#i absolutely loved witnessing their faces of recognition and more often than not go oh shit is that hworks and it is !!!!

[chiisana-lion]

literally for real tho the hworks fans i met and talked to here were the sweetest nothing like the tar pit of everywhere else. next time im drawing exclusively haniwa fanmerch

[byulsgrease]

What Are the Chances? [Part 2]

Looking up from your mind-blowingly delicious sandwich, there was no mistaking them – it’s that group of women from the other night. But what are the chances? (mamamoo x idol!reader)

part 2: the inkigayo sandwich (~1k words) (previous part here)

cw: food mention

Well, it was comeback promotions time at last. Fans loved the title track as you witnessed people tagging you incessantly on Instagram right after it came out at 6pm the night before. You tossed and turned in bed for almost all of last night, anxious about the upcoming live stages for all the music shows. Despite being a relatively “successful” professional, spending seemingly countless hours in the practice room both with and without your backup dancers, a sliver of performance anxiety always reared its ugly head in your mind during promotions. Oh well, sleep deprivation and funky schedules. Just part of the job, you figured.

Checking your phone to look at your schedule, you were filming for Inkigayo this morning and then the afternoon would be mostly taken up by a fansign event. A smile spread across your face while picturing a small venue filled with fans, getting to meet some of the faces behind all of the virtual love you were always shown online and on social media. But music show filming came first. Music shows were never your favorite, performing your title track to death in different outfits at the mercy of each show’s meticulous winning calculations. The only silver lining to music show filming was interacting with other artists, especially meeting ones you admired or ones you didn’t get to see often because of general busyness. Shit, I gotta get to the studio or I’m gonna be late. Tossing some essentials in a bag slung over your shoulder, you power-walked out the door to head to the train station.

Walking into the SBS building somehow felt calming. The anxiety that plagued you usually fell away by the time you arrived at performance venues, especially now that you had gone through this done this more than once. You made your way to your waiting room, passing by several rooms of other artists, hearing the general shuffle of preparation through the closed doors. Slowing down your pace while approaching your assigned room, a playfully loud “SOLAR-SSI!” came through the neighboring waiting room door. A smirk leapt your face, chuckling to yourself. Waiting room banter was prime behind-the-scenes content with the huge amount of downtime spent between filming, and fans always loved that stuff, whatever group that was.

The waiting room stay was chill, hair/makeup, styling, the whole shebang. Realizing there was time to kill between now and the actual filming time, you strolled over to the cafeteria. The Inkigayo sandwich was all the rage these days, but was the hype warranted? In what world could strawberry jam and egg salad be a good combination? Apparently this one. I guess I can’t knock it until I try it, though. You bought one and sat down at a table, the crinkly plastic making its typical ruckus against your ears while unwrapping the wacky sandwich from the plastic. Taking a bite into the plush white bread, your eyes instantly widened. Damn. It’s actually… really good. Smiling and shaking your head in disbelief, you continued munching on the sandwich while scanning the room to see who was promoting today. You recognized Baek Yerin and some miscellaneous EXO members with their backup dancers scattered around the cafeteria while continuing to look around.

Wait a moment. There was no mistaking them – it’s that group of women from the other night. But what are the chances?

Oh…my god. It’s Mamamoo. You made the connection with the sign you barely glanced at earlier, hung on the waiting room door neighboring yours. How the heck did your mind completely fail to recognize them the other night? You weren’t a huge fan or anything, but some of their chart-toppers were absolute bops. Their hard work and career arc begged deep, deep respect.

Do I get up and say something? But this is a work setting and I don’t actually know them… You felt intimidated and a bit star-struck, body heavy in your seat. Your interaction with them on that Friday night in Itaewon seemed far removed seeing them here and now.

You managed to get up and walk over to them with confidence, overtaken by a similar unidentifiable courage to the one you used to stand up to the Itaewon jerk a couple weeks prior.

“Uh… excuse me?” you said hesitantly while tapping the “mom” of the group on the shoulder. All the members turned, curious to see who talked to their leader. “I’m not sure if you remember me… I wasn’t dressed in all this,” gesturing to your stage outfit and face full of make-up. “But I think I ran into all of you in Itaewon a while ago?”

Recognition and shock flashed across all of their faces nearly simultaneously. Lots of hurried bowing and awkward chuckles ensued, finally formally introducing yourselves. Solar, Moonbyul, Wheein, and Hwasa were their names, as you learned through the exchange of KakaoTalk information.

“I honestly thought we’d never run into you again, I just figured a cool stranger decided to help us out,” said Hwasa, notably more friendly than she was back in Itaewon.

“But after you left I was like – ‘Damn, respect. Should’ve gotten your number’,” said Moonbyul, longingly. The rest of the members grimaced. You could tell this was just part of her charm, strangely attractive, as cringey as it was.

“And now we can all hang out and get to know you as a person and a musician!” exclaimed Wheein, with that same eager puppy energy.

Smiling and nodding in agreement, Solar added, “Good luck with your stage and your comeback promotions, I’m sure you’ve been working very hard.” A flush creeped into your cheeks, who was she to compliment your work ethic when you knew that Mamamoo were some of the most hardworking people in the industry?

“Backatyou,” you stammered, feeling your ears burn. Where’d that courage go? With all the composure you could muster, you asked them when they were free to hang out – obviously after promos were over. Everyone wanted fried chicken, of course. Setting up a tentative time and place to meet, you bid them goodbye to head back to your waiting room, your filming time fast-approaching.

Riding high from having introduced yourself to some industry legends who now knew you by name, you recorded the best live stage of your career thus far.

Again, what were the chances?

[kn1feinthec0ffee]

new team - shoyo hinata

shoyo hinata x fem!reader

summary: you teach hinata some skills in middle school and to pay you back, he guarantees you a spot on the karasuno volleyball team.

warnings: NONE VERY FLUFFY

word count: 1,737

notes: i rlly rlly liked writing this bc i love my boy hinata and this just flowed so naturally and i’m rlly proud of it :’)

i also usually write gender neutral reader bc i’m nb and i wanna cater to as many ppl as possible and make them feel valid, but it was kinda necessary to the story for reader to be fem in this one

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

after setting a ball to your friend, you noticed a short boy by himself in the corner of the gym with bright orange hair, setting and receiving against the wall. you made your way over to him, observing that he actually wasn’t too bad.

“oi, redhead,” you called out playfully. he turned around with a look of confusion on his face, as if to say ‘me?’ “yeah you. i couldn’t help but notice you’re playing all by your lonesome over here. any particular reason for that?”

his cheeks tinged pink at the callout, but he responded nonetheless. “w-well there’s not enough boys for the school to create a boys volleyball club, so i’m trying to get as many hours of practice in at school as i can.”

you nodded in recognition of his situation. “well, sorry to say you won’t get very far if the wall is your only opponent. but you’re certainly welcome to practice with me when my practice is over. if you’re interested, of course.”

“woah, really? you’d do that for me?” he asked in astonishment, eyes going wide as saucers.

“of course i would. i may not know much about you, but i can tell you have a passion for the sport, and it’d be a real shame for that to fizzle out,” you smiled genuinely. “i’ll help you practice...”

it took him a moment to realize you were waiting for his name. “oh! hinata! shoyo hinata.” he introduced.

“well shoyo hinata, i’m y/n l/n and i look forward to practicing with you.” you grinned. a whistle blew behind you, pulling you from your conversation with the boy. “sorry, i’ll see you later!”

sure enough, you found him waiting out by the baseball field, spinning a volleyball in his palm. after a short while of practicing, you realized you had underestimated this kid and the power he can pack in his spikes. it was clear he needed to improve in his receives, but he was in remarkably good shape for playing against a wall every week.

the two of you quickly became good friends, shoyo becoming your number one supporter - aside from your parents, of course. he attended all your games, cheering obnoxiously loud when it was your turn to serve.

over the summer from 8th to 9th grade however, the two of you didn’t see each other nearly as often as you used to. you had to admit it made you sad; the sweet redheaded boy had carved a special spot in your heart and you missed him dearly.

you attended karasuno high school, hoping to join the girls volleyball club and make some new friends. upon examining the club applications, much to your dismay, it appeared that such a club didn’t exist.

volleyball was your passion, and it hurt that you had no way of pursuing it anymore.

hanging your head in defeat and crumpling up the paper, you heard footsteps approaching rapidly from in front of you. before you could look up, a body suddenly collided with you, nearly knocking you over with the momentum they had built up.

“y/n!” a familiar voice cried out. you quickly realized the voice belonged to hinata, who’s arms were currently wrapped around you.

“hinata! i can’t believe you go to school here! i’ve missed you so much!” you squealed, hugging him back.

he pulled away, a look of surprise on his face. “are you kidding? i can’t believe you go to school here! you oughta be wherever the best girls volleyball club is! speaking of that, have you joined yet?”

you glanced down to the crumpled paper that still pressed against your palm. “well that’s the thing, it’s not even a choice on the club application form. unfortunately, i don’t think karasuno has one.”

shoyo gasped dramatically, jaw falling open in shock. “so what are you gonna do? you can’t just not play anymore, you’re so good!”

you smiled at the compliment from the boy, but your expression grew sadder. “thanks, shoyo, but i’m not sure what i can do. this seems like it’s out of my hands.”

a look of determination painted his features as he grabbed you by the shoulders. “no, i’m not gonna let this happen to you. don’t worry, y/n, i’ll find a way for you to play.”

he ran off, leaving you alone with your thoughts in the deserted hallway.

despite having absolutely no idea what he was planning, you trusted the boy. you knew he had your best interests at heart and would do anything to help you succeed, and you adored him for that. you just hoped whatever method he had to allow you to play wasn’t too embarrassing for you; you weren’t too keen on begging some team to let you play for them, but you had a feeling hinata’s plan wouldn’t involve that.

——————————

“please?” hinata begged.

“a girl? join the team? i don’t know hinata, you’d have to run it by the coach.” daichi uttered hesitantly.

“but you’re the captain, daichi, you have the final say!” he reminded him.

daichi sighed. “yeah, you’re right. what’s so special about this girl?”

he watched as hinata’s eyes lit up in excitement when he spoke about her. “well she was the setter in middle school, but that was only because no one else was good enough to play that position. she’s really versatile and she taught me practically everything i know about spiking! she’s also got some mean overhand serving skills; she’d be a great addition to the team! please, daichi, pretty please?”

he looked down at the boy to see him glancing up with a pair of puppy eyes, intent on winning him over. daichi felt he was powerless to do anything but give in, though his description of you did sound pretty great if he was being honest.

“alright, i’ll talk to the coach and see what he thinks. bring her to our next practice and introduce her to everyone.” he said, not missing the bright grin that donned the redhead’s face at his words.

“thank you so much, sir! you won’t regret it, i promise!” he ran back towards the basket of balls to practice serving once more.

——————————

“where are you taking me, shoyo?” you muttered. “can you take your hands off yet?”

he had cornered you back in the main building, insisting you accompany him to some unknown destination he had in mind. since then, he had been walking directly behind you, his hands covering your eyes.

“i’ll show you...” he waited until you took a few more steps. “now!”

you blinked your eyes open to find yourself outside of the gym building. “the gym? what are we doing here, hinata?”

you turned to him and he grinned. “volleyball practice is about to start.”

“volleyball - as in boys volleyball? what am i doing here? am i here to watch you practice?”

he donned a soft smile at your confusion. “no, you’re gonna practice.”

your eyes widened. “i am? i don’t even have any athletic clothes, shoyo, i just have my uniform!”

“i wouldn’t worry too much about that today,” he pushed you towards the doors. “i’ll just be introducing you to everyone today.”

“introducing...? what is going on here, hinata?” you questioned. he pushed the door open to reveal a large group of mostly tall boys, all staring down at you.

most of them looked friendly and approachable, but several of them looked rather intimidating. “everyone, this is y/n. y/n, this is your new team.” shoyo announced.

you gasped, turning towards hinata. “m-my new team? you got me a spot on the team?”

the look of gratitude in your eyes had him blushing a bright pink and he scratched the back of his head nervously. “it was nothing, really. y-”

he was cut off as you hugged him tightly, thanking him for allowing you to continue the sport you loved. “you don’t have to thank me, it’s not a huge deal or anything.”

“are you kidding? it’s a huge deal! i can’t believe you did this for me!” your smile nearly reached your ears.

he walked you around the gym, introducing you to his teammates. sugawara and asahi were incredibly sweet, even offering to set you a few balls to test your spiking abilities, though you declined since you were still wearing a skirt.

the intimidating one you saw earlier - tsukkishima, you had learned - was not as sweet as the others you had met and seemed rather distant, though you hoped that would fade as you got to know him.

tanaka and nishinoya were full of energy and practically gushing over you even though they hadn’t yet witnessed your abilities.

the one shoyo introduced as kageyama shot you a nasty glare. “what position did you play?”

“setter,” you murmured, slightly on edge from the look of intensity in his eyes. that intensity morphed into fury after your words, intimidating you further.

you quickly remembered this was the incredible setter hinata had mentioned several times before. “o-oh! don’t worry, i don’t plan on taking your spot or anything, i’m sure you’re far better than i am!”

“good.” you smiled at him nervously. “if you’re good enough, maybe i’ll send you a couple sets.”

and of course you met daichi, the captain to whom you owed your spot on this team. he was very friendly and personable and you suspected he was the type to give inspirational speeches before games.

kageyama pulled hinata aside, practicing quick attacks with him, leaving you with daichi.

“hinata talks about you quite a bit, y’know,” daichi murmured, catching your attention.

“he does?” you queried. “all good things, i hope.”

the captain smiled down at you. “he speaks very highly about you and your skills. i think he’s got a bit of a bias since you taught him what he knows, but i don’t doubt you’ll really prove yourself on the court.”

your eyes went wide at the faith he already had in you, despite never seeing you play. “thank you, daichi, that really means a lot.”

the boys divided themselves into teams, starting a practice match as you and daichi observed from the sidelines. your eyes found hinata in the back row, who gave you a wide grin and a wave.

you waved back, your heart warming at the gesture. you had only just met the boys, but you couldn’t wait for the next practice.

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

i might make this a series? maybe?? maybe not?? idk but let me know what u think :D

tags: @aestosia​ @elysianslove​

not working: @akaashis-keiji @bloodydestiney 

[prose-for-hire]

Wish upon a (dead) star

Pairing: Willow x fem!reader; Vamp!Willow x fem!vamp!reader

Request: Can you please write a Willow x female reader story where in Dopplegangland its revealed that wishverse!Willow is dating wishverse!reader (either by the wishverse reader showing up too or just by vampire Willow mentioning it) and it makes Willow and the reader realize they like girls, specifically each other? I know you’re working on a lot so take as much time as you need if you decide to do it 😃

Requested by: Anonymous

Warning: There is a brief part where it switches to reader being the vampire - blood mention. Violence.

A/N: I loved this request like absolutely LOVED it. I know you said take your time, but I’m still sorry this took so long !! 💖

You had never really thought much about your sexuality. It just wasn’t something that had ever made you question anything. Not until that day.

It was nearing Summer, the grass was being mowed outside and you could smell the very faint aroma of bleach. The janitor was cleaning some poor students remains from the halls again. It smelled distinctly of the summer arriving in Sunnydale.

You looked outside, it appeared like a normal day. The light breeze making the branches cast pretty shadows against the window pane. The sky was clear, a beautiful blue that made your heart feel lighter. Like you could begin to relax. The demons often started to slack off around this time of year too – might the shorter nights. Doesn’t really give them much chance for evil plots.

The bell rang and you slid all of your books back into your bag and slung it over your shoulder. It was the end of the day and everyone was filtering through the exits. But, rather than soaking up the sun you had plans.

You would be trapped in hell. Or, above hell’s mouth anyway. In the Sunnydale library. The weather was hot but the temperature in the library was sweltering. The AC didn’t appear to be working and everyone was sweaty and angry looking. You hadn’t arrived yet, you were taking the long route along the corridors. Soaking up the sun in a wholly unnecessary walk of the school grounds before you made your way to whittle some research books down or read an inscription on a stake or something.

You took a sharp turn, passing the janitor’s closet.

You heard something. Struggling. You frowned, but still pushed on the door, revealing Willow. Wiping her mouth after draining the janitor. You made a sharp intake of breath, rooted to the spot.

You became encased in her eye. Her lips curled into a devilish smile as she took in your entire form. You felt naked under her gaze. As if she had claimed you and explored every part of you before now (and yet still always wanted more).

She smiled at you although it came out as a grimace. Vampire. She was a vampire. Her eyes had been dark, almost blackened but when she saw you her face lit up a little in recognition. Her mate.

She tugged your arm into the closet, there was blood running down the side of her face.

“My girl” She purred into your ear, nipping at it as she always did. Your eyes widened you became dizzy from those words. Suddenly putty in her hands. She was used to this though.

She met your lips hungrily, crashing into you. Her need translated so easily against your lips. The way she easily slid her tongue into your mouth. Tasting you. Telling you that even your mouth was hers. She pressed you flush against her body. Her hand snaking up and weaving into your hair, pulling you in further. Her lips urgent, a passion that would never die.

She was in every sense of yours. You could feel her so intimately. Smell that distinct Willow smell. Even the lingering metallic taste on her tongue drew you in…

With that thought, you pull away suddenly, having been caught up in the moment for longer than anyone that had been so convinced they were straight could get away with.

“Willow! What’re you doing?!” You shouted; your eyes as big as dinner plates. She pouted at your words, disappointed. Eyes still scanning your form.

“Aw no, you’re wrong too... We’ll have to fix that” She nodded, her smile turning into the grimace again. Her face shifted. Forehead ridged and unforgiving, fangs protruding from her mouth painfully. You screamed and backed away, just shy of her grasp.

You turned and ran as fast as you could. Sweating out pure adrenaline as you quickened your pace. Making sure she wasn’t on your heels. You skidded into the library, screaming that Willow’s dead. That she was a vampire and… managing to not mention that you could still feel her lips on yours.

As you were shouting this, your Willow listened before stepping into your vision properly. In a different outfit, one that was more her. Relief washed over you and you didn’t think twice. You just launched yourself at her. Wrapping your arms around her and nearly scooping her off her feet.

“I was so scared I lost you” You whispered in her ear from your place by her ear.

“You always have me!” She insisted with a little whispered giggle that made your heart skip a beat.

You were so pleased that she was okay. That she wasn’t hurt. It meant so much to you. As you released her from the hug you had both been wrapped up in happily, something dawned on you. Realisation struck.

It hit you in the gut. This sudden thought you couldn’t escape. You liked that feeling. Any feeling so long as it was with her. Kissing Willow had felt so real. It made you feel alive, despite the fact that your dead friend had helped you discover this. You desperately wanted to be back with her lips on yours.

You liked women. You were in love with women. Well, a woman.

Just as you had this thought, Evil Willow appeared trying to attack you. Or… kiss you. You weren’t entirely sure which. You and Willow backed away and tried to hide. But she kicked you to the floor, taking your by the throat. Willow screamed and the vampire turned and scanned her eyes over her other self. She really was disappointed in the outfit.

As she paused, you grabbed a cross from the counter and thrust it in her face making her hiss and recoil from it. With this, Giles took his chance and hit her over the head. Sending vampire willow to the ground. Passed out. You helped Giles drag her over to the cage and lock her in.

Willow would have helped but she was still recovering from her vampire self trying to kill her. You sat beside her on the step as she recovered, sliding a hand around her shoulders. You rubbed her upper arm soothingly.

She turned to face you and your faces were so close. Your nose touched hers and you could feel her breath warm on your face. You wished to lean in further and caress her lips with your own. A much sweeter kiss than you had shared with her vampire counterpart.

Her eyes lowered to your mouth and you thought this could truly be happening. That she was about to kiss you. But instead she reached with her hand for the side of your face.

“Oh, uh, you have some…” Willow reached and wiped the corner of your mouth, “...lipstick”

You became so caught in the gesture you barely heard her words. Her skin against your mouth, that soft touch. You closed your eyes slowly, savouring the feeling.

That was, until you comprehended why she was doing it. Your eyes widened. You hadn’t been wearing any lipstick. It had been… the other Willow.

You moved backwards at her words, sliding from her touch. You opened your mouth to try and make some kind of excuse that she had never even asked for but you were luckily interrupted.

At this moment, Xander and Buffy ran in. They had retreated from from the Bronze after what they had seen. They had come back for reinforcements and to break the horrible news.

“Y/n’s dead!” Buffy shouted, her voice desperately sad. The tone in mourning.

“We tried to help but she’s a vamp-” Xander said, looking at the ground in horror at what he had witnessed. You had been turned and you definitely weren’t a carebear with fangs either.

“Guys… it’s okay, I’m here”

“Not now, Y/n, we’re talking about-”

Everyone’s eyes brightened and Buffy and Xander took it in turns to hug you tight. You had never been more grateful to have such caring friends.

Giles filled them in on what he suspected had happened and that they should either make sure they got back to their dimension or Buffy needed to slay them. You and willow glanced at each other uneasily, you weren’t so sure if you could watch them die. Even if you knew you probably weren’t going to get on with your vampire self.

“Well, dead-and-not-yet-buried has demands”

“What?”

“She wants a spell, to return her to her dimension and… Willow-”

“-Or she starts snackin’ on the Bronze… and we’re not talking buffalo wings here”

“Well, ah, that may be difficult as she is currently out cold on the floor over there” Giles gestured with his head as Xander and Buffy turned to look. There she was, another copy of Willow. It was so spooky.

Eventually, a plan was made. You had argued against it but became outnumbered. The plan was, Willow would dress up as the one vampire you wanted and hopefully convince her to leave the Bronze alone.

You worried - you didn’t want Willow to be harmed. You had seen what her counterpart was like you could only imagine what the vampire version of you would be like. You shivered at the thought.

“Please… be safe” You asked, your fingers trailing against the skin on her arm. You were trying not to scan her body in her new outfit. You wouldn’t want her to feel uncomfortable, she was already feeling strange. She insisted she would be fine and everyone else headed out. Leaving you in the library.

You were pacing as Willow tried to convince vampire you that she was also a vampire. You were scared for her safety. This revelation had come at a time where you needed to be with her, to explore your feelings. But instead you were thinking about her even more. Because you could lose her in every sense if she made one wrong move. You tried to distract yourself but it was no use.

You wondered what it could possibly feel like to be that way. A vampire…

You were there, in the Bronze surrounded by terrified humans. You were holding them hostage with the help of an ex-vengeance demon and some minions you had picked up on your travels. You wanted a spell to take you back to your dimension but only so long as you were reunited with her.

And then there she was. Finally, your love had been returned to you. You smirked at Willow hoping she would be pleased with you for the way you never stopped looking for her.

She walked towards you and you couldn’t help drinking in her form. Wishing to take her as yours. Right there. You adored her so. If you could breathe, she would have knocked the breath from your body.

You were so busy enjoying her walking up to you that you couldn’t sense that she was human. You pulled her into you and crashed your lips to hers. The usual greeting. She hesitated for a fraction of a second but then she kissed back just the way she always would. You smirked into the kiss until she was ripped from your arms again.

You hated being separated from her. You turned, snarling at the human that dared interrupt such feeling. It stirred the dead heart in your chest.

“She’s human! Look at her!” Anya insisted, pointing accusingly.

“Would a human be able to do this?” Willow panicked immediately and asked this before screaming as loud as she could. To which everyone replied yes.

“You’re not my girlfriend! You are some cheap imitation!” You seethed, glaring. Burning holes into this human. You wanted your lover to return.

“What happened to you?! With the creeping and the threatening and the grr…?” Willow asked, making claws with her hands as she said the last part. It made you tilt your head to scan her face. It really was strange that this sweet human could be your mate. She had too much goodness in her.

You wished to scare her. You grabbed the nearest human and took a bite, savouring every drop and wiping your mouth with your hands. This just served to smear more blood around your face.

“When you wish upon a dead star, your nightmares come true” You smirked, blood still leaking from the corners of your mouth as her face paled at the way you held enjoyment in the fear all around.

Luckily for Willow, her scream had raised the alarm and Buffy, Xander and Angel came as soon as they could. There was a brutal fight where most of the vampires were dusted.

Willow held a stake to your unbeating heart but she just couldn’t do it. They would have to capture you as well. Allow you to be reunited with your Willow and take you back to the wishverse.

You (the real you) and your friends were staring into the cage. Willow and the others had brought back… you. Well, you if you were evil. Also, it appeared that your fashion sense had died with you.

Both vampire Willow and you were now locked safely in the cage in the library. Just long enough for Giles to recite what was needed to send them back to their dimension.

They came to and smirked at each other. Faces contorted in a way that you weren’t even sure you could match despite her being you. They recognised that it was the other’s mate (the real ones) and they instantly pulled each other close. Lips crashing against each other, the kiss deepening so much everybody felt as if they needed some kind of privacy.

“I think… I’m kinda… a lot gay.” You said, eyes widening as vampire you started to stick her tongue down Willow’s throat.

“Me too” the Willow that was stood beside you nodded. Her voice just above a whisper.

Evil Willow moved a fraction to look at their doubles through the bar. She looked between you and your Willow and rolled her eyes, muttering something close to ‘bored now’. As if it was so obvious that you both liked women.

That was before she grasped vampire you into another obscene kiss that you and Willow looked away from… and looked into each other’s eyes.

Your eyes widened and you both felt a heat rising in your cheeks, eventually opting to drop to the ground. Even though you did this, you couldn’t bear to truly be apart.

You both silently reached for the other, clasping hands. Your hands were entwined as one. A silent show of solidarity. Your minds spinning so fast you couldn’t focus on a single thought. The only constant thing, the only real thing you could hold on to was each other.

The love that you shared.

[athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit]

Feral Fatality

(Part 1)

So this has been in my works for a week now. You see, it was a typical day for me scrolling through Tumblr and visiting some....tags, and then a short drabble inspired me to write about a feral reader totally not because I was craving violence and murder no, which reached more than 4k words on the first draft so here we are! Shitty title, I know. The proofread work went over 7k, and it's not even finished yet. Once I'm done posting this and my main orc fic, I will get into the requests so please be patient!

Pairing: Jason Voorhees x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Brief blood and violence at the end of the first part

Contains: Swearing, mentions of neglect and abuse (not graphic)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

-

Screams slit through the twilight as the frigid autumn wind blew harshly through the trees of Camp Crystal Lake. The rustling of bushes and cracking of twigs echoed as foolish teenagers attempted to escape, running for their lives when they were the ones who dared step foot in the place, tarnishing it with their sins.

Jason Voorhees, the innocent kid who died several years ago; pushed to the lake by his bullies and left to drown for being different and unsightly— all because the counselors were busy with their fucking business—, returned as an undead killing machine right after his mother murdered them and died. His sole purpose: to protect the land and purge the people who had no right to be here, sentencing them to a horrendous death.

One by one, they struck the ground, lifeless, either chopped into pieces, beheaded, or stabbed countless times by his trusty machete.

Limbs...ripped off with his bare hands.

-

The muffled snapping of branches reached your ears as the vehicle's wheels ran over them, stirring you from your nap. You rubbed your chilled skin under your clothes as you looked out of the window, thumping your forehead on the glass when you leaned forward the moment you saw the scenery. Trees, both ancient and young, their leaves varying in hues of green, orange and red, filled your line of sight. It was still early in autumn, your favorite time of the year, not hot but not too cold either. You watched in awe as the warm-colored leaves cascaded down from the branches and down to the ground, some carried by the wind farther from their origin.

The view did its best to distract you from a couple in session a seat before yours. They always seem to do that all the time, regardless of place or occasion.

This was a week-long getaway after graduation, they said.

Nothing but a white lie.

An excuse for the girls to hook up with their campus crushes, a week of fucking and smoking drugs.

You, however, just got invited —forced— by your "friend" Eloiza, the self-proclaimed hottest girl in the entire school, typical captain of the cheerleading squad; blonde and curvy. Her words were much too sugar-coated that even a deaf person could tell she had ulterior motives.

She only planned to use you as a tool to raise her fame. A stepping stone for her own gain.

That wasn't the only reason though.

Everyone knew who you were, but only by your name. News and rumors alike spread like wildfire through gossipy mouths. Your deeds were known throughout campus.

(Y/N)(L/N), top academic competitor and multiple-award winner, a straight-A student for five years in succession. Some believed you were a genius, the rest called you insane.

You wouldn't call yourself a genius though, you did not possess the obsessive need to acquire eternal knowledge and discover the secrets of the universe as most of them do, to effortlessly solve every problem that comes their way.

If that were the case, then you wouldn't be here in the first place.

You only love learning and indulging in the beauty of Mother Nature, plus a handful of hyper-fixations.

Fine, a buttload of hyper-fixations. And such came in handy in various situations.

You were unrivaled, not one of your peers could come close to your level of wit. Many people wished to have a brain like yours, and just as many hated you for even having one, praised you just as much as slandered your name and judged you.

Despite your reputation, the poor school didn't broadcast it, at least every time. The staff probably got tired of repeating the same phrase over and over again. Which caused more than half of the whole campus to never believe you to be the one behind all of that, laughing at your face when you said your name.

"You? The (Y/N) (L/N)? Ha! As if I'd fall for that! Everyone knows how she looks. You're the absolute opposite!"

"You got to be kidding me."

"You're a joker, aren't you? Is this a prank? If so please stop it, don't pretend like you're her."

Yep, and it goes on and on and on. They were right, you didn't look like someone who would win contests or excel in class.

You constantly wore clothes that hid your form, silent unless spoken to or asked to answer, distant and reserved, you preferred the company of books and nature to the rowdiness and prying hands of humans. A sociopath they deemed you. Quite an extreme word to use when you simply wanted to enjoy the only things that made you happy in this living hell.

You only know a handful of people who approached you first-hand and praised you genuinely, even asking for an autograph, which really surprised you.

Yet, they would never understand you even if you explained, because you can't, words evade you when it comes down to voice out what you feel. Even if you can, no one would care. And even if they did? You doubt it was real. Everyone wants to use you, and they seem to believe you'd let them. You didn't trust anyone. The last time you did only left you sobbing on the dirt.

You wanted to be left alone.

To connect with nature and get as far away as possible from your parents. Parents who kept shouting profanities at each other, the main cause for your depression and anxiety levels to skyrocket, the shaking turning into trembling, 7 hours of sleep to barely a blink.

That's why you agreed to go in the first place.

You hated your household—despised it— a mess of broken shards of bottles and ceramics littered your kitchen floor more often than not. You didn't bother cleaning it up anymore, your mother would just waste away her money on more things to break and throw them at your joke of a father when they fought anyway.

Not only that, you thought...No, you believed if you worked hard to be the best and win countless competitions, your parents would give you recognition and reconcile for your sake, but no, no, no. They didn't care one bit about you or your medals, it was as if you were never even included in their lives at all. Even birthday celebrations ceased to exist in everyone's books after your 13th.

So you gave up.

Down into the void, your wishful thinking went, that they'll become better people over time, that the attention and love you deserve will be given one day. Instead, you wallowed yourself in your studies, besting everyone in everything academic. Oh, but you weren't athletic. Far from it. Damn, you were getting thin and sleep-deprived from being neglected, dark circles under your eyes every time you looked at your reflection. People hating your existence wasn't helping, some teachers even suspected you of cheating.

There's no way in hell you'd let yourself get dragged down to end up like them! You were of legal age now, a fresh graduate from high school, you doubt your parents even knew that since they didn't fucking show up on your graduation day. You were moving out of that shithole of a town. Anywhere is better than where they breathed and spat their poison.

And so here you are. Standing in this breath-taking and mysterious place. Camp Crystal Lake, it is named, secluded, barely touched by modernization as it is hidden between mountains and trees as far as the eye could see. Not to mention its namesake, the lake, you imagined it would mirror the sky, be it day or night. You loved it, you adored the fresh, breathable air that went through you the moment you stepped out of the van.

You also knew about him.

Resolved to never go back to that goddamned house, you took everything you had and needed; the special little trinkets you've collected through the years shoved into a box, the few clothes you had, art materials, and your precious books carefully packed inside a big travel bag, along with your stocked up canned goods, convenience food, snacks, and toiletries.

And other, important things.

You hauled your baggage out of the van and got off, immediately moving to the side and away from everyone.

You got used to people ignoring you that you didn't care anymore.

Why waste your time with them when you can have all of it to yourself?

Eloiza led the group into the larger cabins, the others went straight into the lake for a swim. You even notice some teens disappear into the trees, most likely for a quickie.

In return, you stayed out of their way, fully satisfied being invisible and with your own company as you trudged to a cabin, the one you caught a glimpse of earlier in the van. It was a long way's separated from the rest, closest to the forest and hidden behind a few trees.

You were panting when you finally stopped in front of it, clearly not used to walking long distances and carrying stuff near as heavy as your weight.

Upon closer inspection, you found yourself gaping at its appearance. The wooden walls lost their color as they aged, white and brown mushrooms grew on the ground along with green moss sticking to the beams, and a few vines crawling their way up and on the roof. Despite all of that, the cabin looked sturdy still.

There's this "one with nature" vibe that drew you to it, like a string pulling you closer and inviting you. Ominous most would say, but you almost cried when the rich scent of earth and oxygen filled your lungs as you took one big inhale, sighing in content for once. It was a lot smaller compared to the others, but you didn't care. As long as you were left alone with your stuff you were a-okay.

Perfect.

You turned the knob and peeked inside, letting out a small gasp and opening the door wider to see the whole thing.

Old as it is, it was proper and neat, regardless of the tiny cobwebs on the upper corners. A small, square dining table sat in the middle of the first part of the place, two wooden stools placed underneath. There were cupboards on the wall and a simple sink with an empty space to the side. You went to the next room, doorless and separated with but a wall of thick plywood. It had a single bed in the corner, off-white cotton sheets sitting atop, not a wrinkle in sight. No pillow though. There's a decent-sized closet along with a small table on one side of the bed. One of the windows had a hole in the middle, a ray of sunlight streaming in through the cracks. It was too big for the size of a gunshot, so maybe a rock.

A bit hesitant, your fingers traced the wood, feeling the inconsistent texture. When you went through the back door, your smile reached your ears when trunks of trees and bushes greeted you...

Wait, is that what you think it is?

Stepping closer to the treeline, your jaw dropped when you spotted a thicket of fruit-bearing plants past them, gathered in a tiny clearing.

Blueberries.

Purple little cuties poked out of the green shrubs, sporting a vibrant hue that caught your eye. The sun shone overhead and providing the energy they needed. Blueberries managed to grow in the area despite the trees fencing them.

Tempted and suspicious, you crouched down, inspecting the shrub if it really was a blueberry plant and not a deadly doppelganger. Once you were sure it was, (it would be hilarious if you simply died from nighshade poisoning), you plucked one and brought it to your mouth. It was sweeter than you expected, with a slightly bitter aftertaste. You hummed in delight, wiping the juice with your thumb when it dribbled out, staining your finger and lips.

You didn't want to anger anybody. Hell, coming here was already trespassing, so you didn't push your luck and left it alone, hoping they'd forgive you for picking one. They surely didn't look wild with the way they lined up.

You scanned the rest of the area, eventually going back inside to unpack after your little evaluation.

-

The sun was a hand's away from setting when you finished. Pride swelled in your chest at the work you did, your things stocked and organized with care inside the cabinets and drawers. You won't have to worry about your food for now as cupboards were filled to the brim with them. You also had a decent amount of money left from your savings account that your parents weren't aware of. Prize money, allowance, and the salary you got from doing online jobs all went into it. The camp was a few miles off the road, and a couple more to the nearest gas station with a convenience store. Very far yes, but it's better than living with the people who made you do this in the first place.

You just hoped you wouldn't die walking.

Everything was worth it, anyways. You were free now, at least that's what you think.

You trudged to the bed, eyeing the cushions, wary and a little scared to touch the sheets that appeared to be cleaned just recently, you didn't even lay a finger on them ever since you got inside. Oh, but your tired muscles were screaming to just flump down and relax.

So you did.

You dumped yourself face first and inhaled. It wasn't smelly nor fragrant, just the simple freshness on the cotton fabric. You felt beat but ain't sleepy, yet, so you reached to the drawer beside the bed and pulled out a book to pass the time as you waited for the sun to go down and give way for the moon. Its spine and pages had creases, worn out and yellow-stained from age and use. It was a horror-mystery novel told through a first-person narrative, a story of a middle-aged detective and her Maine coon in their attempts to solve a murder case of a young European lady named Cassandra Chase.

You dozed off in the middle of chapter 21, the part where Dinnie, the cat, discovers a valuable clue to the crime, a rotten limb in the dried basement well.

—

—

Jason settled down on the stairs of his porch; shoulders relaxed and hunched as he leisurely sharpened his machete with a small whetstone. Lines of sunlight kissed him through the leaves of trees, the birds in the area chirped on their perches, and the grass swayed, gentle, as a cool wind passed by.

His day be so fine. No troublemakers to deal wi—

The alarm rang, announcing unwelcomed arrival. As if a switch flipped inside, he's already on his feet, making his way swiftly to their location.

A new batch of wretched youngsters, another day ruined. Hunting them down makes his blood thrum in his veins, yes, but they soured his mood, just when he was at peace. He's dead set on slaughtering them in the most gruesome ways possible, only then he could go back and enjoy the serenity the nature around him brings.

He surveyed the area, camouflaging with the wilderness, silent as he watched and counted the soon-to-be corpses, his mother's voice at the back of his mind, guiding him.

They decided to go either to the main cabins, or the lake...even into the trees.

All but one.

Jason already planned to cut down the couple later as they lose themselves in the forest, doing nasty, dirty things to his camp. The killer shifted his attention to you, curious as to why you didn't join the lot. Instead, you walked back down the road. He followed and saw you approach the small cabin, separated from the rest, your eyes widened...

Adoration?

You were quiet— except for the little gasps of awe you let out in between pants—as you looked around and over the place. The ones you came with were rowdy and destructive, a complete opposite. He hid as he observed you from afar, moving around to adjust his vision on you. You smiled every time you looked to the trees, he noticed.

Why were you smiling like that? Why did you pick this cabin? Were you planning on defiling it?

The last question in his mind made his blood boil. He'll kill you first if that was the case. That cabin you chose was special, it was where he and his mother used to stay. He occasionally visits that one to keep it clean and free of dust. If you even think of—

Jason, sweetie...look closer. She does not have such intentions.

His mother's words rang in his head. Even from where he stood, he could see what you did inside. You looked a little hesitant, touching and drawing back your hand before letting your fingers feel the wood as if it was something delicate. Despite the initial...shyness? You proceeded to make it your home, somewhat, dropping the large duffel bags you carried on your front and back, and a similarly large roller case on your left. It was as if you planned to stay for a long time.

Jason hears you take a long breath and sigh as you went out the backdoor. You grinned wider when you saw the nature around you. You stepped forward, straight in his direction...

For a moment he thought you saw him, seeing your jaw drop. You moved closer, and he just froze there, until you crouched down.

Oh, his plants.

He watched you as you gently picked a fruit, your gaze...soft. You brought it to your mouth, some of the juice spilling on the side and you wiped it with your thumb.

Cute.

You went back inside and continued to unpack your things, carefully maneuvering around the cabin.

Maybe he'll spare you if you continue to be good. You didn't do anything dirty, yet. It's only a matter of time before the camp is shrouded in darkness and his hunt will begin.

Let's see what you'll do before that happens.

-

Jason tracked down the three that went into the forest. He knew the place like the back of his hand, and it was easier to pinpoint them as he heard moans.

What he saw was utmost disgusting, two girls pleasuring a male with their mouths in broad daylight.

Kill them, my boy! Such foul beings need to die! Kill them, kill!

He circled them, steps soundless. Jason gripped his machete and brought it down the guy's neck, embedding the weapon into the bark, the head rolled down, oozing with blood, and fell against the women, drenching them in red. Not a single cry left from their mouths as he sliced both with one swing, blood pouring out of their throats and staining the ground. Jason dragged their bodies and tossed them into a pit he dug beforehand, making quick work in burying them.

A swift end. Now he waits.

[nambamjun]

Two Sides of the Same Medallion {KYC}

Pairing: Kang Yuchan x Reader (Female)

Genres: Greek and Roman Mythology, first meeting, strangers to friends, two witty and stubborn individuals arguing over a literal tree stump.

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: This is for an ACEWRITERS event that I am absolutely thrilled to be a part of, Greco Roman Writes! Please feel free to visit the page if you have the time and check out all of the other lovely writers we have in the group along with their brilliant works! As always, comments are loved and welcomed, especially since I took one or two creative liberties with this one. I hope you enjoy ~<3

Nike is the Greek god(dess) of victory, and Victoria is the Roman goddess of the same calling. Of course they don't share the same universe... or do they? What if on a soft spring night the two would meet? Oh this is shaping up to be very interesting indeed...

There was really nothing to do. She had already run around the width of the largest island in Italy seven times. Every one of the laps felt the same, the proceeding taking just as much time as the one before it, and by the time she stopped she was only marginally out of breath, much to her great displeasure. The previous night she had counted once again how many times she could deadlift a six foot long tree trunk before growing bored (two hundred eighty three), as well as the number of pull ups she could perform from a sturdy branch before the same mental unrest met her (one hundred ninety seven). She really didn't feel like counting them again, even if it was to beat her own score.

So, no. There was, quite literally, nothing to do. This upset her very quickly. She hated having nothing to do. It got to the extent where she would almost rather there were fifteen tasks on her metaphorical plate than none, the overcrowding was almost easier to deal with than the silence. Sighing, she figured she would do what she almost always ended up doing - going to the wooded cliffs only a few miles away at the tip of Brindisi, sit against a tree, and look out over the Ionian Sea. The sun was set to rise in only few hours anyways and she never really did tire of the vibrant oranges, reds, and pinks dancing in the water's reflection.

She took her time getting there. She didn't exactly drag her feet but she didn't sprint as she normally would have. Might as well kill some time and take in the scenery. I haven't done that in a while. Ultimately she was glad she did. The spring's second bloom was in full swing and although the sun wasn't out to open up the flowering tree's petals their sweet fragrance still melded with the crisp night time air. Approaching the vista, she sensed that something was slightly off and her footsteps slowed to a halt next to a particularly large shrub. She peered around cautiously until her eyes landed on a form, seemingly human, leaning against the tree she has always claimed as her own resting place.

This alone made her eyes narrow, softly muttering, "that's my spot..."

Taking a deep breath she briskly walked on, making her way towards the offender and not even bothering to be subtle. They didn't look her way, not even when she stopped only a foot away from him. How rude. She could feel herself getting more and more petty by the second as she cocked her hip and let her arms cross loosely over her middle. She cleared her throat. No reaction. What the... oh come on... She lightly coughed. "Hello?"

The poor figure jumped and looked around frantically before meeting her eyes. "Oh my gods-" he gasped, exasperated, "-you scared me nearly half to death! You should know better than to sneak up on people like that!"

The prickle of annoyance lifted her shoulders. "Well excuse me for barging in on someone I've never met before who's sitting in my usual spot!"

"Hey this is my first time here! How was I supposed to know this is your spot?" He gestured dramatically to the ground around him.

"What should I put a sign there or something? Just nail one to the tree? Ah yes I can see it now, 'may no man, woman, or beast rest here; save for Victoria the great.' I could see that going over quite well," she huffed, the very essence of sarcasm dripping from her words as her eyes rolled once again. They settled on his face. He was actually quite attractive, now that she got a good look at him.

"So... your name is Victoria then...?" Just when I was about to let you off the hook, huh?

She sharply refocused her eyes onto his. "How do you know that?"

"You just said it...?"

"I most certainly did not!"

"Oh wow sure you caught me going off your nametag."

"Nametag??" She looked incredulously on her person for only a second before glaring at him. He didn't even have to open his mouth for her to know what he was thinking. His eyes lazily looked at her with a blank expression that said it all. Seriously? You fell for that? Sighing with a shake of her head she resigned herself to plopping down and leaning against a neighboring tree. Despite how much she wanted that spot it wasn't worth the effort, his wit was annoyingly just as sharp as hers. "Well, you know my name." He stared at her with... some other sort of expression, one she couldn't quite read. Curiosity? Recognition? It felt familiar somehow. Not just the look, something else that was so tiny she would barely even try to put her finger on it. "Yours is...?" She trailed off again.

He diverted his gaze for one or two seconds. "Yuchan."

"Yuchan?" He hummed in affirmation. She nodded her head, "good name, I like it. Took you a second to answer though, is that your birth name or one you go by?" His eyebrows rose highly.

She quickly realized the gravity of what she had asked. "Sorry if that-"

"It's just-"

They both looked at each other waiting to speak.

"You can-"

"You go-"

Small smiles crept over their faces and laughter threatened to take them both over. She reached her hand out towards him so as to say go ahead.

After a moment, "It's my own name, and it's okay that you asked."

A light and comfortable silence enveloped them. Names are a personal thing. She didn't want to outright ask but she did have a small twinge of curiosity that he picked up on by her contemplative expression. "Before I was born... people thought I was going to be a girl, so they named me Nike. It could probably have been seen as a guy's name, sure, but I never really liked it, so..." he turned his face forward to look out over the waters.

Curling her legs to her chest and loosely draping her arms around them, she slowly nodded her head again before resting her chin on her knees. "I respect that." Out of her peripherals she saw him slightly look over to her for only a second before refocusing on the view. She did the same.

Neither of them talked for quite a while. Crickets sung an aria that mixed with distantly faint rolling of water on rock, and every so often a rustle from the leaves of the trees around them dancing in the gentle breeze. It was so calm that for a few precious moments she forgot who she was, her responsibilities, and the challenges of being more than mortal. It was just her, the beautiful world, and her friend a few feet away. Friend... could she call him that? Might as well.

Unbeknownst to her, he was having almost the exact same thoughts. Or at least type of thoughts. He was glad he found this place, and even her, really. Home had been getting too much for him, his superiors only giving him more and more work to do, expecting him to be perfect all the time and be completely and unconditionally devoted to his work. There was only so much success he could give to others, though, before he would drain himself completely. That was something they didn't seem to understand. So, he stormed out, and somehow found his way to that spot. Wherever this spot even is, anyways.

This turned out to calm him down much more than he thought it would, and despite bolting from everything to be alone, the company was nice.

Meanwhile, the fact that her spot had been taken over for the night was completely out of the mind of the girl in question. She slowly allowed herself to be lulled into sleep, leaning more heavily against the tree and her fingers relaxing their grip on each other from around her legs. As unconsciousness settled around her like a heavy blanket he stole a quick glance at her relaxed figure. The corners of his lips turned upward and his eyes softened before looking back away. Exhaling softly, he knew he should get back, but he decided to stay for just a little longer. Just until the sun starts to peak over the horizon. Then I'll go.

But not yet, for now, he would stay there, in that spot, and with that girl.

A new friend.

----------

[[ Quick lil end note, no matter who you are, where you come from, or how you identify - you are valid, and you are loved. <3 ]]

[braindeacl]

World Turned Rainbow | Eilidh & Metzli

SETTING: Crest Works Art TIMING: Last night. PARTIES: @deathisanartmetzli & @braindeacl SUMMARY: Eilidh and Metzli have some fun in the gallery.  WARNINGS: Drug use

Approaching people had been particularly daunting the past few days. Most of the wounds had finally healed, but Metzli still appeared a little worse for wear. Even sporting their favorite suits, they hid away. Keeping to their office, they worked on the new budget they acquired thanks to Bex. Who they had drank blood from, twice now. With a groan, they pushed aside the pestering thoughts and the even more pestering paperwork to talk a walk in the gallery. Today they would greet their patrons as they usually did, today they would start anew. 

Hair lively bounced with each clack on the tile floor, welcoming every person they saw in the gallery. There was a new rotation of works, so the place was filled with more people than usual. Some were the artists themselves, and some were intrinsic minds that delved into the art world, seeking to gawk at works they could not create. Maybe even seeking a small escape into the images depicted on canvas and stone alike. 

As Metzli made their way to the back of the main gallery, a fair woman caught their eye. She was studying their painting, possibly even admiring it. Their smile grew, making their rounds until they reached her, saving her for last. “Good afternoon,” They greeted her with a smooth and gentle voice, trying to make a good first impression. “I see you’re enjoying my masterpiece. I have another just down that way, but this one is much more special.” 

Those walls still pressed against her skin. Clung to Eilidh like a lover’s embrace. But love was not returned. Instead, it was stolen from her; left her hollow. Determined to render her a copy of that underground prison. Or to fill its own cavity. But it was endless and she was finite and could only give up so much before she was nothing. And that nothingness knocked on her door. So, she ran from it. All across town. Filling her mind, her soul, with all it could offer. So the knocking was harder to hear. So the cavern had other things to steal. Mindless wandering led her to the gallery. A first encounter. Not that she wasn’t interested in the arts. She just preferred the creations of nature than to canvas. But it was new. And she needed new. And these walls didn’t cling to her.

And luckily the creations of nature weren’t far. Imitated upon the canvas. From a distance, some could be mistaken for windows. Stuck in time. But close inspections always revealed those telling brushstrokes. Eilidh passed by these frozen windows—peering into days long gone. A stroll through time and space. Until an outlier arose. Less of a window to the world, more like a window to the mind. Though she did wonder the truth of its depiction. A living raven didn’t seem interested in suits, but a decayed one might. Was there one right now, somewhere, enjoying a three-piece? Ponderings stopped with a voice. Like a cool stream after a hot summer’s day. Eyes followed its trajectory—found a matching visage. Peppered with signs of distress, but a delightful visage to look at, all the same. Attention took turns with the creator and the creation, noting how both sported a dashing ensemble. “Oh? ‘Cause you two match?” A chuckle tickled her lips.

“I was going to say it was because you were looking at it, but that response is a thousand times better,” Metzli replied delightedly, their smile growing wider at Eilidh’s witticism. It wasn’t often that someone caught them off guard like that—in such a positive way at least. Upon further inspection of the woman, she was almost certainly a whole foot shorter, but they did have a soft spot for those too small to reach their head. “Beauty and wit, I like that. I’m Metzli Bernal, creator of that painting, and owner of this gallery.” They adjusted the cuffs of their sleeves before clasping their hands behind their back. 

“Who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?” They asked, leaning in slightly with an aura of not only attention, but intention. Regardless of whether or not Metzli would strike out once again—because somehow everyone they flirted with was taken—they didn’t care. Finding solace in simple connection and idle prattle was becoming a frequent thing. Something they could get used to, especially if the people of White Crest were all this funny and intriguing. 

Beauty and wit! They were certainly obvious in their intentions. It was charming and refreshing, the forthrightness of it all. Burst of a chuckle shot from Eilidh’s mouth, exposing her gapped tooth smile. “Ah, owner! Flirtin’ a common tactic for business reasons? Or’s this personal?” Despite the implied accusation, her tone remained light. A soft jab if assumptions were true, or an open door for following coquetry. The name held a ring of familiarity, though she could not place its source. Not uncommon, this was a small town after all. Metzli grew closer—a slight adjustment in posture, but height resulted in them nearly hovering above. Eilidh leaned in turn, fitting in that space below their head. Keeping those eyes locked upon their own. Held it there, before a finger pressed on their abdomen. “Got a button loose.” When they fell for her trick, that pressing finger switched from abdomen to nose, flicking it. “Bloop.” Something rumbled in her chest, it sounded amused. “Call me Macleod.” 

“It certainly can be,” Metzli replied, shrugging and snickering softly. Her gapped smile was endearing, leaving them with a buzzing in their stomach. How strange, they thought to themselves. “But this approach is for personal enrichment. It’s not often that I get a patron with your charm.” It was true. Eilidh’s lightsome approach and attractive features had a pull that was like a moth to a flame. 

Falling for the juvenile trick, Metzli returned the laughter and enjoyed Eilidh’s in return. It was only then, when listening to her entertained reaction, that they heard a lack of something. A lack of a heartbeat. The pull grew even stronger, prompting them to continue, “It is an absolute pleasure, Macleod...” Metzli motioned for a handshake, pulling in her death-ridden hand to plant a small kiss to the back of it. “Wait a minute. Macleod. Why does that sound familiar?” They asked, a look of recognition painted on their face. Her name sounded so familiar, but they’d never seen her face before. Wouldn’t be hard to remember. “Have we met?”

A brow quirked in amusement. The charm was thick and loud, and Eilidh let herself be washed up in it. A wonderful distraction. And perhaps a bit of fun for later. “And I don’t often meet someone so blunt.” Especially in this town, a place of many secrets hushed on the wind. She understood the need; took part as well. But it often bled into the personal. This person seemed untouched by it all. Easy to read. At least, that's what she told herself. And she liked what she was reading.  Her hand did not feel their lips press—too soft to combat the numbness. But eyes saw the motion, replicated a warmth on the back of her hand when Metzli met it. When head returned upright, she saw that flash of recognition play out in their eyes. Mirrored in her own mind moments prior. “Likely. Small town. Hard to avoid anyone. Got any one-nighters you can’t place a face to?” Spoken in jest, though that exact situation had occurred to her in the past. Blink. Something stirred in the back of her mind. A something that would solve the puzzle, and she knew it would, and it knew it would. But it stayed just out of reach, on the tip of her tongue. Then it finally fell to the back of her throat. Her head cocked curiously. “Mushrooms?” Tone implying the word may as well had been a nickname for an old friend. 

“I don’t think I’d be able to forget a face like yours,” Metzli said cooly, smiling as bright as a summer’s day in July. “Besides that, I’ve managed to strike out consistently due to everyone being in a damn relationship. No one likes to have fun anymore.” A mocked frown plastered itself on their face, rolling eyes that settled once more on Macleod. 

Their brow arched, “Mushrooms!” This time excitement tethered itself to their voice. Macleod was the woman they grew an innate interest in over something as simple as the internet. “Ah! Yes,” Metzli hands clasped together and gestured in victory upon finding the answer. “I was greatly disappointed that we never got the chance to meet. This’ll do though.”

Space was subtly decreasing between the two, unbeknownst to Metzli, they were leaning in further. They were so much taller, so they naturally had to do so in order to be as close as they wanted to be. Well, as close as was socially appropriate. “You wouldn’t happen to have any on ya?” They asked, narrowing their eyes with playful curiosity. “We could have a little fun right here.” Their left eye winked, with a grin that knew how stupid they were being. It was all for Eilidh’s amusement, just so they could see that smile. 

Another trait of small towns—committed relationships were frequent. Or there was someone else on the mind, yet to be entwined. Eilidh didn’t mind the potential baggage the latter brought. She rarely stayed anywhere long enough for it to cause issue. “Everybody does know everybody. Just gotta know where to look.” She winked. “New in town?” Ding, ding, ding—assumption confirmed. There was the beginnings of another smile at the connection. Seems fate intended them to meet. All obstacles be damned. Like that night. “Right…” Mind flashed to the tree, to the darkness, to the nothing, to the…

…… 

Air grew tight, walls closed in. Eyes tried to focus back—saw the walls were made of fabric instead of dirt. Instincts pricked and snarled. Head struck forward under its thrall, thumping onto the other’s chest. When the two pair of eyes met again, old spark had returned in Eilidh’s. “Like how you think.” Spoken as if the previous action hadn’t transpired. And mind so cloudy, part wondered if it actually had. Her hand dug into a pocket, fishing out the drug of choice. Bits here and there, remnants of a larger pile recently reduced. Another distraction. Bag wiggled, as did her brow. “Got enough for a hit.” Unknowing it may be of use, in those moments alone, her stake was left back at her trailer. But she always carried a blade, strapped securely to a thigh. And knew it well, if the need arose. Until then, she’d enjoy the fun this Metzli could provide. They seemed to be full of it. 

The impact to Metzli’s chest made them exclaim in surprise, “Oof! Ow!” The wounds from the eventful night with Milo made themselves known, making the space grow as they stepped back and gathered themselves. Before doing so, Macleod looked a little frazzled herself, but there wasn’t enough time to dwell on that or their wounds when she pulled out her bag. “Yeah I’m definitely pretty fresh. I’ve only been here eight months.” Eyes darted about the gallery. There were too many people to do anything privately, but they were feeling pretty lively today.  Shoulders rose and fell in a shrug, settling on a decision. 

“You wanna do it now, cariña?” Metzli began to tease, their lips curling into a mischievous grin. Their accent binded to their words, embarrassment showing on their face for mere moments. “We can give these paying customers a real show. A performance piece.” A cold hand brushed against the wall near their painting, leaning sultrily, no longer imposing on Eilidh’s space. 

Eilidh’s mind travelled back to the woods, to that destined spot. But eyes perceived the crowd, the bodies swarming the walls. Mind’s premonition would be left unfulfilled—own body deciding to remain amongst the others. The others so unexpecting of what was running between the two’s thoughts. Of the fun that would be had, a few paces away. Fun for them, at least. Another amused rumbling formed at the idea—compelled her to stay. To let them lose themselves, right then and there. What would be unlocked, in those frozen windows covering every surface? She was excited to know, to see. “Hope you got insurance.” Voice light and playful, but there was a steadiness to her gaze. Implying a hint of truth. Hands worked swiftly to reveal the mushrooms to the stale air. Brittle lilac wanting to break, and it did so gladly as she separated a chunk into two. “Fuck the customers. Just focus on me.” Her piece slipped passed her lips, down throat. Other half remained in her hand. But she offered it to Metzli, almost pressing it on their lips. 

Eyes widened, shock and surprise from Eilidh’s excitement and subsequent approval covered their expression. Her tenacity was unlike anything Metzli had seen before. With no regard for her surroundings, their lips curled into a smile, watching Macleod take her piece. They were really going to do this. Perhaps their impulsivity and lack of thought on the matter was going to rear its ugly head at them later, but they didn’t care. At least, a part of them didn’t. The other, more responsible half that adored the gallery cared a lot. Insurance was something they definitely had, but they couldn’t imagine what damage could be done right now. Not when Macleod was offering their piece to them. 

Silencing that irksome voice, Metzli leaned forward, “The customers aren’t the ones I want to fuck. So I’ll gladly focus on you.” Their voice was low, raspy, and wanting as they ushered the mushroom in Macleod’s fingers to their lips, using their teeth to take it and then standing erect to chew and swallow.

Maybe this would be disastrous, maybe this would be detrimental to their gallery; or maybe, just maybe it was the fun they needed to unwind and feel free for a while. Finally relaxing into the decision, a hand slid up Eilidh’s arm, “You want to give them a show? Bet we can scare them into leaving.” The hand slid back down and brushed away to rest back at their side. A chuckle escaped the confines of their throat, and they pushed away from the wall to stand closer and wait as the mushrooms took effect. 

Brows rose and fell in unison. “Good. Glad we’re on the same page.” Despite attention being placed on that surrounding congregation, eyes did not leave Metzli. Short, airy laugh rushed through. Disturbed a bit of fabric on their suit. “Seems bad for business. But, since you don’t mind.” In the dwindling window of normalcy, Eilidh took a fleeting moment to refamiliarize herself with those glimpses in time. Gaze returned to one that piqued the most interest. And grew irate when others had fallen to its thrall. Hand brushed against Metzli’s arm—as theirs had done to hers. Almost tickling against the skin. But it ended with a hold—teeth flashing—and she led the two of them over to her favored painting. As distance grew short, teeth flashed again. But their intentions were different for these other onlookers—snapping and cracking in a threat. Murmuring amongst themselves, they hurried over to another section of the gallery. Clearly satisfied, she beamed back at Metzli. “Let’s start here.” The smile remained, strong and firm, as a warm trickled down her head. Fell down into her eyes, melting the colors of Metzli’s suit together. 

Watching Macleod snap like a madwoman at the patrons, a breathy giggle surfaced, one that Metzli had never made before. It was unrestricted and high, echoing in their ears as amorphous colors blurred past them. When they came to a halt, the world tilted and a hand grabbed firmly onto Eilidh’s shoulder to keep balance. Another giggle brushed their throat, the sensation a buzz that sent a chill down their spine. 

With their faltering focus back on the Eilidh, the colors on her clothes melded together and hummed so powerfully that it reached the surface of Metzli’s skin. It made their suit jacket and tie grow in weight, a weight they wanted to remove, so they did. Their jacket and tie fell to a heap on the floor and the outside onlookers continued to murmur, furrowing their brows in confusion. Undeterred, their dress shirt became halfway unbuttoned. “Your wish is my command, Macleod.” Fangs greeted her as their mouth formed a toothy grin, eyes glowing red as the excitement peaked. Only Eilidh could see, Metzli’s back faced the patrons. 

Cold lips suddenly pressed against those matching in temperature. Arms wrapped around in a firm embrace. The voices surrounding the two grew louder and more disturbed, followed by one of their employees asking Metzli what they were doing. Breaking away, they said, “New performance piece. Don’t mind too much.”

Her eyes remained transfixed on the painting. Watched as stagnant waters became rapids. As a sudden wind breathed life into dead trees. Fronds turned fingers—reaching out to Eilidh. Passed the frame, into the air. Entwined around her arms, gripping her down into the fixed window. Bursts of colors; bursts of sounds. Drenched in rainbow and symphony. Crash of cymbals carried a familiarity. When she followed that déjà vu, found the source was her own throat. Overcome with giggles—harmonizing into an ensemble. Her hands danced to this music, fluttering by her face. Other hands found her, different from the ones before. Pulled her out instead of in—into an embrace. Mouth found a partner and those giggles reverberated down both throats. Tongue soon followed, over two sets of teeth. Finding its own match, intent on staying.

Until a familiar click.

Mouth and teeth snapped shut, barely missing snapping Metzli’s lip in turn. A sizable crowd had formed, but Eilidh’s eyes easily found the perpetrator. Betrayed by the sheen of camera’s lens. Every spectacle had its memorabilia. Her lips peeled back. Teeth shook under the snarl stampeding out. All things heightened, even anger. One swift step, and she was close enough to grip the camera. One swift tense, and it cracked and snapped under her fingers. Clattering to the floor in unrecognizable bits. 

“Everyone out! Get everyone out, Richard. And go home. Everyone goes home. This is a private performance.” Metzli commanded, seeing how Macleod responded to her picture being taken. It was hard to focus, colors and shapes melding together harmoniously, making their skin vibrate. The customers and employees only saw their side profile, a method they were using to hide their vampiric features. Everything continued to shift in their line of sight. They felt like they were floating, forgetting the small interruption already and pulling Eilidh back into them. Everyone was shuffling out already, fear halting any other captures from being taken. 

Macleod’s features seemed to jitter, a comfortable sight, even bordering on satisfying. “Forget them. The gallery is ours now.�� Metzli pulled her face to lock eyes with her, gently taking her chin and guiding her face. The dance of hums increased, all the paintings joining in on the ensemble to create a euphonious experience.

While Metzli stood obscured, the crowd could not even attempt to ignore Eilidh. Teeth still bared—exposed to air that forced salivation. Dripped down her chin. Mouth turned waterfall, and when she looked down a river had formed at her feet. It gushed out, lapping at the departing crowd. As eyes returned to them—bodies weaving in and out—she threw the remaining chunk of camera in her hand. It meddled with those bodies, lost to that flow. Brought the giggle back to her lips, despite the reasoning lost on her. The sound felt good on her ears, and they hardly noticed when departing footfalls stopped. Alone.

Attentions turned from the emptiness to the beauty beside, gentle touch instructing. But the wild still claimed Eilidh. Gentleness was not returned; she leapt onto Metzli with a hunger. Mouth met them, as mouth did when hungry. But it was with lips instead of teeth. And the world was rainbow again.

[clairecrive]

“Why?” - Alfie Solomons x reader

A/n: I know that I have a lot of requests to do but I'm not very inspired lately and then I've listened to a song and I couldn't stop typing. So that's how this imagine has come into existence. I hope you like it and are not too mad at me.

Inspired by: “Secret love song” by Little Mix

Tag list: @mollybegger-blog​, @deaflikehawkeye​, @br0ck-eddie​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @evelynshelby​, @fandom--0verdose​, @shadow-of-wonder (let me know if you want to be added)

When she had accepted the invite for Tommy’s ball, she didn’t even consider the possibility of meeting Alfie there. He wasn’t the type to go to parties or to dance, or to admit that he actually liked Tommy. Then, much to her surprise, Tommy had mentioned that the Jewish gangster was indeed coming. That had almost made y/n change her answer and stay at home. However, her pride forced her not only to attend the party but also to walk across the hall with her head held high and a polite smile forged on her face. She couldn’t help it when it changed into a genuine one when she spotted the familiar hat and coat hanging on the dresser nor could she deny that she was excited about the prospect of seeing him. It had been so long… But she had to remember that whatever there was between them was gone, Alfie had wanted it and she couldn’t do a thing about it. Her smile gradually disappeared from her face when she remembered their last interaction. Now she was dreading the time she had to actually face him. Ignoring him would arouse suspicion and she didn’t want anyone to know. So she settled to a civil short conversation. Not even that if it was possible.

“Alfie,” nodding, she simply greeted him as good manners required her to do.

“Hello love.” He returned the nod, holding her gaze.

The term of endearment had the same effect on her that it always had but it wasn’t paired with a light smile this time. It felt like someone had punched her in the gut, taking all of her breath away. Hearing the voice of the man she loved and seeing him in front of her after so much time, was a huge relief but at same time gut wrenching. How dare he? She knew that Alfie called almost everyone in this way, but with her, it had another meaning. It must have it because she wasn’t just everyone. No. She was more, she meant so much more to Alfie that he couldn’t call her in any other way. She was the love of his life, no matter how much he wanted to deny it or push her away. Deep down he had always known it, from the first time he had seen her, that time when she was brought to his office, drenched in water from head to toe and looking at him like he held all the answers to her questions. God, that felt like a lifetime ago. So many things had happened and looking at her now, just nodding at him like he was one of her acquaintances like he meant nothing to her, Alfie was trying to pinpoint the exact moment where everything had gone to shit.

Oh, but he knew. He was perfectly aware that the reason she was not standing beside him now but dancing in the arms of another man was entirely his fault. It was him that had refused her after all. That fatal day, the words left his mouth thinking solely at her welfare. If only he had known that those words would only cause inexplicable pain for both of them.

“I don’t understand Alfie. We’ve been living together for almost a year now, we’ve been through thick and thin and now you’re telling me that you don’t want to be with me? I thought you cared about me. After all you’ve done for me…” she voiced her thoughts, confused and rather hurt by the words that just left his mouth.

“Well pet, it’s not that right? It’s just that the situation has changed.”

“Please Alfie, enlighten me as to how it’s changed in a way that prevents you from being with other than you not wanting to.”

“We can’t be together, y/n.” He simply stated, his voice low, his eyebrows creased and his eyes not meeting her eyes. He couldn’t bear it.

“Why can’t we?” She wasn’t going to go down without a fight. Even if it was him that she had to fight.

“I love you, Alfie. Does it not mean something for you?” she confesses softly turning towards him, turning her back to the window she had been looking through.

“I’m tired of this secret relationship we have. I want to hold your hand in the streets, I wanna kiss you when we dance and not pretend that you’re just being a gentleman by dancing with me. I love you so much that I want to shout it on the rooftops so that everyone should know. Why can’t it be like that?” She kept going when she met with nothing but silence on his part.

“Speak Alfie. Say something, anything!” She cried fed up with the cold exterior her had put up, her heart breaking more and more with every passing second, unaware of the inner turmoil that was taking place between Alfie’s heart and mind. Only he and God knew how much he wanted to take her into his arms and kiss her tears away in that moment. But he couldn’t, so he didn’t, allowing his silence to draw an endless pit between them.

When had Alfie become one of those men that fall into clichè traps as he had? “I’m not good enough for you”, “You deserve better” are some shitty lines that he had always hated. He wasn’t selfless for god’s sake. He was a ruthless gangster. When the fuck had he become such a soft-hearted bastard?

But again, he knew the answer. It was her. It was since his eyes had first fallen onto her shivering form that he had felt a shift inside him. It was nonreversible. God knows how much he had tried to go back, but he couldn’t. There’s the simplicity of it. Every person that comes into your life has been put into your path for a reason and for the time that they’re in your life you’re going to influence each other inevitably. Alfie knew that. And to be fair, right now looking at her fair form, swirling around the ballroom, he couldn’t seem to find in himself to wish that everything could go back to when she wasn’t part of his life. Fuck, she made everything better. That sounded cheesy as hell and Alfie hated the effect she had on him. However, he hated even more that he wasn’t with her now. Fuck his bad hip and the fact that he was a terrible dancer. He’d put himself through the pain and public embarrassment just to see her smile and look into her eyes as they lit with happiness. He had witnessed the precious moment once and getting rid of the memory was something Alfie couldn’t put himself to do.

“Why are you smiling pet, mh, are you amused by my dancing skills?” Alfie asked when looking down he noticed her wide smile.

“Of course I am, never saw a man dance better than you, Mr Solomons.” She joked with a cheeky hint in her eyes.

“Are taking the piss at me, love?” He feigned offence with a fake threatening tone.

“I would never, sir.” She answered amused, knowing all about Alfie’s kink.

“Cheeky minx.” He whispers bumping his nose with hers, drawn in by those sparkling eyes. Before he let himself indulge too much into his desires, he became aware of the countless set of eyes on his back and straightening his posture, he took a step back clearing his voice, putting an acceptable amount of distance between them again. If he noticed how her smile fell and her eyes lost their spark he didn’t let him show and she just tried her best to not let her disappointment show through her face.

Y/n was painfully aware of Alfie’s eyes on her while she was dancing with Peter. She knew that it won’t be easy for neither of them to face the other. The last time they spoke was when he ended things between them after all. He wasn’t quite over it, nor him and by the way Alfie tensed when she walked past him, she figured that he hadn’t quite moved on either. Yes, he had come to the party unaccompanied but it was his fault that they hadn’t gone together in the first place, so y/n didn’t feel guilty by dancing with Peter. Uneasy yes. She saw the lamp of recognition and joy shift into one of hurt that flashed into Alfie’s eyes when he spotted her and then Peter standing beside her. But if he was smart enough, and she knew that he was, he would notice the absolute lack of affection and warmth in her eyes whenever they would land on her date. There was no point in pretending that there was something going on between them and in fact she hadn’t, she had always been the worse at lying. As a matter of fact, she had been honest from the beginning with Peter as to where her heart laid. However, she did hope that seeing her with another man would arise something out of Alfie. Anything that showed her that he cared about her. That there was still a chance for them.

The feeling of his eyes never leaving her form was certainly a good sign, or she hoped it was. To be honest, y/n had often thought about going back to him during the weeks that they had been apart. But she couldn’t. She was tired of living love the way Alfie had forced her to. She wanted more and she desperately wanted it with Alfie. It seems though that destiny had other plans for them. Why she couldn’t be his and he hers, she still couldn’t understand. To her it was really easy: she was already his. Simply as that. If only he knew. Or maybe he knew and didn’t care. She hoped that by the end of this dance she’d know the answer.

[just-mirko]

lavender petals - part 1

MASTERLIST

Mirko x Reader

Angst, Slow-ish burn, fluff, 

WC: 4.1K

MANGA SPOILERS  IN LATER PARTS

  A steady and constant roll of tapping continued outside

where the rain poured down in fleets of cold water. The little drops all

together sounded like thousands of typewriters; the tiny stamps pressing fresh

ink stains into parchment. The storm did not only darken the sky but slowly,

the concrete was dampened into a charcoal shade and the glass windows collected condensation. The scent of petrichor had not reached where I was, but the

second I stepped outside I could already feel it overtaking my senses. have caused me to be

upset, and make me curse the heavens, but today, the rain started just as the

the shop was about to close, only 30 minutes till I would lock the doors and turn

around the little double-sided sign; switching it to “welcome” to “come back

later. I could not anticipate any customers would actively rush to my store in

the terrible weather, so I accepted it as an easy break where I could stay inside

and relax with warm herbal tea. 

            My shoes squeaked beneath me when I turned back to the

service counter. Aromas and floral notes were everywhere I stepped. Even if you

stood still, they still changed. orchids, roses, daisies, and violets all

dancing together in harmony. 

            Once I reached behind the counter, I could see every

corner of the shop in its array of colors that seemed duller than usual from

the lack of sunlight. Nonetheless, they still stood out against the dull pots

and glass vases.  

            ‘I should be done for the day’ I thought to

myself, already having swept the floor, put out the new flowers, and clipped

the old ones before the storm arrived. An overdramatized sigh passed my lips

when I went to sit at the stool next to the register. 

            Sitting behind the register was always slightly

inconvenient, because blocking my view of the entrance to the store was a

large, and I mean large, bouquet of fresh lavender sprigs. They were normally

used as filler plants but had just come in today and I still could not decide

what to do with them. Additionally, I lacked a new arrangement to add them too,

so they were left out to stand alone.

            By far they were the most prominent in the store. Their

sized rivaled all the large wedding table pieces we had. And the smell, though

calming, gave me a headache after being with them all day. 

            It is not like anyone would buy them either. They were not

as easy on the eye as a rose, three times as expensive, and once again,

typically used as filler flowers. 

            I settled on scrolling on my phone to distract myself

from thinking about what to do with them. I did not want to wait too long to

sell them lest they wilt.  

            ‘Oh look, my webtoons updated.’

            Fifteen-minutes passed quickly and mindlessly. Only 15

minutes till I could lock up and go home. The storm still had not relented, and

now, the rain was accompanied by large clashes of thunder and lightning. 

            These days life was quite simple. It was not exceptional

nor terrible, but a mediocre and peaceful existence that brought me the chance

to do what I loved. I had friends I visited occasionally, a small business that

was doing well with the white day just around the corner (an eastern type of

valentine’s day).  But no matter how many

flowers I had, it wouldn’t quell the little part of my heart longing for

something more. 

            “CLASH”

            The lightning what getting closer outside. It got louder

and louder, making me jump in my seat a little. 

            “CLASH”

            The rain slammed into the ground, but something else was

happening as well. Something in the background of sorts. 

            “CRASH”

            A resonating bang that sounded nothing like lightning

erupted nearby. A car alarm blared as well. 

            ‘Could it be a villain?’ I asked myself as I look

over the purple blossoms to see if I could see what was going on from outside

my window. Alas, it must have been a street down. 

            ‘Why would they fight in this type of weather though?’

Villain activity has spiked rapidly in the last few weeks as the League of

Villains had risen to power than out of nowhere disappeared without a trace. Not

to mention the capture of stain had encouraged many of the morally grey

antagonists to step out of the shadows in pursuit of their own type of justice.

Everyone had their own definition. 

            I tried to stay up to date on villain activity but so

much was constantly happening. Three times a week we got a new story. In the

beginning, the attacks seemed petty and selfish. Things like; “3 criminals rob a

local bank” or “Enraged fire-type quirk user burns down workplace” but today,

they were more organized, harder to stop. All the villains were working towards

a greater goal that was easier to see. 

            A little bit ago, one of the most popular quirks inclusive

department’s CEO joined the LOV after an all-out fight. Many were injured. It

was practically a bloodbath. Citizens remember seeing ice and blue fire merge

in giant tornados in the sky. The entire building disintegrated without a

trace. A witness with still in shock commented that she saw a UA student emerging

from the rubble, but that claim was shut down instantly by that student’s very

own teacher. 

            Unease was everywhere. People even began to stop trusting

figures of authority out of fear they might not be who they said. I was not a

target to any kind of villain myself, but who knows if I could become just

another statistic on the news.

            Police sirens came into earshot. 

            I guess it was a criminal after all. Soon enough I would

be able to find a nice little article online detailing everything that happened

with a cover image of an unscathed hero smiling at the camera as if all were

well. How they tried to convince us that all was wel-

            The chime of bells interrupted my thoughts when someone

came through the store door, very close to closing time. 

            When I looked up at them, I completely froze, unknowing

of what to do say, even think. 

            Before me stood… Mirko? Mirko. Mirko the Rabbit Hero. The

number #4 hero. The best female hero. And she was- Injured? 

            She stood with her shoulders rolled back but she was

panting heavily. Her platinum hair dripped water onto the pristine checkerboard

floors I just mopped. Across her, the skin on one of her shoulders was a crimson

slash. The blood that came from it dripped partially into her hair, staining it

slightly; and partially mixed with the water she was absolutely drenched in. She

looked cold in the light hero gear. 

            In her weak state, she still held an air of strength. When

I looked up in obvious shock at her condition, I was met with piercing red eyes

and a smile I would describe as manic on anyone else. 

            “C-can I help you—are you okay?” I stumble out when I

started to panic, realizing that she just fought the cause of all the racket

down the street.         

            My response only looked to entertain her, and she smiled

wider chuckled then pulled her hair over one shoulder: twisting it to ring out

the excess water (and blood).

            “Yea, you do sell flowers, right?” She said. We were

obviously on different pages. She seemed completely relaxed as she was still

bleeding a watered-down red puddle onto the floor. Meanwhile, I was seriously

concerned about her health. Online, I simply assumed that every pro-hero held a

façade. That they were not as cocky, brave, or positive as they seemed once the

cameras were cut. This though was a spitting image of every picture of her I

had seen. Despite that, nothing could have prepared me for this in person-encounter.

            “Y-yes I sell flowers” 

            I frantically scanned across the store for something for

my eyes to latch onto. My fingertips pressed hard against the side of the

resister to the point where my fingertips were turning white and my knuckles

began to cramp. 

            Mirko walked forward. Despite her injuries, she did not

have any limp and strolled casually over to some of the display stands

near the front window. I fidgeted with my finger while I stumbled over to where

she was. Her gaze we currently focused on some white lilies, though she soon

switched to some yellow roses. 

            “What is the, um, the occasion- For the flowers?” The

words tumbled out of my mouth. They felt out of order and out of place. Seeing a

hero in public is a strange thing. As amazing as they are, you always suspect

that there is an underlying threat of danger. You are both drawn to them yet

repelled by the hint. It's always ‘Why would a hero be here.” That wasn’t

the occasion now though. She was just- here for flowers? She was definitely just

off from work and needed a few band-aids; at most, stitches. My mind still had a

rough time thinking over why she so casual. I hoped this doesn’t happen often

for her. 

            Mirko’s fingers paused when she traced the outline of an

imported lily. 

            “A friend of mine got his ass beat up by a walking flamethrower”

The way she said that, so lightheartedly, with a slight smirk on her face, but

sadness in her eyes confused me. 

            “Is he a hero too?” I inquired; taken aback by the lack

of filter.  It had nothing to do with the

flowers, but my curiosity got the best of me. 

            “Hawks.” She shortly stated before turning back towards

me.

            A look of recognition must have crossed my face as she did

not explain any further and just continued. 

            “So…” She crossed her hands over her chest and looked up

towards me (we using Mirko’s canon height today cause she short short lol).  

            “What flowers would be best for ‘get better idiot’” Her

hair was still disheveled and soaking wet but the ethereal glow the rain seemed

to give her face made me want anything but eye contact. I shouldn’t really get

flustered so easily, but when a celebrity built like a Greek goddess steps into

your shop looking like she’s straight out of war…  

            “Well, I wouldn’t be able to make any custom arrangements

today because I’m closing-“I looked down at my watch for the time. “5 minutes

ago, but we have many premade sets and custom vases if you’re interested?”

            I tried to seem chipper and avert my gaze from her hair,

bleeding shoulder, and foot that was insistently tapping on the wet floor, but

in between each word I stole a glace that did not go unnoticed. 

            “That’s okay, I’m fine with a pre-made bouquet.” I

fiddled with my thumbs once more. She was really giving me nothing to work

with. 

            “Any flowers in specific you like?” I asked, grasping for

straws. Mirko’s expression was perfectly neutral and ambiguous. Even if she

gave me a color, I could work off that, but all I had was a name and extra

mopping to do. 

            ‘I wonder if blood will stain my tile’

            What she said next seemed to fit with the personality I

was slowly assembling her. 

            “You guess.” And with that, she turned to look at more

bouquets and potted plants that lined the shelves. 

            The lavender! I thought, finally thinking I had found a

way to get rid of them but realized that may not be well suited as a get well

soon gift. 

            Hawks. Hawks. Hawks. The bird hero. The bird men. Red

feathers, right? 

            Because of the hero’s color pallet, per

se, I was drawn to red roses and yellow daisies, maybe some red and white

lilies. I found an arrangement I thought fit on one of the shelves next to a

window, where it was still raining outside. I carefully picked the flowers up;

their silky petals caressed my hand. Two petals floated down onto the floor as

I relocated them back to the assembly station. 

            “Would you like a vase with this?” I questioned. Her ears

perked towards me, shocking me in the slightest. Of course, it was not unusual,

but with how she seemed to hear me from across the room without turning her

head made me fear that she would hear my heartbeat racing in my chest. This was

a hero. A real-life hero. God, I hope I do not mess this up. 

            “Mmmhnn,” She said, inflecting that meant yes. I walked

near a shelf where we stored them and looked at the variety of glass, plastic,

and even porcelain vases reserved for special occasions. My eye was stuck on a

red one that caught the soft lighting of the store beautifully. I reached up to

grab it and held the cool glass in my hand. With the sleeve of my jacket, I

began to brush off some of the dust, ignoring the mark it left.

            “Ooh, I like that one” I heard from behind me. Quite

startled I jumped, and the vase left my hand, seconds from crashing into the

floor. Before I could blink, Mirko had caught it agilely. 

            “The color is nice,” She said as she turned it over in her

hands, clearly pleased with having shaken me. 

            Honestly, the banter was a nice break from today. I guess

it would not hurt to lighten up a little. 

            “Yea,” I said with a gentle smile. 

            I had almost finished totaling her order and was putting

the flowers in the box to protect from the rain when I looked over at Mirko and

saw her quite intrigued by the lavender practically overtaking my desk. 

            “We just got that lavender in! It's fresh and quite relaxing.”

I hummed to myself, pleased with the wrapping I did on Hawk’s bouquet.

            “How much for them?” She asked turning to me inquisitively.

            “Well lavender isn’t normally sold alone but that’s about

10 arrangements worth” I said pointing to the sheer number of flowers. Upon

the counter, they were more than two feet tall. 

            “So?” She said, resting her elbows upon the table and leaning

in to smell the lavender even more. The ivory ears atop her head sloped

downwards a little more reminding me of a little puppy when they got pet. An

obvious show of their aromatic effects. 

            “Two-hundred, though I could definitely get you a smaller

amount if you would like, they’re sold twenty per bundle just because of how

hard they are to transport and a how delicate they te-“

            “I’ll take them all,” She said with an aggressive smile

and firm shake of her head. There was a switch in her tone like she suddenly

decided she revealed too much of herself to the general public. I did not like

thinking that though. That she saw me as the public. Everyone wants to be

special sometimes.  

            “How was errr- work today?” I asked, clearly insinuating

my concern for her condition.

            A small shadow passed over her face. Her eyes got a

little darker and the corners of her mouth turned down before her typical passionately

a confident smile came back.

            “Nothing I can’t handle” Those smug words were

accompanied by a flourished wink that was embellished her white eyelashes.

            “I heard a crash nearby. Was there a villain?” This time

she did not hesitate to answer. 

            She finished paying and gave me an address to deliver

them to tomorrow. One to a hospital, and one to a home address. I expected a

PO box and assumed her address was not something she just gave away, but that was

not the only thing I was warmly excited about. Instead of signing “Mirko” her

formal hero title on the receipt, She signed her real name, Rumi Usagiyama.

             ---

            The weather was much more considerate this morning. When I

awoke, golden rays filtered light through my lashes into my eyes. The faint

sound of birds chirping and bustling people in the city below faintly reached my

ears. 

            I lived right above my flower shop, making my commute to work

 conveniently. I chose to dress a little bit nicer today, opting for a cream-colored

turtleneck and dark washed jeans instead of my normal gardening attire. Spring

was right around the corner in Musutafu Japan. Winter was leaving and the city

was in the awkward middle state where it's too cold to wear spring clothes but

too sunny to stay in jackets. 

            Since yesterday was Saturday, I had today off, kinda. I

just had a few flower deliveries to complete before I could go back home and lay

on the couch eating watermelon sour patch kids (ichor itself) and reading

terribly done 9k fanfics online. (Wow! Our reader!! Is super!!! Self!!!!

Aware!!!!!) 

            My brain had completely blocked out everything that

happened last night, so when I checked my order list and saw Rumi

written in neat handwriting, my confusion was immense. 

            ‘So, It wasn’t a dream then…’’ huh.”

            I walked downstairs into my store. I saw a few

schoolchildren peeking in the dark windows since there were no lights on to look

at the flowers. I waved to them and then chuckled to myself when they left tiny

little handprints on the glass. Tall buildings could be seen across. A café, a

tattoo shop, a little library, and many small businesses that were nestled right

in the center of town where they got lots of attention. Around the back exist to

the stores were where most of the employees parked. My friend and co-worker had

called in sick this weekend, so it meant I had to do all the deliveries myself.

            I went over to the storage room. A wave of cold rushed

over me and sent tingles down my entire body. This was always kept cold to keep

the flowers alive longer, but always hated retrieving boxes from there. 

            I steadily grabbed the lavender-filled box and stacked

Hawk’s arrangement box on top of it. The white cardboard stood so tall in front

of me when I held them I could barely see when I walked out the back door and

over to my car where I nearly dropped them loading them into my car’s trunk. 

            I clumsily got into the driver’s seat and started the

engine to head to the first address. Hawk’s hospital. Right in the center of

town, it was only 10 minutes when you accounted for traffic.             

            The hospital was the nicest in Mafatsu, with white pillars

and balconies on some patient's rooms. Only the best for heroes. When I got out

of my car and drew near, the building felt like it was swallowing me whole in

its large size. 

            My soft footsteps appeared insignificant with prestigious

doctors and nurses bustling around in choreographed chaos. When I got to the reception

area, a pink-haired nurse with a kind smile greeted me cheerfully. 

            “Hello! How can I help you today?” She began typing before

I even said anything. Maybe a prediction quirk. 

            “Hey, I’m here to drop off flowers from Mirko for Hawks?”

            She nodded in understanding and scanned her eyes over my

body, then the box I was holding, all while typing fluidly into a computer. Finally,

her gaze broke and she looked down at a small printer that made a small sticker

with the words visitor pass in bolded font. 

            “He will be on the top floor, level 60 in room 219. If he

isn’t in his room, just call a nurse with the pager in there, he’s been getting

out a lot recently.” She rolled her eyes in annoyance. 

            “He really just wants to get back to work but whenever he

flies he leaves a trail of blood and feather in his path”

 Her hair swished when she leaned over to give

me the papery sticker. Her fingertips brushed against my palm for a second

longer than platonic before she went back and waved goodbye to me. Her cheeks were tinted slightly pink.

            The encounter made my heart rush but that might just because

it’s the first romantic-ish thing that has happened to me in a while. I mean

she was pretty- but we scarcely talked. My palm still tingled where our hands

touched though. I was so distracted I did not notice when I found myself in Hawk’s

room. 

            I had never delivered anything to a hero before. Should I

just drop them in and leave? My hand rested atop the doorknob questioning how

to do this. The fluorescent hospital lights desaturated everything including my

ability to make cohesive thoughts. 

            Just as I opened the door, I heard a shattering sound,

something collapsing, and then 

            “Wait no shit-“Another thing fell to the ground. “-fuck” I

carefully opened the door. To see Hawk’s the pro hero, clutching his side with

one hand, and holding a sideways IV drip in one hand, but the fluid bag itself

was on the floor, along with some kind of glass and a medical device I couldn’t

identify from the various dents and scratches on it. It did not look like he

noticed me yet, he was much too preoccupied. 

            “Hey should-“ 

            “AH!” He yelled turning towards me. I couldn’t flinch

fast enough before three-foot-long red feathers with murderous intent came

spearing towards my head. Within that instant in closed my eyes prepared to be

dead but when I opened them up, the feathers were hovering just centimeters

away from my skull.

            I shocked me that I was still holding the flower box when

I checked. My eyes were wide as I stood still, jaw open, not a single breath

leaving my mouth. 

            “Are you a new nurse or something?” The feathers remained

there. I gulped before answering, my body felt light, flight, or fight already taking

place. 

            “I’m a- a florist.” I gestured down at the box with my

logo on it, and he seemed to relax a little bit. 

            “Oh.” He replied and the feathers returned to beside him.

He tried to make the IV drip stand back up again, but in a futile attempt he

gave up, just letting it fall to the group beside the other tools. He turned away

from me.

            ‘He is obviously in pain right now’ He faced away just

to hide the scowl and how much he was now clutching his side. 

            He looked over his shoulder “Who sent you?”

            “Mirko” I responded relieve that he was no longer about

to kill me. 

            “Where should I leave the flowers?” 

            “The table next to my bed” I stepped over there. An

assortment of papers where there is messy handwriting that I had no place in

reading. Nonetheless, I caught the words “Touya.” Too bad I didn’t know any Touyas.

I sat the box down and opened it up.

            Luckily with everything that went on, I didn’t destroy any

of the blooms. 

            “Did Mirko say anything about me?” He questioned quickly.

As much as he tried to seem tough, he valued her opinion very much. 

            “Get well soon and all of that, nothing much, she was too

busy teasing me, you know?”

            “Mirko was? Teasing you?” His eyebrows furrowed in confusion

before settling into a knowing look. 

            “Ohhhh” He winked. 

            “No no, it's nothing like this I promise I just met her.” 

            “Mmmn k” He didn’t believe me in the slightest. 

            “Just watch out she packs a punch” 

            Hawks walked over to where the flowers were and observed

the arrangement. He had a particular fondness for the red lilies, the same ones

that Mirko liked. He talks about her punch though reminded me of the crashes

and villain attack last night.

            “I hope she’s okay, she seemed pretty beat up last night

after the battle.” 

            “Eh, she recovers inhumanly quick. Something to do with the

rabbit in her.”

            He looks over to me and paused. 

            “What’s your name?”

            “(Y/N)” 

            “(Y/N Hmmm) He mumbled to himself like he was getting

used to the way it sounded. 

            “I can’t imagine this will be our last encounter (Y/N),

It was nice to meet you.”

            I smiled graciously and sighed. 

            “Nice to meet you too.”

[dragonshost]

Day 58: JennyLu

I have no excuses for this one.  It’s just pure, unadulterated wish fulfillment.  In my defense, who wouldn’t like to be carried in a strong female mechanic’s arms?  I am only human.

On FFN - link

On AO3 - link

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Armada Day 58: Missing The Train Jenny x Lucy

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"I can't believe I overslept!" Lucy panted, her feet pounding the cobblestones as she sprinted through the streets of Crocus. "I'm gonna miss my train!" Thankfully it was early enough that most of the residents were still at home in their warm beds, and the rest of the visiting guilds weren't in as big of a rush to vacate the city as Lucy was. Or maybe they had just all managed to awaken in time and weren't running pell-mell in the semi-dark down dew-slickened cobblestone roads.

Which proved to be slicker than she had initially assumed, her foot suddenly sliding out from under her. A screech erupted from her lips as she crashed to the ground, landing strangely on her arm. It throbbed where her shoulder hit the cobblestone, and her ankle burned. Fantastic. Even if it was nothing serious, there was no way Lucy was going to be able to make her train after all. Not at the pace her new injuries would force her to adopt.

Using her good arm, Lucy pushed herself into a sitting position. She sighed as she saw the state of her clothes. The road wasn't exactly clean by any means, and the morning dew had turned the grime into mud. Hopefully it was early enough that no one had witnessed the spectacle she'd made of herself.

Well, sitting in the middle of the street wasn't going to get her anywhere fast. With a groan, Lucy gathered her legs under her and made the attempt to stand. Another yelp burst from her lips as pain shot up her leg and she fell back to the ground. Her vision clouded up with bright flashes of light, she furiously blinked back rising tears. "It's not that bad," Lucy wheezed under breath. "One more try." Once again she tried to stand up, only for the pain to rush upwards once more. This time she was ready for it, though, and although a whimper did escape her throat, she managed to stand up. "There. I've had worse."

Determined to make it the train station - maybe she could exchange her ticket for a later one - Lucy hobbled a few steps forward. Greatly favoring her leg, she made it about ten paces from where she initially fell before she called the endeavor quits. Lucy wasn't sure if it was because the injury was worse than she thought, or if she was just used to Wendy healing her all the time, but holy stars above did it hurt. And a headache was starting to bloom in her skull, probably from gritting her teeth too hard and too long. Spotting a bench, Lucy eked out a few more steps from her injured leg before collapsing onto it.

Lucy panted heavily, feeling more cold water seeping into her behind from the wet bench. Wasn't it already July? Why was everything so wet? Exasperation made her burgeoning migraine even worse. Shaking her head, she tried to clear it, only to make the pounding worse. Fantastic. Absolutely fantas-

"Are you alright?" a sweet voice asked, startling Lucy so badly she nearly fell off the bench. Great. Now her chest hurt, too. Adrenaline sparking like lightning in her veins, Lucy twisted to see who had addressed her.

It was a tall woman, with blonde curly hair pulled into a tight ponytail at the top of her head. "Sorry to startle you," the stranger apologized. The expression on the woman's face was warm... unlike her clothing. A light purple sports bra and matching spandex shorts showed off the woman's many assets - her long legs, heavy bust, and magnificent abs.

Realizing she was staring, Lucy felt her ears burn despite the other woman not pointing it out in the slightest. "No, it's okay," she said. "And um... I'm fine."

The other woman gave Lucy a pointed look. "Your ankle looks too red to be 'fine.'"

The heat from Lucy's ears crawled its way over to her cheeks. "I... might have taken a bit of a tumble," she admitted. Was it really that red? Lucy peered down at it. Now that she looked a little closer, it did seem to be swelling spectacularly.

"Mind if I take a seat?" the woman asked, though she had already moved to do so without waiting for Lucy's response.

"Wait-" Lucy tried to warn her, but wasn't swift enough.

Surprise danced across the other woman's face as cold water no doubt sank into her butt as well.

"Sorry," Lucy mumbled. "I was about to warn you, I promise."

The woman let out a light laugh. "Don't worry about it - I should have watched where I sat." She gestured at Lucy's leg. "Is it alright if I take a closer look?"

Lucy's nodded minutely, and the woman gently raised Lucy's leg to her lap. "At first glance, I'd say it's sprained." Then she frowned. "How long ago did this happen?"

Lucy gave her a half-shrug. "Just a couple minutes ago? I was running, and I slipped and fell." Now that she was looking more properly, the woman seemed vaguely familiar to Lucy, and the guild mark on her arm even more so - Blue Pegasus. Lucy wracked her brain tried to put a name to the woman's face but came up empty.

Frown deepening, the Blue Pegasus mage laid cool fingers on the joint. "Does this hurt?" She prodded it gently. When Lucy hissed in pain, she withdrew her hands. "Please tell me you did not try to walk on this."

Sweat ran down Lucy's neck. Whether it was from the pain, the sheer hotness of the woman touching her, or from the warning tone in the woman's voice she wasn't immediately certain. "Um... yes...?" she answered tentatively. Lucy pointed down the street. "Just over there."

The woman stared at her long and hard, and Lucy withered a bit under the harsh gaze. "Is that... bad?" she ventured.

She shook her head slightly. "Yeah, it is, but mostly I just can't believe you managed to get that far with a broken ankle."

"Awesome," wheezed Lucy. No wonder it had hurt so much. "So I'm definitely not making it to the train station. At all."

"Not on this foot, you're not," the woman confirmed. "Can I help you to your guild's inn?" At Lucy's surprised expression, the woman smiled slightly. "I don't forget a face. And your guild mark is very lovely. Your guild has a healer, right?

Lucy held her marked hand close to her chest and tried to calm her raging heartbeat. "Yeah, but she's probably already left on the train that I've probably just missed." Why had Makarov booked her team such an early train?! You'd think that after a dragon invasion and a midnight ball that a girl would be allowed a decent night's sleep, but apparently not! And more to the point, how was it that the rest of her team had managed to make it and hadn't even spared a thought about whether she was coming or not?! It was a role reversal that Lucy definitely did not care for.

"No worries. I think Sherry from Lamia Scale will be at my guild's inn," the woman offered. "And her cousin is a healing mage as well. We'll ask them for help." Gently, she lowered Lucy's leg off her lap and onto the ground. "Here, I'll help you walk."

Accepting the offer, Lucy allowed the other woman to hook an arm around her, only to bite back another yelp of pain as the woman chose the wrong shoulder.

"...Did you hurt this shoulder, too?" the woman questioned, lowering Lucy back onto the bench.

Lucy nodded, furiously trying not to cry. "Yeah. I landed on it. I think it's just wrenched, though."

The other mage contemplated the problem for a moment. Then she shrugged. "Guess it's a princess carry, then."

"...What-wait whoa!" Lucy suddenly found herself airborne, supported only by the other woman's strong arms, and her face eye-level with her impressive chest. "Y-you don't have to carry me!" she squawked in protest, heat consuming her entire face down to the tip of her nose. The tall amazon was carrying her. Princess-style. Holy stars above.

"Don't worry about it," the woman stated, already walking down the road. "You're not heavy, and my guild is just up there."

Lucy clammed up at that, and tried to keep her eyes to herself. Which proved to be too difficult, so instead she just looked up at her savior's face. The Blue Pegasus mage was beautiful, but not wearing any makeup that Lucy could see. Which made sense for an early morning run. There was a slight smattering of freckles across her nose that Lucy found to be incredibly cute, and her eyes were a very pretty light blue.

True to her word, it was a brief journey to the inn Blue Pegasus was using for the duration of the Grand Magic Games. The older woman shouldered the door open with ease.

Only to find the both of them swiftly swarmed by concerned guild members.

"Lucy!" Hibiki Lates exclaimed in immediate recognition, his face bright with genuine delight. "What brings you here? Looking for a bit of fun?"

"H-Hello, Hibiki," Lucy greeted awkwardly. Did the man not notice that his guildmate had her in a princess carry, or what?

"Have you come to join our guild instead, Big Sister?" Eve questioned, blatantly ignoring the fact that he was now older than Lucy.

"I-idiot!" Ren chided Eve, flushing heavily under his tan. "Though I... can't say I would mind if... the lady... came around more often..."

"Some room, please, boys," the woman told them. "As you can see, she's hurt her leg. Ren, can you get Sherry to bring Chelia over? This lady needs some healing."

"Oh, of course. Be right back." The man left for the stairs, confirming the suspicion that his fiancée had indeed spent the night.

Eve also backed down willingly, but Hibiki pouted and remained where he was. "Are you sure you don't need any assistance...?"

"I'm sure she doesn't need your help to change her clothes, Hibiki," the woman said with a pointed look at him. "Let Sherry and Chelia know that she'll be in my room."

Hibiki sighed, and reluctantly stood out of the woman's way. "Sure thing, Jenny."

Wait, Jenny?

The name through Lucy for a loop, and her gaze returned firmly to the model's face. No wonder she had looked familiar to Lucy. Makeup made a scary amount of difference sometimes. Not that Jenny wasn't already gorgeous without it, though.

Lucy gave Hibiki a short wave as Jenny passed him by.

"Visit with us a bit before you leave!" Hibiki urged. "It'll be good to catch up!"

"I'll try."

"You and Hibiki know each other?" Jenny questioned, curious. "Were you a thing in the past?"

Lucy coughed and spluttered at the mere thought of it. "No!" she said, emphatically waving her hand. "I was just a part of the Oracion Seis suppression team from Fairy Tail is all, so I met the Trimens there. We didn't even talk all that much. He's just... uh..." Lucy let out another cough, though this one was born from embarrassment. "They're all just super... friendly."

"Super flirty, you mean. Sorry, it comes with being a member of this guild." Jenny paused in front of a door. "Can you open this for me?"

Reaching out, Lucy turned the door knob, gaining them entrance into the room. "You don't lock your room?"

"The boys know better than to touch my stuff without permission... and so do the women."

Lucy repressed a shudder. It had been brief, but she had seen Jenny's battle form during the Grad Magic Games. And now that she had been carried by said woman for more than a block... yeah, Jenny was not someone to mess with if you weren't as powerful as Mirajane.

Speaking of which... Jenny was nothing like how she'd come across during the tournament - either as a guest or a participant. Was it like the Trimens? A stage persona expected of a member of Blue Pegasus?

Jenny set her down on her bed. "Let me get you something to change into..." She trailed off as she headed for the room's closet. She briefly thumbed through its contents before her face lit up. "Ah ha," she declared as she found what she was looking for. "Luckily for you, I always pack a couple extra sets of clothes, just in case." Turning back, Jenny walked over and handed them to Lucy. "I hope you don't mind that they're my maintenance clothes."

"No, no!" Lucy vehemently protested. "I don't mind at all! I'm just super grateful you're lending me anything at all! Thank you, you've been so nice to me! Honestly, I'm not sure how I can pay you back."

A smirk crawled its way onto Jenny's face. "No, not at all. Just knowing that I've been of help to one of Mirajane's guild mates is enough of a reward for me." Malice dripped off the name of her former opponent.

...Okay, maybe it wasn't entirely a stage persona. Was this part of some elaborate plot to get back at Mirajane for the bet? Was Lucy in danger?

"I'll be right back with an ice pack and some water," Jenny announced, heading for the door. "Be right back."

Lucy choked on her own spit as she caught a glimpse of the humongous wet spot across the back of Jenny's tight shorts as the woman departed.

...No, she was definitely not in danger, she decided. Not from a woman that had willingly sat in cold water for her and had even lent Lucy her own clothes to wear. Lucy's clothes had probably gotten Jenny fairly dirty as well.

Lucy held the soft, off-white and well-worn shirt up to her nose. It smelled of laundry detergent, with a faint trace of oil from the black stains that marred. The old jeans were much the same, with splashes of paint across the thighs and calves of the fabric.

Surprising, just like their owner was proving to be.

Maybe Lucy would take up Hibiki's offer to hang around for a bit after she was healed up, and find out much more about the real Jenny Realight.

[xialing-gf]

rainbows and rompers

summary: the chronicles of carol and wearing different colored clothing (week 23 of my 30 weeks of prompts challenge: rainbow clothing)

read on ao3!

wc: 1580

Many people often ask you if your parents are fashion designers because you have always been obsessed with clothing ever since you were young. Your parents aren’t fashion designers so you never really know how to explain why you grew with an interest in clothing. Somewhere very early on in your childhood, you just started picking out what outfits you wanted to wear to school and eventually, your parents started taking you to clothing stores so you could choose what clothes you wanted to wear. 

This probably connects to why you’re so independent today. Your ability to determine what exactly you wanted seems to stem from the choices you made about your clothing. 

Your independence and love for fashion drove you to decide to pursue the career of a fashion designer. Your parents didn’t want you to dive into the world of design without experience so you chose to study fashion design at a university in New York, which would definitely help you with your entrance into the fashion industry.

While New York is known for being a prominent center for the fashion industry, it is also known for its frequent encounters with extraterrestrial life. For some reason, you didn’t consider this fact when choosing to study in New York and only remembered this when you witnessed an alien attack firsthand.

It was a normal day in New York and you were walking down the street with your earbuds in. The chilly fall weather couldn’t bite your skin through the layers you wore to protect yourself from the cold. The heat from the cup of coffee you held between your hands seeped through your gloves, warming your palms and fingers. You glanced around you as you took a sip from your cup of coffee, scrutinizing the outfits of everybody around you.

So far, there were only a couple of intriguing outfits you had seen in your few weeks spent in New York that inspired you to create a look based on it. You were eager to see if anybody around you would be the next to inspire you but before you could get a proper look at a mildly interesting coat somebody was wearing, a chunk of a building fell off and landed right next to you. Fortunately, it didn’t hit anybody but naturally, it caused people to panic, scream, and run away. 

Confused, you glanced up at the sky wondering why part of a building suddenly fell off and almost killed a crowd of unsuspecting citizens. Then, you saw green laser beams in the air and you didn’t bother to look twice before running. You had no idea what was going on but you knew that whatever was up in the sky was definitely not human. As you sprinted down the sidewalk to get to safety, you didn’t consider looking up to make sure that there wouldn’t be another part of the building that could fall down so you had no idea a chunk of the roof was falling towards your head until you heard somebody shout, “Look out!” 

When you looked up and saw the giant mass fall straight towards your face, you were certain you were doomed so you instinctively crouched down into a protective ball with your hands on your head, hoping to somehow lessen the damage. You shut your eyes, bracing for impact, but nothing hit. 

You opened your eyes to see a woman lifting the mass away from your head with both her hands. She had beautiful golden locks that seemed completely unaffected by the dust from the debris and she wore a dark green bomber jacket that made your jaw drop. You had never seen such a simple yet stylish jacket in your life. Your first instinct was to compliment her jacket and your second instinct was to thank her. Thankfully, you acted on your second instinct and thanked her for saving your life.

“No problem,” She replied before tossing the debris aside as if it didn’t weigh more than a human before she flew towards the laser beams that were still firing in the sky. You watched her disappear and wondered if you would ever see her again.

Shockingly, you saw her again at a coffee shop in New York a few weeks after. She was wearing a plain red t-shirt with a small logo on the front (again, simplistic yet stylish) and you almost stumbled over your feet as you walked over to her to talk to her.

“Hey! Thanks for saving my life a few weeks ago when the aliens were firing laser beams near C Street,” You grinned and the woman’s face lit up with recognition when you brought up your last encounter. You considered adding that you really admired her shirt but pressed your lips together, silently willing yourself not to speak.

“Oh, right! Yeah, that was no problem at all really,” She reassured and she held out her hand. “I’m Carol by the way. I don’t think I’ve properly introduced myself.”

“I’m Y/n. Nice to meet you.” Just as you finished your sentence, your phone started ringing and you saw that the alarm you set for ten minutes before your first class just went off. You turned off the alarm and sheepishly apologized, “Sorry, I have to go to class. Hopefully, I’ll see you around!”

“Bye!” Carol waved and you rushed to class with a stupid, lovesick grin on your face. Only when you got to class, you realized you forgot to ask for her number. Still, you trusted in fate to make everything work out and a couple days later, you met Carol again at the same coffee shop.

This time, she was wearing a cropped yellow hoodie with floral patterns and you couldn’t hold back your thoughts anymore so you blurted out, “I love your style so much. The clothing choices you make are always so stylish and go together so well! I absolutely adore your outfits. Can I buy you a coffee?”

“That would be wonderful, thank you. And I’m humbled by your compliments. I don’t think much about what I wear but I guess my wardrobe is rather diverse,” Carol chuckled and continued the conversation. You talked with her for such a long time at the coffee shop about New York and you almost forgot about your class once again. Unlike last time, this time, Carol insisted on walking with you to your class even though she didn’t know where you studied and probably had errands to run.

You found her gesture really sweet and gave her your number as a thank you gesture. If the snap didn’t happen the next day, she probably would have called you. However, the snap happened and she seemed to have disappeared. You survived, living your life while half the universe disappeared. Even in the absence of some of the professors, you finished studying in school and found a job in New York in the fashion industry. You didn’t see Carol for another five years when everybody came back. 

She was at the same coffee shop you had met her at five years ago and she was wearing a blue jean jacket decorated with assorted pins. Carol still had her bright smile, seeming to be unburdened by the snap. You gathered your courage, crossing your fingers that she would remember you as you walked over and greeted, “Hey Carol! How are you doing? It’s been so long!”

“Oh my god! Y/n! So good to see you again! I’m good, how are you doing?” Carol didn’t hesitate to wrap her arms around you in a warm embrace and you hugged her back, recalling how wonderful her hugs are. “It’s almost like the universe is trying to tell us something after all these years.”

“Yeah! Do you want to get dinner together sometime? You have my number, right? You can just send me a text when you’re free,” You cheerfully suggested and Carol nodded, seeming to also be on board with your idea. “I have a meeting to go to but I really look forward to catching up soon!”

“I will definitely text you when I’m free!” Carol gave you one last hug before you left the coffee shop to attend the meeting. Later that night, Carol texted you a date and location, asking if you were free then. Luckily, your schedule was empty during that time so you agreed. 

At the restaurant, Carol was wearing a wonderful purple dress that made your jaw drop. You swore you spent half of the time just admiring her dress. Admittedly, it was a little awkward at first since you both sort of silently agreed that this was a date but the ice was broken by the easy flow of conversation that started. 

One date led to another and one day, you decided to ask Carol to officially be your girlfriend. You two were sitting together outside the coffee shop under the warm summer sun and she was wearing a soft tangerine-colored romper with a pair of sunglasses on her head when you turned towards her and asked, “Would you like to be my girlfriend?”

“Is that even a question? Of course!” Carol placed her hand on yours with a supportive smile on her face. You let out the breath you had been holding in and she suddenly gasped, which caused you to slightly panic again.

“You good?”

“Yeah, I just realized that everything had come full circle. I’ve worn different colored clothing every time we’ve met and now I’ve worn every single color from the rainbow. The universe really wanted our gay hearts to be happy, huh?” Carol laughed and you joined her, unable to stop yourself from finding her revelation adorable and oddly symbolic. If the universe truly wants you and Carol together, you hope that there will be many more rainbows and rompers in your future with her. 

~

check out more marvel fics on the marvel page on my blog! and comment to join the carol danvers taglist

Carol Danvers Taglist: @retrobhaddie​ @mystic-ender​ @just-your-local-history-nerd​ @xxxtwilightaxelxxx​ @aesthetiff​ @imgayandilliterate​

[artificialqueens]

hotel california. (gigi/jackie) — chapter three, roza

summary: jackie explores more of los angeles with gigi as the two set off for hollywood blvd. they run into some familiar faces and jackie begins to feel some comfort in california.

author's note: thank you to all of jankie candle for being the best support and of course to meg for always being a wonderful beta as well as alex who is always an incredible beta and my favourite person on earth.

AO3 Link / My Tumblr: @leljaaa / (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

— *.✧

"I am ready," Jackie shouted upon hearing the loud knock at her door.

She already knew that Gigi was waiting for her so they could go and stroll the tourist areas that the blonde felt were completely a necessity when visiting California.

She hummed as she turned off the TV channel that had been blasting throughout the apartment, then she grabbed her small purse and headed out the door, knowing that Gigi was right outside.

The second full day had officially passed in California and Jackie was slowly beginning to understand routine, and was comforted seeing all the food that was still left over from their cooking lessons from the previous night.

She missed her mother, she missed her father and the rest of her family, but getting to spend hours on end with Gigi certainly was not a bad thing.

"Let's go," Gigi grinned, her helmet already in her left hand as they raced to her bike and they began to get into the swing of how it would end up working out.

Gigi would sit, Jackie would follow, she'd wrap her arms around the shorter woman's back and the blonde would make sure the Persian gave a thumbs up before Gigi would finally ignite the engine and ride off on the California streets.

"All these palm trees," she yelled with a laugh as her boots relaxed against the exterior of the bike. Gigi paid close attention only to the road, though seeing Jackie out of the corner of her eye giggle or gasp at every new tree was one of the most cute and sweet things she'd ever witness.

Gigi had decided yesterday that there was absolutely no place more crowded, more California and more popular than Hollywood Blvd.

There would certainly be enough payphones to ease Jackie's clouded mind, as well as an abundance of tourist activities and famous sites for the Persian to stroll around and see.

I'm going to make sure she gets the most out of America that she can.

— *.✧

Fifteen solid minutes of riding down the crowded streets found the two finally at the starting point of Hollywood Blvd.

"We're here," Gigi called out to the Persian as she snapped a few pictures with her Kodak Instamatic camera, trying to save some memories for Jackie considering she hadn't brought much luggage with her.

The Persian dusted down her knee length yellow dress, trying to keep it in pristine condition before she gazed at the mass scope of the street.

"This is… very big," Jackie managed to reply as she adjusted her white leather boots, trying to keep up with the blonde who knew the smartest thing to do was to just keep walking along the iconic four and a half mile long street.

"It's quintessential California!"

The Persian tried to hold on to Gigi's jacket sleeve as they navigated their way past the various and many people that overcrowded the street, especially on their side of the boulevard where Jackie began to notice all the engraved, bright pink stars below them.

"Is this a common thing in America?" Jackie asked completely clueless as Gigi flashed a bright smile. She chuckled, amused as the two moved to the side of the street without as many people so they could stroll comfortably.

"Trust me, this is purely just a Los Angeles tourist thing," she whispered to the Persian who nodded, trying to still take in all of the authentic American experience whenever possible.

Out of the corner of her eye she noticed a payphone booth and gasped. She instinctively pulled down on Gigi's jacket as the shorter woman was almost sent crashing to the pavement before catching her balance.

"You alright?" She asked as Jackie pointed at the phone, immediately reaching for her wallet as she counted in her head the timezone conversion, realizing it was just about to pass nine in the evening for her family in Tehran.

"Oh shit the phone!"

Gigi took off, grabbing Jackie's hand as they laughed, pushing through the slow walkers and various people who plagued the streets of Los Angeles in the early morning.

They managed to make it before anyone could steal the payphone, and Jackie inserted twenty cents into the machine as Gigi stood idly as she looked around to make sure no one would try to mess around with the Persian.

Jackie gripped the wires, breathing heavily as she prayed that somehow her siblings would at least answer the phone.

There's at least ringing.

"Hello?" The thick accent cut through the phone, and the Persian assumed that her family must've known it was an odd time for a phone call from god knows where.

The blonde felt a smile paint itself across her lips the moment she heard Jackie's beaming excitement, starting to speak in Farsi, and Gigi assumed that she managed to get through to her family.

The phone would only run for a minute and Jackie knew this as she would often pick up the tone in her voice and roll her eyes, trying to just break through that she was safe and in California and would call when she could.

Jackie hung up and sighed as she composed herself and smiled at Gigi, admitting that it had gone well and they knew she was at least safe and alive.

"They're okay?"

"For now yes," Jackie responded with a pinch of uncertainty, not wanting to mention the fact that her mother mentioned there were talks of the Prime Minister resigning and running for the hills tomorrow.

"That's all that matters, I'm happy you and your family are okay."

Her head hung low as Gigi wrapped an arm around her back, she knew there wasn't much she could do except support the Persian. Jackie glanced around before pressing a kiss to her shoulder, the two of them unable to say or even do anything except grin at each other from time to time.

"Gigi!" The blonde heard a voice scream from the other side of the road, she turned trying to find where the voice was coming from before seeing a hand being raised by a distinct woman with glowing platinum blonde hair.

Gigi gasped. "Jan," she shrieked as she held on to Jackie's hand as she quickly attempted to explain to the Persian that she was one of her best friends since middle school.

Jan laughed seeing the blonde, completely going feral and pushing aside people to run into the blonde's arms. Jackie stood awkwardly smiling and waving at the other woman who had been standing right next to Jan.

She was completely radiant.

Impeccable makeup, her hair long and resembling that of Donna Summer; Jackie didn't know much of American music but how could you not love such a global disco icon.

She wore denim bell bottoms fashioned with a white, flowing blouse. The outfit was pulled together by the white heels she had on as the two finally laughed and shook hands, introducing themselves to each other as the bubbly blonde next to her was still chatting up a storm with Gigi.

"Jaida," she introduced herself as Gigi furiously turned her head before she gasped and put two and two together as she blinked at Jan, who just laughed as she watched Gigi try and put the puzzle together.

"You two are friends? " Her face and expression reading as something extremely different to what she was attempting to ask.

Jaida eyed the woman beside her up and down before Jan snickered and rubbed her shoulders, biting down on her lip as she nodded to Gigi who gasped and gave a big smile, immediately hugging Jaida who was happy to introduce herself again.

Gigi had never been happier to see Jan out in the open and actually with a woman. Jaida seemed extremely caring and she was certainly beautiful to look at. She knew that her close friend was in good hands.

"Who is this," Jan asked with a large grin, her finger pointing at the Persian as Gigi shook her head furiously at the connotation. Jackie was confused as the blonde lowly whispered that Jan was asking if they were a couple.

"Oh! No, no, just friends! I'm Jackie."

"She's just a friend, she's staying at my dad's complex. She's from Iran."

Jaida nodded, thanking Jackie for being so strong about the entire situation back in Iran. The Persian laughed, honoured but admitting that being a refugee didn't feel like she was being strong about anything.

"I feel very weird but it's only been two days so I cannot say much," she explained as Jan gasped, immediately admitting she didn't think she had only been here for such a short amount of time.

"Your English is so great, girl I would've never even guessed it!"

Gigi hummed as she rubbed her shoulder against her own, proud that Jackie was getting the recognition she deserved for her skills in English.

"I was a Linguistics student at our University in Iran before I left, so I'm glad that it helped me with coming to California, it's nice here."

They all scoffed, the three of them unanimously agreeing that California was expensive and dreadful and only fun for holidays or a weekend.

"It's been fun for the last two days," she admitted shyly before smiling at Gigi, who could only stay quiet as Jackie admitted that the blonde had been her help through this entire situation.

"Gigi is always helpful, I'm glad you're here with us," Jan's chipper tone made the pair smile as Jaida admitted that they were just strolling about trying to get out in the sun.

"Hey you know," Jan gently hit her partner's shoulder as Jaida laughed, not realizing that the blonde could punch so hard. "You two should come with us to the roller rink tonight, you already know we asked Crystal."

"I don't know Jan—"

"I love roller skating!"

Their heads whipped to Jackie who was practically bursting at the seams at the simple idea of going roller skating with Gigi and her newly introduced friends.

"I'm impressed," Gigi admitted with a chuckle before she slipped her hands in her pocket and shrugged. "If you wanna go then we'll go, Jackie."

Jackie nodded immediately, grabbing Gigi's wrists and kissing her cheeks as was customary with any Middle Eastern greeting. Jan giggled in the background as the blonde chuckled and struggled to hide the red flush growing dark across her cheeks.

"Done deal."

— *.✧

"This was such a bad idea," Gigi screamed at the end of her sentence as she almost flipped backward attempting to figure out how these four wheeled monstrosities worked. Crystal laughed as she and Jan each held one of her arms to make sure she stayed upright.

Jackie truly meant it when she said she enjoyed roller skating, she was passing Gigi every thirty seconds and attempting to groove along to the music that blasted throughout the rink.

Her posture was perfect, pushing lightly on the front of the skates as she navigated past the teenagers and adults who were closer to Gigi and just trying not to fall right on to the floor.

She would apply pressure on each foot and gain momentum as she attempted to keep the skating in time with the music tracks that played. Gigi was truly in awe, there was nothing Jackie couldn't do at this point.

Jaida was also quite good on her own and would laugh at Jan, who was at least consistent in falling and trying to make an attempt to walk in the roller skates.

The Persian stopped in front of the blonde with a grin, holding out her hand for Gigi to take as Crystal gave her a firm push. The two of them slammed into each other, almost falling to the floor before Jackie held on to the collar of her jacket.

"Sorry," she whispered quietly under all the disco lights and music as dozens skated past them, Gigi gently pushed away as to not get in trouble with any families who would gasp and purely start a scene in a rink at the idea of the two women attempting to hold each other, it had happened before and the blonde promised never again.

"It's okay," the blonde replied as Jackie followed Gigi in pursuit, showing her all the basics of roller skating. She slowly began to pick up some steam as she would laugh at Jan, who had given up in favour of just walking around in the skates instead.

Crystal gave one final push to Gigi as she skated by before the blonde attempted to run after her in spite, though she quickly remembered how shit her skating skills were.

"Don't fall again please," Jackie giggled aloud as the music changed to a sweeping power ballad. Gigi had absolutely no sense of rhythm according to Jaida and she couldn't even begin to disagree when she tried to find a groove to a Bee Gees song.

They skated for another half hour before the blonde had given up on Jackie trying to teach her. Frustrated she left the floor and went and sat on one of the indoor benches that were placed around the roller skate rink.

She unlaced her skates just as Crystal came over, gliding perfectly on the skates as she took the small space between the bench that was left.

"She's just trying to help you," the redhead explained as Gigi groaned, throwing her head in her hands as she admitted that she was just embarrassed and didn't want Jackie to have to keep reteaching the same three movements over and over.

"Have you ever stopped and thought why she might be teaching you all of this?"

"No," she mustered out as Gigi stared up at Crystal who only cocked a brow, cackling and opening her arms in shock.

"She's completely in love with you!" The redhead shouted in a whisper to not attract any unnecessary homophobia. The blonde covered her cheeks with her fingertips, attempting not to smile at the thought of the Persian being head over heels for Gigi.

The thought escaped her head as soon as it entered it, her body turning to Jackie who was still trying to teach Jan and Jaida some tricks on the rink. "It's been two days Crystal," her lips spoke in a saddened whisper.

"Two days, but almost every hour of every day has been spent with you Gigi. If I was a refugee and didn't have anyone else to hang out besides an obnoxious biker chick, I would have to fall in love," Gigi smiled at the reply her best friend gave until hearing the last sentence and immediately hitting her in the stomach as Crystal gasped and laughed in pain.

"You knew it was coming!"

"God you're a fucking prick."

"You love me and you know it," Crystal bit down on her tongue as Gigi supposed she was right. She'd never have another best friend like Crystal again, another friend who made sure she was comfortable with kissing women and comfortable with her sexuality.

They had dated for a few months before they simply realized friendship would forever be the better option in every universe. Though Gigi was thankful that all of her first experiences and make out sessions were with the comfort of her calm, collected and caring best friend.

"I love you from a distance, as a friend and when you're not flashing your teeth at me."

The two of them hugged as Crystal sighed in happiness. "Aren't you just the sweetest?"

— *.✧

Gigi and Jackie said their goodbyes to the happy couple, and Crystal lounged around with them as they made their way out of the rink and over to the parking lot.

"I got the car tonight," the redhead waved her mother's keys with a devilish grin as Gigi shook her head.

"We're going home, I'm not ready to get high and wake up in your bathtub again Crystal," she muttered under her breath before Jackie laughed, both amused and deeply concerned at what that story entailed.

"See you guys tomorrow!"

They waved goodbye before hopping back on to the bike, Gigi helping the Persian get on the back of the bike, holding her hand tightly before she felt that safety net around her back once more.

The ride was quieter than usual, the only sounds Gigi could hear were the engine and the occasional gentle breath let out at stoplights from Jackie's lips as she leaned up against the biker's back.

"Would you like to go back to my room?"

The question was spoken just an inch too soft and loving for Gigi to possibly refuse.

"Of course."

Jackie asked if she wanted another piece of the desert still left over from last night, to which Gigi almost jumped in excitement at the idea of eating that delicious, Middle Eastern pastry.

Bringing two plates, Jackie flipped on the TV before the two of them sat in silence, occasionally glancing prolonged at one another with wide eyes and heavy breathing.

"Have you ever kissed a woman?" The question made Gigi choke, she would never expect such an out of character question for someone as well put together as Jackie.

Gigi didn't know how to answer, she prayed it wasn't the Persian girl cornering her in to some homophobic outburst.

"I've never kissed a woman before," the Persian finally answered quietly as her hand wrapped around her curly hair, twirling the strands between her fingers as Gigi stared completely entranced at Jackie who was only staring back.

"That's perfectly understandable," her sentence barely even half way out before Jackie gently took her wrists and glanced right into her eyes.

"But I want to kiss a woman Gigi," she whispered quietly with the TV still playing the nightly news channel as the blonde completely felt every wall break and crumble beneath her.  

"I'll kiss you," the reply came softly as Jackie nodded and asked for permission to kiss her. Gigi had to laugh, even if she greatly appreciated the obvious importance of consent to Jackie.

"It would be an honour Jacqueline." Gigi grinned, licking her lips as Jackie bit down on her lip with a giggle.

Their lips pressed together as Gigi's fingers slipped through the Persian's hair, trying to gain some kind of hold as they laid with Jackie's back pressed against the arm of the couch.

Kissing her was utter heaven .

Gigi finally cracked the code: God was a woman and her name was Jackie Cox.

Every desire and suggestive thought she had the last two days felt completely validated and only grew stronger, seeing as they were going to town making out with one another.

I hope this never ends.

Gigi would've never in two million years expect that the first woman she would've made out with, besides Crystal, would be a refugee who was living in one of her dad's own apartments, but she sure wasn't picky.

The Persian held Gigi by her waist as she took the chance and gently slid her lips down to Jackie's neck, completely in the moment.

"No, no, no," Jackie instantaneously pushed away the American girl who frowned, apologising almost immediately after the words left the Persian's lips.

"I'm sorry Jackie, I didn't mean to push—"

"Don't say sorry, it's okay, I'm just not ready for that yet ."

Yet.

Jackie was impressed that she could even get through kissing a woman with all the religious and cultural hymns replayed constantly on a loop in her head.

She was not even close to ready to sleep with a woman, every memory of her home country and the propaganda and innocents murdered were fresh and far too clear in her mind.

"That's perfectly okay," Gigi's eyes fluttered nervously as Jackie pushed back the stray pieces of hair that framed her face. The blonde's smile returned as the Persian cleared her throat.

"I want to kiss you again Gigi…"

Gigi's heart raced. The idea of having any woman, especially Jackie, begging to kiss her again seemed almost far too divine of a concept.

But she did ask… who am I to possibly say no?

The blonde hummed as she held Jackie's arms against the couch with a grin painted across her cherry red lipstick.

"I'm all yours baby."

[alleiradayne]

Unconventional A J2 x Reader RPF Series

After a rousing evening of Friday Night Karaoke at the Supernatural convention, you’re tired and about to go to bed. But then a distinctly familiar laugh echoes through the hallway outside your hotel room door, and sleep is the last thing on your mind.

Part I - Situational

Summary: Back in your room after the always-entertaining Friday Night Karaoke, you’re about to pass out. But then that familiar cackling laughter hits your ears, and when you open your hotel room door, you find yourself standing face to face with Jared Padalecki. Warnings/Tags: Fluff, flirting, suggestions of sex, imbibing of alcohol Characters/Pairings: Jared Padalecki, Jensen Ackles, Female Reader Word Count: 3,569 A/N: For the love of everything good in this world, assume everyone involved is single or polyamorous. No. Wife. Hate. Allowed. This series as a whole will fulfill my Polyamory square for @spnkinkbingo​ but not until closer to the end. Beta’d by @atc74​ because she’s awesome and managed to read this hella long buncha nonsense.

His laugh permeated your subconscious, and a tendril of recognition wandered its way through your weary daze. The first day of the con had wrapped no more than an hour ago. Karaoke, entertaining as ever, had sapped the last of your energy, but for whatever reason, you had struggled to fall asleep. Not even hotel infomercials or the endless stream of Tumblr had lulled you to sleep.

Oh, but that laugh. Though unmistakable despite its distance, you had to have imagined it, a lucid dream. Given the upcoming convention events, your subconscious mind must have conjured up ridiculous fantasies to placate your nerves. Come Sunday, you would meet him, really meet him and talk with him and, if you were lucky, get to know him a little. No wonder you subconsciously dreamt of him as you stared, unseeing, at the television.

But then he laughed again. Right outside your door.

Not a dream, then. But a simpler explanation existed; it had to be someone that sounded like him. Not like his laugh was exclusive to him. It might be to you, but plenty of people cackled at silly things like he did.

Except when he laughed, it never felt forced. His smile reached his eyes every time he laughed like that, and his body pitched as his shoulders shook. You had seen that laugh a thousand times, at so many cons and in so many gag reels. There was no mistaking it.

And then you heard it for the third time, though it echoed from further down the hall. Your single room was the last before the massive corner suite, and there it must be that he stayed.

You bolted upright, spine straight as you focused, and listened closer. Muffled sounds slipped through the wall of your room as bags thumped to the floor, other items dropped, and people bid one another good night.

Curiosity piqued, you hopped from the hotel bed, turned off the television, and shuffled to your door. More voices passed, but they sounded as if they headed in a different direction. When the soft thud and snict of the nearest door interrupted your concentration, you gripped the handle of yours, and, with a slow turn of the knob, pulled it aside.

There in the hallway stood Jared Padalecki, phone in hand and frozen mid-stride as he stared at you. No Jensen. No Clif. No other bodyguards. Just Jared. Alone.

Except for you. No anticipation had prepared you for him, as much as your imagination had tried the last few minutes. Your teeth clicked shut when Jared laughed through his nose, nothing like the cackling you had heard a moment earlier. No, that laugh sounded like pure amusement, as if he were used to people reacting to his presence like you had, mouth agape and eyes popping out of their heads.

The need to speak, to do something beyond standing there staring at him, surpassed your better judgment and so, you said, “Hey, Jared.”

Smooth. But, as terrible as it sounded, it worked. Jared smiled his charming smile as he slid his phone into his pocket and took a step closer. “Hey, there. Are you my neighbor for the weekend?”

With your wits gathered, your typical loquacious speech returned. “It appears that I am the lucky son of a bitch who gets to see you come and go in the halls of our hotel during this convention.”

Jared held out his hand with an approving frown. “Verbose. Is that normal, or are you nervous?”

“Y/N,” you started as you took his offered hand, yours dwarfed by his. “And it’s normal. I’m not known for mincing words. Some would call me turgid, even.”

“Hm,” he started as he looked you over and examined your hand in his. “I’m not seeing any fluid retention, Y/N. And I like verbose.”

The hallway had grown far too hot in a hurry. Your guffaw of a laugh drew another from Jared, and your voices sang a song you wished to hear every day for the rest of your life. But you had stopped him on his way out. His phone buzzed an incessant chirp in his pocket that distracted both of you.

“Sorry, Y/N,” he mumbled. “They’re waiting for me. Surprised Cliffy hasn’t come back up.”

“Where are you headed?” You had blurted out the question before any rational thought argued he might not want to share that information.

“Bar down the street. We’ve been there a few times before,” he said as he jabbed a thumb to the north. “Nice place, good food, good beer, fun atmosphere. We go largely unnoticed too, so that’s a bonus every once in a while.”

With a nod you agreed. “Yeah, it’s a good joint. Great fish and chips.”

“Oh,” Jared mused with a thoughtful smile. “I haven’t tried that yet. I’ll have to give it a shot another night though, just going out for a drink.”

Tips on bar food. Great. You had Jared Padalecki all to yourself and you chose to talk about bar food. How benign. How maddeningly… normal.

“Hey, Y/N?”

His shoulders hunched as he leaned closer to you, head low and knees bent as if to appear smaller. You shook your head free of your wandering thoughts and refocused. “Yeah?”

“You okay?” he asked. “Day went alright? You seem…”

The sting of embarrassment pricked at your cheeks as you smiled and averted his intense hazel stare. “Flustered? Bemused? Bewildered? Try all three,” you said as you ran a nervous hand through your hair. “I had a great first day at the con, but… I never expected something like this. Sorry, I don't want to keep you, I'll let you get back to your—"

“Come with us.”

The world lurched to a halt at Jared's words. “No,” you started with a shake of your head. “I couldn't. I mean, I could, I want to, but I wouldn't want to impose. And I don't want people to get the wrong idea…”

“You wouldn't be imposing, I invited you,” Jared explained with a shrug. “And we can't control what other people say. If it really makes you uncomfortable, you don't have to come out, but we'd be happy to have you.”

Drinks with Jared. “Jensen will be there, too?”

“Absolutely,” Jared replied. “Cliffy, as always. But that should be it tonight. Maybe more tomorrow after the concert. Rob and the band like to go out after, so sometimes we kick it with them.”

“Sounds like a good time,” you started, still hesitant. Why, you were not sure. How often did an opportunity to hang out with Jared Padalecki present itself? Once in a lifetime? No point in second-guessing yourself or his insistence.

“Y/N?”

A shake of your head cleared the fog of conflict from your mind. “Let me get my boots. You’ll have to excuse my attire, I planned on going to a Supernatural convention all weekend, not clubbing.”

Jared laughed at that, not far from his typical cackle. “We’re going to a pub, you’ll fit right in. And for what it’s worth, that plaid is great, I love the color. Looks good on you.”

From previous interactions with Jared—photo ops and autographs—you had experienced his giving nature before. It wasn’t the first time he’d complimented you. But that had not prepared you for another, and so direct without a crowed of people around. Your entire face burned as your knees threatened to buckle.

“Th-thanks,” you stuttered. “I’ll just… uh…”

Jared held the door aside as you pointed towards your boots, out of reach. “I’ll hold it. Take your time,” he said as he withdrew his phone and began to text.

With your boots on and a sweater donned, you gathered your belongings and returned to the door. “Ready?”

Jared flashed his brilliant smile as he motioned you through the door. “After you. Jensen’s already in the truck, Cliffy is heading in to lead us out back without any interruptions. Which rarely happens, just so you know.”

Through the door, Jared followed you as you asked, “Really?” Your door shut behind you with a soft click and you double-checked it to be sure it was closed.

“I mean, sure, a handful of people might recognize us in a night,” he said with a shrug. “Couple pictures here and there. Nothing crazy. And if we get overwhelmed at all, Clif’s there.”

At the elevators, you prodded the down button as you said, “I’m surprised you’re not swarmed by fans all the time.”

Jared’s amused chuckle followed you into the elevator as the door opened. “That’s a rare situation, although it has happened.”

The fifteen-floor descent began, and though you had a million questions you wanted to ask, a million things you wanted to say, none came to mind. How could they? You were in an elevator with Jared Padalecki. The worst parts of your imagination suggested possibilities better left to yourself, but Jared must have noticed the consternation on your face.

“You okay, Y/N?” he started, a gentle hand smoothing your shoulder. “You got quiet there all of a sudden.”

“I uh…” you stuttered. “I’m fine. Just overwhelmed. Elevator isn’t helping.”

Another laugh from Jared eased your nerves. “Worried about getting stuck?”

That furious sting returned to your cheeks, spreading across the bridge of your nose. “I wouldn’t say I’m worried about it,” you jested, but from where that boldness originated, you had no clue.

Jared's amused surprise worked a smile out of you as he said, “Okay, keep your secrets then. I won't pry.” He paused for a beat, then added, “For now.”

Innuendos then? The door to the elevator opened as it reached the ground floor, your mind spinning with every possible meaning to Jared’s words. But that string of images disappeared in a flash when you met Clif waiting outside the elevator.

As if unsurprised to see you, Clif smiled and offered his hand with a short introduction. You grasped it and shook, giving your name and a quick apology for Jared’s tardiness.

“We’re used to it,” Clif started as he turned for a stairway door. “He’s always dragging ass, although he may actually have an excuse this time.”

Through the door, Jared retaliated. “Don’t give me shit for inviting someone out, man.”

Clif laughed at that but said nothing else. Through a short series of hallways, you followed him to a rear exit of the hotel where a large black SUV waited. Clif rounded the front of the vehicle as Jared opened a door for you and ushered you in.

Once seated and the door closed, your eyes adjusted to the darkness only to find Jensen leaning over the console and staring at you.

“You’re not Jared,” he suggested with a smirk.

“An astute judgment,” you shot back.

“A smartass, though,” he retorted as he held out his hand. “My kinda gal.”

A brow quirked towards your hairline as you shook his hand, surprised to find it rough and calloused. “Y/N. A pleasure.”

The passenger door opposite you opened and Jared stepped in with a hop. He groaned with a contorted frown as he spotted your hand in Jensen’s. “Is he giving you shit already?”

“Oh, don't worry, my knight in shining armor, she beat me to it,” Jensen said as he released your hand and returned to his seat.

Jared’s approving smile heated the SUV to an unreasonable level, and you wondered if that might be your curse all night, sweating in the wake of Jared’s praise. He prodded Jensen in the shoulder as he said, “I brought backup.”

Jensen scoffed as the SUV pulled away from the hotel. “Great, now I have to put up with two of you.”

“Hey, I didn't pick a side here, I'm still Switzerland in this war,” you teased.

Jensen laughed and Jared mocked him as he threw a side-eyed glare at you. And then a thought occurred to you that, depending on their response, might sour the evening. “Do you guys do this often?”

“Do what?” Jensen asked.

“Pick up random fans in hotels and take them out?”

Jared’s nose turned a pink bright enough to be seen by the dashboard light. “No,” he started. “We don’t.”

“I mean, we’ve had our fair share of one—”

“Dude!”

Jensen scoffed as he leaned over the console again. “Oh, c’mon, man, she’s not some naive little girl, why do you think she asked?” he started as he regarded you again, then paused with a furrow of his brow. “Wait, how old are you?”

“Old enough.”

Jensen shook his head as he said, “Nope. Your pithy tongue isn’t getting you out of this one.”

“You think this is a pithy tongue, just wait until I’ve had a couple drinks,” you said with a laugh.

“Only a couple?” Jared asked

You scoffed at that. “I’m not a cheap date. Single barrel scotch is my go-to, and it only takes about two of those before I’m a beer or two shy of fucking wasted.”

Clif turned the corner with a bark of his own laugh as he said, “You sure know how to pick ‘em.” The SUV lumbered to a stop outside of the pub as he added, “I’ll go park and be back in a minute.”

“We’ll head upstairs right away, looks busy,” Jared suggested as he hopped from the truck.

Jensen opened your door and held out his hand for you. As capable as you were to exit the truck on your own, the chance to hold Jensen’s hand again would not go squandered. His gentle grasp contrasted with his rough skin, and your imagination ran further into the trenches with that second connection.

From the truck, you hopped to your feet and Jensen shut the door behind you with a wave for Clif. Quite familiar with the pub, you headed in first and went directly to the stairs in the back. The lower level was packed, but around the corner, the noisy din of the bar faded. Uninterrupted, you ascended the stairs and checked over your shoulder to find Jared and Jensen following you, a smile from each.

At the top you asked them, “Bar or table?”

Jared motioned far across the bar to a smaller booth area. Dim lamps illuminated the tables, bathed in soft golden light and secluded from most others. Perfect. You agreed without a word and followed Jared as he started for the table.

A few eyes followed, some squinting, and a couple wide with recognition. Jared waved and Jensen mouthed a greeting, but no one approached. Once seated, you beside Jared and Jensen across, a server rushed to the table. “Eating tonight?”

“Just drinks,” Jensen said as he ordered from the beer list.

Jared ordered a manhattan on the rocks, much to your surprise, and you ordered your preferred scotch. The server left, leaving a drink menu behind, and Jensen eyed you with a subtly suspicious raise of his brow. “You weren’t joking.”

“I’ll pay for my own drinks,” you said. “Shits expensive.”

“You never answered my question though,” he continued. “You enjoy good scotch, you’re not in complete shock around us, which, is refreshing, you managed to get Jared to order hard liquor for the first time in ages, and you didn’t get carded.”

“Hey,” Jared interjected but Jensen bowled him over.

“How old are you?”

The server returned with your drinks, Clif arriving on his heels and sliding into an adjacent booth with a few people in tow. You took the opportunity to sip from your glass, then said, “I’m thirty-four.”

Jared nearly spit out his drink. “I don’t believe you.”

“Which was why I avoided the question,” you started. “Nobody does.”

“I thought you were older for some reason,” Jensen said, then immediately backpedaled. “I mean, like, not in the face. That’s why I didn’t guess. You hardly look old enough to be drinking. But everything about your personality said otherwise.”

Jared’s nose scrunched as he backhanded your shoulder. “I still don’t believe you’re thirty-four. I’ve really only got two years on you?”

Despite the distraction of physical contact, you pulled out your wallet and handed him your driver’s license. “And you look about 20 when you’re completely clean shaven. Don’t make it seem like you didn’t win the genetic lottery.”

He handed back your license with a hearty laugh. “I shouldn’t complain, I know,” he sighed. “Jensen can, though. He’s old.”

“Distinguished,” you corrected as you hefted your glass towards Jensen. “I can only hope I make forty-one look as hot as you do.”

Jensen hid his smile behind his glass as he toasted yours, but he failed to hide the pink that colored his cheeks. “If you can pass for an under-age drinker at thirty-four, your forties will be glorious.”

Jared added his glass. “I’ll second that, even though he’s hitting on you.”

“What? I don’t see a ring,” Jensen started. “And it’s not like she hasn’t been flirting with both of us since the car.”

How had he arrived at that conclusion? An eyebrow quirked towards your hairline as you asked, “Sarcasm and witty banter count as flirting now? What’s next, eye contact?”

That drew both men up short, but you had not intended to attack them. Jared’s chastised frown and Jensen’s crestfallen pout broke your heart. “Guys, it’s fine. I’m just giving you shit. Flirt all you want, it doesn't bother me.”

“You sure?” Jared started as his tentative touch found your knee. “We shouldn’t have assumed, I’m sorry.”

A bewildered shake of your head preceded your laugh, and you held his hand firm, hoping to reassure him. “Don’t apologize, seriously. It’s not everyday guys like you flirt with me. Actually, it’s more like no guys ever, but that’s beside the point.”

“Fuck that, they’re missing out,” Jensen scoffed before he took a long pull from his beer. “I doubt you never get hit on.”

“I didn’t say that. Plenty of women hit on me and they’re way better at it than men are,” you said with another laugh. “Besides the two of you, that is.”

“Still,” Jared started, “I don’t know why a guy wouldn’t hit on you. You’re stunning. I’m surprised you’re not on TV at the least.”

You almost spat out your drink. “My fat face? Do you know how much weight I’d have to lose to get into the industry on my own? I have zero connections,” you explained. “And don’t say it, I know damn well I’m not fat. I work out a ton and practice martial arts. Could I be in better shape? Sure. But to accomplish that I’d have to do none of this,” you paused as you gestured with your glass, then took another sip. “And probably quit my day job.”

A thoughtful smile hooked Jensen’s full lips. “We should train together tomorrow morning.”

“What?”

“What time do you need to be at the convention?” Jared asked, seeming to catch Jensen’s idea.

“Ten o’clock. I’m in VIP and shit starts right away,” you replied.

The two men considered each other as Jared squeezed your thigh. “So, we’ll be seeing plenty of you at the con, then, too?” he suggested.

That sting of embarrassment returned to your cheeks. “Actually, Jared, you’ll be seeing a lot of me on Sunday. I bought your photo op and meet and greet. Jensen, I love you, too, but I gotta admit, I’m more than a little obsessed with Jared.”

The massive hand on your thigh inched higher, nearing your center and squeezed.  You gathered every ounce of willpower you had not to react. But Jared’s coy smile and Jensen’s knowing smirk had you dead to rights. “How about we train for a quick hour. Six o’clock sound good? Give you enough time to get ready for the con?”

“I uh,” you stuttered, Jared’s hand yet rubbing your thigh. You downed the last of your scotch to give yourself a chance to breathe. “That should work.”

Jensen checked his watch, then finished the last of his beer. “Should probably head back then. You good with that?”

Jared nodded as he pushed his empty drink to you. “Want the cherries?”

“How did you know?”

He laughed a short chuckle through his nose. “You kept staring at my empty glass.”

Damn perceptive of him. The first cherry disappeared in a quick bite, but as you brought the second to your lips, you paused as you saw both Jared and Jensen starting at you. Might as well give them something to look at, then. The cherry met your tongue as you reached for it, drew it to your lips, and then sucked it from the stem.

Jared gaped without reservation while Jensen’s crooked smile returned. He turned to Jared and said, without an ounce of sarcasm, “I hate you. I hate how lucky you are. I hope you know that.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Jared said as he urged you from the booth with a prod of your thigh.

You slid from your seat and waited for Jensen to talk to Clif, who begged off from his group and headed for the door. Jared tossed some money on the table as he placed a hand at the small of your back and guided you ahead of them.

“I was going to get my drink,” you said over your shoulder.

“And I said I was going to pay for it,” he retorted.

“Such a gentleman,” Jensen mocked. “He never buys me drinks unless we’re out with a group.”

“Shut up.”

Oh. So, it was true. They didn’t just bicker like an old married couple. They were an old married couple. At least, in spirit.

“You know,” you started, “I’m not opposed to entertaining more than one person tonight.”

Jensen eyed you over his shoulder as he neared the steps. “You want me to follow him up?”

Had you read the two of them wrong? “You guys don’t… you know,” you paused as you gestured with your fingers in the shape of an X. “Cross swords?”

Jared’s face turned a shade of crimson you’d yet to see, but despite his embarrassment, both he and Jensen laughed. As you descended the stairs, Jared wrapped an arm around your shoulders and said, “It’s not uncommon.”

“But?”

Jensen shrugged as he rounded the bannister. “Why don't we save that for another night?”

Jared pulled you flush to his hip as your arm slipped around his back. “Are you sure?” you asked.

Jensen’s laughter rivaled the sweetest song as he pushed aside the door. “Positive. You kids have fun. But don’t forget, gym, six o’clock. I wanna see what you can do.”

“We’ll be there,” Jared said as his thumb rubbed the back of your neck.

The black SUV rounded the corner as you shivered beneath Jared’s touch, the anticipation of his intentions shooting straight to you core.

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Unconventional

@wayward-and-worn @evansrogerskitten

[moonprincess92]

One, two, three... 

Jyn is terrible at Salsa. Cassian teaches dance for a living. Bodhi ships it.

(AKA: the Salsa AU that I am 100% going to regret posting but #yolo). 

Read on AO3 

Chapter 1 

If she’d had her way, Jyn would be at home wrapped up in a blanket burrito with tea and three seasons of Victoria.

As it was, her feet were involuntarily tapping to the beat of the music that she couldn’t understand, too hot and too tired to even try and stop it. The Muddy Farmer was always a pulsing mass on a Friday night, a wave of heat that managed to sit low over the dance floor even if it was blowing a gale outside. She still didn’t understand why an Irish pub hosted a Latin dance night of all things, but there were stranger things in the world, she supposed.

“Come onnnnn,” Bodhi had practically whined earlier that evening, attempting to forcibly unroll her from her blanket burrito. “I need a partner to dance with!”

“You know I’m shite at Salsa and half the bloody class goes out to Muddy Farmer every week,” Jyn had argued right on back. “There will be someone you know there.”

“Look,” Bodhi had huffed. “You and I both know that as soon as Luke arrives you can go home.”

“Oh no,” Jyn had shaken her head. “You said that last time, only I was forced to stay because you were too chicken to ask him out for the tenth time!”

“It’s HARD, ok?”

“He literally told you he had a crush on you.” 

“…still.”

Yes, still. She still somehow ended up here, on the edges of the crowd and watching Bodhi and Luke tear up a storm across the floor. Luke Skywalker’s perfect blond hair whipped around as he span, almost blurring as Bodhi led him through the crowd. Some heads still turned at the sight, but most of the social scene was used to the two dancing by this point, not to mention that the well known masters, Baze and Chirrut, still came out every once in a while as well. The couple had been the original ones to get Bodhi into Salsa in the first place, Jyn naturally being reluctantly dragged along behind him as the dutiful best friend/roommate. 

(Sometimes life just threw you curveballs). 

She took another gulp of her beer, watching the steps, turns and dips. There was everything from beginners just learning to cross-body, to seasoned veterans who could spin no less than five times in a row. She could barely hear herself think over the live music, it thumping and rattling in her eardrums. The scent of greasy pub food hit her as the guy next to her at the bar ordered a basket of chips and she debated the merits of getting some herself versus just going home. She’d been here long enough now that she could probably get away with it, and Bodhi barely noticed anything when he was dancing.

Though the chips really did smell good…

In the end, the decision was made for her when someone accidentally stepped too close and shoved into another dancer. Chips went flying as they stumbled right into Chip Guy, nearly throwing him off his stool. Jyn debated the morality of eating the chip that had landed on her chest for a hot second or two, before deciding to go with the conscience and toss it aside so that she could offer to help him up.

“I’m so sorry!” the dancers exclaimed several times over.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Chip Guy insisted, somehow taking the battering with a smile. “Not the first time I’ve been danced into.”

“You all right, mate?” Jyn asked him.

He glanced over at her as the dancers went back to their partners. “I’m fine,” he insisted once more. “although I might need some help eating these now, my friend is weird about eating things off the floor.”

“Just don’t tell him, who has to know?”

He thankfully laughed a little, offering the basket up to her. Figuring it would be rude not to take one at this point, she quickly shoved a chip into her mouth, suddenly wishing that she’d actually made an effort to look decent that night, rather than stubbornly remain in her dirty jeans and t-shirt combo. The guy looked vaguely familiar, which was confirmed when he then asked her,

“I think I’ve seen you around, what’s your name again?”

“Jyn,” she said around her chips. “I’ve seen you too, I’m pretty sure.”

“I’m Cassian,” he replied. “Sorry if I’ve told you before, I’m pretty bad with names and there’s a lot of people–”

“Oh god, don’t even worry about it,” Jyn insisted. “You don’t need a name to dance so I forget everyone pretty much as soon as they introduce themselves.”

He smiled in solidarity. “I know a lot of faces, and I know a lot of names, but I’m at the point where I don’t know which name goes with which face.”

“That’s exactly it.”

“You don’t come out often, right?”

“Nah, only when the flatmate drags me,” Jyn gestured across the dance floor. “Do you know Bodhi?”

“Oh, THAT’S Bodhi!” Cassian said, face lighting up in recognition. “I’ve actually spoken to him several times! Good guy, although I had no idea what his name was until now.”

Jyn found herself wanting to laugh a little, which was clearly the strangest sensation she could ever feel on a Friday night when she should be at home alone with her historical dramas. She certainly knew of Cassian before now, even if she hadn’t ever properly spoken to him before. He was apparently from Mexico, he was pretty damn cute and he was insanely good at Salsa. She had danced with him a couple times as they’d all switched partners during the classes that Bodhi had forced her to do with him, and she could remember the way he had shaken her hands, claiming that she was way too tense, and how he had taught her how to switch the tension to her arms so that her frame stayed locked and easy to lead. He had been easy to chat to and easily her favourite to dance with…

But the thing with favourites is that she wasn’t the only one. Cassian insisted on her continuing to help him eat the contaminated chips and she noticed the eyes from across the pub, people wondering and craning heads, trying to figure out who she was and why she was the one who got to sit and eat with Cassian the Infamously Amazing Dancer. She tried to focus on what she was saying, answering her question of what she did as a job, instead of acknowledging Bodhi who was practically hollering at Luke at the sight.

“It’s not that interesting,” she tore her eyes away. “but I’ve got good work colleagues so it’s not too bad.”

“Are you kidding? It’s so cool you work in a police station!”

“Admin doesn’t solve murders, remember?” she said.

“Still,” Cassian pointed out. “You’re Gina from Brooklyn Nine-Nine.”

Jyn nearly choked on her chip.

“I don’t – I don’t think I’m quite like Gina,” she coughed. “Although to be fair, she is an inspiration to all.”

“I love that show.”

“Me too,” Damn it, she was smiling too much. Their basket of chips was nearly empty now as she asked, “So what’s your job?”

“I teach dance.”

“Never would have guessed that,” Jyn said, dryly.

Cassian laughed (god, he was cute when he laughed). “Not just Salsa, other styles too,” he added. “I actually mostly teach kids classes, although sometimes I help out with the adult ones if there’s an instructor away or an uneven amount of people or something.”

“I bet there are kids even better at dancing than I am.”

“There are some kids better than me,” Cassian pointed out. “Still… I think we demolished these chips, by the way.”

She glanced down at them. “Oh, definitely. Your friend won’t be pissed we ate them all?”

“He’ll be pissed, he’ll get over it. Want to dance?”

“Oh–” Fucking shit. He was holding out his hand and jumping down from his bar stool and suddenly she wished she hadn’t eaten quite so much. “but we just ate–”

“We’ll burn off the calories.”

“I’m honestly shit at Salsa, like I could barely keep up with the beginners class–”

“If I do my job and lead you properly, then you’ll be fine I promise.”

Jyn reluctantly slid off her stool. “And if you fuck up?”

Cassian smiled. 

“I’ll buy you a drink to go with the chips.”

She… couldn’t argue that.

So despite her better judgement, she ended up taking his hand and following him to a relatively spare space within the dance floor. She hoped to god that Bodhi wasn’t still witnessing this because she would no doubt never hear the end of it, although it was kind of the least of her worries. There were too many things cycling through her head to pay attention to much else. She prayed that she didn’t fuck up her ankles in these heels, she hoped that no one accidentally stood on her or that she didn’t crash into anyone. Hell, she begged to all the primordial forces out there that she didn’t just fuck up in general.

At least the basic step she could do.

Cassian held her hands as she concentrated on getting the beat right – 1-2-3, 5,6,7 – and she could feel the sweat starting to gather at her hairline already. She practically held her breath during the first turn and he shook his head once she was back facing him once more.

“I can practically feel the anxiety coming off you,” he pointed out.

It was always hard to talk on the dance floor, what with the cacophony of the live band, people talking, glasses clinking and bar stools scraping. However, Cassian had made the effort to yell over it all and so she felt compelled to reply.

“That is a skill I am proud of, I’ll have you know,” she yelled back.

He just snorted. Instead of stepping forward he stepped back on the next bar, moving them through an open break turn and not even pausing before swapping their hands and leading her through a cross-body turn. “See?” he pointed out once she had thankfully not keeled over. “It comes naturally, you can do it!”

Ok, maybe a part of her knew it.

She knew she wasn’t absolutely completely fucking terrible, as she was determined to make it seem. She wasn't great either, but after a few of the beginners classes she had found herself picking up the rhythm. She struggled with anything fast, but eventually learned how to make her steps smaller and tighter. She wasn't bad…it was just hard to not compare herself when she was fully aware of the fact that she was currently partnered with an actual goddamn dance teacher. He moved into a close hold, hand curving up to rest between her shoulder blades as he swept her around and she tried to ignore the heartbeat currently slamming in her throat. This was supposed to be fun. She was supposed to be swept up into the music, uncaring of those around her, just moving and feeling. She could be fun, goddamn it! She supposed the tension in her arms was good at least for something as he continued to lead her this way and then that, changing the line depending on the crowd. With so many people, it was impossible to not stand on someone occasionally. She ended up half gasping, half laughing when Cassian lead her in a cross-body turn and she ended up slamming right into someone she recognised from Bodhi’s dance classes.  

“Oh, shit!” she mouthed to Cassian once the initial apologies were over.

“You ok?”

“I am,” she answered. “I don’t think my shoes are. Shit, do I actually have a dent in it?”

They took a moment to pause and glance down at where the other woman had literally stomped down on the back of her heel. Sure enough, running her fingers over the dance shoes that she had bought second hand online she could feel a dip. She grabbed his hand without thinking to ensure that he could feel it too, and she gripped his arm to keep her balance as she stood up on one foot.

“You have battle wounds now,” he teased.

“I guess so–”

She hastily cut herself off as the latest song apparently finished and her yelling was suddenly much louder as the music faded. The crowd cheered and they both clapped politely, several people leaving the dance floor, others coming to join. It was a mass of movement and Jyn hovered awkwardly for a moment, unsure of what she was supposed to do now. Etiquette said that they should thank each other for the dance before going and finding someone else, but some weird part of her knew a fucking vibe when it saw it, and wasn’t denying that it wanted to stay. For a wild moment it looked like he wanted to stay too, but unfortunately the next song that was strung up sounded off, and it took her several moments to click.

“Oh,” she screwed up her face. “this isn’t Salsa anymore, is it?”

“No, this is Bachata,” Cassian nodded.

“Christ,” she sighed. “I don’t know how to Bachata at all.”

“Do you know the basic step?”

Jyn cringed at the memory of the one Bachata dance she had attempted, the last time she had been dragged out social dancing alongside Bodhi. Thank god it had been with him. If it had been with anyone else she might have died of mortification, but remembering how she had awkwardly attempted to move her hips the right way made her want to throw up a little.

“It’s 1-2-3-hip or something, right? Or is it a tap, I can’t remember–”

“It just depends on which style you’re using, but honestly,” Cassian shrugged, tugging on her hands once more. “Just move your body, and you’ll be great.”

He started moving then as if to prove his point in the basic side to side motion that Jyn had to actively think about in order not to mess up. All around them, couples were already pressing up against each other’s bodies, rolling and grinding. Jyn was pretty sure that wasn’t the traditional Bachata, but then again much of her internal meltdown was probably because she was certain her hips just simply didn’t not move that way. She didn’t even realise how much she was glancing around anxiously until she caught Bodhi’s eye only several couples away. Now dancing with a girl that she recognised from classes with long brown braids, he mouthed at her in astonishment,

“WHAT THE FUCK?” 

“I DON’T KNOW.”

“THAT’S CASSIAN!”

Thanks, mate. She had no idea.

She was pulled away from the non-verbal conversation when Cassian lead her into what was probably one of the most simplest turns she’d ever had to do and yet she still somehow managed to botch it. Stepping with the wrong foot, she ended up on the wrong timing and exclaimed in frustration,

“Sorry! I told you I don’t know what I’m doing!” 

He stopped them. For a moment her heart pounded, sure he was about to politely call it quits and send her packing across the dance floor so that he could sweep up some other woman into his arms… except instead, he steadied her with his hands sliding down to her hips.

“You think you’re terrible, fine,” he started to grin. “Crash course in Bachata.” 

He started counting. His hands moved her hips with the beat of the song and shit, if she had blood, it was currently rushing to her face. Was anyone watching this? Another quick glance around however showed her that Bodhi had apparently already moved on and was now totally absorbed in having fun dancing with his friend and that literally no one else gave a shit. While a little disappointing to know no one cared, it was also admittedly… liberating to know that she could thrust her hips as awkwardly as she liked and no one would make fun of her for it. It took a while, but soon they were adding in the footwork and then her hands were being picked up again, the two of them finally having found their rhythm.  

“That’s it!” he said, happily.

She wasn’t quite sure how the knot in her throat managed to dissipate (and to be honest, she didn’t think it was going to entirely go away) but she did feel a hell of a lot better than when she had first stepped out onto the dance floor, and that said something. This time when Cassian led her in a turn, her feet automatically kept up the rhythm and she found herself with her back to him, arms crossed in front of her as he kept a hold of her hands. 1-2-3-tap, 1-2-3-tap…

It was slower than Salsa, which helped, not to mention less spinning like a top and more turning within his arms. When she was eventually brought back around to face him, he span himself before moving in and bringing her into a close hold. Jesus Christ. This close, their legs overlapped to avoid their knees banging into each other, and it may or may not have been causing a slight heart attack, she still wasn’t sure. They moved in a 360, around and around until she was let go and allowed to breathe again.

Maybe it was her mind just wrecking havoc inside her, but it almost felt lighter inside the pub now. She supposed it was the atmosphere of connecting with the person in front of you and tuning out the rest, or at least it was certainly hard to concentrate on anything else. She could imagine that drink Cassian had promised her, imagine that they danced together every weekend, that his hands sliding against her hips were familiar to her and that the chest she was pressed against was always warm and solid. She felt like she could let go and just fucking dance, and she wondered whether maybe he could feel it too. She was pulled into his body once more, his arms lifting hers up before his fingertips traced back down her sides. She slung her arms around his neck, her body settled firmly on his thigh. After a moment he bent her back so that she swung around, Jyn letting her head tilt back so that she could see the ceiling of the pub and the ends of her hair brushed against his arms. Pulled back up, she smiled into his shoulder.

He must have recognised the song enough to know when the end was coming. After feeling his leg sliding between hers, after swinging her hips in time with his, he eventually turned her around and with her back pressed to this chest, brought each of her arms up and over his head. Leaning to the side to see her, Jyn realised that he had ended their dance with perfect timing, left standing with their noses inches from each other, hands still clutched in his behind his head as they struggled to breathe. Jyn might have ignored all the polite claps and cheers for the band, might have even had the guts to say a giant fuck it in her head before closing the distance between them –

– when suddenly, her phone started buzzing in her pocket.

“Oh – shit, I’m sorry–” She pulled away and he hastily snatched back his hands, taking a step back. One glance at the caller made her stomach sink. “Fuck – I have to answer this – but thank you for the dance and the chips, it was really good! The dance, I mean, the chips too but the dance was – fuckity fuck–”

She made for the exit before she could glance back and see what was no doubt utter bemusement left on Cassian’s face. She hit answer on the way, finally speaking once she was outside the pub and out on the cold city street.

“Hey, Papa,” she said, wrapping her spare arm around her like it could retain the heat of the dance floor. “what’s up?”

“Jyn! My darling daughter–”

“Yeah, yeah,” Despite her slight disappointment, she smiled a little at hearing her father’s voice. She also heard rustling and clicking, along with Galen cursing under his breath every now and then.

“You aren’t busy, are you?” he asked. “I know it's kind of late, I can call back later or tomorrow even–”

“Nah, it’s fine, I’m just out with Bodhi,” Jyn immediately said. “How are you?”

“Oh, I’m grand – got the new T.V. finally!”

“The T.V. you’ve been meaning to buy ever since it went on sale two months ago, you mean?” Jyn teased.

“Har, har, you know how I am with crowds,” her dad scoffed. “I’m just trying to connect it now, but turns out it’s harder than I thought. There’s so many damn cords and – shite – I’m no good at this sort of thing at all! Technology was all your mother’s territory–”

She just knew what it must be like, her dad sat in the middle of a pile of cables, pretending to be ok with the fact that he didn’t have a wife to help him with this kind of thing anymore. He had been doing reasonably ok since the funeral – or rather as ok as anyone would have expected him to be – but he still called every day and there were still moments Jyn knew he was really only calling because he needed to have her near, rather than because he actually needed her help. She closed her eyes a moment, making the decision before her mind could consciously think about it.

“You’re terrible, Papa. Need me to come help?”

“You wouldn’t help an old man, would you?”

“I’ll be there soon,” she told him.

She hung up quickly so that she could give Bodhi a call to explain. He eventually picked up in the bathroom, still not entirely quiet, but at least able to hear what he was saying. “I gotta go help my dad,” she explained. “You all right if I leave?”

“I’m totally fine – are you, though?”

“Oh, you know,” she let out a long breath. “I think I might have to take up Bachata lessons again, mate.”

“I fucking saw you dancing with Cassian, SHIT, Jyn!” She could just imagine Bodhi practically hopping up and down in glee.

She smiled despite herself.

“Shit sounds about right.”

[beatsfortheillperth]

Words with Somanyfeels Part 2

Shot by @samuel_thecanadian⁣⁣

Julian aka Somanyfeels abilities with self-directed piecing of artistic trinkets is something we here at beatsfortheill admire about the various artists we get the opportunity to explore future readings and words with, and the big moves Julian is making under his accomplice is beyond the appreciation we are able to give via our blog, but this globetrotter isn't far of more global recognition.

As with writers' block on the mind for myself and then to suddenly, with true suave, have Julian, display his skills toying with human mood after my rough couple of weeks with a mix that truly helped me explore the various healing avenues that music can relate to us as individuals, going through everyday struggles.

So without further delay, let us take a moment to re-explore words with Julian a good friend and previous words with, and found out more about what his mix segment- "Endeavour v1" means to him and let us also dabble in his future endeavors and dreams, so with appreciate enjoy the following words with Somanyfeels.

Let us start with a few random generals to get the conversation flowing, a bit like a repeat from the last time we shared words, so let us see if things have changed up since then?

Favorite Food: A plate full of Al Pastor Tacos with a lot of lime and some horchata.

Favorite Beverage: Matcha tea

Favorite thing to do when you get downtime by yourself:  Take a Nap

Best place to enjoy a wine and view in Las Vegas: Highly recommend any desert area outside of Las Vegas. I love taking pictures and being outdoors with friends. There are some amazing views of the sunset at this place I go right by my house. My friends and I head down to the wash area by this singular tiny mountain and we just talk about life as the golden hour begins and ends.

Favorite piece of clothing and, why you hold a special bond with it: My favorite piece of clothing is actually jewelry. I have this blue-painted silver medallion that I received as a gift while exploring the medina in Fez, Morocco. It reminds me there is more going on in this world than what you see before you, and to try travel as much as you can.

Best song to break it down to at the moment: I would like to mention two tracks for this topic… KALI YUGA - GHOSTMANE & CLAMS CASINO & ANYMORE - FLAUNT EDWARDS

Best song to chill to on a hectic day: THUNDERSTORM - PRODUCERBOIBRAD

Favorite song to listen to at the moment: EARL (INSTRUMENTAL) - EARL SWEATSHIRT

Best Genre of music to listen to when craving emotional connection with one's self: Ambient music heals the soul.

Views on politics: American politicians should be prioritizing the environment over all other political issues. I also believe Americans bought into the illusion that we are in control of what our government does for the countries best interests. I’m not entirely sure about the rest of the world though, so I doubt my opinion has much weight with how things are going nationally and internationally. I think we need to just keep ourselves informed with the use of reliable news resources and we should also put more focus on keeping our planet as clean as we can.

Views on drinking milk throughout the day: Almond milk in a coffee, of course, but if it’s hot often where you are, like it is in Vegas, I would suggest sticking to water. I also think about that scene in Anchorman when Ron loses Baxter!

The Rabbit Hole - Shot By Rosemary Fajardo 

Thanks for answering those little rants, so let us get onto your music. 

You have been guest hosting on radio, sharing tunes with the world,

and also making some of the best blends and mixes I have ever had the privilege of listening to, much love.

What keeps you moving forward with your goals within the music scene? 

Also what have been some of the best tools you have had at hand reach when it comes to creating and delivering quality sets and blends? 

Thank you so much for the kind words about this particular craft of mine <3 I definitely feel that my friends who also make music in my circle, are the people who keep me closest to my love of mixing music and playing shows. 

Witnessing their work ethic grow with wisdom is some type of magic.

I certainly was not expecting to reach this magnitude within the Las Vegas music culture and I was at one time hosting my own radio show but decided to pursue a different route and become more intimate and technical with my musical presentations. 

Hosting your own radio show takes A LOT of time, which at the time was stressing me out. I felt like the quality of work I was putting out on a weekly became biweekly then seldom the basis was in decline. 

To people out there looking to pick up radio, it is extremely fun and teaches you a lot about communication and self-reliance. 

I also think it's totally fine to hit the reset button to keep your spirit up. You can always revisit your past projects and continue to pursue your love for the craft.

Mixing live in front of crowds while on stage is what I love doing now.

When mixing, I can use all Traktor controllers but am also familiar with Pioneer CDJ’s and controllers. 

Traktor is my main resource for feeling comfortable, well most comfortable on stage. 

I stick to using remix decks, 2-4 channels depending on the routine, with effects from both my controller and the house mixer.

Do you always have to schedule in time or does it just fall into a routine, creating I mean?

It is at random for mixes I create at home. When I feel it, I'll just go for it, but for shows, it does take a sort of scheduling presence and sorting of skills to make sure I feel prepared for the upcoming event. 

Keep in mind, not all shows are the same, so you have to really organize and then re-organize your playlists depending on the crowds you will be playing for and the vibe the event promoter will be expecting. 

In the end, as a DJ I believe firmly that it is your job to be the glue between artists before and after you.

You have to learn to look up at the faces in front of you too, sort of read how people are reacting to your song selection and with that, you have to try and adapt on the fly as much as possible.

I’m still trying to perfect this lol.

It has to be mentioned, you are quite a gifted photographer.

I had a scroll with a good friend through your shoots and you def know your angles, much love.

How far do you feel you've come from first experimenting with a camera to what I believe you are now, a self-proclaimed skill shooter down the lens?

Also, what is your favorite style of shoot to portray a scene via the lens?

Also, what's your preference time to shoot: Night or Day?

You are always learning and adapting with a cam.

I absolutely love it. 

I don’t think that I am that profound just yet since there is so much more I need to understand, but if you enjoy light painting images, then I would reference my work to you :) I am a night-time shooter mostly so I'd say night time with the exception of a good golden hour or blue hour shoot. Night shots feel like you and your subject are the only ones on the planet, and the ability to light up the night with a light source is pure sorcery! 

It reminds me a lot of Magic: The Gathering. a lot of the graphics from those cards inspire me to utilize an experimental light source.

Let's bring it back to the reason I am asking to have words with you again, and that reason is your creation, with essence -a new mix, titled "Endeavor v1".

It has to be one of my favorites, of many great mixes by yourself, and I am privileged to be featuring "Endeavor v1" on our SoundCloud alongside this interview, link to the mix is here.

Honestly, thank you!, you actually got me onto a few new artists that I had never heard of thanks to the beauty.

People like marrow with Kafia, Otrapic, and Carlo Frick; all artists that are truly pushing diverse waves and instilling moods all over, that I was yet to hear before Endeavor thank you! While we are on the topic, what are your personal views on these artists in the making? 

These artists are great and I highly recommend that you listen to them!

Otrapic’s sound resonates with me so much. As much as I love that hard gritty and ground splitting bass sound from artists in my library, the storytelling element that Otrapic has just levels me out and makes me want to tell my emotions to someone close.

 Carlo Frick makes your brain swivel in place. I’ve opened many sets with his music at the forefront of the tracklist- in fact - I think any hard set I play will include a sound from his discography. 

Kafia has that haunting element of like a siren’s presence underwater in her musical style. 

Keep in mind, these artists you’ve mentioned from Endeavor v1s tracklist are particularly underrated. 

Kafia shows that you have to really let loose upon yourself when digging deep into Soundcloud, Bandcamp, Spotify etc. 

Trust the flow of the search for music and you will find those gem artists turn-by-turn.

On the subject, again, what bought you to your mix concept for "Endeavors"? What type of day/night was it, and what had been playing in your head before you even thought to put the playlist together? 

It was super late. I came home after a night out in The Arts District of Las Vegas, and I just felt really sad. Anyone get that way after drinking too much and you’re like super on the edge of blacking out but have loads of energy that has been held so close for too long? 

I had to let it out and went into my little corner area in my house where all my plants and records are and just turned on the controller and played what I thought would express my feelings inside. I woke up the next morning and played it back and thought "oh shit this went fairly well", lol. Sometimes sadness can drive you to make some really interesting projects. It's okay to feel these feelings.

Will, there be follow on concepts for Endeavor? Like how you dabbled in your previous works "HUNT//GATHER which came in a 5 volume mix of ambient allure, much love again for that. I loved what HUNT//GATHER represented. I remember you saying "It is intended to put the listener out of their element and into something wild and untamed" talking about the five-volume.

Truly a unique artist you are my friend, much gratitude. 

If you do plan the volume for Endeavour, what would your goals and visions be for the project? Also what journey are you hoping to take your listeners on with works to come?

I appreciate the kind words on my previous mix series <3 <3 <3

and I think I would love to do something like that series again!!

Sure why not ;) This sound could work, I have loads more of this sound just sitting there looking for a home.

I think that could be the theme too!

“Searching for home, all the while achieving the tasks you set before you to prepare for your arrival”.

Something like that?

 A goal of mine would be to make it a journey for the listener to enjoy.

With Endeavor, if you could give one descriptive paragraph for all it embodies from your point of view what would you state?

It’s your interaction with the elements in our world.

It's packed with all beats airy, wavy and blissful to help tell the story of…whatever it is you see after hearing the track order, to be honest! Find someplace relaxing to you, maybe a productive place and play this out. 

I think it’ll bring you into some sort of meditative state :)

Any up and coming artists, music and beyond you could recommend and give us links to? 

INDESCRIBABLE INDY

https://indescribable.bandcamp.com/

WEIRDDOUGH

https://weirddough.bandcamp.com/

ONEONTHEBEAT

https://1blaps.bandcamp.com/

MATT NISH

https://open.spotify.com/artist/5IcGFKFypLHBm9fUCbhl1u

OUMUAMUA

https://soundcloud.com/oumuamua

LO THE DINO

https://soundcloud.com/lothedino

One of my favorite questions to ask, any musical recommendations?

Albums, songs, or a blessed mix like your own for example? 

I would personally recommend an artist by the name of Terekke.

His "Improvisational Loops" Album is filled with some of the most amazing ambient music I’ve heard.

https://www.musicfrommemory.com/release/6031/terekke/improvisational-loops

How have your previous experiences with doing live sets been going? 

I can only imagine the mood you would set. What has been your favorite experience as of late?

Well.. to be clear, I haven’t really done a full live set just yet.

With remix decks on traktor, switching over to those can be a kinetic experience with the audience. 

My real joy is to present sounds as a vibe selection - something that tells a story with energy exchange.

My challenge lately is looking at the crowd and reading their movements and my most favorite experience playing live is just glancing up after a transition and seeing a guy (pristinely dress) spilling his beer all over the floor while getting down.

I just really loved seeing that reaction to music. He didn’t care one bit and was just wayyyy into the song that was playing.

An old memory would have to be from a Halloween show years back at this venue called Velveteen Rabbit in the Arts District of LV.

I specifically remember just dancing harder than I’ve ever danced while dj’ing. Right in front of the small fold up table with my gear with all my friends just throwing their hands at me.

It felt like I was inside of a fireball.

I will forever cherish that night. connection to the crowd, close friends or newly met ones, that will always fuel me to play music.

Any up and coming shows or gigs you'd like to brief us on that you feel readers would be intrigued with checking out?

I just finished 2 sets for the end of October.

My birthday is Halloween, so I just want to spend time with friends and take photos throughout November.

I have a couple of collaborations in the works rn with some friends who need some photos; just have to see how they turn out.

As for music, I’m taking a month off from shows but I would like to play one for NYE. ;)

Any Last Words?

Please bear in mind that life is fragile.

We are on a rock that is highly susceptible to an array of destruction from uncontrollable forces we can’t even see coming from beyond the known cosmos.

Your milliseconds here are precious. what can you do to make the best of those moments?

Support Somanyfeels Here:

Somanyfeels Soundcloud - https://soundcloud.com/somanyfeelsmusic

Somanyfeels Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/_somanyfeels_/?hl=en

Somanyfeels Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/somanyfeelsphoto/

[queenofallcorgis]

A Beautiful Lie and a Painful Truth [Chapter Six]

Summary: Frankenstein Inspired. All Phil wanted to do was help people. Instead he was the apprentice to an eccentric old doctor in smoggy old England. He didn’t expect the doctor to dig up a body. He certainly didn’t expect the body to wake up.

Warnings: Murder, character death (but it doesn’t last), violence, abuse, homophobia

Previous Chapters: (1), (2), (3), (4), (5)

Thompson was definitely more wary around Dan after the breakdown. He would preform his experiments which Dan would follow through mechanically, eyes blank and dull. Their days were filled with simple experiments which Thompson was thrilled at, gathering data for his presentation that he was determined to reveal at the world fair. “How could he prove that he brought me back?” Dan huffed out a laugh, nibbling on his meat pie. “It’s going to be the most disappointing show ever. ‘Look at this man I brought back from the dead! No…it isn’t a lie, he’s right here!’” Phil allowed himself a smile, looking down at his own meal. Ever since he started his apprenticeship he had been trapped in his madman’s small world. He never really allowed himself any little joy, something he found himself experiencing with Dan. The younger man’s dry wit and sarcasm often resulted in a smile. Phil wasn’t really sure but he thought that Dan smiled every time he got one from Phil. “I doubt he’s thought that far ahead.” “Unless he plans on killing me and bringing me back at the world fair,” Dan laughed again but his laughter turned harsh and his eyes flickered. The teasing feeling faded and he was left in a horrible silence. Would Thompson go that far? Would he possibly murder Dan? He would. That realization hit Phil so hard he went breathless. It was a miracle Dan came back the first time. It might not happen again…it probably wouldn’t. Thompson would kill him again. Maybe Dan would stay in death or maybe he would come back again. He probably wouldn’t make as remarkable of a recovery. “We’ll leave,” Phil felt dazed and Dan looked up, mouth still full. “Tonight…after the doctor goes to sleep we’ll leave. I’ll take you home.” “But…your mother…your family,” Dan stuttered out. “I won’t let him hurt you anymore. You won’t die,” Phil said shortly. A smile spread over Dan’s face until his eyes were bright. He reached forward to grab the man’s forearm and squeezed. “Phil, you are a true friend and a good man,” he whispered. “And I swear that I’ll make it up to you.” The next few hours passed in a painful stretch. Thompson preformed some more experiments, including a horrible one where he forced Dan to vomit up his food to test the contents and see how well his digestive system was working. It always left the young man in tears, gripping a bucket and dry heaving. “Transcribe my notes into the book,” Thompson waved his hand, walking up the stairs to his apartment. The door slammed shut and Phil finally let out a shaky breath. They continued to loiter and wait, wanting to be absolutely sure that the doctor was asleep before they left. Dan’s eyes were bright with fear as he watched Phil start to gather up his coat. “You don’t have to do this. You are risking your life and the life of your family.” “And if we stay he will kill you. It is a risk I am willing to take,” a strange look passed over Dan’s face and he reached over to rest his hand on Phil’s arm. “I won’t ever be able to make this up to you.” “You’re getting me out of this place. That is thanks enough to me,” Dan whispered and took the offered coat. They made their way out the room, only pausing to let Phil take one last look. He had started his apprenticeship wanting to help people, to do his best to save others. For the first time, he finally felt like he was doing it. They walked down the dark streets of London and Phil noticed that Dan looked terrified. How would he feel at returning to his family who thought he was dead? No doubt he was scared out his wits. If they weren’t outside in public Phil would have taken his hand but instead he just bumped their shoulders together. “They’ll be so happy to see you,” he whispered as they turned down the streets. Perfectly manicured lawns and streets surrounded them and he could see the recognition dawning in his eyes. When they reached the Howell house Dan completely froze, his eyes huge in fear. “I don’t know if I can do this.” “I’ll be here by your side remember?” A small smile spread across Phil’s face as he rang the bell. The door swung open to see the same sweet maid. Her eyes drifted from him to Dan and froze completely. The girl’s mouth dropped open and she stumbled a step back. “Oh…oh! Master Daniel,” she breathed. “How…oh…Lady! Lady Eliza!” Her shrieks probably woke up the whole household but Dan seemed too stunned to even move. Footsteps thudded through the house and Eliza appeared in a dressing gown at the top of the stairs, hair loose and wild around her shoulders. “What in heaven’s name is going on?” She gasped out, taking a few steps down. “You’re screaming like…” Then her voice faded and she stared just as blankly as he maid had. A few heartbeats passed before she practically flew down the steps and threw herself at Dan, wrapping her arms around his neck. “It can’t be,” she pulled back, staring at him before hugging him again. “But…but you were dead! I saw your body.” “I know,” Dan hugged her back after a beat. “I’m sorry. I am…I’m back. I’m home.” Tears flooded Eliza’s eyes and she stepped back, cupping his face in her hands. “You are home.” There was a long moment of them just staring at each other and it looked like love. If Phil hadn’t known the truth, the truth about Dan’s preferences, he would had thought they were falling in love all over again. Maybe…maybe with his memory lost he could fall in love with her. Maybe with all of this Dan could live a long happy life with a wife and children. Why did that thought make something unpleasant twist in Phil’s stomach. “Phil…he saved me. He brought me back,” in more way than one. Dan turned back to him, eyes bright and alive. “Then you have our greatest thanks,” Eliza’s voice was thick. “He has no home,” Dan continued. “He’ll stay with us.” “Of…of course,” Eliza nodded, pushing her hair back. “You are always welcome here.” Dan locked his eyes with Phil’s and he smiled brightly. He would do anything to keep Dan looking that happy. And that thought was enough to make Phil give pause. In those long nights helping Dan become himself again how had he really grown to know him. Helping him eat and speak, laughing at his little jokes and celebrating every success, made his feelings grow. He truly cared for Dan and that feeling was just now coming to light. But as long as he could get Dan to smile that wide, even if it was because he was pushing him into the arms of another, he would do it.