#how did his hair grow so much in a few months?? devil fruit.

[aimtodraw]

orange town vs impel down 🤡🤡

I'm doing all of Buggy's looks we've seen so far, and I of course started with my two favourites!! impel down takes the cake hands down just because of the hair for me. What's your favourite Buggy look??? If you say the green one with the circles I don't trust you.

[hhighkey]

Decode // Chapter Five, Close Quarters

Dracule Mihawk (opla) x OC (female)

Rating: mature

Story Contains: live action characters, related and non-related one piece plots, unspecified religion, OC is a nun on sabbatical, trauma, violence, age gap (40 v 23), insecurities and self doubts, possessive / protective behavior, kidnapping, true loves, eventual smut

Note: i got noooo idea if demons exist in one piece and didn’t appear so off some searches so gonna chalk it up to powers from a devil fruit. also think I really like this chapter??

Masterlist

-

Ocean waves lulled onto the beach as the sun reached its peak, whilst two ships tied and anchored at a makeshift dock. Lounging near the entrance of the sea cave was a company of pirates, ones that belonged to the Red Force. On proud display was that of Luffy’s wanted poster, with alcohol passed around. 

Mihawk eyed his red-haired ‘friend’ warily, finding himself without the want to finish off whatever ale was tossed to him. 

The joy- pride- whatever it was he didn’t quite care, was evident on the crew. Though he’d imagined if the Luffy he met was anything like that as a child, sure the boy would have made a lasting impression. But his mind was elsewhere.

It was coming up to a month since he’d first lay eyes on the woman his heart now belonged to. Perhaps distance truly did make the heart fonder in this case. His memory raced to remind himself of every inch he’d taken in, from her delicate fingers, to supple skin and breathtaking beauty. He wanted to own every part of her, to know every intimate detail of her past, and to understand the inner workings of her mind. Anything to do with her up to the air she breathed he wanted part in. 

It was a sickening line of thought, truly it twisted and burned his chest inside that he’d thought he’d implode at times. But Sabine pulled him into her orbit, dug her innocent little claws in, and he’d be a fool to resist. 

His mind constantly drifted to her from time sailing on the sea, amidst a job, and even before he fell asleep. He wondered what she was up to and where, if she were safe, if she thought about him. He let himself obsessively obsess over someone he met twice, truly knew nothing about and now had to wait for them to make a life changing decision in months time. Setting himself up for failure surely, but high risk brings high reward, he understood that well enough. 

"You usually got your panties in a bunch Hawkeyes- but this is extra.” Shanks stared at Mihawk knowingly as he knocked back his drink. 

"What are you talking about?” Mihawk quipped back, tone biting with a hint of exasperation. 

"Haven't touched your drink."

Mihawk glanced down at the open bottle, liquid slowly warming in his grasp from nursing it, "Please elaborate on your nonsensical ramblings."

Shanks grinned as he took a swig of mead, "I know that face. Only one thing causes men of our stature to look so grim."

"Don't compare us-"

"A girl."

"Fucks sake." Mihawk decided he was done, he’d take no further questions from the red haired imbecile of a pirate. He sat his drink down in the sand uncaring as it tipped, spilling out the amber liquid. He only got a few feet away. 

 "Where's your ring?" Shanks smirked, only having to ask one simple question and Mihawk would know he was beat, knowing how to prod all the right areas to tick Mihawk off.

Mihawk stopped and turned with a fire in his eyes, “Don’t pry in places you have no business.”

“Oh come on,” He laughed drunkenly, “You don’t just give that out!”

It did not matter- the intricacies of what the ring symbolized to Mihawk. Or it shouldn’t have mattered to Shanks who found far too much enjoyment out of his discomfort.

“Don’t use that night, what- a decade ago when I drunkenly told you about what it meant- against me.”

“Yeah yeah.” Shanks waved a hand dismissively, his smirk growing larger by the second. A few of his crew were beginning to listen in, “Come on, a man as distrusting as you wouldn’t give something so precious to a stranger! Or maybe… you did?” 

“Like you know anything about it.” 

Not needing to push anymore, the red haired man shrugged, “Tell me about her.”

“No.”

“I’ll never bother you again!” 

“Liar.”

“Just one thing then you can go. She a pirate? Marine? A sweet girl you saved from an evil pirate?”

Mihawk sighed, ran a handle along the fabric of his jacket then stared right into the depths of Shanks’s soul. 

“She’s a nun.”

The beach went utterly silent. It sounded like even the entirety of the ocean and its inhabitants, and even the air went silent too. Then a booming chorus of loud shouts and laughter drowned the silence out. 

“She’s traveling with Luffy.”

At the mention of Luffy the crew died down again, ears strained to listen.

“What’s he doing with a nun?” Yasopp called over. 

Mihawk would indulge him one more time and wanted to set a record straight before Shanks could say anything about him being a cradle robber, “She’s much older than him by the way, but she’s on sabbatical and he wants to show her the damned world before she goes back. With that strange boy she’s sure to get a show.”

Shanks laughed, “Sounds about Luffy. Pfft well, guess ole’ Mihawk here is gonna have to become a priest! Or celibate the rest of his life, good luck man, you’ll be in my prayers.” And he raised his beer up emphasizing the last word, toasting to Mihawk's ‘doom.’

It was the sudden noise of the little transponder snail he kept safely tucked away that finally gave Mihawk a reason to leave.

Annoyance riddled every bone in his body until the Marine on the other end said a nun wanted to talk to him. It felt like he’d been doused in cold water, fear striking through him at what that could mean. But when he heard her voice, it calmed something inside him. Without a doubt in his mind he’d head to Angelica Island to see her, to aid her in whatever venture she needed him for. It didn’t matter. It could be as simple as needing him to reach an item off a high shelf. Because getting to lay eyes, possibly a hand on her after a month would make it worth it. The two days to get there though would test his patience. 

-

Sabine stilled, suddenly deathly aware of the new presence in her room as she opened the door wishing she hadn’t gone out from the way sweat dripped down her nape. Dread pooled in her stomach like molten lava, her pulse hiked the second she stepped onto the premises. Hairs on the back of her neck stood straight, her instincts screaming at her to turn around. But as her gaze caught the figure lounging beside the window with its sheer curtains blowing about in the wind- a surreal calmness washed over her. Her knees buckled but she caught herself on the door frame as her cheeks burned red.

“Mihawk.”

There he sat in all his glory. He wore a simple cream shirt half unbuttoned, his coat and hat lay haphazardly on the bed. And the giant sword leaned resting against a far wall. The sight of him made her stomach churn, made her chest flitter so painfully she desperately wanted to be closer to him. 

“Sabine, dear.”

“You came.” She regained her senses as she shut the door behind her, her back pressed against the wood as she watched him. Watched him in awe as he sat across the room. Awed at the fact he hadn’t lied about his intentions to help her.

“Of course. You called.” 

He said those words so casually, but it makes her burn inside. Like it was the most obvious thing on the planet to him, while she’d been stressing. Sabine called, so of course Mihawk came to her as if she were his light in the depths of the darkest ocean calling to him.

Her head spun from the noxious fumes of the jasmine candle she’d left lit since the morning as she slowly inched forward. And how it swirled with the scents coming in from the window- every sense of hers blazing in sharp awareness. Everything zoomed in on Mihawk who straightened in the loveseat, his pupils dilating as he watched her movements and every breath like it’d be the last.

Sabine took a shuddering breath in as she stood an arms length away from him now, her heart lurching as he stood. Towering over her, enormous and all powerful. Consuming her as she rocked on her feet in a trance as it took every ounce of her not to reach out and touch him. The intrusive need to graze her fingers up the front of his shirt, feel the chiseled muscle that lies underneath and his radiating warmth. 

Biting her lip, she looked away wishing she could hurl into a ball and hide.

“Hi.” She squeaked out, “I didn’t know you were here. See, I’d gone for a walk, was too anxious waiting around cooped up in here.”

“I would have been earlier, but I ran into some difficulties.”

“Oh! Is everything okay?” 

“Yes.”

Unsure what to say she simply nodded, his level tone told her not to push further. Her room felt like a flurry of nerves consumed it raking along her skin, soft whispers scraping at the back of mind as she tried to calm herself. Nervous about how to behave around him. Nervous on what to even say. Nervous about if she looked presentable! All her practiced words she’d recited over and over since the sun went up, were flown right out the open window beside her. Mind filled with mush. 

A soft chuckle emanated past his lips as he delicately touched the side of her arm, careful to not scare her, to test the waters. 

“Little dove, why don’t you tell me what’s going on? Start from the beginning.” 

She nodded appreciating the directness as it gave her something to do, “Y-Yeah, one second.”

A thick notebook laid at her bedside, one she’d scribbled in all night trying to clearly navigate her thoughts. The story was long, possibly confusing, and frankly she didn’t know where to begin when she finally sat down to write. To write the thoughts she kept locked away inside felt like a personal betrayal of some sorts, that telling paper before an actual person was wrong. 

“I wasn’t sure how much you needed to know, it was almost therapeutic writing it all down, I don’t know if I’ve told anyone it all before.” She leafed through the pages, embarrassment leaking through. Intimate thoughts, intimate details written that she’d let him see because at this point she was desperate. Or she wanted him to. That if he was claiming to want her, then he needed to know her before following through.

Remembering his words of sweet possession, revering attention made her stomach lurch and flutter. A beast roaring inside her she’d never felt until Mihawk. How it blazed and consumed her thoughts with him, with daydreams and a childish obsession a girl holds when she’s young. Because she didn’t know him!

Shaking her head to force herself out of a heedless spiral, she went and handed him the notebook. 

“I’d rather not have to speak any of it.” 

Sabine sat on the edge of the bed, watching him. She chewed on her bottom lip, feeling sick and unable to tear her eyes off him as he began reading. The only reason she told Luffy and the crew a few days ago about the gist of her past, was the heat of the moment. Sabine would have needed a whole bottle of wine to even consider talking about the whole story. 

To a pirate of his status, power, it probably meant nothing, Mihawk may think she was weak or overdramatic. But this was her life, she knew nothing else than her confined and confusing existence. 

Mihawk’s golden eyes read every word she’d written, even the ones she crossed out, with an acute concentration. 

‘I was 15 when father made me leave home. I don’t know if it was bad luck, but I believe it was him who brought the pirate to our doorstep. I believe he paid him to take me to the Monastery, then to kill mother. I still remember how the pirate laughed, calling father weak for not taking mother’s place but I think it was all part of his plot. What pirate takes a girl and drops her off at a Monastery? Few months before, father had become a fanatic over religion, believing we’d all been living in sin and needed to be a better family. I think he went crazy. Who knows- I surely don’t, but I wish mother took his place and I was never sent away.

Out of the 8 years I spent at the Monastery, which I could write a whole novel on the things that took place but wouldn’t know where to begin, I only left the isle once. Last year I came to Angelica Island, this one, with a Bishop because the matriarchs believed I needed a break. I found myself in a precarious position three years ago, a deacon had pried his way into my life in an inappropriate manner (I will not further explain as he’d inconsequential now). I’d always forced myself to believe I was doing a service through my work of prayer and confession, all the strict schedules and confining education- all for this wretched island to flush it all away. I genuinely believed there was a demon here causing people to take their lives violently, drawing them to insanity, that it needed to be sent back to hell. I believed it, I mean I saw the lady with the black eyes, I saw all the dark swirls, saw the blood she left, and felt her claw like nails on me. How was it not real? Even the marines had no leads. But the man she supposedly possessed who was showing strange behavior, I had to be the one to finish the exorcism as it killed the Bishop. All the terror stopped. I thought it was done!

I went back to the Monastery and for months I woke in fits of screams and horrible nightmares. I’d feel her choking grasp, couldn’t be in the dark, I was jumpy, changed. I always thought I was a fairly level headed person, liking to follow directions even if I hated it. Thought I could be a role model, a good nun, but over the last 8 years I could never take my permanent vows while most have over the years. So now I find myself here once again after feeling the most free and light since the start of my sabbatical. I don’t want to be here but clearly it drew me back for a reason, out of all the possibilities of islands to stop, why this one? I couldn’t leave with the crew when they planned to after a few days, I had to stay. I went to the archive in the religious sector of the town, met with the cardinal I trust who had helped last year. After meeting Luffy and finding out about devil fruits, these wild magical powers, I felt something gnaw at me. In long forgotten books are articles, journal entries, timelines of correlation in demonic activity and someone who’s eaten a devil fruit. I mean- I couldn’t imagine the matriarch seeing Luffy stretch out and not think he was possessed! And someone who could have those powers to possess or use ghosts, turn into that thing- wouldn’t that be more plausible? 

I’m ranting, I know, but it’s making me doubt even more. I feel guilty. I don’t think there’d ever been a demon. Just powers and violent happenings from someone with abilities that we don’t understand. The church is good at fear mongering I’ve noticed and all it takes is someone who has a strong opinion and is loud, people do crazy things out of fear. I think there is an actual person behind all this- Mihawk if you are reading, that is why I called you.’

Mihawk closed the notebook, humming to himself before he looked at Sabine. His eyes provided her with an unspoken understanding or support, she at least liked to think so. While normally able to tell when judgment existed within someone from the different sorts of people she had to spend time with due to the state of her occupation- with Mihawk that was different. She cared what he thought of her, far too much than she wanted to admit for only having been around him twice. Now three times. 

“I see. I think there is a plausible possibility of your hunch being correct. Much about devil fruits we don’t understand, or the type of powers they can give or even how they are activated. But you are not talking to a man of faith, I would rather believe in a realistic answer.”

“I’m glad you don’t think this is all foolish.” She straightened, heart thumping.

“I will look into it myself, from a less religious aspect however. A person behind this would be more logical, but I want to see reports from last year and logs from your time.” 

“That makes sense, we could get that information from Cardinal Joseph tomorrow, he’s very good in secretarial duties.”

“Have you asked the marines if there are suspicious reports of deaths lately? Or sightings?”

“No…” 

“The cardinal you mentioned, has he noticed anything strange within the community?”

“Yes and no.” Sabine flushed, ears red in embarrassment as she shifted, “We’ve been meeting, pouring through books but most aren’t helpful. I have notes further in my notebook. While nothing has happened like a year ago, he says he has felt unnerved. Said he’d been considering writing to me to see if I was doing okay, or felt the same, that maybe we were wrong.” 

He was thinking and she was waiting for him to plunge the knife in that she was ridiculous, and a fool to call him for this. It did not come. 

“You said you’ve felt light on your sabbatical, freer since you’d joined the church, whether you only meant to imply it innocently. I want you to feel that way once again.”

“So you’ll help?” She asks more excitedly than intended. Her body language changed and he enjoyed watching how her pupils expanded, shoulders relaxed, and a smile pulled at her lips.

“Yes.” Only for her. 

A weight released off her, one she hadn’t realized was there until that moment. The look she gave him was genuine, filled with thanks as she took a breath able to suck in air more than the airy gasps she’d been surviving off. 

It was late afternoon, almost evening but Sabine could have slept until morning. A small crash in adrenaline, she fell back onto the bed, her legs hanging off where her knees hinged. 

“Such a relief you’re here.” She rubbed her eyes as she stared at the ceiling.

The floorboards creaked under his heavy steps, she couldn’t see them but his eyes dominated along her form. He stopped at the sight of a necklace chain that hadn’t been there before. It sat below her garments. 

“Sit up,” His smooth voice tickled the back of her mind and she immediately obeyed. She pushed herself up on her forearms and gazed up at him with half lidded eyes. 

Closer. His legs just brushed against her knees. She held her breath, the sound of pumping blood decimated within her head as all other noise went silent. 

Mihawk had to lean down to reach her neck, where he looped a finger under the chain to pull it out from under her garbs. 

“I see you’ve been wearing my ring.”

“Yes.” She blushed furiously, her tongue darting across her lower lip, “It doesn’t fit any of my fingers though.”

“I do not doubt that.” It pleased him greatly to see her not only with it, treasuring it, but wearing it. It stroked the possessive tendencies that suddenly surged through him, the sudden emotions it wracked through his nerves and climbed under his skin, “How often does it get to grace this chain around your neck?”

Sabine stilled, breath caught before she admitted under her breath, “Everyday.”

His lips quirked and an impulsive thought popped into his mind. He quickly said, “I should go,” as he dropped the ring so it fell back to her chest, needing to move. He barely got a few strides away. 

“No- Stay in here. Or maybe they could move us to a room with double beds? I can’t be here alone at night anymore, I wake up crying like there’s a presence over me.” Sabine’s bottom lip jutted out, a plea falling from her lips as panic surged through her, “If you’re here I’ll feel safer. I only ask for genuine reasons, nothing nefarious I swear.”

“I know, don’t fret.” He reassured, but mainly reassuring himself that staying in the same room as her was a good idea. 

No matter how patient and strict of a man he was in training or in battle- in life, she suddenly changed that. Sabine was honest, that was clear of her character even when he first met her at Baratie. Mother-like in a sense, clearly conscious of others and her surroundings. Precious. Easy to break- something he’d never allow to happen. 

“Alright. I’ll go ask for a cot, how about that?” That pleased her greatly that she didn’t come off like a desperate woman doing this to bed him. Though she couldn’t blame anyone for trying, even her own thoughts betrayed her as she’d graze along his pale skin and corded muscle, a chest and abdomen so thick and defined it didn’t matter it was covered by a shirt. And without his long coat on she could see his powerful thighs straining against the material, making her wonder just how much of his life was dedicated to the art of his sword. 

“You will take the bed, I will take the cot.” Mihawk added sternly, though she saw through that as nothing more than banter. She smiled, nodding before skipping out the room. He was moments away from telling her not to leave his sight, but he shut his mouth and let her run her little errand. 

As nightfall fell over the city on Angelica Island, Sabine methodically locked every window making sure to stuff spare linens so no draft could sneak its way in. A habit she’d had for years. A distrust for people perhaps, or surroundings, or that she’d spent years shivering in her bed as a girl. And the Monastery was nothing if not a wretched old place with a frigid draft that had Sabine always on the lookout for extra blankets. 

Mihawk watched her with fond curiosity, teasing words dancing on his tongue that he wouldn’t yet speak. Her movements were frantic, though it was clear she didn’t see the behavior as worrisome. She kept checking the locks and he itched to tell her to sit, to relax. But this moment gave him the perfect chance to learn more about her, to study her and put it to memory. 

“You’re not cold are you?” She asked him, huffing from the amount of times she’d paced the room. 

“I’m not.” He thought carefully, “It’s late, you should rest.”

She nodded, “Mhmm, yeah. I haven’t been sleeping much lately.”

“I can tell.”

“You see, besides my weeklong job here last year, I hadn’t slept in a room by myself in years. I’ve always had roommates at the Monastery and on the ship I room with Nami. With others in the room I have to force my brain to sleep so as to not bug the other person. Alone, it’s unsettling, I don’t like it.” She said quickly, tripping over her words as she tried to explain. 

Mihawk stood from the lounge chair, “You- sit on the bed. You’re making me anxious watching you flit around.”

Sabine shivered under his commanding gaze as he sat on her bed, patting the spot beside him. She pushed her messy hair back behind her ears and as she sat she smoothed down her nightgown, suddenly very aware how thin the material was. Suddenly filled with shame to be wearing such a thing around him as an unmarried woman, self consciousness making her stomach twist tight. 

His large fingers comb thoughtfully through her hair, carefully feeling the way each strange felt between his fingers. The softness of her brown locks, a faint smell of soapy lilac wafting from it. 

Dutifully he began to part her long hair into three sections, basking in the way her skin would erupt in goosebumps as he ghosted along it as he worked. 

Taken aback she quickly asked, “You can braid hair?” 

“It’s not difficult. And now you won’t have a bird's nest come morning.” 

“Should I be offended by that?” She teased, loving the way his fingers felt as they stroked along her nape and braided the strands. 

“No. Now tell me why you obsessively check locks, shove cloth into cracks, then check again and again.” 

“Why?” Heart amiss as it pounded in her chest, she felt dumb asking why but her mind was slowly turning to much as his fingers worked. She’d never thought a man would braid her hair, nonetheless a warlord of the sea. 

“I want to know everything about you. What makes you tick. Anything or anyone who’s caused you damage whether emotional or physical. What colors do you prefer? Do you prefer sweet or salty food?”

“Will you tell me all the things there is to know about you too?”

“Yes. Anything I ask I would be willing to answer in return. Do you have a hair tie?”

“Nightstand. And you don’t seem very open... In general.”

“I am not.” He leaned to grasp the black band, carefully looping it around the end of the braid leaving about two inches.

“Why did you become a pirate?” She shifted upon his completion, instinctively feeling her head and hair. Facing him now she was as pink as the evening sky while he was an impenetrable wall as he watched her. 

“What do you consider a pirate to be? In your own words.”

“I dunno, someone who travels by ship that is against the world government, steals and murders I guess? A pirate seems to be someone who wants the One Piece at this point, Gold Roger really changed everything.”

Mihawk hummed, thinking over her words, “I don’t particularly care for the antics of it all, I especially do not care to terrorize islands of people to rule over like some. I care about my pride of being the world’s greatest swordsman, besting foes as I please, and one day hopefully meet the one who will surpass me. My occupation as a warlord helps keep the marines out of my way, they’re a nuisance at best.”

“You’re a lone wolf.” She tried to tease again but a sudden yawn came over her as sleep began to drag her down. 

“I don’t talk about my past or my reasoning for most decisions with anyone, but I wanted to return the favor as you allowed me to read your notebook.”

“I hope it wasn’t too intimate?”

“No, it allowed me insight into you, I hope I’ve done the same. Now have you finished your nighttime routine or is there more to do?”

“Yes, it’s done.” Her chest swelled even as her eyelids grew heavy. 

“Then lay down, I will stay up until you fall asleep.”

“Aren’t you going to ask me questions?” Sabine inquired as he helped her get underneath the covers. A tingling sense of safety washed over her from how delicately he treated her. Like a precious treasure the way he tucked her in, hand smoothing the wrinkles of the blanket over her form. 

“Not tonight. Sleep, tomorrow we’ll speak with the marines.”

“Alright, fun.”

Her words soon slurred together as she attempted to chat his ear off about unintelligible nonsense he simply hummed responses to. She was nervous, he could practically feel the way her pulse hitched as he got close, or how her pupils would dilate. The extra time between responses as she was overthinking her own words. 

He glanced around, only the dim light of the lamp beside him illuminating the room, she’d insisted he leave it on. There were no words to describe Sabine’s beauty in his eyes. In the month since he’d seen her he’d recount her face in his memory, but being able to see each detail, was like seeing her for the first time again. And she was still stealing his heart like she had the moment he eyed her from across the bar. 

Mihawk settled onto the cot that night, careful to be silent so as not to wake Sabine. He’d be damned if he were to ruin her first night of peaceful sleep now that she felt safe. Safe. She wanted his presence. She could have called back Luffy and co, but wanted him. The fact of it quenched the fire within him that wanted to claim her as his own, knowing that while he was still very much a stranger, he gave her solitude. 

-

posted: july 18 2024

taglist : @zzbloody-animezz @honeybeezgobzzzzz @mythical-goth @iraaiitz @moonmaiden1996 let me know if you wanna be added !

[emmy-dekarios-bg3]

Heart of the Weave - chapter 18

Shadowheart and I are gardening while Jenevelle naps peacefully in her rocker, basking in the tears of the sunlight. I smile at her, though I am wishing we could have a different outcome from this situation. I am happy that I’ll always be around for her. Tara flies outside where we are and grabs our full basket of freshly picked fruits and veggies.

“I’ll just go ahead and take this inside for you. Oh, Gale is about to walk through the door. If you need any help at all convincing him to become an immortal, as long as he isn’t a God, I’m with you all the way,” she says. I’m so thankful for the wonderful delight of a tressym that is Tara. Just moments after she speaks those words out loud, Gale opens the door leading to the garden, a smile lighting up his handsome face. He approaches me and plants a kiss on my lips delicately, once again lighting up a spark within me that will never die.

“Hello my love, I hope your day was as wonderful as you are,” he rejoices as I embrace him.

“You’re going to make me blush,” I tease, burying my face in his suede crimson wizard robe.

“Judging by how you’re hiding your face, it’s safe to assume I already did.”

“To answer your question, we had a fantastic day. Jenevelle is just now waking from a slumber, a lot of her sleep being in the sun. Don’t worry, she’s been in shade too.” He chuckles and admires our little girl who is stretching as she wakes up. She seems more than content.

“Well, she appears to have enjoyed it. She may get too accustomed to wearing just a diaper, so I’d be careful. I’m glad you all had a great day.” I chuckle, reaching down to pick up Jenevelle and hold her in my arms; she notices Gale and a smile grows upon her face immediately. Her pale skin glistens under the sun, and I notice a slight red tint within her thick brown hair.

“How was your day at Blackstaff?” I ask. His smile has yet to fade from his face.

“Despite my exhaustion due to unusual dreams last night and not getting enough sleep, it was great. Students are now out for the summer, so I’ll be home with both of you until I have to go back in a few months. However, once I go back, I’ll need to teach six hour days again.” Shadowheart clears her throat and steps in, as if she has some important information to spew out.

“Say, Emmy, don’t you have something to ask Gale?” Oh Gods, he is going to be so pedantic about this whole predicament. Why must she have brought this up right now? In a peaceful moment in the middle of our exquisite garden? Gale slightly cocks his head, waiting for me to chime in. A heavy sigh escapes my breath, though unintentional.

“So…the best solution to deal with this whole…devil situation…is to not only sell Jenevelle’s soul, but we sacrifice ours as well.” Nervousness trembles within me, though I don’t know why. He looks puzzled and not exactly thrilled in any way, which is about the reaction I originally expected.

“Hm, care to explain why?” Shadowheart and I look at each other nervously, but I suck it up. Surely he will agree with me on this unusual ordeal we never pictured ourselves being in.

“Well, if we do it, Jenevelle won’t have to live without us. We’ll all be immortal.”

“Uhm….” Gale hesitates for a moment, then sighs, realizing I’m right. “That is a huge deal. But I’m not opposed, it’s just that I’ll have to pledge away from Mystra. I just have to hope it’s easier done than said.”

“Is that all you would have to do?” He stares at our daughter, half-smiling as she coos and admires the natural environment around us.

“If it’s our only option. I say we try to bargain again somehow and if we can’t, well… It’s better Jenevelle is alive, immortal, and under our care rather than a more horrific outcome.” His voice is somehow full of solace, though I expected a much worse reaction from him. I take a deep breath as I close my eyes, trying to release the tension trapped within me. I feel his hand touch my cheek gently.

“Hey,” he murmurs, “open your eyes.” I open them up once more, noticing a worriless smile on his face, so full of life and certainty. “There’s my baby. I promise it’s going to be alright.”

“I know this situation isn’t ideal. I hate it. I hate everything about it,” I mutter, yet feeling better after letting it all out. “I can’t lose Jenevelle.”

“I understand. It’s a lot for us to process. The thought of her unable to grow up and experience what this life has to offer, well… That’ll take a toll on us.” Jenevelle continues to coo, spitting little bubbles as she’s graciously enjoying life in the moment. Shadowheart comes in for a hug and it lasts for a solid minute; she can sense the disgust I feel toward the situation and those bloody devils. I smile, feeling a sense of relief from just her being here.

“Thank you for having me over. I’m sorry this is happening, but I promise it will be alright. If anyone knows about deals with the devils, it would be Wyll and Karlach. Might I suggest you meet with them as soon as possible? It might help give some clarity of some sort,” Shadowheart suggests. “Astarion and I have to go meet up with some people today about the adoption process. I’ll come by later.”

Shadowheart is right. We need to be in touch with Karlach and Wyll before we move forward with this deal, though I have a strong feeling they will basically tell us “there’s nothing you can do.” I hold Jenevelle close to my chest, cherishing every second I have with her in this very moment.

“Oh, how I love you little darling,” I whisper, smiling at her wide-eyed face full of wonder and curiosity. She grips my finger with her tiny hand, staring at it in amusement. She then spots my wedding ring and finds it to be the most amazing item she’s ever seen; I can’t exactly disagree. Gale walks out of the washroom that’s connected to our bedroom and he appears to be very refreshed. I suppose all it took was hot water and getting cleaned up.

“Ah, much better.” He slips on his underwear and lies down next to me, where I have Jenevelle lying back on my perked-up knees. “I wanted to apologize for earlier. I feel like I snapped at you, and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

“No, not at all. You were concerned, as you should have been. We both were unsure of what to do. No need to apologize.” He curls up next to me and I can feel his warmth radiate from his flesh.

“Gods… I love you.” His voice is so tender in my ear, giving me chills across my body.

“I love you too. Very much.”

After well-needed snuggles on our comfortable bed, we head to the kitchen and dining area so I can get started on cooking dinner using the delicious fruits and veggies I got from the garden. Gale places Jenevelle on her baby rug in the living area so she can practice lifting her head up. I lay out the vegetables on the wooden cutting board and begin chopping onions for the delicious chili I’m preparing. As I chop them, I smile at Gale and Jenevelle, watching as the baby is kicking her legs ecstatically. At that very moment, I have some sort of vision – or flashback, I suppose – of being trapped in the Hells with Raphael. I’m envisioning my hands bound by the soul chains, screaming as I feel the heat of the flames outside my chamber. I can basically feel the cold, fatal nails that felt like blades against my pregnant stomach, silently threatening me. I remember the horror I felt build up inside me as I pleaded for mercy. The rage. The instinct I knew I was going to die or become his toy. This random vision I’m having is so real, I can feel drops of sweat pouring down my face. Luckily, Tara flies by and sits on my head, causing me to snap out of it. What the fuck.

“Whoa, miss ma’am, did I startle you?” she questions, staring at me in bewilderment. Gale turns to look at me after Tara points out my little jump from being spooked. I nervously laugh to make it seem like I thought it was funny.

“No, no. I’m okay. You know me, Tara, I’m always jumpy.”

“True! I’ve scared you every day since the day we’ve met. Shoot, I’ve scared you more times than the number of toe beans I have on my paws. Unintentionally, of course.” Gale laughs at the accuracy, knowing damn well that he’s also scared me a few times.

Tomorrow we plan on reaching out to Karlach and Wyll to see what they propose about the whole devil situation. Seeing as they both have experience in that department, we figured it would be best.

[kkusuka]

So, I have an idea 👁👄👁. Who knows if it’ll be a good one, but I had a dream last night, WHERE I WAS BEING SHARED BY KAGS AND TSUKKI. Let me know if you like this idea <3 Love ur poly headcanons and I think that’s where this dream came from <3333

funny because i think about this all day every day

The Velvet Room <3

Tsukishima Kei x Reader x Kageyama Tobio 

Mafia AU

words: 2.1k 

Cw: choking, double Penn. In the same hole, it’s tsukishima so degradation

The Velvet Room Nightclub was a place to avoid.

In fact, you avoid even speaking about the place, as do many. Other than it being almost completely unaffordable to the general public, but just mentioning the Karasuno Yakuza was enough to scare the remaining brave souls from the doors.

You didn't really know what made them so bad, no one delves deep into the issues publicly, and apparently privately, of fear they will somehow overhear the contents of the conversation.

Your friends had already beaten into your head to stay away from the luxurious club. And there were enough bars and smaller clubs lining the city; so it wasn’t a problem to the general public.

So how did your friend and you get in the check-in line at the very club you’ve been told to avoid like a plague?

Kiyoko’s bachelorette party. That’s how you landed a stop in the most expensive place in the city. She was one of the people who always played devil’s advocate for the club. (you had your suspicions about the man she’s marrying too, not you get you wrong they are lovely people, just an enigma to the club.)

She was adamant about having her party there, saying she wanted to show you that it wasn't scary, you guys were just falling into the drama.

“You know, it does look really nice in here!” another friend whispered as you walked through the door; the hostess looked up at your group, seemingly recognizing Kiyoko at first glance, as she didn't say a word before leading you through red curtains, past the dance floor and what looked like the main bar, up the stairs to a long hallway.

Walking down the hallway you noticed the individual rooms lining the walls, no doors, the entries were of the same red cloth. You were led to the very end of the hall, pushing the red back, revealing a room with booths along the wall, circling a white table.

To the side of the room, a bar loaded with different bottles and lime slices. You had almost completely eased up on the reputation of the club, the white and LED lights lining the room sent you into a calm, relaxed view of the infamous building.

“Alright let's stop lollygagging! Let’s party!” with that you began to drink and within minutes food had arrived to your room. No worries, there was no poison in either the food or the drinks; so now you had nothing even remotely bad to say about this place, it was great!

Before you knew it, it was almost two in the morning and according to some of the girls who ventured to the outside, the club was packed. Being that you had been there since 8, it was needless to say you were growing tired; your social battery was nothing compared to some of your friends.

“C’mon, Y/n! Let’s go to the dance floor! This room is getting boring!” one of your friends was trying to pull you from where you had nestled into the booth.

“Fine, fine, calm down! I'm coming, I'm coming!” you relented, allowing her to drag you pat the curtains and onto the dance floor where music was blasting from every angle.

As you dance, your eyes move across the bodies on the floor to the people leaning on the walls lining the outskirts of the mass of people. As you drag across the couple clearly getting a bit too heavy in public your eyes meet a sharp cerulean blue.

Expecting him to turn away, you kept your eyes locked with his, disregarding the people surrounding you. Seeing that he wouldn't break our staring contest, your eyes travel from his eyes to his draped hair, down his neck, taking note of his dark three-piece suit hiding his body.

Through your examination you lost your footing, falling back crashing into a hard chest.

For the second time that night, your eyes met gold surrounded by black rims. You watched his lips curl into a scowl as he set you back onto your heels, clearly running his eyes along the curves of your body.

He returned his eyes back on your before flipping his lips into a condescending smirk, raising his chin as if he was leagues above you, “Not very balanced are we, short?”  he remarked, shoving his hands into his pant-pockets.

“I was going to say thank you, but you ruined my thanks by opening your mouth.” you retorted, making a move to turn back to where you hoped your friend was still dancing, though before you could, another body was beside you.

“Stop bothering them, Tsukishima.” a deep voice rumbled from next to you, looking at it was the man from across the room; his sharp eyes now cast onto the blond asshole, who was still smirking, bigger now that this other man had stepped in,  down at the both of you.

“Or what, King? Are you going to command me around like the commoner I am? Short and I were just talking, so you can butt out your highness.” Tsukishima sneered at, the king? that couldn’t be his name, and from the way he stiffened at the mention of this name, he didn't like it very much.

He was about to respond when two voices called from either side of your newly formed circle.

“Y/n!”

“Kageyama! Tsukishima!”

You knew it was Kiyoko who was calling you back towards the stairs, so you sneak a glance two where the men turned, seeing a smaller man, boy? with bright orange hair waving the two over. Hearing Kiyoko call you again, you tear your sight from the two walking away and make your way back to the room.

The events of that night still play in the back of your mind even a month later as you get ready for another pouting with Kiyoko and the hostess from that night, who’s named you learned to be Yachi, who had quickly became friends with you along with a few of your other friends.

“Won't it be awkward clubbing at the place you work?” you didn't want to force Yachi to go back, she seems to spend enough time there as it is. And if you got her to say no, you wouldn’t have to go either. It wasn't that you didn't want to have a good time, you did. It was that you didn't know if you could handle seeing Tsukishima and Kageyama again. Your body wanted it, it desperately wanted to see at least one of them again, but your mind was against the idea.

Yachi had told you about them, they were clearly part of the high rank of the Karasuno Yakuza. She explained how rude and all-around awful Tsukishima treated people, from remarks to just making fun of them. She told you about Kageyama’s bad attitude and how he was exiled from another Yakuza and was picked up for his skills.

You had to stop yourself from thinking about them for about a week before your memory began to torment you once more. You couldn’t lie; that was hot. Not that they were mafia goonies; but how confident they were walking around their club knowing what they could do at any time.

Now sitting at the main bar while Kiyoko and Yachi dance with each other on some far corner of the dance floor, you wish more people came. You vowed to stay away from the dance floor, in fear of deja vu taking its course and becoming reality.

To consumed in mixing your lime into your margarita, you ignore that body that slides into the stool next you yours.

“I was wondering when you would come back, Shortie, his Majesty interrupted us last time.”  warm breath hit the shell of your ear as a too-familiar snarky voice sounded from beside you. Tsukishima pulled back, resting his head on his palm, as the bartender shoots a whiskey in his direction.

“I have nothing to say to you.” you raise your chin, imitating how he had when you first met. From the corner of your eyes, you could see his amusement clear on his face. Trying to ignore him you make a move to leave your seat.

“None of that, I’m just trying to have a conversation!”

You continue your ignorance, scanning the crowd for your friends.

“I’ll buy you food?”

“Only until we finish the food, then you leave me alone.”

Seeming content with your answer, he takes you up the same stairs, to another room on the right of the corridor.

In your former opinion, Tsukishima was actually a very good conversationalist, you hadn’t even realized that the food had been done for an hour and you had gone through more than enough drinks.

“Hinata really jumped into a fruit cart? Like in the movies? How does that even happen?” you laugh, curling yourself against his side as he mocks his friends.

Noticing he wasn’t laughing anymore, you look back up towards his face. Realizing just how close he was to you, eyes fixated on your lips, yours the same before you realize what was happening.

“I’m sorry i-”

Before you could even finish your mumbling you were pulled back into him, lips pressing on yours. Keeping your lips connected he moved you onto his lap, your straddling his waist as his hands moved to rub along your thighs.

Pulling away to breathe, you start to unbutton his white shirt, he,  pushing the ends of your dress to rest on your hips, giving him a view of your red lace.

“Tsukishima what the hell-”

Kageyama’s familiar voice called from the entrance of the room, dying down when he registered what he was seeing. Frozen in place, he could see Tsukishima’s hand still making its way to the zipper of your dress. From the crook of your neck, he could see Tsukishima smirk sucking on the skin below your ear.

You tried to push Tsukishima off, not wanting to embarrass yourself further, but he held you in an iron grip acting as if nothing had happened.

“Are you just going to sit there and watch King? If so then you can just leave now.” He mocked, not straying from slipping your dress from your burning body. When you tried to respond, Tsukishima moved his finger to meet with your clothed bud.

Seeming to have made his decision, you feel Kageyama tilt your head to meet your lips. Wrapping his hands around your neck keeps you where he wanted.

“Wow you're more of a whore than I thought, totally ok with being shared by two guys, you’re fucking dripping!”

Tsukishima pulled your underwear to the side, shoving two fingers into your weeping hole, Kageyama moving his mouth to the column of your neck, opposite from where Tsukishima’s was just minutes ago.

“You’re going to take both of us, like a good cum-dump” Tsukishima sneered, pulling his cock out of it's refines, “c’mon tell me how much you love being our cum-dump.”

You couldn’t even mutter a word through Kageyama's fingers in your mouth. Before you could think, he was pushing you down onto his cock. You gave a choked moan as he lifted your hips then dropped them back onto his.

Your monetary focus on Tsukishima left you unaware of Kageyama’s escapades until you felt a hand on your back pressing you to the blond’s chest. You thought he was just going to press into your ass until you felt his tip at your already stuffed entrance.

“Wait, you can’t-”

“Shut up and take it, whore.”

Fitting them both was almost impossible, you felt more stretched than you ever had in your entire life. Tears were flowing down your cheeks, not that either of them seemed to care as they steadied in a pace, moving in sync with the other.

Eventually, you lost yourself on their cocks, you didn't know when but a hand attached itself to your clit. Your orgasm washed over you as your cum sprayed onto your thighs and Tsukishima’s pants.

Neither of them paid you any mind as they continued for another minute before stuffing you with cum.

“You might just have to be our permanent cum-dump, huh Shortie?”

“For once, I think I agree.”

[dragoneyes618]

You said Carlos had a sister at some point. What was she like?

All right! This will be fun to answer. Thank you!

Well. Fun for me. Not so fun for Carlotta.

So you want the full version? That may or may not be canon, depending on whatever headcanon I'm currently going with?

Okay. So. Her name was Carlotta. Carlotta Eleanora de Vil. Carlotta Eleanora de Vil the First, for reasons that will be made clear shortly.

Carlos called her Lotta sometimes.

She was three years older than Carlos. In fact, she was the oldest of all the de Vil children.

She was very protective of Carlos. She was always looking after him and doing his homework with him and being proud of how smart he was and doing his chores along with hers and walking him to school and punching Rick Ratcliffe in the nose once when he was bullying Carlos. She said the blood from the nosebleed she gave Rick that got on her black-and-white dress made her look like a real de Vil.

She was good at sewing. All de Vils are good at designing and making clothes, but she enjoyed it too; she was making dresses for herself out of discarded bits of fabric she found in the street by the time she was eight.

She looked strikingly like Cruella, right down to the dark green eyes and the hair split halfway down the middle.

She died when she was ten and Carlos was seven.

Yes, Cruella had something to do with it. Cruella had everything to do with it.

How? Maybe Carlotta stood in front of Carlos to protect him and Cruella hit her a little too hard. Maybe Cruella struck her a glancing blow on the head with something hard, giving her a concussion; without medical treatment, Carlotta went to sleep that night, hoping her aching head would feel better in the morning, as would her nausea and dizziness, and never woke up. Or maybe Cruella de Vil snapped and committed what is known on the Isle as the Devil Massacre.

The second Carlotta was born eight months later.

Eight months after her daughter's death, Cruella gave birth to a little girl. She couldn't be bothered to take care of her, because she'd already taken care of two babies by now and three was far too much and she was so busy, what with making sure Jasper and Horace didn't bungle anything up and searching for animals to make fur coats - or dresses, or shirts, or skirts, or earmuffs, or mittens, or hats - out of, and then she had to skin and cure them properly and the bloodstain from other people's blood still hadn't come out of her favorite outfit even eight months later and D'Arque kept nagging that he wanted her to keep a journal of her thoughts so he could study them and she simply didn't have time to look after a whiny, needy infant that was little more than a furless puppy.

So Carlos did.

His mother wouldn't take care of her, just left her screaming in her cradle, so Carlos did. Carlos figured out how to make bottles and bought or stole milk and warmed it up for the baby, and he changed her diapers, and he tore up blankets and sewed them together into baby clothes that he had to tear up and resize only weeks later because babies grow fast, and he slept next to her in his bed so he could make her a bottle and rock her to sleep when she cried -besides, it was so quiet and lonely now, without his big sister, and feeling his baby sister's warm body and the rise and fall of her chest as she slept next to him made him feel better - and he stole her clothes and toys and baby food, and figured out that if he crushed and mushed the rare fruit or vegetable he got his hands on, she would be able to eat it once she was a few months old, and fruits and vegetables were healthy for babies, right?

Carlos named her, too. A month passed, two months, and still Carlos' little sister had no name. Cruella wasn't going to name her; once she'd recovered from the birth, she continued on with her life as though the baby didn't exist. After all, Carlos was taking care of her so she didn't have to. That was his job; to do all the chores around the house instead of her.

So Carlos named his little sister. He was seven or eight years old, and could think of only one name: the name that had been foremost in his mind for months, who he missed desperately, the name of the sister he had loved, and who had loved him back. Carlotta Eleanora de Vil.

And that is how Cruella de Vil's younger daughter - her only daughter, now - came to be named Carlotta Eleanora de Vil II.

Carlotta II was small and timid and quiet. She rarely spoke. She was only comfortable around Carlos and, to a lesser extend, the other de Vil cousins. She was good at hiding and going unnoticed. She was scared of the dark, because of that time she accidentally got trapped in Cruella's fur closet. Carlos is scared of the dark too, for the same reason, but tries not to show it around her. She was scared of other people, but as long as her big brother was with her, she felt safe, no matter the situation. She was terrified of her mother.

Carlos literally raised her. When she was a baby and a toddler he would bring her to school with him so as not to leave her alone with their mother. The teachers didn't complain, as long as she didn't disrupt the class (she never did, even as an infant) because it was good that the timid young de Vil boy was showing an inclination towards breaking the rules.

She looked exactly like the first Carlotta. Exactly like Cruella.

She doesn't like it when people she doesn't know ask her questions or notice her. And she only knows a few people. She doesn't talk, really. She just wants Carlos. If someone, especially an adult, addresses her, she'll go even paler than usual and refuse to answer.

Once she was old enough to go to school, Carlos would confront the teacher or the other children if she was having a hard time, and would help her with her homework, and would walk her to and from school.

He did everything for her that his older sister - their older sister, whose name she bore and whom she would never meet - had done for him.

She didn't go to school often, though. She preferred to be with Carlos. She was terrified of being separated from him. Carlos could teach her as much as school could, too; he taught her how to read and write and how to do math.

She accompanied Carlos everywhere. Some people called her "De Vil's little shadow."

Carlos never stood up for himself, but he would do anything for Carlotta. Even stand up to his mother.

She was a sickly child. She had a breathing problem. Carlos didn't know until Carlotta was five and he, in trying to find a cure, had "borrowed" some medical textbooks from the Athenaeum of Evil, that it was called asthma. All he knew was that when she was scared or upset or sick, or when it was dusty, she had trouble breathing; she would wheeze and her lips would turn blue. He would kneel next to her and talk her through it. "It's okay. It's okay. Breathe in. Breathe out. You're going to be fine. This happened before and you were okay, remember?" No medicine the Isle had seemed to help; the best he could do for her was buy some herbs from Dr. Facilier and Mother Gothel - or just steal them off Freddie or Ginny - that eased the attacks. Even after he found out what it was - well, knowing what it was didn't help if there was no way to fix it.

As of D1 she was seven years old.

What happened to Carlotta the Second?

Depending on what headcanon I'm going with:

Option A: She died, several months before Carlos went to Auradon, in the throes of her most severe asthma attack yet, choking and wheezing, struggling to gasp for air and finding nothing as her skin turned blue and Carlos knelt helplessly beside her, trying to comfort her in her final terror.

Option B: She died, the same way - when Carlos was in Auradon. Before he could get her off the Isle. When he was apart from her for the first time ever.

Option C: When Carlos left for Auradon he left her in the care of his cousins, Ivy and Diego and Hunter de Vil. Or, to be more accurate, he was taken to Auradon with barely any notice and Diego and Ivy climbed in the back window of De Vil Manor and brought Carlotta to Diego's home. Carlos was reunited with her when the barrier came down.

Option D: In Return to the Isle of the Lost Carlos snuck her off the Isle with him.

Option E: She dies in Auradon, from a severe asthma attack as well, because Carlos didn't think to mention that she had asthma and nobody had an EpiPen - but she died in a soft bed, with a full belly, with her brother at her side.

Ironically, whenever they happen to be in the same room, CJ Hook takes a liking to her, and will, say, distract people from looking at her or talking to her. Mostly because CJ likes to be idolized by the small children, but still.

[sashi-ya]

Can you do a Marco nfsw where the reader falls asleep on him and in the morning they get it on like a fluff to an nfsw

Hi!! Of course! I hope you enjoy! Thank u for your request and sorry for the waiting! ♥ ~

NSFW ~ Marco x GN! Reader ~ Sleep On My Wings

TW: NSFW. Vag/Anal sex. Oral sex. Humping. Fluff

A/N: The gender of the reader was not specified, so I try to write a GN! Reader as for the NSFW, so you can apply it for any gender you want ♥ I realized after writing the fic that Marco's wings come from his arms while in phoenix or hybrid mode instead of him having arms and wings on his back at the same time- Please forgive me such mistake hahah. For better reading let's pretend he has wings on his back for now 🙈🙈.

WC: 1007

Those pirate fights always leave everyone exhausted, especially you. Your devil fruit’s powers require a lot of your vital energy, and usually you need to sleep right away after the battles.

“Are you ok?” asks Marco, the doctor and your commander when sees your eyelids slowly closing. “Uhum, I’m super exhausted. You know, the energy…” you tell him, rubbing your eyes and fighting against your sleepy body. “Well, the ship is way far from here, I don’t know if you will make it by walking. I can take you if you want” he says while blue flame wings burst from his back. You have always been completely in love with him and those wings, so you accepted right away.

As you may know, his flames don’t burn -at least he wants it to- so you rest on his back while flying over that island. The sky looks magnificent, the evening firmament slowly losing lilac colours and turning to a deep black sea full of twinkly stars.

“Marco! How pretty…!” you express, hugging his hybrid phoenix form while the wind blows your hair. “It is, not as much as you, but still” he says. You smile, and your cheeks turn to fire at such compliments. But the ride takes way longer than you could imagine, and you slowly fall into the dream world.

A warm breeze hits your face, and you slowly open your eyes. You are not on the ship; the place looks more like a... forest? You are lying over someone, and soon realize it is none other than Marco. At first you want to stand up, but then you just enjoy the feeling of his warm skin on yours. His wings are still out, and they surround both of you. You wonder why you aren’t on your ship, and more importantly, where you are.

The sun is already up, some birds fly over your heads. “Mmm, good morning” you hear Marco mumble. “Oh, uhm… good morning!” you say, a little ashamed of you hugging him. You let go and he watches with a confused expression. “Why did you stop doing that?” he asks. You are out of words, your heart beats faster than ever.

“Wanna hear something?” he tells you, while you look at him petrified. You manage to nod and wait for what he has to say. “I actually have a crush on you” Marco confesses. “Y-you do?” you widen your eyes.

“I do, and I know you do too. Come here, ok?” he tells you, pulling you closer to his body. You smile, still overwhelmed with those words, but happy as hell. Resting your head over his chest, the sky turns even brighter as the sun rises. “Marco, why are we here?” you ask. “Well, you kept falling from my back while being asleep, so I decided to rest for the night before getting to the ship. You don’t mind, right?” he tells you, smiling.

“Not at all…” you say, feeling so stupid and embarrassed. “Come on, don’t hide that pretty face of yours” Marco tells you, while lifting your chin up. He smiles and comes closer to you, little by little. Closing your eyes, you wait for a moment you've been dreaming of for so long. Your commander kisses you so softly, yet deliciously. The first kiss between the two of you, as perfect as you’ve always imagined.

But one kiss turns into two, and then into three. And your tongues make their way into each other's mouths. Marco’s arms around your body, slowly descending to the small of your back. Your arms around his neck, moving gently your body to finally be sitting over his lap.

Marco presses you against his anatomy, so you can feel his growing bulge on your groin. Your skin wants him as much as he wants you. Softly humping you keep kissing him, until his pants start to feel way too tight. Marco pushes you softly against the earth. He settles over your body and lifts your shirt. Sweet kisses from your belly to your chest, up and down. The tingling sensation of his tongue sometimes licking your skin, and the grazing of his lips over your nipples. His big winds around you two give a necessary privacy, even if you seem to be in an isolated forest.

“Marco…” you moan while his hands slowly slide your trousers off. Marco bites his lip before his mouth attacks your sex. His tongue does wonders on there, you moan and squirm. He knows exactly what he is doing, pressure building on your lower stomach. Pressure that needs and will be released, soon…

Your eyes turn white, you are panting, and climax hits you. Hard, strong, deliciously making you drip with pleasure. But Marco is of course, not satisfied, and neither are you. More, more of his body over yours, more. You wanna feel him inside you, and that's exactly what he does. Taking his clothes off, helped by your needy hands, he is ready to make you keep moaning his name.

When you are ready, he slowly penetrates your entrance. In and out he goes, slowly first, stretching clenching walls around his wide member, and then quicker and quicker. He hits that special spot, naturally, like if he was made only for you.

The warm feeling of his wings makes you so hot, drops of sweat fall over your skin from him as he fucks you rougher and faster. His climax approaching, yours too. Your eyes are fixed on each other, the connection between you two is so strong. You needed this for so long, the mutual pining for months since you joined the crew.

“Marco…”; “(Name)…”. Intense orgasms, filled by his sweet seed, dripping with it.

“I’m glad the ship is far from here…” you say, resting over his chest -ignoring the peeking silhouette of the Moby Dick from above the wings. “I’m glad too” he says, trying to cover the ship docked a few meters from the coast of the island you were in. ♥ ~

[gucciwins]

Frosty the Snowman

Harry and Y/N love the holiday season but Harry takes the teasing a bit to far and well Y/N decides to give it right back. 

Word Count: 5126

A/N: hello! thank you so much to @goldenbluesuit for organizing this wonderful christmas fic challenge. thank you for allowing me to participate, kate. i’m so happy i got to be a part of it. merry christmas and happy holidays to you all. sending you all a big hug and lots of love. 

_____

Christmas has never been much of importance in your life.

That was until you began dating Harry.

 Harry and his family loved celebrating in particular because Harry was gone for so many months of the year. They loved giving gifts, and Harry loved spoiling his family. He was a true family man who loved to be doted on by his mother and teased relentlessly by his older sister. His smile never leaves his face when he's with them.  

Ever since Harry found out how you spent the holidays alone drinking wine and hot chocolate on and off and binging all the best holiday movies. He declared that was not acceptable and that furthermore and until the end of time you would be spending it with him and his family. 

The first year was something out of a storybook, a house full of kids and adults, Christmas music all day, and a big festive dinner. Gifts passed around, photos being taken to be added to the end of year scrapbooks. Lots of stories being told; honestly, it overwhelmed you. 

Anne found you outside wrapped up in Harry's coat that you swiped before slipping out unseen. She stood next to you, overlooking her garden with you. "My son loves you; he's brought you here not to overwhelm you but to let you know that you have a family here, and you always will." You let your tears run free, feeling comforted, and loved. "I've never seen him shine as bright as he does when he's with you and when he's speaking of you. We all want you here as much as he does." Anne then pulled you into a long hug, the motherly hug you never got growing up.  Reminded you not to stay out too long. 

Three Christmases later, you now take part in family traditions, helping Anne cook dinner and staying in sweats and playing family games all of Boxing Day. 

It's what makes your move to London with your boyfriend of four years easy. Knowing they want you there, knowing that the love Harry has for you won't fade, you've gone through many hurdles together, and it only strengthened your bond to one another. 

Four years together, and you're still learning new things about each other, like Harry having to have coffee first thing in the morning, bread was a must-have always in the house, and that he owned more mugs than he needed. He picked up that you adored your shoes, meaning you wouldn't throw them out until they were ripped and beat up enough for a new pair. Also learned that you rather eat lots of fruit during the day than making food in the kitchen because it meant more dishes that would be needed to wash. You loved doing the laundry, Harry knew it was to steal his shirts, but he didn't mind. He always knew where to find them. 

The one thing that really surprised him was your love for Christmas music; you knew every song, maybe couldn't remember the name, but you would be able to sing it. It never failed to make him smile; you even knew ‘Feliz Navidad’ and didn't butcher it as he did. 

Your love for Christmas music was signified because you never celebrated the holiday, and music was easy to access. It was what you immersed yourself in. 

This is why Harry is confused when he hears you begin to sing ‘Frosty the Snowman’ under your breath, then switching to a soft hum in the tune of the song as you start to place your freshly washed sweats in their drawers. 

Harry was not sure why you did that; you loved singing out loud. You had a decent voice, as you liked to say, but why switch. 

You're clueless to Harry watching you, deep in thought, trying his best to analyze you. 

Then Harry gasps; it all clicks, making sense. 

You raise your head to look at him, shutting the drawer with your hip. "What?"

"You don't know the lyrics." Harry accuses. 

"To what?" You step towards the bed, wanting to finish the rest of this to finally go down and each lunch. 

"Frosty the Snowman."

"I do." You defend.

Harry smirks, crossing his arms. "Prove it."

"No." 

"Why not?"

You frown before taking a deep breath and begin to hum the song correctly to Harry. 

"Okay, you know the tune, now the lyrics." He gestures for you to go on.

"Frosty the snowman..." Your voice dies down, you rake your brain for the correct lyrics, sending a smaller prayer you're right. "had a shiny nose?" 

"Oh, this is golden, love." He's laughing now. It's filling up the room. 

"Harry," You whine. 

"You call yourself the Christmas Queen." Harry is holding his stomach, his laughter getting to be too much. "Next, you're going to tell me you don't know the lyrics to 'All I Want For Christmas Is You.'"

"How dare you, that came out in our birth year." You're over making fun of you. 

"Okay fine, but really so many years, and you never learned. You said you love all Christmas music, and well, that's a classic, dove."  

You run a hand through your hair, your fingers getting caught on the tips for not brushing it out. "I never actually got to make a snowman, so I never listened to the lyrics."

"Are you secretly a Grinch as well?" Harry teases.

You throw a balled-up shirt of his and hit him square in the face; it quiets him down. "Conversation over." 

You walk out of the room, leaving him alone, to his chuckling. 

_____

In your home, something was always baking. 

It was either Harry trying to better his last bread or you baking a new vegan cake that Gemma sent you. 

It's something you both loved to do.

For you, though, it was your own form of meditation. No matter the time of day, if you felt your head spinning, you'd just head to the kitchen and begin to take out ingredients letting that be your only focus. The Great British Baking Show also brings a lot of comfort to you, Harry happily laying his head on your lap, your hand running through his hair as you just let the show play on and on. 

Now, you're in the kitchen for a whole other reason; you're baking gingerbread cookies, from snowflakes to snowman and even little reindeer. Harry has invited friends over for a fun holiday decorating party. It sounded like a good idea until he left you to do it all yourself as he ran errands that he pushed off for a week. 

Thankfully, there were no distractions during the time it took you to make one hundred cookies because there would be casualties during the decorating. Just as you were putting the last dozen on the cooling rack, does your phone ring causing it to cut off Paul McCartney's singing of 'Wonderful Christmastime.'

As you pick it up to answer, you check the caller id and see that it's Gemma calling. 

Gemma forgoes a greeting and goes straight to the reason for her call. 

"You don't know 'Frosty the Snowman!'" She exclaims more than asks. 

"I'm going to kill him." You groan into the phone. 

Gemma laughs, "No, no, please don't. Mum likes you too much to see you behind bars."

"Gem, he's been relentless." Thinking back to the past few days and how he'd randomly come up to you and just begin to sing the lyrics to you, not shutting up until you tickled him too much to continue. "Please don't let it come up later." 

"I've got you," Gemma assures you. 

"Thank you."

"As long," Gemma begins, but you groan jokingly into the phone. 

"Go on," You sigh, knowing this is how the eldest Styles sibling acts.  

"As long as you tell me what Harry bought mum for Christmas."

"Alright, fair." Very well, Harry would most likely spoil this himself the closer the holiday arrives. 

Just as you were about to spoil Harry's gift, he walks through the kitchen, saved by the devil himself. "I'll tell you later when you get here." You tell Gemma, smiling at Harry as you bid his sister goodbye.  

"Who was it, love?" Harry asks, kissing you lightly on your lips, being able to taste the gingerbread on your lips that makes him beeline to the cooled cookies. 

"Gems, a huge birdie told her I don't know the lyrics to a popular song." You lean against the counter, smiling as he has a cookie in hand already; he is also a big reason you made so many. 

"Hey," He says, offended, a cookie half shoved in his mouth. "I'm not huge." 

"Never said it was you, hun." You smirk. "Thanks for fessing up."

He pouts, not liking that you outsmarted him. 

"Might want to watch the cookies." You pinch his love handles, snatching what was left of the cookie from his hand and heading upstairs. 

Harry watches you walk away, upset that you stole his cookie; also, he knows you love his winter gains. 

_____

You and Harry are up fairly early, he likes to go on a run around the neighborhood, but you like going to the park. This morning you skipped your run because Harry was meeting up with a friend for breakfast. 

Sure, you got up at your usual time at 7am and began to prepare yourself breakfast. You usually drank coffee with Harry and seeing as he wasn't here, you decided to skip it, instead going straight to the fridge to get the fruits and orange juice to make a smoothie. Something simple, not wanting to clean much after. 

As you finally settled on the couch, getting ready to read Educated by Tara Westover, a book Gemma recommended to her then gifted to her. Tara's memoir is her story of how she comes from a Mormon background and recounts how she educated herself to go to college and learn about the world. It's a Friday, and what better way to spend it lost in a book. 

You had just flipped it open when your phone rang, alerting you to a message. As much as you didn't want to check because you were finally in a comfortable position, you knew it could easily be Harry checking in who gets worried about not getting a reply even five minutes after. He's a worrier at heart. 

As you retrieve it and settle yourself back down, not at all comfortable anymore, you see it's a message from Iz. She was the first friend you made on your own that Harry didn't introduce you to. Iz saw you at a coffee shop you began to frequent and complimented your tote bag that had wildflowers embroidered on it. You thanked her and shared you made it. Iz was shocked, just throwing compliment after compliment. You offered to make her one, but she said you had better teach her instead. Thus, a friendship began. 

Her message read: 

Radio 1 Breakfast Show. Listen in! 

It was definitely a strange message coming from Iz, but you did as told. 

Greg James was saying goodbye to his special guest, no idea who it was. "Before he signs off, he's going to play you one of his favorite Christmas songs," Greg says, then silences, allowing his guest a moment before speaking. 

"This week's Christmas song is in honor of my girlfriend who loves singing Frosty the Snowman... without knowing the lyrics. Happy Holidays."  

Your jaw drops. 

That your boyfriend's voice. You are the girlfriend. 

He went on record. 

Harry really went on live radio to tell thousands that you don't know the lyrics to a Christmas classic. 

You want to laugh because you never expected this from him and are annoyed that something personal now the whole world will know by the end of the day. 

You can't wait until he arrives home.

"Harry Edward Styles!" You yell as you hear Harry open the front door. 

He looks sheepish. "Yes, my darling angel."

"You told me you were having breakfast with Greg James, not that you were going to be on the Breakfast show."

"I took muffins, and they provided coffee, therefore, breakfast." Harry defends

"You exposed me to all of the UK to not knowing 'Frosty the Snowman.'"

"No one knows you're my girlfriend." Harry tries to brush it off.

"We've been dating four years; I'm not that much of a secret. Anne posts me on her story from time to time, and your friends follow my Instagram, fuck; you've introduced me to Greg." You're not angry, more annoyed than anything because he won't let this go.

"It's just to give everyone a good laugh; no one is going to hold it against you." 

"No, just my boyfriend and everyone who listens to the Breakfast Show." You cross your arms before storming up the stairs away from Harry. 

"Love? You're not actually mad, right?" Harry asks, pushing the bedroom door open. 

"You even got Iz on it!" Your turn around with a pout on your face. 

Harry laughs. "I honestly thought she wouldn't go through with it."

"Well, I see where her loyalty lies." 

Harry steps close and pulls you into his chest. You sigh, wrapping your arms around him. He knows how much you love his hugs.

"I promise this is the last I mention of it." 

You frown into his chest, not at all believing him. Harry pats your bum, and you take that as the queue to look up at him. He's smiling down at you, leaning in to give you a quick peck. "I promise." 

"Okay, then." You lean in and kiss him, firmer this time and much longer. Harry sneaks his tongue in, instantly getting a moan out of you. 

"I know how you can make it up to me." You gasp, pulling away, 

Harry raises an eyebrow at you. "Do tell." 

A smirk on both your faces as you guide him to the bed, very much hungry for something that wasn't breakfast. 

_____

Harry has the Christmas playlist running; it's a Sunday, meaning they spend it at home doing absolutely nothing. To be truthful, they rolled out of bed past ten and still have their pj's on. Not at all bothering to change, why waste more clothes if no one will see them like this in the comfort of their own home.

You cooked grilled cheese sandwiches for lunch and now are playing a game of scrabble.

Harry puts down the word 'light,' then reaching his hand into the black pouch to pick five letters to have seven once again. You are looking back and forth between the board and your letters, thinking of the best place to place your word. 

"I've got a question," Harry says, looking at you, wanting all your attention as well. 

"What is it?" You're focused on your letters. Rearranging them, not putting down the 'q' in your hand. It's currently useless but will eventually give you a word to win the game. Not that you both ever keep points, oh no, that stopped after you beat harry 120 to 66, and he flipped the board, causing letters to fly everyone. You still claim that there are missing letters. 

"Frosty is a cute name."

"Reminds me of that Wendy's dessert. I'm still not sure what made it so good." You say, maybe you should get up and eat some. Harry did just pick up new flavors that he had been wanting to try something about them being richer in flavor. 

"You're getting off track." 

"Sorry, Frosty is cute for what?" You don't let him answer before you're speaking again. "A dog, did you get a dog?" You pause, looking up at him, "a cat, did Anne find a stray and wants to give them to us?" You wait, but Harry is about to crush all your excitement. 

"None of that." He shakes his head at you, and disappointment fills you immediately. 

"Well, can this conversation end then? I'm disappointed." 

"Darling," Harry chastises you for not letting him go on.

"Go on then, mate." You gesture him to continue. Shifting your attention away from the game in front of you.

Harry frowns, his eyebrows pinching together in the sweet way that makes you want to rub them out until he's relaxed. "Why'd you call me, mate?"

"Oh, I've called you this before." You brush off Harry's reactions; he's always dramatic. 

"I'm not your friend." He states.

You furrow your eyebrows and tilt your head and really look at Harry. "Well, of course, you are boyfriend," You emphasize, dragging out the word. "You're my best friend." 

"You can't say boyfriend anymore. I'm your fiancé now." Harry states proudly, but you feel a little dumbfounded, not knowing why he is saying that.

Your eyes widen when you look down at your left hand, and no ring rests on your left ring finger.

"Fuck, I missed your proposal, and the ring got lost." You pout, trying your best to stop the smirk from coming out.  

"Darling, I'm sorry." Harry quickly apologizes. "I'm still your boyfriend, but I will be proposing soon." He promises. "Shit, you were supposed to not even know. I really am bad at hiding things."

"Fuck, you really are." You laugh, "but boyfriend sounds cute. Can't I still say boyfriend when you do?" 

"Doesn't fiancé sound nicer?" Harry tries. 

You shrug. "Not as fun, husband is nice."

"You're rejecting my future proposal, then." Harry is teasing, and you can tell by the sparkle in his forest eyes. 

"Of course not, you dummy. You can be my fiancé and my boyfriend." You tell him like it was the most obvious answer.

"Seems like a lot of work."

"Rude." You stick your tongue at him. 

"Right, love, well try to remember I'm your husband once we're married, no more boyfriend."

"I will, hubby. You're going to be my hubby."

You both go silent.

You burst out laughing, "That's awful, I hate it."

Harry chuckles, nodding his head. "Yeah, I do as well."

"This is why I'm the brains in the relationship." 

"Right," Harry rolls his eyes at you, not at all agreeing.

"Uh, darling, I went to uni and got two degrees while you only finished school at sixteen before going off to steal millions of hearts around the world." 

"Including yours." He teases.

"I was always more a Zayn girl." You correct him.

Harry throws his arms up, "Can never let me win, can you?" 

"Nope"

"We're off-topic." Harry realizing how far they strayed from their starting point. 

"Where did we start?"

"Frosty." 

You sit back, resting against the couch; you take him in and smile at how cuddly he looks in the purple robe that he stopped letting you use. "Well, go on."

"Seeing as-" He pauses, hearing the familiar opening notes to the song he was thinking of. 'Frosty, the Snowman' is now his favorite song. "Perfectly timed, as you don't know the lyrics to Frosty the snowman."

"Gosh, you're never going to let this go," You grumble. 

"Nope. I figured we will have a little fun with this."

"More fun than the breakfast show." 

He gives you a pointed look.

You let out a long sigh, "Let's hear it." 

"You learn all the lyrics and sing it for me, and I'll let you get us a dog or cat." Harry's grinning at his idea, knowing you'll agree without a fight. 

"Can we go to the shelter?" You look like a kid on Christmas morning who had just received their presents from Santa, and in a way, you have.

"Yes, we can. Only if you can learn the entire song." Harry tells you again, wanting to emphasize the singing.

"Done deal." 

"Great, I'm giving you a week." 

You smile wide, nodding, looking, finally focusing back down at your words and the ones Harry has placed. You put down the word 'queen,' and this wins you the non-official game. Harry looks down at his poorly hidden score sheet and curses under his breath. 

"I win." 

Safe to say you lost more letters that day.

_____

It's been a week, and Harry is patiently waiting on their bed as you get ready in your shared closet. Your shared closet is large and mainly holds all of Harry's clothing. You definitely have a nice share of clothes filled with gifts from friends as well as Harry's friends and your treasured thrifted pieces. You smile at yourself in the full-length mirror. 

Harry really can't begin to imagine what you have in store for him. 

The speaker is set out and ready, and all that is needed is for you to make your entrance.

You shake out your hands in hopes of ridding yourself of the nerves. You look yourself over one last time before taking a deep breath and pushing the door open. 

"Close your eyes." You call out. 

Harry rolls his eyes but does as he is told.

You walk over to the speaker and press play, letting the music fill the room, making your way to stand in front of Harry, who slowly opens his eyes.

He gasps; he feels himself start to get hard. His eyes can't seem to take everything in fast enough. You smirk, loving the reaction you got out of him. It gives you the extra boost of confidence you were needing. 

You stand there, hand on your hip in a sexy snowman outfit to go with the performance you are about to give.

The dress, if you can consider it with how short it is, has three black buttons in the center. The material hugs your chest nicely, giving Harry a nice view of your breasts that are close to popping out. The dress hugs your waist and begins to flow out right past your butt. You wore your favorite black heels that Harry sometimes begs you not to take off. You had on a plaid scarf and a black hat that matched it perfectly. 

You were the human version of the snowman except for a more rated r version.

Harry is sitting his mouth wide open at a loss for words. You blow him a kiss before letting the song lyrics flow out of you.

Frosty the snowman

Was a jolly happy soul

With a corncob pipe and a button nose

And two eyes made out of coal

You sway your hips side to side, singing, enjoying the ravenous stare he was giving you. You throw the hat, letting it fall at his feet, but not even that breaks the gaze he has on you, not wanting to miss a single movement of yours. 

Frosty the snowman is a fairy tale they say

He was made of snow

But the children know

How he came to life one day

You take a few steps forward, but never enough to allow him to touch you, and he's craving it; you know he is. His hands are gripping his thighs, his knuckles turning whiter by the seconds. 

He still hasn't said a word. You have him mesmerized. 

You sing the lyrics proudly, knowing you practiced all week for this moment. The moment Harry will never forget all the teasing he had been doing, always forgetting you win these battles. 

There must have been some magic in that

Old silk hat they found

For when they placed it on his head

He began to dance around

"Baby," Harry breathes out, putting a hand out to touch you, but you take a step back before he can do so. 

You smirk, shaking your head no at him. You were having a lot more fun than you expected. 

You bend over, slipping off your heels, never breaking eye contact with Harry; he could very easily see up the dress that you had nothing underneath. His green eyes turned dark, and you swore your heart stopped, and you were sure he was about to attack. You were the prey, taunting him until he had enough, but surprisingly enough, he took a deep breath, and his composure was back well, just a bit of it.  

O Frosty the snowman

Was alive as he could be

And the children say he could laugh and play

Just the same as you and me

You stopped right in front of him. Harry's eyes trained on your red lips, hanging out to every word you were singing. You reached a hand back and began to unzip the dress. The grin on your face excited for the next reaction you were about to receive. 

Once you reached the bottom of your back, the dress fell to the floor. Harry let out a loud gasp. Your breasts on display, the small owl tattoo on your hip staring at him, he could see how wet you were, and all he wanted was his head between your thighs as you screamed his name. 

You were a dream. You missed Harry's touch. It was the reason you stepped close enough for him to finally pull you in. 

He led them down the streets of town

Right to the traffic cop

And he only paused a moment when

He heard them holler "Stop!"

Harry has no expression on his face as he sits you on his lap. He lets his head fall into your next, feeling how wet you are through his thin sweats. You move to stand up, but he grips your hips tightly, thrusting his hips against yours, searching for some kind of relief or a reaction from you because you still haven't stopped singing. 

"Baby, stop singing." His hand is cradling your cheek as his lust-filled eyes stare at you. 

You shake your head, not letting him distract you. The only piece of clothing left was the scarf, and Harry lets out a growl before ripping your scarf off your neck, throwing it off to the side.

Now you truly sit there naked in his lap, and you feel all the control you have over him. The song is coming to an end, meaning you've got to remove yourself from your favorite place to sit but knowing you'll be back there soon enough. 

Frosty the snowman

Had to hurry on his way

But he waved goodbye, saying

"Don't you cry I'll be back again someday"

You sing the final lyrics in his ear before walking away to turn off the speaker, an extra sway to your hips, knowing Harry is very well still watching your every move. You stand a delighted look on your face as you wait for his praise. 

"Those were the longest two minutes of my life," Harry says; he puts a hand over his heart, feeling like it might just burst out. "I'm never going to be able to listen to this song in public or around anyone that isn't you." 

You smirk, thrilled to hear that.

"What did I do to end up with someone as beautiful and perfect as you in my life." He confesses. 

"Probably stopped a war in a past life." You throw out jokingly. 

Harry puckers his lips and makes grabby hands at you. "Kissy, please?"

And who are you to say no? He spreads his legs, letting you step in between. You slip your fingers into his hair, pulling back with enough force to have him let out a moan. You lean down and connect your lips in a hot kiss, one that has Harry gripping you tightly wherever he can get his hands on. You moan as he slips his tongue into your mouth, and you happily give up the control to him. 

You pull back and rest a hand on his chest, preventing him from pulling you back for you. You wipe your thumb over his bottom lip that now has some of your red lipstick. "Seems like I won, sweets."

"I feel like the real winner here," Harry tells you cheekily, sneaking a kiss to both your boobs. You giggle, not at all surprised by his action. 

"Well," You fiddle with the collar of his shirt. "Why don't you show me how winners celebrate?" 

"With pleasure." Harry groans standing up quickly and pushing you back against the best. He strips as fast as he can, not without a small stumble; you're sure to keep your giggle quiet, knowing very well how easily he gets embarrassed. 

He is quick to get on top and kisses you hard. His kisses are always soft, but it seems the teasing seemed to flip a switch, one that you will happily remember to look to turn on again on a later date. Tonight, you are ready for an endless night of pleasure and love. 

Harry connects their lips, ready for an endless night of pleasure and love. 

_____

Christmas cards were a lovely tradition. Harry insisted they started because he wanted to show off his beautiful girlfriend to his friends and family. He also liked them handwritten because it added a nice personal touch. Who were you to argue about it?

This year you were the one excited to send them out. 

It read: Merry Christmas from our beautiful family to yours

You and Harry sat in front of the fireplace, four stockings hanging behind you. Harry made you sit in his lap, wanting to show off your matching two-piece buffalo plaid pajamas. You both had the biggest grins on your face, eyes shining bright. Next to you, laying on top of a box that was wrapped with blue sloth wrapping paper, was a one-year-old Australian shepherd that had spent the better of six months in the shelter because the small pup was quiet who didn't do well with people, but that changed instantly the minute he met you. You decided on the name Frosty for him. Not only did Harry get you the dog of your dreams but a small kitten as well. You brought home Snow, a six-month white Birman kitten who was the rut of his siblings, and how could you just not bring him home with you with his big blue eyes staring at you begging to add to your family because he had lots of love to give. At least that's what you told Harry what the look he was giving you meant. The two siblings laid next to each other, both surprisingly staring right at the camera, making it their best Christmas photo yet. 

A photo can honestly speak a thousand words because one glance at this photo tells you how much love there is in that home and their relationship. 

Christmas was all about spreading joy and love, and well, Harry accomplished just that for you.

_____

thank you so much for reading! i honestly hoped you loved it and would love to hear what you thought so send me a message if you like. 

i love you!

[dioko]

NOT JUST ANYONE.

izuku midoriya x gn! reader

Word Count -> ~ 1810

Genre -> oneshot, fluff 

Content -> mildly suggestive (spice rating is 1.5/5), drunk reader, swearing, college au! characters, older reader and younger deku | please lemme know if i missed anything!

Summary -> You really did believe a certain Izuku Midoriya had his nose buried in his textbooks 24/7. Your first impression of him had led you to pin him as a downright nerd - boring and young and nowhere near your type. 

a/n -> 1. idk about the cover page i jus thought deku looked cool there and the oneshot title is eh 2. this was in my drafts for a long, LONG time and today i finally got it to the point where i didn't hate it. enjoyy <333

Once, you really did believe a certain Izuku Midoriya had his nose buried in his textbooks 24/7. Your first impression of him had led you to pin him down as a nerd - boring, and young and nowhere near your type. 

Boy, were you wrong.

The first time you’d met him, he’d smiled at you with such bright, green eyes, it was almost impossible not to smile back.

“Hello, l/n y/n, s’nice to finally meet you! I’m Midoriya Izuku!” He'd very obviously sunken his voice an octave lower, and whether that was on purpose or not, it was still cute. Still innocent, still pure. 

Not attractive, whatsoever.

“Yeah,” you'd turned your attention back to your work,“it’s nice to meet you too.”

After that, your ever-so-impatient brother had rushed him into his room, and Midoriya had obliged - not before shooting you one last glance. In hindsight, there might’ve been something just a teeny bit darker that had resided in Midoriya's lively eyes. 

Then, weeks passed. 

Was it just you, or did college students grow really, really fast?

As he left your brother's work room for the millionth time that month, you found yourself noticing how different he looked compared to when you’d first met him. Now, when Izuku waved a (large, my god) hand at you, he looked taller, broader… older. 

“See you," he chirped to his friend, bringing you back to the reality where he was most definitely not older than you. 

Wake up, you're practically a senior citizen, you’d chided yourself, there’s no way he’s mature enough for you. Then, another side of you, presumably the devil that sat on your shoulder, tried to argue. You’re not much older, it said, he’s practically the same age as you.

“Oh wait- there was something I had to ask you, l/n-”

“S’fine, you can call me y/n, ‘Zuku.” you didn’t intend to call him something so intimate, the words just.... absent-mindedly slipped out your mouth. 

Oopsies daisies!

“Oh! I - I can? Um… ah,” you watched, mildly entertained by the way he tripped up his words, all from a nickname, “we’re all going out tonight, and I was wondering if you wanted to come-”

“Who’s we?” 

“Er- me, and… and your brother! And a few others!”

“Oh?” You couldn’t let yourself smile, not yet. 

“It’ll be fun!” He sputtered, “a lot of um, a lot of… um, drinking?” It sounded more like a question than a persuasive statement. 

You blinked. “Yeah sure, that sound’s good. I didn’t take you for someone who drank.”

“I don’t?”

“Then why are you going?”

“I thought it would be a good way to spend time with y- my friends.”

“Ah, your friends.”

“Yup,” he squeaked.

“Okay then!” You smacked him playfully on his arm - his large, extremely toned, t-shirt-stretching arm - and jolted him out of his fear, “I’ll see you then, ‘Zuku!”

>>

Izuku Midoriya had a surprising number of friends. 

He had, in a gentlemanly fashion, offered to walk with you to the bar (though your brother was there too) and when you stepped in, you were taken aback by the several people at your table. 

Your guts told you to sit beside the angry one - he looked… fun. 

“Who the fuck is this?” The blond talked like you weren’t there.

“Kacchan,” another blond - with a black streak in his hair - chided, “be nice to the pretty birdie!” Was he drunk already?

“Yeah, Kacchan,” you smirked, “respect your elders.”

The first blond just about exploded on the spot. 

“Watch your mouth,” he seethed at you.

“Hot,” you muttered, unaware of evergreen eyes that couldn’t seem to peel themselves off your lips; your soft, pink, kissable lips. 

“What the fuck?” Kacchan flinched back.

“Sorry,” you grinned, “I meant ‘little snot’.”

“Yeah? I’ll show you little sn-”

>>

Four flirtatious advances from three of Izuku’s friends, two hours and 1 mental breakdown later, you were finally ready to go home - everyone was, really - but where was your brother?”

“Deku,” he’d hissed at the greenette, “I’m not going back to the apartment today, can you take-” he gestured towards you, slumped over a pile of food, “- that thing back to the apartment?”

Izuku opened his mouth, about to ask why he couldn’t but immediately shut up again when he realized it was more time he had to spend with you. “Yeah, no problem.”

“Don’t try anything.”

“Wasn’t gonna!” Awkwardly, Izuku scooched his way past Sero and Uraraka, trying to find a place to put his hands so he could lift you off the table. Luckily, he didn’t have to. 

“Ah, ‘Zuku!” You gave him a cheeky grin, “you’re friends are so…” you watched Bakugou, “... cute. Have a drink!” It was almost laughable how quickly you changed from topic to topic. Almost. The only non-laughable part was that Bakugou seemed to be a recurring theme. 

Izuku pursed his lips, “no, you’re drunk. One of us has to be clear-minded enough to take you home.”

“You’re so smart! Good boy,” you ruffled his hair with a sticky hand, and your rapid strokes fell to a halt when you realized how soft his green hair was. “Wow,” you whispered, “I love your hair. Lemme smell it-”

“NO, no. We’re going home.”

“We?” A smirk played on your lips. 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you frowned when he didn’t stutter - he didn’t even go red. Izuku’s entire demeanor had changed; there was no nervous little college guy right now trying to talk to you, there was a friend (haha) genuinely trying to get you home safely. “Now c’mon, can you walk?”

You stood up and skipped a few steps. “Yup.”

>>

“So, Izuku,” you didn’t bother to hide the fact that you were (very greedily) squeezing his biceps, “gotta girlfriend?”

“N-no.”

“... a boyfriend?”

“Nope,” he popped the ‘p’, and pulled you onto the wall-side of the sidewalk when a car drove by. 

“Any significant other...ss?” You added the plural, just in case. 

“No,” he smiled slyly at you, “why? Are you interested?”

You’d known him for months, but this was the first time he’d said something so forward, enough to make your cheeks flare so hot they felt cold. 

“No way,” you spoke like it was obvious, and then quickly checked to make sure he didn’t look hurt. “Hey! Why do you look so amused?”

“M’not,” he turned his head, so you couldn’t see the smile. 

“You are. Why?”

“Ah, I can’t say. We’re here,” he punched in the apartment code. “You should get ready for bed.”

There was a small, comfortable pause before drunk-you decided to ignore his advice and speak again. “So, do ya like anyone?”

“I like a lot of people,” Izuku smirked. 

Smirked.

“N-no,” you played with the hem of your sweater, “I meant, do you like-like anyone?”

“Hm,” he thought for a second, “that’s a secret.”

“C’mon ‘Zuku! You can trust me!”

“I know that - gimme your coat,” he set it onto a nearby couch and began to flick on random lights, “I still can’t say it, though.”

“Why not?”

“Y/n,” you froze. He’d called you by your first name before, why did it feel so weird now? 

“Yes?”

“I’m taking you to your bedroom.”

“You… you are?”

“You’ve got to sleep.” 

Oh. Boringggg. 

“I don’t wanna,” you hissed, flopping onto your bed anyways. He took a seat at the foot of it. 

“Do you… do you ever remember anything once you're sober again?”

“Nope!” You knew you should’ve lied, but you didn’t, “m’friends say I don’t remember a single thing the next morning.”

He chuckled a little bit, almost in disbelief at you. “That’s not something you can just tell anyone.”

“I know, but you’re not just ‘anyone’.”

“I feel like I’m talking to a child.”

“I’m older than you.”

“Yeah,” he laughed, “it’s kinda hot.”

“What?” Did you mishear? “How do you know what hot means?”

“Y/n! I’m not that young!” He laughed, “sheesh, that hurts.”

“Hurts?”

“Yeah,” he smiled coolly. After all, you weren’t going to remember this conversation. 

“”Why does it hurt?”

“... No reason, don’t worry,” he laughs again, for the third time in a row, but it feels dry to you, and empty, too.

“So who do you like?” You chirped again, completely disregarding his ‘I’m pretty sure I just got brother-zoned’ ideology. 

“I told you, that’s a secret…” then, he bit his lip, “... but you won’t remember anyways, right?”

“Yep!”

“Then... I like you.”

“Who?” You smiled. 

“You.”

“Oh, I like you, too.”

“I like-like you.”

“I like-like you, too.”

“You’re drunk,” he smiled sadly, “sleep.”

“I want fruit.”

“Now? You want me to go get you fruit?”

“Please?”

You inhaled the bucket of raspberries, “anyways, I really do like you. You’re so small and cute.”

“I’m small?”

“No, you’re built like a tank,” you giggled. Sober-you would have called drunk-you an airhead, “I think you’re sexy as hell.”

“Yeah?” 

You leaned closer to him. You were sure he could smell alcohol and sugar on your breath, but you didn’t care. “Yeah.”

“Then can I tell you something else?”

“Sure!”

“Kacchan annoys me so much,” he wiped off the juice that dribbled down your chin with his thumb, and you made the mistake of leaning into his touch, “especially when he flirts with you.”

“When’s he ever flirted with me?”

“Tonight,” Izuku pulled back, and you (embarrassingly) fell forward. “I didn’t like it.”

“Were you jealous?”

“Yes,” he admitted, and quite shamelessly - but only because you weren’t sober. 

“Aw, don’t be jealous,” you cooed at him, and then randomly, “you remind me of bunnies!” 

“That’s cute,” his voice was hoarse, “then, can you promise me something, bunny?”

You flushed hot. “That - that’s not what I meant, I meant you’re my bunny.”

“Sure,” he nodded along.

You shuffled yourself a little closer to him. This wasn’t the Midoriya Izuku you’d come to know, who was he? Why was he so different from the twitchy student who cared so much about his grades?

“What did you want me to promise?” It was a good idea to change the topic, you thought, for his sake, not your own. Definitely. 

“Promise me you won’t let Kacchan get so close to you anymore,” he played with your fingers, “you can do that, right? You... can be a good bunny for me?”

“Mhm,” you couldn't refuse when he put it like that.

“Go to bed now, it’s late.”

“On one condition.”

“And what’s that?”

“Kiss me.”

Izuku paused. His eyes were on your lips, that was for sure, but he showed no sign of moving closer. “M’not gonna do that when you're drunk.”

You frowned. 

“I’ll sit with you ‘till you're asleep. I’m not… touching you, though.”

“Manly,” you murmured.

“Human decency,” he corrected. 

The greenette pulled your covers above your waist and moved to the desk chair in your room, “good night, y/n.”

It was a shame this would all be forgotten, and the two of you would be back to square one by morning.

a/n -> yes the nickname has everything to do with my URL and so what 

[toraodwaterlaw]

An End and a Beginning

Having survived Minion, Rosinante is reassigned to East Blue, where he and Law will start their new lives. 1700 words, CoraLives!Au, mild hurt/comfort, found family

-

“I’m ready.”

Law was seated on his bed, a full length mirror in front of him and a scalpel in his right hand. Neither was strictly necessary- neither the mirror nor the scalpel- but he insisted they helped. He really only needed to feel out the lead with his powers, not to see anything, but Rosinante could understand how weird it would feel to work blind, more or less. That he could still operate with everything flipped in the mirror only proved what a remarkable doctor he might have been had life been less cruel. Perhaps he still would be. Rosinante certainly hoped. Law would have his whole life ahead of him once this was finally over.

As for the scalpel, well, apparently it worked as a sort of focus for the Ope-Ope to work through. It made Rosinante wince, made the whole thing seem more like a normal operation, but it was infinitely preferable to the sword Law had first suggested using. Apparently the boy already had ideas on how he might use the Devil Fruit to fight. Rosinante had to draw the line at practicing that on himself. It was bad enough Law had to operate on himself.

“Ready,” Rosinante repeated. He nodded and looked down at Law a moment more. He wouldn’t stay. He never did, not after the first time. Law insisted that it didn’t hurt but Rosinante couldn’t bear to see him like that. It looked too close to dying even if it was more like the opposite. “Right. I’ll be guarding the front door like always. Just right out there,” he said, knowing all the while it was more a reassurance to himself than to Law who was seemingly unfazed by the whole process. “If you need me, all you have to do is call for me.”

Law rolled his eyes. “I know, Cora-san.” He waved the scalpel in his hand menacingly. “Now get out of here. You’re distracting.”

Rosinante nodded and promptly tripped over his own feet on the way to the door. He caught himself on the door handle and smiled sheepishly back at Law who only scowled in return. He found his usual seat outside the room with a heavy sigh. One more operation and this would all be behind them.

For as much as he himself had told Law that the fruit wasn’t magic, he’d somehow imagined this would be over with one miraculous wave of the hand. Law would awaken to his new powers, find the lead in his veins and pull it all out in one go. Instead, it had been staggered over the course of weeks. Law had needed to learn how to use his powers and then they’d both found just how much energy it all took. The real delay came, Rosinante would admit, had come at his own insistence. He hadn’t been around for the first attempts at operating, since he’d been held up on Minion while Law went ahead to Swallow. Law himself had been tight lipped about how that had gone but from what he’d gathered from the other boys that had been there, there had been blood loss. Just how much he’d never know. In his opinion, any was too much. 

Rosinante shook his head to get that particular image out of his head. He patted down his pockets until he found his cigarettes. He flicked at his lighter with a trembling thumb and nearly caught his hair instead of the cigarette with the resulting flame. He sucked in deep and let out a long, smoke filled breath. His eyes slid closed. He needed to focus on the positive. This would all be over soon. Already, life was coming back with a flush in Law’s skin. It would be a while before the patches in his skin would be gone completely but sunny Windmill Village was doing a lot to help vitality along. Law was healing. They both were.

He’d have to find a way to thank Sengoku and Garp. Maybe he’d just send food and drink along under the guise of souvenirs. At least Garp was likely to accept. Sengoku was still pretending that sending a Marine Commander to such an out of the way posting was a punishment. Rosinante knew, though, just how many strings the Fleet Commander likely had pulled to get him here. As important as the rulers of the Goa Kingdom might consider themselves, they didn’t really merit a strong naval presence.

“I’m done.”

The voice was quiet and weak enough that he nearly didn’t hear it but he was on his feet in an instant. He gripped the wall to keep upright and then stumbled in through the door. Law was seated just as he’d been before. If Rosinante didn’t know any better, he’d think nothing had happened. He did know better, though.

“Done? All done?”

“That’s what I said, you stupid clown,” came the expected reply. There wasn’t nearly as much bite in the insult as there once had been. Law fell back onto his bed. Rosinante took a worried step forward before he saw the smile on Law’s face. “But yeah, it’s all done. Not a trace of lead left.”

Of the two of them, Rosinante had most definitely been the more optimistic one about this whole process. Yet, here he was, unable to quite believe it. The past weeks had been so hard and the six months before that had been harder still. It felt impossible that they’d both survived it all and now would get to simply get on with their lives.

Law opened one golden eye and fixed it on Rosinante. “You think I’m lying to make you feel better or something?”

Rosinante gaped. The forgotten cigarette dropped from his mouth. He stomped it out with a yelp before anything was burnt. “No!” he insisted. “It’s just—”

How could he explain? But Law was smart. He got it even without words.

The boy sat up. “See for yourself.” He extended a hand and was surrounded in a sphere of shimmering blue. “Scan.”

That blue light intensified and shone in a path that followed the careful sweep of Law’s hand. Rosinante knew from previous experience exactly what Law was showing him. There was nothing. No lead. No lingering illness.

Rosinante’s face split into a wide smile. He could see Law biting back on a smile of his own as he threw himself back down into the bed.

“Told you, idiot. I thought you crammed that fruit down my throat because you believed in my medical skills.”

“I did. I do! But after everything…”

“Yeah. I know.” Law chewed on his lip and a complicated expression crossed his face. Whatever it was about, when it passed, there was only a smile left in its place. “I might’ve scanned three or four times before I called you in. Just to be really sure.”

“But it’s over.”

“It’s over.”

How many times would they have to repeat that before either of them believed it?

Law had let his eyes drift shut again. Rosinante took the opportunity to really look at him. He wondered what changes the next months and years would bring. Law was still rather small for his age. Rosinante knew he was hardly the best judge given he was, as Law would point out, rather larger than average himself, but the boy hardly had the look of someone on the cusp of adolescence. Hopefully without the constant strain on his body, he would be able to catch up with where he should be. Perhaps he’d never be as tall or as bulky as he might have been but only time would tell. Rosinante chose to hope for the best.

And then there was his skin. Amber Lead Syndrome was blessedly unheard of all the way out in a rural corner of East Blue but Rosinante knew Law was still self conscious. Every curious look or question about the white patches made him pull into himself. Although the people of Windmill Village had overall been very kind and accepting, Law would undoubtedly be more comfortable when his skin was clear of any lingering paleness.

Rosinante’s heart swelled thinking of that future. Maybe Law would start to open up more, find friends even. He knew Garp’s grandkids were about somewhere. And that was only the start of it. Law was smart, he was strong, and now he was healthy. The future was practically limitless.

Rosinante threw himself into the bed next to Law, causing the boy to bounce up into the air with a yelp.

“Oi! Watch what you’re doing, you giant oaf.”

Rosinante could only smile. He ruffled a fond hand through Law’s unruly black hair. “We should start looking at what medical training is available. There might not be anything somewhere so out of the way but there’s plenty of time. We can find you the best training. Go anywhere you want.”

Law rolled his eyes. “Give me a few seconds to breathe, would you? I only just finished getting rid of the lead and you’re already planning out my entire future.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll try not to get carried away. But…” Rosinante hesitated. He knew this was a sensitive subject given all the time Law had spent convinced he was going to die. Still, the boy needed to start looking ahead at some point. “Have you thought at all what you might want to do now?”

Law was silent a moment and Rosinante thought he had perhaps pushed too far. Then Law smiled. “I was thinking…” Rosinante propped himself up onto his elbows and waited. Law’s smile only grew. “Maybe I’ll become a pirate.”

Rosinante’s eyes widened. “What?” He swatted at Law, only to be easily dodged as Law hopped over him and off the bed. “You brat! You aren’t going to be a pirate.”

Law threw back his head and laughed as he continued to dance out of Rosinante’s reach. It was a boisterous, youthful thing that the blond couldn’t help but love the sound of. Law was still a brat. He would probably always be a bit of a shit but there would really be time ahead for him to grow. Mature. There was finally a future that both of them could see and Rosinante couldn’t bring himself to care at the moment whether that included Law turning pirate or doing anything else he might imagine.

[miraculouswolf99]

Field Trip To Greece

My own take on the Field Trip salt stories that usually are crossovers with Batman and have Damienette. But this is my version with them going to Greece and involves my OCs Lyon and Vallia Garden.

*****

“Mari, Mari, MARI,” Adrien basically yelled into his friend’s ear.

Marinette woke up with a jolt in her bus seat.

“What,” she groaned, never being much of a morning person.

“We’re almost at the sanctuary, so I figured to wake you up,” Adrien smiled at his friend.

“Thanks and curse how fast this bus is,” Marinette said.

“And curse Hawkmoth for late night akumas,” Adrien suggested.

“That to,” Marinette agreed. “Even in Greece, he still finds a way to annoy us in Paris.”

“Well, you brought the horse miraculous for a reason,” Adrien said.

“How are you not tired,” Marinette questioned him.

“I’ve always been a morning person,” Adrien shrugged. “Blame my father for a lot of early morning photoshoots.”

“I’d slap your father if it did not mean risking my future as a fashion designer in the process,” Marinette says.

After revealing themselves to each other after Miracle Queen, the two had developed a more brother-sister relationship. They both thought that it would be better for them to know each other after having all their allies exposed to Hawkmoth and Mayura. They joked around, teased each other, and also always had each others backs.

Having each other’s backs certainly helped them when Lila’s lies got worse. After Chloe had willingly helped Hawkmoth, she had been sent to a private reformatory school in Sweden. Lila took the opportunity to tell more of her lies, saying that she had been telling her “best friend” Ladybug to keep the Bee miraculous away from Chloe for months. And just like everything else Lila ever said, their class ate it up like it was their last meal.

Adrien had joined Marinette almost immediately after he made his “deal with the devil” in order to get her back into school. He threw himself off the “high road” the moment that Marinette told him that Lila threatened her. But even with him backing up Marinette every time she caught inconsistencies in Lila’s tales, there were still few that actually believed them. Some even went as far as scolding Marinette for her “brainwashing Adrien” into thinking that Lila was a liar.

Kim, Juleka, and Nathaniel were the only ones that stayed loyal to their friends. Especially since Marinette had done so much for them in the past. Like curing Juleka of her photo curse, helping Nathaniel get together with Marc, and Kim had been her friend since they were in diapers. With their group was also Kagami, Luka, Marc, Aurore, and Mireille. The rest of Bustier’s class was pretty much made up of Lila’s attack dogs.

What annoyed Adrien the most was how his so-called best friend. Nino may be siding with his girlfriend, Alya being Lila’s biggest supporter/attack dog, but that also meant he was part of the problem. He certainly never helped Adrien when Lila would constantly hold onto his arm no matter how many times he told her to let go. It was driving Adrien crazy and he was very close to taking Plagg up on his offer to Cataclysm the liar.

“I bet the garden is going to be beautiful,” Juleka says, her seat next to the two heroes.

She was sitting next to Nathaniel while Kim was in the seat in front of Adrien and Marinette. They were all in the seats at the back of the bus.

“I heard that the Garden Family Sanctuary is ranked as an unofficial wonder of the world,” Nathaniel said.

“Anyone else find it odd that a nature sanctuary is run by a family with Garden as their last name,” Kim asked.

“I think this is one of those ‘don’t think about it too much’ times,” Marinette shrugged.

“I haven’t been here in years,” Adrien was glad to be back.

“You’ve been here before,” Juleka asked.

“There was a charity fashion show here about a year before my mother disappeared,” Adrien explained. “I was here with my parents for it.”

“Did you meet any of the animals here,” Kim looked excited. “I heard that they let any animals here roam free even when they have events or tours here.”

“The animals do roam around the sanctuary as they wish,” Adrien says. “But the Garden family and all their employees work hard to tame all their animals privately to make sure that even the predators do not harm anyone. They spend months to years taming them before releasing them into the main part of the sanctuary.”

“It really sounds like an amazing place,” Marinette said.

“I can’t wait to draw some of the animals,” Nathaniel already had out his sketchpad. “Marc requested I draw him the most amazing animal that I see. No pressure. Haha.”

Juleka patted his shoulder, but her obviously hiding her laughter made her attempt to comfort him fail. 

But, as usual, their good moods had to be ruined by the Italian that never seemed to go five minutes without hearing the sound of her own voice. And, also as usual, she was spouting her nonsense. They were very close to throwing her out the back of the bus if she did not stop talking.

“Of course I know the Garden family,” Lila brags, lying through her teeth. “They are basically family to me.”

“Here we go again,” the five friends groaned.

“The mother and her two daughters mostly handle the plants,” Lila continues. “The father and their son handle the animals. It’s only natural since they are the only ones that can stomach having to put down the more dangerous animals.”

“Tell us more, Lila,” Alya was recording the entire time.

Adrien growled. “There has never been a case of an animal being put down at the sanctuary. The closest that comes to that is when an animal gets sick and there is nothing they can do to help it.”

“They have to put it out of its misery, don’t they,” Marinette asked.

Adrien nodded. “The youngest two Gardens speak fluent French, so I was able to spend some time with kids my own age during the fashion show. They told me that while it breaks their hearts, it is better than letting the animal suffer.”

“I can see where they come from for that,” Juleka says. “They love, take care of, and train all the animals. So it’s only natural that they form a bond with them.”

“I know I am not the brightest person in class, but how can they believe such crap,” Kim shook his head. “Whenever anyone even slightly mentions someone famous, she instantly says she is either best friends with them or somehow related to them. It’s impossible.”

“Tell that to the sheep that follow her around like she’s god’s gift to the world,” Marinette rolled her eyes.

“Makes you wonder if we really are the only ones in class with braincells,” Nathaniel, of all people, said.

The bus doors opened as it came to a full stop at the sanctuary. Bustier was the first out and the class followed her. They all first went into the sanctuary. And even from what little they could see from where they were, it already was one of the most beautiful places any of them have ever seen.

Trees, flowers, and even fruit and vegetable plants were growing as far as their eyes could see. The entire sanctuary also seemed to be covered by a glass dome, making an environment similar to a greenhouse. It made sense since there were probably plants in certain areas that needed to be grown in certain temperatures.

But today the dome’s windows were open, letting in the natural light of the sun, even if it looked like squares on the ground because of the dome’s window linings.

As Bustier lead them to a stop, two teen their age approached the group. Adrien recognized his two penpals. The ones he met in Greece when he was there for the fashion show. Lyon and Vallia Garden.

Vallia was quite beautiful and had a grace and elegance to her style. She had long blond hair braided with roses and butterflies and had pink streaks. Her eyes were a stunning silver that you could see, if you were close enough, had specks of blue in them. Her style was a red, pink, and purple dawn colored dress with gold flats. On her wrists were diamond rose cuff bracelets, a butterfly on the one on her right wrist.

Lyon gave off a very icy exterior that also screamed honor and loyalty that only a knight would have. A tall boy with hair that was black with streaks of white and blue in it, coming to the length of Adrien's. His eyes were the opposite of the girl's, blue with silver specks. His outfit of choice was a sky blue t-shirt under a white jean vest, matching the blue pants with white boots. On his hands were white fingerless gloves. Around his neck was a sword and shield pendant as well as a white cloak only going down to his knees.

They all also saw that the two did have crystal medallions on their foreheads. Vallia’s was a rose quartz butterfly and Lyon’s was a sapphire wolf.

“Your pen pals are hot, Adrien,” Marinette smirked as she saw her honorary brother staring at Lyon.

“Shut up,” Adrien grumbled, making Marinette giggle.

Bustier turns to the class. “These two are going to be our guides through the sanctuary. Please show them the proper amount of respect since they are the ones that work here.”

Lyon and Vallia gave the teacher the side-eye. While they technically did work there, their family owned the sanctuary and it was like Bustier had completely forgot about that and thought that they were just employees of the sanctuary.

“Shouldn’t we be guided by adults,” Mylene asked, trying not to sound offensive to the two teens.

“We’re your tour guides because we are the only ones here fluent in French,” Lyon told the class, his French flawless.

Adrien hid that he was chuckling behind his hand. He knew the twins were fluent, but the looks on his classmate’s faces when Lyon spoke in French was just so funny.

“Before we begin, let us introduce ourselves,” Vallia said, also switching to French. “My name is Vallia and this is my twin brother, Lyon.”

“Please also take note of a few rules of the sanctuary,” Lyon says. “While the animals here have been tamed, do not touch or interact with them without permission. Certain movements or actions could cause them to badly react. They are all also on specific diets, so do not feed them unless we give you food to give them.”

“The plants should also all remain untouched,” Vallia added. “There are certain plants here that are not native to the area and survive here only because we created the right environments for them. Especially the ghost orchid. There are barely even 2000 ghost orchid plants left in the world and they need to remain here so that they do not go extinct.”

Most of the class nodded, understanding the rules. Lila hid how annoyed she was at not being able to take whatever beautiful plant she wants or touch any cute animal that she sees.

The tour than began, the class following the twins deeper into the sanctuary. Already they were starting to see a ton of the animals that lived there. There were some animals of Greek origins. Such as brown bears, red deer, lynxes, rock lizards, weasels, and wild boar. There were also more international animals. Like white-tailed deer from North America, jaguars from South America, pandas from China, African panthers and lions, Indian tigers, horses from Canada, even komodo dragons from Indonesia. And that was just the beginning.

“The Garden Family Sanctuary was founded almost a hundred years ago by siblings Apollo and Persephone Garden,” Lyon says. “Having been named after the god of the healing and the goddess of flowers, they had always loved helping nature and animals.”

“They started out with an animal shelter that took in any and all animals,” Vallia continued for her brother. “They had a very clear rule about being a no-kill shelter. The more popular they became, the more room they needed. And since they already came from a rich family, they bought more land. And over the years, it grew into the sanctuary you see today.”

“With the amount of animals and plants coming, there has been chat about buying land on another island to expand the sanctuary,” Lyon said. “Which means more area to protect from smugglers and poachers.”

“Your French is very good,” Marinette compliments them.

“Thank you, we’ve had years of practice,” Vallia says.

“It helped when we hosted a few French fashion designers here a few years ago for a charity fashion show,” Lyon said.

Adrien caught the smirk that Lyon sent his way. It made the blond blush.

The group continued walking through the sanctuary. A few of the animals curiously looked at the group, but chose not to get near them. There were a few did cuddle up to the twins, who happily petted them before sending them away with a treat in their mouth.

But even as the twins tried to talk about the sanctuary, Lila was still telling her lies as the classmates not under her spell surrounded her. They listened to her more than they did their actual tour guides.

“Yeah, poachers and smugglers try to get in all the time,” she was saying. “The first time I was here, I saw one and tried to tell the employees and they didn’t believe me. They certainly did after I single-handedly stopped him from taking a rare blue tiger.”

“That is so cool, Lila,” Rose unknowingly encouraged more lying. 

“They should make you a partner here if you caught a poacher that they did not even know was there,” Alya said.

“They wanted to, but my mother said I was too young to be part of a business,” Lila says.

Adrien saw the twins look at each other as they hear what is being said. He knew that while the two were mostly quiet around those they do not know, other than when they gave tours, they would definitely not take liars sitting down. They were extremely protective of their family, which was why Lyon practiced archery while Vallia is an expert with the bo-staff.

“The Garden family would never offer someone outside of the family a part of the sanctuary,” Lyon stated, making the class look at him.

“We would appreciate you not tell such tall tales about such a charitable family,” Vallia crossed her arms. “They are well-respected by all of Greece and do not deserve to have such lies told about them.”

The class looked very insulted at the accusation of Lila being a liar, which happened whenever anyone said that. It happened more than you think since Bustier’s class was the only one in the entire school that actually believed her. Everyone else knew that Lila was nothing but a liar.

“Something tells me that things are about to get interesting,” Juleka whispered to the rest of their group.

“You’re the one that knows them, Adrien,” Marinette says. “What do you think they’ll do?”

“I’ve been in contact with them for years,” Adrien said. “And from all I know about them, it’s a slight miracle that Lyon hasn’t already threatened to shoot her with an arrow.”

“Does he do that often,” Nathaniel raised an eyebrow.

“Only to those that really anger him, really annoy him, or threaten his family,” Adrien said. “But that last part also includes the sanctuary and all of the animals kept here.”

“Guess we should be thankful that he doesn’t have them on him right now,” Kim says. “Even if he could get rid of our liar problem with a single shot.”

“Lyon was actually scouted by the coach of the Greek Olympian archery team,” Adrien tells them. “But Lyon doesn’t like competition. He says that they are nothing but barbaric events meant to to do nothing but enlarge egos and decrease braincells.”

“Can are class even lose what they don’t have,” Marinette smirked.

All of them laughed at her joke. When Marinette got sassy and sarcastic, it was hilarious. She could sass-talk like nobody’s business.

“Haw dare you,” Lila put a hand over her heart and then started up the crocodile tears again. “How could you be so mean to me?”

That was when her sheep glared at the twins.

“Lila is not a liar,” Alya was her main supporter as usual. “You’re nothing but simple employees. I bet you do not even know the Garden family. Lila, on the other hand, is basically an honorary member of their family.”

Both twins crossed their arms this time, staring down the class.

“Let us fully introduce ourselves,” Lyon narrowed his eyes at them. “My name is Lyon Garden and this is my twin sister, Vallia Garden. Our family owns this sanctuary and neither of us nor the rest of their family have ever met this girl.”

Adrien was seriously smirking at this point. He had seen this coming and was very glad that it had finally was. Especially since Lila did not even get the number of family members right. There were two Garden parents, but the children were another story. Lyon and Vallia were the youngest of the family, but Vallia was the only girl and they had two older brothers.

“You’re probably just lying to make Lila look bad because you’re jealous,” Alix glared at the twins. “She’s connected to the Gardens while you are not.”

“Don’t believe us, we don’t care, but we do have a friend in your class that knows who we are,” Vallia giggled. “Isn’t that right, Adrien?”

The sheep looked at the model. He only smirked as he joined Lyon and Vallia’s side.

“You two certainly know how to make an impression,” Adrien tells them, chuckling.

“If we really wanted to make an impression, I would have started at my favorite wolf den,” Lyon snickered. “But I would have been too tempted to order my wolves to eat them.”

Adrien laughed at the looks of horror on his classmates’ faces.

“If you guys haven’t figured it out, it was my family that the twins were talking about before,” Adrien says. “We were the ones that came here for the charity fashion show. It was great to meet the two youngest members of the Garden family.”

“So these are the sheep that follow that liar like lost puppies,” Vallia looked at Adrien. “The liar that doesn’t know how to take ‘no’ for an answer?”

“Got it in one, Vallia,” Adrien says. “And she’s been telling lies about your family since this field trip started. She even said that your family was three girls and two boys.”

The twins rolled their eyes.

“Wow,” Lyon shook his head. “Vallia might wish she had a sister, it’s just us and our two older brothers with our parents.”

Vallia playfully slapped her brother’s shoulder.

While Adrien took his two friends over to the rest of his group to introduce them, the rest of the class finally seemed to get that Lila did indeed lie to them. They turned on her like lions on an antelope and started yelling at her for lying to them.

The twins made mental notes to contact their parents about needing to sue a girl for slander and defamation. 

[essays-for-breakfast]

When the Daisies Bloom

Kiane Week Day Two: Flowers/Daisy

Diane has never cared much for flowers. Most of them, while pretty to look at, don’t fill her stomach. And whenever she spent too much time marveling at the blossoms, yellow and white, vibrant pink and soft blue, with small petals and elaborate calyxes, the daylight would fade too soon, and she would have to fetch water in the gloom of the night or endure the thirst. In Megadoza, no one had an eye for these short-lived bursts of color when they turn a dull stretch of grass into a painting. Even if she had cared to ask before she left her people and their mindset for an autumn adventure, no one would have told her the names of these blossoms. For the longest time, she doesn’t know they have names.

Until she finds a Fairy by the riverside.

He has trouble remembering his own name, just like she has trouble pronouncing the complex syllables the first few times. Harlequin. Unlike anything a Giant would call their child, almost like a piece of foreign music. But he gives each flower they stumble across a name and a story.

The yellow, starshaped ones that like to show their faces to a crowd of same-looking blooms – daffodils.

The tiny buds in blue and purple that are the first to crawl out of the earth after the cold – crocuses.

The pack of upside-down tankards that will turn the ground between the forest trunks a short walk south of Diane’s cave into an indigo carpet – bluebells.

Whenever Diane goes to the river to fetch water, Harlequin flies beside her and points at a shrub here or a bush there. Some won’t produce buds before a few more months. But Harlequin describes them in such detail, from the way the blossoms will rustle with the wind to the scent they will share with the world, that Diane can imagine it all. This way she learns to identify broom, bluebeard, and summer lilacs before they change their green attire for a colorful dress.

The days grow longer. An orchestra of crickets gives daily concerts, and as long as Diane doesn’t have to see the bugs, she can enjoy their play without a disgusted shudder. Even at night, the air outside her cave tickles her bare arms with warmth.

She lies on her back and plays with a flower crown Harlequin made for her. A few turns of his forefinger, and the blossoms of the meadow across the river have danced in the air, held the hands of their neighbors, and formed a circle of merry ball guests in pink and white and violet.

“Harlequin?” Diane asks, and he sits up to look at her. “How do you know so much about flowers?”

He tilts his head, a move he always performs when he ponders. “I grew up surrounded by flowers, I think. Everyone there knew them by name, and some people took the names of flowers they liked for themselves. It must seem like a weird thing for a Giant…”

Diane shakes her head. “I don’t find it weird. I would have rather learned about flowers than about weapons and the different ways to gain honor in battle. That’s why I went away. Everyone at Megadoza only cares about fighting for the sake of fighting. Why did you go away?”

“I don’t remember. I think I wanted to help someone… but my head’s all fuzzy.”

Diane rolls over until Harlequin’s face hovers mere inches away from her nose. Her breath distorts his hair, and a pink shimmer covers his skin.

“Maybe you wanted to help me!” Diane says. “Since I found you, you have helped me to tell the good fruits from the ones that make my stomach all twisty. And you have taught me everything about flowers. I would have never found the little waterfall or the stone circle on the other side of the beech forest without you. It’s been a lot more fun than anything I did back with the other Giants. Can I tell you a secret I never told anyone?”

Harlequin has forgotten to blink, and he almost forgets to nod too. Diane fights down her giggles. What she is about to tell him is important.

“In the third night after I found this cave, a snowstorm roared outside. My fingers wouldn’t move because of the cold, and I forgot to collect wood for a fire. The rooms of Megadoza aren’t warm, the stone always spreads this cold that seeps through your toes and then your entire body. But at least there were other people around, many orphans who huddle close to each other. In this cave in the middle of the storm, I didn’t have anyone else. That’s when I made a wish. I held my lips close to the earth – because that is the only way your wish will be heard – and asked for the earth to send me someone to help me. A friend to share this cave with. And since that night, I always whispered the same wish to the earth. I only stopped after I found you. You fulfilled my wish, Harlequin.”

Again, he has forgotten to blink. His eyes shimmer as she looks at her.

“I’m sorry,” he says with a hoarse voice.

“Why?”

“For the horrible things you had to go through.”

“You apologize too much.” With these words, Diane plucks a white freesia from her crown and shoves it into his hair, knocking him over in the process.

The next morning, a ray of sunshine caresses Diane’s cheek. For a handful of heartbeats, she snuggles deeper into her bed made out of dry leaves and squeezes her eyes shut. But then she sits up. Harlequin’s slow breaths have maintained their rhythm. He can sleep for hours, probably days on end without growing tired of it. A shame considering all the amazing new things the day may have in store for them.

But when Diane crawls out of the cave, and her eyes adjust to the brightness, she shrieks.

Snow. In the middle of summer. The meadow in front of her cave, a vast plain of grass blades yesterday, has disappeared under a white blanket. Weird yellow blobs are sprinkled across the snow. Diane reaches out with a finger and shrieks again when the contact lacks the expected cold.

Harlequin races outside, still a little confused after the sudden theft of his sleep. “What is it, what happened, are you alright?”

And he would have continued his barrage of questions if Diane hadn’t grabbed him out of the air. With both hands she shakes him, up and down like an oversized rattle.

“WHAAAA!” she screams. “I shouldn’t have told the story about the snow, I never wanted to make it snow, I take everything back, forget I said anything in the first place. And then do your magic and lift this course from meee!”

Harlequin’s head bobs back and forth, but the pats he gives her fingers to calm her don’t spare him from more violent shakes. “Diane, Diane, stop, please. Diane! Okay, I promise I do my magic. Everything will be alright. Just hold still for a moment.”

Diane obeys but presses her eyes shut right away when the weird snow attacks her vision. If she doesn’t look for long enough, maybe the white will go away.

A strange sound comes from Harlequin. By the eternal earth, maybe he is dying. The snow is killing him. And it’s all Diane’s fault because her story summoned the white devil to their threshold.

She needs several moments to realize he is laughing.

“Diane, it’s not snow,” he says, and the joy clings to each of his words. “Look again.”

Maybe he has gone mad. But in the end, Diane trusts Harlequin and cranes her eyes open. The ‘snow’ still covers the meadow, despite her best attempts at wishing it away. Only that it isn’t snow after all. Uncountable white flowers have sprouted overnight, an entire ocean of them, and the yellow dots make up their heads.

Harlequin wiggles free of her loosened grip and plucks one of the flowers to offer Diane a closer look. “They are called daisies. We had a cool early summer, so they are a little late. You can find them all across Britannia on plains and hills just like this. That’s… what someone told me at least. I’m not sure.”

“Next time, they should be more considerate than to scare me so much. I want a heads-up before they invade our lawn,” Diane says and makes a face. But it’s hard to stay mad with the funny-looking flowers for long.

Harlequin kneels down and brushes the flowerheads. “I like them. I didn’t get to see them often in the forest, but when the daisies show their petals, you know summer has arrived. They also taste great in company with wild salad and beetroots. Did you know that they follow the sun with their bloom?”

“I didn’t even know they existed until this morning.”

A flash of pink colors Harlequin’s cheeks. “Oh, you’re right. Sorry.”

“You apologize too much,” Diane says with a snort. “But I like them too. As long as I don’t have to think of them as snow. And I like summer even more. Let’s make a promise, okay? At the beginning of every summer, we will watch the daisies in full bloom. Then we can celebrate a year of our friendship.”

Harlequin smiles as he looks at Diane. A hint of distant sadness swims in the amber of his eyes, another promise broken, another life forgotten. But in this moment, he is happy. That’s what Diane wants to believe.

He uses his entire hand to grab her outstretched finger and shakes it. “It’s a promise.”

Summer comes and goes. All while the daisies bloom on the fields surrounding their home, Diane and Harlequin find an excuse to waste time outside, chasing each other across the hills, spinning in senseless dances, or lying amidst the ocean of white flowers. Harlequin weaves another flower crown for her, a gift she tears apart in her endless enthusiasm and cries over the broken remains until he tinkers a new wreath, even lovelier than the last. She tries the salat he mentioned, but politely declines a second serving in favor of another piece of pork.

Diane has never cared much for flowers, but daisies in particular spread their roots inside her heart. All because of Harlequin.

Summer comes. They craft a garland of daisies and decorate the cave with it. Okay, Harlequin does most of the work, Diane’s fingers struggle against the fragile shafts in vain, but she supplies him with bucket after bucket of new flowers to the point where he can’t keep up anymore and has to admit his defeat with a laugh.

Summer comes. Diane lies on her back amidst the daisies and watches the stars. Their soft scent lingers in the air, even though they have closed their blooms. Harlequin sits on her stomach and points at the bright freckles in the sky’s dark face, a few of which he recognizes from before she knew him. The small lights dot the sky like daisies in an endless blue field.

Summer comes. The air has warmed over the past days, and Diane no longer needs the blanket Harlequin made for her after she lay sick with a fever. And when she returns from the river with an armful of hunted boars, the first daisies stretch their heads towards her. She giggles and picks the prettiest one out of the gathering to surprise Harlequin with the good news.

But the cave is empty.

“Harlequin?” Diane asks. Her voice echoes from the barren stone walls. She drops the meat, and turns over the loose rocks, hurls them outside, even though she knows he would have answered her.

Gone. Has he remembered his past? Did the people he knew in his old home feel the same numbness in their stomach when he disappeared? Has he forgotten her the same way he had them? Harlequin promised to watch the daisies with her.

He promised.

Diane fails to realize she has crushed the daisy between her fingers until the petals rain to the ground. Like snowflakes they cover the place where Harlequin went to sleep last night, right next to the big mold in the pile of leaves where she sleeps.

A hiccup cramps Diane’s throat, and her eyes sting. Rubbing them doesn’t help. Her fingers are cold against her face. He promised.

And that’s when his voice sounds from the cave entrance, and Diane’s heartbeat jumps so high it pounds in her head. “Look what I found, Diane, it’s the first—”

She suffocates the rest of his words as she plucks him from the air and squeezes him, so tightly that he could never possibly leave her side ever again.

“Are-are you crying?” he asks in between desperate coughs for air.

“Don’t leave me, you promised to stay with me.” The tears streaming down her face muffle her voice, but it doesn’t matter. Harlequin hasn’t left her. And when this realization grabs hold of her brain, Diane eases her grip just enough to let him breathe.

“I won’t leave you. We promised to watch the daisies together, don’t you remember? I found one at the back of the cave. It’s a bit dented, but it still means summer has arrived, right? I’m sorry I made you cry, I thought I would be back before you noticed.” Harlequin offers her the flower, and when she ends her stranglehold around his torso, he places the battered daisy in her hair. “Can you forgive me?”

Diane sniffs. “Of course. As long as you make sure to hold your promise from now one.”

“I will.”

Summer comes. Summer comes and goes many times, way past the point where Diane can count them with her fingers. One field of daisies blends into the next and the next, and the one after that. But no matter what happens, Diane and Harlequin always celebrate the beginning of the warm season surrounded by daises. If she could make a wish to the earth so that life went on like this forever, Diane would do so in a heartbeat.

But no flower can blossom forever.

The sun slowly climbs over the mountain peaks and bathes the meadow in soft pinks and oranges. Diane sits in front of the cave and taps the ground in an endless drum play with her feet. The early rays of day warm her skin, but instead of the pleasant feeling, her mind only focuses on the implications the morning carries with it.

Harlequin has been gone for a long time.

When he left, the moon has painted his skin in a ghostly white. Like the porcelain plates Diane once saw a merchant sell.

Now, the moon has gone to bed, and she searches the sky above the northern hills for a sign of Harlequin in vain.

She sighs. Harlequin promised to return, and he has never broken a promise he made to her. Still, she kicks the ground to give her feet something to do other than fantasize about running after him.

A blob of white beside her catches her eyes. The smile tugging at her lips comes on its own. Lured forward by the warmth of the morning sun, a single daisy has spread its petals and welcomes the summer. Around midday, the meadow might already wear its yearly dress of white flowers. Diane strokes the early daisy with her pinky, careful not to crush the small plant. All will be good. Harlequin has promised to watch the daisies with her. Even if he is a little disappointed that he didn’t find the first flower, they will soon laugh and forget about it.

The birds shift into a new tune as the sun rises higher.

And then Harlequin emerges from the hills, and Diane’s heart beats faster the closer he comes. He smiles that smile ridden with half-remembered pain and stretches his hand towards her.

He came back, he came back like he promised, and they will watch the daisies together, celebrate the beginning of summer, and they will chase each other across the field of snow-dotted grass, and everything will —

 Summer comes. The stone walls of Megadoza emit a little less cold than throughout the rest of the year. Diane has nevertheless seized the opportunity to escape her training when another Giant distracted Matrona with a report on the last successful battle.

Outside of the Giant capital, a mild breeze brushes the dry grass, and the scent of wild roses and thyme greets Diane’s nostrils. How wonderful to finally trade the endless combat sessions for a simple walk. There is nothing to worry about, except for the nasty butterflies bobbing across the plain in search for nectar. Diane narrows her eyes. Just because they top the ranks of the least disgusting insects doesn’t mean she welcomes them to ruin this perfect afternoon.

One of the confused yellow butterflies discovers the sweet plant juice it is looking for, but Diane’s Giant shadow succeeds in chasing the bug away. In its place, a white flower amidst the clover remains.

A daisy.

Where did she learn that name? The person who first taught her about this flower must have been someone important. But Diane’s head is all fuzzy.

She kneels down and brushes the delicate petals. “You apologize too much,” she says, but she can’t figure out what this sentence means or why the words sprung to her mind just now.

Diane has never cared much for flowers. But something about daisies and the first days of summer sparks a warmth that makes the days at Megadoza more bearable.

If only she could remember…

[skullrock]

the partners | Steve x Reader

chapter one: please, please, please, let me get what I want 

series summary: you and Steve are police apprentices at Hawkins Police Station in the fall of 1986. you get along famously, but there’s something Steve is hiding, and there is an unknown evil lurking in Hawkins. [friends to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff]

chapter summary: Steve finally agrees to hang out outside of work. 

warnings: swearing, 80s music 

word count: 2.4k

a/n: this chapter is mainly a ton of exposition, but it’s gonna get better I PROMISE. huge thank ya to @wolfish-willow​ who gave me some beautiful ideas (milky coffee + danish loving Steve) that helped this fic come to fruition <3 enjoy!

--

You pull into Hawkin’s Police Department at 7:30, a half hour before your shift. There are two coffees in the cup holders of your car, and a paper bag filled with two pastries on the passenger seat. You pull in beside your partner’s car and he hops out, a smile plastered on his face. He crawls into your passenger side and grabs the bag.

“This one’s yours,” you say, pointing to the coffee cup marked milk w/ dash of coffee. He laughs, pulling out his blueberry danish and handing you your strawberry donut. He bites into his pastry and lets out a sinful moan, making you smack his arm.

“It’s too early for you to be gross,” you say, but he looks victorious.

“I’m sorry you don’t like my happiness,” he quips, and you roll your eyes.

It was tradition that every Monday that you both worked, you’d get coffee and pastries from the local bakery and shoot the shit in your car until your shift started.

“So, I had a dream last night where I was dating Mia Sara,” he says.

“Wish that were me,” you reply, taking a sip of coffee. “Did it work out for you guys?”

“Nah, she left me for Harrison Ford.”

“Tragic.”

He pauses, listening to the music softly coming from your radio. He scoffs upon realizing what was playing.

“Stop listening to this sad shit,” he says, turning the dial, making you shout.

“It’s the Smiths!” You try to bat his hand away, but he manages to change the channel to a Queen song. Typical.

You and Steve had become good friends after securing your positions, despite your perception of him in high school. After the fire at Starcourt and the death of Jim Hopper, the federal government had given the Hawkins Police a grant to let aspiring cops train directly in the field. It would fast-track getting certified, eliminating the need for expensive schooling. It was like a paid internship. A paid internship where you basically get paid to bullshit with your best friend all day.

A third car pulls in. It’s Veronica, the secretary. She takes over on days that Flo wants off – she’s worked hard enough for it. Veronica was a bit obsessed with Steve, so he groaned when he saw her get out and wave.

“What do you think she’s going to say to you today?” you giggle, and Steve rolls his eyes.

“Probably, like… that she had a dream about us last night, or something.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “God, please don’t let her talk to me.”

Women were throwing themselves at Steve the minute he put the uniform on, but he claimed he wasn’t interested in dating. You weren’t really sure why, given his history, but he never answered any questions. He just said he wanted to focus on work and having fun, so you let him.

Steve was kind of a mystery to you. You were incredibly close at the station, but you’d been working with him for a few months and you never saw each other outside of work. There were talks of maybe going to a movie, but they never went anywhere. It was bizarre, considering how fond you both were of each other. But you didn’t want to push it, unsure if you were making him uncomfortable.

In reality, Steve was just nervous of letting people in. Not just because of his history with girls and friends, but because he also had Russians and demons to worry about. He felt that if he let anyone new into his life, he would be putting them in mortal danger. This viewpoint is also the reason why he applied for the apprenticeship in the first place.

When the position popped up, Steve had no second thoughts. He had looked up to Hopper greatly since the time Will was possessed. He knew without a doubt that he wanted to follow in Hop’s footsteps. But he also felt an obligation now that Hopper was dead. Joyce had left, taking Will and Eleven with her. The three people who had the best grip on the strange events that had occurred the past three years were gone, and the man who devised most of the plans (and executed them) was gone, too. Steve couldn’t sleep at night for months. He needed to constantly call the kids and Robin to make sure they were safe. Being part of the Hawkins Police seemed like a no-brainer; it was a way to ensure everyone was safe and be on the frontlines to protect them.

Not that he ever let this on; usually he would just say that he’s always wanted to be a cop, and he kept it at that.

You’d decided to do the apprenticeship after college didn’t work out. You went to one in Indianapolis after high school, but you weren’t really into it. Your parents decided to retire and travel for a few years, offering to let you have the house while they’re gone. You gratefully took them up on it, and you’d been living there since the spring. You’d enjoyed a few months off, but decided it was time to find something new to do. You’d always had a fantasy of being a hero. Maybe not a hero cop, but a hero. You wanted to save lives, make an impact. Being a police officer seemed like a good start. You knew it wouldn’t be like the movies, but the strange events that happened the last few years excited you. Maybe you’d get the chance to be someone you’ve always wanted to be.

“Why don’t you just give Veronica a chance?” you ask. “She’s pretty and she’s nice and she’s smart.”

“She literally told me she wanted a lock of my hair,” he says.

You choke on your coffee. “I forgot about that.”

“Yeah? I didn’t.”

Steve’s watch beeps, signaling that it’s 5 minutes until 8.

“Please keep talking to me when we go in,” he begs as you both climb out of the car.

“What’s in it for me?” you inquire.

“I will give you all of the lunches my mom brings me for two weeks.”

You pause. “Even the Fruit Roll-Ups?”

He sighs. “I’ll throw them in if you do a good job.”

You successfully make it past the reception desk without incident, waving hi to Callahan and Powell. You knock on the Chief’s door to signify your arrival, and you and Steve make your way back to the annex you worked in. Your desks faced each other, making it easier to talk through your 8-hour shifts. They were usually pretty boring. You and Steve were only cleared to respond to calls about petty things, like noise disturbances. But it’s not like much ever happened anymore in Hawkins, and the town had almost made it a full year without any weird occurrences.

A few hours go by, and boredom runs rampant. You hated Mondays: things hardly ever happened. Steve gets up around 10:30 and puts a mixtape into the boombox in the annex. Don’t You (Forget About Me) comes on, and Steve mutters, “aw, hell yeah,” under his breath. You know he’s going to start dancing, but it doesn’t stop the surprised smile on your face as he starts to swing and spin and sing. It’s magic, watching Steve dance. It makes no sense, it’s clumsy, it’s so white that it hurts; but it’s also hilarious and never fails to pick you up. Sometimes you’d join him. Other times, you’d call him an idiot. And sometimes you’d just watch as the magic unfolds.

This was one of those times.

--

The door to the annex opens around 1, approximately 5 hours into your shift. You and Steve are begging for something to do, because throwing M&Ms at each other isn’t fun by the second hour. You’d just thrown one at Steve when the door swings open, and you and Steve look at the intruder with wide eyes. It’s the Chief.

The new Chief was okay, you guessed. He was also brought in by the feds. He was a kind older man, with deep set blue eyes and wispy white hair. He could have come straight out of a storybook. You thought the Chief delegated nicely, and you’d shared a few good laughs. Something always felt off, though – but you and Steve chalked that up to the fact that you both were extremely biased against anyone who wasn’t Hop.

“Noise disturbance call,” Chief Edwards says. “Some kids out on Maple Street are causing mayhem.”

Steve groans and throws his head back. “Please tell me it’s not 30 Maple Street.”

The Chief blinks. “It is.”

“God dammit,” Steve says under his breath. It’s Mike’s house.

You and Steve get into a patrol car and set off.

“Do you know these kids?” you ask.

“Yeah, they’re kind of… my kids?”  He scrunches his nose. “I keep them out of trouble.”

You pause, confused. “So, you babysit them?”

“No, no,” Steve says. His face grows slightly red. “They’re my friends.”

Steve pulls into the driveway of the house, blaring the siren once to scare the kids that were on the lawn. Their faces quickly went from scared to excited as they saw it was Steve in the car.

You both get out of the car, and Steve takes the lead. He puts his hands on his hips and faces the kids. There were 4 boys and 2 girls, no older than 16, if you could guess. One of them with dark hair is holding a hose, and the others are wet.

“What are you shitheads doing?” Steve asks sternly. A couple of the kids giggle.

“What seems to be the problem, officer?” the red headed girl asks.

“I told you we were being too loud,” a kid you recognize as Will Byers says. He is smart, sitting on the porch and just watching, amused.

“Right,” says Steve, pointing at Will in recognition. “Way too loud. Mike, where’s your parents?”

There’s a beat, and then the girl standing next to the red head quietly says, “Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler aren’t home.”

Steve sighs. “Alright, well, you could always act like idiots inside the house, you know.” He looks at the dark-haired boy holding the hose. “Mike, what are you doing with that?”

The boy’s face breaks out into a devilish grin, and you can predict what’s about to happen. He points the hose at Steve and a curly haired boy turns the handle to let the water spray out, missing Steve by a hair. He jumps back.

“HEY!” he shouts. “Not cool dude, not in my uniform!”

“Wimp,” you laugh, and push him forward, allowing him to get splashed. The kids cheer, and then Steve’s hands are on your arms, and he swings you around to get hit, too. You gasp at the freezing feeling on the back of your legs, but burst into laughter, trying to wrestle Steve back into the flow. This goes on for entirely too long before you suddenly realize that it probably isn’t a good look to be out here responding to a call and then partaking in the offense.

“Steve,” you say, and that’s all it takes for him to snap back into reality.

“This is fun and all,” he says, letting you go. “But we came to bust you, not join in.”

The curly haired boy turns the water off and Mike sets the hose down. Steve has a way with kids. He’s able to level with them and call them out at the same time. It’s pretty great to watch and it’s certainly something you admired him for.

“Who’s this?” the curly haired kid asks, grinning widely.

“Oh,” Steve says. “This is my partner, Y/N.”

“Do you get to carry a gun?”

“Lucas!”

“Sorry!”

“You hang out with Steve? That must suck,” the dark-haired boy, Mike, says.

“Every single day,” you say solemnly. “It’s the worst.”

“Hey,” Steve says quietly.

“I’m kidding, bud.” You punch his arm lightly. “You’re the best.”

You look back at the kids and they’re all staring at you with wide eyes. It makes you uncomfortable, so you clear your throat and say, “Well, uh – shift is almost over. We should be going.”

After an awkward farewell and another “please be quiet or I’ll kick your ass” from Steve, you both get in the patrol car. Steve sees Dustin gesture to call him, and he rolls his eyes, pulling out of the driveway.

“Why did they look at me like that?” you ask. “Because I said you’re the best?” You pause. “Do they hate you?”

He’s quiet for a while. Finally, he says, “I think it’s because we are really buddy-buddy but… I don’t really… I haven’t ever really… talked about you.”

You turn in your seat to face him. “Do you hate me?”

“Of course I don’t hate you.” His cheeks are red – he’s flustered. “You’re one of my best friends –“

“Then why don’t you ever talk about me? Or hang out with me?”

“It’s complicated,” he sighs. “It’s really complicated. I just – I don’t like … I get nervous about having new friends.”

You nod slowly. “Tommy H. and Carol.”

“Yeah.” It’s not really why he’s nervous, but it’s a good excuse. “I don’t want to get dicked over again.”

“Man,” you say, turning back to face the road. “I buy you a blueberry danish every single Monday. And a coffee. And I let you sing Queen at the top of your lungs, and I let you dance, and sometimes I even let you do it at 5 in the morning. I think if I didn’t want to be your friend, you would know by now.”

He’s quiet, thinking. You look at him, trying to read him.

“I guess I owe you the pleasure of hanging out with me,” he says after a while, a smile forming. “So maybe we can hang out Friday night.”

You gasp and throw your arm out, hitting him on the shoulder, making the car swerve slightly.

“Jesus –”

“Do you mean it?” you shout, smiling widely. “We can hang out?”

“I said maybe,” he teases. “It’s board game night with the kids – maybe you can come?”

You start chanting his name – “Steve Steve Steve Steve Steve! Really? Are you for real?”

“Yes!” He laughs and rolls his eyes again. “I’ll pick you up. It starts at 7.”

You smile so hard that your cheeks hurt.

Steve silently hopes he doesn’t regret this.

----

taglist (message if you want to join!): @harrington-ofhawkins​ @wolfish-willow​ @gothackedalready​

[ubernoxa]

The Dare: A Guns N’ Roses Fanfiction

Chapter 35: Bring Her Home

(Masterlist)

Pairing: Duff Mckagan/OC

Story Summary: A stupid harmless dare, that’s all it was supposed to be. It was supposed to be something they would do, and never revisit. For Delilah, little did she know that visiting the strip wasn’t going to be a one time thing when she made the choice to accept the dare. Life is full of choices. Some choices can mean absolutely nothing, while others can change your entire world. Delilah had heard many rumors about the Sunset Strip or Devil’s Strip. Teenagers would whisper stories about how the Devil walks the streets of the strips without a care in the world. It was known as a place untouched by God. After years of hearing rumors about the Devil’s Strip, Delilah wants to see it for herself. Thus a Dare was born.

Chapter Summary: Mags finds out Duff and Delilah had sex, and Mark finally gets the nerve to pop the question.

Taglist: @gingerspicetalks @str4nge-haze @queen-crue @dustnbones

It was cold.

Everything was cold.

Even the sunlight that shined through her apartment windows was cold.

Her eyes quickly scanned the room, and the only thing that changed from the night before was that Tonya was most likely in her room, fast asleep. A state Mags envied.

As if Mags was on autopilot, she took a shower and got dressed for the day. She was still mad at her brother, but she still sprinted towards the bus stop not wanting to miss the bus that would take her to her brother’s apartment. Not only did she have some food she wanted to drop off, but she also wanted to check up on Del.

She adjusted her jeans as she sat on the hard plastic seat watching the bus shoot through traffic. Part of her wondering the entire trip how the bus drives didn’t get into an accident. It was borderline impressive.

“Morning Mags,” Mags turned to see a familiar blonde smiling at her.

“Hey, Sasha! What’s up?” Mags would describe Sasha more as an acquaintance than a friend, but Mags always puts on a smiling face. Like her brother says, it’s a lot better to spread happiness than make enemies.

After several minutes of casual small talk, Mags began to get the sense that there was something Sasha wanted to ask. There was something lingering in the girl’s eyes, and when the conversation began to die off, Sasha always kept it going. Mags knew something was up, and hoped it wasn’t about the stupid article. She was in no mood to deal with talking about how the bastard got her pregnant.

But sure enough, only a few moments later, Mags paranoia was proven right.

“So if you want, I’m having a big party...we’ll Christian my...boyfriend...is having a party at his place this Saturday, and I’d love to see you there...unless you know….it might be weird because...of the...whole pregnancy thing,” Mags took a deep breathe as it took every ounce of her sanity to not punch Sasha. Mags wasn’t Axl, she wasn’t him by a long shot. Unlike him she could control her temper, or atleast that is what she told herself.

“The pregnancy thing? Ohh you mean that bullshit article? Girl that was full of lies! What he chose not to mention was that I broke his heart because he wasn’t my type,” Mags let out a fake laugh to try to cover the lie that rolled off her tongue.

Was she going to admit she was pregnant to Sasha? No.

Was she going to admit that Drew, the man who wrote the article, shattered her heart into a million pieces? No.

Why? Because that’s not who Mags Adler was.

“Oh my god! The fucking bastard! I tell ya, the media only wants a story that sells their magazines. It’s despicable that they don’t think about how the lies they are telling are going to affect the people. Like I bet that Stef girl who is dating your brother never said how he wouldn’t make it. And oh that Del girl, I bet she does more than fawn over Duff and be his groupie. Like the girl has to have a life. I should have known this were off when the article framed Trixy as a good person. She is a fucking bitch,” Mags nodded and smiled as Sasha spoke.

The truth was Del really didn’t have much going for her besides the fact that she was in love with Duff. Of course Del had hobbies, but none that paid the bills which was a discussion for another day. Mags tried not to think of it, but Del was turning into a groupie. She quickly reassured herself that Del technically wasn’t a groupie Del wasn’t going around having sex with Duff, but little did she know what Del did last night and into the morning.

Part of Mags wondered if Stef actually said what she said. There were parts of the article that were true, but it was also filled with lies. Did she mean it when she said her brother was going now where? Mags knew with her whole heart that Stef adores Steven, but there was a small pit in her stomach that said otherwise. Mags tried connecting the dots on my Stef had been making excuses and events for Mags to go to that happened to be on the same days as concerts, but there wasn’t any connection. It just didn’t make sense.

“So I’ll see you on Saturday?” Sasha asked, pulling Mags from her train of thought.

“Maybe? My brother is playing a gig, but maybe after?” Mags offered the girl a soft smile as she saw her stop coming,

“Yeah, we will be partying till sunrise! Feel free to bring friends! Chriantian’s place is huge and there will be a live band!” Sasha smiled before Mags pulled the cord asking for the bus driver to stop.

It was only a 10 block walk for Mags, one she had gotten used to over the years. She kept her head high as she took in the peaceful strip. It was weird seeing it like this, but at 8 AM in the morning this was to be expected. Mags would admit that she appreciated the silence over the cat calls. She figured that one of the few benefits of being pregnant was that once she started to show she would get fewer cat calls.

Once inside the apartment, the smell of a cooking kitchen hit her like a truck. Eggs, onion, peppers, and paprika filled her nose causing a smile to grow on Mag’s face. Del was awake!

She froze as she saw the tall blonde over the stove instead of little Del.

“Hey Mags, how’s it going? Are those apples for breakfast?” Duff casually asked as he continued cooking, as if this was a normal occurrence. Mags placed the bag of apples on the table trying to make the confused look that grew on her features.

“What’s wrong Mags? Did you think those were oranges or something?” Mags shot her attention to Izzy who was sitting at the table. Mags wanted to slap the smirk off his face, but she knew that would only get her kicked out of the apartment, and if she was going to be kicked out it was going because she slapped Axl.

“Those are red apples to be exact,” Mags ignored Duff’s comment and placed the apples in the one of the few bowls that was at the apartment. It was a actually her bowl, but after a month of fruits rolling off the table, she figured they needed it more than her.

“Where is Del?” Mags asked quickly looking around the kitchen and their sad excuse for a common area.

“Still sleeping, she had a busy night,” Duff casually said, earning a snicker from Izzy.

Mags froze in place as she heard Duff’s comment.

“Did you fuck my roommate?” Duff was taken aback by Mag’s tone. She seemed agitated. What did she care? They were two consenting adults. Plus he would barely count Del as Mags roommate since she slept with him most nights.

“What does it matter-“ Mags cut Duff off before he could continue talking.

“I asked, did you fuck my roommate? It’s a yes or no question?”

“It’s none of your fucking business what I did between me and my grilfriend. Fun fact Mags, you can’t control everyone. Del isn’t your puppet,” Duff shot back, making sure to keep quiet so he wouldn’t wake Del.

In another room, Del remained frozen in Duff’s bed using his only blanket to hide her naked body. She tried to make sense of the emotions that were currently flowing through her.

Regret wasn’t the right word. She loved Duff, and from what she knew, she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him.

Pride was also wrong. She wasn’t proud of losing her virginity. It was something she was taught her entire life to protect and save until marriage. Having sex was sacred.

It wasn't that she wasn’t happy, but she also wasn’t sad. She possibly felt more content than happiness or sadness.

Shame, was another word that filled her head. Shame was the word that she felt right for her. She was ashamed that she had gotten so tipsy that she lost her virginity to the man she loved.

“Hey, you okay?” Del rolled over towards Slash as he spoke.

“Yeah...just trying to figure out how to get out of this pickle. I feel kinda…..”

“Gross?” Slash finished Del’s sentence earning a nod from the girl.

“I wouldn’t recommend putting your clothes from last night on, they’re probably still wet. I can grab a shirt from Duff’s stuff to help you cover up,” Del nodded at Slash’s kind offer, but before Slash could get up to help Duff walked into the room.

“And this is my cue to leave. I believe Duff has this under control,” Del shot Slash a quick smile as he headed out of the room to enjoy some breakfast. For the first time, Slash was kind to her. Usually he just existed in the room she was in and never truly interacted with her, but now...now he was kind.

Izzy’s words echoed through Duff’s head as he joined Del on his bed. He had to be slow and gentle with her.

“How are you feeling,” Duff played with her hair as he spoke, watching the curls bounce as he dropped them.

“I’m sore, and I feel gross,” this caught Duff off guard as a frown flashed across his face.

“Like you regret it,” Duff let a sigh escape him. Fuck, Izzy was right.

“No, I don’t regret it. I regret the fact that you don’t have a nice shower though,” Del teased back in attempt to make him smile. It worked, and she felt her heart flutter as a smile formed and she guided him gently ontop of her.

“Ohh is someone ready for round two?” A cocky smirk was placed across the bassist’s features as he hovered over Del.

Del let out a soft chuckle before shaking her head no.

“I’m still sore Duffles,” she cupped his chin as she watched a smirk cross his features. This was a view Duff would do anything to see. His small little Del, under him in full view.

“Did you...did you make breakfast?” Del asked, trying to change the scene that had unfolded in front of her.

“Yeah, and Mags brought apples,” Del smiled at the mention of Mags. It was good to hear that she left the apartment.

“How...how tense is it out there?”

“Well Steven is asleep, and Mags came in with a bitchy attitude so pretty tense?” Del was caught off guard by Duff’s tone. Del knew she should have said something, stand up for Mags but she remained silent. Something was wrong, and Del didn’t want to add more fuel to the fire.

“Is everything...okay?” Del asked as Duff climbed off her and dug through his bag and handed her on of his shirts. She knew he wasn’t mad at her, but she still wanted to know why he was pissed.

“Yeah,” Duff’s one world answer irked Del, but she quickly brushed it off.

“Come one Duffles, you can tell me anything,” Del quickly got out of bed and walked over towards Duff. As the words escaped her lips, she laced her fingers into his shoulder length hair.

“Why don’t you go fuck yourself Axl!” Del dropped her hand from Duff’s hair and snapped her attention towards the kitchen. She couldn’t see a thing since the door was closed, but she recognized who the screaming was coming from.

Del turned back towards Duff to see a scowl had formed on his face. In attempt to lighten the mood, she said “Mags knows that there is probably a line of people who are waiting for Axl to go fuck himself.”

This earned a small smile from the blonde and Del quickly got dressed in Duff’s shirt he handed her.

“Duff, can I borrow some shorts too?”

Del froze as Duff's laughter filled the room.

“I love you Delly, but my shorts are going to be a little too big on you,” Duff teased back, earning a playful eye roll from the girl. He wasn’t wrong, Del looked like a twig compared to Duff.

She threw Duff’s shirt on and followed him out to some breakfast. Her stomach rumbled as the smell of a freshly cooked breakfast drowned her senses.

“Good morning lovebirds!” Slash bellowed as Duff guided a slowly moving Del into the kitchen.

Izzy and Slash shared knowing looks as they watched how slowly Del was walking. They were defiantly going to tease Duff about this later, once Del wasn’t in the room.

Duff and Del sat down at the table joining the rest of the band minus Axl. Del figures he was probably in his room either lying on his bed or drawing in attempt to calm himself down. She wished there was something she could do to help, but she wasn’t in the position to do that at the moment.

“Thanks, Izz! It smells amazing,” Del said as Izzy placed a plate of eggs in front of her.

“Hey! I’m the one who made it!” Laughter echoed through the tiny apartment as Duff spoke.

“It tastes delicious,” Del said before kissing him on the cheek.

Axl was the last to join the group. He almost froze as he sat down as he saw Del at the table. Her hair was a curly mess that framed her features perfectly. To Axl, she looked like an angel in his shirt that she was practically swimming in. He had forgotten that he gave that old shirt to Duff a month or so ago, and now after seeing Del wear it part of him wished he had kept it.

Feeling Axl’s stare, and immediately misinterpreting it why he was staring, Del quickly spoke, “Ohh...I can..I can eat in another room..if you guys want to have a band meeting. I can go eat with Mags..wherever she went off to.” Del began to look around left and right to see where her friend went.

“Mags left. She just stopped by to drop off some food,” Del knew that Mags didn’t leave by choice. By the tone in Steven’s voice she knew that Mags was kicked out.

“You’re not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me now..like it or not,” Duff whispered into Del’s ear earning a sweet smile to cross her lips.

——————-

“Come on Beth, we are almost there and then you can take the blindfold off,” Mark said as he guided the blindfolded girl through the church basement. His heart was racing a million miles per a minute, and he couldn’t believe he was going to finally do it. He was going to propose to her. He felt giddy, excited, and nervous all at the same time. He had finally found the right moment to propose to her.

“It smells amazing! Are you sure we are still in the church?” Beth asked as Mark guided her to sit down.

“Yes, and you can take off your blindfold,” Mark couldn’t help, but smile as Beth remained silent as she took in the room.

The first thing she noticed was that the room was illuminated by candles instead of the ugly yellow lights that traditional illuminated the room. The second was the rose petals on the floor. The third wwas photos taped to the wall.

“5,110 days….that’s how long I’ve known you. We met when we were 5 years old. I am going to be honest, but I don’t remember much from back them. This though….this memory I will always remember,” Mark pointed at the first picture that he had tape in the wall only a few hours ago.

Beth let out a giggle as she stared at the photo. It was of Beth and Mark covered in flour. Their smiles were large as they posed for a photo which Beth assumes Mark’s mother took the photo since from what she remembered her own mother wasn’t to pleased with the situation at the time.

“It was in the middle of a small bible study, and we were being read from one of those children’s bibles with the large colorful photos. You wanted some cookies for a snack and after begging…..” Beth began to say.

“I didn’t beg!” Mark playfully shot back.

“No you begged because I remember Delilah teased you for a month about it!” Mark shook his head trying to hide his giggle at Beth’s comment, but she was right.

“Anyway, after you harassed the poor book reader he finally said you could go and grab some cookies from the kitchen, but you couldn’t go alone so I had to go with you. Anyway we ended up in the kitchen, but there were no cookies. So we decided to make some….and….” Beth couldn’t contain her laughter as the memories of how poorly their cooking went filled her head.

“I was grounded for a week,” Mark added smirking.

“A week? I was grounded for two months! Delilah and I couldn’t play because of it,” Beth playfully hit him as he spoke.

“I’m assuming I follow the rose petals?” Beth asked as she followed the rose petals towards the next photo. She smiled at the thought of celebrating her four month anniversary with Mark looking through old photos.

Mark nodded and they walked down the rose petal path looking at photos that ranged from their first day at school to after school activities.

“I still think you look good it Delilah’s hot pink tutu,” Beth said as they looked upon a picture taken from one of the talent shows.

“I think my rendition of the sugar plum fairy gave her cute little dance a run for its money,” Mark smiled as Beth’s laughter filled the room. They were just 12 years old when that photo was taken, and even back then he wore the tutu and jokingly danced around like a fool to make Beth laugh.

“Which one is your favorite?” Beth asked as they walked in front of the 12th photo.

“The last one,” Mark smiled as he purposely focused on the picture. If he looked at her he would cry because the last one was going to be a special memory.

“And which one is that?”

“You’ll have to wait and see,” Mark sneakily replied earning an eye roll from Beth.

The next photo was from their eight grade graduation. Beth, Delilah, Mark, and Matt were posing in front of the church holding their little diplomas in the air with the pride of a college graduates who had just earned their doctorates in advanced medicine.

“Do you remember how much of a fuss you were making because the cap flattened you hair,” Beth smiled as she pointed at the picture.

“Do you know how many photos my mother took that day? My brothers would still be making fun of me if I looked bad in those photos!”

“Ohh Mark...they make fun of you anyway,” Beth teased before she headed towards the next photo. It was from Halloween when they were 15.

“Do you remember when Delilah was told she couldn’t be Tinker Bell because Tinker Bell was inappropriate?” Beth asked as she looked at the photo.

“If I remember right it was because Tinkerbell promotes sin because she was a needy attention hog or something like that?”

“And how Delilah was so busy complaining that she forgot to tell her mother what she actually wanted to be for Halloween, so she went as a princess,” Mark couldn’t help but laugh at the memory of Delilah.

“Then Matt kept telling people she was the princess from the princess and the pea. How would warm the people who handed out candy that Delilah was cranky because she didn’t get a lot of sleep the night prior because of a pea under her mattress,” Mark and Beth’s laughter once again filled the room before heading onto the next photo.

After 20 more minutes of reminiscing on other photos, Mark guided Beth towards a room filled with even more flower petals and a candle. Beth smiled as the smell of roses engulfed the room. The small room had a table and some tables and chairs pushed against the walls with a large mirror in the center. Beth could tell that he tried to hide what the room actually was, but she recognized it. This is the room where Matt, Mark, Delilah, and her would hang out every day.

“Mark, I know you didn’t intend for this to be creepy, but I’m getting horror movie vibes,” Beth half joked as she looked around the room.

“Where is the photo?” Beth added while continuing to look around the room.

“Come,” he held both of Beth’s hands and stood in front of the mirror. Beth was hesitant, but let him guide her out of curiosity.

“Beth, from the moment I met you I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my days with you. Whether it was getting in trouble for attempting to make cookies or just spending time with you on that ugly floral couch, I love spending every moment with you. I feel like I can be my true self when I’m with you,” Mark felt the nerves come back as he spoke.

“I love you too,” Beth smiled as she squeezed his hands tight.

“Beth Marie Jacob,” Beth gasped as she watched him get down on one knee.

“This afternoon we reminisced over some of my favorite memories for every year I have known you,” Mark pauses as he watched tears of happiness slowly flow down Beth’s face.

“Will you make one more memory with me tonight?” Mark pulled out the small box he had kept in his pocket for the past month.

“Will you Beth Marie Jacob marry me?” Mark’s heart stopped as the words escaped his lips. A sliver of fear slipped into his thoughts that she would laugh at him or say no.

“Yes! Ohh God yes, I love you,” The tears now began to stream down her face as Mark put the ring on her finger, and kissed her.

“I love you too!” Mark spun her around causing her to fill the room with her giggles and screams of joy.

Once they let go of each other they turned and stared into the mirror.

“I think this is my favorite memory too,” Beth smiled as she continued to look at her and Mark.

Mark watched as a frown quickly formed on her face.

“What?” Mark pulled Beth in close attempting to comfort her.

“I just...I wish Delilah was here to share this memory with us,” Beth spoke no louder than a whisper.

In that moment, Mark kissed Beth’s forehead and made up his mind. He was going to go to Sunset Strip and bring Delilah home, no matter what.

[emmy-dekarios-bg3]

Heart of the Weave - A Baldurs Gate fanfiction

CHAPTER 18

Shadowheart and I are gardening while Jenevelle naps peacefully in her rocker, basking in the tears of the sunlight. I smile at her, though I am wishing we could have a different outcome from this situation. I am happy that I’ll always be around for her. Tara flies outside where we are and grabs our full basket of freshly picked fruits and veggies.

“I’ll just go ahead and take this inside for you. Oh, Gale is about to walk through the door. If you need any help at all convincing him to become an immortal, as long as he isn’t a God, I’m with you all the way,” she says. I’m so thankful for the wonderful delight of a tressym that is Tara. Just moments after she speaks those words out loud, Gale opens the door leading to the garden, a smile lighting up his handsome face. He approaches me and plants a kiss on my lips delicately, once again lighting up a spark within me that will never die.

“Hello my love, I hope your day was as wonderful as you are,” he rejoices as I embrace him.

“You’re going to make me blush,” I tease, burying my face in his suede crimson wizard robe.

“Judging by how you’re hiding your face, it’s safe to assume I already did.”

“To answer your question, we had a fantastic day. Jenevelle is just now waking from a slumber, a lot of her sleep being in the sun. Don’t worry, she’s been in shade too.” He chuckles and admires our little girl who is stretching as she wakes up. She seems more than content.

“Well, she appears to have enjoyed it. She may get too accustomed to wearing just a diaper, so I’d be careful. I’m glad you all had a great day.” I chuckle, reaching down to pick up Jenevelle and hold her in my arms; she notices Gale and a smile grows upon her face immediately. Her pale skin glistens under the sun, and I notice a slight red tint within her thick brown hair.

“How was your day at Blackstaff?” I ask. His smile has yet to fade from his face.

“Despite my exhaustion due to unusual dreams last night and not getting enough sleep, it was great. Students are now out for the summer, so I’ll be home with both of you until I have to go back in a few months. However, once I go back, I’ll need to teach six hour days again.” Shadowheart clears her throat and steps in, as if she has some important information to spew out.

“Say, Emmy, don’t you have something to ask Gale?” Oh Gods, he is going to be so pedantic about this whole predicament. Why must she have brought this up right now? In a peaceful moment in the middle of our exquisite garden? Gale slightly cocks his head, waiting for me to chime in. A heavy sigh escapes my breath, though unintentional.

“So…the best solution to deal with this whole…devil situation…is to not only sell Jenevelle’s soul, but we sacrifice ours as well.” Nervousness trembles within me, though I don’t know why. He looks puzzled and not exactly thrilled in any way, which is about the reaction I originally expected.

“Hm, care to explain why?” Shadowheart and I look at each other nervously, but I suck it up. Surely he will agree with me on this unusual ordeal we never pictured ourselves being in.

“Well, if we do it, Jenevelle won’t have to live without us. We’ll all be immortal.”

“Uhm….” Gale hesitates for a moment, then sighs, realizing I’m right. “That is a huge deal. But I’m not opposed, it’s just that I’ll have to pledge away from Mystra. I just have to hope it’s easier done than said.”

“Is that all you would have to do?” He stares at our daughter, half-smiling as she coos and admires the natural environment around us.

“If it’s our only option. I say we try to bargain again somehow and if we can’t, well… It’s better Jenevelle is alive, immortal, and under our care rather than a more horrific outcome.” His voice is somehow full of solace, though I expected a much worse reaction from him. I take a deep breath as I close my eyes, trying to release the tension trapped within me. I feel his hand touch my cheek gently.

“Hey,” he murmurs, “open your eyes.” I open them up once more, noticing a worriless smile on his face, so full of life and certainty. “There’s my baby. I promise it’s going to be alright.”

“I know this situation isn’t ideal. I hate it. I hate everything about it,” I mutter, yet feeling better after letting it all out. “I can’t lose Jenevelle.”

“I understand. It’s a lot for us to process. The thought of her unable to grow up and experience what this life has to offer, well… That’ll take a toll on us.” Jenevelle continues to coo, spitting little bubbles as she’s graciously enjoying life in the moment. Shadowheart comes in for a hug and it lasts for a solid minute; she can sense the disgust I feel toward the situation and those bloody devils. I smile, feeling a sense of relief from just her being here.

“Thank you for having me over. I’m sorry this is happening, but I promise it will be alright. If anyone knows about deals with the devils, it would be Wyll and Karlach. Might I suggest you meet with them as soon as possible? It might help give some clarity of some sort,” Shadowheart suggests. “Astarion and I have to go meet up with some people today about the adoption process. I’ll come by later.”

Shadowheart is right. We need to be in touch with Karlach and Wyll before we move forward with this deal, though I have a strong feeling they will basically tell us “there’s nothing you can do.” I hold Jenevelle close to my chest, cherishing every second I have with her in this very moment.

“Oh, how I love you little darling,” I whisper, smiling at her wide-eyed face full of wonder and curiosity. She grips my finger with her tiny hand, staring at it in amusement. She then spots my wedding ring and finds it to be the most amazing item she’s ever seen; I can’t exactly disagree. Gale walks out of the washroom that’s connected to our bedroom and he appears to be very refreshed. I suppose all it took was hot water and getting cleaned up.

“Ah, much better.” He slips on his underwear and lies down next to me, where I have Jenevelle lying back on my perked-up knees. “I wanted to apologize for earlier. I feel like I snapped at you, and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

“No, not at all. You were concerned, as you should have been. We both were unsure of what to do. No need to apologize.” He curls up next to me and I can feel his warmth radiate from his flesh.

“Gods… I love you.” His voice is so tender in my ear, giving me chills across my body.

“I love you too. Very much.”

After well-needed snuggles on our comfortable bed, we head to the kitchen and dining area so I can get started on cooking dinner using the delicious fruits and veggies I got from the garden. Gale places Jenevelle on her baby rug in the living area so she can practice lifting her head up. I lay out the vegetables on the wooden cutting board and begin chopping onions for the delicious chili I’m preparing. As I chop them, I smile at Gale and Jenevelle, watching as the baby is kicking her legs ecstatically. At that very moment, I have some sort of vision – or flashback, I suppose – of being trapped in the Hells with Raphael. I’m envisioning my hands bound by the soul chains, screaming as I feel the heat of the flames outside my chamber. I can basically feel the cold, fatal nails that felt like blades against my pregnant stomach, silently threatening me. I remember the horror I felt build up inside me as I pleaded for mercy. The rage. The instinct I knew I was going to die or become his toy. This random vision I’m having is so real, I can feel drops of sweat pouring down my face. Luckily, Tara flies by and sits on my head, causing me to snap out of it. What the fuck.

“Whoa, miss ma’am, did I startle you?” she questions, staring at me in bewilderment. Gale turns to look at me after Tara points out my little jump from being spooked. I nervously laugh to make it seem like I thought it was funny.

“No, no. I’m okay. You know me, Tara, I’m always jumpy.”

“True! I’ve scared you every day since the day we’ve met. Shoot, I’ve scared you more times than the number of toe beans I have on my paws. Unintentionally, of course.” Gale laughs at the accuracy, knowing damn well that he’s also scared me a few times.

Tomorrow we plan on reaching out to Karlach and Wyll to see what they propose about the whole devil situation. Seeing as they both have experience in that department, we figured it would be best.

{check out my entire fanfic here 👇🏻}

[gwoongi]

𝗆𝗈𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 ☽ jeongguk

𝗆𝗈𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 jeon jeongguk / reader genre: boyfriend/band-geek au, fluff words: 3455

I never knew you could hold moonlight in your hands.

a/n: i luv this song and this is soft. also i rlly cant stop writing guk fics so i guess im a guk fic writer now

warnings: fluff, clichés i love, it’s like glee if u squint and think about it hard enough, fresh new awkward relationships, raise ur hand if you’ve watched whip it (san marcos high school, i know nothing about you besides the fact i wrote this story listening to caricakes on youtube talking about how she went to this school)

Falling in love was a scary thing.

With people, that means. There was something about love when attached to another person that was unbelievably unnerving, and it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that your parents were divorced and at least one person in your family had been cheated on, thank you very much! The pressure of ultimate commitment and trust was something you just couldn’t wrap your head around; what if you gave all of that love to somebody who’d throw it all away overnight?

When people told you that you only thought that way because you were young, barely fourteen and watching your friends get into those week-long romantic relationships over fruit loops and milk cartons at break time, you insisted that no, you knew best. You knew what love was like. Love was the way your parents had fought most of your childhood, screamed, cussed, broke some things. Love was finding out the person you gave everything to suddenly didn’t want it anymore.

Eventually, you grew up and realised that life was better and happier now that your mother had moved across the country with somebody else, and your Dad was finding love in his new job and learning how to play the guitar. Life was no longer a slash horror film, but instead the colourful opening of a Disney movie, the birds singing- and hey, maybe love wasn’t so bad. Love wasn’t just what you experienced with a partner, you discovered as you transferred to high school and found that something in your chest hurt when you joined band and made some of the best friendships you had ever had. Love was open and opportunable, unpredictable and beyond kisses and hugs and hearts floating around your temples.

Love was the way you heard piano keys, or the sound of Taehyung and Seunghee laughing as you entered the band-rooms during every free period you could possibly find. Love was the guitar strings between Seunghee’s fingers, and the evenings around the campfire behind your house with the aforementioned duo and your father and his older stringed instrument, corny songs shared over the tamed embers. Aged seventeen, now, and still in love with music and the people in your life in the San Marcos High School Band Club, you didn’t think you’d be able to share that love with anything- or anybody- else. Until you met Jeongguk.

A key member of the school’s baseball team and a surprisingly excellent singer, Jeongguk was the type of person you saw in movies, the type of student everybody loved but didn’t touch. That had intimidated and confused you, when he strode into band club on a Tuesday evening after-school and spoke with the lead teacher Mrs Honey, who announced that Jeongguk and a small handful of other, daresay “jocks”, would be joining the club for extra credit. You had stood there, appalled, in your shirt decorated in tiny crescent moons, afraid of the love you had for this club being destroyed by a bunch of sport-happy popular kids.

That was an incorrect judgement that you came to regret; Jimin was an angel dressed as a devil, with a love for the sound of flutes and clarinets and apparently, a new close friend of both Seunghee and Taehyung, respective woodwind players. And then there was the situation of Jeon Jeongguk, who caught your eye across the room a few days later, standing behind the group of new friends with an air of awkward discomfort- he had smiled softly, his eyes drooping with a gentle gaze and he had asked for your name and your instrument.

The first time your heart fluttered for something other than music, it was when Jeongguk called out to you as he left to go home and smiled around the words, “Catch you later, moony.”

Two months later, and Seunghee, Taehyung and Jimin had banded together to form an interesting trio, inseparable save the baseball field where Jimin spent Monday, Thursday and Saturday evenings. It genuinely hadn’t bothered you the way you had expected it to, not when Jeongguk was there to fill the space vacant once they had left. It was still intimidating to know him, be his friend, be the weirdo he hung around with sometimes both inside band club and out. 

At first, you hadn’t expected it to last- he was only here for extra credit, and it wasn’t like he actually cared about the club or you, and the way he stared at you with a soft fondness when you talked about your Dad and what you did the night prior was definitely part of your imagination, right? To your absolute surprise and honestly, relief, you had returned to band after a short break from school, expecting to find that those same jocks had now left but instead they were still there, waiting for the rest, part of the club with pride. And, there was Jeongguk again, with that smile that made your stomach do funny things.

Over here, Moony, he had said, patting the seat beside him. Once seated, he had shifted to stare at you and grinned softly, pulling a little strand of hair from your face and tucking it behind your ear. It’s okay, he said, you’re allowed to be surprised to see me. You’re too cute when you’re trying to pretend like you don’t care. I like your hair, by the way.

So, yeah. It was no surprise that one month after that date, Jeongguk had pushed himself up against your locker at the end of the day and smiled at you, saying something you had both dreaded and dreamed of: “Do you wanna go out sometime?”

Love was still scary, even two months into your relationship with Jeongguk. He was unlike anything and anybody you had ever met before; when you arrived at school everyday, he was always with his usual group of popular friends, girls with expensive hairdos and painted nails and guys with nice cars and bodies. But as soon as he spotted you hopping out of your Dad’s car, his eyes would light up and he’d pull himself away from his friends, bounding to you within seconds of you standing on your own two feet next to your Dad’s pulled up car.

He’d smile and press little kisses to your hair and the side of your face, holding you from behind, looking up to say good morning to your Dad, who, as he pulled away heading for work, couldn’t be happier at the revelation that you were happy, and that love now didn’t mean what it had before. It was more than arguments and anger. Love was Jeongguk and music and your friends with more Jeongguk on the side.

Sure, people would question why he’d pick you over everyone else, because truth be told, there was nothing special about you, or at least not to them. But to Jeongguk, you were the girl who talked about music like a lover, and treated the world kindly and fairly. To him, you were everything, and more.

“I can’t believe you’ve never seen Whip It before.”

Presently, Jeongguk sits on your bed pushed against the wall with an adoring smile on his face, a laugh leaving his mouth as you hastily pop open the DVD case and thrust it into the player.

“I haven’t seen a lot of movies,” Jeongguk replies, leaning back to find comfort underneath your blankets.

It was a Friday evening, the sky outside bleeding out into vibrant pinks and deep purples, like bruises, nighttime approaching. Today would be the first time Jeongguk has ever been allowed to stay around your house overnight; your Dad liked Jeongguk, and thought he was what you needed and deserved, but he’s still a Dad, and he was hesitant. Eventually, after growing bored of the begging and hints, he just said yes to keep you quiet, sternly telling you that any ‘funny business’ would be heard through the walls and so, please, don’t do that. You didn’t think you were quite there yet with Jeongguk, and he had never shown an interest in it. Sure, Jeongguk would get touchy, risking a hand on your thigh or playfully holding your butt in a Sixteen Candles-esque fashion, and when you came to see him at games, his friends would definitely allude to it with sexual whimpers that were supposed to be you.

“Well, that will change!” you announce with glee, jumping back next to him. 

He doesn’t even wince when you accidentally kneel on his hand, instead he just moves his arm to wrap around you as you get comfortable next to him. Under the covers, he feels your toes brush against his legs and in his face, the marshmallow smell of your shampoo. Jeongguk smiles to himself and presses his face into your hair and kisses your forehead afterwards, a cheek squished against the top of your head. In one hand, he holds the remote and in the other, strands of your hair you let him twirl around his fingers as he watches.

“You will love this movie.”

He smiles wider: “Oh, yeah?”

“Mhm. It’s cool,” you nod against his side. “You know, actually, the feeling- you know the feeling you get watching a movie, when it’s so good and it makes you feel all funny and sentimental? It actually...it actually kinda reminds me of you.”

“What, really?” Jeongguk asks, sounding flattered and surprised. You shift up to look at him and he grins widely, quickly leaning to kiss you. “You’re so cute, baby. I’m sure I will love this movie.”

As the movie opening rolled onto the screen, Jeongguk sat still to allow you time and space to wriggle into his body, getting comfortable around limbs and the soft wool of his jumper that you had worn a couple of times. 

This concept isn’t entirely foreign; he’s watched at least thirty movies with you since your first “date”, which had consisted of a cinema date due to his uncharacteristic nerves to talk to you. A tradition born from A Star is Born, which, actually, Jeongguk thought would be a happy movie, thanks, not the monstrosity that made you both cry in the cinema lobby, through laughter and a sweet hug on the sofas waiting for your Dad to pick you both up.

Jeongguk knows this movie- he hasn’t seen it, but he knows it; he knows Ellen Page is part of a roller-derby club and he also knows that you know it word-for-word, a content smile spreading over your lips as it begins to kick in. That’s one thing he loves about watching movies with you. Not the movie, but the way you’re enchanted by them- a smile for ones you love, a scowl for ones you end up hating, tears pooling in your eyes at ones that are funny or so bad that they become funny. 

He doesn’t know how long he’s looking at you and not the movie, because when he looks at you, time stops. In your hair, his finger gets lost in the strands and eventually unloops itself, his hand stroking instead before falling to your shoulder, his fingers ghosting down your arms and body up and down, absently as he pretends to watch the movie when you glance at him from the corner of your eye.

Like clockwork, he does this, living life in gasps as he looks at you and then back at the screen. As he sighs softly, Jeongguk pauses as you sit yourself up and look back at him, a frown on your face. He sobers, looking at you with concern: “What’s up, baby?”

“Are you watching the movie?” you ask quietly. “If it’s boring, just tell me.”

“It’s not boring,” he promises shaking his head. “I’m watching it.”

“Doesn’t look like you’re watching it.”

He smiles, “Well, right now, neither are you. I am watching, I swear. Look- Ellen Page is in a roller derby club.”

Actually amused, you laugh. “You were absolutely not watching.”

“I was.”

“She hasn’t joined the club yet,” you point out. When he stays silent, you look at him with a half-triumphant and half-amused smile. “You’re such a bad liar.”

“Okay, it’s not boring,” Jeongguk says honestly. “I just-ugh, you’re so cute. I love all of your reactions- I can’t stop looking at you.”

With some reluctance you sink back down next to him, looking at him through your eyelashes: “really?”

“Baby, yes,” he laughs. Jeongguk pulls you closer with the arm you lay back down on, his other free and brushing bits of your hair off your face before holding the side of it gently, a thumb on your cheekbone. “You’re so pretty. Makes me sick.”

“I really wanted you to watch this movie…”

“M’sorry,” he mutters through pouted lips. Somehow, somewhere, Jeongguk has moved forward with his nose brushing against yours. He sighs through his nose and it tickles, “just like looking at you.”

Jimmy Fallon announces the Holy Rollers as Jeongguk guides your lips towards his, the grand entree of the rival team missed and unnoticed and surprisingly, you don’t care. He has his hands in your hair and his head in your hands, and as he deepens the kiss you wrap your arms around his body, trying to get closer when there was no way to get closer. For a moment, the sound of the TV falls silent and all Jeongguk can focus on is you, the only thing that ever matters to him.

Jeongguk pulls away briefly, catching his breath and helping pull you up to a sitting position, level to himself. The movie continues to play, the pictures like a silent movie as Jeongguk returns to kissing you, not even feeling guilty about interrupting a movie date with the impromptu make-out session. Quite frankly, it’s not as if you seem to care; you cling to him, desperate, his body flush against your own.

What Jeongguk doesn’t say with words is more than conveyed through his movements. He is the perfect mixture between gentle and pleading, his touches like the tickle of feathers. If you were to open your eyes, you’d find his closed, eyelashes on his cheekbones. Jeongguk shifts himself, rising so that he is taller in comparison as he tilts your head upwards, lips still on his own. It’s hard to breathe in the feeling of Jeongguk’s lips moving roughly across your own, his hands cradling your face around your jaw, thumbs smoothing crescent moons into your skin.

Jeongguk’s lips move away. His hands run from your face to your shoulders, making you shudder like a draught entered the room when he drags them down to your wrists, detaching to hold your waist. Your heart speeds up suddenly-is this going to take a turn?

As his hands slightly lock around you, you pry open one eye, looking at him. His eyes are still closed, lost in orbit, and his lips are puckered and large, shiny, wet. Something alien festers inside of your stomach, churning painfully, like tiny kisses on the inside, ticklish. You trust Jeongguk, with everything, and so you inhale through your nose and close your eyes once again, clutching at his face with your hands as he presses his lips tighter, begging for more.

Jeongguk’s left hand slips, brushing against your thigh and you wince with happy surprise, having not expected it. Jeongguk laughs slightly, amused and with adoration, his lips now on the curve of your neck. Finally, like release, you limpen and let your body fall back onto the bed, your head missing the headboard by a few centimeters and now, Jeongguk is above you. Right before your first sign of arousal can be ripped from your throat by Jeongguk’s lips ghosting over what you think could be a sensitive spot, Jeongguk shifts away. He leans over you still, but he’s not moving, breathing heavily. 

Confused, torn on whether or not to be concerned, you open your eyes and look at him, seeing with surprise that his gaze is on you, anyway. He smiles when you open your eyes, cocking his head to the side boyishly and with one hand holding up his weight, he uses the other to brush some hair out of your face. Jeongguk kisses your forehead. Then he moves away.

For a moment, you’re not sure what to do.

You lie there, like a slice of ham. Jeongguk is normal, pushing himself back onto his ass to sit comfortably on the bed, both of his hands settled on your legs and he sighs, as if content. Pushing yourself up on your elbows, Jeongguk looks over with the shift of the bed and a frown settles on his brows, seeing the expression on your face.

“What’s up, babe?” he asks suddenly.

“I - Nothing,” you insist, not knowing what to say. It feels awkward. You tug at your sleeves. “It’s just.” Nothing.

Jeongguk moves forward slightly. “What happened? Did...did I do something?”

You bite the inside of your lip. “No. I mean, I don’t know - ugh, it’s just…” Jeongguk keeps his eyes on you, round and like bunny rabbits’. You sigh, it’s time to get the baggage out of the closet. “I don’t know, I just thought maybe we were doing something and then we weren’t doing anything and I just feel like...I don’t know. Maybe you don’t want me like that?”

Jeongguk’s brows crease. “Like…? Like, what, you don’t think I want to do anything with you? Like sex?”

By now, you’re embarrassed, like you’re five and the “s” word is still something you’re not allowed to say.

“It’s stupid,” you reply. “Forget it.”

“No, no, no,” Jeongguk protests, shaking his head and engulfing your hands with his own. “Baby...no. Look-” he sighs nervously, smiling. In fact, the exhale sounds shaky, breathless. “I want to. I do! Just, not now.”

Your heart thuds with the pause of silence.

“Trust me, I wanna do everything I can with you, but why rush it?” he shrugs. “You’re everything to me, everything and more. It’ll happen when it happens. Yeah?”

You nod with some reluctance. It makes sense, inside you’re actually buzzing with happiness. “Yeah.”

“Also, your Dad’s home. If we can hear him down there, he can hear us,” adds Jeongguk, followed by an overly dramatic shudder for effect. It works- you smile, a laugh rippling out afterwards and Jeongguk smiles too. “Ah,” he exhales, rubbing your arms now that you’re sitting up in his lap, “silly baby.”

“Shut up,” you mumble. “I was just...insecure, I guess.”

“I get that,” he nods. “Don’t need to be, though. I lo...like you anyway.” He strokes the side of your face, smiling, and then presses a fleeting kiss to your nose. A laugh rumbles in his throat when you scrunch your nose up. “Even when you get insecure, and even when you yell at me in band and when you refuse to sit by me at lunch. I still like you so, so, so much.”

“I don’t yell that much,” you protest weakly.

“I know.” Jeongguk pulls you in for a hug, a kiss planted on top of your head. “You’re the best there is. Love that about you.”

He doesn’t say he loves you. It’s there, unspoken, never said. It’s there, though. There for next time.

(“No funny business?”

Jeongguk holds you tightly to his chest, his legs up and entangled with your limbs as your Dad stands by the door. Half of his body is in and the other is out, a hand on the doorframe. The lights are off except for the string of lights around the room on their dullest setting, the television off with the red light on standby, and to your Dad, everything looks fine.

“No, sir,” Jeongguk replies quietly.

Your Dad takes a second to look between Jeongguk and yourself. If he doesn’t believe Jeongguk he doesn’t make it obvious, something Jeongguk is grateful for considering how unbelievably nervous he is underneath the blankets. You’re asleep on his lap, your face against his chest, and of course, your Dad isn’t about to yell loudly to wake you up. Instead, he accepts the given truth and sighs, smiling.

“Okay, then. You’re a good kid, Jeongguk,” he says, after thinking long and hard about what to say when he climbed the stairs to go to bed. “You’re good for her.”

Jeongguk’s heart leaps, thuddering. “Thank-you. She’s everything.”

“Yeah,” your Dad agrees. “Yeah, she is.”

Nothing is said for a little while and your Dad stills when Jeongguk peers down at you. Something familiar about this scene. Your Dad looks away.

“Goodnight, sport,” your Dad says quietly, pulling the door to as he leaves. He doesn’t hear Jeongguk reply, but he knows he does. That’s just the kind of kid Jeongguk is. He knows.)

[charmed-asylum]

👨‍🍳# FOODIE👨‍🍳

#Foodie, Part 1 

Summary: Something happening in Easter Hills. Something that effecting everyone under the surface. Could this just be a phase a trick that no one can shack off? Is this something that will pass with another or can we all be heading for destruction

Declaimer: #Foodie has some curse words, use and mention of drugs, and roadkill. Also, I do have dyslexia so be easy with me!!! 

A/N:So who would think after doing a love story I go be switching it up to some sci-fi. Let me know what you think or want to be added to the taglist. Or simple to sit my butt down and stop with the dramatics xoxo Tia

Word Count: 6,336

MASTER LIST 

Tagged: @linkispink1995​ @weapinggwillowss​ @strangerfictions​

I wish I could remember what it was. Could it be the color of the sky, how tall the grass starts to grow in Mr. Jackson ranch-style house across the street, or maybe it was the air? The way the breeze would flow dance across the sky. I wish I can tell you. Even now even after so many months that have passed, I don't remember. One thing I do know is it started Columbus Day weekend. It was it at once and maybe that why no one realizes it till it was too late. I wish I was stronger maybe I could have done something. Then again who am I kidding?

The seasons have changed but I could still remember the rush I felt when I pelted my way down my street cracked concerted road. I did not have much control in my life but bike rides were all mine. Tomorrow was finally gonna be the day I been waiting for months for. He was finally coming back to me. As I turn into the parking lot of Easter Hills High it was already a full parking lot. The next song started to play when I saw a familiar face across the parking lot surrounded by a group of posters and zombies. Have you ever thought about your soul - can it be saved? 

Or perhaps you think that when you're dead you just stay in your grave. I was still playing when tossing over my beat-up backpack over a shoulder.

" What you barbie slut" voice that belongs to the center of the crowd's attention.

Janet was a type of girl that was born pretty and perfect. I always wonder how we became friends. She tells me it is because the sun always needs the moon and stars. I tell her I am nothing but a black hole. There was a time was little I thought maybe there was more to that but after a kiss under the stars, I was lost with the dyer fear of losing her. So we just became what we are now the infinite duo. Her red ginger hair dance with the cool Midwestern breeze as her Mona Lisa's lips playfully move with each word drew more and more people closer and closer. 

" Space cadet stuck in orbit again huh" Janet said with her hand on her hip. I smiled with crimson color coming across my cheeks as I close the gap between us too. 

"Sorry. Just nerves. Can we talk before homeroom J" I asked not paying anyone around us any attention. I already knew what the whispers were about the same thing it always is why. She crocks her pear shape face to the side and her hazel eyes stare into my brown ones. That was another thing we just got each other. She was the fun bi sexual goddesses I was just me the girl who happens to have gotten lucky. 

Without a word, she licks her lips then places two fingers in her mouth to make a V and whistle for her things which a freshman was holding her. After a simple wink and kiss on the cheek to that freshman, she walks off with us being hand and hand to our spot. 

I look around before sitting on the swing and watch as she pops a few of her mom Dextromethorphan like it was a mint. With a big smile, she jumps onto the swing and kick back her feet and smiled. I wish I was like her ability to be free able to kick back and not care but I never was given that ability given that chance. Her long hair moves with her back and forth as she sings Katy Perry off-key. 

" Thank I, huh I been thinking. I think I'm ready to you know with KP" I blur out with my hands cling to the chains for my life. My eyes close shut till I was seeing rainbow loading wheels across my eyes sight. SLAP " What the hill billy hell. That hurt" I said opening my eyes wide and rub my thigh. Janet shook her head and look like me I had 101 heads attach to my head.

" Issac. Are you shitting me right now" Janet said now standing in front of me. Her hazel eyes twinkle with the sun. 

I slowly roll my bottom lip thought my teeth a few times before I look up at her like a kid who had her hand in the cookie jar with chocolate all over my face. She got closer and stop me so I have to look at her. I hated how she gets me to talk when I was not ready to. I dazed out to pass her to the tall grass that sways with the wind. Right before that was a raccoon who has been a sacrifice to the roadkill gods. 

" Yes. We have been together for three half years and I'm gonna be 18 in a few months. I don't want to lose him. I mean he already talks about marriage and stuff. How we are meant to be with one another. Him in the war what if he does not make it. Next time. I am just thinking about it. I never do anything. Janet Florence Bates. Either I am too chicken scraps about it or I can die. I am so sick of living out in this world in a bubble" I said finally looking to those Friday afternoon hazel eyes.

She nods and took my hands. Rubbing her white french tip thumb against my skin she brought it up to her heart. " One thing I wish I did was to wait. Remember when we were in seventh grade and I dared to do seven minutes in heaven with Derek Miller. You told me that I was still worth the universe no matter what. Do-" She was cut off with the sound of the second bell. " Shit I need to see Popi before class. Tell them I am using the bathroom and oh it that time of the month" Janet said over her shoulder as she ran over to find her girlfriend. 

" I said that last week J" I shout out.

Walking backward Janet thought about it, " He doesn't know how a woman body works". I laugh as I made my way down the busy streets also know as the hallways.

I just made it with a second to spare. Taking a deep breath in I nod to the teacher went to my seat. Putting my backpack on the desk to make a pillow I lean my head on it and look out the window. The once busy parking lot was empty with no one. Corner of my eyes I saw some movement. For a second look like I saw a squirrel eating the dead raccoon. Its fur was cover in a bit blood on its paws and tail. Getting up from I walk over to the window. Still watching the squirrel. 

" MISS. SMITH. SIT DOWN FOR ANNOUNCEMENTS" the teacher said taking her out her trance. Giggles and fingers were pointing as I look around. mouth sorry and ease back into my seat look down at my hands. Moments later Janet rush in with a huge smile on her face, She stays upfront to flirt with the teacher taking his glasses and rolling it in her mouth as she explains the female privates. Buzz Buzz.

Mi Amor: Hav fun in school. I see you tomorrow bae. IYL

 I look up and suppressed a greedy smile.

 Me: Can not wait. xxx.

I smiled and glance outside. The squirrel was gone but so was most of the raccoon. My curl drop in front of my face. My eyes wide as I look around it was not even ten minutes how did that happen. It is only your mind. After trying to calm my nerves I settle and got ready for the day. The thing about going to school in a dead zone is not much happening each day is the same. The coolest thing we had to happen was when Sally Maxfield got fifth place in the nearby town beauty competition. We were the one place the devil probably send folks as a line of torture. Everyone knew each other and marries one another. Grow old have kids work the same jobs your parents or neighbor had. Just so happen my parents two of the coolest jobs. Mother was assistant to the mayor and my dad work as a scientist that was a station out here. They move here when they got married I still do not get that. Nose deep in my latest novel off my four pages list. I felt a few pokes on my back. 

" Guess what I heard from Paul in six periods of American History. Looks like the old hag bit the dusk and they just found her body this morning. Guess what with just her body and her 20 cats. God Issac if I end up anywhere close to that kill me" Janet said pulling out her lunch, sushi, and flavor water.

" Lunch looks smaller than last week. Another diet J. I do not know why you do that your perfect" I said pulling out my lunch with a sigh. Janet peak over at me and my silver can lunch box cover in bumper stickers. Janet rolls her eyes and sips her cool water. I took out my lunch: a bottle of filter water, steal tight thing of organic crackers, dried up fruits, and a mystery meal ( as my mom called it). She stops mid-chew and looks at me with doubt and wonder. 

" What that" Janet said looking over my lunch. Apart from I wanted to chuckle each day the same thing. Sipping my water I turn to look at her. My legs shielding hers

"It is my lunch crackers fruit. Want some" I said holding out the mystery meal packet 

" Wait for a second that fruit. I do not get you. I come with my lunch and you have that. Still, you cover your eyes during the sex parts" Janet asked. My smile got bigger as I nod. Her face still in disbelief.

" Yes. Because I will like to live till my 18 birthday. J. Do not forget the ice cream birthday cake, spaghetti, banana nut bread, or many other times I chance it" I said turning back to the table Janet always got me to throw reasoning away.

" Just be careful that it looks like it will attack you alright. Space cadet" Janet said poking at my lunch to see if it moved. I wish to chance it was a luxury for me but never is, I will never be normal and for that, I am the envy of everyone. The problem goes down to the simple fact of an allergy I have a very rare very troublesome allergy, Eosinophilic Gastrointestinal Disorder. Long story short think of anything fun and add a 99% chance I can die of it. 

" God damn it. Did you hear me? The last two periods we going on some field trips to the Coast Forrest for science today" Janet said wiping her mouth. Nodding I look at my half-eaten lunch. "Popi gonna meet us there. She got these new drugs called Trippe that her hook up gave her. I talk her into allowing me to try it with her. Maybe get some others to buy some. It is organic you should try some" Janet said checking her makeup in her little compact mirror. I gentle took a deep breath out and move a few curls behind my ear as I tried to remind Janet again I can not do that. Then she must have seen my thoughts as she pointed to me with her lipstick and said, " It is organic. You eat all that weird shit. What to say that and Trippe are not made of the same shit" Janet said putting her stuff away.

I wanted to tell her no but instead, I said I think about it before she went off to get last night's homework from someone. I loved her with all my heart but sometimes she just did not get me. Crazy how you can love someone with all your heart. Not want anything from it just a simple notion that you will never be alone. Someone that will have your back and would never judge you. No one did but KP ever promises you that.

Mi Amor: I wish you are here. I feel so alone.

I waited a few more minutes for him to reply till I decide he probably was on the plane and could not reach me. Rubbing the back of my neck I close my eyes. God did I need sleep and a bubble bath. Noise rattle my nerves and the never-ending sound of people screaming made me flinched. Jumping up I look around before heading out to the bathroom to finish my lunch. Last year its been like this need want to escape want some time alone. Maybe its fact in a few months I will be graduating. I will be free to be me whatever that was. As my phone alarm ring, I slowly got up from my spot on the floor and got ready to head back before Janet realize I was gone. With my head hanging low I walk over to the sink to flush away any doubt of living any sadness I been feeling. water dripping from my face I look back at my reflection. Brown sugar eyes looking back with my hair full-blown curl thanks to the cold water. My button nose raw from the tears I just finished having. Taking another breath in I grab the end of my dress and rub my face.

The ride to Coast Forrest was roughly 15 minutes long. Janet was sitting next to Popi kissing like horny rabbits and I sat beside them by the window. Popi cool. She wears her hair short blonde with pink tips pixie cut with random drunken mistakes to remind her you only live once and a nose ring with a lip tattoo that said suck it. At first, she did like me worried I was trying to take Janet away till I reassure her what I and Janet have will always be a deep unbreakable friendship and I was happy with KP. Once I asked her if she can do a sharpie tattoo out of pure boredom she grew a flower crown on my wist. Which she now does every time she sees me. My arm the blanket canvas for her crazy thoughts. Colors change as I wave my hands up and down as if I was fish in the open water.

Coming out for air Janet smirk at me and whisper into Popi's ear. With a nod, Popi took out her bag and hand Janet something when no one but me was looking. 

" So I heard you might be adventuring out my young grasshopper. Finally going to get some action huh" Popi said sniffing her nose-wiping away the last bit of blow she did before getting on the bus. I peak over to Janet who just whistles and spoke to a random person behind us.

" Maybe. YOYO right" I said licking my bottom lip

" God Smith you something. So fucking cute. little puppet" Popi said pinching my arm. 

" Tell her about Trippe baby" Janet added.

" Thanks, angel. Huh, so what my guy told me this is some top-shelf shit. Like the best of the best only take. I am talking mob cartel you name it and its all made on some hippie compound. I am one of the first to have it" Popi pointed out proud of herself. She took one out and handed it to me.

" How do you take it. I never sniff anything before. Or put anything up my butt" I asked curiously.

Janet giggles at my response and hugs over to speak to me without anyone hearing us." From what Popi heard it pretty much either end type of drug but oral tends to work find. The away only thing we want poking you in the but is Kindred Phillip Richards thick long penis" Janet laugh.

It was small and look like something out a Candy land world. The packing was the neon pick with a smiley face with its tongue out and eyes cross out. As I play with it looking at it closer it had a strange symbol on it. Inside the little baggie was a pill shape drug with what looks to be a liquid power inside. While Popi was trying to talk a boy into a threesome with Janet and herself. I snatch a picture on my Polaroid camera and stuff it in my pocket. I look at it once more. It was inviting but apart of me was not sure. Kind of like it was a candy a treat. Last time I tried something Janet said it was alright. I end up in ICU for two months. Everything around her tone out as she kept playing with this drug in her hands. Very own mystery. What made this so special so welcoming. Bring it closer to my nose I let it linger see if I can figure what it was made off. I had a nose for such things. Lana Del Rey plays on my head as I play with it. It was organic maybe it was safe to do it. 

" We are here. I have to make a phone call. So just take a paper and start feeling it out" Mr. Lopez said. He was probably going to scream at his soon to be ex-wife who ran off with their younger babysitter last week.

Second, he left everything to reassure. Loud noises left and right. Booming. Popi look at me and took the drug out my hand and gave Janet the nod. Show Time. Janet gave both of use a wink before she swings herself up to stand on the seat Dead Poet Society style. Flipping her hair she screams HEY. Everyone's eyes shift to Janet quite waiting on her hand and foot. With a wolf grind, she grabs up the drug and tosses it up and down in the air.

" Alright shit brains and posers. I got here the upcoming stuff that every one that is hot now is doing. Actors athletes business people and even world leaders. This stuff here is told to make oxy look like a sugar-free candy. This stuff is fully organic and to give you a ride of your life. Once you have it once you never find anything to get you this fuck up ever again. Word around this Trippe would put you on a ride you will never forget So who wanna party" Janet said jumping down to the ground with her hands up above her head. I was the first to clap much sooner then I should of. Most look at me and I turn and look outside at Mr. Lopez on the verge of tears. Everyone was shouting not wanting to be left out wanting in on the mystery on the trend. As Popi passed it out Janet took the money stuffing it into her bra. Till everyone had one. All glee with excitement thrilled to do it.

" Hey, you ready" Janet asked. I look at her and went to grab some money taking out a twenty I slowly hand it to her. They all went to take it and as I am about to take it I stop and shoot up. My breathing got short and I clench to the seat trying to catch it. I felt tears as a minor panic attack was coming ahead. My sight got dizzy and I shock my head crying a silent cry. Janet stops before taking it and looks at me holding tight to my chest. 

" I can't I can not take it. I can not take the gamble. J I am so sorry. I wish I could" I said trying to stop the tears. People around me starting to go down on their trip. Some started to laugh like drunken hyenas, a few spaces out like a psychic patient drop on drugs, some were paranoid with a flinch and rest was a mixture of emotions. I slowly got my things together and try to head for the door. An arm stops me and pushes me back down.

" Where are you going. Come on. Amaryllis. It alright. Just do it" Janet said shoving it into my face. I shook my head no and push it away. I look around everything was spinning. 

" I can not do that. You know I can die Janet " I plead to her. She shook her head and rolled her eyes. Walking back to Popi she said something to her as I stood still rubbing my arm looking at the ground. 

"You are full of bullshit. Issac. Why is it one second your talking about fucking your boyfriend and next to your acting like a little kid? Is this thing you have any real or is it all fake just like you"Janet hissed. I knew she was already high from whatever she was doing but the words still hurt. It made everything hurt ten times more.

Without speaking I shook my head and left the bus. I had to get as far as I could before the tears came down. I tried KP once again but no answer. I don't know how far I was got before I finally stop. Green was cover everywhere like a sea of green. I slowly drop to my knees and allow my hands to become one with nature. I lean back and breathe. Rubbing my hands from the tip of my head across my neck down to my sides. My eyes fill with tears glitter flowing around. I calm myself with words of encouragement. I turn my head to see a few deer and bears running away passed me. Stopping I slowly got up to my feet and look around. I did not hear any birds no bugs. I stalked over where they were running from till I saw it. A dead deer laying in a bed of white flowers. That was not what scared me it was rabbits eating away the deer. It fills me with fear and dread. I slowly step back to I am far enough to run. I ran an ran till I hit a branch. As the visions slowly started to fade images of the dead animals came to mind on repeat.  I should have known that was only the beginning

Rain and the distant sounds of voices woke me up. The ground was wet and droplets kept falling into my face. Everything was fuzzy and for a second I forgot where and how I got where I am at. Taking a second in I slowly got to my feet thanks to a tree nearby. The voices got louder and I slow recognized it as Mr. Lopez. How long have I been out? 

Licking my lips I call out where I was. Till I saw a flashlight beaming into my face. Covering my eyes with my hand the footsteps grew closer and closer.

" God. Miss. Smith. Where have you been I been looking everywhere? For you. I am so sorry. I thought you were on the bus then when we got back I did not see you and your mom called the cops. We have been looking for you for a few hours" Mr. Lopez said smoothing the hair out my face. 

Holding onto him tight I cried into the crook of his neck not letting go of his green polo shirt that was too small and a bit skin would peak out. But I did not care I was scared. He slowly helps me stable myself and ushers me to the rest of them. There was a small crowd with flashlights. A woman with fair skin that complements her tall thin body with piercing blue eyes ran towards throw the crowd calling out my name with a man espresso skin and dark short black hair and fitted glasses.

" Amaryllis. My baby" Mom called out as the space between us got smaller. I left Mr. Lopez behind and ran into my mom's arms muffling my cries with her long black hair. I could hear her say thank you to Mr. Lopez but I did not move. I do not remember making it home.

I did not remember anything till I was laying in my twin size bed bundle under my warm blue glitter comforter in one of KP old football jersey. I did not hear from Janet and no one from the class was there looking. I would say I was hurt but the words she said still sting.

" Hey, Amaryllis. Its dad I am coming in" Dad said coming in.

I turn my head to see him walking in with an old antique tray with two small teacups. I slowly got up and look at him with a sad smile. Daddy always knew when it was tea time.

" Thanks, dad. Sorry for carrying you and mommy" I said bring my knees to my chest. He smiled and play with my hair in his hands.

" What happen kiddo. What made you run off like that " He asked. I wish I could tell the truth wish I can give him the full story. But to do that I will put more people in trouble and danger then I will want. So like every time before I lied. 

" The kids said something. I did not agree. I went off to take pictures when I trip and fell. I am so sorry" I said looking into the teacup.

" Promise you will never let anyone including Janet or Kindred to disrespect you. Make you feel little" Dad said drinking the tea. I nod and stay quiet as he started to talk about his newest discovery.

The next couple of days I stayed home after my blood work came back off from stress. I hide away from everyone only speaking to my mom, dad, and text and phone calls from KP. I planned not too obsessed but by day two of my week off, I look and look till my finger got numb of Janet and Popi social media. Folks in Easter Hills, New Mexico wasn’t smart. From what was a bus of 25/30 of my peers slowly becoming the whole school in a matter of days. Everyone praising about Trippe. If it was not about that stupid drug it was dead inside pictures of Janet smiling or as of Thursday at 4:36 pm food. I thought about speaking to her but each time by the second ring I hang up.

Mrs. Ethan was the town vet and all-around queen of gossip. We both have a love to talk about the endless amount of facts and news around the world. She had a job and a life I admire minus the gossip and heavy wine drinking. Today she was allowing me to take the lead of performing an emergency C section on a third-place local star Bichon Frise Mr.Fuzzy Bear.

“ Now Issac remembers gentle across right there till your right here” Mrs. Ethan said standing beside me as I slowly made the incision across the lower abdomen. After each step, I ask a few questions and checking everything I was doing was right. 

Inside Mr. Fuzzy Bear after the chew toy was this strange clear like glitter goo. I reach down and look at his pupils which were highly diluted for the meds with gave him to sleep. Mrs. Ethan was taking care of some paperwork in her office so I grab a few test tubes and draw a bit of blood. Nothing is more important than checking all your boxes. After I scoop out all the strange goo out of him I stitch him up and put him in a cage for later.

“ Yes thank you. Oh yes. I will be coming that way on the fifth of next month. Thank you let me know when you got the payment” Mrs. Ethan said. After the end of the call, she spins in her chair kicking and cheering out loud. 

“ Found some blurry treasure. Mrs. Ethan” I said leaning by the doorway with my legs cross one another.

“ Yes. A seller I know in New York came across a set of six large 1970s green glass Italian Chianti bottles. Only roughly 3,000. He gonna hold it for me for two weeks. Huh heaven, Issac heaven” She said full of glee.

“I thought you just like expensive wine ?” I asked. She once shows me her prize-winning collection of wine in her underground cellar with over 50,000 dollars worth. Even my parents were impressed which is a very hard thing to do.

 “ Yes. But honey a girl can never have too many toys and finer things in life. Like that boy toy of yours. Seeing him soon right” Mrs. Ethan said with a wink. Before I could tell her anything she ways already on the phone to give the good news to her husband. I would have told her after my dad ban any date night I have not seen KP yet well besides the two times he hike up the side of the house to my window to cuddle with me or how I cried into his arms one night about how rude Janet was to me. 

School felt different from the week I missed. Was it the scent in the air the vibe that was off. Something that did not fit right. Mr. Lopez was the 1st to check on me which I could not hear much of because people were talking about Trippe or what was for lunch. Even Mr. Lopez who acts like no one noticed had a neon pink little baggie poking out from his briefcase.

Me: Save me I feel I jump fell right into the Twilight Zone.

Mi Amor: Baby lmao. I am sure its nothing. 

Me: Ur right. Thnx xx I have lunch wish me good luck.

I pulled tight to my backpack and pull right through the double metal doors. I put a lot more effort today in what I look like out of my dresses and overalls with a pair of baby blue flared jeans with a thick black melt and a red long sleeve crop top that wasn’t one from it being two sizes too big. The lines on for food were three times longer than usual. And there wasn’t much talking like there usually is. I just did not feel like the Easter Hills High that I been going to for four years now. What made it more strange seeing Janet hunch over like she was a prisoner. Her hair wasn’t done like it usually is. Flat and lifeless and she has dark bags under her eyes. Worried was not the word for it. There wasn’t one.

  “Hey J. Long time no see huh pickle breathe” I said kicking a pretend rock with my black velvet Superga platform sneakers. Janet did recognize me at first no one did. So I got closer and poke her shoulder a few times. By the fifth poke she grips tight to finger so tight I was starting to feel some pain.

“ God Jesus saint Janet. Stop your hurting me” I shouted. Everyone stops and looks at us. She slowly let go of my finger when she saw the pain in my eyes. She grabs a bottle and ran out. I called and ran after her like the good little kitten I was.

“ JANET WAIT WAIT UP” I shouted running after her.

“ Sorry okay. I did not mean to hurt you. Issac” Janet said looking down at the ground. I shook my head and came up to her and lifted her chin up so she can look at me. At first look, her eyes look like how Mr. Fuzzy Bear’s eyes looked. Glazed over. 

“Hey no. I am worried about you. Is everything okay? Did you and Popi get into a fight?” I tried to say but halfway my voice started to crack. We had this way and something was telling me something was wrong. “ Janet. I am worried about you and what this magnesium. Janet, maybe we should ta-” I was cut off by Janet.

“ Look I was a 90s bitch to you. And I screwed up. I hated that I said those things. The week you were gone and we did not talk suck. But I and Popi are fine and if I don’t go now I won’t be able to take some Trippe before classes. And it is no big deal it is just a short cut. I call you later” Janet said then ran off. Something was not right and I knew no one but me was going to be able to figure it out.