and pulled her into his lavvu. “Whoa! What are you doing?”

“Sis, it’s Elsa’s birthday,” Ryder said and he held the letter up for her to see. Maren broke into a huge grin and started to turn to go back into the campground. Ryder stopped her. “Maren, no! This letter came from Anna. She wants us to help distract Elsa today while she comes up with her birthday cake. She left Arendelle early this morning.” He explained.

“I can think of a way to distract her,” Honeymaren said with a knowing smile on her face.

“Me too!” Ryder snapped his fingers. “I’m gonna challenge her to a reindeer race,” Ryder said.

“You’ve challenged her before, and she always wins.” Maren pointed out.

“Come on. Let’s get back out into the campgrounds,” Ryder said. “She’s going to be curious if she can’t find us.” He led his sister out into the campground. They ran into Elsa as soon as they walked out of the lavvu. She smiled at them happily, and Bruni chirruped happily and rolled over on her palm. “Let’s go for a ride, Elsa.” Ryder suggested loudly. “You take the Nokk and we’ll take our reindeer. You and I can race again. Maybe I’ll win this time,” Ryder said in one long breath. Both Elsa’s and Honeymaren’s eyes widened. Honeymaren slapped her palm against her forehead and shook her head.

“You don’t want breakfast first?” Elsa asked slowly, uncertain how to respond to Ryder. Bruni crawled up onto her shoulder and licked her neck causing Elsa to giggle.

“N-no. Let’s go out into the forest and get started right away. We’ll make an extra long race course today.” Ryder chuckled nervously and he ran toward the woods.

“Just go with it,” Honeymaren said, and she shrugged at Elsa who laughed genuinely. She held out her hand and Elsa blushed deeply before she reached back and took the hand. Bruni jumped from Elsa to the snow below and chittered at the group before running off into the forest.

“What are you waiting for?” Ryder called from the edge of camp. “Let’s go!”

Bruni watched as Elsa, Ryder, and Honeymaren walked off into the snowy woods and he made soft noises to himself before turning the other direction. He ran toward the Wind Spirit as she played with and swirled the smoke of one of the campfires. Gale let the smoke alone and swooped down to pick Bruni up. The little salamander let his tongue out and wiggled happily as he hovered a few inches above the dirty, icy ground. She spun him merrily and then dropped him in a pile of snow. Bruni poked his head up, a weird purple and white snowman, and chattered contently.

Gale babbled and twirled her leaves and the other letter. Bruni looked in the direction that Elsa had gone in and twitched his head sideways as if considering something. He pulled himself out of the snow and then took off out of the camp running. At first, Bruni ran happily through the snow, but eventually he skittered up a tree and began hopping from branch to branch in a little purple blur. Gale followed him for a few moments before she peeled off to fly into the sky to deliver her final letter.

The small salamander jumped from tree to tree as quickly as his tiny legs could carry him until he started to hear noises.

“Is the cake still all right, Olaf?” Anna asked. The snowman looked up from his post and smiled at her happily. They had just entered the Enchanted Forest after rushing Sven through the morning and early afternoon.

“Never been better, Anna! Hey, do you wanna hear some more trivia?”

“Olaf, why don’t – “ Kristoff started, but a strange chattering interrupted him. “What’s that?” He stopped the sled and looked around. Sven checked their surroundings as well, but the white forest glittered silently.

“Protect the cake!” Anna ordered Olaf. He nodded and saluted her. The noise came again. This time, it sounded like it had come from underneath the sled. Anna and Kristoff looked at one another, and Kristoff jumped out of the sled to check under their vehicle.

“Well, there’s nothing under here,” Kristoff said, and he stood back up. Olaf and Anna began to laugh, and even Sven brayed with laughter. “What?” Then Kristoff felt tiny feet walking down his face. He put his hand up onto his face and he connected with a smooth, warm body. It squeaked at him when he touched it. “All right, all right!” Kristoff pulled his hands away from his face, and Anna reached forward.

“Hi, Bruni,” she cooed sweetly. The salamander chirped happily and he curled around Anna’s wrist in a familiar manner. “Are you here to help us deliver Elsa’s birthday cake?” Anna showed the huge cake to the Fire Spirit, and he perked curiously. He ran over Anna and toward the cake and sniffed it. Bruni licked his eyeball happily.

“Oh no, Bruni,” Olaf said with a grin. “That’s for Elsa, but I’m sure she’ll let you have some later.” The little snowman picked up the Fire Spirit. Bruni chirruped and squirmed until Olaf let him go and he ran over to the cake and licked it. His eyes widened joyfully, and he started to take a bite.

“No! Bruni!” Anna shooed him away. The little Fire Spirit squealed and ran. He shot up a nearby tree, glowing pink with fire and hiding behind a branch. “Bruni, you can have a piece!” Anna called. “You just have to wait!” The salamander watched, but didn’t come back down.

“Oh well,” Kristoff said. “We have to get going again if we’re going to be at the campsite before night, Anna.” She nodded and Kristoff snapped the reins to get Sven moving.

“I hope that Ryder and Honeymaren got my letter and that they’re distracting Elsa,” she said. She sighed and looked back at Bruni one time before he twinkled out and disappeared into the forest.

 Elsa stood next to the Nokk and Honeymaren and waited together quietly in a clearing. Finally, Ryder rode in on an exhausted reindeer, and slid off gasping for breath. He wilted to the ground and applied some snow to his forehead tiredly.

“I don’t think I’ve ever ridden that hard in my life.” He wheezed.

“You think you worked hard…” he said for the reindeer next to him. The reindeer walked away and joined a growing herd of Ryder’s ones he knew were ‘gonna win this time.’ The Nokk had yet to lose a single race or start to show signs of slowing.

“You done yet?” Honeymaren asked. Elsa chuckled behind her hand.

“No, there’s a reindeer here that’s gonna beat you,” Ryder said certainly. He started to head toward the remainder of the unraced herd and looked from the older reindeer to the younger reindeer trying to decide which deer would be his lucky steed.

“We’ve been racing all day. As much as I enjoy spending time with you two, don’t you have other things to do?” Elsa wondered.

“Don’t you want to spend time with us?” Ryder made a reindeer speak and he opened his eyes as wide as possible in an attempt to look sad. Elsa giggled again. Honeymaren just rolled her eyes. Elsa opened her mouth, but then Gale flew into their clearing and twisted around the trio.

“Hello, Gale,” Elsa said, “Do you have a message for me?” The spirit twittered and tossed Elsa’s hair into her face. She laughed when it knocked off both Maren’s hat and Ryder’s. “Why don’t we head back to the campsite? I’ll help you bring in the reindeer,” Elsa offered. Ryder and Maren looked at one another.

“But it’s so early to go home!” Ryder objected. “It’s barely past morning!” He threw a little bit of snow into the air and watched it plop back down.

“Ryder,” Honeymaren said, “It’s nearly evening. We’ve been out here all day and none of us have had anything to eat.”

“But – “ Gale fluttered through Ryder’s hair while he picked up his hat and Honeymaren’s. Once he stood up and saw the look both women were giving him, he conceded. “All right, let’s go home.” Elsa mounted the Nokk and waited while Maren and Ryder got onto their reindeer and began to round up the herd.

“Is it me or is he acting weird today?” Elsa whispered to the Nokk as she leaned over it and stroked its neck. The Nokk knickered and leaned into her touch tenderly. She watched as the brother and sister team gathered the reindeer up swiftly and admired how well they worked together. Gale came back through the clearing and swirled Elsa’s hair again before Ryder and Honeymaren were ready to go.

“Let’s, uh, go back slow,” Ryder said. “I think the reindeer are tired.” He scratched his cheek thoughtfully.

“Well yeah, you rode so many of them so hard today. Of course, they’re tired!” Maren exclaimed as the three of them trotted away with the herd moving alongside them. The three trotted in silence toward the campsite until a huge bang scared the reindeer and the Nokk.

“Whoa! Whoa!” Ryder and Honeymaren steadied both their rides and the herd quickly. Elsa patted the Nokk’s cheek and side and cooed at it as it sidestepped anxiously, but it didn’t try to run.

“What was that?” Ryder looked around and then pointed at a new pile of rocks stacked haphazardly in the clearing they had just exited. Behind the clearing stood the matriarch of the Earth Giants. She regarded the trio. “Um, thank you!” Ryder called to her and he looked to Elsa. “What does that mean?”

“I’m not sure,” Elsa said, and she waved to the Earth Giant. Gale fluttered around the Earth Giant’s head and then back down to Elsa where she swirled around the Nokk. The trio turned back and began to head toward camp when another pile of rocks flew and landed about forty feet ahead of them. They stopped and looked back at the giant and waved again.

“Are those cairns?” Honeymaren suggested. “There’s one for where we were, and another along our path. Maybe she’s helping us mark our trail.”

“But we don’t need a trail,” Ryder said.

“I think it’s nice of her,” Elsa responded and smiled at the Earth Giant. They began trotting again, but were wary of flying rocks scaring the reindeer or themselves. AS they moved closer to the camp the Earth Giant followed them in a few huge steps, and reached down and picked Elsa and the Nokk up. The Nokk had the presence of mind to stop, but Elsa was quite surprised. Honeymaren and Ryder shouted up from the ground.

“What’s she doing?” Maren called up.

“I’m not sure, but – there’s something going on in the camp!” Elsa shouted. “I can’t tell what it is, but – whoa!” The giant turned Elsa around and set her down facing the opposite direction. Then she began to walk away in huge, jarring footsteps before turning back as if she expected Elsa to follow.

“She clearly wants you to follow,” Ryder said. “Maybe she wants to see more reindeer and Nokk races.” He grinned widely and patted his reindeer on the neck. “We’re ready when you are.”

“No, it’s not that,” Elsa said. “I can usually tell when any of the spirits are troubled, and she doesn’t seem to be upset. She almost seems playful, but I’m curious about the campsite. Something’s happening there. Let’s get back and see what’s going on.” She suggested and turned the Nokk around back toward their destination.

Ryder and Honeymaren began riding alongside Elsa again as she hurried toward the camp, and voices started to become audible.

“We have to put the reindeer in their pasture,” Ryder said.

“All right,” Elsa responded.

“No, you too, Elsa!” Ryder replied too quickly. Both Maren and Elsa looked at him in confusion. “Uh, I mean, yeah, nevermind,” Ryder said and he blushed. “I’ll just take the reindeer in by myself.” He pulled his hat lower onto his head and ducked his head against his shoulders in embarrassment. Maren dismounted her reindeer so it could go with Ryder and the rest of the herd. Elsa also climbed off the Nokk so she could walk next to her. The Nokk ran off quickly to find a source of water.

“What was that about?” Elsa asked Honeymaren. “He’s been acting weird all day.”

“Does he really need an excuse to act weird?” Maren answered in a deadpan, and Elsa laughed. “So, how about we head back to camp and see what’s going on?” She suggested slyly. Elsa nodded and the two began to walk. Honeymaren reached over and took Elsa’s hand as they walked, and Elsa blushed deeply, but smiled back shyly.

The two walked hand in hand in silence until the camp started to come into sight, and they immediately saw Kristoff’s sled.

“Kristoff’s here? That means Anna’s here! What if something’s wrong?” Elsa cried and looked at Honeymaren in fear. Behind her, Maren saw Anna motioning for her to wait.

“Or they could just be here for a visit,” Maren tried.

“I have to find out,” Elsa said urgently, and she started to pull away. Honeymaren stopped her, and Elsa looked back.

“Elsa, what if I can promise they’re okay?” Maren said.

“How would you know that, Maren?” Elsa’s eyebrows rose as she spoke.

“I just – just trust me, and give them a minute!”

“Honeymaren, no - !” Maren grabbed Elsa and pulled her into a kiss. Both of them blushed intensely, and Elsa’s eyes widened in surprise before she began to smile and closed her eyes.

Then Ryder ran up on them.

“Hey, did you – whoa!” He turned away with his hands in his pockets and hurried back toward camp muttering about distractions.

Maren broke the kiss and smiled at Elsa.

“Come on; let’s go see now,” Maren said.

“You sure you don’t want to wait?” Elsa teased. Her face was flushed. The two women finally walked into the campsite and aside from Kristoff’s covered sled, saw nothing. “Where is everyone?”

“Surprise!” Anna, Kristoff, Ryder, Olaf and several of the Northuldran jumped out of various lavvu. Sven came out from behind a tree and lowed happily while Olaf ran over to the sled and carefully uncovered it to reveal a huge light blue birthday cake.

“Happy birthday, Elsa!” Anna came over and hugged her sister. Elsa laughed happily.

“Who wants cake?” Kristoff asked, and suddenly a loud chittering came from above. In a purple flash, Bruni fell out of a tree and landed directly on top of the cake splashing frosting all over Kristoff.

“Best birthday ever,” Elsa said.

“Which part?” Anna asked. Elsa cast a sidelong glance at Honeymaren and blushed a little.

“The whole thing,” she said, and she hugged her sister again.

[semperintrepida]

The Sellout: chapter four

four: the first thaw

This was a mistake.

Kassandra only had time for that one, brief regret as she toppled backwards into the display case. A bang clapped through her skull and left her ears ringing, and a manic grin loomed before her as the world desaturated to grey, then black... and then her vision returned in a shock of light and color as crisp as sunshine on fresh snow. Then time slowed down, down, down and she stopped thinking and started moving: finding her feet, grabbing fistfuls of the man's coat, and launching herself forward. She pushed him along, gathering speed as she angled him towards the windows, and then she threw him into the wooden bar hard enough to send the stools on top of it flying.

He bounced off the edge of the bar and landed on the floor in a sprawl, and as she sank to her knees, she heard the slap of his shoes against wood, then the door opening and closing, and then silence.

Every straight line in the room curved in on itself, and she pressed her palm into the floor to keep from falling over. Her chest was a furnace, each hot breath harsh in her ears, and she knelt there, staring at a knot in the floorboards, fascinated by the way it punctured the woodgrain around it.

Footsteps approached her in a hurry, then a voice, thin and tight, said, "Are you— Hang on, okay?"

Kassandra studied the cracks radiating out from the center of the knot. A weakness in the grain. Stupid. She'd thrown herself in harm's way for a woman who hated her. Why? She didn't even know the woman's name. So stupid.

She heard metal jangling against metal at the door. Then the footsteps returned, and the woman knelt beside her, a phone in her hand, its screen bright enough to sear a halo into the edges of Kassandra's vision.

"I'm calling 911—"

Kassandra put her hand over the screen, and as their skin touched, the woman jerked her hand and the phone away as if scalded. Kassandra sighed. "Don't."

"Don't what? Call?"

"He's long gone. The cops'll never find him, and they'll bring you more trouble than it's worth." And more trouble than Kassandra wanted to deal with to keep her name out of the newspapers and off of Twitter.

"Fine. No cops. But you should still go to the ER."

Her head ached too much to shake it. "No. I hate hospitals."

"Everyone hates hospitals."

"No ambulance."

The woman exhaled, sharp and quick. "Then what do you want to do?"

"Call an Uber, and go home." Despite her aching head and stiff neck, the burn in her lungs was fading, and the lines of the floorboards, and chair legs, and table tops were straightening back to true.

"That's a terrible plan."

Kassandra shrugged, and then she started to climb to her feet. She got as far as raising herself on one knee before her body refused to move any further. She swayed precariously. The floor seemed a long way down, and she imagined how it was going to feel when she smacked face-first into it — but hands grabbed her by her shoulders and held her upright. So much strength in those hands, but not an ounce of warmth.

"Sit here and don't move," the woman said, guiding Kassandra down so she rested with her back against the window. "I'm calling an ambulance."

Desperation drove Kassandra to catch her by the arm. "Don't. Please," she said, and the light in the room chilled from warm yellow to cold fluorescence, and instead of coffee she smelled disinfectant. She shuddered with the memory of medication and pain and being trapped in beds in white rooms, and it set off a fresh round of ringing in her ears.

The woman stared at Kassandra's hand wrapped around her forearm. "Okay, fine," she said, and when Kassandra released her, she rocked back on her heels, putting space between them. "Have it your way."

Kassandra shivered again, her spine cold where it pressed against the glass window.

The woman frowned and leaned closer. Her irises were rimmed with red, and graphite smudged the skin below her eyes. She clearly hadn't been sleeping much.

Kassandra could guess the reason why. She looked down at her hands. Stupid, coming back here — she should have left things to her research and legal teams and stayed out of the way.

"How does your head feel?" the woman asked.

"I've got a headache."

"Did you lose consciousness?"

"For a moment, if that."

"Stay here, okay? I'll be right back."

Footsteps, then rustling, and a drawer opening and closing. More rustling. More footsteps. And then the woman was back and handing her a bag of ice wrapped in a clean bar towel.

Kassandra took the ice and pressed it against the back of her head. "Thanks."

"Don't thank me. This wouldn't have happened if I'd locked the fucking door like I was supposed to."

"And you didn't because I was distracting you."

"You sure as hell did." The woman shook her head irritably. "Offering to buy me out. You don't even know what my books look like."

"I don't even know your name."

Her eyes widened a fraction. "Don't you have... people to figure stuff like that out for you?"

"Yes, but I was holding out hope you'd volunteer it."

She snorted. "Even after I told you to fuck off."

"I guess I'm just optimistic."

"No, you're just used to getting whatever you want."

It's called winning, Kassandra's brain offered unhelpfully, but she clamped her mouth shut around the words just in time.

They stared at each other in a silence that grew more and more awkward until the woman sighed and gave in. "My name's Kyra."

Kassandra extended her hand purely out of reflex. "Kassandra."

"I know," Kyra said dryly, and after the slightest of hesitations, she reached for Kassandra's hand and shook it.

A handshake was a message, and Kyra's said I don't suffer fools gladly. Her grip was firm but not crushing — though the muscles in her hands certainly held the strength to do so. Solid muscles, calloused skin. Powerlifter? No, too lean across her shoulders and thighs. Her mystery remained unsolved.

The ice was working its magic, tamping down the ache in Kassandra's skull. "I'll call that Uber now," she said.

"How did you get here?"

"Drove."

Kyra said nothing for several seconds, lost in thought. Then she gave a quick nod and said, "Look. I'll drive you home, or wherever. If you want. It's the least I can do after you..."

She didn't say ended up with a concussion on my behalf but she could have. Kassandra considered the offer. Passing out in her own car was more appealing than passing out in some random Uber, but there'd be a stranger at the wheel either way. She could see herself now: out cold in the front seat of her Audi, a flash of brake lights, the door opening, then Kyra dumping her into the nearest gutter...

Of course, if she was that worried about it, she could just call an ambulance.

"Okay," she said.

"Okay." Kyra sat back. "You all right with waiting a few minutes? I've got to close out the till."

"Sure."

Time passed in the form of sounds and silence, and then Kyra was crouching in front of her and asking, "Ready?" and when Kassandra nodded yes, Kyra offered a hand and helped haul her to her feet.

The room tilted out from under her, the floor bending like a rubber band.

A strong hand slid under her upper arm and steadied her. "You gonna make it?"

"I'm fine." She stared at the floor until its planks straightened again.

"Sure you are," Kyra said, but she didn't let go. She guided Kassandra around the stools that had fallen from the bar, and only released her when they stood before the door to the shop.

Kyra unlocked the door with a twist and jingle of metal keys, and then it swung open and Kassandra stepped into cool, night air. She waved Kyra's hands away and took a deep breath. The damp breeze sweeping in from the river was almost enough to cover the greasy carbon smell of exhaust. Around them, the sidewalks were already empty. No city packed up and went home as early as Portland did.

Her Audi sat by itself a few spaces up the way, lit by a streetlight. "I'm assuming that's yours," Kyra said, nodding in its direction, and she could have been pointing out a garbage truck for all the enthusiasm in her voice.

"Yeah." Kassandra walked gingerly to the car. The streetlight blazed down, bright as a spotlight. It made her eyeballs throb, and she squinted as she opened the passenger door and eased herself inside the car, grateful for the darkness of its interior.

It was disconcerting, sitting on this side of her own car, a mirror universe where everything was reversed and a stranger was sliding into the driver's seat. Kassandra leaned back so her head held the bag of ice in place — and then she pulled her seatbelt extra snug.

"It's like the cockpit of the space shuttle in here," Kyra said, as she ran her hands over the steering wheel and eyed the blank computer screen that took the place of a gauge cluster.

Kassandra grinned. "Push the big red button to start the launch sequence. Just don't... stomp on the gas."

But Kyra didn't leap at the chance to drive it like she'd stolen it. She took her time adjusting the mirrors and getting comfortable in her seat, and only then did she push the button to start the car, biting off a curse at the sudden roar of a hundred explosions a second being contained in the engine right behind her. Then she checked her blind spot and pulled onto Belmont as Kassandra worked the navigation system to make the route to her condo appear on the display.

Kyra's driving was competent and composed, and Kassandra began to relax despite the growing silence between them. They knew next to nothing about each other, and what they did know was something neither wanted to talk about.

The car turned as smoothly as a greased bearing onto the Burnside Bridge, the river an oily black ribbon below. At the far end of the bridge, the big "Portland Oregon" sign flashed its lightbulbs and neon, a vintage throwback that set the tone for the neighborhoods behind it.

Kyra changed lanes. "I'm surprised this thing doesn't drive itself."

"In a few more years I'm sure they'll come out with one that does, unfortunately."

"Unfortunately?" The passing streetlights lit her face in alternating stripes of light and shadow.

"I like driving. The sound, the feel of it."

"Driving one of these, sure. You're like a shark among the sardines."

"True." Kassandra couldn't imagine driving a beater Honda in rush hour traffic, and was glad she'd never had to experience that particular displeasure.

They glided downtown in a smooth bubble of movement, and whether that was from the car or from Kyra's driving, Kassandra couldn't say. Downtown, where food trucks clustered under high-rise office buildings and tent cities squatted within sight of every luxury hotel.

Burnside Street took them to 10th and the Pearl District — a neighborhood as clean, shiny, and multilayered as its namesake. Dig far enough and you'd hit the industrial sands it was built upon.

"Turn into that driveway on the left," Kassandra said as she fished her keycard out of her wallet. The gate lifted and let them inside, and she guided Kyra through the cramped nautilus of the carpark until they reached another gate. This one led to her private garage, isolated and secure.

The garage had three bays, but she hadn't bothered to ship any of her other cars here. Instead, she'd brought a pair of motorcycles: her favorite Triumph custom for the street and another bike for the dirt. The riding here was supposed to be some of the best in the world, but she'd rarely had any free time to find out.

Kyra eyed the bikes as she shut the engine off and opened her door.

"You ride?" Kassandra asked from the other side of the car.

"Nah," Kyra said. "I'd never have the time." A shame. She'd look good swinging her leg over that Triumph, wearing a black leather jacket to go with the red lumberjack flannel and jeans she was wearing now...

Her voice brought Kassandra back to reality. "You've got someone at home to watch you tonight, right?"

This is what Kassandra would come home to: high ceilings, tasteful furnishings, a spectacular view of the city — all of it very, very empty in its solitude. She'd have to admit it one way or another, but if she stayed silent she wouldn't have to hear herself say the words out loud.

Kyra looked at her. "You don't," she said quietly, and Kassandra couldn't tell if she was surprised by it or not. "I fucking knew I should have driven you to Legacy and bounced you onto the doorstep of the ER."

"I'm glad you didn't," Kassandra said. "And now that I'm here, you've done your good deed and you're free to go. I'll call an Uber for you, or a taxi. Whatever you want."

"Oh no, I'm not about to let you go on alone, just so you can die all by yourself."

"Wanting to watch is a bit bloodthirsty, don't you think?"

It was a good thing there was a car between them, because Kyra looked about ready to strangle her. "That's not what I meant."

Kassandra couldn't help herself, and she laughed even though it made her headache flare. "Well, come on, then. You can hate me up close all you want."

Up close is exactly what they got: in the stairwell, in the narrow hallway to the private elevator that serviced the upper floors of the tower, and in the elevator itself, where Kyra stood as far away from her as possible. Kassandra slapped her keycard against the reader. The numbers on the floor indicator ticked higher and higher, until they weren't numbers at all, just "PH".

The elevator released them into a small foyer.

"I don't hate you," Kyra said suddenly.

"Jesus doesn't like it when you lie," Kassandra said as she used her keycard to unlock her front door, and whatever Kyra's answer would have been was swept aside by their arrival.

The lighting and window systems woke up as Kassandra's smartphone connected to her home network. A soft glow from unobtrusive fixtures brightened the open interior of the space, while the windows shed their tint to put the city skyline on full display.

Kassandra crossed the room and sank onto the low-slung couch with a grateful sigh. She kicked off her shoes, then set the melted bag of ice down on the glass end table beside her.

Kyra was still lingering by the door, where the nearest wall displayed a triptych of poster-sized, black and white photographs. A lone dirtbike outracing a dust storm across the desert. A crumbling building made abstract in shadows and light. A landscape of the mountains encircling the bowl of Death Valley.

"Who took these?" Kyra's voice echoed from across the room.

"I did." Back when she had time to ride and travel. Now most of her shots were hurried sketches taken with her phone.

Kyra's circuit of the wall pulled her past the flatscreen TV, past Kassandra's bookshelves, until she stood in front of the windows. "It's so beautiful," she murmured as she gazed at the twinkling panorama of the city's east side.

Kassandra nearly got lost watching Kyra enjoy the view before she remembered her manners. "Can I offer you something to drink? Beer? Water?" She grinned. "Coffee?"

That made Kyra turn and approach the couch. "Is it from Starbucks? Then no, thank you." She picked up the soggy bag of ice on her way past, holding up a hand when Kassandra sat forward. "No, don't get up. I can find my way to your fridge," she said, glancing at the kitchen in full view before them. A trace of humor instead of irritation. Seemed this evening would bring Kassandra one surprise after another.

But no surprise would top the fact that there was someone else here with her. She'd never invited anyone — no friends, no lovers — to her home, or to any of her homes, really, and now some stranger was rooting around in her refrigerator and cupboards.

She closed her eyes and listened to the sounds of Kyra making herself right at home: the fridge and cabinet doors opening and closing, a quiet "Ahh!" of surprise as Kyra found her coffee stash, and then the kettle being filled and a gas burner igniting.

Then there was a gentle swirl of air beside her: Kyra, perching on the armrest of the couch, offering her a fresh bag of ice and a bottle of water. "You should drink this," she said.

Kassandra raised the bottle in thanks and took a swig.

"You've got beans from Camber and Sweet Bloom. So you do know something about good coffee."

"Not as much as I should. But coffee's not really my gig," she said, well aware of how it sounded. "I know a lot more about buildings and the land they sit on." She'd cut real estate deals and maximized returns on investments for over a decade, always high enough up the chain where the numbers involved had at least seven digits, insulated from ever having to see that the mom-and-pop competition belonged to real people instead of numbers on a spreadsheet.

Kyra's jaw clenched around a response. "I hope you don't mind me dipping into your stash," she said instead, keeping up the détente between them. "I'm going to be up awhile."

"Have as much as you want."

The sound of the kettle whistling drew Kyra away, and when she returned a few minutes later, it was with a mug cradled in her hands. She sat at the edge of the armchair across from Kassandra and closed her eyes as she inhaled the steam. "I'd offer you a cup, but I'm not sure you should with..." She gestured vaguely towards her head.

"I'm fine with this," Kassandra said, tilting her water bottle. "Which one did you pick?"

"The Sweet Bloom." Kyra sipped from the mug, then shrugged. "Aspirational, I guess, given our circumstances. And this particular roast cuts a nice profile."

"How so?"

"Light, honeyed, lots of florals. And brewed right, the results are"—she sipped again and smiled—"amazing."

That smile was enough to fill Kassandra with the irrational urge to keep her talking. "Who's your roaster?"

"Heart, here in town."

"Ahh, I should have known." They had a coffee shop of their own just up the street. "Why them?"

"They're local. And they haven't sold out to Wall Street like Stumptown did." She stood up, abruptly, and took her mug over to the windows, drinking from it as she watched the city lights. "Do you know why all the indie roasters started focusing on lighter roasts?"

"No."

"Because Starbucks went in hard on the dark roasts." Then she laughed, a brittle sound that bounced off the window glass. "I got into this business as a barista first, because I love how the best coffee tastes. I still do. I'll never serve anything less." She gazed pensively at the city, seconds stretching into minutes. Eventually, she turned to Kassandra. "How's your head?"

"Sore, but I'll live." She turned her neck experimentally. Still stiff. At least her head wasn't ringing anymore.

Kyra returned to the armchair and sat down. "Tired?" she asked.

"A little." More than a little. She'd been up since five and it had to be well past midnight by now.

"Sleeping would actually be good for you."

"Really? I thought it was the opposite," Kassandra said, remembering being poked and prodded on team flights and buses, kept from sleeping by assistant coaches after games where she'd cracked skulls with some opposing player. But that had been a long time ago.

Kyra flashed her a wicked grin. "That's why I'll be here to wake you up every couple of hours, to make sure you're just sleeping and not slipping into a coma."

Kassandra had been prepared for awkward silences, and perhaps some talking spiked with vicious, vicious words. But falling asleep while Kyra had free reign of her home... This was a terrible plan.

Kyra's grin grew wider. "Don't look so scared. My face is all over your security cameras and you know exactly where to find me." She made a show of studying her manicure. "Besides, murder's not really my style."

She had a point — and an actual sense of humor. Kassandra smiled. "I'm not so sure. You seem to know a suspicious amount about head injuries."

"I've seen enough of them to pick up a thing or two."

"I didn't know the coffee business was so dangerous."

"Not at the shop," she said, rolling her eyes. "Out on the rock, and in the climbing gym."

Rock climbing. How had Kassandra missed that connection? "Cliffhanger."

"My three loves put together."

Coffee, climbing, and books. "Tell me about them?" Kassandra winced at how inane the question sounded.

"I can definitely bore you to sleep if that's what you want."

"If I fall asleep, it won't be because I'm bored." And right on cue, she yawned.

"Well, this won't take long, then," Kyra said brightly. "So speaking of the folks at Heart — they called me up last week, all hot about this small, family farm they'd stumbled across the last time they were in Honduras..."

And Kyra talked, about heirloom coffee, and how roasters searched the world for the most interesting varieties, and Kassandra stretched out on the couch and listened, sometimes asking a question, but mostly resting in silence, mostly thinking about what it was like hearing another voice in a room that was usually so quiet and still.

And much later, she woke up to Kyra's hands gently tucking a blanket around her. "I'm awake," she murmured, wriggling in the blanket's soft cocoon.

"So you are," Kyra said wryly. She settled back into the armchair and picked up the book she'd set aside. "Go back to sleep."

"Not yet," Kassandra said, her voice thick and drowsy. The blanket was warm, like Kyra's hands had been. "I want to know what book... you're..." And then her brain tucked itself in and said good night.

Chapter four of The Sellout. Continued in chapter five...

[dahliawolfe]

Bound

True Blood fanfic. Will follow the books more closely than the show, but it has its own time line and will definitely not be completely cannon

The red and blue lights of the passing cruiser make my breath catch in my throat. Fuck. If I get pulled over, I’m fucked. And there’s nothing that anyone, even Eric Northman, can do to get my unfucked. Cuz the contents of my trunk are pretty damning. It’s all because of him. Eric Northman. He’s the reason I’m driving around with a body in the trunk of my new car. But, let’s start at the beginning.

…

“My. My. My. What do we have here?” I drawl, slapping on a wolfish grin as I enter Merlotte’s. I haven’t been home in nearly 5 years, but I know immediately that she’ll recognize my voice. And just as expected, that blonde head pops up over the booth. She beams at me before tackling me in a hug.

“Thais Adrieux, as I live and breathe!” Sookie Stackhouse exclaims, pulling away to have a good look at me. At 5 years my senior, Sookie has always been like a big sister to me. She helped me growing up; mostly teaching me how to train my…abilities. Much like Ms. Stackhouse, I too, am a telepath. However, my powers are different from Sookie’s in that I can get into the minds of all creatures, including vampires. And I can speak to them or put thoughts in their head. Not that I do! That would be wrong, but I can, if, and when I choose.

“Hey, Sook. How ya been?” The smile on my face is genuine, for the first time in a long time. It’s been a long, hard couple of months, and I’m glad to be home.

“How have I been?! How have YOU been, Miss World Traveller?”

“I….I’ve…I’m….I’m happy to be home. Any chance I could crash with you for a bit?”

“Absolutely!” she gushes, but I can see the worry in her eyes.

“Great. Any chance Sam could give me a job again?”

“I’m sure he could be persuaded,” comes a voice behind me, and I turn to see the owner himself; Sam Merlotte.

“Sam!” I greet, hugging him tightly.

“Hi, Sugar. We’ve missed you around here. Think you can start tomorrow?”

“Hell, Sam, I can start tonight if you want.”

…

The summers in Bon Temps are always nearly unbearably hot. But we’re at the end of the season now, and the wind whistling through the weeping willows and pines is cool, and it promises the end of the heat wave will be coming soon.

I sit on Sookie’s front porch, waiting on her to come home. It’s late. Nearly eleven. I’ve just been admiring the stars and smoking the occasional cigarette here and there. I don’t smoke often, but I always keep a pack on me for when the itch gets too bad. The soft pack of Camels are resting on my knee when Sookie finally gets home. I can tell she’s bone tired. But it’s Friday night, so I knew she would be. Fridays at Merlotte’s are always busy. I doubt that’s changed in the years I’ve been gone.

Even through her fatigue, Sookie offers me a warm smile. “Just don’t smoke those things in my house,” she teases. I laugh, standing and tucking them into my back pocket.

“Scout’s honor, Sook.”

…

Sookie and I are at the kitchen table scarfing down the pizza I ordered when a voice comes booming through the house.

“Sookeh!” it booms. And my brain immediately fires the word “vampire” to the forefront of my mind.

“Shit,” Sookie hisses, catching me off guard. Sookie never curses.

I quickly stand, marching to the front of the house. Whoever had upset my Sookie was going to pay.

“Thai, wait!” Sookie yelps, quickly catching up to me.

When I reach the front room, a tall, pale man, with old fashioned hair is standing there looking concerned.

“Who the fuck are you?” I demand.

“I’m Bill Compton, a friend of Sookie’s. And you are?” By this point, Sookie has joined us too, and she quickly jumps in.

“Bill, this is Thais, my oldest friend.”

“How do you do, Miss Thais?” Bill greets. I cock a brow at him. His genteel manner is pissing me off for whatever reason.

“I’m fine. Sook, you ok with this guy?”

“I’ll be fine, Thai,” she assures with a smile. I nod and step out onto the porch.

I can’t believe that Sookie would invite a vampire into her house. Is she crazy? I fish another cigarette out of my pocket and plop down onto the rocking chair. I’m tapping my foot to the song stuck in my head when a sleek, silver sportscar pulls into the driveway and a tall, blonde man unfolds himself from inside. He walks with confidence, and he gives off an air of absolute authority. He makes his way to the porch, where he pauses, looking a me. When our eyes connect, my heart studders and a bolt of electricity shoots through my body, leaving me breathless.

“Faen,” he hisses. I have no idea what it means, but I don’t think it’s good. He then storms inside, without ever actually speaking to me.

I’m too stunned to stand, but the sound of raised voices coming from the house is enough to bring me shakily to my feet. I make my way inside, and see Sookie standing between the two men.

“Sook?” I greet in question. I’m not A1 at the minute but I’m always up for a fight.

“Thai, go wait upstairs,” she demands.

“What?”

“Now!” she implores. Suddenly, the blonde vampire grabs my elbow, making my whole body tingle.

“She is not going anywhere,” he threatens.

“What the fuck is going on?” I demand breathlessly.

“Eric, let her go. Thai, please, go upstairs,” Sookie is very, very, very angry. And that sets me on edge. I forcibly yank my elbow from the blonde vampire’s grip and fold my arms over my chest.

“Somebody needs to give me some fucking answers. Now.”

“You are my limt kompis,” Eric says, as if I’m supposed to know what that means.

“Fuck is that?!” He rolls his ice blue eyes.

“My bonded mate. You were made for me.”

…

“Therefore, you will be coming with me. Pack your things. I will wait,” he informs, taking a leisurely seat in Sookie’s armchair.

“No, she will not,” Sookie barks, before I can open my mouth.

“She will be taken care of. Given only the best. Rest assured, Sookie.”

“Ex-fucking-cuse me, but don’t I get a say here?!” I yell, throwing my hands wildly in the air.

“Of course not. You belong to me,” Eric picks at his nails as he speaks off-handedly, as if it was a done deal.

I snort. “The hell I am. Come back when you can show me some respect, Blood Sucker,” with that, I make my way to the stairs. I have had quite enough shit for one night, thank you. I’m suddenly thrown over a shoulder. I yelp and flail. Who the fuck does he think he is?! “Put me down, Asshole!” He roughly smacks my ass, never once breaking his hold on me.

“Language,” he says, making his way to the door.

“Bill! Do something!” Sookie screeches. Bill steps forward.

“Now, Eric, surely something can be worked out…”

“Are you getting between my mate and I, William?” Eric asks icily, briefly pausing in the doorway.

“No. But the girl is clearly frightened. Look, the sun will be up soon, and you won’t even see her until tomorrow night. Give her one last night with Sookie. Let Sookie prepare her for you; tell her all she needs to know, and get her ready to be a good mate to you,” Bill reasons. The peripherals of my mind can feel Eric. And he’s debating with himself.

“Very well,” he finally decides, setting me on my feet and gently pushing the hair from my face and behind my ear. “I will return tomorrow night at night fall. Be waiting.” He then places a small, cold kiss in the center of my forehead and makes his way out of the house.

͠

I pace the living room. What the hell have I gotten myself into? I just wanted to come home. Sookie sits silently on the couch. I plop down beside her and run my hands roughly through my hair.

“Sook, how did you even get mixed up with vampires?”

She sighs. “Bill is my neighbor, actually. We met while Gran was still alive. We dated for a bit.”

“Fucks sake, Sookie,” I sigh.

“Don’t be one of those people,” she chides.

“I’m not. I’ve met plenty of decent vamps. But these two don’t strike me as decent.”

“They’re not all bad.”

“That remains to be seen.”

…

…

As it turns out, a new sheriff was coming to town to meet with Eric, and apparently, there was bad blood between them, hence the reason for the abrupt meeting of the two vampires at Sookie’s house the night before.

And speaking of vampire sheriffs, there are less than 8 hours until sunset, and “my” sheriff will be here to get me. And honestly, I could run. But I don’t have anywhere to go. And Eric strikes me as the kind of guy who would find me, at whatever costs. And I don’t have time for that, if I’m being honest.

͠

Sam has me working the lunch rush, and I’m up to my eyeballs in orders.

“Alright, Lafayette, I need a cheeseburger. Extra cheese. Extra onions. Extra mushrooms. Extra bacon. And a side of onion rings,” I dictate as I reach the window.

Lafayette rolls his eyes. “More like extra heart attack, Girl,” he sasses. I bark a laugh and pick up the loaded omelet sitting on the sill and place it carefully in the crook of my arm as I grab the 10 ounce Porterhouse for table 8. I drop the plates and am making my way to grab a pitcher of sweet tea when Sam calls me.

“Thai, can I see you in my office for a minute?” he asks, strained smile on his face.

“Sure, Sam,” I reply, seeing Arlene staring me down as I make my way down the back hallway to Sam’s office.

He gestures to the worn leather chair across from his desk, and I sit down for the first time in nearly 5 hours. Sam perches on the edge of his desk and looks at me. “Sookie told me what’s going on,” he begins. “And I have some friends who can help you get away.”

I sigh. “Sam, as thoughtful as that is, we both know he’d find me. And I don’t want nobody getting hurt because of me.”

“I can protect you,” he vows. I stand and wrap him in a hug.

“I’ll be ok, Sam. I promise.”

“You’ll come to me if you need me?”

“Of course.”

…

…

I walk into Sookie’s house just before sunset and fall down into her couch, sliding my white chucks off of my feet. I can hear Sookie in the kitchen, on the phone with someone, but I don’t bother getting back up. Instead, I grab a throw pillow and flop back, dozing almost immediately.

͠

“Eric, just let her sleep. She’s been working for 10 hours,” I hear Sookie’s voice as I wake up.

“I won’t wake her. Are her things packed?”

“Eric, you should let her decide. How is she ever supposed to trust you if you force this on her?” I feign sleep, intent on hearing his answer.

“It will come with time. She belongs with me. As I said, she will want for nothing.”

“That’s not what I’m saying, Eric. I know you have money. Hell, we all do. But she needs more than that. She needs someone who will care for her.”

“And you do not think I’m capable of doing that?”

“Well, I’m not saying that…” Feeling waves of anger rolling off of Eric, I telepathically reach out to Sookie.

Sook, you’re pissing him off. Maybe you should lay off. I’ll be ok. I’m gonna lay down ground rules. You know I can take care of myself. She immediately responds.

Of course, I know that. I also know how dangerous Eric can be. And I don’t want you hurt.

I won’t let that happen. Even if you can’t trust him, trust me.

I feel her silently give her assent, and she audibly sighs, as I sit up and stretch.

“Hi, Eric,” I greet.

͠

“First of all, we need neutral turf so we can negotiate terms,” I demand as Eric lifts my rucksack from the bottom stair.

“Terms?” he questions.

“Yes, terms. You don’t just expect me to give up everything about myself for you, do you?”

“Of course not,” he replies, but I can see a shadow of dishonesty in his eyes.

“Don’t lie to a telepath,” I say, turning and making my way outside.

“A telepath? You are a telepath?”

“Sookie didn’t mention?”

“I believe I would remember that.”

“Yes, I’m a telepath. I just don’t want it getting around. Problem?” I turn and pin him with a  challenging look.

“No.”

“Good.”

͠

I sit a bit uncomfortably in the passenger seat of Eric’s Corvette. He drives like a maniac, and I’m a little terrified.

“Hey, Buddy, do you mind slowing down? I’d rather not die.”

“I wouldn’t let that happen,” he says simply, easing off of the gas pedal slightly.

We make it to an all-night restaurant and bar called Penelli’s, and Eric whips into a parking spot close to the door. He’s out and to my door almost before I can blink. He opens it, reaching a hand in to help me out. I use it to leverage myself out of the low car and follow him inside.

“Table for 2,” he informs the host.

“Of course, sir. Bar or booth?”

“Booth,” Eric answers at the same time I say,

“Bar.” Eric raises an eyebrow but acquiesces. The host leads us to a tall table next to the bar and hands us two menus.

After I place an order for a rum and coke, and Eric one for True Blood Type A, we put the menus to the side and look at one another.

“You mentioned terms?” he entreats.

“Yes. Look, I still need to be able to be me. I’m still going to go to work. Go see my friends. Dress how I want. Eat what I want. And live my life how I please. Taking you and your concerns into consideration, of course.”

“No work,” he states, swirling the blood in his glass around.

“Yes, work. Work is important to me. Plus, Sam is depending on me.” He nearly snarls at the mention of Sam.

“You will not work for that furry bastard.”

“Excuse me, yes I will. Sam is a good friend, and you won’t speak about him like that.”

He stares into my eyes, apparently hoping to force me to change my mind. Finally, he growls.

“Fine. What else?”

“Well, you’ve heard what I have to say. You can tell me what you expect,” I invite, taking a sip of my drink.

“I expect you to allow me to care for you. This does include me keeping minimal control of where you go. Specifically, if I think it is dangerous. I also expect you to stay in contact when out of my presence. I would like to begin transitioning you to a more nocturnal schedule. And I will expect you to live in my home. I will provide for you. I will buy you anything you desire. But you must remain loyal to me. Do these terms sound reasonable to you?”

“Yes. I think I can adapt to that.” He nods, taking a long swig of his blood.

End pt 1

Ok, guys, I didn’t want to make this multi-part, but there is sooooo much I want to do with this story, so it would have been hella long. I’ll get more up soon!

[shirtlesssammy]

6x17: My Heart Will Go On

Then:

You never really die on Supernatural

Now:

Chester, Pennsylvania

In a Rube Goldberg-esque bit of murder mastery, a man fumbles his way around his garage, nearly dying several times, only to finally get taken out by his falling garage door. What a ride. 

Meanwhile, in Bobby’s neater than normal home, Sam and Dean watch him open another bottle of booze. They silently egg each other on to talk and finally decide on Rock-Paper-Scissors. Oop, it looks like you’re going to have to do the talking, Dean. 

Only, wait, Dean won! They think he should take some time and sleep, and process losing Rufus. Bobby’s DOING FINE. He just needs some Irish coffee. Sam suggests taking him on a hunt. Seems like different family members are dying in Chester, Pennsylvania. Bobby kicks them out of the house, so they decide to head out alone. 

They get in their trusty Mustang, and hit the road. 

...

Bobby keeps drinking until Ellen (!) shows up. 

…

She consoles him about Rufus and tells him to get ready for dinner. 

And she’s his wife. 

…

At the garage of horror, Sam finds a thread of gold. 

They split up. Dean interviews next of kin. He first meets with a Saul Goodman wannabe Shawn Russo. The guy isn’t too upset by his family members dying --he wasn’t too close with them. He also doesn’t have a lot of time for Dean’s genealogy questions. 

Dean tries sussing out any past family curse --poorly.  Shawn wants Dean to go, so Dean just comes out and tells him, “Your life is in danger.” Shawn thinks Dean’s threatening him. 

He connects with Sam who can’t find a single thing wrong with the family. 

At a travel agency, we watch Anne Witting chat on the phone, and time suddenly stops. Another woman, looking like Sam’s kind of librarian, takes Anne’s keys from her purse and throws them on the floor next to the copier. She leaves and time starts again. 

The woman gets off the phone and notices her keys are on the floor. Grabbing for them knocks a vase of flowers onto the copiers, which creates an electrical nightmare, which causes her to start slapping at it and finally reaching behind it to turn it off, which then causes her scarf to get stuck in the autofeeder, which the copier then tries to make a copy of, which strangles her. (Note to self: BE NICER TO THE COPY MACHINE.) 

The blonde woman comes back and marks a name off in a book, and drops a gold thread. 

The brothers check out the travel agency that night. It turns out that Anne isn’t part of the Russo family --so they’re not dealing with a family curse. Dean wonders what then. He then finds another gold thread. 

He calls Ellen, who reports there’s been about 75 deaths associated with this across the nation. The only thing Ellen has that connects the people is that their ancestors all immigrated to the US in the same year, on the same boat: The Titanic. Neither Dean nor Ellen had ever heard of it. 

…

Sam either. (And that’s when I call bull --unless this Sam isn’t a history nerd-- because the Titanic was a BIG deal before it became a BIGGER deal. It was the largest ship of its time. But as I typed this out, I feel like I should eat my words because there was another sister boat built with the Titanic, and I can’t for the life of me remember its name, so, yeah, chances are good it would have been lost to history for most people.) 

During their research, Sam notes that the ship almost hit an iceberg, but the First Mate, I.P. Freely saw it in time. 

Balthazar!

They summon Balthazar for answers about the boat. “It was meant to sink, and I saved it.” He hated the movie. (Boris is still one of the few and proud that’s never seen it --I cheered SO hard for Balthazar here.) He hated the Celine Dion song. Sam doesn’t even know who that is (HIS FAVORITE SINGER!) Sam points out that he thought that history can’t be changed. Balthazar points out that there’s no more rules. Anyway, only minor details have been changed --like no Impala. 

More importantly, Ellen and Jo are alive. They are supposed to be dead.

Dean and Sam focus on the here and now and point out that something is killing the descendants of the Titanic travelers. They need to find out who. Balthazar drops a truth bomb out of nowhere --pointing out that Cas is in love with Dean. Sigh. Also, he doesn’t care, and flaps away. 

They talk with Bobby on the phone and he thinks they’re dealing with Fate. How do they stop fate? Bobby suggests that they get Balthazar to re-sink the boat, but Dean nixes that idea instantly. Bobby wants to know what set him off --Dean tells him that if the boat sinks, Ellen and Jo die. Yeah, no way is that boat sinking.

The boys lurk in their iconic, uh, Mustang to follow Russo. 

They follow Russo in an attempt to keep him safe from Fate’s machinations. They manage to save him from one deadly accident, only for the guy to die under the wheels of a bus seconds later. Sam notices a woman watching over the accident. She looked kind of like a librarian. “Your kind of librarian or my kind of librarian?” Dean asks. Oh, Dean, why does it have to be a binary choice? Eyebrow waggle. Dean decides to head over and confront Fate in a shadowy building. 

Fate, meanwhile, is up to nefarious deeds. She turns burner knobs, releasing gas into the building as time stops around the Winchesters. When time starts up again, Dean’s flashlight flickers out in the dark. Sam suggests using a lighter and....

Just as the room starts to ignite, the Winchesters get yanked out of there! Cas saved them! He’s pulled them to Belarus. I will never not be able to watch this scene without thinking of the gag reel and Misha stag leaping around the woods. 

“[Fate] harbors a certain degree of rage towards you,” Castiel explains. Since the Winchesters foiled their apocalyptic fate, they’ve made it into Fate’s bad books. Cas suggests the best solution is for the Winchesters to kill fate. And they can use themselves as bait!

For CAAAAAAAS! Science:

Ellen tries to talk through the case with Bobby after Jo reports more and more dead on the West coast. Ellen suggests that the best solution would be to re-sink the Titanic, a suggestion towards which Bobby reacts...poorly. Bobby’s horrified at her casual suggestion. Ellen senses something is off with Bobby. Over drinks, Bobby spills everything to Ellen. He tells her that he needs her. 

After that solemn, emotional scene, we cut to Dean and Sam experiencing wacky near-misses. A skateboarder almost takes them out. Then a jumping BMX rider. Now a pair of aggressive dogs on leashes. (Extreme close of up Dean for extra sad jokes.)

They walk past a pair of jugglers tossing HATCHETS and KNIVES who proceed to LIGHT THEM ON FIRE - and I do love it when this show gets ridiculous. After several near-misses, a falling air conditioner finally plummets towards them. This looks like the end for our heroes!

For Looney Tunes Quality Science:

Time freezes the Winchesters under the air conditioner, and Castiel approaches. He greets Atropos, the Fate who’s after the Winchesters. She complains about the fallout of the recently averted apocalypse. 

Cas tries to argue for freedom. It’s a bold new world! But Atropos isn’t buying what he’s selling. The last straw for her was the unsinking of the Titanic. Cas tries to shift the blame to Balthazar, but Atropos calls him on that too. That wasn’t Balthazar following a whim. Cas needed more souls for his war machine, and sent Balthazar back to unsink the ship. She’ll make Cas a bargain: if the boat stays unsunk, then she’ll kill his “two favorite pets.” She may not be strong enough to escape Cas’s retribution, but her sisters will take the Winchesters down after she dies. Cas contemplates Sam and Dean.

Balthazar shows up, ready to kill Atropos, when Cas stops him. Cas is ready to take the deal. Balthazar gets Cas’s new order: it’s time to save Sam and Dean! I mean, it’s time to sink the Titanic. 

Sam and Dean wake up to Sam’s favorite singer belting “My heart will go on” on the radio. They talk about their weird, shared dream. Cas flaps in to greet them. He tells them that he had Balthazar re-sink the ship to ensure Sam and Dean’s safety. 

Sam and Dean try to process the balancing equation Cas dealt with, where their lives were more important than 50,000 people (who were never born, Cas hastily points out). Dean asks about Ellen and Jo, and the answer is NOT GOOD. What could have been! 

Dean asks if that whole alternate timeline was erased when the boat sank again. “More or less,” Cas says. EYEBALLS EMOJI. Cas wants the Winchesters to remember the alternate timeline. “You can make your own destiny. You don’t have to be ruled by fate. I still believe that’s something worth fighting for,” Cas tells them. Can I get a HELL YEAH? 

While it seems for a short while like Cas is edging towards telling them the truth of his war, he ultimately plays off the Titanic as only stemming from Balthazar’s hatred of the movie. “Titanic didn’t suck THAT bad,” Dean says. There’s my soft boy. Cas flaps out, and the Winchesters head inside to check on Bobby. His house is back to cluttered, gloomy chaos. Bobby’s asleep on the couch. Sam and Dean vow never to tell Bobby what he could have had.

It is Your Quotedany:

Accidents don't just happen accidentally

"What's an Impala?" Trust me, it's not important

You have me confused with the other angel. You know, the one in the dirty trenchcoat who's in love with you

Can’t avoid fate

Who do we gotta kill to get killed around here?

Want to read more? Check out our Recap Archive! 

[a-fallen-angel-with-a-shotgun]

I’d Give My Life for You, CHAPTER 1, Daddy Sam Winchester & single mother OFC

SUMMARY: For the past eight years, it had been Belle and her twin daughters hunting the Supernatural. When she meets up again with the Winchester brothers, secrets are revealed and drama enfolds. Daddy Sam Winchester ficlet

           “Remember girls- this is just a simple salt and burn,” Belle reminded her daughters for the nineteenth as she parked her battered voltswagon bus. “Melody, you’ll be tasked with the shotgun- make sure you have enough salt to blast anything if needed. Mary Anne, you’ll be in charge of making sure your older sister doesn’t shoot anyone who doesn’t deserve getting salt blasted into their eyeballs. Understand?”

The twins nodded their heads, identical serious looks on both faces. Their mother’s face, once riddled with smiles and laughter many years ago, now wore a face of emotionless stone- the corners on the sides of her mouth only twitched up once every couple of months.

           “Okay, once I’ve located the grave, I’ll torch the remains, and then we can be on our merry way,” Belle repeated the plan, opening the door to the voltswagon bus the three of them traveled around in. Sleeping arrangements were cramped, but they made it work. “Keep a lookout for the hiking ghost!”

 “Yes, mama,” Melody answered, gripping the shotgun tightly. In her saddlebag, Belle knew there to be extra salt blasts, in the event she would need to quickly reload. Mary Anne quickly found her older sister’s hand and the two girls trailed closely behind their mother.

 “Shhh!” Belle suddenly hissed, falling back and pulling her twin daughters into the shadows of the trees. She covered Melody’s and Mary Anne’s mouths with her hands. They could make out the sound of hikers arguing in soft voices- two males, from the sound of it, stomping their way through the heavy underbrush. She waited until after their voices could no longer be heard before hustling herself and her daughters to the site where the hikers would vanish.

 “Girls!” Belle hissed, jerking her head towards a barely there, well beaten path. “Follow me- and be quiet-”

 The words had barely left her mouth before an angry screech pierced the air. Belle leapt out of the way, just in time, to avoid being thrown off the path by the misty white apparition of a man.

 BANG

 Melody’s aim with the shotgun was true. A blast of salt hit the ghost and with a furious wail, he disappeared.

 “Hurry!” Belle hissed, grabbing the girl’s by the hands and herding them off the path, towards where she would’ve landed if not for her quick reflexes. “This must be it.” She began to heap fallen tree branches onto an old wooden shack, muttering under her breath. “Girls- keep a lookout!”

 The second that Belle lit the match, the ghost returned once more, howling as he rushed forward to attack her. Belle threw the match and the shack went up in flames. Belle threw her arms up to protect herself and a second later, the ghost disintegrated.

 BANG

 “HELP MAMA!”

 Belle turned to see two men holding her daughters, while Melody’s shotgun was discarded on the ground.

 “Hey!” she bellowed, charging towards them like a prizewinning bull in a fight. She took her trusty revolver from the back of her jeans and held it up, shooting a bullet off, resulting in the man holding Mary Anne to yelp in pain and let her go, clutching at his ear. “Let Melody go, or my next bullet will make love with your little friend,” snarled the mother, drawing Mary Anne behind her. She dropped her pistol down, making it clear which part of the body she was referring to.

 “Whoa, take it easy!” The man who had previously had Mary Anne held his hands up while sky opened up, allowing for the moon to shine through.

 “Wait a minute- Belle Larksong?” the man with the bleeding ear asked, his face suddenly visible in the bright light.

 “Well, well, well, as I live and breathe- if it isn’t Sam Winchester,” Belle sneered with a roll of her eyes. She stalked right up to him and he bent down, as though expecting a hug or a kiss. Even now, the difference in their height was comical to everyone presence.

 Instead what he got was a slap strong enough to send him toppling.

 “Let go of my daughter, or else I swear that I’ll make you an Enoch,” she snarled, Mary Anne pressing herself into her mother’s side as her anxiety skyrocketed. Her tense posture relaxed the slightest bit when her mother placed her hand onto her head.

 “Dean,” Sam ordered his older brother, his eyes darting from Mary Anne to Melody. “How old are you?” he directed her question at Mary Anne, who he could now see was shaking violently.

 “We turn eight on May 2nd,” Melody piped up, doing her best to squirm out of the man’s grip.

 It took Sam a moment to do the math, but when he did, he turned his soft hazel gaze to meet Belle’s steely blue eyes.

 “Do they know?” was all that he asked, standing and inching his way closer to his once girlfriend.

 Belle shook her head, willing herself not to burst into tears as she leveled the revolver at Sam as he slowly stepped closer until the barrel of the weapon into his lower stomach.

 “Why did you run?” he whispered, tears forming in his eyes as he thought of the past eight years that he’d missed out on. “You had no right to keep me in the dark- I missed out on eight years of being a father!”

           “You said you didn’t want kids, remember?” Belle hissed, barely reining her infamous temper in for the moment.

“Dean, let her go!” Sam barked at his brother without turning. He them felt a tiny hand jerking on his shirt; it was Melody, who was looking up at him with big, shiny doe eyes. As soon as he was giving her his full undivided attention, she kicked him in the shin before bolting off to hide next to her sister.

 Belle laughed out loud, kissing her eldest daughter on top of her head.

 “That was brilliant, sweetheart,” she chuckled. “Great minds think alike; I was actually about ready to do that myself.”

 “Mama?” Sam and Dean jumped at the little voice which came out of Mary Anne. “I’m tired…”

 “Where are you staying?” Dean asked, already feeling a fond spot for the twins, despite having only known of their existence for no less than five minutes.

 “We sleep in the bus,” Melody offered, taking her sister’s hand once more, successfully calming her shaking to a more manageable point.

 It took the brothers a moment to understand what she was talking about.

 “You mean you still have that heaping hunk of old crap?” Dean asked, his eyebrow practically disappearing into his hairline.

 “As how it’s my main mode of transportation and a good, cheap hotel, yes, I still have it,” Belle snapped.

 “The three of you are staying with us in our hotel room,” Dean decided. “No argument.”

 Belle opened and closed her mouth a few times before throwing her hands up in the air, an exasperated look on her face.

 “Fine,” she muttered, knowing when she was defeated. “Sam, keys.” She threw them at him and followed Dean back to the Impala, muttering darkly under her breath with her twin daughters tailing closely behind her.

    EVERINGTHINGS TAGLIST

@winchester-favorite-girl

@waywardnewcomer​

@negans-lucille-tblr​

@wonderfulworldofwinchester​

@sofreddie​

@thewnchstrs​

@super100012​

@ravengirl94​

@jadewritings​

@syusbunker

@buckyhoneyno​

@katymacsupernatural​

@the--blackdahlia​

@holylulusworld​

@whitewitchdani​

@fandomationwhore

@webcricket​

@cass-trash​

@lil-sister-winchester​

@gabrielxreader​

@forever-trapped-in-my-dreams​

@smallriderbigdreams​

  TAGLISTS ARE OPEN/ ASK BOX IS OPEN/ REQUESTS ARE OPEN/ PLOT BUNNIES ARE WELCOMED

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[duker42]

Hiii, can i please request a smut one-shot of professor Armin(if u don’t wanna write for Armin it can be Levi please) and his s/o student at the university. I reallyyyyyy love all the stories you write you’re wonderful THANK YOUU 💓💓💓

*****WARNING*****NSFW

💜Professor💜

Y/N knew that she liked the timid genius that taught her literature class at the university. Professor Armin Arlert was passionate about learning and posed thought provoking questions about the books they consumed and discussed.

She hadn’t expected the wave of list that overcame her as she saw him working out in the campus gym. How was far more muscular that his demeanor and clothes would suggest.

She had eyeballed him the entire time she was on the treadmill while he was working out with two other people.

When she was in class later that day, she had a hard time concentrating, instead focused on his hips and ass as he paced the front of the room while discussing the effects of 13th century poetry had on the modern written word. She was just lucky she had set up her recorder before spacing out.

Y/N found Professor Arlert at the bar that she enjoyed hanging out at with friends that night. A few miles from campus, it didn’t attract as many of the frat or sorority types, making it idea for those that wanted to have fun without the need to shotgun every beer.

He was with those two people from the gym, this time all of them talking and drinking from the beers sitting in front of them as they kicked off the weekend.

Armin saw Y/N and groaned to himself as he took another sip of his drink. The girl was driving him crazy. He had noticed her in his lectures, always paying attention to him. He appreciated that, but after this morning, that look hushed directed at him had turned lustful.

He already wanted the bright junior. Had a hard time concentrating on her questions when she popped by during his office hours. Her mouth so close as she asked legitimate questions rather than the vapid ones the other girls that wanted to fuck him asked. He might be a brainiac with his head stuck in books, but he knew that plenty of girls in his class wanted to sleep with him.

There was one that he wanted and she was sitting on that barstool across the floor, laughing at something a friend said as she picked up her drink and took a long swallow. He had been interested in because of her love of learning, her quest to excel for herself and that appealed to his own nature.

He watched her relax, the alcohol taking affect as she talked and threw him increasingly sultry looks from her seat. He had barely paid attention to the conversation between Mikasa and Eren, his focus was to intent. She wasn’t drunk, there was so way she could be considered impaired he thought as he calculated her intake and the hours she had been there.

He knew the moment she stood where she was going. He made his excuses and threw a few bills down on the table to cover his portion of the bill. He met her halfway and didn’t speak, just kept walking past her and jerked his head for her to follow.

Outside the bar, he turned and questioned her. “You’re sure?”

“God yes. Let’s go, my place is....” She said tugging her towards her car.

“I’m around the corner.” He broke in, pulling her away from her car and walking the short distance to his house.

When they had entered his house, Armin felt himself being pushed up against the door, Y/N attaching her lips to his. He didnt’ mind it at all, like the feeling over her taking charge.

Her tongue slipped in his mouth and he was quick to explore it with his own, his hands tugging at his coat as he tried to shrug out of it. Her hands were already sliding under his shirt and feeling the abs that few knew he had.

“Why are you so.....timid if you look like this?” Y/N asked in between kisses as she pulled at his lower lip with her teeth.

“Physicality doesn’t equate to nature.” Armin replies in huff as she nips at his chin. Her teeth trail down to graze his Adam’s apple and he closed his as at the shudder running through his body. She was so aggressive and he was loving it.

He started pulling at her clothes, lifting the shirt she wore and tossing it on the entryway table and he pushed off the wall and started walking her back towards his bedroom. This was good, felt great, but he wanted the bed beneath them when she decided how she wanted to take him.

When they reached his room it was a blur of shedding clothes and hurried touches. She was finally naked and he took in the wonderful view of her supple body as he stood in front of her with his cock hard and waiting.

She pushed him down on his bed, where he eagerly moved to the center as she crawled up dangerously eyeing him. She straddled his and he groaned at the feeling over her smooth wet pussy rubbing over his cock as slid herself up and down on his length.

He reached up and tried to touch the mouthwatering globes hanging enticingly over his chest, but she slapped his hand away and moved it down to her clit. He sigh at the wetness on his finger and cock, knowing that if she wanted to, she could impale herself on him right now with ease.

Y/N teased Armin, biting at his smooth chest, leaning indentions of her teeth on his skin as she worked her way over to his hard nipple. He moaned when she bit it lightly, his cock flexing under her as she grinned and bit down a bit harder. She had figured he was a bit of a submissive and she was right.

She reached back and fondled his sac, his thighs instantly moving apart to give her more room as his hips moved up against her. He wanted more friction, more everything.

She kept rubbing herself against him, enjoying how the length of him was rubbing against her as his fingers brushed the hood of her clit. She was feeling needing, want to have him move inside her. But he hadn’t felt her hand on him yet.

Armin gasped as Y/N’s finger surrounded the tip of his cock and started massaging him. His body drummed with need as the bulbous head was pulled at slightly her finger circling it and running across the slit on top. He rubbed harder at her clit as his hips lifted again, desperate to feel more.

Y/N laughed as she leaned forward and lifted herself. His cock rose naturally and pressed against her entrance. She pressed down on his chest with both of her hands as she slowly sank down on him. His hands moved to her hips as he groaned at the feel of her tight passage around him. Y/N’s loud moan of enjoyment filled his ears as his cock filled her body.

She moved with grace and a determined pace, her hips moving and her body lifting and lowering onto him as she rode him hard. He loved the weight of her pressing down on his chest as she moved, the feel of her slamming herself onto him. His hips thrusted up, eager to fill her again when she pulled away.

She leaned down, kissing him as she slid her breasts against him, her hips still furiously working his cock. He groaned his appreciation into her mouth as his hands tightened on her hips.

He flipped her over, surprising her as he moved her legs around his waist. He was submissive sometime, but sometimes he like to be in charge and make the girl cling to him while the fucked them.

Her hands where around his shoulders, her nailed digging into his skin as he drove himself deep into her. His hips snapping against her as he pushed with all his might. the position was delicious, the angle perfect as she saw stars behind each thrust of his cock into her pussy.

He was close and so was she, their body’s racing towards the finish line. Y/N felt herself tensing, arching up as she reached in between them and flicked her clit. She held on to him and tightened, her tremors pulsing around him.

Armin felt her cum around him, felt the liquid of her release flow around him in a hot wave. It was amazing and made his stomach clench as he pushed her through it. He just needed a bit more and he would explode. She tightened right as he pushed back, causing that extra bit of pressure around the tip of his cock he needed. His release made his body tense as he felt his cum shoot from his cock and pump into Y/N’s core.

He gasped for air as he started breathing again. Rolling off of her, his blue eyes wandered up to her face to see if she enjoyed it. Her eyes were closed and her hand thrown over her head. A lazy smile graced her lips.

“Huh....never expected that Professor.” She laughed as she cracked an eye at him.

Armin grinned and looked down at his favorite student. “Well....I’m full of surprises, Y/N”

Mobile MasterList

[hoeiplier]

i havent written anything in forever, gomenasai ~mod ghostie 

jackie/sammy featuring anti

TW // DUB-CON, TENTACLES, BLACKMAIL, UNEDITED AS FUCK

// 

Jackie bit his lip as the slimey tentacles dragged themselves over the town shreds of his suit. Red and blue leather falling apart, exposing his toned body. Heated skin becoming stained with the oozing green slime the monster secreted. 

It started out easy enough -- take down Anti’s pet, fondly named Sammy, and keep the citizens of this city safe from it’s grips. Jackie had just about done it! Grimacing as Anti laughed heartily atop of the city’s abandoned warehouse. His gleaming eyes cascading down on his pet monster wrestling the hero to the ground. 

It all became a fast blur as Anti said only one request.

“Sammy, pounce.”

...Which lead to the scene now. The near cartoonish eyeball monster spouted more tentacles. His slime becoming slicker as Jackie struggled to grip. Hoping to fly away to a safe distance, but those damned tentacles held his quivering body down.

"You -- You bastard, just knock it off! You k-know I’m gonna win--fuck,” Jackie groaned. Anti smirking devilishly, his eyes watching as his dear pet Sammy set to work on his newest trick.

Jackie could feel each tentacle rip at his suit, soothing his worn body, touching at his inner thighs, just beneath his ass, even reaching up to caress at his cheek. Touching him like no single person has in a while. His heart racing as Sammy’s tentacles reached further down his now completely nude body. Panting with hesitation and want.

“H-Hey, Anti...c-c’mon. G-Get him to...to...fuck--”

“Oh, he will alright.” Anti replied with pride, “maybe a nice good fuck will get you to lay off our backs for a while.”

Jackie could barely reply. His briefs being pulled clean off his lower half as his semi hard cock throbbed in the cool air of the warehouse. Biting his lip once more, holding back the moan he didn’t dare let slip. Knowing it’d only be what Anti wanted.

Sammy only blinked, it’s once angry gaze now a soft glance. Almost bored as it’s thinner tentacle reached up to play with Jackie’s cock. The soft underside of it’s tentacle runs up along the length. Jerking it slowly, drawing out pre-cum in just the first few moments of it’s teasing touch.

“Fucking...Anti--”

“Aww, what’s a matter, Jackie? Big bad hero high strung? You’re already leaking. What, none of those pretty ladies and gents you save everyday give you something in return?”

Jackie lets his head fall back, eyes closed shut, his body moving in motion with Sammy. Letting his legs open as a thicker tentacle runs along the back of his knee, teasing at his entrance. Already so worked up in so little, maybe Anti was right...

“Show him a good time, Sammy, don’t rough him up too much.”

The monster purred, before letting the tentacle slowly inch inside the hero. The slime helping it along the ring of muscle. Two extra tentacles holding Jackie’s ass cheeks open. A completely lewd sight for the villain above. 

“Shit--!” Jackie finally moaned. The tentacle curving up slowly inside him, rubbing against his inner walls in the most perfect of ways, the other rubbing along his dick -- teasing his leaking head. It was all...so...so

Perfect.

Amazing.

Everything he needed -- pleasure crashing on him. His body so use to the abuse crimefighting had on him, nearly melting at the first sensual touches it’s had in months. 

Jackie arched his back into the tentacle around his cock. Mouth finally opening in a long drawn out beg for more. His thighs quivering as Sammy lifted him up higher in the air. As if presenting the hero. The tentacle sweetly fucking into him. Bright green slime oozing out around his hole as Sammy fucked him thoroughly. His body giving into the pleasure, his ass held nicely spread out as the monster had it’s fun with him.

Anti smirked.

It was a sight to behold, Jackie -- the city’s own savior -- now being fucked like a common whore. Begging to be filled, touched, dominated. Complete opposite to his usual dominant attitude. 

“Fuuuuck, Sammy--” Jackie moaned, his body bouncing at the sheer pace the monster went. Skin slapping against skin, his cock throbbing harder and harder in Sammy’s grip. The soft squishy underside of the tentacle wrapping so warm and tight around his cock, jerking up and down, the end of said tentacle running under his foreskin. Teasing the sensitive spots along the head, all  driving him closer and closer to the edge.

His ass jiggled with Sammy’s efforts, a lone tentacle spanking his toned ass as it fucked him harder and harder. Making sure to hit his sweet spot deadon almost every time. The tentacle not like the others -- much more firmer, bigger, making Jackie’s eyes roll back as it fucked into him. Pleasure shooting throughout his body as the tentacle thrusted in and out of him. Still spanking at his cheeks as it went along -- leaving his ass as red as his suit.

“Good boy, Sammy.” Anti chuckled. A long drawn out cry coming from the hero. Eyes closed shut, body twitching as he came. Cum shooting from his cock, dirtying Sammy and his appendages, clenching around the tentacle inside him. Chest heaving as he rode his orgasm.

The warehouse seemed as quiet as it had been before the two fought. Jackie still enjoying the afterglow of his orgasm, his blue mask just barely hanging onto his sweat drenched face.

“You’re good at being fucked, you’re good at begging, hell -- even good at moaning...” Anti walks along the warehouse’s upper level, where he’d watch the whole ordeal from. Three blinking red dots in front of him that Jackie hadn’t noticed before. Suspiciously reminding him of cameras... 

“Let’s see what else everyone’s favorite hero is good at, hmm?” Anti cackles again. Jackie losing all thought as the tentacle around his dick let go. Still dirtied with his own cum, entering his mouth. The hero giving in, why not? When will he get treated this well ever again?

Jackie groans -- letting the tentacle reach down his throat, pulling back in and out. Fucking his face properly as another reaches up to pull at his hair.

“Good boy. Sammy,” Jackie gives in, mumbling around the tentacle in his mouth with pleasure. The ones inside him slowly start their pace from before.

[aj-artjunkyard]

‘Til Death Do He Part AU CHAPTER ONE: Wailing Sirens

The ‘official’ ‘Til Death Do He Part AU story begins...

Wailing sirens cut through the silent street, getting more and more deafening as they approached the bloodied form of a young adult who lay motionless on the sidewalk. The flashing blue and red police lights blinded and irritated the man. Nonetheless, he tried his hardest to keep his eyes open for as long as possible. He couldn’t loose sight of the billions of gleaming constellations above him. But despite best efforts, they were becoming dimmer by the minute. Lester dragged in rugged, uneven breaths that became slower and more sluggish as the seconds passed.

His favourite wooden peacoat was loosing its grey colour to the deep red seeping from his side. His work shirt was in tatters, torn to shreds by the hellhound that had attacked the three young demigods he had been driving to camp half-blood. Lester thought of the little girls he had been guiding, his sympathetic heart aching at the thought of preteens making the long journey to camp all by themselves. He had defeated the hellhound and given them time, but with the price of his life. A price he was willing to pay. The thin, navy scarf he constantly wore in a European loop had come undone, the light fabric fluttering in the bitter winter wind. His pale skin had been utterly drained of pink undertones. He was too tired to quake under the sting of the December cold.

Footsteps. Getting closer. Yelling. Faint yelling. Faraway…

“…ter? Lester! C’mon buddy, wake up. Lester!”

Lester felt a few light slaps to his cheek, the cold of this person’s hand shocking his eyes into opening a crack. (Wait…they had been closed?) He managed a tiny smile when he saw that he was looking up into the face of a very familiar man. The same man who had kindly brought him, a grubby teenager dressed in torn rags, into his own house when Zeus had refused to accept the tried boy back into his Olympian ranks. The same man who worked late shifts and extra days at his job as a police captain to pay for the additional food. The same man who had treated him like his own son for almost nine years.

“It’s me, it’s Derek!” His voice was fast and breathless. A reassuring smile tugged on his lips, though his eyes showed nothing but pure, undiluted fear. He sounded desperate for anything, any noise from his adopted son. “Derek Goodman, you hear me Les’? It’s-”

“Dad,” the young man croaked, before breaking down in a fit of coughs. Derek tried his best to calm his son, though he had to admit, the gash in his right abdomen was alarmingly deep. He was loosing blood fast. Derek kept one large, dark-skinned hand on the wound to slow the blood flow, and used the other to point and bark orders at his men who stood aways back from the scene, all very interested in their own boots. They had never seen their centred captain this distraught - and none wanted to endure it for much longer - and so they scattered to follow the captain’s commands.

Meanwhile, Lester Papadopoulos was focusing all his remaining energy into tracing his index finger around a crack in the pavement beneath his hand, trying to think about anything other than impending death. He had known that the clammy hands of Thanatos would tear away his life-force one day, but he had hoped it would happen like a regular mortal’s (as sad as he knew that was). In fact, he had envisioned it many times: he was in a hospital bed during a bright summer afternoon. He was surrounded by his children, his friends (most of which might as well be his children), and perhaps even his mother and twin, who still shone with eternal youth. He was grey and withered. This millennia-old life had nothing more to offer him. He was complete and at peace. The reality was startlingly crueler.

The pain that tore at his stomach, hands and face was fading to a dull throb as a deathly cold overtook his senses. His mind was alight with panic - where would he go when he died? Would he scrape Elysium or would the gates of the fields of punishment swallow his soul? Would he be cast into Asphodel, forced to wander for eternity as a blank apparition of his former self? Would he ever see his children again? Would he ever see Meg again? Meg. Where was Meg? Would she be okay without him? Would his mother weep for his passing? Would his father care? His last breath escaped his lips before he could think of an answer.

Even until the very end, the man’s slashed and bleeding hand clutched onto a phone, the screen still alight with the emboldened words: ‘Dad’ and ‘Call ended’.

……………

………

…

.

I couldn’t hear anything. 

I couldn’t feel anything. 

I couldn’t see anything.

No. Wait.

I could see something. It wasn’t anything, but it wasn’t darkness either. It was different. It was light. A blinding, golden light that pierced my vision like searing hot needles. My body burned, but I could feel no definite limbs or appendages - just blazing, scorching heat. I didn’t feel solid. But I was there, and for now, that was enough. Voices faded in and out of earshot, like someone was repeatedly dunking me underwater and yanking me back upwards before I drowned in my own subconscious.

Blurred shadows danced across my vision, blocking out the intense light with their large forms. Slowly, those forms sharpened and became detailed. I searched the many faces looming above me, surrounding me as if I was a fading patient on a hospital bed. 

The faces were human... but not quite. They gave out a certain aura of boundless, buzzing power. I was quite sure it was supposed to make you drop whatever you were holding and run screaming to your momma, which is something I would’ve appreciated at that moment. As well as their general aesthetic, they also had strange features that no human should possess. The few who seemed happy to see me had literal halos of light around their heads that reflected their cheerful smiles. Some were less ‘excited’ and more interested in my presence - one of which was a woman with piercing grey eyes who wore a full set of gleaming bronze armour, complete with a helm. One of them leaned against the wall to my left, smoking a cigarette and absentmindedly cleaning his wraparound shades on his red muscle shirt. His eye sockets were hollow, and where his eyeballs should have been, there were two spherical flames, both sparking and flickering furiously.

Panic started to swell in my throat as I realised the sheer number of beings present. Their energy unsettled me, their searching eyes and obvious raw power left me feeling extremely small and exposed. I tried to lift my arm, but I was too weak to move a muscle. All I could do was observe as eleven pairs of eyes (or flames) stared me down. 

“Try not to move, sweetie,” whispered a caramel-haired woman to my right. “Your essence is still settling. Give it time”. She talked in a calming, soothing manner, like a mother to her child. Her tanned skin seemed to glow in the bright light, and her features were soft and caring. She wore a stark white sundress that revealed her shoulders. She looked as if she had been crying for hours. I felt my pounding panic slow to a rate that would only worry a doctor (instead of sending them into immediate shock). She did not seem like the type to try to hurt me. And I could’ve sworn I had seen her somewhere before. 

In fact, I could have said the same thing to everyone in this room. They were all so frustratingly familiar, yet so vague that I couldn’t place it. Where had I seen them? In a dream? In a past life? Was I dead? I didn’t feel dead. Then again, I had never died before. Not completely, anyway. I tried to voice my concerns for which direction my soul had gone and if I could possibly go home, preferably with a hot latte and a sincere apology in the form of this month’s rent money, but all that came out of my mouth was a puff of air and a small squeak.

“She told you not to move, idiot,” an annoyed, young girl to my left spoke, rolling her piercing silver eyes - though they were also red and puffy from tears. She was about thirteen in age, with auburn hair pulled back into a high ponytail. She wore a grey parka, arctic camouflage trousers and weathered white hiking boots. On her head, she wore a silver crescent circlet that glinted in the light. I looked down and noticed she had one hand squeezing my arm so hard her knuckles were white.

My arm.

I choked in horror as I took in my state. My skin was shifting and moving like the surface of a pool. My arms melted from being tanned and muscular, to being wiry and pale, and sometimes completely formless - like churning liquid gold encased in a vague human-esque shape. I saw my clothing was the same, though it flickered more frequently. The bronzed skin wore short greek togas, white blazers with gem-studded lapels, skinny jeans or red leather jackets. The pale form’s wardrobe was much more limited - a thick, grey, knee-length peacoat made an appearance in many of the outfit combinations, along with a navy scarf and with dark, uniform trousers with work loafers. Sometimes though, the body sported a plain t-shirt with flannel pyjama bottoms or an oversized navy hoodie with some loose jeans. I noticed that unless the black loafers had been adorned, that form hardly ever wore shoes, like he could only afford one pair - though being broke would also explain why he wore the peacoat with everything. 

Confusion beat down on my mind, threatening to crack my skull with the pressure. Who was I? Which one of these bodies was mine? Surely it couldn’t be both. I closed my eyes and racked my aching brain. What was the last thing I remembered? Faces began to swim in my memories. 

I remembered a girl in her late teens, about five years younger than myself. I had known her for years and knew her inside out - the pudgy ex-street-urchin who had been my best friend for nine long years. She had a bob of shaggy black hair and a constantly changing sense of fashion that got more mismatched with every outfit. Her tracksuit bottoms were a favourite, and maybe a tattered jacket every now and then, but sometimes she even dared to leave the house wearing double denim, which was the biggest no-no known to the human race. She had long since ditched the cat eye glasses in exchange for some more regular-looking red glasses, even though they magnified her eyes so much that she could have been mistaken for a Disney character. I grabbed at the name in my conscious, refusing to forget - Meg Mccaffrey.

The shifting between looks slowed as I thought about the name. The fit, tanned body became less frequent as I remembered what I looked like. Images - memories - flicked through my head. Feeling spread throughout my nerves and tingled warmly at my fingertips. I felt the soft bedding below me, and the tickle of my tight curls on my face. With my shoulders relaxing, I tilted my chin up slightly and sank further into the comfy pillow beneath my head, taking long, deep breaths. My life flowed through my brain in double time, allowing me to relive the last nine years in seconds. 

My name was Lester Papadopoulos. I was a clear-sighted mortal and a lanky, caucasian man with tight brown curls, blue eyes and a relentless case of sniffly nose that never seemed to dissipate. My father was Derek Goodman, who had fostered me shortly after finding me unconscious in an alleyway in Brooklyn Heights, and officially adopted me when I turned eighteen. From there I had worked towards a goal of helping people, like my new dad did in his job as a police captain. I had become a paramedic, the first one one the scene when someone was hurt. I had saved some half-bloods from minotaur wounds, minor deity singeing and cyclops bruisings and broken bones. I calmed them and drove them to camp, where word spread of the human hero who openly helped half-bloods, free of charge and free of tricks. My crummy apartment had become a safe place for the lost and hurt descendants of both Greek and Roman deities - and even sometimes their faun or satyr protectors, if they were lucky enough. Even when I had no money in my pockets, I still tried my hardest to keep the shelves stocked for the next poor kids who didn’t ask for their fate. When those kids reached their camps, armed with the information that I was practically broke, demigods started appearing with snack food or teabags as meek offerings (curtesy of the satyrs/fauns, who seemingly didn’t know what humans needed to make a sustainable meal). I learned their names and remembered their stories. When they couldn’t sleep, they snuggled themselves into my own bed, like my own little personal hot water bottles - if hot water bottles could burrow their heads into my sides and put their freezing cold feet on my legs. They were all a constant hassle, and I loved each and every one of them with all my heart. I would do anything to keep them safe, which is why I always had to say goodbye.

It dawned on me that this was what I had been doing when I died.

A chilling scene played in my mind’s eye. It was dark, the street only lit by the golden light of the sparse, flickering street-lamps. I was running, my breath short, my exhales causing bursts of mist to hang in the frigid air behind me. A little girl in a worn, woollen jumper sprinted by my side, taking three steps for every one of mine, and still struggling to keep up. Her dark skin glistened with sweat. A rucksack - which was filled to the point of bursting with her inventions and things she insisted that she could make ‘useful’ - bounced on her back, the contents clanging together with every stride. A few dreadlocks hung out of her now messy buns, one gathered on either side of her head. It was too dark to see her expression, but I could tell she was terrified from the whimpers she kept letting out. Hetta Abdi was always the worrier of the group, perhaps because she had inherited her godly father’s genius, and was more aware than the others. It seemed like her and I were the only ones sensing the sheer weight of the situation, as neither of the other two seemed too concerned.

The youngest one slept soundly in my arms, her snores echoing through the night as the rest of us ran for our lives. Every few yards the girl’s peaceful face was illuminated by another streetlamp, reminding me of the god who I was certain was her father, as he too loved nothing more than to nap in the most dire of circumstances. How he managed to stayed awake for long enough to conceive with a rich Singaporean businesswoman, I would never know (or want to find out). The girl’s expensive silk pyjamas were stained by mud and monster goop, and ripped at the hems and knees, which she assured me would make her mummy very upset. Even though my arms ached, I clutched her tighter. I couldn’t fail this innocent little girl, who’d known nothing but hardships in the guise of a golden life. She had told me (between naps) that she didn’t mind that I wouldn’t get it, as no one did, but sadly I knew exactly how Aria Chua felt.

The last girl was the feistiest, the alpha leader of her mismatched pack. She was the same age as her friends, about ten or eleven, but had the guts of a rigorously trained soldier on the battlefield. Except, her tactics boiled down to ‘smash everything, then run for your life’ which was not going to help us right now. Still, she insisted on running a few paces behind me so she could protect us if the ‘big doggy’ got any ideas - but how an eleven-year-old planned to beat a hellhound with a scraped and taped baseball bat, I had no clue, but I had learned not to question her. She reminded me of how Meg used to be at that age. All I could do was run as fast as I could and pray the hellhound didn’t gain any ground. Her choppy blonde hair flew wildly around her like a lions mane, her expression just as fierce. Her ratty street-urchin jacket billowed out behind her, and her torn jeans flapped in the wind. Yes, Eden Ross made me think of Meg in more ways than one.

The hound was gaining on us, its glowing eyes washing the pavement with light the colour of blood. Its paws churned up the tarmac. Once I felt its warm breath rustle my hair, I knew it was too late. 

For a split second, the moon was blocked out as the massive figure leaped over our heads. We skidded to a stop (Eden thumping into my legs and giving my thigh a painful whack with her baseball bat on instinct) as the creature landed in front of us with a mighty thud.

It snarled, foamy saliva dripping from its many-toothed maw. Its eyes flashed dangerously, its oily black ears pressed flat against its neck in aggression. It dug it’s claws into the pavement, ready to pounce at any second. Beside me, Hetta whimpered and clung to my peacoat. Eden growled and tensed, ready to swing her bat at the hellhound’s legs. Aria shifted in my arms, the commotion finally waking her up. I seized the opportunity and flung her down to sit at my feet next to Hetta, who grabbed her friend with her free arm, the other fist still tight around my coat. I pulled out a flashlight from my pocket. It  had been made specially for me as a parting gift from Harley, as I had broken his first present to me while fighting Commodus in my trials (a celestial bronze ukulele which I had loved very much). If he could make such amazing contraptions when he was eight, he could certainly make astounding things as a thirteen year old. I clicked the ‘on’ button three times in quick succession, and the flashlight began to extend and morph until I held a sleek, matt black bow in my hand, which I drew. An arrow matching the dark sheen of the bow pooled into existence from the arrow rest to the bowstring. 

The wretched creature did not seem to care. A small pointy stick? It probably thought. Ha! I eat those for supper! It stalked closer to us, unafraid and clearly drawing out the confrontation. It could kill us in seconds. We were no more than its source of entertainment. It was only a matter of time before it tired of this game of cat and mouse, and then we were toast. 

I loosed my arrow. The hellhound snapped it up in its mighty jaw and chomped down on it like the deadly projectile was a cheap chew toy. I felt my heart sank as I realised that I had no hope of defeating this thing. Even if I managed to land a hit on it, I knew my arrows would do little to no harm to it. The best I could do was be a distraction, and by the Styx, I was going to do my best. These little girls deserved a chance to grow up - as someone very close to me once told me, everything living deserves a chance to grow. 

I tightened my grip on my bow and stepped out in front of the kids.

“Mr Lester?” Hetta called uncertainly. “What are you-”

I glared over my shoulder and said in the most commanding tone I could muster: “Run.”

“What?!” Eden barked, her bat still raised. “We are not going to-”

The monster was on the move again. It bounded towards us, opening its jaws to reveal rows of glistening, jagged teeth washed red with blood. I turned back to ready myself for my final battle. 

“RUN!”

I charged the monster, hoping beyond all hope that the girls had heeded my warning and fled. I had no time to check. I loosed a volley of arrows, aiming for the monster’s eyes and joints. A dozen of them found their marks in the hellhound’s matted fur, but it did nothing. I ducked as it made a swipe at my head with its claws. I released more arrows into its side when the monster whipped around, whacking me with its tail in the process and violently knocking the wind from my lungs. My leg made a sick cracking noise on impact with the cold ground. I lay on my back, gasping for breath before rolling onto my front and forcing myself to rise to my knees. Those kids needed me to give them time to get away, or they’d be dog food. I’d grown to care for them over the week they’d spent at my apartment, like all the demigods who passed through. I let steely determination flood my veins as I stood, gripping my bow until my knuckles were white. My left leg was screaming from my rough landing, causing me to lean to the right to keep my balance. ‘Wobbly Young Adult’ isn't exactly a feared status, but nonetheless I tried my best to look territorial. Thanks my many hours spent with Artemis and her hunting dogs, I had a general gist of what actions portrayed which messages, though it had been a while since the last time I spoke wolf - since my last visit to Camp Jupiter, in fact. 

Bearing my teeth, I drew myself up to my full height and glared daggers right into the deathly red eyes of the hellhound in silent challenge. Like; “Hey, you just slapped me across the sidewalk, and I’m still standing. Leave my land, for there is no way you’re gonna top that.” 

Thankfully, the hound seemed unsure of me. It sniffed at the air around me, circling me, as if deciding whether he should heed my warning or pounce and be done with it. I stayed opposite him, carefully sidestepping with my bow drawn and my expression stony. The bitter night air hung still in suspense, like the whole city was waiting with baited breath. Suddenly, without warning, a high, shrill scream of pure fury rang out from behind the Hellhound, startling both of us out of our brief stalemate. We broke eye contact as a little girl of eleven bolted towards the dog, baseball bat in hand and wrath on her face. Her irises seemed to glow yellow in the light of the streetlamps, making her eyes look as if they were alight with rage at this creature’s intent to her friends. She swung her bat with all her might, yelling a war cry that resounded off the hard surfaces of the street. The bat connected with the hound’s leg with an almighty CRACK - and shattered to splinters.

The Hellhound did not like being whacked by eleven-year-olds.

Eden’s face dropped as the monster turned. It snarled and stalked threateningly towards her tiny frame. She backed away, terror evident in her movements as she dropped the remains of her bat with a clatter. The noise was enough to spur the hound into action. It pounced for Eden. The sheer thought of any of my girls being hurt was enough to make something snap - a click of power I hadn’t felt since my last days as a mortal quester. I remembered how I felt when I saw Frank (precious, adorable Frank who would now be around my age now - twenty-five - but I still had trouble imagining him as anything other than the huggable seventeen-year-old praetor I had left the last time I was at Camp Jupiter) burst into flame in the Caldecott Tunnel. I remembered the power I had instinctively called upon when I wrapped my hands around the throat of Emperor Commodus. I called on the same protective might that had made a half-divine crumble.

I let out a singular note: all my love, rage and fear compacted into a roar that cracked the pavement and shattered the bulbs of every streetlight in sight, making glass rain down around me. The hound shuddered and whimpered, it’s head was bowed and it clawed it it’s ears, trying to block out the sound. Eden covered her ears and curled into a ball, the noise thumping down on her even though it wasn’t aimed in her direction. The sight made me falter and stop, clamping my mouth shut should it let out another sound without permission. Everything was still once more - if only for that one second where I stood, glued to the cracked concrete, fearing the worst as I searched for signs that the demigod was okay. In that second, the Hellhound, though visibly weakened, turned from Eden to swipe at the source of the sound. 

Claws raked from my right abdomen to my left shoulder. Warm, red blood, a stark contrast to the cold, frigid night, seeped through my shirt. A pain as white hot as Hephaestus’s most scorching forge erupted from my entire torso. I toppled, my vision only staying clear enough for me to witness the Hellhound’s dusty demise before blurring completely. My heart thumped in my ears. I don’t know how long I lay there. Nothing disturbed me until those wailing sirens…