#The words “short” and “brief” are not in my vocabulary apparently

[sakurapika]

What are your all-time favorite outfits from Twisted Wonderland?

Hello @letterstoear, thank you for ask! I've had a lot of fun making this post, and I'm so sorry that it took forever to answer!

Every time I was certain I had my list narrowed down, I remembered another outfit I really liked. (Also, I'm a little bit biased, as you will see...haha). This time, I focused on event outfits to make it easier for myself. Maybe in the future I'll post my "reviews" on dorm uniforms or Halloween costumes.

I am always blown away by the the little details that Yana Toboso and the rest of the design team have added to each of characters' outfits, because they give some interesting insight to their personalities and backgrounds.

Without further ado, let's discuss some outfits! (Please note that there are spoilers for upcoming events from the JP server, as well as some groovy arts!)

My Favorite Twisted Wonderland Outfits

10. Floyd's Outdoor Wear (Vargas Camp)

Most of the outfits on my list are on the extravagant side. I recently bought a volume of Black Butler, where there was a note about how Yana Toboso loves to draw clothing, and it truly shows.

But in contrast to seeing our beloved characters in over-the-top costumes, it's refreshing to see them wearing casual outfits once in a while as well and see their individual, everyday styles.

I'll admit that I haven't played any of the Vargas Camp events, and have a grand total of zero (0) cards from this series. I'm not sure why; I always miss the event's runtime for some reason.

Still, I've always loved Floyd's little sling bag with the eel keychain, as well as the teal visor. The bright colors stand out and are appealing.

The whole outfit looks like something you could get from a store like Uniqlo, and sometimes it is nice to have that sort of realism in a magical game. He looks like an ordinary teenager I could find on the street. Except...if I did find Floyd on the street, I'd be running in the other direction. But that's not the main idea here.

9. Azul's Glorious Masquerade Outfit

At first, I sort of forgot that this SSR existed. When the PV for Glorious Masquerade came out, I was more focused on Malleus.

However, eventually, many people began to cosplay as GloMas Azul, and they all looked so amazing. I began to appreciate the outfit more after seeing people pose and dance in it. Azul also tends to have some of the best fanart, and fans have spared no expense when drawing him wearing this.

My favorite part of the outfit is his coat. I like the silhouette it creates with a high-waist belt, and the long coattails that resemble tentacles. The ruffles on his trousers are cute, too. I would buy a pair if I could. Unfortunately, it's hard to see these details on his in-game sprite.

As for his accessories, the pearls are so dramatic (and so very Azul). His round glasses are also cute, I hope he wears them again!

8. Idia's Suitor Suit

One look at Idia's Ghost Marriage outfit, and you can really tell that it was designed by Yana Toboso. His gloves, coat, and cravat make him look like he's in the Victorian Era. Also, doesn't he look sort of like Grelle from Black Butler?

Speaking of Grelle, Idia's outfit is meant to look more like funeral attire, between the long, black coat and the lilies pinned to his shoulder. There are also skulls hidden throughout his outfit, such as on his jacket chain and cufflinks. I was still new to TWST at the time, so I just thought that Idia liked gothic clothing. I didn't realize he was (at least in his mind) attending his own funeral!

Let's not forget his new hairstyle! This is one of Idia's first SSRs if I remember correctly, so it was exciting to see him with a ponytail.

My love for this outfit also comes from my love for the story associated with it. Fans have pointed out that Idia's "arranged marriage" with Eliza parallels the myth of Hades and Persephone. The design team and Yana were so clever for this.

I don't have this card, either, but I hope to pick him up one day!

7. Ortho's Fairy Gear

The Shroud brothers are luckyーthey are probably two of the characters with the most SSRs in the game.

That being said, we all have to agree that Ortho's fairy gear is one of the most unique and avant-garde cards in the game.

I really enjoy the white and gold color scheme in this event. His color-changing wings are stunning, and the piece covering his eyes makes him look very mysterious.

I thought this card was cool when I first saw it, but then I learned that Ortho's outfit and hair can turn pink, which is even better.

Every time I see his "pointe shoes," it makes me imagine Ortho and Idia trying to learn how to dance together in Idia's room, and Idia obsessively studying ballet costumes for his younger brother.

Yet again, I don't have this card, but my best friend does! At least I can admire him from her phone...

6. Silver's Rabbit Wear

There is no way that this outfit is just an R card! When this card was first advertised in one of the JR rail train stations, the pictures showed this card with Deuce's hometown in the background instead of the standard Diasomnia R background, so I thought that this card would at least be an SR. (Although I can't complain so much, because that means it's free!)

Silver is so princely. I am convinced that he can look good in anything. I am fond of pastel colors, and the pink/blue color scheme suits him, as the TWST version of Aurora. The bows may be silly, but I find them adorable.

Compared to the other boys in this event, Silver's outfit looks a little more like a soldier's (albeit a toy soldier's or a nutcracker's), which is a cool touch.

5. Deuce's Rabbit Wear

Deuce's hometown event was truly one of my favorite events that came out in the JP sever last year. Not only were some of my most favorite characters there, but they were dressed up in the most whimsical outfits possible. (And we got to meet Deuce's motherーshe's the coolest!)

Since Deuce is the main character of this event, his outfit bears the most resemblance to the white rabbit's in most classic illustrations, complete with a bow tie, top hat, and, of course, his pocket watch. His outfit has a blue color scheme. Like Azul in GloMas, Deuce also wears round glasses in his groovy art. Overall, it looks like the sweet ouji style, although I'm not very familiar with this sub-fashion. If anyone who is reading this has studied/worn this style of fashion, please let me know!

I used to play Love Nikki and Shining Nikki (two fashion-themed gacha games), which also featured lolita dresses inspired by Alice in Wonderland characters. For this reason, Deuce's outfit in particular feels very nostalgic to me.

4. Lilia's Right General Armor

Here's another departure from the cute pastel outfits...

Sleeping Beauty was one of my favorite Disney movies as a child. I always remembered Maleficent's "goons" as short, silly little creatures wearing simple green tunics.

So how on earth did we get to Right General Lilia Vanrouge?!

Seriously, I'm just stunned by how the artists looked at the source material and created something so radically, yet wonderfully, different.

I'm curious about the green stones (jades?) on his outfit--around his waist, there are several pieces attached to tassels, and he has two strapped to his right leg. The material matches the stone used for his weapon. Maybe it represents his status in Briar Valley. If you check his (unposed) sprite, you can also see that he is wearing something around his waist that looks like folded bat wings.

Like everyone else, I'm obsessed with his long hairーit makes him look so formidable, especially with that hood. My friends and I like to joke that his ponytail makes him look like a character in a Chinese martial arts drama.

Again, the story associated with this card made me love it even more. Few books have made me cry as much as Book 7 of TWST.

3. Malleus' Glorious Masquerade Outfit

While Sleeping Beauty was my favorite movie as a young child, when I got older, I began to love The Hunchback of Notre Dame. It was only natural for this outfit to be among my favorites for this reason.

There are so many details here. The feathered hat. The sheer sleeves. The golden embroidery. The split cape. It's honestly overwhelming to take in at once.

I can say that my favorite detail is his green earrings. They really bring out his eye color, and the PV made them so sparkly.

In addition, everyone I've ever seen who has cosplayed as GloMas Malleus or has drawn fanart of him has increased my appreciation of this outfit.

[Now for some very spoiler-y stuff] The fact that this event came just before the release of Chapter 7 is worth noting. Doesn't it feel a bit tragic that just before Malleus' overblot, we have a chance to see him wearing an outfit that makes him look especially like his mother, having fun and being the star at the masquerade? And what about the feathers on his shouldersーdo they hint at another side of his family? There's so much foreshadowing and mystery going on, and nothing is more suitable for the occasion than masquerade attire.

2. Kalim's New Year Attire

I've already rambled about how sentimental this outfit is to me in a previous post, but in summary: New Year is my favorite holiday, and the New Year's Sale event was the first event I "seriously" participated in. Kalim looks excessively cute and festive in his kimono, and every time I see this card, I feel nostalgic and in the holiday mood.

1. (Tied) Epel's Applepom Outfit and Riddle's Beach Outfit

I'm really sorry, Epel and Riddle are my favorite characters, and in the end, I refuse to chose between them. They're like my younger brothers! I try to collect all of their cards, so I pay attention to their outfits the most, and picking only one outfit for each character was a challenge in itself.

My favorite part of Epel's Applepom outfit is his cloak. It looks so fluffy and warm. When you set him as your home screen character, you also have the option to "swap looks" and see his outfit without the cloak--the apple embroidery on the rest of his outfit is very detailed. Many fans have mentioned that the outfits people wear in Harveston resemble traditional Scandinavian clothing, which is really cool!

The little apple slices on his cap are everything.

And I'm always happy to see characters in different hairstyles, such as Epel's little ponytail.

One of my headcanons is that you're allowed to call Epel cute, but only when he wears this specific outfit, because he takes it as a complement to his culture.

As for Riddle, we're all so used to seeing him wearing formal suits. It's so nice to see him loosening up for once. He looks so happy, now that he has the chance to see the ocean for the first time!

I also happened to be on vacation at the beach around the time this event came out, so it felt like a gift.

I have to laugh a little, because there are so many flowers on his outfit. Even Jack pointed it out in the story. But he looks so cute!

I suppose we have to discuss the elephant in the room. My friend saw it before me, so she spammed me with messages along the lines of "RIDDLE IS WEARING A CROP TOP!!! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!!" and I naturally thought she was pranking me. But lo and behold, it's the truth. I like to headcanon that among the rest of the cast in this event, everyone has made an unspoken mutual agreement not to mention it. This Victorian child has already been through enough, and not a word must reach Mrs. Rosehearts.

Thank you once again for the ask! For anyone who read all of this, what do you think about these outfits, and which ones in the game are your favorite?

[notepadsandtealeaves]

Damian Wayne || Kiss Kiss, Fall in Love 🍃

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT || 18+ ONLY ||

|| ao3 version | series m.list | batboys tag | main blog ||

When Love said, “Fool, can looks thy wishes crown? // Time past comes not again.” –Stolen Pleasure || W. Drummond

↠ A love story as told through kisses…

↠ Requested By: Nobody, I just had an ~i d e a~, Mr. Krabs ↠ Reader Gender: Neutral ↠ Content Type: SFW fluff, with a teeny-tiny sprinkle of angst. ((but my blog’s 18+ if minors want to consume my sfw stuff while still respecting my wishes of them staying out of this space, they can head over to my AO3)) ↠ CWs for mentions of a grave and bloody injury (Damian receiving, unsurprisingly); it’s not super graphic, just a brief mention of blood, really, but still… But don’t worry tho, nobody’s getting dead, not on my watch lol… ↠ As with every x Reader fic I write for him, Damian is a full ass adult (i.e. 18 or older) here. ↠ Betas? Lmao, nah. ↠ Total WC: 3k~ ((after my edits it is no longer exactly 3k and that makes me unreasonably sad lmao))

Seasonal depression (which can totally go choke on a dick, btw) has made writing more chore than fun these past couple of weeks, but I’m slowly shaking it off. Posts’ll probably still be sporadic, but hey—I’m trying lol.

Anyways!

Here, have some cute Dami fluff. This shit’s good for the soul, I swear.

My crops? Watered. Edges? Laid. Bills? Paid.

He’s got the power~ lmao…

🍃 First Kiss

Practice Makes Perfect || WC: 400~

“I… I do not–”

Damian lets out a short, low grow the moment the word passes through his lips. I do not, I cannot—statements such as these have no place in his vocabulary, not when they’re being applied to himself, anyway. They smack of incompetence, and he’s always hated the thought of being less than in any arena.

And yet standing here before you now, hands slick with a light sheen of sweat, heart racing, and face thoroughly flushed—none of which has been induced by something acceptable like training or his nightly duties—there’s a regrettably undeniable truth to this shameful admittance. And you certainly deserve the truth, not that he can tell you the whole of things at this juncture, but that only makes it all the more imperative that he gives you what he can now.

And so he takes a deep breath and tries again.

“I am sorry, beloved, but I am unfortunately bereft of experience with such matters.”

For your part you just give a breathy little laugh as you cup cheeks that are overly warm to the touch. “Hey, Dami, babe, that’s okay. No, really,” you insist when he cuts his eyes over at you with a grunt, “I, uhh… I’m more than happy to be your first.”

Your words leave you just as flustered as him, not that you weren’t before, but it’s a more apparent showing now. He can feel the slight tremble in your fingers where they curl against his skin, can see the nerves that turn the curve of your smile into something adorably uncertain, can almost swear he can hear your heart beating in time with the hummingbird pace of his own.

He has no idea if he’s likewise your first, but it doesn’t matter, not really, not when he plans on being the last person you ever kiss in this lifetime.

This resolve puts the steel back in his spine, and when he finally kisses you it’s everything you expect from Damian Wayne.

The first brush of his lips is tentative, not out of fear, but reverence. The gentle pressure lingers undemanding, with the hands that had moved to cradle your own brushing calloused thumbs over their backs. When he pulls away some odd seconds later he watches with thinly veiled amusement as a cute little lovesick grin slowly spreads across your face.

“That, um, that was really good—for a first attempt, I mean.” Your amendment leaves him rolling his eyes.

“Thank you, but I am sure that I can do better.”

“Oh?”

“Mm. Another attempt is in order, I think.”

“Well, practice does make perfect—or so the saying goes…”

🍃 One Hundredth Kiss

Something Worth Talking About || WC: ~1.2k

Life, Damian has found, is all about balance.

There are various proven scientific laws that talk about actions and reactions, cause and effect, so he’s very much aware of the principles as they stand. However, that does not mean that he appreciates the force in all its many forms—especially when it leads to having dozens upon dozens of cameras and microphones shoved into his face.

He is a Wayne, and the Waynes are an affluent family, and because of this the media—as well as the public at large—seems to think that that gives them some sort of right to his life.

Cause and effect, actions and reactions… Newton had claimed that, despite being opposite, the latter was supposed to be equal in proportion to the former, and yet the young man cannot help but to think that this isn’t at all an appropriate response to one’s net worth.

Your being beside him is yet another direct result of the family name. Naturally being his partner means enduring the plethora of events that various social obligations require him to attend—or it would if he’d not done everything in his power to keep you from being dragged into the more… unfortunately public (read: annoying) aspects of his life.

Despite his status he’s managed to keep that which is most important to him (i.e. you) away from the prying eyes and gaping maws of the press, always citing your safety as well as your peace of mind (nevermind his own) as the driving reasons. Vale, Ryder, and all their ilk are far too vicious of creatures for him to ever willingly allow them near someone so precious as you, but, vigilantism aside, experience has long since taught him that it is only ever a matter of time before that which is hidden comes to light—oftentimes with it kicking and screaming all the while. Such a scenario is not one that he wants either of you to endure any more than he wants the exposure, but unfortunately there’s little else for it.

What started as a potential eventuality has morphed into a looming inevitability that grows closer with every passing day, and is the sole reason that you both find yourselves in this rather undesirable situation.

The day itself is nice at least, being unusually sunny for mid-autumn Gotham, with a crisp breeze catching the lighter materials that some have chosen to garb themselves in for this affair. The shivering that inevitably accompanies such folly leaves him narrowing his eyes even as he silently sighs in resignation. That so many whom share his tax bracket choose fashion over function will never cease to amaze him, especially when they can have both, but such is the ‘privilege’ of wealth, he supposes. Their continued need to have all eyes on them is being put to good use this time around, at least.

This particular luncheon is Foundation hosted, and meant to raise funds for the latest disaster to strike the cursed city. It’s a common enough happening—both the tragedy and the outpouring of funds that ever follows—that the pomp is expected. Anyone who is supposedly worth talking about knows to make an appearance and drop a stack or two, so even if it were not hosted by the family, at least one Wayne would have to be in attendance. And when all things are considered, your making your debut as a couple will probably go over smoother at a more understated event such as this one.

When Damian had volunteered to be the family representative for the function it raised eyebrows and questions both, but everyone had been wise enough to keep the bulk of things behind their teeth—well, if you don’t count Grayson spraying anyone unfortunate enough to be across from him in a fine layer of whatever sugary swill he had been drinking in a reaction more fit for a slapstick comedy.

The pair of you have the well-wishes and prayers of the whole of the Wayne clan, and having been set upon nearly from the second you’d exited the escort vehicle you certainly need them. Thankfully all of the reporters’ inquiries are expected and thusly have been thoroughly prepared for, with that which is not being pointedly ignored. For his part Damian answers with the bland aplomb that he’s become famous for, while you bring your own flavor of charisma to the table. By the time you finally make it to the building’s entrance he’s sure that he’ll have any number of bruises on his hand from those occasions when your nerves had gotten the better of you, but overall you both manage to make it through the trying ordeal unscathed.

You let out a shaky sigh of a laugh as you do your best to ignore the cries of “Just one more picture of the beautiful couple, please!” and the like, and even in your clearly flustered state Damian cannot help but to think that you’re the most exquisite thing he’s ever had the honor of laying eyes on.

You’re a vision in your chosen ensemble, with the colors and cut of it accentuating that distinct brand of beauty that no one aside from you has ever been able to capture. With your pretty eyes blown wide, and lips slightly parted around a breath meant to steady there’s a certain delicacy about you, one that demands his attention, his protection. Even with the ever circling vultures that are the paparazzi at your backs and the whole of Gotham’s high society waiting for you just beyond the gilded doors he finds himself giving in to a desire that would usually go ignored until you’re both safely within the confines of some private space.

The kiss that he presses against the plush of your mouth is a sweet and gentle thing, one that gives everything but asks for so little in return. He half expects you to pull away, but you cannot seem to stop yourself from melting into the ministration, with your hand coming up to cradle the one that cups your cheek. The pair of you linger with closed eyes, shutting out the world that wants far more than its due in lieu of drinking from the well of your shared love. When you finally, reluctantly, pull apart it’s as if the bubble that you’d created for yourselves bursts, and the universe in all its inherent chaos once again makes itself known with a clamor. Unsurprisingly the cameras’ caught the whole of the brief display, and their owners have been left frenzied because of it.

The breath that you take this time is just as unsteady as the last, though you don’t seem nearly as shaken as before despite the heat he can feel against his palm. Your lips pull off into a small, shy smile as you ask, “Um, begging your pardon, sir, but what even was that?”

The man gives a half shrug as his hand drops, taking yours along with it in a tangle of fingers. “If they must talk, why not give them something worth talking about?”

🍃 Vigilante Kiss

Humanity, and Other Fragile Things || WC: 700~

|| One last CW for that bloody, life threatening injury I talked about…

You were never supposed to find out this way.

Damian had a plan, or at least the makings of one. There were still certain kinks that definitely needed to be worked out, contingencies to be made should you prove to be less than accepting of his nightly activities, and answers that he needed to be able to provide when you inevitably asked their corresponding questions. And that is saying nothing about the risks involved. If it were just his own safety on the line he would not be nearly so wary, but it is not just him—it is him, and you, and everybody else that he holds dear in this unfairly dangerous and spiteful world…

So yes, he has naturally put a fair bit of thought into how to reveal his vigilante persona to you, but never once in all of the eventualities that he has contemplated did he ever think he’d be doing so while nearly at death’s door.

Thinking on it now, it really should have made the list of possibilities. Were he the man that he was before meeting you he would’ve blamed hubris—that all-consuming belief that he was untouchable, his skills beyond reproach and more than enough to fell anyone foolhardy enough to stand against him—but loving you has long since shown him that he is indeed human and thusly fallible. And from that fallibility a different type of delusion was born, one that would not allow him to entertain the thought of a world in which the two of you did not exist concurrently.

Reality, however, clearly has decreed it so.

This is why he lifts his hand away from the wound that oozes blood in time with the ever slowing beat of his heart, uncaring of the way the warm, vicious liquid smears across his face as he peels the domino away from his eyes. The recognition that dawns in your own is a brief flash, a comet’s streak across an otherwise overcast sky that’s instantly eclipsed by an all-consuming dread. Your cries of “No-no-NO!” do not cease, but rather decrease in volume as he beckons you closer to whisper the refrain that has been repeating in his head since his injury had taken him to his knees all those minutes—Seconds? Hours?—ago:

“I love you, my darling. Please live, and do not dwell—if not for you, then for me. Please.”

It takes a fair bit of effort to utter the deceptively short declaration turned plea, and more still to bring his lips up to meet yours in what he’s sure will be his parting kiss…

But despite the improbability of it all, it would seem as if the universe has deemed its quota of suffering filled, if only for tonight.

He knows that it cannot be the result of some cosmic absolution. The things that he has done, the atrocities gleefully committed before he knew to feel shame—contempt, for both himself and those who set him about those horrid tasks��will never be blotted out no matter how many nights he gives over to his commission. But you… He can certainly see a scenario where whatever governing forces there are out there look far more kindly on a person like you. You’ve always been his better half in truth, radiating kindness and warmth and all things good and wondrous. Balance is usually the order of the day, but he fully believes that someone like you has the ability to turn even the most concrete of laws on their head.

In truth this is the only explanation that he can find for his waking up in the Cave’s medbay instead of whatever void or otherly dimension it is that awaits a being such as he once death finally has its due.

But in the end the whys matter little, he supposes. What’s truly important is the fact that he is here, with you—beautiful, perfect you—and that you’re both very much alive and well enough. His physical injuries will take time to heal, and the shared psychological wound longer still. Neither process will be especially pleasant to endure, but he’s more than willing to whether all of this and more if it means he gets to share a hundred thousand more kisses, and the lifetime that inevitably accompanies them, with you.

🍃 Forever Kiss

(Let Me Be) Selfish || WC: 600~

This is beyond foolish, Damian thinks, to be jealous of my own damned dog–

–and yet here he is, looking on as you and Titus both roll about on the floor like you’re barely even half your actual ages.

The Great Dane soon gives up on trying to wrestle the rope toy out of your hand, choosing instead to go straight for the source. He settles the whole of his heft onto your torso as he attacks you with a flurry of doggy kisses, and you squeal loudly, the sound somewhat choked by the laughs that are still pouring forth from your throat. You redirect the canine’s head with a deft precision, easily rolling him off of you before rising to your knees and giving him a few solid pats. You coo out a string of gibbered praise as you cup his face and scratch around his jowls, and Titus being the spoiled (and treacherous) beast that he is revels in your affections with contented pants and a lolling tongue.

Normally such a sight would leave Damian’s heart feeling overly full—and in truth it does, even now, when he is in the thick of his own admittedly childish feelings—but given how little you’ve seen of each other lately, well…

Is it really so wrong for him to want the whole of your attention focused solely on him? That he does not want to share you, with anyone or anything, anytime soon?

He doesn’t think so, but even if it is he honestly cannot bring himself to care overmuch. He has always been a bit selfish when it comes to the things that he holds dearest, and you?

To call you a prized possession would be a disservice of the highest order. You are not a thing to be obtained and hidden away, and to reduce you to such would be a sin beyond repentance. You’re so much more than what words could ever hope to convey, though the one that he finds to be closest to the mark is simply love.

You are love.

Love at its very core, the essence of the sentiment, and the fullness thereof. You embody every hallmark of the feeling in excess, an almost superfluous showing, but no—there can be no real waste when it comes to such matters. And that you share all of this with him so willingly…

No, he really does not think that he’s at fault for wanting to hoard your affections away.

And so he enters the fray, bringing the hound to heel even as he pulls you to your feet. There’s a glow about you brought on from the brief bit of play, one that leaves your eyes shining and your cheeks warm under his calloused palms. It doesn’t take long for his desire to be mirrored on your face, with the smile you’d been giving him turning into a bitten lip and your gaze growing heady under heavy lids. You both give in to the magnetic-like pull of attraction as your lips meet with a sigh.

His greed, need, sees Damian licking into your mouth just as soon as he’s able. Tongues tangle and glide while lips suckle and part around sounds of pleasure that neither of you could ever hope to contain. It is only when your lungs make their own needs known that the pair of you finally part. The hands that had long since wandered to your waist pull you in closer as he moves to brace his forehead against yours. As he listens to the little lovesick giggles that sound in between the soft pants of your breath, reveling in the way it all breaks against his skin to spread warmth throughout the whole of his being, he knows.

This is what he wants, these bastions of reprieve and all the storms that surround them, with you, forever…

Taglist: ((Empty, atm. Send me a message if ya wanna change that lol.))

[obxparadise]

Cop Car

JJ Maybank x Reader 

Word count: 1,354

~A fic based on the song Cop Car by Keith Urban/Sam Hunt~ 

A/N: If you like this, leave a comment! 

*GIF is not mine. Credit goes to the owner*

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Man, they weren't playin They sure put those cuffs on quick You tried to sweet talk 'em They didn't fall for it, but I did

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Regret was the only word that wasn’t apart of JJ’s vocabulary. Whatever he did, he did with purpose. With reason. With pride. And he never regretted a damn thing, even after some Kook had called the cops on him for pulling a gun on Topper at the Boneyard.

JJ didn’t even have the chance to run as he’d been surrounded by three different police vehicles. Trying to fight law enforcement wasn’t the brightest idea either, as he now was sporting a busted lip, bruised ribs, and a torn white shirt.

In the back of the cop car, JJ sat with his head against the driver’s seat headrest, his blonde hair sticking out in every which way. The cops had done a number on him, and every time the car drove over a bump in the road, the pain in JJ’s ribs would start up again. Biting his lip, he tried to redirect his thoughts away from the pain.

“Where’d you get the gun, son?” asked Officer Shoupe. Chuckling softly to himself, JJ shook his head. There was no way in hell he would open his mouth. The cops in the OBX couldn’t be trusted. JJ learned that the hard way. “I said, where did you get the gun?”

“I have the right to remain silent,” JJ reminded, lips pulling into a smirk as Shoupe and his partner, Deputy Thomas shared an irritated look. “Ain’t that what you told me?”

“You keep actin’ out, you’ll end up just like your daddy,” Thomas remarked, hoping to rile up the sixteen-year-old boy. It didn’t though. After enduring years of abuse from his father, JJ became desensitized to comments about his dad. Letting things roll off his shoulders was better than dwelling on feelings and trying to make sense of them, at least in JJ’s mind.

“Hold on, Thomas,” Shoupe said, quieting his partner as he turned up the volume on the radio. Leaning forward, JJ could only hear bits of the dispatcher.

Robbery at Denny’s…unarmed female…seventeen…black tank top, white shorts…

Shoupe and Thomas eyed each other momentarily before pulling into the Denny’s parking lot which they had been conveniently driving by. Shoupe put the car in park before turning around, “This ain’t gonna take long. Don’t try anything stupid.”

JJ snickered as the two officers stepped out of the vehicle. “No promises, buddy.”

Not even five minutes later, JJ’s head perked up at the commotion out front of Denny’s. Almost instantly, his cheeks flushed a deep red as Deputy Thomas pushed you into the car, slamming the door behind him. JJ happily drank in the sight of you, slightly embarrassed that his cargo shorts had constricted. “Well, well, well, what do we have here? What’s your name, baby?”

Clenching your jaw, you eyed the smirking blonde beside you. JJ Maybank. The devilishly handsome Pogue with anger management problems and daddy issues. He was notorious for smoking weed, fishing, and stealing. What kind of trouble had he gotten himself into this time?

“Y/N,” Not wanting to make small talk with a known criminal, you leaned forward toward Deputy Thomas. “Officer, is this really necessary?”

“You stole from the store,” Thomas answered.

“It was a candy bar,” you retorted, wriggling your wrists in the handcuffs. “And I said I was going to pay for it, I just didn’t have enough cash.”

“Then you shouldn’t have taken it,” JJ piped up, flashing a bright smile. “If you can’t do the time, don’t do the crime, princess.”

“It was for a child,” you said, teeth gritted together. “I was waiting for my brother to bring me a dollar.” As both officers ignored you, you leaned in closer, softening your voice. “Look, I really am sorry, okay? The little girl was upset and I just wanted to see her smile. This is all just one big misunderstanding.”

JJ eyed you curiously when you shot a wink his way. For a brief moment, his pulse quickened. Were they actually going to let you go?

“Sorry, kid,” Shoupe replied. Groaning, you sat back against the seat, your attempt at sweet-talking the officers one big failure.

“I’ll be damned,” JJ laughed, causing you to let out your own. “You had me fooled.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

But there was somethin' bout the way The blue lights were shinin' Bringing out the freedom in your eyes

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

JJ was captivated. The whole way to the station, his eyes stayed glued to your face, which was solemnly pressed up against the window. The black bandana around your head kept the curls away from your cheeks, giving JJ the chance to appreciate your beauty. You were stunning, no doubt about that, but there was something about the way the bright blue cop lights brought out a twinkle in your eyes that kept JJ staring. He could almost see through you, into your free-spirited soul. You weren’t a Pogue, but your personality didn’t scream Kook either. You were somewhere in the middle, and JJ was overcome with a sudden itch to get to know you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We talked, we laughed We sat real close By the time they let us go I was already gone

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Wait, you brought a gun to a party?” You asked, rolling your eyes as JJ gave you a proud nod. “Are you insane?”

“Insane is my middle name,” JJ gloated. “And besides, the douche had it coming. He tried to drown my best friend. That shit won’t fly with me. And apparently,” JJ nodded toward the two officers, “Bringing a gun to a party doesn’t exactly fly with asshole 1 and 2 up front either or else I wouldn’t be here.”

You giggled as Shoupe and Thomas exchanged irritated glances, clearly fed up with JJ’s antics. Turning back to JJ, you noticed he wasn’t trying to hide his staring. “What? Do I have something on my face?”

“Not my lips, sadly,” Warmth crept up your neck as JJ laughed, running his tongue along his lower lip. “Sorry, it’s just…I can’t help but think you and I come from two different worlds. Here I am being arrested for possession of a weapon, and you’re being arrested for having a heart of gold.”

Your heart skipped a beat as JJ offered a shy smile. Boldly, you scooted closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder. He didn’t seem to mind though, as his cheek lay against the top of your head, staying in that position until you arrived at the police district.

You were let go almost immediately, but JJ had a harder time of convincing the officers to let him go. After twenty minutes, JJ was able to talk himself out of jail time. How he did it, he was clueless, but he wasn’t going to dwell on it. Instead, he ran out of the district as fast as he could, almost colliding with you.

“They let you go?” Grinning, JJ grabbed you in a hug. “How in the hell did you pull that off?”

JJ set you down before massaging his wrists. “Don’t ask questions, baby, just be glad I did.”

“Well,” you said, hands slapping against your thighs, “It’s been quite an adventure, but it looks like it’s the end for us.”

Pushing his hands deep in his pockets, JJ stepped forward, a gleam in his eyes. “It doesn’t have to be.”

“What?” your brows furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

“I want to see you again,” JJ admitted. He was smitten with you, and if he were being honest, he didn’t want the night to end. Your smile was beautiful, your laugh was contagious, and you had a sense of freedom that drew JJ closer to you. “What do you say?”

With a new sense of confidence, you grabbed JJ’s hand, pressing a quick kiss to his bruised cheek. Smirking, you looked at the troubled boy who, if you learned anything about him that night, was a sweetheart under all the rough layers. “What kind of trouble are we getting into next?” 

[rohad93]

Worth the Fight: Ch8

For the first time in a long time, Amity is excited.

More than excited, but she isn’t sure how else to describe it, even with her quite extended vocabulary. To finally have a chance at something she’d wanted to do all her life and had never had a chance to do until now? There are few words to describe the elation she feels.

She and Luz had spent a little longer than they should have at the market a few days ago picking out some clothes that Luz deemed suitable for her to train in, but then they had to hurry back to the manor because it was getting late and if they didn’t Bump would certainly stop her and there was no way to explain the clothes she’d bought. She liked Bump, he was a good teacher, wise, and knowledgeable. That being said, his loyalties were first and foremost to her parents and Amity could not trust him with her secrets, not like she could Lilith, which made it hard to navigate her situation at home at times.

It had been Lilith that had inspired her desire to learn to fight, well, her and ‘Azura, the good knight’ the heroine of her favorite book.

When Amity had gone to her asking to learn the art of sword fighting Lilith had been more than amenable to the idea, but her parents refused, insisting that she do what they had hired her to do, teach her enchantment magic, and as much as Lilith had wanted to teach her, she had acquiesced to her parent’s wishes, much to Amity’s disappointment.

She felt a twinge at the thought of her teacher. Lilith had been gone for over a year now, sent across the sea to fight at the Emperor’s order. There had been no word from her in months and some days Amity wondered if the raven-haired knight was even still alive; she missed her.

Amity shook her head, today wasn’t the day for this, she needed to stay focussed. That was what Lilith would want her to do.

Luz was going to start her training today. They would have started already, but Bump had pulled Luz to help oversee some deliveries being made from the estate and she’d been away all day for the last two days, but she was back now and they could begin.

She carefully concealed her training clothes in her dress, the only useful thing about one of the puffy, ugly, hunter green monstrosities her mother had given her, and one she never wore if she could help it, before leaving the room.

She hurried down the hall, Luz said she would be on gate duty whenever she was ready.

Just as she was about to hit the first stair, a pair of synced voices called out to her.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry today, Mittens?”

Amity groaned to herself before she glanced over her shoulder where her brother and sister were standing, grinning at her from the doorways of their bedrooms.

“It’s a nice day, I’m going out for a walk,” she grunted.

“Well, that sounds like a lovely idea!” Emira grinned.

“Indeed it does, dear sister, we’ll join you.” Edric’s grin matched his twins’.

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Amity grumbled as the twins came to stand on either side of her.

“Aw, come on, Mittens, we haven’t done anything together in so long,” Emira lamented as she leaned her head on Amity’s.

“No,” Amity scowled.

“Oh, please, we just want to spend some time with our little sister,” Edric baby talked to her as he leaned on her shoulder, making her growl and elbow him in the stomach. He grunted and backed off.

Amity was steaming inside, there was no way she was going to be able to shake the two now, she’d been waiting for days already!

She took a deep breath, she could wait another day, Luz wasn’t going anywhere.

“Fine,” she bit out and the twins grinned as they walked down the steps.

When they approached, Luz looked up and the confusion that broke out across her face as Amity came walking out of the house with two slightly older people that bore a striking resemblance to Amity, as well as each other, was apparent.

“Luz, would you escort us on a walk down to the coast?” she turned to the human guard as they passed through the gate, she tried to send Luz some kind of look with her eyes, trying to convey to her not to mention their training.

“Of course, Lady Blight.” Luz nodded, glancing between the three.

She’d heard of the Blight twins, of course, Edric and Emira, but this was the first time Luz had actually seen them in person. She hadn’t been in the manor since the first day when she’d met Bump.

“Oh, I’ve never seen you before,” Emira said, eyeing Luz up and down and the young knight’s face turned pink at the suggestive smile that had slid onto the older Blight’s face.

“Uhh…” Luz blinked.

“Luz is new,” Amity grumbled, rolling her eyes at her sister's flirtatiousness. She did this every time they got a new guard around their age, which wasn’t often, but it had still happened several times. Once, a young man had to be released from their employ because Emira had flirted with him and he had been convinced she was in love with him and begun following her around and serenading her at her window at night.

Luz just looked embarrassed, thankfully.

“Edric, Emira!” They all turned as Bump stood on the front steps of the manor, looking quite annoyed and the twins grimaced. “A word if you’d please…,” the old witch practically growled, arms folded behind his back and eyes narrowed at the two of them.

“Well, shit…,” Edric mumbled under his breath as they two moved back toward the doors.

Amity caught Luz’s eye and jerked her head in a very clear message.

‘Let’s go’

Luz nodded and gave a brief wave to Jerbo as they hurried down the road away from Blight manor before Bump finished reaming out the twins for whatever they had done.

They walked quickly until they were out of sight of the manor and Amity sighed in relief. She loved her siblings, annoying as they could be the majority of the time, but she was not in the mood for them, not today.

“So, those were the infamous twins the other guards talked about,” Luz hummed as they walked and Amity rolled her eyes.

“Yes, my brother and sister, Edric and Emira,” she sniffed.

“So I heard,” Luz chuckled. “What did they do to get Sir Bump all riled up?” she asked.

“I couldn’t begin to guess, the twins like to play ‘jokes’, which sometimes come back to bite them.” She shook her head. Last week they were confined to their rooms when they poured an elixir into the stew being made for dinner that made it congeal into an abomination, which the house staff had to chase down,” Amity said and Luz snorted. “The halls still vaguely smell like stewed lamb,” she sighed. “I’m just glad Bump showed up when he did, they were insisting on joining me for my ‘walk’,” she grumbled.

“You don't want to include them in your training?” Luz chuckled at the sour face Amity made. “Why not?” she asked.

Amity opened her mouth to speak but stopped short, jaw snapping back shut with a quiet click. She had just been about to explain her often strained relationship with her siblings when she remembered just who she was speaking to. Luz, who was still all but a stranger to her, an acquaintance, really. Why was she telling her any of this?

She just shrugged in response.

“We have a tenuous relationship at times,” is all she said and Luz waited for more but it seems that’s all she was going to say on the matter.

Luz frowned, she could feel the sudden shift in the atmosphere. They had been having a rather pleasant conversation when Amity had suddenly clammed up and Luz wondered if she had said something to offend her, but after quickly thinking over the conversation she couldn’t find fault in anything she said. She tried a different tack.

“So, are you ready?” Luz asked her as she led them to a secluded spot she had scouted out for them to train at, and Amity’s mood seemed to do another complete one-eighty as she smiled up at her, almost giddy, and Luz couldn’t help but think how pretty the noblewoman was when she smiled as opposed to scowling, as was so often the case.

“I’m more than ready,” Amity asserted, which made Luz grin.

They walked for a good fifteen minutes before they reached the spot.

A clearing, situated on a low ridge by the shore that hung out over the sand on one side and was mostly surrounded by large rocks on the other that would hide them from view as if the woods weren’t already doing so.

“We’ll train here, it’s away from everything and secluded so no one should see us.” She swept an arm around at the space and Amity nodded as she took it all in.

“Alright, I’m going to change…” Amity pulled the folded up clothes they had bought in the market out of her skirts and looked up to find Luz still standing there, looking at her curiously and her face flared hot. “Do you mind?” she asked, though it certainly didn’t sound like a question.

“No...” Luz shook her head innocently and Amity gave her a long look that made realization flash across her face. “Oh! Uh, right!” she spun around to face the woods and hide her red face. “Sorry! I just… with traveling on the road with my mentor the last five years… there was never much privacy to be had so we kinda just did our own things, ya know?” Luz scratched the back of her head sheepishly as she listened to the sound of rustling fabric.

“It’s fine…,” Amity’s voice is low and obviously embarrassed.

Luz anxiously tapped a booted foot in the dirt before Amity finally called out that she was ready and the human turned around to appraise her new student.

Amity was fidgeting with her clothes, she wasn’t used to such attire.

The snug, gray pants and leather boots Luz had insisted on felt strange on her person, but especially the double-breasted black jacket with the dark green piping and high collar that fit snugly around her neck and chest. When she moved the jacket's tails hit the back of her thighs with every step. She adjusted the magenta armband she had added around her left bicep, a small pop of her own.

Everything was new and strange, snug, but nothing was uncomfortable, just different.

“Well, you look ready to train,” Luz appraised. “For the most part…” Luz reached down to her waist and untied the second sword hanging at her waist and tossed the sheathed blade to Amity. “That’s my old training sword, it’s what you’ll be using for the foreseeable future,” she explained as Amity wrapped a hand around the blade’s hilt and pulled it free of its sheath, testing its weight in her hand.

“Training blade, hmm?” she mumbled, running a finger over the edge. “It’s dull.” Amity frowned

“Hey, it took me two years of training before Eda even gave me that,” Luz chuckled. “There's no jumping straight to the front of the line here, Lady Blight.”

Amity blinked at that. A knight named Eda, she’d heard that name before, but from where escapes her at the moment, there’s a nagging little twinge of familiarity in the back of her mind, but she doesn’t have time for that right now, they have training to do, she can puzzle it out later.

“What’s first?” Amity blinked up at her, as she tied the sheath to her belt and took hold of the blade again, ready.

“Well, first of all, that’s not how you hold it.” Luz walked over and wrapped her hands around Amity’s adjusting them on the hilt, warm, rough fingers moving her own hands into the correct places and once she was done Amity realized how much more natural her new grip felt.

“There…” Luz took a step back. Her stance was still wonky, but it wasn’t important at the moment. “Now try to hit me,” she ordered.

“What?!” Amity’s head shot up at that to look at Luz’s grinning face.

“Try to hit me,” she repeated.

“I’m not going to hit you with a sword!” She lowered the blade tip to the ground.

“I need to see where you're at and where we need to work, you won’t hurt me, I promise, now swing at me!” Luz again commanded.

“No!” Amity frowned. Even if the blade was dull, swinging it at her could still cause harm.

Luz frowned, tapping her foot before she got an idea, Amity had proven from the moment they met that she had a bit of a temper, and she was about to receive a first-hand lesson in one of the first lessons Eda had ever given her; how to exploit your opponent's obvious weaknesses’.

Luz walked a few steps over to the trees and scanned the ground before picking up a stick about the same length of her sword and walking back over, brandishing the stick like a weapon.

“Hit. Me.” she punctuated each statement with a poke of the stick to Amity’s stomach.

“Stop, I’m not going to hit you!” Amity grumbled, trying to swat the stick away, but Luz was much faster.

“Hit me,” she repeated stabbing harder still at Amity, who winced as the stick stuck her in the ribs.

“Luz!” she snarled, batting at the stick and missing every time as Luz circled around her poking her mercilessly harder and harder as she repeated her command to strike her.

Amity could feel her temper rising by a few more degrees every time Luz jabbed her with her stick. Her jaw clenched and her grip on the hilt of the training blade tightened. She knew what Luz was doing and she was not going to fall for it, there had to be a safer way to do this than what Luz was suggesting.

Luz could see it in her face, Amity was breaking, her temper was just about to boil over in a frothing rage with a little more prodding.

On the one hand, she was rather touched that Amity didn’t want to hurt her, but on the other, she found it laughable that she thought she could.

“Hit me, Blight!” Luz jabbed her particularly hard in the back with the tip of her stick and knew immediately that she had broken through Amity's patience.

With a strangled, rage-filled noise, Amity spun around, swinging the blade as though it were a bat.

Luz hopped back out of range, a grin pulling at her lips as Amity rushed after her, swinging haphazardly and snarling at her.

Luz could only grin to herself as she danced in and out of range, avoiding every one of Amity’s wild swings and intermittently poking her with the stick, just to add fuel to the fire when it looked like it was starting to dwindle. This was a test of stamina after all.

After a good five minutes of leading Amity around the clearing with her taunting grin and quick pokes with a stick, the noble stood panting, the sword resting against the ground as she tried to get her breath back and looking pissed off.

“Well, I can tell you that stamina is definitely going to need to be worked on,” Luz chuckled as she walked over to her.

“That’s not going to be a quick process is it?" Amity huffed, looking up at Luz as sweat dripped down her brow. Black might have been a poor choice in attire for training outside at the height of summer. The human crossed her arms and shook her head.

“No, you’ll just have to build it up as we go, but it means that our sessions won’t be very long until you start building up your endurance, if you overwork you’ll end up hurt,” Luz warned as she came to a stop in front of Amity, stick resting on her shoulder. “There are ways to help it along. We need to run.” she grinned.

“Run?” Amity grimaced at that and Luz hummed an affirmative.

“Yup, let’s go!” she whooped and took off, sliding down the ridge to the sandy beach below and tossing her stick aside.

“W-wait, Luz!” She sheathed her sword and quickly followed after her as she jogged down the beach with Amity trailing behind as they kicked up a cloud of sand with their boots. Luz was wearing a chainmail shirt beneath her tunic and still outrunning the noble by a longshot.

Her lungs burned as she tried to keep up with Luz as they dashed across the hot beach beneath the blazing sun, she was sure she was sweating to death inside the jacket.

So maybe there was more to learning how to use a sword than she initially thought, but Amity was nothing if not tenacious and resolved to all tasks she set herself to, and this one would be no different.

She wasn’t sure how long Luz made her chase her up and down the beach but it had to be at least an hour judging from the position of the sun overhead.

Luz turned around, running backward now to face Amity who was dragging through the sand at a slow trot rather than a run. Luz was exhausted herself but she did her best not to let it show, she had to put on a good face for her new student after all!

“Come on, Lady Blight!” Luz called, stressing the title. “Is that all you have?” She grinned and Amity scowled at her opening her mouth to deliver a scathing retort when the heel of Luz’s boot caught on a piece of driftwood and she went tumbling backward in the sand

“Ay, meirda!” she yelped as she rolled backward flinging up a wave of sand before rolling to a stop on her stomach.

Amity didn’t have the energy or breath to laugh, but that didn’t stop her from grinning wickedly as the woman rolled through the sand before finally landing face-down, flat on her stomach.

Luz grumbled as she pushed herself up onto her elbows and sputtered, spitting out sand as Amity came to a stop in front of her.

“Well, that was embarrassing…,” she mumbled, face pink as she looked up at Amity, who was panting, red-faced, but grinning at her. “Uh, let’s take a break!” she offered with a huff, getting her own breath back as she pushed herself up to stand, brushing off as much sand as she could as she walked over to the water and washed the remaining granules off her face and hands before plopping herself back down onto her butt in the hot sand, facing the sea.

Amity flopped down next to her bonelessly, cupping her hands in the water and washing the sweat from her face. The salty taste of the ocean water was indistinguishable from the sweat that had been dripping down her face for the past hour, but it was cool on her flushed skin and she sighed in relief. When it didn’t feel like she was going to pass out from the heat she looked up at the waves and the clear blue sky, it really was a beautiful day today.

Luz was contenting herself with digging through the sand till her fingers brushed something hard hidden among the granules and dug her fingers harder into the ground before lifting a whole shell free from its sandy prison. She brushed the remaining grains of sand off as she admired the shiny pink, and white surface, it’s soft spirals were perfectly smooth under her fingers.

“I love the ocean,” Luz said aloud as she turned the shell over in her hand.

“Hm, why’s that, seashells?” Amity cocked a brow at the human as she leaned back on her hands.

“Well, that’s one reason, yeah,” she chuckled. “It’s just so different from anywhere else, like a whole ‘nother world, with things you can’t find anywhere else.” She held the shell out to Amity who took it between her fingers. “I grew up isolated deep in the woods, I never saw the ocean till I started traveling with Eda five years ago.

“That’s your mentor, right?” Amity asked, turning the smooth shell over in her fingers. Luz nodded.

“Yup!” Luz smiled and Amity hummed but they said nothing more for a while.

“Alright!” Luz slapped her knees before she hauled herself to her feet and offered a hand to Amity, who took it and yelped as Luz practically jerked her off the ground effortlessly. “Ah, sorry!” she smiled apologetically. “I’m going to teach you some basic strikes.” she declared and Amity’s exhaustion vanished at that.

Luz pulled her own blade from its sheath, it made a quiet scraping sound as she pulled the blade free and demonstrated a few basic strikes. Which they practiced for a few hours, Luz using her own sword to block Amity’s strikes but nothing more. She corrected her footwork and form several times and Amity realized for all the books she had read over the years about the subject, and the knights she had watched compete in tourney’s, it was nothing compared to doing it herself.

They practiced till Amity’s hands were sore and her exhaustion returned with a vengeance. All she wanted to do was lay down and sleep. Luz seemed to pick up on her ever more sluggish movements before she called for an end to training, she was getting tired herself, though she blamed that on the chainmail she was still becoming accustomed to beneath her tunic.

“Let’s call it a day," she finally declared and Amity almost cried in relief, but she didn’t, though only just. She wanted to sit but feared she wouldn't be able to get back up if she did.

“When I get a chance I’ll set up some training dummies for you to practice on.” Luz scratched her chin as she looked around the clearing thoughtfully.

“Will we train here again tomorrow?” Amity asked her after a moment, sheathing the training blade.

“Oh, after how today went, we won’t be training tomorrow,” Luz said, looking at her.

Amity straightened, feeling indignation well up within her. Did Luz think because of her poor running performance today that she couldn’t do it, was she already rescinding her offer to teach her?

“No, I can do it!” Amity insisted. “Perhaps today had a bit of a rough start, but I can do this!” she insisted. Luz blinked wide, brown eyes at her.

“No, Amity, you don’t…”

“Just let me prove it!” Amity cut her off and Luz frowned. Amity obviously didn’t understand what Luz was trying to say to her. Now she understood why Eda had taught her with a ‘show’, rather than ‘tell’, style. Some things were just easier learned by experience, and though Luz didn’t really want to do that per se, it wasn’t going to stop what was going to happen tomorrow, regardless of whether or not she turned it into a teachable moment, so she might as well.

“Okay, we train tomorrow; no matter what,” she finished and it had a slightly ominous tone to it, but Amity got what she wanted and was pleased, so she nodded. Luz just shook her head knowingly.

When they returned to the manor she and Luz parted ways at the front gate and Amity hurried upstairs to her room, hand on the knob when a voice made her stop.

“Well, look who finally came home.”

“I can’t believe you ditched us.”

She glanced over her shoulder at her siblings, standing there looking at her from their own bedrooms, annoyed.

“You two seemed to have your hands full with Sir Bump,” she smirked and Edric snorted.

“He has no sense of humor,” The only blight son grumbled, crossing his arms and leaning on the doorframe.

“What happened to you, I thought you were going for a walk?” Emira cocked her head as she looked at her sister's disheveled appearance. Her mint green hair was slightly matted and damp while her dress was wrinkled with bits of grass stuck to it, but she looked overall pleased before the two of them had gotten her attention.

“I… fell,” she finally said and the twins glanced at each other.

“You fell,” Emira repeated, crossing her arms and giving her sister a long look.

“Yes, down a hill…” Was that really the best she could come up with? She scolded herself. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m tired.” With that she disappeared into her room, leaving her sibling standing in the hall in silence.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Edric asked, turning to his twin.

“That Mittens is shagging the cute new guard?” Emira asked and Edric blinked wide eyes at her.

“Actually, I was gonna say I think she’s getting more clumsy, but that makes way more sense!” He laughed. “Didn’t think she had it in her… no wonder she didn’t want us to come along…”

“Too bad… I thought she was cute…,” Emira pouted.

“You could always try anyway?” Edric suggested, looking at her from across the hall. “I mean, I’m not saying you should and it would certainly be a shit thing to do, but you could.” He shrugged. Emira scoffed.

“What kind of sister do you take me for, to try and steal a woman from my own baby sister?” She shot him a scandalized look that made him laugh.

“I was just saying!”

~ ~

Amity quickly pulled off her dress, training pants still on beneath. The jacket would have been visible beneath the dress, so it had to come off.

Just as she went to pull them off and she felt something in the pocket and dug her hand in to wrap around something smooth and warm before she pulled out the pink and white shell Luz had given her. She ran her fingers over the smooth surface. The pinks are bright against the off white and she admired it for a long moment before setting it on the table near her bed and finished changing out of the dirty clothes.

[cespool]

So ever since Jello revealed the whole concept of Epiphanies and the like, I couldn’t help but imagine how the main cast of EE had theirs. I ended up writing and drawing how I think Sylvie’s Epiphany went. (I might do the others, no promises though)

The ficlet is under the cut!

For as long as Sylvie could remember, he had always been accompanied by a certain comforting feeling. One that made him think of fluffy clouds and warm blankets, of brilliant orange and cool turquoise, of heavy eyes and wispy yawns. One that always made him sleepy and drowsy as a kid if he basked in it for too long.

One of his nannies used to tease him and call him Sleepvester because according to her, he was the “sleepiest Sleepyhead she had ever seen”. Apparently he would always fall asleep in the most random positions and was constantly tired even if he just came out of a 3 hour nap.

It had never occurred to his many nannies or his parents that this sleepiness was caused by an Epithet. Specifically his Epithet. Dr. & Dr. Ashling assumed that he was a Mundie, like they were.

Sylvie had just turned 4 when he discovered Epithets and in extension his Epithet. When he was in his Vocabulary lessons with his tutor, he had always taken a certain liking to the word sleep and its synonyms. So when Marie, who was his English tutor and primary nanny at that time, left to run a brief errand, Sylvie due to his boredom and curiosity picked up the dictionary she left behind and scanned through the pages until he saw the word Sleep.

He didn’t know why but a smile found its way on his face. Something about that word felt right… but not right enough. Sylvie was looking for another word, similar to Sleep but not the same. He was looking for – what did Marie call them again?- Oh! a synonym. Luckily Sylvie knew just how to find those, after all Marie taught him well!

He easily found the little line under the definition of Sleep that held all its synonyms. His eyes skimmed through the list and stumbled upon the word, Drowsy. He felt something click inside of him. Something warm and cozy bloomed in his chest and it made him grin.

“Drowsy” He tested the word and the familiar feeling of comfort rushed through him as a sudden burst of a strange orange dust exploded all around him.

Surrounded by the dust, Sylvie felt weirdly at home. The dust felt as if the feeling was personified, like it was an actual solid thing, lulling him into the cozy and comforting unconsciousness. He yawned as his eyes grew heavier and heavier but before he could fall asleep, Marie came back from the store.

“Sylvester! What is this-“ Marie’s worried ramble was cut off by her own yawn. Sylvie was immediately alert and all the sleepiness he felt abruptly vanishing along with the dust.

Marie’s gaze locked on the dictionary Sylvie accidentally dropped in his drowsy state and her eyes widened at the realization.

“Marie! I’m sorry! I d-“ Sylvie’s apologizes were cut short when suddenly Marie lifted him up and swung him around.

“OH MY GOD SYLVIE YOU HAVE AN EPITHET! CONGRATS BUD!” She drew him closer and peppered him with kisses causing the young boy to giggle.

“Marie… stop it!” He squealed between giggles. When Marie complied, he asked, “Why are you congratulating me? What’s an epithet anyway?”

“Your parents never told you what an epithet is?” Marie asked incredulously. It wasn’t unheard of for parents to explain the concept of Epithets as common bedtime stories – in fact, prior to Sylvester, Marie had never encountered a child above the age of 3 who didn’t know what an epithet was.

Sylvie shook his head, “Mommy and Daddy are too busy with work, I shouldn’t be disturbing them with unimportant stuff!”

The way Sylvie immediately responded in such a memorized fashion, broke Marie’s heart.  

“Well,” She shifted her hold on Sylvie in to a more comfortable position, “Guess we have to cancel all of today’s lessons because we’re going to spend this whole afternoon talking about this wonderful, magical thing called Epithets!”

You have @wenskiii​ to blame/thank for the illustration btw, I rambled to her about my headcanons and she drew the most adorable Sylvies that inspired me so much I had to draw them in my style.

And if you somehow wanna know how I think the other Epiphanies went down, feel free to ask! Believe me when I say I am more than willing to yell about anything EE related - whether its theories, headcanons, metas, as long as its EE related I’m down! 

[whitesparrows97]

Stuck With You

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

Genre: Neighbour AU

Summary: Unfortunately, you can’t choose your neighbors. If you could, you would have exchanged the neighbor above you a long time ago. If on top of that, you suddenly get stuck with him in a confined space, Friday night could only get better.

Warnings: Angst, panic attacks, mentions of claustrophobia and agoraphobia

Word Count: 4.3K

(gif by: btsofficial on giphy.com)

Your gaze glided up to the ceiling and you could not suppress the annoyed sigh. A few seconds earlier you had flinched again at the loud noise above you. With a click of your tongue you pulled the sleeve of your sweater over your fingertips and wiped up the small puddle of tea that you had spilled on the desk in surprise.

Every day it was the same. You didn’t know what your neighbour was doing above you in his apartment, but sometimes you had the feeling that a herd of elephants was testing how high they could jump, only to come back down loudly on the floor.

The thought wasn’t even that far-fetched. You couldn’t imagine that a single person could be that loud. But you were proven wrong day in, day out. 

Bang!

There it was again. What on earth was he doing on a Thursday at just before midnight? If he was at least loud at normal hours, it wouldn’t bother you half as much. You were out most of the time anyway, but when you came home in the evening, you just wanted to have your peace.

Peace and quiet you haven’t had for about half a year, because at that time the nice older lady had moved out to move into assisted living. Her replacement was a young man, with whom you had already had to deal with several times.

Most of the time your encounters consisted of you going upstairs after a few hours of being annoyed and knocking on his door to complain. At first you had tried the nice way. He probably didn’t know how poorly soundproofed the walls in this house were and he didn’t realize that you could hear everything he was doing in his apartment.

You remembered that he had apologized directly and had been really surprised. On the way back down to your apartment you had even thought that you might ask him for a date. To be honest, you were surprised how handsome he had been when he opened the door.

That euphoria had lasted until the very next evening. It was like you’d never been up there. For a moment you even wondered if you’d imagined talking to him. But you didn’t see the point of trying to have another conversation with him not even twenty-four hours later. At that time, you still had the hope that he would at least respect the rest periods. Now you laughed at your own naivety.

He had not even told you what was so important that he had to do it half the night. Actually you didn’t care either, but at some point you started to make up your own explanation. You hoped very much that you were wrong and that there was neither a serial killer living above you who buried his bodies in the walls nor a fanatic who had to move his furniture around every night. Nor the herd of elephants your neighbor only let out of their cages at night.

Although, of the three, the fanatical furniture lover was your preferred choice…

You did not understand how some people were so inconsiderate and apparently assumed to be alone in this world. At some point you had stopped counting how many times you had been up there and had given up. If he still didn’t understand it on the fifth, sixth, seventh time, he wouldn’t suddenly show insight on the eighth time. 

But he had always been very nice, you had to give him credit for that. Yet you were just annoyed by him. Your gaze glided to the small display in the corner of your monitor and you had to sigh. 

12:10. And probably still no peace in sight. No sooner had this thought shot into your head than it rumbled over you again. Oh, maybe your neighbor had a problem with a poltergeist, too. 

You shook your head once briefly to dispel this thought and tried to clear your mind. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Deep breath in and out. Inhale, exhale–

Bang!

That’s enough. Enough was enough. You got up from your desk and put on your old sneakers, which you could just slip into without opening your shoelaces. Before you left the apartment, you took a quick look in the big mirror in the hall. Not particularly charming, but presentable. After all, you had already made yourself ready for bed and only wanted to watch one episode of your favourite TV show.

With tired steps you trudged the few steps to the floor above you and came to a halt at the door of your favourite neighbour. You knocked, and while you waited, you wondered if he could guess that you were at his door every time. Did you perhaps have a special way of knocking at the door by which he recognized you? Or was it simply because you were probably the only one in the house who complained to him about the noise?

A few seconds later you were still standing in front of a closed door, staring at the yellowed white of the wood. Funny, that was new, that he completely ignored you now. You tried knocking again and when nothing happened again after a short wait, you rang the bell. You breathed a sigh of relief when a moment later you heard footsteps in the apartment and the key turning in the lock. 

„Hey,” you greeted your neighbour, who already nodded at you, although you had hardly said anything.

��Let me guess, I was too loud again?” he said with a little smile and leaned against the door with one arm.

You just gave him back a small and quick smile.

“Okay, I’ll keep it down,” he placated you. Apparently, he saw that you weren’t in a joking mood today. “I promise, Y/N,” he added and gave you a big smile. Automatically your gaze glided to his eyes, which became cute little crescents when he laughed. 

You deleted the word cute directly from your vocabulary if it was related to your neighbour. That your heart made a little jump when he said your name, you also ignored skillfully.

“Then please stick with it, Jimin,” you told him. “It’s during the week and already after midnight. I have to get up early in the morning and I can’t sleep with all that noise.”

The smile on the young man’s face disappeared as quickly as it had come. “Okay, got it,” he said and nodded. You nodded goodbye to him once more and went back to your apartment. You knew that this silence would last ten, maybe twenty minutes at most. Maybe enough time to fall asleep if you gave up the episode of your series. 

When you fell into your bed a little later and it was still quiet, you were a little surprised, but you drifted off to sleep so quickly that you didn’t have time to worry about it.

The next morning you were more relaxed than you’d been in a long time. You didn’t know why, but you weren’t complaining. On the contrary, the day at your part-time job in the café went by so fast this time and when you went home you even had a lot of energy left. Despite the double shift your boss had put you on because Nathalie cancelled at the last minute. But you weren’t complaining about that either. You could use the extra money.

On the way home you got something to eat because you knew that you wouldn’t feel like cooking despite all that energy. You were looking forward to make yourself comfortable on your little couch and to end the evening with a nice movie and a glass of wine. 

With a slight jump in your walk you covered the last few meters to your apartment building and unlocked the door. Just a few more steps and you would be home and finally start your weekend. The elevator doors opened with a soft ‘ping’ and you stepped into the small room. With your free hand you pressed the button on floor 11, while the other hand clasped the two handles of the thin plastic bag tighter for fear of dropping the food so close to your destination.

The doors were about to slide shut again before a voice shouted “Wait!” from the hallway.

Quickly you pressed the button that made the doors slide open again and Jimin dashed into the elevator. He was a little out of breath when he thanked you. He leaned over to you and pressed the button on floor 12, and you couldn’t help but notice his stunning scent. God, how could anyone smell that good after such a long day?

But who knows, maybe he freshly got out of the shower and just took out the trash or something? That would at least explain why he could afford to be up so late.

Silently you stood next to each other while the elevator doors closed again and the elevator started moving. You didn’t know if you should say anything, and if so, what exactly. But what you could say for sure was that it was getting stuffier and stuffier in the small square room and the atmosphere became increasingly uncomfortable as the elevator went up.

Jimin cleared his throat next to you. “I’m really sorry I’m always so loud,” he apologized and your head shot in his direction in surprise. It was not the first time you saw Jimin in the hallway, but that he apologized so seriously was new.

“No problem, I know you’re not doing it on purpose,” you dismissed his apology with a gesture of your hand. But did you actually know that? You knew he was obviously sorry, or at least he claimed to be. However, that didn’t change the fact that he was still loud.

“I’m dancing,” blurted it out of him, and he looked at you with big eyes. “You can probably hear me practicing my choreography,” he continued as you looked at him questioningly. “I listen to the music mostly through Bluetooth headphones so I don’t disturb you with it and I try to be really quiet. But a lot of dance steps require a lot of energy–”

His explanation was abruptly interrupted when the elevator suddenly came to a halt with a loud crunch. You looked at the display above the buttons indicating the floor, but the red numbers only showed two letters: ER. Error. Great.

“Probably just a brief malfunction,” Jimin said after a short silence. “But perhaps we should still press the emergency button?”

You nodded and pressed the button with the yellow bell. Three seconds, as the instruction on the sign below explained. A loud ringing was heard, which only stopped when you removed your finger. A short crackling sound came from the loudspeaker, then only static was heard.

“Is that normal?” you asked, looking over your shoulder at Jimin.

He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know, I’ve never been stuck in an elevator before.” He also tried to press the button, but even with him, the loudspeaker only crunched and cracked and apparently no connection to the technician was made. “But I’m sure people will realize soon that the elevator doesn’t work.”

“I hope so,” you replied, sinking to the dirty ground. The fact that right in front of your feet was a dried-up puddle of indefinable liquid and a crumpled handkerchief was lying there, was of little interest to you at that moment. Your heart was racing and you felt the nausea rising inside you.

“Hey, are you okay?” Jimin asked anxiously and knelt down in front of you.

You wiped your sweaty hands on your jeans and nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine.” That your voice sounded flat and thin, you hardly noticed. Your attention was on the silver walls of the elevator, which framed you from all sides. The glaring LED light blinded you and you squinted your eyes as you looked back down to the floor.

Jimin also sat down on the floor and leaned his back against the elevator wall next to you, so that you sat at right angles to each other. You had your legs pulled up and there wouldn’t even be enough room if you stretched them out like Jimin. In fact, the elevator was just big enough for him to stretch them out at all. His feet took up the full width of the elevator and already hit the opposite side.

“There’s nothing better to do on a Friday night,” Jimin joked, trying to lighten the mood a bit. “Were you planning on going out tonight to party or meet some friends?”

You were irritated by all his questions and his talk. You didn’t know why, but it made you even more nervous and overwhelmed you. “No,” you therefore answered succinctly, hoping that this would have settled the matter for Jimin.

Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to. “So you prefer to spend Friday nights in the comfort of your own home? Interesting,” he continued, raising one eyebrow. You didn’t even look at him, but smoothed the plastic on the handles, which were a little wrinkled from carrying and from the weight of the contents. It was as if you had tunnel vision, there was only the white of the plastic on the black of your jeans. Everything else you had blanked out.

“Did I do anything to you?” Jimin’s voice brought you back to the present. You winced and looked up. Jimin looked at you with a mixture of anger and insecurity. “I know I’m loud a lot, but I’ve apologized every time and explained to you why. I really try to be considerate and I have even accepted the fact that I am no longer the best in my class, because I can no longer practice as much. I don’t expect you to like me, but I thought we were both mature enough that we could talk neutrally. At least now that we’re both stuck in an elevator together.”

Jimin had finished his short tirade and you could only stare at him in confusion. “What?” you asked, dumbfounded. You felt like all your synapses in your head were just reconnecting. You didn’t know how to talk or form words or even whole sentences. You didn’t know how to breathe or how to swallow. The oppressive feeling in your chest was getting stronger and stronger and you felt like your heart was about to collapse as fast as it was beating.

“Are you really all right, Y/N? You’re really pale,” you heard Jimin’s voice, but it sounded far away. As if Jimin was no longer in the elevator and as if he had left you here alone. Alone with the fear of never leaving this square hell of metal again.

You felt warm hands on yours, and you flinched again. “Calm down, Y/N. It’s all right,” he spoke to you in a soft voice, but you still kept your eyes closed. You knew that if you opened them now the tears would just pour out of them.

Instead, you shook your head. It wouldn’t be all right if you were locked up here for hours, maybe even days. It felt like the air in the small room was getting even stickier and your breathing accelerated in an attempt to pump more oxygen into your lungs.

You felt a hand on your cheek trying to lift your head a little bit, but you felt like you were frozen, every muscle in your body tensed to the utmost.

“Y/N, please look at me,” you heard Jimin say and in all the confusion of thoughts and feelings, you felt his warm breath on your face. “Yes, just like that. I am here,” he said and only now did you realize that you had followed his request and opened your eyes.

Immediately the tears made their way down your cheeks and your upper body was shaken by sobs. “Shh,” Jimin tried to calm you down and gently stroked your cheeks to catch the tears.

“I-I have the f-feeling… t-to suffocate,” you somehow managed to get out and you were glad you had managed to explain your fear to Jimin. As calmly as he dealt with the whole situation, he didn’t seem to understand the seriousness of the situation, that you were really suffocating.

“Try to concentrate on your breathing,” he said, his hands still holding your face.

“I c-can’t,” you pushed out, squinting your eyes again.

“Yes, you can,” Jimin disagreed with you. “You’re breathing too much oxygen and hyperventilating. Here,” he explained to you and suddenly a hand was gone from your face. A moment later you felt it on your stomach. “You feel my hand, right?” You nodded. “Very good, now try to push it forward with your breathing.”

You exhaled once more before trying to push his hand forward the next time you inhaled. “Perfect, just like that,” he praised you and you continued to concentrate on his hand, which was lying on your stomach with a slight pressure. You repeated this a few times until you noticed how the haze seemed to lift from your head. Your heartbeat had also calmed down again.

Jimin kept his hand on your belly and as you opened your eyes carefully, you realized what position you and Jimin were in. He knelt right beside you while one hand gently stroked your cheek. His face was not even a hand’s length away from you and you could even see the slight stubble of his beard on his chin.

As your gaze fell back up, you took care not to stop at his full, pink lips, which he had opened slightly and which only invited you to press your lips onto them.

Wherever the oxygen had gone, your brain had apparently received too little of it. You cleared your throat once and turned your head to the side while you felt the heat rise to your cheeks.

“Are you feeling better?” Jimin asked, releasing his hand from your cheek, and as you nodded, the hand on your belly also left its place. To your surprise, however, Jimin didn’t back off, but sat down right next to you so that your shoulders touched.

He reached out a hand to you and you were overwhelmed for a moment and didn’t know what to do with it. Jimin did not hesitate and took your free hand with his and interlocked your fingers. Only now did you notice that your other hand was still clutching the handles of the plastic bag. You loosened the grip a little bit and your fingers ached slightly.

“I used to have panic attacks a lot,” Jimin said softly and you looked up at him. His gaze was directed at something in front of him, as if he was remembering that time. “Unfortunately, most of the time, I had no one to help me get through them.”

“I’m sorry,” you replied, squeezing his hand tenderly once. You could hardly express in words how grateful you were that Jimin had been with you and helped you. And also that he gave you so much support now. It was good to feel him beside you, to hold his hand.

He looked at you, and for a moment, everything was quiet. Only the buzzing of the LED lamps and the noise of the loudspeaker could be heard. Then he smiled at you. It was the smile you liked so much on him and it seemed as if there was only you. At least in that one moment.

“I’m glad I’m stuck here with you,” he confessed, eliciting a little laugh from you.

“I’m sure of it,” you returned ironically. “Who wouldn’t want to be stuck in a confined space with someone who immediately panics and starts crying?” You snorted. “And with someone who always gets upset at you because you’re too loud.”

Jimin nudged you with his shoulder. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You have a good right for silence and I’ll stick to the rest periods from now on,” he promised you, “I also saw an advertising from a small rehearsal room near here and from the free times, that would fit perfectly.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. “Really? But you don’t have to do that, Jimin. I don’t want you out late at night, and a rehearsal space like this must be super expensive…” You didn’t want to say it, but you felt guilty. Sure, you often get upset with him when he was loud and you could barely concentrate. But that didn’t make him a bad person. His reactions and actions in the last few minutes had proven the opposite.

Jimin dismissed your concerns with a wave of his hand. “The rehearsal space would actually be paid for by my university, and it’s not that much. I would only have it from late at night to early in the morning and I’m sure it would be empty otherwise. Not all dancers are so crazy and practice at night after they’ve practiced all day.” He threw you a quick smile. “And the room’s just down the street, so it doesn’t really get any more perfect than that.”

You gave a short, satisfied ‘Hm’ of yourself and pondered over your thoughts for a moment. “Thank you, Jimin,” you said, then looked up at him again. “I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t been here.”

Jimin paused to think before answering, “You probably would have passed out and then woken up again at some point.”

“Thanks for the honest answer,” you laughed, then you punched him in the chest with your intertwined hands. “But this was the better alternative.”

“Absolutely,” he agreed with you and looked you in the eye again. Damn, it was like his lips were magnetic, the way your eyes were drawn to them. His eyes were such a dark brown that they almost blended with his pupils. Your eyes glided over his delicate nose and finally reached his full lips.

The lips on which a little grin now spread. You looked up again and there was a mischievous sparkle in his eyes, too. You rolled your eyes and looked to the side again. You had hoped not to have been too obvious and to catch just a glimpse. Of course, Jimin had noticed it right away. How could he not, when you were sitting inches apart?

You were surprised when you felt a hand on your cheek that turned your head back in his direction. You looked at Jimin curiously, but then you saw his gaze wandering down as well, lying on your lips. The unspoken question was in the air and you answered it by leaning forward and pressing your lips against his.

His full lips received you and immediately a feeling of warmth spread within you. “Do you want to keep clutching the bag,” Jimin muttered into the kiss, and you both had to laugh. 

“Sorry,” you said, released the handles and ran your fingers through his soft hair instead. His tongue ran tenderly over your lips and you willingly opened them. Jimin did not hesitate and explored your mouth with his tongue while he tried to pull you closer with his hand. You were more or less almost lying on top of him, your hands still clasped together while the others explored each other’s bodies. 

“God,” Jimin sighed as you took a short breath, “I’ve dreamed of this moment since the first time you stood at my door.”

“Is that why you were always so loud?” you returned with a grin, and Jimin returned it.

“You’ve seen right through me,” he said playfully. “By the way, in movies they always show that a kiss can also help you when hyperventilating.”

You raised one eyebrow skeptically. “You had the chance to test it earlier,” you gave back just as playfully and threw your leg over his legs so that you sat on his lap. “Do you think there are cameras installed here?”

“As if, have you looked at the building?” Jimin laughed. “The elevator doesn’t work, so I don’t think the landlord cares about cameras.”

“Good to know,” you whispered and pressed your lips demandingly on his again. A second later you both flinched when suddenly a loud noise filled the elevator. It took a moment before you identified the source. Your heads turned to the small loudspeaker from which the static noise could no longer be heard, but instead a dial tone, like a telephone.

A moment later, a friendly sounding female voice made its way to you in the elevator. “You have dialed the emergency number. Unfortunately we have only now been put through to you. What elevator are you in?”

Jimin had regained his composure more quickly and explained to the woman which street and which building you were in. She collected all the data she needed and promised to send a technician as soon as possible.

“How long will that take?” Jimin asked. 

The woman on the other end of the line was quiet for a moment, as if she was sorry to deliver the message. “It will take at least an hour for the technician to get to you. On top of that, there’s the time it takes them to see exactly what’s wrong with the elevator so they can let you out. But it shouldn’t take longer than two hours,” she explained.

“Okay, great, thanks a lot,” Jimin said goodbye, and shortly after that, a crackling sound could be heard before the old familiar static noise took over again.

Your eyes fell on Jimin, who grinned at you. “What?” you asked and could not help smiling.

“Then we’ll have at least an hour to ourselves,” he said, and wrapped his arms around you to pull you closer and press his lips back onto yours.

Hi! I hope you enjoyed this little short story! To be honest, I’m finding it very hard to find anything good in my stories right now. I know that I’m a very self-critical person, but at the moment it’s getting a bit out of hand. So if you wonder why I publish so few new stories - that’s the reason (the same is true for chapter 17 of A Thousand Springs). Nevertheless, I hope you enjoyed the story and have a nice rest of the week! ♥️

[minervahopebeyond]

Blood Petals.

Hello everyone! I really hope you like this one💕 Let me know what you think!

Ps. I’ve checked everything as always but I’m sorry if there are vocabulary or grammatical errors.

Chapter 12: I await a guardian.

The following week started with the amazing news that Weasley was the Gryffindor keeper. Apparently McLaggen had only missed one while his friend blocked all the rings.

Potter and him had the arrange that the Patronus classes were on Fridays because it was the most weekendly thing they could manage between quidditch practice on Saturdays and chess on Sundays.

He was rather exited for the first match of the season. It was always a pleasure to play against Potter,but this year in particular he was sure that Slytherin would get the cup. Maybe it was this feeling he had that this was his last year playing quidditch, he had nothing else to lose, he would catch the snitch first on that match. He was determined to do so.

Draco was eating breakfast with Blase and Pansy that Friday morning.

" So, you ditch us again for the gryffindors." Draco rolled his eyes at the boy.

"You don't even spend time with us anymore! Just if Weasley is busy." Pansy whined.

That was a lie, actually. Draco spent every meal with them, and because their schedules matched all the classes they were, pretty much, together all the time. Except on weekends. And to be fair, it wasn't like they were making plans or something. With everything that was happening, both of them seemed to be kind of down lately and most of the nights they would go to bed early. The blond boy didn't know what to do to make them feel better, and he also needed to have fun, Weasley was fun so he spent his only free day of the week with him.

"Hogsmade weekend is near and I promess you I will only spend it with you. I will not even look at something red and gold. But today I have something important. I can't say what but trust me, I wouldn't be spending Friday night with Potter if I had another choice." He said in a calm voice, and put his best puppy eyed look on his face.

That seemed to work, Blaise sighed and nodded while Pansy looked a little annoyed but didn't say anything. Theodore knew about his feeling for the green eyed boy... Did that mean that they were so obvious that his two best friends knew as well? They had never said anything about it, but sometimes they would get really quiet when he mentioned Potter.

He looked over at the Gryffindor table. The dark haired boy was annoyed, maybe a little sad. Then the boy saw something that made him got up abruptly from where he was, excusing himself to his friends. When Draco looked over to find what was the thing that had upset Potter, he found it rather quickly. Ginevra was kissing Thomas with a smile on his face.

Draco started to feel the strong tickles, the bad ones. The need to cough was unbearable. One, two, three.. He is in love with her, and when she realizes that he feels that way for her, they are going to be very happy together. Potter would be officially part of the Weasley family, and they are going to have lots of redhead children. She can give him a family in every sense of the word, you can't. The air was not getting in. His brain kept on listing all the reasons why the green eyed boy didn't belong with him. The coughing fit started.

He never had one of those in front of someone other than the gryffindors, and he needed to get the hell out of sight before he coughed petals full of blood in front of everyone. Draco started to get up from the table while he was still coughing, covering his mouth.

" Dragon, Merlin, we are going to see madam Pomfrey." Blaise was trying to grabb by the shoulders but the blond boy moved away from him. He was still coughing.

"Draco, stop it. You clearly have something!" Pansy hissed at him.

He shook his head as he kept on coughing and grabbing his schoolbag. Then he left the Great Hall as quiqly as he could.

As soon as he crossed the door he ran towards an empty hallway, and let himself cough the fucking petals in peace. His lungs were burning, it was like the petals were cutting their way out, burning the walls that were keeping them in.

One by one they fell in front of him. His eyes were full of tears from the pain. When the need to cough stopped, Draco counted them. Six yellow petals laid in front of him. This was getting worst. Fuck.

"Malfoy? Are you alright?" He heard from behind him. He quickly vanished the petals and cleaned his mouth with the back of his hand. When he tried to speak his voice came out rough.

" Yes... It's over." He looked over at Potter. "How long have you been standing there?"

The boy shook his head, he had a worried look on his face.

" Not much... I heard you coughing and came, you already had stopped when I got here."

The blond boy nodded. Good. He didn't see anything, otherwise he would be throwing a fit about it.

"Well, I'll see you after classes." He said a he grabbed his bag and turned away.

"What? Malfoy that was not normal. You been coughing for months now."

Draco shook his head and smiled a little.

"It's a nervous thing. It happens when my thoughts get stuck on something."

That was... A very short way to describe the Hanahaki. It wasn't an exactly false statement but he did leave out some major characteristics, like the flowers in his lungs, for example. But the truth was that he only had coughing fits when his feeling were to much, when his brain got stuck on Potter not wanting him or when he thought about how long had he loved the boy, how deeply he loved him.

Potter looked at him, frowning.

"And dad and Padfoot know about this? Does Snape know?"

Draco shook quickly his head and walked towards him, he grabbed the boy by the arm to make him pay attention. Potter looked at him, startled. He was so close, his soft tickles were crazy. Focus.

" Your father and Sirius know. But Severus doesn't, and he doesn't need to know. If he finds out he would worry and it's not necessary, I can handle it." He let go of his arm and moved a little away from him. "Weasley probably has an idea, but I didn't tell him."

Potter seemed to perk up at that. He nodded and promise not to tell.

Draco was almost entering the Charm's classroom when he heard his Godfather voice.

" Would you be so kind to tell me what you and the Potter boy are hiding from me?" He said in that very characteristic time of his. His face was calm, annoyed too but Severus was always annoyed. " If you want to hide things from me, I recommend not to speak of them out loud." He narrowed his eyes.

Draco put his most guilty face and walked towards him. He raised his wand and casted a silencing charm around them before talking.

"I asked Potter to teach me how to cast the Patronus charm." Suddenly the blond boy was an expert in telling truthful facts that weren't actually answers to what people had asked him...Maybe this was his new power, born from the daffodils themselves.

His godfather arched an eyebrow, unconvinced.

"Why?"

"To send messages, we don't want to send letters anymore. It's obvious they could be intercepted."

" Even if this is true, why would you have the need to hide it from me."

Again, he used a truthful fact as an excuse.

" Everything is dark this year, the weather, the air... We need to prepare for the worst. If this is something useful to fight this war then I want it. I didn't want to tell you because you would stop me from getting in the middle of it all, but the thing is that I already am."

Severus looked at him with proud eyes. He could swear he saw the end of his mouth go up, for a very brief moment, to form a smile.

" I would not be as foolish as to suggest that you should stay out of it, after all, Potter is involved. You can't stay away from where he is, for better or for worst." Draco blushed at that, and looked away. "I'm still waiting for you to tell me about the bargain."

"I can't, Severus."

He saw professor Flitwick get inside and took that as the cue to abandon the conversation.

———————————-

Potter was late, it was so predictable that Draco didn’t even had it in him to be mad about it.

Because he was bored, he grabbed his sketch book from his bag and started to draw. It was doodles mostly, to really draw something he needed time and even if the other boy was late... Draco didn’t think it would be enough time to draw something pretty. He was working on the wings of a snitch when Potter entered the empty classroom.

“Sorry! Ginny was talking to me about the training and I lost track of time..”

Draco did his best to ignore that Ginevra was even mentioned. He had enough of the daffodils for one day, to be honest. He did a gesture with his hands to indicate the boy that he didn’t care, and got up with his wand on his hand.

“Okay, professor Potter. Teach me.”

He could swear he saw the boy blush for a brief moment, he cleared his throat and started to explain.

“Basically you need to create your Patronus with a really happy memory.

It can’t be something shallow, it’s got to be something that fills your entire being with happiness, with peace. The most difficult part in finding that memory... the rest just follows. Do you have an idea about what could be?”

Draco nodded.

“Okay... do you want me to go first to see the wand movement?”

“Sure.”

Potter took a deep breath before casting it... Then he made a circle as he pronounced the incantation.

“Expecto Patronum.”

It was magnificent, a beautiful stag, a king of the forest standing before him. He couldn’t help but smile, the aura surrounding the Patronus was so calm, peaceful. It reminded him of Grimmauld Place.

He extended a hand towards it, and the gorgeous creature walked to where he was. The stag looked at him and crooked his head to a side, like as if it were analyzing Draco. The blond boy found it so funny that he crooked his head to the side too, before smiling to it again.

The stag took a step closer to him and put his head on Draco’s hand. It wanted to be petted. He thought he might die from the cuteness of it all. He looked at Potter then.

“Is your Patronus always like this?” He asked amused by the creature.

The dark haired boy had a confused look in his face. He shook his head.

“No, he never gets near people unless I ask him to.”

The daffodils went crazy. He was special. A Patronus was a guardian, something that came from the most hidden parts of your soul... This was Potter’s and it liked Draco. Not only the stag liked him but he liked him more than anyone. He felt the tickles all over.

“You are a cute one.” He said at the gorgeous creature. “I like you more than Potter already.”

The green-eyed boy snorted and rolled his eyes. He disappeared his Patronus and looked at him.

“Now you try.”

It wasn’t easy, all the things he thought about were good but not enough, apparently. Potter kept encouraging him, saying that he took a really long time to get it right and that some people couldn’t cast it and that was it. It’s normal, Malfoy. The boy even suggested to leave it until next Friday and he almost hex him. If stupid talented Potter could cast a Patronus, Draco would cast one. Even if it took him all bloody night to manage it.

It was almost curfew, they had to get back to their houses but Draco was more pigheaded than any bloody Griffindor. If he could bring someone from beyond the veil, then he could cast this stupid charm.

“Malfoy, let it go. We can continue another day. We could use Sunday if you don’t want to wait for next week.”

Draco frowned at that.

“Sundays are chess days.”

Potter rolled his eyes and crossed his arms before responding.

“Yes, I know. But since this is important maybe an exception can be made. Ron wouldn’t care.” Draco snorted.

“I care.” The green eyed was frowning at him. “Besides, I think I have a memory that works. I only got one memory that’s more happy than the last one I thought about.”

And it was true, there was only one thing in the world that made him happier than the thought of his mother reading at him on summers when he was young.

Potter made a gesture to indicate him that he could try.

He closed his eyes. That day replaying on his head. The sound of the little bell on the door... Draco standing very still as he was getting his measures, waiting. The awfully large clothes that the boy had, messy hair and sightly crooked glasses. Green eyes looking right at him. How his heart started to pound against his chest.

Draco took a deep breaths before casting.

“Expecto Patronum.”

He knew it was going to work even before he saw the silver mist came out of the tip of his wand. He felt so peaceful... How could it not work if he felt like this? So all consuming, utterly, happy.

It was blinding, he almost couldn’t see everything as it happened. And then he heard Potter gasp behind him.

Draco blinked a few times. He remembered that he expected something smaller than Potter’s stag, something that didn’t attract attention. And now looking at this gorgeous silver thing... He couldn’t care less. He was so happy he could cry. A beautiful lion stood in front of him.

He extended his arm just like he did with the other Patronus. The lion looked at him, suspicious, but then he walked towards them. He moved around Draco a few times and then he laid before him, looking at Potter.

The boy offered his hand, just like he did, trying to get closer, but the lion did a little growl and looked away.

“Who would have guess? You are a prat just like him.” Said Potter as he was smiling at the creature.

“Weasley is going to faint. He was so sure it would be a ferret.” He said as he chuckled. The green-eyed boy looked up to where he was.

“Don’t you feel less of a slytherin now, Malfoy?”

Draco snorted and shook his head.

“You can mock all you want but I got a Beautiful lion as a Patronus and nothing that you say can take it away.”

Potter laughed at that and then returned to look at the lion in front of him.

“Why didn’t you use this memory from the beginning? I saw you trying like fifteen times and I thought you didn’t know which one to use..” He frowned then. “But you were so sure this one was going to work... so you knew.”

Draco sighed, and because he lost focus, the lion disappeared.

“I think it’s a lot of responsibility, to be someone’s best memory, I mean. Powerful memories are attached to persons that you love... I was trying to avoid using the memory attached to a person in particular.”

The green-eyed stood up, looking at him with a confused expression.

“Why?”

“Because, I’m rather sure that they don’t want to be my happy memory.”

The strong tickles were starting. This was being in love with Harry Potter: a rollercoaster of emotions. He went from being incredibly happy to sad and pathetic in minutes. He coughed a few times; fucking daffodils.

[recklessrex]

216 - Macavity & Chaos Twins

First of all trigger warning: violence, abuse, injury, blood, child abuse

This story involves descriptions and discussions of violence. I wouldn't call it super graphic, but it's enough for me to caution those with triggers. Blood and injuries are mentioned, but not in detail. An adult causes mild physical injury to a minor. If any of these things are potential triggers for you, you may want to skip this one.

Sorry it's quite a bit longer than I'd intended. I'd put it under a cut but I'm stuck using mobile and it won't let me. Just rapid scroll if you'd like to skip.

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Okay so if you're still reading

This takes place some years before the current timeline, when Mungo and Teazer are in their early to mid teens. Bomba is in her early 20s, Demeter hasn't met her or Macavity yet (which is why she doesn't appear in this story), and my OC, Sullivan, has known him for about 5 or so years.

(Note: "mot" = "adult or teenage woman" A word I first saw in a fantasy novel, I use it where many other Cats writers might use the word "queen." Just a personal preference of mine. I find it less awkward, plus I think it's neat that it's "tom" backwards)

Beware: Long Fic

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“You know how you can smack something to get it to work? I wish I can do that to people.”

Macavity eyed the two kits chattering away before him as he lounged in his favorite chair. He wasn't sure what to make of them, or their little presentation. He was torn between annoyance and amusement.

They were certainly bold, he had to give them that. They couldn't have been more than 15 or so, the girl perhaps even a bit younger. Two nameless, no-account brats with, as far as Mac could tell, no existing connection to his gang whatsoever.

Yet here they were, stood fearlessly in the middle of his lounge, explaining to the most feared gang leader in the Junkyard how they wanted in on a heist they had no business even knowing about. Mac was sorely tempted to be impressed just by the sheer figurative balls of these two, but he'd wait and see how this went.

At Mac's side, seated on the ottoman that went with his chair, his chief "henchrat," Sullivan, grimaced under his elaborate Rat-mask. Sully had little patience for these young intruders or their antics. He just wanted the little punks gone, so they could get back to business. But Mac had so far said nothing, and so Sullivan would say nothing. As long as Mac wanted to hear them out, they could speak. But they'd better hurry it up…

Several other Cats in the gang, mostly in Rat-masks like Sullivan's, were scattered around the room, some seated around a table covered in maps and other papers, others stood against the walls or lounging in other pieces of furniture strewn about the room. Some listened to the intruders' speech with mild interest, some glared, others quietly mocked or rolled their eyes at the duo, or muttered to each other. All kept an eye on Macavity, and on Sullivan. If their boss and their captain were fine with these two idiots trespassing on their turf for now, then the rest of the gang was fine with it too. But the moment either on them gave the signal, the little brats would be outta there, and probably more than a little worse for the wear.

A large Rat-masked Cat called "Hoover" leaned his back against the door with his arms crossed. He glowered menacingly at the talkative teens' backs. He wasn't sure how they got in, but if the nosy punks tried to escape while the boss still wanted them here, they weren't getting out through Hoover.

A Cat that was not in a Rat-mask leaned against the back of Mac's chair on the opposite side of Sullivan, occasionally reaching down to stroke the fur of his head, chest, or shoulders. She was the newest mot in the gang, a tall curvy young bombshell with the boldest, most beautiful red fur Mac had ever seen. Her name was Bombalurina, but Sullivan called her "Bombalicious." Mac called her what most people called her: "Bomba."

Bomba wasn't sure where she'd seen the girl of the pair before, but she was quite certain she had. She watched the girl with keen interest, but tried to keep her expression something close to boredom. She didn't want to arouse anyone's suspicions til she was sure what she was dealing with.

Normally only "the rats" and a few other people relevant to a particular job were allowed in the lounge while plans were going on, but Mac… sort of knew Bomba… sort of. He remembered her from when they were kits, though they never interacted much since he was 8 years older than her, but she used to play with his kit brother sometimes. Even though his brother had been a couple years younger than her, she still let him hang out with her and her friends, and Mac had once caught her scolding some girls more her age for picking on the younger boy.

Mac remembered Bomba's kindness to his baby brother, and found himself trusting her, despite the insistence from at least one of the other mots and a few of the rats that she must be a spy. As far as he knew, Bomba had not been living with the Jellicles for at least a couple years now. He wondered if she even remembered him from her youth.

When she'd first arrived, he'd asked Sullivan what he thought. His short, stout friend had shrugged and said he'd keep an eye on her, but that she didn't come across to him as having an agenda. Mac trusted Sully's opinion.

"And that's why we like to respectfully ask you to include our services in your upcoming endeavors," concluded the boy, using words Mac would never have guess were in his vocabulary. He hadn't seemed like the brightest bulb. Neither of them had, but the boy especially gave off major airhead vibes. Macavity raised an eyebrow, maybe there was more to them then he'd realized.

Then again, maybe the dumb kit had just memorized the line.

"And what exactly do I get out of this?" he drawled in his deep, silky, menacing voice.

"Uhhh…" said the boy, looking worried for the first time, though Mac wasn't sure if it was because of the question or just Mac's tone.

"You've told me why you want in, but why should I want you in?" Mac elaborated. He was starting to lose his patience. Surely some advantage to the gang had been part of their plan? Surely they hadn't taken such a huge risk by invading his heist meeting just to tell him why they feel they have a right to take part? Surely they didn't think he gave a shit about where some no-account kitten gang had drawn their turf line against other no-account kitten gangs? Surely they weren't that stupid?

"Right," started the boy, "well you see, uh…"

"You see," the girl took over, indicating herself and her companion with a couple jerks of her thumb, "we're a notorious couple of cats!" The boy, recovered from his brief bout of nerves, nodded sagely.

"Yeah, that's right!" he piped proudly. "Notorious!"

Mac raised an eyebrow and looked down at Sully. His loyal friend looked up at him. Mac couldn't really see Sully's eyebrows through the mask, but he knew Sully was as amused as he was. Or, well, maybe "amused" wasn't the right word…

"You, uh.." Sully said to the pair, fighting back a dry chuckle that wanted to rise from the back of his throat, "you do know what 'notorious' means, right?"

"Uhhh…" the teens chorused, looking at each other.

"Well known," explained Sullivan, not waiting for them to come up with an answer. "Famous. Renowned in dis-reputation."

"Oh yea we know that," claimed the boy, nodding.

"Yeah!" echoed the girl.

"Really?" asked Sullivan flatly, crossing his arms over his husky chest.

"Oh yeah! Sure we do!" exclaimed the girl.

"Pfft of course," said the boy, posing arrogantly.

"Pfft," echoed the girl, making a show of rolling her eyes.

"Then why have I never heard of you?" Mac asked slowly, dropping an extra degree of ice and menace into the words. He liked watching them squirm. At his side, Sullivan smirked.

"Well uh.." stammered the boy, "erm…"

"Ahh well, uh, you see, uh…" tried the girl.

Macavity grinned wickedly, allowing the expression to serve as an implied threat. The pair squirmed more. The boy gaped, wide-eyed, at the crime boss. He tried to speak, but couldn't make a sound. He looked rather entertainingly like a fish, repeatedly opening his mouth to start speaking and then closing it again. The girl, meanwhile, blinked, shook her head, and cleared her throat.

"Ahem, well, I suppose we aren't notorious enough to reach the ears of such an illustrious Cat as yourself," she said, trying some flattery, "but we're a damn good team."

The boy snapped out of his fish-trance to nod proudly and seriously.

"We can do all manner of things for ya!" he announced.

"Like what?" Mac asked. He was getting bored.

"Like everything!" the boy boasted.

"We're the sneakiest sneak thieves," the girl elaborated.

"And burglars!" added the boy, who obviously couldn't be prouder of this fact.

"And acrobats!" the girl practically sang. She did a cartwheel as demonstration. Mac wasn't sure how she thought cartwheels would be of service to him, but at least he was slightly less bored.

"And Teazer 'ere can pick a lock like nobody's business!" The boy jerked a thumb at his companion.

"And Mungo can creep quieter than a Mouse!" added the girl, who was apparently called Teazer. "And so can I o' course, Mungo's just even quieter."

Bomba's ears had perked up at the name Teazer. Hadn't she known someone named Teazer as a kit? She was more sure than ever that she knew this rambunctious girl, but she couldn't place where…

"And we're tougher than we look," continued the boy, apparently called Mungo.

"Yeah, especially together," Teazer agreed, puffing herself up to try and look intimidating. It wasn't very effective. "Nobody crosses us."

"Yeah nobody," echoed Mungo. They seemed to echo each other a lot.

When they were finished, Macavity sat silent, regarding them. Sullivan watched his boss and waited. The gang watched Macavity, and Sullivan, and waited.

Bomba watched the duo as they resisted the urge to start squirming again under the silence. She vaguely remembered a much younger kit in her tribe, at least 6 or 7 years younger, that was called "Teazer." But that kit had been a boy. It must have been a different Teazer. She remembered it had been short for something…

Finally, after a full minute of silence, Macavity spoke.

"I have many other Cat's that can do all of these things." he said slowly. "What makes you special?"

"Can any of em do it all at once?" Teazer retorted immediately. Mungo looked worried though, glancing around the room at all the masked criminals that were surrounding him as though seeing them for the first time.

"Probably," answered Mac. It was a lie, but he suspected the kits were exaggerating too, and besides, he wanted to see how they reacted. "What else ya got?"

The girl hesitated, but didn't squirm. Her eyes darted to her sides, and Mac knew she was resisting the urge to glance nervously around the room like her friend. The boy pulled his attention away from the sneering, glaring thugs and addressed Macavity again.

"Look you need us," he said plainly.

"Yes, so you say," Mac drawled, "but why?"

No answer. The kits exchanged glances.

"You've yet to explain this to me." Mac layed the ice on thick, but the kits didn't squirm.

"Well?" demanded Sullivan. "You heard him! Either come up with a decent answer, or get lost! Quit wasting our time!"

"We can go anywhere," Teazer said suddenly, her voice calm and confident. The boy nodded quietly at her side. "We can get into anywhere," she went on, "and I do mean anywhere."

"Don't matter where," Mungo continued, his voice as calm and serious as his friend's. "Don't matter the security. If we want in, we find a way in. No one and nothin' can stop us."

They were both suddenly in serious business mode. No squirming, no nerves, no arrogant posturing, no showing off or silly antics, just two very serious kits, staring him dead in the eye, perfectly calm. Macavity suspected this was more than a boast, and it would make them quite valuable if it were true. But he was no fool. He would make them prove it.

"And you expect me to believe that?" he drawled.

"We got in 'ere, didn't we?" Teazer said, still calmly, but with a touch of teenage attitude, staring at him sassily as if challenging him to argue. Mungo raised an eyebrow and smirked, but said nothing. Neither of them broke eye contact.

Sullivan looked up at Mac. He waited. The gang waited. Bomba waited. The kits waited. Seconds ticked by. Sullivan, and only Sullivan, saw the smirk fighting to take form on his friend's face.

Finally Macavity, the most feared gang leader in the Junkyard, chuckled a low chuckle that rose into full hearty laughter. Sullivan joined him, chuckling his own nasally chuckle, then wheezing in laughter. They were finished before the rest of the gang were recovered enough from the shock and surprise to join in. Most of them didn't get the joke anyway, didn't understand what was so amusing about these punks to their fearsome boss and his fearless second-in-command.

"You're in," Macavity told the kits, who had started to squirm slightly again when he'd started laughing. He couldn't fault them that, he had a very intimidating laugh, even when it was genuine.

Now they grinned wide, and launched into speeches of gratitude, promising he wouldn't regret it and so on and so forth. The much of rest of the gang murmured to each other, unsure of how they felt about this new addition, except Hoover, who stood silently by the door, and Bomba, who was still contemplating where she'd seen this kit before, and of course Sullivan, who wrinkled his nose at the talkative little brats but said nothing, waiting for his boss.

Mac said no more, but waved a signal to Sullivan. No one else looking would have known what the signal meant, but he knew it was his cue to take back control of the room.

"Shut up!" said Sully, standing up and stepping forward. Everyone shut up. Mac's chief henchrat may have been the shortest guy in the room, but his bulk, his mask, and his crisp, commanding voice made up for what his height lacked in intimidation. He pointed a clawed finger at the two grinning kits.

"You're in, but you ain't big fish yet. You're at the bottom of the tank, eating algae off the dirt and gravel. That's your place. Don't forget it." He paused for a second to let that sink in. They nodded their understanding.

"Now sit down and shut up!" Sullivan finished, "You've wasted enough of our time."

"Do we get a cool mask like yours?" one of them asked as Sullivan returned to his seat.

"No! Sit down!" he shouted, gesturing angrily at them with one meaty arm. Mac chuckled at his irritated friend and rested a hand on his shoulder.

Still grinning, the kits tried to find seats on the nearby sofa but found it was suddenly full, the thugs that were seated in it stretching out and spreading their legs until there was no room. Looking around they saw similar things happening around the room. Single, unoccupied chairs were now taken up by people that had previously been standing. Only Hoover remained standing, still guarding the door. The runts were no skin off his nose. As long as they stayed out of his way.

Undaunted by the lack of seats, the duo found a spot close to the table where they would be unlikely to be stepped on and obediently sat down on the floor. They smiled up at Sullivan, who nodded his approval. At least they could follow instruction.

Meanwhile Bomba was too distracted trying to remember where she knew Teazer from to sit down at first, though she did plant her rear on the arm of the Mac's chair when he gave her thigh an encouraging tug. The brat couldn't be the little boy named Teazer from her old tribe, unless… nah she would have needed surgery, and she looked way too young for that. How would she even afford it? No it couldn't be. Bomba gave up, crossed her legs, and leaned against Mac, wrapping her arms around his maned head and running a hand along his collar bones.

The gang didn't settle so easily. A few of the higher players tried to stay focused on their planning, but the majority the gang (minus the somber Hoover, the now contented Bomba, and the annoyed but faithful Sullivan) gradually broke back into murmurs amongst each other. They apparently had already forgotten their captain's anger, or had mistaken it as being for the new brats only. The brats in question, meanwhile, weren't paying attention at all, not that there was much to pay attention to with the state the room was in. They were playing some kind of game where they pretended to slap each other's hands, but didn't make any noise.

Sully itched to get them all back on track, but, as always, he stoically waited for Mac. Sometimes his boss liked letting a room run out of control. He found it entertaining, in certain mood. But a glance up at his old friend told him he was not amused. Even sat in the loving arms of the hottest mot in the gang, he had clearly fallen into a considerably bad mood. Ignoring Bomba completely, he glowered darkly at his very, very distracted gang. But still he said nothing, made no signal.

Sully hesitated, then laid a comforting hand on his friend's knee. Mac looked down at him, his face unreadable, then looked back out at the room again. Sully followed his gaze, keeping his hand on his knee. He waited.

Finally Mac sighed. He lifted arm to rest his elbow on the arm of the chair not occupied by Bomba's very fine rear end, and let his head rest against his fist. His glower softened.

“You know how you can smack something to get it to work?" he said.

"Yeah?"

"I wish I could do that with people.”

When Sully didn't reply, Mac looked down to see his loyal masked confidant staring up at him. Half his expression was obscured by the Rat-mask, but Mac could see the straight, seemingly unamused line his mouth was making, as well as the tiny almost undetectable little twitch in one corner of his mouth.

"What?" he asked, fighting a smirk of his own.

"Boss," Sullivan said flatly.

"What?"

"Boss."

"What?!" Mac couldn't hold this in much longer.

"You do that all the time!"

Mac threw back his head and howled with laughter, and Sullivan doubled over laughing as well. Neither quite knew what it was about this they found funny, but they couldn't help it. They laughed together, Sully wheezing and snickering alongside Mac's deep rolling chuckle. The rest of the gang fell silent, then some of them nervously tried to chuckle along to a joke they didn't understand.

"Shut up!" Mac roared and jumped to his feet, nearly knocking poor Bomba off the arm of the chair. Sullivan swallowed his laughter, put on his best stony face, and stood just behind Mac at his right side. His place.

Everyone stared at Mac, who glared and showed his teeth, a growl rumbling deep in his throat. His hackles were raised, making his red mane stand up like a fiery halo around his head. Suddenly he swung his right arm out in a wide arc, over an unflinching Sullivan's head, to strike the face of an unmasked Cat at the table with the back off his hand. The Cat, a safecracker they were outsourcing for this gig, tumbled backwards off the bench. Bomba, new enough to be shocked and surprised at this outburst, got up from the chair and quickly put it between her and Macavity.

The furious ginger tom then charged to the other side of the table, where the masked Cats that sat there and nearby shrank away, putting their hands up defensively and shaking their heads to ask for mercy. Finding their body language suitably submissive, Mac turned away from the table to take in the rest of the room. Near his feet were the new brats, staring at the floor and trying to make themselves as small as possible. They had shifted a bit away from the table, and the boy, Mungo, had placed himself between Teazer and Macavity. He briefly glanced up at Macavity, then snapped his eyes back to the floor.

On the sofa across the room two masked thugs looked at each other, then back at Macavity with frowns and narrowed eyes.

That would not do.

Macavity snarled and swiftly crossed the room to the sofa, giving Mungo a sharp kick in the stomach along the way. He took his claws out and swatted one thug across the mouth, where his mask didn't protect him, and with the claws of his other hand, slashed the other thug from shoulder to sternum. Both cried out. Mac let out a bellowing growl to silence them. The thugs cowered, whimpering and holding their wounds. A third thug seated on the sofa turned his head away and lowered his gaze to the floor. Suitably submissive.

At the door, Hoover was watching this unfold, seemingly unbothered, staring unblinkingly from beneath his mask. Macavity turned and spotted him, and in three steps he was upon him. He grabbed the much larger tom by the side of the neck, using just enough claw make it smart, and dragged his head down level with his own, snarling and baring his clenched teeth.

"Sssitt" ordered Macavity in a low, soft voice that promised pain it if not heeded.

Hoover obediently lowered to the floor. Sitting crosslegged with his back against the door, he broke eye contact by turning his head slightly and staring at his boss's left knee. Suitably submissive. Macavity let Hoover go.

Sullivan had watched it all impassively, but when Mac had gone after Hoover, who was never a problem, he had shifted slightly on his feet, fighting his discomfort.

It's good for show, he told himself. Biggest tom in the room. Reinforces his dominance with the whole gang. He knows Hoover would submit easily. The others don't necessarily know that. It's good for show.

He allowed himself a tiny sigh of relief when his boss had let the big tom go. If Mac had held on to him for much longer he would have had to try to gently remind him to chill the fuck out, without undermining his authority.

Unfortunately, Macavity had turned around in time, and was familiar enough with his chief henchrat's body language, to see his reaction. He growled and glowered and bared his teeth. Sully didn't flinch, but sent a pleading message with his eyes.

Easy, boss. It's enough. Please calm down.

Only Mac was looking at Sully. Only Mac saw the troubled, almost sad look in his eyes. Neither of them were telepaths, and so Mac couldn't know exactly what Sully was trying to tell him, but he knew that look. It was the look Sully always wore when Mac's temper flared hotter than was safe for either of them. It was a look that Mac associated with a calm, comforting voice.

"It's okay," his friend would tell him, "it's alright. Take it easy, you're alright."

Though Sully was silent now, Mac could hear those soft, soothing words in the back of his mind when he looked in his friend's eyes.

It was a look Mac associated with the gentle weight of an understanding hand on his shoulder, or his arm, or his knee. It was a look that made him feel strange, unfamiliar, but not unpleasant things. It was a look that awakened a protective instinct in him, though he was only mildly aware that it was himself he was protecting his best friend from.

It was a look that calmed Macavity's heart.

It was not a look of fear, nor was it truly one of submission.

But it was suitably submissive. For his purposes. He told himself that as his glower softened, his lips curled back down to cover his teeth, and his bristling mane smoothed back into it's normal wild shaggy state.

In truth it wasn't submissive at all. Macavity had been soothed. With one gentle look, the most feared gang leader in the Junkyard had been subdued.

The whole exchange, from growling at Sully to silent plea to dampening fury, had taken no more than five seconds. No one else in the gang had noticed. They were too busy not making eye contact. Mungo was doubled over on the floor, holding his stomach and trying not to make noise, while Teazer knelt beside him, her arms wrapped around his shoulders protectively, her head layed against his back. Only Sullivan was looking at Mac, and no one was looking at Sullivan.

Except Bomba. She was watching anxiously from behind Mac's chair. She had seen her new lover lock eyes with the obnoxious little fatass that was in charge of the rat squad. Had seen his rage melt away like nothing. Now she looked from Sullivan to Macavity and back again, trying to make sense of what she'd just witnessed.

Macavity sneered his annoyance at her, but did not bare his teeth. She offered him a small nervous smile, just trying to stay on his good side. He did not return it. His temper was under control, but his mood had not improved. He stalked silently back to his chair, giving Sullivan the tiniest of nods on his way. Sullivan knew his cue.

"Alright listen up!" shouted the rat captain, looking around the room at the nervous eyes that looked up at him. "No more chit-chat! No more bullshit! Let's get back to business!"

Sullivan didn't look at Macavity as he passed him, and Macavity didn't look at him either. He silently glided by and flopped hard into his chair. Bomba, to her credit, didn't flinch or back away at his approach, but she didn't come around to sit on the arm again. Nor did he encourage her to. Instead, she leaned one arm against the back of the chair with as much an air of nonchalance as she could muster.

A minute ago, literally one minute, he would have been annoyed and probably offended at her behavior, but in this moment he admired and respected her for it. Macavity's thoughts tended to run like that, all over the place. Increasingly so, these days.

Despite Sullivan's firm orders, it was only when the boss was seated again that the room cautiously started reorganizing itself. The safecracker was helped to his feet by a masked Cat, and returned to his place on the bench. Teazer quietly helped Mungo sit up and the two sat in silence as other Cats nearby returned to the table and started ruffling through papers. Hoover, already where he was supposed to be, didn't move.

"You two," Sullivan pointed a claw at the two bleeding thugs on the sofa, "get yourselves cleaned up, you're bleeding all over the upholstery!"

They didn't need to be told twice. They scrambled from the sofa and made for the door, finding it blocked by Hoover.

"Let 'em out." ordered Sullivan.

Hoover stood, opened the door, and slammed it closed again after they had exited, nearly catching one of them by the tail. Then he crossed his arms and leaned against the door once more. Macavity glared a warning from his chair, and Hoover silently slid his back down the door until he was again seated crosslegged on the floor.

"Everyone else, get focused!" Sullivan continued. "And stay focused! No more games! We have work to do!"

Sullivan looked around the room, and, satisfied they all would behave themselves for now, returned to his own seat at his boss's side. From his chair, Mac quietly and gently reached out to stroke the short, sweaty, taupe-grey fur on the back of Sully's neck with his fingers. Sully's shoulders relaxed. He leaned into the touch.

"There's other ways to get shit to work you know," he muttered softly. Mac took his hand away. Sully looked up at him.

"And smacking it might not do anything but break it."

Mac said nothing. His attention seemed to be on the Cats at the table, who were discussing a blueprint. Sully sighed and patted Mac's arm, which was now resting on the arm of the chair.

"But you do you, boss..."

"Hnm," grunted Mac.

"… just…"

Mac's head didn't move, but his eyes flicked down to regard his loyal companion, his expression blank, silently granting him permission to say whatever he was hesitating to say.

It's okay, Mac tried to tell him with his eyes, I won't get mad.

But still Sully hesitated, finally he sighed again and said "We can talk about this later."

Sully had wanted to tell his boss that he thought he should reign it back a bit, for his own good as well as the good of the gang. But this wasn't the time or the place. Anything that could be taken as arguing with him, including questioning his methods, should be done in private. Undermining him in front of everyone, right after they had just gotten the room under control again, was a very bad idea. He didn't know how Mac would respond to it, but more importantly, he did know how the gang would take it, and Sully reckoned it wouldn't go well in the long run. Just not a good idea.

So he waved it off until later, when they could talk in private. He patted Mac's wrist again, letting his hand rest there a moment before taking it away, and turned his attention back to the discussion over the blueprint.

Bomba, the only Cat within earshot of their conversation, watched the two is them with interest. She had no idea what to make of these two, or their strange relationship.

Well, she thought, at least the tall one's hot.

From the door, Hoover had seen the quick gentle touches between the boss and the captain. He paid it no mind. He knew the two were close, that it wasn't like that, and that it wouldn't matter even if it was. He also knew better than to assume a little bit of sentiment (or even intimacy) made either of them weaker somehow.

And it wasn't any of his business anyway.

On the floor near the table, Mungo and Teazer tried to focus on the discussion, but it was difficult seeing how they couldn't really see the papers being discussed. Not to mention Mungo's very sore abdomen, and the fact that they suddenly had a lot to think about. They each wondered to themselves, had they gotten in over their heads?

Sullivan listened to gang discuss routes and patrols, the safecracker piping with helpful information such as how much time he'd need and so on. Tension had crept back up into Sully's back and shoulders. He didn't like jobs like this. He didn't like outsourcing. He didn't like new faces. And he especially didn't like when his boss was in a mood. He knew (or rather he hoped) Mac would never hurt him, not even in a mood like this. But it wasn't all about his own personal safety. He just didn't like his friend's dark moods. Not one bit.

Brooding, frowning, jaw clenched, sweating under his stupid mask, and trying his hardest to stay focused (set a good example, dammit, he thought to himself) Sullivan leaned against Mac's chair. He felt Mac's fingers lightly stroke the back of his neck yet again. They lingered there, just for a moment, just enough to relieve some of his tension, then returned to the arm of the chair.

Sully shifted so that his elbow brushed his friend's leg, letting it rest there a moment, as a return gesture of affection. Then both returned their attention to the business at hand, both in an ever-so-slightly better mood.

[curiosity-killed]

borders

in which Aeridian is a bastard language and Bastan almost has a Bonding Moment

Word count: 1906

The worst of it, Bastan couldn’t help thinking, was that he was just a boy. A pissy, hissing little shit – but so young. All this time, he’d thought of the Black Prince in caricatures – looming, leering, and grizzled. The kid before him, though, inspired only pity; he sat curled over his legs, eyes wide and blank and back a raw mess of red. Mamán and Aven were applying ointment that would help him heal, but at the moment, it just made the ragged, bloody edges glisten. It had been easier, before, when he was snapping at them like a cornered fox. He’d still seemed young, and Bastan hadn’t been able to shake the image of him pale and half-drowned – but at least he’d been fighting. Now, limp and wrung out, he seemed to have simply given up. It made regret seep through him like a water stain. “I can’t believe you tried to hide him,” Mamán muttered as she came over to put away the salve.

Behind her, Aven was finishing the bandage around the prince’s back, and the prince sat has he had, unmoving and unseeing.

“We didn’t think it was safe to tell anyone till he was a little sturdier,” Bastan said. In truth, he thought, he could have stopped with ‘We didn’t think.’ Even if the prince had been in full health when he was discovered, he would never have had a chance against the full wrath of the village. From Mamán’s look, she knew it, too. She turned to scrubbing at her hands, a measure that was equal parts fastidiousness and frustration. “We thought they’d kill him if they knew,” Bastan tried. “You were right,” Mamán said shortly with a jerk of her head back at the prince. Bastan fell quiet. Though he’d never been under the lash himself, he’d seen others whipped before. Ten strikes from a strong arm was enough to dissuade most anyone from a repeat offense. He’d never seen someone beaten to death the way Romilin had clearly intended. It made his stomach twist tight with nausea to remember to wet thud of the lash, the broken little whimpers Callebero had made towards the end. He hadn’t realized the latent cruelty in his neighbors. “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you,” he said now. “We thought we had everything under control, but clearly, we didn’t. We should have asked for help.” Her lips pursed, though he couldn’t tell if it was because she was still angry or because she thought he was trying to play her. He hoped it wasn’t the latter; his apology was genuine. “No changing the past now,” she said brusquely, drying off her hands. “All we can do is make sure we don’t repeat yesterday’s mistakes tomorrow.” Bastan’s lips quirked up despite himself. “I don’t know how many chances we could get to fish the Black Prince out of the river,” he pointed out. Mamán shot him a warning look, but her lips had already curled up in amusement. She sighed and rested a hand on his shoulder. “Your malán would be proud of you,” she said. “And happy to have the chance to speak Aeridian,” Bastan added, aiming for levity. Not that he would have shown it. For the twenty-odd years Bastan had known his father, he had been a stoic man with a face like a cliff’s edge and a silence as impenetrable as granite. The only reason Bastan had ever even guessed that he missed his mother tongue was how he’d sit up late into the night with Halle just to talk. The language had been quick and rolling, nothing like the sharp rhythms of Capallan, and it was the most expressive he’d ever seen his malán, as if, by returning to his native tongue he had tapped into some deeper part of himself. Bastan had wanted to learn it, had wanted to understand this part of their history his father had shut off when Alir was killed and the border closed. But Aeridian was a difficult language to learn and his malán disinclined to help. It was dangerous knowledge, he claimed. Like his lean build and his height, it would bring Bastan more pain than benefit. Bastan had persisted, but without instruction, he’d only picked up so much. It was enough for stilted conversation in Ninimon. It was enough to understand what the prince said in his fever dreams. Maybe that was why he looked at Callebero with pity now. It was hard to draw up a lot of anger towards someone after hearing them beg for their mamán, hearing them plead for help. “Will he be alright?” he heard himself ask. “I don’t know,” Mamán admitted with a sigh. “He’s young and in good condition, but he was injured before whatever attack left him in the river, and neither nearly drowning nor being flogged helped. It’ll come down to his will as much as anything.” Bastan frowned, unsurprised but still a little disappointed by the news. Of their family, he’d always been the optimist. “He doesn’t seem to have much left,” he said, hoping she would refute him. “No,” she said slowly, “he doesn’t. But he’s made it this far. Perhaps there’s a stronger core than we can see.” Aven stepped over, drying her hands on her skirt. A few hairs had escaped from under her scarf, but he didn’t bother pointing it out. She’d fix it before going outside. Probably. “What do you think?” she asked. Mamán shrugged. “We’ll see,” she said. She didn’t voice the opinions she’d told Bastan, but he had a feeling that was less due to secrecy than a lack of a need for it. Mamán and Aven had always seemed to communicate on a level above the rest. Whether it came from some mother-daughter bond or from sharing the same profession, he couldn’t say. “You should get some rest,” he said to the both of them. “I can stay with him.” There was a moment of hesitation, where they both seemed reluctant to go. As always, Mamán was the first to decide. “Very well,” she said. “Get Halle if there’s any trouble.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze and let them shuffle out the door. Across the room, the prince hadn’t moved from his position, slumped against his thighs. His right arm was bound in a sling to his chest, but his left arm hung limp over his knee. The tattoos stood out stark against his ashen pallor and the bandages striping his body in white. The black designs made something uncomfortable twist in his gut, a mix of disgust and fascination. Years of the Goddess’ teachings told him that it was wrong to brand the body so, especially with the color of death. But curiosity made him want to keep looking, to ask what each shape meant. It was part of his own heritage, no matter how little it was valued here. He walked over in three easy steps, conscious of the noise his bare feet made on the wood. If the prince heard it, he gave no sign. “Hey,” he greeted. Though the prince was taller than him, he came only partway up Bastan’s leg with the way he sat. Realizing it, Bastan crouched. The prince gave no acknowledgment. “Mamán and Aven went to get some sleep,” he explained into the silence, “but I’ll be here if you need anything tonight.” At the first word, a little jolt ran through the prince, and he turned to Bastan. With his brow furrowed into a dark line over his eyes, his gaze was almost uncomfortably intense. He said something in Aeridian, quick and questioning. Bastan winced and held up his hand. “I only speak a little,” he said, finishing in Aeridian and making a ‘tiny’ gesture with his lifted hand. The prince deflated immediately, that brief purpose slumping into defeat. “You used ‘mamán’,” he said. “I thought –” His Capallan sounded like he’d learned it from some stuffy noble; his accent was nearly perfect, but the edges were too precise and polished. It sounded nothing like the slushed accent of the border. Bastan hesitated a moment, chewing at his lip. “My father – malán – was Aeridian,” he explained. “I learned some but not very much. And it…sounds different from yours.” The prince canted his head, apparently thinking. It was hard to read his expression, but Bastan thought he almost seemed curious. When he spoke again, it was in the Aeridian of Bastan’s father. “Did it sound more like this?” he asked. “Yes!” Bastan answered in the same tongue. A surge of delight rushed through him, but his vocabulary fell short of his glee. He could only grin as the prince gave a slight, satisfied nod. “It’s an eastern dialect,” he said. “Common along the border.” For Bastan, the explanation meant little to nothing. He didn’t mind; here was someone who spoke his father’s language, who knew it more intimately than anyone else Bastan had ever met. He wanted to press for more, to ask questions and stumble through conversation. He felt almost childlike in his delight. The prince, though, didn’t seem to share his giddiness. He just looked tired as he lifted his hand to press against his bandaged shoulder. “I’ve never met someone who knew it,” Bastan couldn’t help saying. “Even Halle speaks it differently.” “Halle speaks Ancelmic,” the prince said, rubbing his eye tiredly. “Likely a merchant family.” He paused, brow furrowing as if some thought had just occurred to him. Whatever it was, he let it go without a fight and dropped his arm back down. Watching him, Bastan felt his excitement subside. There would always be tomorrow. “Why don’t you try to get some sleep?” he suggested. “I’ll be here if you need anything.” The prince nodded slightly, as if too fatigued to say more, and eased his body back down gingerly onto his left side. He made no move to pull the blanket up over his torso. For a moment, Bastan nearly did it for him, as he would for Aven when she fell asleep before she meant to. He held back, though; given how proud the prince was, how standoffish, he couldn’t imagine he’d appreciate being treated like a child. Despite lying down, the prince still held himself tense. After a moment, Bastan stood and made his way to the hearth. He angled himself so that he could keep an eye on the prince but so that it was clear he wasn’t just watching him. It took a while longer, but finally, from the corner of his eye, Bastan saw the prince exhale and settle a little more fully into the bedroll. He still didn’t look relaxed, but at least that taut wariness had abated. Bastan turned his attention to the fire, nudging a half-burnt log further in. It was hardly the first time he’d kept watch over one of Mamán’s patients, and it was easy to split his attention so that he was peripherally aware of the prince while his mind turned elsewhere. They’d said he didn’t seem to have much will left, but Bastan had seen the intent in the prince’s eyes at the mention of Aeridian. There was will there, he was sure. It was just a matter of finding some purpose onto which he could seize. It was an easier question to ask than answer, and he stewed over it as the fire burnt low.

[illyrian-bitch-queen]

Flaming Stars, Chapter 2

So, I’m going to start posting these every Friday instead of Thursday (Weekends are better for me in terms of classes, and I think there are probably more people active on weekends as well).

Anyway, here’s chapter two of the TOG/ACOTAR crossover fic. Enjoy[even though it’s a bit short, but hey-exposition, amiright?]!

Chapter One

**

“You have to be joking.”

The bright man gave Feyre a flashing grin as he shrugged, his hands clasped behind his back, his ostentatious jewelry glinting in the golden sun.

“We've never known what exactly it is.”

Feyre looked at the tall mirror with narrowed eyes, her gaze skimming over every inch of it, including her own reflection, as if trying to pick out any mistakes, any sign that the mirror was more than just what it appeared.

“It's a damn mirror, Helion,” she finally said, turning to him sharply with a raised brow. Rhys chuckled a little at Helion’s slight pout in response.

“It doesn't behave as a mirror should. The reflections aren't always entirely accurate and the glass began to pulse and waver two mornings ago. We don't know what caused it. We're still not entirely sure, but we've seen glimpses of what looks like a different location inside of it.”

Helion looked proud of the mystical artifact he'd discovered. Apparently, the mirror had been a gift from a strange woman centuries ago, given to his court as a sign of friendship for a debt owed. It'd had no kind of significance beyond that until, apparently, a few days ago.

Helion had contacted Rhys and his mate immediately, convinced that Feyre would be able to understand it somehow. Rhys had grumbled at the call for aid. Any time there was some kind of unknown in the magic world now, the High Lords all called for his mate--and he wasn’t jealous that they went to her instead of him. He was just...annoyed that they all bothered her with things he could certainly handle. Or, at least, that’s what he told her.

Regardless, when Feyre had received the information that Helion’s mysterious mirror had flashed suddenly and blindingly enough to cause alarm through the court, she had agreed to take a look without hesitation.

Now, she just looked at it the artifact doubtfully, reaching out one finger to tap her nail against the glass and cocking her head to the side, an inquisitive gleam in her eyes. “The last time a mirror showed me anything other than my own body back to me in its reflection it nearly killed me.”

An understatement. It had nearly broken her mind. Rhysand gripped her free hand tighter, almost wanting to pull her away from the mirror. Helion dipped his head in respectful understanding, his expression sobering as he gestured for two of his men to bring a heavy golden fabric forward. They draped it over the mirror, being careful not to brush the glass with their skin. Feyre didn't look away from it until it was fully concealed.

“We believe it's a method of communication. We’ve theorized that there may be another mirror somewhere, and the false reflections we're seeing may be what the other half is reflecting.”

Feyre finally looked to Rhys.

‘What do you think?’  Her voice drifted into his mind, caressing his thoughts.

‘It's worth watching. We don't know where that other mirror could be--’

‘If he's right about it.’

There was something in her tone that gave Rhys pause. He looked at her with a furrowed brow. She sounded like she already knew Helion was wrong, like she was certain, despite not knowing anything about this.

“I'd like to take it back to Velaris,” Feyre said, her gaze drifting back to the mirror with keen interest. “Amren may be able to help me decipher it.”

Helion, to his credit, only hesitated for a brief moment. “Temporarily, I presume?”

Feyre looked up and gave him a wolf’s grin. “Of course. I don't need any more dangerous mirrors in my court for indefinite amounts of time, thank you. I'll have it back to you in...oh, give it a week and a half.”

Rhys forced his face to remain impassive, despite the twitching he felt in his brows and lips. A week and a half? She thought she could sort this thing out so quickly?

Feyre didn’t even look at her before her words floated into his mind. ‘Whatever is happening with this mirror is happening quickly. I’d give it days before we discover what it is, one way or another.’

Well. That was...comforting.

Helion nodded, spreading his hands wide. “Then it's yours, for now. Study it, hopefully you'll be able to decipher it better than I have.”

Feyre hummed, appearing to be lost in thought as she gazed at the mirror once again.

Rhys looked over his mate’s shoulder, meeting Helion’s gaze. Neither man was comforted by the exchange. Rhys saw unfailing confidence in the other High Lord’s gaze, as if he believed whole-heartedly that Feyre would discover that the mirror was something glorious. And Rhys’ expression was certainly the opposite, a diluted marker of the dread he was beginning to feel when he looked at the covered mirror.

**

Feyre stared into the mirror for hours, sitting cross-legged before it on the floor. Her husband had given her time for the first hour, but had appeared alarmed when he came back into the empty room it had been deposited in inside of the House of Wind to see her still sitting before it, staring as intently as she had the first moment she'd seen it.

He finally cracked at around the four hour mark. Her eyes had begun to flick back and forth over the mirror, as if she was watching her reflection move in it--only she was still. Thankfully, Rhys had not seen the mirror fail to move with her, had not seen any of the false images that Helion had reported. But he wasn’t so sure that Feyre wasn’t seeing them, and that was worse to him somehow.

“Feyre, you're worrying me,” Rhys said, crouching behind her and placing a hand on her shoulder. She hummed something, but her lips were moving as if she were speaking to someone silently. “Feyre,” Rhys implored, squeezing her shoulder gently. “Darling, please--”

“I'm fine,” Feyre uttered, her eyes still moving wildly. Rhys shook his head, the movement in the mirror finally catching her sight and stabilizing her, making her eyes and lips still. His nerves were nearly shot by then, but the mating bond had not gone tense like it did when she was in danger. Rhysand couldn’t determine what that meant, but he knew it didn’t comfort him in any way.

“You're not fine. What is that thing doing?”

“It's...showing me,” she answered, meeting the gaze of his reflection. “I see...fae. But not like us. Fae with sharp teeth and...they change forms, but differently than Tamlin.” Her words were slow and stilted, as if her vocabulary was coming to her in fragments. “It's...odd. There are kingdoms, kingdoms full of humans and fae alike, coexisting.”

Rhys looked on with concern. It was like a dream. It was exactly what the both of them had dreamt of, but had been unable to enact, even twenty years after the end of the war. There was so much involved, and they were only in the first stages still. To do something like that, to know of a world with intermixing of the humans and fae...it would be a miracle, a gift from the mother.

But the mirror made him uncomfortable. It reminded him of a living thing and it made him want to pull his mate far away from it. Living things had their own agendas, and they had power.

“It's showing you your dream,” Rhys said slowly. “It's drawing you in, Feyre. It may be showing you a new world--we've encountered strange enough for me to believe that--but I think the odds are in favor of this being a wicked magic, or even just a harmless falsehood.”

But Feyre’s eyes were steady when they met his, their gazes still only meeting through the mirror. “It isn't a lie,” she said, her voice more serious than he'd heard it in a while.

He hesitated before sighing. “Alright. What do you want to do with it?”

[descriptivewritingprompts893]

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[cygnahime]

Okay, by unpopular request, Troll Final Fantasy XV. Under a cut because I love you and want you to be happy, or at least not forced to read my Certified Bad Opinions.

So, let’s start in the center and work our way out. The central story is clearly the tale of Prince Noctis And His Pale Harem. Like, it’s 100% a self-indulgent Harem AU of itself. Because, see, ever since Noctis was little he was basically Assigned Ignis and Gladio as his moirails, because obviously as the Crown Prince his physical and emotional stability is too important to be left to chance. [N.B. Noctis is clearly a tyrianblood, like, that’s not remotely up for debate. Unusually short-lived tyrianbloods? The Crystal drains their energy, making their lifespans unnaturally brief? IDK it’s Troll Fiction.] Ignis is there to take care of his physical wellbeing and support him emotionally, and Gladio is there to protect him and be honest with him.

BUT! One of the awkward things about growing up in an arranged moirallegiance with someone is that it isn’t always all that romantic. And Noctis is kind of a shit moirail to both of them, because he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing and also they’ve just. Always been there. So he doesn’t completely think of them as romantic relationships that he has to put work into. I mean, obviously he supports them financially and politically, but that just sort of happens without his active input.

Enter Prompto! This lowblood [Probably some kind of weird Niflheim-specific blood caste passing as a Lucian lowblood? Fortunately the game doesn’t show blood spatter, so it’s easy to conceal from the audience, but the fandom has to bend over backwards to explain how the other characters don’t notice.] comes into Noctis’s life after a lot of Brotherhood-era drama about being Good Enough to be frenemies with The Crown Prince, but the important point is that Noctis is suddenly seized with the urge to support and protect him and has no idea what to do. Meanwhile, Prompto swears he just wanted to be frenemies! Really! But he wants to be there emotionally for Noct, who seems so lonely!

Most of the previous paragraph is wild fan speculation, but like. That motel roof scene is the palesmut equivalent of sex in semi-public places. GET A PILE, YOU TWO! There are some people who redship it, but imo the writers intended it to be pale.

What really gets the fans into heated debate and/or wild flamewars is how the rest of the group’s relationships shake out. How do Ignis and Gladio feel about this serendipitous relationship pushing them aside? Is it a big pale orgy, or is there quadrant-swapping there? There’s a compelling argument to be made that Gladio and Noct fumble toward a black relationship, which fits their actual adult feelings much better than their arranged moirallegiance. There’s also an argument to be made that that shit goes rotten after Altissia, to the point where Ignis steps in to auspisticize. And then of course Noctis gets sucked into the Crystal and it all becomes kind of a moot point. :c

(The Troll Animaterrorists put in the time to animate some fucking hugs on their last night together, because despite being, you know, members of troll society, they’re not monsters.)

SPEAKING of arranged relationships, the forced/arranged matespritship between Noctis and Luna is still a thing, and the game is very coy about whether we’re supposed to think it’s serendipitous or not. I mean, they seem fond of each other, and they know each other’s vulnerabilities, but they haven’t met since they were children, so it’s hard to see if the concupiscent attraction is there. Fandom is divided: is it red? Is she pale for him too, because Noctis is just that much of a mess that everyone wants to comfort him? Are they platonic and both shipped red & pale with others? Fandom fight!

Speaking of Luna, I struggle to explain how trolls would depict her relationship with Ravus, because as we know trolls have no siblings. I mean, they’re clearly in a situation where they were raised together and are very attached to each other and are of the same bloodcaste [violet probably], but what does that...mean? I’m hesitant to say this, but troll culture might go for moirails. Like, really rubbish moirails, because Luna’s ability to control Ravus’s poor decisions and Ravus’s ability to protect Luna are both highly in question, but they’re trying. Extremely trying, in Ravus’s case. I’m not entirely comfortable putting siblings in a romantic relationship, but trolls don’t really have a concept of incest, so ??? Let’s not think about it too hard.

While I’m talking about things that make me uncomfortable, I’m not even going to try to explain Gladio’s and Iris’s relationship. They’re the same bloodcaste and were raised by their mutual ancestor and Gladio is supportive of Iris’s red crush on Noctis. Unless in troll AU it’s a black crush, which would at least be interesting. Let Teen Girls Have Innocent Black Crushes 2k17.

Circling back around, Prompto is the fandom pale bicycle. [I can tell because there’s an entire tag on AO3 devoted to his suffering. It’s science.] There’s definitely a small but enthusiastic Prompto♦Aranea fandom since Episode Prompto came out, though it’s hampered somewhat by the fact that Aranea is written as kind of flat in her self-sufficiency. There’s also definitely some Prompto/Noctis/Luna in some red/pale combination or other, which I personally am all about. I mean, I’m the pale orgy person, it is I.

I’m sad to say that Ardyn♠Noctis is definitely a thing, canonically speaking. That’s what complicated murder/suicides are all about, in troll terms. It’s also literally destined, so there’s really no getting away from it, even though it’s manifestly an unhealthy relationship that does no one any favors. That or it’s Noctis♣Ardyn/the Astrals and/or the world at large, which you could also make a solid argument for. I think I prefer that, because that’s not how blackrom works at all. I’m pretty sure Ardyn is gunning for Noct’s pitch quadrant regardless, though not as hard as Loqi is gunning for Cor’s. With an actual gun. It’s doomed to be unrequited, because you will take aroace Cor from my cold dead hands. So I guess in troll AU he’s aconciliatory/aconcupiscent. (I say this just to demonstrate how little of the quadrant-specific vocabulary I have forgotten.)

Kingsglaive is a hard movie to pin down, quadrant-wise. Like, I definitely feel like there’s some kind of spark between Nyx and Luna, but it’s hard to pin down to one side of the red/black divide. There’s probably fic for both tbh. I guess canon keeps it ambiguous as well. I mean, they clearly respect each other, but also there’s a lot of sharing deep-seated insecurities. Personally, I’m all for healthy blackrom, as you know. Lunafreya could use a chance to clash with someone for fun.

Libertus is much more popular in the troll fandom than the human fandom. (Am I salty about the lack of fan content for my fave? Why would you say that?) He’s so soft and in such emotional distress! Your pale self-insert goes here! [Obviously all the Glaives are rust- or brown-bloods. The magic probably is replaced by unlocking latent psychic abilities. Or else they keep magic and this is a ~strange world~ where there are ~no psionics~.] Nyx and Libertus and probably Crowe are like...how Vriska and Terezi used to call each other ‘sisters’? Long-term stable nonquadrant cahootship? That’s them. I realize I had one use of ‘siblings’ in this post and I used in on characters who aren’t actually siblings, but nyeh. Maybe Gladio and Iris are also Troll Siblings. Cahootfriends. It’s not my fault Luna and Ravus kind of suck at being in cahoots.

And that I think covers most of the cast! This is only twelve million words long! I have so many thoughts, apparently! If you also have thoughts, please come share them! You are also a giant nerd and we should be friends!

[sexxmacfarlane-blog]

Hungry Eyes, Starving Heart

A Seth MacFarlane Fan Fiction

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: Hey everyone! I decided to make a fan account because my personal was not meant for writing. Its just random posts that I reblog. I honestly had no idea Seth had this many fans on tumblr. I used to write Teen Wolf fan fiction about a year ago so I’m a bit rusty but please leave feedback and if you want more chapters. Right now its PG but smut is to come in later!

What do most students do their senior year of high school? Party and have fun. They stay busy planning their prom dates, saving for senior trip and enjoying their last year as a child. But me? I am busy trying to make sure I get into my dream college, University of California-San Diego. I want to major in biology and spend my life studying various diseases then ultimately finding a cure for them. In order to achieve this sort of feat I am literally pushing myself to limit. Obtaining every possible credit I can get my hands on and perfecting my only extra curricular activity, choir. I am up to my eyeballs in things I have to get completed and if it weren’t for my best friend I wouldn’t know what to do.

“Top of the morning love!” Nora’s voice chimed into my ear. I shook my head out of my day dream.

“Morning you. Did you bring me one of those?” I asked while eyeing the large coffee she had in her hand.

“This one is yours, I already downed mine. Wow you look like shit El. What’s wrong?” She sounded like a total mom.

“Thanks and I appreciate the compliment too. I didn’t sleep much last night. Was up late finishing my summer projects. I had so much I couldn’t finish everything in time. My dad made me go on vacation for 2 weeks and that took up a lot of valuable time.” I finished with a shrug.

“Elise you have always been the smartest girl in school. Your grades are fine. Why so much worry? Its our senior year! Let’s relax before we both go off to big bad college.” Nora said sweetly. She honestly means well but simply doesn’t understand.

“Nora you know I have to get into San Diego. Its my dream. I have to earn my keep, I just can’t waltz in! Now please quiz me.”

I handed her a deck of flash cards for English and had her quiz me on the definitions. She showed me each word and I stated the definitions with ease. We were almost done with the deck when something, or someone I should say caught my eye. Entering the cafeteria was a man I had never seen before. He carried a brief case and was wearing a teacher I.D. badge. I couldn’t stop myself from watching him as he went through the line and grabbed a quick meal. He thanked the cafeteria clerk with a bright warm smile. My lips automatically twitched into barely noticeable a grin. He was contagious.

“Earth to Elise, hello? You mean to tell me you can’t tell me the definition of personification after acing the college level vocabulary in the first half of the deck?” I could hear Nora but I wasn’t able to speak. The mysterious man had me completely entranced. Finally she noticed what I was staring at.

“Oh okay, I bet that’s the new English teacher, you know Mrs. Holloway is on maternity leave for the rest of the year right?” Nora asked.

“Yeah he must be, I have never seen that man before in my life. Wow I had no idea she wouldn’t be coming back?” I replied.

“Oh yeah she said 6 weeks wasn’t long enough and she wasn’t ready to leave her baby just yet. I doubt she will ever come back! So I guess you did most of this summer work for nothing.” Her tone was playful now, she found this funny.

“Well hopefully he will pick up where she left off. I want to stay above the game regardless. Was it just me or was he kinda cute ?” I asked. Nora snorted and almost choked on her spit.

“What? That old guy? He’s was like what 40? No way El. What’s wrong with you? He is old enough to be our dad for christ’s sake!” My face instantly turned red. Yeah she’s right I thought to myself, too old and I was crazy for thinking he was cute. Get a grip Elise.

“Never mind I mean from a distance he looked cute.” Nora nodded and just like that brushed the whole situation off. She was too busy scrolling through her phone to continue caring. I nibbled at the rest of my breakfast while reading a book. After what felt like an eternity the bell rang out to dismiss us to 1st period. I had AP physics and had no idea who my classmates were going to be. Nora was my only real friend and no offense she didn’t care about school as much as I did. And all of my classes were AP besides choir of course which was the only class I had with her. The first 4 classes went by slowly. They were spent handing out books and going over the syllabus. I was starving by the time lunch came around. Unfortunately Nora and I didn’t share the same lunch period either so here I was stuck defending for myself while trying to find a seat. The indoor cafeteria was absolutely full, the tables outside were also. I wandered the grounds until I found an empty picnic table by a tree. It was vacant thanks to its distance from the school. I didn’t mind though, I always left lunch early anyways to ensure I wouldn’t be tardy. I sat down with my tray and continued reading in my book since I was alone. I popped earbuds in to better concentrate on the words in front of me. Mindlessly munching down on a cheese burger I was startled by a tray dropping on the table. I quickly jumped up while yanking my headphones out.  

“Oh my apologies, I didn’t mean to startle you. I was just looking for a spot to eat, apparently this is the most crowded lunch period and  I noticed you had this whole table to yourself. Mind if I join you?” I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was the new teacher that I spotted from this morning. He was even more breath taking up close. His dark brown eyes that resembled coal earlier were now like honey in the sunlight, his smile was beautiful thanks to his spotless white teeth. His jet black hair was styled very casual in a sort of messy quiff. I noted then he was very tall too, especially compared to my short stature. I must have looked like an ant through his eyes. I struggled to find my words but eventually did.

“Oh of course pl…please sit. I was just really into my book and didn’t see you. No one ever bothers me when they see I have headphones in.”  I replied with a small smile.

“Thank you miss. I’m new here so I’m not too keen with all the rules. I’m Mr. MacFarlane by the way. You are?” He said while extending his hand out. I softly grabbed it as he shook softly.

“I’m Elise Goodman. You are the new English teacher correct?” I said curiously. I tried not to sound nervous. He was so gorgeous that it was becoming intimidating.

“Pleasure meeting you Ms. Goodman. And yes I’m Mrs. Holloways replacement. I must say I’m pretty nervous. I have been subbing at the college for quite sometime. High schoolers? That’s a whole new world.” His voice was beyond beautiful, it was deep and elegant. He sounded like someone who should talk on the radio or voice the previews in movie theaters. I was hanging onto every word that fell from his lips. He spoke about moving here from a neighboring town, he said most of the teachers here weren’t very welcoming. He claims because of his previous position but I think it’s because of his physical appearance. He looked like a model in comparison to the rest of the staff. Most of the teachers here were either old or super nerdy. His profession didn’t fit his appearance at all.

“Richard Dawkins? Really?” He asked while pointing down to my book.

“Uh yeah I am kind of a biology freak. Mr. Dawkins is my hero.” I said with a blush. He noticed and smiled at me.

“Why are you embarrassed? That is something to be proud of. You seek education. Do you know how rare that is these days?” He sounded like an angel speaking to me. Once again my cheeks told on me.

“Well I…I’m a dork. That’s not something to be proud of. I am literally teased for being myself which just so happens to be a huge nerd. I love science more than most 18 year old girls.” He laughed  at my reply. I felt hurt, that wasn’t meant to be funny at all it was the truth.

“You shouldn’t care what your peers think. In 10 years you will be successful and they will be assistant managers in a super market down town. You will go places while they are stuck with minimum wage.” Wow he was blunt. Not really in a rude way but in a literal manner. He wasn’t afraid to speak his mind and I envied that. I was always too scared to say anything in fear of making someone mad.

“I have never really thought of it that way before?” I bit my lip and looked down at my watch. I gasped and gathered my things up.

“I am so sorry but I have to leave now, I can’t be late for 5th period. I’m always early for class and this one is on the other side of the building. It was great talking with you Professor MacFarlane! Thank you for sitting with me.” I pushed my glasses up onto my nose and threw my bag over my shoulder. I dropped my book on the ground and quickly bent over to pick it up when I realized my skirt had climbed further up my waist. Damn uniforms were always messing up. I grabbed the book up quickly and threw it into my bag. I shimmed my skirt down hoping he hadn’t seen my underwear and half my ass. He cleared his throat loudly, I spotted a grin and I knew at that moment he had seen everything. How embarrassing! Great, I flashed the hot new English teacher after just meeting him. My face was now the color of a ripe tomato. I wanted to turn around and apologize but I couldn’t face him after that. I scurried away and bolted through the side door. Nora just so happened to be at her locker as I ran to her she laughed seeing me in my current state.

“Elise what the hell are you running from? The first bell hasn’t even rang yet.” She asked while I tried to catch my breath.

“Okay so the new English teacher his name is Mr. MacFarlane by the way, he joined me for lunch outside. And uh well I accidentally flashed him my whole ass! I bent over to pick up my book that fell and my skirt had slid up over my hips and bam. It was just on display. I could have died Nora! I was so embarrassed! He was way cool and now I ruined it.” Her eyes grew wide then she burst out into laughter.

“Only you El, only you. I swear that’s the best thing I’ve heard all day. Now every time he sees you in class he is going to think about your ass! Wait you had underwear on right? Or was it a thong?”  She asked in a serious tone.

“Fuck Nora I have regular underwear on! Thongs are very uncomfortable.” She rolled her eyes at my response.

“No they’re not, virgins don’t wear thongs. I forgot you have yet to be deflowered my little friend.” She patted my shoulder.

“Oh hush. I just haven’t found a guy I’m attracted to in that way yet.” I grumbled while digging around in my locker.

“I think you have. You’re hot for teacher aren’t you! No need to confess, I know you are, after your little statement this morning. You want the English teacher! God that’s so gross. He is ancient Elise. I mean at least settle for a college guy.” Nora went on ragging me into the next century.

“I am not hot for teacher! I mean he is insanely attractive, nice, intelligent and…fuck it. I am. Kill me now Nora!” I admitted defeat.

 Nora and I parted ways, I had 2 more classes before AP English. It was my last class of the day and I am not going to be able to look Mr. Macfarlane in the face. The next 2 periods went by too fast for my liking. I was biting my nails in AP European History just knowing when the bell chimed I would have to enter his classroom. I gathered my books for 7th period and made my way inside. Of course I was early, but thankfully he wasn’t in the room yet. I took a seat in the back of the class near the window. Within minutes the room started filling up. I watched the door anticipating him to be next. Then finally he stepped in. He had an large coffee in hand and a stack of papers.  

“Afternoon everyone. My name is Mr. Macfarlane. I am the new English teacher. I was working at the college but took this exciting new offer. High school is a whole new ball park but I look forward to this opportunity. Especially the fact that this is an AP class so that means you all actually give a shit. Pardon my French but I am simply being truthful.” We all laughed as his comment. We knew exactly what he meant. He passed out the syllabus and went over it. He was picking up where right around where Mrs. Holloway left off and I was relieved. He told us the summer projects needed to be left on his desk at the end of the week. Thankfully he was easy on us since it was the first day and we spent the rest of the class talking amongst ourselves. I didn’t really like anyone else in this class so I went straight to reading. I was alone in the back corner and that’s how I liked it. Everyone else chattered in groups and my ears picked up on a nearby conversation. It was Laura Compton and her friends. They were the class bitches. No one liked them but every guy wanted to sleep with them. And they were known for getting around town. Okay now I sound like a 70 year old man. To put it bluntly they were just a bunch of whores. Laura was going on about how hot Mr. Macfarlane was. So I wasn’t the only one…Nora just has bad taste. Anyways the way they were talking about him was making my blood boil. Like he was an animal up on the auctioning block. They were only interested in a fuck. I actually wanted to get to know him better, he was so sweet and interesting. I ground my teeth at their words. I couldn’t focus on my book anymore. I looked up at the clock and it was almost time for the dismissal bell. When I looked up Mr. Macfarlane’s eyes were glued to me. I quickly looked back down. Then he stood up and made an announcement.

“I need to see Elise Goodman after class.” Hearing him say my name made my heart skip a beat. Laura and her clique casted their glares at me. I could feel their eyes burning into my skin. Minutes then passed like seconds and the bell rang out. I stayed seated while everyone else filed out of the room. I couldn’t help but squirm when I heard his footsteps. I looked up to see him smiling as he sat on top of the desk in front of me.

“Look about earlier, I’m so sorry. I am beyond embarrassed and ashamed. I swear it wasn’t intentional sir. I’m not like that at all!” I spat out before he had a chance to even say anything.  He chuckled at my distressed state.

“Elise please, you don’t have to apologize. Accidents happen. I know you aren’t “like that” And I’m not mad at you, far from it actually.” He said with a sweet smile.

“Really? I was worried all day about the whole situation. These old skirts are not easy to work with sometimes. And I didn’t want to make a bad first impression. “ I replied quickly stammering on before realizing the last part of his reply. He said he wasn’t mad, far from it…was he hinting to something else? He had liked what he had seen?  No way I’m overthinking it. I was now silent. I looked up to see him grinning. My face flushed bright red. That is when I felt something between us. Almost like a magnetic force. With every fiber of my being I wanted to jump at him and just kiss those perfect lips. How I kept myself restrained I’ll never know. That’s when I could feel my underwear soaking by the second. Never before in my life had I felt this way towards someone. Of course I’ve have had crushes before but that was the extent of it. I never pictured myself pouncing one of them. If I were being honest, I wanted to do more than just kiss the man in front of me. I remained silent though, I was afraid to speak.

“I look forward to reading your summer projects. You can tell a lot about a person from the way they interpret classic works of literature. The way a book speaks to a person is a reflection of their mind and some say even their soul.” He spoke like a true poet.

“I couldn’t agree more sir.” I replied in almost a whisper. I was completely drawn to this man whom I just met. Could he possibly feel the same way? No….stop it Elise.

“See you tomorrow Ms. Goodman.” He said while gathering my books up for me. He held them while I stood up and threw my bag over my shoulder.

“Uhm thank you, see you tomorrow Professor Macfarlane.” I walked out of the room holding my breath. I skipped to my locker to put my books away. The hallways were almost empty. Aside from Nora who stood by our lockers with her arms folded.

“What took you so long El? I’ve been waiting on you forever!” She said in an annoyed tone.

“Sorry I had to stay after class. Mr. Macfarlane needed to ask me something about the summer project. I hope he goes easy on the grading.” I tried to act casual.

“Oh. Well I bet you liked that. One on one time with your crush.” She winked at me. I had to be inconspicuous about this. I didn’t want to start anything that could cause trouble.

“It was okay. I mean he’s cute but you’re right. Definitely too old. I do need to get out in the dating game, we just have slim pickings in our class though so it won’t be easy.” Nora slammed her locker and stared at me.

“Are you serious? Little miss book worm is wanting to try dating?” Oh no Nora was going to take this too far.

“Well not exactly. But if a guy asked me on a date I wouldn’t be so quick to say no. I mean it is about time I gave in.” She was literally jumping up and down. I could already tell she was going to make this a big deal.

“Say no more! If I find you a date you have to go on it okay?” She asked while tugging on my arm.

“I guess. I mean it depends on who it is. I have high standards you know!” She nodded and squealed. We left the building and made our way to the parking lot, Nora always had her brother pick her up after school, he went to college on the other side of town and I walked home. I only lived a few minutes from the school and I enjoyed the scenery.

“Want a ride El?” Nora’s brother Jake asked. I politely declined. I had to work this afternoon at the local book store. It was on down in town which was a 10 minute walk past my house. I didn’t want to make them go out of the way. The siblings pulled out of the lot and I began my journey towards the book store.

[bkwrm523]

In the Shadows of Mid-World: The Door.  Chapter 1

Title: In the Shadows of Mid-World: The Door Rating: Explicit Author: Not me, but my boyfriend Andy who does not have a tumblr. Pairing: Eventual Susan/OC Word Count: 4131 Warnings: Romantic angst, violence, sacrifice by fire, smut Summary: 17-year-old Ronnie Gage from New York City in 2017 is having very vivid dreams about a place called Hambry and a girl named Susan Delgado. Author’s Blogger’s Note: This is for the Dark Tower series by Stephen King.  This is only the first chapter.  If you want me to tag you in this, reblog or comment on the post.

The dream began the way it always did. I’m sitting astride my horse Rusher, on the spot near The Drop where I often go to be alone and to think. My thoughts were heavy with a great many things, like my mother’s betrayal, my father’s face, Marten Broadcloak, my friends Cuthbert and Alain’s loss of faith in me, Eldred Jonas and his so-called Big Coffin Hunters, John Farson, Gilead and of course...Susan. For weeks I’ve tried to put Susan out of my mind for both our sakes...but to no avail. All I could think of was that last time we spoke together, when we kissed, when she said to me so sweetly, almost pleadingly “If you love me, then love me. Make me break my promise.” As much as I wanted to, as much as I wanted her...I told her I couldn’t. I kept thinking of what might happen to her if she broke her obligation to Mayor Thorin, of what might happen to us both. But alas, neither Susan nor I were gifted with The Touch like my good friend Alain. She couldn’t see into my thoughts and know that I was only trying to act in her best interests. Tearfully and angrily she jumped on her horse and rode off, no doubt feeling both hurt and rejected, as I allowed myself to shed tears of my own...preparing myself for the knowledge that I probably would never see her again.

I tried to once again put this painful memory of the lovely Susan Delgado out of my mind and once again I failed...because I saw her with my own two eyes. She was many yards below and away from where I sat upon Rusher, riding her own threaded mount Felicia toward a willow grove, her well fitted white sleeveless dress being the only thing cutting through the darkness. My heart jumped around inside my chest at the very sight of her. I so desperately wanted to chase after her, to cry her pardon for saying no to her offer of the most precious gift that any girl can give to a boy or man. I desperately wanted to tell her how much she owned of my heart...to beg her to repeat her offer. But I thought better of it, I had made the painful decision to stay away from her for a good reason and if I so easily abandoned that vow...then I had truly indeed forgotten the face of my father! So I took up Rusher’s reins and prepared to ride back to town, back to the Bar K bunkhouse where Cuthbert and Alain were sleeping, back to my mission and life as a Gunslinger! But as I turned to leave, I caught sight of something that was quite odd to me. Susan was riding bareback...she always rode with a saddle, meaning she had mounted her horse in a hurry...meaning that something was very wrong in her world. Against the logical verdict of my better judgement, I tugged on Rusher’s reins, gently kicked my boot heels into his sides and rode off in the direction of the willow grove.

I left Rusher near the edge of the willow grove and crept inward on foot. I immediately caught sight of Susan kneeling on the ground next to a brook. Her back was to me, so I could see her beautiful blonde hair fashioned into a braid that nearly reached down to her rear. As I got closer I could see her shoulders involuntarily jerking up and down and I could hear short, choked gasps coming from her throat...meaning that she was crying. I abandoned my stealthy approach instantly and walked toward her. The first branch that snapped under my boot startled Susan and caused her to look over her shoulder. The second branch that snapped under my boot and caused her to turn in my direction. “GO AWAY!”, she desperately screamed through her tears. “GO AWAY, whoever ye are, be decent and leave me alone!” But as soon as those beautiful stormy gray eyes fixed upon me, her anguish momentarily dissipated. It was a crime to see those eyes that I had often found myself lost within, flooded and red with tears. As soon as I reached her, I knelt down to her level and put my arms around her. She reciprocated by hugging me tightly lest I blew away like smoke in the wind...then she began to cry again.

She asked me how I knew where she was and I told her. I told her how I saw her riding bareback across The Drop and how I believed that something was wrong. With fresh tears streaming down her face and soaking into my shirt, she pitifully responded, “Everything’s wrong!” Without hesitation, I began to kiss her tears away like my mother may have done had I fallen down and hurt myself as a child. I tasted the saltiness of her tears each time my lips made contact with her cheeks. When I was certain that my kisses had done their work, I gently took her by the shoulders and held her back from me so I could look into those gray eyes. Then as my heart beat with the vigor of one hundred stampeding horses, I say the words I so desperately wanted to say to her for weeks. But as the words emerged from my mouth, I knew I was setting something into motion that couldn’t be stopped. I said to her, “Say it again and I will Susan. I don’t know if that’s a promise or a warning or both at the same time, but...say it again and I will.”

At that moment, Susan ceased her agonized sobbing and her face was overcome by a look of blissful indecision. My feverishly romantic heart begged her to say it again while my viciously logical mind demanded her silence. Those beautiful gray eyes soon had an answer. “Roland!”, she said. “Yes, Susan”, I replied. Before any real notion of stopping her could take root within my mind, Susan moved her small feminine hand to the spot under my belt buckle and through my jeans she took hold of the weapon God had placed between my legs for the purpose of which we were now upon the brink. “If you love me, then love me”, she said with that same sweet and pleading voice as before. Knowing that the point of no return had already been passed, I replied, “Aye, lady. I will!”

Within moments, my shirt was off and had become a crumpled mass upon the ground. Susan had her hands busy with unfastening my belt while I took hold of the shoulder straps of her dress to slide it off of her. Soon our clothes were strewn about the ground and I had Susan’s heavenly nude form pressed against me as I held her in my arms and kissed her passionately. I kept my hands firmly planted on her hips and she kept hers planted on my shoulders. Using the knowledge I had gained from my disappointing first encounter with the pretty whore from Gilead, I began to nuzzle her neck while gently massaging her back and rear. She gasped, moaned and wriggled under my touch, evidently my hands were gifted with giving pleasure as well as shooting. She tightly gripped my shoulders, stood tiptoed and began to lick and nibble on my ear...nearly banishing what was left of my reason from this world.

My senses were overwhelmed with stimuli, which only augmented the experience. There was the scent of the damp night air, the light of the moon, the softness of Susan’s skin, the breeze cooling our rapidly warming bodies, her lips nibbling on my ear, the sound of her breath, the throbbing in my stiffening cock, the warmth radiated by her virgin pussy and a great many more sensations. The one that resonated the most to me, the one that bore the greatest importance to me was the moment when Susan joined one of her soft delicate hands with mine. Our intertwined fingers became a symbolic extension of our brief union. Through the haze of ecstasy, I am able to grasp my reason and pull it back to my plane of existence. I lifted Susan into my arms like she was my bride and I was carrying her across the threshold to the marital bed. I laid her down gently next to the brook and focused all of my attention on her.

I began to kiss her body. I kissed her legs, her thighs, her belly, her chest, her neck and her mouth. I refrained from touching her pussy with my mouth...although I wanted to. I wanted to slide my tongue inside of her and taste her...but I felt that should wait until she told me that she was ready for that. After kissing her lips like a drowning man desperate for air, I turned my attention to her breasts. I took them into my gifted hands with a firm yet gentle grip and began to suckle on her nipples. My actions elicited welcome sounds of delightful moaning from Susan as her body wriggled beneath me.

I switched nipples every few seconds with my hands tending to the one absent from my mouth. Apparently my equal attention to her nipples met with my lady’s approval, because I felt the quick motion of her hand running down the length of her body as she began to tend to her pussy with feverish delight. When I felt her nipples stiffen between my lips and fingers, I gently began to apply pressure with my teeth. Susan gasped and moaned so loud that small animals hiding in the nearby bushes became startled and fled. The misery and angst that had haunted her for months was gone, replaced with love, affection and pleasure she had never known...which I was more than happy to give. I really didn’t care about my own needs at that particular moment...because my Susan was happy. Suddenly I felt Susan grip my cock and she began to slowly stroke it, her hand was quite slick from the attention she had given her pussy and it must have been as wet as the brook. Our eyes met and with the silent vocabulary that we were making up as we went along...she told me that she was ready for me.

With my cock now as solid as the barrels of the guns of Arthur Eld, I took it into my hand and slowly found my way inside Susan. While she was very wet, she was also very tight. Unused to my girth, she winced with some discomfort, her tears were now those of physical pain instead of emotional anguish. I continued to slowly and gently inch my cock deeper to limit her discomfort, but the deeper I went, the more she whimpered. Soon I felt some resistance within and she loudly groaned in pain...I had reached her maiden head. I was now conflicted, do I withdraw a little to give her some relief? Or do I keep going? I looked into those gray eyes for an answer...and once again I found one.

She looped her legs around my knees and pulled me deeper into her. She cried out in pain and then...I was all the way in. My hilt was against the lips of her pussy and my balls were against her rear. Tears were still lightly trickling from her eyes...but she was smiling regardless. I kissed her long and passionately, her tongue entered my mouth I regarded it as consent to keep going. I withdrew my cock from Susan’s pussy a little bit, then I pushed my way back in. Out and in, out and in, out and in. I stared into Susan’s eyes and was relieved to see the tears stop. Her whimpers of pain subsided and became moans of pleasure...it was starting to feel good and she was loving it.

I quickened my pace slightly, I thrusted into her with more power and her moaning became louder and more frequent. With her legs still looped around my knees she pulled me in deep when I thrusted into her and then relinquished when I withdrew...out and in, out and in, out and in. We were like dancers joined in an erotic waltz and she was matching my rhythm perfectly. As my boldness and confidence grew, I thrusted even quicker and harder...and Susan had no trouble keeping up with me. Soon I was moaning right along with her as the head of my cock tingled with the nirvana it had discovered within the soft folds of her pussy. My heart was pounding, I could barely breathe, sweat was dripping off of my forehead and onto her body. This may have been Susan’s first time, but she already had such unbridled passion within that she now shared with me. It was my second time...but I felt as ecstatic and as nervous when I lost my virginity.

The tingling sensation had reached my balls and only intensified. If God had seen fit to strike me dead...I would’ve wanted it to be at this moment and would’ve had no regrets. We kissed, I thrusted into her, she pulled me deeper...out and in, out and in, out and in. We spoke no words as we had no breath to spare, but we looked into one another’s eyes and we knew that we were both close to climax. She kissed me again, playfully nibbling on my lower lip...her wordless way of saying that she was nearly ready to cum. So I summoned up my final reserves of energy and gave Susan everything I had. She moaned as loud as her lungs could manage could manage and my own moans were close behind. Out and in, out and in, out and in...we were so close.

Susan gripped the back of my neck and brought my forehead flush with hers. As I threw all of my energy into one final thrust, we stared into each other's eyes as we reached the brink. Susan came first, her moans crescendoing into a deafening near scream. The contractions deep within her pussy pushed me over the brink and I came inside of her. Our sounds of passion merged together as we held each other tightly, our bodies shuddered as the pleasure we felt rose up from our loins and washed over us like a warm wave. We panted like we had just been chased by the devil himself, I felt the last traces of seed exit my cock and felt a chill up my spine as the cool breeze struck me. Our muscles relaxed and I rested my head on Susan’s shoulder while she ran her fingers through my hair and massaged my scalp. I raised my head, met her eyes again and we kissed...the perfect finale to this wonderful encounter.

I pulled my softening cock out of Susan’s pussy and rolled onto my back next to her. I briefly took in the sight of her as she lay there. Her breasts rose and fell with each breath she took, her skin glistened with sweat and her pussy was spattered with traces of blood and my seed. Her eyes were closed and she was at peace. As my eyelids grew heavy with exhaustion, I lay there looking at my Susan, whose virginity was now only a memory. For better or worse, we were now lovers.

We lay there hip to hip, basking in the sweet afterglow for what seemed a pleasant eternity when Susan broke the silence. “Roland?”, she asked. “Yes?”, I answered. With a voice both sweet and unsure she asked, “Will thee take care of me?” I tell her yes...but I feel the dull yet ever present pain of guilt as I do. She then voices her quite warranted concerns to me. There was the matter of her obligation to Mayor Thorin, which had now been broken by our act of love. Then there was the seed I had deposited in her womb that would very likely grow into a baby. I managed to find the right words to reassure her, I told her that “Whatever comes, we’ll do as we must. And I’ll always love you, no matter what comes”. I told her that she would never go to Mayor Thorin’s bed. I said,  “That you can count on. I set my warrant on it”  But as I see her worries fade from her troubled brow, I feel like a liar with every word that comes out of my mouth. I know that I am making her promises that I cannot keep...that I will not keep! But for the life of me I cannot fathom why it is so!

As the fog of memory comes to erase my surroundings, I see that warm smile adorn her lips. I feel her soft delicate hand grip my cock, which had begun to stiffen again. “Here’s a warrant ye can set on me, if ye would,” she said. I smiled, pulled her close and kissed her. As the fog comes closer, I revel in the glimpse I catch of Susan’s moist pussy as she mounts me for our second time together. I run my hands up the length of her body and hold her breasts with the same firm yet gentle grip as before. As the fog clears away the willow grove, I catch sight of Susan’s stormy gray eyes one last time. She is happy, content...and free!

The dream ended the way it always did...or so it seemed! I was in the middle of the town of Hambry, within the midst of a mob at least two hundred strong maybe more. Their demeanor was a toxic mixture of rage, euphoria and hysteria. I laid eyes upon a sight dead ahead that I sadly knew very well. It was a charyou tree as the locals called it. Every year during the Reaptide festival the folks of Hambry would burn the charyou tree along with a sacrifice to bring life to the next year’s crops, sometimes a human sacrifice if they were lucky. This year they were cursed with wonderful luck, bought with blood. Hambry’s beloved Mayor Thorin had been murdered and the hag known to all as Rhea of the Coos had convinced them that the perfect sacrifice would be the the treacherous little cunt responsible...or so they were told. So I watched  as a small wagon brought forth the unfortunate sacrifice to the charyou tree...the lovely Susan Delgado.

I watch as she is lifted from the wagon, over the heads of the bloodthirsty crowd to the top of the pile of dried cornhusks that will serve as the fuel for the bonfire. Her beautiful face is swollen and bruised from the obvious beating she was thrown, her lips move in words of silent prayer as some of the frenzied horde she once called her friends and neighbors tied her to the charyou tree. This chain of events was forever burned into my memory, but this time it felt...wrong! Not just morally wrong...but inaccurate. I couldn’t understand why, the circumstances played out as they had always done so far! Next the bonfire would be lit, Susan would give a brave and defiant final declaration of some kind, then she would be burned alive and the hellish inferno would erase her beauty and spirit from existence. I knew these events quite well...along with their perpetual effect on me...so why did this feel all wrong?!

After a few precious seconds of searching my memory archive, I had an answer. They felt wrong because I had always been miles away from Hambry when these events transpired. I remembered very clearly being near Eyebolt Canyon with Cuthbert and Alain right after killing Eldred Jonas and several followers of John Farson himself, including his right hand man Latigo. I remember helplessly staring into the pink glass of  Maerlyn's Grapefruit and witnessing my Susan’s final moments...how my young romantic heart was broken and emptied of love...ready to be filled with something else. But this time was very different, because I now bore witness with my naked eyes. I was now standing shoulder to shoulder with her killers, who I now wanted to put down like the rabid billybumblers they were...my broken empty heart now filled with hate! Once I was safely miles away looking through enchanted glass, now I was close enough to see her body turn to ash, close enough to smell the odors of smoke and burning flesh, close enough to feel the heat from the flames, close enough to hear her scream. It’s a very different experience to witness the death of your beloved from only a few yards away, when you are so close yet so powerless to stop it.

I had grown used to to seeing Susan die from miles away, but I couldn’t bear to see it happen so close...so I shamefully looked away. I tried to ignore my Susan tied to the charyou tree with a cheering crowd about to set the ground beneath her alight, turning my sights on the starry sky or something less horrible. I ended up spotting something perplexing, something I had not seen for a long time. Far from the mob and the charyou tree, near the edge of the town square was an object that couldn’t possibly be there...yet I was compelled to move toward it. The object in question was a freestanding section of decrepit white wall. It was about eight feet high and plastered with graffiti, mostly variations of the words FUCK and SHIT, along with a quote, “Abandon all hope ye who enter here” Dead center of the wall was a six and a half foot door made of dark wood, with a brass knob and matching key plate. As I got closer, I saw other details I recognized, near the top of the door was a crest etched into the wood...a skull with two criss crossed revolvers. Underneath the crest were words engraved into the wood…”The boy” and “The maiden of the lake” This did indeed “look” like the door that had been absent from my dreams for five long years.

I reached out and touched the door with my hand and felt the smooth texture of the polished wood...it was definitely there! But why was it there? Why after five years had it reappeared to me now? Before I could begin to contemplate the meaning of the door’s appearance in Hambry, I heard my Susan far behind me defiantly and proudly yell, “ROLAND I LOVE THEE!!” I spun around to see her deep within the flames, about to vanish forever.

I run toward her with every ounce of strength and speed in my body, my hand reaching for her. I had only two possibilities running through my mind, either I get her off that goddamned fire...or I burn with her! I shout through my own tears of sorrow, “SUSAN DON’T GO!!!”, but she can’t hear me. I come to an abrupt stop against the mass of flesh that was the mob when her final words cry out from the flames, “ROLAND I LOVE THEE!!!!” The inferno consumes her as I sob and scream like a grief stricken child. I shout at the top of my lungs, “SUSAN I LOVE THEE!!!” I kick, punch and shove my way through the mob, hopelessly reaching for the bonfire so I can touch her one last time. The fog of memory comes...then I wake up.

I rose from sleep with my hand still reaching for her and I scream out into the darkness, “SUSAN I LOVE THEE!!!!” After a brief moment of confusion and disorientation, I realized that I was not in Hambry watching her die. Nor was I in the willow grove making sweet love to her. I was in a rented bed in a cheap motel room in New York city that I had paid for a week earlier with a fake ID. After catching my breath and re acclimating to the waking world, I collapsed onto the pillow...and I cried for a full fifteen minutes. Then just when I thought I would cry myself dry, I slipped into a mercifully dreamless sleep from which I would not emerge until 8:30 the next morning. This had been my life every night for nine long months...my name is Ronny Gage and this is my story!    

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10 Exercises That'll Make You Smarter In a Week

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10 Exercises That'll Make You Smarter In a Week

Ten workout routines on the way to make you smarter in per week oh ho I’ve been ready my entire lifestyles for this we all work out hard at the health club now, and then but how quite often can we train our brain? Sure, you will have to exercise it as good workouts video games and even meditation can help you with that are attempting them now and add this video to your favorites to make them part of your day-to-day movements you’ll see the primary outcomes in per week after which we will work even better for those who keep figuring out for a month coming down from number ten Enriching your vocabulary a wealthy vocabulary is a signal of a shrewd person isn’t it?

Reading books is an apparent approach to grow to be smarter however not anyone honestly have time for that at the moment here’s an answer this one-minute undertaking will support you in finding new approaches of saying beautiful and cozy look round now describe the primary object that caught your eye that pen to your desk for instance are you able to provide you with five or six distinct descriptions of it you could have 30 seconds for the assignment? Now was once it tough if you happen to felt like the phrases you need had been right on the tip of your tongue however did not come out.Here is what you can do pause this video for a couple of minutes and consult an internet thesaurus Write down all of the synonyms you need there you go as you return to this endeavor simply opt for one more object subsequent to you you will see that this venture will get easier every time you are trying it and your vocab will grow number 9 visualizing Time for some memory coaching it’s an most important part of any brain workout.

Are you able to speedily memorize the words you see to your reveal? Prime mannequin ocean solar Hat dog sandwich Hmm 5 seconds used to be not sufficient What if we attempt to connect these phrases logically a? Top mannequin was once having a snapshot shoot with the aid of the ocean the wind blew her son hat off but the canine saved it and used to be rewarded with a sandwich now play this image in your intellect can you remember the phrases in their customary order now? I guess that you could we’ve a couple of more word sets for you to apply as you go back to this video date spaghetti sad vegetarian surprise policeman tourist graffiti museum 5 Cruise octopus fireworks heels bandage university Hamlet wig disaster funny story number eight chunking here’s a different memory boosting exercise you could in no way do too many of these proper how just right are you at memorizing numbers?

Let’s do this one 5 one seven 4 nine eight seven two three one Wait keep it on Hmm.I feel it used to be fifty six some thing whatever eight. I stop if you feel that this one as well it’s now not a motive to panic your brain simply handle brief-time period recollections of no importance to you this way it lets go of them actual fast maintaining them for not than 30 seconds And it most effective maintains a maximum of 5 gadgets in there the 10 digit number you may have just noticeable was once vain to you, but what if it was once some knowledge at work You handiest need 4 now so it is important but no longer most important sufficient to maintain it for a long run Checking the same numbers you need for your file 1,000,000 occasions cannot get disturbing the excellent news is which you could educate your brief-time period memory effortlessly?

Let’s just split the number into sections.You could have acquired 5 seconds to memorize it 5 one seven four 9 eight seven two three one and Now enjoy this cute cat photo for one other 5 seconds to let the numbers sync yet, ah Time to assess the numbers are you able to don’t forget the entire ten digits now I suppose that you can are trying it along with your social protection or bank card quantity or the numbers out of your phone ebook keep chunking to raise your brief-term reminiscence quantity seven memory shortcuts there are some portions of know-how we might higher recollect for excellent major historic moments nations and capitals u.S..Presidents, can you identify the first sixteen of them? Washington definitely after which it was once Jefferson or Madison.

I can not let you know however i will be able to definitely inform you that Washington’s military jogged many miles and jog very tough to Philadelphia to seek out pretty British women is not sensible oh yes, it does here’s a list of the primary American presidents via the final name Washington Adams Jefferson, madison monroe, Quincy Adams, Jackson Van Buren Harrison Tyler Polk Taylor Fillmore Pierce Buchanan Lincoln so if you memorize this line remembering the presidents might be method less complicated which you could are attempting utilizing anomic contraptions those strains with a hidden which means to keep other know-how in intellect as well quantity six reaction recreation Now that you have informed your reminiscence it is time for a response activity you are going to see different shapes show up on the screen Your assignment is to clap at any time when you see a circle.

We’ll start with a slow handy sequence, after which go rapid and rapid ready, let’s go This one used to be handy, however how about we take it one level up let’s do it rapid? And now level three to top it you are going to see speedily moving portraits of unique colors You should best clap while you see blue circles acquired it go That was tough well observe makes best, and it is going to get less difficult as you maintain trying number five pocket reading have you ever ever tried well, I’ve tried being erotic however it’s not as much enjoyable Now no robux.

You’re about to do it it’s a set of workouts which are meant to stimulate distinctive mind areas in what would look like exclusive ways The time period neuro bik’s was made up by using dr. Katz a professor of Neurobiology at Duke college scientific He knows to set off all of your senses in one undertaking doing that is excellent in your brain Put some cash in your pocket Now with out watching within try to recognize. What coins. They are consider them their size Texture and edges can tell you numerous Now see if you happen to guessed it, right quantity four inventing conversations yet another neuro enormous endeavor which is also fun I promise you’ll see a short mute video your challenge is to improvise and invent some traces for its characters it’s going to be more fun.

Should you do it together with your friends, however even doing it by way of your self will stimulate your mind and creativeness the subsequent time you are trying it, which you can simply turn your tv on and set it on mute it will provide you with enough space to improvise number three making predictions try to foretell the end result of some thing if you want to be identified in the next 24 hours a sporting events game some occasion at work the rating of your favorite band in the tune chart it can be something

Then wait to discover the outcome what is the factor of it making a prediction is a fine manner of boosting your brainpower First it takes some creativeness to do it 2d it is going to preserve you intrigued and stimulate the reward system of the brain in line with neuroscientist Judy Willis MD if you happen to had been proper you could be completely satisfied for those who had been wrong you are going to make your conclusions and could learn whatever new number two riddles exclusive varieties of riddles are a great help if you want to preserve your mind sharp.Let’s provide it a go in the event you take three apples from a group of 5. How many apples will you will have? Mmm 5 three 2 The answer is 3 apples. You just took them yourself.

All proper, Let’s are trying it again that you may purchase eight eggs for 26 cents what number of can you purchase for a cent and 1 / 4 5 seconds to believe it over? The reply is eight eggs you still have 26 sets There are seven daughters in the family each of them has a brother. What number of kids are there in the loved ones? Seems like a colossal family of eight all sisters have just one brother okay adequate of that number one constructing focal point let’s finish our workout with some tremendous useful relaxation all of us in finding it hard to concentrate at work or school sometimes Or a nasty feeling when your ideas are entering into all of the wrong instructions boo thumbs up if which you could relate Let’s discontinue with this easy meditation all you have got to do is close your eyes and breathe out ten instances with out considering of anything that is an exceptional means of getting smarter.

You could say good it can be all about developing your capability to focus and concentrate Now provide it a go shut your eyes and slowly count to 10 And ten So was once it hard You ought to have had all of these ideas bubbling by means of your intellect as you repeat this activity you will notice how it will get less complicated and less difficult to cut all of the extras out just you and the respiration Now take into account to avoid wasting this video to your favorites to be able to come again to it simply if you happen to liked it tell us via utilising the thumbs up button if it will get 50,000 likes. We are going to share extra brain workout ideas Subscribe to our channel lifestyles is bitter on the brilliant side .

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