#do you say trial day? anyway at the company i applied to

[helianthus21]

got my trial day tmr wish me luck!!

[marshmallow-phd]

Healing Touch

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Wolf!AU

Pairing: Yixing x Reader

Summary: Medical school abroad was the last line on your to-do list before starting the rest of your life. Everything was going according to plan. Everything, that is, until tragedy strikes your campus. In the wake of a professor’s untimely death, you’re partnered with the cute boy with a breathtaking smile in the newly combined labs. You find yourself unable to resist the dimples and shy glances, but his life is here with no plans of leaving. Will you continue on as planned or will you accept the hand that Fate had dealt you?

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I Final

**

The smell had not changed in all the years that you used to call this place home. Pinecone potpourri mixed with traditional cooking spices and a hint of citrus from the constant dusting. Your aunt had always been a bit eccentric, a bit off beat. It had made being raised by her both adventurous and anxiety-inducing.

In the privacy of your home, her random dance parties and unfiltered way of speaking made you laugh. But when you were in public and she was pretending to be a mannequin in a window display, you ran away to the food court to hide behind a cup of boba. The explanation was always the same no matter what antics she was pulling: she wanted to break you out of your shell. It seemed like a lost cause. You were comfortable in your shell. It protected you and kept you warm.

“I don’t see how you expect to go trialing off to a place you’ve never been before,” your aunt had complained when you first told her about applying to the far away college.

“They’re two entirely different situations,” you had argued. “I can go to class and go back home without any issues.” These days there was your phone if you ever got lost or in need of food but didn’t want to leave the comfort of your apartment. Modern conveniences only enabled your shut-in ways.

“But what about, you know, friends?” She looked at you over her stylish, cat-eye glasses that she had no use for with her perfect vision.

“I have those,” you insisted. So, you might not have had a best friend, but you had people that you occasionally hung out with and collaborated on. Then there was Victoria and Amber from high school. You still spoke to them regularly, despite them going to different colleges out of the area. Your aunt didn’t realize that not everyone needed multiple circles of friends to bounce between.

Pushing her glasses back up her nose, your aunt pouted. “I just worry about you, that’s all. You still don’t like getting into cars, especially by yourself, and if you happen to be studying late….”

“I don’t mind taking the bus.” A bit of a stretch. You did mind but would still take it if the situation were dire enough. Walking was good exercise. And better for the environment. Someone had to look out for the little bunnies.

“Alright,” your aunt huffed as she sipped on her now lukewarm tea. “It is your life. I’m just a spectator of it.”

“At least you have premium seating,” you teased.

That had made your aunt laugh. She was back to her more carefree self.

“Is that my favorite niece?”

“No, it’s your least favorite nephew.”

Your aunt poked her head out of the hallway, the edge of her pink fuzzy robe telling you that she was getting ready to go out.

That was the exchange the two of you always had when you came to visit. The first time around, you had rolled your eyes and given the sarcastic answer for the cliché greeting. As your mother and aunt were the only siblings in their family and your father was the single offspring from his parents, there were no other nieces or nephews to put above or below you.

Without prompt, your aunt passed through the living room and onto the kitchen. When she came back, she had two wine glasses filled with bubble pink liquid. After handing you the lesser filled glass, she sat down on the couch while you opted for the loveseat, letting your purse drop to the hardwood floor by your feet. Your aunt leaned back on the arm rest with one elbow as she sipped on the wine. “It’s watermelon,” she informed you when you hadn’t taken a drink. “Try it.”

Shaking your head, you did as she asked. Oh, no. It was delicious. That was dangerous. You took another, larger swig before putting the glass down on the coffee table.

Growing up, you’d felt bad for your aunt. Sometimes you still did, though not as much after her many lectures as to why you shouldn’t.

She’d always been the carefree one. As a marketing consultant, she was constantly flying all over the globe, having adventures in between work meetings and bringing those experiences back to you in the form of expensive souvenirs. When your parents volunteered to go help a poorer nation with their health crisis, your aunt was quick to lend her babysitting services. It was only supposed to be temporary, after all. Then tragedy struck

Your parents never came back and suddenly your aunt was now your permanent guardian. The carefree spirit took it in stride. She shifted her strategy to more web-based conferences until you were in high school and able to be on your own for longer periods of time. She never turned into your mother; she never wanted to. For that, you were even more thankful. She was still the spontaneous, forever young aunt that you had always known. That stability in her personality was exactly what you needed. Too much had changed in your world on a dime, the less that was altered the better.

“What prompted this little visit?” she asked, a curious half smile on her lips.

You shrugged. “I hadn’t seen you in a while, so I thought I’d stop by and say hi. It looks like you’re getting ready to go out, though.”

Your aunt waved her hand limply. “Not for a few hours. Besides, anything can wait for you.”

Shifting in your seat, you smiled at the affection she had for you. “I finally heard from the university,” you told her.

Her eyebrows shot up. “You did? They finally decided to stop dangling the carrot and just give it to you, did they?”

“Not exactly,” you cringed. “They said they wanted to see how this semester went and then they would let me know.”

Your aunts face fell into a scowl as if something awful smelling had made its way into her nose. “What sense does that make?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. But at least it’s not an outright no.”

Clicking her tongue, your aunt leaned forward so she was now balancing her elbows on her knees. “You know, there are still other options. Closer options.”

“I know,” you said with a monotone voice. “But Plan A is my focus. I’ll look to other options if that falls through.”

That knowing look you were all too familiar with formed on her face. A long, reminiscing sigh blew out from her lungs. “You are so much like your mother. It’s scary sometimes.”

You never knew how to respond when she said things like that. Should you be happy at the comparison? Sad because your mother wasn’t here to tell you herself? You were a child when your parents passed away. You remembered vague moments, birthday parties and movie nights. But when you’re that young, you don’t get a good idea of your parents’ personalities. You don’t learn what they like or don’t like, how they act in crowds versus a small group of people. You have to rely on the memories of those left behind.

You stayed at your aunt’s house for another hour or so, talking to her about her latest clients and nights out with the girls. You told her how your days were going and how you were adjusting to the new routine with the combined class. The news of Yixing sat on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t bring yourself to mention him. Her reaction would have been too predictable.  She’d ask when the two of you were going to go out and when you explained that it wasn’t like that, she would ask why not. For that, you didn’t have an answer.

While you wanted to say that the two of you were just friends, it didn’t feel like the truth.

You saw more of Yixing than of anyone else, including Ran. He would walk you to class multiple times a day and the two of you would talk. Not about anything too deep. You weren’t at that level yet. He was funny and charming, never speaking a word that wasn’t kind. You learned that he lived in farmhouse in the woods with eight other people, all men. He swore it was never too crowded and that he actually enjoyed the company. He got lonely easily.

He also told you about how he took a few years off of college to figure out what he wanted to do. You’d asked him how he came to the path of becoming a doctor. He said he simply wanted to do something that would help people. He thought about opening a low-income clinic once he had his degree. Suddenly your heart was pumping under your sternum. When he asked why you went pre-med, you gave a shrug and said your parents and left it at that. These conversations were usually nice and lighthearted, you didn’t want to be the downer.

Yes, spending time with Yixing was nice, the highlight of your day, sometimes. But he also felt like a secret. One that you should keep to yourself for now. Good things didn’t always last. You wanted to see if this was a long-term investment for him before you invited anyone else in.

The next day, you needed some fresh air, so you decided to take a walk in the nature center on the edge of town. Although the woods would be a no-go area since they still hadn’t caught the animal terrorizing the area, the center would be full of people and should be quite safe. It couldn’t really be considered part of the woods given the infrastructure and the observation building, could it? Deciding to go anyway, you packed your bag with a few notes, snacks, and a water bottle. As your hand landed on the doorknob to leave, your eyes fell on the jacket lying on the back of the couch.

You hadn’t worn the comforting fabric since that day. The weather had been nice and putting it on would have seemed a bit obnoxious in your eyes. But this morning the weatherman had mentioned a chilly breeze. It wouldn’t hurt.

Arms through their designated holes, you left the apartment and started the walk to the outskirts of town. It wasn’t too far of a walk, maybe thirty, forty minutes at the most. You thanked yourself for wearing the jacket. A “chilly breeze” was an understatement. A few families and couples were dotted among the trails of the nature center that wound near and over the small creek. You passed by them all until you came to a spot that was deserted. Resting your legs, you sat on a bench with your back to the trees. The sun was shining up above. The only noise seemed to come from the rustling leaves and trickling creek. It was peaceful, just what you needed.

With your bag beside you, you took out a piece of paper with yesterday’s notes and started to review them. Some of the words were smudged and the edges were already crinkling, but you could make most of it out. The paper flopped in the wind. You thought you had a good enough grip on it, but a gust of air proved you wrong.

The paper went flying over your head and straight for the trees. Panic made you jump up, slinging your bag over your shoulder as you ran after it. The wind – now relentless – was enough to keep the paper continuously out of your reach.

It finally came to a stop when it caught on a tree root sticking out in the ground. You snatched the paper up and stuffed it into the bag to keep it from running away again. Straightening up again, your eyes settled on the horizon.

Then you screamed.

**

Yixing’s eyes snapped open.

He was no longer a wolf. He was human again. Sitting up, he brushed off the leaves from his arms. What time was it? Was it even the same day? He’d blacked out again. At this point, it was almost routine. His only consolation prize being the fact that he was alone. He still needed to figure out what was happening to him. He wasn’t ready to take this to his brothers. There was enough to worry about at the moment.

Getting on his feet, Yixing headed in the direction of where his things were stored. In order to avoid the others wanting to run with him, he’d entered the forest from a different area, storing his things in a bush to get back to later. He flicked his jeans to get the dirt off before pulling them on and then stuffing his feet in his shoes.

A piercing cry for cut through the air.

The hair on the back of Yixing’s neck stood up.

“Help! Somebody help!”

It was your voice.

He gasped. Then he took off. If anything happened to you-

Yixing skidded to a stop when he saw you kneeling in the grass. A body was laying in front of you, the clothes ripped and stained dark. It was lying face down, but Yixing could tell that it was a man and that he’d been attacked.

“(Y/n), what happened?”

You stared at him with wide, confused eyes. “Yixing? What are you doing here?”

He ignored your question, more worried about your own wellbeing. “What happened?” he repeated.

You shook your head as you dropped your eyes to the man lying on the ground. “I don’t know. I just found him like this. He’s still breathing but I’m not strong enough to move him.”

Yixing analyzed the situation. His car was only on the other side of the trees. The man was still alive. From Yixing’s point of view, he could make it, but they needed to act fast. Slipping his arms under the man while careful not to move him too much, he picked the man up and motioned with his head for you to follow.

He said nothing and you asked no questions as the tree line broke. Yixing scanned the parking lot of the nature center until he found his car. He rushed to the vehicle with a few glances over his shoulder to make sure you were keeping up with him.

“(y/n)?”

“Yeah?” You were huffing. Had he been running? He’d tried to go at a pace that you could keep up with.

“In my front right pocket are my keys. Can you fish them out and unlock the doors?”

You nodded. Yixing could feel your fingers trembling as they slipped into the denim opening. The shaking was even more obvious once the keys were free, the house and car keys clinking together as you searched for the fob to unlock the doors. Without prompt, you opened the back door to allow Yixing to slip the man into the bench seat. He told you to get in the front. You tossed him the keys and the two of you rushed to the hospital.

A pair of doctors rushed out of the automatic doors as soon as the car pulled into the emergency entrance.

“We found him in the woods,” Yixing explained. The doctors quickly examined the man as two more nurses came out with a stretcher.

“I think that animal attacked him,” you added.

Yixing’s eyes flickered over to you with worry. The doctors nodded in acknowledgement then helped the nurses move the man to the stretcher. The two of you followed closely but were forced to stay behind in the waiting room. Yixing sat next to you in the uncomfortable plastic chairs that were connected to the wall.

“You never answered the question.”

Yixing frowned. “What question?”

You turned to look at him with your eyebrows furrowed, making him want to reach out and smooth the creases they created. “What you were doing out in the woods.”

Yixing stiffened. He pressed his foot into the tile floor to keep it from bouncing. “I was… hiking.”

“Without a shirt?”

He looked down. Crap. He hadn’t even realized that he wasn’t finished getting dressed before he took off. “I get warm easily.”

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously. Yixing fought to keep his face neutral. It was a pathetic excuse, he knew it. But you didn’t call him out on it. Instead, you leaned forward, unzipping the polyester bomber that was easily recognizable as his own, taking it off, and holding it out to him.

“I’m fine,” Yixing said, ignoring the jacket.

“You really should put it on. I heard the front desk call the cops. They’ll be here soon, and it’ll look suspicious. What would you tell them the reason was for you not having a shirt?”

A cheeky answer came to mind. Yixing bit down to hold it back, even if it would have caused your face to heat up in an adorable fashion. The instinct of making sure his mate was okay was almost too great to ignore. You were the one who needed to stay warm, stay protected. But you had a valid point. And you were inside, out of the wind. So, he accepted the jacket and ran the zipper almost up to his neck to hide the lack of shirt underneath.

The police arrived about twenty minutes later. They separated you, making him anxious. Over the next hour or so, Yixing gave his side of the story to the officer. They took him at his word that he was strolling through the woods. The doctors had already informed the officers that the wounds were clearly animal made. While severe, they weren’t life threatening. That gave Yixing a small amount of relief.

“Would you two like to see him?” one of the nurses asked another hour later. You nodded eagerly. Yixing stayed a bit behind as the nurse led you through the halls to a large room that held several beds separated by plastic curtains.

The man was awake. Black stitches covered his arms. Three claw marks ran down the left cheek. From what Yixing knew of the other victims, this guy was lucky. He was talking to a nurse when he looked to see who his visitors were. As soon as his eyes landed on Yixing, the heart monitor spiked and his breathing quickened.

“Hey, it’s okay, these are the people who found you,” the nurse said to try and calm him down.

“Oh.” The man’s heart rate started to slow again. Each breath was deeper until they were back to normal. “I’m sorry.”

“How are you feeling?” you asked, taking a step forward. Yixing fought the urge to put himself between you and the man you’d rescued. He was probably harmless, but he had also been through a traumatic situation.

The man nodded. “I’m… alive, at least. Thank you.”

You gave a small smile. “I’m glad I came along when I did. Did you,” you bit your bottom lip nervously, “happen to see what attacked you?”

Yixing held his breath.

“It was a large gray wolf,” the man answered. “Huge. Like a mutated one you would see in the movies. He came from nowhere, knocked me down. I thought I was going to end up like the others as he clawed at me. Then he was gone.”

Yixing’s fist tightened at his side, his throat constricting. He forced down a swallow. He couldn’t panic. Not here.

You frowned. “I wonder what scared him off.”

“Maybe you did?” Yixing said with a slight tease. It was more to keep his own mental state calm than for the benefit of everyone else.

“I’m not that frightening.”

“Whatever it was,” the man shook his head, “I’m thankful.”

“He should really rest now,” the nurse said sternly. Yixing nodded in agreement and, after the goodbyes were given, led you away.

Once outside of the hospital, Yixing stopped you. “I can take you home.”

“That’s okay,” you countered, “I can walk.”

He didn’t like that one bit. Besides, he really needed you by his side right now. “Where do you live?”

“In an apartment near campus.”

No way. “That’s nearly halfway across the city. I can take you. It’s not a big deal.”

You shifted form foot to foot, refusing to meet his eye. “I don’t… really like cars.”

“You made it here alright.”

“That’s because I was too worried about him to think about it. The adrenaline blocked everything out.”

“I’m a safe driver, I promise.”

“I believe you. I just-” You blew air out between your lips, which ended in a growl. It was actually kind of cute. Yixing pushed back a grin. It wasn’t appropriate right now. “My parents were killed in a car crash, so they kind of freak me out.” You sucked in your lips as if you hadn’t meant to reveal that vital information.

Oh. That explained… a lot actually. At least, in terms of what you had been holding back from him. He never wanted to push, but he felt better knowing more about you.

“I understand,” he said sympathetically. “Can I walk you home then? I can come back for my car later.”

You shook your head. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Maybe so. But I need to make sure that you get home safe.”

You weighed his alternative for a minute or so. Yixing kept his patience. He refused to push you farther than you were willing to go. He just needed to see you walk safely into your building and then he would be okay until he saw you again.

“Okay,” you sighed. “You can drive me home.” He could have leapt with joy.

Yixing waited for you to get in the car before sliding behind the wheel himself. The death grip you had on the side handle didn’t escape his notice. He made sure to slow down easily and to take each turn with care. The only words you spoke were to give him directions. It wasn’t until the car was in park outside of your building did you finally relax.

“Thank you,” you told him in a strained voice.

“Any time.”

“I’m sorry if I was a little dramatic. I—” the growl of your empty stomach interrupted your speech. You groaned from embarrassment. Yixing couldn’t help his laugh.

Knock, knock, knock.

Leaning over and looking through the passenger window of his car was a strange girl Yixing had never seen before. He rolled down the window barely enough to be able hear what she was saying.

“How the hell did you get (y/n) into a car?” the girl gasped. You visibly cringed in the seat, sinking down a few inches.

Yixing blinked, unsure of how to respond. “Um, I—”

“Yixing, this is my roommate, Ran,” you interrupted, saving him. “Ran, this is Yixing. We have class together.”

“Oh!” The inclination behind her exclamation was more than obvious. And Yixing didn’t object to it. “I just ordered pizza and I know (y/n) usually gets hungry around this time. Do you want to join us?”

You flashed your roommate a panicked look, but Yixing couldn’t resist the opportunity. “That sounds great.” He caught you flinching, so he added, “As long as (y/n)’s okay with it.”

“Yeah,” you relented. “It’s the least I could do. For the ride.” You flashed an annoyed glare at Ran before getting out of the vehicle.

Yixing shouldn’t be this elated as he nearly sprung from the driver’s seat. He walked around the car slowly and let you and Ran lead the way, in case you changed your mind. You didn’t, thankfully, and Yixing walked up to your door with anticipation so great that he almost was able to forget what the man had said back at the hospital.

Almost.

[anonthenullifier]

Tommy get caught making out with his girlfriend pls

Thanks for the ask! I hope you enjoy!

———

With a soft click the last light on the main floor extinguishes, leaving Vision to bask in the serenity of lumenless solitude. It’s a simple joy he gets each night after the others are in bed. Satisfied with the main floor, he rises an inch off the ground, hovering above each step instead of touching it, ostensibly to keep the wood from creaking and waking either of the boys, but truthfully he finds it soothing. 

At the top of the stairs he glances to the right, checking that the doors are shut and the lights off, particularly the bathroom since Tommy has a habit of leaving everything illuminated. It is all blissfully shrouded in night. Vision’s lips curve ever so slightly up, the evening remarkably calm, no squabbles between their sons or unnecessary name calling. Even Tommy managed a mumbled Love you on his way up the stairs. It’s almost too calm. 

Vision shakes away the thought, not even certain where it came from, and begins to head towards his own bedroom. That’s when he hears a pathetic whine from behind, body whipping around until he spots the culprit. “Did he shut you out?” Sparky's ears perk up at the attention, little tail giving a forlorn wag. “That is an easy fix.” Vision hovers back to Tommy’s door and goes to open it, except the handle doesn’t move. “How odd.” They don’t have a locked room policy but neither of their sons has ever locked anyone (especially Sparky) out, likely because a locked door stands little chance against any of their powers. 

As if attuned to his own confusion, Sparky stares up at Vision, head cocked to the side in anticipation of his solution. He could easily phase the lock open, but privacy is a right he wishes to allow his sons. “I suppose you can sleep with us tonight,” the words are meaningless to the dog, head still held at an adorable forty seven degree tilt, one fine tuned to get treats and balls thrown. “Come along,” Vision nods towards the master bedroom, the joyful tapping of nails on the hardwoods hard not to smile at. When they get to the door, Vision sets a single cheeky ground rule, “Keep your paws off my wife, understood?” 

A little sniffle and wag of his tail accepts the rule and Vision opens the door, Sparky racing in and immediately leaping into the bed, trouncing across the duvet until he is laying with his head on Wanda’s stomach and paws on her arm. “Why hello there you handsome man,” Wanda pets his head and Vision provides a good-natured glare at the rule breaker who lacks any sense of regret, or so the lolling tongue suggests, “and hello to you as well Sparky.” Vision shouldn’t feel a sense of victory over a dog, but he can’t help it, especially when Wanda’s eyes alight in flirtatious glee that draws him to sit on the bed. 

“You can thank Thomas for our company.”

Her “Oh?” is cooed at the dog, who has flopped sideways for a belly rub, his back paws discourteously shoved into Vision’s pillow. 

“He locked him out.”

Wanda leans down so that her nose is almost touching Sparky’s as her fingers scrunch behind his ears. “That wasn’t very nice of him.” If one were to imagine the expression of a customer being pampered at the world's most luxurious spa, it would no doubt pale in comparison the overflowing exuberance on the dog’s face. “Probably safest not to be in there anyway.” 

The comment is said with an air of knowingness and a tinge of innuendo. Vision had not even thought about that possibility, truthfully he hadn’t even thought much of the door being locked but it’s likely not an unfair assumption, the boys are teens now, a time he has read is filled with raging hormones and exploration. Perhaps they’ll need to have another talk about boundaries if this becomes the norm.  For now he’ll simply not think anymore about it. 

“Sparky, may I,” he attempts to scoot the paws away from his pillow, but they spring back immediately, forcing Vision to lay down farther than he’d like from Wanda. “This is why he sleeps with Tommy.”

Wanda shrugs, still playing the role of world's best masseuse, “I’m comfy.” 

“That is a relief.” A throw pillow is tossed at his face with a flick of her wrist, except, having been married for so long and understanding the statistical patterns of her reactions, he is able to catch it, pointedly fluffing it before sliding it behind his neck. “Thank you, darling.” What he expects to see next is the purse of her lips, a sign she is striving not to laugh. Her lips are pinched together but there is no amusement to be found on her face, even her hand stalling in petting Sparky. “Is something wrong?”

A tilt of her head to the side sends his autonomic system into action. “Did you check the perimeter?”

“Of course.” He waits for more and when it stays locked behind her lips, he presses on. “Why?”

Scarlet wavers along the blanket, her fingers rising and falling like a puppeteer until she seems to reach a conclusion. “There’s an extra mind in Tommy’s room.” 

The locked door becomes menacing instead of a minor annoyance. “I will check the outside and you—“

“Inside, yep.” 

Vision leans back, phasing through the bed and the wall until he is eight feet above their deck. Through controlled trial and error he knows the best density for stealth, his molecules bursting into a frenzy until he is lighter than air. Only then does he dare fly towards Tommy’s window. It is wide open, concerning and not economical since it will increase their energy costs, not that it is a concern at the moment, but for later.  Window ajar. 

Door still locked. Confirmed second mind in his room. Not Billy. 

If Wanda recognized the mind, she would alert him. I will proceed inside. Vision breathes in, always wanting just a second to settle all raging thoughts, and then he phases into the room, Mindstone glowing faintly so as not to alert the intruder. With hushed breath, Vision inches forward, noting what appears to be Tommy on his side, pajama clad back facing him. 

Nothing seems amiss, other than the open window and extra mind. It is unsettling. Vision increases his auricular and ocular sensors as he continues to investigate, hands lifting into stance #5 of Natasha’s recommended hand to hand combat defenses.

There is a quiet smacking noise, a recognizable one though he can not place it, and then there is a...giggle, not belonging to his son. It is when he notices the splay of dark hair on the pillow that it all clicks. Oh. Vision begins to back up, not desiring to intrude further even if he also has this instinctive need to interrupt, but he quells that. 

I’m coming in. The three quarters of a second it takes him to process Wanda’s comment is half a second too long, his abort mission not arriving until after the door opens with a very noticeable click 

This is when everything erupts into chaos.

A pillow is thrown through his face simultaneously with a, “What the fuck, dad!” and what sounds like a shriek from Tommy’s bedfellow. Then a blur of green fills the room, Tommy grabbing onto Vision’s semi-transparent waist and hauling him towards the door, just as Vision’s politeness kicks in with a cheerful, “Terribly sorry for interrupting.”

And then they are in the hallway, the door shut behind Tommy, whose face is contorted in rage and breath is uneven. Wanda stands frozen, hands raised and shimmering, her eyes bouncing between Tommy and himself. Tommy only looks at Vision, voice shaking, “What are you doing coming through my wall?”

“Was that,” Vision mentally reconstructs everything as best he can, “was Lisa in there with you?”

All at once the anger is knocked off their son’s face and replaced with a completely fake innocence, “Who’s Lisa?” It doesn’t even take the entire time for Vision’s brows to rise for Tommy to realize the misstep. “I um meant, um,” 

Wanda doesn’t allow him to flounder, oddly. “Is she still in there?”

Perhaps it is the Young Avenger’s training on being interrogated or the fact Tommy’s thoughts are always racing away from responsibility, but he won’t even answer this question, “I don’t um know what you’re talking about.”

A deep, disappointed sigh comes from his wife before she wraps Tommy in red and drags him from the door. “I’m taking her home.” With that she disappears into the room, light peeking out from under the door and muffled words floating through the wood. 

All Vision can do is stare at Tommy, lost in what exactly to say in this situation. Unfortunately, Tommy doesn’t share the same hesitation. “You know Billy does this all the time,” the door to his twin’s room opens slightly, “he just can block mom’s powers from noticing” and then it shuts with an aggrieved click. Wonderful. 

“Um well,” Vision isn’t sure why he falters so gloriously, as a father he’s expected to handle these things and yet this wasn’t in the books he read while Wanda was pregnant nor in the literature on problem behaviors at school, “perhaps you help your mother take Lisa home and we will discuss this in the morning.”

-----

“I think we just ground him for a couple days,” the last word is muffled and more syllables than necessary, ending only when Wanda stifles her yawn. 

This is what she suggested before leaving to take Lisa home and what he has been mulling over until she returned. “But under what rule is he being punished?”

There is not actually any rule thus far uttered in the Maximoff household concerning sneaking in significant others. An oversight, clearly, and yet Vision knows that what happened is wrong, he just cannot find a suitable reason beyond that it feels wrong. “Curfew?”

This he considered. Unless otherwise specified, the boys must be back by 9pm on a school night and 12am on the weekends. “But he was home and we never explicitly specified that curfew applies to their friends or partners.”

Wanda does not suffer this sort of agonizing rumination, “He was hiding it, he knew it was wrong.”

A truth and annoyance because it’s not like they don’t allow their sons alone time when their significant other is over. He recalls and empathizes with the thrill of young love and the need for solitude. Which brings him to the next point of scrutiny, “But does it not feel hypocritical to punish him for this when we broke international law to do the same thing?” 

“I thought you said that was a false equivalency?”

It is, insofar as there are too many confounding variables for their lawbreaking tryst to be considered equal with the current indiscretion and yet…”Tommy will leverage it against us.”

“Good thing he doesn’t know how often we break compound PDA rules...”

Another hypocrisy if they hand down a harsh sentence. “Again, does it not feel incongruous to punish him when we commit the same offense? We did sully the billiard table last week…”

“That was fun.”

“It was.” The way she stretches out, head propped up on her hand and robe fluttering open along her thigh, he’d recidivate in a heartbeat. Which is why he stops his heart long enough to finish their conversation. “But how can we hold him to a higher standard than us, when we, as cognitively mature individuals act similarly? Authoritative parenting requires us to explain the logic of our punishments.”

Their eyes meet in joint contemplation, the weight of the topic forming endearing wrinkles on his wife’s brow. “You say we act similarly,” her voice is steady, distant as if it is hauling the reasoning in though isn’t sure it will make it, “but you always calculate our odds of being caught or harming someone else with our actions.”

It is a structural equation model he keeps to himself, one that even the thought of calculating sends electric thrills along his spine. “I do and we tend to have a threshold set of when it is and is not acceptable.” The billiard table, for instance, had an 87% chance of not being caught and, with proper sanitation, a relatively low impact on others. 

“Do you think Tommy put much thought into tonight?” Knowing their son the extent of effortful planning was likely how to get her into the house. “He seemed surprised when Lisa’s dad was furious.” 

Vision isn’t surprised at the man’s reaction but is perturbed that was not even a thought to Tommy. When entering all the variables into his model, Tommy had a dismal 10% chance of success and a rather high 87.5% chance of harming someone else. “How do we handle this alongside the accusation lobbed at Billy?”

Deviousness parts her lips, hair dancing along her shoulders as she nods, “I have a great idea.”

----

This formation, with mom and dad in the armchairs, hands linked over the chasm between the armrests, and Billy next to him on the couch is the formation of doom. The silence that lays heavy over the room is the warm up to the interrogation. Tommy braces himself for what’s to come. 

“Would you like to explain your reasoning for last night’s actions?” Dad is always so damn calm, irises not even budging to betray any sign of how bad this will go. 

Tommy knows there isn’t a right answer here, and honestly, he doesn’t exactly have a good reason and annoyingly Billy played dumb last night when he begged him for advice. Apparently throwing him under the bus was an asshole move. After the bad lie last night, Who’s Lisa a fantastic way to piss everyone off (especially Lisa), he defaults to short and sweet (fingers crossed) honesty. “Thought it would be fun.” It was, until dad interrupted. 

There’s no immediate response, not even a blink, the entire room focused on his continued idiocy. “I see.” That’s never what he wants to hear from dad. 

“You two have to understand that!” His arms sputter about, trying to drag their attention to what they all know. “At least I’m not breaking the law.”

Mom scowls. Shit. “Very different circumstances.” 

“Yeah, yours was way worse.” No no no, why can he not just shut up like Billy, that Grecian statue next to him, ramrod straight and eyes dead to the world. 

The shared look, one that means the infamous mind voodoo is at play, an entire conversation occurring between mom and dad that only he can’t access, assuming Billy is brave enough to tap into it. If he is, he’s not sharing with Tommy. “You are right.”

Wait…”What?”

Dad isn’t capable of something so casual as a shrug, but the leisurely blink of his eyes and dip of his chin is roughly equivalent. “We understand the reasoning. Your mother and I are intimately,” gross, “familiar with the thrill of skirting rules of affection.”

If this isn’t his punishment, heaven help him. “No details needed.”

Billy’s “Please,” is practically silent. 

Mom smirks and he fears the worst, until she speaks, “Which is why we aren’t grounding you,” hallelujah, “this time,” fair enough. “But going forward you can’t do this. Either of you.” 

An I hate you drops into his mind. Tommy tries to send back a No you don’t but Billy has already shuttered their connection. “Agreed, so…” Tommy stands from the couch, hands brushing away the discomfort of the meeting, “we’re good, right?”

Dad’s “No,” ties itself around his waist and yanks him back onto the cushion. “Given Lisa was not so fortunate in her punishment,” she’s been forbidden from seeing him again, but Tommy isn’t planning on abiding by that, assuming she wants to see him again, “I believe a long talk about respect for your partner and the need for consensual, in depth decision making when it comes to risk taking is in order. You both are still too young and cognitively immature to fully weigh impulsiveness and so we would like to walk through a variety of scenarios to work through this topic.”

He’d rather die. “Can I just be grounded instead?”

Scarlet outlines mom’s pupils as she stares him down, “No.”

Dad clears his throat, needlessly pulling a painfully thick packet of stapled papers from behind him. The transition into his academic voice is only the first sign that their torture will be unrelenting. “Scenario 1: you and your paramour are driving down the road when they suggest a rather risqué activity…”

Tommy accepts that today marks the loss of his soul and all ability to feel alive, all to the chorus of Billy’s reaffirmation in his mind: I hate you so much. 

[theladyofdeath]

Swipe Right {Rowaelin Fluff Modern AU}

Part TWO to Swipe Left {Rowaelin Fluff}

Written alongside the beautiful and talented @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty

Aelin looked in the mirror one final time. She had to look absolutely perfect, of course, even though she was just visiting Rowan at work. It had been a little over a year since she had met the love of her life in the airport, and life was pretty perfect. 

She had no complaints.

And from what she could tell, the perfection would only continue to grow.

After brushing through her long, golden hair, Aelin slipped on a pair of brown sandals to go with her turquoise t-shirt dress and called it good.

It had been an eventful morning, to say the least, starting with a quick workout and brunch with Lysandra. After that, she’d showered and gotten ready, checking her email for an offer letter from one of the many companies she’d applied to. The paid internship she’d taken had ended a couple weeks back and while Rowan had been more than generous, not asking her to pay rent when she’d moved in, she needed to start pulling her weight.

Rowan said she could pay him in other ways and she snorted and shoved him.

Aelin liked to contribute. She liked to help out.

Nonetheless, she was hurrying down the steps, as quickly as she could, and to her car. Once inside, she was starting the engine and pulling out of the parking space before the radio could even catch up and begin playing music.

She was giddy, could hardly control herself.

She couldn’t wait to show Rowan.

In her defense, though, she was also bringing him lunch just before his lunch period, so it wasn’t all about her surprise. It was about the kind, loving gesture that could only be shown through bringing your significant other food.

She had to make one stop before she stopped at the school, though, and that was the most important of the day.

__

Rowan turned around and crossed his arms as he looked at his class. “Can anybody tell me who Abigail Williams is?”

He was met with silence.

“You learned about her last year, with Ms. Lochan.”

Not even a blink of recognition.

He sighed and rubbed between his brows with his thumb and forefinger. “First person who can tell me anything about her gets to leave for lunch ten minutes early.”

A male voice spoke up. “She was accused of being a witch, right?”

“Good, Quinton, she was.” He pointed at the student, who was a basketball player. He’d never put any effort into his studies until recently, when he realized colleges care about your grades, too, not just how many three pointers you can hit. “Where?”

Quinton hesitated.

“Starts with a S,” Rowan slowly.

“Salem,” Quinton said, without any hesitation.

Rowan leaned back against the whiteboard, arms crossed. “Very goo-.”

His words dropped off as he noticed a flutter of movement in the doorway out of the corner of his eye. His class had noticed, too, because he instantly lost their attention as Aelin gave him an amused look.

Rowan couldn’t be mad. His eyes softened as he said, “You all remember my-.”

She was met with a series of loud hellos and hollers, which only made her grin widen - and her ego grow to an uncontrollable level, no doubt. 

She held up a bag. “I brought lunch. I didn’t mean to be early. I’ll just…” She pointed to Rowan’s desk in the back corner of the room, indicating her destination.

He chuckled and nodded. He turned his attention back to his class, trying to reclaim their attention. “Alright, next week, we’re going to start on the Salem Witch Trials.” There was a flutter of excitement, which was atypical for sixteen- and seventeen-year-olds in school. “I don’t want to get your hopes up, because yes, it’s extremely interesting, but there’s also a lot of dates or boring stuff.” There was a collective groan, knowing Rowan would give one of his date only quizzes for extra credit. “But...we’re also going to be watching a movie next week. Which leads me to our homework…” Cue the groans again.

“Witches are a commonly adapted piece of folklore in modern media. Monday, I want you to bring in an example of your favorite adaptation of witches from movies, tv shows, music videos, whatever it may be. Wednesday, I want an example of other times there were witch hunts in history, aside from Salem. Not too hard, but we’re going to be taking a lot of notes. Be ready.” He glanced at his watch and saw it was ten til. He nodded his head at Quinton. “Q, you ready for lunch?”

He nodded yes and started packing up his backpack.

Rowan shrugged and said, “I’m feeling generous today. Pick a buddy to go with you.”

Quinton smirked and turned around, pointing to Aelin. “You hungry, Miss G?”

The class erupted into good natured heckling.

Aelin laughed, quietly. “I’m afraid I’ve already eaten.”

“Too bad,” Quinton murmured, earning another round of laughter. “Evangeline, then.”

Evangeline rolled her eyes but began packing up, anyway.

Rowan gestured for them both to go then told the others to get started on their homework, which meant they’d be talking quietly among themselves or on their phones, until the bell rang.

Rowan made his round around the room and ended by his desk, sitting on the edge. His smile had faded, and he wore a concerned frown. “Why’d you come in such a hurry? Don’t get me wrong, I love that you’re here, but...I mean, is everything okay? Did something happen?”

He hated that he had to miss the appointment, but he was saving his vacation days for the months when Aelin would need him home.

“No, nothing, just…” She shrugged her shoulders trying to appear cool and casual, but inside she was about to explode. “Wanted to see you.”

She couldn’t tell if he believed her, he smiled softly, but the wariness was still in his eyes. “Well?” He asked.

She laughed, quietly. “You don’t think I should maybe wait until you don’t have a class of eavesdropping teenagers around?”

She gave a pointed glance behind him and he caught two of his students quickly turning around.

“Maybe you’re right,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. He glanced over at the clock, they still had a few minutes. “What did you bring me for lunch?”

Aelin chuckled before she said, “Ham and cheese sandwich, a bag of chips, and cut up apples with some caramel to dip them in.”

Rowan’s smile was genuine when he said, “You spoil me.”

He reached for the bag, but she snatched it back. “It’s not fair of you to eat in front of your students,” she replied, smirking.

He rolled his eyes, but got back up, making another quick circle around the room.

“Mr. Whitethorn?” A girl’s hand raised. “We have a question about what we can use for our media. Movies are okay, right?”

He figured the question would be coming and he was glad someone asked it, rather than half the class having to scramble like the grade before them did last year. “Movies are permitted, but PG-13 or lower. Can’t be rated R.” There was a chorus of groans. “I don’t make the rules, sorry, but if I did, you still wouldn’t be allowed to.”

The bell rang and as everyone rushed for the door, he called, “Alright, don't forget your homework and have a great weekend!”

They were out the door before he’d finished his sentence. Aelin was chuckling from where she sat on his desk.

In a flash, Rowan was at the door, locking it, pulling the privacy blind and then at his desk. He pressed his lips to Aelin’s and said, “Okay, well?”

She laughed and handed him the brown sack that his lunch was in. Rowan looked at the bag and said, “I appreciate you bringing me lunch, baby, but that’s not what I’m asking.”

The urge to roll her eyes was almost too strong to resist, but she said, “Open the bag, you frantic buzzard.”

With narrowed eyes in her direction, he did as he was asked, and froze. His eyes widened as his hand reached in and pulled out the little black and white ultrasound pictures.

He said absolutely nothing as he shuffled through them, his green eyes growing bright and misty.

Aelin watched him with complete adoration.

“Shit,” he breathed, shaking his head as he met Aelin’s loving gaze. “This is our kid.”

She nodded, a smile breaking on her lips. She didn’t try to stop the tears that slid down her cheek.

Aelin and Rowan had gotten married on the beach, almost six months to the day after they’d met. Neither of them had any immediate family and they both knew the wanted no one but the other for the rest of their days.

They’d suspected Aelin was pregnant a few weeks earlier. Her cycle hadn’t come and Rowan was actually the one who noticed it was late.

Now, their baby was growing and would be there in a matter of months. These were the first ultrasound pictures where the baby actually looked like a baby, not just a blob. They could see the head, the hands, the feet, everything.

“Yeah,” she smiled, and he took her face into his hands and kissed her, softly. “It’s our baby.”

“I’m so sad I missed it,” he whispered. “Instead, I was here talking about shit that none of these kids will remember tomorrow.”

“There will be others,” she promised. “Much more important appointments that you’ll be able to come to.”

His eyes lit up. “When do we find out if it’s a boy or girl?”

She rolled her eyes, kissing him once more. It had been a constant debate for them both the past month. Rowan was adamant it was a girl, but Aelin said she could feel that it was a boy. “She wants to schedule that for eighteen weeks, but says we may not be able to tell until twenty.”

Rowan waited and he asked, “And how pregnant are you right now?”

“Ro!” She laughed but shoved him. “This morning was eleven weeks.” She placed her hand over her stomach, the bump just barely starting to show.

He laid his hand over hers. “Six weeks until I get to see my beautiful baby girl.”

“Or your perfect, handsome son,” she laughed.

Rowan just said, “We’ll see.”

Aelin rolled her eyes and took a bite of his sandwich, which earned her a scowl from him. When she claimed it was because she was eating for two, Rowan couldn’t argue with that.

He sat in his desk chair, pulling her onto his lap as he started to eat. He only had thirty minutes before his next class came in, and he hated to say he was dreading it. As much as he loved his job, he was ready to be at home with his wife, rubbing her belly on the couch in his sweatpants.

Life was never as good to him as it was now before he met Aelin. Things weren’t bad, not at all, but he was never this happy.

Before, he used to love teaching. It was his passion and he was always one of the first into the school in the mornings and one of the very last to leave in the evening. He poured over his lesson plans at home, spent all of his spare time grading papers or homework. But now, he wanted that spare time to go to Aelin. Rather than get up at five-fifteen, and make it to school by six-thirty, he stayed in bed with Aelin as long as he could, sometimes not making it until right before the bell. Those were usually the mornings that Aelin awoke with his first alarm and scooted back into his warm embrace. And then continued to scoot until he had to get up.

She had completely consumed him, but he definitely wasn’t complaining about it. 

And soon, there would be another little person to captivate him, too.

__

It was a Saturday, and the second Rowan opened his eyes, he realized Aelin was gone. He sat up, slowly, and blinked a few times to clear his surroundings.

She was nowhere.

“Ace?” He called.

“Kitchen!” She called back.

He picked up his phone to catch the time. 9:06. Just when he was about to ask why she was already out of bed on a lazy Saturday morning, the thought hit him.

Their gender reveal party was at noon.

He was up and rushing around the corner, grabbing it for traction as he rushed into the kitchen. His wife had an eyebrow raised, her hair piled into a messy bun on her head. She wore an old shirt from his college baseball days and a pair of his sweat pants she’d claimed as her own once her belly began to get too big for her own comfy clothes to fit. She held a cup of tea in her hands, carefully blowing on it. “Good morning,” she said with a smirk.

He stood upright and leaned on the wall. “Morning, babies.”

Aelin laughed as she rubbed a loving hand over her belly. He’d begun to refer to them as one, and she thought was the cutest thing she’d ever experienced.

“Is that breakfast?” He asked, with a yawn, throwing open the fridge for the entire carton of orange juice.

“No,” she said, with a pointed finger in his direction. “This is for the party, and if you touch any of it, I will kick you in the balls.”

Rowan froze as he turned, the carton halfway to his mouth. He was just now realizing how much there was on the counter. Multiple crockpots, bags and bags of junk, and something in the oven, seeing as how it was turned on and cooking. 

“Exactly how many people are coming?” He asked, surprised.

Aelin shrugged. “Enough.”

At least they had just bought a new house and could fit a herd of people. Either way, Rowan was not a fan of large groups of people. His socially awkward nature prevented it.

Standing up in front of a class of kids? Sure. Easy.

Entertaining guests? Nope. Not his thing.

“I see that look on your face, calm down,” she said, chuckling as she meandered toward him and grabbed him by the hips. “I’ll entertain, you just make sure all the bowls I set out are constantly filled to the brim.”

Rowan grinned, leaning down to press a soft kiss against her mouth. “Alright, I can do that.”

She turned back to the counter, picking her tea back up. Rowan began pulling things out to make himself a protein shake. After blending it up, he hopped up on the counter and looked at Aelin. “What can I do to help?”

“I need you to go pick up the cake,” Aelin said, washing her mug and placing it back in the cabinet.

Rowan blinked at her. “Like the cake? Like the cake our baby is in?”

She rolled her eyes. “First of all, you’re an idiot, you know that the baby isn’t in the cake. And secondly, we’re not doing a cake reveal, remember? But we are having a cake for the party.”

Rowan frowned. “Since when are we not doing a cake reveal?”

Aelin came up between his legs and looked up at him. “Since everyone else in the world did one.”

“Then why do we need a cake?” Rowan asked.

Aelin blinked. “Are you serious?”

Rowan just cleared his throat. “Okay, I’ll get the cake. What else?”

“Hang the decorations I got because I’m short.”

Rowan chuckled as he hopped off the counter. “Fair enough.”

A loud knock came to the front door but before anyone could walk toward it, it flew open and Lysandra came flying in, plastic bags full of decor in each hand.

“Hello, mommy and daddy-to-be!” She sang, setting the bags on the counter and immediately getting to work.

“Or I guess Lysandra is going to take care of that,” Aelin chuckled.

Rowan pressed a kiss to her forehead and went to go get ready for the day while Aelin sat and talked to Lysandra. Just like Rowan, her best friend hadn’t allowed her to lift a finger throughout her pregnancy. He was just entering the bathroom when he heard Aedion enter the house and say, “Good morning, Aelin. You’re looking plump this morning.”

Thirty minutes later, Aedion was riding to the bakery with a freshly showered and shaved Rowan, having been kicked out of the house by Lysandra.

“How was I supposed to know she was going to cry?” He asked, shrugging his shoulders.

“She’s five months pregnant, man,” Rowan laughed. “Her emotions are all over the place, pretty much assume everything might make her cry right now.”

“Huh,” Aedion said, staring out the window. “The pregnant mind is one I don’t wish to understand.” 

“Me either,” Rowan muttered. “Just wait until you knock up Lysandra.”

Aedion groaned. “Yeah, that can wait.”

Rowan laughed as he drove into the parking lot of the bakery and hopped out. He ran in to pick up the biggest, most elaborate gender reveal cake. It was for a small gathering, of course, but for a handful of people, the five tier cake was a bit much.

Which was why Rowan walked ridiculously slowly, cautiously, to the back of the car. He opened the trunk and slowly slid it in.

Aedion was just staring. “No wonder Aelin didn’t want to come pick it up. I wouldn’t want to be responsible for ruining that.”

“Thanks, man,” Rowan mumbled, climbing back in the front seat.

Aedion picked up the receipt and looked at it. “Gods, that’s way too many zeros at the end for a cake.”

Rowan sighed and said, “If it makes her happy, I do whatever she asks.” Aedion smirked. He asked, “What?”

The smirk softened. “Nothing, just… I always hoped Aelin could find someone who loved her the way I love Lysandra. I just didn’t think it would be on Tinder.”

Rowan groaned. The fact that they’d met on a glorified fuck-buddy app brought Aedion a lot more joy than it should have.

“Technically,” Rowan began, “We met in the airport.”

“Yeah, you just keep telling yourself that,” Aedion said, as Rowan slowly pulled onto the road. The drive back to the house was ten minutes longer than it should have been, due to the ridiculously slow speed Rowan was driving at to keep the cake safe.

When they arrived, it was just after eleven and Lysandra was already wrapping up her intense decorating agenda. The house was draped in pink and blue streamers, banners, and little frilly things that Rowan thought were ridiculous and pointless, but he kept that thought to himself.

“Where’s Aelin?” He asked, once he and Aedion set the cake, successfully, on the island.

“Bedroom, dressing,” Lysandra said, still scowling at an exasperated Aedion.

“I’ll be back,” Rowan sighed.

He walked down the hall to their bedroom, knocking softly on the door. “Ace?” There was a quiet answer and slipped in.

She was in her closet, and when he entered the bathroom, she said, “Baby, can you help me put on my shoes? I can’t reach my feet anymore.”

He found her sitting on a small chair, her foot halfway in a sandal.

He laughed and knelt down, latching the shoe around her - honestly, very swollen - ankle and then did the same with the other. He kissed her knee then her pronounced bump, and looked up her face. “Aelin, I love you…but that cake is fucking excessive.”

She smiled. “Yes, it is.”

He rolled his eyes and stood, helping her to her feet as he went.

She was wearing a white dress, that hugged her body, highlighting the pronounced bump that grew more and more every day, and a loose, comfy cardigan. Her hair was piled on the top of her head.

He softly kissed her. “You look so beautiful.”

She smiled and wrapped her arms around him. It was becoming difficult. She sighed and said, “Are you sure I’m not looking plump?”

“Baby, he was just joking,” he chuckled, rubbing her back.

She sniffled.

“Aelin, baby, don’t cry,” he cooed.

“I don’t know why I’m crying,” she said, throwing her hands in the air, “and I don’t know why it makes me so mad that Aedion called me plump, which I am, and why I hate that my house is covered in pink and blue. I mean, pink and blue? That’s so normal, Ro, and I hate normal. Why didn’t we do purple and red? Or, shit, green and gold? I love green and gold. Pink and blue sucks, Ro.”

Rowan just stared at her as she babbled on before taking a long, deep breath. “How about this? Next week, when we start decorating the nursery, we’ll do it in green and gold. Okay? After today, you never have to look at blue or pink again.”

She wiped angrily at her nose. “Fine.”

“Fine,” he repeated, trying his hardest not to laugh. “I love you.”

She leaned up on her toes and he met halfway, pressing his lips to hers. “I love you, too.” She stepped out into the bathroom and made sure that her makeup was still intact and then said, “Let’s go see my fucking excessive cake.”

One by one, their friends showed up. Lysandra made everyone give their official guess as they came in and after everyone had arrived, it seemed the majority agreed that Aelin was correct and there would be a little heartbreaker running around soon.

Even with the pink and blue decorations, Aelin had to admit that everything was beautiful. Lysandra had done an amazing job, which she told her time and time again.

When the time came, everyone filed out into the backyard, Lysandra carrying a bat and a white box. She handed Rowan the bat and Aelin took the box, explaining that the ball inside would explode into a colorful cloud when hit. All she had to do was get it to Rowan. All he had to do was hit it.

“No pressure,” he mumbled, setting the bat down. He rolled up his sleeves, to which his friends whistled and howled, and got a few practice swings in. When he felt he could confidently hit a moving target, he got into position and nodded to Aelin.

Her grin was glorious as she threw the ball.

It was a terrible throw, but Rowan swung at it, nonetheless, and pink dust filled the air.

Everyone erupted into cheers as Aelin yelled WHAT THE FUCK, but when the cloud cleared, and Rowan caught her gaze, she was smiling at him with tears in her eyes. 

__

Rowan whistled, looking around at their living room, which was full of opened gifts. Their baby shower had been that morning - Rowan had spent it playing basketball in the park with Lorcan - and they had been spoiled.

Earlier that week, Rowan had painted the nursery gold, and it seemed that everyone who went to the shower got the hint that gold and green was the theme.

Aelin sat in the chair, her feet up on the table in front of her. She nodded. Her voice wavered as she said, “I love our people.”

He smiled softly and pressed a kiss to her forehead. He knew this wasn’t a crazy pregnancy crying. No, this was the love she felt for their friends, how blessed and overwhelmed by their own love and generosity she was.

He took her hands and helped her to her feet. “Let’s go get comfy and put together our sweet girl’s nursery.”

She groaned as she moved towards their bedroom. “I’m eight months pregnant. I don’t even remember what comfortable is anymore.”

“Just take off your pants,” he suggested, as they entered their room. “No pants equals comfort.”

She snorted. “You just like me pants-less.”

He shrugged. “It’s a perk.”

As much as she thought he was joking, she did just that, putting on a gigantic t-shirt and some fuzzy socks. In his sweatpants, Rowan followed her down to the end of the hall, to where the nursery was.

She sat in the plush rocking chair they’d bought, knowing they’d be spending quite a bit of time in nursery. Aelin quietly watched Rowan as he worked, humming a lullaby and slowly rocking in the chair. One by one, Rowan built, put together or set up everything they received from the day.

He dragged a big box towards him, puzzled. “What is this thing?”

Aelin smiled. “A cooler with a built into bluetooth speaker and charging station.”

He blinked. “And why does the baby need that?”

“The baby doesn’t, but you do.” She laughed at his shocked expression. “It’s from Aedion and Lysandra. He said it was your bro shower gift.”

Rowan opened the box and peeked inside. “Have I mentioned how much I love your cousin?”

She snorted. “He’s aware of your bromance, yes.”

Rowan grinned as he put the box in the hallway and looked around. “Anything left that has to be put together?”

Aelin shook her head, slowly. “Just stuff that has to be put away.

Rowan opened up a little gift bag and pulled out a little red, polka dotted sundress. “Are you fucking kidding me? This is tiny.”

Aelin’s grin widened. “That’s from Elide. Along with a hundred other little outfits.”

But Rowan was staring at the newborn sundress. “Aelin, this is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

She laughed. “Come with me, I’m about to blow your mind.” He raised an eyebrow and she rolled her eyes. “Not like that.”

With Rowan’s assistance getting out of the chair, she led him back down to their room. “I can’t bend over so… There’s a storage box under the bed. Put it up here.” She patted the mattress.

He did as he was told, grabbing a hold of a long, thin plastic tub, it’s lid was snapped securely in place, but it was full to bursting.

Rowan murmured, “She has more clothes than me. How does she already have more clothes than me?”

Aelin chuckled but skimmed through the small outfits, pulling a few of her favorites out. “Because Lysandra is her auntie.”

Rowan took the small blue onesie from Aelin. He held it in his hands, gazing down at it.

Aelin noticed his silence then and her smile faltered. “Baby?”

Aelin was floored when he looked up and there were tears shimmering on his face.

She hesitated, and when she spoke it was a whisper, “Gods, Are you crying?”

“No,” he said, but a tear had, in fact, fallen down his cheek. “It’s just so...small.”

She watched him, smiling softly, as he took in the little outfit. 

“The baby is going to be tiny,” he breathed. “What if I break her?”

He chuckled, brushing it off, but she could see the genuine fear in his eyes.

“You won’t, Ro, you couldn’t.” She reached up and brushed the tear from his cheek, cupping his face in her hands. “She isn’t even here yet and you’re so in love with her. You wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt her.”

He nodded, but Aelin could see the trepidation still on his face. The whole pregnancy, he’d been her rock, the one constant motivator. She knew he was so ready for this baby, that she was already so loved, but it was normal to be scared.

“I love you,” she breathed, rising up on her tiptoes to kiss him. Her belly got in the way and she groaned as she was just barely too short of his lips.

He laughed and leaned down, letting her stand back on her feet and wrapping his arms around her. “I love you, too.”

They went back to the nursery, Rowan carrying the massive tub so Aelin could begin folding them and putting them in her dresser. As he was unwrapping diapers and putting them in their designated drawer, Rowan said, “So I had an idea for a name.’

Aelin paused and turned. “Okay?’

She was having this baby in less thirty days and they had yet to find a name they agreed on. The closest they’d come was with Nora, which Aelin had decided after a day of overthinking, was that Nora was an old person's name. Rowan had said that it was classy and timeless. Nonetheless, it went into the no pile, and they continued looking.

He leaned his back on the gold wall, crossing his arms over his chest, almost like he was bracing himself for her response. “Sloan.”

Aelin tilted her head to the left slightly. “Sloan?”

He nodded. “Sloan.”

“Hmm.” She closed her eyes and repeated the name a few more times, slowly, then with their last name, just to see. At last, she opened her eyes back up to meet her husband’s gaze and said, “I like Sloan.”

Rowan hesitated. “Wait, seriously?”

She laughed, leaning back on her hands from where she sat on the floor. “Yeah, seriously. I love it.”

Rowan still was in shock that she was in favor of a name suggested by him. He was still frozen in his place along the golden wall. “You’re worrying me. Are you feeling okay? I’m calling your doctor.”

“Shut up, you prick,” she said, smiling. They’d finally decided on a name, a name they both loved, a name they both agreed upon.

He chuckled and laid down in front of where she sat, his face inches from her round stomach. “Did you hear that, Sloan? Mama just told daddy to shut up. You should kick her in the ribs for that.” Their daughter did no such thing and Aelin quietly laughed, running a hand through Rowan’s newly cropped silver hair, as he scowled at her. He pressed a kiss just above her belly button. “What about this? Can you tell her how much I love her?” Aelin took a sharp breath in through her teeth as she felt a sharp pain in her side. Rowan’s deep rumble of a laugh traveled across her skin. “That’s my girl.” He pressed another kiss to her stomach, and gazed up at Aelin through his lashes, smirking. “Won’t take orders from a man. Just like her mama.”

Aelin sighed and shook her head. “Already turning her against me.”

“She’s a daddy’s girl,” Rowan muttered, yawning as he closed his eyes. It had been a long day, and he wasn’t even the one growing a human being inside of him. When he looked up at his wife, he could see her exhaustion. “I think we’ve done enough today, mama. Let’s go to bed.”

“Mama,” she repeated, quietly, eyes shining. 

Rowan nodded, slowly, and took her hand. “One more month.”

Aelin brought Rowan’s hand to her lips as she smiled. “Yeah, one more month.”

___

“Ro.”

Rowan was having a beautiful dream, sleeping soundly, when his wife suddenly began shaking his shoulder with the wrath of a cranky, nearly full-term pregnant woman.

He groaned, opening his eyes, just barely, to look up at the alarm clock that sat on his side table. It was just after two.

“Go to bed, babe,” he mumbled. 

“No, Ro,” she said, jabbing him in the back with her knee.

“Ow, Damn,” he hissed, pushing himself up on his elbows with a sigh. “What? Are you okay?”

“No,” she breathed.

His body tensed as he reached over to turn on the lamp, and when he did, he saw Aelin sitting up, eyes wide, a dark circle spotted on their light gray bed sheet.

Rowan blinked. “What? You woke me up cause you pissed your-“

“My water broke, you asshole,” Aelin snapped.

“Oh, shit,” he muttered, eyes wide. He jumped out of bed, grabbing for the jeans he’d discarded on top of the hamper the night before. “Oh, shit!”

Aelin was breathing heavily, and clutching at her stomach. “She’s coming,” she whispered, “she’s coming, she’s coming, she’s coming.”

Rowan was there immediately, sitting on the bed in front of her, taking her hand in his and letting her squeeze as hard as she could. “What do you need me to do, baby?

“Are the bags packed?” She asked, voice tight.

He nodded. “Yes, ours are in the dining room on the way out the door and Sloan’s in the truck, with her carseat, already buckled in and ready for her.”

“You’re such a good daddy,” she breathed, face showing relief  as the pain in her abdomen subsided.

Rowan pressed a kiss to her forehead and said, “Come on, let’s get you changed and go meet our precious girl.”

A slight look of panic crossed her face, but it quickly turned to excitement and adoration. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Rowan breathed, and helped her to her feet. She kept on the oversized tee she had and Rowan helped her slip on some cozy pants and her flip flops before they were hurrying out the door.

The car ride was miserable. They got stuck at every red light along the way and the contractions quickly became stronger and closer together.

When they got to the hospital, Rowan parked as close as he could to the entrance. It helped that it was the middle of the night. After helping her to the door and into a wheelchair, Aelin was met with a nurse and then she was being wheeled away. Rowan, and their bags, just behind. 

“I feel like we forgot something,” Aelin said, as Rowan tied the back of her hospital gown and helped her into the bed.

“We talked about this,” Rowan began, pulling a chair up close to the side, “Fleetfoot isn’t allowed in the hospital, Ace.”

She chuckled, but the gesture was quickly replaced with a contorted look of pain.

“Breathe,” the nurse whispered, calmly, as she finished hooking Aelin up to a series of machines. One took blood pressure, one kept track of the contractions, one monitored her heartbeat, another monitored the baby’s.

Looking at all of the machines gave Rowan a headache.

“How far apart are your contractions, dear?” The nurse asked, taking notes on her chart.

“About eleven minutes apart, but my water broke,” Aelin said, resting back in the bed, trying to get comfortable while she still could.

She smiled and said, “Not uncommon for a first time mom. We’ll keep an eye on it, but for now, why don’t you try and get some more sleep.”

“Sleep?” Aelin asked, her eyebrows raising. “I can’t sleep right now, I’m having a baby. I want my epidural and to push her out.”

The nurse, a sweet-looking older woman named Alis, laughed softly. “Sorry, hon. You can’t get an epidural until your contractions are about five minutes apart. Just relax and we’ll come check on you in a little bit.”

Alis left and Aelin stared after her. “I can’t sleep,” she mumbled, looking at Rowan. “How does she expect me to sleep? I’m about to shove our daughter out of my vag.”

“Great visual, babe,” he sighed, sitting next to her and taking her hand with his free one. His phone was in his other. “Here it is,” he began reading. “In the early stages of labor, mothers-to-be are encouraged to rest and relax. If labor begins at night, it's best to try and go back to sleep until contractions have increased to require all of your focus.”

“Fabulous,” Aelin mumbled. “Can I have my phone?”

“Sure, baby, where is it?” He asked, reaching for her purse.

She looked at him. “I thought you had it.”

Rowan’s brows furrowed. “Why would I have had your phone?”

Aelin’s eyes narrowed. “Because I asked you to grab it on the way out the door when you went back for your tablet.”

Rowan didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. His eyes said enough: Ohhh shit.

She let her head fall back against the pillows and closed her eyes, settling back and trying to get comfy. “I knew we forgot something.”

“I’ll ask Aedion and Lysandra to get it on the way.” He yawned and leaned back in the chair, pulling the ball cap covering his messy, silver hair lower over his eyes.

It was quiet for a minute and then Rowan said, already dozing off, “If you don’t have your phone, I assume that means you haven’t told anyone she’s on the way?”

Aelin replied, “Nope.”

He re-situated his hat and pulled out his phone. Since things didn’t seem to be progressing too quickly, he sent a quick text to their friends, not wanting to call and wake everyone. Save for one person: Lysandra.

Thirty seconds later, Rowan’s phone was ringing. With a sigh, he answered. “Hell-.”

“You didn’t call me on the way to the hospital?!” Lysandra’s loud voice came through to his ear.

“Sorry, I was a little busy trying to get my wife to the hospital,” Rowan said, yawning. “Nothing’s happened yet, don’t worry, I’ll call when things pick up. Her water broke and now she’s being told to go back to sleep.”

“Which I can’t do and my husband forgot my phone!” Aelin said, loudly, obviously frustrated.

There was a second of silence on the other end before Lysandra said, “Seriously? You didn’t grab her phone?”

“Don’t worry, she’s giving me a look that is equivalent to being stabbed, I’m being punished,” Rowan muttered.

“Let me talk to her.”

Rowan held out his phone without any hesitation. He heard Lysandra rattle off a series of questions and Aelin silently nodded along to each, softly biting the side of her finger. It was a nervous ‘twitch’ she’d picked up in the past few months and couldn’t seem to break it when she was thinking. “Okay, I got it. You know where the spare key is and I’ll send you the rest.” He heard Lysandra saying something else and Aelin’s eyes flicked over to him. “I haven't decided yet. I’ll let you know. Love you.” Lysandra replied and then Aelin ended the call, handing the phone back to Rowan.

He had an eyebrow raised, and though every instinct in his body instinct told him not to, he asked, “Decided what?”

She pouted her lips slightly and was about to reply when another contraction began. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, holy shit.”

He was up, his phone forgotten on the side table, and he took her hand. “Breathe, baby. Just breathe through it.”

“I’m deciding,” she said, through her teeth, “if I’m having Lysandra pick something up from Starbucks for you on the way here, or just me.”

He raised his eyebrows, rubbing soothing circles in her back with his free hand, but he said, “That’s cold, baby.”

“Well you forgot your pregnant wife’s phone on the way to give birth to your daughter,” she said, finally remembering to do the breathing exercises they’d learned.

Rowan sighed and said, “That’s fair.”

Aelin ended up having Lys get Rowan his coffee, too. They were even able to get a couple more hours sleep between the contractions, but when Lysandra blew threw the door at five-thirty, a bleary-eyed Aedion behind her, they were both up and Rowan was eating a sad, cold, hospital cafeteria breakfast.

“Oh, bless your hearts, thank the gods I brought real food.” She held up a bag from Aelin’s favorite bakery.

“Chocolate croissants?” Aelin asked, her eyes going wide.

“And they’re still warm, haven’t even been out of the oven for ten minutes,” Lysandra said, handing her the bag. With the other hand she extended her phone.

Aelin snatched both. Rowan knew better than to ask for a croissant. Lysandra held up a cup of coffee to him, her emerald eyes narrowed. “In your defense, she had left it in under the blankets in the bed.”

Aelin was sniffing the croissant as the door swung open, once again, and Alis came in, cheerily asking, “Good morning!” 

“Good morning,” Aelin groaned. “When can we get this thing out of me?”

It had quickly turned from my daughter to this thing as the morning went on.

“I’m going to check where you’re at, and we’ll see,” she smiled. 

Alis eyed the coffee and bag of goodies as she approached, but before she could say anything, Aelin said, “Don’t worry, they’re just for smell. I’m waiting to eat them after baby gets here...which will be soon, right?”

Aedion had made himself scarce the moment Alis ordered Aelin to put her feet up, but Lysandra was sitting on the edge of the bed. Rowan was still eating his shitty cafeteria waffle as Alis checked where Aelin was at. Five minutes later, the nurse was tossing her gloves into the trash and washing her hands.

“I believe your baby girl will be here sometime this afternoon,” she smiled, hands on her hips. “I’ll be in to give you the epidural in a few hours. Until then, continue to relax as much as possible. I’ll bring in more ice chips for you to munch on while you sniff your baked goods.”

She left and Aelin groaned as she let her head fall back into the pillows. “After noon,” she said, making sure the words were separated. “As in after twelve pm, which is still seven hours away.”

Lys patted her hand. “It could be sooner. She might decide she’s ready to be here now.”

Aelin turned and looked at her best friend, a look in her eyes that she hadn’t seen since they were in middle school and beating the shit out of each other in the girl’s locker room. They’d been inseparable ever since. “That would be horrible, too. Because then I wouldn’t get my epidural and I’d be in even more pain.”

Aedion said from the couch, mouth full, “She’ll get here in the perfect amount of time that you get your drugs and you aren’t in labor for two days.”

Aelin looked at him. “What are you eating.”

Aedion crumpled up the wax paper bag it had been in, trying to obscure the chocolate within. “Nothing.”

Aelin’s voice was like ice. “If I wasn’t due for a contraction any minute now, I’d punch you right in the dick.”

The room got silent and then Rowan’s phone rang. He glanced at it. “It’s Lorcan, babe, I need to get it.”

“Go,” she said, smiling wickedly. “Aedion can help me.” She held out her hand, waiting for his to squeeze.

Rowan patted his back as he walked by. “Hope that croissant was worth it.”

He answered as he stepped out into the hall. “Hey, man.”

Lorcan asked, “Your wife push out your demon spawn yet?”

Rowan rolled his eyes. “No, she’s still a few hours away from her epidural and a while from pushing.”

Lorcan’s response was simple. “Gross. Hey, is your substitute giving your finals?”

He sighed, “I would assume, Lor, since they start on Wednesday, and my wife is giving birth to our daughter right now.”

“Fair enough,” Lorcan said. “Elide will be coming by at some point to see Aelin, and I’ll come by after classes end.”

“That’s probably about when she’ll be here, so make sure you call Lysandra first. I might be a little busy,” Rowan laughed.

Lorcan snorted, “Why? It’s not like you’ll be doing any of the hard work. You did your part nine months ago, when you nutted inside of-.”

Probably louder than he should have, in a hospital wing just after sunrise, Rowan said, “Goodbye, Lorcan,” and hung up the phone.

Considering how his best friend usually spoke, Rowan had to admit that the conversation had actually been pretty tame. I’m fact, he was pretty sure that was Lorcan being sweet and caring. Which is why, once he opened the door to Aelin’s room, Rowan said, “Lorcan said good luck.”

Aelin, next to Aedion who was rubbing his now-sore hand, blinked. “Are you sure? That’s uncharacteristic of him.”

“He also says that Elide will come by soon.”

“That sounds more accurate,” Aelin said, then yawned. “Can you at least go get me some magazines or something? I’m bored as hell and hurting like shit.”

His stomach grumbled and he said, “I’m absolutely starving, so what if I go grab some food that doesn’t look like it could come to life and eat me instead, and I’ll pick up that new book you’ve been wanting?”

“You mean you’re going to leave?” Her eyes went wide, filling with tears.

He was instantly by her side, her face in his hands. “I won’t, I don’t have to. I can eat the radioactive cafeteria food and run down to the gift shop for the magazines. I was just going to run to the Walmart that has a McDonalds in it down the road. Two birds, one stone.”

Her eyes were still panicked and Lysandra, hearing Rowan’s stomach growl ferociously again, said, “Ro, why don’t you run down to grab some magazines, and Aedion will go get you food and the book for Aelin?”

It was less of a question and more of a “Get your asses in gear, this is what we’re doing” statement, and with Aelin’s sniffling nod of confirmation. The men were off, Rowan coming back with a few magazines and the sweetest stuffed animal that Aelin had ever seen.

“What is that?” she laughed, eating another bite of ice chips.

Rowan sheepishly held the white ball of fluff in his hands. “I realized that when we were packing her bag, we didn’t bring her anything but clothes and diapers and the essential stuff. And I know she has tons at home, but... I wanted to give her her first stuffed animal, as her daddy, so…”

Aelin’s eyes were rimmed with tears as she said, “Can I see?”

His cheeks burned. “I didn’t have many great options, they’re doing a remodel down there, so… The White-Tailed Hawk was the highlighted animal of the month.” He held the soft bird out to her.

Aelin huffed a laugh as she took the bird into her hands and ran her fingers over the soft fur. “It’s perfect.”

She clung to that stuffed animal for the next few hours as Rowan ate his McDonalds. The book, however, had to wait, because by the time Aedion got back with everything, the contractions were brutal. 

At least Rowan had finished his egg McMuffin before they pulled out the longest needle he had ever seen, making him lightheaded.

He nearly fainted when they stuck that needle into Aelin’s back.

It wasn’t much longer that she grew numb from the waist down, and not too much longer after that she felt the slightest bit of pressure, letting Alis know that the baby was wanting to make her grand appearance into the world. 

Lysandra, much to her disappointment, was told she had to leave while Rowan remained, holding her hand as she began to push. 

“You’re doing so good,” Rowan whispered, five minutes in. “I’m so fucking proud of you.”

Aelin closed her eyes and pressed her sweaty forehead against his, just as she started to push again.

They had both heard horror stories of women who had to push for hours and hours and hours. Thankfully, Aelin was not one of them, because half an hour after the first push, a soft cry filled the silent room.

“She’s here, baby, she’s here.” There were tears streaming down Rowan Whitethorn’s face as the doctors placed the small, wailing infant on Aelin’s chest. The cries quieted almost immediately and he kissed her head. “I love you so much. You did so amazing, Ace.”

Aelin was crying, looking down into the perfect face of her daughter. “Hello, beautiful girl. We’ve been waiting for you.”

Rowan laughed quietly, though even Aelin admitted that it sounded closer to a sob.

————

About an hour later, a quiet knock came from the door. Rowan opened the door to find Lysandra and Aedion waiting.

All it took was one smile from Rowan and Lysandra began to cry, throwing her arms around him. “Congratulations.”

He hugged her back, trying his best not to tear up again himself. “Thank you. Come meet her.”

After a quick hug from Aedion, Rowan led them into the room, where Aelin, fresh faced and hair in a messy bun on the top of her head, sat in the bed, gazing adoringly at the small bundle in her arms.

“Do you want to meet Auntie Lys and Uncle Aedion?” She cooed down at her daughter.

Sloan was sleeping, but it didn’t stop Lysandra from pressing her lips against the newborn's head, where a striped knit hat was pulled over her tufts of golden hair. 

“Meet Sloan Elia Whitethorn,” Aelin said, quietly, brushing her finger over Sloan's soft cheek.

“She’s beautiful,” Lysandra whispered, and the moment Aelin asked if she wanted to hold her, Lysandra was crying again.

Rowan watched the entire scene play out from just inside of the door, leaning up against the wall. His wife, holding his baby girl. His friends, family, admiring their little creation. There was nothing like it. He had never imagined life could be so perfect, so joyful. He had never imagined he could love someone, two someones, so much.

And to think, he owed it all to a fucking dating app and an absurdly long layover at the airport.

He was so damn happy he swiped right.

[cyhyr]

Whumpmas In July: Hope

Fandom: Naruto

Rating: E

Pairing: Hatake Kakashi/Umino Iruka

WC: ~7040

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Notes: Hospitalization, Mental Health Issues, Dissociation, Therapy, Making Up, Communication, Heavy Conversations, Angst, Triggers, Recovery, Frottage, Rimming, Safewords

A/N: Remember how I'm garbage at interpreting prompts? The vibe of Hope is there. But it's not... explicitly stated? This is just a little bit of plot. And a lot of filth.

A/N2: Terminal lucidity is a thing for coma patients; but it's SUPER rare. I am, however, making the shit up about dissociation, if that's not how it works. I just wanna write a fun story where I put this guy through as much pain as possible; and I only ever give myself three days to write these stories and that does not leave time for research. I apologize in advance.

Follow-up to “Secret”

For @whumpmasinjuly prompt list

Read on The Archive

~

Kakashi has time built up. He hasn’t taken time for himself since Rin—oh, but anyway—and so he’s able to wait. And wait. He stays in the village, walking around during the day and hanging in one specific tree outside the hospital at night.

In the dim light of the early morning, Kakashi crouches outside the window of Iruka’s hospital room and watches over him as he sleeps. Once he brought Iruka back to the village, Tomi-sensei admitted him for inpatient care. She promised to oversee his care personally, and reported directly to Tsunade morning and night.

It’s been almost a week.

…

Kakashi watched Iruka stumble back from Mizuki, hands dripping blood into the floor. The kunai drops with an echoing thud to the floor—

Followed by Iruka, dropping hard to his knees.

Kakashi skidded in behind him and clutched him, back to his chest. The pack whined and yipped around him and he couldn’t care because Iruka was under again and there’s no reason for it.

“Love? Iruka, please, talk to me.”

“Boss—”

“No, Urushi,” he snapped. He turned Iruka in his lap, cradled him in the crook of one arm and braced him against his knee. “Iruka, please,” he begged, shaking him gently.

“Bull, Bisuke, Shiba—get the doc and bring her in here,” Pakkun barked.

Kakashi fell back on his heels and pulled Iruka into his lap, ever closer. “Iruka, tell me what you need, please.”

Iruka’s eyes were distant and unfocused, his breath coming in soft pants. He was limp in Kakashi’s arms, a soft weight on his thighs.

The door opened and a high-pitched gasp caught his attention. Kakashi turned to face Rikona as she stepped closer, three of the pack herding her along with bared teeth.

“What’s happening to him?” he growled.

Rikona crossed the cabin, knelt beside him, and hovered her fingertips over Iruka’s neck. “I…”

“Do your fucking job,” he hissed.

She checked his pulse, held fingers in front of his open mouth, and tipped his chin up to look in his eyes. She frowned. “Why is he bloody?”

“Look behind you.”

Rikona did, and choked on a scream.

Kakashi held back a smirk. She still hadn’t told him how this could have happened.

“Mi-Mizu—”

“We don’t care about the dead rapist,” Kakashi seethed. “What happened to Iruka? Why is he under???”

“Dissociation, especially in Iruka-sensei’s case, is a defensive response,” Rikona answers quickly. “The mind can’t handle current events, and as such it just. Turns off. Sometimes learned behaviors can be conditioned during these times, as they… seem to have been, with him. B-but mostly he’s just… overwhelmed.”

“So he’ll wake up in a little bit?”

“I don’t… I don’t know. He’s been slipping under too much lately, and having been forced under just tonight… I swear, Hatake-san, I didn’t know—”

“You think I give a fuck about your apologies right now???” Kakashi snapped. In his arms, Iruka flinched hard, and tears started welling up in the corners of his eyes. “Shit, Love, no, please, not you, not you,” he whispered quickly, rocking them both back and forth, petting Iruka’s hair and kissing his forehead, his eyelids, his cheeks. “Everything’s alright, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

“Bring him to Tomi-sensei,” Rikona said softly, gently; she didn’t seem to want to invoke a negative response in either of them. “She knows about his episodes, she can design a treatment program for him.”

“What, and leave you here?”

“I plan to turn myself in,” Rikona reiterated.

“Forgive me if I can’t trust you,” Kakashi gritted. “Pack, two to the Hokage to report the incident, the rest escort her to T&I.” He gathered Iruka into his arms, sliding his arm under his knees and pressing his way up to standing. Bull came behind him to brace him as he stood. “Thanks,” he muttered down at him once he was on his feet.

Pakkun shook his head. “Go. Get Iruka-Boss to the hospital. We’ll check in when we can.”

Kakashi flickered away through a smashed window. With Iruka tucked against him, he flew through the trees back to the village.

(He doesn’t remember crying.)

(He doubts he made it the whole way without shedding at least one tear.)

…

Tomi-sensei says he’s making progress. Tsunade tells him that she won’t let Iruka stay under forever; that she’ll find a way to bring him back.

Kakashi watches Iruka open his eyes, still glassy and unfocused. He leaves the tree once his nurse comes in to help Iruka get cleaned up and fed.

He’s so tired.

~

Rikona doesn’t get a trial. Once before them, she admits to everything before the Counsel and the Hokage.

It doesn’t stop Kakashi from catching up to the ANBU team escorting her to prison and asking for a few minutes alone with her.

And if she needs Otter to heal her arm from the multiple fractures she sustains after that meeting… and if Otter messes up their jutsu enough that the fractures don’t all heal correctly… and if Rikona never regains full range of motion for her arm…

Well. They can’t pin that on Kakashi.

The ANBU team never saw him.

And he was also seen sparring with Gai at the time.

~

He’s stepping over Bull to get to the living room, watering can in hand. When Iruka comes home, his plants will be perfect. The whole pack is lounging around the room; Iruka would love having his house so full.

He finishes watering one plant, and a knock comes at the front door. Kakashi glares down at all the ninken and says, “What, no warning?”

“It’s just a messenger,” Shiba groans.

Kakashi goes to the door and presses his palm to the wood to undo the seals. When he opens the door, a genin messenger stands on the porch.

He bows. “Hatake-san. Tomi-sensei has asked that you come to the hospital.”

Kakashi nods, projecting calm for the genin, and shuts the door.

The calm, of course, was a façade. “PACK, DISPERSE.” He throws his feet into his sandals and feels the pull on his chakra from the ninken release as they all leave. He slips his vest and hitai-ate on, resets the wards, and takes off out the kitchen window—the one that faces in the direction of the hospital.

He’s across the village and launching himself through the window beside the admission desk on the third floor mental health unit in minutes. Aiko-chan startles at his palms slamming down on her desk, but she smiles and points to the hallway leading to Tomi-sensei’s office. He passes the few people in the waiting room, not quite running anymore, not while he’s inside the hospital, and stops in front of Tomi-sensei’s door

He knocks.

“Come in.”

The door creaks softly as he pushes it open. He’s spent so much time in this office over the last week, discussing treatment options and hearing how much progress Iruka seems to be making. He doesn’t want to step foot in a hospital again after he gets Iruka home.

Tomi-sensei smiles when she catches his eye. He barely spares her a glance before he’s falling to his knees in front of one of the two other chairs on the other side of her desk, placing one hand on the arm of the chair and reaching the other up, hesitantly, to cup Iruka’s cheek.

“Hello, Love,” Iruka says, his voice soft and weak.

Kakashi’s voice is just as soft, and he desperately holds back the urge to cry. “You’re okay?”

Iruka shakes his head. “Definitely not. I… I killed him, Kakashi.”

“Rikona’s in prison.”

“And she tricked—!”

“Gods, I’m sorry,” Kakashi shoves his head into Iruka’s chest, the hospital scrubs too clean and smelling of bleach and it’s overriding Iruka’s own scent—the scent he’d lost, fuck—and that just can’t stand. He reaches one hand around Iruka’s back and slides it up and under the back of his shirt, to feel warm skin on his palm, and he leans up and nuzzles into Iruka’s neck and oh there he is.

Iruka

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Iruka says, guiding him closer with a hand on the back of his head. “This. It’s just another hurdle.”

“It’s a big fucking hurdle.”

Iruka shakes with silent, humming laughter. “Still. I’m here, Kakashi.”

“I—”

Tomi-sensei clears her throat softly, interrupting them. “Hatake-san, he’ll need to stay under surveillance for at least two more days, to be sure this resurfacing isn’t terminal lucidity.”

“Terminal…?” He pulls out of Iruka’s neck and looks at her. “What is that?”

“Similar to a coma patient,” Tomi starts. “There are cases wherein a coma patient wakes up, feels perfectly fine for a few hours or a day or two, and then dies anyway. In a similar fashion, we’re understandably concerned for Iruka-sensei’s mental state; that this might be like one final gasp before he dissociates permanently.”

Kakashi turns back to Iruka and leans in again. He slips his hitai-ate off, and presses his temple against Iruka’s chest to hear his heartbeat. Iruka holds his hitai-ate for him, and holds him, and the thought that he could lose this for good settles in his gut and—and—

One tear falls from each eye; his own, and Obito’s.

~

Kakashi stays just outside the hospital, in the same tree beside Iruka’s window, for two more days. Tomi-sensei lets him visit during the day, and he does and he keeps Iruka company; she says that physical contact could help Iruka remain present. He holds Iruka’s hands and presses kisses to whatever skin he’s allowed and helps him go through his sensory exercises every hour and a half. The kitchen sends up a second lunch and dinner for him so he can eat beside Iruka, and when Iruka eyes his gelatin he gladly gives it up in exchange for a kiss.

And then when visiting hours are over and Iruka has to go to sleep, Kakashi kisses him one last time and jumps out the window. He pretends, for Iruka’s sake, to go home; he really just hides up on the roof for an hour and then goes down to the tree and waits for morning.

If something were to happen…

But the two days of surveillance pass without a hitch and when he comes in on the third day, after having run home for a shower and clean blacks, Iruka is eating breakfast with a wide smile and a fresh uniform laid out on the chair beside his bed.

“Hello, Love,” Kakashi says, grinning back. “Good news?”

“Tsunade-sama just left,” Iruka says through a mouthful of rice. He swallows. “I still need a month of leave at least, but I’m cleared to move to outpatient care.” He motions to the uniform, “Shizune-san brought me a new uniform; the one you brought me in with was… um.”

“Unsalvageable.”

“Yes.”

“I would have burned it if they tried to give it back to you.”

Iruka chuckles. “You’re sweet.”

Kakashi shrugs. “You don’t need that kind of reminder soaked into your clothes.”

“Even if they’ve been cleaned?”

“Iruka. You would still know.”

He smiles into his lap. “That’s true. You understand me so well.”

“I love you,” Kakashi sighs. “Understanding comes with the territory.”

Iruka’s blush is gorgeous. “I love you, too.”

“Do you know your therapy schedule?”

“No. Tomi-sensei is scheduled to be here in—um—ten minutes. She’s gonna give me discharge papers and go over a therapy schedule then.”

“Want me to help you get dressed?”

“After I finish eating.”

~

Kakashi sets the paper bag of prescription bottles on the table in the genkan and offers his hand to Iruka to help him balance so he can toe out of his sandals. One of the side-effects of the medications he’s taking to help keep the dissociation at bay and his mood stable is vertigo.

(Iruka had asked if Kakashi could wait until the lunch hour, when everyone is busy with meals and meetings—and he blushed and stammered all the while he tried to get the words out but finally he muttered, “Could you just… carry me? I can’t—I don’t wanna trip the whole way home…”

“Always.”)

Vests, hitai-ate, wrappings, gloves, most weapons; all get set in their place in the genkan. And then he leads Iruka to the kitchen and sits him down at the table, holding out his arms on either side of Iruka’s shoulders for a moment. “Alright?”

Iruka hasn’t stopped grinning since they left the hospital. “I’m fine, Kakashi.”

He slowly lowers his arms. “Tea?”

“Something weak, please.” Iruka lays his head down on his arms, on the tabletop, and Kakashi feels his eyes tracking him across the kitchen as he moves about. Water in the kettle, kettle on the stove, tea tins out of the cabinet; cups, honey, a spoon; the diffuser of a puppy with its paws curved in such a way that when he puts it on the edge of the cup it’ll hang there while the tea steeps.

After quiet minutes pass and the kettle whistles, Kakashi puts a cup of herbal tea in front of him, the puppy diffuser facing Iruka. He slides the honey closer in case he wants some, but he specifically wants it weak. Iruka takes the diffuser out of the tea a minute later, as Kakashi is placing a plate of crackers on the table within easy reach.

“Not hungry,” Iruka says, cupping his fingers around the tea and inhaling the light floral scent.

“That’s the medication talking,” Kakashi points out. “You should eat. Even just two bites.”

Iruka takes a cracker and nibbles at it. He lifts his head enough to take a sip of tea.

“Love, I… I know I should wait.”

“Kakashi?”

“But I need to know,” Kakashi reaches across the table to link their fingers together. “When you were… dreaming.”

Iruka goes pale, and Kakashi knows.

“It wasn’t Sato, was it?”

His voice is small and reserved. “No. No it wasn’t.”

“And Tsunade-sama said you had received correspondence from Mizuki. Before I came home.”

“I did. Rikona-sensei made it look like it came from the prison, but it wasn’t.”

“But it was his words, and his handwriting.”

“Yes.”

“And you… you hid it from me. You lied to me.”

“I… yes. I did. Kakashi—”

“Why?” He’s trying so hard to keep his voice from going cold, but the anger is rising and Iruka needs to have a good reason, please, gods let him have a good reason.

Iruka puts his head back down on his arms. He looks so tired. He should have waited, but he needs to know. “Tomi-sensei said it’s a thing that… that the abused tend to do.”

Kakashi’s heart stops. Iruka’s never… never referred to Mizuki as abusive, never let Kakashi say it either. He waits for Iruka to continue, and continue he does.

“It’s an ingrained habit; a learned behavior. One that I never… I never unlearned,” Iruka sighs lightly. “The habit to protect him. To shrug off his behavior. To try and… and explain it away, even if only to myself.”

“You were protecting—”

“You’ve expressed a constant desire to kill him. In that exact moment, yes, all I could think about was how do I keep one lover from killing the previous one. That he used to… to—”

Iruka stumbles to his feet and trips over himself to the sink, braces his arms on the counter, and breathes harshly. “He-he… oh gods, I fucking let him do this to me and—”

“Iruka, deep breaths,” Kakashi comes up behind him and places his hand on Iruka’s belly. “Push my hand out, that’s it. Deeper, slower now. I’m sorry, I know this isn’t the time for this conversation—”

“He raped me. He used to even wh-when Naruto was in the next room,” Iruka cries. “He threatened to hurt Naruto, and I gave him myself instead. I gave him everything! And he still. He still. Gods, Kakashi, I killed him. He’s gone. Why don’t I feel… I don’t know, lighter?”

“You still killed, Iruka,” Kakashi says. He keeps his tone low, soothing, pressing his chest along the length of Iruka’s back, stroking Iruka’s belly through his shirt. “You killed him, but you… you loved him, once. That. That’s going to hurt.”

It hurts to say it out loud. That Iruka had once loved that bastard. But, gods, it’s true, isn’t it.

“I wanted to protect him,” Iruka sniffles. “I never wanted you to… I didn’t think it would get this bad. I thought I just needed to sleep it off, that once I got some sleep, I could burn the note and everything would just. Be okay. And then the second letter came—”

“The one Rikona forged, the request.” Kakashi barely held back the growl.

Iruka nods. Kakashi can feel his stomach clench under his palm; he nudges Iruka just a little further over the sink. “And I just. I was slipping. So I went to see her, because it seemed like the thing to do. Because she was supposed to be part of my support system. Because you were already leaving again for another mission and I didn’t want to bother you—”

“You are never a bother, Love,” Kakashi kisses his cheek.

“I just wanted to know how he found me. I didn’t want him dead. I didn’t want to kill him,” Iruka cries harder, tears dripping into the sink. “Gods, Kakashi, I never wanted him dead. He betrayed the village, he hurt Naruto, he—he deserved to live with what he’d done.”

“I know,” Kakashi says; he doesn’t understand, but he knows that that’s Iruka’s position.

“But he leveled that kunai at you and I—I was so far under if it had been anyone else I probably wouldn’t have come back.” Iruka wipes at his face with the back of his hand, takes in a shaky breath. “I’m sorry for lying. I was going to tell you. I just needed to sleep, first.”

“I would have investigated it for you.”

“I wouldn’t have wanted you to,” Iruka shakes his head. “I just wanted you to stay with me. I meant what I said in Rikona’s office. I need you as that steady, sturdy place I can fall when life goes to shit.”

“Still. Iruka, I just wanted to help.”

“You would have tried to kill him.”

Kakashi says nothing to that.

“I couldn’t… can’t. I don’t know—” Iruka shivers against him, and Kakashi hugs him close and rocks them back and forth gently. His hands come up and hold onto Kakashi’s arms, and Kakashi buries his face in Iruka’s neck. “I remember,” Iruka starts slowly, “when we were teenagers, my jōnin-sensei asked about the bruises on my neck, my wrists, m-my hips, once when we went to an onsen. And I remember telling her that my boyfriend and I just like it rough. And she was. She was so upset.”

“There were many people who were aware of what was happening,” Kakashi says slowly, “but we couldn’t do anything unless you spoke up, or we caught him in the act. And your apartment was always perfectly sealed.”

Iruka freezes. “You. You knew?”

“I was never on those squads,” Kakashi says, now leading Iruka by the hands to the living room, so they could sit back down. “I only heard about it from Sandaime, and from the ANBU locker room. The old man had squads watching over you on nights Mizuki would stay over.”

“How many… how many people know?”

“Iruka.”

“How many?”

“There were only ever the two squads, that I knew about,” Kakashi sighs, bringing Iruka to sit on the couch. “Of those, half are dead. Two are retired. The other two are still active. They were usually really good about only talking about it when they were alone, but I walked in on their conversations a few times. I’m sure others did, too.”

Iruka leans his head in his palms, his elbows on his knees.

Kakashi rubs his back. “Love, I had an idea of what I was getting into. And I decided that you were worth it anyway.”

Iruka makes a soft, keening sound. “Sap.”

“I keep choosing you, every day, after every trial we go through. And I fully intend to keep choosing you for a long time.”

“Oh gods, Kakashi, you can’t just say that.”

“I forgive you for lying,” Kakashi says, shifting closer and nuzzling Iruka’s hair. “Just don’t ever keep stuff like that from me again, please.”

Iruka leans into him, removing his hands from his face. He looks up at Kakashi and those eyes are glistening with tears still unshed and it hurts Kakashi’s heart to see him cry, so he carefully brushes the tears back and strokes his fingers down the side of Iruka’s face. And… it’s been long enough, hasn’t it?

“Gods, Iruka,” Kakashi murmurs, “You…”

He smiles softly and the room warms and Kakashi’s breath hitches.

“Me?” Iruka asks.

Kakashi pulls Iruka up to lay on his chest, holding him close. He pushes Iruka’s bangs back—they’d fallen out of the low tie at the back of his neck. It’s been two months, and he knows that he could fuck this up if he’s not really ready for this, but gorgeous and striking and handsome just don’t cut it and he needs—he needs—

“You’re so beautiful,” Kakashi whispers.

And his heart picks up, but Iruka stays in front of him and even grips him tighter.

~

Part of the therapy schedule includes a couple’s therapy session and Kakashi hates it, but for Iruka he goes. And once he’s there he just… zones out.

He watches the window; the trees waving in the wind outside. He holds Iruka’s hand and lets him talk and field all the questions and when their hour is up he stands and follows Iruka out. Iruka doesn’t seem upset at his lack of desire to participate, just… resigned.

It happens twice.

The third time, Kakashi tries. He pays attention.

The therapist—Osamu-sensei—asks if they’ve decorated the upstairs, what is to be Naruto’s room when he returns from training with Jiraiya. Iruka looks embarrassed for a moment, like he doesn’t want to answer.

“We’re waiting for Naruto to come home,” Kakashi says, “so he can pick out his own furnishings.”

It startles both Iruka and Osamu-sensei, but the therapist brightens up immediately. “You think of Iruka-sensei’s house as home, too, then?”

“I… well, I think of Iruka as home,” Kakashi admits. This is therapy. If he can’t admit it here, then where?

Iruka blushes a deep red, so very fetching with his eyes.

“And, Iruka-sensei, your response?”

“That’s. Um. Honestly, I just hadn’t had the time. It’s only been about a month since I moved and we’ve not heard from Naruto in… a while. So. I figure we have time.”

Osamu-sensei nods. “Looking at the future, then. Both of you.” He makes a scribble. “I’m very happy you’ve joined the conversation, Kakashi-san.”

“Maa… it’s to help Iruka, so,” he shrugs, and he hopes it comes off as nonchalant.

“Even if that’s your motivation, we’re glad to have you.”

The session goes by faster after that.

~

And Iruka’s happier when they get home, so much happier. Three weeks on the medication and he’s adjusted to most of the side-effects, even if the full effect of the mood stabilizers won’t occur for another two or three weeks. They get inside and strip off vests, wrappings, hitai-ate, sandals—and once they’re down to their uniform blacks Iruka takes his hands and leads him to the bedroom.

“Can I—?”

“Are you ready for this?” Kakashi interrupts him, stopping them just in the doorway.

Iruka presses his palms to Kakashi’s chest and grins. “Are you going to let a dead man stop me from stripping for you?”

Kakashi groans. “I’m trying to be a good person. I’m trying. So hard. To be what you need to recover.”

Iruka backs up into the bedroom, pulling his shirt up and over his head. He throws the shirt at Kakashi's face and says, “Yes, I know. So, so hard.”

Kakashi catches the shirt and pulls it away, to watch as Iruka continues by unbuttoning his trousers and slowly lowering the zip. His mouth goes dry.

“Kakashi, I want you,” Iruka says, shimmying out of his trousers, kicking them aside, and then he’s standing in front of the bed—their bed, in all but name, gods—in his boxers and sticking his thumbs in the elastic and pulling down, down, down…

“Iruka. Please. Please don’t tease—”

“Who said I’m teasing? Don’t you want me, too?”

“Fuck, yes.”

“Then why are you still in the doorway?”

He’s not, not for long. He tears his own shirt off over his head as he stalks forward, tossing it carelessly aside and then reaching for Iruka, Iruka, bare and bronze and warm, and skimming his fingertips over chest, waist, arms, abs—

“Kakashi, please,” Iruka whimpers, his own arms coming up and encircling his neck.

“Ask. Whatever you want, Love, it’s yours,” he murmurs.

“Kiss me.”

He does, oh he does. Kakashi catches Iruka’s lips in his teeth and moves their mouths together gently to find a rhythm of kisses and licking and breathing, designed to overwhelm Iruka with sensation and keep him here. The most precious sounds escape his throat, soft moans and sighs as he trails his hands over Kakashi’s shoulders and down his chest. Kakashi reaches down with both hands and cups Iruka’s ass, groaning deep in his chest as he squeezes each cheek.

“Hold on,” he mutters against Iruka’s lips. His arms tighten around his neck, and then Kakashi lifts Iruka, his weight full in his hands and the plush warmth of his ass spilling from between his fingers. Iruka swings his legs around Kakashi’s waist and Kakashi groans into their kiss to feel the flex and stretch of muscle under his palms. He steps closer to the bed, turns, and sits down with Iruka on his lap.

They’re both hard. He needs to remove layers. Shit, he should have taken his trousers off first.

Iruka’s still kissing him, fingers in his hair and teeth biting at his mouth; his hips, at the same time, are rocking slowly across his thighs and he’s driving Kakashi crazy. He shifts back along the bedspread, keeping Iruka attached to him at the hips. And then Iruka puts a hand in the center of his chest and gently pushes, and Kakashi falls first to his elbows, and then all the way to his back.

He grabs Iruka’s hips, flexes his own, and shifts them fully onto the bed. Iruka groans at the movement, bracing his hands on Kakashi’s shoulders. He looms over Kakashi, and smiles down at him.

It’s perfect.

Iruka grinds back against Kakashi’s cock and it’s heaven and hell at the same time. “Love you,” Kakashi rambles breathlessly. “Fucking sexy, riding me like this, gods Iruka you look perfect—love you, love you, love you.”

“Kakashi—oh—”

He bites his lip and tosses his head back, frotting faster and harder and Kakashi gets his hands back on where they belong, pulls him closer and tighter and relishes the loud moan he receives.

“Gods among us, Iruka, your ass—”

He plants his feet and grinds, holding Iruka against him all the while. The pressure, the friction, the heat; it’s maddening. He’s panting, desperate for a good breath and unable to take one.

“K’shi, I—ahh, yes, fuck—wanna… want, oh-oh—”

“Whatever you want. Take it. It’s yours.”

Iruka leans down and kisses him again, slowing their hips to a more gentle frot and tweaking one of his nipples. Kakashi groans and lets himself be devoured, panting into Iruka’s mouth while their tongues slip and slide together. Iruka’s kisses slow to a simmer, both of them gasping and touching and still slowly grinding.

Iruka licks their lips; laughs lightly; and says, “I want. I wanna ask for something. A-and it just—I don’t like asking because it always feels like a bad idea at the time, like if I want it, there’s no way you also could want it… y’know?”

“Iruka. Love. Please ask. The last time you had one of these so-called ‘bad ideas’ it turned into one of my favorite things you do for me.”

It helps immensely that Iruka also enjoys warming Kakashi’s cock.

Iruka flushes dark and holds himself up on his palms, braced on the pillow to either side of Kakashi’s ears. His boxers have a damp spot, one that Kakashi can feel against his belly as Iruka continues to slowly rock his hips back and forth over Kakashi’s own erection.

“Okay. Um.” Iruka’s eyes shut tight, and Kakashi grins. Whatever he’s going to ask, he’s sure to enjoy it. “Well, so I was. Thinking. About things I never did with… anyway. And during a break from him, there was this one guy—”

“Love?”

“Gods, okay. Um.” He takes a deep breath and spits it out at once: “Haveyouevereatenass??”

Kakashi blinks.

Stares.

His heart skips. Multiple times.

“Kakashi?” Iruka’s voice is small. He looks away—no, wait, come back—“I didn’t think it would—”

“You would. I… could?” Kakashi takes in a loud breath and lets it go shakily. “Oh gods. Yes. Now? Can we do that now? Please. Please, fuck, sit on my face; if I die, I die smothered by the best ass ever. Let me; oh shit, Iruka—”

He laughs nervously. “Kakashi, okay, just. Let me go take a shower first, yeah?”

Kakashi groans. “Nooo,” he squeezes Iruka’s ass—the same ass he’s going to fucking devour oh fuck—“Now.”

“You whine worse than my pre-genin.” Iruka lifts himself off of Kakashi, stands next to the bed and stretches; his boxers fall just a little lower and Kakashi’s eyes focus on the trail of hair from his navel disappearing under the elastic. His mouth is horribly dry. Iruka grins down at him. “Would you like to come in the shower with me?”

Kakashi shakes his head. “I can’t. You. Wet. Fingering yourself. Nope. Can’t do it.”

Iruka laughs outright and leans back over and kisses him softly. “Alright. I’ll be right back.”

I’ll be here. Kakashi picks his head up just enough to watch Iruka go, biting his lip at the subtle sway of his hips; he knows what he’s doing, that minx.

~

Iruka leans against the wall beside the bedroom door, a towel around his waist and his hair damp and loose around his shoulders. He is trying desperately to pull himself together. He knew going into this that Kakashi was either going to be grossed out or ecstatic. Himself? He’s excited, but just as he had been the first time they tried something… new, he is worried.

Triggers could happen regardless.

He heaves deep breaths, his shoulders moving with the force of them.

Three. Two. One.

He turns and goes inside. The door creaks softly under his palm and his eyes widen at the sight of Kakashi, spread out on his bed, idly stroking his cock with a loose fist. Both eyes are closed and his head is turned to the side, showing off the elegant curve of his neck. He’s flushed to his chest, panting lightly; his other hand is busy with his nipple, tweaking and pinching it to an inflamed pink.

“Oh, Kakashi,” Iruka groans. “How long. What. Fuck.”

“Very… hmm, articulate, Love.”

Iruka huffs a laugh, and crosses the room to stand beside the bed. Kakashi doesn’t stop touching himself; but he does open his eye.

“You. You look gorgeous,” Iruka says, skimming his fingertips along Kakashi’s abdomen, dipping a fingertip in his navel.

“And you need to sit on my face.”

Iruka feels his face heat up fast. “I-I never said I would do that.”

“Let me die a happy man, please.”

“Kakashi.”

He laughs, stops fondling himself, and rolls up to sit on the edge of the bed. Reaching out for Iruka, he pulls him closer with gentle tugs on his towel, and then buries his face in Iruka’s chest, kissing and licking every bit of skin he can reach without shifting his head too much. He wraps his arms around Iruka’s waist and holds him close, and Iruka moans at the attention and cards his fingers through Kakashi’s hair.

“Want you. Want to taste you. Want you writhing on my tongue,” Kakashi murmurs into his chest, still kissing and nipping him. He latches onto a nipple for a second; Iruka cries out softly, presses his chest further into Kakashi’s mouth. “Please. Please. Want to make you … shit. Fuck. Iruka. I need—”

“S-say it.”

Kakashi looks up at him, awe clear in his face. Iruka strokes the back of his fingers down Kakashi’s cheek. “It’s. I’m okay.” Deep breath. “Make me feel good, Love.”

He couldn’t have anticipated the deep groan, one that sounded almost painful; nor does he expect to be flipped around and bent over the bed with the soft thud of Kakashi’s knees hitting the floor behind him. Strong hands tug at his towel and then he’s naked, ass-out in front of his partner, and that same painful groan comes from behind him.

Kakashi presses one hand on the small of his back, and with the other starts petting the globe of his ass. “One tap means yes,” Kakashi mutters.

Oh.

He can feel his breath on—

Ohhh…

“T-two for no. Please, Kakashi.”

“Tell me to stop.”

“Wh-what?”

“Say the word, show me you can say it if you need to, please,” Kakashi says quickly.

Iruka buries his face in his arms, groaning. He whispers the word, “Stop,” and waits for Kakashi’s next insane request.

“Thank the gods. Can I. Please. Oh. Now, now, I want—”

“Kakashi, stop talking a—Ahhh!!!”

The first touch of Kakashi’s soft, wet tongue to his hole collapses Iruka fully onto the bed. He spreads his legs slightly and arches his back. Kakashi’s hand slips to the other side of his ass, groping and petting down to his thigh and back up again. Iruka writhes, his cock trapped between his stomach and the sheets and the friction is nice but Kakashi licking him in broad, slow strokes is maddening. He pants into the cradle of his arms as Kakashi begins delicately thumbing at his hole in opposition with his tongue—lick, press, lick, press—and then the very tip of his tongue slides into him and the sound that escapes Iruka is unhinged.

“More. More, please!”

~

Kakashi takes his hips in hand and noses his way in-between Iruka’s cheeks, mouthing and slurping away. His chin is already on its way to being soaked with spit, but then so is Iruka’s ass and, well, if he didn’t like it he’d say so.

His breath is coming fast, his pulse beating faster. He can feel it throbbing in his neck, the need for air, to slow down and relax, but oh Iruka’s making such wonderful noises and grinding back against his face. It’s glorious. What’s better is when he writhes away from Kakashi—he can infer from that motion alone that Iruka’s hard and likely aching.

Not unlike himself. But this isn’t about him.

This is about Iruka.

This is about Kakashi getting to suffocate himself in the Best Ass In Konoha, and yeah, he’s getting lightheaded from being down for so long but he’s messily kissing Iruka’s hole and slowly easing his way to getting his tongue inside and who gives a fuck about silly things like breathing when he has ass to eat?

“Oh gods, oh fuck, yes—Ahh—so g-good, Kakashi—!”

His eye rolls back, fuck, Iruka doesn’t get vocal in bed. Ever. But this—if this is what gets him going, Kakashi will eat him out every fucking day for the rest of their lives. He’s even using that damn trigger word; stuttering on it but still.

He deserves a reward.

Kakashi spreads Iruka’s ass, takes just a half second to catch his breath, and then dives back in. This time, he’s merciless with his tongue, licking fast and not caring how loud they’re getting. They have a house now; who cares about noise complaints. And when Iruka’s writhing shifts his legs just that little bit wider, Kakashi hums against his hole and shoves his tongue into Iruka as far as he can.

“Kakashi!”

He thumbs at his rim with both hands, stretching his hole while he licks him inside. So good, so good, Iruka, fucking perfect—

“I—I need. Kakashi. Please. Just. A minute. Please.”

He pulls back, frowning. “I’m sorry. Too much?”

Iruka’s panting like he just sprinted from fucking Suna. “No. Gods, no. It’s. You’re doing. It’s amazing. I just,” he chuckles, a hint of self-deprecation in the tone. “M-my knees are gonna give out, if you keep that up.”

Kakashi gently pushes on his thighs. “Then get on the bed. Chest down, ass up. Believe me, I don’t want to be done with you yet.”

Iruka’s face is flushed, down his neck and up to his ears. It’s such a sweet image. But he climbs up anyway, hugging a pillow to his chest and arching his back—

If Iruka can say his trigger word during sex. Kakashi… he can do it too.

He palms Iruka’s ass, shiny with spit and rim puffy pink where he’s been laving attention. The sensual curve of his back, his hair tossed over one shoulder so Kakashi can see the side of his face and neck, the sturdy muscular thighs supporting each perfectly perk check; Iruka’s still moaning, whimpering, waiting for him to continue.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” Kakashi says reverently, and dips his head once again.

This time, he lets his hands explore—he smooths up Iruka’s sides, skipping over each rib; he lightly taps at Iruka’s chest enough that he picks himself up to his elbows, the perfect amount of room for Kakashi to slip his fingers underneath him to tweak and pinch at his nipples; one hand stays, the other comes back down Iruka’s spine, lovingly touching each vertebrae and hovering protectively over the fūma shuriken scar for a moment before moving on. He slips his thumb back beside his tongue, holding Iruka open so he can better love on his hole.

All the while, Iruka’s hips are grinding against his face, rocking back onto Kakashi’s tongue, and he’s blessed to have such a responsive partner but the movement makes eating his ass so, so hard.

So with both hands he grabs Iruka’s hips and holds him tight and murmurs into his hole, “Stay still, so I can pleasure you.”

And Iruka.

Iruka whines.

“Please,” he whispers. “Please keep talking.”

Kakashi, given the requests both to feast on the Best Ass In Konoha and to run his mouth during sex, obliges the best he can.

“Love you, love your ass, oh gods,” he stops to lick broad strokes again, panting and aching. “Want. Wanted to. Oh, Iruka. Wanted to make you feel good since the first time we—” He hums deep in his throat, mouth sealed against Iruka’s hole and tongue flicking. “First. Time we fell into bed together. And now.” Lick, press, lick, press, lick, press; his thumb slides in easily to the first knuckle and it’s warm and wet and Iruka.

“Kakashi I’m. I’m. Oh, keep going. Please. Keep talking.”

“Now you’re letting me. Fuck.” His tongue rejoins his thumb. He pants against Iruka’s hole, watching it clench and pucker and—“Gods, Iruka, I get to touch you; you have no idea how lucky I am.”

“I—more. Little more. Please. Just. Oh-oh-ohh.”

Kakashi blows cool air over Iruka’s ass, and then seals his mouth and tongues Iruka relentlessly. The noises coming from the pillows are unholy and filthy and just drives Kakashi to tongue him harder.

“Kakashi!!!”

He feels Iruka tighten, a vice on his tongue, and he holds Iruka still though his hips want so clearly to thrust and grind down into the sheets. He hears soft splashes outside of his headspace, and Iruka’s cries of Ohh and K’shi and fuck yes. Kakashi keeps flicking his tongue and mouthing at Iruka’s hole until he hears a deep, blissful sigh, and then he pulls back and rests his forehead on the swell of Iruka’s ass.

“You.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I made you—?”

“Yes.”

“Please,” he says, instantly grabbing his long-neglected cock and pumping fast and hard. “Please, I. I wanna come on you. I did good, right? Please. Let me. Oh gods. Iruka. Want to—fuck. Please-please-please—”

“Yeah?” Iruka asks, and he drawls, almost sleepily, but he’s looking back over his shoulder and smiling and he arches his back ever so slightly. “You wanna come on my ass, My Love?”

“Please.”

“Get me even wetter? I’ll need another shower after you’re done covering my ass with your come.”

“Iruka, please!”

“I love you, my Kakashi.”

He can’t. He can’t hold back anymore. With one trembling hand he spreads Iruka’s cheeks again and with the other he jerks himself furiously. A split-second decision has him opening his sharingan to watch as he comes in harsh spurts right on Iruka’s pretty pink hole.

Best ass in Konoha? Painted with his come? He could die a happy man just from this image. Even if Iruka won’t sit on his face. And with the sharingan, the image will always be with him.

He collapses next to Iruka, closes both eyes, and pulls his lover to his chest. They’ll need to get cleaned up. They’ll need to change the sheets.

Right now, Iruka tucks himself against Kakashi, their foreheads together; Iruka looks like he desperately wants to kiss him, but remembers where his mouth had been at the last second. He kisses Kakashi’s cheek and jaw instead. They both laugh.

“I love you,” Kakashi says.

Iruka’s laugh turns into a giggle. “And my ass?”

“I would love you even if you didn’t have such a fantastic ass,” Kakashi hums. “Thankfully, however, that is not our reality.”

“That was…”

“Yeah?”

Iruka sighs happily. “Wow.”

Kakashi kisses his forehead. “Blissed you out, huh?”

“Shhh,” Iruka clutches him closer. “Afterglow.”

Kakashi holds him tighter and catches his breath.

[bi-the-way-i-love-bunnies]

(And they were roommates au)

Drarry drabble ~ 10/21

“What the fuck?” 

Harry glanced at the paper in his hand before checking the room number again. Yep, this was it. No mistaking it then. An equally confused Malfoy looked up from where he was unpacking before scowling at him. 

“Potter,” he acknowledged, “What in Merlin’s name are you doing here?” 

“You’re Drew Black?” Harry couldn’t help but blurt out. 

Drew Black, a student majoring in psychology, just like him. At least that’s what his form had told him. He’d also be Harry’s roommate for the next school year. Crap. 

“Yes Potter,” Malfoy rolled his eyes, “That’s my alias.” 

“But this is a muggle university?” Harry couldn’t help but question. 

Malfoy scoffed and turned back to the box he was dealing with earlier, “I have the same right to be here as you, you know.” 

“But you hate muggles!” 

At that, Harry saw Malfoy grimace a little. “Yeah, well, the war could change many perspectives on things.” 

Once the war was over, the first thing Harry did was try enrolling in the Auror program. It sounded good at the time. It was his dream career as a teen, Ron would be there, and it would give him something to keep him busy. However, after a month or so of training, it proved to be a fatal decision. 

He didn’t account for how exhausted he’d be after everything was done. And hunting down remaining death eaters and bad guys didn’t benefit his mental health at all. Not to mention there was constant pressure for being the boy who lived twice, all mighty savior of the wizarding world. Not taking his final year of newts was really starting to show, but all his colleagues were pretty patient and assured it was fine. It wasn’t. 

When Harry voiced all his complaints to Ron and Hermione one night, he was leant a sympathetic ear. 

“Oh god! I’m so glad I’m not the only one,” Ron revealed as he flopped back onto the couch after grabbing another butterbeer. “No offense mate, but if you didn’t say anything I would’ve told you I was quitting next week or something.” 

“Yeah?” Harry gave a wry smile, “Was it all getting to you too?” 

Ron thought about it for a moment before answering. “Not as much as you have, I don’t think. I mean, I’m not the one for killed Voldemort so there’s less pressure on me, but it feels too similar to-”

“Being on the run. War memories. Trauma?” Harry voiced. 

“Exactly,” the two shared a smile. They just got each other like that. 

“While it’s lovely you two found out you didn’t want to be an Auror anymore, what are you guys going to do now?” Hermione, the voice of reason, spoke up. 

The two men remained silent as they thought about it. Actually, now that Harry wasn’t planning to continue with training, what was he going to do now? 

“I don’t exactly know yet,” Ron spoke up first. “Whatever it is though, I’m planning on staying close to home. Mom and the rest of them really need the support right now you know?” 

Hermione nodded, “That makes sense.” None were willing to bring up Fred’s death right now. 

“What about you Harry?” Hermione turned back to him. 

Harry shrugged. “Same answer as Ron I guess. It’s not that I don’t want to stay close to home or finish my Hogwarts year like you, but maybe I’d like to get a hobby or learn stuff away from the press.”

Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment before offering a suggestion. “Well after Hogwarts, I was planning to attend a muggle university to expand my education. You could do the same, and you don’t have to worry about coming back or staying close to us. There’s quite a lot of muggle options and I’m sure McGonagall would love to help with writing up all the documents you need.” 

“You think going back to school would help me?” School didn’t particularly appeal to him, but Hermione’s suggestion sounded better than what he first assumed. 

“There’s a lot of variety when it comes to Muggle studies, Harry. Who knows, maybe you’ll find something right for you.” 

“Yeah mate,” Ron agreed, “It could do you some good. And if you ever get sick of it you could always come find me and we could be awkward veteran dropouts together.” 

Harry let out a small laugh. “You’re not going back to school then.” 

Ron shrugged. “Maybe not now. But whatever I do, I’ll figure it out.” 

And so the next few days Harry hung out at Ron and Hermione’s, the former helping him sort through colleges he could apply to with the new papers freshly acquired from McGonagall. 

“Best of luck to you Mr. Potter,” she gave him a warm smile when she handed off the papers the day prior. James Evans, it read, his new alias a bold crisp print at the top. 

And so with Hermione’s help and Ron keeping him grounded every time Harry felt like quitting and turning back, he eventually settled upon majoring in psychology at a university in New York. It was an ocean away from home, but he felt that it was the right choice. And Hermione and Ron promised to owl whenever they could and try visiting him every other week. 

The day they left for the portkey station was one of the hardest moments of his life. Even with the war, at least he still had Ron and Hermione. 

“Remember we’re only a portkey away,” Hermione hugged him, “And remember to write all the time!” 

Harry laughed, “Yeah I searched up the closest owl station to the school. Only a 20 minute walk from campus.” 

Ron and Hermione shared a glance between the two of them, one that Harry couldn’t decipher. 

“Actually Harry,” Ron disappeared for a second before coming back with a drape covered object. 

“Go ahead and lift it mate,” he encouraged, so Harry did. When he lifted the veil he wasn’t expected to find a light brown and white barred owl staring back at him.

“Oh,” Harry marveled quietly, taking in the creature before him.

“I know you’ve really missed Hedwig,” Hermione bit her lip, “But we figured you might want a companion with you.”

“Yeah,” Ron agreed, “And she’s really well behaved! The seller said that she liked delivering letters a lot, this way you’ll be able to reach us anytime.”

Harry looked between his two friends and his new owl before engulfing the pair in a giant hug, “She’s perfect guys!” He pulled back to give them a fond look, his two friends mirroring his expression. Eventually, he turned to face his new pet, “Does she have a name?” 

“Oh uhm. The shop named her Nessarose.” 

Nessarose. It seemed very fitting for the pretty owl. 

“I think I’ll nickname her Nessie,” Harry decided after a while. Nessie gave a small hoot in agreement. 

From there, the trio said their final goodbyes and Harry was whisked into New York. 

Upon arrival, the school gave him all the papers he needed after registering. An hour or so later on campus, he wandered around the area and found a local owl hotel of some sort, which Nessie was sure to enjoy. She was free to leave and come out of her room whenever she wanted via the skylight of her room. Before he left, the people at the hotel showed him the incantation of a spell to contact them in case he needed Nessie to deliver an owl, or if he just wanted his companion’s company in general. Once that was settled, he was back on his way to settling in, checking all the forms for school, including his dorm room and dorm mate. At the time he didn’t think much of it. Now he was sort of regretting not looking at the name closer. Drew Black? It was obvious the more he thought of it, watching his roommate unfolding what looked to be silk bed sheets. 

“Right,” Harry sighed, “I think I’m going to ask for a change of dorms.” 

“Why Potter! I didn’t know you hated me that much,” Malfoy gave him a condescending look. 

Harry scoffed. “Shove off Malfoy. I just don’t think we’d room well together that’s all. We’ll drive each other up the walls before next week.”

“Your funeral,” Malfoy didn’t look up. Harry frowned but moved past the doorway. There were two beds and separate desks, a small living space complete with a mini coffee table, and a tiny kitchen. A window was present at the back wall, acting as a sort of divider between the two sides, perfect for owls. He glanced over at Malfoy again. Maybe he’ll give him the benefit of the doubt. After all, he testified at the git’s trial for a reason. Besides, they had a week to settle in before school officially started. How bad could it be? 

Three days later and Harry was regretting everything. Right now the two sat in tense silence, Malfoy at his desk, and Harry working at their small kitchen table. They just finished an argument about eating whose food, as stupid as it was.  

“Seriously Potter! That was my last packet of instant noodles!” 

“I didn’t touch your damn noodles Malfoy! I bought my own, you paranoid prat!” 

Later on, it turned out that Malfoy’s instant noodles were in the pantry. How anyone could mistake the fridge for a pantry was beyond him, but it happened anyway. Also, it turned out Harry did lie earlier. He was the one that moved the noodles in the first place, he just didn’t remember until after their argument. This resulted in another row between the pair after Malfoy found out. 

Harry rolled his eyes. These petty arguments were slowly driving him crazy. And lately, Malfoy has gotten more snappy with him, like it’s Harry’s fault that Malfoy can’t adjust to muggle life. If they were going to keep this up, Harry’s going to quit school before it even starts. 

A sudden thud made Harry jump in his seat, causing him to look up to see Malfoy standing up after taking out his frustrations on his textbooks. “That’s it. I can’t do this anymore. I thought I could stand you but clearly, I was wrong.” 

“Well, you think I could stand you either? You don’t exactly make living with you easy!” Harry resorted back.

“I could say the same for you,” Malfoy glared before letting out a loud sigh, “Whatever Potter. Let’s just get moving and hopefully by tomorrow I’ll never have to see you again.”

“Likewise.”

They headed over to talk to their resident advisor to request their change of roommates, however when asked, the RA shook his head and gave them sympathetic glances. 

“If you could find someone to swap with you, it might work. However, the last of the dorm rooms got filled out about 2 or 3 days ago. If you came, earlier it might’ve worked, but for now, you guys are stuck with each other.” 

They left after they were assured quite a handful of times by the RA that there really wasn’t much that he could do. So the pair left, the walk to their door room filled with heated words. 

“I told you I should’ve just swapped roommates when given the chance!”

“No need for the I told you so’s Potter. If you’ve taken your own advice we wouldn’t be in this mess.” 

“I thought we were past hating each other and arguing. It’s called giving the benefit of the doubt Malfoy! It’s what decent people do!” 

Their bickering continued even once they entered their dorms. They only stopped when their neighbor started banging on their door telling them to shut up. 

Eventually, they settled on an uneasy truth to just ignore one another. Can’t find your instant noodle pack? Bottle it up and just go to the local grocery store. Complaining about your roommate’s messy side of the dorm? Shove over their stupid pile of piled up laundry back to their side and ignore them. Tripped on your roommates textbook which they placed on the floor yet again? Simmer quietly and pick it up and place it back onto their desk. All in all, the tension in the room really piled up. 

Harry couldn’t really wait until the weekend Ron and Hermione visited, so he opted to write them an owl. He cast the summoning spell for Nessie and waited as he dug around his desk looking for a piece of parchment. 

Nessie hooted a greeting at their open window just as Harry found a small piece of parchment a few minutes later. 

“Hey, Nessie,” he invited her in. At the corner of his eyes, he noticed Draco staring at them, but chose not to comment. “I don’t have any owl treats since I forgot to go buy them, but I’m pretty sure we have some spare crackers in the pantry.” 

Nessie gave a small hoot of delight as Harry left to raid the pantry. By the time he found what he needed and got back, he was surprised to see Draco softly petting Nessie’s wings. 

“Uh, Malfoy?” Harry prompted as he held out a cracker for Nessie, which she gladly accepted. 

“I didn’t know you’ve gotten a new bird Potter.” 

Harry shrugged, “Nessie’s a gift from Ron and Hermione before I left for the states.” 

“How typical for the three of you,” Malfoy commented, continuing to give his attention towards Nessie, “I dread to think of who named her. It sounds so...plebeian.” 

Harry rolled his eyes, “Well I thought it was a good name. Nessie’s short for Nessarose.”

“You poor dear,” Malfoy cooed, and wasn’t that weird to think about. Malfoy showing affection, much less to Harry’s owl. 

“Nessarose,” Malfoy started, “Do you mind if I use you to deliver a letter too? I think mother is missing me quite terribly and it’s a tad too late to head to the local owlery. I’m sure Potter doesn’t mind sending out one more letter alongside his.” 

Nessie let out a tiny hoot of agreement while Harry huffed behind him. The git didn’t even bother to ask him, yet Harry didn’t deny him the request. 

He watched as Malfoy headed back to his side of the room, already starting on his letter. Harry did the same as he addressed the letter to his friends. 

Dear Ron and Hermione, Harry began. 

I miss you both terribly and I’m sorry for not sending an owl sooner. Anyway, let me sum up my experience at uni so far. The biggest thing is that I hate my roommate (yay how fun!) I’m pretty sure the school has made a terrible mistake in rooming us together. 

He paused and spared a glance at Malfoy, who was deeply concentrated on his letter to his mother. 

I don’t see how they thought we could ever live well together, Harry resumed, I think those surveys for the perfect roommate must be flawed. Hermione, I’m sure you’d love to come here and fix the current curriculum they’re using. If it was working properly, we wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place. The git even used Nessie without my permission! Not that I mind all that much. Nessie seemed happy to help. I’m just pissed he didn’t ask me directly. And to answer your question across the ocean, Hermione, yes, my roommate’s a wizard. It sounds like a good thing, but trust me it’s not. On another note, he refuses to call her Nessie. So he’s taken to using Nessarose in stride. Prat.

Anyway, Nessie is doing well so far! I found a local owl hotel and the workers informed me that she goes out daily. It’s fascinating how their system works, really. I’ll tell you guys more in detail on your next visit since I can’t be arsed to write it all down on parchment. So far they said that Nessie has been catching fresh mice every day, so I’m glad she’s happy. I think she’s really taken with New York because of that. 

Back to my roommate problem, you’d be shocked to find out who it is. I knew I was. And what are the odds we’d be rooming together? Out of all the universities he could’ve gone to, and of all the people he could’ve been roomed with. I’m really starting to think Ron’s theory of how I have a cursed life is correct. Well, lemme just say to the universe fuck you guys for messing with my life. 

You see, my roommate is -

“Potter!” Malfoy interrupted loudly, smirking when Harry jumped causing his quill to leave a horrible streak of ink on the paper along with several ink blots. 

“What, Malfoy!” Harry bit out and glared at him, making the prat smirk wider. 

“Just wanted to comment on how awfully slow you are at writing letters. Couldn’t think of much to write with that brain of yours, could you? I didn’t even know that the school accepted such stupidly incompetent people.”

“Looking at you, I was wondering the same thing,” Harry resorted back angrily before looking at where he left off. You see, my roommate is- ...

A blonde self absorbed prat who wouldn’t know the difference between an obnoxious snob and himself unless it actually hit him in the face, Harry angrily finished writing before handing off his letter to Nessie. Nessie, bless her, just took it happily and flew away, Malfoy’s letter already in hand. 

Well, at least one of them was in a good mood. Ron and Hermione would just have to excuse his hastily finished letter, no thanks to the prat. 

He turned around only to find Malfoy’s smug face looking back at him. Maybe Harry should’ve done some running or something during the week when he had a chance, because now all he had was built up frustration, and if Malfoy didn’t step back, all that frustration was going to go straight into his perfectly posh face. 

“I’m heading out,” Harry growled, grabbing his wand, moving quickly to the door. The Slytherin wasn’t fazed.

“Aww, but we were just starting to get along!” Malfoy teased. 

Harry couldn’t resist casting a minor stinging hex at the git, taking small satisfaction in his yelp. In a second, Malfoy was back to scowling at him again. Good. 

“Be back later,” Harry left the dorm in a strop. He really needed to clear his head. 

[devil-latte]

First Lines Meme

@badass-at-fandoming​ and @missn11​ tagged me for a First Lines Meme. They did this a very long time ago and I’m gonna give it a go now.

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line, then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

Everyone I knew already got tagged in the last round so I tag anyone who wants to do it lol.

And hey fam, I only have 3 published fics at this point, so I’m gonna cheat. I’m going to include the first lines from a couple of... lone scene I have from my “Le Sang Oblige” fic universe. Here’s the thing, I haaaate writing opening lines. Lol, Le Sang Oblige doesn’t even have a “first” chapter yet, I skipped it so that I could make myself work on the parts I was excited to work on. XD Its like skipping the first page of a new sketchbook to avoid the pressure of creating whatever is going to end up being the viewers first impression. Anyway here goes (in backwards chronological order)

1) Damsel De-stress The moment Damsel set foot in The Asylum, she wanted to leave. The pimply young kine with their black-and-neon bedraggled outfits annoyed her. The synth-heavy melodramatic drone set to flashing rainbow strobes gave her a figurative headache. This was not her scene. 2) Le Sang Oblige: Avery Witnesses the Trial Avery downed the acrid, rust-colored liquid and waited for it to take effect. Only after he felt the mixture slide through his veins and found he could no longer see his hand in front of his face or his toes, did he lift the grate and enter the theatre.  3) Le Sang Oblige: Elric and Avery at the Bar “Remind me why I let you talk me into letting you come with?” “Because you’re a hunted man,” Avery replied matter-of-factly, “and I’m going to try to prevent you from getting sniped while getting a snack.” “Right…” Elric sighed. “Just be cool then. Let me do my thing.” “Looking forward to seeing what ‘the thing’ is.” This summoned up a in inscrutable glance from Elric.  4) Your Ambitions Close / Your Enemy Closer June 1999. Sebastian LaCroix slipped through the dusky streets of Downtown Los Angeles, heedless of the danger he courted as a lone agent of the Camarilla entrenched so distantly behind enemy lines. It was certainly not the Ventrue’s first time in Anarch territory, though he had to admit, the holds of New York’s loathsome Rabble seemed positively monastic compared to the raucous shamble that was the Free States of the west coast. He had spent no more than two days so far in this infernal city and as a proper order-loving Camarilla and Ventrue, the state of things made LaCroix’s blood boil.

5) Le Sang Oblige: Elric and Mercurio at the Diner Elric had not been a vampire for more than a week yet, and most of his nights had been spent in Mercurio’s company. Elric had quickly discovered that nights spent in association with the agent invariably came coupled with some measure of violence or, at the very least, gunshots. Despite this, the ghoul’s even temper and obvious acumen served as a calming presence to the new fledgling, grounding Elric in the unsettling new world he had found thrust upon him.

6) A Terrible Boss “Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. LaCroix isn’t receiving anyone tonight.” Mercurio leaned against his fists on the receptionist’s desk, hoping that doing so would prevent her from seeing they were shaking. He managed a smile. “Sure, that’s what he says, but that doesn’t really apply to me.” Analysis: I invariably write in third person past tense. I used to have a complex about it, like straight up thought first person was inferior (thanks Twilight-clones). I’m past that now but still prefer 3rd person past with an iron conviction.

I always choose one point of view character for any given scene, so if its not the handful of times when I begin with dialogue, the opening line always seems to include the POV character as the subject. I don’t always mention the setting in the initial paragraph, especially if I’m setting up other intrigue with character interaction. 

Something I never seem to do is begin with description of setting or action not directly tied to a character. Always starts with the characters. 

[mx-milo]

Parlez-vous or something like that

[千紬/ChikaTsumu]

It's the end of Chikatsumu Week. I don't play A3! often, I'm not active in the fandom, I barely even write fanfics. But the power of these two have compelled me, and since AO3 won't be giving me an account until the next week, so it'll be here first.

Summary: "Chikage has never spoken a word of French before in his life, but that didn't stop him from helping out Tsumugi for one of his tutees. Hilarity ensues."

~~~

Chikage was a reliable source for guidance and knowledge for the students of the Mankai Company. Although there were a myriad of adults who have their own areas of expertise, it usually ended up with either him or Tsumugi, especially when it came to linguistic subjects: Classical Japanese, English, and the rare foreign language elective.

His sessions with Tenma or Taichi were a welcome break from whatever he had been doing on his PC for the last god knows how many hours. At least he could perceive the output of his hardwork with the wide smiles of a teenager who just finally understood why verbs didn't always end with -ed.

That's not to say, it wasn't challenging. Not especially when a curveball was thrown in his way. "Chikage-san, I was wondering if you could help me. A student asked me if I knew some French, and I said I'd do my best." Chikage wasn't much of baseball anyway. He'd rather play cricket.

He looked up at Tsumugi, removing his glasses and polishing them again in the process. "French? Well, I did spend a few months there for as liasion for my company. I learned how to speak so I could negotiate well for my superiors." He noticed Tsumugi was looking at him intently. It wasn't new for him, since it was like he was being psycho-analyzed by the master tutor whenever he spoke. Most times, he felt it was harmless, Tsumugi wouldn't even want to know where to begin with his psyche and conscience, but now felt different. He was concerned, even a little bit, that he might just call his bluff.

He lied after all. He barely knows the language. He didn't lie about the the time he spent there, but he was obviously being vague about being liasion, the higher-ups at the Organization, and the meaning of "negotiation." He didn't have time to see the sights and speak their tongue.

But it was not a big deal. It's not like it's too different from the other Latin languages, right? It's like Spanish but some of the letters are different, and they barely pronounce any of them. 'I may be a liar, but I make up for it by improvising.' he thought to himself, as he waiting for Tsumugi to respond.

"Could I ask you to visit me by the balcony later? We might be in for a long night."

Chikage let out a small smile, and gave a small nod. "That's a date then."

"Thank you, Chikage-san."

Tsumugi left briefly, sounding pleased at the prospect of extra help. For his part, Chikage couldn't help but shake his head. 'What have I gotten myself into?' He knew he had to brush up on his French, even if it was from the bare minimum on a Wikipedia page.

He usually wouldn't stick his head out for something as small as this, but this was Tsumugi he was talking about. Somehow the psych major has outwitted him in a battle of the minds. Or was it of the hearts?

~

Sometime ago, Chikage started calling their late-night trial-and-error teaching sessions "dates", partly because he thought it was funny to compare something so mundane to something romantic, and partly to watch Tsumugi blush whenever he said it. There was some satisfying about the way his cheeks would barely tinge red at the utterance of anything romantic, only for him to totally ignore it after.

'You can't escape me Tsukioka-san. I have tricks up my sleeve too.' he thought to himself, as he ambled through the halls of the Mankai Dorm. It was almost midnight, so the usually boisterous building only emanated a soft hum of energy.

'Of course, it wasn't for the sake of mischief.'

"Chikage-san, let's begin?"

"My pleasure, Tsumugi."

'There's always a reason for mischief after all.'

The specific lesson Tsumugi's student had was the worst one they could possibly deal with: conjugation. All Romance languages had their three, five, seven different verb endings depending on whether you were eating your bread now, ordering someone to eat it on Monday, or to have thrown it in the trash three days ago.

'And let's not get started with pronunciation.'

Everytime Tsumugi encountered a new word, he would run it through Translate to hear how it would be pronounced, and then ask Chikage if he said it correctly. All he'd do is nod and repeat it best he can, then Tsumugi would again, and they'd just accept that was the best they could do.

"Par-lez vu? Wait. No. That isn't it."

"It's like 'par-ley vu'. Parlez-vous, or something like that."

"'Per-ley vu?'"

"I guess that's close enough for someone born in Japan."

Tsumugi snickered at his comment. Chikage could only look on and wonder what he was thinking. His head was tilted ever so slightly, his green locks swaying in the light midsummer night breeze, while his rounded glasses were slightly askew on his nose.

"You know, some of the best theater was written in French. It wouldn't hurt for me to learn in case Tsuzuru sets one of our plays in France."

Chikage looked down and sighed with a smile on his face. "Even when we're suffering with a foreign language, you're still a strong theater nerd, aren't you?"

Tsumugi, sitting inches away from him, lightly pushed Chikage's arm with his in jest. "You know theater nerd is a compliment, right?"

"Tsuzuru told me that once. But you're all the same, so hyperfocused and passionate."

"Well, you're one of us now, so I guess that applies to you too."

Chikage raise his hands in fake shock, exaggerating his movements. "Oh no, I've become what I feared the most. A nerd" he said in an almost mocking tone.

Tsumugi couldn't help but burst out in laughter as he tried stopping Chikage, who started spouting out Shakespeare, eerily like Arisugawa would. "Stop, stop, I get it already." At this point he already took his arm, since he started mimeing holding a skull like Hamlet.

"You're going for so much trouble for this. Why'd you take up your student's elective anyway?" Chikage wouldn't dare notice how Tsumugi's arm was linked on his.

Tsumugi shrugged. "I just thought it would help me brush up on a foreign language for a change. I knew I could rely on you anyway." It was at that moment he realized how close they've gotten.

That didn't stop him from unlinking their arms. That didn't stop Chikage from just gawking at the situation. That didn't stop Tsumugi from blushing at the thought of what was happening.

"Ah, Chikage-san, our arms are..."

"I can see that."

Immediately, Tsumugi pulled back his arm back to his side and turned ever so slightly away. Chikage stayed where he was, still dumbfounded at what just happened. They let the air of tension hang for a few more moments before Tsumugi turned back and suggested they finally try dealing with the two different ways to say "be."

"'Av-awa?' 'Atu-ra?' Why does French have to be so hard?"

"I mean Japanese changes their endings, but never this much. It doesn't have to be."

'This doesn't have to be hard.' Chikage thought to himself in affirmation, but clearly for a different think entirely.

~

Tsumugi woke up after something bright shone into his eyes. After yawning and rubbing his eyes, he took a look at his phone, confusing the volume buttons for the locks. 'What time is it already?'

On his screen was a picture of Zabi, himself, and his grandmother, and a clock happily informing Tsumugi it's already quarter to six in the morning. He was promptly sent into a panic. He looked out the glass-paned door to the balcony and saw that the sun was already peeking through the horizon, the source of the enlightenment that stirred Tsumugi.

He looked around him and saw that the corridors were still empty, a sight uncommon to him, seeing as he was probably the latest to rise of all the people he knew. To his right however, one person was already awake, looking at him intently, though still plastered onto the couch cushion.

"Good morning, Tsumugi."

"Chikage-san, you're up too."

"Well, I was always a light sleeper, and you started squirming around maybe five, ten minutes ago."

Chikage wasn't wearing his glasses; it was on the coffee table along with Tsumugi's laptop and Homare's draft of a book full of his poems. Tsumugi always commented that without his glasses, he looked much more severe and mischievous, but also 'maybe more exposed and solemn.' Chikage laughed at the fact the last time he said it but now it was undoubtedly true, especially since he just woke up after sleeping beside him through the night.

'I just woke up beside him after sleeping through the night.' Chikage thought to himself at that very moment. Rarely would he ever lose his guard so much as to randomly fall asleep, and on Tsumugi's shoulder, no less. Luckily, he didn't wake up to see Chikage in that position, which would have been much worse for the both of them.

They were still wearing yesterday's clothes, the air around them smelled like both of their perfumes, and their area was a mess of strewn papers and uncapped pens. Yet, for all the apparent chaos, both of them were at peace in the moment, seated side-by-side. At their most vulnerable, yes, but they found no reason to take advantage of it, rather relish in each other's company. All the while Tsumugi had a light blush on his face, and so did Chikage. It was probably the gentle cold of a summer's morning, if not the residual warmth from their sharing sleep together.

"I'm lucky you're not a vampire, Chikage-san."

"Why do you say that?"

"You could've drawn blood from me and made me one of your kind." Tsumugi languidly pointed to his neck. Apparently, he surmised where Chikage fell asleep.

"Well, I were a vampire, I'd only have to fear you, wouldn't I?"

"Yes Chikage-san, I'd spike your curry with all the garlic I could possibly muster." Tsumugi smiled as widely as he could through the laziness much to Chikage's dismay.

He instantly fell back on Tsumugi's shoulder, taking the blue-haired tutor with him, and toppling onto the other side of the decrepit sofa. "Well then, I hope you won't do that to my food while I'm asleep."

"How can I do that when you're still on me then?"

Chikage yawned as he slowly moved from his shoulder, to his chest, and ultimately resting on his lap. "I can never be too sure."

Tsumugi rested a hand on Chikage's head, toying playfully with the stray strands of his hair before neatly setting it to the back of his head.. "If that's the case, bonne nuit, Chikage-san."

He slid his hands under Chikage's head and raised it as high as he can, to the point where they were within his reach to plant a gentle kiss on his forehead. Chikage returned in kind taking Tsumugi's hand and touching his lips on its somewhat calloused yet also milky soft back.

"Bonne nuit, cherie."

Elsewhere in the Mankai Dorms, Tsumugi could hear music playing from one of the rooms.

"Vampires never have to complain of living a dull circumstance."

It being a rock ballad, it was probably from one of the younger actors, probably Masumi-kun. The easy melody matched the beat of his heart and soon the rise and fall of his breath as he slowly fell back asleep.

"And it would be fine, to spend my whole life with you together."

"Parlez-vous, or something like that."

[onceuponanaromantic]

The Nameless

(Been gone for a while because... a lot has happened to me personally in the last month plus but anyway, here’s a piece unlinked to any of my past pieces.)

(In response to @flashfictionfridayofficial’s prompt: FFF70 Undead. Enjoy!)

Footsteps echo. Silence falls into the clearing.

 “It’s time, daughter- “

 The smile is velvet stained with blood. The cloak billows.

 “I am no daughter of anything. I will not come peacefully.”

 Wrists bared, hands spread, stark against the wine-darkness of the beckoning night. The dress worn floats.

 “You will.”

Laughter hides itself well in a sheath of credulity. Dark hair flutters in the stillness of the air. An eyebrow is quirked.

 “Or else?”

The question is asked, politely quizzical in tone. They might have simply been chatting about the weather, if not for the fact that far away, off in the distance, the wind begins to howl.

 “You will be given a fair trial and welcomed back. Despite everything, you were once the daughter-“

 Blood splatters the grass, silver beading where dew normally forms. A sigh floats into the air. The blade is returned, the stain on the metal cleaned.

 “I said I was not a daughter. It’s about time they learnt that.”

 Arrogance, backed by ability, is nothing more than confidence, no?

  When they tell the story later, they will paint it as a shining triumph. An example of honour, loyalty and pride in the victor in the face of terrible odds. The skill of a human elemental raised faerie pitted against demons from hell and proven superior. They will praise her courage and her skill in song.

 The truth is, she won because loss was not an option.

 This is what they leave out of the song.

 It is an overcast day and the humidity settles on human skin like a cloak. She walks with some of the first people she learnt to trust, who she has learnt to call friends. She hides her faerie upbringing, trying to learn how to fit as a human. With practice, she gets better.

 Then, the demon comes.

 She isn’t ready. She is… by human standards, she is barely eleven, no more than a child. She has been raised to be proud and to be a fighter by the faerie. Those are the instincts that come in here, the loyalty, but also the realisation that there are worse things that come if one fails.

 She tells her friends to wait. She says to trust her, and they do. She tells them to run and hide when she tells them to. They do, even if they don’t understand.

 She is a child. She is scared. She’s in pain.

 She draws her sword and wraps herself in armour and leaps to the air. The air balances itself around her skin, chaos shrieking happily from within her soul. She yells, demanding to know what they want of her.

 They want her to turn herself in as a hostage. In return, they’ll spare the humans.

 Later, when she thinks back, she’ll think ‘but I was once human too.”

 At the time, she laughs and calls out. She does not remember the fight, so she cannot dispute the records of her weaving light and magic as the wind spins her. She cannot dispute the claims of her tying the net off deftly when she wins, the storm crackling around her. The sky rumbles as her partner, and the faerie will say this is a sign that she is of the sky.

 She won’t remember what happens after the fight, just that she was injured, but kept fighting anyway. She wins but she hurts and her friends stare at her, stare at the armour and the shining weapons in her hands.

 She claims the human world when the faerie come to claim her. They laugh in her face, and tell her that her soul is not human, whatever her body appears to be. They call her the daughter of the sky and tell her she will understand someday.

 They call her arrogant, for pride in a human looks rather like foolishness, does it not?

  She speaks the language of the faerie as if she is one of them, but that is a consequence of being raised by them.

 We cannot choose our pasts but we can choose our futures.

 She learns the language of the demons because that’s what you do when your best friend is a demon working with you in the labs and makes snarky comments in that language that you can’t understand. She learns it because she’s running through Hell, fighting and trying to live everyday past the pain and terror.

 She learns it while healing because it is a demon who places her fingers along the scars of her arms and tells her that pain does not care for morality or origin. She learns it because the faerie cast her out for her imperfect nature and for the demon blood that ran through her veins to keep her alive past when she should have died.

 When she returns to the mortal realm and claims a name that is demonic in nature, the faerie call her arrogant. They say she betrays.

 They predict she will come back to them within the turn of a century.

 They call her arrogant when she doesn’t, choosing humans as her company and a demon as her partner.

 The faerie do not lie, and indeed they do not. She is arrogant.

 But arrogance, tinted with disobedience, is what free will looks like, no?

              They flinch at her, even as they sing of her past victories. She does not care. They taught her that names are only as important as the values you give them, after all. She just applies what she grew up learning.

             They gave her a longer lifetime. They gave her freedom to choose, thinking she would choose them. They start calling her the ‘undead’ instead of ‘divine’ when she smiles and her teeth shine bright in the night. They start sending envoys to get her back.

             They gave her a body for fighting, for winning in beautiful and elegant ways. They trained her to hear what was not meant for her ears. They teach her how to use the weather and the chaos to her benefit. They teach her to win, whatever the cost.

             When the other elementals join her in Hell, they call her arrogant for thinking she could win.

             Arrogance, when one really looks at it, just looks like choosing something you’re not supposed to have thought of, no?

[calumrose]

Trigger [Police/Gang!AU] Chapter 4 || C.H

A//N: Here we bloody go! Enjoy chapter 4! I was gonna stick in a GIF for Calum but then realised he’s not actually in this chapter *spoiler ;)* But there’s almost no good gifs for my face claim for Eloise so... If one gets attached by the time I post this, then google images clearly felt like being nice to me for once.

Word Count: 11.3k

Summary: Eloise Gray and Calum Hood, not two people you would ever think to put together. What started as a ploy for power turned into a romance, resulting in the realisation that loving your enemy may not be such a bad thing after all.

Previous Chapters: Prologue / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3

22 Days Left

The park was surprisingly quiet for a Thursday afternoon. There was a quiet bustle that continued to fill the open space, people enjoying a peaceful afternoon walk while others enjoyed a more strenuous afternoon run. The sun beat down through the blue skies, the reflection of light bouncing off of the pond in the centre of the grassed area where Paige and Eloise sat together.

Eloise was in desperate need of a catch up with a friend; one who didn’t have any ties with a so-called gang. Paige was always one to think straight, and that’s exactly what Eloise needed right now, a straight talker. Her mind was a minefield and had been for the past few days; more so than usual. Typically, the reason for the treacherous tiptoeing around her own thoughts were due to the highly illegal escapades she found herself tied up in, but instead this time they were caused by a hopelessly handsome, tall Australian who she had been texting back and forth with for the past few days.

Ever since their date in Calum’s apartment, ever since she felt his lips against hers once again, she was in a trance. She couldn’t think straight anymore, unable to block him out. And unfortunately for her, she was struggling to convince herself that none of it was genuine.

Talking to Calum was so easy for her, it was as easy as walking. And it confused her. She was unable to comprehend how she felt so comfortable around him, how she was able to be rendered speechless by his words, how she was able to become putty in his hands without even realising. She hated that it seemed so involatile, unable to be stopped no matter how hard she tried to fight it – even though she didn’t make the strongest effort to.

A gust of wind blew through the park, catching Paige off-guard as she tried to keep her cap secured on her head against the wind, a gentle huff escaping her as she waited for it to calm down. Eloise’s hair flew freely from the breeze, her body welcoming the cold chill that rattled through her bones as she sat in the company of her friend. “Could you have picked a windier spot to sit down?” Paige scoffed, a playful smirk on her face as she turned in her seat, trying to find a better position to battle against the wind, to which Eloise sent a shrug in response.

Eloise and Paige had been friends for years, meeting in high school and being paired up in their history class for a project, becoming and remaining close friends ever since. She had introduced Eloise to her other friends, and then Eloise introduced them to Scott. The small group of them became a team during their time in school, a group who stuck together and supported one another throughout most trials and tribulations, especially when it came to Eloise.

“So, uh, y’know there’s a reason why I asked if we could meet up today,” Paige plucked a few strands of grass from the ground next to her, avoiding Eloise’s eyes. Her whole face was rosy, a mixture of that being from the radiating sun shining down on them and also from the remaining effects of the cold she had been suffering with.

“Uh huh,” Eloise sounded, trying to encourage Paige to continue with whatever she was trying to come out with. The words looked to be as if they were on the tip of the blonde’s tongue, her blue eyes, that shared the same shade as the sky, searching for something to focus on. “Paige, out with it already for god’s sake!”

Eloise could see the intake of breath Paige took in as her blue eyes finally met brown. “Remember the promotion I mentioned a few weeks back, the one for the Lead Graphic Designer position in Georgia?” Eloise felt her throat tighten at the word ‘Georgia’, realising very quickly what her friend was trying to explain to her. “And how I thought about going for it, but I fought against it because it meant packing up everything and moving to another state,”

Eloise nodded, “Yeah, I remember. And from what you had told me, it sounded pretty perfect you,”

Paige swallowed the lump in her throat as she plucked up the courage to continue, “Well, I applied for it, but I didn’t want to tell anyone in case I got my hopes up for nothing, but I’ve heard back. And they want me to start in a few weeks.”

Eloise mouth dropped; the corners of mouth tilted up as she stared at the blonde in surprise. She didn’t say anything at first, unable to find the words before she found the strength in her throat to let out a subtle shriek of joy before leaning over and wrapping her arms around her friend. “Paige, that’s great news! This is fantastic!” Paige’s arms were felt around Eloise’s shoulders, a gentle appreciative laugh coming from her nude coloured lips.

“Do you think I’m crazy for doing it?” Her voice spoke softly in Eloise’s ear, wonder lacing the sweet sound. Eloise pulled away from the hug, sitting back in her previous position as she studied the puzzled face of the gifted individual in front of her. “I mean, packing up my entire life and shipping it across to Atlanta, Georgia wasn’t exactly how I imagined myself taking the next step.”

“You’re not crazy,” Eloise assured her, “Trust me, this is the right thing for you to do. This is the big push you needed; I can feel it.”

Although she was excited for Paige, Eloise could feel her heart sink ever so slightly at the realisation of Paige’s departure. She knew she was selfish for feeling sorry for herself due to her friend’s success, thinking about how she was being left behind, being abandoned by someone she cared about so they could go and explore a new chapter of their life meanwhile she was left in New York to live the same old shambled chapters she knew would repeat. She needed to pull herself back again. This was Paige’s happy moment, she needed to embrace it for her. Paige didn’t seem too ecstatic about it herself, so, Eloise needed to be the one to fuel the excitement for her.

“You’ll be a right o’ southern belle by the time you come back and visit,” Eloise joked, trying to find some humour in the situation, trying to bring the mood back up, trying to make Paige moving to be a positive experience, “You’re gonna be that woman who owns a big ranch-style house and starts preparing for Thanksgiving three months early.”

Paige’s wide smile couldn’t be hidden as her laugh erupted from her gut, her hand slapping her knee at her friend’s poor excuse of a joke. It was the simple, but terrible, comedy that she would miss when she moved to Atlanta. Of course, she would make new friends, she knew that, but they wouldn’t be able to replace the close ones she had made throughout her years of living in the Big Apple.

“Have you told Roman about the job?” Eloise asked, her fingers raking through her dark hair, pushing the few straggling strands back into place. She could sense by Paige’s grimace that she had told him, and it obviously didn’t go too well. “How’d he take it?”

Paige let out a slow breath, leaning back on her hands as she tilted her head back, sunglasses resting comfortably against her nose as they protected her baby blues from the harsh rays. “He’s not exactly talking to me right now, it’s like being with a moody teenager. It’s like every time I try to have a conversation with him, he just brushes it off or excuses himself and says he’s busy.” Her heart clenched at the struggle she knew she was going through with Roman, their relationship always being one of compromise and conversation. They had always been able to talk things through; it was quite something if this transition was going to be what broke them.

“Have you thought about asking him to move with you?” Eloise spoke out, cautiously as she attempted to approach the matter with care, knowing that it probably wasn’t Paige’s favourite topic of conversation, “Could he not transfer to another school for work? I imagine Atlanta has plenty of high schools across the city, it wouldn’t be difficult for him to get a job over there.” She knew Roman had always been the stubborn one out of their friends, always having a plan for himself and that being the way it had to be done, no exceptions. Maybe that’s why he was so successful in his career.

Paige shook her head, pushing herself to sit up straight, pulling her knees up so they went up against her chest, her bare arms wrapping around them. “He’s already fought enough to get his professors to place him in a school in New York so he could stay at home, he won’t want to move again. So, I think we’re just going to do long distance, I just… I also just don’t think he’s ready to commit to the big step of moving to a new city, getting a place together, or being solely independent right now. El, you know I would love for him to come with me, but I know he’s not ready for that, not yet anyway,” She sighed, her eyes sparking in the sunlight, before she could add, “Jackson actually called me last night to talk about Roman. Apparently, he called him not long after I told him about Georgia, he said he was crying about how I was leaving and how he felt as though I was running away from him but then he even admitted that he’s too afraid to commit to the move, he claimed that he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do.”

“Paige, you know he loves you so much,” Eloise tried to assure her friend, “He’s smitten and it’s painful to watch if I’m honest with you. Maybe this is what he needs; for you to move and start your next chapter on your own, maybe this will the kick up the ass he needs to know that you’re his whole life and nothin’ else makes him as happy as you do.”

Paige covered her face with her hands, her palms rubbing her soft skin as she let out a quiet groan of frustration before looking up and meeting Eloise’s caring gaze. “Jackson said the same thing. He told me this is what Roman needs for him to realise if I’m what he really wants.”

“I wouldn’t have put it quite like that. Paige, y’know that he wants you and only you, it’s more that he just needs a push to realise that he’s more in love with you than what he thinks.” Blue eyes met brown yet again as a deadpanned expression spread across the blonde’s face, a look that spoke a thousand words but one that also realised that Eloise had a point. Roman was deeply in love with Paige, he just needed to realise it.

“Can we change the subject now? I didn’t think me announcing my promotion would result in mini pity party for myself,” The blonde’s voice tried to speak more clearly, more confident as if she were trying to push back her emotions about her current situation and find a distraction, “What’s been going on with you lately? I haven’t seen you properly since your birth- “

Paige was cut up the sound of a phone beeping, looking towards where Eloise’s device lay next to her, unable to help as her eyes peered over and spotted the name that rested above a notification of a text message. Eloise grabbed the phone from beside her, her eyes spotting the name and trying to stop the tickling flutter of her heart as she opened it and read the text message from Calum.

I was thinking we could do a movie night or something? I’ve got Saturday night off if you’re free - I can pick you up and we can hang out. How does that sound?

Eloise had begun writing out her reply, her fingers quickly working against the screen before Paige’s voice stopped her halfway.

“Who’s Calum?”

Eloise prayed that the redness in her face could be played off as being caused by the heat of the sun, feeling the heat radiating throughout her entire body as she glanced up at Paige’s perfectly sculpted face that stared at the nerve-struck girl. Why she was getting nervous? Sometimes Eloise forgot that there were people in her life that weren’t linked to the game of the Gypsy Kings, forgetting that some people she spent time with had good intentions, some who only saw her as Eloise and not a Gypsy King.

“Do you remember when we were at Moxi’s for my birthday, and there was a guy at the bar that Mia kept pointing out to me?” Eloise spoke as she continued to type out her response to Calum’s text message before sending, I’m not 100% sure what I’m doing on Saturday, but I’ll get back to you on that. A movie night sounds good though, do I get to pick?

She wasn’t lying. She knew there was some business that needed taking care of in regard to the protection service plan she had come up with as a method of making money within the gang. She recalled Han mentioning that he and Jay had discussed rates and he had a potential client who was interested, but what she didn’t know was when exactly any details would be put in place or confirmed. It was quite literally being played by ear, just how she hated it.

She locked her phone and placed it back down onto the ground beside where she sat, her fingers brushing against the short green grass briefly before crossing her legs and resting her nimble hands in her lap. “I ended up running into him later on that night, we got talking and next thing I know I’m in the back of cab with him, kissing him, and before I can even register where I am, we’re at his house an- “

“Hold the fucking phone!” Paige yelled out, stopping Eloise in her tracks, she leaned forward as if to hear her better, her jaw nearly hitting the floor as her eyes were as wide as bowling balls, “You mean to tell me; that you pulled a guy, who had been watching you the entire night, went back to his place and slept with him?!”

“You’re getting ahead of yourself,” Eloise let out a gentle chuckle as she shook her head, “I never slept with him. I chickened out; I couldn’t bring myself to do it. But for some reason, he still asked me to stay the night.”

“This is definitely something that could only happen to you,” Paige shook her head twice as she smiled, “So, what? You guys just cuddled and kissed throughout the night and now you’re texting?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Eloise realised a breathy laugh, a smile resting across her face as she thought about how odd it sounded. It did sound like something almost out of movie. Very odd indeed.

“Please tell me you have a photograph of him, or you can find him online or something? I’m sorry, but I can’t believe that you, Eloise Gray, actually committed the moral sin of pulling a guy at a bar when you’ve refused point blank to do anything along those lines for years, until I see photographic evidence of this man,” Paige wiggled her fingers in a ‘give’ motion to Eloise, waiting for the photograph of the man she claimed to be talking to.

Eloise rolled her eyes as she pulled open her text thread with Calum, scrolling through the recent conversation before finding what she was looking for. Calum had sent her a picture that morning; he was taking Duke out for a walk and had snapped a quick picture of himself and the pup and sent it to Eloise with the message, Before my dog and a trail of mud ruin my shoes, pray for me please. She chuckled to herself before clicking on the photo, enlarging it on her screen before handing the device over to Paige who gasped almost instantly at the sight on the screen.

If Paige’s eyes could have rolled out of her head then they would have in that moment, her jaw once again connecting with the floor. Eloise held back the awful the joke of needing to pick it up for her. She watched as Paige’s ocean eyes dissected the photograph, obviously taking longer than necessary. It wasn’t much longer before the phone was handed back to Eloise, it being locked and returned to the ground as Paige’s expression never faltered.

“If the wind changes your face is gonna stay like that.” She spoke in joking tone, laughing breathily as she watched the maths in Paige’s head try to add up what she had just seen.

“El, listen to me, you know that I love you very much, so what I’m about to say, I mean in the nicest way possible,” Paige began, her hands gentle waving around as if to try and portray that she was figuring out her words as she went, “You’ve got to be shitting me, right! El, he is gorgeous! How did you not sleep with him?”

Eloise rolled her eyes yet again, practically slamming her head into her hands as she held back a groan mixed with a laugh, shaking her head, and letting out an overexaggerated sigh before looking back up at the blonde. “Because it would seem as though I have some self-respect,” She stated, tilting her head to side ever so slightly, raising her eyebrows.

“You need to arrange a date with him, like right now, like right this very minute,” Paige insisted, pointing at the mobile phone that lay next to Eloise’s thigh, “You’re crazy if you don’t, considering you’ve apparently been texting since you left that man with blue balls, so clearly he’s got some interest.”

“Just because we can have a conversation after I nearly slept with him, doesn’t mean I need to go on a date with him,” Eloise shrugged, knowing that she wasn’t going to win this argument that she was starting with Paige, already witnessing the frustration grow on her friend’s fair face.

“Eloise, I swear to god, if you don’t go on a date with this man, I think I might combust!”

“That’s very extreme, Paige.”

“Just go on a date with him please, if it’s awful then fine; you don’t see him again.” Paige practically begged.

“Why are you pushing so hard for me to go on a date with him? And how do you know if I haven’t already?” Eloise quirked an eyebrow, smirking at catching her friend out on her words.

“Because this is the first time that I’ve known you t- I’m sorry, what did you just say?” The blonde stopped herself midsentence, needing to make a doubletake to be sure she heard Eloise correctly, “You’ve already had a date? El, why didn’t you just say that at the beginning?!”

“Because you never asked,” Eloise smirked, laughing wholeheartedly at her friend’s stunned expression, as if it irritated her that she never caught on quicker.

One of Eloise’s favourite pastimes had to be irritating her friends in the harmless ways of catching them out with small things like this, along with teasing them about matters she knew irritated them. It never came from a place of malice, only ever full of fun.

“Well, I hope you’re about to tell me how it went,” Paige’s perfectly plucked eyebrows raised along her smooth forehead, “You’ve kept me in suspense this long, I think the least you could do is fill me in on what godforsaken acts the two of you got up to on your date.”

Eloise couldn’t help as she bit the inside of her cheek, gnawing gently on the flesh as she recalled the night that Calum and she hadn’t stopped talking since. It was if she could still feel his touch of her waist, the searing heat of his hands making imprints on her body that she couldn’t get rid of. She could still feel the light stubble of his chin scratching against her palms, neck, and shoulder as he kissed her. She hated that she remembered it so well, hating that she had to admit to herself that she enjoyed it. She wasn’t supposed to revel in the feelings he gave her. She was supposed to pretend that she did.

It was almost like the feeling ate away at her, but she enjoyed it. She liked the feeling the thought of Calum and that night gave her. It scared her nonetheless but yet she still had an inkling to feel it again. Was she losing her mind? Possibly.

She recalled to Paige about how his home was bigger than her apartment; the living alone being close to the size of both her own living room and kitchen combined. The details of how she discovered that Calum had a dog flowed from her lips, laughing as she admitted that she would have accepted his date offer a lot quicker if she had known about the dog beforehand. She got excited over the food that she found in his kitchen, explaining how he insisted they order takeout but she couldn’t stop wanting to eat some of the leftovers he had – having not had a proper homecooked meal like that in what felt was forever – and it being one of the best things she had ever tasted.

The smile on Eloise’s face only grew as she talked where he was from, how his family were living in separate parts of the world, highlighting how amazing it must be to be able to travel to those places and be reunited with his family after time apart.

“Okay, and then what happened?” Paige pushed for more, leaning forward as if she was a child at story time. She thrived off of romance stories, basking in people’s tales of first dates and romantic proposals, only fuelling her urge as the hopeless romantic that she was.

Eloise froze for a moment, sighing as she knew there was something she had forgotten to mention about Calum. She didn’t fear Paige’s reaction, knowing that she wouldn’t react like some, but she knew that with her next statement, there would only be a response of concern for Eloise. Guess she better get on with it…

“We talked about his job for bit as well,” Eloise nodded, letting out a sharp exhale before she looked over at Paige to watch her reaction to her following words, “It turns out he’s a detective in the NYPD.” Her brown eyes watched as Paige’s body stopped in place, her eyes blinking a few times before she slowly leaned back into a normal seated position, her face puzzled as she tried to muster the courage to say the words on her tongue.

“He’s a cop?” Eloise couldn’t decide whether Paige was making a statement or asking a question, her lips remaining parted as if she was going to continue, “El, a-are you sure? I mean, I know I’m not involved in the whole gang lifestyle but… El, surely this isn’t good. What if they find out? What’s going to happen?”

“You don’t need to worry about it, it’s alright,” Eloise shook her head, trying to keep her voice calm as a way of reassuring Paige’s concerned demeanour, “It’ll work itself out, I can feel it.”

“Are you that’s not just paranoia of someone shooting you for dating a cop that you’re feeling?” Paige spoke through gritted teeth, keeping her voice quiet as if it were a secret.

Eloise was thankful for friends like Paige who weren’t involved in the same affiliations as she was. She knew that Paige would be supportive of her decisions but at the same time, she would show more concern for Eloise’s wellbeing, acting as a friend rather than a member she ran with. Eloise had found that her friends like Paige and Roman had more compassion than the others within the Gypsy Kings.

“Like I said, it’ll be fine,” Eloise repeated, her voice stronger this time, trying to solidify the assurance in Paige that it would truly work out. Of course, Paige didn’t know the whole story but that’s fine. That’s the way Eloise needed to keep it.

She couldn’t help but note the shift of tension between them; nothing but worry in Paige’s eyes for her dear friend who was doing something that she couldn’t decide if she would label it as reckless or plain stupid. Eloise could see the mental fight Paige was having with herself over if she should discourage Eloise or if she should give in to her antics and allow for her friend to be happy in a romantic setting. Only Paige didn’t know the actual reason as to why she even in a romantic setting.

But it was the next question that followed that relaxed Eloise, giving her the comfort that she didn’t quite know she wanted. Or needed. She felt a makeshift weight practically lift as Paige let out an understanding breath and asked, “So, does it he look good in his uniform?”

Eloise couldn’t stop the thankful smile from creasing her lips, silently thanking Paige for trusting her words that she couldn’t even be one hundred percent trusting in herself.

“I’m still yet to see the full blues,” Eloise chuckled, “But I think they only wear those for formal police matters, if they’re attending a gathering with the commissioner or something along those lines. I’m not too clued up on how it works honestly.”

Eloise continued to talk about the date, mentioning how they found common ground of knowing people who had the same character. She missed out a few bits and pieces, dismissing Paige from having to know the full details of their discussions. Her smile returned when she thought about the turn that the date took when they were sat on the couch. She described how his eyes were darker than her own but yet somehow brighter, she swore she could see gold in them if she looked hard enough. She smiled at Paige’s small coos throughout the story, a fond smile spread across her face as she listened while Eloise reminisced about her forbidden night with the detective. She laughed as she talked about how she didn’t even hear her phone ring when she was kissing him, as if she had become deaf to all that surrounded her.

“Wait, who was calling you?” Paige asked, eyebrows furrowed as she watched Eloise look up at the sky, as if she was watching a moving picture of her night in the bright landscape.

“Scott,” Eloise scoffed, shaking her head barely before she looked over at her blonde companion of the day, “He called me because he had an emergency which he needed me to help with. Apparently, there was no one else he could call without being told to ‘get over it’.” She raised her fingers and air-quoted the words, unable to hold back the laugh at the memory.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Paige laughed out loud, a slight groan escaping as she playfully slapped Eloise’s leg a few times, “He cockblocked you!”

Eloise couldn’t hold back the giggles as they continued to erupt, shaking her head in agreement. “I felt bad for Calum a little bit. I had to apologise and tell him that my best friend was having a crisis and I needed to go and help him.”

“That poor man.” Paige said through the laughs, trying to sound of sympathetic as possible. She rubbed her face with her freehand, her cheeks beginning to ache a little from laughing, “So, what was Scott’s crisis if it was so urgent that it quite literally broke up your date?”

“Do you remember that Lydia girl that he disappeared with in Moxi’s?” Eloise asked, gaining an immediate nod in response from Paige, “Well, apparently she had turned up at my apartment demanding to speak to Scott and thought that my apartment was his. She was kicking and screaming at the door, so she phoned Scott and told him to come out and speak to her- “

“But she’s outside your apartment in Sunset Park, and doesn’t he live over in Mapleton- “

“Exactly! So, he headed over to try and stop her from breaking my door down. And when he got there, all my neighbours were standing around and asking why there was a girl outside my apartment having a meltdown, which only got worse when she saw him. And from what Scott told me about why she was upset, I don’t think he called her back after she left him a voicemail asking to see him again and she didn’t take it too well, so, she thought it would be a good idea to come and confront him in person.” Eloise struggled to hold a straight face as she recalled the words Scott had spewed out to her a few nights ago.

“So, you were called – why? Because it’s your apartment or did he actually need you to do something?” Paige questioned, looking at Eloise with perched brows as if waiting for the punchline.

“Here comes the best part; Scott asked me to escort her out of the building because he was too afraid.”

“Hold on, just wait- wait a minute… Scott was too scared to ask a girl to leave because she was crying, so he calls you, a fellow girl, to come and get rid of his problem? And yet, he can fire a gun and not flinch?” Paige asked, waving her hand around as she was piecing it together, gaining a nod from Eloise. She had summed it up perfectly. Paige’s face fell into her hands as she tried to hold in her laughter, fighting the urge to allow the entire park to hear her. Eloise joined her in the laughter, her hand coming up and wiping away the small water leaks from her eyes before she tried to catch her breath.

It took a few minutes for them to compose themselves, the harmless laughter still being shared between them as they sat again and enjoyed their time together in the park, embracing the few hours they could spend with one another before they were separated by busy schedules. Mainly Paige’s.

But unfortunately for Eloise, she was about to be brought back down to earth from her short, temporary high, Paige’s voice asking her a question she had hoped she would avoid.

“You know I hate to be a negative Nancy but, El, do you realise how bad it looks for a goddamn criminal to be dating a cop? Even you have to see how alien that is, and I hope you know what you’re doing because the last thing I want- “

“Do you wanna know something, Paige?” Eloise scoffed, her tongue poking the inside of her cheek as she took a shaky but angry breath, trying to contain her sudden frustration with her friend, “I’m not worried about it. It’s almost as if for the first time, I feel normal. When I think about him or I’m with him, I feel like a normal twenty-one-year-old. I feel like I’m your average young adult who is dating someone just as average. But now I think I actually like him and that’s what fucking scares me. I’ve never been afraid of someone holding a gun to my head, or someone coming at me with a knife, but all of a sudden, I like somebody who might even like me back, and I feel like I’m dying insi- “

Her voice cracked throughout her rushed statement, her voice and emotions taking over as she let the words spew from her mouth without even thinking about them. Did she just –

“So, you like him?” Paige’s voice piped up, looking at Eloise as she waited for an answer, “You like Calum?”

Eloise thought for a moment. The obvious answer was for her to say ‘yes’. It was the easy answer for her to give, the ploy of the Gypsy Kings sitting in the back of her mind as she thought of her answer, but also the way her heart quivered at the thought of his smile. She fought over why the answer was so easy, was it because she knew that it made the plan easier to work with? Or was it because she did? Did she really like Calum?

Her mind flooded back a few seconds to the statement she had just allowed to consume the space between her and Paige, allowing for the first time, her emotions about someone to be out in the open, for them to be said and shared with someone other than the voice in the back of her head. The realisation of her words set in, the discovery of the admission she had made sitting prominent in her mind as she looked for some sort of excuse as to why she had said it, a seed of doubt attempting to sprout as if on instinct, trying to figure out why she had just said all that. It was false, wasn’t it? She didn’t feel all those things for Calum. She barely knew him.

But if that were the case, why did she find her heartbeat picking up at the thought of telling someone she liked him? Why did she enjoy the flutter of butterflies within her stomach as she thought of him on each of those nights? Why did she try and play the psychology game, trying to believe she had somehow psyched herself into feeling this way for the sole purpose of the scheme following through?

Why couldn’t Eloise just admit to herself that what she had just said out loud was the truth?

And then she surprised herself.

“Yeah I do,”

Paige’s teeth were showing in her smile, her hand reaching out and wrapping around her dear friend as she pulled her into a hug, squeezing her gently. It shouldn’t have been such a big moment for Eloise to admit she had some form of feelings, but it was. It was a moment that Paige had never seen before; none of her friends had seen this moment before when it came to Eloise.

“I don’t know how to describe it,” Eloise’s voice began to speak, quiet and almost uncertain as if every sentence was a question, “It feels I’m going to be sick every time I see him. It feels like I can’t think straight without something about him appearing in my mind, or I see something that makes me think of him. I don’t know how to feel other than as if I’m on fire, as if someone’s dipped me in gasoline and set me alight.”

Paige’s expression was one of admiration, basking in the admission she had just witnessed, watching as Eloise discovered what it felt like to be attracted to someone in a way other than through a physical connection. It was a proud moment, one that Paige didn’t want to take away from Eloise, one that she wanted to allow the brunette to cherish for as long as she could.

“It’s like I have no control over it,” Eloise let out a breath, staring down at her hands as if they were foreign objects, things she had never seen before, “I don’t know what this means and that’s what scares me.”

And if Eloise thought she was scared of her own feelings; she truly hadn’t known what fear felt like until Paige spoke.

“You’re in love.”

It was if the air in her lungs suddenly evaporated, disappearing at the speed of light as she stared at Paige with an incredulous look on her face. She was certain she had heard wrong, refusing to the believe that word had just been spoken in regard to how she was feeling. There was no way that Eloise felt that, not with knowing what was brought along as baggage as if in a holy matrimony.

“Don’t be stupid, Paige, I’m not. I said I liked the guy, that doesn’t mean that I’m in lo- “

She couldn’t even bring herself to say the word, the word itself brought an uncomfortable queasy sensation to her stomach. And not the one she felt previously and guiltily enjoyed when she thought of the Australian officer. She shook her head at the thought, refusing point blank to even consider such a word for a man she had only technically been on one date with.

“You know I’m right.” She smirked, nudging Eloise’s t-shirt clad shoulder. Eloise reached to the ground, finding the sleeve of her leather jacket she was sitting on, allowing her fingers to fiddle with the material and roll up the sleeve, as if it were an attempt to briefly distract herself from the words of Paige Romanoff.

“I know you’re ridiculous.” Eloise countered, sighing as she dropped her jacket sleeve and picked up her phone, unlocking it to find the picture of Calum still on her screen from when her phone was last open. She took a deep breath as she returned to the text thread, letting her fingers work as she tried to piece together a sentence to send to him, her body rushing ahead before her mind had a chance to take a moment and realise what she was doing. Before she could think about her actions, she had pressed send.

It looks like I’m free on Saturday. I’ll get the train into Queens and meet you at your place just after 6 if that works for you. Guess I’ll see you then.

“That better be you arranging another date,” Paige’s eyebrows wiggled at the phone, smirking at Eloise’s subtle concentration as she wrote out the text before she locked her phone and put it away.

Eloise half-rolled her eyes at the blonde’s comment, shaking her head lightly before her lips pursed and she found herself asking, “Why does the word ‘date’ suddenly sound so dirty coming from you?”

“Because you know that it’s more than that,” Paige teased, her shoulders rising as she rubbed her hands together, “You’re finally letting your heart make decisions for you, and for the first time in your life, it looks like you can trust it.”

“If I can trust my heart, then why do I feel like it’s only going to betray me and let me drown when it all goes wrong?”

Paige couldn’t handle her frustration, her hand raising in the air for a second before lowering back down as she composed herself, “I swear, El, I am this close to hitting you one day,” She showed her index finger and thumb mere millimetres apart, “I don’t think you realise how afraid you are sometimes. You’re so scared of letting yourself be happy that you talk yourself into seeing people as only being something that will hurt you, and before they even have a chance to prove you wrong, you push them away. And maybe for the first time in the time that I’ve known you, Eloise, you may just be starting to let your guard down a little. This is a good thing.”

“So basically, what you’re saying is I self-sabotage?” Her cocoa-coloured eyes squinted a little at Paige as if trying to force the admission out of her, her chapped lips rolling into her mouth.

“What I’m saying, El, is that you’re so scared of letting people see the real you that you block them out before they have a chance. And it’s about time people got to see you for who you really are. Because believe it or not, but you’re pretty fucking fantastic. Let them see you for once.”

Paige’s words struck a chord within Eloise that she didn’t see coming. The string of words resonated with the scared young woman who sat opposite her blonde friend. Maybe Paige was right? Maybe it was all just because she was scared? Maybe people did have good intentions, but Eloise was too blinded by her fear of being hurt that she eliminated all possibilities; good and bad. She was too afraid to be loved and abandoned that she banished all the chances of feeling that again.

Maybe it was time that changed.

*****

22 Days Left

It was colder than usual for New York, especially in August. The gentle breeze drifting through the city only adding the chill Eloise tried to protect herself from, a maroon hoodie being worn beneath her jacket as an extra layer. Her back was resting against a brick wall behind her, her left foot perched up on it also as she stood opposite the familiar face of Han, the only light source coming from the unstable neon sign above them and the gentle amber glow that flowed from the windows of the bar they stood outside. The pink light giving a rosy tinge to their skin tones, making them seem almost as if they were shadows in the alley without it.

Eloise stood with one hand in her jacket pocket, her phone in the other as she mindlessly swiped through Twitter, her eyes only skimming the brief paragraphs of words that people spilled on the bird-themed app.

It was late. It was very late. Eloise spotted the clock at the top of her phone screen, sighing as she thought about how this had become a normal sociable hour for the likes of her. It was coming close to one in the morning, the dark sky canvasing the city as it remained lit with the help of streetlamps, although many of them were broken and would only let out a flicker of a golden light every so often. The alley was practically silent around them, the only sound being the rare car that passed along the road on the other side of red building.

Well it would have been silent if Han didn’t make his voice known, disturbing Eloise from her peaceful interaction with her mobile phone.

“Jay’ll be out soon and then we can get going, this is the last stop for the night,” Han rested a hand on the back of his head, attempting to secure the grey beanie he wore that had begun to slip, “Mooney just needs to pay up and then- “

“What’s Mooney even paying for? He’s a businessman - a successful one at that - what business does he have with Jay that makes him drag us out in the middle of the night?” Eloise sighed, exasperated as she slid her phone back into her pocket, as she looked at the face which she knew all too well.

“Mooney needed a job done a while back, and Jay offered to do it for a good price. It’s been three months since Mooney’s problem was taken care of and Jay still hasn’t seen a penny, so he wanted to call in and at least get a down payment on what he’s owed.”

Eloise raised her eyebrows knowingly, her tongue pushing against her bottom lip before speaking. “And by ‘down payment’ you mean he’s going to take exactly what’s owed. I know as well as you do, Han, Jay doesn’t do things by halves. But why are we here, last time I checked, Jay can handle himself, can’t he?”

“He just wanted some backup in case things got rowdy and they didn’t want to pay up. Think of it as a way of stopping Mooney from doing something stupid.” Han dropped his head a little, eyes meeting Eloise’s brown ones as he let the right corner of his mouth quip up.

It wasn’t Mooney who they needed to worry about doing something stupid. Eloise knew that, and so did Han although he didn’t want to admit it. Jay always tended to get ahead of himself in situations like this.

Eloise let herself focus on the faint sound of chatter and music she could hear from a few buildings over, smiling briefly at the thought of the club that had recently opened on the street behind Mooney’s; the new attraction being at the very end of the road but yet the music was so loud she could still hear it. She recognised the song, tapping her foot along to the beat in the hope of making time pass by quicker if she lost herself in the music.

A presence was felt next to her, a warm shoulder nudging against her own before her eyes met Han’s cold ones yet again. He had shifted to stand beside her, his back resting against the same wall as he searched his pocket for the very thing that Eloise rolled her eyes at the sight of. “You know if this gang doesn’t kill you then those definitely will.” She scoffed, sighing as she watched Han pluck a white cigarette from the tattered box, his other hand holding his lighter.

It was a habit she never understood, one that she never got into. She didn’t hate smoking; it just wasn’t her thing. She watched as the amber light sparked from the tip of the lighter, the end of the cigarette sizzling softy against the flame before Han took his first drag of the sin, holding his inhale for a few seconds and basking in the gentle burn the filled his lungs before the grey smoke escaped his lips in a long exhale, “I think I’ll take my chances.”

Eloise shook her head, rolling her eyes as she watched the man who she had grown up with smoke what she assumed to be his hundredth cigarette that day. Okay, maybe not his hundredth but at least double digits.

“You haven’t said much about the plan in the past few days, since I rumbled you about your little escapade you’ve been practically void,” Han gently coughed as he held the cigarette between his index and middle finger, his spare hand resting by his side, “Care to give me an update on our little cop friend and you? How far along we are?”

Eloise fought against her natural instinct to freeze, focusing to keep her body as casual as possible, to control her heartbeat, breathe, as well to try and prevent her voice from shaking nor cracking. Why did she have to so much work into trying to sound convincing? Oh yeah – she admitted that she may or not actually like the man who’s she’s supposed to be pretending to like. Something that almost felt as if it was a mild form of Stockholm Syndrome, but instead she was beginning to feel a warmth inside of her for the man she was supposedly lying to, the man she was setting up, the one who she was betraying. She hated that she felt guilty about it: for both Calum and the Kings. They were all she had ever really known, they had taken her in and protected her when she was at her worst, Han specifically, taking her in an older brother and making sure she was cared for.

Eloise couldn’t help but feel as though she was throwing everything that he had done for her right back in his face, all because she let her heart get in the way. But at the same time, she couldn’t bring herself to agree to throwing Calum out of the plane without a parachute, something inside of her didn’t want to hang him out to dry.

The brunette worked to keep her expression stale as she responded to Han, “As good as we can hope. I’ve been working my way into him bit by bit, now I just need to figure out who I slip in that I’m a one of us and pray that he doesn’t arrest me on the spot. This is hard bit, Han. If he reacts how most cops would, then this whole plan goes up in smoke.”

“Then don’t let him react like most cops,” Han responded with ease, “Tell me who you are. Lie to him more, tell him you want out and you need his help to do that. El, if I’m being honest, it doesn’t seem like it’s the hardest thing you need to do. Just tell a few lies, what harm is it doing?”

A lot is what she wanted to say but she bit her tongue. “Fine. Let’s see how long it takes for him to shoot me once I reveal the news.”

“Don’t be overdram- “

Han’s words were cut short by the sound of a gunshot echoing from inside the bar. Heavy footsteps carried Eloise and Han inside through the back of the bar, bursting through the stockroom door that connected into the main common area. The sight that greeted them was one that neither expected to see that night. Well, they had hoped not to.

Eloise’s shocked eyes were drawn to the floor, witnessing the aftermath of the explosive gunshot she had heard when she was outside. A young boy was lying on the wooden floor of the bar, a seeping bloody wound in his chest as he gasped for air, his hands sprawled against the floor as if the shot had paralysed him. His blond hair stuck to his sweat-covered forehead, his chest shaking as he tried to breathe through what Eloise could only imagine was a horrendous pain. He didn’t look old enough to be involved in whatever business Jay was conducting inside the bar, he was so young. She saw the small scattering of acne scarring on his cheeks, god he was only a kid. He must’ve been sixteen, barely, and yet he was lying there on the bloody floor fighting for his life.

She could see Mooney stood by the bar, his eyes shining as tears flowed and he reached out as if to try and touch the boy though the distance between them didn’t allow him to do so. A million emotions were encrypted on the man’s face: fear, sadness, desperation, and anger were the prominent few. It was if someone flicked a switch in her head that allowed her to create the link between the shaking body on the floor and the man across the bar; it was Mooney’s son.

Thoughts were rushing through Eloise’s mind at a million miles an hour, her hands shaking ever so slightly as she tried to figure out what happened. Her eyes met the tall body of Jay as he stood against the pool table in the centre of the room, wiping his hands on what she presumed to be a tea towel, her eyes meeting his briefly before his green connected with Han as he tossed the towel in his direction. Han caught it as if it were second nature, his fingers grasping the contaminated cloth as he stared at his friend in shock.

There were so many questions floating in the air that she wanted to ask, although clarification of what had happened wasn’t necessary, but she still found herself needing to hear it to believe it. Like the teenager on the floor who was grasping onto his life wasn’t enough of an indication of exactly what had unfolded.

“Jay, what – “

“He came out of nowhere, started waving a gun around and making threats,” Jay excused, a natural uncaring shrug rolling off his shoulders, “He was going on about how he was going to kill me if I didn’t get out. So, I taught him a lesson in why you don’t make empty threats to a Gypsy King.”

The way the excuse rolled off of his tongue just emphasised the snake that he was. A sick twisted creature who would do whatever it took to get what he wanted, without a care or second thought for those who stood in his way. His words stung Eloise’s ears as he spoke, each one laced with poison as he shrugged off a murder as if the victim was a used tissue.

The lack of a weapon next to the body only proved Jay’s lie, having no indication that the boy had raised a weapon. He probably didn’t even know how to use a gun.

“You murdered my son!” A voice cried out, the eyes in the room falling on the broken man who knelt by the bar, his face soaked from tears as his body shook in grief, “You killed my boy!”

The sound of Jay’s heavy footsteps echoed throughout the empty bar, his face being mere inches from the older man as he lowered to his level, raising a warning finger to the man known as Mooney, before he spoke in a quiet yet aggressive voice, “And you’ll be next if I don’t get my money. You’ve got three days and I’ll back. If I don’t see every single penny on that bar top by the time I come back then his life won’t be the only one lost in this bar, so take this as a warning.”

He was cold towards the grieving man, having no sorrow for what he had just taken from him. Eloise didn’t even register his hard shoulder pushing past hers as he shoved past Han and her, looking towards Han as he spoke quietly, “Clean up the mess before the cops get here.”

The fact that he discarded the boy as a ‘mess’ allowed Jay’s lack of empathy to shine through. The hollowness of his heart could be felt by everyone as he left the bar, the door slamming behind him as he abandoned the crime scene he had just created. This wasn’t right.

Eloise followed Han’s figure as he ran out of the bar behind Jay, keeping hot on his tail, as he let his voice yell out in frustration. She noticed how Mooney’s eyes never left his son’s body, the shaking of his chest matching the young boy’s as they both took what felt like their last breaths. Something that she couldn’t bring herself watch any longer, making her exit from the bar. She wanted to apologise to Mooney, to apologise to his son. But she couldn’t, she knew she wouldn’t be able to find the strength nor the words that he needed to hear. She doubted that Mooney himself even knew what those words were. The only thing she did know is that he would want Jay to pay for what he did.

“What the fuck happened in there?” Han was at the point of destruction, outraged and hot at the actions of his companion, “Jay, what fuckin’ happened?”

Jay let out an unbothered huff, finding his car keys in his pocket before making his way down the alley towards where his car was hidden away. He was walking away from his own mess that he created. He always walked away. “He had it comin’.”

That wasn’t the right thing to say. It only fuelled Han’s disbelief of what had erupted moments ago, his anger being released at full throttle as he out cried, “He was a kid, Jay. He was a fuckin’ kid, and you shot- You fuckin’ shot him as a warnin’!”

Eloise stood witness to Han’s anger unfolding, watching as how with each passing second, the events began to trouble him more and more; the consequences of Jay’s actions playing prominent in his mind as he shouted. She noted Jay’s face remained cold, unphased and stern as he watched Han’s emotions get the better of him for a brief few minutes. She couldn’t ignore the growing concern in her stomach, her eyes looking around at the dark alley, knowing it wouldn’t be long before the yelling match would be heard by a stranger passing by in the night resulting in an unwanted visit from the cops if the two men in front of her continued as they seemed fit.

The unbothered manner of which Jay handled Han’s accusations, the meaningless shrugs and rolls of his eyes only reminded her that this wasn’t the first time this kind of thing had happened. But never before, had he shot a kid. He used people as warnings all the time to get what he wanted, used rivals’ loved ones as persuasion tactics, playing with their life in order to gain control and power over a situation. He called everyone else around him soft, talking about them as if they were sand which crumbled and dissipated at the touch of someone’s hand. She could remember him yelling about how it’s people like him who have the drive to better their position in the world, to climb up the food chain to get to the top. She knew he wasn’t right; she knew he was truly the broken one in the Gypsy Kings. He was the one who had lost all control, never knowing when enough was enough.

It was Jay’s loud roar that caused Eloise to jump, her body not ready for the loud volume that erupted from him. Her eyes watched his as they stared into Han’s, a warning finger, much like the one he had at Mooney before, was raised in Han’s face as he spat out, “You’re gonna back off if you know what’s good for you. You’re going to go back inside that bar and clean up like I told you or else there’s gonna be a second body needin’ disposed of tonight, got it?”

Eloise couldn’t see Han’s face, but she could tell from the tense muscles in his shoulders that he was furious, a bitter, “Fine” being heard in the quiet of the night.

Jay took this as his queue to leave, slipping into his dark car, matching his heart, before he sped off down the streets of downtown Brooklyn, leaving Han and Eloise to face the music of the destruction he left in his path. It took a few minutes for Han to move, the towel still in his hands as he turned around and began to make his way back inside the bar, as if what Eloise had just witnessed never happened.

“What’re we supposed to do now?” Eloise’s quiet voice sounded louder in the dark of the night, her hands being tossed into her pockets as she tilted her head, waiting for a response from Han, the anger still visible on his face.

“We continue as normal,” He returned, scrunching the cloth in his left hand, “Nothing’s changed so we keep going.”

Eloise couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She had stood aside and watched Han lose his mind over the death of a boy and now he was saying they do nothing. This wasn’t the Han she knew. As much as Han was a stickler for the rules, she knew he couldn’t stand by and let this go.

“So, you’re just going to let this slide? Han, he’s getting out of hand and you know it. He’s taking things too far and he’s out of control… We’ve lost too many people on his watch and the city have lost too many at his hand. How many more innocent people have to die for you to realise that he’s out of his depth, as are you?” Eloise fought against the crack in her voice as she thought about the innocent life that was lost that night, trying to prevent herself from acting as though she had been the one to lose someone like the man inside the bar who would be grieving over a son.

“What else am I supposed to do, huh El? What choice do I have?” As much as she fought her own voice cracking under the pressure, she noted how Han didn’t fight his as he asked her the painful question. She knew it conflicted him, put him in a position that he didn’t like.

“We have rules for a reason, Han, and you kn- “

“Do you not think I fucking know that, El?! He has started a war that he doesn’t even know is coming. He’s just given every other gang in this entire city a reason to come after him once and for all, and they’ll be coming after us as well. He’ll get what’s coming to him, and he’ll finally pay for not playing by the rules.” Han let out a defeated groan, his hand ripping the beanie from his head as he threw it to the floor. “We’ll all be the ones paying for his actions.”

“And that’s what you want? You’re happy for us to stand back and let the others come and tear us all apart piece by piece all because Jay decided to go rogue. But until then, we’re supposed to just sit around like nothing has happened and wait for someone to decide that enough is enough. How long is that going to be?” Eloise rolled her eyes, unable to stop her voice getting louder as the anger inside her stomach bubbled, “It’s not good enough, Han.”

Angry was an understatement to the feeling that was shared between Eloise and Han. There wasn’t a word to describe the rage inside of them to its true extent. Eloise’s was mixed with sadness, sympathy lacing her voice as she thought about the grieving family who would never share a smile together with their son. She was getting too emotionally attached to those who were tied up with the Gypsy Kings; she knew that. She had known that since that night with Calum. Her emotions were going to be what destroyed her.

“I can’t just stand aside this time and wait for someone to come and kill me all because of his stupid mistake. I know what’s it’s like to lose everything to a stupid gan- “ She stopped herself, trying to hold her emotions together as her vision blurred with the salty tears, “I know what it’s like to lose someone and to never get the closure of knowing that those who did it paid for their actions. That family deserve that, it’s the least they deserve after tonight.”

“And that’s exactly what they’ll get if you just have patience. El, we still need to look out for ourselves. We’ve got just over three weeks until that shipment comes in, we’ve still got time to get through this and then we can run. We can take the money and get out of New York, we can leave Jay to his own devices and let him suffer the consequences. We just need to hold on, just until the deal is done.” Han looked desperate, as if searching Eloise’s eyes for some sort of answer to a question he didn’t know he was asking. Eloise could hear the struggle in his voice, she could see the tiredness in his eyes as he pained at the way she looked at him. It was as if he were stranger, someone she couldn’t recognise anymore; someone who was willing to play blind to death when they knew better. “Just please be patient, and we’ll work this out.”

The word sounded bitter to her, the thought of it against her tongue leaving a sour taste. Patience. How was she supposed to stand back and be patient when she knew a young boy wouldn’t graduate high school and go off to college? How was she supposed to be patient when she knew a family would be planning a funeral that they never should’ve needed to? How was she supposed to be patient when she would stand opposite the man who took an innocent life and act as though it was nothing? She couldn’t grasp how that was expected of her. She had witnessed an innocent’s death before, but this time it was different. It was never a child. Never.

Her eyes fell to her boots as she scuffed them along the ground, taking a shaky breath as she tried to compose herself, tried to withhold her emotions as Han called out her name. She painfully allowed for her brown eyes to meet his broken ones, expression stoic as she nibbled at the skin on the inside of her lip, unable to trust herself to make a verbal response to his call.

“Let’s get this over with, I’ll do the dirty work. You need to talk to Mooney.” Han’s voice sounded disappointed as they made their way back inside of the bar.

The body still lay there in position, shirt stained with the crimson as an older man lay over the body, shaking violently as he sobbed. The pain in her heart was excruciating as she watched, her eyes falling to Han as he kneeled next to the body and attempted to remove a crying father from his deceased son; a sight that she knew she would never be able to unsee. It felt like déjà vu, something that had happened before, but this time it was different. The memory bringing a tear to her eye and letting it fall down her supple cheek, her hand quickly wiping it away as she composed herself the best she could.

“Sal,” Her shaky voice whispered, her body moving along the floor before she kneeled next to the crying bar owner, knowing she had to play her part in this process. But this time not for the sake of the gang, this time for the sake of the grieving father, “You need to let him go, come on…”

The yell of the man by her side would never leave her, the outcry full of pain and desperation as the call out of his son’s name echoed in her ears for what she felt like forever. How was she supposed to just brush this off?

It was as if things finally began to make sense. Every sense of emotion she had been learnt to feel again since that night overwhelmed her. Her ignorance she had played on so often was non-existent as she felt nothing but sorrow, sympathy and pain for the boy who had died that night. She couldn’t help but feel as though she had a purpose, the urge of justice now coursing through her body as she held the crying man in her arms and tried to comfort him, offering him a shoulder to cry on as Han lifted the limp body and removed it from the bar.

Jay had been out of control for too long. The years of destruction and rage he endorsed on the city of New York were now breaking barriers and were impacting the gang in the complete opposite way of how they thought. It was going bad, really bad. Han’s reminder of how the city would come after Jay as a consequence played on Eloise’s mind, but she knew she couldn’t wait for that. She couldn’t play along with the Gypsy Kings’ game until that day came. She had sat back for too long and allowed for the people around her to decide her fate, to control what she did and how she lived her life to some degree.

It was about time she changed that. It was about time she took control and did something right.

Of course, she knew the consequences of her actions, knowing that if she followed through then it would mean everything she knew would be gone. She would be betraying her family, betraying her best friend, and betraying herself.

And she was more than willing to accept that. She couldn’t stand in the shadows any longer. It was time to change. It was time to end it all. It was time to make her real family proud.

--- 

Tag List: @steviemae​ @elsysoza​ 

[cheryls-blossomed]

I simply disagree that Trump incited violence. He spoke to a rally, which was also a protest. The right to assemble is in the Constitution. At no point did he tell them to be violent, he told them march to the Capitol. Many protests have occurred at the capitol. What actually set off the violence was Pence stating that he would not overturn the election results. The assembled protest quickly turned into a mob and the rest is history. I think Trump is stupid for not realizing that this could

otha(2) but he did not encourage violence. I don't like Twitter banning him for this because they are implicitly stating that people are responsible for the actions of another. Yes he said that he loved them, he also said to be peaceful, and go home aka stop being violent. Again, problematic but not inciting violence. All speech is protected, even that which is reprehensible. Even if it incites violence.

But who protects all speech? Where is all speech protected? The US Constitution does not protect all kinds of speech. And Twitter does not need to protect any speech, because the Constitution doesn’t apply to Twitter. Twitter, as a company, actually has a responsibility to not include hate speech and speech that incites violence on its platform. People get banned for far less on Twitter, but because of the immense privilege Tr.ump exercises on the platform, he wasn’t banned until after it was made evident that his speech can incite violence. 

Tr.ump is not stupid; he knew his speech could very well incite violence. It’s naive to think that he didn’t know well enough that his personal lawyer saying shit like “let’s have trial by combat,” or his son saying, “Stand up and fight,” or Ted Cruz saying, “We won’t go quietly into the night,” or Mo Brooks saying, “This is the day American “patriots” start taking down names and kicking ass (after stating that Democrats are the asses he’s talking about, because of the donkey symbolism), and Tr.ump, himself, saying, “If you don’t fight like hell, you’re not going to have a country anymore,” (all of which was said at the rally, except for Cruz, who said what he did, a bit earlier to a different group) could incite violence. And yes, Pence announcing that he literally cannot, as in he has zero power in this regard, to overturn the election is what was the tipping point, but Tr.ump has been stoking this for days in the lead up. He kept saying that it was on Pence to overturn the election. He kept pressuring him, and then claiming at his rallies and on twitter that if Pence doesn’t overturn the election, then he essentially betrayed Tr.ump and his supporters. When the news came out that Pence had publicly stated he will ensure certification of Biden’s electoral win, Tr.ump got on twitter and tweeted words against Pence that he doesn’t have the courage to “correct a set of facts,” once again stating that the votes Pence would oversee certification of that day were fraudulent, and THAT is what set the people in a frenzy. It was Tr.ump’s tweet about his Vice-President, from that morning, after he spoke at the rally. 

Tr.ump has been propagating a massive lie about election fraud. He had not one iota of evidence, but figured that he would do anything in his power to stay in power. It’s become VERY clear that these terrorists had inside help, from the fact that they knew where House Majority Whip Jim Clyburn’s office is, even though it is unmarked, where they trashed his office. A crazy Q-Anon House Rep from Colorado tweeted out Nancy Pelosi’s whereabouts. This was a planned assault on democracy, aided and abetted by members of Congress, who were egged on by Tr.ump. To think that Tr.ump wouldn’t stage a coup or incite a coup in order to stay in power is naive. He knew what could happen; he has known for weeks. Gabriel Sterling, the Republican COO of the Office of the Georgia Secretary of State said in early December that if Tr.ump continues engaging in the language that he is about fraud and rigged elections, he was going to get people killed. And guess what? Sterling was right. This was extremely foreseeable by literally everybody. 

Twitter’s decision was honestly just a protective one, partly of itself, because it doesn’t want to be the platform where Tr.ump can broadcast any more rhetoric that could incite violence. I can guarantee you that it was also a very reluctant decision, because Twitter allows politicians, especially presidents, a massive amount of privilege on its platform that it doesn’t afford to regular people. 

Anyways, we clearly disagree on the fundamentals here (i.e., you don’t think Tr.ump incited violence, whereas I do), so there’s no point going around in circles. We’re likely not going to convince each other of anything. 

[dunermacdonald]

Website SEO and ranking any website in less than 2 months

Ranking a Website and website SEO .

The process I would say is as follows

Buy domain with keyword in the title / URL- Google domains

Get hosting on a super fast host / Green geeks / English support for your website 24/7 / Simply amazing service.

Get wordpress - the rest are tedious - second option is a landing page I recommend another builder for small one page sites called swipe pages

Get a GMB - Google my Business profile - its Free and from Google and can be operated from your smartphone

Get Citations on fiverr - biggest draw card in local search - NAP being consistent.

Learn Basic SEO and web page optimization via the Moz Pie chart - This is your bible

Get a tracking software as you start your journey - Brightlocal $49 per month and you can help out 5 other businesses once you've taught yourself ...

Use the Semrush - Moz - Ahreffs free trial periods to learn SEO to a higher level

Build up your portfolio - get reviews for your GMB listing ,Facebook reviews ,Trustpilot reviews, be religious about this

Using Google analytics , free from Google analyse your traffic and see what content - search terms are relevant to your industry and site and add these with Fiverr to your site - get content written on Fiverr

Level Up - Get the paid version of Semrush - search your competitors back link profile

  Brightlocal ( has a great citation checking service ) or  you can properly check your competitors sites and emulate their strategy , get the same back links as them and get the same citations

Get reviews and add widgets to your website from Trustpilot - Facebook - and GMB widget - Wordpress has all these plugins to add widgets for free .Its proves multi platform credibility

Let me say from the start I knew nothing about ranking a website!

Well, I do now, but I did not when I started. I'm an electrician by trade.

The way I got into SEO has been a 3 year long journey .

I run my own electrical install and testing  company -www.zaelectrical.com

The company struggled to rank on first page and the Google map pack / snack pack

This was a problem I wanted to solve. How do I, a one man band, compete with established companies who have 20 + staff members and a budget of £2000 per month and then some?

Well, short answer is "Yes, you can!", but it took lots of research and trial and errors.

At first, I gave up.

I was interested in taking a stab at internet retail and I attempted selling products on Amazon in the USA.

9000 meters of climbing rope - 10m/ 20m /30m denominations / Unbranded

650 units of climbing chalk / Branded - XLR8

400 units of unbranded climbing chalk

I was out of my depth and had to study PPC via YouTube videos and it felt that I was fighting a losing battle. I barely broke even after Amazon's storage fees and monthly charges and charges for delivering my products from their warehouses. They also lost some of my stock ...

I then tried Shopify and the drop shipping model combined with  Facebook ads

This gave me back a glimmer of hope  that online sales were the way forward again , seeing the metrics of the impressions of advertising on a platform that works - Facebook

I eventually broke even, well sort of and vowed not to give up , but to take these lessons and try and apply the correct PPC to my business in the UK

ZA Electrical Ltd

OK, so here the journey technically starts:

Lots of videos on YouTube later

SEO experts - £200 a month for 4 months

Wiring up a friends house , which caused numerous rifts - in exchange for a website

Re-doing the website again myself with help from a person on Fiverr

And then having to do it again with help from a friend I met through a work contact  (He informed me that he was doing the bare bones site after I had given him an outline explaining that I had been let down time and time again)

He pulled the site together. Amen

I had super ambition and hoped it would rank immediately

Talk about living in a dream

I started to study with the same ambition I had applied to Amazon , every night after my day work I would study

Then things started to make sense to me.

You can't beat what already has been done - big companies can out budget you and out staff you every day of the week

So DO NOT reinvent the wheel I thought

What are they doing and how is that working ?

This is where having the right tools is my only chance, I decided.

Get a domain from Google Domains  with the main keyword in the title

Get a domain Host from Green Geeks - the fastest Host and 24/7 Helpline

The first thing I learnt is Google My Business - GMB

In the UK you have a big authority for trades called Checkatrade with unlimited budget and 2 million back links - Yes, 2 million

You wont beat these people so ...

Emulate - and over ride them

Step 1 -Cue- Moz Pie chart

This is a gem and started me on the road properly. It basically gives you a % of every item on the checklist to be completed for local and organic map positioning

So during studying I learnt the basics are ...

Buy a Domain on Google domains with your keyword in the title

Purchase hosting on a superfast Host - Green Geeks

Links and Authority

Google index Count

Link count

Linking Domains

Majestic C Flow

Domain Authority

Website age

Rank Checking

Google

Google Mobile

Google Maps

Bing

Bing Local

Google My Business

This is claiming your business on the GMB app and building your profile.I will elaborate further down on this Blog .

On site SEO of your Website

Page Load speed

Robots.txt

XML Sitemap

Errors

Internal links

URLs

SSL

SEO

Page Titles

Page descriptions

Open graph tags

Twitter card tags

Image alt tags

H1 Tags

Word count

Flash

Responsive design

Mobile friendly

Mobile load speed

Mobile rendering

Content

Address

Phone number

Schema.org Markup

Top Keywords

To do this I had to find a program that is both easy to navigate and understand I highly recommend BrightLocal

The process after getting my website to a reasonable level was to order citations on

Fiverr

The more niche, the better.

I recommend looking at your top competitors with

Brightlocal

and matching or ordering more citations through either

Brightlocal

I also looked at

Fiverr

, which is by far the cheapest option, but you have to research credentials and levels.

Look at your top competitors' keywords and then optomise your GMB listing together with your website to match those keywords and get content written for you on

Fiverr

, again check the sellers' credentials and level.

Backlinks ...Well, well, well....

This is not a quick process , the citations you order will help get backlinks too, but the quickest way is to ask other sites in your trade / profession to reference your site. This was my route on a budget, however there are so many ways. Google does not love you if you buy them and this is against their terms and conditions, so buy them on

fiverr

at your own risk. Just saying.

I had to teach myself a bit about Wordpress, which seems from all accounts the easiest to self teach, with tutorials on the web, also the SEO and range of plugins, both paid and free, outweigh any other website builder by a mile - this was a big thing for me anyway.

I would work on my reviews from each customer and once I started to see I was approaching 70+ reviews I started to see my rank increase in the local rankings for "near me" search terms

T

Step 2 Study some more -  a different set of tools

You tube - greatest invention of the 21st century

I would need to learn about my GMB listing and how to maximise it

Step 1 I had started - Logo - reviews - regular photos - weekly posts - Geo located and alt tag stuffed photos

step 2 study - Greg Gifford  - what a genius

Step 3 - better analytical tools - Semrush -

This  tool has a free trial period so if you want to try it you can cancel within the cool off period without being charged

Armed with a new arsenal I felt much more confident .

I can still see my DA is only 16 but my other signals - local authority and citations and reviews , outweigh my competitors ,after  altering my rich snippets , SEO title , Slug , meta description ,featured image of the rich snippets alt text ,title , captions, descriptions  ,

My rank shot up

So what I've learnt is that you can rank any website by starting locally then  moving to a wider audience you can rank any website with the right tools.

This is the process and steps I took

I'm currently bouncing between 1-2 position on Google maps and 2nd and 2-3rd position on organic rankings on Google .

Have fun and good Luck on ranking your website Everything you need is at your fingertips !

D R Mac Donald

info@zaelectrical.com

www.connectseo.uk

https://www.google.com/maps?cid=2908312518549373095

please contact me directly for help !

Whatsapp +44760037733

[rilakoya]

No Place Like Home

A Perspective! and Reality!AU

Word Count: 2.2K

Warnings: Raw honesty and social justice themes

A/N: Personal experiences ahead. I call it an AU because sometimes we’re so into escapism that reality feels like the fantasy. 

6:20 pm

“OMG, social media is so dead today!”

It’s Tuesday after the protests have begun, and my roommate is bitching and demanding his privilege. I like to believe that he means well, but he’s also a diva, and complaints are his forte.

“Well, it’s Blackout Tuesday-” I begin, but he cuts me off, eager to make his point, true to form.

“No, look, I get it. Really I do. But all I keep seeing is a black screen. I keep my phone on dark mode for a reason. I don’t want to have to keep downloading games because I need something to occupy my time today.”

Need. That’s definitely a feeling I’m familiar with. I need a sense of false security in order to leave my house and interact with others in a way that meets social expectations. I need a keen sense of self and social awareness and nimble cultural reflexes in order to ensure that I’m not perceived as angry or bitter in my responses to the way the world treats me. So what if I actually am, in fact, angry. Society has taught me that it deems my anger irrelevant, unworthy of notice, and I have been conditioned to recognize that showing it doesn’t get me what I want or need. Which makes me think again about my roommate’s commentary. He needs social media to be more lively, despite the fact that entire people groups are protesting unjust and inhumane treatment. And I need hope that my brothers won’t occupy body bags simply because they exist today.

I guess each person has their own struggles.

I’m a fiction writer. And at the risk of sounding boastful, I’m pretty good at it. But that’s just because good fiction requires a healthy dose of imagination, and I’m a master.

I have to be.

Every day since I was a little girl, I wake up and imagine that the fair rules of engagement apply to me. I imagine that I may expect the same level of courtesy and respect as my fairer-skinned counterparts.

In school, when my teachers would unspokenly expect me to work twice as hard to receive the same level of acceptance, I imagined that they did the same with all the children. When my scores indicated that I was a highly gifted student, multiple grade levels above my peers, but was frequently accused of cheating, plagiarism, and other forms of academic dishonesty because my superiors were unable or unwilling to accept that a little black girl could have possibly produced such results, I imagined a world where education systems were tailored to students and where teachers and administrators saw the value in children rather than just their preconceived notions about them because of the color of their skin.

When people granted me interviews because of the “normal” name on my resume and the professionally “white” sound of my voice, only to thank me after minimal interviews and promise to call once they saw me, I imagined that they recognized that my professional experience and qualifications were worth more than the wage that their budget permitted, instead of acknowledging that they often chose to hire someone who was less qualified but whiter than me, and when they paid said person more, I imagined that I probably wouldn’t have enjoyed doing that type of job anyway or working at that company anyway. Even though it was the same at many companies.

When people tell me that I am “pretty for a Black girl,” or “too pretty to ‘just’ be Black,” as though being Black isn’t already the most blessed form in creation, I imagine that what they’re really saying is, “you’re so fucking gorgeous that I don’t even know how to compliment you properly, so please forgive me while I babble like a moron and potentially insult you. I’m so awestruck that I just can’t help myself.”

I wrote my first smut during one of many unjust police stops, when the only purpose of the detainment was to harass me and remind me who was in control. I imagined that it was really a sexy roleplay and that I liked it. And when the trauma and anxiety of constantly wondering if I’m about to be stopped once again for Driving While Black threaten to be too much, I imagine that I’m really just in my house, writing it all down for a story. Even though the stories carry too much shame for me to comfortably share. I imagine that’s all just part of the process.

When I interact with the world, and no matter what, am told that I’m either “too much” or “not enough,” sometimes both at the same time, I imagine that what they’re really saying is that because I originate from the beginnings of creation, because I have both the secrets of the Earth and royalty in my blood, I don’t fit the mold, and they don’t know how to process my greatness. And this enables me to smile when I feel like shattering into a million pieces, when I’m reminded of how I don’t meet the social standard, how I don’t fit in.

Most of all, every day I imagine what it would be like to feel like I truly have a place on this vast Earth that I can safely call home. Home is where we are safe, where we are welcomed, where we belong.

I was born in Germany, but I don’t belong there.

I’ve lived in Mexico and Guatemala, but it’s not safe for me there.

Some of my ancestors were from Africa, but it’s a large continent, made up of many countries, all foreign to me because of cultural eradication, so I could visit, but really I don’t belong there.

My forebears were brought to the Americas as slaves, worked like dogs, and treated as less than animals, and although early settlers were considered “Americans” relatively quickly, after four centuries, I still don’t belong here.

I’m not even 40, but I was born during the Cold War, in a country that has successfully recovered from antisemitism, but not from antiblack sentiment.

Both of my parents were born before the Civil Rights Act was passed, in the middle of the Civils Rights Movement.

My grandparents were born near the end of the Great Depression and lived under Jim Crow law. My grandparents. The ones who told me stories while holding me on their knees, the ones who spent their lives sweating and striving for me to have better.

My grandma’s grandma was a slave. My dad remembers an aunt (a great-aunt) coming to his school in elementary to talk about the fact that she had been born a slave.

I think that people forget that it wasn’t that long ago, forget that the tyranny and oppression has gone on for so long.

They forget that Europeans have been enslaving Africans since the 15th century. For those who hated school, that means the 1400s. Slaves were brought to the Americas as early as 1503. The only reason we didn’t reach the country we now call the U.S. until the early 1600s was because it took England that long to decide to colonize the area.

They forget that in my great-great-grandparents’ time, in my great-grandparents’ time, in my grandparents’ time, at the time my parents were born, I could have been beaten, raped, falsely accused, cheated, ignored, taken advantage of, or killed just for the color of my skin.

They forget that, 401 years later, 155 years after the Civil War, 157 years after the Emancipation Proclamation, 152 years after the 14th Amendment, 57 years after MLK marched, 56 years after the Civil Rights Act was passed, nothing has changed.

They forget that it is our American right to speak out, to decry our oppression.

The First Amendment says that we have the right to freedom of speech and press, that we have the right to peaceably assemble and ask the government for a solution to our complaints of unfair treatment. But we are silenced, gassed when we protest peacefully, and our cries for justice have been ignored for generations.

The Second Amendment says that the right of the people to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed. Yet time after time, legally armed, law-abiding Blacks are arrested or shot just for being a person of color in possession of a gun, while white gun owners can brandish their weapons freely without fear of being shot or unjustly detained.

The Fourth Amendment says that citizens may not be subject to unreasonable search and seizure. It’s where the concept of a search warrant comes from. Yet Blacks and other people of color have been subject to racial profiling and racially motivated searches, frisking, and seizure of property for as long as we have been citizens of this country.

The Sixth Amendment says that citizens have the right to a public and speedy trial, by an impartial jury, to know what we’re being accused of, to be confronted by the witnesses against us, and to have the opportunity to gain witnesses in our favor, and to have the right to an attorney in our defense. This is one of the biggest jokes. People of color remain in cells for weeks and months before trial, and are often coerced into plea bargains for crimes they didn’t commit in the first place, just so they can get out of jail sooner rather than run the risk of being remaining in jail for months, only to face a courtroom that is predisposed against you because of stereotypes and shady police records, with a public defender that is overworked at best and disinterested or corrupt at worst, resulting in extremely long sentencing with little to no account for the time the individual has already been incarcerated, seemingly as a penalty for refusing to take the fall and essentially “wasting people’s time”.

The Eighth Amendment says that “excessive bail shall not be required, nor excessive fines imposed, nor cruel and unusual punishments inflicted.” I could laugh if it weren’t such a blatant lie. Bail is disproportionately higher for people of color than for whites, as are the fines, and while cruel and unusual punishments may be subjective, I would argue that legalized slavery for a criminal population that is disproportionately comprised of Blacks and people of color AND murder by law enforcement before even reaching a judge BOTH qualify as cruel and unusual, particularly since it’s extremely notable how many white people, even accused or convicted of especially heinous crimes do not meet this fate, while a Black person could do so for merely moving wrong during a traffic stop.

The Thirteenth Amendment abolished slavery and involuntary servitude except as a punishment for crime. However, the only thing this changed for Blacks was the beginnings of racially motivated mass incarceration, starting from 1865 until the present.

The Fourteenth Amendment says that anyone born or naturalized in the United States is a citizen of the USA.  It also says that “no State shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States; nor shall any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.”

There are 20 other Amendments as of 2020, but this Amendment alone is the root of the problem. Black Americans are just that- Americans, and yet, we are DENIED equal protection under the law. We are DEPRIVED OF LIFE, LIBERTY AND PROPERTY, without due process of law.

But people seem to forget that Blacks are American citizens, too. And so, they seek to preserve their peace and forget to care.

So, as I turn up my headphones to tune out my roommate’s irritatingly ironic assertions of oppression, I turn my attention to the places where I have a voice, to remind people that this movement is more than just a lofty idea or the overreaction of a group of people that’s too sensitive or hung up on the past. I remind them that the problem is that the actions and attitudes, the injustices and imbalanced systems are still happening NOW, in the present, mid-2020. That’s why we can’t stay silent. Why no one can. I use my influence to remind the world what those who came before me died to obtain:

“We will have to repent in this generation not merely for the hateful words and actions of the bad people, but for the appalling silence of the good people. Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. The Negro's great stumbling block in the stride toward freedom is not the [blatant racist or the white supremacist] but the white moderate who is more devoted to order than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice. Freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed.”

- Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., excerpted out of order from sections of a letter from Birmingham Jail, Alabama, 16 April 1963

I remind those who care to listen that I exist in this world, hated and unwelcome. My very existence is one of danger and risk, especially if I choose to be myself. For me, there is no place like home.

I remind the world that I can’t breathe, and that for me that’s not just a catchphrase; it’s not just a concept to use for merit mongering or fitting in. It’s the fear that chokes me, the anxiety that suffocates my hopes and dreams. For me, it’s a reality.

[ofkleins]

        𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠  here  and  do  i  have  the  tea  for  you  .  ariana  is  back  on  campus  ,  which  is  surprising  considering  the  threatening  note  i  left  them  .  yes  ,  i  know  all  about  how  despite  outward  appearances  ,  her  family  isn’t  as  picture  perfect  as  they  may seem  because  of  their  pride  .  imagine  the  tabloids  and  how  the  malabanan  family  would  feel  for  such  information  to  come  out  ,  not  to  mention  the  reputation  of  delta  because  of  their  actions  .  at  this  rate  ,  she  is  better  off  staying  put  in  beverly  hills  ,  california  and  living  off  that  $625m  family  net  worth  .  what’s  the  point  in  studying  applied  economics  and  management  with  plans  to  take  over  her  mother’s  abandoned  executive  position  at  her  family’s  company  ,  is  it  worth  it  with  what  i  know  ?  anyways  ,  they  may  want  to  continue  to  be  genteel  &  cosmopolitan  because  the  disingenuous  &  acrimonious  attributes  make  me  want  to  spill  .  (  kelsey  merritt  ,  remy  ,  eastern  )  .

          hello  again  my  angels  !  it’s  remy  here  with  my  second  bby  ,  miss  ariana  !  i’ll  keep  this  greeting  short  since  my  one  over  on  christian  is  a  bit  lengthy  ,  but  i’m  super  excited  to  write  and  plot  with  everyone  !  i  will  admit  that  ariana’s  intro  is  a  bit  lengthy  because  i  pay  a  little  too  much  to  details  ,  and  i  also  placed  indicators  for  where  the  eating  disorder  trigger  warning  begins  and  ends  if  you  choose  to  skip  over  that  content  .  other  than  that  ,  once  again  my  discord  is  𝕥𝕒𝕕𝕒𝕤𝕙𝕚 𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐚#6936  if  plotting  is  easier  for  you  there  ,  and  i  can’t  wait  to  get  the  ball  rolling  !

trigger  warning(s)  :  mention  of  drug  addiction  ,  eating  disorder  ,  and  abusive  parenting  .

full  name  :  ariana  bernadette  malabanan  . nickname(s)  :  ari ,  mainly  .  birthday  /  age  :  august  30th  ,  1998  /  21  . zodiac  :  virgo  . pronouns  :  she  /  her  /  hers  . gender  :  cisfemale  . sexual  orientation  : bisexual  . romantic  orientation  : biromantic  . height  :  5′8″  ( five  foot  ,  eight  inches  )  . hometown  :  paris  ,  france  . current  location  :  beverly  hills  ,  california  . nationality  :  french - american  . ethnicity  :  caucasian  and  filipina  . languages  spoken  :  filipino  ,  english  ,  and  french  (  college - course  level  )  .

         daniel  malabanon’s  family  immigrated  to  the  united  states  back  in  the  nineteenth  century  from  their  home  country  of  the  phillippines  .  through  the  decades  ,  despite  the  trials  and  tribulations  ,  the  malabanon  family  rose  through  the  ranks  of  politics  and  business  ,  with  daniel’s  grandparents  having  ten  children  between  the  two  of  them  .  the  malabanon  family  as  they  became  more  influential  in  american  politics  was  also  building  their  business  empire  .  while  daniel’s  grandfather  was  pursuing  the  levels  of  politics  from  law  school  ,  his  wife  was  pursuing  business  ,  with  the  dream  of  someday  having  her  own  cosmetics  line  .

          as  the  decades  passed  and  the  malabanon  family  amassed  their  meager  beginnings  to  becoming  a  part  of  the  country’s  elite  ,  soon  comes  grandson  daniel  ,  who  decides  to  follow  in  his  father  ,  uncle  ,  and  brothers’  footsteps  of  going  into  politics  .  smart  in  his  own  right  ,  daniel  heads  off  to  the  prestigious  university  of  pennsylvania  ,  where  he  pursued  a  degree  in  political  science  before  eventually  moving  on  to  law  school  .  of  course  ,  the  malabanon  name  was  known  throughout  the  country  ,  but  daniel  didn’t  receive  any  special  treatment  while  he  was  in  college  .  after  graduation  ,  he  keeps  his  head  in  the  books  as  he  gets  his  law  degree  from  yet  another  prestigious  university  (  columbia  )  ,  and  it’s  in  new  york  city  that  daniel  meets  his  future  wife  ,  wild  child  of  a  multi - billionaire  named  celine  duverney  .

         made  up  of  messy  ,  blonde  waves  and  the  liquid  courage  of  champagne  while  dancing  on  tables  ,  celine  was  the  youngest  daughter  of  a  billionaire  family  that  wanted  to  enjoy  her  twenties  despite  the  pressure  from  her  parents  .  she  was  determined  to  live  her  own  life  ,  and  even  though  she  was  getting  what  she  deemed  a  useless  degree  in  business  administration  ,  that  didn’t  stop  celine  from  enjoying  her  life  to  the  fullest  .  she  spent  summers  on  yachts  off  the  shores  of  a  tropical  island  or  would  splurge  in  neiman  marcus  simply  because  her  professor  told  her  one  of  her  papers  wasn’t  good  enough  .  while  she  was  in  college  ,  celine  was  a  kappa  ,  and  it  fit  the  blonde  well  considering  that  she  was  rich  ,  spoiled  ,  and  made  sure  that  everyone  around  her  was  fully  aware  that  she  was  getting  dropped  off  at  school  in  a  rolls - royce  and  never  (  absolutely  refused  )  to  eat  dining  hall  food  .

          when  it  came  to  daniel  and  celine’s  relationship  ,  the  two  started  dating  while  daniel  was  in  his  first  year  of  law  school  and  celine  was  a  junior  .  their  relationship  was  a  bit  of  a  whirlwind  ,  and  they  eventually  eloped  in  a  simple  wedding  on  the  beach  in  bali  the  summer  after  celine’s  graduation  .  little  did  the  couple  know  ,  is  that  at  the  time  ,  celine  was  pregnant  with  their  first  baby  and  eldest  son  dominic  .  celine  decides  to  be  a  stay  at  home  mom  while  daniel  moves  through  the  ranks  at  a  prestigious  law  firm  moving  from  summer  associate  to  senior  associate  ,  but  daniel  wanted  to  be  congressman  .  a  few  more  years  pass  ,  a  second  baby  named  naomi  is  soon  born  ,  the  family  has  made  the  cross  country  move  to  california  ,  and  daniel  is  running  for  congressman  of  california  .  

          the  family  settled  into  a  gorgeous  home  on  sunset  boulevard  . 

          after  running  for  often  twice  and  getting  beat  by  a  landslide  the  first  time  around  ,  daniel  is  elected  as  senator  and  celine  begrudgingly  becomes  thrust  into  the  public  eye  and  is  under  constant  scrutiny  .  the  malabanans  are  newcomers  to  the  world  of  politics  in  this  sense  ,  as  they’re  no  longer  skirting  around  the  edges  and  waiting  to  have  their  chance  at  all  the  glory  .  marriage  and  children  had  calmed  celine’s  wild  ways  ,  but  when  she  was  twenty - nine  and  their  last  daughter  ,  a  bright  eyed  baby  they  named  ariana  was  brought  into  the  picture  ,  everything  changed  for  the  worst  .

          to  naomi  and  dominic  ,  celine  was  a  wonderful  mother  .  she  baked  cookies  ,  they  hung  out  by  the  pool  ,  she  helped  them  with  their  homework  ,  but  as  little  ariana  grew  up  ,  she  was  not  the  apple  of  her  mother’s  eye  .  the  first  strike  against  her  was  the  fact  that  she  was  born  via  c - section  due  to  a  complicated  pregnancy  ,  leaving  her  mother  with  an  ugly  scar  that  remains  to  this  day  .  she  was  born  in  paris  while  the  family  was  on  vacation  ,  actually  coming  two  months  before  she  was  due  .  celine  was  annoyed  with  being  stuck  in  paris  as  she  waited  for  her  daughter  to  grow  stronger  ,  and  that  was  the  second  strike  against  the  innocent  child  .  being  in  the  public  eye  because  of  her  husband’s  job  made  celine  quite  conscious  of  all  things  appearance  ,  and  made  sure  that  she  and  her  children  never  left  the  house  with  a  hair  out  of  place  or  a  shirt  untucked  .  naomi  ,  the  golden  child  to  her  mother  ,  immediately  began  participating  in  beauty  pageants  while  her  dominic  followed  his  calling  and  focused  on  academia  like  the  men  before  him  .

          little  ariana  liked  to  play  ,  and  she  liked  to  play  hard  .  she  wanted  to  play  soccer  in  the  rain  with  the  other  neighborhood  kids  and  roll  down  grassy  hills  until  her  skin  was  itchy  ,  but  her  mother  ?  she  wasn’t  having  any  of  that  .  ari  was  going  to  be  prim  ,  proper  -- her  back  would  be  so  straight  a  ruler  would  be  jealous  ,  and  those  soccer  cleats  her  father  bought  her  were  thrown  into  the  trash  and  replaced  with  ballet  slippers  .  for  years  ,  ariana  was  no  longer  the  only  malabanan  kid  who  played  with  the  others  in  the  neighborhood  ,  and  she  now  had  a  strict  schedule  of  working  out  ,  school  ,  ballet  ,  and  studying  at  the  tender  age  of  thirteen  .  when  her  freshman  year  starts  ,  though  ,  ariana  abandons  her  mother’s  dream  and  trades  the  ballet  slippers  for  a  pair  of  cheerleading  pom - poms  .  with  her  infectious  personality  and  warm  smile  ,  it’s  no  surprise  that  ariana  makes  the  coveted  harvard - westlake  cheerleading  team  .

          and  while  most  mothers  would  be  proud  of  their  daughter’s  accomplishment  ,  celine  was  more  focused  on  her  daughter’s  appearance  than  anything  else  .  TW BEGINS  she  limits  what  she  could  and  couldn’t  eat  ,  often  making  snide  remarks  when  ariana  says  how  much  she’s  craving  her  favorite  cheeseburger  from  shake  shack  or  how  she  had  a  bit  of  cheesecake  after  dinner  .  celine  wakes  her  daughter  up  at  five  in  the  morning  with  a  hellish  personal  trainer  that  makes  her  run  their  expansive  neighborhood  until  her  lungs  are  tight  and  she’s  gasping  for  air  .  breakfast  is  smoothies  ,  lunch  is  only  soup  ,  and  even  then  all  the  good  things  that  ariana  craves  have  been  taken  out  .  she  has  to  be  skinny  --  she  has  to  make  her  mother  proud  .

          the  lack  of  food  during  the  day  leads  to  binging  in  the  night  ,  tip - toeing  to  the  kitchen  with  the  aid  of  the  housekeeper  ,  who  kept  a  hidden  stash  in  a  cabinet  her  mother  never  dared  to  open  .  binges  turn  to  regret  ,  tear  stained  cheeks  and  the  horrid  sound  of  ariana  hunched  over  the  toilet  as  she  begs  to  be  forgiven  for  the  disappointment  she  would  bring  to  her  mother  .  it  all  comes  to  a  head  during  ariana’s  junior  year  ,  when  she’s  gained  an  ounce  of  her  mother’s  affection  and  dark  circles  that  are  hidden  beneath  luxury  concealer  ,  and  it’s  the  annual  homecoming  football  game  .  dinner  consisted  of  four  baby  carrots  and  a  bottle  of  water  ,  and  right  as  ariana  is  lifted  into  the  air  to  perform  a  basket  toss  ,  she’s  falling  --  and  she  lands  on  the  unforgiving  ground  with  a  sneer  on  celine’s  face  as  she  watches  behind  saint  laurent  sunglasses  .

          ariana  goes  to  the  hospital  and  is  diagnosed  with  bulimia  ,  a  word  that  clouds  her  in  a  cloak  of  embarrassment  and  springs  tears  in  her  father’s  eyes  .  celine  is  uncaring  ,  picking  at  her  hundred  dollar  manicure  instead  of  caring  for  the  daughter  she  allegedly  loved  so  much  --  at  least  ,  that’s  what  she  said  when  she  spoke  to  the  media  .  ariana  is  pulled  from  harvard - westlake  ,  sadly  for  her  senior  year  ,  and  begins  the  slow  process  of  healing  .  her  relationship  with  food  becomes  healthy  again  ,  and  she  cries  when  she  has  cheesecake  ,  her  favorite  thing  in  the  world  ,  when  she  returns  home  .  TW  ENDS

          she  makes  the  decision  to  head  off  to  college  ,  putting  all  of  her  eggs  into  one  basket  when  she  only  applies  to  hollingsworth  university  .  she’s  desperate  to  get  from  under  her  mother’s  criticizing  eye  ,  and  to  finally  be  her  own  person  .  during  freshman  year  ,  ariana  pledges  kappa  in  hopes  that  she’d  make  a  dent  in  her  tainted  relationship  with  her  mother  ,  but  nothing  ever  seems  to  work  in  her  favor  .  she  makes  it  through  rush  week  and  becomes  a  pledge  for  the  society  ,  bouncing  on  the  balls  of  her  feet  when  she’s  chosen  on  bid  day  .  all  goes  well  until  it’s  time  for  a  little  bit  of  hazing  ,  but  ariana  finds  herself  with  the  short  end  of  the  stick  .  she  has  to  clean  longer  ,  take  one  more  shot  ,  staying  awake  an  extra  hour  while  the  other  pledges  have  gone  to  bed  ,  and  being  utterly  humiliated  when  her  kappa  sisters  discover  that  she  had  an  innocent  crush  on  a  boy  from  sigma  .

          ariana  drops  out  of  kappa  and  goes  the  rest  of  the  semester  stewing  in  her  upset  over  the  pure  humiliation  she  was  forced  to  endure  .  when  the  spring  semester  rolls  around  ,  ariana  still  carries  that  torch  as  she  steps  into  the  delta  house  looking  for  a  fresh  start  ,  and  it’s  the  society  where  she  remains  today  .  she’s  in  the  college  of  business  and  is  also  a  cheerleader  ,  even  though  most  would  assume  it  harbors  too  heavy  feelings  ,  but  her  constant  work  in  therapy  has  helped  her  regain  her  love  for  the  sport  again  .

          when  it  comes  to  ariana’s  personality  ,  she’s  something  of  a  spitfire  .  she’s  not  afraid  of  confrontation  and  she  can  be  extremely  petty  at  times  .  for  her  positive  traits  genteel  and  cosmopolitan  ,  ariana  is  respectable  when  she  needs  to  be  (  like  attending  galas  with  her  family  or  when  she  debuted  at  the  debutante  ball  in  new  york  city  )  and  since  her  family  traveled  as  well  as  met  dignitaries  around  the  world  a  lot  thanks  to  her  father’s  career  ,  ariana  is  quite  sophisticated  and  she  carries  herself  as  such  .  as  for  her  negative  traits  disingenuous  and  acrimonious  ,  it  simply  means  that  she  will  fake  the  funk  sometimes  in  order  to  get  something  she  wants  .  her  disingenuous  ways  especially  shows  when  she’s  being  petty  ,  and  she’ll  pretend  to  not  know  the  full  story  to  either  a .  confront  the  other  person  with  the  facts  or  b .  gather  up  as  much  information  as  she  possibly  can  .  as  for  being  acrimonious  ,  it  means  that  ari  is  bitter  as  hell  ,  especially  when  talking  about  kappa  .

secret  .

when  it  comes  to  her  secret  about  her  family  ,  the  malabanan’s  are  similiar  to  the  kennedy’s  in  the  sense  that  they’re  the  ‘  perfect  ’  family  with  no  issues  ,  on  the  surface  .  in  reality  ,  celine  leaves  daniel  frequently  and  jets  off  on  exotic  excursions  with  billionaires  she  just  met  ,  trying  to  get  back  what  she  lost  because  of  marriage  and  children  .  dominic  has  fallen  into  a  drug  addiction  he  thinks  no  one  has  noticed  ,  and  naomi  is  off  doing  whatever  it  is  she’s  doing  .  despite  that  ,  their  friends  and  extended  family  always  gets  the  perfect  holiday  cards  when  the  season  rolls  around  and  they’re  always  written  as  ‘  family  goals  ’  on  either  instagram  or  twitter  .

short  headcanons  :

ariana  lives  off - campus  and  in  a  gorgeous  apartment  (  minus  that  ugly  blue  bed  lol  )  .

she  drives  a  black  porsche  panamera  ,  and  she  originally  wanted  a  ferrari  ,  but  she  threw  a  minor  fit  when  her  dad  said  no  .  eventually  ,  she  got  over  it  .

her  style  ?  is  literally  all  over  the  place  .  one  day  she’ll  be  wearing  all  black  with  a  leather  jacket  ,  another  day  she’s  dressed  like  a  carbon  copy  of  outfits  on  pinterest  ,  and  on  another  she’s  wearing  high  heels  and  a  midi - skirt  .  there’s  no  in  between  for  her  ,  but  you  better  believe  that  everything  is  designer  ,  even  down  to  her  hair  accessories  .

she’s  most  comfortable  in  her  home  ,  and  there’s  a  chance  that  when  she’s  home  she’s  blaring  music  .  she’ll  be  in  a  giant  shirt  with  her  hair  tugged  up  in  a  top  knot  .

her  favorite  food  is  a  shackburger  with  cheese  fries  and  a  creamsicle  float  .  she  is  absolutely  obsessed  with  cheesecake  in  any  and  all  forms  .

wanted  plots  :

i  think  a  roommates  plot  would  be  so  much  fun  !  ariana  can  be  hella  standoffish  at  times  ,  but  she’s  probably  the  best  roommate  out  there  .

umm  ...  👀  i  don’t  know  about  you  guys  but  i’m  in  love  with  angsty  plots  ,  so  i’d  love  anything  like  that  .  whether  it  be  exes  ,  something  toxic  ,  or  even  a  friendship  that  turned  sour  ,  i’d  be  down  for  all  of  it  .

high  !  school  !  plots  !  i’d  really  love  to  explore  ariana’s  life  outside  of  her  struggles  ,  so  i’d  love  to  high  school  boyfriend  or  girlfriend  ,  crushes  ,  friends  ,  enemies  ...  anything  !

a  tag  full  of  desired  relations  (  which  will  be  updated  periodically  !  )  can  be  found  right  here  .  i’m  also  down  to  go  based  off  chemistry  if  that  works  best  for  you  !  i  also  have  a  desired  relations  tag  for  christian  but  i  forgot  to  link  it  ! 

[fulcrumahsokaamidala]

Saturday Spectacular #13

Happy Saturday!!! So this is me thanking awesome fanfic writers for their amazing work and all the time they put into their fics. ♥️ I want to recommend spectacular fanfic stories I read this week! ♥️ They are posted in the order I read them. All posts will be tagged #saturday spectacular fic rec

Dark Beauty by @oliversmuse | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Meet Dr. Oliver Queen, local psychiatrist who specializes in PTSD due to his own experiences. He has finally settled into a normal life and his practice is going well. Then one day in walks Felicity Smoak, local mob boss. She is looking to change her ways, to escape the violence and death that has been her reality for far too long. She wants to change but her business keeps dragging her back to that dark place she is trying to escape. Can Dr. Queen see the light inside of her and help her change her ways??

Of Shadows and Monsters by @thatmasquedgirl | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Before she became the Vengeance of Starling, Felicity Smoak was Felicity Kuttler. Then she picked up a sword. Snapshots from Felicity's life before she met Oliver. Potential spoilers if you haven't read as far as "Knife in a Gunfight." Rated M for a whole lot of violence and language. Title (and chapter titles) shamelessly taken from lyrics from Halsey's "Control."

AOSFicNet2 Challenge - July - A True Drabble by @lilsciencequeen | Agents of Shield | WIP

Summary: The drabbles (and double and triple drabbles) I wrote for the July AOSFicNet2 Challenge.

You Can’t Afford Him by @quiveringbunny | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Oliver and Felicity, still strained after returning from Lian Yu following the takedown of Slade Wilson, take on roles that challenge their buried feelings when they go undercover to investigate a dangerous arms dealer. A Macau casino. A luxury suite. Suspenders. Lucky red panties. What could go wrong?

The Hardest Part by @smoaking-greenarrow | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: What if Felicity found out she was pregnant with Lucas after Oliver left and she'd have to raise both of their kids without him. Then Oliver would come back five years later to check on his girls only to find Mia playing with a slightly younger boy who looks exactly like him.

"Time for a story” Drabble Series by @smkkbert | Arrow | WIP

Summary: This fic shows Olicity and their life as a (married) couple with family. Although Olicity (and their kids) are the protagonists, other characters of Arrow and Flash make appearances. It started as a drabble series, but developed more and more into a full domectic AU. Although some chapters are still drabble-like, there are longer storylines by now.

flower of the universe (child of mine) by @felicityollies | Arrow | One-Shot

Summary: a very quiet fourth of july with the smoak-queen family.

Providence by @so-caffeinated | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Will Queen has struggled in silence in the year since he was shot. But when a shadowy crime lord known as Domino targets the only woman Will’s ever truly loved, fate forces him to confront his demons in ways he never could have imagined… Whether he wants to or not. Amelia Prescott has fought to take control of her life since learning two years ago that her personal and professional worlds were manipulated by others. But nothing can prepare her for just how hard she’ll have to fight to set her own course, especially when her heart belongs to a damaged man and a crime lord threatens her every professional move… And her life. Destiny brings them together, but as chaos reigns and personal demons haunt Will and Amelia both, it may also threaten to tear them apart.

(i want to) save that light by @callistawolf | Arrow | Completed

Summary: What if one little thing changed in the history of Arrow? What if, instead of going to Laurel’s apartment after discovering the extent of Merlyn’s plans for the Glades, Oliver stayed at the foundry and talked to Felicity instead? This series of short vignettes explores some of the ripple-effect changes that could take place throughout the next season as a result of this one, fortuitous change.

an evening walk by @yespleasehawkeyee | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: On a peaceful, summer evening walk, Felicity and Oliver take stock on the most important thing to consider when living with ex-agents and soldiers. Have our neighbors tried to kill us?

gray henleys and fluffy purple socks by @alexiablackbriar13 | Arrow | Oneshot

Summary: Felicity and Oliver have taken to sharing their clothes recently since discovering she’s pregnant. Well - it’s not really sharing. It’s very one-sided and originating from Felicity, and it’s more stealing than anything else.

little wonders (twists and turns of fate) by @alexiablackbriar13 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Oliver and Felicity’s drunken mistake of a hook-up in the bunker comes with unexpected consequences in the form of a… souvenir. Deciding to remain romantically uninvolved, the two of them will have to battle all the trials and tribulations of maintaining a platonic relationship while Felicity is pregnant and the two of them are living together, coping with all the emotional baggage that they both bring to the table - and dealing with the fact that they are still very much in love with each other, but scarred by the events that broke them apart in the first place.

Liquid Courage by @oliversmuse | Arrow | Completed

Summary: Felicity has been upstairs at the bar drinking mimosa's when she decides to go back down to the lair and get her purse to head home for the night. Oliver and Diggle realize that she is tipsy so Oliver decides to take her home. However after Diggle leaves them alone Felicity says and does some things that she would never do sober and Oliver quickly finds that his feelings for his IT girl run deep.

ink stains and dumbbells by inlovewithimpossibility | Arrow | WIP

Summary: “Hey Dynasties, Oliver here coming at you with another video!”

“Hi guys, welcome back to Ghost Fox Goddess, I am Felicity Smoak.”

When one half of YouTube duo, Queen-Merlyn Dynasty, lands himself in hot water with Principal Wilson due to failing grades, Oliver knows that he needs to step up his game. The principal recommends a tutor but little does Oliver know that she’s also a successful YouTuber. The two of them set out on filming a collab but neither anticipates how popular their videos will be or the insane reaction the sight of the two of them on screen together will gain from the fans.

Mothers know best by @smkkbert​ | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Since they have been kids, they have been best friends. Since they have been friends, their mothers wanted them to be together. After coming back from the east coast, Felicity takes over a position at Queen Consolidated, the company her best friend will soon take over from his father. Their mothers still push for them to be together, and they seem closer to that goal than ever because wedding bells are ringing. The only problem is that they both plan to get married to someone else.

My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark by @tangled23works​ | Arrow | WIP

Summary: This is a collection of scenes I've written but will probably never have the time to publish as part of a larger fic. Sometimes, there are stories that need to be told no matter how short they are. Anyway, each chapter is inspired by a song. Enjoy!

Workouts and Babbles by ElasticMonk | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Oliver comes to the rescue of one cute blonde at his gym just as Felicity stumbles upon one handsome mayor at her gym. They both have something in common, but will it bring them happiness?

Artemis by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: When the Queen’s Gambit sank, two people were stranded on Lian Yu. Five years later, four came back.

Daughter of the Demon by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: What if in 1988 while traveling through Las Vegas Ra’s al Ghul bumps into a nice waitress named Donna Smoak and they have one-night stand together? A little bundle of joy named Felicity Smoak is the result. In 2014, the Demon Head becomes aware of his youngest daughter’s existence.

The Ravager by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Slade Wilson’s plan for revenge against Oliver took time, money and no shortage of lives to pull together. His plan didn’t anticipate Felicity Smoak. How will his plan change now that his lost-lost daughter is working with the very man he’s trying to destroy?

Felicity of Themiscyra by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Years ago, Donna Smoak left the island of Themiscyra and her sister Queen Hippolyta behind to live in man’s world. She never told Felicity the truth about where she came from. As a result of the Undertaking, Felicity discovers some of her Amazonian abilities and makes an interesting new friend: Diana Prince.

The Daughter That Was Left by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: Before the Gambit, Oliver Queen met QC intern Felicity Smoak. When he boarded the Gambit, he left something behind. Now, five long years later someone is waiting for him.

I Scream But No Sound Comes out by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: When Oliver returns from Lian Yu after five years, he comes back different. What happened there damaged more than just his body. How will his friends and family deal with this new Oliver?

Intruder Alert? by @alexiablackbriar13 | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Felicity arrives home late to the Smoak-Queen family cabin and for a moment, is scared somebody has broken in. She’s even more shocked to find Mia asleep on the couch with her apparent boyfriend Connor.

Paging Dr. Smoak by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: When Oliver Queen gets into a car accident, he meets Dr. Felicity Smoak. He had no idea how much a chance meeting would change his life.

The Replacement by @realityisoverrated-fic | Arrow | One-shot

Summary: Oliver has named Felicity the new head of Applied Sciences. The only thing standing between Felicity and her new role is finding her replacement as Oliver's Executive Assistant and a pesky peanut allergy.

Did I Forget to Mention That My Dad is a Supervillain? by @laxit21 | Arrow | WIP

Summary: When Felicity told Oliver about her father, she wasn’t lying per se. She wasn’t completely honest either. It’s just that ‘my dad left us’ sounded better than the truth.

Or: A Series of one shots in which Felicity’s dad is a supervillain and we see how Oliver and the team finds out.

[thorinss]

MAKING MONEY ONLINE

hey y’all. i decided suddenly to make this post because i know it could be super helpful to people out there who might be struggling for money, or even those who just want to earn some extra cash on the side. i’ve been doing this for about 6 months and while it’s not full time or even part time work, it’s extra money that you can use for food, hobbies, gas, etc.

a lot of these sites i am about to list pay very little (we’re talking pennies or dollars) but it accumulates over time if you’re willing to keep at it. in combination these are all good sites to just leave in an open browser or tab and just do the tasks passively as they come in or as you feel like it. half the time i’m playing the sims on one monitor and earning money on my other monitor.

anyways here we go! these are in no particular order; just in the order that i think of them. i will include my referral codes but don’t feel obligated to use them!

Prolific - this one is my favorite because i have had the most success with it. there are a lot of survey sites out there that will kick you out mid-survey after you’ve already invested so much time into them because you’re “not qualified” to answer the questions. prolific is the opposite. you sign up, fill out your profile, and the surveys that fit your demographic will come to you. most of them only take a few minutes to complete but the payout is better than most other survey sites out there. the surveys come from academic researchers who use your data anonymously for studies. some days you won’t get any studies, and some days you’ll get several. you can cash out to paypal once you reach $5. keep a prolific open in a tab and it will alert you when a new study is available!

Slicethepie (non-referral link) - i discovered this one recently and it’s one of my favorites. the pay is very little; i’m only making 4c per review right now but i’m told the pay goes up the more you review. all you do is sign up and get paid to write short reviews for clothing, get paid to watch movie clips or commercials, or get paid to listen to new music (whaaaaat). it’s one of the more fun ways to make money. it takes a couple minutes and you earn a  few pennies after each one. those quickly add up!

Usertesting - this one is really good if you manage to qualify for the tests, which can be hit or miss (mostly miss in my case). it requires a microphone and being okay with recording your screen and sending the info to a company. basically, people pay you to test our their websites and make comments about it. they’ll ask you to go to their website and look for something specific, and you have to voice your thoughts about the site out loud as you look for what it is they asked for. the pay is $10 per test which is amazing, but you have to take a pre-screener test to qualify for them. overall i’ve made maybe $40 total by working passively (not every day) in the last 6 months but hey - that’s a tank of gas.

more under the cut!

rev - if you’re a fast typer, a good listener, and have some time on your hands, this is a pretty good option. rev is a transcription service, so you listen to some audio and type out what the people are saying, and then get paid for it. some of the audio is garbage which is why they pay people to transcribe it, but if you have the time you can make a few bucks. just make sure you take it seriously because if you somehow appear to be “below average” at this, they will terminate your account. the amount of transcriptions that appear varied so you just have to keep an eye out.

GG2U (non-referral link) - this one is pretty dope. sign up for free trials, install and play video games, take surveys, watch videos, and earn points. 100 points = $1. within 5 minutes of signing up i had $7. just be certain to cancel any trials before the trial period ends so you don’t get charged. 

amazon turk - not gonna lie, i have not been able to achieve this one, but i have personally seen people make hundreds and thousands on this platform. if you don’t know already, mturk is where clients post microtasks for humans to do that robots cannot yet achieve. if you are willing to put in more work than me and figure it out, check our /r/mturk or do some googling before pursuing it.

Ibotta (non-referral link) - (get a $20 welcome bonus if you use my referral and scan your first receipt) this is an app that offers cash back for shopping at the stores listed on ibotta. you buy an item from the store listed on ibotta, can your receipt into the app, and boom you get cash back.

qmee - this one makes chump change but it’s worth it. you complete surveys for some change (50c or somewhere around that) and that’s it. there’s also a browser extension; i use this more than the surveys. the extension pops up on the side of your window whenever you search something on the internet - but only if it’s something that qmee is looking for. and occasionally it offers a few pennies if you click on the link. best part is you can cash out no matter how much you’ve made. i cashed out 32c the other day lmao.

inboxdollars (non-referral link) - i don’t know if it’s just me, but this website only works on firefox for me. my chrome hates it. but anyways, this site provides very passive income. i do not recommend the surveys; they’ll have you answer a bunch of questions and you think you’re going to finish it and get the $$$, but then it kicks you out because “you’re not qualified”. the ways to earn that i like are watching videos in the TV/videos tab and playing the games in the games tab. after you watch x amount of videos or play x amount of games, you get a scratch off ticket. i usually get about 15c from them, but it’s something. when i first started i worked my way about to $50. they send you a check in the mail.

redbubble (my shitty store) - y’all know about this one already i’m sure. if you’re creative and think you can make a design for shirts and accessories, go ahead and make an account! you might make zero money, you might make a few bucks every couple months, or you might make a couple hundred. it all depends so this one is really a gamble, but still worth looking at if you’re into that sort of thing! 

crowdtap - haven’t used this one in a while but i will be getting back into it. you take surveys and answer questions for brands and receive points in return. you need to accumulate 500 points before you can begin cashing out, which will take a while. after that, you can redeem the points for gift cards to amazon/sephora/walmart/etc, use the points for a subscription service, or use the points to donate money to a charity.

swagbucks (non-referral link) - this site is wild and just like mturk, i have yet to master it, but have seen others do so. it’s another typical survey site very similar to inboxdollars listed above. you can take surveys for swagbucks (points), watch videos, use their cash back feature, etc. 

vindale research (non referral link) - similar to prolific. it’s surveys from researchers that pay a few dollars for you to answer some questions. length of survey varies. each survey generally pays aroud $1. there is also a jobs tab that gives a list of jobs in your area.

submittable - this one is a recent discovery. my first article was rejected but i’d like to share this one anyways in case someone would like to pursue it! there’s a large list of writing and art contests mainly. a lot of them don’t seem to be offering pay but the ones that do offer a huge payout if you win the competition.

cambly - if you have any type of skill in teaching other languages, being a life coach, of just have any knowledge you think you can pass along, cambly might be for you. when you sign up there are two options, be tutored or become the tutor. if you want to tutor people, you need a webcam and microphone access. my connection never worked with cambly so i have not been able to personally try it, but i have seen people make a lot of money from teaching english to little kids.

ebates (non referral link) - another cash back option every time you buy something online. or you can link your credit/debit card and use it when you buy stuff in stores. so you get money for spending money. good stuff y’all.

lionbridge & appen - these two sites are basically the same thing just different companies. this is the ONLY two sites on my list that pay hourly. i believe it’s somewhere between $9 - $12? i could be wrong. but once you sign up, apply, and get approved, you could be doing a multitude of things, inducing: translation, transcription, social media evaluation, data collection, and more. 

TIPS:

minimum requirements are internet, a computer, and a phone. if you have an extra laptop or computer that still works, set it up and let videos on inboxdollars or swagbucks run in the background. this way you are making money without even thinking about it. you could even just open the videos in another window and mute them, which is what i’m doing right now. you still get the credit for watching them but you don’t actually have to listen to them.

this is not a get rich quick and easy deal. none of these jobs are simple and you won’t be pulling in hundreds per day. it’s hard, annoying work. so don’t expect to be rolling in the dough.

if you can, create a second email for all those times you get asked to sign up for something or subscribe to a newsletter. this way your actual personal inbox isn’t getting spammed with ridiculous things you don’t care about. just check the second email once in a while to make sure no one has sent you anything important. if you choose to get email notifications for new paid surveys on whichever site, i recommend letting those go to your personal inbox so that you may see them. or use the second email and check it daily. it’s up to you!

even though these sites don’t pay a lot, when you use them all together you can get a decent amount of cash. i’ve seen people work entirely from home, pulling $1000-$2000 per month just by using sites like this. but obviously that doesn’t mean it will be the case for everybody. i do this stuff on the side and am happy with just making a few dollars per day.

if it ever feels pointless because you only earned 30c or $1 just remember this - it’s more money than you had five minutes ago. it’s something. it might not pay the bills but eventually it might buy you a coffee or sit in your savings collecting interest. however you want to use it!

CASH OUT IMMEDIATELY. as soon as you are allowed to transfer your money to paypal or wherever, do it asap. there have been times where sites will shut down or glitch out and you are unable to get back all that money you earned.

be careful with some surveys. if they seem fishy or gimmicky or are constantly offering you to sign up for a bunch of bullshit, exit immediately. it will get you nowhere.

do not use VPNs. this usually results in getting banned.

OTHER RESOURCES:

i cannot possibly list every single way to make money online because there is so much! i listed my favorites but please check out these other websites that provide even more information and opportunities. they’re the reason i know so much and have been able to earn money on the side.

down the rabbit hole you go!

r/beermoney (wiki)

r/workonline

r/flipping

the work at home wife

i hope this helps someone out there. i have a job but i don’t get enough hours so i try to make a little extra on the side utilizing all these sites. and i have bad social anxiety so anything i can do to work from the comfort of my own home is my ideal situation. as i said, you won’t make a lot of money to begin with, or even later down the line, but as i’ve repeated - it’s something. it’s $5 more than you had earlier.

again, hope this helps and please let me know if it does! and if you have any questions i can try to help you!