#but also now that her moodiness is over time for her to be. gross again.

[von-eldritch]

@fizzarolli​ said: △  do you think the way lucifer treats charlie is unfair

She has too many secrets anyway

5/10

It’s not the worst it could be, she supposes. As it is, expressing what faults she finds in Hell’s ruler has never really bothered her.

“Yes. I’ll say it with my whole chest: he’s a shit father. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Charlie deserves all kinds of nastiness in her life, but he’s her dad. He has no right to be the one giving it.”

“Maybe if he was a better dad, his daughter would be more tolerable.”

[castawaycat]

The Tales of a Little Tiger: Chapter 7- Wandering Tiger

I'm sorry that it has taken me so long to update this story. I plan on writing a Christmas chapter soon, but I'm not sure if I will be able to post it in time for Christmas. I hope everyone has a lovely holiday.

Wanda packed a backpack for you full of diapers, extra clothes, and breastmilk. Today your aunt Yelena and Kate were going to take you to the zoo. This would also be the first time since the daycare incident that you would be away from Wanda and Nat. 

“I think you’ve packed enough for y/n to spend the week with her aunts.” Natasha joked as she winked at Wanda who just rolled her eyes. 

“I want to make sure that they have everything they need to take care of y/n.” Wanda responded as she placed your backpack next to your stroller. She was nervous to let you out of her sight. 

Natasha wrapped her arms around her girlfriend, “she’s going to be in good hands. Besides, we get to have some time to ourselves.” She said as she placed a kiss on Wanda's soft lips. 

—-----

“Ugh gross… You can’t even wait until we’ve left to start your fun.” Yelena walked into the apartment shielding her eyes from Wanda and Nat kissing. She pretended that she was grossed out; but she found it cute that her sister was happy. 

Natasha laughed as she pulled away from Wanda who was blushing slightly. “I’m going to go get y/n. Wanda is going to go through everything that y/n might need.” 

You were dressed in your tiger onesie sitting on your play mat quietly stacking blocks. You jumped a little when your mama leaned down to pick you up. “Mama.” You babbled happily as you clung to her. 

“Hello my little tiger. Are you ready to go to the zoo with your aunties?” Natasha asked you as she carried you to the living room. 

You squealed in excitement and clapped your hands as you saw that your aunt Kate and Yelena were also wearing tiger onesies to match you. “Mama!” You looked at Nat with happiness as you pointed to your aunts. 

“I know, little one. Your aunties have dressed up as tigers to match you at the zoo. I want you to stay with your aunties at all times. Make sure to stay in your stroller or hold their hand. Do you understand me, little tiger?” Natasha asked you as she handed you over to her sister. 

You nodded your head in understanding. Right now your headspace was around two years old and you were able to walk and say a few words. You always understood what you were told; but talking came harder to you in little space. 

“Please take good care of her. She has a habit of wandering off when something interesting catches her eye, so please keep an eye on her. She is slowly eating solids again so make sure to offer her snacks throughout the day. I’ve also packed breastmilk for her if she refuses to eat or becomes fussy. If you need anything please don’t hesitate to call us.” Natasha said as she buckled you into your carseat in Kate's car. She was beginning to feel panicked about letting you go. 

“Relax Natasha. Y/n is in good hands. We will take care of her and she will have a great time with her aunties. Now go and have fun now that you have the apartment to yourself. You’ve been kind of moody and tense lately.” Yelena joked with her sister. 

Natasha laughed as she closed the car door and yelled out to her sister, “I have not been moody.” 

Wanda grabbed Natasha’s hand and pulled her towards the apartment. “You have been a little moody and tense.” 

—------------------

Yelena and Kate bought you a balloon in your favorite color and tied it to your stroller as they pushed your stroller through the entrance of the zoo. You were so excited to see all the animals, especially the tigers and big cat exhibits. 

It was the fall so it was the perfect temperature outside, you loved feeling the wind blow against your face. Kate made sure that she offered you snacks and water throughout the day, but so far you had refused everything given to you. You were much too excited to see everything to bother eating. 

You had started to feel fussy as you had been sitting in your stroller for what felt like hours and you wanted to get out and explore the zoo for yourself. You let out a fussy cry as you kicked your feet. 

“Malen'kiy (little one), what’s wrong?” Yelena asked as she stepped in front of the stroller and gave you her full attention. 

“Out.” You whined as you tried to unbuckle yourself. 

“Oh, you want out. Okay I’m going to get you out but you need to hold onto Kate’s hand. There are a lot of people and we don’t want you to get lost.” Yelena spoke firmly to you as she unbuckled you from the stroller. As she lifted you out, she noticed that your diaper was full and that you were due for a diaper change. 

Kate laughed at Yelena who was making a dreadful look at realizing that you needed to be changed. There wasn’t much that the blonde couldn’t handle, but diaper changes always got the best of her. “Here my love. I will change y/n and we will meet you at the bear exhibit.” She said as she took you in her arms much to your aunt Yelena’s relief. 

You babbled happily as your aunt Kate changed your diaper in the private little/caregiver bathroom. It was a family bathroom equipped with a changing table made specifically for littles. It also had a toilet and sink for caregivers to use. 

“Are you excited to see the bears? Are you having fun?” Kate asked you as she tickled your belly before zipping up your onesie. 

“Kitty!” You squealed as that was what you were most excited to see. You loved bears and the other animals; but you were getting restless. You wanted to see all the big kitties. 

You held Kate’s hand as she walked you out of the bathroom. “Kitty.” You said on repeat as you pointed at the sign that had a picture of a tiger and a lion on it. 

“We’re going to see the kitties later y/n, but right now we need to meet up with Yelena at the Bears.” Kate said as she led you the opposite direction away from the big tiger sign. 

Kate looked around her surroundings as she tried to figure out where the bear exhibit was. It had only been a second that she had let go of your hand. She reached into the diaper bag and pulled out the map of the zoo. By the time she had figured out what direction to go you had already wandered off. 

Frantically she looked everywhere trying to spot you in a crowd full of people, “Oh god. Yelena, Wanda and Natasha are all going to kill me!” Kate said as she called out your name and looked everywhere for you. How hard was it to find a little dressed as a tiger? 

—--------------

Wanda moaned loudly as Natasha kissed and nipped behind her ear. “Please.” She begged as her hips rocked back and forth. 

Natasha smirked as she kissed along Wanda’s neck all the way down to her collarbone. She left small marks along pale skin. She loved hearing her girlfriend beg for her touch. “What’s wrong baby?” 

Wanda’s eyes were dilated and looked wild as she was insanely turned on. It had been so long since she had orgasmed and she was growing needier by the second. “I want you.” A whimper left her lips as she felt Natasha’s lips capture her nipple. 

“How do you want me, baby?” Natasha asked as she slowly kissed and licked her way down Wanda’s body. She bit her lip and moaned when she saw just how wet she had made her girlfriend. She couldn’t wait to get a taste. 

“Nat, please just fuck me! I don’t care how.” Wanda’s back arched as she let out a deep cry of ecstasy as Natasha thrusted two fingers into her pussy that was already dripping. She hadn’t expected Natasha to give in so easily. 

“Fuck Wands, you’re so wet and tight baby.” Nat moaned as she leaned in and slowly tasted the sweet juices flowing between Wanda’s legs. She smirked as she used her other hand to hold the redhead in place. “Be a good girl or I’ll stop.” 

Wanda’s legs trembled as she did her best to keep her legs open. She could feel her orgasm approaching but under her pleasure she began to feel anxious. Her mind immediately went to you and she clamped her legs shut and pushed Nat away. 

“Wanda? What’s wrong? Did I do something wrong?” Natasha asked as she sat up on her knees. She was worried that she had hurt her girlfriend or triggered her. 

“I think something is wrong with y/n!” Wanda said as she sat up and started looking for her clothes. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. 

“Baby, I’m sure things are okay. Yelena and Kate would’ve called if something happened.” Natasha said as she tried to keep her girlfriend calm. Surely her sister would call if something happened. Now she was second guessing her sister. 

“Crap.” Natasha cursed as she looked down at her phone and saw that she had multiple missed calls from Kate and Yelena. “I’m gonna kill them.” She growled as she began to follow Wanda’s lead and get dressed. 

————

Yelena and Kate were running around the zoo freaking the fuck out as they still couldn’t find you. They had informed the zoo staff that you were missing and they had left several voice messages on your girlfriend’s phones. 

“My sister is going to kill me.” Yelena said as she looked down at her phone that was ringing in her hand. Taking a deep breath she answered her phone. 

“What happened? Have you found her?” Natasha’s voice trembled as she hoped to hear some good news. 

“We haven’t found her yet. Tasha, I’m sorry. We’ve let the staff know and the police have already been informed.” Yelena said as she held Kate's hand. She felt like she had let her sister down. 

“We’re on our way.” Natasha said as she tried to calm down. It took everything in her not to yell at her sister. Fighting wasn’t going to help them find you. 

————-

Loud screams of panic caused chills to spread down Yelena and Kate's spine as they looked towards the chaos. 

“Fuck!” Yelena cursed as she ran towards the big cat exhibit. She felt her heart sink as her eyes landed on you petting a tiger within the tiger exhibit. The blonde continued to curse under her breath as she fought through the crowd that had formed around the exhibit. 

You sat in the middle of all three tigers and ran your fingers through the largest tigers soft fur. You giggled in delight as you felt the rumble of his purrs and happy chirps. You covered your ears as you looked up and saw people pointing and yelling at you and your tiger friends. 

Your tiger friends stood up and let out a protective growl as they walked around you and gave displeased looks towards the zoo staff and the crowd of people surrounding their exhibit. To them you were one of their cubs and they would protect you at all cost. 

—------

Wanda did her best to keep calm the moment she saw you sitting inside the tiger exhibit. She could tell that the crowd of people was only making matters worse as the noise was causing you and the tigers stress. “I need you all to get the crowds out of here. Nat, I’m going to need you to get the staff to stand down. We need to keep y/n calm so that the tigers don’t view us as a threat.” Wanda said firmly as she instructed Natasha, Yelena, and Kate. 

As the crowds got smaller you had slowly calmed down enough to uncover your ears. You patted the grown next to you and smiled when your tiger friends relaxed and sat down next to you. You rubbed your eyes tiredly as you cuddled into their soft fur. You thought your ears were playing tricks on you when you heard our mommy’s voice say your name. 

Wanda spoke gently and calmly from the entrance gate that led into the exhibit. She didn’t want to spook you or the tigers that had fallen asleep next to you. “Y/n, it’s mommy. Can you crawl towards me?” 

You smiled when you found your mommy who was waving at you from where you had entered into the exhibit. You babbled happily as you crawled towards Wanda who was smiling at you the closer you got to the gate. As you got closer to your mommy you turned to wave goodbye to your tiger friends who were sleeping, you hoped that you would get to visit them again. 

“That’s it baby, come to mommy.” Wanda spoke softly as the zoologist unlocked the gate. Wanda let out a sigh of relief as she picked you up in her arms. She was overwhelmed with emotions at finally having you safely in her arms. 

You let out a tired cry as you rubbed your face into the crook of Wanda’s neck. You loved cuddling with your tiger friends, but there was nothing as good as being in your mama and mommy’s arms. “Mama.”

“Mama has you baby and mama is never ever letting go.”

[smallraindrops-blog]

Meet Me in The Sunflower fields

(Day 4 to 6)

(A sleep family series)

Summary: out of order snapshots of the hazy days of summer with cherry popsicles and the distant, happy laughter of family. Modern!au

Word count: 2k

warnings: no beta, hinted at family trauma, cursing, cheating ( not between Hypnos&Y/N) Alcohol, NSFWISH, Bad decisions.

Notes: omg i’m sorry y'all. Work has lost its fucking tits but i am here! I will return to fix any mistakes but i hope yall enjoy this enjoy this.

Please mind the warnings~~~~<3<3<3<3<3<3

Love yall! mawh. Xoxoxo

~

Vacation

The whole world felt like it was made of brilliant crystals. The shining waves of the ocean, the gleaming white sand were so beautiful that it was nearly blinding. 

The smell of coconuts and sunscreen was in the air as well as the sounds of laughter, noisy seagulls and the nearby town. 

It was paradise. 

Morpheus would rather be anywhere else. Actually, no. He would rather be back home, working with his theater group on the newest play. 

With a sour expression, Morpheus looked up his spot under the large umbrella, his play script in his hands. 

Phobetor was covered from head to toe in sand, with a determined gleam in his freaky yellow eyes as he added more sand to whatever it was building. He sat back, scanned his creations and dumped even more sand on top.

Morpheus’ scowl deepened, and he looked past his baby brother to the twins. 

The twins were playing in the waves, Icelos’ white curls frizzing up in the everblue waters, and was screaming as Phan tossed a bucket of seaweed at her. She immediately tackled him, using her height to shove him under the waves. 

They were all acting like little babies. 

With a deep sigh, Morpheus returned to his script, or tried to anyway. He knew he wasn’t being fair to his siblings but that only seemed to make his bad mood worse. 

It didn’t help that his parents were also acting like teenagers, only worse. They were acting like lovesick ones. 

Morpheus knew if he turned around to look behind him, he would probably see some disgusting sight like Papa whispering in Dad’s ear while Dad giggled like some dumb girl or them cuddled up or gods- kissing for far too long. 

Again.

His parents had seemed to have forgotten they were adults with children and they were being gross right now. 

Sighing, he made himself look back at the page he was trying to read. The words weren’t sticking no matter how many times he read it.

“Lunch time!” Dad singed as he appeared by Morpheus’ side. “Come on all of you, I am not chasing after you!”

“I'm good.” Morpheus grumbled, hunching his shoulders as he tried to keep his eyes on the paper. 

“Are you still studying, baby?” Dad looked over his shoulder as he looked at the script, the wind picking up his long curls.  

“Not a baby.” Morpheus shot back, narrowing his eyes at the page like it would help. “I need to learn this stuff.”

“You need a break.” Dad returned Morpheus’ tone with a sigh. Hypnos sat down next to Morpheus and Hypnos rested his head on his own knee as he got comfortable. 

Giving up, Morpheus copied his dad, not quite realizing he was doing so. The pages fluttered in the wind, the waves so loud it seemed to drown out the gulls along with the twins’ laughter. 

For a long moment, they sat side by side in silence. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Dad eyed him, digging his toes into the sand. Morpheus huffed, slapping a hand on the paper, annoyed at the noise. At himself.

“Is there anything to talk about?”  Morpheus looked at the sea. “I know I’m being moody.”

”You’re twelve.” Dad smiled like that alone was enough of a reason. Morpheus shook his head, his curls flopping everywhere. 

“It just… I worked really hard. I even made Phobetor sit for hours to watch me practice.”

“And you still haven’t paid me!” Phobetor yelled, arms deep in his creation. Morpheus was starting to get worried that his baby brother might become one with the sand at this point. 

“I told you that you have to wait until I get my first movie deal!” 

Morpheus ignored his dad’s laughing and Phobetor’s booing as he flopped down onto his back. He stared up at the striped umbrella.

“Dad, sorry for…” Morpheus gestured vaguely, unable to come up with the right words. 

Dad grabbed his hand, locking their fingers together and gave a squeeze. Morpheus wanted to say he was too old to hold his Dad’s hand but it felt nice. The sounds of the waves were no longer grating and Morpheus let himself breath.

He was on vacation and he just need-

Dad immediately jerked at Morpheus’ hand, “No- don’t you dare!” 

Morpheus frowned, lifting his head up in confusion only to scream when he saw the twins looming above with two large buckets overflowing with water and seaweed. Dad pulled Morpheus into his arms but it was too late.

Both of them immediately got soaked and covered in disgusting weed. There was a moment of panicked silence as the twins realized they also got their dad. 

Hypnos had gotten the worst of it, seaweed covering his face with his clothes soaked. He looked like a drowned creature. Dad slowly peeled away the plant from his face, a  dark scowl growing as he did so. 

Morpheus made a sound of disgust at the wet sound. 

“Oops.” Phan whispered. 

“Dad, we meant to get Morpheus!” Icelos said, unsuccessfully fighting back her laughter. “We’re sorry.”

Dad gave them an ice cold smile, pressing his finger together in a snapping position. “Oh, you will be.” 

The twins frowned in confusion then Hypnos snapped his fingers. Appearing out of nowhere, Papa wrapped his arms around the twins and lifted them both up easily. 

Their panicking screams made Morpheus laugh and he waved them goodbye as they were carried off to the ocean.

Dad chased after them, still removing seaweeds from his body. “I want them to sleep with the fishes!”

”No! No!” But their screams had turned to delight. Phobtor wrestled himself from the sand, falling down on his face once before rushing back up as he tried following them. “Wait, I wanna go too!” 

Morpheus knew he was grinning like an utter loon as he watched but couldn’t seem to stop it. When he saw the papers were ruined, he didn’t exactly feel that bad about it.

~~

Camera 

Achilles scowled, his fingers fumbling around the lens. “Damn bloody-“

“Do you need help?” Patroclus sounded far too amused, tossing more diving rings for the grandkids to hunt for. Achilles looked up and narrowed his eyes. 

Patroclus was lounging on his inflatable chair, sunglasses on and a beer by his elbow as he tossed out another one to the deep end of the pool. He flashed Achilles a roguish grin, far too handsome for his - or Achilles’- own good. He looked like a king with his little subjects bobbing around him, diving for their the goods their king tossed their way.

“No. I’m perfectly fine. Just trying to get the happiest moments of our lives immortalized. That’s all.” Achilles gestured with the camera.

Patroclus peered over his sunglasses at Achilles, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement and waved to the kids. “Hey, one of you push me closer to your ridiculous grandad.” 

Phan came over first, looking adorable in a pair froggy goggles and tried to push. His little arms moving as hard as he could. “You’re too heavy!” 

Achilles laughed at the false outrage on Patroclus’ expression. He watched for a moment longer as the other kids came along to help then he went back to the camera. 

He stopped listening to the back and forward between Patroclus and their little grandbabies.

He had turned it on, the little light blinking at him mockingly, he knew it was taking photos by the clicking sounds…

Achilles peered through the camera and he reailzed that he was an idoit. Rolling his eyes at himself, he took off the led cover. He grinned when he saw the scene before him in crisp detail. 

Then with lighting quick taps on the button, got the exact moment a surprised Patroclus was tipped over, holding his beer high up to save it as his sunglasses went flying as water went up around them

Their grandchildren’s expressions of mischief and horror just made Achilles grin even more. 

Many more wonderful photos were taken that summer day but Achilles made sure to get that one framed.

~~

Message in a bottle

(Pre-relationship/It’s complicated, early twenties)

When it happened, you weren’t exactly surprised nor was anyone else who wasn’t living under a rock.

It was painfully oblivious that the way Endymion stared at Selene and the way she looked back that something was going on. You had tried to mention it to Hypnos, who merely ignored you.

Not that it hurt your feelings or anything. Just because you and him made out a few times during high school didn’t mean you and him were friends. 

Or anything like that. Ever.

The Endymion and Hypnos’ breakup had been a long time coming. 

Only you didn’t expect Endymion to publicly break up with Hypnos. On his birthday. For fucks sake, he could had done it literally anywhere else or any other day. You tried not to think about how you remembered when it was Hypnos’ birthday.

As Dolly Parton began pleading to Jolene to not steal her man, her drawl lingering in your ears, you took another glance as you ran the towel down the bar counter. 

Hypnos was sitting alone, an empty cocktail glass in front of him and a few shot glasses. He had stumbled in with a damp tank top and dipping swim shorts and began ordering drinks like the world was ending.

He looked ready to cry. Again.

With an annoyed sigh at yourself, you went to him.

You didn’t utter a word as you began making him another drink, one with considerably less alcohol in it. Hypnos only blinked when you placed it in front of him.

”On the house.” You told him, tossing the rag onto your shoulder, scanning the area. The bar was mostly empty, most people had left, a few lingering over the last call drinks. 

Hypnos let out a rueful chuckle, curling his long, elegant fingers around the glass. He said nothing for a long moment, sipping on the sugary drink. 

You didn’t mind. It allowed you a moment to study him. Hypnos had grown up while you were gone. He had gone from an awkward looking - but adorable- teen to something lovely, otherworldly. Heavy lidded golden eyes and elegant, slender limbs with flowing curls and a gorgeous, killer smile.

Although he hadn’t directed that smile at you for a long time. Endymion was a goddamn idiot far as you were concerned.

“I should have believed you.” Hypnos whispered, stirring the straw around the glass, the ice clinking together. 

“Hypnos-“

“I don’t know if it makes you feel better but I didn’t believe my brothers. Or my sisters. Or Meg. Or Dusa. Zagreus. Hell, now that I am thinking about it I am pretty sure even my mother tried to say something. So many people tried to warn me and it took me finding them in our bed before I acknowledged it. During the fucking pool party. They were fucking during my birthday get-together.” 

You nodded, not saying anything, recognizing that he just needed to speak. 

“Did you know I pleaded for him to just be honest with me? Even all that-'' Hypnos' voice cracked and he took another deep sip, almost to the bottom of the glass.

“I can help burn the mattress.” You offered. 

Hypnos didn’t laugh like you thought he would. He did meet your eyes and you were surprised that he didn’t look as drunk as you thought he would be. 

“Endymion hated you.” Hypnos told you, watching your expression. You lift an eyebrow but you weren’t that surprised. You had caught him glaring at you more than once. 

“Ever since I told him we hooked up in high school.” Hypnos added, licking his lips nervously. Your eyes followed the flash of pink flesh. 

At least you know why now. You resisted the urge to smirk at new knowledge. 

You remembered how soft Hypnos’ mouth felt under yours, the hungry way he kissed back, the soft whimpers he made when you kissed his neck, shivering under you. You wondered if he still responded so sweetly, so earnestly or if experience had trained him out of it. 

Fuck. 

This was a bad idea. For so many reasons. 

You swallowed. You were an adult, not some dumb kid who had a hardon for a guy who hated your guts ever since that damn lemonade stand rivalry. Hypnos shifted, tucking a curl behind his ear, his eyes darting away. 

He looked beautiful. Lonely.

“I get off in twenty minutes.” You told him. 

[swiftscion]

[ Mulled wine ] - Warm red wine spiced to perfection, ideal for staving off winter’s chill.

“Now this is something I can enjoy.”

Kliff approached the drinks table to see that the wine was brought out. He was rather fond of the more refined foods—aged cheese, caviar, and the like. Those, however, were rather expensive and difficult to come by. For the young mage, nothing topped a nice glass of bitter red wine.

And this was also a good chance to get a new brooch, of course.

He eyed the nearby people as he picked up and poured himself a glass. Among them one stood out more than the others—perhaps due to the fact that, from behind, she looked far less imposing than the other figures about. Or maybe it was the fact that she seemed a little less enthusiastic about the actual activities. Even better, she also had a brooch that Kliff lacked. He had found his next goal; the owner of the String of Pearls.

A quick approach, weaving through the crowd. Footsteps light so as not to spill the wine. Arrival. A glance from the lady. Eye contact. Now words. “Excuse me, but would you be interested in exchanging brooches?” A question in response. “Do I have anything? Well, I have my White Feather.” Disappointment. “...not enough? Oh, uh…” Disappearance. No brooch. Not an option.

Perhaps it would be wise to bring more than just my own brooch … perhaps she’ll enjoy a glass?

He poured out another, bubbles rising—bursting—as the dark red liquid clashed with the edges of its new host. Now with two glasses in hand, he made his way to the hero, who’s status he was unaware of.

“Hey,” he opened rather casually, “Not very fond of social gatherings? I’m not, at least.”

Just get it over with, Kliff. Pearls and wine in one go.

“I came to ask for an exchange of brooches, but … I also brought a glass of wine—if you’re interested.”

For Larcei, the game of brooches was all a bit beneath her. A long-time student, she had already received her fair share of prizes from the Ethereal Ball. Most of them weren’t any good. Maybe this year would offer her a half-decent sword, but the natural counter-thought was that she already had several half-decent swords–and plenty of excellent ones. Trumping them all, however, was the stellar Brave Sword passed to her by her mother. Nothing this stupid stamp goal could offer her would take its place.

But seeing Kliff put a smile on her face. It must’ve looked way different to him, from her moody resting expression. “Yeah, I can tell. You didn’t even drop me your name, or anything…” Not that she could fault the guy. She was just at a dessert table, away from everyone else. Helping oneself to a baker’s dozen candied fruits without anyone to share them with gave off sad. She probably didn’t seem the type to care who or what he was.

“Just desperate for my pearls. I’ll give it to you, but next time?” The wine was snatched from between his fingers, and promptly hit against his glass, “Feel free to come up ‘n ask. This stuff’s meant to be given out, y’know.” 

In its place, she slipped him her pearl string. It looked just as dazzling and sterile as the hundreds of others that glittered in the torchlight. Congratulations to Kliff, who became one of the many others donning a technicolor sheen. “I’m big on repaying debts, so for this,” she took a sip of her drink to draw attention to it. It was so gross she thought to retch, but then again, that was sort of the point with alcohol, “you can come to me for a favor. Ask for Larcei, Blue Lions House.” 

She was quite convinced she hadn’t seen that one before, and if she was lucky, maybe they’d be classmates. But, probably not. Even if he was new, she believed she’d have caught wind of his existence at least once in class. Probably just an Eagle or something. 

In any case, she smirked to herself as she took her second swig of the drink. She was quite content to help some poor soul on his quest for a ballroom prize, and prayed they could offer him something of value. 

[faustocosgrove]

and on the nineth day of reviewmas I, Fausto, give to thee:

9 instances this show reminded me of a better show

an 80s cult movie

7 lgbt main characters in an incredibly queer manga like holy shit

6 ye olde government agents

5/5 stars best movie of the decade easily. might be the best movie of all time

4 scantily clad teenaged girls (fbi open up! meme)

the 3rd time i read the same book about lawns maybe?

2 high school animes

and a ninja book

…from a guy who still thinks about the naruto series in the year 2024

In today’s episode of Fausto! Reviews! Things! we have a ye olde anime featuring an older than he looks long silver haired yellow slit eyed man with a magic sword who is half demon and half human and his two love interests, the older mature one and the younger one who is super jealous of the older mature one. There’s also a villain whose face is covered in bandages who has a co dependent relationship with the only human who takes care of them, who is a pretty girl who dies. Not sure which anime I’m talking about? I’ll give you a hint: It predates the Inuyasha manga by 3 years.

That’s right! I’m talking about Nightwalker! the first anime based off an eroge! and I in no way shape or form meant that little joke to imply that Inuyasha was ripping off this piece of trash, I just couldn’t fucking watch the moody silver haired guy brood about being half demon without thinking of Inuyasha.

This show is so bad, but it’s bad in like a fascinating way? Like the opening song is objectively bad and not fun to listen to but i watch it every time because the 90s animation is just so 90s that i can’t look away. The pacing is out of control bad because it was only supposed to be a 2-3 episode OVA but then people liked it and they made a bunch of money and churned out more episodes. So you get the big bad fight first then it’s just a lot of monster of the week shit. The Inuyasha clone is arguably bisexual, but he might just be homosexual because it’s shown that he had a relationship with a guy but now he makes all kinds of dirty jokes about women and presumably since this was a eroge he’s the guy doing the fucking (the wiki doesn’t say) but he was also clearly the bottom for his ex boyfriend so i mean… if he was also a capture target in the original game i wouldn’t be that surprised. kinda glad he doesn’t get with any of the girls in the anime, since of the three one is a teenager and another is a pixie. (i wrote this section before i finished the show RIP)

also episode 8 is like, literally the worst thing i’ve ever seen. so there’s a grandpa and a mom and 2 kids. the mom and 2 kids kill grandpa, then leave his fresh corpse in the car while they all go get dinner. and like that…. that’s it. that’s the worst thing i’ve ever seen. and like, i know what’s going on mechanically in the story that requires this to happen to move the plot along. but jesus fucking christ. they’re all so nonchalant about it too. it’s not even like gross or horrifying it’s just so over the top. i stopped the episode in the leaving the corpse in the parking lot of the restaurant to go get dinner scene and it took me weeks to come back to the series.

and then the next episode is like a prequel showing how the inuyasha clone and the pixie met and they go on a monster of the week adventure. except at the very last second it’s revealed that this is also the origin story of the cop lady. and like, i had taken so much of a break to get through episode 8 that i had forgotten what one of the main characters looks like and what her name was. so what a normal viewer would have known was that it’s an origin story the whole way through but to me it was a big reveal.

and then this show did it to me again in episode 10, where half the episode is a flashback but it’s not super clear that’s what’s going on. so half the time the gang is in tokyo, then next scene inuyasha clone has fucked off to the woods fighting another monster but his ex boyfriend who was killed in episode 3 is there? so i thought yeesh thought we killed this fucker already. then it’s more clear that that all was a flash back and it’s like whew okay so he is dead. then the teenager is all huffy about the inuyasha clone having had an ex girlfriend (he didn’t, this is just a misunderstanding) as if killing his ex boyfriend wasn’t what y’all did in episode 3. so she’s only jealous of girlfriends and not boy friends? okay. weird flex but okay. this fucking show GOD.

the worst part is, they couldn’t have just called the monsters “demons” or “yokai”. no. they’re called night breeds. but 90% of the time it’s shortened to “breeds” or “a breed” or mainly inuyasha clone groans “it’s a breed” as if his day is runied by finding the thing that the japanese government is paying him to kill. everytime inuyahsa clone says breed take a shot. would be a fun drinking game if the show wasn’t so bad that it were possible to tolerate watching more than only one episode at a time.

the last episode is so bad. i was screaming “that’s what you’re fucking doing?” and shit like that. but like, at the writers. it was a rushed ending with too much shit crammed into it, and i’m so disgusted by the ending but i’m not going to spoil it because if you actual watch this shit show and make it through episode 8 you’ll be battle hardened enough to handle episode 12. barely, maybe, i think.

also there’s teenager titties in like, episode 3. what’s with the ye olde animes and teenager titties? i mean i get this is based off an eroge and skipping the tits would have been weirder but like, the pixie is naked 24/7. like, why couldn’t we get to see the cop lady’s tits instead? why japan, why is it always the teenagers? can’t we milf fuckers get some fan service once in a while???

[waitimcomingtoo]

From Friends To This

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: Tom gives you an intimate compliment that makes you question just how platonic your friendship is

Masterlist

Unable to sleep and growing bored with the episode of Grey’s Anatomy he was watching, Tom reached up and knocked the secret rhythm to on his wall. He tilted his chin up towards the wall, waiting for your response. Finally, you finished the knock, letting Tom know you were still awake. Ever since you moved in, you and Tom communicated at through knocking on the wall since your rooms were next to each other. It was reserved for late night messages, usually when one of you wanted a snack but didn’t want to go to the kitchen alone. Tonight, it was a matter of curiously.

“did I wake you?” Tom pulled out his phone to text you, not wanting to keep you up if you had been asleep.

“you know I’m always awake. what’s on your mind?” You texted back in a few short seconds, making Tom smile.

“I’m a few seasons into Grey’s Anatomy and I need to know who I can’t get attached to in case they die.”

“when I tell you you cannot get attached to ANYONE I mean it.” You answered. Toms thumbed danced over the keyboard, unsure of what to say next. He didn’t exactly have anything to talk about, he just wanted to talk to you. His eyes drifted back to his screen and he paid a little more attention, watching as Owen stood behind Christina and smiled for a minute before saying, “You should wear your hair up more. It shows off the back of your neck. I like the back of your neck.”

“Gross.” Tom mumbled as he shifted his eyes back to his phone. That was how he chose to flirt with the girl he liked? Tom continued texting you when what was intended to be background noise caught his eye. He thought Christina would find that comment as weird as he did, but she didn’t. She did the opposite.

She liked it.

Tom stared at his screen with furrowed eyebrows as Christina timidly brushed the back of her neck with her fingertips with a smile, making Tom wonder if that line actually worked on girls. His eyes shifted back to his phone, thumbs dancing over the keyboard as he thought of what to type. Finally, he decided to let Owen do the talking for him.

“you should wear your hair up more” He wrote, heart pounding in his ears as he waited for the bubble to come up.

“why 😳” Your text appeared on his screen and he blew out a nervous breath. No going back now if he was already halfway there.

“it shows off the back of your neck”

“yes and?” You wrote.

Tom twiddled his thumbs anxiously as he typed out the next part.

“I like the back of your neck.”

A bubble appeared almost immediately, then disappeared. Tom almost threw his phone across the room from anxiety as he waited for your response. The clock went up a minute before your answer came.

“aw, really?” came first.

Then, “what about the skin between my fingers?”

Followed by, “or my weenis?”

And then, “do you like the back of my knees too?”

Tom laughed to himself, his chest rising and falling repeatedly at your words.

“fine. I’ll just never compliment you again 😔” Tom texted you back. His plan didn’t end up with you admitted your long held love for him, but it didn’t completely backfire either. He was at a happy medium, and he was okay with that.

“ok, dork.” You sent. “what are you, a vampire? trying to get me to show off my neck I see 👀”

“you caught me. that’s why I’m so pale and moody. I’m tryna bite that neck”. Tom wrote you back. At least you weren’t making him feel bad for what he said, even if it fell a little flat.

“smh. you ain’t slick holland” You texted, making Tom chuckle again. You hadn’t reacted the way Christina had, but you also hadn’t reacted the way Tom had.

In Toms mind, that was a good thing.

Little did he know, that text would forever change the nature of your relation.

Monday

The conversation completely departed from Tom’s mind by the next morning as he put his dishes away in the sink and loaded them in the dishwasher. He rinsed his plate right as you walked by, your perfume wafting his way as you passed.

“Good morning.” You said over your shoulder as you opened the cabinet next to the sink. You began to move the various mugs out of your way until you found the one you were looking for, shaking your head a little back and forth to let your hair move. Tom snuck a glance at you and cocked a smile when he saw what you had done.

You had worn your hair in a ponytail.

“Great morning, actually.” Tom remarked, tilting his head to look at you as he shut the faucet off. “Nice hair.”

You gave him a poised look before ostentatiously shaking your head, letting your ponytail swish.

“Thanks.” You shrugged casually as you poured some hot water in your mug, a coy smile perched on your face.

“You’re welcome.” Tom told you as he leaned on the counter and picked up his own blue mug.

“No, Tom.” You said, looking in the mirror on the wall and adjusting your ponytail before looking at Tom and shooting him a wink. “You’re welcome.”

And then you walked away, your ponytail hitting him when you did.

Tom stared at you as you walked away with a dropped jaw, folding his arms as he thought about what he just witnessed.

“Ponytail.” He mumbled to himself. “She wore a ponytail.”

~

Later that day, Tom sat at the kitchen table, drumming his fingers against his cheek as he edited his and Harry’s script when he felt your hair hitting his face. He looked up from his computer as you sat down beside him, a coy smile on your face.

“Oh, Sorry. Did I hit you with my ponytail?” You asked before hitting him with it again. “Sorry.”

And again.

“Sorry. So sorry.” You stifled a laugh as you opened your own laptop and began to type.

“So this is what I get for trying to be nice.” Tom said unenthusiastically. He couldn’t help his eyes from drifting to your ponytail as you typed, smiling a little at the way it bounced.

“No.” You told him. “This is what you get for telling me you like the back of my neck.”

“Is it that weird of a thing to say?” He asked, a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance ringing in his voice. You looked at him Tm out of the corner of your yes, smirking a little at he got riled up.

“Who said it was weird?” You shrugged as you flicked your hair in his face again. “Sorry.”

“I’m trying to work and you’re being incredibly distracting.” Tom grumbled as he tried to focus on his work. However, it was proving to be incredibly difficult since you decided to sit oh so close to him.

“Am I?” You played dumb and twirled your hair around your finger. “What’s distracting you?”

Tom stared at you for a moment, caught up in the way your hair twirled around your finger. He felt an ache in his chest as he fought the urge to replace your hands with his and run your fingers through your hair. He locked eyes with you and shook his head, laughing a little to himself as you teased him.

“You know.” He insisted, eyes going back to your hair.

“Could it be…”, you sassily flipped your ponytail and held you hand over your heart, “the back of my neck?”

You let out an ostentatious gasp as if you just revealed the killer in a murder mystery before letting out a laugh.

“Can you just forget I said that?” Tom whined as you snickered at your own joke. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“You told me you liked the back of my neck, Tommy.” You reminded him. “How can that not mean anything?”

“It just doesn’t. It’s just something I said. No harm done.” Tom insisted, hoping you’d let him dismiss it.

“If there’s no harm done in what you said, then there’s no harm in my ponytail.” You shrugged, letting your ponytail sway as you moved. Tom looked at you for a long time and you stared right back, raising your eyebrows to challenge him.

“It was just a compliment.” Tom told you.

“And it’s just a ponytail.” You shot back. Tom squinted his eyes at you but you didn’t budge. Neither of you were gonna break, which meant Tom was getting zero work done, not that he minded.

“Tell me why you wore one.” He said, shitting his laptop to give you his full attention.

“Tell me why you like the back of my neck.” You answered, turned in your chair to face him. You puffed your chest out a little, trying to look tough as you set your focus on him.

“It was just a compliment.” He repeated, narrowing his eyes at you. You cracked a smile before leaning closer, close enough that your breath fanned his face.

“And it’s just a ponytail.” You said breathily. “Bye now.”

You waved flirtatiously at Tom as you sprung out of your seat, letting your ponytail flick him one last time before you left the room. He turned in his seat to watch you as he left, heart still skipping beats from how close you’d been.

“That damn ponytail.” Tom grumbled.

Tuesday

Tom thought the great back of the neck debate would end after one day, but when he watched you waltz into the kitchen the next morning with your hair pulled into a bun, he knew he was dead wrong. You weren’t the one to drop things, and he wasn’t the one to make the first move. As you took your place next to him at the kitchen counter, he knew this debate wasn’t going to end anytime soon.

“I like your hair today.” Tom said slowly as he stirred sugar into his tea. He handed you the sugar, knowing you liked your tea just as sweet as him, and you wordlessly accepted it.

“Thanks. It’s just so hot out, I wanted my hair off my face.” You said causally before looking at him out of the corner of your eye. “And neck.”

“It’s raining.” Tom smirked as he took a sip from his blue mug.

“Is it?” You asked, turning all the way around to look out the window and giving Tom a long look at the back of your neck. You turned back around, rubbing your hand on your shoulder to draw even more attention to that God forsaken part of your body. Tom knew exactly what you were doing, and evidently, so did you.

You looked back at him and shrugged before stirring sugar into your tea. “I guess it is.”

You took a step closer to Tom, taking a long sip of your tea as you held eye contact with Tom.

“I really like the bun, love.” Tom spoke softly in his morning voice. “Looks great.”

“You like it?” You raised your eyebrows seductively. “Tell me Tom, why do you like it?”

“I think we’ve been over this, darling.” He dished it right back, not letting you get the upper hand.

“I’m afraid I don’t remember.” You tilted your head. “Do you think you can back track for a second and remind me?”

Your chests were practically touching now, morning tea long forgotten.

“I like it when you wear your hair up.” Tom said without ever breaking eye contact. You stared back at him firmly until just for a moment, you quivered. You looked away quickly and insecurely touched your hair, letting your fingers slid to rest on the back of your neck.

“I have to go.” You picked up your mug and gave him a tight smile. “See you later.”

Tom furrowed his eyebrows once you left, feeling even more confused than the day before. If he didn’t know any better, you had gotten flustered from your little encounter. In the years Tom had known you and the months you’ve lived together, he was usually the one left with flushed cheeks and a racing heart after a shared moment went from platonic to flirtatious too quickly. He’d never seen something he did have such an effect on you. The memory of your flushed cheeks and wide eyes gave Tom the confidence to navigate the new territory you had entered. Something about his text from that night sparked something between the two of you, a battle that Tom was determined to win.

Wednesday

You had gone out to breakfast with old friends, so Tom hadn’t seen you all morning. It wasn’t until 2 pm that he found you at the kitchen table, leaning on your hand as your eyes lazily scanned your computer. He smirked and laughed to himself upon seeing that you had done it once again.

“Pigtails.” Tom said, alerting you to his presence. You didn’t look up from your computer but a cheeky smile tugged at your lips.

“Sorry, what was that?” You pretended not to hear him as you twirled a strand of hair from your pigtail around your fingers.

“I haven’t seen you in pigtails since Harrison tugged on them so hard you cried in Year 3.” Tom noted as he leaned on the table across from you.

“Well, this is my first step in getting over that tragic day.” You said as you looked at him through your eyelashes, letting it linger before looking back at your computer. Tom gripped the table in frustration, shaking the table a little but you still didn’t look up. Something about the combination of your hairstyle and you refusing to look at Tom was driving him up a wall. He walked around the table, stopping when he was stood behind your chair. He rested his hands on your shoulders, making your body freeze as whatever was on your computer screen completely left your mind.

“I see.” Tom said lowly as his rough hands began to knead your shoulders, paying extra attention to your neck. He cracked a smile when he heard you suck in a breath, swimming in glory at the effect he had on you. Always wanted to push his luck, Tom let his thumb slowly drag down the back of your, neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

“Beautiful.” He murmured, and a chill went down your spine.

“Hey Y/n. Ding dong!” Harrison came out of seemingly nowhere and grabbed onto your pigtail, yanking it twice like it was a bell. Tom jumped back and put his hands in his back pockets, feeling his heart about to beat out of his chest. You swatted Harrison’s hands away and stood up, shooting a glance at Tom before turning back to Harrison.

“Very funny. You know who rings bells like that? The hunchback of notre dame.” You shoved Harrison playfully before sneaking another glance at Tom. The tension that had built between you could be cut with a knife, and today that knife was named Harrison.

“Stop flirting with me, Y/n.” Harrison joked as he gave your hair one last tug. You made a face at him before he let the room, his laugh echoing. Your eyes slowly made their way back to Tom, a now awkward silence filling the room.

“I’m gonna…” You pointed to your hair and began to take out your pigtails, needing an excuse not to look at Tom.

“Yeah, good idea.” Tom walked to you and immediately got to work to take down the other pigtail. He was gentle, careful not to tug at your baby hairs as he took the hair tie out. You winced a little as a hair got caught but didn’t make a sound.

“Sorry.” Tom said quietly as held your hair tie out to you. You looked at him as your hand closed around it, blinking a few times as you collected yourself.

“It’s okay.” Your tone was even softer as the tension from before reclaimed its place between you.

“Why do you keep wearing your hair up?” He asked, fingering a strand of your hair as he kept his eyes down.

“Why did you tell me you like the back of my neck?” You asked back.

“I don’t know.” Tom answered, leaning in a little closer.

“Then I don’t know either.” You looked him right in the eyes before turning sharply and leaving, your hair hitting him as you went.

Thursday

“Beautiful day, isn’t it? Gosh, it’s a wonderful day. Why are you all sitting inside? We should go out and enjoy the fresh morning air. Come on guys, let’s get this joint jumping.” You entered the room where the rest of the boys were with a suspiciously chipper attitude. The boys exchanged looks as you stood in the center with a huge smile.

“Did you put crack in your tea instead of sugar this morning?” Harry asked you.

“Again?” Tuwaine added.

It was then that Tom glanced up from his phone only to see you staring right at him with yet another updo.

“Good morning Tom.” You nodded at him.

“Good morning to you too, Princess Leia.” Tom smiled at your hair today, two buns below each ear.

“Just trying something new.” You shrugged and sat down next to Harrison. Tom furrowed his eyebrows, well aware of the empty spot on the sofa next to him where you usually sat. He knew this was all apart of the little dance the two of you had been doing, but it bothered him nonetheless. His eyes burned holes in your like a lit cigarette on paper from across the room as you rubbed the back of your neck.

“Hey, Haz.” You said, purposefully loud enough for Tom to hear. He tried to go back to what he was looking at on his phone, but found it impossible to concentrate when you were practically on top of Harrison.

“Hey.” He greeted, having no clue what he was now apart of. “I like the buns. You look like you’re gonna churn some butter.”

You looked at Tom smugly when his best friend complimented you before returning your attention to Harrison. You began to twirl the ends of Harrison’s grown out curls between your fingers, making Toms chest tighten.

“That’s so funny, Haz.” You laughed loudly, too loud to be real. “You’re just so-“

“Y/n, can we talk in the other room for a second?” Tom snapped, practically springing out of his seat.

“Okay.” You looked at him strangely and got out of your seat. As soon as you were standing, Tom grabbed your hand and pulled you into the hallway.

“Your hair is up.” He pointed a finger at you as he whispered sharply.

“I’m well aware.” You scoffed and folded your arms.

“Why do you keep wearing it up?” He asked, losing his mind now. His blood was on fire now after nearly a week of cat and mouse.

“Why do you care?” You answered his question with a question, only making him more frustrated. Tom opened his mouth to speak but found himself with nothing to say. He ran his fingers through his hair, giving it a stressful tug as he fell speechless.

“That’s what I thought.” You laughed, almost sadly. “When you’re ready to talk, I’ll be ready to listen.”

“Y/n.” Tom began but you were already walking away.

“I gotta go.” You mumbled, barely audible as you turned the corner.

Friday

Braids.

You had two Dutch braids, parted down the middle to give Tom a perfect view of the back of your neck.

You didn’t know this, but Tom loved braids.

Like, really loved braids.

He stared at you for a moment, not sure what your reaction would be to him today. After the weird talk you had yesterday, he thought for sure you’d stop with the hairstyles. You had your back to him and of you knew he had entered the room, you didn’t show it. Tom passed you to get a mug from the cabinet. When you didn’t speak, he didn’t either. He slowly poured hot water into the mug and unwrapped a tea bag, wincing at how loud it sounded with all the awkward silence in the room.

“Good morning.” Your voice cut the silence like a pair of scissors, making Tom turn and look at you.

“Good morning.” He said softly, surprised you were the first one to speak. He timidly held his cup of tea, clutching like a child holding a blanket as he looked at you. You weren’t looking up, but it wasn’t like the day before. You weren’t teasing him this time.

You were upset with him.

The searing tension that had been following the two of you all week had been replaced with an ice that chilled the room.

“It’s gonna rain later.” Your voice was delicate and low as you kept your eyes on the newspaper. Tom knew you. You never read the newspaper.

You just didn’t want to look at him.

“Yeah. I heard.” Tom nodded slowly, aching to reach out and apologize to you. He wanted to tell you he was sorry, he just didn’t know what he was sorry for.

“We should probably put a cover over the chicken coop.” You said as you turned the page, eyes never coming his way.

“Yeah. That’s a good idea.”

The silence crept back in and Tom felt a twinge or pain in his heart. He needed you to look at him so he knew you were okay.

“I like your hair today.” Tom spoke again, his voice weak from not trusting it enough to speak at full volume.

“Thanks.” You said sharply, getting out of your seat and taking the newspaper with you.

“Y/n-“ Tom began, taking a step towards you.

“I’m gonna go feed the chickens.” You stated, leaving out the backdoor and not looking back.

~

A few hours later, you appeared in Toms doorway wearing one of his hoodies. It was too big on you, covering your body past the little black shorts you had on. You were holding a jar of pickles in your hands and had a sheepish look on your face.

“I can’t open this.” You said weakly as you held up the jar. Tom looked up at you from his desk with a small smile. He knew this was your way of apologizing and he doubted you knew what you were sorry for either.

“Come here.” Tom held his arm out and you walked towards him. He took the jar from you and opened it with ease while holding eye contact with you. After you refused to look at him that morning, he needed this.

“Thank you.” You smiled softly at him as you took the jar and set it on his desk.

“You’re welcome, darling.” Tom nodded, setting the lid down beside the jar. Your face contorted into a pained expression and you looked down, tugging at the strings of his hoodie to distract yourself.

“I’m sorry about yesterday. And this morning.” You spoke. “I don’t even know why I’m mad at you. I had no right to be.”

“That’s okay.” Tom told you. “I’m just glad you’re talking to me now.”

“I’m gonna go eat these now.” You took the jar of pickles and the lid and gave him an awkward smile.

“You don’t have to leave.” Tom said quickly when you were halfway out the door. You turned around and his face flushed, feeling embarrassed for sounding so desperate. “I just, um, I mean you could stay if you like.”

“Okay.” You nodded and took a seat on his bed, setting the jar down on his nightstand.

Tom spun around in his chair and rested his elbows on his knees to face you.

“You’re wearing my hoodie.” He noted, hoping that was a good sign that you were not longer mad at him.

“I was cold.” You shrugged and tugged at one of your braids. You began to play with the hair that came out of your hair tie as you looked around Tom’s room. You were avoiding eye contact once again and Tom was growing frustrated. If he had never given you that compliment, none of this would be happening. He worried he had permanently changed the nature of your relationship all because of some stupid statement.

“You’re being weird.” Tom said, speaking before thinking it through. You were both avoiding the conversation but he didn’t want to do it anymore. If he didn’t fix it now, he feared he never could.

“No I’m not.” You scoffed and took out your hair tie, undoing and redoing the bottom of your braid.

“Yes, you are.” Tom insisted, getting out of his chair to gain leverage.

“No, I’m not.” You stood up as well and looked at him sternly.

“Yes you are!” Tom snapped. “You keep touching your hair. You only do that when something’s on your mind.”

“Nope. No thoughts. Head empty.” You tapped the side of your head and laughed nervously.

“Fine. Then I’ll drop it.” Tom held up his hands in defense.

“Good.” You sighed in relief, taking your hand away from your braid and tucking them into the pocket of the hoodie. Tom looked you up and down, taking his bottom lip between his teeth as he stared at your braids.

“You wore your hair up every day this week.” He blurted, making you let out a groan.

“Tom.” You whined. “You said you were dropping it.”

“I will drop it.” He promised. “Just as soon as you tell me why.”

“I don’t know why.” You raised your voice, frustrated with both him and yourself.

“I’m sure you can think of something.” Tom snapped back, not being able to take his eyes off those damn braids.

“Does it really matter?” You whined, rubbing the back of your neck as you looked out his window.

“Yes! It does matter. To me, it matters.”

“Why?” You were both yelling now, not even aware of what was making you angry.

“It just does.” Tom sighed, calming down a little. “It just does.”

“Well I don’t have an answer for you.” You shrugged helplessly. “I can’t help you.”

“Does you wearing your hair up have anything to do with me telling you I like the back of your neck?” Tom asked slowly, taking a sudden interest in the floor as he asked the question that had been weighing on his mind all week.

“Oh my God.” You covered your face with your hands and dragged them down.

“What?”

“Stop saying that!” You pointed an angry finger at him. “Stop telling me you like the back of my neck!”

“Why? It’s a great neck.” Tom defended himself and his compliment, unintentionally making the situation worse. Your eyes widened as you balled your hands into fists and looked at the ceiling.

“UGH.” You gripping the sides of your head and spun in a frustrated circle.

“What is your problem?” Tom asked in exasperation as he watched your freak out.

“You! You’re my problem.” You yelled. “I can’t get you or your stupid compliment out of my head.”

“So that’s what this is about? You’re being weird because I complimented you?” Tom asked, a little hurt but even more confused.

“It’s not that you complimented me, Tom.” You shook your head in defeat. “It’s that you gave me that compliment.”

“I don’t get it. I don’t get what the big deal is.” Tom sighed in frustration. He was at the end of his rope trying to figure out what he did wrong.

“There is no deal. Just drop it, okay? Can we please drop it?” You took his hands in yours as you begged him. Tom could see the desperation in his eyes and as much as he wanted to get to the bottom of why his comment set you off, he cared about your feelings more than his own.

“Fine.” Tom agreed, not wanting to push you if you didn’t want to be pushed. You gave him a appreciative smile, still holding his hands in yours. After squeezing his hands to show you were grateful to him for dropping the subject, you went to leave the room. In the few short paces to the door, you heard Tom sigh. You stopped in his doorway, resting your hand on the doorframe. Tom looked at you longingly as you stood there, eyes landing on the back of your neck. It occurred to you what he was doing, making a compromise for your sake. He wasn’t satiated with your answer but was willing to accept it to make you happy, and somehow, that made everything worse.

“I didn’t know how to react.” The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could consider the repercussions of this particular conversation. The very conversation you and Tom had carefully choreography your relationship to dance around.

The conversation where you admitted that you both wanted to be more than what you were.

“What?” Tom asked, not understanding your statement. You craned your neck slightly, looking at him over your shoulder as you sighed.

“I didn’t know how to react to your compliment.” You repeated. “That’s why I’ve been weird. And that’s why I’ve been wearing my hair up. I didn’t know how to react.”

Your eyes locked with Tom as you stood on opposite sides of the room, feeling every inch of the distance between you.

“Oh.” Tom spoke softly, eyes dropping to the floor.

“You can’t just tell me you like the back of my neck. You can’t.” You shook your head and shut your eyes, unable to look at him in your vulnerable state.

“Why?” Tom asked desperately, wishing you could just be honest with him, even if he wasn’t being entirely honest with you.

“I’m sorry.” You sighed and turned away again. “I can’t do this.”

“What’s wrong?” Tom pleaded. “We have not been able to act normal around each other ever since I sent you that stupid text. Why did it mess everything up? I can’t compliment my friend?”

“Not compliments like that.” You protested breathlessly. “You can tell me you like my ponytail but you can’t tell me you like the back of my neck.”

“Why? What am I missing?” Tom asked in a forlorn attempt to get some understanding. “Is there some compliment rule book I’m not following?”

“No. It’s just...” You shrugged and you trailed off. “Friends can like my hairstyle, okay? They can tell me my hair looks nice or cute or whatever and that’s fine.”

“Okay.” Tom tried to follow.

“Liking the back of my neck, Tom…”, your sentence tampered off as you nervously combed your fingers through the end of your braid.

“What?” Tom asked. “Please tell me.”

“That’s a boyfriend thing.” You finally admitted, and the air thickened in the room. “That’s something a boyfriend would notice. A really, really good one, at that.”

Just about every emotion hit Tom at once, making him stumble backwards a little as he processed your words. You had just cut the wire you had both been avoiding, and now the bomb had gone off. You would never be just friends again. Even if the conversation ended amicably, your relationship would never go back to what it was.

“Oh.” Tom said, squeezing his eyes shut as he regretted his pathetic answer.

“Look, Tommy.” You sighed and stepped further into his room. “I’ve always put my relationships in boxes. I have friends in one, crushes in the other. That’s how it’s always been. But you,” you shrugged helplessly and folded your arms, “you blur the line. You fall in both boxes. And when you tell me things like liking the back of my neck”, you looked at him in anguish, “you blur the line even more. You blur it so much that I can’t even tell where you fall. I don’t see any boxes. All I see is you.”

The corner of Tom’s mouth twitched, curving into a smile at you admission. He took a step closer to you, taking one of your braids between his fingers and toying with it.

“Have I ever told you I like the bridge of your nose?” Tom began. “I like the way it sits on your face. It’s like the bouquet of flowers in the middle of the table.”

“Tom.” You tried you stop him before he made irreparable damage to your friendship.

“Your collarbones look more prominent when you wear silver necklaces, but softer when you wear gold ones. You only wear gold ones if you’re wearing red or green, though.” He continued. “You love putting highlighter on your collarbones when your outfit leaves them exposed, but your absolute favorite thing to do is put blush on your nose. You never skip that. Even on days when you’re tired.”

“You don’t have to do this.” You shook your head, wordlessly begging with him to stop.

“Your pony tail is always lopsided because you lean on your hand when you write or type, and I think that’s wildly endearing. It also gives me a better view of the back of your neck, but we don’t have to talk about that.” He cracked a smile, and you did too. “You can’t tell jokes because you get too excited and give the punchline away. It annoys Harry but I think it’s adorable. Your socks never match and you can’t sleep unless your closet doors are closed. It makes you too nervous.”

“Please-“

“You pretend to scratch your nose when you’re uncomfortable in a conversation and need a break from making eye contact. You don’t do it with me but you do it with Harry sometimes when you can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic.” Tom recalled. “You always do it when you’re talking to our neighbor to the left because he makes you feel uneasy. Do you need me to go on?”

“No.” You said quickly. “What point are you trying to make here?”

“I’m trying to say that if these are boyfriend things, I’m okay with that. That’s just how I love you.” He said passionately. “I notice things. I notice everything that makes you up. So I’m sorry if that confuses things for you, but I’m also not sorry. You’re too good not to notice.”

Your eyebrows went up as your jaw slacked like your face was being pulled by a string. Your hand went to your necklace, a delicate gold chain with your initial hanging from it. It was a gift from Tom two Christmas’s ago, and you wore it every time you wore red or green. You didn’t have to say it, but both of you knew you were wearing green underneath Toms hoodie. Your mind was an ocean of words but none of them were making their way to your mouth. You stood there in silence and your hand moved to the back of your neck, finding a home there.

“Y/n, I’m sorry.” Tom sighed when he gaged your reaction. “I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“You always use the blue mug in the morning.” You said after a beat of silence. “You use it in the morning but never at any other time of the day. I don’t know why you do it but you do. I always thought you never let anyone else use the blue mug until you made me tea in it after my breakup with Brad. I swear, the tears stopped falling right then and I think you noticed that because you always give me that mug when I’m sad.” You laughed softly. “Your hair stylist combs your hair to the left but you like it all pushed back. You always leave two buttons unbuttoned on your shirts and you leave your closet doors open when you sleep. It drives me crazy but you do.”

Toms lips melted into a firm line as tears filled his eyes. He always felt like a book that only he could understand, but you had just interpreted the pages. He was rendered speechless as you revealed all the things you noticed about Tom but never spoke about.

“I notice too.” You said softly. “Maybe not the back of your neck, but I notice.”

Tom smiled brightly at you, feeling his heart swell just from the sight of you. He looked down bashfully and stepped closer to you, your chests touching once again.

“I, uh, I started leaving my closet doors open as a kid so Sully from Monsters Inc would have an easier time getting in my room.” Tom admitted. “I used to wait up to meet him and I never broke that habit.”

“Oh my God.” You chuckled and wiped a tear you hadn’t even realized had fallen. “You’re an adult.”

Tom laughed along with you, a comfortable silence replacing the sadness of the room with your highest hopes.

“You’re my best friend.” Tom said suddenly as his laughter died down.

“And you’re mine.” You told him.

“I don’t want you like a best friend.” He shook his head rapidly as he put his hand on the back of your neck and pulled you into a kiss. You put your hands on either side of his face and pulled him impossibly closer, taking the chance to grip the curls on the back of his neck. Tom smiles against your lips and grabbed both your braid in one hand, tugging them firmly to deepen the kiss.

“These damn braids.” Tom groaned, making you laugh into the kiss.

“You should’ve told me you liked the back of my neck sooner.” You said between kisses.

“I hadn’t seen that episode of Grey’s Anatomy yet.” Tom spoke breathlessly as he pulled you in for another heated kiss. You tangled your fingers in his hair before pulling away suddenly when you processed what he said.

“Wait, what?”

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[dream-a-little-bigger-darling000]

Author's Note: Hi that isn't my GIF. But this is my fic and I would really appreciate it if you told me how you thought it was, and if you especially like it, my requests are open friends. :3 I have the spicy sad right now, and needed a little angst with a happy ending. Ok, be fed I guess.

This has 3,000+ words, are you proud of me or what!?

From the prompt: As teenagers, a boy and a girl agree to marry if neither have by their 35th birthday. Follow the boy as he attempts to sabotage every relationship the girl has until then.

"Hey Tommy? I was thinking."

"That's a shit idea, you should stop doing that"

You swiped at the back of his head.

"Shut up you ass, I'm serious."

"Hi serious I'm- OW fucking hurt is what I am it's a joke, learn to take a-AH." You hurdled a handful of playground pebbles at the 17 year old.

"Alright, alright gorgeous, hit me- No! I meant hit me with the question you little shit." It was getting hard to breathe when he got you to giggle so hard.

You're laughter died down. You looked down, unsure if you could look at his face when you said this.

"I don't have a boyfriend." He abruptly stopped laughing, hiding the obvious fact that he almost choked on his own spit. You breathed a laugh again.

"I don't have a boyfriend. And you don't have a girlfriend." Your smile slipped off.

Tell him. Tell him, you're almost there. I don't have anyone, and you don't either except we do we have each we have each other we have-

You looked to Tommy, his boyish presence fitting on the swing set made for much younger kids. You were much younger kids when you met for the first time, on this very swing set. You think about telling him you fell in love with him when he pushed Jackson Paloski down on the asphalt because Jackson said trailer-trash can't play on the nice swing set. You didn't know it was love though, you were in the fourth grade but your heart still beat a little faster and when you asked him if you could sit beside him during lunch he huffed and complained, showing off he was moody and tough and haughty, but he very obviously made Michael Welsh move from his spot beside Tommy so that the pretty new girl could take her place beside him. And you stayed there. For years. Right beside him.

You felt the breath leave your lungs as you thought about telling him you can't stop thinking about him lately.

Can't stop hoping your skin will touch when he asks you to pass him something.

Can't help feeling like punching every girl that makes a scene trying to gain his attention. You're usually so focused on glaring at the girl that you miss the way he shrinks in on himself, the way he actively turns his body to you.

You think about telling him. And how telling him could mean you could do more, be more.

You think about telling him. And you think about him pulling away from you, gently gathering his things as he stumbles over how to let you down easily, unaware that that's not an option any more. Tommy letting you down would mean shattering.

You clench your jaw. His eyes try to tell you something.

"So. So since. We don't have someone." You look toward the Shell gas station across the street. Tommy wets his lips with a quick swipe of his tongue.

Your throat twinges, the twinge you get when you're trying to hold back tears. You shrug to yourself and let out a breathy laugh.

Coward.

"So since we don't have hot dates, we should make a deal." You make your voice upbeat. You know Tommy can call your bullshit but he doesn't, sit's quietly.

"If by the time we're 35, and we don't have a, someone, to, ya' know. We should get married." Your heart clenches. "If we don't have. Like if I don't have a husband, and you don't. Have a girl, or-" Tommy is quiet. White hot panic races up your spine. You look over at him.

Tommy looks-

He looks like he's frozen, like he's still a few sentences behind, and you're about to throw in the towel and swallow a few of these pebbles so you'll choke and die and won't have to hear his laughter tear apart your heart.

Then Tommy blinks and kind of hunkers in on himself, looks anywhere but you, eyes shifting and darting. His smile isn't his when he manages it.

"Oh, you're so on, sweetheart."

It's not quite right. The atmosphere is still tense and you feel like there's a conversation you're meant to be having, like there were supposed to be different words spoken and heard during that time.

But having Tommy, even if it's like this, even if he doesn't want you like you ache for him, is better than not having him at all.

Beside you, while you hurt quietly beside him, watching the sun set, rocking back and forth on the too low swing, Tommy swallows down self-hatred and overwhelming feelings. Instead, he schemes.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It's been five years since you've made your little deal with Tommy. Five years, and every single time you've tried to move on from the man, it's ended in catastrophe.

The time you two had just graduated high school and drove to Tommy's house so his older brother could congratulate you two. Brendan had had a buddy over that night, not much older than you, and you would be lying if you said you didn't flush appreciatingly at his sly smile toward you and the way he actively tried to add you in on the conversation.

The night ended rather abruptly when Tommy had spilled hot tea all over the guys front. Tommy was always collected, and it was rare moment when he was clumsy. Never mind the fact that Tommy never drank tea, and actively made fun of you drinking the stuff.

Or the time you two reluctantly went to Brendan's wedding. You loved Tess, and thought they were a great couple, but stomaching an entire ceremony of the two being gross and affectionate, all while you and Tommy couldn't boo and throw miscellaneous items at them? The entire evening was spent with Tommy snuggly against your side snarking quietly in your ear, so close you could feel his warm breath on the entire side of your face.

Yes, your plan of moving on was going swimmingly.

Then Tommy went to the bathroom, and a handsome man smiled at you across the room. You tentatively smiled back, and he moved as if to cross the distance. Then immediately stopped, his face dropping and his eyes widening slightly as he spotted something a little over your shoulder. You saw him clear his throat and veer toward a large group laughing.

Your felt your face slightly warm and your heart drop a little, self consciously looking over your shoulder.

And let out a noise of surprise.

Tommy stood behind you, so close for a second you thought a very well dressed wall had somehow appeared while you weren't looking. You had just enough time to see 'The Expression'.

Tommy was an amazing fighter. And all throughout high school, he made sure while he minded his own, he could also hold his own, and everyone knew it. He had developed an expression, one that scared every single boy in this town shitless. It was a mix between unbridled rage and open invitation. The message was pretty clear and universal.

Come get some.

You usually laughed and teased him about it, because to you it just looked like he stubbed his toe and he was trying not to yell.

You weren't expecting to see it at his brother's wedding, and you certainly weren't laughing now.

In a blink it was gone from his face, and he turned to you with his beautiful sweet smile, the smile that showed just a little peak of his slightly messed up front teeth. He usually reserved that smile for you. You had never seen anyone else on the receiving end.

"Tommy, why were you just-"

"This blows, I just passed Tess and Brendan flirting. They're already married, why would they keep doing that." He rolled his eyes, moving to your side as his hand disappeared behind your back.

"Tommy did you just square up to the guy checking me ou-"

"Brendan's friend is here, the one who can can do a Kick Up."

You stared at each other for a long moment. You felt his hand barely ghosting over the small of your back. His eyes where sharp, a little desperate.

"Tommy."

"There's also a rumor he killed a guy with just a playing card."

You licked your lips. He raised his eyebrows, his lips getting distracting.

"Shit Conlon, why didn't you start with that, take me to him."

Or the time, more recently, when you went to a match to watch Tommy completely destroy his opponent. You loved going out to see him fight. Loved the adrenaline and the satisfaction when Tommy won, making him less timid, a little more rowdy and confident, a little more touchy and feely.

You've kind of given up on the whole moving on thing, even if it was driving you up a wall.

Tommy had just won, and you were eagerly waiting to congratulate him, excited to hug him freely, without him wondering why you were hugging him to begin with. And maybe to hold on a little tighter. Maybe to allow your hands to rove a little more freely.

Hey, was it not a night for celebration?

A man started to chat you up. You smiled patiently and gave some noncommittal grunts and affirmations as you continued to scan the crowd, looking for the familiar mass of Tommy, all hard edges and bulk. You were bouncing on the balls of your feet.

The guy moved closer, making a joke you didn't really hear. You laughed, your eyes darting and searching.

"You look beautiful by the way. I saw you watching the fight, crazy that you're into this stuff. Not a lot of women I know cheer like that."

You finally glance over to the man, but quickly get back to standing on your tip toes, looking above heads.

He doesn't even look that bad, and it's obvious he wants to get your number. He's just not the man you want chat with, and definitely not tonight. Not on a night that Tommy just won, and a night he'll want to come over to yours, joking and teasing, touching you much more confidently than he normally would. Falling asleep much more easier with his head on your lap.

You tamp down a smile. You wouldn't want this guy to get the wrong idea.

"You know, there's a really good Thai place down the road- Ah, fuck, watch it buddy. Can you not look where you're go-" You hear the man choke off the sentence, trying not to smile as you imagine the other guy. probably a lot bigger than he is. Wouldn't want to completely ruin his night by laughing at the guy.

"Fuuck me, buddy, sorry. I did not know who I was talking to." You could hear the man swallow. "Hey, I think you did great in the ring tonight, real good job of... Knocking that guy out. With one punch."

You whirled around, smiling so wide you felt the strain on your cheeks. There was only one guy who did that tonight.

Sure enough, Tommy was standing there. He had put on a shirt and took his gloves off, but he was still sweaty and breathing hard. He completely stanced up, like he is in the ring, and his expression was-

Well, you chalked it up to the testosterone flowing freely through the place. Probably just mad that he ran into another dude.

It still didn't stop you from running and jumping directly on him, arms coming up to wrap around his neck, legs completely circling his torso. You giggled into his neck, exclaiming how proud you were of him, how good he looked out there, completely stroking his ego, but not caring at the moment.

You felt his arms immediately span your back, feeling like his hands where trying to be everywhere at once. That was new. That was new and you couldn't say you hated it.

What you didn't see was the look on Tommy's face. The cold calm of someone who just threw a punch so hard at a man who was bigger and faster than him and shut his shit down. Directed at another man, much slower and smaller in comparison.

You didn't see the stranger's face pale, but you distantly heard the sound of chairs clatter to the ground as he turned tail.

Five years of pining (not so) quietly for Tommy, the man you had fallen in love with, but without a doubt did not love you back.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tommy knew without a doubt that he loved you.

All those years back in fourth grade, when he let it slip that his favorite snack was those crackers with the cheese filling, and you showed up with a whole pack of them to share, smiling this big goofy grin with your beautiful eyes and warm presence.

God how could he not.

The problem was how he was supposed to convince you to like him back. Him, Tommy, who fought most of his way through high school, who didn't like to get too close to people, who didn't like eye contact or conversation that ran too long or too forced. Who loved you though.

And who was very annoyed at the boy flirting with his girl.

It never failed to make Tommy's blood boil. He knew he had no right, because for one, he spent five years doing his damned best to break up every chance at you leaving him.

Just until you guys turn 35, right Tommy boy? You can probably keep that up.

Tommy breathed in a shuttering breath.

He just wanted to buy you your favorite drink at your favorite café. That's all he wanted to do. And maybe find and excuse to hold your hand without burning up from the embarrassment of actually having feelings (can you imagine?).

But of course, some dick-head always noticed how beautiful or kind or warm you were, and had to take their shot.

Well, Tommy was fucking sick of it.

Tommy thought of all the times, and there were a lot of times, when he had to step in and derail the situation. He knew this would be the last time. He had to do this, get rid of the unrelenting ache he felt while going to sleep, looking at you, thinking about you.

Tommy moved toward the you and the man you were talking to like he was entering the ring. With the mindset that he could get totally and irreversibly hurt, but he was gonna fight to the bloody end beforehand.

"Do you need directions?" Tommy asked as he slid up behind you, closer than he would have ever before. He felt your confusion even if he couldn't see your face.

"What?" The man was just as quizzical.

"Oh, I was just asking if you needed directions or if you could get lost on your own." Tommy raised his eyebrows, setting his hand on your hip, trying not to think about the many, many questions you'd have about that.

The man thought about arguing, but then he really looked at Tommy. Looked at you, then back to Tommy. Decided he didn't want to bleed tonight, and huffed out an angry sound.

You at least waited until he was out of ear shot before whirling on him.

"What. What was that?"

"Ok, I know what your probably thinking-"

"That you're out of your mind Tommy?! Are you kidding me right now? 'Get lost?' Get outta here with that shit, what was that?"

The two of you were pretty far back in the shop, but he still lowered his voice to make sure no one was bothered.

"Ok, yes, you're mad, I can see that-"

"Oooooh well I'm glad you can see that Tommy." You felt your face start to turn red, feeling exhausted and confused. "Explain. Explain to me Tommy, that every time a guy wants to have a nice, civil, God forbid, flirtatious conversation with me, he high tails it out of there just as fast, Tommy, explain."

Tommy felt an expanding ache somewhere behind his left eye.

"Ok. Ok I'm gonna say something stupid-"

"You always say something stupid, stupid-"

"Can you just. Can you let me finish." Tommy felt exasperated and a little insane. He was about to confess in a coffee shop to the girl he loved and things would never be the same again because she was about to leave, but fuck it if he wasn't at a boiling point.

"Ok. You know how we made a deal?" You looked at him, raising your eyebrows.

"About who could spray the most whipped cream in their mouth? Yeah it's me, it'll always be me. So you got so mad you're trying to, what, make sure I die alone, I don't..."

"What? No can you not, can you focus right now?" Tommy's palms were starting to sweat and he clenched his eyes shut tight. He breathed in and let it back out in one harsh huff. "When we were seventeen-"

"Seventeen?"

"When we were seventeen you said that if we weren't married by the time we were 35, that we should marry each other." He watched as your eyes widened and your face warmed a little. "Well, the deals off. I'm not doing it any more."

Tommy wasn't sure what to expect, but the flash of utter pain that tore across your face was not it. You stepped back, looked like you were about to bolt, your eyes wild. You tried to pull yourself together but it was really hard to breathe. No matter how many times you tried to prepare yourself for this day, you could have never imagined how it actually almost brought you know to your knees.

"So. Here's the new deal. If in like, five minutes, you're still single, and I'm still single..." Tommy swallowed hard, licking his lips. "We should just." His eyes darted to your lips.

You froze. Tommy caught his lush lower lip in between his teeth. He'd never been more nervous his entire life. So nervous for the inevitable laugh, the pity laced rejection, because really, it was one thing to be friends with a shy awkward boxer, but another to look at him and think, 'yeah, that'll do.'

Tommy had approximately five seconds to wallow in self deprecation and pure terror before he had a handful of you, and something that suspiciously felt like lips on his lips. But that's funny, because he's almost positive that that's not the case.

Then he felt your tongue swipe his lip and decided he cared fuck all and proceeded to get lost in you, your breaths, God he could feel, taste, your breath as you both got consumed by each other.

Someone coughed disapprovingly your way. The two of you broke apart, panting slightly.

"Ok, ok please don't. I really don't want you to hit me but I'm really fucking dense, right, and I just have to ask, you did that because you. You like like me- OW I said I didn't want you to hit me!"

You felt yourself laughing, felt your never ending ache subside and your love sky rocket.

"Oh, you're an idiot," You pecked his lips, he tried to catch your mouth fully but failed. "You are such and idiot- Oh my God we're both idiots holy- Hey. Hey, you, you've been. Have you been sabotaging-"

"Did you hear that?" Tommy tilted his head and looked toward the ceiling. "Ope- oh yeah. No. yeah, that's for sure the sound of-" He cut off, dropping his serious expression, grinning as he leaned down and kissed your mouth again, this time taking your words and any objections, affectively cutting off any questions that would leave him looking stupid.

You two would need to sit down, to talk about how you've felt all these years, how you were both so stupid that you both refused to confess to each other.

But for now, you lost yourself in the taste of Tommy, and the heady feeling of someone you've loved for seemingly forever, loving you back.

Real Quick: Would you be mad if in the next fics I write I called this man Tomithy? Asking for a friend.

[joestarwhore]

Risotto Nero - A Price to Pay

{Being the only girl in the Bucci Gang has its perks. Your familia loved you, & were fiercely protective- but what’re they supposed to do when another Capo decides to have you to himself? He’s gotta have you.}

{one way or another.}

_____________________________________

“Bucciarati were almost to Napoli, should I head straight for the city or the safe house?”

Fugo’s sharp voice woke you from your nap. You & the team have been traveling for days tracking three stand users who’ve been smuggling contraband out of Passioné’s grasp. So far, the trail has led to Napoli- and to make it worse, no one knows what they look like. But luckily, you had the name of the man in charge of the operation.

“Go to the safe house. They’re not going to move anything in broad daylight, & we haven’t been able to stop for an actual break.” Bruno circled the location on Fugo’s map. “We can spare a few hours.”

You looked to your right to see Mista asleep against the window, drool slowly coming out of his mouth. You would’ve laughed if you had any right to, with the glimpse of yourself you caught in the rear view you were surprised no one woke you up with a camera flash.

You stretched your neck side to side, your movements slowly bringing your body back to life. You could hear Giorno, Abbachio, and Narancia gently start stirring to life as Bruno continued to talk about the location, not being able to keep in their loud ass yawns. Well, honestly, that was only Narancia’s problem.

Bruno swiveled the seat to face the back, his perfect black bob not moving an inch while he does it. “Now that we’re in Napoli, it’s time to be debriefed about our current situation. Would one of you please wake Mista?”

Abbachio wasted no time to slap Mista in the back of the head, causing Mista to lurch forward with a yelp. His hand immediately went to the back of his head as he whipped around towards Abbachio. “What the hell, you dumbass!! What was that for??”

“For debriefing you idiot, pay attention.”

You giggled, resulting in a hearty “Shut up!” from Mista. After Bruno’s scolding, he started to explain the facts.

“The intelligence we received stated that the man controlling the contraband operation is a Capo. His name is Risotto Nero, the leader of La Squandra. He’s been known to defy the Familia before, so it’d make sense that he would be the one running this show.”

Bruno’s face slowly grimmed as he continued, pausing after he spoke. “While he is a traitor to the Familia, he is also one of the most powerful Capo’s in the organization. Not just because of his title, but because of his stand.”

The tension grew substantially.

“What’s his stand, Boss? Does anyone have an idea?” Narancias question rung in the air like a bell.

“No. Because no ones lived to tell about it.”

The chill that ran down your spine was unnerving. No one knows what his stand is?? No one has even the slightest idea?? How can that be?

“Boss, how’re we supposed to find this cazzo when all we have to go on is a name?” you ask, “How’re we supposed to defend ourselves against a stand that no one has ever beat?”

“By keeping your stand close. Giorno’s Golden Wind can sense life, and Narancia can track anything that breathes. Abbachio’s Moody Jazz could very well be our ace in the hole, if we can simply find where he’s been- but that’s hard to do when you’re following a ghost.”

God, that wasn’t reassuring.

Soon, Fugo’s road rage landed you at the safe house, a 3 story cabin in the middle of the woods. Mista’s excitement blossomed as soon as he saw the giant flatscreen through the window, everyone else’s did when they finally got to leave the stuffy ass van.

Abbachio helped you out of the car, letting you hang on to his arm until you’ve cracked all the bones you needed to feel relief. “Thank you Abba, I’ve been needing to do that for a while now!”

Abbachio threw you a smirk. “Yeah yeah don’t get gross on me.” He could throw up any facade he wants- you see right through his badass tough guy wall. You gave him a grin back, & grabbed your duffel bag out from under your seat. You looked back to see that the other boys had already made it inside, Bruno & Giorno already setting up the radio & laptops to start working.

Bruno def wasn’t playing around when he was looking for a place to buy. This was the nicest cabin you had ever seen, pure dark wood walls with marble flooring, a grand staircase with a BEAUTIFUL bay window?? Capo DEFINITELY had perks.

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

[3:33 AM]

You bolted awake as thunder and lightning surrounded your bedroom. Your mind frantic as the open curtains revealed howling winds and light flashing through the skies.

You took some deep breaths and calmed yourself down. It’s only a storm, nothing to- why was your door open?

Adrenaline started to churn in your stomach as you swung your legs over your bed. You stepped carefully towards the hallway, peeking down to see that everyone else’s doors were open too. You tip toed down, peering into Bruno & Abbachio’s rooms, seeing them both empty; and upon further inspection, so were Giorno’s and Mista’s. Narancia and Fugo’s following suit.

Where the fuck is everyone, and why are you not with them?

You back tracked down the hall, your legs shaking as you slowly walked down the stairs.

Were you being attacked?

The lightning lit your path down the stairs as you kept your eyes peeled for anything out of place. As you came down to the first platform, the stench of blood overwhelmed your senses, making your eyes grown wide and your hand go over your mouth and nose. This cannot be real, why is blood in the air??

“You know when I first saw you, I thought you were an angel among the saints & sinners of Napoli.”

Your hand gripped the banister as you stood in defense, looking everywhere for the source of the deep voice. Who was that?? Where the fuck is your team??

“& Then I saw Ghiaccio getting in a fight with another Mafioso. I thought it was just one of Bucciaratis boys, but oh was i so close yet so wrong.”

You slowly made your way down stairs, “I guess your a big fan of mine then, quite a shame I can’t see where you are for such occasion.”

A deep chuckle resonated through the estate. “Our life together will be wonderful, I am very sure.”

“The fuck are you-“

Your stomach dropped.

The blood. The gashes. The gore.

All of the boys were hanging by their hands, bloody chains protruding from their wrists and connecting them to the ceiling. Blood oozed from Fugos mouth, while Narancias unconscious form clearly had a broken nose and extreme loss of blood. They all were simply.. hanging by a thread.

“Jesus fucking Christ.. you’re fuc-fucking kidding..”

Invisible hands hold onto your sides as your body freezes in shock, the pressure and heat of them telling you they were quite large. Your heart beater out of your chest as you felt a muscular set of abs press against your back, those hands weaving over your chest to hold down your arms.

“Do you see, Amore? Do you see how powerful I am compared to them?” Your eyes tore away from the bloodied boys, closing them as tightly as you could. “When I saw how powerful you were and how you carried yourself, I knew we were soul mates. I had to have you. I had to have your body, your mind,” His hand rubbed gently against your clothes crotch, shooting heated adrenaline to your core, “& your pretty little cunt just full of my kids.”

Your cheeks turned violently red as you staggered to breathe. “Who..are you..”

Lips pressed against your temple as a deep chuckle vibrated your body. “Darling, I’m the whole reason you’re out here.”

Your heart froze.

“Risotto?? It’s you?!”

Suddenly two black clothed muscular arms appeared around you, one of them tilting your chin back to reveal two black and red eyes staring straight at you. “Surprised, Cara?”

You started to panic, the danger of your situation settling in. Bruno, Giorno, all of the boys, were out of action. There was no help for you, and you couldn’t summon your stand like this. Was this simply the end? Was he just saving you for last for his sick fantasy??

“Please.. what do you even want from me??”

Risotto put your hands behind your back and tied them together. “What I’ve wanted since I saw you; a life. With just you & me.” He placed you on a chair, kneeling before you with his hands tracing you and your skin. Your breath hitched as he ran over certain spots, his eyes growing darker and darker the more you react. You had to do something, you couldn’t let your family be killed over someone’s obsession over you.

“I’m going with you whether I like it or not, right?”

Risotto chuckled a humorless laugh. “A smart one! Oh i like that, I like that. Maybe our kids will get that trait.”

Dread sunk in your stomach. There’s no escape, is there?

“If I go with you, willingly with no struggle- will you allow me to use my stand on them so they atleast don’t die of their injuries?”

Risotto stared at you, looking for any sign of betrayal, but he wasn’t gonna find anything. You knew there wasn’t a way out, and you knew you didn’t stand a chance in hell against him. Atleast if you can save the boys, there wouldn’t be any death.

“Fine. But one slip up, Amore, and I’ll make your condition worse than theirs.”

Risotto unbinded your arms, helping you stand up and get your balance again. You walked towards the boys until you were a few meters away from them. You could sense their shallow breathing from your powers, you knew if you were gonna do this you had to act fast.

“Iron Maiden.”

A steam punk victorian girl emerged behind you, wielding a glowing white scythe, its jet black hair flowing behind her.

“Scythes Blessing.”

Iron Maiden hovered to the front of you, your scythe glowing bright white as it swung a mass of energy towards them all. Their wounds mended together, the blood returning to their bodies. After the act was done, the boys passed out on the floor, surely to wake up in a few hours.

“Now, we start our life, my sweet angel.”

Tears silently went down your cheeks as you turned to the beautiful, evil man. His eyes showed a softness towards you as he extended his giant hand. Your dainty one took his, holding it as he led you to the door.

“Where are you taking me?”

Risotto swung open the huge doors to reveal the storm still actively raging, his matte black sports car in the circle drive. “Home, cara. Our home.”

You hurried to get in his front seat, Risotto closing your door and going to the drivers door. He got in, revving the car to life and pulled the car out of the drive way. Risotto placed his hand on your thigh as he took you away from the estate. Your heart hurt for your boys, but this was for the best, right? Atleast this way they’re safe. They’re safe.

“Say your goodbyes Cara. Your life starts over with me.”

“Only me.”

[thankskenpenders]

And so that’s it... nearly 200 issues deep, we’re done with the contributions of original writer Michael Gallagher. I’ve been asked in the past about the possibility of writing an article going over Gallagher’s run, like what I did with Penders. And I might still do that. But for now, here’s a shorter postmortem summarizing my feelings on the work of the original writer for history’s longest-running video game comic

I think it’s easy to look back on Gallagher’s silly old stories with a lot of nostalgia, especially after seeing what the series would become in its Dark Age. I can’t blame anyone who feels this way. I feel that way sometimes, too. It was a simpler time, with short, self-contained stories and a ton of puns, and it was a lot more easily digestible than a lot of the teen melodrama and half-baked sci-fi that followed. But the thing is... that doesn’t mean that Gallagher’s writing was good

Gallagher was always an odd fit for Sonic. I can’t really blame the man for introducing lame concepts like Cal and Al that didn’t fit in with Sonic early on because it’s not like he had much to work with in the early days. The guy was expected to write a monthly comic series based on a couple 16-bit platformers with very little story and some snippets from a cartoon that wasn’t out yet. He also had no way of knowing that his work here would lay the foundation for the longest video game comic ever made. I don’t envy his job. Of course he’d do a goofball story where Sonic travels back to caveman times. It’s not like he had much else to do

But as the series progressed and the cartoons and games gave the comic writers more material to work with, Gallagher didn’t really play along. He gave us a few solid, fun stories like Mecha Madness, but for the most part he was off in his own world, trying to sell us on shoehorned characters like the Forty Fathom Freedom Fighters or the Downunda Freedom Fighters who existed almost exclusively to deliver new flavors of lame pun. One time he even worked with Jim Valentino to make a naval-gazing parody of classic Guardians of the Galaxy so they could make lame puns about a comic they used to write (that very few children in 2001 reading Archie Sonic would be familiar with)

People generally pinpoint Penders as the guy who became obsessed with his own pet characters over the main cast as time went on, but really, Gallagher was just as guilty. And honestly, sometimes Gallagher doing it bugged me more. At least Penders had some prominent characters people actually liked, like Elias, Lara-Su, and Julie-Su, as well as some semblance of an overarching plot to work with. Meanwhile Gallagher was over here trying desperately to get people to care about a group of characters he had created exclusively as a vehicle for trite Australia jokes

Gallagher did introduce a few characters who stuck around, but he doesn’t really deserve much of the credit for that. Most notable would probably be Fiona Fox, who would become a major recurring character under later writers... except Gallagher only really invented her robotic doppelganger that Robotnik tricked Tails into falling in love with that one time. He created Knuckles’ grandfather Athair, the one comic character to somehow make it into a cartoon, but Penders helped out with that lore and did more with the character, meaning most people just assume he’s another Penders echidna. He created Tails’ parents, but Karl and Ian were the ones who actually did stuff with them. And he created the Ancient Walkers, who were kind of neat at first but quickly devolved into a tired plot device, only to be killed off by Ian almost immediately to cut down on the deus ex machinas. If you look at the list of characters Gallagher created, it’s mostly just randos he created for the sake of puns

And that’s really what most of it comes down to. Lame puns. I’m totally down for Sonic stories that go for a silly tone. I love Sonic Boom as much as the next fan, and I’ve been having a blast with the extremely goofy Sonic X comics. I’m not a cartoon snob who won’t watch a show that doesn’t have action and drama and lore, I’m out here watching shows like Apple & Onion. But while Gallagher could write good jokes sometimes, he mostly relied on groanworthy newspaper strip-level puns. (I guess it’s fitting, considering he’s related to both the guy who created Heathcliff AND his successor who makes those comics about the Garbage Ape.) I love me a good pun from time to time, and a lot of Gallagher’s are funnier when shared out of context, but when a story is just wall to wall puns it becomes agonizing. Puns should be a spice, not a main ingredient. And when Gallagher got a chance to follow an ACTUAL newspaper comic strip format in the Off Panel, he fared even worse. It was so rare for the Off Panels he wrote to actually be any funny

He WAS genuinely funny at times, though. I’ll give him credit for that. I don’t want it to seem like I hated ALL of his stories. (He did impress me with at least one political joke that’s sadly still relevant today, and in hindsight there’s something really funny on a meta level about the dark and gritty return of Cal and Al.) I think his best work came when he was paired with better artists. Scott Shaw’s more energetic Sonics really helped sell the cartoony comedy in the original miniseries, and obviously Spaziante’s work on Mecha Madness made that story legendary. When he was stuck with the less exciting Manak or Mawhinney, though, not so much

Beyond the puns, there was also this undercurrent of nastiness, meanness, and general grossness in his stories that I don’t see as many fans pick up on. This was mainly evident in the many odd decisions he made with the female cast

We had his take on Sally, who was treated as little more than Sonic’s annoying, moody, bossy girlfriend who bickered with him, sat on a big throne, and occasionally got to be a damsel in distress. He added Bunnie to the cast early on, but it felt like he didn’t have many ideas for what to do with her except make her the butt of jokes about her being a southern belle, including literally making her say “the South shall rise again!” We had Barby Koala’s extremely creepy flirting with Tails, who was half her age. We had that tone deaf Off-Panel joke about turning the special dedicated to the female readers into a swimsuit special (which isn’t far off from what everyone else actually did). And we also had that baffling story where Dulcy killed her mother. I have NO idea what the fuck he thought he was going for with that one.

It wasn’t just the girls, though--Antoine was somehow even more of a punching bag in Gallagher’s early stories than he was on SatAM. At least in the cartoon Sonic was responding to Antoine’s’ massive ego when he poked fun at him. In the early comics, Sonic would constantly rag on Antoine at any opportunity he got. It was VERY distracting in the early issues, and it made his Sonic come off as way more of a jerk

Later writers would often talk about needing to fix certain characters. Penders, for all his countless insufferable faults, used his early stories to steer Sally towards the version of the character fans knew from SatAM. (He then ruined Sally in his own special way, but, you know.) Just about every writer who touched him spent years and years trying to fix Antoine and make readers stop hating him. The unspoken part here is that the original incarnations of these characters that everyone had to work so hard to fix... were Gallagher’s

Again, Gallagher didn’t have an easy job as the first writer on this series, and most of his stories were... fine. Nothing I’d recommend to non-fans, but they had their moments. They make for an amusing read for their sheer absurdity. But a lot of it ranged from not very good to outright bad. We’ll always cut him some slack for having so little to work off of when he started and for writing stories that were, in hindsight, better (or at least less grating) than a lot of the melodramatic schlock that came later. I’ll always have some nostalgia for those simpler times. But that doesn’t necessarily mean that Gallagher’s stuff was ever all that good

But I can’t hate the guy too much, because he gave me the greatest Sonic character of all time

[billiedeanhwrd]

mind is just as frail as it's frame, you know i'd leave it alone

billie dean howard x reader

summary: you're fighting a losing game with your disorder, let's hope it's not too late when your ex-girlfriend shows up in your apartment.

warnings: eating disorders (bulimia), depression, sad ending

word count: 1730

a/n: this is basically a vent i dumped into my notes app in one sitting after not being inspired to write for way too long, so, pls don't judge too harshly and pls DONT READ THIS IF IT COULD TRIGGER YOU

gif credits to @mildredratchds

You had fallen into the dark, deep blue again. Time and time again you fell and you fought your way out, you fell and you picked yourself up again. Not this time though, you were drowning and there was nothing you could do to get back to air. You were trapped in this pool of misery as if it was locked on the surface, and there was no way you were getting out of it by yourself.

The last time it got this bad you had Billie, sweet, sweet Billie, who would've sacrificed her life to help you in any shape or form, but she was gone. Her departure left a cavity in your heart, yet you couldn't be mad at her. She had tried. But you locked her out when you needed her the most. There really was no one else to blame for the decaying of your heart, but you.

Nothing particularly bad happened that would've caused you to spiral this extremely, it was simply the fact that everything was bad, everything is bad, and everything would always be bad. In reality, your problems weren't getting worse, but the continuous strain of having to deal with the same troubles every single day was eating away at your resistance. You could feel the energy and willpower to keep going creeping out of your body, leaving you with the empty shell of who you used to be.

You hadn't talked to Billie in months, after repeated tries to break down your walls and being pushed away every single time, she gave up. You did it, you pushed away the one person who truly cared for you. Your mind was clouded by self-hatred and anguish, it was as if your eyes were shielded by a grey layer, making it impossible for the world to look anything but cold and loveless.

There was not a single thing that could spark up the joyous flame inside you. Nothing was even remotely good anymore. Nothing.

You were here, but at the same time, you weren't. As if you had taken a step back from reality. The feeling of not being real blurring the lines between good and bad. At certain moments the light inside you would flicker, pulling you back and guiding you to the right thing. But it was only a flicker. It was weak and it was temporary. The disordered desire to completely destroy yourself was starting to consume you.

Everything was blurry, the line between good and bad, the one between acceptable and inappropriate and most dangerously the one between you and your illness.

Were these your authentic thoughts or were they caused by a disorder?, was a question you often asked yourself, but never actually answered.

You had long reached past the point of not caring, now you wanted it, actively wanted absolute destruction. You resumed all your old unhealthy coping mechanisms and made no effort to stop your current ones.

Who would really care if you died? no one, at least that's what you made yourself believe.

Total isolation from friends and family was necessary so you could spend all your time focusing on your eating disorder.

Instead of spending your nights in the arms of the woman you loved, you spent them hunched over the toilet, hurling your guts out.

You felt weak and disgusting at all times, nothing about what you were doing was anywhere near glamorous. Well... except if anyone finds choking on your own vomit or all kinds of gross digestive issues glamorous.

You couldn't recognize the girl starring back at you in the mirror, who the hell even was this red-eyed girl? Her puffy cheeks stood out to you immediately. Snot, vomit, and bile were running down her face, probably picking at her skin. And her eyes... well, except for tears and popped blood vessels there was nothing in them. Not a single glimpse of happiness or remains of a person.

It was a heartbreaking sight that left you cold.

Dizzily you walked to your bed, too tired to do anything. The tiny remains of energy you had left you with the content of your stomach.

It was 5 in the evening and you were laying in bed, staring at the spinning ceiling, until your eyes fell shut.

Your friends had contacted Billie, she was the only one who used to be able to help you at least a little bit. She was there for you, always, and she never judged. She stood by you in your darkest times, supportively holding your hand and not letting go even when the going got tough. You were constantly terrified of dragging her down with you, the last thing you wanted was to rob the world of her angelic presence.

She would hold you close when you were down, which was admittedly most days. She would clean your apartment and do your laundry, things you didn't feel like you could do in the state you were in.

She loved you and you loved her.

Of course, you returned the favors, you were there for her as well, but you knew it was different. It was a bigger challenge being with someone so deeply intertwined with their illness, but she still did it.

She was your everything, and you had lost her.

Not only was she your light in this pitch-black hole others called life, but she was also your soulmate. The one you laughed with most. The one who got you, everything about you. You shared a myriad of beautiful moments that outshined any bad time for her. She wanted to marry you one day, of course, you didn't know that until you kicked her out of your apartment and discovered a red, velvet box weeks later when you finally cleaned out her drawer.

You were moody, irritable, impulsive, and horribly depressed. It seemed as if your actions didn't have consequences, life was a game of numbers. Calories in. Calories out. Nothing else mattered.

You felt no remorse when things ended with Billie. The realization only really hit you when you found the 18 carat Tiffany diamond.

For a second your eyes opened wide and your lips curled into a smile, despite having ruined the surprise proposal. Then, boom, it hit you and your heart crumbled. There was no surprise to ruin, anymore. You two were done. She didn't need you, she had moved on, appearing with a new side-piece on the covers of tabloids weekly.

Why would you even care though? You ended things. you could hear a painful laugh erupting from you, you didn't need her, you didn't need anyone, not when you had your innermost nervosa.

Eyes wide and dead, smile big and stiff, you looked horrifying. But what did it matter? Sanity was a hoax anyways.

When your friends called Billie she dropped everything for you, like she always had and always would. The second she heard how you were behaving, her heart rate went sky high. It was happening again, and this time, she wasn't there to throw you a lifejacket, this time, you were drowning on your own.

It was 6 in the evening, and you were laying in your bed, facing the now still-standing ceiling.

Billie chuckled to herself as she used the spare key you hid in your not-so-secret-secret hiding spot to open your front door. The apartment was just how you had left it.

After you had practically inhaled the kitchen until you were painfully full and then, of course, ritualistically aggressively forced your hand down your throat to un-do what just happened. That's what appealed to you about bulimia. The control. Life didn't have an undo button, so you had to create one for yourself. You cheated in the dirtiest games of them all and your pride overthrew every bit of rationality that was left. Not once did the thought "I shouldn't be doing this" enter your mind, this was after all normal to you, blurry, but normal.

It doesn't work that way though, you can't undo anything or cheat your way through life just because you're unable to give up control. And a part of you knew that, a part of you wanted to listen to what your therapist had told you. She was right, you could drop dead at any second, the chances of having a sudden heart attack rising after every heave.

The smell of vomit invaded the medium's nose when the door creaked open, and her heart sunk. She wanted so badly to help you through this, stand by you, and overcome this with you, but you wouldn't let her. You made it impossible for her to be apart of your life. She had no energy to keep up the fight and so she left, like you wanted her to, like you said you wanted her to.

She called out your name. no response. you must be asleep somewhere, she thought. Your ex-girlfriend made her way through the food packages and dirty dishes on the floor to the bathroom, it wouldn't be the first time she'd find you passed out on the cold ceramic tiles. She flushed the toilet and wiped down the blood and vomit-covered toilet seat before stopping in the doorway to collect herself. Fiddling with her pearl necklace before taking a deep breath, she left the bathroom.

It was 6:10 in the evening when Billie switched off the light in the bathroom and headed to the kitchen, her red pumps echoing through your deadly silent apartment. She stopped in her tracks and seriously considered cleaning for a second, like she used to do for you when you were dating.

She missed you, a lot. She missed seeing the relief on your face when you entered your freshly cleaned kitchen after beating yourself up for nights for not being able to just. Do. IT. She missed the way your eyes sparkled when you looked at her, she missed your bear-hugs and cuddles, she missed everything about you. Billie shook her head, cleaning could wait, she needed to talk to you.

It was 10 past 6 in the evening and you were laying in your bed, which was how Billie found you a few seconds later.

Because everything was just how you had left it. Dirty dishes on the floor. Lights on. Vomit in the toilet. A lifeless body facing the ceiling.

[bangtanxmegan]

"she is growing up"

pairing: tony stark x reader

note: english is not my first language

Morgan goes to her closet and starts throwing all her clothes on the floor.

"Morgan, what's going on?" - Tony and I walk into her room together.

"Mom, today is my date with Derick and I don't know what clothes to put on." - the teen sighs dramatically.

"I think better you put on your pajamas and go to sleep..." - Tony whispers and I pinch his stomach.

I walk over to Morgan and hug her.

"I'll help you." - I start to go through the clothes lying on the floor. - "He told you where you guys are going?"

"At his family's Indian food restaurant."

"Is he so poor that he can't afford food?" - Stark asks with a frown on his face.

I grab the sneaker and throw it at him, but unfortunately the bastard deflects.

"Anthony, get out of here now."

"You're not the boss of me and I'll stay here." - he says crossing his arms and sitting on the bed.

You can wear these pants, this green blouse, and these sneakers. What do you think?"

"I love it, Mom." - Morgan picks them up and runs to the bathroom.

I pull Tony by the arm and we leave the bedroom. I turn to face him and kiss him.

"Improve that face, today is a special day for her and if you mess it up I will kill you."

The doorbell rings and I walk quickly to the door, with Tony following me. Derick, Morgan's boyfriend, is standing in the doorway with a bouquet of daisies.

"Good evening. I brought these flowers for you." - the boy smiles.

"Oh, thank you." - I hug him and give him a quick kiss on the head.

"Good evening, Mr. Stark." - Derick holds out his hand to my husband, who childishly turns his face away and disappears into the kitchen. - "Did I do something wrong?" - Derick asks nervously.

"No...he woke up a little moody. Don't worry, come you can come in, Morgan is already downstairs."

It's been quite a while since I've seen Tony since Morgan left.

"Love, are you there?"

I walk into our room but no sign of him. I go upstairs to clean up the mess my daughter had made and there he was. Sitting on her bed, gloomy and looking at a picture.

"Tony, are you okay?" I approach Tony sitting down next to the brunette, he pulls me close and sighs.

"She is growing up so fast... in two years she is going to college, away from me."

"She's already 16, she's growing up and she won't always be our little baby." - I hold his face. - "I know that girl well, I know how much she loves you and that she will never leave you. I also know that whatever trouble she has you will get there in less than a minute. You are father and daughter, the connection you two have no one will take away."

He smiles and looks again at the photo in which Morgan was only 5 years old and standing on Tony's pet alpaca, kissing her father's cheek.

"It seems like yesterday that she said she loved me three thousand."

I distribute kisses all over Tony's face and he pulls me to sit on his lap.

"I'm much better now, I think it's about time we went to our bedroom and make some brothers for Morgan."

As soon as he leaves our daughter's room, with me still on his lap, he closes the door and presses my body to the cold wall.

"Today we are going to make a whole soccer team." - he starts laughing nibbling on my neck.

"Oh my God!" - Morgan screams covering her eyes. - "You guys could do that in the bedroom, not in the hallway. Gross..."

[achaoticeternal]

willow // r. weasley

RON WEASLEY X READER folklore/evermore series masterlist

Summary: Ron, Harry, and Hermione have always been your closest friends. But as we grow up and people change, how do our feelings change? Word Count: 3.1k Warnings: time jumps and weird flows but it makes sense so that the story can build. harassment. gushy love stuff (gross) A/N: based on the song willow by taylor swift

As the years passed at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, students would flourish into adolecense making them young fools for years to come. But as you often quoted to your dear friend Hermione, “We are all fools in love” - Jane Austen.

“Well if we are simply all fools in love, then tell me where is your knight in shining armor?” The young witch teased you as you sat in the courtyard, reading and simply enjoying each other’s company. 

“Oh, please, Hermione. You know me better then to be some dimwitted girl who chases around a boy who is oblivious to her affections. In fact, I feel bad for the girls who do, because if they were a little more patient, they would see that good things come in due time.”

“Really? And which prized author said that?”

“I did!” The pair of you snickered as your attentions drifted around to see if you could spot the topic of your conversation.

The two of you seemed to be the only fourth year girls who hadn’t taken fascination with boys in your year or older. Every day in the Gryffindor Common Room, many girls gossiped about the latest drama that had developed and which boys they swear fancied them. And though you enjoyed chatting with your female peers, you and Hermione had felt quite left out of the crushes and strange romances beginning to blossom.

Well, you both were left out until Viktor Krum swept Hermione off her feet, and you couldn’t exactly be mad at her for it. In fact, when she confided in you about her fling with the foreign man, you were completely ecstatic as you both giggled at how the other girls at Hogwarts would react. Jealousy took quite a toll on many girl, and apparently a few men. 

And even furthermore to Ron’s surprise, both of you had gotten dates to the Yule Ball before Harry or himself could ask you. Roger Malone, a kind Ravenclaw who you had Divination with, had asked you and you did have a wonderful evening. Even if Ron persistently made snide remarks about him before, during, and after the ball had concluded.

However, your fourth year and seemingly most dangerous year at Hogwarts, was quickly coming to a close with the students of Beauxbaton and Durmstrang leaving just a few days ago. The Summer Holiday was coming up quicker than you expected and soon your small group of friends would all be returning to your homes.

“Everything is going to change now, isn’t it?” Hermione asked our group of four after our international peers has departed.

“Yes, but we have each other.”

Once you had stepped of the Hogwarts Express, your parents whisked you away to the family summer cottage so that you could forget the grief of the past year. From watching the trials of the tournament, to puberty, and to loosing a classmate; life was quickly moving forward and your parents began to fear the return of The Dark Lord. 

Yet instead of being caught up with family time and walks along the beach, your mind counted down the days until you would be spending time with the Weasley family again before classes started. You always felt welcomed by the family of gingers and were thrilled that you were invited back after attending the Quidditch World Cup with them last summer.

For the last month, you had been owling your friends weekly, yet you seemed to be sending and receiving owls from Ron every other day. He had never been much of a writer, but claimed in his letters that he was extremely bored with the twins now being of age and not seeing his friends yet that summer.

When it became closer to time, Ron wrote to you saying that the Weasley’s had temporarily moved to a town home in the city, but that you were still welcome to join. He then wrote that his mother had owled your parents about the change and your arrangements to join the Weasley’s before school began.

And before you knew it, you were heading the Grimauld Place.

“(Y/N), darling, its time for us to go!” Your father called down from the bottom of the stairs.

You stomped down the stairs in your new summer clothes, rushing next to your parents at the fireplace. Your clothes and bags had already been sent off and now you’re parents would be sending you off as well.

“Change of plans, dear. We will be join you and the Weasley’s until dinner.”

“Alright, is everything okay?”

“Oh yes, everything is fine. We just have to attend a brief meeting and then we’ll be out of your hair.”

You and your parents arrived in the Kitchen of the hidden apartment without a hitch. Both Weasley parents along with their son, Bill, stood closest to you. From where you stood, you could also see Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Professor Moody, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and to your surprise, Professor Snape.

“My heavens, its good to see you, (Y/N). Ron is upstairs, along with Hermione and Harry who only arrived in the past hour.” As soon as you had arrived, Mrs. Weasley had ushered you out of the room and shut the door quickly.

You looked around the dark hallway in order to try and get some idea of the flat you would be staying in for the next couple of weeks. Your gaze moved to the stairs and you began to stalk over to them and slowly make your way up, observing the wall paper and where it started to peel away from the wall. You had made it up the the landing, looking over strange vases and jars. 

Their was a faint whisper that you nearly missed, “Bloody hell.” Suddenly there were foot steps rapidly approaching you, yet your feet remained in place, your body unmoving, “(Y/N)!,” you body turned quickly towards the voice. Ron and you were chest to chest, nearly clashing into each, the red head beaming down at you as he pulled you into the hug. 

Ron had grown quite a few inches over the summer, now making him comfortably taller than you. His once long hair and been trimmed up and framed his face nicely, but still kept a boyish length that matched his personality. His embrace was warm as he pulled you tight to his chest, making your cheeks flush a dusty pink. You took the opportunity to breathe in his scent; cinnamon, flannel, and a crackling fire met your nose. Ron hadn’t completely changed, but he was certainly grown from the boy you had last seen near two months ago. It was new, like the warmth now in your chest.

“Oh-ho, look what we’ve walked into, Fred,” George called out from the end of the hallway.

“The two love birds are reuniting, George, we must not dare interrupt them,” Fred teased, the pair of them now approaching.

Ron had released his grip on you and glared at his brothers, his features showing his irritation, “Will you two bug off?” His freckled cheeks burned a deep crimson, leaving you questioning if it was out of embarrassment or that you two were caught in such close proximity. 

“Don’t be such a git, Fred, now that Angelina has broken up with you, again,” Ginny teased the twin as she approached you, pulling you into a tight hug.

“Harry and Hermione are in the other room,” Ron said and whisked you off after departing for Ginny. His fingers intertwined with yours as he he tugged you down the hallway with dull walls.

After reuniting with your friends and the meeting in the kitchen being adjourned, it was time for the group to either join for dinner, or depart. Your parents decided to depart shortly after the meeting and bidding you a sweet goodbye along with a few other members. However there was still quite a crowd that Molly had left to feed. 

Once dinner had concluded after much laughter and discussing the past summer and what this upcoming school year held, people began trickling away from the dinner table. This left just the Weasley family, Harry Sirius, Hermione, and yourself.

“Well, Ron, it is your turn for dish duty tonight,” Molly told her youngest son while levitating all the dishes towards the sink.

“I can help you if you’d like,” You looked to Ron who was sitting in front of him.

“(Y/N), dear, you don’t have to do that. You are a guest here. Ron will be able to handle it.”

“Well, she is welcome to join me by staying in the kitchen or help,” He smiled warmly at you and a new found warmth spread through your chest. Never had such a feeling come to fruition in you.

The rest of the group departed from the kitchen with only yourself and Ron remaining. Wordlessly, the two of you approached the sink. Ron began to wash the dishes, while you jumped up on to the counter next to him. As he cleaned them, you would dry them. It was a nice and soft moment, the pair of you making light conversation.

“It’s just all crazy to me, how much we’ve grown recently. I mean, this summer has felt like years when it’s really been only two months since I saw you last,” Ron handed you a plate as he complained.

“Well why are you complaining? You practically grown three summers worth in one,” you giggled and he lightly splashed the tap water on you. 

“Do I at least still have my boyish charm?” He stuck his tongue out at you as you squealed and upon settling, sent you a wink. You scrunched your nose in response, as you attempted to distract him away from the warmth that spread across your face, “I’m teasing, I’m teasing.”

All the dishes were soon washed, dried, and placed in there respective cabinets all without the use of magic, “You know it’s nice to have you around again,” Ron spoke, placing the final cup into the cupboard. He then strolled his way over to the counter where you sat, leaning his hip against it as he faced you.

“I love my family, but they don’t give me the same sense of home that you do...” By that time, Ron had managed to snake his way between your legs and then counter. His face was mere inches from yours and you create various constellations with the freckles on his face. The pair of you stayed their in each other’s warm presence, not wanting to leave the situation, yet wondering whether to take it further. 

The tension began to feel overwhelming as you began to get lost in whatever feeling was happening between the pair of you. So you tried to rationalize the situation like you always did and pulled him into a close hug. Your arms held tightly around his shoulders as you felt the same temptation to wrap your legs around his waist. He latched his arms around your waist with the same fever, “Would it be completely crazy that you feel like home to me?”

Soon the summer holiday melted away into another year at Hogwarts, except this year presented itself in stranger circumstances. At the end of term, you were to take your O.W.L.S and prepare for a career in the wizarding world. However, there was yet another new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor who was interesting to say the least. Hermione has whispered to you at dinner the first night that the Minister himself placed Dolores Umbridge at Hogwarts to spy on Dumbledore. 

And to make things stranger, Dumbledore was barely around the castle like in years before and Harry kept having strange dreams about He Who Shall Not Be Named. Umbridge also refused to teach her students magic through practice and so your quartet had taken it into your own hands to begin Dumbledore’s army. All through the fall term and now into the spring, your ragtag group had successfully practiced and avoided the toad discovering your whereabouts; moreover, your relationship with Ron had started to change since summer and it made you nervous. 

When you confided in Hermione after the events at Grimauld Place and her taking notice to both Ron’s and your body language, she tried her best to put it into words for you. “You have a crush on Ron, (Y/N)! And apparently he fancies you, as well.”

“But ‘Mione, I don’t know what to do. I’ve never really had a crush like this before. And I don’t want him to become a distraction with the O.W.L.S at the end of the year,” You tried to reason out things, and make everything seem more logical like you did with every other problem that had faced you before.

“This is one thing that can’t be control with logic and reason. That’s not how emotions are supposed to be felt,” she giggled as she squeezed your hand in hers. 

“I-I know, but I feel like a...a little pixie. constantly hanging around him and in the way of everything and-”

“(Y/N), I think that Ron prefers to have you around,” The bells chimed outside the castle, “I’ll see you at practice after class.”

“See you,” And with that, Hermione left for her final class of the day and you went about roaming the castle on your free period. 

You strolled around, admiring the ancient castle for all her walls had to offer where you now found yourself in the westwing. You were one of few students your year to be allowed to take a free period because of your academic standing and use that time for study or leisure. 

When you neared the hall where the Room of Requirement was, you placed yourself in a window sill to simply enjoy yourself. You pulled out one of the Herbology books you picked at the library and began reading as you relaxed. Yet the moment was short lived as you heard a voice call your last name.

“(Y/L/N), (Y/L/N)!” Draco Malfoy was strutting down the corridor towards where you were seated.

You jumped down from your ledge, giving him a curious look, “Is there something I can help you with Draco?”

“Why aren’t you in class, (Y/L/N)? You could loose points for Gryffindor for not being where you should be,” He snarled at you.

“It just so happens I have a free period to do what I please with myself, so if you will pardon me-” You snatched your bag, but before you could turn to leave Draco snatched your wrist into his hand.

“You’re a terrible liar,” He sneered, his face inching closer to yours.

“Malfoy,” Ron appeared behind you, his presence jarring Draco into letting you go. You backed yourself into Ron’s chest, allowing him to be your protector from the Slytherin boy. He ghosted his hand over your hips as if he were trying to pulling you further from Draco, “What seems to be the problem?”

“(Y/N) here seems to be skipping class, which is such a shame since she’s supposed to be such a bright little witch. I figure a detention with Umbridge should straighten her back up.”

“Excuse me,” you quipped to defend yourself and Draco glared daggers at you.

“See happens to have a free period mate, so just bugger off, mate,” Ron stepped in front of you to guard you from the predator that was in the form of Draco Malfoy, “Why don’t you go perform your prefect duties where there are actually students skipping classes or causing trouble?”

Draco’s eyes flickered between the pair of you, and you couldn’t tell which of you he disdained more in this moment, “Whatever, Weasley. I knew you were ever a filthy Pureblood, but I didn’t expect it from you, (Y/N). Both of you and your families are disgraces of Pureblood Wizards.” With his final blow, Malfoy stomped off in the opposite way to find his next prey.

Immediately, you let out the breathe you didn’t even realize you were holding, “Are you alright, (Y/N)?”

Ron now faced you, holding your arms with his large hands, as his eyes scanned for any outward physical or emotional distress Draco could have caused you. You knew that Ron wouldn’t hold himself back from throwing the first punch if he suspected Draco has hurt you.

“I’m quite alright, Ron. I’m just glad you found me when you did, before Draco could take me to her office,” you shuddered at the thought of Umbridge and what she had done to your peers.

His hand flew to your face as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. His blue eyes gazed deeply into yours, searching for some sort of answering that hid behind his eyes. “Ron-?”

Before you could continue speaking, Ron pressed his lips to yours and you responded just as quick. A strong feeling in your gut assured you that this is where you were supposed to be, in Ron’s arm, his lips connected with yours. Every emotion that every girl had talked about when being around a boy suddenly made sense, and felt more intense with Ron. After what felt like a lifetime, the pair of you pulled apart from each other. 

He offered you a half-smile as he appeared too love struck to form a coherent sentence, “I-I”, you pressed another kiss to his lips as if to bring him back into reality. After all this time, everything seemed right and perfect in this little moment in time. 

It didn’t matter that Umbridge kept sending out her wolves to discover your little army, or if it was only due time till Voldemort made an appearance. Ron was at your side and you were by his through anything that could possibly happen in this lifetime or any other. 

Once you pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours and giggled, “Is now a bad time to say that I quite fancy you?”

“You’re unbearable, Weasley,” You scrunched your nose and turned, beginning your walk to practice. When you didn’t hear him behind you, you turned to see his standing there with his mouth hanging open. You sighed and offered your hand out, “well, are you coming?”

The red head grinned as he took your hand, taking large strides as he giggled, absolutely over the moon that he had just kissed you and was now holding your hand. The pair of you, hand in hand, made your way to join your friends in the Room of Requirement, preparing for whatever came ahead of you.

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[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Fic: Frankie's Sweaty Balls

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Ship: Frankie Morales x Jay ‘Lady’ Ray (there's a series, go check it out in my masterlist, I may have to create a series masterlist soon!)

Warnings: Language, talk of face fucking, talk of breast cancer (no one actually has breast cancer, there's no cancer scare!).

Summary: Morning in the Morayles household isn't always fun and games.

a/n: The last week has been tough and I'm not really out of the woods yet. Writing is.. I can't even talk about that right now. But this came to me today and I had to jot it down. It's not a masterpiece and bitch there are probably fifteen spelling mistakes, but it made me smile. And I needed that.

The coffee is black and aromatic but it’s not doing much good to Jay’s foul morning temper. She glances out the window and notices that the forecast last night was accurate; dark clouds are covering the entire sky, ready to release rain. No gardening tonight, then. Fuck.

She sips the coffee and listlessly sticks the tablespoon into the yogurt in front of her. The bowl in front of her is filled with Greek yogurt, nuts, and seeds; her preferred breakfast, but this morning she’s not feeling it.

Frankie sits on the other side of the table, downing his coffee, gnawing on toast, and reading the morning paper. He also keeps an eye on little Alma, happily drooling oatmeal all over herself and the highchair Frankie’s carpenter dad made for her.

“Sweetie, could you try getting some of that breakfast into your mouth as well?” Jay sighs and directs Alma’s hand with the tiny spoon into the laughing mouth of the one-year-old. Alma spits it out and laughs even more and Jay, in no mood for parenting, turns to Frankie for help. He looks up from the paper and tuts at his messy daughter.

“Need some help to find your mouth, chiquita?” he smiles, trying hard not to just laugh as he gets some tissue and wipes Alma’s mouth before helping her to a spoonful of oatmeal. Alma obediently swallows it without drooling.

Jay presses a smile for her daughter and tells her what a good girl she is, then goes back to being moody. Frankie helps Alma finish breakfast, wipes her clean and gives her a toy to chew on while he finishes his own breakfast. He turns a page and reads, absent-mindedly stroking his bearded jawline.

“They got this breast cancer special here, baby,” he tells Jay. “246,660 new cases of breast cancer are expected every year, and about one in eight American women will develop breast cancer at some point of her life.”

“Charming, thanks for those numbers,” Jay mutters, not really wanting to hear breast cancer statistics. Her own breasts are tender as hell and she’s due for her period, which is the reason for her irritability this morning. It was much easier when she was in the army and didn’t have a period at all. After Alma, however, she’s like clockwork again for the first time in fifteen years, and she’s decidedly not enjoying it.

“Says here that the number of new cases has gone down a little these last few years,” Frankie reads on, “because of extensive campaigning about regular breast exams. Women are better at checking their tits, basically.”

“No wonder, given the yearly scare campaigns,” Jay points out and shoves a spoonful of yogurt into her mouth. It doesn’t taste well this morning.

“You know, I’m up for breast exams any day…” Frankie winks across the table, oblivious of her grumbling. Jay puts down the spoon and glares back at him.

“You know, that’s so typical!” she says acidly. “They not only scare and worry women with it so they spend half their lives being afraid of a disease they may not even get, but they also make it into a fun, sexy thing! Like, oh I don’t know, ask your partner to help you out, you’ll both enjoy that! Have your husband squeeze your tits for you. Either you have cancer, or you don’t, but at least he gets to feel you up! Not to mention how easily men can seem like the good guy, all they need to do it talk about breast cancer and tit exams! They’ve made breast cancer sexy, for fuck’s sake! And that’s not even mentioning pinkwashing!”

Frankie sighs deeply and gives Alma her sippy cup with milk.

“Jesus, Jay. No need to go all feminist on me. I was just trying to help. And don’t swear in front of the kid.”

“Yeah, well, why aren’t there any huge campaigns for testicular cancer, huh?” Jay goes on, now slipping into a rant. “I’ll tell you why: Because there’s no sex appeal in it! Who the hell wants to feel a couple of old wrinkly balls up, huh? You can always make money out of tits but it’s a lot harder with balls.”

“You’re welcome to examine my balls whenever you want and you know it,” Frankie replies with a good-natured grin. He seems determined not to get provoked this morning and it drives Jay insane.

“Besides,” he adds teasingly, “you know my balls aren’t old and wrinkly. I seem to remember you stuffing your mouth with them the other night.”

“Ugh, do we have to talk about your sweaty old balls at the fucking breakfast table?” Jay groans. “Have some fucking decorum! In front of Alma and all!”

“Look who’s talking. Besides, you brought it up.”

“Fu-fu?” Alma says, her voice wondering. “Fu-fu-fu.”

“Oh, there you go,” Frankie sighs, brows drawn together as he looks critically at the girl. “If my daughter’s first word is the f-word, I swear to God –“

“Ba-ba-ba-ba!” Alma smiles sunnily at her dad, who doesn’t know if he should laugh or cry.

“It would be even worse if it was balls,” Jay snorts and pushes away her cup of coffee and the remains of her yogurt before getting up.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” Frankie calls after her as she leaves the kitchen. Jay stops in the doorway and turns back at him, grimacing.

“Lost my appetite when I started thinking about your gross, sweaty balls,” she tells him sourly, but only gets a chuckle in return. Frankie quickly covers Alma’s ears with his hands before retorting.

“You’ll end this day with those balls slapping against your chin when I fuck your filthy mouth, and you’ll love it,” he tells her with a nasty grin before removing his hands from the sides of Alma’s head and ruffling her dark locks.

“Baba fufu!” Alma exclaims and laughs.

“Jesus Christ.” Jay shakes her head and leaves the kitchen to get dressed.

[peepeepotter]

New Girl Hogwarts AU Chapter 3: Ginny’s Visit

A/N: I don’t love this chapter, it’s more to show some of the pairings and get George and the reader closer. Also, this is based off of a New Girl episode. Most of this fic will be based off of the first two seasons. I’ll try to combine multiple episodes in the next chapter if you guys don’t mind it feeling a bit rushed? Otherwise I can write them out individually. 

Pairing: George Weasley x (Fem!)reader

Warning: Cursing, sexually suggestive? Idk we’re still PG-13 for now

Word Count: ~3.5k

Series Masterlist

“Hey can you come pick me up? I don’t think I’m sober enough to apparate right now.” Ginny asked immediately after Y/N picked up the phone.

“What about that guy you were seeing? The one that takes his shirt off too much, whatever his name is. Why can’t he take you home?” Y/N asked, getting out of bed and slipping shoes on quickly. She figured she might already know the answer.

“He’s an ASSHOLE that keeps flirting with other girls. I just caught him making out with some bitch in the club-”

“No other bitch, just you! You’re my bitch!”

“Viktor, that doesn’t mean what you think it means, you absolute blubbering idiot.” Y/N could hear the two of them arguing through the speaker of her slightly cracked iPhone 4. She rolled her eyes as she grabbed her keys for the loft.

“Where are you? I’m coming.”

“The Golden Snitch. That new one in diagon.” Y/N rolled her eyes. All of those lame ass quidditch lovers ended up at that club. She knew her best friend played professionally, but she couldn’t help but think about the fact that some of those quidditch players didn’t have a personality outside of the sport.

“I’ll be there in two shakes,” before Y/N could finish her old phrase, she was cut off by George entering her room and speaking.

“You bloody American, would you please stop using old farmer’s phrases?”

“Do you mind, like, knocking?” Y/N rolled her eyes as she turned his way.

“Oh you mean like how you totally DIDN’T a few weeks ago?”

“Oh my god, I DID knock, it’s not my fault you BLAST your music!”

“Will you two shut the fuck up and get a room?” Ginny interrupted the bickering.

“Actually we’re in a room, sister dear.”

“I don’t think that’s the quip you think it is.” Ginny laughed, definitely better at teasing her brother than a decade ago.

“Whatever, what the fuck do you want anyway?” George asked, getting closer to Y/N and her phone.

“See, this is why I NEVER call you for help,” Ginny grunted.

“I’m picking her up from the Golden Snitch and taking her home.” Y/N interrupted the argument just waiting to happen between the siblings.

“Actually, can I stay at your place? Viktor’s shit is at my place and I’d really rather not see him.”

“Yeah that’s fine,” Y/N said at the same time George spoke.

“Absolutely not.”

“George, give your sister a break. Can you please go make sure the couch is made up for her and that the guys aren’t naked when I’m back?” Y/N asked George.

“No promises,” George winked before exiting the room.

“God I swear I can HEAR the sexual tension between you two.” Ginny mumbled.

“Gross, Gin, that’s your brother you’re talking about. Anyway, I’ll be there in like three minutes.” Y/N hung up, and in the blink of an eye she was in diagon alley, walking quickly toward the club playing the Weird Sisters. It was a matter of minutes before Y/N found her way towards the DJ’s booth where Ginny was arguing with Viktor. She was about ready to hex him, or the DJ he had apparently made out with, when Y/N decided to intervene.

“Ginerva darling, I’m here, let’s go home.” Y/N grabbed Ginny’s hand, ready to drag her out of the club. As they walked away Y/N could hear Ginny whisper a hex, and the ensuing shriek from Viktor. Soon they made it to the apparition spot where Ginny side-alonged Y/N to just outside the loft door.

“Why do you guys have protection charms again? What year is this, 1886?”

“I literally live with the chosen one. I feel like that’s justification enough.” Y/N rolled her eyes, mumbling a few spells to disarm the hexes as she unlocked the door with her key. They stumbled into the loft, where, unsurprisingly, Draco stood in just his underwear, Harry without a shirt, George sat on the couch with a beer in hand, and Neville sat with a plant in his lap.

“GEORGE!” Y/N yelled over the argument Draco and Harry were having. He looked over at her and shrugged.

“What can you really do with these guys, ya know?” Y/N flipped him off before pulling the grown men apart.

“Get a room lovers.” Y/N rolled her eyes pushing them apart as she shooed George and Neville off the couch and started making a bed for Ginny.

“LOVERS? God, it’s like you don’t even know us.” Draco shouted, clearly fuming at Harry for...reasons unknown.

“Draco, babe, it’s called sarcasm.” Y/N said as she tucked a sheet around the couch cushions.

“Hey Gin,” Harry pulled her in for a side hug as Ginny turned pink. A childhood crush that never seemed to go anywhere still seemed to bother Ginny. Ginny returned the side hug, and then started taking off her shoes.

“I feel like you’re about half naked every time I see you.” Draco remarked to Ginny, who had a black minidress on, as he sat down on the side of the couch Y/N wasn’t making into a bed. Y/N smacked him.

“Awfully bold of you to say when you’re only in your knickers.” Ginny quipped, rolling her eyes.

“Potter, control your girlfriend.”

“PARDON?” Ginny yelled as Y/N hit his chest again.

“Malfoy, I will actually sectumsempra your ass again.” Harry said, coming up behind Draco to smack the side of his head.

“ANYWAY...you’re making me sleep on the couch?” Ginny asked, plopping down on the unfinished bed Y/N had been in the middle of making.

“Um, yeah, Gin. You steal the covers and we live in a loft. You could say it’s a bit,” Y/N giggled to herself before finishing the joke. “Lofty in here.”

“I hate it here.” Said Harry.

“Literally get out.” Unsurprisingly, from Draco.

“Oh, Merlin, yeah that was pretty bad Y/N.” Neville spoke gently.

“George, oh my god, are you laughing at that?” Ginny accused.

“What? No! Puns are the bane of my existence.” George said, clearly trying to stifle his giggles.

“Bad jokes aside, I hate this couch. It’s got a permanent dip in it from when George didn’t get up off of it for like, a week, when you showed him that one muggle show.” Ginny said

“Friends is so much more than a muggle show.” George hissed.

“George, every year without your far funnier twin your sense of humor gets significantly worse.” Draco said without looking up from his phone. George tensed as Y/N once again smacked Draco on the chest.

“You’re awfully moody tonight, yeah?” Y/N whispered angrily at Draco.

“Sorry, just shit going on at work.”

“You mean how your work wife is engaged?” “Shut the fuck-”

“You know you could just...tell her how you feel?” Y/N suggested as she plopped down in between George and Draco.

“He’s a man, he’ll never do that. I bet he’ll do something dramatic like sabotage the wedding instead.” At that, Draco looked up from his phone and over to Ginny with a grin.

“Maybe one of the Weasley’s are intelligent afterall.” Draco smirked.

“Don’t do that.” Y/N said, hoping that Draco wouldn’t ruin the only other friendship she had outside of the people in the loft.

“No promises. Anyway, I still have time to break them up.” Which made everyone in the loft groan.

“Can I complain about sleeping on the couch again? When is someone going to offer me their bed?” Ginny said, glaring Y/N down.

“You can sleep in my bed.” Harry said, sitting on the floor staring at his phone. Ginny turned pink.

“In my own house? Oh my,” George giggled, but stopped after Ginny glared at him. Harry looked up.

“We practically grew up together. It’s fine.” He shrugged, although Y/N noticed a hint of a blush in his cheeks as well. Y/N found herself smirking. “Yeah George, they’re grown ups. Grown ups can share a bed platonically.” She said, hinting at him to drop it. He smirked as well, nodding.

--

The next morning, Y/N arose to hear rushed whispers in the living room. She cracked her door, knowing that if she entered the conversation would likely stop.

“I’m IN!!”

“Dude, holding her hand is not ‘in.’”

“Whatever, you’re just mad because you’ve never held H-”

“Don’t finish that.” Draco warned.

Y/N tip-toed out to the kitchen where the two were chatting.

“You DO like her!! You big idiot!!” Y/N whispered, scaring Harry at the sudden appearance.

“How am I a big idiot? We shared a bed last night, I made a move!”

“That girl has had a crush on you since she was like ten! You call sharing a bed making a move? The right move to make would be, like, confessing your love for her or something.” Y/N sighed, moving over to the coffee pot of which only she used.

“Whatever, at least I can pick up on signals.” Harry mumbled.

“What is THAT supposed to mean?” Y/N said, turning around to face him quickly.

“Oh nothing, other than that George totally likes you.” Draco chipped in.

“He does not! Did he say that to you?” Y/N stopped, her heart dropping. Her stomach had a weird feeling she couldn’t quite place.

“No, but he doesn’t need to. It’s in the body language. Besides, puns really used to be the absolute bane of his existence. He and Fred were quite high and mighty with their senses of humor.” Harry shrugged.

“I’m sorry, do you call pranking high and mighty?”

“What about pranking?” George said, strolling into the room, his hair a mess and wearing the same clothes from yesterday.

“Nothing.” Draco, Harry, and Y/N unisoned.

“Good morning sunshine.” Y/N grinned as Ginny walked into the room looking an even bigger mess than George.

“Sleeping beauty.” Draco chimed.

“Shut the fuck up. You, don’t.” Ginny said, stopping Harry before he could join in the teasing.

“Well George, it must be nice to know the messy sleeping runs in the family.” Y/N said, gesturing to his hair.

“What? What are you talking about?” George furrowed his brow, reaching up to fix his hair and making it worse.

--

“Do you think my ass looks good in leggings?”

“Are you joking? Of course it does, I wish my ass looked like yours.” Y/N replied to Ginny. She sighed, thinking about what Harry and Draco said to her earlier. “Do you think George…” Y/N drifted off, deciding she didn’t really want to ask anymore.

“Has a crush on you? Absolutely.”

“See, what the fuck? I don’t see it.”

“That’s because you’re absolutely terrible at picking up signals. Remember that last time we went to the club and a guy kept buying you drinks and then you were SURPRISED when he asked you to dance with him?”

“That’s different. I don’t like dancing with strangers!” “Sure, but you were surprised, Y/N.” Ginny gave Y/N a pointed look, to which Y/N sighed.

“Anyway, no one will ever known, because George doesn’t share his feelings with anyone ever.”

“Just try and pick up on his body language. You know, if he points his feet to you or whatever.” Ginny said, staring at her phone with a furrowed brow. “Thank God, Viktor is moving his shit out of my place as we speak. I might be out of here by tomorrow.” Ginny turned and grinned at Y/N. 

“Hey,” George said, once again walking right into Y/N’s room and plopping down on her bed.

“Seriously, do we just not knock here anymore?”

“Well, we’ve seen each other naked, so honestly what’s the point?” George offered, to which Y/N rolled her eyes.

“I’m sorry, what? What did I miss?” Ginny said, tossing her phone onto the bed next to George.

“One time-”

“No, it’s not important, it wasn’t in a sexual way, it’s loft shit. We don’t talk about loft shit to outsiders.” Y/N said, not wanting to recount the story.

“Outsiders? I’m your best friend!”

“Well, you don’t live here.” George shrugged.

“I’m literally your sister!”

“I’m sorry, what does that have to do with the loft? You still don’t live here.” George smirked at her. She screamed and stormed out of Y/N’s room. “Anyway, want to go to the market with me? I need a few things and I’m quite tired of going on my own.” He perched himself up on his elbows to look at Y/N and something about the position he was in on her bed made her feel...some type of way.

“I-- I don't need anything, though.” Y/N said, now wanting to avoid George.

“Can you go and pick me up some tampons? I think you’re out.” Ginny poked her head back into the room, smirking at Y/N.

“You bitch.” Y/N mouthed at Ginny. “Yeah. Okay, I’ll go with.” Y/N announced, looking quickly over at George.

--

Ginny walked around the loft with just her bra and leggings on, as she would in her own apartment.

“Merlin, woman, put some clothes on.” Neville said, covering his eyes with one hand from the couch, covering a leaf on his plant with his other hand.

“Or don’t, I’m starting to appreciate the divine femme energy you’ve got going on.” Draco smirked, practically staring right at Ginny’s boobs.

“Malfoy, I swear to-”

“What, Potter? Don’t like me hitting on your girlfriend?”

“If you don’t shut up, I’ll kiss you.”

“You’ll wha-” before Draco could finish his question, Harry grabbed the back of Draco’s head and left a wet kissed on his lips.”You know, I could’ve gone my whole life without doing that.” Draco mumbled, rubbing his lips on his arm. Ginny stared at the three men in the apartment, rather confused.

“I’m confused,” Ginny said.

“Why?” Harry said, looking over at her.

“Are you guys actually gay?” Ginny whispered, as if it was offensive to ask.

“No, it’s just loft shit. You wouldn’t get it.” Harry shrugged.

“Yeah you wouldn’t get it.” Draco grinned at her. Ginny, in confusion, looked to Neville for an explanation.

“No offense Ginny, but you wouldn’t. It’s just kind of weird here.” Neville shrugged at her.

--

Y/N found herself staring at George’s feet the entire time they were shopping for groceries. He did point his feet at her a lot. But did that actually mean anything?

“Hey, I asked you a question! Where are you today?” George furrowed his brow, waving a hand in front of Y/N’s face.

“Sorry, what?” She kept glancing between George’s face and his feet. She moved around, and his feet would follow her as he continued to face her no matter where she moved.

“You’re acting weird. Anyway didn’t Ginny need something?”

“Oh yeah, I’ll just go get the tampons. I’ll find you later.” Y/N sighed in relief as she was able to quickly get away from George. Why was she so uncomfortable suddenly? She couldn’t decide how she would feel if George did have feelings for her. Her stomach had a weird feeling again. She hadn’t really ever felt this way. She was warm.

“Oh my god.” She said, staring at the tampon boxes. “Am I blushing?” She raised her hands to her face, feeling how warm her cheeks were. “Oh my god.” She whispered to herself. She grabbed a random box from in front of her and stormed off to where George was. She tossed the box angrily into the basket.

“Woah, sassy pants. What’s got your knickers in a twist?” George asked.

“Nothing.” She furrowed his brow at him. “They were just out of the brand I usually get.” She felt herself staring him down. He looked down at the basket to escape her pointed look.

“Super max?”

“I have wide set hips.”

“I believe they call those birthing hips.”

“Who is ‘they?’”

“I don’t know. It was a joke.”

“I know, I’m pointing out the flaw in your joke.”

“Ouch?”

--

“Can one of you make me a sandwich?” Ginny was staring at her phone, now wearing spandex shorts with her bra. It was like the boys had turned on the heat so she would strip (which they had, but she didn’t need to know that). 

“On it.” Draco said, quickly stopping what he was doing (drooling over her legs) as he rushed off to the kitchen.

“No, you know I’m a better cook than you.” Harry rushed off after Draco. Ginny giggled to herself. She liked having men chasing after her, and thought this game was kind of fun. It was like a game of who needed to get laid more.

“You know, what you’re doing isn’t very nice, Gin.”

“Neville, when did anyone ever use the word ‘nice’ to describe me?”

--

“Flowers for sale! Two for one dollar!”

“Oh that’s so cute, here, do you want a flower?” George offered, not waiting for an answer from Y/N as she crossed her arms and started shaking her legs as she did when she was uncomfortable. She started to spiral when he handed her the roses. She stared at them, wondering what they meant.

“You didn’t need to do that.”

“I know, but I like to support small businesses.” He shrugged, his feet weren’t pointed towards hers anymore. Maybe he didn’t like her like that. Maybe she was overthinking this.

“Oh, good point, I guess.” He giggled and pointed his toe.

“Good POINTE, right?”

“I--what?”

“You’re a dancer, right? I’m on pointe.” He giggled, continuing to walk towards the apartment. Y/N felt uncomfortable again. She mentioned it once in passing that she did ballet as a kid. Her stomach hurt again. She felt tears start to well in her eyes.

“I-I...I’ve gotta go!” She said suddenly, running off in the opposite direction of their apartment. George furrowed his brow, confused at Y/N’s odd behavior.

--

“Ginny,” Y/N burst into the door, out of breath. She had clearly been running. “I’m confused.” She looked up and became more confused when she saw Ginny was getting pampered by Draco and Harry. “I...what did I miss?”

“There you are! I looked for you everywhere! You can’t just run off like that, what are you, insane?” George stormed into the apartment. He noticed dried tear trails on Y/N’s face and dropped what he was saying. He looked towards Ginny and the guys and furrowed his brow. “What the fuck, guys?”

“How did this happen?” Y/N asked, gesturing to Draco who seemed to be giving Ginny a facial as Harry rubbed her feet.

“I don’t really remember.” Harry sighed.

“Ginny, get up.” Y/N was ready to lecture her. Ginny sighed and stood up.

“Thanks mum and dad, you two really have to ruin everything.” She sassed. George and Y/N looked at each other with wide eyes. George smirked suddenly.

“Ginny, don’t I recall hearing that Viktor is moving out? Why don’t you give him a call and see if he’s done.” George grinned, trying to expedite the process of getting Ginny out of the loft. Y/N giggled, looking at George’s side profile. He looked back over and nodded his head back towards his room. Or maybe her room, she couldn’t tell, their rooms too close together.

She followed him into his bedroom. He sat down on the bed as she closed the door and stood right by it.

“You were a bit weird today.”

“The guys and Gin were messing with me and...I don’t know. I had my knickers in a twist.”

“Oh finally, a british phrase. There we go, America.” He smiled at her. She offered a half smile. “I’d like to think that I’m your best friend next to Ginny, so you don’t have to be so weird around me.” Y/N’s heart sank. Best friends, that’s what they were.

“Yeah, you’re right. I was just surprised when you mentioned the dance thing, I guess. I’m not used to anyone other than Ginny remembering things about me.”

“Yikes, you must have awfully bad taste in men, and friends.” George pointed his head towards the direction of their living room, laughing.

“Yeah, you could say that.” She rolled her eyes, laughing, too. “I’m glad I have you. I guess. Don’t let that get to your head.”

“I would never.” George smiled.

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[angrylittletrashpanda]

I’ll teach you a lesson you will never forget (pt.1)

ao3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/38947176/chapters/97405050 

Summary: Jude x the Ghost crack fic, set during TWK. In this AU Locke commanded the Ghost to seduce Jude.

Baby Duarte has apparently taken her new code name too much to her heart. Garrett finds the mortal, chucking her way about the Court of Shadows pretty annoying and does not understand why Liliver and Van accepted the reign of the bossy girl, commanding them as if was she actually a queen  of spies so easily. It is quite impossible to ignore Jude's ambition, so typical for the young, her capacity to lie as well as the girl's lively, resourceful intelligence, which obviously does not change the fact that the giddy, hot-headed mortal, who really has the makings of a fine spy, should focus on schooling rather than bossing around.

Jude still commits numerous mistakes. For instance, she should have checked whether the new king's private chambers were actually safe as soon as Prince Cardan was crowned. Garrett didn't even try to point this little yet extremely important detail out - if he advised her to do so, Lady the Seneschal would  consider his remark as a gross personal insult, throw a tantrum and ignore his gesture of goodwill. Under normal circumstances Jude would be still an apprentice, gradually learning about the secrets on espionage, presumably also from her own mistakes… And yet the girl, unexpectedly raised up to power became an unnerving little tyrant who can't bear even the most justified criticism. It's a pity indeed, since she has always been a very apt student, even if Garrett never felt like complementing her more often than necessary. He also has to admit Baby Duarte is talented and resolute - she must know it very well and there is no point in repeating it time and time again. Just two or three weeks ago Jude used to attach great importance to her fellow spies' advice, but if someone dared to pick her up for something extremely foolish now, even in the most gentle way, the mortal would roll her eyes and announce that she is busy with learning how to be a good Seneschal rather than a prefect spy.

Oddly enough Liliver and Van have accepted this state of affairs - turns out they truly admire the mortal for her cleverness and speed of decision making. After all she managed to trick Prince Cardan into some ambiguous bargain the details of which they do not even know. All right, the young monarch is in her power, but you don't even have to be a particularly good observer to spot His Majesty is constantly making eyes to Baby Duarte. Well, some find striking ugliness fascinating, so who can possibly forbid the High King of fairies to pine for a plump, scruffy mortal?

And now... Garret has to pitch a woo to this moose, whose tousled hair and bitten fingernails disgust him beyond measure. He cannot bear a thought of touching Jude, who reeks of poison and sweat. Not that the girl is totally deprived of any allure - in the times of his youth such subtle, angelic faces, as well as eyes like hers, thick-lashed and gentle like eyes of a young doe were highly appreciated. Baby Duarte's determination and wit surely add to her charm. Fortunately she is not coquettish at all, what makes Jude pretty amiable, but unfortunately she is sloppy, moody and searches praise in everything she does. With the eyes of his imagination Garrett almost see how the  mortal, sprawled on her back opens her short chubby legs up just like a huge frog and asks whether she is good enough to please him. Not a very pretty sight, really.

Some of her ideas, however, are quite reasonable yet it is just the execution that's lacking. For instance yesterday she decided to turn the deserted Hollow Hall over.

Yes, the imprisoned Prince Balekin surely has not only his henchmen, but also secrets aplenty hidden in his grandiose manor, so Garrett suggested he would head to this very mansion and tear it apart. For some reason Jude insisted on going there herself, but she agreed he accompanied her. "After all two heads are better than one," -the girl said with a smile. Yes, indeed. I's just a pity her own is so empty. Of course their pathetic foray has turned out to be the next opportunity for Jude to show how 'smart' she is. Garrett glances doubtfully at the mortal, lumpishly stepping on the wooden beams under the ceiling of the ball room. Of course she slips down, not focused enough on her task. Baby Duarte sucks her breath, but she does not give up - the girl just bits her lower lip and starts to crawl clumsily, sticking up her big, fat ass. So horrid. So grotesque. And now the Ghost has to walk beneath her way, his gaze fixed on Jude, in order to insure her. Not that he particularly enjoys staring at Baby Duarte's ass, does he?

"No secret corridors and stuff like that!" - she announces, loudly enough to awaken the dead.

"Well, get down here" - he answers quickly. The girl moves faster. "Hey, mind how you go!" - Garrett warns her, but Jude of course does not listen. After all he is just a century older than her. If the Seneschal falls, she will definitely break her bones. Well, maybe that's a lesson Baby Duarte will never forget? The mortal tries to leap down, as you might guess with the grace of an elk-cow. She is going to break her legs, sure as there's carts to horses. The Ghost sighs and extends his arms, trying to protect her fall. Quite successfully, as it turns out. To his surprise Baby Duarte hasn't rattled his bones with the weight of her fat ass. The girl, clinging to him is soft, soft on a high note, although her fingers are digging into his shoulder blades hard enough to cause pain. Jude's big breasts, pressed against his chest render to be very pert and mellow. Her eyes, seen at close quarters, have a deep color of honeydew honey. There is something disturbingly innocent in the girl's gaze, although she has at least one murder on her hands.

"Having a little scare will be really good for you, but watch out, or at least try to!" -the Ghost says, tightening his grip.

"I am not scared at all!" - Jude protests, although her accelerated heartbeat proves something completely different.

"Liar!" -he teases the girl, not letting her go, and oddly enough she even does not try to pull away. Garrett slides his hands down her back, more and more astonished. The thickness mortal's body is bewildering him more and more. It cannot be denied her hips are wider than the female faeries', not to mention this soft, agreeable weight of her full well-knit bosom.  Turns out he was wrong thinking Jude is stout and heavy. If his hands were just slightly bigger, he would be able to close them around the small of her waist. Jude's wavy, unruly hair has a shine of polished bronze. Well, maybe today he would finally manage to carry out Locke's order.

Ballads and poems claim children are pure, innocent, defenseless and incapable of anything wrong. Admittedly no one but Grand General Madoc genuinely believes in such nonsense. Garrett neither had much to do with young ones, nor cared about them. He knows, however, that life of an orphan is particularly difficult, especially in Elfhame. After his father's death Garrett's mother had returned to the Seelie Court, where she used to be a lady-in-waiting, leaving her boy alone. Many years later the Ghost, absorbed with his spy work, never had time to think twice about this youthful, cold-blooded fairy woman, who couldn't stand looking at her son because merely the sigh of Garrett's face had made her heart twitch, reminding the lady of her deceased lover.  There again, back in his childhood, the half fairy was in for either danger or pain.

He was neither proud nor woeful about poisoning Liriope, considering this murder as job like any other. The Ghost already had blood on his hands and killing one more debauched courtier should not have affected him... And yet he was wrong. Twelve-years-old Locke was concededly in far better situation than Garrett had been when his mother had left him – as Liriope's only child inherited his parents' estate and fortune, but taking the courtier's life, as well as killing her unborn baby, still bothered Garrett. Driven by remorse, the spy headed to Liriope's manor, where he found the boy playing in the maze and gave Locke his true name and offered protection.

Since then, Liriope's son has used the Ghost's true name just for his tricks, more or less cruel. It seemed almost useless so far - after all it was quite easy to make Nicasia cry even without using any kind of magic. Well, Garrett couldn't know that in his thoughts Madoc always calls Locke 'this little mischief-maker' or even ‘this little motherfucker’, hence the redcap truly hates the boy for taking his precious daughter’s virginity.

The Ghost didn't mind the boy's whims. All the petty dramas came out of spying on the noble fairy children, ridiculously long-tongued and imprudent, actually brought no real harm. Garrett guessed that Locke might want to play a trick on the High King, but he was pretty sure it would mean finding out and revealing some of Cardan's embarrassing secrets rather than stealing the girl he desires. After all Jude is so desperate to impress anyone that he wouldn't be surprised if a good half of the High Court has already tasted her. But now, looking down into those pure, nutbrown eyes Garrett starts to doubt his judgement about the Grand General's ward. Concededly her sweet, girlish face could be as mendacious as her human tongue. Garrett sighs and gingerly brushes the soft crook of Jude’s neck, peeking through her ridiculously shaped collar adorned with not much less ridiculous, greenish trim. Surprisingly the mortal’s skin is more delicate than any woman’s he know. The girl, visibly pleased with an unexpected caress, utters a satisfied moan and tilts her head back, baring her throat. Garrett’s fingers meet rough thread with dried rowan berries beaded on it. Without much thought the half-faerie pulls on it, tearing the necklace off.

“Jude Duarte, you are an idiot,” – he hisses, tightening his grip on her. “What have I always told you? Keep your eyes peeled, never let yourself be off your guard and don’t trust anyone. Mark my words, baby, unless you want to get into hot water,” – Garrett breathes, vainly seeking fear in dark eyes, staring back at him. “Do you have any idea how dangerous it is for a little human who lives among the faeries to wear no charms? I bet you simply forgot to put on any more but this pathetic rowan berry necklace, didn’t you?” Jude just purses her plump lips and says nothing. “Well, your silence is a confirmation enough. Do you realize that with a single command I can force you to commit truly heinous acts or even take your own life?” – he purrs, pulling the girl tighter to him. Baby Duarte gnashes her teeth and tries to stand back – to no avail, as it turns out. “You see? I don’t even need magic to make you do weird things against your will. And trust me, it may be much, much worse. Do you even guess how it feels to be a mere toy in the hands of a callous and unprincipled  puppet master? Of course you don’t, Jude,” – he snarls. “After all you are almost a child, incapable of recognizing the real evil, even if it came straight to you,” – Garrett whispers. Baby Duarte tilts her head up and looks into his eyes.

“Yes, I actually felt relieved and honored to have a questionable distinction of serving Prince Dain. In my eyes he used to be an incarnation of chivalric virtues as well as political sagacity. Yes, I used to cherish illusion his accession would be the beginning of a golden era of the Isles of Elysium. Yes, I was  - and still am – young, inexperienced and kind of naïve. But then, how would you call the ones who remained by Dain’s side even though they knew his true colors, his wicked artifice and countless crimes? The ones who had so great hopes for him that and tight their future to him so tightly that after his death they did not really know what to do with themselves? Call me gullible and inexperienced, but with all certainty, you won’t accuse me of fatuousness and insaneness. The night he was murdered I managed to keep my cool and came across with a better plan than giving up my hopes for a better future. Confused as I was, I had the gall to steal Balekin’s crown and   thwart my father’s plot,” – the girl exclaims ardently. Garrett bits his lower lip, hardly keeping himself from laughing. It flashes his mind that Jude’s vivid reactions and hot temper are truly disarming… Just like her sparkling eyes and glowing cheeks.

“You are a very cunning little seneschal indeed,” -he admits reluctantly, loosening his grip enough to let Baby Duarte make a step back, then draws near. The girl moves backward – just like he has expected. “And yet, you ignore the most sensible pieces of advice so stubbornly, as if you were but a bratty child, who always knows better just because they are already seventeen. You and I both know things can't go on like this, Jude. Today I am going to teach you a lesson you will never forget,” – Garrett rasps, as the girl’s back hits the marble wall.

“Oh baby, what did I say about keeping your eyes peeled?” – he croons, and slightly pulls away, giving the mortal a chance to push him away… But Baby Duarte just clicks her tongue and audaciously tilts her head up.

“Yes, yes, you are right, you couldn’t be more right,” – she admits, reaching up on her tippy-toes. “It is known that I am a notoriously bad student and deserve the most severe of punishments.”

Garrett glances at Baby Duarte’s little heart-shaped face with mixed amusement and  interest.  No, he has never seen her like that – playful, good-humored and … visibly at ease. Such an agreeable  change, really.

“It is the only hope to teach me anything, isn’t it?” – she teases. “Fess up, you want to do it for quite a while, don’t you?” Garrett looks down into Jude’s laughing eyes.

“You must be very brave or very stupid,” – he snorts, pushing the girl harder against the wall.

“Well, maybe I am both,” – Baby Duarte sighs, looking at him as if he was a particularly dumb child. It’s been  all a bit much for him.

“But most of all, you are walking on a very thin ice,” – he hisses, peremptorily cupping Jude’s face. The girl gives him a quizzical glance. “Tell it to the hand, I’ve heard this like for a hundred times,” – she giggles. “I thought you'd be more creative than this, really. In spite of your youthful looks you are no longer…” – she does not finish the sentence, as Garrett presses his mouth against hers.

The mortal blinks her eyes in sheer astonishment. No one before has ever kissed her that hard.  The half-faerie’s beautifully shaped lips turn out to be unapologetic, decidedly cruel, as if willing to subdue her. Jude gets a white-knuckle grip on his shoulders, she clings to the Ghost, as if he was the one steady thing in this insane, spinning world. She wants to  give in to his rough caress, lose herself in the bruising kiss, and at the same time she does not. Their tongues  fight, their teeth clash as they are trading vehement, frantic, frenzied kisses. Jude’s breasts, painfully taut are swell like a raging sea, as though the girl was struggling for a breath. The ghost’s lissome fingers tangle in her unruly locks, pulling on them hard enough to make her utter a muffled moan of mixed pain and pleasure.  Thin fabric of her silk shirt – Oriana’s last gift to her - seems too rough, to coarse…  The half-faerie  holds her in a firm grip, kissing her fiercely, thoroughly, like there was no tomorrow. Jude blinks her eyes and snuggles up in his arms, her thigh brushes against his length...  At this exact moment Jude Duarte, brave Lady the Seneschal, the Kingmaker and a brilliant strategist blushes then slightly pulls away, embarrassed to feel her lover’s arousal.  Her back hits the cold wall again. The Ghost glances at her flushes face, pure mischief in his eyes, and yet his  fingers gingerly trace her cheeks, wander down her neck now, they skim along her shoulders. Garrett's kisses become softer, more deliberate, more thoughtful, vaguely soothing.  How could it be that a ruthless assassin, Dain’s right-hand man as well as her little brothers would-be murderer has such gentle, warm-colored eyes? Kiss me until I’m sick of it… Has she just found a cure for Cardan?

Garrett is truly surprised when Baby Duarte’s courage comes back to her. Jude shakes off her jacket and draws closer again, her little hands grab his hair,  her mouth latch his lower lip, the girl begins gingerly sucking on it. It strikes him how innocent her kisses really are. Funnily enough Jude appears so endearingly oblivious to the fact that her touch can easily drive a man to despair. The half-faerie closes his eyes then grips her pert ass, completely taken aback with a jolt of pain when Baby Duarte’s sharp teeth sink into his lip. The girl breaks their kiss, chuckles and gives him a  triumphant glance.

“Haven’t I told you I am a notoriously bad student?” – Jude purrs, playfully tugging on his collar.

“Well, well what else’s new?” – Garrett exclaims theatrically, keeping his eyes fixed on her sinfully innocent, soft lips, swollen with kisses and reddened with blood. “I haven’t given your silly words a second thought to be frank… Especially when I am dying to know what else your witty little mouth can do,” -he smirks, expecting Baby Duarte to blush and demurely lower her gaze, as befits a chaste little daughter of the noble Grand General. Nothing further from the truth! Jude just licks her lower lip, and gives him an impish smile.

“Pretty funny coincidence, don't you think?” – she asks, peering at him from under her thick eyelashes. “It just so happens I was wondering what else that wicked tongue of yours is capable of.”

[dancingthesambaa]

The Smell of Plum Blossom Tea Ch 6

Summary: Just like a butterfly wing, a single act of kindness can change the course of the future, it certainly did for MK as a black-furred monkey put out a hand towards him.

Rating: Teen and up

Chapter 6: And So It Begins

“I’m back,” MK tiredly said as he dragged his form out of the blazing sun and into the cool restaurant, “orders delivered, traffic long and people angry, but food is delivered.”

“Great, but you still have another delivery,” Pigsy replied as his back was turned.

“Just one,” he grinned, “compared to the other ten this will be a piece-,”

He slammed down 30 orders down in front of him on the already bustling counter.

“Of cake,” he deflated as he saw the monumental amount of food. “What the-Are we feeding an entire town?!”

“Close. Party, though I should have charged their ungrateful asses extra for the rush order,” he growled out, “who gives an hour warning Huh?!”

“Apparently them,” he groaned as he picked up and carried the whole load into the car.

“And when you get back, there are a dozen more orders to take care of,” Pigsy called out.

“Got it bossman,” he yelled out, then he slammed the door closed and he sat up straight with a grin, “alright this won’t be so bad.”

“BEEF? BEEF?!! I WANTED MISO! GET IT RIGHT YOU STUPID DRIVER! The voice yelled out at MK as the two stood at the doorway.

“I’m sorry but-,” he winced as he was cut off by the rude woman screech.

“You better be sorry! I could have your job for this big of a screw up! You are nothing!”

“Technically I just delivered your food,” he whispered to himself.

“What did you just say?”

“Nothing!” He put on his best service smile, “I’m very sorry about this, how about I take your food back so that I can-.”

Splat

MK watched as the woman threw down her food in a fit of rage.

“There’s your damn food, now pick it up and get me a new one,” she spat out.

MK looked down at the pile of food that Pigsy put his sweat and blood into slowly dripping off the stone stairs. He took a deep breath as he put his hand in his pocket to subtly squeeze the stress ball and looked at the woman.

“I’m not cleaning that up,” he deadpans and walks back to the car.

“What?!”

“Also,” he rolled down his window when he got in the car, “if you would like to order for a party, next time call ahead of time.” He then quickly drove off until he could no longer hear the yells of the angry woman.

He rode until he reached the grocery store, parked at the edges of the lot where there were barely any cars, unbuckled his seat belt, and laid his head on top of the wheel.

“I. Hate. People. Sometimes.” He lightly banged his head with each word then he leaned back and took out the ball and squeezed it a few times. “I really do.”

He likes to think of himself as a pretty optimistic person, after having his whole life turned around and learning things can get better, he likes to think that the world can be good. But days like these, people like those, make him really put that side of him to the test and today he very much failed that. He should be glad that he didn’t go off on her, like what Pigsy did when some dude tried to scam him or Mei when she is feeling very competitive over some a-holes, but at the same time that sounds amazing.

He squeezed the ball a little tighter.

“I really want to see Dad right now,” he muttered to himself. It would be so easy, just one yell to him and he would be over in less than a second. “I really want him right now…but I made a promise to myself that I would do this without him.”

So he took a deep breath, lifted his head, put on his music, put away his rainbow stress ball, and slowly began his drive back to Pigsy restaurant.

It was during that drive back that he got a call, “Hello?”

“Hey MK, it’s me,” he stopped as he heard Pigsy's voice, he had a feeling he knows what this is about.

“Heyyy Pigsy, I’m almost at the store,” he tried and failed, to sound casual.

“I just got off a call with a very rude customer who said that you threw down her food when she was being oh so kind,” he bluntly said, “even mentioned about assaulting her.”

“That is so not how any of that went down!” He immediately said, “she yelled at me for saying that I made her food wrong and I told her that it can be redone, but she decided to instead throw down all of that food herself and told me to clean it up! Who does that?! And all of this was after she put her hand all through that food, which is so gross by the way, I mean other people are eating that, cause I know she ain’t-,” he was cut off by Pigsy chuckles.

“You don’t need to explain anything, I know you for far too long to even think that you would put too much salt in someone's food let alone throwing it down on the ground.”

“Oh,” he calmed down as he released the tension from the wheel, “that’s good.”

“Yeah, I told it to her straight just exactly how I felt about her being an utter ass to not only myself but my employees. Let’s just say that she was not happy about that and threaten to sue,” he could almost hear him shrug.

“What no!” He tried to stand up, only to realize he was still in the car and he was still buckled up. “I am so sorry!”

“Don’t be, cause jokes on her the world we live in has become pretty up to date with security and, more importantly, security cameras,” he said with a grin, “I don’t think she’s gonna get a single cent when everything that went down was all on video.”

MK let a smile spread across his face, bless technology and all its glory. “That’s good.”

“It sure is. Do you want to take a breather when you come back? I know that woman was more than a handful that what you're used to,” he asked in concern.

“Nope,” he cheerfully said, “I am A-Ok! Just get those next orders ready for me so I can deliver!”

“Well if you're certain, get your ass back here on the double,” he said, but the teenager could tell it was more playful, “we got orders waiting to be delivered.”

“On my way!” He saluted to no one and hung up. “Alright! Let’s get a move on!”

‘Make sure to add the cohesive before the mixing,’ the voice silently thought to himself.

“It would be so easy just to make that jump, hell my youngest kit sister can make that and she’s not even a month old,” a voice bragged.

‘Combine the Feins roots with the Elia petals first to dilute the solution.’

“All I’m saying is that if you try to jump off the cliff of perils then I sure as hell am not catching you,” another voice deadpanned.

“Nahhh I would be fine.”

‘…dice the Oran berries and Pecha then add when the next stage is ready.’

“If you count being splattered into tiny little pieces fine, then, by all means, go ahead,” another voice sighed.

‘Make sure that the color is a deep orange hue and not dark yellow, that can-,’

“Ye o little faith.”

“No, you are of little sanity. Even my younger gremlins know better,” she shot back.

‘That can easily violate the substance,’

“But they don’t have the certain skills like I do,” they bragged.

‘…leading to a-,’

“It still wouldn’t be a wise thing to do,” a deep voice pointed out.

‘Leads to a-,’ his vial cracked in his hands as he was once again interrupted.

“No, but it would be fun-.”

“I swear,” everyone turned to face the irritated monkey, “to all things good in this world and the next, if you dumbasses don’t shut the fuck up in the next five seconds I will make the Piñata fiasco at the Boiling Isles look like a god damn nap compared to what I’m gonna do to you.”

“Sorry, were we disturbing you,” Yanyu cheekily said.

“You little-”

“Awwww I’m soo sorry,” Daiyu mocked.

“I swear-”

“We didn’t mean to interrupt your monologue,” Minsheng smirked, “you know it kinda reminds me of Flicker when you do that.”

“That’s it!” He slammed down his ingredients, opened his drawers, and took out a roll of duct tape, “come here you little bastards!” He yelled out as he began to chase down the three annoyances.

“Same as usual,” Bohai sighed as he drank his tea.

“One would think not to mess with Mac when he’s like this,” Ahmed commented.

“Especially when he’s in his mood.”

“Especially that.”

“Now shut it,” he proudly said as he sat on top of his third victim.

“Hey hey!” Daiyu struggled to break free, “we were trying to lighten your mood fuzzball.”

“By annoying the shit out of me,” he growled as he taped her beak shut. “Fat chance, anyone else,” he looks over to his other two remaking friends.

“I say nothing,” the jellyfish put his tentacles up in surrender.

“While they may have been a bit well-,”

“Fucking annoying,” the monkey bluntly said.

“Yes that, they did have a purpose to their madness,” the lion pointed out.

“What? What could they possibly want badly enough to annoy the absolute fuck out of me?!”

“You have empty bird nest syndrome.”

“…what?”

“I said-”

“I heard you the first time!” Macaque interrupted, “I do not have that! I am use to MK not being home day to day, so why the hell would you thi-,”

“For days,” Yanyu said once she ripped the tape off her mouth, “but not for longer than a week.”

“Same difference!”

“Nah pal it ain’t,” the bunny demon said as they chewed on their own tape, “I can see it as bright as day, you have been extra moody and hella sad these past couple of days. It’s just like mum, whenever one decides to leave the warren, she gets all glum and broody for days.”

“I am not broody!” His tail swished violently.

“But you do miss him,” Ahmed stated.

“I don’t-”

“And it’s okay if you do.”

“I don’t miss him, I can visit anytime,” he stated.

“You still miss him being there, being next to you,” the lone human gave his ponytail a playful tug and sat next to Mac, who was still sitting on top of the tied-up vulture. “Take it from a big sister, when Shu moved out to live in the dorms I was so happy for him, but as time went on I noticed that I didn’t hear his off pitch singing in the afternoon nor did I hear his voice amongst my gremlins over who gets the last brownie. I didn’t miss him, hell I could video chat with him anytime, but I missed his presence, you know.”

Macaque just gave her a hard look before sighing, “He used to hum to himself whenever he was bored,” he admitted as he got off his friend and slumped down next to her.

Yanyu just patted his shoulder as he continued.

“I know I can just visit him, but my kid is growing up, he’s learning to stand on his own and he should have his own life separate from me.”

“Yeah imma stop you there,” Sheng rolled his eyes, “you are being one over dramatic monkey right now if you think that just because he’s doing his own thing, doesn’t mean that he doesn't have time for you. Hell, you are the one demon he will always have time for no matter what.”

“But-”

“Ain’t no buts about it fuzzbrain,” Daiyu squawked out once she feared the tape off, “your hatching adores the shit out of you and if you don’t think he won’t spend time with you then you are dead wrong.”

“He should have that time to himself, he is just starting out all on his own…without me…,” he slumped in depression, but quickly shot up due to a shocking touch, “OW! FUCKING WHY BOHAI!”

“You're being an idiot,” he smugly said as he lowered his tendril.

“Thanks,” Yanyu nodded to him, “and he’s right. I know that this whole thing won’t end with this so here’s what we’re gonna do. The six of us are going to go to Qián city.”

“…why the fuck are we going to the underwater city of Shanghai?” He incredulously looked at her.

“Cause you seriously need to relax.”

“I don’t-”

“You spent most of your time in the garden or prepping medicine that you don’t need,” Ahmed calmly said as he cleaned up the mess that Mac made.

“…you may have a point, but I don’t really feel like I should leave, what if MK or Mei happens to call?” He said.

“Well one, I know damn well that your hearing exceeds that city's borders,” Sheng points out.

“Okay true.”

“And second, we have the beauty of phones, which allows people to fall from far away,” Yanyu slowly told him as if he was a child, “I taught you this in one of our first lessons.”

“Don’t patronize me,” he muttered, “but I don’t-”

“You either go willingly or Kit Kat over here is going to drag you,” she pointed to Ahmed.

“He wouldn’t-”

“I really would,” he had to stop a smile at the utter betrayal in the monkey's face.

“I could beat your ass again,” he grumbled.

“You very well could,” he agreed, “but then you would also have to go against everyone else and they will happily drag both you and me off.”

“Fine!” He throws his hand in the air.

“Got ‘em!” Sheng high-fived Yanyu.

“Told you he would cave in eventually,” the vulture grinned.

“But we are going there to strictly relax, that means no explosions, arsons, paralyzing, hacking, or prison riots.”

“What about stealing and graffitiing,” the bluenette raised her hand.

“If there assholes, be my fucking guest, but your ass better not get caught.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be more stealthy than sneaking into the police hub to get rid of the evidence,” she cockily stated.

“What?”

“What.”

“…you know what the less I know the better.”

“Good choice, so let’s get packing!” She excitedly said as she, Daiyu, Minsheng, and Bohai exited the infirmary.

“So are you gonna tell them that the game dealers there are more than likely to scam them before or after they get robbed?” Ahmed curiously asked.

“After, they need a lesson on not annoying the fuck out of me when I’m working,” he gave a mischievous grin.

“Quite rude of you,” he grinned.

“But you're smiling too.”

Ahmed chuckled lightly as the two left the infirmary.

It was a quiet day at the restaurant, the dinner rush had just ended and all that was really left to do was wait for the store to close and clean up what’s left. The only customers inside were Mei and Tang, both of whom have long since finished eating and are currently just chatting, or laying down, with MK over the counter.

“So how’re your online classes treating you?” Mei asked.

“Great!” He perked up as he took his eyes off the creepy butterfly in the corner of the restaurant, “I’m just about finished with my general study.”

“Ooo, does that mean you finally have a major in mind,” Mei leaned in.

“No I do not.” He cheerfully stated.

All of them, including Pigsy who was listening in, facepalmed.

“Mkkk,” the nineteen year old groaned.

“I knowww,” he slumped down, “but it’s hard deciding what to do for the rest of your life.”

“Well that is okay,” the historian softly said, “you're still young, you have your whole life ahead of you. Besides, college is not for everyone.”

“Yeahhh, so how’re your classes going Mei Mei?” MK turned to his friend, “I know you been taking some of the engineering courses.”

“Ugghhh, don’t get me started,” she slumped down in her seat, “I love it, but that is seriously kicking my ass right now. If I didn’t like to make sweet ass rides then I would have totally just dropped it.”

“Let me guess, for racing,” MK said as he sprayed down the counter.

“Duh, I’m gonna be so fast that when they're only halfway, I've already passed that finish line baby!” Mei screamed.

“Shhhhh,” Tang hushed as he held his head against the cool counter, “not so loud please.”

“You okay there Tang?” Pigsy asked as he moved closer to his friend, “you’ve been like that ever since you got in.”

“Yeah, it’s just this headache has been killing me and my usual medicine isn’t doing a thing,” sighed as he leaned into the warm hand touching his head.

“Doesn’t seem like you have a fever at least,” the pig mutters.

“Do you have any coughing, sneezing, nausea, or any other symptoms?” MK curiously asked as he sat up.

“I have been feeling a bit nauseous,” he murmured.

“Sharp ringing in your ears on and off?”

“Yesss,” he groaned out.

“Hmm hold on,” MK quickly went upstairs, everyone heard faint shuffling noises before he came back down as fast as he was carrying a small baggie, “Can I use your stove and teapot?”

“Go right ahead,” Pigsy agreed.

MK gave a quick smile and they all watched him make a pot of tea, but instead of teabags, he added some of the plants that were inside the bag.

“Here you go,” MK presented the tea to the historian once it was done.

Tang hesitated for a moment before accepting the cup, “…what is it?”

“Medicine. Drink,” he gave him a wide-eyed look.

“...alright,” he shrugged his shoulders and joked, “if this kills me, just burn my corpse.”

“Drink,” MK commanded once more.

Tang drank his tea instead of retorting back and his eyes widen at the taste of it.

“Are ya dead?” Mei asked.

“Feel the poison seeping in,” the pig demon joked.

“This is really good,” he complimented MK and he began to drink more.

“Thanks, it’s Dad’s special recipe diluted when it comes to dealing with migraines,” he happily announced.

“Diluted? I can already feel my migraine already going away, how bad is his if this is diluted?” Tang asked with much concern.

MK grimace as he shared a look with Mei. He can’t help the memories all filtering in of his father lying in bed clutching onto the headphones as it tightly covered all six of his ears. There is never a pattern to when this happens, but he knew to keep a pot of tea hot and a bowl of mango or other non-citrusy fruit available on those days.

“It’s pretty bad,” was all he said.

“Oh,” both adults shared a look before Tang put on a grin as he slurped down his tea, “well this really works, what in it?”

“It’s Feverfew Tea with some Pika berries,” said MK.

“I’ve heard of Feverfew, but I don’t think Pika rings a bell,” Pigsy hummed totally missing Mei’s shocked face.

“Why I never-,”

“No, it’s not pokemon,” MK quickly shut that down before she got to her rant.

‘’Awww,” she deflated.

“It’s from Kunlun peak.”

Tang immediately choked on his tea, “AK! Did you just say Kunlun peak!”

“Yep!”

“What’s so special about that,” she glumly asks.

“Mount Kunlun is known to be a mythical mountain that hikers and historians have been searching for centuries,” Tang began, “It’s said to hold both mythical animals and plants, each having extraordinary potential within them as even the Gods from above go down there for certain herbs and items needed for their potions. It just lays there on top of the highest peak, but no person nor demon has ever had a straight map leading there and you’re telling me your Dad, Macaque, went there?!”

“He goes there a few times a year,” the teenager proudly says.

He looks down at his tea with sparkles in his eyes, “I’m drinking magic tea made from the legendary mountain,” he gave a big slurp as he inhaled it and stood up.

Pigsy eyed the drink, neither teenager knew if it was in envy or jealousy.

“But I’m impressed MK,” Mei playfully punched his shoulder, “look at you being all smart about medicine.”

“Well I hear Dad mutter on and on about different types of herbs and their properties on a day to day basis, that it eventually gets stuck in my head you know,” he joked then he paused as an interesting thought occurred to him, “wait a moment.”

They all watch MK have a silent conversation to himself, complete with waving hands, multiple facial expressions, draw a few sketches on his notepad, and finish with a final glow of his eyes as he leaped up in the air.

“That’s it!”

“What’s it?” The owner said.

“Why didn’t I think of this before!”

“Think of what before?” The historian asked.

“It was seriously in front of me this entire time!”

“MK, I swear if you don’t tell us what’s up right now I am not liable to my next actions,” Mei threatened.

“I can be a Doctor!” He leaned forward in excitement, “or at least something along those lines!”

“You can be pop’s assistant!” Mei started to get excited alongside him, “how the hell did I not think of it either?!”

“I don’t know!”

“It does suit you,” the demon agreed. He knows the kid is smart, he has seen his grades, so it’s not far fetched to assume that he can do this rigorous task. “Hope you have good study habits, I know mines was absolute garbage back in school.”

“With notecards and all,” MK hates studying, his brain goes brrr during those times, but he can’t thank Yanyu and Bohai enough for teaching him different tricks to help keep focus. “Now I’m thinking maybe of being a pharmacist, cause I don’t think I do well with surgery.”

“There are also the ones who diagnose the disease using the X-ray thingie,” she snapped her finger as she tried to remember.

“Radiologist,” Tang called out.

“Yeah that!” She pointed to him.

“Ooo that also sounds interesting,” MK and Mei continued their animated talk as both adults watched.

“It’s nice to see them so happy,” the noodle lover let out a content smile as he drank some more of his tea.

“I hear that,” Pigsy then looked at the man cup in confusion, “by the way you’ve been drinking, I thought you would have already been finished by now.”

“With my first cup yes, I’m on my third one now.”

“How in the-I didn’t even see you leave this area!”

“Magic tea is magic,” was all Tang said.

Pigsy exploded, “That doesn’t explain shit!”

“Well too bad,” he gave a loud slurp once more.

SLURPPP

“You know what, two can play that game,” the human was confused when the pig demon got up and left the room. He was no longer confused as he came back with a cup of tea in hand.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Tang threatened the pig.

The pig looked him straight in the eye and, with a sly smirk, drank down the tea.

SLURRPP

“You heathen!” He shrieked as he banged his hands on the counter and stood up, “how dare you drink my magic tea!”

“Well next time don’t be rude as fuck!” He shot back and got in his face as well.

“That’s rich coming from you!”

“Says the freeloader!”

“Oh here we go again! You know, if you wanted some tea you could have asked!”

“My stove, my cups, my pot, mine.”

“But it was made for me!”

“Yeah well-wait hold up, you feel better right,” Pigsy dropped his screaming as he softly asked his friend, “no drill pounding in your head?”

“Yeah I’m fine now, it really does work miracles,” Tang also lowered his voice.

“That’s good.”

“…they really do act like an old married couple,” Mei announces, MK facepalmed as both adults separated from each other and yelled.

“WE ARE NOT!”

“I’m really sorry about such short notice,” the panda bear demon on call apologized once more to Macaque as he was quickly gathering his ingredients.

“Don’t apologize, shit like this happens,” he waved him off, “I’ll take me a couple of days, a week at max, but I’ll be there before the poison reaches its peak.”

“Thank you,” the panda bowed to him.

“Make sure to store away any semblance of caffeine, alcohol, or anything high in potassium, those are the fastest ways to speed up the process,” he instructed him.

“I’ve been meaning to take away Mink coffee stash, now I have a reason,” he chuckled, “I’ll see you soon.”

“Will do bossman,” he hung up the call and called another number as he continued to pack. Once it picked up he put a smile on his face, “Hey Comet, how’s it going?”

“Good!” The twenty year old happily responded. “You wouldn’t believe it, but the classes are actually kinda easy to understand. They’re still tricky, especially the tests, but Yanyu was right about you teaching this. It made almost all my classes so much easier thanks to you.”

“Aww, that’s another one for my ego,” he joked then he put on a more serious tone, “but I didn’t just call you here for a chat kiddo.”

“Why what’s up? Is there something wrong?” MK suddenly asked as he leaned in, “Do I have to get Mei here and help kick some asses?!”

“Snrk, no nothing like that,” he let out a snort, “you know Po right?”

“Yeah, he’s the panda demon who comes in to get pain relief, muscle relaxants, and other types of medicine for his students? Does this have something to do with him?”

“Close, his disciples messed up big time and accidentally inhaled a bunch of toxic fog when they faced off against an elephant demon.”

“How can an elephant make poison?” MK questioned.

“Magic can do the weirdest of things, I mean I’m a monkey that can do shadow magic,” he pointed out.

“True, okay so he’s gonna come over to pick up the antidote? I don’t see what’s the big problem?”

“Here’s the bad part, Po can’t make a round trip, cause the time he gets back, all of his students…might not be alive,” he gently told him.

“…oh, so what’s gonna happen?”

“Well, I’m going to have to make a house call, which means I'm gonna have to go away for a bit and it’s pretty far, so I won’t be able to hear you.”

“…okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay!” MK gave a big grin to him, “Don’t you worry bout a thing! I’m an adult now Dad, I will be just fine!”

“You have grown up,” he gave a gentle smile, “I’m glad to hear that, but remember to call if there’s any trouble. I may be far, but I will come running if you need it.”

“I will! Now finish packing and save some lives!”

“I will, I’ll see you in two weeks shooting star.”

“See ya later old man!”

Macaque hung up the call with a smile as he resumed his packing. He wished he could have hugged his kid goodbye, but he was in a time crunch as he zipped everything up and quickly jumped out of the treehouse and began to move within the shadows of the trees.

He really does love his shadow powers during these times.

“Duh du Duh,” MK hummed out as he danced his way over to the food delivery destination with the headphones blaring in his ears. He then lifted it to call out the order name when he heard a silky voice interrupt.

“It feels like I waited for an eternity for this moment, is everything in order?”

“Just making the final adjustment mother,” another voice replied and this is when he opened his eyes to see that this was no ordinary food order as an ominous group stood before him.

“Nope,” he immediately whispered as he silently jetted off to hide behind a pile of rocks, but he peaked his head carefully out to see and his eyes widened.

“Finally after all this time,” the woman continued.

‘No way.’

“We have the means to lift Monkey King staff.”

‘It is!’

Standing before them all, wrapped in vibrant viridian vines and burrowed underneath a garden left untouched by the destruction laid around it, was the legendary Monkey King staff.

Things were about to get interesting.

No joke, the delivery scene with the lady is something I had to experience before. There are people who truly treat food workers lower than dirt, which is stupid to me cause why would you disrespect the people making your food? It’s like insulting the people who manage your money.