#i will get cooler trinkets as the years go on… it’s not that deep

[nightvale-thoughts]

i think i just lost my tmagp kickstarter pin on the walk to work this morning… trying to be a brave girl at my workstation about all of this but i’m going to be mourning for a while

[elli3luvs]

falling in love at a coffee shop pt. 3 [ELLIE W]

summary: watching movies with your favorite barista was never easier

genre: fluff/angst

wc: 1.9k

a/n: thank you guys for loving this! i don't feel as if im too good at telling stories but im glad you guys enjoy it hehe sorry if i missed anyone on the tags as well!!!!

part two

Who even knew video stores were still a thing? You surely didn't think they were — you were almost certain they died out in the late 2000s with the rise of streaming services. Every store around town seemed to be shuttered up. But Ellie, being the cool girl she is, somehow knows of a still operating movie store. You have to admit, putting in a DVD somehow feels cooler than pulling it up on Netflix. There was something about the sound of the DVD player that made you a little giddy. The giddiness was totally not because of the girl standing in front of you.

Totally not.

She raises her eyebrows when the tray slides back into her DVD player, "Super cool, huh? Feels... retro." She lets out a shaky breath while rubbing the back of her neck. She makes her way over to the couch — plopping down, making your body slide closer to her. Her scent fluttered over your nose. She smelled woody and like coffee.

On brand.

You still couldn't believe you were sitting in Ellie's living room. The room smelled similar to her minus the coffee smell. The room wasn't necessarily tidy but it wasn't overly dirty. There wasn't trash everywhere but random trinkets were scattered over the surfaces. There were hoodies thrown over the backs of chairs and a couple of empty water bottles on her coffee table. Lived in is what you would describe it as. There were a couple of picture frames on a mantel above her TV but the room was too dark to make out the figures. 

"I haven't watched anything on DVD in like, I don't know, years." You let out a small laugh as the home screen pulls up. It was a movie you have never heard of, but it looked similar to Star Wars. Grand music filled the room before she turned the sound down a bit. 

Ellie nods at your words, "I love it," You turn your head to look at her. There was a giddy look in her eyes you have never seen before, "Going to the video store is, like, my number one hobby."

You laugh at the ridiculousness of that statement, "What about making coffee?" 

Ellie clicks the 'Play Movie' option and a bright light flashes over her face as the commercials play before the movie. You forgot movies used to have commercials even on the home versions. 

She rolls her eyes playfully at your question, "Making coffee is my job. Even though I love it, I definitely don't want to think of it once I'm out of there."

"I get that." 

A comfortable silence falls between the two of you. It's hard not to stare at her through your peripheral. All you wanted to do was stare at her. You feel her legs pressed against yours, her legs spread a little more than yours. You take in a deep breath so you don't freak out at the contact. 

God, is this middle school? 

You shift your eyes slowly over to her figure, just wanting to take a tiny little peek. She was too pretty not to look at. It wasn't weird to look casually, right? When your eyes connect with hers, though, you rip them away while you blink rapidly. 

Shit, she was already looking? 

A pounding feeling against your chest makes it nearly impossible to focus on the now-playing movie. A spaceship rips through outer space as the main actor barks orders at his crew on the ship. Techno music plays in the background. You had no clue what was happening as a little vermin-looking creature started speaking in a made up language. 

Was she still looking? Surely she had to be focusing on the movie she chose. She looked so excited to start it. She definitely wasn't staring at you anymore.

You slowly move your eyes across the room and slightly turn your head to look at her. Your eyes connect with her green eyes once more but instead of looking away, you keep them there. You can feel your face flush under the intense gaze she has you under.

Ellie's eyes widen once she realizes you weren't going to look away. Another flash from the TV illuminates her features. You could tell that she was blushing. Neither of you looked away even as the tension built.

She was so cute.

"I can't," She starts, voice barely more than a whisper, "I can't focus on this."

You smile at her, "I definitely have no clue what is going on," Ellie smiles at your honesty, "Turn it off. We can just talk."

Ellie seems to like your suggestion as she reaches her hand out and presses the off button on the remote. She fully turns toward you. Your knees knock against each other with how close the proximity is.

Ellie rubs her hands together while a breathy laugh escapes her lips, "I guess I'll ask the question that's been burning me the most."

A laugh bubbled out of your throat, "What is this 21 questions?" Ellie joins your laughter at the realization of what she's doing, "Go ahead, I guess. I might have an answer for you."

"What's your major? And... why did you decide to come into my coffee shop that day?"

"Woah, these are... really hard-hitting questions." You sarcastically reply. Ellie pushes your shoulder lightly with a chuckle. She mutters, Shut up' before looking back at you with expectant eyes. There was a glint in her eyes.

You loved the way she looked at you.

"I'm a literature major, boring I know, and the reason I went in is that my friend dragged me there," Ellie acts fake offended at your response, "I actually hate coffee."

Ellie gawks at the last part, "You what?"

You throw up your hands in surrender, "Don't hate me. It is just so nasty to me."

"I feel as if you have just shot me. You always order something," Ellie's hand goes over her heart in a dramatic manner, "But if I'm being honest, I don't really like it either."

You shoot up from your position. Ellie may have been faking shock but this was true for you, "What do you mean? You own the coffee shop!"

Ellie copies your surrender motion, "I know. I know. The only reason I opened the shop, well became a barista in the first place, is because my dad really loves coffee," You can feel your heart melt at the kind words, "Gave us something to bond over."

"That's really cute, Ellie." You look at her with eyes gushing with love. You hoped she couldn't tell how infatuated you were becoming with her.

"I know, I'm adorable," She leans in closer as if she's about to reveal a huge secret to you, "You do realize we have other drinks than coffee, right?"

She laughs at the way your face pales and how your eyes widen, "Oh my god!"

Her laugh was perfect.

It was becoming impossible to ignore your feelings for much longer. Each moment was another reason to fall for her. She was extremely sentimental and super observant, remembering the tiny details. Ellie was the first to notice if you parted your hair a different way or did a new thing with your makeup. It made your heart soar with happiness when she remembered another tiny detail from you.

Throughout the rest of the night, you guys talked about random things on that stupid couch situated against the wall. You talked about her love of space and how she wishes she could see the stars up close at least once. You talked about your worries and fears, things you wanted to do when you grew up, and the things that make you happiest.

You got closer to her with each passing second, knocking knees turned into your legs thrown over hers. That turned into you scooting closer (almost sitting on her lap) and your head leaning against her shoulder.

You weren't sure when you fell asleep. All you knew was it was the most comfortable you felt in a while.

--

Burning light was what woke you up. It definitely wasn't how you wanted to wake up, much preferring the smell of food cooking. Damn those stupid curtains for being pulled back. You furrow your eyebrows at the blinding light, not yet used to the morning sun. Your hand shoots out to feel around where you were. Still on the couch but no Ellie. You blink the bleariness away from your eyes while wondering where Ellie went.

There's slight muttering coming from the kitchen, it's hushed but urgent. There she is but you can't make out what or who she is talking to. You sit up from your laying position, back aching from sleeping on the tiny couch. Your ears strain to hear the conversation.

"Wasn't really expecting... come home... random girl!" That definitely wasn't Ellie's voice. It was too high-pitched and sweet.

"...Quiet... still sleeping... been broken up... had no right." There was the voice you came to know. 

Curiosity filled your mind at the quiet talking in the kitchen. She never mentioned a roommate while talking to you last night. You fully push yourself off of the couch and creep your way to the area they were in. Ellie's back was turned from you so you got a glimpse of who she was talking to.

It was a shorter girl with black hair with an angry expression painted on her features. Her eyes landed on you and she scoffed. 

Oh shit. She was furious.

"Great," Her voice cut the tense silence, "Now she's walking around as if this is her house."

Ellie whipped around with a look that made your heart stutter. It looked as if she had been caught doing something wrong.

She gave you an apologetic look, "Cat, can you for once..." She cut herself off, reaching out to you, "Hey, listen-"

You decided to cut her off this time while stepping back, "You never told me you had a girlfriend. This changes a lot, Ellie." 

Cat scoffs again at your words. Her arms cross over her chest as she mutters, 'Good god, Ellie.' Ellie gives her a pointed look before turning back to you.

"I can fully explain this." Ellie's words are punctuated by the movement of her hands. They were shaking slightly. 

'She's just stunned that she was caught,' an evil voice in your head bounced around.

You shake your head, "No need to." You turn on your heels ready to get the hell out of the tense situation. Ellie calls your name but once you are out the front door she doesn't make any moves to run after you.

"Great," You roll your eyes trying to ignore the feeling of your heart shattering, "This is fucking great."

You couldn't wait to talk to Dina.

tags: @ellieismami, @minillie, @dankpunks, @elliesgff, @muthafuckingstargirl, @deafelliewilliams, @pinkazelma, @fairybr3ad, @me-and-your-husband, @intrnetdoll, @kyleeservopoulos

[echos-newlegs]

Number 22 off the prompt list with echo or fives with he/him pronouns 😳😳 pls and thank you 🙏🏽

Missing You

Ahh this would be so cute with Echo. May or may not be biased because— I love him with all my heart, but since you offered you get Echo. You are a medic in this because, uh yeah I am SO creative. But anyways, Echo calls you Doc because I dunno how to use cooler nicknames.

Echo x Male!Reader: “I remember practicing to ask you out in the mirror.”

Warnings: It is a little sad because I am kind of in my feels rn. It has its fair share of happy stuff though, don’t worry.

You were a medic, that often worked along side Kix in the Medbay. The first time you and Echo met he was in with a blaster shot to the leg. It wasn’t anything that you couldn’t help in healing, though. Taking over for Kix as he tended to one of his other brothers.

You were calm and collected. Starting conversation with the man to distract him from the pain as you disinfected and then patched up his wounds. Eyes flickering up to look to him when he would wince and tense up. Though he gave you a look that said, ‘I’m fine, keep going.’ So you did.

Echo always requested to have you helping him. Claiming that you were more gentle than his brother was. Which you were, in some ways, but honestly he just wanted an excuse to hear your voice. To be near you. After a few visits, he would start looking for you when he knew you weren’t working. Go out of his way to walk with you to your quarters, or to the mess. Or to wherever you were going. It made your day. You absolutely loved it. He was so kind, and thoughtful. He listened to you, let you talk, and even shared stories with you on the days that you weren’t really in the mood to hold a solid conversation.

But now? Now that was all gone. Now you wouldn’t be seeing him in the medbay, or the mess, or bump into him in the halls. You wouldn’t be able to sit in your quarters with him and eat some of the snacks you snuck in for him from the last mission that you were needed out on the field. He wasn’t able to bring you trinkets from the planets that he visited. None of that was able to happen again. All you had was your memories.

Your damned memories that seemed to be slowly fading after months went by without him. You were beginning to forget how he laughed. Sure his brothers shared the same laugh, but something about his was unique. You were beginning to forget little details, and it upset you more than anything. The others in the 501st could tell, too. They all knew you and Echo were close. Even Fives could see that the two of you wanted to be more than friends. It wasn’t rocket science. So, the moment Rex found out that Echo could be alive. He made it his mission to not only save him for Echo, but for you as well.

Echo wasn’t the only trooper that loved your smile and your kind heart. So he hoped if he got him back for you. Even the closure of his body, then it would finally put you at ease.

You weren’t told about any of this. Not until you heard troopers talking about how they found a POW. You were curious, to say the least. Finding one of the shines that was talking about it with his brothers. “Who was the prisoner?” You asked with a brow raised. You had lost so many men, so many friends after Echo, that you never believed it would be him. Though a piece of you, deep down. Screamed and shouted in hopes that they would say his name or number.

“An Arc Trooper, sir, went by the name of Echo. They’re bringing him back here with Clone Force 99.” The shiny informed you, and you felt your heart stop. Your eyes were darting around. Breathing picking up a bit, this was a joke, wasn’t it? It had to be. Rushing off past the men to find someone to fill you in on what in stars name was happening.

You sooner or later ended up getting a hold of General Skywalker. He could tell you were distressed. “What sort of sick joke is this?” You spat, starting in before Anakin could even get a word in. “The shinies are talking about how Echo is alive? That’s impossible. I was there when the explosion happened, he’s not, why are they saying this?” You were on the verge of tears as you paced your quarters. Running your hands through your hair. “Oh, he’s alive alright. Why don’t you come outside?” He spoke with a smirk. Anakin knew about your feelings for Echo, and you knew he didn’t mind. He was supportive, even. Anakin always treated you like the little brother he never had, and told you to go for it a number of times. Though you never did, and you greatly regret it.

“Y/n, just come outside and see for yourself.” You were brought back to the conversation. Biting your bottom lip and hanging up on the general. Rushing out the door and down the hall. Until you were exiting the hanger and finding a group of people gathered around.

Your stomach was turning. Heart pounding in your chest. Then the world felt like it froze when you saw him. He was talking with a group that you knew had to be Clone Force 99. You knew it had to be Echo, his armor didn’t match theirs. He looked like a clone, at least. If it was, he looked horrible. But not in a way that you still didn’t want him just as bad as you did nearly a year ago.

You were stuck in place, waiting for him to turn, and when he did. His eyes fell on you. His expression dropped, and he froze up as well. “Cyare..” You watched his lips mouth. Your eyes tearing up, it was him. It was Echo. Your Echo.

You started with a fast walk, and then a jog over to the other. Him moving towards you nearly just as fast. The two of you extending your arms and then engulfing one another in a hug. Something the two of you missed more than you could both remember. “Echo, I- Are you okay? oh my force I’ve missed you so much-“ You sobbed as you burried your face in his neck and he rested his forehead on your shoulder. “I’ve missed you so much, too, Doc, not a day went by I didn’t think about you.” He murmured, and that made the dam break. Tears falling from your eyes in streams.

You were at a loss for words, the two of you holding onto one another for what felt like forever, but honestly it wasn’t long enough. “You’ve changed your hair?” He muttered, reaching up to run his fingers through your hair with his good hand. It was longer than the last time the two of you saw each other. “You changed yours, too.” You murmured. Reaching up and running your fingers over the top of his head. Causing the two of you to snicker a bit.

You both parted slightly so Echo could rest his forehead on your own. His eyes, unlike his skin. Were still bright and had some life in them. Your hand falling to cup his face with a small smile. “Y/n?” You raised your brows a bit. His voice was soft, and stars you missed him saying your name. You missed his voice in general. “Yeah?” You spoke in a near whisper. Shuddering a bit as his hand ran to cup the back of your neck.

He looked nervous. Eyes darting to the side and then back to yours. Gulping, even. “Echo, what is it?” You asked again, and he sighed. “I know, I just got back, but I don’t wanna waste my chance, not now, not ever. Never again,” You stared at him, creasing your brows. What was he saying? “I want to take you on a date, just the two of us, I don’t know where, but.. Kriff, Y/n I like you, and I have since the first time I met you. I maybe even love you, you were what kept me going, you kept me fighting. Because I knew you would be there when I got back. Even if you got into a relationship with someone else, you would be there for me, like old times.”

You were tearing up again, and you could see the panic in his eyes when another tear drop rolled down your cheek. “You do-“ You couldn’t speak, for you knew you would just break down. Which would scare him more. So you reached up and cupped his face with both hands now. Pulling him in for a kiss. Interrupting whatever he was about to say.

The kiss was soft, Echos hand stiffening, then relaxing. Along with his lips. Both your guys’ eyes falling shut as he moved his arms down to wrap around your torso. This was when you felt the metal of his other arm. Making you even more angry and upset. They hurt him so bad, but that didn’t change how you felt about him.

The two of you parting after some time. Huffing out breaths as you both tried to steady your breathing and racing hearts. Even though you were both on cloud nine. “I remember practicing to ask you out in the mirror.” Echo blurted. You looking to him with a shocked expression. “You did?” You asked, and he smiled shyly. Looking down towards the ground. “Yeah.. I did, Fives was tired of hearing me talk about you all day, so he told me to take it like a real one and ask you on a date, so I would talk to myself in the mirror.” He spoke, catching your eyes again.

Your gaze softened on him, and the mention of Fives pained you. You were going to have to tell him about what happened, it was the right thing to do, but it wouldn’t be now. That was a conversation for another time. “Yeah? Well, it paid off in the end.” You hummed, and he tittered. Kissing your forehead with a sigh as you leant agains him. “Yeah, yeah it did.”

[unholyplumpprincess]

Self Care

Commission for @ago-fucks of miragehound/reader with reader getting pampered after working such long nights and being exhausted. They’re spoiled with lots of domestic fluff in the beginning and then lots of orgasms.

Reblogs > Likes. It cost zero dollars to reblog the fics you like :D

Relationship: Mirage/Bloodhound/Reader

Fandom: Apex Legends

Warnings: R18+/NSFT, Reader has a vulva, Mirage is trans and words to describe are cunt/clit/pussy, Bloodhound has a penis and words described are dick/cock, Ago’s headcanons and not mine so Bloodhound is written different!, Fluff, sex ofc, but otherwise nothin rough?, collars, mentions of safe words/signals but only cause it’s heALTHY

Words: 5k

___________________

When you were in a relationship with two of the infamous Apex games legends, you learned really quickly that every day would be a new surprise. At least, in the beginning. Now comfortably having been together for a few years, you find yourself immersed in both of them in a familiarity that brings warmth to your chest.

Though their jobs may have been going into a mini battlefield and shooting each other up on a daily basis for the seasons, that didn’t stop you from working at your own job. Art was a difficult field to pursue. From the schooling to the finding a job part. You loved your job, able to chase your passion! Yet, you were still very worked to the bone and found yourself aching from hunching over your desk to work through these character concepts for an upcoming cartoon. Your legs ached with the need to move from their constant folded position and all in all you were just tired.

Thankfully, your partners were ever so careful with you when they were home for the season ends. Bloodhound was always first to lie you out for a massage, kissing over your jaw and neck or down the line of your spine with utter gentleness. Elliott was a good listener, letting you rest your head in his lap while he stroked your hair and you either whined or excitedly showed him the new concepts via your phone. Both were entirely supportive, but also concerned for your wellbeing.

~Rest under the cut~

So, you’d come home today. Tired and murmuring in a quieter voice as you rubbed at your eyes, nursing a migraine. Elliott had suggested a quiet movie, already knowing you’d fall asleep during it even if you tried to whine otherwise. And lo and behold, not thirty minutes into it, you’d fallen asleep on the couch. Head on Elliott’s thigh while he stroked through your hair, and legs thrown over Bloodhound’s lap who was lovingly stroking down your thigh to your knee, then back.

“They need a day of spoiling.” Elliott murmurs, low enough not to wake you but loud enough for Bloodhound to hum in agreement. Elliott traces around your ear, tucking your hair and smiling when you sigh and nose at his thigh in return. “When’s their next day off?”

“Mmh. Tomorrow, I believe.” Bloodhound murmurs in return, stroking up to your hip to gently fix your shirt back into place that had ridden up. Stroking back down your thigh and smiling softly as you squirm a bit. “Let us get them into bed and we can discuss something. I am sure they would like your cooking. If you are up for it.” With that said, they carefully move your legs off their lap, watching you snuggle closer to Elliott. Carefully, they scoop under your body. Powerful arms able to cradle you as they go to tuck you into bed.

--

When you wake in the morning, your senses are first assaulted by the scent of pancakes cooking downstairs. You grumble a bit, feeling warm arms holding you in bed and a solid body pressed against you. A small turn of your head into their neck proves to be a mini space heater and the scent of pine and cinnamon. You smile, nosing into Bloodhound’s neck and feeling a scar residing there. “Good morning.” You murmur tiredly.

You hear them hum softly, already awake and aware as their fingers trace up under your shirt on your back. Smoothing their warm, calloused hands up your spine then back down. “Breakfast is not ready yet. You still had a few moments of rest,” They start, moving a hand from your back to gently cup your cheek, drawing you from your warm spot so you may make eye contact. Brown eyes so deep they could be black peer back at you, forming half little moons as they narrow in amusement at your sleepy appearance. “Torskildir- you are lovely, my dear.”

You laugh at them instead, sitting up on your shoulder so you could kiss one of their scarred, soft cheeks. “And you, are incredibly sappy in the mornings.” Their smile only deepens at you, dimples forming on their cheeks and wrinkles at the corners of their eyes. Beautiful, you think.

When you two finally do crawl out of bed, with Bloodhound insisting that you dress comfy for today and that they both had plans for you, you obey and only change into lounging clothing. They stay without a mask as you two head downstairs, only to be met by Elliott who has a bit of batter smeared on his cheek but beautiful wild berry and wild violet pancakes made. Freshly picked by Bloodhound this morning. You near about tear up at both your partners’ sweetness, sharing a good morning kiss with Elliott and remarking that he must have tasted the ingredients before fixing them together. Which earns you a cheeky grin and a finger over his lips that Bloodhound rolls their eyes at.

Throughout the day they spoil you in little ways. You all three end up sitting down for a marathon of your favorite movies, complete with blankets and you napping partial ways through them. Attention of your hair being petted and your legs causing you to go into a tired little stupor every now and then. You occasionally peek open your eyes to keep watching, or to turn your head and receive much needed kisses from Elliott, his stubble tickling your face.

When lunch time comes around, you’re not too hungry from a big breakfast so Bloodhound settles on making a little something with fresh herbs and berries. Fresh mint and different flora add an aesthetic touch to the fruit salads that make them even tastier.

You’re spoiled even then, taking berries from Elliott’s fingers and playfully sucking on his thumb’s fingertip when he lingers too long. Relishing as his face turns three shades darker and he averts his gaze with a soft, nervous laugh as he draws his hand from you. Bloodhound, who had been watching from close by, snuggled deep in their parka for the cooler weather, had merely smirked ever so knowingly at you.

They meet Elliott’s eyes who offers a charming half smile as they have a silent conversation together briefly.

Once it reaches dinner time, you’re kicked out of the kitchen much to your whining. Muninn and Arthur are even kicked from the kitchen, but you’re sure it’s just to keep you out of it. Arthur is much more snuggly, bringing you trinkets he finds around the house with little hops and crooning at you if you pick them up and thank him. Muninn lingers near your head, much more interested in preening your hair and watching the movie on the screen that’s playing in black and white with soft jazz coming from it.

Occasionally you get up, hearing the birds hopping after you as an alert to Bloodhound who easily comes sliding out of the kitchen to guide you back to the couch with harmless scolding. Their parka has been long since discarded for the warmer kitchen, now in dark tactical pants that fit them just right and a tight black tunic. You want to run your hands over their scarred, dark haired arms, and you try to but they gently shoo you away with a soft kiss to your nose. “Later, beloved. Be patient.” Is all the promise they give you before heading back to the kitchen.

You curse that their little cottage isn’t an open concept so you could watch them. Left to hear them idly talking with the music playing from Elliott’s speakers. Occasionally you hear giggling and some soft sounds that sound suspiciously like kissing and you can't help but smile every time at the happy noises.

You were so lucky.

When you’re finally allowed into the kitchen, you’re guided to the dining table made by hand from Bloodhound. The whole kitchen is carved by hand as well, now looking like a proper home with little nick nacks from their ravens, Elliott, and yourself on the shelving. Some dishes need to be washed, but otherwise everything is rather picked up already.

You’re already excited to dive in. Elliott happily introducing his glazed porkchops that you like so much and hand mashed potatoes. Once again, another item grown in Bloodhound’s beautiful garden outside, but the meat was from a local butcher. Herbs for seasonings collected from their indoor garden sitting on the nearby windowsill.

Bloodhound, since berries were in season and plentiful, had made a blueberry pie. The cut work was beautifully done lain on top for the crust to be little cut outs of hearts. Elliott proudly exclaims that he helped, only for Bloodhound to make a pointed gesture to the little heart cookie cutter and Elliott having to defend himself. It WAS still helping, he’d whined!

Your laughter makes them both stop to stare at you with absolute adoration in their eyes that you see when you peek open your eyes and flush to your ears at the attention.

Dinner goes nicely. Elliott is a little magician as always, getting up at some point and showing off a magic trick involving making a decoy with himself to pull another decoy out of seemingly nowhere. Fit with both you and Bloodhound clapping for him and watching him bow at the waist all dramatically.

Bloodhound tells stories from their trips for the past week and why your freezer was stocked with a foreign meat. Not to mention their delight in foraging the fresh berries going around. They talk happily of their own garden as well, thanking Elliott for helping them set it up and get dirty today by collecting potatoes for dinner.

The clean up afterwards you’re not even allowed to help. You try collecting dishes like you would on a regular day and you’re shooed away. You at least put up a fit, a little pout and say you’ll just watch. Bloodhound tries to argue, but Elliott gently bumps them with his hip playfully. “Aw, come on, babe. You ain’t gotta deny them EVERYTHING. If they want to watch the show of ‘house spouse extraordinaire’ playing LIVE in person right now, who are we to stop them?” He then laughs a bit at his own joke before flexing his arms upwards, making his shirt rise to show his midriff and the dark patch of hair going up to his navel. You can’t help but shamelessly stare. “Besides, who wouldn’t want to watch THIS play house husband of the year?”

Even Bloodhound is staring at the little bit of flesh exposed. Elliott left standing like that until he finally figures out why no one is laughing or saying anything back when he catches both of your hungry stares. He scoffs out a choked laugh, cheeks warming and holding a hand flat up to the both of you in a gesture as if you two were hungry lions that he needed to ward off. “Alright you predators, you can look later.”

And you would. In depth. Pay close attention, you decide, thinking about looking at way more later. Not that you had any idea they already had plans for you later in the bedroom.

It’s Elliott who winds up leading you to the bedroom as Bloodhound finishes up the rest of the dishes. He guides you softly to bed, the sheets and furs on it tossed this way and that. Thankfully you three had a huge bed that spanned a whole wall of the room, courtesy of Bloodhound’s ability to build who said it was a tragedy that beds did not come big enough for a pack like yours.

Softly, Elliott cups your cheek and thumbs over the soft flesh there as he sits next to you. You smile softly, leaning into his palm and already knowing what he wants. He was always much softer about his wants, almost anxious. “Are you up for fooling around tonight?” He murmurs with such softness, his thumb sliding over your bottom lip where you pucker to press a soft kiss to his thumb pad. You hum in agreement back to him, but he just laughs softly. “Need to hear you say it, baby.”

Your lips quirk up at his soft tone, peeking open your eyes half lidded to peer at him. Catching Bloodhound slipping into the room behind him to come approaching softly. “I’d like to, yes.” You offer full consent, watching when Bloodhound’s lips pull into a charming crooked smile, but their eyes scream primal.

“We want to pamper you.” Elliott continues softly, drawing your attention back to him. You can’t see Bloodhound, but you feel them slip behind your body to set hands on your waist, lips pressing warmly to the nape of your neck. Elliott keeps your attention on him, leaning in until you’re near nose to nose and your breath hitches at the closeness. Your own eyes flicking down to his lips and flicking your tongue out to wet your own. “You deserve it. You’ve been working too hard. You won’t have to lift a finger, baby.” His voice is so gentle, lower and almost a hum as he speaks.

Then his lips pull into a charming grin, eyes narrowing as he nuzzles his nose to yours. “Well. Maybe one finger, just a sec,” He moves as he speaks, pulling from you and making you whine. But, Bloodhound takes this moment to pull you back a bit into their lap, sinking their teeth gently into the crook of your neck from behind. It makes you whine faintly, reaching back to fist their coarse, dark auburn hair. They proceed, open mouthed kisses over the exposed flesh they can have at.

Elliott soon returns after a moment or two out of your sight. He has four different collars in his hands, you can hardly focus on him offering them to you when teeth nip at your ear. “T-the- the blue one.” You manage to get out, reaching out to take the light blue collar, the silver heart buckle making your heart flutter.

Thankfully Bloodhound separates from you long enough for Elliott to put it around your neck with utmost gentleness. Buckling it into place and tucking two fingers underneath to make sure you had enough room. You kiss at his retreating hand, eyes sparkling playfully up at him as he smiles back at you. “Alright, sweetheart. Safe words remembered? I don’t think we have anything too hard planned for you,” He pauses briefly to glance at Bloodhound, who must have shaken their head since Elliott nods back in reply as if reaffirming his words. “But, just in case it gets too much?”

“Red for absolutely stop, yellow for a break, green for keep going.” You reply, forming your hand signals for each. You snap twice on red, make a flat palm upwards for yellow, and thumbs up for green. Simple signals for you all to remember. Bloodhound hums behind you appraisingly, licking over where they’d bitten you before just above your collar and effectively distracting you.

Gently your shirt is tugged on from behind, pulling it up and over your head as Elliott leans in to you to press his soft lips to yours. You moan into the kiss softly as he cups your cheek, your pants’ waistband being toyed with by rough hands behind you. Bloodhound’s skilled hands tuck under the waistband to grope at your sex, palming at it and feeling how slick you already are on their fingertips through your underwear. They growl in your ear approvingly, sending a shock down to your core at the same time Elliott bites your bottom lip to draw a sound from you.

You’re soon being moved again, off Bloodhound’s lap to the middle of the bed where they urge you to undress. Elliott crawls up after you to rest by your head, having taken off his shirt to just be left in his sweatpants. Your eyes flicker up to him, catching the sharp-edged scars under his pecs and feel yourself longing to lick and suck at his nipples. You work the rest of your clothing off, shakily exhaling as you lie still and keep your thighs pressed together almost shyly.

“Always so beautiful, precious one.” Bloodhound murmurs, eyeing you up hungrily as their bare hands stroke softly over your thighs. They’re in their tunic from earlier and tactical pants, dressed down in their opinion. Their nails scrape over your outer thighs, down to tuck under your knees and gently spreading your legs. You allow it, going willingly as your legs part and they fit between your knees. They inhale deeply where they sit on their knees, eyes fluttering as their breath comes back out just as shaky. “As delicious as you are stunning, ástin mín.”

Your face flushes pink as they move to lie on their abdomen, warm hands gently holding open your thighs as they nuzzle between your legs. Your cunt flexes around nothing, even before they part you open and lick their way from hole to clit. You shudder, one hand coming up that is taken immediately by Elliott, the other coming down to fist Bloodhound’s hair as they press open mouthed, hot, sloppy kisses over your clit. Gently suckling and pulling on it as your toes curl into the sheets.

“Yeah, keep making that sound.” Elliott encourages when you let out a soft whine. His free hand not holding yours gently strokes over your cheek, pushing back your head when your head twists to bury yourself against his knee. He admires the way your lips part, idly wondering if you’d put your mouth to use too- but, no, this night was all about you.

He can’t help but let his eyes trail down your frame to Bloodhound, whose eyes are half lidded to peer up at your facial expressions. Their tongue flicks over your clit before they open their mouth obviously to drool over your clit, hot breath fanning over you. Elliott’s lips quirk in a small grin when you whine and squeeze his hand harder, undoubtedly fisting Bloodhound’s hair harder in turn. It only earns you a soft chuckle from Bloodhound who relents and drags their tongue over your u-spot to tease before sealing their lips back over your clit.

Elliott’s hand in your hair strokes back your hair from your forehead when your head twists the other way. Letting go of his hand so you can reach down and grab Bloodhound’s hair in both your hands to try and urge them. Your hips thrust upwards, desperately humping against their mouth as you begin to lose it. You can feel yourself drooling slick, eagerly licked up by the oh so talented tongue treating you.

It’s too good. With Elliott’s gentle praising above you and stroking of your hair, the way Bloodhound’s lips mouth and suck on your clit and pressing relentlessly against you, you can’t take it. You squirm and buck upwards, only to find Bloodhound pulling backwards.

Your eyes snap open, a confused whine from your lips. “I thought I was being pampered!” You cry out, your voice strained and breath panting. Bloodhound laughs at you, they can’t help it, nuzzling at your mound and breathing hot air onto you. You obviously pout, still throbbing and body alight, but they shush you softly.

“C’mon, Hound, don’t tease.” Elliott offers, coming to your rescue. You smile up at him in thanks, relishing in the annoyed huff you hear between your thighs. Bloodhound was always such a tease, but at least they get back to work. Nuzzling you open and fixing their tongue back against you. They’re slower than before, less focused on pleasuring you fully and just circling your clit with the point of their tongue. Motherfucker-

Right when you’re about to grab at their hair harder, they introduce a finger stroking over your hole. When you don’t say anything besides ‘please’ repetitively under your breath, they press it inside. Quickly followed by a second when you prove to be wet enough to take it.

With their fingers now scissoring and tongue focused back on you, it takes you maybe a total of thirty seconds before you’re cumming with a cry. Elliott is quick on you, leaning down to kiss you and swallow your soft cries. Licking into your mouth when you can’t seem to focus and taking advantage of your noises. Two of his fingers slip under your collar, gently tugging upwards and Bloodhound at the same time feels you clench and gush around their fingers more.

Absolutely beautiful.

Bloodhound is careful about moving their face from your legs. Only pausing to come back and press open mouthed, sloppy kisses over your clit or gently licking over you. Their fingers never stop, lazily petting upwards inside of you as their own hips grind against the bed to ease their cock. Elliott isn’t doing too better, parting softly from your kiss to gently suck on your jawline to leave a bruise. Moaning into your skin at your very taste and how wet he is himself.

You’re so unfocused from the dual ends of attention. Hips pressing up briefly every time Bloodhound teases you again and tilting your head to the side to allow Elliott more access.

It takes a few moments to regain yourself, but you turn your head just in time to peck at Elliott’s cheek, murmuring softly. “Want you to sit on my face. Please?” It makes him laugh softly, sitting back on his knees to look down at your pleading eyes, face all flushed.

“You know we’re supposed to be spoiling you, right?” He teases, bopping your nose with his index finger in the way that makes you crinkle your nose. You pout harder, more dramatic and he rolls his eyes, relenting as he wiggles out of his pants and boxers without much of a show. But, you and Bloodhound still stare at the flesh exposed.

Elliott has trimmed body hair, always kept tidy unlike Bloodhound’s fluffy mess you enjoy so much. When his boxers are removed, you can see his own sex glistening and wet, hair darker at the slit of his cunt. His clit is enlarged from T, peeking a good amount from his lower lips and looking red from his arousal. You lick your lips eagerly, spreading your legs open and peeking down at Bloodhound who is already working their pants down to mid-thigh.

Bloodhound’s cock is the thickest thing you’ve ever seen in your life. As thick as your wrist, you think. They’re only about five inches long, but the thickness certainly made them a tight fit. Their hair on their body is never trimmed, kept fluffy and wild much like they are. It’s flushed at the head, their hand giving an obligatory stroke so their foreskin pulls back and reveals the shiny, juicy head that makes you drool.

Elliott and you stare shamelessly, watching as their eyes come up and Bloodhound’s cheeks warm to a rosy red. “Elliott-” Their voice warns, and he whines faintly but goes back to paying you attention instead. You only smile cheekily at Bloodhound until they threaten you with a lick over their sharp teeth and a quirked brow until you relent and spread your legs eagerly for them.

You all settle carefully into place, with you eagerly urging Elliott to straddle your face. One strong thigh on either side of your head and his hands flat against the headboard to grip it, peering down at you as you settle your arms over his thighs. You guide him to let you take more of his weight on, nosing at his large clit so you can lick at his drooling hole to tease him.

You’re quickly taken from your small power trip when you feel rough hands sliding over your thighs to draw them over Bloodhound’s waist. Your breath hitches, quickening as you pant softly over Elliott’s sex. He seems into it at least, petting your hair and cooing softly for you to take your time. But you interrupt with a soft squeak of, “Bloodhound-” As a warning, feeling the head of their cock slide from your clit down to your hole and back.

“Elliott-” They reply back in a soft tone, and you can already feel the face they’re making at the back of his head. Watching Elliott’s eyes focus back into reality as he makes an ‘oh’ with his mouth as if remembering.

“Hey, shh, okay look at me. You’ve taken them plenty of times, it’s not like they’ve grown an inch in the past...week? Week and a half?” Elliott reassures, stroking your hair back as you turn your head to kiss at his thigh. Your body is tensed, but slowly begins to relax the more Bloodhound strokes over you. Collecting more lubrication despite how strained their breath sounds. “Houndie, be slow.” He reminds.

“I always am.” They reassure in reply, soft as they pinch your thigh and make you jump briefly with a huff and a look only Elliott can see. They wait, patient as ever until you whine out ‘green’ with desperation. That’s when you feel their thickness pressing into you, ever so gentle and slow as they stroke over your hips and thighs. Strength held back as they grab onto you softly to work into you, one hand cupping your mound to thumb over your clit and making you squirm.

It’s not that they’re long, it’s just that they’re so fucking thick. Bloodhound’s dick was the fattest one you’d ever seen in your life, always a tight fit even with stretching. Your mouth busies itself, guided back to Elliott’s cunt with a help from his hand and a soft coo from him to get to work. Your mouth goes to his clit this time, suckling and licking over the thick flesh as your nose buries against his mound.

When Bloodhound is fully sheathed inside of you, you can hardly hear the way they growl over Elliott’s thighs acting as terrific ear warmers. That, and the fact Elliott can’t stop talking. Little encouragements spilling from his lips; “Yeah, like the way I taste, baby?” “Fuck you’re so pretty down there.” “Come on, make some noise.” He’s always been the more talkative partner. Unless Bloodhound was in the mood for control.

Your thighs are gripped hard as Bloodhound gently begins to thrust. You can feel the wetness slicking down your ass at this point, your own nails digging into Elliott’s thighs as you whine against him with pleasure. Licking feverishly at his heat as if he was the only thing keeping you sane right now. You’re more eager to give head, unlike Bloodhound who liked to tease. You work him up, peeking your eyes open half way to peer through your lashes just to watch his pretty face contort in pleasure. He bites his bottom lip, head throwing back when you suck particularly hard on his clit just as Bloodhound begins to pick up the pace.

Your thighs flex with pleasure, your noises muffled but still enjoyed next to Elliott. Though, you really make a noise when you feel their hips sharply thrust against you, slamming into your g-spot. Their thumb pressing to your clit and rubbing at it in time with their newly picked up pace, matching their soft snarls and huffing.

You hold desperate to Elliott’s thighs, lips parting and tongue lolling out as he takes your hair tight and begins to hump his hips desperately against your face. He fucks himself onto your tongue, using you like a toy as you’re fucked harder. You can only whine and huff your pleasures, not willing to close your mouth, not when Elliott’s eyebrows are knitted and he’s murmuring such pretty things.

Elliott cums first with a sob and his body locking up. One of your hands finally reaches up when he does cum, cupping his pec and thumbing over his perked nipple just to feel his clit jerk against your mouth as you suck hard on it. He locks up, squirting on your chin before you’re able to part your lips back open and lick eagerly at his hole to swallow whatever he gives you.

He has to move off you when you begin to go a bit cross eyed from holding his weight. Flopping next to you and curling against your side to nuzzle at your neck briefly. Murmuring about a shower that you acknowledge with a hum of agreement. There’s a mild pause of Bloodhound’s hips, just a beat when Elliott rolls out of bed and heads for the bathroom.

“My love-” Bloodhound’s voice is a low growl and your attention is immediately on them instead of Elliott’s fantastic ass. You quickly reach out for them, letting their weight cover you as they lean down, wrapping their arms around you to hold you close. You follow suit, legs wrapping around their waist, just tight enough to be comfortable but loose enough to let them move.

“Close,” You murmur back in a desperate tone near their ear. Nuzzling just underneath it as you flex your inner walls around them just to hear them snarl. They’re losing control, nails sinking into you as they get closer. Their hips begin to move again, humping into you like an animal trying to breed. “Cum inside of me, ba- ah- baby, please-” You whine out for them. Perhaps a low move, considering you knew it was such a big kink for them.

Almost a competition to see who could cum first.

You prevail when they hump into you a few times, swearing under their breath as they cum inside of you. Cock pulsing and jerking inside of you as they slam their hips as close to yours as they can. Only allowing small thrusts, more like grinding their pelvis to yours. You clutch at them, one hand on the back of their neck and clutching at their hair, the other around their back as you hold on.

You cum seconds after, body shaking and eyes shutting. Your breath is shuddery, exhausted.

There’s a quiet after that. Bloodhound waits inside of you for only a moment longer before slowly pulling out, spreading open your lower lips to selfishly watch their cum drip from you.

When they lower back onto their tummy and nose back between your legs, you’re pretty sure you’re in for a long night.

You deserve it.

[pcprminibigbang]

PCPR Mini Big Bang Fic Claiming Time!

Today’s the daaaaay!

Under the cut, you will find the summaries of the fanfics our Writers have been working on. They have been posted anonymously, labeled only by number.

Artists, go through the summaries carefully and figure out which ones you’d like to work on the most! Please pick three choices and then hop on over to your email to send your fic claiming email to pcprminibigbang@gmail.com! If you are confused as to how this process goes, please check your email inbox for emails Mod has sent concerning the full details on how to claim a fic.

For those not participating in this event, please feel free to read through the summaries as well to get a sneak peek of what our Writers have been working on!

Okay, that’s enough talking from Mod. Here are this event’s fics!!!

FIC #1 : CLAIMED!!!

He shuffles to the door, reaching for his gun just in case before he pulls it open, startling the short man who was waiting on the other side.

"Goddammit, Burger!" Vang0 hisses, leaning a little closer, eyes darting to the sides. "Can I come in?" He asks bluntly, as if they had been talking just a couple minutes ago and this wasn't their first chat in about a week. We're not that codependent.

"Wh- why are you out this late? And with a bag?" He frowns when he sees the uncharacteristic plain green duffle bag hanging from Vang0's shoulder, completely contrasting with the man's clothes, even if this time he went for more subdued colors.

"Let me in and I'll tell you," the blonde retorts as he puts a foot in the corner, ready to push himself inside as soon as Burger gives him room for it.

And Burger can't say no, has never been able to say no to Vang0, so he just rolls to the side and lets Vang0 in before slamming the door closed again.

"Why are you here? Not that I don't appreciate ya visiting, just... it's late and yer carrying a bag," he points out, tilting his head a little. "Y’know you can talk to me, Vang0, right?"

"Y-yeah, that's why I'm here, I-" he pauses, taking a deep breath "I got in trouble, I hacked into something I shouldn't have and I need to lay low for a while"

-

Vang0 Bang0 messed up, big time, he needs help to get off the radar for a while, and of course that his best friend Burger Chainz would help him, and a road trip seems to be the best way to make him drop from the face of earth until things have quieted down. But the empty roads bring nostalgia and an unearths feelings both of them thought deeply buried. They say that road trips change you, why should that be different in the cyberpunk future?

-

Vang0 Bang0/Burger Chainz, getting together fic, Teen rating, no ao3 warnings needed, maybe some minor canon violence. It's a slightly introspective fic, more focused on how Burger realizes some stuff and how he deals with it.

CLAIMING RESTRICTIONS: None

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FIC #2 : CLAIMED!!!

Turtleneck Heathen Today at 8:15 PM …… did u just ping me to ask if i wore heals

Badass Business Bitch Today at 8:16 PM *heels yes i did and do you?

Turtleneck Heathen Today at 8:17 PM not usually?? ill wear em if its like a big thing or w e i guess (Edited) i mean i havnet really had the oprotuntiy to wear em

Badass Business Bitch Today at 8:19 PM are you intentionally misspelling words to make yourself seem cooler to me?? Vang0 I watched you lick a stranger’s nose

-

Vang0 doesn't remember his birthday. Or his age. Or his interests, his likes, his dislikes, the password to his CollegeBoard account.

(Well, one of those is less important than the others.)

That being said, Burger wants to throw him a birthday party. Dasha is interested, despite herself. A series of assumptions are made, some feelings are hurt, and some lessons are learned.

-

Ships: Vang0/Dasha/Burger if you squint but pretty much a gen fic

Rating: Probably G, bordering maybe on T for swearing

Sensitive content: Canon-typical amnesia, a little bit of angst, some oblique canon-typical gun mentions, maybe a panic attack later in the fic- I haven't quite decided if that's gonna happen or not yet?

Other info: It's a pretty lighthearted fic focusing on the relationship between the three of them! No AU, pretty much just comedy and fun all the way through. I haven't ironed out all the details of what's going to happen yet, but that's gonna stay pretty consistent- there'll be some angstier/less funny bits here and there, of course, though.

CLAIMING RESTRICTIONS: None

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FIC #3 : CLAIMED!!!

Vang0 chewed his lip, feeling uneasy.

“What’s up, friend? You’ve got a big ol’ frown on your face.”

Vang0 blushed. “I’m not- I’m just- thinking. I mean, Joltik usually travel with their mother Galvantula, and it’s unusual for them to be seen without one, so these ones might have been separated from their mother.”

Burger frowned. “Well, that ain’t good.”

Vang0 nodded. “And Galvantula can get very angry when separated from their young.”

Burger opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by someone yelling loudly.

“BURGER! Burger, where the fuck are you!?”

Vang0 watched as Burger spun around and started towards the basement door.

“Burger!? Are you down here? There’s a huge fucking-”

“No, don’t come down-”

Burger was cut off as the door flew open, and someone catapulted into the basement.

Vang0 stared, eyes wide.

“Burger,” he said, “why the hell is Dapper Dasha in your house?”

-

Seven months ago, Vang0 woke up in a half-destroyed laboratory with no memories of his life before that. He's made something of a life for himself fixing people's technology, because he somehow knows how to do that really well.

And Burger Chainz is just another one of his clients. That is, until it turns out Burger's hiding ex-Pokemon Contest star Dapper Dasha in his house - who hasn't been seen in two years and just so happens to be Vang0's role model.

Vang0 definitely isn't freaking the fuck out. And he definitely isn't falling in love with Burger, either.

-

Vang0 Bang0/Burger Chainz. A Pokémon AU where Burger owns a farm, Dasha is an ex-contest star in hiding, and Vang0 has no clue what's going on. Rating: Teen. Warnings: mentions of blood and violence, nothing explicit

CLAIMING RESTRICTIONS: None

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FIC #4 : CLAIMED!!!

clink!

clink!

clink!

Vang0 Bang0 jumped in his seat as the van hit a bump in the road, speeding upon the old, graying highway. The trinkets they had collected over their various traveled crashed and banged, one almost hitting the window. The loud trinkets and music blaring from the car stereo didn’t phase Vang0. They weren’t sure where he was going, but it sure wasn’t home.

Vang0 wasn’t focused on the road, he was focused on something...else. It wasn’t the other cars; there weren’t any. Most people stayed in Night City, so the roads weren’t full a lot, he knew that. But this road doesn't have anything, anything that would ever prove that anyone had ever existed near here. Not even a bottle.

-    

After an eventful drive, Vang0 Bang0 finds themself on a beach with no discernable exits. No stairs, no ladders, not even a boat. Confused, Vang0 comes to terms with what he’s found in Night City, and what they’ve lost along the way. (Also they/he pronoun Vang0 rights)

-

There are no ships in this fic. I am likely to rate it Teen and Up audiences, since while there is no explicit or intentionally upsetting content, it might get a little sad at times. I’m not 100% sure about the exact direction my fic is going to go, there might be a car crash (not to graphically described, Vang0 is not hurt very badly, since this is [spoilers] a dream or metaphor about Vang0 coming to terms with memory loss). And since it is a dream sequence with no clear exit, this may be an unreality situation.

CLAIMING RESTRICTIONS: Only minor Artists can claim this fic.

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FIC # 5 : CLAIMED!!!

Upon Burger barging into Dasha’s bedroom and announcing that he got tick- stop screaming Vang0, it’s just me, got tickets to a film festival tonight, are you guys in, Vang0 informed him that they had “a job tonight, Burger, did you even check the zoogle calendar, we’ll go tomorrow or something,” and no, of course Burger hadn’t checked the calendar, that’s Dasha’s job, and sure we can get tickets for tomorrow too but the Winston Rider film is only showing tonight and I thought you guys might be interested -- “Winst- do you mean Winona Ryder?” -- and after about five minutes of schedule comparisons Dasha simply shoved Vang0 out of the bed and declared that she was going to the movie with Burger, Vang0 was finishing their job, and Burger was going to make her some coffee because “it’s too fucking early for this” even though personally, Burger thought 11:00am was a perfectly reasonable time to be awake -- he was probably missing something, or maybe Dasha had just been up late, Vang0 was definitely a blanket hog and Burger knew from experience that sharing a bed with them would be more likely to result in a semi-conscious tug of war than a decent night’s sleep -- so Vang0 got up to do their job and Burger went and made some coffee and Dasha relocated to the couch, where she downed the coffee and some eggs and promptly fell back asleep for another three hours.

-

Burger loved Dasha, of course he did, he loved spending time with her and he thought she was beautiful and the idea that they might be dating -- might have been dating for a while -- sat warm and comfortable in his chest, but, except, it just was that, he hadn’t realized that how they interacted might be how two people that were dating behaved, he was just hanging out with his friend, he did stuff like this with Vang0 all the ti- -- now wait, wait a second, now hang on just a second --

a.k.a. 5 times Burger missed the point +1 time he caught a clue

-

Dapper Dasha/Vang0 Bang0/Burger Chainz, Rating: Teen, content warnings for implied violence, drinking, implied sexual content

CLAIMING RESTRICTIONS: Only adult Artists can claim this fic.

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FIC # 6 : CLAIMED!!!

“What is this? What’s going on? Why am I dressed like I’m straight?” Vang0 hisses, gesturing to everything around him and the wrongness of it all.

“Seriously?” Candella rolls her eyes, unimpressed. “You couldn’t have scheduled your existential work breakdown until after our shift? You don’t see my lesbian ass complaining while I’m on the clock, do you?”

“I—What? Am I speaking another fucking language? You answered none of my questions!”

“Yeah because it’s 9am and the morning rush just ended so I do not have enough energy to indulge just,” Candella gestures at all of Vang0. “whatever is going on with you right now.”

“What’s going on with me right now is that I’ve found myself in a bougie caffeine establishment fever dream that just so happens to have the shittiest store playlist in the history of ever.” Vang0 says, bordering on manic as he looks up at the ancient speaker up in the corner of the shop. “Seriously, what is this terrible song?”

“Hey, Soul Sister by Train.” Candella still, amazingly, does not look alarmed or worried.

-

Or the one where Vang0 is a barista at Zero and One’s Cafe...except he’s not.

This isn’t his fucking job, this isn’t his fucking life, and it takes a quick look around the horrifyingly low tech coffee shop he’s in and the fact that he’s missing a USB port on his neck to be painfully aware that this isn’t his fucking universe. This is a 2010s over idealistic portrayal of adult mundanity that he and his friends are stuck in and Vang0 has to get them all out of this nightmare before he commits customer service acts of violence.

Bring it on, Coffee Shop AU. Bring. It. On

-

Dapper Dasha/Vang0 Bang0/Burger Chainz. An absurd existential romantic comedy where the trio somehow get transported into a Coffee Shop AU against their wills. Rating: Teen. Content warnings for slight absurd horror and canon typical violence.

CLAIMING RESTRICTIONS: None

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FIC # 7 : CLAIMED!!!

“That guy in my english class,” Dasha could hear through the speakers the distinct sound of combat boots stepping on cement. What was Vang0 doing outside at this time, alone? “The one I told you about! Burger-” “The one you’ve been crushing on for months and you’re too much of a coward to ask out?” Dasha already knew everything about this guy, Vang0 saw him on the first day of senior year in his english class and he hadn’t shut up about him ever since. 5’10, large and muscular shoulders, nice to everyone and just dense enough that everytime he said something you would automatically think “wow… thank fuck you’re attractive,” but not in an irritating way, you know? Vang0 exhaled, which Dasha interpreted as a yes. “Well I couldn’t ask him out even if i wanted to,” “Huh?” Dasha could hear the cogs in her own brain turning, trying to process what was being said to her. “Because he’s dating a blonde g-” she heard Vang0 stop on his steps and his tone becoming more dry, “are you even listening to what I’m saying?” Dasha yawned audibly and tried sitting up again. This time she succeeded, “yeah, yeah, I’m listenin’. How did you find out about this and why did you decide to call me at nearly 2 am instead of just waiting until tomorrow?” “I followed them and I saw them talking.” “You’ve lost it.” - Dasha received a call from Vang0 at 1:47 am one saturday night, and everything went downhill from there. They were not friends, she couldn’t understand why Vang0 acted like they were, but they weren’t, because Dasha didn’t have any friends. Except that, when she sees Vang0 struggling, for the first time in 18 years of life she decides that maybe this one idiot is worth getting soft over. And so she helps him bleach his hair over a cup of coffee and a can of Spunky Monkey. Because why the fuck not. - Main pairing is platonic Vang0/Dasha, background ship is Vang0/Burger. The whole story is from Dasha’s POV. Genre is just a very typical teen romance story except that it’s focused more on platonic bonding rather than the actual romance. Vang0 calls Dasha late at night, tells her he wants to bleach his long dark curly hair and cut his bangs after seeing Burger with a blonde girl, and he goes to her place. She helps him do the deed in her bathroom (she’s still elite) as they realize how much they care about each other. Initially inspired by that one scene in Scott Pilgrim where Knives Chau dyes her hair. Rating: general audiences, content warnings: lots of swearing, implied addiction/addiction enabling, shoplifting mention. CLAIMING RESTRICTIONS: None

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FIC # 8 : CLAIMED!!!

vang0 officially disappears on march 23rd, 2040. exact time unknown, but whatever conspires that morning takes place before burger wakes up.

if he’s being honest with himself; he’s seen it coming for a little while now. vang0 isn’t the routine type, he’s young and whip smart and drinks so much redbull that the stuff must pump through his veins.

burger’s an old dog. older than vang0 by at least 2 years, he’s sure. he doesn’t have much, and god doesn’t that sound cliche, but he’s stupid and optimistic- and really. he must’ve known somewhere that the kid wouldn’t stay. he’s got a nasty drug habit that burger cant support and a look in his eyes like he wants the world- burger cant even buy him a fake ID.

this happens sometimes, the coming and going. vang0’ll disappear for a week if he’s lucky, a month if he’s not, but never longer than that.

no use crying over spilled milk.

-

vang0 goes missing, burger velmently pretends nothing is wrong until he doesnt, and dasha has to pick up the pieces.

-

missing person fic, burger/dasha/vang0 implied, but nothing explicitly mentioned or talked about, drug use mentioned, mature, canon typical violence, kidnapping, and other canon typical shit- it is night city after all lmao, kind of introspective, alot of burger just thinking back on his relationship w vang0 and shit, but there is some plot as well ig

CLAIMING RESTRICTIONS: None

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FIC # 9: CLAIMED!!!

“Anyway, dude, what’s up? Or did you just come over for a cola because you ran out of your own?”

“Oh, right,” Vang0 says. He is still thinking about the man, and Dasha, and Dasha and that man, and Dasha’s long fingers and Dasha’s hair falling over her face as she purses her lips and blows upwards, her breath scattering strands of brown hair around her sharp cheekbones. “Um, there was something on the forum, I think - I think there’s a thing. For us. Should we call Burger?”

“Oh, Burger’s here,” Dasha says. “Somewhere. Burger!” she yells.

“Burger - but he spent the night?” Vang0 says, brain processing too slow somehow.

Dasha doesn’t respond.

“Did you -”

“Have a threesome?” Dasha asks, in her usual blunt way. Her face is pretty expressionless, eyes severe under the liner and blinking less than a person should, but Vang0 knows her pretty well, he can see the corners of her mouth turning up. That means she thinks something is funny. “I don’t think so. Burg!” she calls over her shoulder. “Did we?”

-

When Vang0 sees a JumpTrash post about vandalism at a club down town, he figures it will be an easy job for the trio - find out who did it, have Burger intimidate them, done. But things are more complicated than they seem, and the gang ends up drawn into a complex scheme involving the Brotherhood of the Screaming Abyss, conspiracies and hit men, and people from their past they thought were long gone. Along the way, they'll have to decide what they want out of this job - and what they want from each other....

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This is basically an elaborate CAPER, with a bunch of feelings and shit thrown in. It's a job and then it's a crime story! Its kind of a noir? Can I write a noir? WE"LL FIND OUT. It's gonna be fairly long assuming I can get my act together and put in all i want to put in. Like every good story, it's got plot and whatnot but the plot is just a fulcrum around which to wrap some found family polyamory shit, baby. It's Vang0/Dasha/Burger, duh and it takes them a minute to get there but they'll get there! Its gonna have canon-typical violence, basically - none of the trio die or anything, but other people do, and there's blood. There's gonna be a sex scene because I'm not an AMATEUR. Drug use, too, but mostly in happy fun ways. I haven't fully sussed out some of the flashbacks, but probably some oblique references to past traumas, probably Vang0. Nothing explicit, no reliving events or anything. Also i'm 1000 years old, be warned!

CLAIMING RESTRICTIONS: Only adult Artists can claim this fic.

[yourdeepestfathoms]

turn this boat around (we’re going down)

(Read Anne as Courtney!Anne)

who would win: a normal river or one soggy girl

Word count: 5764

Prompt: “You’re not hurting me, you’re not heavy. I’ve got you, love.”

———————

“Don’t forget to put on—”

But it was too late. Kitty and Cleves were already sprinting into the river and collapsing into the water. Jane’s arm fell limp to her side and she narrowed her eyes at the pair.

“Fine. I hope you both fry.” She hissed before turning to help someone else- someone less stupid and more obedient- with putting on sunscreen.

It had been Kitty and Maggie’s idea to go out for a swim, which was why the ten Tudor reincarnated ladies were out by a secluded riverside in the first place. It was quite warm that day, anyway, so they gave in to the idea and packed up two cars and drove out to the serene little spot for a nice day on the water. However, not everyone was as thrilled to be there as Kitty and her impractical soulmate were.

Joan’s nose curled as water lapped hungrily at her toes. She stepped out of the shallows and back onto the sandstone shoreline. It was too cold in her opinion- she didn’t know how Kitty and Cleves weren’t bothered by it.

Not to be a buzzkill, but she really didn’t want to be there. She hated the water, although she didn’t quite know why, as she didn’t think she had any trauma attached to it. She just didn’t enjoy getting all soggy and cold. Nor did she know how to swim, so just added bonus points to why she didn’t enjoy water. However, everyone else was onboard with the idea without even hearing her opinion, so she got dragged out with them whether she liked it or not.

Although, she had to admit the place they were hunkered down at was quite beautiful. Down a dirt path and through a thicket of foliage, the trees opened up to border the riverside. It was shaded by the overhead shrubbery, shielding them from the sun, and had several rock formations sticking out in the deeper end, perfect spots for jumping off and diving, as Kitty has already discovered, since she was already clambering up the side of one crag. Dense brambles locked around the other side, which has a bay like a gravelly beach. Joan was standing in front of the shallows, where sparkling rivulets of water rushed through the weathered limestone riverbed. She winces when she steps on a pebble. She knew she should have brought some kind of river shoes.

At the main site, Maggie had just jumped in and was now chanting for Maria to get in, who was slowly lowering herself into the water and squealing about how cold it was. A purple, black, and indigo blur then suddenly passes them in a flash; Bessie pops up from the surface a moment later, blinks at them through violet goggles, then disappears once again without a word.

“She is in heaven,” Aragon commented with a chuckle. She was seated beside Jane in a beach chair on a flat ledge just in front of the water. They were both basically taking up the roles of lifeguards for the expedition.

“Definitely.” Jane agreed with a light laugh of her own, but that light laugh quickly turned into an uproar of laughter that nearly made her fall out of her chair when Bessie unexpectedly resurfaced holding a catfish by the tail. “HOW DID YOU—?!”

“ELIZABETH!!” Aragon barked, laughing as hard as everyone else. Joan even thinks there’s tears streaming out of her eyes at the sight. “PUT IT BACK!!”

Bessie stared at her, then at the fish, and then placed it back in the water. It fearfully shoots away from her as fast as possible, probably having a fishy panic attack. She blinked, flashed a quick peace sign, and then dived again.

Joan watched Aragon and Jane for a moment as they settled, half transfixed on how pretty they looked in their bathing suits and hating herself for it, before a flash of green caught her eye. She turned to see Anne standing there and tipping the can of sunscreen at her.

“Have you put some on yet?” The queen asked.

“Not yet,” Joan replied.

“Need help?”

Joan’s ears were suddenly on fire, much to her dismay.

“N-no, I got it.” Joan stammered.

“Alright,” Anne shrugged. She handed Joan the can and then went to get in, pushing in Cathy, who was trying to hype herself up to jump in, as she did so.

After very poorly putting on a coating of sunscreen, Joan just awkwardly stands by the bags for a moment. She watches everyone else splash around happily, then walks past Jane and Aragon, and to a swampy area of the bay. It was overgrown with cattails and reeds, and the surface of the water was covered in a layer of mushy green algae. Joan wrinkled her nose, not even wanting to know how that would feel between her toes, and stepped across the goop to a rock sitting between a circle of tall grass growing out from the water, then to another, and another, and another, until she situated herself on a flat, fairly large stone that would make for a good watch point.

And watch she did, since she didn’t have anything better to do.

On the tallest rock formation, probably around twelve feet in height, Kitty was standing on the edge babbling about being the true queen of the castle or something. Maggie walked up to her, looked at her wordlessly, then shoved her off. Kitty’s alarmed squeal was quickly overcome by the splash of her body slapping against the river’s surface. Jane was barely able to fight back a flinch when she saw this, but was able to settle herself from where she sat.

At another part of the river, a slightly shallower area where you could stand up and only be submerged around the waist or stomach, Cleves and Maria were playing with a volleyball that had been brought along. Cleves was playfully barking at Maria to not tuck her thumbs in or else she would end up breaking them, which “would not make playing the drums very easy.”

And then, in front of Jane and Aragon’s ledge, a flurry of bubbles explode against the rippling surface. A moment later, Bessie pops up like a two thousand year old river monster that has just awoken from its slumber. Thick, long tendrils of black hair draped over her face like wet snakes, but she’s able to navigate her way over to the shore with ease. When she gets to a ledge, she hops up, grappling her arms in the rock for a grip while her feet scrabble against the stone before finding a hold and pushing the rest of her body up. Once she stands, she pauses for a moment, then shakes her head wildly to dry her hair, quickly replacing the image of “river monster” with “soggy black bear.”

“Was that really necessary, Elizabeth?” Aragon said with distaste, as she got caught in the crossfire of the splattering hair water. But even from a distance, Joan could tell Aragon was just messing around, and was quite endeared by how at ease and happy her daughter figure was.

“Yes.” Bessie said with a blank face. She padded over to the cooler and took out a water bottle. She took a few sips, then set it down, along with her goggles. “I don’t need these.”

“Elizabeth, don’t open your eyes under-”

But Bessie had already returned to the river, which she’s practically claimed as her aquatic kingdom. Aragon shook her head with a loving chuckle.

Just then, Joan felt a flash of embarrassment. Bessie was so calm and relaxed, despite being in a bathing suit. Everyone knew she had issues with her body, but she looked so peaceful. Sure, it was a one piece swimsuit (dark purple with black stripes) and she also had shorts on, but still! Even Kitty was in a tankini! And Cleves, who was the proclaimed “ugly one” by history, was proudly flaunting a ruby red bikini!

Joan shyly looked down at herself, at the light blue rash guard and darker blue waterproof shorts covering her floral bathing suit underneath; and felt a blush rise to her cheeks. She felt kinda pathetic- what gave her the right to be so ashamed of her body? She wasn’t touched in the way Kitty and Bessie were. She shouldn’t be so nervous of skin being shown.

She sighed and plucked up a pebble sitting on her slab, throwing it fiercely as far as she could. The resounding splash seemed to alert a few of the girls on the largest rock, who just now noticed that she was sitting there.

“Joan!” Maggie called. “Come on! Come up with us!”

Joan scanned the water, but found no possible way to get to the rock without getting in, and it was very deep in that area. Besides, even if there was a way, she knew she would probably be pushed off if she dared to venture up there, and she didn’t know what she would do if that would happen. Everyone would figure out she couldn’t swim, she would probably have to be rescued, and she would never be able to live that down. She huddled further into the center of the stone she’s on.

“I’m good!” She called back.

Maggie exchanged looks with Cathy and Kitty, who were up there with her. Anne was standing on the top, too, but she just tilted her head at Joan in a curious, but slightly worried way.

“Why not?” Kitty yelled this time.

“It’s too cold!”

“Uhh.” Kitty blinked. “Okay.”

Joan bit her lip, already knowing she was being judged. They definitely saw through her answer and were thinking about how stupid and scared she was. She wished she could be like the protagonist in a movie that would suddenly get a burst of confidence which would send her proudly leaping into the water and being perfectly fine, but she just couldn’t. She didn’t want to get in. And she didn’t want to sit there looking like a fool anymore, so she stood up and hopped back onto the bay.

Joan walks over to the bags, noticing random trinkets- necklaces, rings, hats, even a damp, clumped up shirt- piled neatly on the ledge Aragon and Jane were sitting at. She looked at it curiously, then yelped as a crushed beer can was suddenly hurled out from the water. Aragon and Jane look at her in amusement.

“Watch out,” Aragon warned her a little too late. “Elizabeth is cleaning out the river.”

“And also creating a hoard.” Jane nodded at the pile.

Speaking of the devil, Bessie’s top half emerges from the water and clings to the edge of the ledge so she can place a scuffed green beaded necklace with her pile.

“Think you can find me some sunglasses?” Aragon asked.

Bessie grinned up at her and then disappeared in the water again. Joan momentarily saw her figure ripple near the riverbed before sliding out of view into the deep end.

“She has a tendency to go nonverbal when she’s in her zone or concentrated.” Aragon informed Joan with a chuckle. “It’s adorable.”

Joan smiled slightly, then moved to sift through one of the bags. She pulled out two pencils and her small sketchbook. Seeing as she had nothing else to do, she thought she could get away with drawing. Not like anyone would do anything to stop her.

She looked around for a good place to sit, then noticed a path winding through the trees to her far left. She blinked at it, glanced at the others not paying any attention to her, then walked into the riverside jungle.

The tangled trees seemed to be reaching for her with long trailing roots, and branches like skeletal fingers snarled together overhead to create a canopy of sorts. Sunlight filtered in from above, casting pale yellow spots across the large boulders dotting the foliage. They were all huge and just lied around like the remnants of an ancient landslide. A few packed together tightly against a tall fjord of earth, creating a rocky corridor of sorts. There was another path to get to the other side, beneath a log suspended in the air by two crags and through some weeds, but Joan decided to venture into the crevice.

Walking through the passageway felt like she was getting a hug from the earth. It was a slight squeeze to go through, she had to hunch her shoulders in to keep them from scraping against the walls, but it felt worth it for the sights.

Flowers were blooming from vines etched in the moss-matted bedrock on either side of her. Orange and green and amber were streaked through the rock walls, glowing beneath streams of water that glittered like melted diamonds from a spring somewhere up above. Specks of sunlight bleeding in through the canopy above would hit the stone’s tears in just the right way to set them off in radians of iridescent and silver. The deep emerald moss was fluffy beneath Joan’s fingers when she tentatively touched the patches. Ahead, she then sees braids of willow dangling down from a long, reaching branch that has itself draped over one of the boulders. When she pushes through the curtain, she’s met with scattered trees that break down and fold into a field of rock crags that border the glistening river.

Joan walks through the grass and down onto the shoreline. Most of the bay there were shallows that have leaked into the openings between stony ridges risen from the ground. She shivers as she wades through the ankle-deep water, feeling the cold jolt through her muscles. She clambered up the first rock she could reach as fast as she could.

She took a moment to scan around her, then glanced over her shoulder. Parts of her were hoping to see the others calling her name, breaking through the foliage and running to her in relief for wandering off, but she knew that would never happen. She bet they would end up leaving her there entirely if she stayed out too long.

Shaking her head to rid herself of that though, Joan began to traverse the rock formations carefully. She leapt from one shelf to another, feeling like a graceful bighorn sheep climbing a mountainside or a dragon mapping out its new territory. Jumping and moving like that made her feel so free and uncaring- perhaps this is what Bessie felt when she was in the water?

Joan paused for a moment to catch her breath. She looked to the side and saw a large pool of stagnant brownish water sitting in between some ledges nearby. A dark green, blobby frog croaked from in the warm, bubbling mud, then bobbled at her with its big yellow eyes. Joan giggled softly, then moved on.

Hopping across rocks, tight walking over fallen logs, occasionally stepping through the water below when gaps were too big to jump, Joan made her way across the stone shoreline. Then, the ground flattened out and the bay became one of smooth stone that she could easily walk across, only occasionally going around the reaching shelves of earth that stretched out from the cliff face bordering that side of the river.

Finally, her trek and hard work paid off when she spotted a nice rock formation reaching over the water. It was high up, safe from any splashing from the rapids below, with a sheer edge and an inclined side that Joan was able to climb up with little difficulty when she held her pencils and sketchbook in her mouth. There, she settled herself and began to draw.

Around thirty minutes into finishing up a drawing of Killer Frost brawling with a menacing polar bear (what? she had an active imagination!) she looked up and stared with wide eyes at the hawk perched only a few meters away.

It’s not that she’s never seen a hawk before, she has, but she’s never been this close to one. And it’s not like they were common in a big city like London.

This one was pretty big. It had its streaked, slate grey chest puffed out as it scanned the water with orange-red eyes from the tree branch it was regally perched on. The thick, bristled tail was still banded, though the marks were fading, meaning this was an adolescent. And the wide, white stripe over the eyes told Joan that it was a goshawk.

The bird flexed its razor sharp, obsidian black talons around the branch, and Joan watched it do this simple action in awe. She flips to a clean page and begins to sketch out the beautiful creature, looking up every few strokes to check the details and diameters.

On her fifth glance, the hawk suddenly billowed its huge wings and leapt off of the branch. It dove straight down into the water, submerging itself for a moment before soaring back out in a blur of brown and grey. A long, blue-grey fish was now wriggling desperately in its hooked beak. It clamped down harder to keep its meal from falling out, then glanced at Joan. Its fire-colored eyes narrowed at her, talons twitching subtly beneath it as it hovered in the air. Then, it cocks its head back, as if to say, “Try to top that, wingless bird,” and flies off into the trees on the other side of the river.

Joan watched it go with an amazed look. She smiled and went back to her sketch. She finishes it relatively quickly and goes to the next blank page. As she’s doing so, she slowly starts to pick up on how active the floral and fauna around her was.

Tangles of thorns and thickets of huge ferns grew along the shoreline on the other side, which was coated with smashed up gravel and fragments of river shells and pieces of smooth black flint. Sharp, hollow reeds poked out of the edges of the water like pale green and light brown needles, just waiting for some poor sole to step on them and be lanced by their spear-like points. Tadpoles and minnows were weaving between the bases, their delicate bodies barely even stirring up a fleck of mud as they swam.

In the deeper water, the shimmering bodies of fish could be seen, although it was hard to tell what size or color they were because the rapids were rushing white streaks over the surface. However, she did notice a green-brown catfish swimming lazily from underneath her rock, whiskers billowing beside its face like little squirming snakes.

Out of the corner of her eye, Joan noticed a tawny, speckled gecko skitter up onto her ledge, then paused when it saw her. It looks her up and down with its big brown eyes, sizing her up, then turns away, deciding to find a different place to sunbathe. Joan giggled softly. She HAD to draw Killer Frost messing with a lizard, now. As she was reaching for one of her pencils, however, it slipped from her hand and began rolling to the edge. Joan lunged just a bit too far for it.

Joan couldn’t even think to try and catch herself as she tips over the edge and into the icy water below.

The first thing she realizes when she falls in is that the water was a lot shallower than she thought it was. Or maybe she fell with enough momentum to slam all the way to the bottom. She didn’t know, but she felt her back connect to the riverbed with so much force she thought her spine broke for a moment. But then her body began to writhe like a stabbed snake without her brain commanding it to do so. She just squirms and wiggles and flails, but she can’t get to the surface and the current seizes her in its glacial talons and drags her along with it. She can feel her back scrape and shred against the rock beneath her, even with the rash guard on.

The water stings every inch of her like dry ice until she can’t tell cold from hot any longer. She’s so in shock from falling in and then landing on her spinal cord that she forgets if she’s being boiled alive or being frozen solid.

Everything is dark, and the water presses down on her. Someone is coming to save her. Jane is coming to save her. She must be. Or someone must be— they won’t let her die!

This— this was why she’s scared of the water. Not because of a past trauma, but because of the knowledge of how powerful it is and the inherent fear that comes with that. The water is stronger than she’ll ever be and that makes her scared.

She can’t swim, she can’t breathe, she can’t escape. She’s going to die in this river, and shouldn’t it have edges. Shouldn’t there be a way out?

Joan suddenly bashed into a boulder sticking out of the river— there it was. Reeling with pain, awareness rushing back to her, Joan spun in the water, flailing for a hold on something.

She crashed into another rock, bounced off, and slammed into yet another. The river was going so fast now that she couldn’t stop herself. She was being dragged hungrily by the undertow at top speeds.

Joan manages to twist over so she wouldn’t be belly-up anymore like a fish waiting to die. She shoved her knees against the riverbed, feeling the stone slabs slice off an entire layer of skin like a hot knife, and breaches the surface. She gasps, sucked in as much air as she could in her panic, then tried to scream for help, but was cut off when her face smashed into solid rock.

Joan sees bright, colorful stars explode across her vision— or maybe they’re minnows, because she keels over and the undertow reclaims her into its depths. She’s back underwater, sinking into an alarmingly deep part of the river.

Mmmmm... The river seemed to rumble around her. So delicious... Mine. My prey.

Blood is swirling up from one of Joan’s nostrils. She doesn’t know how because that nostril already feels like it’s swollen shut. That side of her face is pulsing with pain; she can feel her heartbeat pounding away- is it getting weaker?

Her back touches the riverbed. Knobby protrusions and pebbles and shells scratch against her rash guard like desperate fingers. A few might have actually managed to cut through the fabric because she can feel the streaks of pain lancing across her spine worsening by the second. Her cuts being packed full of grit and gravel is so bad that she doesn’t even become aware of the burning in her lungs until just then.

Shhhhhh.... The water whispers when Joan’s whimper sends ripples through its body. Shhh... Rest. Mine. Hungry.

The burning turns into a full on incineration of her lungs. Suddenly, the water around her feels a lot less icy and a lot more like it was boiling around her. Her body felt so hot and heavy, her frigid and numb at the same time. This and the pain brought awareness back to her somewhat. She’s dizzy and can barely move, so it wouldn’t matter if she knew how to swim or not. Someone warm and wet is trickling from her nasal passage and down into her throat- blood.

Hungry. Hungry. Mine..... Cooed the water gleefully.

Stop, Joan thought desperately, as if she could speak the language of the undertow humming around her. Please stop.

Something is pressing down on her chest with talons of fire. Her throat is wrapped with burning hot razor wire. The surface just ten feet away from her face is starting to look a lot more black.

Want this. Want want want. Chanted the water. Sleep. Hungry hungry hungry.

Let me go. Joan mentally begged. She couldn’t believe she was using the last of her strength to try and telepathically speak to a fucking liquid. Please.

Can’t. The water replied, and now she knew for sure oxygen deprivation was making her delirious and think it was talking back to her. So hungry. Yum yum yum...

No. Human yuck. F-fish yum. Joan tried to persuade. Ripples swish around her like the aquatic shake of a head.

No. Need. You. Mine. So hungry. The water burbled. Shhhh....

No- Human yuck. Human yuck.

Joan couldn’t tell if she was crying, but the voice she was using to think with was cracking and trembling like she was.

Shhh....

Human yuck. Fish yum. Please don’t.

Shhhhh.......

No-

Shhhh.....

STOP! Joan roared. Her eyes shot open and, thick with gurgling blood, she screamed, “HELP!!” as loud as she could.

She may have been underwater, but surely someone had to hear her. She had to be close to the others by now.

How long has she been drowning without them knowing...?

“HELP! HELP!”

HUSH! Cried the water.

STOP!! Joan shrieked back.

Suddenly, something pierces the surface. Through the blackness hazing her vision Joan looks up and smiles weakly. She knew the others wouldn’t have left her to die. She knew they cared.

But it wasn’t them.

The fleeting blur of grey and brown zipped out of the water in an instant. The water is agitated, roiling and churning in rage. It seizes Joan by the throat and arms and legs and shakes her.

Then, she’s going up, up, up, dragged against a jagged, razor sharp slope of shell shards and flint daggers, and—

And she’s thrown over the surface.

Joan gasps loudly, reintroducing her lungs to oxygen—but they weren’t quite ready to quarrel with the element just yet. So, instead, she just made feeble, wheezing squeaky noises as fights to stay up above. Or, rather, the water fights to keep her up. She was just floundering around like an upside down drunk duck that never learned how to swim.

Crack went something in her chest as she wheels into a twisted rock formation and stab went another bolt of pain throughout her entire body.

Human yuck, Went the water as it shoved her waterlogged body into another protrusion. Human yuck.

Human yuck, Joan agreed dizzily as she extended her hands and grappled onto the next rock she was thrown against. She squeezed her eyes shut, hearing the tiny chick-chick-chick of the spiderwebs crawling through her rib cage when she stretched out her arms. Human yuck. She repeated tiredly.

Weakly, Joan crawled out of the water and flopped onto the top of the stone. At the sudden pressure on her stomach, water comes rushing out of her mouth and all she can really do is slack her jaw and let it all pour free from her innards. It was a terrible sensation, like water snakes were slithering out of her stomach and up her throat. It halted her breathing for several terrifying seconds, so she had no choice but to force up a cough to move the process along, but that cough turned into a gag and then a sob.

She has definitely been crying.

Joan wasn’t too sure how long she was sprawled out on that rock with tears streaming down her cheeks and water leaking from every orifice, but eventually looked up blearily. She had managed to float all the way down to the small forest with the rock passageway, but wasn’t at the other side yet. She also saw that tangles of water weeds and ropes of slimy algae were coiled around her limbs, like medals awarding her for not drowning. She didn’t have the strength to peel them off.

Everything hurt so badly. Her knees were skinned raw and filled with gravel, her back was so gashed she was sure her spine could be seen, her palms were on fire and one of her fingernails were missing, one half of her face was swollen and bruised, and something was very wrong with her ribs. She had no idea how she was going to get back to the others, and she was starting to fear they weren’t going to look for her at all. They were going to leave her.

More tears spilled free. She tried to call their names, but her voice came out as a strangled gurgle that the rapids shushed with their relentless churning. She stared fearfully at the rushing water around her and whimpered pathetically at what was to come.

After a few more minutes of laying still, Joan slowly slid off of the rock. The icy chill of the water sends the cuts scattered across her back alight with fresh pain and they sing with discomfort. She sings with them when she keens miserably.

Each step is agony. Her knees tremble under her weight and her ribs quiver in her chest in a terrible, unnatural way. The only reason she’s able to cross to the shore is because the water is only to her chest, but it’s still hard to wade through and bubbles around her, like it’s laughing at her efforts.

Joan stumbled to the bay along the side of the forest, which is situated on a ledge she wouldn’t be able to hoist herself up onto with her injuries. So she has to scale the side, walking through the deep, murky water until gravel turns to mud and her feet are sucked at hungrily. She can’t manage a yelp, so she just gurgled awkwardly and jerked back quickly, which makes her see stars. She clings tighter to the grass on the ledge and continues forward.

Finally, after twenty-five minutes of moving at a crawl, she reaches the end of the forest. The bank curves into a pool-like area, then continues to a straight line where the site was. Joan considered getting out and walking over there, but knew what would happen if she did- everyone would have to pick up and leave and they would all hate her for ruining it for them. As much as she really wanted to go home and soak in a hot bath that won’t try to drown her, she didn’t want everyone being annoyed with her, either.

So, instead, she dragged herself to the pool bay. Slimy black mud squelched beneath her toes and she nearly flattened a squishy-looking toad when her knees finally buckled and she collapsed. It hops out of the way with an alarmed croak, gawks at her black and blue and pale white form half sticking out of the water, then scoots away hastily.

There, Joan lays, moaning and crying miserably. She rationalizes that she’ll have more strength in just a moment if she just rests... Yes... She could feel the pain ebbing away already...

Sleep, sleep... Cooed the water as it licks her legs gently. Mine. So hungry... Human...yum.

———

“Can you get her up the hill?”

“Yes, Catherine, I’m not THAT weak. Besides, she’s really light...”

“I know, I’m not saying you’re weak, I just don’t want you to drop her.”

“I’m glad you have so much faith in me.”

“I never—”

“I had a baby, you know? I know how to carry a person. I was a mother.”

“Carrying a baby and carrying a teenager are two different actions.”

“I don’t know... Look at the way she’s snuggled up to me. Jealous?”

“No—”

Two voices bicker above her head. They’re both very warm and very soothing, but one is barbed with thorns and the other is coiled with jagged gemstone points. She’s too delirious to make them out fully, though, or ask them to be quiet, so she just moaned weakly. They don’t appear to hear her.

“Gentle, Anne!”

“I am being gentle!!”

A whimper worms free. This time, she’s heard because the voices shut up. When they eventually speak again, their tones are too hushed to hear properly.

“Mmmm...” Joan choked out. “I’m.....mmmm.......”

A finger brushes her cheek- the one that isn’t swollen and throbbing. She leans into it with another feeble whimper.

“We need to bring her to the hospital.”

“We need to bring her home.”

“Do you see the state she’s in? She needs a doctor!”

“Well, you can be the doctor. Doctor Catherine!”

“Do you not care about her? Because if not, give her to me.”

“Woah, hey- I’m holding her. Back off.”

“Then we take her to the-”

“Home.” Joan rasped. “Wanna...go home.”

She forces her eyes open and sees Anne and Aragon above her. They both look very worried as they stare down at her.

“Please...”

“You heard her,” Anne, the one carrying her, said. “Come on. Let’s hurry to the car.”

They continue walking to where the cars were parked. In that time, Joan becomes a little more aware of her surroundings. Instantly, guilt filtered through her. Everyone was probably having to leave because of her.

“I’m...I’m sorry...” She panted. Talking was so hard and it made her bruised face hurt tremendously. “I can...I can walk....mm too...heavy...”

“Shh, shh,” Anne hushed her, making slight rocking motions. “You’re not hurting me, you’re not heavy. I’ve got you, love.”

Joan tried to argue, but could only make a weak moan of pain. She hears the sound of a car door opening and then she’s being set inside with her head in someone’s lap- Aragon’s. Fingers began to gently thread through her wet, tangled hair.

“Why do I have to drive again?” Anne asked while sliding into the driver’s seat.

“Because you got to hold her.” Aragon said. “So I get to sit with her. It’s fair.” She looks down at Joan’s cloudy eyes. “Hey, baby girl. We’re gonna bring you home, alright? You’re gonna be just fine. We’ll take care of you.”

Joan really liked the sound of that.

She smiled dreamily in her daze and began to babble softly as she started to drift back off into unconsciousness. She can feel her cracked ribs aching, and she’s desperate to not feel again.

“Did she just say ‘human yuck?” Anne said from the front of the car. “Oh my god, that is too cute! Catherine, record that!”

“Eyes on the road, Anne!”

Soon, all Joan can feel is Aragon’s gentle hand stroking her hair. She knew she would be in an extreme amount of pain when she woke up again and may actually have to go to the hospital, but, right now, she just focused on the loving pets she was getting and the sound of the water’s lullaby still roaring in her ears.

One thing was for sure: she was never going to go swimming again.

[tanzanite-zircon]

Collabwithmyself Chronicles: Phoe-nix Chapter 2

                                         Chapter 2: Just an Average Day  

“Put on your Sunday clothes,

There's lots of world out there

Get out the brillantine and dime cigars

We're gonna find adventure in the evening air

Girls in white in a perfumed night

Where the lights are bright as the stars!

Put on your Sunday clothes, we're gonna ride through town

In one of those new horse-drawn open cars

We'll see the shows at Delmonico’s

And we'll close the town in a whirl

And we won't come until we've kissed a girl!”

The Hello Dolly show-tune definitely does not describe the current state of the Earth. The beautiful shades of blues, greens, browns, and whites of the entirety of Earth have been dulled to a murky brown. The atmosphere surrounding the planet is littered with satellites and other space debris. Once you actually penetrate the pea soup-like smog that drapes the landscape, you can make out the outlines of the beautiful mountains … of trash … if you squint. Buried under and surrounding these mountains are decommissioned wind turbines, nuclear power plants, factories, telephone and power lines, and long abandoned cities and buildings. A truly depressing and eerie sight to behold.

The bubbly show tune and the sound of wheels crunching paper, glass, metal, and plastic are the only sounds that can be heard within the sickening silence of the abandoned street as Phoenix skates his way through the pathways, carrying Trucy on his shoulders. Phoenix was wearing dirtied, light brownish-orange jumpsuit with grey sleeves and gloves, had black accents on his arms, and black boots. He also had a pair of goggles resting in front of his spiky black hair that aided him whenever a little, or big, dust storm ever picked up. Trucy had brown hair tied up into a side ponytail and was wearing a little black dress with gold buttons, white gloves and boots, a light blue cape, and a red ascot tied around her neck. Trucy looked like a magician, as she was programmed to know magic tricks in order to entertain children. Trucy had started to come with him to work after a few months of becoming a little family. While she couldn’t really help with compacting and sorting trash, she did keep him company and help find new trinkets to add to their collection back home. Since Phoenix was the only Fen-10 unit with a ‘soul,’ the rest were not much for conversation.

Once arriving at his destination, Phoenix knelt down to let Trucy, who was carrying the small, portable cooler they had for storing new treasures, off as Phoenix removed his backpack-slash-trash compactor and placed it on the ground. He glances at his surroundings, seeing the huge skyscrapers of trash cubes he and his fellow Fen-10 units created over the centuries. Despite many of these trash towers being taller than most of the abandoned buildings, he and the other androids barely made a dent in the sea of trash. This task has only been harder ever since the last Fen-10 broke down nearly three centuries ago. Phoenix couldn’t help but give out a sad and tired sigh as he gently rubbed the side of his face where a noticeable scratch lied. He turned back to the section of trash and fastened his gloves.

“C’mon Phoenix, just do a few more cubes and you’ll be done for today,” he whispered to himself. With Hello Dolly still blazing through his portable radio, Phoenix scoops two armfuls of aluminum cans, paper cups, and other miscellaneous pieces of trash into his compactor and starting it up. The loud sounds of the machinery crushing the trash muted out the song until the trash cube came sliding out once the machine was done. All that was left was to carry the cube to the stack and do it over again, and again, and again. As he and Trucy trekked up the already very tall structure of trash cubes, Trucy noticed a new treasure.

“Hey daddy,” she chimed, “look at this!” Trucy pointed to a silver disk that was lodged within one of the trash cubes as Phoenix began to tug it free. The two androids stared at disk, trying to figure out what it could be used as, when it began to reflect the light of the sun as it began to set, shimmering within its light.

“Wow, it’s so pretty,” Trucy stated in awe, “Can we keep it?”

“Heh, I don’t see why not,” Phoenix replied, “But it looks too big to keep in the cooler with the other things we found. I’ll carry it in the compactor until we get home.” With that, Phoenix places their newest trinket into his compactor before turning off his radio.

“I think this is enough for today,” Phoenix tiredly sighed, “Let’s go home sweetie.” Phoenix put his backpack back on and helped Trucy and the cooler up onto his shoulders. He then activated his retractable skates and carefully made his way back down the newest trash-scraper. The size of this paled in comparison to the others that Phoenix had created over the many years. Countless mountains of trash have been made by Phoenix over the years, and it look that there would only be even more in the future.

________________________________________________________________

The trek back home gave the two androids the full tour of the abandoned city that they lived in. They once again passed the huge Buy N Large Ultra Store that they have become all too familiar with. The store was absolutely massive and used to carry practically anything a person could need or want. It was as a great place to find supplies, tools, or just fun treasures to take home. The android family then passed by the gas station with one too many pumps and then the bank, which had many ATM’s and had the ground littered with abandoned currency. There was even a speaker that was still playing the Buy N Large theme song, as it was solar powered like Phoenix. Next was the ‘hall of advertisements,’ as Phoenix would playfully call it. Nothing but BNL advertisements of varying products and sizes as far as the optics could see. Phoenix and Trucy then made their way up a broken-down escalator, making their way to the monorail system. Phoenix paused as he approached the rail, checking to make sure it was safe to continue. His demeanor saddened as he knew that they would soon be approaching ‘the graveyard,’ the sight where hundreds of other Fen-10 units broke down. It was always hard to come this way, seeing basically himself lifeless. His daughter knew this all too well.

“Will you be okay Daddy?” she softly asked, “We can go a different way.” Phoenix snapped out of his thoughts and turned to her.

“No, it’s alright,” he replied, “This is the fastest way home. I just … need a moment.” He took a deep breath and gently shook his head.

{Just take it slow Phoenix. You’re going to be ok.} Phoenix squeezed Trucy’s hand, letting her know that he was alright. He then reactivated his skates and carefully made his way along the rail. The deactivated androids soon came into view. Large piles of Fen-10 units surrounded the monorail system, with each droid caked in rust and dust. Phoenix tried to focus on the rail or at the sunset, trying to avoid seeing what he would look like if he ever went offline. Suddenly, just when they reached a patch of solid ground, Phoenix’s deteriorating treads finally gave out. Both androids began to feel the quick, shaking movements of Phoenix’s broken treads unevenly traveling on the path. Phoenix carefully came to a stop to check on Trucy and the condition of his treads.

“You alright Truce,” Phoenix asked.

“I’m fine Daddy,” she replied as she slid off her father’s shoulders. Phoenix lifted his ped to inspect the damage, only to groan in frustration at how bad it was. There was no way to fix these treads with the tools back home, they were completely destroyed beyond repair. He needed a new pair to tread boots. His optics then landed on an offline Fen-10 unit slumped to his left, with a pair of tread boots in perfect condition. Phoenix looked between his destroyed boots and the unit’s boots. Phoenix sadly sighed and looked at the downed unit with guilt.

{… I’m sorry}

________________________________________________________________

After switching the boots, Phoenix and Trucy got back on the rail that lead them back to their bunker. Taking equipment or parts from the other Fen-10 units was always difficult, but sadly necessary. The factory where Phoenix was built ran out of parts practically in the first or second century. The plans, equipment, and supplies needed to recreate the parts Phoenix could need were lost or destroyed. This left Phoenix with no choice but to use the countless androids that littered his home. Since there were so many and the droids were built with durability that would make a cockroach jealous, Phoenix practically had an endless supply of equipment and parts that he would ever need. Even though they were never really ‘alive,’ he would always feel a bit guilty after taking the parts. He took some comfort knowing that Trucy will not have to deal with that. The local Tru-3 factory still has parts and they were able to secure the plans and equipment if Trucy ever needed new parts. The android family carefully continued on the rail, passing by abandoned apartments and destroyed factories and equipment, before finally coming to the downtown transit station. As Phoenix skated on the terminal floor, he passed an automatic advertisement that displayed exactly how the human population left the Earth.

“Too much garbage in your face,” the voice asked, “There’s plenty of space out in space! BNL Starliners leaving each day. We’ll clean up the mess while your away.” The advertisement had four individual screens, each showing a different scene when Phoenix moved passed them. The first was just an animated growing mountain of garbage, the second showed the BNL Starliner, the Axiom, soaring past the Earth, the third screen showed two Axioms taking off from their docking points, and the fourth one displayed about six Fen-10 droids doing their jobs as another Axiom takes off in the background.

{I guess it’s more like “I’ll clean up the mess while you’re still away” these days.} Phoenix and Trucy made their way to the end of the platform and pushed through the exit terminal gates. Just then, another, larger screen appeared above them with another advertisement of the Axiom.

“The jewel of the BNL fleet, the Axiom,” the voice exclaimed, “Spend your five-year cruise in style! Waited on 24 hours a day by our fully automated crew while your captain and auto-pilot chart a course for non-stop entertainment, fine dining, and with our all-access hover chairs, even grandma can join in the fun! There’s no need to walk! The Axiom, putting the star in executive starliner!” This advertisement showed hundreds of humans being pampered in a number of ways by all kinds of androids, be it by massages or by cooking hibachi-styled meals. It also showed the captain at the time and his android auto-pilot. Phoenix was always put off by the auto-pilot. He had slicked back grey hair, striking yet cold red and black eyes, and a stern face with noticeable wrinkles, making him look very old. It was almost as if that android could see right through your hardware. Phoenix’s paranoia about the auto-pilot android was interrupted by the image of the CEO of Buy N Large, Shelby Forthright, appearing on the screen.

“Because of BNL, space is the final fun-tier,” Forthright cheered as he waved to another Axiom taking off into the stars.

{I just wish you all would come back from that final fun-tier.}

______________________________________________________________

After a few more minutes, the android family finally arrived back at their bunker. It was set up on an abandoned, half-finished highway with a few deteriorating cars and construction vehicles in front. The bunker was designed as a place where Fen-10 units could power down after work, but Phoenix and Trucy made it into a suitable home over the centuries. Phoenix gained a good knowledge of machinery, electronics, and energy from reading books and downloading memory files, which helped him set up a small, yet sufficient home. Phoenix was able to fix the solar panels on the outside of the bunker to power everything in their home. They had working lights, heating and cooling systems, mechanics, and even an entertainment system with a DVD and VHS player, iPod that functioned as their television screen and sound system, and a few gaming systems. Phoenix was even able to repair a transceiver and screen that was capable of communication with a person in space if it linked with the other signal code. While they have never been able to reach anyone in space, they could still use its screen for their gaming system. Phoenix pulled up to a control panel, allowing Trucy to a lever that activated the door to their bunker. As the door slowly began to open, the sun’s light shown on the multitude of treasures they have collected over the years, be it a chandelier made from miscellaneous junk, a birdcage full of rubber ducks, or even a collection of clocks of varying types and sizes.

{Home sweet home.} Phoenix grabbed a power strip and flipped its switch, activating the lights in their bunker. Phoenix’s mood brightened as he stared at many treasures that he and Trucy collected over the centuries. Each item was a cherished memory he shared with his daughter. Phoenix helped Trucy off his shoulders before zipping off the top part of his jumpsuit, revealing the white undershirt underneath, and tying the sleeves around his waist. Phoenix began to hum the Hello Dolly show-tune as he strolled over to the entertainment system, taking the copy of Hello Dolly on VHS out of a decommissioned toaster to continue watching from the night before.

To say that phoenix loved Hello Dolly was an understatement. While there were other movies or shows that he and Trucy could watch, Hello Dolly had a special place in Phoenix’s core processor. The joyful music, lovable characters, and mesmerizing dance numbers always helped Phoenix and Trucy cheer up after a long day of trash sorting, treasure hunting, and seeing how badly the world keeps deteriorating. Moreover, this was her favorite musical. The favorite show of the Phoenix’s first and only human friend before every person evacuated the planet.

Phoenix placed the tape into the player and adjusted the large magnifying glass over the iPod’s screen, making the image of the town’s people in the scene bigger to see. With the familiar tune playing in the background, Phoenix and Trucy began to sort their new treasures, starting with the silver disk. As Phoenix turned what now appeared to be a hub cap from a car, he turned to look at the screen and took notice of the hats that the towns people were using in their dance number. Phoenix began to turn the disk above his head, mimicking the choreography of the scene.

{Well, that’s one thing we can use this for.} Phoenix placed the disk into one of the many shelves that lined the wall of the bunker. Trucy then opened up the cooler to take out the other treasures they had found throughout the day. Inside the cooler was a spork, a Rubik’s Cube, a hand-powered mixer, a light bulb, and an old BNL lighter. Trucy took out the spork and Rubik’s Cube, admiring the strange objects she found near the Ultra Store earlier that day. She placed the cube in a section that also housed one of her father’s art sculptures, which was a red clay heart with a spiked dog dollar around it on a spring. Trucy then moved to the section next to it to place the spork, trying to decide on whether to place it with their collection of forks or spoons. She eventually decided to put it in between the collections, as it was a fusion between the two. As Trucy placed the spork in its section, Phoenix pulled out the BNL lighter.

“What made you want to take this Trucy,” Phoenix questioned, “We must have nearly one hundred of these things by now.”

“Oh, it has something in it” Trucy replied, “I heard liquid inside when I picked it up. The others we have are empty. What do you think is in there?”

“I’m not sure,” Phoenix declared, “I don’t remember reading anything about these in our books or memory files. Let’s just put it with the others we found for now.” Phoenix moved to the end of the shelf and pressed the lowest button on its control panel, making the Ferris-wheel like mechanism begin to rotate the shelves until it reached the one with their collection of lighters. After placing the newest lighter in with the others, Phoenix’s audio receptors picked up a familiar sound. That song was playing again.

“And that is all, that loves about.

And we'll recall, when time runs out...”

Phoenix was always captivated by this song and scene. Seeing the two humans sweetly sing to each other, intertwine hands, and stare lovingly at each other made Phoenix’s core processor swell with happiness, but he also felt hints of jealousy and sadness. Phoenix let out a quiet sigh, surrounded in love and loneliness that Trucy managed to hear. She looked over to the screen, and anticipated her father’s next action.

“That it only,

Took a moment,

To be loved...

Whole...

Life...

Long.”

As the song began to end, Phoenix intertwined his own hands, mimicking the two humans on screen. There is was. Her father always held his own hands whenever he watched that scene. The scene was beautiful, but it also unintentionally rubbed what the two characters had that her father didn’t: Love.

This was not to say that Phoenix did not love her, extremely the opposite. Ever since Phoenix found her in the landfill her original ‘family’ left her in and re-activated her, he has been the greatest father she could ever ask for. He was always thinking of her and would do anything for her. He helped her recover and cope with her feelings of abandonment, shared with her everything he knew about the world, and would always make time for her for whatever she needed. Phoenix loved her with every ounce of his processor, no doubt about it.

But this was a different type of love. The two characters shared a romantic type of love, and her father did not have someone to share that kind of love with. He would try to hide his sadness over this from her; he did not want her to believe that their bond did not make him happy. Trucy understood how he felt, she did not have someone to share this kind of love with either. While she didn’t feel that strong of a desire for romantic love, probably due to her programming, she could see that her father wanted to experience that kind of love for himself, and not just watch it from movies. Trucy slowly walked over to her father and placed her hand on his arm.

“Daddy,” she carefully whispered. Phoenix slightly jumped at her touch. He looked over to her and then his hands, slowly separating them.

“I’m doing it again,” Phoenix softly mumbled, “I’m sorry Pumpkin, I …”

“Please don’t apologize Daddy,” Trucy reassured as she cupped her father’s face, “It’s not a bad thing to feel sad over this. You told me years ago that we have to feel what we need to feel. So please, if you need to feel sad, don’t hide it. Not even for my sake.” Phoenix held Trucy’s hands and gently pressed his forehead against hers. He knew that she was right. He shouldn’t be ashamed of his emotions. She’s not a naïve little android; she has changed and grown over the centuries. He shouldn’t be afraid to feel sadness around her, but he practically conditioned himself to in an attempt to spare her from feeling any undeserved guilt. He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead and cupped her face.

“What did I do to deserve the world’s most perfect daughter,” He softly asked.

“Saved me from becoming one of the many trash cubes you have to make,” she jokingly replied.  Phoenix couldn’t help but giggle at her clever comeback. He hugged her close as they turned toward the screen, watching the two characters walk off, hand-in-hand. Phoenix hugged Trucy tighter as the sadness and jealousy seeped back in. Trucy placed her hands on her father’s, staring up at him to see what he would do next. Phoenix sighed and turned his head towards her.

“Trucy,” he began, “I know that you already know this, but I love you. Without you, I’d be so miserable here. But … I wish we weren’t the only two beings left on Earth. I wish we didn’t have to do the same things all day, every day. I’m so tired of cleaning and making trash cubes. I’m frustrated that I’m the only Fen-10 unit still working. I’m angry that I was the only one alive. I hate that there is still so much trash left, and we have to take care of it ourselves. I wish that the humans were back. I wish that there were other androids we could interact with. I wish that…”

“Easy Daddy,” Trucy interrupted, “Don’t overload your processor. Just take it slow.” Phoenix’s voice was getting faster and higher in pitch. Anymore and he might have needed to change his voice box. He took a deep breath to collect his thoughts.

{Easy Phoenix, you don’t have to say everything on your mind right now. Like Trucy says, take it slow.}

“… I want more out of life Truce,” he continued, “I don’t want to sound ungrateful for what we have now. Having you with me, collecting treasures together, making art, … it does make me happy. You make me very happy. … But that scene … it reminds me of what we could have … or what we never may have.” Phoenix knelt down to be at eye level with his daughter, placing his hands on her shoulders. He tried to speak again, but his melting pot of emotions made him stop to think about how he should say what needs to be said. However, Trucy caught on to what he wanted to say.

“I feel the same way Daddy,” Trucy revealed, “I love going with you to work and treasure hunting, but … I also want to do more. I want our lives to change.”

Change. Change is something that many people often fear. After all, fear is the result of not knowing something. But when you have been doing the same things for centuries, you might welcome a change of pace with open arms.

“I want to do the things that the humans in the movies can do,” Trucy added, “I want to meet people. I want to go on picnics, go to the beach, travel the world. I want an ..”

“Adventure,” Phoenix interjected. Phoenix gently sighed, feeling a weight lift off of his shoulders after sharing his frustrations, and remembering that he does not need to hide anything from his daughter. He couldn’t help but quietly laugh at how he fell for the cliché plot of hiding his true feelings to spare another’s; one of the curses of having a human ‘soul’: you have human flaws and make human mistakes. Phoenix pulled Trucy into a gentle hug.

“Truce, I really am sorry for hiding how I’ve been feeling, but I’m happy that you finally got it out of me,” Phoenix apologized, “I should have known that you were feeling the same way.”

“I’ve been hiding it too Daddy,” Trucy replied, “I was worried that I would hurt your feelings if I told you how I was feeling about this.”

“But this …. This is good. It feels good to talk about this. We shouldn’t be afraid to talk to each other about anything like this anymore. Trucy … if you ever feel unhappy, frustrated, or anything, never be afraid to talk to me about it. And I promise to do the same.” Trucy wrapped her arms around her father’s neck, tightening their hug. Phoenix felt his core processor swell with relief and happiness, knowing that the unneeded burden of hiding their true emotions was lifting. He knew that it would take some time to break this habit, but they took the first step. With more open talks and support, they can and will cope with their situation.

{An adventure would be nice. It would be great to do something else, go somewhere new … Wait a minute! Somewhere new!} Phoenix straightened his posture as an idea entered his mind.

“I think I know a little adventure we can have,” Phoenix exclaimed, “There’s a section of the city that we haven’t gone to, not even once! I think it’s called Sector 358, South-West from here. I’m supposed to finish Sector 174 tomorrow, but how about we skip it and go there instead!” Trucy looked up at her father in surprise and excitement.

“Really, a new sector,” Trucy thrilled, “You really mean it?”

“Of course. I’ll still be doing my job, but we’ll have a change of pace. What do you say?”

“Y-yeah! That sounds great! Think of all the new treasures we can find! This is gonna be awesome!” Trucy began to pace around the bunker, happily listing all of the new things she and her father could do and see. She began to speak faster and her voice raised in pitch. Phoenix waved her down and then spoke.

“Heh, take it easy Pumpkin! Now you’re gonna overload your processor. But, I’m glad your excited. Why don’t we plan out what we can do at the sector while we finish sorting our new treasures?” Trucy took a deep breath and calmed her excitement. She then joined her father by the cooler, trying to find a fitting place for the hand-powered mixer.

________________________________________________________________

The sun had finally set and the night sky began to sparkle with the lights of the stars … is what one would see if the smog wasn’t blocking the atmosphere. Phoenix and Trucy had finished Hello Dolly and placed their new treasures in their collection. Trucy was on top of the bunker trying to catch a glimpse of the stars while her father was carefully banging the cooler on the ramp of their bunker to clean out the dirt and dust from the day.

“Hey Daddy,” Trucy called, “The smog is clearing a bit! You can see the stars!” Phoenix looked up to the sky as a grin grew on his face, joyful to see that his daughter was right. It was a small hole in the smog, but it was enough to see the silvery dots speckled across the black darkness of space. The beauty of the sight made Phoenix couldn’t help but think back to the song “It only takes a moment.” The soft lyrics and melody did fit the sight of a calm sky well. Phoenix pulled out a tape recorder and pressed the play button. The song, which Phoenix had recorded earlier began to play as Phoenix continued to stare at the night sky. Phoenix sighed as the beauty of the song mixed perfectly with the calmness of the shimmering stars.

However, the song was only able to play the first line as the smog once again covered the sky. The sound of the song was then replaced with the blaring siren of Phoenix’s alarm system. Phoenix stiffened and gasped at the sudden change of sound and quickly pulled his goggles over his eyes to see what and where the danger was. Phoenix’s line of vision fixated directly in front of him.

[WARNING! LEVEL 3 DUST STORM APPROACHING!

SPEED: 249 MPH

ESTIMATED ARRIVAL TIME TO CURRENT LOCATION: 30 SECONDS

SEEK SHELTER IMMEDIATELY!]

“Oh no,” Phoenix quietly gulped before turning to warn Trucy, “TRUCY! SANDSTORM COMING IN FAST! GET INSIDE, QUICK!” Trucy quickly sat up upon hearing her father’s cry and scrambled to her feet. She quickly climbed down the bunker’s side ladder and sprinted into the door. Once she was safely inside, Phoenix flipped the switch on the power strip to close the door. Phoenix and Trucy moved to the back of the bunker, watching the door slowly close. They hugged each other and held their breaths as they saw the storm quickly approach. Once the door finally closed and locked, they let out a sigh of relief.

{These storms are getting more and more common. No matter how many we face, it never gets easier.} Phoenix and Trucy stayed silent for a few seconds, listening to the wind blow around their bunker and the song. Trucy was the first to notice that the song was still playing and began to giggle at the unfitting music after narrowly escaping the dust storm. Trucy’s giggles alerted Phoenix to the song and he couldn’t help but laugh along with her. As he pressed the off button, Trucy let out a yawn. She pressed the button that held her cape together and checked her stats. Her energy was low.

“Heh, it is pretty late,” Phoenix chuckled, “We should get some sleep. We’ve got quite a day tomorrow.” Phoenix and Trucy made their way to the very back of the bunker to their beds. Phoenix was able to hook up Trucy’s charger to her cot so she could be charged when she went to sleep. Trucy removed her cape, gloves, ascot, boots, and pulled her hair out of the pony tail while Phoenix completely removed the top part of his jumpsuit and pulled off his boots. After Trucy settled into her bed, Phoenix strolled over to tuck her in.

“Good night sweetie,” Phoenix cooed as he kissed her forehead.

“Goodnight Daddy,” Trucy yawned. It only took a few seconds for Trucy to power down and fall asleep. Phoenix softly smiled as he made his way over to his cot and pulled the quilt over his body. Phoenix stared up at the ceiling, letting his body relax after the long day.

{Just an average day. … With a few changes.} Phoenix closed his eyes and allowed himself to power down, letting himself drift off to sleep.

________________________________________________________________

                                                       Author’s Note

Man, I did not mean for this to take so long.

As you can see, this au follows the story of the Disney and Pixar movie Wall-e. If you have seen the movie, then you know around 85% of the story’s plot. If you have not seen this movie, then this will contain spoilers for it. But I am adding new scenes to the story to keep it interesting, so I hope you all continue to enjoy it.

The scene with Trucy and Phoenix in the bunker was difficult to write. I wanted to write that scene in a careful, honest, and respectful way. Being someone who suffers with depression, I know first-hand how important it is to one’s health to talk about one’s emotions and feelings. If you are struggling with your emotions and how you feel, please talk to someone you trust or seek out a therapist or councilor. And if you know or see someone struggling with this, please help them in the best way you can. You could save a life. Your feelings and mental health matter, always remember that.

So, can you guys guess which Ace Attorney character is Auto? If you remember what Auto does to Wall-e near the end, then you should get your answer.

And who is this mysterious woman that Phoenix befriends? Who is the woman that Phoenix has the highest regard for? See the next chapter to find out!

[reticent-morty]

Return to reality

Gazing at the stars, longing to return to some place familure. Wishing to go see the last person in his life that means anything, whom may still be alive. It’s a mirical that he’s even alive today, battling nearly every day against the elements and others sent to kill him. 2 years ago he wrecked his ship on this uninhabited moon of a titan planet.

Nearly untouched by sentient minds, the lands on the small earth like planet have life. Luscious forests almost identical to earth. Wildlife with uncanny resemblances to earth like animals, but obvious differentces set them apart from those he remembers. He’s survived on primitive hunting methods, and recent upgrades thanks to a cave in a mountain range near the crash site. He found magnificent purple energy crystals there, with scraps from the ship, his assassin dodging and beating skills have kicked it up a notch.

He’s gone every day longing for home, but every day starts the same and ends the same, totally alone.

He climbs down from his crows nest perch in the tall tree he has designated as his base. Logs strapped to sturdy branches provide secret, easy to maneuver across walk ways through the trees above. Hidden by branches below, his shadowy figure is hard to spot from the forest floor, and it’s nearly impossible to spot him at night.

With swift feet he makes quick work of the long wooden trail ahead, these logs go on for what seems like miles. With trails in the under brush to spy on below, he has his little maze of security to thank for his safety this year. The onslaught of people after his head has been intense lately. Every few days, there’s some new bad ass sneaking through in one manner or another trying to spot him.

He’s smart, he’s learned from the best, he won’t get caught that Easy. He’ll make his way out of this place before he’s killed here. He’s made good use of the unmoving ship. Heat shields in the walls of his ship make good body-heat signature shields. He’s Blocking technology and predators from seeing his warmth. It lines the dark coat he wears, draping over his body, giving him the likeness of a shadow in the canopy. It makes good insulation too, as the seasons shift to cooler weather, it helps him stay warm.

Most that come looking to kill him come looking for a human. So he’s created a mask to hide his human features. Covering his face with the image of a crow or raven. A long black beak with feathers placed to finish the look. A hood comes up over his head to pull it to gether. The mask has the lining off the ship as well. He is a shadow.

Ahead is a long gap in the tree canopy. Giving way to the scene of a partially grown over Star Wars ship. His favorite functional X wing fighter, one of his own creations from many years ago. The site of one of the worst days of his life, the place he rests his head some nights. Only nights he’s most sure he won’t be ambushed will he stay here. He has many places to sleep set up through this stretch of forest.

He drops down from the safety of the trees and slinks into the cockpit of the ship. The seat cradles him as he settles in, letting his hood fall to his shoulders he takes his mask off and hangs it on a now useless lever. Reti takes in a deep breath and let’s it out slowly, watching the mask dangle back and forth. He watches it till it halts, he sighs again and reaches beyond the mask, to a small lock box built into the ship. Fingers brushing over it, does he dare look inside? If he does, he’ll surely be soothed to sleep by tears. He’s full of hesitation, unsure if he should peer within his secret treasure box..

He pulls his hand back to his chest and rolls to his side in the chair. He tries to ignore it, but as time drags on and sleep doesn’t come to him he’s driven to reach down past the chair and get the small key. Awkwardly twisting to get back in a position he can open the box at, he gets he key in the cello key, twists..

The drawer opens like the dash of a car, reveieling small trinkets and a small stack of paper, along with a wallet, and a busted pistol.

The pistol was Megs. He carried that gun for many years, he had it the day he met Reti, and he put it on a shelf the day it stopped working. Meg didn’t have the heart to repair it again, he decided It had reached its grave. The paper in the box are some small notes, from his old bedside drawer in Meg’s old base, and some from Meg’s drawer. The last few pages are photographs. One, was of him and Meg, many years ago. Sitting against one of Meg’s many fantastic cars. It was a great day.. the photo was taken by Meg, on his phone, with his other arm over reti’s shoulder..

He’s feeling a sharp pain in his chest. It aches deep in his ribs. The next photo is of him and summer, back when her hair was bright red and she always had a smirk or a smile on her face. She was determined, brave, ready to put a smile on Meg’ss face any chance she got.

The last photo is of summer, sitting alone on a balcony. Broken and staring out across the night time view of the haven. His lips draw back and tears start to stream down his cheeks. Guilt flooding him. Sadness seeping into his every bone. “I’m so sorry I left... I miss you so much.” He sobs.

Months have passed since he cried, since he’s let himself feel what he’s experienced and what he’s caused. Months since he’s acknowledged his grief. So much bottled up comes pouring out, he remains there crying for what felt like eternity before he falls asleep.

In the morning, he’ll be just the same as he was in the tree tops. Dark and unfeeling, silent and watchful. Ready to make expanses to his territory like an animal. Ready to defend himself and stay alive, to find a way home

[kay-jay8]

Heat and Warmth

It’s hot.

The sun is fading and sets low in the horizons, radiating rays of heat despite the eveningtide as they silently walk along the quiet sidewalk. Nonetheless, the dusting hues of a sunset fashioned an almost surreal scenery while they strolled home after endless hours of lessons. Honestly, islands in the middle of nowhere have the best view in the world, no matter how small of a piece of land it is. Still, even with the cool breeze that flows throughout the isle, the air seems to be getting hotter somehow, which is unusual for someone like Alibaba. Usually, this degree of warmth wouldn’t have bothered him as much as it is now. Under normal conditions, he would barely break a sweat; having been used to living in harsher and more feverish surroundings compared to Sindria’s much cooler, seaside weather. It makes him wonder if he’s adapted to his temporary home well enough to be affected by the change that came with summer slowly creeping in. Or maybe…

“Hey Alibaba.”

“Yeah?” He glances down to his right, trapped in the sight of crimson tresses dancing in gentle waves to the beat of the wind. It’s alluring how the dark locks of her hair catches the sunlight, reflecting and highlighting the deep reds of each strand. He can’t help imagining the flickering of a fire while admiring her soft scarlet hair.

“You’ll be heading back soon, right?” She asks, kicking at a few stray pebbles from under her. Her ruby eyes glow underneath the light of the sunset as she looks forward, watching the burning star silently slip away. “Back to Balbadd...back to your home.”

He takes a moment before answering, taken aback by her sudden question. “...I am.”

“It’s only for the summer. I'll be back a few days before the new semester begins, so I don’t really have to worry about getting caught up with the academy like I had to the year before. I’ll have plenty of time before then. Isn’t that great, Morg? I’ll have a couple of days to hang with you and Aladdin before lessons start up again.” He grins at her, giving her hand intertwined in his a light squeeze.

Morgiana returns his gesture, the tips of her ears turning a rosey pink as she does so.

“Balbadd, what’s it like?”

“Beautiful. When you enter the city, the people there are so alive and cheerful that it makes everything bright and dazzling. They’re kind, they’ll greet you with all sorts of imported trinkets that I just know you’d like. Of course, it’s crowded and people are always in a rush, plus it can get pretty chaotic at times, but, I wouldn’t have it any other way. Street markets are constantly bursting with life, filled to the brim with clothes and foods and all these amazing things from all over the world! Man, I wish you could see it! Nothing is more worthwhile than seeing the people of my country flourishing.”

She listens to him intently, her gemstone orbs sparkling in amazement as he describes his homeland to her. Alibaba can hardly contain his own excitement while reciting memories of the Kingdom of Balbadd.

“That’s why, one day, I want you to be able to see it for yourself, Morgiana.”

They’ve long since stopped walking, paused on the side of the quiet road. There are faint crashes of waves against rocks, the sound of the sea's distinctive call.

“What do you say? When you’ve graduated from Sindria’s Academy and grown a bit more, would you come and see the Kingdom of Balbadd with me?”

“I-I...wah.” She stutters, speechless and wide-eyed. She’s stunned, which is a given. Afterall, an orphan like herself could only dream of traveling to a place as great as Balbadd and with the third prince of the country, no less.

“And I won’t be escorting you as Alibaba Saluja the Crowned Prince of Balbadd, but as Alibaba, son of Anise.”

“Don’t feel pressured to accept, Morg.” He continues, reaching out his hand to wipe away the stray tears that fall from her lashes. “I’m sorry. I'm just being a little selfish. I didn’t mean to make you cry Morgiana, I just wanted you to see how wonderful my country is with your own eyes. It’s enough that, for now, you’re by my side.”

“For now.” She repeats his words, staring into his caramel gaze. “How long will ‘for now’ last? You’ve been crowned the next heir of Balbadd, Alibaba. How long can this go on before it ends? Alibaba, you are a prince with duties and responsibilities that I could never pretend to comprehend. Just how are we going to work when you become king? I have neither the noble blood and the influence to be able to stay by your side.”

“That doesn’t matter, I will find a way for us.”

“And what if you can’t?”

He is silent, he isn’t sure whether it is due to the fact he had no answer for her or that Morgiana, who is always full of determination and hope, is now looking at him with such a hopelessness in her eyes. It hurts him to see her like this, knowing he is the cause of the loss of the gleam in her gaze. “I can’t guarantee that I’ll have an answer for us if that time ever comes, but I will find a way. No matter what.”

“Alibaba…”

He can’t look her in the eye as he pulls her forward into his arms, engulfing her in his larger frame. As a prince, he had a duty to fulfill to both his country and his people. So, giving up the crown was not an option, the both of them knew that much. But he was very much willing and ready to if Morgiana had only let him when his father first announced his crowning.

“Let’s go home for now.” Alibaba finally says after a moment, releasing Morgiana from his hug. “I’m sure Aladdin’s waiting for us.”

“Yeah...okay.”

Her hand is cool when he takes it into his own as he continues to lead them to Sinbad’s palace.

It’s dark and there is no trace of the sun in the blanket of twilight dusk, but the heat of the sunlight still remains.

things to note:

this is set in a au. which one? im not sure about that myself lol

alibaba's older brothers are no long inline for succession to the throne due to the exact reasons the previous king of Balbadd had mentioned before his death in the anime/manga. (Ahbmad having been taken down and Sahbmad stepping down from position as potential kings)

alibaba and morgiana are together in this fic

Sindria is still a kingdom ruled under Sinbad (alibaba staying with him as the son of a dear friend, while Morgiana is Masrur's adopted niece)

the academy is a institution of learning for future leaders and anyone with the potential of becoming leaders. Sinbad created this school to keep count of and make connections with different countries as well as their future rulers

morgiana is only able to attend because she is Masrur's niece

alimor's relationship is a secret, give or take a few friend who know about it

alibaba is in Sindria to learn and grow to be a better king (was sent by his father)

anise is still dead

kassim/cassim is still alive, but is one of the reasons why alibaba was sent to Sindria

If you have any questions, feel free to ask! :)

also: check out my other works @Kay_jay88 

[uglymanchronicles]

Ugly Man Chronicles Reignition Book 1 Chapter 1: Interview With M. Soltero, possible witness

Let’s get this motor running again.  Some important scary people interview a hapless gas station clerk about a friendly stranger.

The hell you suits want to talk to me for? You ICE? You can fuck right off.  My grandfather moved here legally from Puerto Rico in the 60s, and that means I'm a fucking American, whether you like it or not.  I know I got a juvie record, but I ain't been in trouble for five years and—

What bureau?  That bureau?  Shit. Uh, I mean, sorry about that, sirs. Crazy times, you know?  Gets a guy jumpy.  

Strange? Strange how? You work at a gas station in the middle of the desert, you get strange more often than normal, dig?

…okay, there was one guy that stands out.  It was… four days now, I think.  About 4 in the afternoon.  Kinda slow, just a couple folks in here.  Then this big fucker walks in.  Well over six feet, like three feet wide, more’n a foot thick. He's wearing these big-ass sunglasses and, uh, yeah, it was an Ohio State hat.  I remember that.  Colorado's pretty far from home for a buckeye, right?  Weird.  

Anyway, this guy kinda glances at me, and then I kinda see him freeze, just for a second.  Like, he just stutters in place for like a quarter-second, like film skippin’.  And I can tell he's trying to look at me, but he's trying to hide it.  He goes around towards the back by the coolers and I gotta look away, I got customers. After I ring up a couple people, I look up again, checking in the anti-shoplifting mirror back there, and my blood just fuckin' freezes, because he's looking right back at me in the mirror.  We musta made eye contact, man.  It was some of the scariest shit I've ever seen.

So he's hanging back, obviously waiting for everyone else to leave, and I'm thinking, shit, he's gonna rob the place.  I try to get a better look at him, because fuck, for all I know I'm gonna have to describe this guy to the cops later—if he doesn't kill me.

It ain't like I've never been held up before, but you don't really get used to it, I don't care how badass some dudes tend to be.  Being under a gun blows.  So by the time the store empties out and this guy starts heading towards the counter, I am panic-tweaking, man.  I'm trying to take in as many details as I can; it's like time's slowing down.  And as I look at this guy, I realize I have no idea what ethnicity this guy is.  He's got a big forehead and this slicked-back ponytail that make me think he's some kinda Indian—native, I mean, you get those guys here from time to time—but his skin’s this weird olive-red color that makes him looks like a sunburned half-Latino or something, and he's got those big lips like some black guys got. So fuck if I can tell.  And he gets closer, and I see his nose is all kinds of fucked up.  Like, it was broke down, and then left, and then right, and then back kinda towards the center so it zig-zags all over his face and is big and flat.  There's this huge gash running across it, all the way across his face.  

Right, the scars, Jesus.  Two of ‘em up the right side of his neck all the way onto his cheek, one big one down his lips right to the left of his nose, and then his left cheek just… you know how people look when they get a new face after they get mauled or burned or some shit? Like that but not really smooth.  All ground up looking but still kinda smoothed over, like, sandpapered, if that makes sense.  I think part of his ear was gone, too.  Real fucked up stuff, like… how's this guy still alive, you know?

So I'm staring at him like a jackass, and he’s just staring at me.  I realize all of a sudden he’s come up to the counter and I’m like, oh yeah, I was thinking this guy was gonna rob me.  But before I can hit the alarm, he reaches up and pulls off those sunglasses, and this guy’s got the bluest fuckin’ eyes I’ve ever seen.  Maybe it was because they stood out against his skin, who knows.  But anyway, he kinda looks to the side, like he’s nervous, and then he says, in this weirdly soft voice for a guy his size, “I know this is rude, but I can’t think of any other way to ask it.  What are you?”

Then I realize.  This motherfucker is aware.  Newly aware.  He can see I’m not human.  That I'm an orc.  But I feign dumb, act all indignant for a bit, but he's just staring into my eyes with this… I dunno, what's the word? ‘Earnesty'? And it just all comes apart.

I kinda falter for a second, look down, feel kinda ashamed for some reason.  He asks me if I smoke, and what kind.  He buys a pack and tells me that I should take a break, hands me the smokes.  I tell my manager I'm taking a break and follow this guy outside.

We wind up sitting on the curb behind the station, and for a couple minutes he doesn't say anything. I can basically hear him thinking, like he's sorting through all the questions he has, real deliberately.  And then, real hesitantly, and apologizing again, he asks what I am. So we go back and forth, me answering and him asking.  I'm an orc, I was born this way to human parents, we don’t really have any special powers, I only know a few other paranormals, the illusion happens naturally. He asks a lot of questions that I don’t know the answer to, like deep questions.  Is the illusion a property of paranormals or of the human brain, can a person become aware by accident, how many people are aware per million, that sort of thing. Real big-picture stuff.  After I tell him I don’t know this stuff, and he seems kinda… embarrassed, I guess.  He was sorta hard to read.  Real expressive, but all the scars and shit made it kinda hard to tell what he was actually expressin’.

After he got embarrassed he sorta excused himself, but he asked if I had ever heard of anyone who could maybe point him towards more information.  I told him that my cousin had once mentioned a pawnbroker in Albuquerque that dealt in magic trinkets, but I didn’t know much more than that. He thanked me—like, practically fell over himself thankin’ me—and passed me this huge wad of bills like it was nothing. Then he hopped in this big old RV towin’ a janky-lookin’ blue Bug and drove off south.  Before you ask, I didn’t catch the plate, sorry.

That sound like the guy you’re looking for?  I mean… I hope he ain’t in any trouble.  He seemed pretty decent to me.  Kind of a dork, I guess, but real well-meaning.  Hell, he gave me enough money that I can finally get my girl an engagement ring.  

‘Potential asset’? Christ.  Well, now I feel worse talking to you.  Look, you need anything else?  My boss is already up my ass about takin’ too many smoke breaks.

[turtle-inserts]

Through Hell and Back (Donnie x Reader)

You've been through hell and back. Not only had you narrowly escaped the mutagen bomb, but you'd been taken prisoner in some sort of fucked up zoo that showcased all of the "unnatural" mutations plus one human, you. The other mutants ranged from globs of flesh to multiple limbed with protruding bones. Their cries were ghastly and would haunt you for the rest of your life. The screaming had almost never stopped, the poor things were in so much pain. The monsters that had caught you would parade you around from stronghold to stronghold, collecting water and gas as payment for the mutants to stare at you for a couple minutes, marveling at how you'd survived. Some began calling you "the finale" and the name stuck ever since. It The majority of the stronghold's residents had never seen a human, the typical lifespan tended to cut short when you live in a post-apocalyptic wasteland desert, and this made it so all original humans were either dead or getting close to it. You were a marvel to them, a trinket from an era long gone. You were the finale to that time period.

The only reason you had survived that night, was because of him. Donnie. He knew something big was coming, it had shown up on the scanners that night and being the most inexperienced of the group, he had made you stay in his lab with the doors locked. He made sure to kiss you goodbye and tell you he loved you before he left with his brothers in the shell-raiser. When the bomb had gone off, the entire lair shook, parts of the ceiling had come down and big chunks of debris could be heard hitting the door and at some point, one had come crashing onto your head. You weren't sure how long you were out but after you were conscious again you had yelled at him, hopeful he would show up, but instead you were met with silence. You had started to panic when green ooze dripped from what was at one point the ceiling. There was no way out and you knew that was mutagen. You weren't sure what had happened, but you knew it was bad. 

You carefully avoided the nasty green nonsense and made your way to Donnie's invention storage. Quickly looking through you had found a laser that could slice through anything, a gas mask and some snacks. You had used the laser to cut through the debris and up onto the streets. You were met with desert, desert, and (you guessed it) more desert. The air was so toxic you could barely breathe, so you slipped on the gas mask and after taking in the emptiness around you, went back to the lab to grab more supplies and to have a mild panic attack. Once you had your shit together you had managed to rig together one of the guys old motorcycles and took off in search of other people who might need your help. After years of searching, you woefully concluded your family was dead, along with your friends. If they had faced the bomb head on, there was no hope for them.

You were younger when they caught you, at least mid-twenties. They found you while you were asleep in a gas station that had managed to survive the bombings and constant sandstorms. You were out cold; after managing to find drinkable water and non-expired food you chowed down then passed out within a minute from sheer exhaustion. When you felt their hands grab you, you had put up a fight, but one human versus 30-something wolf mutants doesn't end well no matter how hard you fight. The only reason you had managed to escape was that the scouts for their group had discovered old alcohol and were too plastered to stop you. Before you fled you made sure to kick a few asses, as well as take some food, water, a gun, and your old bike. Now you could continue your search for the "oasis" some meerkat mutants had told you about. You thought it was only a legend, especially when they had started praying to some wacko called the "holy chalupa" but what was the harm in looking right? Not as if you had anything better to do alone in the desert.

After kicking ass, you headed North. If this was some kind of unholy desert, then north would be cooler right? Less heat more trees, the whole shebang! Unfortunately, after being trapped in a cage for well over 15 years, you were a little rusty on the whole "apocalypse survival" crap. You had eaten through your supplies within the first week and you were running low on gas.

"Son of a bitch," you muttered as the bike slowed to a stop. Letting out a loud groan you got off and let the thing tip over on its side with a loud bang. "It's been great having you again while I could," you rubbed the Hamato clan insignia painted onto the side of it before continuing to head north. Days passed, you were dehydrated, starving, and had no sleep since you'd escaped. If Donnie were here, he'd say these were the perfect conditions for hallucinations and heat exhaustion. In this deprived state, you passed out quickly, but after waking up, he stood there, as if waiting for you. He looked exactly the same, nothing had changed. Same chocolate brown eyes, same purple bandana, and the same gap tooth grin he always wore when he saw you.

"Y/n? Y/N! Boy am I glad to see you!" He ran forwards and enveloped you in a tight hug.

"W-wait. What? Donnie how-how are you here?"  You could barely believe it was true, but there he was right in front of you!

"Come on, haven't you missed me?" Oh great, now he looked hurt. You managed to hug him back, but he felt different. You weren't sure how you just knew.

"Donnie, I don't- I don't understand?"

"What's wrong sweetheart?" He released you and sat on the ground, patting the area next to him. You obliged, not as if there was anywhere else for you to sit in this godforsaken desert.

Leaning on him you let out a tired whisper as he wrapped his arm around you, "How are you alive?"

"Same as you, I survived the bomb. I've been living out here ever since. You should come with me, we could try to fix this mess together. Donnie and (Y/n), just like old times." He began to ramble on about all the great things the two you would accomplish together. He spoke about how much he had missed holding you and loving you. You wanted to believe it, you really did but one thing was holding you back.

"Donnie, I found your carapace." He froze, "I went back to where the city was and it was there, in plain sight. Hollowed out."

"But I'm here now? So how could that have been mine?" You allowed yourself one more moment in his arms before letting out a sigh and standing. You didn't want to live in a fantasy.

"You aren't real." The boy sighed before following your lead.

"No, but you want me to be. You wish I was here, so in your dehydrated and dying state your brain created-"

"a hallucination." You finished the sentence and what followed was silence. Looking behind you, there was nothing, he was gone. Choking back a sob, you marched onwards. You had longed for his touch for what felt like an eternity, you'd give anything to see him one last time, but you wanted the real thing, not a hallucination. But that wasn't the last time you saw him.

The second time was a few days later. You had found part of an old house and while scavenging it, you had stumbled upon some bad food. It was definitely expired and it gave you stomach cramps something fierce. Your face was contorted in pain as you lay on the ground of the partially shaded home, you let out a strangled cry but stopped when you heard him speak.

"Do you remember what I told you when you ate that old pizza after Mikey dared you to?" Letting out a groan you turned on your side. You couldn't deal with this right now. "Really (Y/n)? I'm trying to help. What did I tell you to do?"

You thought back to that day, Mikey had found a pizza in the sewer and dared you to eat it, he bet you couldn't eat a whole slice and boy oh boy did you prove him wrong real quick, but you paid a steep price. Donatello had come to help you. He said, "To take calming deep breaths, and to lie on my back."

He smiled and nodded, "What else?"

"I don't fucking remember Donnie! That was over thirty years ago!" You almost felt bad for snapping at him, but you were in too much pain to care.

"True, but science proved pain causes one to remember what caused it and how to relieve it." The glare you gave him must've finally gotten the message across because he let finally told you what you wanted, "You need to go throw up. It'll dehydrate you, but so will this." Struggling to stand, you walked out and behind the house and upchucked whatever gross concoction you had just downed not even an hour ago.

looking up at your hallucination you asked, "Why are you even helping me? You're not real."

He smiled softly at you, just how you remembered Donnie used to, "Because you need to survive. You need to keep going and you know If I was really here, that's what I'd want you to do. I'd want you to live." You blinked and he was gone.

Every time you thought you were in trouble, the dumb thing would reappear offering advice. You resented it- him- the hallucination. It was helpful, but it brought back painful memories of before the bomb. When life was easier and the earth was still beautiful. When the real Donnie was still alive. That last thought made you stop dwelling on the past. You had been walking since before the sun had risen, and now it was setting over the trees. You were zoned out all day! Wait a second, trees?  You felt your hopes rise, was this the legendary oasis!? How had you not noticed this earlier, all around you is green! These trees are alive! A smile spread on your face until you heard his voice.

"You made it. I knew you could."

"Oh," you felt your heart drop, "this is another hallucination. Like the ones I'd see on T.V. when the cartoon character wanders the desert and thinks they see an oasis." With a sigh, you sat on the ground. You were so tired, so god damn tired of trying.

He thought for a second before speaking, "Well, does it feel like a hallucination"

"No, but isn't that how they work? They feel real?"

"Do I feel real?"

"Not really, no."

"Do the grass and trees feel real?"

Hastily reaching for the lowest branch and ran my hand through the overgrown grass. It felt real. It didn't have that weird sensation like when I touched the ghostly hallucination in front of me.

He grinned as he looked at the realization dawning on your face, "well there's your answer." And with that, he was gone. Tears ran hot down your face, you had actually made it! Against all odds, you were here. There are real-life trees and plants and even insects! Normal, non-mutant insects! You let out a chuckle and le your head lean against the tree behind you.  The chuckle turned into an all-out laugh, and then into sobs racking your entire body. You didn't stop, not even when you heard the tree by you rattle, but when you saw something shiny gleaming in the sunlight you looked up. Was it a robot? How did it get here? You took in the sight of it, it had some kind of rabbit-like antennae with a purple band surrounding its eyes. Neither of you said a thing, just stared at each other for awhile until it finally spoke.

"(Y/n)?"

You pushed some of your hair behind your ear, how did it know your name? You replied anyway. "Yea?" The robot didn't move.

A thundering voice boomed from behind it, "Yo Donnie, what's the holdup- holy shit." A giant turtle mutant stared down at you. It wore a red bandana and was much bigger than the skinny robot. Behind him stood a scrawny old turtle with an orange bandana, and what looked to be a turtle on steroids with the bluest eyes you'd ever seen. They all just stared at you. No one moving or saying a thing.

Realization slowly dawned on you. "G-guys?"

Mikey was the first to run up and hug you. He was laughing as he embraced you, picking you up and swinging you around. You were crying again, but now you were happy about it. Raph was the next to hug you, something you never thought would happen. When Leo approached you looked him up and down, "Jeez, I thought Donnie was supposed to be the tallest." He seemed relieved and let out a chuckle as you tried but failed to wrap your arms around him. There was only one person left, the robot.

He rubbed the back of his neck, almost as if he was shy. "Uh, hey (Y/n). Long time no see?" Looks like he's still an awkward dork.

"This explains the empty turtle shell I found. But," you punched his arm, "it doesn't explain why you didn't come find me." His antennae flopped down and he looked distressed, for a robot he sure was full of expressions. He went to say something but you cut him off. "I forgive you, Donnie. Life is too short to be caught up on crap like that." You wrapped your arms around his neck and held him tight. His body may be different but it was the same old Donatello in there. He paused before returning the gesture. The two of you stood there, embracing each other, neither one daring to move for what felt like an eternity. When you finally pulled away from each other you peppered little kisses all over his metallic face as tears started to roll down yours. You could hear his gears speed up and his face started to feel hot under your lips. 'I've missed you, so so much. I thought I'd never see you again."

"I missed you too." He stood and after brushing himself off, he picked you up and placed you on his shoulders. "Lets get you back to camp sweetheart. You look dehydrated and we can talk more in the morning after you've rested." Simply nodding in response you drifted off to sleep on the walk back. You felt him lower you down onto something soft but before he could leave you grabbed his arm.

"Please don't go." You could imagine the smile on his face as he lay down next to you. Surprisingly he wasn't as cold as you thought he'd be.

You were almost asleep again when you heard him whisper, "Sorry"

"For what?"

"I just- I know this wasn't what you were expecting, the whole robot thing I mean."

"Donnie, I thought you were dead. I wasn't even expecting to see you again EVER. The only thing I'm disappointed about is I can't see the adorable expression you make when I embarrass you. The ears are cute tho, they convey a lot of emotion for what your face lacks."

"You like it?"

'Hell yea Don, it's super cool. I'm dating a cool turtle robot ninja genius. I don't think anyone can ever top that."

He let out a low chuckle, "God I love you."

That simple string of words, that's what you'd missed the most. Your heart swelled and filled with adoration for the man you'd missed all these years. With a shaky voice, you replied, "I-I love you too." He nuzzled his face to your forehead and wished you goodnight. It was the best sleep you'd had in awhile and many more nights of it would follow.

[jeanboehm]

Classic Gifts for Family

Why is it that it’s the hardest to shop for the people the closest to you?

I think it’s because we want it to be something special that they will treasure for years to come. Nothing is more classic than Ralph Lauren. It’s truly iconic and a universally beloved brand.

This Christmas {as always}, I’m heading home to Texas to spend it with my family and I already know exactly what I will be getting for them. For example, I know my cousins will flip over this candle {shh don’t tell!}. Candles are always a hit, but there’s something extra special about this one. It’s classic beauty will fit in every home and I can’t wait to cozy up with my family and enjoy it.

Whether you’re looking for something big or small, Ralph Lauren has something for every budget! Nothing says classic and timeless quite like Ralph. Here are some of my other absolute favorites for family members.

Polo Ralph Lauren Slipper Heaven

If these aren't the dream slippers, I don't know what are? They are equal parts adorable and comfortable.

$110

Ralph Lauren Home Cozy Up

I love this blanket as a gift because it's perfect for both outdoors and indoors. It's an easy way to stay warm all season long.

$115

Ralph Lauren Home Unique Find

I love how special and out of the ordinary this trinket is. It's such a cool gift to present to anyone.

$95

Ralph Lauren Home Sipping on Holiday Spirit

The perfect little something to show someone you care. Everyone LOVES a mug, you can never go wrong!

$20

Ralph Lauren Home Fill for Four!

I am loving all of these gift sets. A great addition to anyone's kitchen.

$125

Ralph Lauren Home Perfect Pitcher

This gift will blow the host away. It's so classically beautiful.

$100

Ralph Lauren Home Cool Coffee Table

Nothing cooler than a limited edition coffee table book. Anyone will be thrilled to have this in their home.

$200

Ralph Lauren Home Can't Go Wrong with a Candle

Who doesn't love a candle?! I really like how the deep green color mirrors the Christmas tree.

$48

Ralph Lauren Home Special Delivery

This duo is sure to please! Perfect for those cold December mornings.

$32

Ralph Lauren Home Luxurious Leather

A little taste of luxury with this beautiful and classic set of coasters.

$95

Ralph Lauren Home Picture Perfect

Framed photos are one of the most sentimental gifts. Do it in style!

$195

Ralph Lauren Home Classic Candle

Red just feels like the festive color of all. Such a simple, sweet token of appreciation.

$48

Ralph Lauren Home The Sweetest of Snuggles

If you're looking for a statement gift for someone, look no further. This is a beautiful staple piece someone with treasure forever.

$595

Ralph Lauren Home Sweet Set

Any espresso lover will freak over this. It's simply adorable.

$80

Ralph Lauren Home Perfectly Packaged

I love how this candle is all ready to go! It's in the cutest box ever.

$75

Ralph Lauren Home Dessert Please!

Perfect to pair with a set of mugs or on their own.

$125

Polo Ralph Lauren An Elevated Essential

Wallets are a great gift because everyone needs one, but not everyone treats themselves to one that's quality. This wallet is not only beautifully crafted, but screams effortless style.

$198

Polo Ralph Lauren Classic Never Goes Out of Style

A classic beanie that the recipient will be able to wear year after year. The logo adds something extra special to this simple style.

$58

Lauren Ralph Lauren Nice Neutrals

I love how this scarf can go with practically any outfit. It's equal parts stylish and practical.

$45

Lauren Ralph Lauren Yes Yes Pom-Pom

This style is perfect for someone who keeps it simple, but wants to add a little something extra.

$45

A special thank you to Ralph Lauren for partnering on this gift guide.

Classic Gifts for Family published first on https://lenacharms.weebly.com/

[leonardsnartwrites]

Mick's fear of giant toads is due to having to hunt them as pests as a kid. Except the "giant toads" his mom would send him after were actually dragons and Mick is, unbenowst to himself, one of the foremost ex dragon hunters in his area. Coldwave. :)

His teachers had always said hewas too smart for his own good. In any other situation, they would have praisedhim, called him gifted, and boasted about him to other teachers. They never didthat with Leo, Leo who was smart in ways teachers didn’t approve of. He foundthe answers to tests and they suspected—but never determined—that he wasselling answers to other kids. He was smart enough to slip past the teachersand off school grounds. He was quick enough to twist a situation into somethingthat helped him come out ahead.

They didn’t talk about thebruises that littered pale skin or when he wore the same clothes three days ina row.

They didn’t talk about the deadmother or the drunk father or the too-young step mother with her rounded belly.

They didn’t talk about it, butno one was surprised when the baby was born and that new wife left them allbehind. She saved herself, they’d saywith looks, but never thought about the children she’d damned when she leftthem in her rearview.

No one was surprised whenLeonard and little Lisa disappeared two months later. Lewis Snart raged,calling on whatever old friends he still had from the police force, but itturned on his head. Suspicious eyes turned towards the dirty cop turned drunkand thoughts of runaways turned into accusations of murder.

They found Lewis guilty ofmurder without either body ever being found.

No one cried when he died inprison a year later, but it would be over a decade before Leonard found out hisfather had died with a shiv buried in his chest.

Lisa looked up at him when Agnitold them in his low, gravelly voice. Her eyebrows dipped downwards, confused,because Len had told her the stories of why he stole her away from theirfather, but she had no memories of him. All she’d ever known were the scars onher brother’s body and the way he sometimes couldn’t stand to be touched.“Lenny?”

He dropped a hand onto hershoulder and squeezed. “It’s okay,” he told her and turned blue eyes to thegolden, reptilian ones of the dragon bent in front of them. “We’re safe.”

Lewis Snart hadn’t been theirfather in years.

They were dragon-kind now.

 When he left the house, it waswith Lisa—tiny, baby Lisa that couldn’t grow up to know the fear their fatherinstilled—strapped to his chest. His school bag was heavy on his back, booksleft behind in a desk he’d never go back to and filled to the brim with as manysupplies as he could fit. He took the diapers and the formula and everything hethought she might need, but packed nothing for himself. No clothes. No food.

He kissed her head as they hidin the back of a bus he’d snuck them onto and promised they’d be okay. Him,barely thirteen. Her, barely old enough to hold her own head up. She was hismore than she’d ever been Lewis’.

People barely looked at them ashe weaved through the crowds until city gave way to town and, then, toisolation.

“I don’t know where we’regoing,” he admitted to her one night after they’d managed to get through thecluster of businesses Keystone called a town. He’d hoped for something better,a motel or a car he could slip into for the night, but they’d ventured too farfrom civilization by the time he realized his legs couldn’t carry them anyfurther.

He held her tight against himand wrapped her in the warm jacket instead of himself. Too cold for a baby. Sheneeded it more than he did, but his teeth still chattered as he tried to sleep.Half-frozen bark cut through the thin shirt, stabbing into his back, and heshifted again.

Whispered an old song his momused to sing to him. It wasn’t Hebrew and it wasn’t Amharic, but it sparked awarmth in his chest. Happy memories calmed him as the song kept Lisa safelyasleep and he pretended it would be enough to keep them both from freezing todeath.

He drifted off, wondering allthe while if it would be the last time he did, and woke up to warmth andscales.

His brain, usually so sharp,was sluggish as he realized he was staring at a dragon. His mother’s oldstories came to mind, fairy tales turned real, and he thought he might still bedreaming.

“Who taught you that song,child?” came the voice, though the dragon’s mouth barely moved. He felt it vibratethrough his chest as much as it sounded in his head, startling and melodic atthe same time. It made Lisa stir in his arms, fussing until she calmed again.

“My mother,” he told the dragonand pretended his voice didn’t shake. “Hanna Hashim.” Not Snart, but her maidenname, the one she used to say she’d wanted him to have.

“Where is she?”

“She died,” he whispered as hiseyes dropped away from golden ones to look at Lisa instead. “Cancer.”

A deep rumble came that soundedlike the dragon was mourning. A snout touched his shoulder. “She wasdragon-kind.”

In a way, Leonard had knownthat. His mother’s stories had been shaped around dragons their family hadserved for centuries, spoke of her heartbreak when she left it all behind, butshe’d thought she’d found love with Lewis.

“The dragons hadn’t trustedhim,” she admitted once and sounded like she was angry with herself for notlistening to them. “Always trust the judgement of dragons, ye’inē t’afach’i. They can see into your soul.”

He trusted them. He put histrust into beings that shouldn’t have existed, simply because he still trustedhis mother. Stories came, memories shared through familial bonds the dragonshad formed with his mother’s bloodline centuries ago. He saw her smile andheard the laugh whose memory had been lost to time.

He stayed.

They stayed.

The dragons took them in, smallas the clan was and damaged as Leonard was, and gave them a home in the deepestpart of the Keystone woods. Trees gave way to magic and pocket dimensions withtheir open fields and winding rivers.

Leonard grew, slipping betweentrees like a snake.

Lisa grew, sometimes a littlemore dragon than human, and greedy eyes staring at the shimmering gold of thedragons’ hoards.

Leonard stole her trinkets,would have stolen her the world if he could.

They spoke the dragons’language as they got older, ancient phrases bleeding into their English untilthey weren’t sure they could communicate with the human world anymore. Notwithout risk. Not without giving it away.

Still, Leonard snuck away fromthe safety of their home to watch the humans. There was a family he liked toobserve, two parents moving with a comfortable harmony his parents had neverhad. A gaggle of children running around the legs of their eldest brother. Theeldest watched them with a fond exasperation as fingers played withfire-makers.

The fire-makers—lighters, he reminded himself—made theboy’s parents look uneasy, but Leonard admired the awe the teen gave the flame.Dragon-kind as he was, he’d always leaned more towards the cooler temperaturesand the cold chill of the river’s water. The boy felt like dragon-kind, butdifferent. Something twisted in his chest while Leonard watched him, an anxiousexcitement sparking up every time the boy’s eyes seemed to drift over Leonard’shiding place.

Agni—the only father Lisa hadever known and the only one Leonard ever truly loved—warned him away from theboy, but he went back anyway. He trusted the dragons, but he also had to trusthimself and something about the boy with his broad shoulders and firm set ofhis jaw drew Leonard in. A dragon to a flame, he thought wryly.

  Then, the boy followed himback.

  He shouldn’t have been able todo it. Leonard was slippery and he knew the woods like they knew him. Thenymphs in the trees didn’t like him,but they respected dragon-kind and they should have warned him that the boy hadcaught on enough to follow him.

They didn’t and the boy slippedpast the wards and into dragon territory with steps that shouldn’t have been soquiet when one looked at his heavy boots.

A hand fell on his shoulder andspun him around until Leonard’s back hit a tree. “The hell is this?” the boyasked, voice dripping in a Keystone accent that woke up the Central one Leonardhad spent years trying to shake.

“Private,” he drawled andpretended that his heart wasn’t pounding in his chest. “You’re not supposed tobe here.”

“You’ve been stalking me foryears,” the boy shot back.

Leonard went stiff as his eyeswent wide. He knew. He knew. “How?”he asked instead of answering.

One shoulder lifted up in ashrug. “Felt you,” the boy replied, but even he sounded like he didn’tunderstand.

Leonard opened his mouth to saysomething, but was cut off by the Agni’s roar. No fire came—Leonard suspectedthe boy would have been distracted if it had—but they both went stiff. Theboy’s arms dropped as Agni came barreling into the clearing with his wingsspread wide and sparks crackling at his jaw.

“Step away from him, hunter,”Agni warned. He didn’t look deterred when the boy looked back at him,bewildered.

“That’s a…” The boy trailed offand Leonard opened his mouth to finish the sentence. He didn’t have to. Theword dragon got swallowed by theboy’s startled laugh. “The giant toads talk?!”

Agni faltered, insulted.

Leonard started laughing.

  “I’m a what?” Mick—it was nice to finally put a name to the face—sputteredwhen Leonard’s laughter died down and Agni had identified him as a dragonhunter. Leonard stiffened at the term, protectiveness rising up in him, butMick seemed too clueless to be a threat.

Hell, he’d called dragons gianttoads. How dangerous could he be?

But Leonard had heard thestories of the dragon hunters, listened to the same stories a distrusting Agniwas telling Mick. Generations of hunters, born with magic in their blood, thatwere drawn to dragons. Centuries ago, they’d hunted them to near-extinction. Itwas why dragons had found the need to tie themselves to humans, hoping to builda defense and offer a protection to the ones that cared for them.

It was as much give and take asanything Leonard had ever known, a natural balance that had felt right thesecond the clan welcomed him and Lisa into their home. It hadn’t mattered thatLisa wasn’t bound to them by blood the way Leonard was. Her name and herconnection to Leonard had been enough as she was raised under the guidance ofLeonard’s hands and dragons’ leathery wings.

Leonard and Lisa Snart had dieda long time ago, their past lost and buried in the empty caskets Central Cityhad buried. They had taken his mother’s name instead and felt an echo of her asshe welcomed Lisa into her family.

But Mick was new. Mick was anunfamiliar, because for as much as Leonard had watched him over the years, hedidn’t know him. His gut twisted at the sight of Mick caged in by Agni’s claws,but he didn’t try to get Mick free. Mick didn’t even try to free himself.

“You were ruining the crops,”Mick argued. “I wouldn’t have been going after anything if you weren’t messingwith them.”

“Our humans need sustenance,”Agni replied without a single apologetic tone. The younger dragons—smaller andless obvious than Agni’s huge stature—had an easier time slipping through togather food. It hadn’t solely fed Leonard and Lisa, but the bulk of it had goneto them as the dragons’ diets focused more on the magical food their pocketdimension offered.

But humans needed human food.

“How many of them are you?”Mick asked as wide eyes turned to Leonard.

“Two,” he answered before Agnicould tell him not to. “You can let him go. He’s not a threat.”

“He’s a hunter.”

“He likes fire,” he countered,because they both knew hunters had a blood-born hatred of the flame. “I don’tthink he’s like the others.”

“You’d risk Lisa on ananomaly?”

“I never said I was taking himto Lisa,” Leonard shot back. “But you took her in without the blood bond,because you trusted your gut. Trust mine.”

“You don’t trust the dragons?”

“You know I do,” he snapped. “Itrust myself too.”

“Leonard-”

“Imenenyi,” he told him in his mother’s tongue. “Trust me, Agni.”

Agni scowled back at him,barking words in the dragons’ language that Leonard shot back in. Back andforth, they argued as Mick watched them with wide eyes. Angry, reptilian eyesmet resolute blue. Sharp tongues. Barbed words. Warnings.

“Look,” Mick cut in, squirmingunder the restraint of Agni’s claws, “my ma’s gonna be pissed if I’m late todinner. Can we just shelve the whole thing for later?” He jerked his headtowards Leonard. “He stalks me every day, anyway. Not like I’m gonnadisappear.”

Leonard flushed. “It’s notevery day,” he muttered under his breath, but it fell on deaf ears. “He has afamily too,” he reminded Agni as Mick froze. “He won’t risk them.”

“You’re threatening them now?”Mick snapped.

“Warning,” Leonard corrected.“He doesn’t hurt my family, there’s no retribution against his. Deal?”

Mick glared back at him,fingers twitching so much his hands were almost going into spasms. He curledthem into fists instead, arms shaking all the way to his shoulders. “You gonear them, I’ll burn you alive.”

“Somehow, I don’t think firewould do much to them,” he said flippantly, but his eyes stayed serious as helooked back at Agni. “I’ll take him home.”

Agni growled his name, deep andlow, without ever opening his mouth, but Leonard took the warning tone for whatit was. The dragon didn’t like it, didn’t trust a hunter near his children orin his territory, but Leonard had always just been a hair too free for him. Hefought just a little too hard against customs, fighting back like he’d neverbeen able to fight against Lewis Snart.

Leonard Snart had been a child.

Leonard Hashim was dragon-kindand too stubborn for his own good.

  He took Mick out of the pocketdimension and back to his farm without a word. They didn’t touch. They didn’tso much as look at each other, eyes set straight ahead. Mick stumbled overterrain Leonard practically floated over and Leonard spared a second to glareat the nymphs that hadn’t warned him about Mick in the first place.

Magic being or not, he wouldhave appreciated a heads up.

He stopped at the edge of theproperty, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his coat as he stared at thehouse. “You’re late,” he told him and turned his eyes towards the setting sun.“Your mother will be looking for you.”

“What are you?”

“Human.”

“The dragons-”

“-are family. You heard thestories,” he told him. “They won’t hurt yours if you don’t hurt theirs.”

“I don’t want anything to dowith that crap,” Mick hissed at him. “I thought they were toads eating our damncorn.”

Despite himself, Leonard smiledand looked towards Mick. “The fledgings’ eyes are usually too big for theirstomach.” Especially considering they didn’t even eat the corn, justoverestimated how much a human stomach could handle.

“My siblings?”

“I told you,” he said again,“leave mine alone and yours will be fine.” He settled Mick with a serious look.“I don’t hurt kids.”

“You have a sister, right?That’s what the dragon was saying?” Mick checked, but he didn’t wait for ananswer before he nodded to himself. “I won’t get in the way.”

“Neither will we,” he promised.“We’re not Fae, but we keep our word.”

“I don’t even want to know,”Mick muttered to himself and started the trek back towards the house.

“Mick?”

He paused and glanced back.“What?”

Leonard lifted the other boy’slighter from his pocket, flaunting his prize. “I’m keeping this,” he told himas Mick sputtered. “It’s too dry out here. You play with this, a lot of peopleare going to get hurt.”

Mick stilled, his face a shadepaler than it was before. “What? You’re a seer now too?”

“I grew up with dragons,” hetold him flatly. “I know fire. But if you want this back…”

Mick reached out for thelighter at the same time Leonard offered it, but he hesitated and dropped hishand. “I want it back,” he said instead, “you got that?”

Leonard hummed softly andslipped the lighter back into his pocket. “After it rains,” he said, “I’llbring it back.”

“Leave the dragons at home.”

Leonard smiled at him, more ofa smirk than anything, and disappeared back into the trees.

  He came back after a stormripped through Keystone. The dragons stayed behind, warm and dry in the safetyof their realm while Lisa and him moved back towards the human world. He’dmeant to leave her at home, but she begged, pleading for human children to playwith, and he relented.

She clung to his hand as theybroke through the clearing and onto the Rory’s land. They hesitated at theborder, fingers trailing over wards laid centuries before, and stepped over.The wards sparked, a warning if they meant to bring harm, but Lisa’s intentionswere as pure as any five-year-old’s and he only meant to return the lighter.

Mick was waiting for him, satup on the wheel of a tractor. He hopped down when he saw them, hand alreadyheld out. “Give it back.”

“It’s only been a week,”Leonard chided, teasing just a little bit as he handed it back. “One wrong movebefore and your whole house would have gone up.”

Something in Mick’s eyessparked, an aching want to see a fire that big, but it got drowned out by anausea, because his house burning meant his family burning. He swallowed it allback and looked at Lisa. “Why’d you bring her?”

Lisa looked up at him, one handclutching Leonard’s while the other played with the gold chain around her neck.It matched the shining studs in her ears. “Can I play?” she asked, lookingbetween him and Mick before her eyes drifted towards where the younger childrenwere playing tag.

“She doesn’t know many humans,”Leonard admitted after Mick had waved her along and yelled to his siblings thatshe was a friend’s sister.

“Whatever,” Mick huffed andturned his focus to the lighter.

They sat there for hours, onestaring at a flame while the other watched children play. Mick’s parents cameout once, accepting stories about a kid Mick knew from a stint in juvie, thoughhis mother eyed Leonard warily. She knew, he thought as she glanced down at hisboots that were made of a leather a cow didn’t give.

“He’s not like the others,” shetold him at one point after she’d sent Mick inside to get the kids washed upfor dinner.

“I didn’t think he was,” he repliedcarefully.

“We just want to live here,”she continued. “The wars ended a long time ago. My children are no danger toyours.”

“Likewise,” he told her, promiseheavy on his tongue.

She gave him a smile and toldhim to join them for dinner.

  He went back.

They went back.

He brought Mick across therealms on occasion, working the other boy into the scenery until the fledgingsincluded him in their games and the elders barely batted an eye. Agni acceptedhim with a grumbling reluctance and never included him as dragon-kind, but hedid gift Mick with a spelled rock that would burst into controlled burns.

���It was meant to be a boobytrap,” Agni admitted to Leonard once while they lounged on a big rock by thewater. “It never worked quite right.”

“You gave him a broken firestarter?”

“The magic would only respondto humans,” he explained. “It was of no use to dragons in the war.”

“But Mick…”

“Is not like the others,” Agniadmitted softly. “I found it fitting.”

Leonard hummed and wondered howthe old dragon would react when he found out Leonard intended to take Mick ashis mate.

(It ended up involving a lot ofgrumbling and a very confused Mick who hadn’t even known Leonard was interestedin the first place.)

[callmessam-blog]

Let’s Keep It A Secret

A/n: I never thought I’d write for GD, but I did. Anyway here you go. :)

It’s not that you don’t want Jiyong to know.

The two of you have been going out for over a year, reaching two in a couple of months, and you didn’t have to feel embarrassed about liking him too much. But you are.

Because you really, really like him. Probably more than he thinks you do.

You know that it makes him happy whenever you tell him that you love him. The flicker of light in his eyes always burns each time he looks at you, and your heart throbs so fast it feels like it’s going to burst into a thousand pieces.

Still, you cannot bring yourself to tell him what’s inside that box you are keeping underneath a thick pile of sweaters in your drawer, afraid that once he finds out he will change his thoughts about you.

The inevitable guilt spreads across you like flame as you notice him stealing quick glances on the direction of your drawer. He must have known something’s in there. How—you don’t dare ask. It will only blow your cover.

You flatten your palms side of his cheeks, raise your body a little from his lap where you are sitting, and call him softly, “Jiyong.”

He looks back at you with a tiny smile, his hands finding their way around you. His fingers fumble with the back of your shirt. And then he speaks your name with a hoarse voice, still sore from performing for two consecutive nights and practicing until late last night.

You feel him shift under you and pull his body up so he is leaning better on the wall behind him. “Is your back still hurting?” You ask anxiously as you are reminded that apart from his throat, his back was also hurting yesterday.

But that also did not stop him earlier from pulling you on his lap while he sat on your bed.

“It just doesn’t feel right when you’re that far,” he rationalized.

“I’m barely a foot away,” you argued, cupping his chin and pressing your thumbs against his skin.

He let out a groan. “Careful. You know you’re stronger than me.”

“Well someone has to be between us,” you said, laughing.

He kissed you then, dotted his lip against yours again and again. He liked the sound of your laughter interrupted by his kisses.

“Not anymore,” he replies. The smile on his lips widens. “I feel ten times better now that I’m here.”

“Aish,” you grumble, slapping his chest lightly.

“It’s true,” he says as he run his palms to each side of your waist and draw free forms through the turquoise fabric keeping his skin away from yours. “You’re my medicine.”

How he can act so cool in front of hundreds to thousands of people and yet so silly right here with you never fails to amaze you. Then again, his fans know the kind of person he is. How he loves his friends and how soft-hearted he is. These are just few of the reasons why you like him so much, and they’re always enough for you to melt into a pool of mess, succumbing to his words and stare.

“Fine. But you do know medicines taste bitter, right?” You asked.

He laughs, throwing his head back. “They are. As for you, I think I need a taste or few to confirm, because as far as I can remember you taste sweet,” he says.

You can’t help the color spreading on your cheeks, and he enjoys the show, smiling widely at his effect on you. You tuck your face in the junction of his neck and shoulder.

“Come on, give me a kiss,” he says.

“No,” you shake your head.

He laughs again, and this time now that your body is pressed against his, you can feel his body vibrating with each sound he makes. His hands reach for your back and he slips them under your shirt, rubbing your skin teasingly.

You squirm with his touch, but refuse to look back at him, certain that you’re even redder now.

“Should I go now?”

“What?” You bolt upright, surprised. But it’s a trap for he kisses you the moment he catches you off-guard.

“Yep. You taste sweet,” he says, smirking at your narrowed eyes.

“Tch,” you put your hands on his cheeks. The feeling of the minute hairs growing on his chin tickles the base of your palm. Seeing once again the small nick a few centimetres beside his lips, you press your thumb on it.

The door creaked open and footsteps reached you before you could turn around. A pair of hands encircled around you; then came next was a kiss on your cheek. You turned around to Jiyong and pulled off his pink cap and sunglasses.

But what caught your eyes instantly was that centimetre wide cut above his chin. “Jiyong, what happened?” You asked, pointing at it.

“To show how excited I was to come here,” he replied, grinning. Upon realizing the frown on your face, he explained. “I woke up late so I was in a rush. By the time I was going to shave, the alarm came off. I just didn’t want to be late for today.”

“But we’re not going anywhere.”

“I know. I just really missed you.”

“Stupid,” you flicked his forehead.

“For you. Also, I remember you saying that I look cooler with a little bit of this here—” he pointed at his growing beard, “so they’ll stay right here until I have to cut them off.”

“Well I thought you fought with someone and you lost. You’ll lose so you have to bring me or Seungri, okay?”

“Be careful next time,” you say.

“Mhmm,” he nods. “When are you going to tell me?”

“About what?”

He tilts his head to the direction of your drawer. “What’s inside that box? There’s a password so I couldn’t open it.”

Your eyes widen. “When did—”

“When you went to take a shower,” he says. “You were taking so long and I was bored. So I looked around.”

“Uh, there’s nothing there. It was just a gift and I didn’t have anything to put inside so I kept it there,” you say.

His eyes flicker with mischief. “Except I shook it and there was definitely something in it. Why won’t you tell me?”

“Please don’t ask me. Hm?” You kiss him on his left cheek, and when he shakes his head you kiss him again on his right cheek.

“Nope, you’re not getting away with this. Let’s open that box, okay?” He holds your wrists.

Try hard as you can, you beg him with your eyes. But he stays resistant. “Alright,” you say, jutting your bottom lip out. “Only because I don’t want you to think that I’m cheating on you or fight with you because of it.”

You lift yourself off of him, but just before you can fully get on your feet he pulls you by the hand and kisses you on your lips.

“I love you,” Jiyong says with a fervent gaze.

“Thank you,” you reply, making him laugh and fall back on your bed.

Walking towards your drawer, digging through your sweaters and picking up your box, you can feel his eyes on you. You swallow the lump on your throat before turning around and walking back to him.

He loves you, he loves you, you keep on telling yourself as you make your way to him.

“Promise me you won’t get mad or shocked or feel like dumping me,” you tell him once you are seated across him, the wooden rectangular box in between the two of you.

“I won’t,” he raises his arm.

Taking in a deep breath, you scroll the numbers with your thumb until they make up the pin you used to lock the box. Something clicks inside. Then, it’s open and for Jiyong to see its contents.

You push it gently towards him. A complete surprise registers on his face before he picks up the first and largest item inside. A mobile phone.

“Your birthday is the password,” you tell him, avoiding his eyes.

He keys in the date. “It’s me. In my pyjamas?” He asks, seeing the wallpaper. He was staring at the window, with a phone against his ear. “This was at our room in Osaka.”

You nod. “You were talking to Daesung at that time. We couldn’t go out because of the snow. It was our first trip at a foreign country and you felt bad that we had to cancel our plan for the day, but I liked staying with you at our room. It was cosy and I got you. It was perfect. Plus you look funny in that red and yellow striped pyjamas.”

He doesn’t say anything, but a small smile lingers in his lips. His thumb moves across the screen, pressing at its apps. And you just wait until he sees all of them—the photos, videos, and songs.

Your hands cover your face when he plays a video. You can hear his voice, talking to his fans and them shouting. It was during his concert, when he was still pursuing you to date him.

“I thought you didn’t go...?” He glances at you and chuckles when he sees you covering your face.

“I lied. I went there. I just didn’t want you to know.”

“Why?”

“You’re G-Dragon and I didn’t want you to think that you’re getting me easily because you’re that, even if I was already starting to like you. But of course I was wrong to think that way,” you tell him the truth.

“So you were spying on me,” he says.

“Kind of?” You bite the hem of you lip, anxious of what he is thinking at this moment.

“Come here.”

He takes your hand and you crawl towards him. He puts an arm around you while you lean on his right thigh.

“From what I can see, it will take me all afternoon to watch all of these videos. And there are songs, too,” he says, switching from one app to another.

“Yes,” you giggle. “Every Big Bang song and every song you are featured. Even the latest ones, I keep them in here and listen to them when I miss you.”

“You really like me that much, huh?” He rubs the side of your waist.

“A lot,” you confess. “I miss you easily.”

“And here people say I like you more than you like me,” he chuckles, scrolling at the music playlist.

“Tch. They don’t know me very well then,” you sit up straight and look at him. “You know now they were misinformed, right? I’m not very good at expressing how I feel but you know me.”

“I don’t know. I have to see proofs,” Jiyong says, teasing you.

Flustered, you raise the box and turn it over. All of its contents fall on your bed, every paper and trinkets you keep. “Here. Look at these photos. It’s all you. Some of them, I’m with you. These small notes and even the cards from the flowers you sent. I even had to fight Daesung to get this stolen photo of you from Seunghyun. There’s a lot. I know it makes me look like a stalker, but see—”

You’re cut off when he cups your chin and kisses you, not letting you breathe and drowning you in the feeling of his lips. You let go of the small card you’re holding.

“I was kidding,” he says, keeping a small gap between your faces. “I love you.”

“You’re not . . . you’re not breaking up with me?”

“Nope. Never.”

“Well not right now, but I get the point,” you say, staring at his lips stretch into a smile that always, always makes your heart beat faster. And then, you tell him the words you’re never afraid to say in front of him.

{fin

[wearenotafraid-blog1]

The Body and Soul Experience – A festival for then and now

Awh, the Irish music and arts festival. What can one say, other than, we are privileged to have them. A collective of go-getters, doers and secret fairies, Body and Soul is one that will tempt your soul, open up your chakras, and make you want to fulfill your dreams. As I grow with age and wisdom, I crave different things from a festival. Where I am at now is the smooth running of festivals: step up Body and Soul. It is a beautiful memoir of human existence. Every nuck, every cranny, provokes your thoughts, welcomes you in, and offers you eternity (well, for the weekend anyway!).

As a music put-togetherer (i.e. writer), live performer and general maker, I have seen the festival from most of its angles. Such gatherings have been at the heart of my summers now for around 15 of my 31 years. From working on production teams, building with crew, playing many a stage, sneaking over (or under) the odd fence and once or twice paying for a full weekend pass, I have had the opportunity to truly get to know the festival. As I grow and as the festival scene here grows, I look forward to seeing the field turned into carnival and the mind turn wise every year. This year was/is no different.

We arrived on Friday evening. The car trip down was only an hour from home so we flew down the N3 with the festival glee blinding to other drivers. The usual “spot the festivalites” (cars loaded with people and stuff) was played. With little traffic, we were in the camp site feeling the light by about 5pm. The car was the choice of bed. A Suzuki Wagon Type R, the squarest car a man ever did see!! I had the job of folding in all the seats to make our make shift 4 by 4 foot double bed. A touch of colour, a few cushions and a trusty light and we were home for the weekend. The performer campsite being our new address.

On entry, we had a small wander. Everything was running flawlessly so we were taking our time and joining in on the chilled environment that we couldn’t but encompass. The Sanctuary. Compost toilets. Wow! The space was tucked away so peacefully. Healers, dealers, and wheelers all lined up. Joking!! It was an array of beautiful tents, art work, a giant cuddly concrete sculpture, and a lovely forest area for a sneaky wee over the weekend ( a sustainable wee at that!!). A multi-coloured  circular sand granule live picture rested in the centre of this nurturing space. Every granule had its own mind. Its energy is still with me. Installation-wise, this felt pure and natural to me and I think this is part of the beauty of Body and Soul Each piece/space has its own peace and this will be different for everyone.  The Sanctuary was a safe haven for the next 3 days, with well and being at the core of its structure.

On the road again, we headed towards The Food Board (unknowingly). We were blessed on entry with the smells. A magic sandwich was sought, bought and very much appreciated. The space itself was just like a regular weekend food market, cooler obviously, but what got me was how it felt like it was always there and not just constructed for the purpose of the festival.

As we took ourselves away we mingled through the forest and floated through the colours above us. The tress and birds sang with each step. Trinkets. Wooden hexagons. Paper mache octopuses. An invigorating stringed installation hanging high in the wild. The glass balls. The forest dance floor. We stumbled across Reckless in Love by evening and revisited it at night. The light shows were out of this world. When I think of it today, writing this, they were some of the coolest I have seen at an Irish festival. The projector screens star-studded statute of life, shone so bright over our dreamy moving heads. The stage, made from more beautiful wood, stood still. Able for the banging beats, it created a state of stable amongst the mayhem.

Wood. The wood. I love the wood (NOT TO BE TAKEN WOODINGLY!!!!!). The main stage was other worldly and this is no exaggeration. As a performer and an acoustics addict, to play upon such a monument of nature would be enlightening. Anyone I seen playing it over the weekend looked totally happy and joyous. One thing I do think about at festivals, is how much of this stuff stays and how much is simply ripped down. I was informed that this master of craftsmanship, by Christie Collard and friends, will remain on the Body and Soul home site. Thankfully!

The walled garden was a tremendous find. Funnily enough, it has the sense of a walled enclosed garden, but without the closed and the walls. It was entered by a normal enough size door at one side and this was the mystical wonderland feeling of it. OOOAAHHH, what is through here? Stages, food, water features and the softest grass I have felt through my finger tips. We sat at one point and all I could think about was how soft it was. I wanted to lie flat on it, let my skin feel it, my head rest on it (and I was pretty sober and straight headed). It was perfect. Looked after.

The whole weekend was perfect. It seemed to fly by. My partner in crime and love was performing in The Bulmers Tent and the Library of Progress. Quite a few friends and fellow artists had slots here, too, so we popped in and out when we passed. One guy that stood out was Mango Dazler, a hip-hop/grime artist. He and his beats man rocked the tent, literally. They were so well synced that it was hard not to join in and be present with them. Fearless, they were.

We met people at every corner. People we saw regularly, people we don’t see enough, and people we will always remember. It was a community feeling for everyone I think, not just us.

What was really special about the weekend was I went with no expectation, no calendar, no times I had to be places. I (we) just wandered. If we ended up at something, we listened, took part, and moved on again. If I was tired, I went to bed. I had no need. It was simplistic. It was enough.

On the Sunday, we departed around 3pm. After 15 years of festivals you build up a book of tricks. This year the trick was to sleep rough for 2 nights and head to a spa for the third. A deep soak in a hydro pool. A sauna and a steam. An Epson salt foot bath. A good feed. A 6x 8 foot bed. A balcony. Cows outside. Swallows mingling. The best company. It was one great weekend.

Gentle. Warm. Creative. Motivated. In-love.

A Body and Soul Experience – for the then and now.

[tinypeckers]

The boy with the golden gun

Pairing(s): AHOT6 (JeremyxGeoffxJackxGavinxRyanxMichael)

Words: 5,580

AO3

Summary: The Fake AH Crew embark on their biggest heist yet: to take a crown fit for their criminal king.

A/N: So @forensicbec and I went to the Tower of London today and we saw & experienced some things that inspired this... so please enjoy.

“Geoff, why are we acting like tourists?” Jack asked. Geoff scoffed as they walked past what felt like the 100th suit of armour Jack had seen all day.

“Tourists? We’re not tourists,” Geoff’s eyes never left the display case.

“Really? Then why’s Jeremy wearing an ‘I heart London’ sweatshirt?” Jack gestured back to the man.

“He’s blending in,” Geoff said. It was Jack’s turn to scoff. She’d hardly say that Jeremy, with his bright hair and even brighter sweatshirt, was blending in. None of the crew were exactly nondescript today. Between Gavin’s golden sunglasses, Geoff’s ridiculous moustache, Michael’s diamond-encrusted phone that he wouldn’t look up from and Ryan’s blood-stained leather jacket they stuck out like sore thumbs. Even Jack herself drew attention in her bright Hawaiian shirt.

“What’s the point? We’re just walking around this dumb castle.” Jack folded her arms. Geoff swivelled around on the balls of his feet, grinning back at Jack.

“We’re on a heist!” Geoff clapped his hands together.

 “To steal what?” Jack couldn’t believe this. What was Geoff expecting to take out of here other than some cheaply made and overpriced souvenirs?

“The Crown Jewels.” Geoff acted as though he could see the words spelt in front of him, waving his hands through the air. Jack nearly choked.

“That’s not something you can just do, Geoff. It’s the middle of the day, this place is littered with security. You can’t just plop a crown on your head and stroll out. We don’t even have a plan!” Jack fought the urge to reach out and just slap him. It just wasn’t the time and place. Later, definitely later.

“I have a plan,” Geoff said. He shuffled forward with the crowd of actual tourists. He admired the different pieces of armour. If they had the manpower, he swore he’d take it all.

 Jack tripped over her own foot when Jeremy pushed up against her back. He leaned against her shoulder to peer into one of the display cases she’d been blocking.

“Jeremy, did you know of Geoff’s plan to steal the crown jewels?” Jack stared down at him.

“No? But sweet, I’m down for that,” Jeremy said.  Jack nudged Geoff’s arm.

“Clearly neither of you have been listening then, I’ve been going on about it for ages,” Geoff admired the chest plate in front of him.

“You haven’t said shit, Geoff. You got us up at some god-awful time this morning and dragged us here. If it was the crown jewels you wanted, you should have said and we could have planned.” Jack pinched the bridge of her nose. How did this man rule Los Santos and stay this care free?

“Don’t worry,” Geoff clasped Jack’s shoulders, “I. have. A. plan.”

 Shuffling a few cases behind, both Gavin and Michael were oblivious to the whole thing. Ryan had ditched them to lean against an empty wall and people watch instead.

“Michael,” Gavin slapped Michael’s shoulder, “look, Michael – it’s Jeremy-sized armour.” Michael made a noise somewhere in between a grunt and ‘sure’ but kept his eyes glued to his phone. Gavin huffed and glanced around the room. When he spotted Jeremy in the crowd, he waved him over. Jeremy bounded towards the pair, beaming up at Gavin.

“What? What’s up?” Jeremy asked. Gavin pointed to the case. There, standing beside a full-sized suit to make the size difference more apparent, was armour supposedly made for a dwarf. At least, that’s what the plaque said. It was so small it could fit a five-year-old boy and had a little dragon atop the helmet.

“It’s your size.” Gavin snickered.

“Aw,” Jeremy’s smile fell, “why you gotta do that to me Gavin?”

 Gavin barely managed to utter out the first word of his usual retort (“it’s because you’re short, Jeremy!”) before Geoff and Jack were beckoning them towards the next room. Gavin turned, locked eyes with Ryan, and nodded towards the pair. Ryan pushed himself up off of the wall and walked towards them. When he saw that they had to walk up the third flight of stairs that hour, he let out a deep sigh.

“Couldn’t they just install elevators?” Ryan stomped up each wooden step.

“Why, getting a little tired Rye-bread?” Michael nudged Ryan’s arm. Ryan growled back at him.

“Don’t worry Ryan, look – it’s your favourite things, weapons!” Jeremy grabbed Ryan’s hand and pulled him into the room. Ryan let his feet drag against the floor.

“My favourite things are torture devices,” Ryan said.

 Michael and Gavin stayed close behind. Michael placed his hand upon Ryan’s shoulder so that he didn’t disappear into the crowd.

“But look, this one’s a pistol from the seventies and it’s all gold and sparkly and it’s been used to murder someone!” Jeremy elbowed Ryan’s arm and wagged his eyebrows up and down.

“Wow,” Gavin breathed against the glass it was held behind. He reached up and caressed the screen. Jeremy had already dragged Ryan along, moving down the cases and gazing at all the other trinkets. He stopped and snorted at a full head helmet that had a beak-like shape to its mouth.

“Hey, Gavin – maybe your nose could fit in there, right bud?” Jeremy said.

“Sure, Jeremy.” Gavin’s eyes were fixated on that golden gun. He lifted his sunglasses to the top of his head so that he could bask in all of its glory.

 Up ahead, Jack was breathing down Geoff’s neck as he tried to look at all of the exhibits.

“If we were going to steal the crown jewels, why haven’t we done it yet?” Jack hounded.

“I told you,” Geoff stepped away from her, “we’re blending in.” Jack’s head fell back against her shoulders. She let out a long, guttural groan that drew the attention of quite a few actual tourists.

“Can’t we just get to the fun part, Mr-I-Have-A-Plan?” Jack slung her arm across Geoff’s shoulder, pouting up at him and fluttering her eyelashes in a way that she knew would melt his heart. Geoff tried to look anywhere but at her but he could spy her in the reflection of the exhibit cases.

“Fine, we’ll rush through the rest of this tower and just get on with it,” Geoff said. Under his breath he couldn’t help but add, “that’s not part of my plan though.” Jack pretended not to hear him.

 They waited at the bottom of the stairs that would lead them to the next floor. As everyone else started to climb, Michael now clinging to Geoff’s shoulder, Ryan came to a dead halt at the bottom of them. He glared at the spiralling staircase and crossed his arms over his chest.

“No,” he said. Jeremy laughed above him, offering his hand out.

“C’mon Ryan, we’re going to steal the Queen’s crown soon.” Jeremy wriggled his fingers to entice Ryan into coming with him. Ryan raised an eyebrow.

“For me?” He placed a hand upon his chest. Jeremy shook his head.

“I think it’s for Geoff.” Jeremy shrugged. Geoff took the nickname “kingpin” a little too seriously. Ryan suddenly lurched up the stairs.

“That’s my crown.” He shoved Jeremy aside and shouldered past the rest of the crew.

“Stick to the right, Ryan!” Jack called after him as he rushed past poor tourists.

“Fuck the rules,” Ryan said.

 At the top of the stairs Ryan pushed the palms of his hands deep into his knees. He heaved out each breath as he looked up at the display in front of him.

“That’s not a crown,” Ryan said. He almost toppled sideward as Jeremy elbowed him out of the way.

“No, that’s a dragon. A dragon made out of, oh my god, guns. It’s a gun-dragon. Geoff, fuck the crown I want the gun-dragon. This is so much cooler than some dusty old hat. Can we take this instead? Please, please Geoff, please?” Jeremy hopped from one foot to the next. He clasped his hands under his chin and made his eyes impossibly wide.

“What? No Jeremy. We’re getting my crown,” Geoff snapped. He smacked Jeremy on the back of the head, “never call it a dusty old hat ever again or I’ll make you clean for five hours every day.”

“Fine,” Jeremy pouted, “but we’re taking a selfie with it.”

 Jeremy bounded over to Michael, snatching the phone from his clawed grip. Before Michael could take it back Jeremy had closed the game he’d been playing and opened the man’s camera. He held the phone as high as his arm could take it which wasn’t quite high enough to fit the entire dragon in. Jack took it from him, raising it further and managing to get the whole display in. She handed the phone back to Jeremy so that he could see the picture. Jack had managed to get everyone in. She and the top of Jeremy’s head were at the very front of the frame. Michael was glaring over their shoulders and staring directly into the camera. Geoff had his back to them all as he looked up at the magnificent gun-dragon. Ryan was still slouched over and slightly blurred thanks to his laboured breathing.

“Where’s Gavin?” Jeremy squinted at the photo. He was nowhere to be seen.

 “I bet he’s already following the plan,” Geoff nodded. He started strolling further into the room.

“What plan? So far, all you’ve got is: go to the Tower of London, take the crown and go home.” Jack threw her arms up into the air. “Someone already succeeded in that.”

“No they didn’t, the crown jewels are still here dumb-dumb.” Geoff tapped Jack on her forehead.

“They got caught, dumb-dumb,” Jack smacked Geoff’s hand away, “and the king found it so funny he granted the man lands and shit.”

“How did you know that?” Geoff rubbed the tip of his finger.

“I’ve been reading the signs, Geoffrey. You know, leaning things.” Jack glared at her boss.

“Ah,” Geoff said, “you’ve been blending in.” He pat Jack’s shoulder.

“Honestly, if I could just unlock one of these cases, take a gun and shoot you I would,” Jack said.

 Michael, having lost his phone to Jeremy and his dragon-obsession, stood and watched the pair bicker back and forth. He tried to hide his smile behind his hand but the glee reached his eyes and made it clear how funny he thought this all was. He didn’t care for all of this old crap but he had to admit that having a crown, especially one stolen from Gavin-country, would be pretty cool.

“I’ll do it,” Ryan whispered into Michael’s ear.

“Do what?” Michael turned towards the other man but didn’t dare take his eyes from the arguing pair in front of him. Geoff was currently mansplaining to Jack how no, she couldn’t do that because that would compromise the whole heist and then what would they have? Nothing to show for themselves that’s what.

“Take a gun and shoot Geoff,” Ryan said. Michael turned away then, gaping up at him.

“What the fuck Ryan? He’s our boss!” Michael laid his hand across his chest.

“I want that crown,” Ryan shrugged.

 Michael shook his head. Jeremy had finally joined them. He looked lovingly down at Michael’s phone, flicking absent-mindedly through the pictures he’d just taken. Michael scoffed at him. He strode towards Jack and Geoff. Placing a hand on each of their shoulders Michael pushed the pair away from one another. They went quiet as he looked at them one-by-one.

“Mom, Dad – stop fighting,” Michael said. “Let’s just go and get us a crown, okay?” Michael nodded slowly. Geoff started to mimic him and, after a few long seconds, Jack begrudgingly copied him too. Michael led them towards the stairs that would take them down and, hopefully, out towards where the crown jewels were held.

 They fell into step behind rows and rows of tourists, both English and international alike. Michael held his head up high as they trudged down the stairs. Geoff was right behind him. He kept edging out away from the wall to try and overtake Michael and resume his rightful place at the head of his little pack. Michael, with the slyest of grins, kept inching out at the same time to keep Geoff from getting anywhere.

“These stairs are never ending,” Ryan fell down each step with a heavy thump. Jack was chewing holes into her bottom lip behind him. She kept clenching and unclenching her fingers. Her manicured nails left indents in her palms. With each step she couldn’t help but imagine a new scenario where the heist went wrong. They hadn’t bought anything more than a pistol each and, unless Geoff had an arsenal of weapons stuffed in his pants, they were unprepared. This was going to go horribly wrong, she knew it. Even if they succeeded, Jack was sure that when they were inevitably caught the Queen wasn’t going to laugh at them and grant them all lands and titles. In fact, Jack knew that she’d definitely not be amused.

 “Finally,” Ryan’s feet were happy to be back on flat ground. He glared over his shoulder at the stairs behind them and frightened a poor old lady who he just happened to make eye contact with. His happiness drained from him when he realised they had another room to trudge through. Geoff, still insisting that they at least try to blend in, stopped and stood at the occasional display. Jeremy skipped from one case to another, caressing the exhibits that were out for him to touch. He read every plaque and, with his newly acquired phone, took as many pictures as he could. He stopped just long enough beside a golden lion next to Jack to say,

“Aw, Gavin would like that.” Jack rolled her eyes but secretly, she agreed. If only Gavin was with them to admire it.

“What exactly is his role in the plan, anyway?” Jack linked her arm with Geoff’s and started to edge him closer to the exit. The sooner they failed this heist, the more time she had on their escape.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” Geoff said. Jack shook her head. They were doomed, oh so doomed.

 The final room led to one of the many gift shops the Tower of London had.

“Are you kidding me?” Geoff sighed. “This is just shameful.” The other gift shops he could deal with, sure, they were everywhere but at least you didn’t walk out into them. This was impossible to avoid. Ryan was attracted to a well they’d kept intact. He looked down it.

“If I have to climb anymore stairs, I’m throwing myself down this.” Ryan muttered mostly to himself. He skim-read one sentence of the plaque before realising he really didn’t care and pushed away from it to the follow the others.

“Oo, look – a chalice!” Michael held the cup up high and admired it. He turned it around in his hand, bumping it against Geoff’s knuckles, “cheers.” Geoff rolled his eyes.

“We don’t need any of this cheap crap, let’s go and get us a crown.”

 Geoff marched his crew past the two cashiers and out of the shop. Jeremy tried to stop at one of the small exhibits but Geoff kept going and he had no choice but to follow.

“Nope,” Ryan swivelled around and headed towards the well when he saw that to get out of the building he had to climb another flight of stairs. Jack caught him and dragged him back. “Fucking stairs,” Ryan said through gritted teeth. As they went through the doors to the outside, the entrance to their prize.

“The Crown Jewels,” Geoff said and this time when he gestured with his hands there really were words that appeared between them.

 Inside, despite being so close to what they wanted, Geoff made them admire the other items in the collection. When Jack questioned why they were stalling, Geoff kicked up a fuss and went on and on,

“Blending in – I know, I know.” Jack rolled her eyes. She wasn’t sarcastic for long. They passed through the hall showcasing the staffs used in each coronation and entered the room where they kept Queen Elizabeth II’s coronation cloak.

“I want it,” Jack pressed herself up against the glass. It was gorgeous, beautifully ornate and so over the top. It would weigh a ton but Jack would have gladly bore the weight,” please, Geoff, can I have it?” When Geoff shook his head and told her it wasn’t as important as his precious crown, Jack stomped her foot against the ground.

“You never let me have nice things. It’s always for you, all the jewellery and the money,” Jack said.

“I got you that cargo bob like a month ago,” Geoff said.

“I want the pretty cloak.” Jack pointed.

“Next time.” Geoff waved her away with his hand.

 He walked and left Jack to whimper over the exhibit. Jeremy took her hand and tugged gently.

“C’mon, like Geoff said we could get it next time,” Jeremy said.

“But I want it now,” Jack sighed.

“I know and you’d look gorgeous in it but, next time. Right now we’ve got to keep Ryan from punching a hole in the glass and stealing all the other monarch’s crowns.” Jeremy nodded in Ryan’s direction. He was gliding along a small conveyer belt that brought him by the coronation crowns of Kings and Queens past. He licked at his lips as he imagined each one perched upon his head. He was starting to freak the other tourists out as they stood beside him.

“I am the mad king,” he whispered over and over to himself. Geoff joined him on the belt and cupped his shoulder.

“Yeah you are buddy, yeah you are,” he said.

 The Queen’s coronation crown seemed to sing to them all as it sat perched in its little display. Jack was very away of all the beefeaters watching them. She swallowed as they approached. She could see the appeal, its deep purple colour and all of those sparkling jewels. It was theirs for the taking, all they needed to do was execute Geoff’s plan and maybe they could be royals. Ryan sucked in a deep breath as he circled around the case. He looked like a lion stalking its prey. Geoff hung back, merely admiring the beautiful jewel from afar. Jeremy stood with his mouth wide open. This beat a wad of money any day. Jeremy would give up all he’d earned to just touch it. He reached out, fingers twitching as he thought of how velvety soft it would be. It was time to take it. It was time to get what they’d come for.

 Except they never got the chance. Geoff leapt out of his skin as the speakers started to wail. The beefeaters around them began to close in around the crown. The door that should have been their exit started to disappear, replaced by a metal sheet.

“Fuck,” Geoff screeched, “run!” He yelled. He darted for the door and the rest of his crew bolted with him. Jeremy slid underneath because, well, why not? Jack yanked him up off of the floor and pulled him forward. They weren’t the only ones running for their lives. Terrified tourists tore through the rooms of the building in an effort to get away for the chaos. It wasn’t hard for them to “blend in, blend in, blend in!” even as Geoff yelled it over and over above the noise. They burst out of the building and infiltrated the crowds in the courtyard.

 In the light of day, there was nothing out of the ordinary. The Crown Jewels were closed, yes, but there were still tours going on and selfies being taken by the towers. It seemed, to Geoff at least, they were trying to just lock down the important places and not create a panic. Yet Geoff was barely breathing and his legs never stopped they just ran and ran and ran. His heart hammered against his ribcage so violently Geoff was worried it would start sprinting ahead of himself. Jack had grabbed his hand. She squeezed it, hard. In the second Geoff chanced to look back at her it ripped him apart. Her eyes were bulging out of her skull and she seemed to be having the same trouble breathing. Her other hand was practically ripping Jeremy’s hood from his sweatshirt as she pulled him along. When they got out, Geoff would have a lot of apologising to do.

 Ryan was right at their heels. Then suddenly he stopped and stumbled backwards. Tucked underneath some baboon sculptures sat a little ice cream stall, undisturbed by the chaos Ryan had just escaped. He waltzed right up to it and, with a handful of coins he’d fished from Gavin’s pocket upon landing in England, he bought himself an ice cream cone with a chocolate flake inside. He nodded to the sweet lady who’d served him. Ryan strolled to a bench and took a seat, relaxing against the wood. He propped his feet up across the seat to deter others from sitting beside him. For the first time since the morning, Ryan took a moment to just enjoy himself and bask in the glory that was the Tower of London.

 Geoff, Jack and Jeremy just kept on running. They got caught up in a crowd of people following an odd, short little man banging a drum and a man baring the English flag on a rather large pole. Jack kept Geoff from running any further as she kept her vice-like grip upon his hand. She shared a look with him and Geoff decided to follow her lead. She’d always known best and well, it was the closest they’d had to a plan all day.

“How did he know?” Geoff hissed to his two remaining companions.

“Well,” Jeremy re-adjusted his hood, “we weren’t exactly keeping it quiet.” Geoff sucked his teeth. He opened his mouth to say more but Jeremy held his finger to his lip, nodding to the man they’d followed as he started to talk.

 Geoff didn’t really follow the story as another actor in a ridiculous purple garb met with them right by the exit. He started spewing some crap about cannons and some other king and pirates? It didn’t really matter. Their exit was right there, ready for them to just walk through and leave. Geoff nudged Jack’s arm and nodded towards it. She nodded back. She looked calmer, better. Geoff just snorted as he introduced himself as Thomas Neville. What kind of a name was that? He startled for the second time that day when suddenly Jeremy screamed out with the crowd,

“Stand!” Geoff frowned down at him. The drum man seemed happy with this mob mentality and started to lead the crowd away. Geoff peeled away from them and strolled through the exit.

“Jeremy,” Jack called out, “c’mon.” She waved towards the exit.

“No, I want to know the rest of it – I want to know who’s going to get into the Tower of London, can’t I just meet you outside? I won’t be long, promise!” Jeremy pleaded. Jack shrugged. “Thanks Jack!”

 Leaning against the barrier keeping them from the Thames, Gavin stood waiting for them. He opened his arms wide for Geoff to walk into.

“Fuck,” Geoff spat onto the ground by Gavin’s feet, “fuck, fuck, fuck.” Geoff pounded the side of his thigh. Gavin withdrew his arms until they crossed against his chest.

“What’s got your knickers in a twist?” Gavin shuffled away from Geoff. Geoff started to pace back and forth the path. He halted as Jack stepped into his way. His head reeled backwards as the knuckles of her fist collided with his cheek. She hissed as she withdrew, shaking her hand back and forth.

“You never had a plan, did you?” Jack stepped into Geoff’s line of vision as he tried to look away.

“Not exactly… but we got out, didn’t we?” Geoff tried to smile at her. It didn’t quite reach one side of his mouth which was starting to sting quite a lot.

“Without a crown and without that gorgeous gown, thanks to you. Next time you want to plan an impromptu heist, pick a convenience store.” It was Jack’s turn to spit at the ground. Gavin gagged as it splattered onto his shoe.

 The three of them looked back at the exit when they heard a whirring noise approach. Ryan came rolling towards them. He was leaning back against the seat of a mobility scooter with his feet hanging over the handlebars and resting inside the cute little wire basket. He held a half-eaten ice cream cone in his hand. He twirled the treat around as his tongue daintily licked its edges. He rocked forward slightly as his scooter stopped.

“Ryan,” Geoff said, “Ryan, why do you have a mobility scooter?”

“Someone had to actually steal something, didn’t they?” Ryan took a nice, long lick of his ice cream.

“Well, actually,” Gavin started to say as he reached into his pocket.

 He didn’t quite get to finish his sentence as Michael strolled over to them holding some golden bags.

“There you guys are! Dude, shit got crazy in that gift shop. They started searching errbody, there was this loud alarm and everything. I had to get touched up by one o’ them porkeaters or whatever they’re called. It was gross.” Michael shivered at the end, the phantom touch of the greying old man still lingering on his skin. He regarded Ryan with a raised brow, “why’re you in a scooter? Did your brittle old man bones break on the stairs out?” He laughed as Ryan made a cheap swipe to his balls.

“I didn’t want to leave empty handed,” Ryan said. Michael pat his head.

“Aw, no crown for the big bad king?” Michael cooed. Ryan corrected him under his breath, “don’t worry, I got everybody gifts!” Michael raised his bags high up into the air.

 The group flocked towards him, Ryan rolling just that little bit closer. Michael reached inside, rustling a little at first just to rile them up. He pulled out his first item, an over-sized flask with a fancy royal coat of arms hand-etched into the side. He handed it to Geoff with a flourish and a tiny bow. Geoff scoffed and snatched it away, twisting it side to side. It was all right… wasn’t a crown though. Michael rustled the bag once more, shaking free a tin with a cute little sketch of the Tower of London on the side.

“Toffees, for the sweet tooth.” Michael dropped them into Ryan’s basket. Ryan sucked in a very large breath and vacuumed up what remained of his ice cream cone. He ignored everyone’s scrunched up expressions of disgust and Gavin’s delighted giggle at the little blob of white on the bottom of his lip. Ryan clapped the tin between his hands and wrestled the lid free. He sniffed at the toffees. Content, Ryan flashed Michael a thumbs up.

 Michael reached into the bag for the next gift. He almost lost them all to the river as somebody pushed into him from behind. The stranger gripped his shoulders and shook him side to side before revealing himself through his voice.

“Guys, guys – oh my god you’ll never guess who got through? It was the peasants! The peasants were the ones that succeeded in defeating the tower. Not Thomas Neville with his cannons and his pirates or that big welsh guy who threw stuff at us and man, he almost killed someone it was great, but no, not even him. This peasant woman just came in and like, fucking, she fucking beheaded someone!” Jeremy buzzed around the entire crew. His flapping arms almost blinded poor Ryan and his erratic feet stood on almost everybody’s shoes.

“Jeremy!” Michael clamped his hands on Jeremy’s arms and pressed them to his side. Jeremy’s tongue fell out as he panted in an attempt to catch the breath he’d wasted rambling away.

 Michael eased one hand away from Jeremy’s arm. He stared intently into Jeremy’s eyes as a warning to keep still. Jeremy watched him as Michael pulled something out of his golden bag. His little eyes lit up as Michael manoeuvred one of his arms and twisted his hand so that his palm went upwards. Michael plopped a small cannon into his hand.

“Oh man, just like Thomas Neville’s!” Jeremy beamed. Michael nodded, pressing his finger to Jeremy’s lips and pressing gently. Jeremy swallowed. Michael ruffled his hair and side-stepped him. Jeremy ran the cannon back and forth across his hand. He noticed it had a small hole and, after peering inside, discovered it was actually a sharpener. Jeremy’s lips silently mouthed ‘wow’ and he showed his new toy to Ryan. Ryan nodded and smiled in a way parents do after their child showed them a crap drawing but they have to pretend it’s great.

 Michael took Jack’s hand into his own and did the same as he did with Jeremy’s, twisting it over and slipping a pretty little box into her hand but not before he’d kissed her reddened knuckles.

“For the beautiful Queen,” Michael said. Jack popped the box open and gasped. Michael had given her such beautiful tudor-style earrings. They weren’t quite the coronation gown she deserved but she appreciated them anyway. She guided Michael’s face to hers and kissed his cheek.

“Now that’s a man who knows how to treat his woman,” Jack said.

“I stole you that cargo bob!” Geoff protested.

“Geoffrey, please, I didn’t steal these. I bought them with pow-nds,” Michael said. Geoff gargled some phlegm in his throat. He held the flask Michael had gotten him and dropped it off into the Thames. Michael watched it as it splashed and sunk into the water. “What the fuck, Geoff?”

“Next time, you steal it – like a real criminal.” Geoff folded his arms.

 Michael glared at him. He twisted away from Geoff and walked to Gavin instead.

“For my boi, I got you this.” Michael pulled out easily the biggest item he’d bought. It was a bow meant for children, made from wood and string. It came with one harmless arrow.

“Nah, that’s all right boi. I’ve got my own souvenir.” Gavin reached into his pocket and pulled out a gun. The gun. It shined in the daylight and sent the crew into stunned silence. Gavin marvelled at it, running his thumb lovingly up the side of the barrel.

“Is that… is that from the White Tower?” Michael choked out. He slipped it from Gavin’s hands, dropping the wooden bow onto the ground. It had weight to it and felt amazing in Michael’s hands.

“Yeah, what did you think the alarms were for? Turns out you can, if you sweet-talk a steward, knock them out and steal their keys, just open up the case and take a gun,” Gavin said.

 “I lost my crown… for your gun?” Geoff’s hand clenched into a fist. Gavin took the gun back from Michael and cradled it against your chest.

“I’m sorry Geoff, I didn’t know you wanted the crown…” Gavin took a step back away from his boss.

“You lost your crown? I earned that crown through sweat, tears and more sweat. Look at me! I’m a cripple because you wanted to bleeeeeeend in and I had to walk and walk and walk up those stairs for what? An ice cream and a tin of toffees? Fuck you; that was my crown.” Ryan jabbed his finger in Geoff’s direction.

“You’re not a cripple,” Michael scoffed. Ryan tried, and failed, to rev the engine of his new transportation to prove his point. It only brought a bigger smile to Michael’s face.

  “It’s nobody’s crown. Let’s just go, okay? Gavin got his gun, we got some beautiful gifts from Michael and we had a fun day being tourists,” Jack stood between Ryan and Geoff.

“Yeah, it was fun. I want to do more tourist stuff!” Jeremy clapped his hands together. There was a beat of silence and then Gavin pointed to the left towards the Tower Bridge,

“The London Eye is just over that,” Gavin suggested. He was met with some mutterings of agreement. Ryan squinted at the shape. He saw that there were more stairs to be climbed. Instead of accepting his fate, Ryan put his scooter in reverse. He slowly rolled backwards as it beeped erratically. Then he set it to drive and turned in the opposite direction. When the others called back to him, Ryan showed them his middle finger.

 “Well, guess we’re going this way,” Jack said. She started to follow Ryan. Jeremy trudged next to her, pouting and grumbling about how Ryan never let him do anything fun and how he always has to be so broody and serious. Jack swung her arm over his shoulder and pulled him close, “we’ll do something touristy tomorrow I promise. No heists. Anything we get, we pay for.” Jack pressed their foreheads together, “deal?” Jeremy nodded back.

“I lost my souvenir.” Geoff kicked the pavement. Michael rolled his eyes.

“You can swim for it,” Gavin suggested. Geoff ripped the gun from Gavin’s hands and slipped it inside the front of his pants, nestled behind the band of his underwear. Gavin didn’t bother asking for it back. He would have to disinfect it later.