#its easier to carry around small projects in my bag too so i can take my knits on the go

[limnologylover]

knitting anything larger than thread is for weenies, come on you know you want to make wedding ring shawls

[psychoseal]

TAG Minibang 2021

for @tagminibang​ I got together with the awesomely talented @scattergraph​ to create a little fluff piece exploring the relationship between Gordon and Virgil and how they always have each others backs. Gordon is not known as Virgil’s wingman for no reason. I did the words, and @scattergraph​ did the most adorable illustrations! so without any further delays I present to you: Wingman. 

Gordon is bored. It has done nothing but rain all morning, and he has taken to sitting on the windowsill watching the constant pounding of the drops on the pane. The sky is bleak and grey, the clouds looking as though they will never empty.

Alan is sleeping in Scott’s arms oblivious to his big brothers discontent as he snoozes happily and Scott is watching some documentary about some project he has no interest in. If it isn’t water related, Gordon does not care!  

John is out doing a grocery shop with their mom while their dad has been left to hold down the fort, and he escaped to his office to catch up on some work before Lucy’s car had even left the driveway, because he would rather do anything than play with Gordon. Gordon knows this.

Sighing dramatically he jumps from his spot and goes to find Virgil. Skipping up the soft carpeted stairs, before crashing in through his elder brother’s bedroom door, slightly breathless and runs into the room before diving onto the bed.

“For crying out loud Gordon! Knock” Virgil tells him from his desk, rolling his eyes.

Gordon’s heart sinks. Even Virgil doesn’t want to play with him.

Seeing the devastation on his little brother’s face, Virgil’s own heart melts with compassion.

“Sorry Squiddie, what do you want?” Virgil asks kindly.

“I’m bored Virgy. I want to go swimming but daddy said I can’t because it is raining. I said that it doesn’t matter because the pool is wet already and he shouted at me to leave him alone so I tried to play with Scott and he was too busy being boring and old.” Gordon tells him almost in tears.

Virgil gets up from the desk, where he has been working on a sketch from a photograph of their trip to the beach the previous summer, planning on giving it to his mom for her birthday in a few weeks time, and joins Gordon on the bed.

“Dad is busy with work and you know the pool rules, they’re there for your safety Fish” Virgil tells him gently, wiping away a stray tear from Gordon’s cheek with his sleeve.

“But the rules are so boring Virgy” Gordon replies in disgust. “All I get all day is “no Gordon you can’t play in the rain, you’ll get sick” “no Gordon you can’t jump off the piano, you’ll hurt yourself” it’s so unfair!” He is whining, and he knows it. But he doesn’t care. Nothing in his day is going the way he planned.

Virgil nods along with him, knowing that it is easier to agree rather than argue. “What do you want to do?” He asks, thinking that if he keeps him quiet and entertained then his father will be happy.

“I want to fly” Gordon replies with a grin.

“Pardon?” Virgil replies trying not to laugh.

“I saw it on tv. We can make a plane out of cardboard and fly it down the stairs” Gordon insists getting up and dragging a box full of art supplies out from under the bed and dumping the contents on the floor. “See we can decorate the box and we will both sit inside and fly down the stairs”

Virgil just stares at his brother, making a mental note to stop him watching tv!

But his little brother’s enthusiasm is contagious and he finds himself joining in decorating their plane. He even finds some additional cardboard so that they can make wings.

Gordon writes their names on the wings in big loopy handwriting with a thick black permanent marker; “GRODON” is on the right-hand wing and “VIRGILE” is on the left.

“Virgy can we paint it now?” Gordon asks delighted with their box plane.

Virgil nods happily, caught up on their project now. “Hang on I will go and get the paints, what colours are we painting it?”

“Yellow and green!” Gordon replies automatically. Combining both of their favourite colours. “Can you get the stripy paint?”

Virgil laughs at their old joke. A hand me down joke from their grandfather who tells a story about sending an apprentice carpenter on a mission for stripy paint as a joke. “Always”

Working together the painting of the plane does not take the two brothers long, and neither of them realise that they are getting paint everywhere, it is all over their clothes. And there are great splotches on Virgil’s bedroom carpet and he knows that his parent’s won’t be happy but that is the last thing on his mind. Gordon even has a streak of yellow paint on his face, under his left eye, across his nose and running down to his chin.

“What are we going to do while it dries?” Virgil asks. This is Gordon’s project and he doesn’t want to take over.

Gordon sits back against the bed and thinks. Waving the brush still in his hand causing even more paint to fly across the room splattering the walls. “Build a fort”

Virgil grabs the blanket off his bed and climbs up on his desk and throws it over the door and propping it up with two chairs. One from his desk and the other from Scott’s room to create an opening. Gordon grabs the pillows from Virgil’s bed and places them in their fort and they get settled on the floor.

“Can you read me a story?” Gordon asks resting his head on Virgil’s shoulder.

“How about I tell you a story?” Virgil replies. Not really wanting to move now he is comfortable.

“Okay” Gordon agrees. “But I want it to have dragons and monsters who want to eat Scotty and Johnny and Allie and you and I want to be the hero who saves the dragons and the monsters from being poisoned because I bet you all taste yucky”

Virgil stretches his arm and wraps it about Gordon’s shoulders.

“What should the dragons look like?” Virgil asks.

“Big and mean and green and they can breathe fire and the monsters are bright orange with tentycall thingies sticking up out their giant heads”

“Why don’t we draw them?” Virgil asks. “We can illustrate the story”

Gordon nods happily. The plane forgotten momentarily as they draw big colourful monsters eating their siblings and tearing apart their school, only for Gordon to save the day when he takes the monsters and moves them into the barn so he can have them for pets.

“You’re so good at drawing Virgy” Gordon tells him appreciatively. “Can we go and fly now?”

Virgil crawls out of their fort and checks the plane. It is still sticky but it will do. “Sure come on” he tells Gordon, holding open the door to the fort for his brother to join him.

Together they carefully carry the plane out of the room and across the hallway to the top of the stairs.

“You get in first Virgy then I can sit on your lap and we can push from the walls” Gordon demands.

Virgil obeys his brothers commands and sits back in the box, but he can feel a knot twist in his stomach as he looks down the steep stairs. A sudden nervousness, maybe this isn’t such a great idea! “Gordon? I don’t think we should do this”

“Why? It is fun” Gordon replies.

Virgil sighs before trying to explain. “What happens if he fall out, we could get hurt Gords”

This hasn’t occurred to Gordon and he turns around in the plane to look at his big brother. Reaching out for his hand and enveloping it with his much smaller one and smiling reassuringly. “Trust me Virgy. You won’t get hurt; I would never let you get hurt”

His eyes are so wide and so trusting. Eyes so close to Virgil’s own deep amber ones that he just can’t help but believe him. “Okay my little wingman, let’s do this thing” he finally speaks up his eyebrows lowering over his face deep in concentration as he pulls his hand free from Gordon’s and grabs hold of the top of the banister to “start the engine”.

Gordon squeals in delight as the box flies down the stairs, leaving more paint on the walls and carpet as the wings brush against the wall and bannister. He can feel the friction burning his backside and legs as they shoot downwards. This is even better than the pool!

To Virgil’s surprise they make it to the bottom in one piece and Gordon jumps up laughing so hard he can’t even stand still, his legs wobbling slightly before he gets his earth legs back.

Turning back to Virgil he is delighted to see an equally large grin on his face. “Again?” He asks hopefully.

Virgil doesn’t hesitate this time. “Yes!” He replies happily jumping up from the plane and helping Gordon drag it back up the stairs for its second flight.

They are halfway down the stairs when the front door opens and their mom comes marching into the house, her arms laden with paper bags packed with groceries and followed by John who can’t even see over the top of the bag, his bright red hair is the only thing that makes him look like a human and not a grocery bag with legs!

“LOOK OUT!” Gordon’s now panicked cry causes John to startle, and he stumbles, falling over his feet.

The bag goes flying, a graceful arc over to the stairs towards the plane. A bag of flour explodes all over Gordon and Virgil and a dozen eggs shatter mixing with the flour in their hair and all over their clothes. Gordon starts to giggle. This was even better than the flight! Getting filthy if one of his most beloved hobbies.

Lucy hearing Gordon’s cry comes running from the kitchen. John is crying, tears streaming down his face from the fall and the embarrassment of dropping the groceries. And he is her priority as she carefully kneels down to his level and helps him up into a sitting position and wrapping him up in her arms for a cuddle. Gently wiping away his tears in a similar way to Virgil did for Gordon just a few hours before.

“Are you hurt Johnny?” She asks concerned.

“MY KNEE HURTS!” He wails burying his face into her shoulder while she rubs his back with small comforting circles.

“Let’s have a look” Lucy replies. Lifting up the leg of his jeans to reveal a slight scrape, with small splatters of blood oozing through the cracked skin. “Oh Johnny that does look really sore. Come with me into the kitchen and I will get you sorted out. Would you like a plaster with planets on?”

John looks up from her shoulder and nods, allowing her to pick him up and carry him away.

“You two stay where you are” Lucy tells Gordon and Virgil, not even bothering to turn around. Her mom sense kicking in that the two culprits were about to run away!

“Think we have time for one more flight?��� Gordon asks.

“Mom said we have to stay here” Virgil reminds him.

“Spoil sport” Gordon replies pouting.

“Okay fine but if I get grounded it’s your fault!” Virgil replies as they both clamber up out of the plane to their feet.  

They don’t even get halfway back up the stairs before their mom comes back, and she is uncharacteristically furious. Her usually sunny features are incandescent with rage as she approaches the two boys.

Even Gordon cowers at the sight. Brave and fearless Gordon, cowers under the angry glare of his mother.

“WHATON EARTH WERE THE PAIR OF YOU THINKING?!” She thunders, her voice rattling the walls and causing both Scott and their father to come running.

“What is going on out here?” Jeff asks.

Lucy turns her fiery amber eyes on him, “YOU SHOULD KNOW. I ONLY LEFT YOU IN CHARGE FOR A FEW HOURS AND THIS IS WHAT I COME HOM TOO! VIRGIL, GORDON UPSTAIRS NOW AND START RUNNING A BATH, THE PAIR OF YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY FILTHY”

Virgil grabs Gordon’s hand and the pair race up the stairs to the safety of Virgil’s room before collapsing onto the bed laughing until tears are streaming down their cheeks.

“Come on, I think we ought to do as we are told and have that bath” Virgil tells Gordon once he has his breath back.  

Gordon loves the bath and happily agrees, following his elder brother down the hallway and into the bathroom he shares with his brothers.

The original tub has been ripped out and replaced with on twice the size of a standard tub, mainly for Gordon to play in!

“Can we have bubbles?” he asks hopefully.

“Sure” Virgil replies, as Gordon pours in the whole bottle of the strawberry bubble bath he found on the side of the tub. Virgil bites his lip, as he knows that was not a very good idea but he has had so much fun this afternoon, that his momentary moment of conscience is quickly buried.

Gordon strips off his clothes and dives into the warm bubbly water, grabbing his toy submarine so he can take it for a voyage. He is almost buried in bubbles, which are steadily rising higher as the tub continues to fill up.

“This has been the best day Virgy” Gordon tells him happily as he splashes him with water.

“Yeah it has Fish, we should do it more often!” Virgil replies with a grin, before sticking his hands in the water, and dumping bubbly water over Gordon’s head.

“VIRGY!” Gordon squeals, before pulling his brother into the tub. Virgil hits the water, which splashes over the side of the tub and hits the floor. “Oops” Gordon says giggling.

“You’re going down Squiddie!” Virgil replies laughing and splashing more water onto his brother’s face and not bothering to get out the tub. His clothes are soaking but he is having too good a time to care, and he cares even less about the water spreading its way across the floor.

Their play fight is interrupted when their parent’s barge into the room, having heard the commotion.

“WHAT ON EARTH?” Jeff roars, causing the two boys to jump in surprise.

“Hi Daddy” Gordon replies flashing his father his most charming smile.

“DON’T hi Daddy me young man, I asked you a question” Jeff’s voice is just above a whisper, a low almost menacing growl, which Gordon doesn’t back away from.

“We are having a bath Daddy, just like you and Mommy said” Gordon replies with an unrepentant shrug.

Jeff reaches across the boys and pulls the plug on their bath. Causing Gordon to squeak with indignation as they weren’t doing anything wrong. Jeff ignores his protests and lifts him out of the tub, wrapping him up in a warm, dry fluffy towel and walking him from the room, while Virgil sighs in resignation and follows Gordon and their parents from the room.

Jeff takes Gordon into his own bedroom to help him get dressed, while Lucy follows Virgil into his. Stopping in shock when she finally sets eyes on the destruction. “VIRGIL GRISSOM TRACY!”

Virgil finally stops to look at the chaos unleashed by his brother in boredom and flinches at the sight of the paint splattered walls, carpet and bedding. They have even somehow managed to get paint on the ceiling. The floor is littered with coloured pens without lids where the ink is staining the already ruined carpet, the bed sheet Virgil supplied for the fort somehow has a large tear in the side and his heart sinks because he just knows that he is in the biggest trouble ever!

“Get this cleaned up now and then get to bed” Lucy demands before storming from the room, the door slamming loudly behind her like a prison cell.

Virgil starts to clear away the fallen pens, slamming them putting back into his art supplies box with fury and returns it to its spot under the bed, when Gordon joins him, now fully dressed in his pyjamas and a dressing gown, dragging his cuddly squid behind him. Even Squid looks upset at the turn of events. This wasn’t what he wanted.  

“Virgy?” He asks tentatively.

“Get lost Gordon, I am in so much trouble because of you” Virgil replies, throwing a pillow at his brother’s head.

Gordon gets the message and flees the room, running back down the hallway to his own room and bursting into tears. He never meant for anything bad to happen and now Virgil hates him. He cries until he falls asleep, buried into a nest of blankets.

*TB*

Virgil is starving. He hates being punished but being sent to bed without any supper is the worst. This is all Gordon’s fault. He should never have listened to him, never have let him talk him into this.

It is just after midnight and the house is silent and still. The rain from earlier turned into a storm, which has finally abated leaving the night sky cloudless and clear. Stars can be seen for miles from his window, which he has opened up to tempt in some fresh air while he sits up on the windowsill gazing out at his freedom.

His reverie is broken when his doorknob slowly starts to turn and the door creaks open almost silently before someone quietly pads across the room to his bed. “Virgy?” the voice whispers. “Where are you?”

“Over here Fish” Virgil replies.

“I brung you a snack” he tells him smiling and holding out a pilfered bag of crisps.

Virgil jumps down from the windowsill and joins Gordon on the bed, helping himself to a few crisps, shovelling them into his mouth and savouring the salty flavour before swallowing.

“I’m so sorry Virgy, I never wanted to get you into trouble” Gordon tells him, his voice breaking with threatened tears.

Virgil abandons the crisps and embracing his younger brother with both arms, pulling him onto his lap. “It’s okay Fish really. I would never have tried it if you hadn’t of suggested it. It was fun. Right up until we got caught!”

“Really? You’re not mad?” Gordon asks hopefully.

“Not anymore Fish, it was partly my fault too” Virgil insists. “Come on let’s get some sleep”

The pair cuddle up in Virgil’s bed and both fall asleep quickly. Gordon trusts Virgil to always keep him safe, and for the first time since he gained a Fish brother, Virgil knows that he can always put his full trust in his little wingman.

*TB*

“And as the years go by, our friendship will never die” Gordon sings from his spot, on Virgil’s back.

Virgil rolls his eyes. He is sure that the ankle Gordon claims he has sprained is just an excuse for a lift back to Thunderbird 2 following a difficult rescue in the desert. The sun is beating down on their heads, and Virgil is exhausted.

“Come on Virg! SING VIRG!” Gordon encourages him, waving his arms around.

“Hold on properly, or I will make you get down and walk!” Virgil admonishes him with mock severity.

“You wound me big brother” Gordon replies “what was wrong with my singing?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?” Virgil replies with a grin as he continues to trudge towards the giant green ship which is mercifully fitted with air conditioning!

Finally they make it to the safety of Thunderbird 2, and Virgil unceremoniously deposits his brother into the passenger seat, before he starts to make the flight home.

Gordon yawns dramatically from his seat, having pulled one of the spare blankets up to his chin. “Hey Virg?” he calls sleepily.

“Yeah Gords?” Virgil replies glancing over his shoulder.

“Sing with me?”

Virgil sighs, it has always been this way. He can’t resist those puppy dog eyes!

“When the road looks rough ahead

And you're miles and miles

From your nice warm bed

You just remember what your old pal said…

YOU’VE GOT A FRIEND IN ME”

Gordon is fast asleep by the end of the song, which is how Virgil likes him! He may be his wingman, but there are just sometimes when he needs a break!

[endlich-allein]

Once again, @iinchicore was very kindly to translate an article for me. This is the interview with Till and Joey in MetalHammer (January 2021). The boys tell about their journey in the Amazon and their future projects together.

A big thank you, lots of kisses and a big hug to @iinchicore ♡

Till Lindemann & Joey Kelly : Friendship Without Limits

MetalHammer: How did the preparations for this journey differ in comparison to your Yukon trip?

Joey Kelly: We took along different equipment. While riding on the Yukon we used sturdy Canadian kayaks, which we couldn't find in Colombia. So we took along our own foldable 15 kilogramme kayak. Due to the climate, our choice of clothing was also different. Besides, the Amazon is much more dangerous than Alaska. There are many dangerous animals, small and big ones. You can find snakes, crocodiles and piranhas, which is why you shouldn't bathe in the river. You have to move differently on the Amazon than on the Yukon, where you only have to keep your distance to bears and elks. Amazonia is a jungle, where only those animals survive who eat the others.

Your first river journey led you to the Yukon, now you travelled on the Amazon. Was there a reason for why you picked that river exactly?

Till Lindemann: We were considering to travel along the Chinese Yangtze or the Lena in Russia, Siberia. Siberia was my favourite, but Joey convinced me to go to the Amazon. We have both been there before and knew a little about how to prepare and what to expect. One thing we knew right away was that, in regard to the nature and people, South America was much more exciting – Siberia looks similar to Alaska. That wouldn't have been all that interesting for our second book. Now the contrast is much greater: Alaska is austere and glum, the Amazon is the exact opposite with an entirely different wildlife and vegetation. Don't forget the wonderful colours of South America!

Any fascinating experiences of nature?

TL: It is really rare to spot an animal in the jungle. You can hear them everywhere, but they hide or are disguised very well. With the help of the local guides we observed snakes, birds, monkeys and a tapir. We saw pink dolphins and watched them do their jumps on the river. Because of their skin-like colour the locals believe they're incarnations of their dead loved ones and worship them.

How did the locals at the river react towards you?

TL: Reluctant, at first. You go to them and, for example, ask whether you can stay the night. They don't really talk much in the beginning, but after a night with a lot of Cachaca they warm up to you. Usually they were interested in our fishing gear. Most of them had never seen something like it, as they were used to fishing with rolled up strings and nets. I was amazed that every village we visited, no matter how remote the location, owned fridges with cold beer, they even had solar energy. Huge satellite dishes to watch football. For three days we visited one particular village. There was a storm, so they allowed us to stay. There was an older guy who had fallen off his stilt house, drunk, and broke his foot. Two young men went to the neighbouring village, a day's journey away, to get the shaman. The man should have belonged to a hospital, but that was entirely out of the question for him. It either heals on its own or it doesn't. We bandaged his foot and supplied him with pain meds. Then we continued drinking.

Did you plan beforehand what you wanted to see during your journey?

TL: Yes, a coca plantation. We knew that they existed there everywhere. At first, it was a lot of back and forth. They were staving us off, but after a lot of endless waiting and our patient agreeing to it, they allowed us to go. Along with two attendants from the village, we paddled down a branch of the Amazon that became narrower over time. A labyrinth of branches we would have never found our way out of. Eventually, we ended up at one of the countless plantations. It wasn't harvest time, however, so the leaves weren't ripe yet. But you could see all the tools for it: mashers, bags, and hundreds of bowls. And a little storage.

Did you try the coca leaves?

TL: Yes. We were on the plantation. They hid the plants below banana trees, so you couldn't see the plantation from the air. I did try a few coca leaves, but there is no sorcery about it. You just stay awake and feel energized. Everybody is chewing on them there, it's like coffee, just ten times stronger.

Did you reach your physical limits during this journey?

TL: The body adjusts to the climate pretty quickly. After three weeks you don't sweat all that much anymore. Even the sun doesn't bother you as much anymore, because you're thoroughly cooked anyway. But the humidity requires getting used to. The people there are handling it very differently. They own to pairs of shorts, two t-shirts and beach slippers, and they walk around like that all day.

JK: The climate there is exhausting, you're sweat-soaked after only three minutes. Personally, I don't mind it, but to people who aren't used to it it's a pain. The route we went on was quite difficult in parts, it was very serpentine. You had to paddle the whole time, you had to steer, then there were shoals or the water became too flat, so we had to relocate the boat.

You didn't capsize though, like it happened to you on the Yukon?

JK: No, the water level during that season was way too low. Later on, when the water comes in from the Andes during the monsoon season, the level rises by 15 metres. It drowns out entire forests.

TL: I was there once during the monsoon season. Back then only the tree tops were peeking out of the water. That's why they build their houses on stilts, so the water doesn't reach them. Many villages are located on mountain tops, as the water level won't rise that high.

Considering the many preparations and daily challenges, did you ever find time to relax during such an extensive journey?

TL: Travelling on the Yukon wasn't stressful, because we were sleeping on the sandbanks. Those experiences made travelling the Amazon even easier. As the sun goes down very early there, our only concern was to make camp before 6PM. Whenever we found a good location we sometimes made camp even earlier than that, instead of travelling on and risking not finding a good spot. That only happened to us once, so we had to sleep in the jungle, which wasn't all that bad either.

With a camp fire and night watch?

TL: A camp fire, yes, but we didn't need a night watch. You have to trust your guide, those guys know what they're doing. Our guide went ahead a couple of metres with a bit of string and, within a few minutes, came back with six piranhas. Then we turned on the grill and ate. Piranhas are really tasty, like giltheads.

Did you gain more respect for nature due to this journey?

TL: I had a great respect for nature before that already. Still, I couldn't hold myself back from taking pictures with snakes. I love snakes, Joey thinks they're scary. (laughs)

What did you learn along the way?

JK: I asked the Indians to teach me how to fish with a cast-net and pulled animals out of the water, which an aquarist would usually pay thousands of euros for. Scalars, discus fish, loricariids, sisorid catfish, catfish in all shapes and sizes.

Here in Europe we read a lot about the fact that these romantic times might be of the past soon, due to the systematic ecocide. Is that what you saw over there?

TL: When you approach Leticia you can make out the slash-and-burn methods used below. We assume that every minute jungle area the size of 1.5 football fields gets cleared, for soy plantations or pasture areas. The search for gold is also devastating for the nature. They use mercury to wash the gold out of rocks and clay. The mercury ends up in the rivers, in the fish, and then inside the people.

JK: The Amazon traverses through the entire continent. It is so broad and deep, there are even bigger ships cruising the river than on our rivers here in Europe. They carry natural resources, mainly wood. You can find a sawmill every couple of kilometres. They carry the tree trunks there and cut them along the length (4m by 1,20m or even 4m). Those planks then get transported either by ship or overland, a systematic deforestation of the Amazon area.

TL: You find a lot of filth in the main stream: huge tree trunks, garbage, bags full of plastic, and a lot of wood waste. It's illegal, but everybody does it. Very obviously, even during the day, nobody cares.

Are the locals not aware of the drastic situation?

JK: The sawmills pay the farmers 250 to 300 euros for one tree trunk. The sawmills sell it for 2.500 euros, and then here in Europe it costs up to 30.000 euros.

TL: As soon as they saw us, the lumbermen turned off their chainsaws and fled into the forest, yelling: “Piss off!” They were afraid that those pictures would be seen by the world. Same thing for the fisheries. Usually, the fish leave the lagoons during the dry season and swim back into the main stream, because the lakes dry out. The law allows it that they cast a net over half of the lake, so that a part of the fish can swim past. Now, the fishermen close off the entire lake, with up to ten nets. No fish can get past that anymore, only the very small ones. They're overexploiting the area high and low. They even steal all the turtle eggs from the clutches. It didn't used to be that way, back then they would leave half of it where it was.

Do you think that could change, if other types of income would replace the exploitation, like tourism?

JK: I don't think that the parts Till and I went to would be suitable for commercial tourism. Let's be honest, the biggest income is ensured by the coca production. You would travel right into a drug area. We could only move around freely there, because the government was taking care of the cartel conflicts at the time. Apparently, the military is now in charge of the coca trade.

TL: Corruption is the order of business. A policeman is earning less than a coca farmer. Thus, bribery and blackmail are commonplace. Almost all of it is illegal: fishing with the many nets, the gold-seeking, the wood clearing and the coca plantation. The areas are huge and hardly controllable. Since president Bolsonaro is in power in Brazil, the clearing business went up by 30 percent. Bolsonaro announced officially that the Amazon is a product, and that's how the people treat it. They expel the indigenous people and allocate them to surrogate areas, their land goes to the gold-seekers and their prospecting rights. The surrogate areas aren't of any use, however, so they don't live in villages anymore, but in small cities. That'll turn out to be very problematic in the future.

Was it a bizarre experience to you to live with indigenous people, even though it is said that there is no room for the white man?

JK: I've seen tourism in parts of the world where I'd have never expected it. An example would be the South Pole. Once I reached by goal there a plane landed, six tourists came out and paid several thousand dollars for a four to six hour long stay. I thought there was a lot less tourism at the Amazon than anywhere else. The only tourists who travel there are either extremely rich Americans or Russians who come in by helicopter, no matter how expensive the journey. As long as they were there once in their life, took a picture with an Indian and a monkey, then they fly back to Bogotá. All in all, you only meet natives here.

TL: You have to differentiate. There are also motor boats and Americans with sun hats on, sleeping in their loggias. But not in the area we were in. There were children there, who pulled at our pants and ran to our kayaks, because they had never seen anything like it. A canoe made of plastic! They only know boats made out of wood. The kids played with our fishing poles, the angling reels, and were amazed by our lures and wobblers. They had never seen something like that before. They only knew of the hooks, where you put a little meat on. There was a lot of curiosity.

Did the journey affect your friendship at all?

TL: Our friendship didn't get any better or worse, it's been a good friendship before. We want our travels to be periodic. Joey and I want to grant us this sort of time off every two, three years. We realized we're getting better at it. We drove down rapids. While travelling on the Yukon we would have peed our pants, but now we're capable of really daring manoeuvres among waves that are 1.5 metres high. You get well attuned over time, become more experienced with the daily routine, the luggage, moving around.

JK: That was one of the reasons why we planned out the next trip right after our Amazon journey. We paddled down the Rhine in August 2020. We decided to do this during the Corona pandemic, because like that we didn't have to travel through so many countries and still got to tell the entire river's history, which led us through Switzerland, Germany, Liechtenstein, Austria, France and the Netherlands.

Do these travels to the Yukon and Amazon satisfy your wish for solitude?

TL: Like we said, we already travelled along the Rhine. The Nile will be next. The Mekong river is also on our list, but with the goal to start at its origin. These journeys are really important to us. We might have published up to six books some time. We still have a couple of goals ahead of us: The Nile, maybe the Mississippi, one Russian river and the Mekong. Like that we would have visited a river in almost each part of the world.

Which seems to be a difficult goal to achieve, considering the current Corona pandemic...

JK: Sadly so. Because even if Germany will be cleared of the virus, that might not be the case for Tanzania, where the Nile originates, or in Egypt, where it ends. There are five countries in between, after all.

Symbolically, what did you take home from this journey?

TL: Humbleness! And gratefulness for what we have. At the same time, however, a sort of incomprehension for how we live here in Europe. With so much waste, lunacy and luxury. The people we met didn't really have anything. Property and wealth don't mean anything. The huts, the boats, tools, even the TV, it all belongs to everyone. You eat and drink together, and most of the work is done as a community. They say people are happier there. I won't be the judge as to whether that's true, but life there is simpler, more manageable, and thus people there live more modestly. In Germany people get up in the morning, rush to the office, are stuck in traffic, sit at the computer all day or manage machines, rush back home in the evening. In comparison, it's very relaxed at the Amazon. The people go to bed early, when they wake up they go fishing, hunt or raise manioc and corn. Life there is structured in a very simple way, it's been reduced to only the bare necessities.

What is the first image you see when you think of Amazonia?

JK: Looking back, I'm always thinking of this one boat ride very early in the morning. It was still foggy when we started paddling. To the left of us I can still barely see riverside, apart from that only fog, I can only see for two, three metres. We are on the Amazon without knowing what's ahead of us. It's quiet, there is no wind, the water is calm... That was a great experience.

[last-operator-standing]

Toll Of The Bell

Chapter 3 - Sonder

> Read on Ao3

> Chapter 1 (tumblr)

> Chapter 2 (tumblr)

> Chapter 4 (tumblr)

Summary: What now? He could roll over and accept the fate thrust upon him and die as Adler intended. Starting a new life away from it all couldn’t be that bad either. Or…

Or he could finish the mission.

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Warning apply this chapter

Words: 1.8k (7.3k total)

A/N: I'm sorry this one took so long asjdfjf I'm awful at keeping any sort of regular schedule- but i'm going to be trying much harder to keep the chapters flowing :') I'd love to hear any thoughts, and thank you all for the support <3 (p.s. Adler will be here v soon- Promise uwu)

"Please stop staring at me."

Bell has no intention of doing so. He's been staring down Lazar from the moment the man stumbled into the kitchen to join him at the table. The sunlight is harsh despite the closed curtains and the coffee fails to stimulate either agent's mind. This certainly isn't Lazar's ideal morning. The silence stretches on, but the uncomfortable feeling of Bell's eyes on him has him sighing loudly.

"Damn, Bell, alright." Lazar gives in. The chair scrapes loudly against the tile floor as he pushes back to stand, disappearing for a moment and returning with a bag. It piques Bell's curiosity; he was too tired to notice it last night.

A folder slaps loudly against the table and slides a few centimeters towards Bell. The Russian, unable to contain himself, surges forward to snatch it. "You're right about your buddy. Definitely a smuggler of sorts."

Bell flips the folder open and begins rooting through the contents. A picture of Kapano Vang is clipped on the inside. The first page has basic information. Name, call sign, date and place of birth. Bell's more interested in the finer details: A few suspected routes, potential cartel members, a list of what they believe is being smuggled. There's a few recurring words that catch his eye. Golden Triangle Cartel is scribbled at the bottom and underlined twice. Beside it, drawn in bold red ink and circled multiple times, Bell reads PERSEUS?

"What did you see yesterday, in those memories of yours?"

Bell gives a small shake of his head. "It was a bar, I think. He was there." He taps the portrait with a finger. "And someone else who knew us but.. I couldn't remember his face," The Russian gives a disappointed click of his tongue. "Or his name."

Lazar tries to offer a reassuring smile. "Hey, don't sweat it. It'll come back to you."

Bell wishes he could share in Lazar's positivity. He really does. But he can't be sure what brought the memories to him in the first place, or why they were so fragmented. After spending much of the night agonizing over any additional detail he might remember about Perseus or Kapano Vang or anyone else he had seen at that bar and coming up short, Bell's hope started to slip. In the end he could only point fingers at Adler and his MK-Ultra project. "So what's next?"

Lazar doesn't answer right away. He looks thoughtful. Even with their revelation on Kapano Vang and his cartel, they are nowhere closer to finding Perseus than they were before. They are back to square one.

"Well, I could try cross-referencing with MI6 again-" he means Park, Bell thinks with a snort "-and see if they have anything new."

Lazar's looking at him intently and Bell realizes he's waiting for a response. "Oh, uh. Yeah." Bell shifts awkwardly in his seat. "Whatever you say."

A week later, the two man team have no progress to show for their efforts. In that time, Bell's gone over the files at least a dozen and a half times and nothing's changed, nor have any new memories resurfaced. Lazar's cross-referencing has yet to unearth anything new either, telling Bell MI6 is just in the dark as they are.

"This isn't working, Laz." Bell slams the paper back against the kitchen table. His irritation is reflected in the other man's face but Lazar does a better job at hiding it. "We just have to keep looking," Lazar sighs. "We have the answer here somewhere."

Bell clicks his tongue in disapproval. "I've been over these files again and again. There's nothing here. We're not going to find Perseus on some piece of paper-" An idea strikes Bell. Something he never considered before now.

"Bell?" Lazar frowns. "You alright?"

"What if we look for that bar?" Excitement shines in Bell's eyes. Lazar's startled by his suggestion.

"I don't know-"

"C'mon, Laz, think about it. There was more than one Perseus agent there, in my memory." A plan was beginning to hatch in Bell's mind. From the way he's looking at him, Lazar doesn't like where he's going with it. "If we find that bar, maybe we can find one of those agents. Maybe even match some of these faces." He looks down at the file of unconfirmed but suspected Perseus soldiers.

"I don't know about this," Lazar repeats slowly, uncertainly. "If someone recognizes us it could cause some trouble. Especially if they recognize you. You helped stop Perseus the first time. No doubt his people are painfully aware of that."

Bell doesn't want to hear it, though. "It's just a risk we'll have to take," he argues. "I'm a spy, Laz. I know how to keep my head down."

After a bit of back and forth it's settled. First, they'll compile a list of bars in areas known or suspected to be frequented by Perseus. Then, while in constant contact, as Lazar insists, Bell will make his way through each alone and hope nobody recognizes him while he searches for the bar from his memory.

It takes two days to assemble a full list and another day and a half to narrow it down and map a route.

"I'm still not happy about this," Lazar grunts as he drops a duffel bag onto the table. Bell eagerly snatches it and begins shuffling inside. "You worry too much, old man."

The first thing Bell pulls from the bag is a change of clothes. They both agreed he needs something casual. And clean. It would make blending in with the crowd much easier. Too excited about the upcoming mission has Bell stripping where he stands. No time for modesty.

"C'mon, Bell, in the kitchen?" Lazar turns with a light pink tinting his face. Bell grins wide but doesn’t reply. The new outfit fits comfortably. He returns to the bag and roots around for his next prize. There’s a knife with a sheath and a small handgun waiting at the bottom. The knife is removed first. Bell carefully slides it free of its sheath. The blade is unusually slim and dark in color, and sports a dangerously sharp tip with partial serration of both sides near the hilt. Bell’s entirely absorbed in admiring the blade, so much so that he misses Lazar’s amused look until he speaks up.

“I thought you’d like that one.”

Bell returns the smile. “Oh, hell yeah. It reminds me of the one I had in-”

“Hey, Sims! You know reading that shit’s gonna make you go blind.”

“Yep! That’s why I want it alll up here.” Sims shot Adler a lazy grin. The commander slapped the book back against Sims’ chest.

“Bell, you’re with Sims. You usually bring out the best in each other.”

“RPGS! BRACE! BRACE!”

Bell watched in horror as a rocket collided with the chopper beside theirs. It careened dangerously before smashing into theirs, sending their own bird into a death spiral.

Everything was in chaos.

“Grab my hand! I gotcha! I got-!”

“We’ve lost power-!”

“We’re going down-!”

“BRACE!”

Bell blinks hard and his smile falls. There’s a knowing look on Lazar’s face and neither agent speaks a word about it. “C’mon,” Lazar gives a pat to Bell’s shoulder. “Showtime.”

The pair ride in silence. Lazar’s behind the wheel, giving Bell some time to think. He tries to keep the mission center focus, but the memories of Vietnam are overwhelming, fresh in his mind as if they just happened. And they’re not even real. I was never in Vietnam.

The car rolls to a stop and breaks Bell from his thoughts. “Alright, remember, coms on at all times.” Bell rolls his eyes and pops the door, deftly sliding from his seat. “I mean it, Bell!” But he slams the door without reply, turning towards the street. The small earpiece is already safely pressed into his ear and hidden behind his hair.

The checkered brick sidewalks stretch wide on either side of the street. There’s a decent amount of people strolling to and fro, some carrying briefcases and dressed in neatly pressed suits, others in casual attire with seemingly no important place to be. Lazar pulls off, leaving Bell to head for the first destination on his list.

The first thing Bell notices as he pushes into the first bar is the pungent mingling of smoke, alcohol, and sweat in the air. The floor beneath his boots is a glossy hardwood and matches the light oaken walls. The occupants chatter noisily, and although the sound is familiar, the atmosphere is not. This is not the right place. Keeping his appearance as casual as possible, Bell slips through the crowd and retreats out the back door. He glances around to confirm he’s alone before mumbling his findings to Lazar.

One down, seven more to go.

The second bar Bell stumbles into is smaller. There are less individuals milling around and the golden walls are all wrong from the dark cedar panels from his memory. The third bar is even less promising, while the fourth and fifth are so far from Bell’s memory that he’s positive he’s working backwards now.

Bell rejoins the thinning herd on the streets with a dejected sigh. This wasn’t working out. There’s two more bars to check and already it was getting dark. He’d hope for something; A clue, a new memory, a familiar face. Lazar keeps up with words of encouragement but Bell doesn’t have the capacity to share the optimism.

The sixth bar Bell checks holds a notable hushed atmosphere. Right away he’s stricken by the dark atmosphere. It felt.. Tense. Insidious. It doesn’t feel right, but for an entirely different reason. While most of the denizens ignore Bell, a few side-eye him dangerously. He steps to the counter and orders a drink, primarily to alleviate any suspicions from both inside and out.

Bell can’t shake the feeling of eyes boring into his back. It’s somehow different from when he first walked in and was certainly making him more uncomfortable. He shifts in his seat and tries his best to nonchalantly turn and find who the hell was staring at him so hard, but when he looks, he finds nothing out of the ordinary.

The feeling of unease doesn’t leave. He grows antsy and finally after paying with money given to him by Lazar, Bell downs the last of his drink and turns back into the streets. This is certainly not going the way Bell had hoped. The seventh bar is quite the walk from the sixth, allowing him some time to breathe and collect his thoughts.

The feeling of unease melts from Bell’s shoulders the longer he walks. Lazar’s quiet so he turns his attention outward and listens curiously to the broken chatter of the dwindling civilians.

“-think he talks about anything else?”

“Well, it’s not like-”

“Timur?”

“That’s not.. Point.. Why else-”

“Timur!”

“I just think you should consider-”

A hand lands heavily on Bell’s shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. He turns in surprise.

“Timur!” A man stands before Bell with a lazy smirk and a gleam to his eyes- as if he recognizes him. His dark hair is cropped close to his head and a pair of lightly tinted shades adorns his face. The accent is certainly not Russian, and it throws Bell off guard. “Hey! Remember me?”

[beanenigma]

Tips for people who like to write by hand

So you’re an old timey writer who enjoys the feeling of paper as you breathe life into a story? Or, like me, you can’t use your phone at school and just wants to get some writing done while math class bores the others? 

Well, me too and I’ve come to your aid! I’ve done some pretty stupid things that costed me hours and hours of searching for lost scenes and struggling to find ideas I knew I’d written down so you don’t have to! 

Find the right notebook for you

By experience, notebooks take a long time to be filled. In good nanowrimo times, I take from 6 to 8 months to finish one. So you’ll be stuck with this guy for a long time. Make sure to pick one that you like and is right for your needs. I, for example, prefer spiral notebooks. You can rip out pages if you need to (if you mess it up, if someone asks you for one, if you just need a page to write down a grocery list or something, etc) and you can put a pen on the spiral. I also like having a pocket to put pieces of ideas I have. 

Some spooky stories about having the wrong notebook: 

I got stuck with a brochure old planner for two years. My mom didn’t use it in the year it was meant for, so I thought oh, it’s free real estate. As it turns out, it had really small space between the lines, so the pages would take forever to fill, it had all those day and hour numbers and the paper was really thin. It was terrible and it made writing terrible. It would have been a thousand times better if I just spent a few bucks on a regular notebook. 

More recently, I started using just the kind of notebook I like, a spiral notebook with a pocket. But I bought it a couple of years ago at a fandom event I attended and the cover was a personalized Divergent cover. At the time, I thought if was pretty cool and everyone would know the reference. But now it has aged so very poorly. The cover has blood all over it and it says “Faction Before Blood”. So now I’m scared to pull it out to write at uni and people will think I’m in a gang or something. 

Number your pages

I know, it sounds like a lot of work. But you can get a notebook with pages already numbered, number it yourself or do it like I do and number it every 10 pages (just because it’s easier). If you don’t feel like doing all of this repetitive work,  date your writing. It’s cool to see how much you progressed, how long you have been writing this project, when you had this idea, etc. One thing doesn’t have to exclude the other, but both methods serve the same purpose. 

And this purpose is to help you get an idea of how much you write (and feel good about your progress) and to help you organize yourself on all you’ve been writing. Which takes us to the next tip. 

Make the first page an index

Not only it will take the pressure off the first page, it will also help you so you don’t keep losing the awesome stuff you’re writing and forgetting it exists. Everytime you start a new scene or change projects, go to the index and write down the page or the date you started this new section. Since I number every ten pages, I find the first page with a number on it and start counting forward or back to the new page. But you can do it in any way that suits you. 

Make a random idea page 

It doesn’t have to be the second page (it usually isn’t for me), but it’s good to have one. Sometimes, in the middle of writing, you have that great idea for something you need to change on what you’ve already got, or you got a completely new insight. It’s good to have your idea page somewhere close you can just flip to, write it down and get right back to writing. And don’t go easy on that page! Write it diagonally, vertically, draw on it, anything. It’s just there to take out those ideas so you can take a look at it another time and not mess the flow you’re in right now. 

Keep your enemies close. And your pen even closer!

You know your favorite bic friend? It has a secret weapon just for you to use. That little flap of the cap? Use it to keep your pen always close. I normally put it on the spiral of my notebook. But if you have a brochure, you can put it on the cover. Sometimes it damages it a bit, but it’s a good trade for having it always ready for action. If you use moleskine, I saw that they normally have designated pen places. If they don’t, I have a tip for it just under this one! 

Take your time to find which kind of pen is your weapon of choice. Personally, I think nothing beats a black ballpoint pen. I know some people like fineliners for writing, but they make the other side of the paper all gross looking and I like to keep it clean. Plus, I write really small and fineliners often bleed in my handwriting. I took my time searching for my favorite brand and I settled on Molin ballpoint pens. 

I would recommend buying your favorite pens in bulk. Nothing is worse than pen hunting around when you have an urgent idea. I bought 50 pens for super cheap and I stack them EVERYWHERE. In all my bags, in my sketchbooks, in my bullet journal, in my writing notebook, in my drawers, anywhere I think it will be easy to find one when I need it ( also giving some to my friends who keep stealing my pens).

Crafting the perfect notebook

You don’t have to be a crafter to modify your notebook to better suit you! Find a ribbon anywhere in the house. Cut it to be a little longer than the book. Tape that bad boy to the inside of the back cover and everytime you stop writing, put that ribbon on the page you stopped. This helps you not to get lost in your previous writing and get right back to business when you resume.

Also, if you really like that moleskine vibe but don’t have the cash, just get a regular clothing elastic, make cut it just the size of the notebook and glue both ends to the inner part of the back cover. There you go! Now you can close it (and keep it closed).  

If you like post-its, you can take half of the block (or however many sheets you cant put in there and still close the notebook comfortably) and glue it to the inside part of the cover of your notebook so it will always be conveniently available for you.

If your notebook doesn’t have a place to put your pen on and you really don’t want to mess up the cover, you  take a small elastic (smaller than the pen) and tape (or preferably glue it) it to the back part of the notebook with both ends inside. There! Ready for the trip! Speaking of which...

Always carry your notebook with you

You never know when inspiration is going to strike. In class. At the bank. In a mall. Whenever you have a little time, you can write something. Or just take a look at what you’ve done and feel good about it. 

Not in the mood for writing? Edit. Reread what you’ve done and start finding what you want to change once you type it in.  When doing this, don’t be scared to cross out entire sentences and rewriting them on top. If it starts getting too messy, go to a blank page and rewrite the scene and you think it should have been done the first time. It seems counter-intuitive in a copy+paste kind of age, but I assure you it is worth it.

Typing your work

This is one of the biggest reasons I love writing in pen and paper. When you type, your first round of editing is done! 

Don’t zone out when typing. As I said, typing is your first round of editing. It is important to keep aware of all of the things you might have done wrong when writing. Some people say writing it on paper and then typing it is a waste of time. I say it saves time and lives. 

Keep it loose!

Just because you are writing in an actual physical book, it doesn’t mean you are writing a actual physical book. This is still your notebook and these are still your notes. So don’t be afraid to get messy. Write things out of order (seriously, it’s okay to not go chronological. i know it’s hard). Outline. Sketch. Tip-ex the whole thing. Get post-its on it. Take notes. Make genealogical trees. Draw maps. 

If you’re feeling down or uninspired, try very basic writing exercises: write what you see, what you feel, something to try and make you laugh or something to make someone cry. It’s your place to express yourself. And once you got those creative juices flowing, happy writing :)

I hope you enjoyed my tips and please, feel free to reblog this with your own tips and tricks. I’d love to hear them! And follow me for some more writing content! 

[etherealwaifgoddess]

One In A Million - Chpt.1

Summary: Project Traveler is ready for its first test subject and you volunteer for the position, unwilling to risk any of the other brilliant minds who have been working on the project from the beginning. 

Word Count: 1.6k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! Who’s ready to get this started!? I’ve been sitting on this fic a while now and I finally feel like it’s ready to be out in the world. I’m so excited to share it with you all. Hope you enjoy! XOXO - Ash

Chapter One

“Send me.” you offer, causing the room full of scientists and PhD’s to turn and stare at you. “I mean it.” you continue, “You guys need someone you can trust who knows the science behind this if it goes wrong. The only one who will miss me is my cactus.” 

Chelton, the head of SHIELD’s Traveler project, looks at you thoughtfully. You’re young, still working towards your PhD after completing your masters a few years ago. It’s hard for him to believe you have nothing tying you to the world, but thinking back he can’t remember you ever talking about family or friends or anything personal. He assumed you were just taciturn by nature but he realizes now it was more than that. “You realize this is test number one?” he asks you, “We’re pretty sure it’s ready to go but if we’re wrong....”

You waive him off, “I know, I know. Death, dismemberment, permanent brain damage, yada, yada, yada. I’ve watched you guys work on this for two years now, it’s as ready as it’s ever gonna be. And someone needs to be the guinea pig, so it might as well be me. I’m still learning, if you lose me there’s still enough brains to keep things going and try again. If we lose one of you the project could end permanently.” You know it’s calloused but you made up your mind as soon as you had seen them putting the finishing touches on the transporter a week ago. 

“Don’t discredit yourself, Y/N.” Chelton admonishes, “You're a valued member of this team. I want you to take the weekend and really think about this. Make preparations if you’re still serious after thinking it over. When you come in on Monday if you’ve changed your mind, no one will think any less of you.” 

You give him a soft smile, knowing you need to assuage his concern, “Okay, thanks Chelton. I’ll think about it. Now, who’s ready to get out of here?” You pick up your files, ready to pack up for the day. It’s been a long week and you’re suddenly eager to get home, this will be your last weekend in the twenty-first century for a while. 

Your apartment is a small studio over top a corner shop and it’s just big enough that you’re not constantly bumping into your furniture. Definitely an upgrade from the shoe box you lived in at college with two roommates. When you had moved to the city to work on the project recreating Tony Stark’s time machine it felt like a luxury just to have a place of your own. You water the little cactus who sits on the window sill in your living room, and settle in with your laptop to pay a few bills online. If things go as planned and you come back, it will be important to still have a roof over your head. 

Your evenings are quiet with none of your friends living in the city. You email a few of them to let them know you’ll be away on a work trip and that you miss them. The picture of your parents sitting on the bookshelf makes your heart ache for a moment. You wonder if they would be proud of you if they were still alive. They’ve been gone for a decade now but it doesn’t do much to dull the pain of their loss. 

Your stomach rumbles, reminding you that you haven’t eaten since breakfast. Normally you’d just scrounge up something from your cupboards, whatever you had leftover from earlier in the week. But a sense of fatalism hits and you realize that if you don’t make it back in one piece on Monday it doesn’t really matter if you blow a day’s worth of pay on a five star restaurant or not. And you have been dying to go to Peter Luger Steak House since you moved to Brooklyn. You put on your nicest looking dress, dark blue silk that accents your curves without making you look lumpy, and throw on a little make up for the hell of it. This might be your last weekend alive and you’re going to make the most of it.

xxXxx

Monday comes far too quickly and you’re a little ashamed to admit you’re not feeling your best. You’ve decided it’s easier to accept the idea that you’re not walking away from the test run so that you’re not devastated if and when something goes awry. You spent the entire weekend doing all the things you usually put off for more practical endeavors. The queue on your Hulu and Netflix accounts are clear and you’ve eaten a lifetime of fancy foods. You also learned what good, twenty year old scotch tastes like and it was worth every cent. You probably didn’t need to finish off the whole bottle over the course of three days though. 

You drop your bag into your bottom desk drawer and hand Chelton an envelope when he comes over to greet you. “This is everything,” you tell him, “Passwords, account information, a list of people to contact. If things go sideways I know I can trust you to take care of things for me.”

The older man accepts the envelope but pulls you in for a brisk, uncharacteristic hug. “I’m so proud of you.” he says roughly. 

“Oh come on, pull it together old man.” you tease, “I’ll be back in all of a minute if we’ve done our jobs right.” 

“That’s right, and you’ll have some wild stories for us I’m sure.” 

You join the rest of the research group, letting them know test number one for project Traveler is a go. The room erupts into happy chaos, everyone working at their stations getting the machine up and running. You run through the processes, double checking it for full functionality, and for the first time you start to feel genuine excitement that you might actually be about to go back in time. 

Harris, one of the other original scientists on the project, gives you a run down for a second time, as if you didn’t assist with creating the protocols yourself. “You will have three jump points back to our time once you get there. One month, six months, one year. If for whatever reason you can’t get back on the first jump you still have two more shots to find your way back to us. You have to set up these three devices in the basement of the Strategic Scientific Reserve headquarters when you arrive to keep the link open for the jump points. You cannot lose this brooch or you’ll have nothing to pull you through. When you get there write down the exact time and date so you can ensure you’re at the jump points in time, it’ll be down to the second so be sure you do that first thing.” 

“I know. I’ll be just fine.” you assure him while straightening out the neckline of your smart looking dove grey suit. The team had rustled up a vintage suit for you so that you didn’t stick out like a sore thumb when you got back to 1940. You fasten the antique looking brooch to the breast of it, knowing you’ll need to carry it on you always to ensure you have a way back. The team had decided against wristbands due to how obvious they would be in another time period and had settled on a tie tack or a brooch depending if it were a man or woman going back. 

Harris nodded but carried on, “When you get there ask for Agent Wilson right away. Show him this card and he’ll get you access to one of the SSR aliases and bank accounts. You’ll be set up for as long as you need to be there. But remember, if you make any drastic changes to the past you’ll be forming a split in realities and creating a new timeline. We don’t know what kind of effects that could have. You need to stay under the radar and keep your head down.”  

“Will do. It’ll be okay. I’ll be back in a minute, maybe six if I’m having a good time. You just worry about where you’re taking us all for dinner to celebrate tonight.” 

Harris nods and lets you past him to take your place on the transporter. It’s been five years of tireless work for most of the people in the room trying to recreate and improve upon the machine Tony Stark and Bruce Banner used to send the Avengers back for the infinity stones. You learned so much in the past two years since you joined them. It was the opportunity of a lifetime and you are so grateful to have been given it.

“Okay guys, this is it. Nobody better eat my yogurt in the fridge before I get back.” you say with a wry smile, getting into position in the middle of the machine. 

A few of the guys chuckle while they begin flipping switches on the control panel, readying the transporter.

Chelton returns your smile despite deep worry lines creasing at the side of his eyes, “We’ll see you in a minute.” he says and then he presses the final set of command keys.

You don’t close your eyes, not willing to miss a moment if they’re your last. Everyone’s faces are broadcasting varying mixes of fear, excitement, and hope as you look around your team. It starts out slow, a faint tingling of the hairs on your arms. Like you had rubbed a balloon along them and static electricity had built up. The tingling increases until your whole body is thrumming with a buzzing energy and then the world goes white.

[xmxisxforxmaybe]

The sharing bed prompts I loveee that shit. What about “person A hogs all the covers and person B’s solution is to spoon them” and “does that feel good” with Rami as person B?

All right—I took some liberties with this prompt, and while it isn’t smut, it is fluffy and fun. Perhaps there needs to be a Part II, but for now, here you go : )

Y/N is the press tour director for Bohemian Rhapsody, so essentially, she is in charge of the boys. This is totally AU-ish, and this is also the first time I’ve written Joe and Gwil. Forgive me if it’s bad. 

* * * * *

Having been on the road with the boys for several weeks, I knew it was never anything that was going to make my life easier when they started being exhaustingly charming to me and only me.

“Cut the shit, boys. What do you want?”

Rami grinned, but I shook my head, “Nope—don’t try that either. What do you want?”

Rami’s smile faltered, and he sighed. He licked his lips, tucking his bottom one between his teeth, and I turned away, refusing to let any of his ticks affect me now.

Everyone on the tour could see the way we looked at each other, but I had a job to do. Rami was an actor, and this press tour was only going to be one small part of his life. But for me, this press tour’s success could send my name right to the top of the PR list, ensuring I’d never have to work three jobs to make ends meet again.

And no one, no one knew that.

This was Hollywood; people weren’t interested in the rags to riches story anymore. All that mattered was what your life looked like, so I made sure to consistently project a strong, confident woman with nothing to lose.

Except that right now, it sounded like I was going to be forced to make a very difficult decision: to keep up appearances by giving over to the boys’ demands, or to buckle, revealing how much the success of this tour really meant for me.

Joe stepped forward and popped onto the edge of the desk in my hotel room, crossing his legs and changing his voice to a high, nasally pitch.

“Well, ya see Mista Sheffield,” Joe said in his best Fran Fine impression, “as the nanny, it’s clear ya been makin’ these kids work way too hard. If they don’t get a break, it could be very bad for their health—and yours,” he added with a wink.

Sighing, I pushed back from my desk and looked at Joe, who re-crossed his legs and batted his eyes.

“I’ll consider your offer if you put on one of Nanny Fine’s skirts, Mazzello.”

“Uh, did you not see the pictures of us in drag? Only Rami’s got the stems to pull that look off.”

I flicked my eyes over to Rami and he smiled, although it was a shyer smile than usual. However, I didn’t look back at Joe. Rami was almost always the leader of their schemes, so I asked, for the third time, what exactly they wanted.

“Since our stop in the next city has been delayed, we thought we could have some time to . . . explore Italy.”

“And?”

“We want to rent a car—”

You started shaking your head no, but Rami pressed on.

“We want to rent a car and drive. We have plenty of time to get there—”

“And if something goes wrong? My god Rami—we are talking about an extra 48 hours, not a week!”

“Nothing will go wrong. You have my word.”

“Those are the most famous last words in every movie, television show, and novel produced in the last century!” I said, my voice rising as I stood up from the desk chair.

“We’ve already mapped it out and it only takes twelve hours longer than the train you have scheduled,” Rami spoke in a rush, moving to stand in front of me and to grasp my upper arms. “We have our cell phones. And . . .”

“And?” I prompted.

“And you’ll be with us,” Rami finished, his voice low and soothing as his eyes burned into mine.

I had to close my eyes to escape his spell because what he was saying was actually not as unreasonable of a request as I had been sure it was going to be. Backing away from Rami’s grip, I sat down on my bed with a plop.

“What does Gwil say?”

“It was his idea.”

“Oy vey,” I said, flopping back onto the bed.

The bed bounced as Joe landed beside me, perfectly propped up on his elbow.

“Soooo maaaa, what do ya say?”

“If—oof,” I said bouncing as Rami landed on my other side.

“If Joseph Mazzello agrees to never impersonate The Nanny again, we can take the car.”

The boys laugh and plant twin kisses on my cheeks and I give them both a hard shove away from me.

“But if anything, ANYTHING happens, I am holding you, Rami Malek, personally responsible,” I said as I stood up and glowered down at him.

“Ooo, Ram, man. That means she’s docking your pay.”

“Don’t care, Joey!” Rami cried as he exaggeratedly sniffed the air. “Can you smell that?”

“What . . . should I be smelling . . .”

“It’s the smell of FREEDOM!” Rami roared as he thumped Joe on the chest, hard enough to make him groan, then start giggling.

A small wrestling match ensued before I yelled at them to get out before they broke my bed.

“Go tell Gwil the good news,” I begged, making them freeze as Rami’s head poked out from under Joe’s stomach after Joe had pinned him with his entire torso.

They scrambled off the bed, each of them fixing their hair as they hurried out of the room to tell Gwilym the good news.

I sat down on my disheveled bedding and bowed my head, praying to whatever god that would listen for this minor detour to happen without a hitch.

The boys, as high-energy as they could be, had been giving their all at every event and had been working ungodly hours. If I could do this for them, they deserved to enjoy it.

* * * * *

God.

The master of the universe.

The almighty creator.

The powers that be.

The flying spaghetti monster.

It didn’t matter what the higher power I prayed to went by, whoever or whatever it was, hated me.

No.

It loathed me, and I became convinced that it got off on circumventing any possible happiness I could have in my life.

I fought back tears as I followed the boys through the sopping cow field, at least I assumed that’s what it was because it was nearly 2 in the morning and the only lights we had were our dying cellphones (which had no service, of course) and one tiny flashlight that had been jammed between the seat in the back of our too-small rental car.

It certainly smells like a cow field, I thought as my foot landed in something that felt suspiciously more squishy than sopping grass.

We were all damned lucky that we hadn’t had anything other than our pride hurt when a whopping pile of mud from the endless rain slid across the road pushing our car over an embankment and into a field. The car had refused to start, and we waited for over two hours for another vehicle to pass.

It was getting cold, so I finally said, “We can’t wait here all night.”

The boys all looked out the window and into the pouring rain.

“Look at the sign,” Gwil said pointing at something that was on the other side of the immense field. “Looks like a vacancy banner.”

“Like the boss said, we can’t wait here all night. It’s not like a cellphone tower is going to sprout up from all the rain,” Joe said.

“Pop the trunk,” I said, moving to open the door and step out into the rain.

Rami grabbed my arm and spoke in a voice that was heartbreakingly earnest.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“I know,” I said, shaking him off and opening the door.

Luckily, we had all packed light and our bags were easy to carry. Rami tried to take mine and I refused; the last thing I wanted to feel at this moment was like a damsel in distress.

The walk took well over an hour, but it was exactly as Gwil said: a vacancy sign, except that none of us could have predicted that it was a place that made the Bates Motel look like a St. Regis.

We paused despite the pouring rain and looked at each other.

Joe nudged Rami, who faltered, but then took the lead and opened the ratchety front door, a chunk of sopping old paint glopping down on his shoe as he stepped through the doorframe.

We all shuffled in behind him, and it was clear the lobby was not meant for gatherings of people. Gwil and I stood elbow to elbow, a dusty shelf of outdated brochures brushing against my arm.

Rami angled himself forward and rang the rusty bell.

It made a pitiful ding that matched its home.

Rami’s hair was plastered to his head and falling into his eyes. While we waited, he slicked it back and I noticed it was almost long enough to tuck behind his ears when it was wet.

Meanwhile, Joe hadn’t missed the way I watched Rami, even in this dire circumstance. He was one of the many who knew how we felt about each other and he also knew that had been a strong part of the reason for this trip. Rami had confessed to him that he believed if he could get me to forget about the bustle of the tour, even for a day or two, he’d have a shot at figuring out if I was interested in him.

Joe’s insistence that I was just wasn’t enough. Rami wanted to be sure before he made a move, especially if it could mean turning the great dynamic we had established between all of us into something forced and uncomfortable.

“Hit it again,” Gwil said, his normally patient self becoming agitated. He hated to be dirty, and I knew he was thinking about a hot shower.

Hell, I knew we were all thinking about a hot shower.

Rami reached for the bell again, but before he could press it, a very old man shuffled out to the desk, his hoary head not more than a foot taller than the desk itself. He was wrapped up tight in a robe and there were slippers on his feet.

He began speaking in Italian and the dialect was so strong that we all looked at each other in utter confusion.

“English?” Rami asked in a desperate plea.

The old man cocked his head, little wisps of white hair billowing with his movement.

“I’m guessing that’s a no,” Gwil muttered, his voice tired.

“Rami—”

He turned around and looked at me.

“The key hooks on the wall.”

Rami nodded, his mouth puckering as he thought.

“We need rooms for the night,” Rami said, pointing to the keys on the wall. “Uh, camera, per favore.”

The man nodded, “Si, si,” and took two keys off the wall.

He began speaking once more, but Rami pointed to the last key hanging on the wall, trying to get another room in case one of the rooms was too small for all three of the boys to share.

“No, no,” the man said waving the two keys from the wall in front of Rami’s face and speaking some more.

It was clear we were getting the last two rooms the man had.

“La moneta!” he barked when Rami held his hand out for the keys, and we all reached into our bags for whatever we had in Italian currency.

The old man gave us a total and Joe counted it out. After the man recounted the money, he handed the keys to Rami and pointed toward the darkest section of the motel.

Again, we all cast a glance at each other, but once we were back outside in the pouring rain, Rami took the lead and walked off toward the dark rooms.

He tried one key, then the other and reached blindly along the wall for a light switch after the door had creaked open. A single lamp flicked on, and we were greeted by the smallest room I had ever seen. There was an ancient television propped up on a stand, one chair, and one bed that looked to be no bigger than an extra-large twin.

Rami glanced at me, then hurried to the next door, shaking the key furiously in the lock to get the door to open.

It was the same room, right down to the extra-large twin bed.

Rami looked at Joe and Gwil and said, “I don’t suppose the three of us could—”

“Oh for pete’s sake, Rami. Come on,” you said tugging his jacket’s sleeve and hauling him back into the other room.

Joe and Gwil exchanged a look, and despite their exhaustion, smiles crept across their faces.

As soon as the door shut behind him, Rami turned around and locked the chain.

With a sigh, he started to apologize again, but I cut him off.

“Rami—no one could have predicted this would happen. I’m sure we will laugh about this . . . if we don’t get axe murdered in the night.”

“Did you ever see that episode of the Twilight Zone where—”

“Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare plant some freaky image in my mind before we have to try to fall asleep.”

Rami gave me a small smile before he finally dropped his soaked bag on to the floor.

“We may have to wring out all our clothes,” he said frowning with disgust at his wet luggage.

“First, I’m taking the hottest shower in history,” I said, marching into the bathroom, then proceeding to scream as I collided face to chest with a mostly naked Gwilym.

Rami and Joe both burst in from their doors, and then they started laughing.

“Your faces,” Joe squeaked out.

Gwil and I looked at each other and broke, laughing until we cried at the absurdity of the entire situation.

Ever the gentleman, Gwil offered the bath, and yes, it was an old clawfoot bathtub, not a shower, first.

“No—you go for it,” I said patting his shoulder and following a still chuckling Rami out of the door who was swiping at the tears that had leaked down his cheeks during his laughing fit.

I collapsed onto the uncomfortable, putrid yellow chair, a puff of laughter escaping in intermittent bursts as I remembered the feeling of my nose colliding with Gwil’s chest.

“Damnit,” I growled, leaning back in the chair.

“What is it?” Rami asked from the seat he had taken across from me on the edge of the bed.

“My shoe strings are so wet I can’t untie them and my shoes are too tight to kick off.”

“Let me try,” he said, moving to kneel in front of my shoe. “Wow—okay. That’s definitely cowshit.”

Laughter burbled up from my throat again as I stared at Rami’s fingers working my shit-covered laces, and he looked up at me, his nose crinkled, his hair a mess, and I laughed harder until he joined in.

“When you win an Oscar for Freddie, I’m going to remember this moment,” I said, smiling down at him as he freed my right foot.

“Shut up,” Rami said with a smile. “Never gonna happen.”

“Why are you so afraid to let yourself want it?”

“For the same reason you’re so afraid this tour will be a disaster,” Rami finished with a grunt as he freed my left foot and sat back on his butt, getting ready to work his own tennis shoes off.

“What?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Rami wiped his fingers on the shins of his soaked pants and looked up.

“You’re not the only one who came from almost nothing, Y/N. We recognize our own kind in this world.”

“But—”

“My parents worked really hard to make sure we had opportunities, but that was about all we had.”

“I didn’t know.”

Rami and I looked at each other, and for the first time I realized what we had in common: an insatiable hunger, a need to prove ourselves.

I know it seems like it only happens in the movies, but as soon as I made that realization, it was like a jolt of electricity went through my body. I had never wanted to kiss someone more than I did in that moment, and just as I was about to drop to the floor and close the distance, Gwil knocked from inside the bathroom.

“Your turn, Y/N!” he called.

I shook my head and stood up, hurrying into the bathroom.

By the time we had all rotated through, Joe going last and informing us with a loud, “Yikes!” that the hot water was all gone, I was exhausted and settled under the minimal covers on the bed.

Rami had been sitting in the yellow chair for the past half an hour, trying to get his cellphone to work.

“We’ll use the phone at the front desk in the morning,” I mumbled sleepily. “Let’s get some rest before the rooster crows. Cuz I guarantee there’s one roaming around out there unless the axe murderer was in the mood for chicken.”

Rami’s laughter was soft as he rose up from the chair and walked over to the light switch.

“Should we leave it on?”

“Try it.”

Rami flicked the switch and the room was plunged into darkness, but after a few moments, it was clear that the light from the vacancy sign was going to shine right through the damn-near sheer curtain covering the window.

“I think we’re okay—you locked the door, right?”

Rami fumbled along the door and double checked.

“Yup.”

I listened as he made his way back to the bed and he shuffled some sort of item of clothing off. When his cold feet accidentally connected with mine, I knew it was his socks.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “Can’t stand to sleep with socks on.”

“Me either,” I said to the wall I was facing.

Rami moved around in the bed, attempting to get comfortable and to keep an appropriate distance between our bodies, but when I moved, he gasped as all the covers moved with me.

“Sorry,” I groaned.

“I think this bed is clearly meant for one person.”

“Or two people as tiny as that old man.”

Rami chuckled, and then he sighed.

“There’s a solution . . . if you’re okay with it.”

“Lay it on me, Ram.”

Rami said nothing, but he rolled onto his side and pressed his body into my back. He adjusted his arms, eventually resting his left hand in the dip at my waist.

“At least I’m getting warmer now,” I said sleepily.

Rami took that as an invitation and snuggled in deeper, sliding his arm all the way over my waist so he could spoon me.

“I really am sorry for all of this,” Rami whispered into the back of my neck.

“I’m not,” I said, reaching for his hand and pulling it up between my breasts so I could clutch it to my chest.

Rami hummed contentedly, and we both drifted off to sleep.

[retroandreal]

Lose You (Darius x MC)

HAAAAAAAA!! This was sooo overdue... I’m so sorry for the people I disappointed (I’m sorry my discord family) This one took me a really long time cause I wanted to capture Darius’ angst during the whole ordeal of controlling his powers which took longer than expected... like 3 days overdue @official-alex-cyprin​ cause I love you, crouton loves you xoxox

AN: This was inspired by the song ‘Lose You’ by Eric Nam, who is like my favourite male singer.

Warnings; angst (i tried) and like a small soft smut scene which is more fluff than sinning smut... bye I’m leaving...

“I’m going to be leaving you for a while”

The shock on her face says it all. Shock? Betrayal? Confusion? I read her like an open book, but I just cannot bare to shut away our story yet. I am not the man worthy to be standing by her side, how can I when all I feel is the guilt of possessing a demon inside of me while being an assassin myself. I would take a thousand more beatings from Cal than to have her turn her back on me. This is why I have to do this; to be apart from you, so I can learn how to control the demons inside of me to keep you safe and carefree for the rest of time itself.

“Da-Darius… what about me?”

A single tear runs down the side of her face, catching the luminescent neon lights of the Ferris-wheel we ascended to the top of. A soft whisper comes out of her

“You can’t leave me, Darius…”

I dare walk the few paces that separate the distance between us. I silently ask for her permission to touch her, to wipe away the stray tear. She leans into my touch. It’s painful. I close my eyes to savor the feeling of her bare skin against the palm of my hand.  

Eyes wide shut, dreamin’ about you

“Listen, I’m not leaving you forever. But I will be leaving the old me behind; the Darius that is confused about himself, the Darius that is afraid of falling, the Darius that withers at the feeling of commitment. But I promise I will come back a better man. A man worthy to be standing beside you as an assassin, as Lust, as Darius Ricci and as yours. I will carry your love with me until I can bask in the feelings of being in your presence again. For now, though, I need to become that man you deserve.”

Hot blood rush turning a cold blue

She collapses her body inwards towards mine. So full of life yet trembling at the thought that she will have to live some time without her near me. The feeling of her softness and weight ebbs and flows through me like the calmness of the rooftop pool where we once made love. The smooth riding of the freight train where she and I made love again under the sapphire moonlight. Those moments in time will forever be suspended in my memory as I recall my forever known Lust being turned on it’s head and replaced by the foreign feeling of love.

“When will you come back to me, Darius?”

I let out a pained sigh.

“I don’t know yet, but I promise the moment I know when it’s right I will return to you”

I gently push her back but still keep a gentle hold on both her shoulders. Her trembling has receded, and her tears have all dried up; now looking at me, expectantly. She has opened my eyes to so many new things about this sinful world. One that I though that has been plagued by the demons. All my life I only knew how to be content with what I have. But she taught me how to love, and now I need to learn how to love myself again.

“I’m going to learn to love myself, so that I can love you”

Staring at perfection, I’m about to wreck it. It’s just something I gotta do

I need to start fresh with myself, come to terms with the demon inside of me that will always be threatening to take over my body. For the troupe, for myself, and for her.

I think I wanna lose you, just to find my way back to you

I give her one last kiss, desperate to relish in the feeling of her unrequited love she is so willing to offer to me despite all the ugliness that I have shown her, forced upon her.

Then I jump to the world below. Leaving my one true love where I once stood next to her.

I don’t wanna to let go, but I gotta let go

~~~~~

It’s been only a few days and I miss her already. The bleakness of this abandoned shipping container that I dare to call ‘home’ does nothing to calm my desperation to be next to her again. But I know I have to hold out, I need to become strong enough to stand next to her and keep her safe; from the demons around us and the demon within me that is constantly trying to claw its way from the chambers of my control and take over. Counting my days that I estimate to be in here, I decide not to continue living out of my duffle bag and unpack the bare necessities that I brought with me. Assigning the appropriate places of the minimal items that I brough I finally have enough courage to fish out the final thing out of the bottom of the bag; my blanket. Our blanket. The blanket that we both used while we riskily made love on the moving train that one night. I never felt as free as I did on that night; free to delve into the lust that I have always suppressed… finally letting it all out and carry the night with myself and MC in a long moment of bliss and love. I bundle the blanket to cover my face and I deeply breathe in; taking in its scent.

“Still smells like her”

You might think I’m some kind of crazy

I flop down on the sorry excuse of a bed and cocoon myself within the blanket, making myself an oasis in the form of a blanket burrito. If only she was here with me, it would be a perfect moment just shared between the both of us. In a sense, I always used sex as a tool to wield; to get close, to manipulate and even to use sex as a meaningless pastime. Sure, I hurt many women but something inside me knew that she was out there. Now, sex is a cherished moment between her and I, that I would never dare to share with anyone else. I want so badly to be sharing the same bed as you. I know you and can even so far as predict you; you’re lying in my bed, the only way you can physically be close to me without me being next to you. Trust me; I really want that too. But we can’t. You’re not safe with me.

I can’t blame you if you hate me, asking me “did you even love me?”

I adjust myself while suppressing the needy feeling of lust and make myself comfortable for another endless night of attempting to sleep… and as usual, sleep doesn’t come easy. Pulling my phone from the charging port, the bright light obstructs my vision as my eyes adjust to the sudden brightness. My lock-screen is so predictable; her and I on top of the very train, in our bare intimates and our blanket wrapped around us, her kissing my cheek and my fist pumped straight into the air. It’s amazing how different a week in time can become. Now I lay here… alone.

It’s just something I gotta do

~~~~~

"Fuck... that one hurt a lot"

I look at the burning flesh on my right forearm, leaking with the demonic green blood. Quickly rushing to the sink to assist in closing up the wound, the coolness of the water does nothing to soothe the pulsating ache of the newly open wound. Medical procedures were never really up my alley. Usually Malakai and his basic first-aid training paired with a few hours of bedrest did wonders for me. Recently, before my departure from the troupe, she was always the one who tended to our wounds... paying closer attention to me. Those gentle touches are what I miss on a daily basis; from the purposeful wound cleaning and firm bandaging to the teasing yet pleasurable touches she gave me whenever we had a moment to ourselves. Only she knew how to bring me to such climatic bliss. She knows my body so well, but not without due experience of exploring each other's needs and limitations. It's amazing how far the human body can be pushed to its limit. But never in my life as an aerial trapeze artist has my body ever been tested to its limit as far as my desperate attempt to control the clawing demon inside of me. It hurts. Everyday. But I deal with it.

I'm feelin' nothing, I'm feelin' nothing

I think of her every time. I have only been able to deal with the physical and mental pain because I know once all of this is over, I will be able to return to the troupe. To her. Most importantly. I can feel her again. She's aching and alone in my abandoned bed. I want to reach her, somehow. I break out one of Malakai's books that he loaned out to me just before I made my retreat into self-exclusion.

"Demonic projections... if I can just find the page... dreams, dreams, dreams... here! To enter a vessel's dreams..."

Usually, the demons abused this power of being able to interfere with a human's dreams. To drive them crazy. To manipulate them without even realizing. But I want to use this ability for my own lawful good; I want to see her again, even if it just in her dreams. I know she dreams of me, but she relives the moments where I left her on top of the Ferris-wheel all those nights ago. I stripped that happiness from her... it is my responsibility to bring that happiness back, and even give her a little bit of reassurance that I'm still living and breathing every day.

Dreamin' about you

"For the most painless intervention, the vessel must be in a slumber for the caster to remain uninterrupted or the rift will cause major disruption to one's state of wellbeing" I stare at the paragraph

"Well... fuck me... I hope you're dreaming of me..."

Because I always do

Every night

Since we broke up

I think I wanna break up, just to make it all up to you

~~~~~

Like a white, hot pain, the feeling of the demon scars rips through my flesh and permanently but figuratively scar mt face as if it were an actual indentation from a blazing iron rod. Marked; like the gullible cattle that the demons have rounded up and taken over with their presence and violating the souls of the sinning humans around them. I stare at my marked face in the mirror. It's much easier to force the marks off of my face now that I have been honing and controlling the demon inside of me. Plus, being away from the city of sin itself has allowed me to grasp onto the control i need to master dream interception and manipulation.

Ten past 3am, I know that she is sound asleep. I’ve been observing her sleeping pattern for the past week and a half all while practicing my powers. To her, it will seem like she had a lucid dream of me next to her; but I never talk to her, reach out to her, or call her name. No matter how many times she calls out my name, I know that we cannot be together in her dreams. No matter how many times she tries to reach out for me, I know that we cannot be together.

Just hold on, a little bit further.

See you touch, but I'm feelin' nothing

Not yet.

But I hold onto my projection in her dream as long as I can, before it starts to physically hurt.

"Come on, baby. I know you can see me!"

I start to feel my projection sizzle and dissolve away. She cries out in her dream and I feel her violently jerk awake in a cold sweat. I hastily return to my full form inside of my bleak shipping container.

So... close...

So... fucking... close...

"FUCK THIS SHIT!!"

I hurl the closest thing to me and peg it against the rusty, cold metal hearing the echoing clang of thick porcelain hit the tin and shattering across the floor. Running my hands through the tendrils of my already unkempt hair, I sit at the foot of my mattress, cradling my throbbing head in my hands before deciding that paracetamol is a more affective solution than whining like Avi when he has to go to bed before Ripley.

"Painkillers, painkillers... Fuck my head hurts like a bitch…"

I pop two in my mouth, dry-swallowing since I just shattered my only cup, and letting the exhaustion take over my body as I fall into a dreamless slumber.

I'm feelin' nothing

~~~~~

“Darius?”

I hear her.

“Darius… baby?”

Wiping the sleep away from my eyes, I turn on a full 360 axis and take in my surroundings. My… My room?

“DARIUS! It’s you!!”

“Wh- What...?”

My vision slowly becomes crystal clear as I can clearly make out the lines of a person. Not just any person, my person. My love, who I have been aching to see and touch for the past days gone by, in my dreams. No, our dreams. Her dainty stature and her signature, unique curves of her body spark the familiarity of her voice that blissfully echoes in my head. The features of her face are what captivate me the most, no matter how long it may be. Thirty minutes, waking up to her in the mornings or after the weeks and days we have been apart. I will never forget her. She is forever ingrained in my mind, and I need to remind her once again.

“I knew you would come back to me…”

She visibly sees how the past weeks have taken a toll on my body, the bags under my eyes and the slight discoloration of my skin. She silently asks permission before she paces the room and jumps into my outstretched and waiting arms.

“Baby, you don’t know how long I have been waiting to finally touch you…”

“Heh… I can tell”

She shoots me her cute but minx-like smirk. She’s the only one that can make me become like this; a blushing mess. But I’m not going to lie that she is the only one that can make be feel this way. Sure, the sex I’ve had up until was nice, but she takes it to a whole other level. She can undo me with just a flick of her wrists… or tongue. She has put a spell on me, one that I cannot fathom, but I don’t want it to end. I shoot her my own signature smirk back.

“Well my angel, what are we going to be about it?”

“Later… this is a dream, right? Where exactly are you?”

I know what she’s doing, she’s trying to bait me. She wants to find me, help me.

Not now.

“Far away from Vegas, but right now I’m here with you. And that’s all that matters”

I’m in California, you, you out in Georgia, but we’re both in the same room

I kiss her, with everything I have. And not long after all our clothes, except for our most intimates are sprawled across my bedroom floor. We’re both panting messes by the time we separate ourselves from each other to catch our breath.

“God! I’ve missed you so much, your skin on mine and the way you touch me”

“Oh yeah? Well, we’re in for a long night you and me”

I slowly place feather-like kisses down the ravine of her breasts, lightly teasing her to hear that sinful reaction out of her.

“O-Oh! Darius!”

Not yet, my love.

Travelling closer to her belly-button, I marvel at her toned stomach and the slight build of muscle that is slowly peeking its way through her Adonis and eventually eyeing my final destination. Hovering over where I want to be the most. I place kisses on each side of her pelvic bones in between my words.

“Try to resist, MC. It will make the experience so… much… more… memorable”

~~~~~

Basking in the afterglow of our many rounds of lovemaking and pent-up lust, a sheen of sweat covering our entire naked forms, still calming down from the multistory climaxes we brought each other to. The tips of the Nevada sand dunes slowly give way to the blistering desert sunrise. Our time together in our dreams is nearly up.

“Are you coming back to me anytime soon, Darius?”

“Baby, I don’t know. I still don’t trust myself to stay sane around you. I sometimes just find my markings on my face while just working out in my room and I go into a demonic rage. I’m so, so sorry MC”

But if I stay with you, we won’t make it

Stroking the nape of my neck, she places her intoxicating feather-like kisses across my collarbones leaving her precious marks all over me.

She sighs.

“That’s ok, Darius. I’m just happy you’re safe”

The familiar warmth of her body slowly starts to dissolve, replaced by a white, hot and painful rage. It’s calling to me again.

Please.

Just a few more minutes.

With her.

“Darius! You’re fading!!”

“I know, my love. I’m losing you again…”

“Please…” she cries behind her rolling tears.

She grasps onto the remainder of my solid fingers, not before my body turns into a translucent representation of me.

“I promise, I will make it up to you”

I think I wanna break up, just to make it all up to you

I say in a whisper before I disappear into nothingness… I manage to say one more thing, for her.

“I think I wanna lose you, just to find my way back to you”

I don’t want to let go

But I gotta let go

[joonsrack]

+PAIRING: Kim Seokjin x Kim Namjoon

+GENRE: SFW, slow burn, ficlet (do people use that term anymore?) mini series, attempt at crack and comedy.

+The one where Seokjin is a part time cop and a full time Namjoonsitter series: Part I | Part II | Part III

+WORD COUNT: ~1.7k

+SUMMARY: 

“Hands where I can see them.” Seokjin says calmly, and the man, albeit the extremely confused expression twisting his face, complies with him. He shoots his hand in the air, knocking over a plant in his hurry. It goes crashing to the ground with an ear-splitting sound, adding soil to the mess, and he winces for all of three second before he fixes his stare back on Seokjin with a frown.”

+WARNINGS: Mention of firearms, also i have no idea how police works.

There’s one important detail that leads them here, Seokjin pointing his service weapon in Namjoon’s direction while said man, surrounded by the broken remains of various objects, raises his hands in the air, an extremely confused expression twisting his face.

When people ask Seokjin about it later, he’ll answer it’s really all Jimin’s fault.

“Have you seen the new neighbour that moved into Jiho-hyung’s old apartment?”

“Hmmm, no. Since when?” Seokjin asks Jimin distractedly, pouring over some paperwork.

“Like two weeks ago? He’s the scariest man I’ve ever seen, but also the cutest, if that makes sense. He’s so small, barely taller than me.”

Seokjin only nods, not even looking at him, but it doesn’t deter his best friend and roommate.

“He thinks he’s slick with his tough tattooed guy attitude, but the other day I saw him feeding a street cat and his gummy smile literally blinded me.”

Seokjin turns to the next page, settling into his routine of nodding every few sentences, making mmhmmhh from time to time to spice it up a little.

“There’s always music coming out of there now, I think he’s some kind of musician?” Jimin says, a dreamy look on his face. “I think they actually know Jiho-hyung so that would make a lot of sense.”

If Seokjin was listening, maybe he would have caught the ‘they’. But he isn’t, so he doesn’t. And Jimin carries right on waxing poetry about their new neighbour’s raven black hair, never hinting again that there’s more than one person that moved in.

Which leads him to a few days later, leaving Hoseok behind in the patrol car to retrieve some documents he forgot home. He’s pushing his key into the lock when he hears a series of crashes coming from the door on the other side of the hallway.

It’s cracked open, but no light is filtering through, and Seokjin catches a glimpse of a shadow moving quickly inside.

It’s by habit that he investigates the noise.

He spots a tall silhouette inside, shoving things into a large black bag in a hurry; things that looks like expensive electronic equipment. There’s a smattering of broken glass scattered on the floor, reflecting the street light coming in from the window, and the man seems to completely ignore it, his heavy black boots cracking it into even smaller pieces with a crunch.

His cop instincts kick in, and in a second his service weapon is unlatched as he pushes the door slowly and takes a careful step inside, ready to stop this apparent breaking and entering.

The layout of the place is similar to his, so he easily locates the light switch. Once in position, he flicks the light on, throwing the room into sharp contrast, exposing the possible intruder who spins around, startled.

Small, black hair, tattoos had been used to describe their new neighbour.

This man is tall, with dark silver hair, and no tattoo in sight.

“Hands where I can see them.” Seokjin says calmly, and the man, albeit the extremely confused expression twisting his face, complies with him. He shoots his hand in the air, knocking over a plant in his hurry. It goes crashing to the ground with an ear-splitting sound, adding soil to the mess, and he winces for all of three second before he fixes his stare back on Seokjin with a frown.

“Hum, hey, officer. What brings you…here.”

“I could ask you the same question.” he answers, pointing his chin at the bulky bag which definitely contains expensive equipment, overflowing with it.

“Oh, oh. I see,” he says, looking at the bag, then at the remains cluttering the floor, and then at his own person dressed in all… black. He gulps. “This is not what it looks like. I hum, I live here.”

“No, a small man with black hair and tattoo lives here. I saw him around.” Seokjin answers with a no-nonsense look on his face.

“That would be my roommate, Yoongi. Hah. I guess that means you live in this building. Quick hack: Don’t let him hear you say he’s small. Now I’m rambling. Hum, I live here too.” There’s a small patch of sweat forming on the man’s forehead, and he’s getting crossed-eyed staring at the end of the gun’s barrel. Seokjin lowers it slightly, getting the feeling this man has literally zero ounces of evilness in him.

“Why would you be stuffing a bag full of expensive equipment in the dark while breaking things when you live here.” Seokjin asks with a raised eyebrow. “Doesn’t seems very logical. Looks more like burglary to me. Done by the least stealthy thief in history, I must say.”

“It’s very interesting that you say that, because touché, I’m not even remotely stealthy. And I’m definitely not a thief.”

“Feels like something a thief would say.” Seokjin snorts. “ So what where you doing then, in the dark, shoving things in a black bag with the speed of somebody who's ass is on fire?”

“Well, if you must know,” he says, lowering his hands slightly. “I’m late for a gig, I need my equipment, and in my hurry I broke a few things. Hence the lack of light.”

Seokjin spots the remains of the broken lamp on the floor.

“What the hell is taking you so- What the hell. Namjoon.”

Seokjin startles at the new voice, turning towards its source, and then lowering his gun completely. The new neighbour, who clearly knows the man standing in the mess before them, is standing in the doorframe.

With no gun held up to his face, the man —Namjoon— collapses in a chair like all his strings were cut simultaneously.

“What the hell. Why is there a police officer here. Did we get robbed?”

Now, if Jimin had mentioned more clearly the fact that more than one person had moved in, maybe this all wouldn’t have happened. But all he can do now is watch Namjoon explain the last 5 minutes to his friend with an embarrassed flush on his cheek. Or maybe Seokjin is just projecting.

Yoongi, he learned just a second ago, side-steps him to open the wardrobe, where he reaches for one of the countless boxes of lightbulb sorted on the top shelf. Like, so many.

“I’m extremely sorry for the misunderstanding,” he starts, hoping this will not get to the head of the police station. “I really thought someone was-“

Yoongi stops him with a hand, and he can see Namjoon finally getting up from his chair, going to grab a glass from one of the cupboard. From the look of it, their whole glass selection seems to be plastic, going from kids themed stuff to plain ugly coloured cups.

“A lot worse happened. Consider yourself a victim here.” Yoongi says, with no rebuttal coming from Namjoon. All he does is echo ‘A lot worse.’ in the background. He throws his cup of water back, hitting his head on the cupboard door he left open, and doesn’t even react to what must have been pretty painful judging by the sound of it.

“He’s an expensive boy to live with.” Yoongi says, screwing a new light bulb in after taking out the broken one. “I changed this one this morning.” He signs. “I would like to say it’s the first time he's broken something twice in the same day but that would be a lie.”

Seokjin nods, for the first time really looking at the man.

His black tank top show off how he’s covered from head to toe with bandaids and bruises, and Seokjin can deduct it’s all accidentally self inflicted. His black tank top also hints at a nice body, his arms on the good side of defined; his black skinny showing some interesting thighs and cal-

Yeah, no; objectifying someone on duty, someone he almost just arrested, might be a bad idea.

His radio chooses that moment to come to life, Hoseok’s voice bursting through with static.

“Hyung, you’ coming? It’s taking you forever.”

“I’ll be down in a sec,” he answers, holding the radio to his mouth.

The two man have now their attention fixed on him, and Seokjin realizes he’s been standing on the same spot for the whole… clusterfuck.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you two around.” Seokjin says awkwardly, taking a step toward the door, where he feels the air might be easier to breath, less charged with embarrassment.

“Wait.” He hears Namjoon says, and he turns around, hoping he’s not about to be sued.

“Hum, we’re really late to our gig,” He says nervously “Can we, perhaps, get a ride to the subway station?” He asks, eyes getting wide, like he’s trying to look adorable. Maybe it’s guilt, maybe it’s something else, but it’s definitely working on Seokjin.

“I- hm, It’s a little against the rules.” He tries to answer.

Yoongi looks at him with an evil glint in his eyes, and Seokjin just knows he’s about to be guilt tripped to hell.

“I mean, it’s not like you just traumatized my friend by pointing a gun at him and made us incredibly late to our gig. You know, our livelihood that makes it possible to replace all the shit he breaks. Oh, and also pay the rent.” He says with no infliction. Hello satan.

Namjoon has dropped the puss in boots impersonation and looks like he wants to intervene, but his friend throws him a look that could literally cut diamond. Seokjin absolutely understands what Jimin meant by scariest man he’s ever seen, he's just not seeing the cute part of his friend's follow up statement. There's nothing cute about this man, Seokjin thinks.

“Ok, fine. Sure.”

“With the lights.”

Seokjin sputters indignantly. Because that wasn’t Yoongi asking, but Namjoon.

“What?”

“We’re really late.” He shrugs, biting his lips. “We might not even make it if you take us to the subway.”

Seokjin sighs, rubs his eyes.

“Tick tock” Yoongi says irritably.

He can’t believe he’s being manipulated by two strangers into giving them a ride in the police cruiser. Hoseok will have a field day.

“We’ll take you to the wherever you’re performing, but no lights.” He settles on.

Yoongi grins meanly, and Namjoon gives him an apologetic smile, popping a dimple.

And for a second, Seokjin marvels at how deep it looks; has to hold back from poking his finger in it.

But, nope. Still in uniform.

[urdbell18]

Those Moments in Between Chapter 2: Boo to You

AN: So I’m not sure how often I would post new chapters but I’m starting a new project (not writing related) and decided to post this chapter before I completely forgot about this. Also I want to hear from you guys. I want to know what you guys want to see. My box is open and ready for your ideas. Everyone stay safe out their and enjoy.

Mary wouldn’t admit it to Zelda, not when the other woman had so much on her mind already, but she was nervous. She had never taken care of a child as small as Vida and though Vida seemed to like her that could all change in a heartbeat. This was the first time that the two of them would be alone together, without Zelda. To say that Mary was under some significant pressure was an understatement. This one night could make or break her budding relationship with Zelda. Was she overreacting? Maybe. Was it justified? 100% Mary hasn’t known Zelda long but the one thing that Mary did know was that Vida came first. If tonight went south that was it, she was done.

So far things seemed to be going okay. Vida took to her mom leaving very well and was still excited about going out for trick or treating. If that’s what Vida wanted then so be it. Well… trick or treating was part of the deal but Mary wasn’t going to force Vida to do something that she didn’t want to.

The advantage of Greendale being such a small town was that everything was in walking distance. From the town center you could easily walk to any of the housing neighborhoods. That made things a whole lot easier for Mary, she could park her car in one spot and not worry about its safety or where she left it. Mary managed to convince Vida that they should start with the furthest neighborhood.  As they approached the first house Mary turned to Vida.

“Do you remember what you have to do Vida?”

“Yes. I ring the doorbell and wait for someone to answer and then I say ‘trick or treat’. Right?”

“Very good. And what do you say after they give you treats?”

“Thank you and happy Halloween!”

“Excellent! Your golden.”

“But my dress is black.” Vida looked herself over, yup everything was black. Her dress, her tights, her shoes. What was gold?

Mary mentally slapped herself. Of course Vida wouldn’t understand. Mary stumbled on her words for a second. She paused and took a deep breath, she can’t let this phase her.

“It’s nothing Vida. Are you ready?” Vida nodded causing her pigtails to bounce from one side of her shoulders to the other. They walked up to the house, Mary hung back but kept a close eye on Vida as she stepped onto the porch. Vida turned to look at her, there was a tiny bit of fear on her face. “It’s okay I’ll be right here. You got this.” With a small smile Vida turned back to the door and rang the doorbell. A few minutes passed by until a middle aged woman with wheat colored hair that was in a neat bun answered the door.

“Trick or treat!”

“My aren’t you precious. Is this your first time?” Vida nodded.

“Yes, but my mommy sometimes lets me help my Auntie Hilda hand out candy. She works at the bookstore.”

“Dr. C’s? I think I know who you are talking about. And since you are my first trick or treater I have a special surprise for you.” Mary tensed and stepped closer to Vida. Though this woman didn’t set off any alarm bells it never hurt to be overly cautious. And if anything happened to Vida Mary was sure she would never see the light of day again and her body would never be found. The woman brought out a spellbook but when she opened it several large candy bars were nestled inside. Vida’s face glowed bright and she turned to Mary and then back at the woman.

“I can really have one!?” The woman nodded. Now came the hard part, which one? Mary scanned the bars over. They were all pretty basic, none of them contained nuts or a filling, but some had extra like the big Crunch and Kit Kat bars.

“These seem to be a good option Vida.” Mary brought Vida’s attention to the king size Hershey milk chocolate and dark chocolate bars, they were the simplest and would most likely appeal to Vida’s pallet. Vida looked between the two bars clearly torn between which one she should get. The woman smiled softly.

“How about this. I give you both but promise you won’t eat them both at once. I don’t want your mom hunting me down.” The woman looked at Mary and gave her a wink. Did she just... no... but she had to…

With her candy bars in hand Vida tried to fit them in her plastic jack o'lantern bucket with little success. Mary chuckled and held out the tote bag that she brought with her. Did she expect to fill the whole bag? No, Zelda might murder her. But Vida’s bucket wasn’t very big and would fill up pretty quick. The tote bag was there to help with that, as well as hold the flashlight that Mary brought with her just in case. Vida got the hint and placed the bars in the bag.

“Thank you very much! Happy Halloween!”

“Happy Halloween!” Vida and Mary waved the woman goodbye. One house down several more to go.

______________________

Mary decided to call an end to the trick or treating at seven. They have been out for a few hours and Vida was starting to get tired. They took a break when they finished the first neighborhood but that only stalled the problem for a little while. Halfway through the town center Vida started to complain that her feet were hurting. While yes she was tired it was bigger than that. Her shoes were physically hurting her. Mary understood and called it a night, she picked Vida up and walked back to her car. Despite that, Vida had a pretty good haul. She had to empty her jack o’lantern twice and it was half full when they called it quits. It stacked up to a nice size pile that Mary could just see Zelda scowling at.

When they arrived at Mary’s house Mary helped Vida remove her tights to see if there were any injuries. The back of the poor little girl's ankle was scraped up. It wasn’t bleeding but it looked pretty raw. After relieving Vida of her shoes they had some dinner. Mary wasn’t a cook by any means so the best she could manage was pasta with some sauce. Vida didn’t make a big fuss. While Vida was eating Mary went through the backpack that Zelda left for Vida. Inside was a change of clothes, pajamas, a stuffed bear, a blanket, hairbrush, toothbrush and toothpaste in a zip lock bag, and a DVD, a double feature of The Addams Family. What wasn’t in there were bath supplies so Zelda wasn’t expecting Vida to bathe while she was with Mary but Mary decided to let Vida decide.

“Vida did you want to take a quick bath or shower? I can get the movie set up while you do that.” Vida tilted her head back in thought.

“What’s a shower?”

“It’s like a bath but you stand and the water comes down in a continuous spray.”

“I still don’t understand but I’m willing to try it.” Okay, alright, now what?

Deciding that it would be too inappropriate for her to be in the bathroom with Vida Mary got the bathroom ready. She started the shower, laid out a towel, and left Vida’s pajamas on the counter top. The last thing she did was brush out Vida’s braids, if she left them in water would get trapped and it would dry stiff. With one last check of the water temperature, it was ready for Vida.

“Okay Vida it’s all set up for you. There’s some soap and a sponge on the wall and I have a towel laid out for you. I don’t have any shampoo for you so don’t worry about washing your hair. Don’t worry about shutting the shower off. I’ll do it. I’ll be right outside if you need me. Okay?” Vida looked at her, she was a little scared but nodded. In she went, the door closed softly behind her. Five minutes later she was out, dressed in her pajamas and hair laid out on her shoulders in damp ringlets. “Finished?” Vida nodded.

“It was nice. Thank you Mary.”

“You’re welcome. I’m going to get changed myself so you can wait here for me or you can head downstairs if you like.” Vida nodded and she brushed past Mary to head downstairs. Mary gave a sigh of relief when she shed her Gomez costume. Between the stiffness of the actual costume and the clip digging into the back of her head it felt nice to let the slight breeze that was in her house wash over her. She really wanted to shower but decided that she couldn’t leave Vida on her own for that long. She would just have to live with her cotton sleep shorts and tshirt and her robe. It still felt refreshing. Vida was on the couch when she came downstairs. She wedged herself between the pillows and her bear was on her lap.

“So how about that movie?”

“Yes!” Mary didn’t need to be told twice. Turning on the DVD player Mary popped in the movie. She debated on whether or not she should make popcorn but decided against it. She didn’t want to feed Vida too much and make her sick nor did she want to end up on Zelda’s bad side. They made it though half of the first movie before Vida was out like a light. Mary carried her upstairs and settled her in the middle of the bed with the comforter tucked around her. It was still too early for Mary so she went back downstairs. After some light cleaning Mary poured herself a glass of wine and picked up the book that her W.I.C.C.A. club was reading, The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison. Rosalind Walker already read the book, led a protest on the books ban which was why they were reading it. Mary wanted the group to touch on the elements of the actual book as well as the politics behind it, mainly why it was banned. It wasn’t a school requirement nor a group one, participation was purely voluntary. Mary was proud to be a part of it. Though it wasn’t a school read, Mary was treating it as such so her plan was to read it once, absorb it, and then make notes. As the advisor she felt obligated to be prepared.

At around eleven her eyes started to get tired. So she finished the chapter that she was on and called it a night. There was a little bit of wine left so she downed it and then placed the glass in the sink to soak for the night. That’s when there was a knock on her door. How odd. Her house was out of the way, so she wasn’t the one to get casual visitors. With caution she opened the door and was met with an exhausted Zelda Spellman. Mary wasn’t expecting to see Zelda, and she definitely wasn’t expected to be kissed within an inch of her life but you won’t see her complaining. However, they didn’t have the pleasure for things to escalate any further. It was late and Vida was just upstairs. Mary led Zelda upstairs and set her up with some night clothes just like she did on their first date. Mary climbed into bed but waited for Zelda. Vida murmured a little and scooted closer to Mary. When Zelda climbed into the free side of the bed she leaned over Vida to give her a quick kiss and then kissed her daughter’s cheek goodnight. Mary settled down and before she knew it was fast asleep.

__________________

When Mary woke up the bed was empty but the house didn’t feel empty. Though it was faint, Mary could detect some noise coming from downstairs. Mary followed it and was kind of taken back. Vida was on the couch, the movie playing where it left off last night. Zelda was in the kitchen, the smell of freshly brewed coffee and the sound of bacon simmering in the pan wafted from the kitchen. Vida was the first to notice her. She smiled and held her bear close to her chest.

“Morning Mary!” That caught Zelda’s attention. She smiled softly at her.

“Morning.” Mary nodded and made her way over to Zelda. On her way she ruffled Vida’s hair. Vida pulled back but she giggled and remained smiling. When Mary reached Zelda she hesitated. Though they have slept in the same bed and Vida has witnessed some moments between them that line hasn't been laid out yet. What was considered okay and what was considered inappropriate? That was up to Zelda, and Zelda decided that kissing was okay. She kissed Mary squarely on the lips and Mary was totally okay with that. She knew enough that it couldn’t escalate any further than that, it couldn’t be like last night, and that was okay too. Mary returned it, kept it nice and simple, that was enough.

“What are you making?”

“Eggs, bacon, and pancakes. I figured you earned a little reward for what you did last night.”

“It was no trouble. It was fun. Hey Vida!” Vida’s tiny head popped up over the armrest of her couch. “Do you want to show your mom all the candy you collected?” Vida nodded enthusiastically and scrambled to get the tote bag that Mary left near the front door. She brought the bag to the table and dumped it onto the wooden surface. The result was a good sized mountain made of pure sugar and chocolate. And Zelda turned as white as a ghost.

Mary was right, she did give it the scowls to end all scowls. Vida just smiled and Mary popped a candy corn into her mouth to try, and fail, to hide her smirk. Zelda turned the scowl onto her and her smirk cost her being hit in the hip with a kitchen towel.

Worth it.

[interstellarflowers]

peter parker x reader | i want you to know |  chapter three

i want you to know | chapter three: his/yours

chapter one | chapter two | chapter four | masterlist

a/n hey everyone, sorry this took so long i hope you guys like it thank you for being so patient you’re all the best

t/w angsty as per usual, cursing, self-destruction

unedited 

    “Didn’t anyone tell you that you have a bedtime?” 

    There he was again, with his jokes and his childish banter, how could he maintain such a positive front after all that’s happened?

    “Didn’t anybody tell you that I’m seventeen and can make my own choices?” 

    “Seventeen.” 

    You fall silent for a moment, of course, you were aware that you were seventeen, but you were also aware that most seventeen-year-olds haven’t had to carry part of humanity on their shoulders. Most seventeen-year-olds didn’t have a company to take over, most seventeen-year-olds didn’t have a world-renowned legacy to live up to, and lastly, most seventeen-year-olds didn’t have to compete with the Spiderman for this legacy. 

    “...Didn’t anybody tell you that I don’t have any parents to give me a bedtime?” You choked out. 

    Peter shot you this-this look. You didn’t even know how to describe it. Seven different emotions flooded through his face at once and you didn’t know if you should prepare to be yelled out, completely shut down, breakdown or jump off the fucking building.

    Peter doesn’t do any of this, he just sits down next to you because he’s gentle because he’s quiet because he just takes it. You detested this. You hated him for this. Why? Why would he just take it? Why is he still fucking here?

    It’s quiet for a really long time. Part of you wanted to tell him that you’d go inside, that you’d go to bed. You wanted him to leave. Part of you just wanted to make a nice conversation, to make him feel better, to get rid of a silence that was no longer so comfortable. Silence was better than lying.

    “I lost Mr.Stark too,” Peter looked across the city with you, “I lost him...I can’t lose you too.”

    The sun was rising, Peter was getting up.

    “Peter-”

    “I have to go.” 

    “Okay.”

    He was off, swinging through the tops of buildings, blending in with the sunrise.

    You never really thought about it. You saw the sunrise nearly every day, but you never really saw it. You were always so caught up in yourself that you ignored it. You ignored the mango orange and the wine red crashing into each other and giving way to the sky blue. You never stopped to notice the cotton candy clouds and the way that the stars faded away into the watercolor display from above. You were too caught up in what the world had lost, you were ignoring what the world gave to all every day. You never stopped to appreciate the gift that came every day, a new day. You never appreciated the gifts that every new day had brought...

    It was time to try something new. 

    Returning somewhere so familiar yet so unknown was always such an indescribable sensation. You ran your hand across the row of lockers that a year ago would just be a row of lockers to you, now they felt like something out of a fever dream. Fluorescent lighting was playing tricks on your eyes and the scent of the cafeteria flooded your nose along with the scent of whiteboard markers and floor cleaner. Your senses were in a frenzy and you were sure that you were seconds from breaking down-

    “(y/n)? You can come in now.” The principle motions you into his office with a pitying expression on his face. 

    The meeting was fine. Everything went smoothly, you transferred back over into Midtown High School just fine. Everything was fine, so everything should’ve felt fine...Why didn’t you feel fine?

    By the time you stepped out of the office, it was 6:54 am. Class was minutes away from being in session. The backpack that you used to wear every day suddenly felt like you were carrying a ton of bricks on your back. Everything felt so off, and that’s when you realized why. You looked around the hallways, really looked. Faces you used to see every day were unfamiliar. They all looked at you. They looked at you like you were some ghost, back from the dead, you certainly felt like it but you didn’t think that people would look at you like that. They all had these looks on their faces, indescribable, they all had such pitying and sad eyes. There were whispers. Some had something else in their eyes that made you miss the pitiful looks. It was like everything you had read online was glaring at you. It was like everything that everyone was saying was hitting you at once. It was a long walk to first-period chemistry. 

    Peter walked into school, another sleepless night, another restless day. Walking into school never seemed to become any easier, not when he knew what he left behind. He had left your side. He knew that you weren’t his responsibility, he knew that he didn’t have to watch you, but the thing was that that wasn’t what he was doing. You weren’t his responsibility, but you were his. On missions, you were always his teammate. On school projects, you were always his partner. In magazines, you were his alleged girlfriend. Throughout media, you were his partner in crime. Through life, no matter where you saw it or who you were hearing it from, you were always his something. He didn’t claim ownership of you, it wasn’t like that, he just missed you being by his side. He missed having your back, he missed you having his. He missed talking to you, really talking to you. He missed going to sleep and knowing that you were going to be fine. He missed knowing that you were fine.

    “Peter!” Ned hurdled towards Peter out of breath, “I’ve been looking for you all morning!” 

    At this moment Ned takes a good hard look at Peter. He looks at the ever-darkening bags underneath his eyes, how less lively they make him look, how this isn’t the Peter he used to know, how tired he looked, how burnt out, how...gone he looked. He wanted to say all of this to Peter, he wanted to tell him. He wanted Peter to stop, he wanted Peter to rest, but he didn’t, he couldn’t bring himself to. 

    “What is it, Ned?”

    Ned shook his head, 

    “It’s (y/n), did you see?” 

    Peter’s heart dropped into his stomach and his feet turned ice cold, 

    “(y/n)? Ned, what happened? I-I have to go, I have to get to her. I-”

    “She’s right there!” 

    Peter whipped around so fast he nearly snapped his neck, There you were. You still looked tired, you still looked gone, but you were here, and that was huge. Peter broke into the biggest smile, the first real one since the end of the war, 

    “(y/n)!” 

    You turned around to meet Peter’s eyes through the hoard of kids in the hallway. Peter looked at you, your eyes were still tired, you still looked drained and you had this...sadness, that always seemed to run through you, Peter felt so lost. The last time he had seen you here you had been so happy, you looked healthy, you were smiling, you were you, but now was now, because there you were. Looking at him, and he was looking at you. You gave him a small wave and Peter raced towards you, racing a little too fast, but he didn’t care, he needed to get to you. 

     Peers gave you both strange looks as Peter pulled you into a big hug, others gave you sympathetic looks.

    “You’re finally here! (y/n), this is huge! We have to celebrate, we-”

     Peter had been so caught up in the moment that he didn’t notice your social queues. He didn’t notice your closed up posture and he didn’t notice that you weren’t hugging him back. 

    “Peter, please let go of me.”

    “(y/n), I’m sorry, but, please-”

    “Let go of me, Parker.” 

    Peter let go of you, shattered. 

    Flash stared at the scene with a malicious glint in his eye, 

    “Don’t you know she has a boyfriend Penis Parker, or did he leave when Daddy left?” Flash shot you a nasty look, “Did Spidey leave when Daddy left with his money? Aww, don’t cry, I’m sure Penis Parker here-”

    “Shut the fuck up.” Peter glared at Flash, he had never been so done with somebody’s bullshit in his entire life.

    You glared at Peter and gave him a look that said ‘Don’t.’

    “Make me Parker.” Flash challenged Peter playfully as he stepped closer, he was testing Peter.

     Ned shot you a look and you both nodded at one another, even after all of your absence Ned knew when you meant, he wanted the same. Peter needed to step down. 

     “I will.” Peter lessened the distance, Flash was playing with fire. Peter knew what he was signing up for, Flash did not. Flash was testing the wrong person. 

    Ned shot Peter a look that said ‘stand down,’ Peter shot Ned a look that said ‘stand back.’

    You pleaded with Peter, you mouthed, “Please.” Peter looked away and brushed you off. 

    It all happened in a blur, it was like a nightmare, before you could even process what had happened Flash was being rushed into the nurse's office and Peter dropped his usual demeanor and was screaming. You couldn’t hear him, in fact, you couldn’t hear anyone. 

    It was just a broken nose, that was all it was right? No. It wasn’t just a broken nose. It was a broken nose caused by Peter. Your Peter.

a/n i hope you guys liked it! honestly i started to get super discouraged with this series and was wondering if anybody was even interested anymore since part two had significantly less notes than part one, but it doesn’t really matter even if just on person likes it, its still worth writing. sorry i as quiet for a while though something bad happened, but like i said ill get over it. comment or drop by my ask box to be added to any of my tag lists, thank you for reading!! also let me know if you guys want a playlist for this series??

tag list

@assemblemotherfuckers @heartbeats-wildly @editsbyjenny @stark-spiderling @loxbbg @joe-mazzello-is-my-dad @imslightlyconfused @eridanuswave @itsmoony

[rpausandwhatifs]

Sleepover|| AU Drabble; Shawna, Danny, Arina

Shawna had been rather solitary and busy with her midterms, and just happened to finally find time on one of her late nights were she was supposed to be studying or working on a project and thought about the invitation that Arina had extended to her about hanging out over the weekend to finally hang out and sleepover. The girl had basically thrown a tantrum because she had come back and wanted to see the other girl, to which she was surprised to be wanted so badly and it’s exactly what she could handle. 

Danny and Arina had spent countless hours together since he had picked her up from the airport. The couplet had decided to waste no time with their rare opportunity to see if their usual fun and antics still could be enjoyed even as a girl. It was better than they could have imagined, but Danny’s mind did wonder when the moments were still. Arina was everything he wanted and he still saw the man in flipflops. He could express what he felt and it seemed easier than the games and teasing they’d do to hide their affections under, probably because the male version held onto the fear that didn’t exist in Arina, it made this way more comfortable- almost too comfortable.

“Danny?” Arina asked while drying her hair with a towel, wrapping it around her and crawled over Danny’s bed to hear him, her body and face glistening with droplets of water and painted pink with blushing rosey skin. The man was not expecting her to crawl up because he was lost in his headphones, rolling tray in his lap while he rolled. The only thing that indicated her presence was the soft pressure of his arm getting lodged between her breasts. 

He quickly straightened up and pushed off one of his headphones, “A-A-Arina, back up sweetie, I almost dropped this-” he said, looking over slowly before exclaiming from noticing her lack of clothes, “Ah! My arm was caught in your..fun bags!” he erupts into giggling, “Put some clothes on, please.”

Arina gasped and looked down, throwing herself back on her knees, clutching herself as he explained, gasping and getting frustrated herself. “Danny~! I-I was trying to ask you something!” she lightly throws her fist down and as her hair materializes into a messy ponytail, “I’m still not used to having boobs, forgive me, my depth perception is off!” she argued, her chest undulating lightly, “Now that I have your attention, how about we have a sleepover!” she perked up.

“You’re here all the time, you live here! How does that not count as something other than a constant sleepover,” he teased.

“You’re right,” Arina mused staring quizzically at her bra, but threw it away for an oversized t-shirt on Danny’s floor, which immediately changed to a tighter crop top, her underboob on display, and a very cheeky pair of bikini-cut tidey whiteys that were pink with Danny’s favourite dinosaur littered about the fabric as 8-Bit figures. She turned to him after, still making a hard-thinking expression complete with her thumb and finger craddling her chin. Then the idea strikes her, rising a pointed finger and an exclamation point appearing above her, “We should tell Shaw to come! Oh I missed her so much! I slept over with her the last time and I had soo much fun!” She shakes her fists and her eyes closed as she bounced up and down. Danny had still been frozen at his favourite things appearing on Arina, worry about it only briefly since it would go back after she took it off. He was more enamored by her overall look and her voice. Once he heard Shawna’s name, and that she knows about Arina, he figured it would be good for all of them. He quickly searched the bed for her phone and handed it to her. While Arina called Shawna over with promises of a sleepover, Danny couldn’t get his mind off Arina and how his visual stimulation was normal, but his chest felt so tight while his body felt like adrenaline was pumping- even a small sweat starting to form. It was becoming more apparent he couldn’t deny how he felt. He just tried to focus on finishing his blunt and grabbing his container full of roaches and breaking them down for the last one. “She said yes!” Arina piped up and ran out of his room to the kitchen.

Danny was worried about someone seeing her, but their whole house knew of his...girlfriend? So, he finished his task before joining her popping popcorn in the kitchen. “I’m gonna Go Puff some more stuff, and I’ll get...what did you want to eat?” he asked, walking up to her while she sat on the counter, scrolling through his phone.

Arina initially got nervous when he came up because she was hyperfixated on waiting for the popcorn.The girl welcomed the warmth of his body and stared at him up and down, also seeing what food he was scrolling through to give herself a better idea. “Uhhm, I’ll eat whatever Shaw eats! She’ll be here soon anyway!” Arina shrugged speaking lower since Danny was so close. She couldn’t hide her blush and stress mark on her forehead. She could practically hear her heartbeat as she scooted closer to the edge and caught a whiff of Danny’s sweat and light cologne and was caught up on its must and sweetness, “Oh my god, Danny~...You smell amazing..” her body leas into his as she tries to inhale more.

“Wo-oo-woooaaahh! Arina!” Danny exclaims as his best friend was extremely close and throwing her body off the counter to smell him. He acted fast, getting his hands under thighs and her cheeks, grabbing on and pushing her up a little higher so she was perched. She pinned his hands down when she sat and it felt like her grip on his neck might make him woozy, but there he was: face buried Arina’s neck, but quickly retreated with the sweet smell of spring and fruit lingering on his nose. 

Arina was so intoxicated that she barely noticed that she was sitting on Danny’s hands, making her push her knees in to trap his waist. “Leigh Daniel Avidan...you dog!” she bit her lip, no longer hiding her blush. Her breath heavier in her voice she decided to test the waters, “Aren’t you supposed to handle delicate packages with care?”

“You wouldn’t really want me to grab you anywhere else,” he responded, stuck but also not running from the lingering scent or soft flesh and voice.

“Oh? I think you’re supposed to avoid going straight for grabbing my ass, just shows where your eyes have been,” Arina retorted.

“You keep..throwing your..fucking bouncy ass tiddies on me and you’re mad I grabbed your ass?!” he says exasperated, sliding his hands from under her, “And from my experience, girls don’t react well to big guys grabbing their waist.”

“You caling me a whimp?” Arina challenged.

“I’m saying that we shouldn’t be doing this in the kitchen-”

“Do it, do it, Dan! Fucking coward,” she cut him off and reached to hold his face, giggling with her elevated energy.

Danny didn’t back down, pressing his lips into hers, sliding his hands up her thighs until he met her hips and then waist, being sure to hold off on his heavy pressure as his thumbs pushed into her sides, fingers pushing into her lower back. He knew he had passed the tipping point and got into it, pulling her closer and deepening the kiss, knowing from the muffled moan from her end and her relaxing into his touch and throwing her arms around his neck. They quickly separated when they they heard the door being wrapped on, but not enough, “That’s...It’s Shawna. I gotta get the door dude...”

“Awh..” Arina said, making a pout, then thinking quickly, “Send her the code to get in.” She mentioned it, getting more lost in Danny’s hands and his scent.

“Arina...Come on-” he said, trying to fight her off.

“Do it or carry me with you...How’d you think I’ve been getting in Theta Mu, baby?”

“Just because you do it doesn’t make it right,” he argued with a scoff, simply grabbing her cheeks again and picking her up, walking over to the door and opened it for her.

“Oh my god,” Shawna giggled, taking a long look at Arina wrapped around Danny, coming in and closing the door. “Is that what we’re doing over here?” She asked as she took off her coat, following the two.

“You’re just in time actually,” Danny said over Arina’s shoulder as he returned to the kitchen, giving one cheek a playful slap, causing Arina to yelp, “We were popping popcorn and deciding what else else we’re ordering out.”

Shawna smiled at Arina’s noise, grabbing the popcorn bag and dumping it into the bowl on the counter, “OOOooo, I want some Asian food. Like I wanna fill up my palette with it!”

“That does sound amazing~” Arina joined turning her head.

“I know this cheap ramen and sushi place we can order from,” Shawna said getting close to Arina, “Hey Arina, are my hands cold?!” 

Danny laughed as Arina screamed from cold hands on her back, “Staaahhhp! Put me down!~” she exclaimed, making Danny put her down with a huff, only to get her waist grabbed by Shawna, the electricity of pleasure shooting through the girl, moaning softly as she was pulled into her, “Aaah~ So c-cold!~ Shaw!” she fought her off weakly before being let go and still recieveing a slap on the ass from her.

“Go and put some clothes on, babe,” Shawna said, laughing.

“This is as good as it gets, you know that!” Arina snapped back with a stomp.

“What’d she put on?” she asked.

“That’s my The Who t-shirt. The really big one, and it just-”

“Oh yeah, I know, I’m jealous because it’s made some of my clothes cuter,” Shawna replied to Danny, who takes the popcorn bowl and starts taking their party back to his dorm.

~

Danny, Shawna and Arina were strewn across his bed, their highs settling in as they watched TV. Shawna gave Arina a glance to see her intently playing on Danny's Switch with a blanket over her legs and headphones on. "Hey Danny," Shawna asks from the edge of the bed while she sat up. He looks over at her and raises an eyebrow.

"Heyy, Shawna, what's up?" he asked with a lazy smile, "Is the food coming?"

"No..not yet...but like..do you like like Arina too?" she questioned.

"Yeah, of course I do. I love her, but shush! I never said that..." Danny replied, then sitting up more too, getting the tray off his bed and allowing Shawna to crawl up onto him, "I love you, too," he cooed, kissing the girl's forehead and causing her to smile.

"Awh, Danny, that's sweet. I love you a lot...but like, would you fuck her?" she asked with a giggle growing in her throat, rolling onto her back off of him, looking up anticipating a response.

"Uhh, well  yeah duh, I'd fuck her right outta those..sick dino panties," he said a little slurred, "But like, it's still my best friend."

"So..you're saying that if if was Arin in dino panties, you still wouldn't?" she asked after the giggle escaped.

"No! It's that it's Arin!" he says, which triggered the both of them into a harsh laughing fit, then finding his breath, "There's still a whole blunt left by the way," he notes as he sits up and glances at the tray.

"Well let her and I earn it first, cus fuck I'm like trying not to be a damned vegetable," Shawna whined a little as she pushed her hair back.

"How would you wanna earn it?" he asks, turning his body in a complete 180 to be criss-cross applesauce next to Shawna, seemingly upside down to her, "You wanna play for it, babygirl?" He smiled while he playfully pinched her cheek and she slunk to the middle of the bed before sitting up and crawling to his shoulder, causing him to give her another peck on her forehead. She kissed his neck, then pushed a finger on his jaw and pulled him in for a slow and electric kiss that caused her heart to beat out of her chest with excitement that sent a wave of pleasure through her body, "You're right, I forgot my manners, hey honey bunch, how've you been?" he asks, realizing how late he was with catching up on Shawna's life. She shrugged and began trailing kisses down his neck, settling on a spot and taking a curious hand to his lap, which made him catch on to what she was saying, but let his awkwardness get the better of him and he huffed nervously as he began to squirm from her touch making his bulge harder to hide, "Hm?" he turned to her and gave her a few more kisses when he gently grabbed her head, "Mmh-Mmh, tell me, baby," he shook his head and touched their noses together and she caressed his face with her thumb and booped his nose.

"Ok, but seriously, it's been hectic...Like I've been reading and putting together sources for the general topics of my thesis, and shit like that..." she explained, never stopping her hand and trailing off and she studied his expression changes from her working at his flesh. Both of them pushing their hair out of their faces as they found a little break from what they had started, "So was the sleepover your idea or hers?"

"Arina's, she really wanted to hang out with us. And I'm not sure she knows about...us..." he replied, hesitantly, struggling to think due to his high and the fact that his cock and began to throb from Shawna's touch uncontrollably. The both of them had looked over at Arina, who was still completely immersed in her game. Shawna turns back to Danny with a warm smile, "She really is adorable," he said to the air, mindlessly rubbing little shapes into her side.

"Adorable enough for a little romp?" Shawna asks, making her voice cuter and slower, turning her head towards him again, feigning a pout as she continued aimlessly massaging him.

"Sh-Shawna~ c-come on!" Danny said as he was overwhelmed, taking her hand into his and stopping it, "You're such a horndog..I-It's Arina we're talking about here, and..I.uh-"

"I already did that...why do you think she called me here? At some point tonight, your dick is gonna give her the aheago face. And it's pretty fun. She's hella into stuff and clearly if she sought me out then nothing has changed between us, if that's what you're worried about," Shawna jumped up with her frank enthusiasm, hoping to make him more comfortable, "ALSO! Now. Stay with me here. You get to have live lesbian porn in front of you. You can touch, you can play..if you say, I'm always yours!" the girl half-joked, erupting in a laughing fit with Danny and fell back to the end of the bed, staying there.

"How are you gonna fuck her and you're stoned?" Danny argued, "You would laugh more than you would cum."

"Then sober me up and make me cum, baby," she challenged him, sitting up on her elbows and raising an eyebrow while she shook her knee.

"Well I don't believe you swapped bodily fluids with her, so maybe...show me?" Danny, trying not to hesitate while thinking of how to engage but also indulge Shawna. His member started to pulse from the sheer though of the two having sex in front of him.

"You dare me?" Shawna asked.

"You know what? I triple-dog dare you to get under that blanket and..I dunno, work your magic I guess!" he said, not meaning to sound more enthusiastic, but couldn't laugh off his nervousness because the girl had disappeared, crawling to his blindside and pulling him in for another slow kiss before he bounced back by deepening the action, caressing her cheek and almost falling into her so that he could find his relief before she pulls away, putting up a finger to his lips.

"Your wish...is my command, just watch and learn, baby," she said, moving back and positioning herself under the blanket where Arina couldn't see her sneaking underneath and using her fingers to feel her out and tease her folds, kissing up her thighs.

"Sh-Shaw..hah~..what're yahhh~" Arina said when she noticed the girl digging under the blanket, gasping and trying not to moan, pulling her headphones off, blush escaping her cheeks, "F-f-f-f-ffuck, Shawna, slow d-do-down~" Although being caught off guard, Arina felt the electricity of Shawna's movements, her hips lifting a little, not realizing that she had forfeited her underwear, feeling the warmth that shot her pleasure higher, exclaiming to the ceiling and slinking down a little more. She almost forgot about Danny until she opened her eyes again panting and covered her mouth. Her moans became rougher while Shawna continued, her back arching as she saw the girl push the blanket off of her, locking eyes as she looked down, "Oh my gosh~s-s-so good~" she breathed, hearing Shawna's moans against her bud, her hand sliding off her face and push her hair back, the other holding Shawna's crown section of hair.

Danny was in a state close to euphoria and peak arousal as he watched the girls, trying to let his nervousness flow as his legs shuffled over to get a closer look at Shawna and Arina. It was stunning and beautiful to just observe how pleasure flows through them. The control and aggression Shawna exhibited was so unlike what he'd seen her to be, even as a co-head of her house. Arina looked nothing like Arin while she rolled her hips and squirmed in Shawna's hands and began to really envision himself in her mouth, just to start, he wanted to keep her mouth busy if it was going to be open wide like that. He just wanted to savor his view before finding a place to start in on. Arina's playful noises had been superseded by her moans and rushed words in response to Shawna, and Danny was engulfed by it as his hardened cock being touched without his knowledge caused him to shift, then gasped. Instead of jumping, he melted into Arina's hand, a gruff groan as she stroked him through his pajama pants. He was still very hesitant although his hips were moving with her and let her have control. Arina's gasp at his rigid organ trapped in cloth was deep and curious, her lip curling in as Shawna's fingers found her sweet spot pushing a long moan in her throat. Danny finally caves as he yanks down his pants and boxers, allowing his member to flex free, and taking Arina's hand and enclosing it on him, groaning into the ceiling.

Arina tried her best to keep a rhythm since Shawna had raised her head slowly to pump her fingers to keep Arina's pleasure, biting her lip as she watched Danny finally joining and an idea brewing in her head, She looked at him and Arina while she continued to play with Arina's bud and curl into her g-spot, wearing her down into an eruption of cries, moans, and rambling. Upon her pleas that she was close to an orgasm, Shawna double down, making her let go of Danny and throwing her hand down onto the discarded blanket as she gripped it and arched her back. Danny was surprised but almost relieved as he had been extremely close to his first orgasm just when Arina let herself go and released him. He let out a stuttered moan as he watched Arina's back arch while Shawna watched on with a devious smirk.

Once she finished, Shawna rose and looked at the pinked skin on the girl. 'Aw, don't worry Danny you're gonna cum," she said, rising and getting off the bed, stripping quickly while she grabbed her bag and taking out long pink toy encased in a plastic bag sticking one end in her mouth as she came back to the bed.

"W-what are you gonna do w-with that?" Danny asked as he removed his bottoms and kept his shirt on for the time being, his brain fogging as Arina went to curiously pump his erection and thought deeply about putting it in her mouth.

"Mmmmmmh, probably see if she can do two things at once, or squirt, because I think that would be really cute," she said casually, tapping the girl and motioned for her to move so that she was positioned under the both of them and propped up just enough to take Danny dick into her mouth if she chose. "Where'd you wanna cum, Danny baby?" she asked before she finished lubricating the dildo and prepping Arina.

"Uhh..who wants it?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked down and carefully took a hold of Arina's head and opening her mouth so that he slid in, "Fuck~ Shawna you're the guest babe..how about you?...E-Easy on the teeth, Arina," he mentioned quickly as his breath hitched, realizing he had to teach her how to suck dick as he went along. He stopped her when Shawna finally inserted the toy as far as it'll go feeling the vibrations of her moans on his cock and hummed happily, pushing her hair away as she looked at him. "You like being used like this? You're gonna suck my cock good, right babgirl?" he asked, slowly moving her head back and forth on his shaft while she hummed a yes and locked eyes with him. Arina was beyond excited and could barely contain herself when she had seen that Shawna was prepared and had a goal in mind that she never considered, let alone if she could do it. She was absolutely struck by how gentle Danny was being and how turned on by how sexy it looked and sounded. She watched Shawna take her leg up and mount herself to the other end of the toy and felt the push on her end. It sunk in at that moment that she was trapped between the two of them, her focus being switch once she felt Danny's warm hand on her breast, exposing it and playing with her nipple, which made her cry from the pleasure it sent through her body.

"She looks like a real slut..I can't wait for her to make me cum," Shawna smiled as she slowly began to move, biting her lip and letting a soft moan escape, "Well, Danny..you have to pick which one you wanna see~ You wanna watch her squirt all over this bed or see if she can swallow your cum while I fuck her?" she asked, taking his free hand and placing it on her own breast.

"Uhhmmmhh mmhh~ make her make a mess first. I wanna turn you into my cum dumpster," he said after thinking it over, interrupted by a moan before he said anything, "I want her to watch you and understand how I'm gonna fuck her for teasing me so much."

"Oooo~ I can't wait, baby," Shawna replied excitedly, picking up speed a little as she heard Arina's whines, "You heard that Arina? You're gonna fucking cum for me, baby~" She played with her now swollen bud as she thrust and rolled her hips on the girl, causing Arina to be quiet at times and then her noises ramp up as edging her. She tries to be mindful of her movements so that the blowjob Arina gives is somewhat enjoyable. 

Danny was trying extremely hard not to fuck her face, “U-use your tongue..there you go..g-g-good girl..” He was moving her moderately and careful not to push too hard, but he was in a state of euphoria that was only because it was her. Arina giving him eye contact as she watched the man fall under her spell and she couldn’t control her moans, even through her orgasm as she backed off and took a breath before shuddering through the orgasm that crept on her via Shawna’s thrusting, which made her smile when she heard the girl’s familiar moans and cries.

Danny moves away from Arina so he can give attention to Shawna, giving her a a long kiss while they heard Arina enjoy herself with Shawna’s hips. He held her head and touched their foreheads while he watched the girl get lost in her pleasure. "Such a good girl...Feels good?..Look at me. Does my good girl wanna cum for me?" he asked, pleasantly surprised at the assertion in his tone, and the dominance flowing through him as she nodded her head frantically, sounding very desperate as she agreed when she felt Arina's hands on her body.

Arina was absolutely taken by the sight of Shawna being under Danny's control while she heard the girl's whines and soft gasps from Danny's soft words. Her pleasure spiking at his dominance and Shawna simply melting from it, she didn't blame her, it was so unlike him that she would too. The girl studied her body a little longer and then shifted a little to sit up, taking her hip with one hand that rested on her back, the other snaking between Shawna's legs to give her extra attention, "Mm..Her turn first~" she smirked as she worked her front and took control of the thrusts, effectively drawing her closer to orgasm and watched as it wracked her body, merciless to Danny's mouth on her neck. Arina bit her lip while she watched, realizing her own arousal was becoming way too potent to ignore, but just wanted to edge it a little further as she looked at her hands and kept them there while she let Shawna ride out her last waves. Not long after, Arina was at it again, hearing the familiar feminine gasp and her hurried whines and begging to Danny was he simply soaked it all in. It was so powerful that Arina barely noticed her own soft hums as her hips slowed down again since tipping Shawna over the edge was easier this time.

Shawna couldn't have asked for anything better as she came down from her euphoric chamber to see Arina underneath her, but shot her an evil smirk as she looked back towards Danny and took his head in her hands, "I think it's her turn now...I got something that'll definitely turn her into a busted pipe!" Danny nodding into their slow kiss as her hands freed both of them of the pink toy between them and then leaning over her bed to grab the assembled piece: blue, slightly larger and only one sided. Shawna took the time to get herself ready while Danny watched until Arina rose and stood on her knees in front of Danny, which he smiled before taking her hand and making her stroke him lightly.

"I-I've never done it before..W-w-what if I can't..~" Arina asked, gasping when Danny surprised her with his gesture, picking up where he left off.

"If I can get it out of Shawna, then I have no doubt you can...you just gotta relax and remember to breathe..It's like cumming really hard, and you'll probably barely notice with my dick down your throat," Danny explained, landing plush kisses on her bare skin, whispering in her ear and causing her to gasp, throwing her hand over her mouth. She was still blown away at his change up that although it was very arousing to hear, it didn't even seem like Danny of all people would utter such words. He pulls her closer briefly to kiss her shoulder before tapping it and letting her know to lay down "And might I say you have the cutest little pink lips..."

"Danny, spit roast or side winder?" Shawna asks, sizing Arina up and coming over to place her hands on her waist as she moves forward when Danny moves back, lining herself up to tease her a little and running curious fingers across her lips while she's on her knees.

"Spit roast. It'll go straight down, just get a towel- actually.." he grabs his large towel from the end of his bed and throwing it underneath Arina, "There," he mentions before lining himself to her mouth, "Remember..don't go too hard. I'm saving my nuts for you."

"I won't~ not like it'll take much," she mentioned, spreading her lips and teasing her finger by pushing against her spot and hearing the gasps and cries starting already, "You're so fucking wet, baby.." She used her extension to tease her hole and lubricate it before pushing in lightly and pulling her back to keep her from leaning forward too much, hearing more sounds. Once she got a few pumps and found a comfortable way to focus her spot, she started with moderate long strokes first, hearing Arina groan from the intensity.

Danny smiled and welcomed Arina servicing him, especially when the pace was set by Shawna's hips. He sat back a little with a deep growl as he tried to keep his own promise to Shawna, pushing his hair back again as he dropped his gaze to the girl, "Look at me, baby..Let me see those pretty eyes, you're doing great~" he held her head a little, caressing her cheek and pushing her hair back. It really was a beautiful sight, especially since she was making so many little noises because of the other girl. He thought about how he could last without blowing it too early and simply moved back a little more, not allowing his full shaft in, and looked at Shawna, "Shawna, sweetheart, start giving it to her, I'm ready."

Shawna’s hips got quicker, the girl concentrating on her for a brief while before slowing down, teasing the other girl and hearing needy noises as she rose to meet Danny’s eyes again. She smirked as she made deep and slow strokes, holding the girl’s waist tight as she started to pump again, eating up all of her noises. Arina, in a whirlwind of confusion and pleasure, was enjoying Danny's gentle touch versus Shawna's roughness. She made sure to keep things even by swirling her tongue for Danny's head, hearing him falter at the motions. She felt the girl slow up once more and attempted to catch her breath while she dug into her spot, sliding Danny away from her to simply lay on the bed as she succumb to the waves crashing over her, panting and tongue lolling out. "I think I'm wearing her down," Shawna giggled, slowing for a brief pause, making sure that the girl was okay, "You alright, baby?~"

Danny looked at her with his lip pulled in to keep from biting it, but smirked when Shawna pointed out Arina's expression, "Yeah, let her take a breather..she's such a trooper." He reached down, caressing her cheek and pushing her hair off of her forehead adhered by sweat, while stroking himself with his free hand, "Fuck..~" he muttered, feeling himself get close again and it being unbearable from how many times he had been built up by Arina's mouth.

Shawna looked at her choices in front of her and really wanted Danny to follow-through. "How bad you wanna cum now, Danny?" she asked, pulling from the girl and clutching her own breast, "You look like you're ready to blow.."

"I really am~" he mentioned, scoffing lightly as she asked him getting off of the bed as the idea flooded into his head. "C'mere," he said, taking her by the waist gently, guiding her to bend over his bed, touching her dampened folds to tease her a little before lining himself up to push in, cursing quietly at her tightness. Shawna was through the roof as he pushed in, crying out as she felt him began to stretch her and work her walls knowing he could burst at any minute. She looked at Arina while Danny worked at her, locking eyes with her as she covered her mouth from an orgasm creeping up on her at the almost sudden deluge of pleasure, feeling fingers play with her sensitive bud, the girl turning as she screamed into his mattress, tensing around Danny and pushing him over the edge as well, giving her a few aggressive pumps while he unloaded before stopping, holding the hips close for a little longer while he came down and pulled away from her.

Shawna could feel the liquid pour from her as he pulled away, shuddering a little as he grabbed the towel to help her clean up, looking over at Arina as she had begun to touch herself again, and probably before Danny had even began to finish the job with Shawna. Her tongue stayed out as she chased her own orgasm with her own fingers, desperate to get lost in intense pleasure again. "I wanna eat the next one," Shawna said as she lined herself back up to the needy girl and pushed back in, hearing an excited moan, her hips giving her almost just what she was looking for. Shawna gave her several brief moments of slower build up before racing at it again, causing her to moan uncontrollably from the thrusts, but also hearing the music of her getting closer to the end. Danny smirked while Arina looked up at him with such surprise at the level of intensity she felt, sinking her head down while she groaned into the mattress like Shawna did. He took a hand, placing it on her head and picking it up as he locked eyes with the girl, giving her hushed nothings while she begged that she could barely handle it anymore. He calmed her down and kissed her lips while Shawna's hips began to speed up one more time, keeping Arina occupied while Shawna pushed her over and she could hear faint wet noises coming from between them, which caused her to pull away and scream a moan out when she felt her body release. "She did it! I told you she could do it," Shawna cheered, pulling out and finally taking off the harness, going to the blissed out girl and giving her the ponytail out of her own head for her, taking her sweaty hair and pushing it up for her, "There ya go, baby...How you feel?" she asked, picking her up from her position and allowing her to lay on her back.

"I-I can't feel anything~" she said laughing weakly, staring at the ceiling while shook her head, "I feel so...so messy.."

"It's okay, it feels like that the first time," she replied, catching Danny's eye as he began to finally stroke himself some more.

"It felt really good for a second..wh-what were you doing?" Arina asked, attempting to get her bearings, finally sitting up on her own.

“It’s what happens when you tease a cat for a bit too long, it’s gonna jump. So that one area is meant to cause a lot of pleasure gets worked at a lot before finally reacting,” Shawna explained, packing her items away, “It’s just having the right size and motion will make a difference...I-I didn’t hurt you, right?”

“Mm-mm! Like I said I could barely feel anything, so I guess I let go-”

“My bed says otherwise! You went through the towel!” Danny complains while he tried to clean up his room and dressed, then checking his phone, “I’m gonna get the food from the front, just sit tight you two.”

"Ah whatever, you should have been more prepared," Shawna joked back and waved Danny off before turning back to Arina, "You were saying?"

"Uhh I feel a little embarrassed..like all I did was pee on Danny's bed. Shaw is that all it is?!" Arina asked, darting her eyes to her with worry.

"I mean yeah, but kisses are just us pressing our gross faces against each other and we do it anyway. You mess with your spit glands to gleek even though it's not meant for that..You touch your uvula to throw up even though we stick shit down our throats all of the time..Par for the course really," she said, laying on her stomach looking at the girl.

"Eww~ well..when you put it that way.." Arina grimaced, shaking her head, " I guess it's subjective..it was an interesting thing, though."

"Yeah. This falls in the category above anal for me. Like I can see why it's hot, but I'm not always in the mood for it unless it's a special occasion and I'm like, gearing to go..Also, it's super time consuming," Shawna said, reaching over and grabbing the already rolled blunt, taking her lighter off the tray and lighting it as Danny comes back in the room. "Did you wanna get dressed, babe?" she asked with her lips full.

Arina watched Shawna lazily, her tiredness fading in as she settles, "Oh yeah, I should.." she crawls to the front of her bed and grabs one of Danny's hoodies and scans the room for her underwear. She puts on a bra and a tank top with her panties, the hoodie becoming much baggier yet shorter and changing design. She was fine with this transformation because it was the least revealing and warmer than the others, bringing a comforting sigh out of her. She clutched the ends of the sleeves an stretched in the room, the hoodie riding up to reveal her hips. "How can you think of smoking at a time like this? We're about to eat!" she mentioned as she plopped on the bed.

"At least you waited until I got back. I was just gonna eat and smoke since Shawna wants to play some games for a bit. She earned the blunt," Danny said while he began opening the bag and revealing that their plan was incentivized. He kneeled onto his bed and grabbed Shawna, planting a kiss on the top of her head, which she buried her head in his stomach. Arina watched with a puzzled look and felt like there something she was missing here. He was crazy about her this whole time until Shawna came over. Or anytime Shawna comes over. It doesn't matter that he went to her first, but she was standing in front of her and gave it to her first. There was a skipping in her chest as her eyebrows furrowed at the simple gesture. She was trying to tell herself that he didn't mean anything by it. It wasn't working.

"Danny~ what about me?" she finally said, coming out as a whine, lightly stomping. He chuckled lightly and went over to hug Arina, clutching her to him, and a kiss to the top of the head. He kissed her lips earlier. What fucking gives? She looked up immediately with her eyebrows furrowed, "You kissed me earlier.. what changed?"

Danny was confused, not sure if Arina was joking or not, "Yeah I did, so what?" he replied as Shawna came over and handed him the blunt, pulling him away to shotgun into his mouth, which he took in, allowing himself to get into kissing Shawna for a little longer. It was really hard to hold down what she felt about what was going on. He pulls away, giving her another soft peck on her lips, "Thanks, babe..Sorry, Arina. What's wrong?"

"Are you and Shaw a thing? I mean, that's really rude going around me like that first of all!" she finally blurted, trying to jump back from them, "Second..how come you never told me? Shaw, what the fuck?" Her eyes shook while they welled up with tears as she closed them and turned away. 

"It's..not exactly black and white, Arina," Danny chuckles nervously, "And I really..really didn't mean to make you feel less than anybody.. You're still my number one!" He was trying but Arina looked so frustrated and he didn't know what to do. Shawna saw him getting lost and a little anxious, tapping him to sit down while she approached her.

"Arina..come here..." Shawna came up and hugged the girl, who didn't feel like reciprocating the embrace, almost fidgeting, "Are you okay?"

"No~! I feel so fucking stupid!" Arina whined, jerking a little, "Why...Why do I care?! I'm so fucking mad at you right now~!"

Shawna chuckled softly, rubbing the girl's back to comfort her, "Aww..is someone jealous?..Or are you being needy? You want some love too?" she said, then pulling back and lifting the tear stained girl's face up, wiping her cheeks and placing a few soft kisses on her lips, "It's okay, Rina Beana...you can be jealous of watching Danny kiss me. Some girls feel like that sometimes, but we both love you..And all you had to do was ask."

Arina simply nodded as a shy smile crept up on her face. "Well, I want more~ I should get twice as much," she beamed, causing Shawna to laugh and into another embrace that she responded to this time.

"I think you'd actually die if we gave you two shotguns!" Danny joked as he began to dig into his chicken dish, handing off the blunt to Arina.

"Teach me how to give one then, asshole," she smiled back as Shawna guided her to sit back down between her legs loving the embrace she felt as she fed the girl behind her sushi, "Like what's the trick?"

"You can't breathe out of your mouth. Blow soft," Shawna said into Arina's shoulder, wrapped around her and kissing the back of her neck, "You wanna carry the smoke but not blow in their mouth."

"I like making Shawna open wide because she's a stoner like me," Danny said, watching Arina take her hits, taking it from her when she's done, "It's also helpful if you make them breathe in if they don't do it first already."

"Why?" she asks, curiously biting her lip after she blows when Shawna's hands wrap around her stomach.

"The hitter just moisturized the smoke and took a lot of the heat out of it, so if you breath it in, you'd just be choking on basically micro-ash that makes up the burning weed and paper, and not damage your throat or your lungs or anything," Danny says, "Allow me to demonstrate," he mentions while he leans over and ashes it into his ashtray and bringing it with him, setting down the blunt after taking a hit. Shawna gets the cue to let her go a little as he gets closer and moves in, swooping his head a little to remind her to open her mouth and delivers a deep kiss while trying to gently blow into her mouth. Arina was not expecting his approach, which caused her to gasp quickly, making her choke and she backed off, coughing for a few seconds, and Danny laughing lightly, "See? You're not a stoner yet, so you coughed...It's ok though, you're getting there."

"You've got time, we're gonna be here all night, so I can't wait to get my turn," Shawna mentioned, shaking her lightly and patting her back, handing her the cup from the nightstand so she can clear her throat.

"This is probably gonna be the best sleepover I've ever had~!" Arina beamed, biting her lip while Danny kissed her forehead.

"The best sleepover you've had so far.." Danny joked.

[365daysoftododeku]

6th May 2019

Author: CrzA

________________________________________________________________

Late Night Stealth Practice

Shouto wakes to three steady knocks on the door to the veranda, squinting at the closed curtains as if they have committed a grave offense while he decides whether he actually heard it or if it’s just the remnants of a dream he no longer recalls. For the longest time, all he hears is the deafening quiet of his darkened dorm, as it should be, and he returns his head to his soft pillow, nuzzling it with an unintelligible grumble and getting ready to slip right back into his slumber. And then, there it is again: knock, knock, knock, slow but firm.

Propping himself up on his elbows, Shouto mutters a confused curse under his breath before dragging himself out of the comfort of his futon, wondering if he imagined being on the fifth floor of Heights Alliance this whole time. Or maybe he locked something out there by accident and the wind was knocking it against the glass door? Surely, Shouto would have remembered actually going outside, but the days have been so hot lately he prefers to stay in the comfort of his air-conditioned room.

Just because he has an ice quirk doesn’t mean it doesn’t tire him to regulate his temperature on a blazing summer afternoon.

Careful not to make any quick movements, just in case, Shouto tugs at one of the curtains just as the knocks are starting again. He blinks stupidly at his best friend’s smiling face on the other side of the glass. He’s still on the fifth floor, right? Trying not to think too much about it, his sleep-filled brain not equipped to handle the strain of figuring out how, or rather why Izuku decided it would be a good idea to climb the building up to his veranda from his bedroom on the first floor, Shouto just sighs, opening the door.

“Hey.” Izuku whispers, his grin only growing wider once he finally pokes his head into Shouto’s dorm. “Get dressed, we’re sneaking out.”

Shouto gives him a moment’s pause, staring impassively for a few heartbeats before finally finding the part of his brain responsible for speech and critical thinking.

“We’re doing what.”

“Sneaking out, come on. Put some proper clothes on.”

“Izuku, I’m pretty sure it’s past one in the morning.”

“It’s—” Izuku looks down at his phone for a second. “Two thirteen actually.” He smiles up at him once more.

“Go to bed.”

“Wait, wait, wait!”

Izuku zaps into Shouto’s room before he even has the chance to think of closing the door, taking something down from his shoulders; a backpack it seems. Shouto crosses his arms over his chest and waits patiently for his friend to set it down and show him its contents. With so little light, he can hardly see anything at all, but Izuku pipes up excitedly anyway.

“Marshmallows, biscuits and chocolate. We can make some smores, have a nice time. Have you ever snuck out before?”

Shouto shrugs. “Can’t say I have…”

“See? You need to do it at least once before you’re an adult and you can just go out whenever you want.”

In spite of himself, a corner of Shouto’s mouth twitches in mild amusement. “That so?”

“Yep. Being a kid, rule number forty-three.”

“Right, of course. How could I forget.” Shouto mutters sarcastically, rolling his eyes, but Izuku takes the mockery in stride, only beaming up at him even brighter.

“Well, it’s okay. Your dad is a huge douche nozzle so I can forgive you for not knowing such an essential part of the rulebook. You’re lucky you have me though, otherwise you’d get your kid card revoked.”

“What would I do without you?”

“I know, right?”

Resigning to his fate, Shouto quickly changes into some jeans and a plain white shirt in the bathroom, moving toward the door when he’s done only for Izuku to pull him back before he can open it. Izuku drags him all the way back to the veranda, picking up his backpack along the way and snaking his arms into the straps so that it hangs at his front. Shouto purses his lips, taking a look down to the floor below before facing Izuku again.

“You’re not expecting me to—”

With a small chuckle, Izuku turns his back to Shouto and crouches slightly. “Hop on the Midoriya express and make sure you hold tight! It’s gonna be a bumpy ride!”

“Can’t we just take the stairs? You know, like normal people?”

“And risk getting caught? Besides, where’s the fun in that?” Izuku wiggles his eyebrows at him and Shouto lets out another exasperated sigh, walking towards him and hopping onto his back.

“If you drop me, I’m going to kill you.”

“You’ve been spending too much time with Kacchan, lately.”

“Yeah, whatever. Let’s just get on with it.”

Izuku adjusts their position, making sure that Shouto is secured, and he feels a fuzzy warmth spreading around them as Izuku’s quirk activates. He jumps onto the railing, balancing precariously before jumping down, a black whip flying from one of his hands and latching on to a railing as they swing around the building’s corner. Instinctively, Shouto squeezes his eyes shut and buries his face in Izuku’s shirt, feeling the wind blow past his hair as they hurtle through the air. When they finally hit the floor, Shouto bounces slightly in Izuku’s hold, risking a glance at their surroundings and immediately regretting it when his friend hoists them into the skies once again.

He shakes with each of Izuku’s jumps off the walls, holding on for dear life for however long it takes to get them to wherever he is going, and his heart feels like it is fitting to beat right out of his chest. It’s a bit terrifying, but at the same time, extremely liberating, butterflies fluttering in his stomach and making him feel all sorts of giddy. By the time Izuku finally sets foot on solid ground and stops moving at breakneck speed, Shouto is sure his legs will give the moment his friend lets him down.

But Izuku doesn’t let go when Shouto climbs onto the floor, holding on to his side as his knees wobble until he is sure that he can keep himself upright. Taking a few deep breaths then stretching his legs a little, Shouto looks around them, trying to pinpoint exactly where Izuku brought them. They are definitely on a roof, and when Shouto walks over to the edge, he can immediately tell it belongs to the school’s main building. He hums, impressed.

“You managed to get us up here so fast.”

“I’ve been practicing.” Izuku breathes, taking a blanket from his bag and spreading it out on the floor. “There are still lights on outside the dorms, but here everything is turned off for the night. We can see the stars easier.”

“How cheesy.” Shouto comments, a small smile stretching across his lips regardless.

“Yeah, I know. I thought it would be nice though.”

Izuku pats the spot next to him and Shouto sits down too, helping him pull out the snacks before realising there is a crucial piece missing to his friend’s plan. Or, well… He glares at Izuku in feigned annoyance.

“Really? I’m the fire for the smores?”

“Got a better idea? I don’t think we can burn school property and I don’t have one of those artificial burners so…”

“You only use me for my quirk, do you know how hurtful that is?”

“Oh, please, how many times have I carried you back to the dorms so you could nap on the way?” Izuku shoots back, shoving his shoulder.

“Loophole, you do that with your strength alone, therefore, not using you for your quirk.”

“Just my muscles.”

“Those are fair game.”

“Jerk.”

A little amused huff of his own only seems to make Izuku giggle harder, and Shouto lifts up his left hand between them, willing a small flame into existence that he takes a few moments to admire before actually sticking the marshmallows on some chopsticks and holding them to it.

Shouto hadn’t actually ever tried the snack until not many months ago, when the class decided it would be a fun activity for a late Friday night after their weekly movie, but Izuku noticed how much he liked it and had been finding excuses to make smores fairly regularly ever since. He appreciates the gesture, as much as he keeps telling Izuku that he doesn’t have to go out of his way for him like that. But that’s just how Izuku is.

Shouto still doesn’t know how he managed to become his friend, especially with how rocky their relationship started. Izuku will never let him live that down either, much to his dismay. It’s worth it though, to be reminded how much of an embarrassing idiot he was back then if that means he got here in the end.

They eat the messy treats as they chat the night away, talking about anything and everything without a single care in the world. It’s peaceful like this, with no one’s expectations looming over them, just the moon shining its shy light down on them as they count the constellations they can name and then look them up on their phones to find out they got over half of them wrong. It’s true, what would Shouto do without Izuku?

He doesn’t think he would have made it this far, both literally and figuratively. But they got here together, and Izuku keeps trying to find new ways to make his life better. A few hours of lost sleep are a price Shouto is more than willing to pay. Perhaps one day he will be able to give back just as much happiness as he gets from being Izuku’s friend.

For now, Izuku has been teaching him that it’s okay to keep taking everything he has to offer.

________________________________________________________________

Would you like your work to be featured in the 365 Days of TodoDeku Project? Apply here! (≧∇≦)/

[jaysomehero]

The Smell of Sunflowers. A Short Story.

We all think from time to time, about being loved unconditionally, a mother's touch, a lover's embrace, acceptance of one's self. We as humans crave it. From the moment you are violently screaming your existence into the world to when you are peacefully closing your eyes for the very last time.

You are put onto a path, one that takes you through this rugged, beautiful, odd journey, By accident, by purpose, by chance. You are introduced to individuals that teach you a thing or two about yourself. This story, is like that. Lessons learned, and purposes found.

A short, brief love story. If you are not doing much, perhaps offer a bit of your time.

I digressed, I was never really good at introducing a topic or story. You can say this is my first. If I remember correctly it starts around the same time as it is today. Cold, fall is passing and winter engaged. Although it was cold I remember being so warm, kind of glowing. Rebranded with new purpose. Cold air wrapped itself loosely and swiftly, felt like lace around my face, I was walking to work, I worked fast food at the time. I was a cook and typically moving in a hurry to work, with my music turned up loud enough to where I felt I was there. I really like to walk with my headphones in. The feeling and vibes, I could paint hearing the assembled sound of instruments. I could see the vibe attached with my music, I felt like I could describe it so well. My first love, music.

I loved waiting till the last minute, then bolt out the door energy drink in hand and moving like a bullet through the wind. Gotta love that youth, am I right? I just started Graveyard, and I got told it wouldn't be my usual coworker. I was used to working with.. Well for personal reasons I can't give you a name, so let's call her Molerat, as derogatory as that can sound, I find it appropriate. Usually an innocent girl, she just had a way of flipping a script and twisting your words into a balloon animal. One that you were unaware that you apparently made.

I don't have much at the moment I care to tell you about Molerat. Other than that I was not going to be working with her that night, I came in that night, per my usual timing a few minutes late, head to the back dropped my bag off, my bag I carried had my wallet, keys, an extra flannel red in color, my portable speaker, phone charger and typically an extra energy drink in addition to the one I had already. I took my energy drink and speaker to my work station which would be the grill area, back then this ritual, I believed made the shift more enjoyable, even though it was not enjoyable.

The smell of grease and burnt meat would be swimming toward my nostrils. The last of a dinner rush would be exiting and as the previous shift members were heading out and I settled in

Enter.. my coworker for the evening, I remember her wearing this thin black jacket with a flannel underneath, carrying a skateboard technically a long board, and a rasta colored satchel. She had this piercing above her lip, not in the middle but on the side. It looked cute honestly. She had these big doe like eyes, and lips that pursed like to together like those old style Hollywood actresses. After everyone from the last shift left, and we both were settled in, I attempted to introduce myself to her, in this story ladies and gentlemen, no names will be used. So call me Crow, cheesy I know but there's a purpose the name plays on and we'll get to that later. I remember awkwardly sticking my hand out like I was closing a business deal or something. She glanced at it and told me her hands were dirty. I think she said like a few minutes later. I felt a little rejected but not completely devastated. I mean after all we were both just there to scrape up some money and go home. I still wanted to push my boundaries though, so I get my speaker and turn it on. One especially great thing about working graves was no managers or shift leaders to tell you you couldn't play music out loud and best believe I took full advantage of it.

So I offer her the option to play music, most people when asked to play music don't often play THEIR music. To me it was a intimate thing to share music, intimate in a way without touching or talking like you got to hear the vibes these people vibe with.

We exchanged music, swapping song from song, the kitchen was filled with tunes of all kinds vibes in the air, from gritty, fast paced punk, through the lyrical morose of indie, to the feeling of joy and excitement in old and new songs. "Musical Soulmate" was what she called me before the night was over. Hummingbird is what I'm gonna call her. She was precious and pretty like a small Hummingbird. Like a floating little daisy that smiled and made me feel warm.

All these vibes and phases that my music helped me through. Being projected and straight into the ears of Hummingbird, This moment as I look back I would wanna call this phase the Color Yellow. They said Vincent Van Gogh ate the color yellow to cure his depression, unfortunately and ultimately succumbing to depression. I suppose the god of Death wasn't keen on just waiting around for such an artist to arrive. Bet he's painting some really beautiful things right about now, I really appreciated his pieces that included sunflowers. Those are my favorite, You gotta really give it to Death for giving life meaning.

Happiness is what the color yellow resembled and happiness in life was what I mark this brief period of my life. This happiness would be a story of love.

Eventually November flew by and December idled, blink and you'll miss it. Hummingbird and I grew more accustomed to each other. Although no feelings of love were declared you could see it, if you were there. That we were screaming it everyday at each other with every word, action and song played. You see I was supposed to be leaving to Oregon sometime within the next year, and December was well on its way to concluding a long and significant year in my change. New Year's eve, I still remember, Hummingbird and I shared our first kiss. Bringing in the new year together I was supposed to be getting to a party that night with a few friends. That kiss made me realize that there was nowhere else I'd rather be besides next to my Hummingbird. Nowhere else I'd wanna go, unless she was right there with me. So I canceled that move.

These next monthes would be confusing, exciting, and terrifying. As the phrase suggests Falling in love was exactly that. Falling, and falling and falling not stopping until you do, we were such careless lazy lovers. Living those days inside each other, it wouldn't be until the eve month of summer that a very specific surprise would arrive. The Crow and Hummingbird would be intertwined for life by the bond of birth. We were pregnant. We spent the summer trying to wrap our heads around it all. Having no car and living in the desert was a big drag, and a big challenge. It felt like I couldn't keep a job either. We were tasked with getting to know the best and worst parts of each other through the pregnancy. There were times of doubt, and times of reassurance. Keeping in mind this is a love story.

We'd eventually get a car and life was easier and through Fall and through the Winter we spent out on the road and on our own, flying wherever we wanted to be, enjoying every holiday as our last ones alone before the fruit of our trees would join us. I significantly remember Christmas 2018, how much I felt grown up, happy and carefree with my beloved. I wasn't just a Crow anymore, I was a Lovebird. Crows can be lovebirds too! The only purpose for using the name Crow. Lol That night is and will always be unforgettable. This is a love story.

January arrived and the month we both waited for. Again another January brought upon a new change, but this time for both of us. Our young, strong daughter was brought into this world on the 15th of January bearing the sign of the Sea Goat like her father before her. Blue eyed and resembling the beauty of her mother. Another light in my life was lit. Both of my girls were here. My beloved and my precious little girl. This is a love story.

This year would be a year of also many changes. For the better I do not know. For the worst I would like to think not. Lots of growing I witnessed in my daughter and in my beloved Hummingbird. I've never seen more growth from one person than her. She willingly let herself blossom and bloom into a woman. Becoming stronger, wiser, and even more gorgeous. Aging like fine wine. No jewel, no treasure, no goddess rivaled it. This is still a love story.

Somewhere along this year maybe the ending of the summer, there was doubt. Lots of doubt. I see it now, I lost strength and I didn't lose it naturally, I let myself lose it. Doubt was only natural. Love as you know is what we as humans crave. To not feel alone in a world that individualizes each and everyone. To eventually feel alone while being in love is a nasty thing. Nobody deserves such a thing. Maybe somewhere along the lines or between them there was a long lost feeling I forgot to tend to. A strong feeling. Ancient in age and has been felt since the dawn of man. If left unattended could consume the best of a man. This... Is... Still... A... Love... Story...

Lots of yelling, lots of hurting, lots of choices made. In the short time from September to November. Ladies and gentlemen this is a still a story.

Where we are left now is at the end. There are no more friends, there isn't a lover, there will not be a happy ending. Because To be frank I don't know what has ended or what has begun. I deserve no sympathy, no sad songs, and especially no love.

I the Crow, did this to myself, and I the Crow am the only one that has to be the one to fix myself. There is no smell of sunflowers and the one who smells of sunflowers is the same as the color yellow. They are happiness, they are good. Listen when I tell you that emotions run logic into the ground if left unchecked. Good men lose the battle everytime, we are warriors and not everything has to be a fight with hands. I used to think I knew how It all worked and how I could be better than I was.

Truth is I left those demons unchecked. I destroyed what I was given. I'm lost and I just want to see my girls. Hold them both in my arms. I don't want to give up. I don't want to hate. I don't fucking want to feel like this anymore. This is a love story. This is our story, this is my story, the story of a Crow that didn't learn anything and repeated his cycle. What's left is to move forward. There's only one way direction travels and that way is the only way to go. I apologize and will continue to do so till my final breathe.

I've learned its humility that humbles you. A tragedy that wisens you, and finally clarity is reached when you finally have faced those demons.

To my Hummingbird, I love you and will always love you. I'm on a path right now for a better and wiser me. Stronger and good of spirit. I do this for myself. But... I do, do this to maybe one day reunite. To meet each other again for the first time. It won't be soon, but I do truly hope to live in your arms and you in mine once this journey is completed. We could maybe be one, once more.

I'm alive and well. I don't wish to disrupt you and your peace but I do wish to hear from you and our daughter. Your well being and adventures. Thanksgiving will be here soon. I'm thankful we got to meet. Thank you.

Forever yours, the Sunflower

The Crow, The Alien, the Strutman, the Lovely Love, Kylo Ren, Jaysomehero

J. Thomas

[frighthouseofalighthouse]

I'M GONNA DO IT TO EM' ALL ASKS THAT YOU REBLOG TONIGHT TILL 10 AM TOMORROW.... DO THEM!!!!

Hey, you had to do it to ‘em! Here they are starting with the most recent.

“Weird asks that say a lot”

1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans?

Coffee mugs because you can use them for everything. Teacups are too small for a proper cuppa.

2. chocolate bars or lollipops?

Chocolate bars always.

3. bubblegum or cotton candy?

Bubblegum, which I miss so much. I haven’t had it in over 2 years bc of my braces

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?

I didn’t go to public school but all the adults who dealt with me said I was sociable and tried to get everyone to do the group projects but no one listened so I ended up sitting alone reading and quietly doing the project.

5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups?

Glass BOTTLES make it taste superior.

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?

Pastel boho preppy goth best describes my style.

7. earbuds or headphones?

Earbuds, but only rubber tipped ones. The plastic ones never fit in my ears. Also headphones never cover my whole ear right. :/

8. movies or tv shows?

TV shows keep my attention span better.

9. favorite smell in the summer?

Brewing thunderstorms.

10. game you were best at in p.e.?

None. But trampoline if I had to pick.

11. what you have for breakfast on an average day?

Scrambled eggs, peanut butter toast, and some kind of fruit.

12. name of your favorite playlist?

My main one is Things You Love. My one for writing is Queen And Country, and my other two favorites are Summer Songs and A Queen Knows How To Fight A War.

13. lanyard or key ring?

Key ring, lanyards get in the way.

14. favorite non-chocolate candy?

Swedish Fish or Sour Patch Kids.

15. favorite book you read as a school assignment?

OH MAN. To Kill A Mockingbird, The Great Gatsby, Fahrenheit 451, The Grapes Of Wrath, and The Handmaid’s Tale were definitely my top 5 in English class.

16. most comfortable position to sit in?

Curled up sideways in an armchair with my legs slung over the arm. Sitting normally sucks.

17. most frequently worn pair of shoes?

Either pair of my black boots, or my pink floral Skechers that I wear to work.

18. ideal weather?

60 degrees, cloudy, windy, with a chance of rain.

19. sleeping position?

On my right side, arms around a fluffy pillow, one leg out straight and the other drawn up with my knee to my chest.

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)?

Laptop. I’m trying to exercise my hand and wrist so I don’t tire as quick of notebook writing, though.

21. obsession from childhood?

History, Nancy Drew books, Harry Potter, and ghost stories.

22. role model?

The person I am but don’t think I am.

23. strange habits?

Pulling my shirt collar up over my nose and mouth/putting it in my mouth and chewing on it.

24. favorite crystal?

Amethyst, my birthstone! Close second is blue goldstone. (Have you ever seen it? It looks like the universe. I have a worrystone made of blue goldstone and it’s one of my prized possessions.)

25. first song you remember hearing?

Something from church probably. Outside of church probably one of these: If I Had A Hammer // Peter, Paul and Mary, Puff The Magic Dragon // Peter, Paul and Mary, Scarborough Fair // Simon & Garfunkel, The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald // Gordon Lightfoot.

26. favorite activity to do in warm weather?

Sit in the shade.

27. favorite activity to do in cold weather?

Drink tea, read, and play either Pokemon or Nancy Drew and the Clue Benders Society on my 3DS.

28. five songs to describe you?

The Pines // Roses & Revolutions, I Am Here // Pink, Walk Me Home // Pink, Call Home // Heathers (not the musical), Traveler’s Song // Aviators

29. best way to bond with you?

Talk to me about history, crime, musicals, books, or tv shows

30. places that you find sacred?

Natural swamps. Libraries. Old, overgrown gardens. Anywhere historic. Pine forests at dusk. Anywhere under a clear night sky.

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?

A plaid shirt, black leggings, and black boots with dark neutral lipstick and a black choker.

32. top five favorite vines?

Fre she vocado, BENTLEY NOOOOO, uhhh I sure hope it does, the one of Lin Manuel-Miranda trying to brainstorm, and this bitch empty YEEt

33. most used phrase in your phone?

Idk how to find this out

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?

Idk if this is just a local thing here but WOW ITS NATURESTONE

35. average time you fall asleep?

12-1 nowadays.

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?

I can haz cheezburger

37. suitcase or duffel bag?

Depends. Suitcase for things like my laptop that are better protected than in a duffel bag, but duffel bag otherwise because they’re easier to carry.

38. lemonade or tea?

TEAAAAA

39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie?

Both please

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?

My house? We had a safe word when we did math. It was “quokka.” If we got overwhelmed we’d say it and then stop and look at pictures of quokkas.

41. last person you texted?

My friend and coworker.

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets?

Jacket pockets.

43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket?

Cardigan or hoodie

44. favorite scent for soap?

Lavender

45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero?

Fantasy. It takes me a bit to get into fantasy books usually, but sci-fi is hard to follow and superhero is mostly predictable.

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in?

Fuzzy pants and a t shirt

47. favorite type of cheese?

Muenster, parmesan, or goat cheese

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?

Raspberry

49. what saying or quote do you live by?

“I have no country to fight for. My country is the earth, and I am a citizen of this world.” - Eugene V. Debs

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?

A weird local political ad a couple years back.

51. current stresses?

My recent breakup, an overnight shift I work on Wednesday night, and trying to find time to go out to a corn maze with my friend.

52. favorite font?

Baskerville or Georgia.

53. what is the current state of your hands?

Covered in small cuts and scrapes from work, nails picked short, black nail polish mostly peeled off.

54. what did you learn from your first job?

babysitting job: Kids suck never have more than one. Retail job: being on your fee it hardddd

55. favorite fairy tale?

Beauty and the Beast or Rapunzel

56. favorite tradition?

Looking at Halloween decorations

57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome?

Cutting, being manipulated by my dad, and letting other people make me believe I wasn’t good enough (still working on that one)

58. four talents you’re proud of having?

Writing, puzzle-solving, singing, and calligraphy

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?

“Oh shit waddup”

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?

One of those preppy gothic private school animes with a dark secret lurking around the corner

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?

Book: “Ignoring isn’t the same as ignorance. You have to work at it.” - The Handmaid’s Tale. Movie: “It’s not about deserve. It’s about what you believe. And I believe in love.” - Wonder Woman. TV Show: “I am the Bad Wolf. I create myself.” - Doctor Who.

62. seven characters you relate to?

Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Remus Lupin, Richard Gansey III, Blue Sargent, Dean Winchester, Charlie Bradbury.

63. five songs that would play in your club?

Same five that I said describe me.

64. favorite website from your childhood?

Webkinz and the old American Girl site circa 2009.

65. any permanent scars?

One down my chest from heart surgery as a baby, lots from self harm on my arms/legs, some on my left knee from falling as a kid, and one on the back of my right heel from being pecked by a goose at the fair when I was 11.

66. favorite flower(s)?

Sunflowers, roses, and dahlias.

67. good luck charms?

Myself.

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?

Ranch anything.

69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned?

Jellyfish have no brains and no heart.

70. left or right handed?

I’m third generation left handed!

71. least favorite pattern?

Vertical stripes.

72. worst subject?

Math.

73. favorite weird flavor combo?

Wendy’s fries and chocolate frosty.

74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen?

7. Usually I just ignore it because I have a “high pain tolerance” (which means I like to put myself through minor pains because I think I deserve it)

75. when did you lose your first tooth?

Age 5. I was trying to blow up an inflatable ball and it came out.

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?

ALL POTATOES EXCEPT POTATO SALAD

77. best plant to grow on a windowsill?

Violets.

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?

Neither, both suck equally.

79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo?

Never had a school id so I guess the license

80. earth tones or jewel tones?

Earth tones for me

81. fireflies or lightning bugs?

...They are literally the same thing

82. pc or console?

PC

83. writing or drawing?

Writing. I absolutely cannot draw.

84. podcasts or talk radio?

Podcasts, talk radio is so obnoxious.

84. barbie or polly pocket?

Barbie. The clothes are easier to take on and off. I used to accidentally rip polly pocket clothes all the time.

85. fairy tales or mythology?

Mythology. I like it because it explains things, it’s creation stories, its origins. Fairy tales are just fantasies or cautionary tales.

86. cookies or cupcakes?

Cookies.

87. your greatest fear?

Rejection, drowning, and clowns.

88. your greatest wish?

To be a semi-successful author and historian.

89. who would you put before everyone else?

My mom.

90. luckiest mistake?

Not succeeding in killing myself!

91. boxes or bags?

Bags.

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?

Dim lamps if they have yellow bulbs. I hate white lights. And also fairy lights yes please.

93. nicknames?

Ellie, Ell, Little Lion, Lioness.

94. favorite season?

FALLLLL

95. favorite app on your phone?

Tumblr, Spotify, or Instagram.

96. desktop background?

97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized?

6.

98. favorite historical era?

Revolutionary War-era America or late Victorian England.

THIS GOT REALLY LONG AND I DONT WANNA HIT THE TEXT BLOCK LIMIT SO IMMA DO ALL THE HALLOWEEN ONES SEPARATELY, MAYBE IN THE MORNING.

[lukesbum]

Dark Heart: Part One

a/n: hi guys/anyone who stumbles upon this! this is my first fic and i’ve been wanting to write this story for a while, so if there are any kinks please give me some slack until i get the hang of things!! like/share/give me feedback!! im going to be posting this in parts and i think there are going to be a lot! im already editing part two, so give that a read when i post it!! 

a hogwarts!5sos fic. enjoy. 

_____________________________________________________________

Rosemary hated potions.

The professor never had office hours, the room smelt like burning hair, and frankly she just wasn’t very good at it. She would read and read and read, practice tons, and had potions memorized to the point where she could recite the ingredients like you could recite the alphabet, but for some ungodly reason her perfectly measured components would blend together in every and any way but the way they should have.

Her best friend Mikey would try to help her out, he showed her all of his tips and tricks that earned him an A in potions every year, but his tricks weren’t in the recipe. If she couldn’t even master the recipe then why in god’s name would she stray from it???

“My way is just so much easier, Rosie.” Mikey would say, shaking his head and laughing at the frizz her hair was taking on by the second. “If you do what I’m telling you to do then it’ll make it easier to get a perfect end result.”

“Mikey, I can’t just...not follow the directions.” Rosemary had told him this time after time, but he just wouldn’t drop it.

It wasn’t until her professor asked her to stay after one day that she regretted not listening to her friend.

“I want you to work with Ashton on your upcoming project. He’s my top student, you could learn a lot from him.”

“Who even is Ashton?” The thought of working with a stranger on something that was such a large part of her grade put a pit in her stomach and she could feel her palms beginning to sweat. “And isn’t Michael top of the class? I’ve been working with him and-”

“I adore Michael, I really do, and while he has been earning nearly perfect scores I think Ashton would be a much better teacher.” The professor shrugged and gave Rosemary a small smile.

“Well, why can’t I just meet with you? I know you don’t do office hours but-”

“Miss Dare, please. You’ll be working with Ashton Irwin and that’s final. I’ve asked him to meet you here tomorrow at noon, does that work?”

Rosemary just nodded, not wanting to talk back to her professor for a second time.

She didn’t even have the energy to go back to the common room, solving a riddle did not sound appealing when Rosemary was giving herself a headache from worrying so much. Rosemary had her friends and that was that. She never really went beyond them because her anxious interior presented a somewhat bitchy exterior that strangers got a taste of and chose to leave it at that. Even Calum considered never talking to her after the first night they met. After both being sorted into Ravenclaw, the two shy first years found themselves seated together at a then very intimidating table full of older kids who already knew each other. Rosemary kept giving Calum clipped answers to all of his questions and wouldn’t look up from the plate she was picking at. To say he was surprised when she sat with him in the common room the next day- even if they just sat in silence while he drew in his sketchbook and Rosemary read- would be an understatement.

Later, Rosemary found herself sitting with Calum and one of his friends- a Gryffindor- in the great hall for dinner. His friend was okay, she had met him more than a few times at this point and could tolerate him for the time she was forced to hang out with him (Calum never forced Rosemary to hangout, but she wasn’t going to deny Calum of having one other friend just because of her pre-decided dislike towards Gryffindors).

“Luke,” She interrupted whatever Calum was saying to pose her question. “Do you know an Ashton?”

“Ashton Irwin?”

“Uh,” Rosemary pursed her lips and thought for a moment. “I think so. Do you know anything about him?”

“Do I?” Luke let out a mix between a laugh and a sigh. “Yeah I know him. Why? You fancy him?”

“No. No, god no. I don’t even know who he is. My potions professor wants me to work with him on our next project.” With a shrug, she chose to omit the fact that the reason she was paired with him was because he was exelling and she was not.

Luke tapped his ringed fingers against the table, he was always trying to add something different to his uniform to make it..well, less uniform. Rings, painted nails, even makeup were all things he dabbled in. Honestly, Luke was hot. If it weren’t for the gossip Mikey had told her about how he’s been working his way around all the Hufflepuffs in their year then she would totally go for him.

“Well, Ashton’s a bit of a dick. I don’t think he’s rude, but he’s not pleasant to be around. I had divination with the blockhead and he was just kind of an asshole, didn’t even try and wrote off the class as bullshit.” Luke shrugged. “I got on well with him though. Overall a nice guy, I’m sure he’ll cooperate for your project.”

Rosemary nodded, the information made her a little less on edge about the whole situation. “Thanks. I’m meeting him tomorrow at noon.”

“Where?”

She looked at Calum with her brows drawn together. “The potions classroom?? Where else?”

“I just wanted to know. Jeez.”

With that the raven haired girl let out a sigh and started to stand. “Can we go now? Both of us?”

Calum rolled his eyes. “You just go, ya grump. I’ll meet you later.”

“Calum I just don’t have the energy to stand there and not be able to figure out the riddle. Last time a first year had to let me in. A first year.” Rosemary pouted. “Please? I’ll give you whatever  homework answers you want.”

“You really think I trust your potions homework?” Calum smiled and stood. “Bye Luke.”

___

Rosemary had been sitting in the potions room since five minutes before noon and twenty minutes later she was still alone. Leave it to her to not appreciate Mikey’s help and be left to work with some lazy, rude, probably overall dumb-

“Are you Rose?”

Rosemary jumped from her stool and placed a hand over her chest. Jesus. Very smooth

“Hello?? Don’t tell me you’re stupid and deaf.”

She finally turned to face him. “Excuse me?”

And she thought Luke was hot.

Ashton was tall and had broad shoulders, his hair fell in loose waves to the nape of his neck and one curl sat on his forehead. He wore his uniform without a tie and had his pant legs rolled so you could see his deep green socks peeking out. His sleeves were rolled to his elbows exposing his forearms.

The boy smirked and walked towards her, placing a book down on the table and leaning  back on it with his elbows. Rosemary took in his uniform one more time, of course he was a Slytherin. His whole presence just carried cockiness with it and, frankly, she didn’t have the patience for that.

“You heard me. I’m Ashton by the way.” He stuck out a hand and all she could do was stare at his lopsided grin and bite the inside of her cheek. “Pleasure.”

Turning away from him, she opened her textbook and leaned forward to read the directions printed inside of it.

“Are you ready to start?” Ashton took a step closer to you, he was too close now and you could hear your heart beating in your ears.

Rosemary cleared her throat. “Yeah, but can you not stand so close to me?”

“Why sweetheart? Am I making you nervous?”

“Just-” She took a deep breath. “Personal space. Please.”

Surprisingly, Ashton moved to stand on the other side of the table and set himself up across from her. Once everything was in its place he held his hands out in front of himself. “Good?”

“Uh. Yeah, thanks.” She set up her own cauldron and avoided his eyes. “And it’s Rosemary.”

“What?”

“My name isn’t Rose. It’s Rosemary.”

Ashton let out a chuckle and raised a brow at her. “Same thing, darling.”

“Rosemary.” She huffed, seeing how her afternoon was going to turn out.

“Fine. Rosemary. Let’s start.”

Ashton turned out to be an okay teacher, just not a very friendly one. He followed what was written exactly and worked at a slow pace so Rosemary could keep up. She couldn’t help but stop to look at him a couple times, how could she have not noticed him before? His confident stature was one that demanded attention and even the sound of his voice was sexy. With tousled hair and large hands that knew exactly when to reach up and adjust it, she couldn’t see one flaw in his appearance. Even the flaw she could detect, his attitude, seemed forgivable when she was looking at him; his eyes and jawline, his prominent adam’s apple, and-

“Hello, did you hear me? Let’s call it a day, my arms are starting to get sore from stirring.” Ashton pushed a strand of lock from his forehead and shut his book, looking up at Rosemary as if inviting her to do the same.

“Sounds good to me.”

“Are you doing anything right now?”

She stared at him for a moment.

What?

“You mean after this?”

Ashton shrugged. “Well we’re done now so. What are you doing now?”

“Oh, uh,” Rosemary started packing things into her bag and kept her eyes trailed on the ground. “I’m supposed to meet with my friend Michael and-”

“Fuck him. Come with me.”

Excuse me? “Michael is my best friend so-”

“He’s a Puff right? I know ‘im. It’s fine, he won’t mind.”  

“What? How-”

“Well we-”

“Ashton.” Rosemary rolled her eyes and swung her bag over her shoulder. “Stop interrupting me. It’s really fucking rude.”

“Watch your mouth, sweetheart.” Ashton’s smile fell and he took a step towards her.

Oh. Rosemary’s mouth went dry and she knew the right reaction should be anger. The audacity of this boy to tell her how to speak as if she were a child? How dare a complete stranger stand there and reprimand you with that look. Although those were truly her thoughts, her body betrayed her. Her breath hitched in her throat and she knew Ashton could tell, her bottom lip went between her teeth and she felt heat in her cheeks.

“C’mon. You’ll have fun.” Ashton passed Rosemary and at the same time took her bag from her shoulder, shrugging it onto his own and standing in the doorway, expectantly. “Please?”

As if she had a choice.