#local old man yells at clouds i know i know

[sexybritishllama]

i loathe discord for many reasons but one among them is the fact its impossible to have a conversation on so many servers because of how their channel rules work. if you want to share an image make sure you post it to the #media channel, BUT make sure that doesn't spark a conversation in the same channel! you must move to another channel for that. no #general isnt the right one thats for general chat (whatever that means if not this) have you maybe tried #off-topic or #memes? oh but some other people are talking about something in there already and you would be randomly shoving an unrelated message in between them and make it even harder to track what anyone is talking about or it just gets lost in the flood of messages? wait why aren't you posting at all what do you mean this is too much effort it's just a way to keep things more organised—

[ninii-winchester]

Crossed Allegiances

Pairing: Dean Winchester X Reader

Word count : 7.5k

Warnings: angst, smut, fluff, spn spoilers, language, canon violence. Not proofread.

A/n: had to split in two because the long fic has become too long.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

"Hurry up." Said the man in hushed whisper, his voice barely audible in the dead of the night.

"You're going to regret this, you know?" She whispered back, her voice was soft. She wasn't threatening him, rather she was scared for what might happen after.

"Don't make me change my mind." He replied. His words held no malice. They were more of a plea for her to hurry up. Before he could speak any further, she pulled him into a tight hug. He wasn't shocked at her action. He was used to her embracing him whenever the opportunity presented itself. Although he hated when she did so, this time he held her back and cherished these last moments with her.

"I'll owe you. For the rest of my life." She whispered lowly.

"You won't. You just be safe." He said pulling away from her. She nodded her head in a silent promise that she wouldn't be reckless and be safe. She looked at face, remembering every last detail, his short dark brown hair, the scar on his right cheek, his eyes, knowing this would be the last time she ever sees him in a very long time.

With a loud gasp Y/n sat up in her bed. Her forehead was covered in sweat as she heaved looking around. She relaxed a bit as she realised she was in her room, in her apartment.

It wasn't a nightmare per say that woke her up from her slumber. It was a memory. A memory buried in the back of her mind that she doesn't want to forget or remember. She wants to remember the last time she was with the most important person in her life but she wants to forget how she got here. She wants to forget how it was the last time she ever saw him and how she has no way of contacting him without risking his life.

With a heavy heart she dragged herself out of the bed, making her way towards the bathroom to get ready for her day.

Y/n L/n, a twenty four year old woman, who lives in Lebanon, Kansas for the past five years. She lives alone in her one bedroom apartment. Works two jobs, at the local bakery, near her place, during the day and as a bartender at the bar during the night.

She doesn't necessarily need the money. She works to keep herself busy. To keep herself from sitting idle and remembering the things she desperately wants to forget.

Making her way towards the bakery, she was the first to arrive there. It has always been like this, she's the first to arrive and the last to leave. She fumbled with the keys, her breath forming small clouds in the crisp morning air. With a soft click, she unlocked the door and pushed it open, the familiar scent of fresh bread and vanilla greeting her.

Y/n flipped the sign from "Closed" to "Open" and stepped inside, her movements practiced and efficient. She turned on the lights. The countertops were spotless, and the display cases were lined with freshly baked goods from the previous day, waiting to be restocked.

Soon her coworkers arrived and the bakery came to life with the customers filling in, and the aroma of rising bread and sweet pastries, filling her with warmth she lacked in her life.

Y/n's day went as usual, being in the back, finding solace in the warmth of the kitchen and  taking pleasure in baking goods.

"Hey Y/n." James, her co-worker called out. "Can you take the counter please? Ellie isn't back from her break but mother nature's calling me!" Y/n laughed, nodding her head. "Thank you you're a life saver. I owe you." He yelled running towards the bathroom and she just grinned. She didn't mind helping out.

Y/n made her way outside and stood behind the counter. Rush hour had passed and there weren't many people in the bakery. Just an old man enjoying his cupcakes, and a young couple having donuts with coffee.

The front door opened and the bell chimed indicating someone had walked in. Y/n prepared herself to greet the customer but the minute she looked at him, the air was knocked out of her lungs. He was gorgeous. She stared as he came closer, noting his eyes were the greenest eyes she'd ever seen.

"Hello!" The man said as he finally stopped in-front of her. His voice snapped her out of her trance, it was velvet smooth.

"Hey, what can i get you?" She cleared her throat flashing him a smile.

"Pie." He said with a childlike excitement. "The banner outside said it's Special Pie Day."

"Sure is. And it seems to be your lucky day mister, we're down to our last slice." She smiled before moving to get him his pie. She placed it in a takeaway box and gave it to him and he thanked her before paying for it.

"Have a nice day!" She said to him.

"You too." He replied before walking out.

The rest of the day Y/n spent thinking about of the handsome stranger. After closing up, she went home, she ate the leftover pizza and took a shower. Dressed in her jeans and a blue crop top she left home for her other job.

Time went by as usual, drunk fights, pool hustling and bad karaoke. After serving another patron Y/n wiped the counter top. She threw the paper towel into the bin it missed, so she squatted down to pick it up and throw it in properly this time. She jumped a bit when she stood back up and saw green eyes sitting on the stool.

"What can i get ya?" She questioned the handsome stranger. He recognised her from earlier.

"A beer please."

"If I didn't know any better I'd say you're stalking me." She teased him putting the bottle in front of him.

"Nah, sweetheart. You just happened to be at two of my favourite places." He flashed her a charming smile.

"I haven't seen you around here before." She leaned a bit on the counter trying to remember if she's ever seen him before.

"Just passing by. But a good pie and beer, key to my heart." She nodded her head in understanding, it wasn't the places that were his favourite rather the items.

"Did you like the pie then?" She couldn't help but ask. She knew she was at what she did but it never hurt to ask for a bit of validation.

"Best damn pie I've ever had." He exclaimed.

"Then I guess I've unlocked your heart." She grinned at him.

"You made it?" He questioned and she nodded eagerly. She didn't know what it was about this stranger that made her act like a high school girl but she was having fun. She liked that she had his attention. She wanted to get to know him, even if he was just passing by.

"Well it was some pie..." he trailed off looking at her, hoping to get a name.

"Y/n." She filled in. 

"Dean." He introduced himself.

"So what brings you here Dean?" She asked hoping to find more about the extremely gorgeous man sitting in front of her.

"Work." His vague answer told her he didn't want to talk more about it. So she dropped it. He asked her a few questions about her life here, he didn't ask her any personal questions so she was happy to indulge him. After he was finished with his third beer, he got a call and had to leave, much to her dismay. Fifteen minutes after he left, her shift was over and she headed home.

It was a silent night as she walked in the dark. She could feel another presence behind her and she knew she was being followed. Whoever it was, it's his bad day. She wasn't just a girl and she was really waiting for him to jump her just so she could beat the daylights out of him. But he didn't, and she couldn't risk him follow her all the way to her home so she slowed her steps, and then completely stopped.

"I know you're there." She called out. She moved towards the alley behind the dumpster and saw a figure in the shadows. The figure moved back as she approached him. Another pair of footsteps could be heard from outside the alley. She grabbed the shadow's arm and placed her forearm over his neck, pressing him into the wall, slightly cutting of his oxygen. As she pushed him to the wall, the light from the street lamp shone on his face. "Dean?" She questioned. "So you are stalking me!" His eyes widened as she said that.

"No, this isn't what it looks like!" He replied in a hushed voice.

"Three time's not a coincidence, Dean." She snapped. The sound of another pair of footsteps was getting louder. Dean rolled his eyes, not at her but the approaching footsteps.  Soon enough a man appeared in-front of them and Dean managed to break free from her hold and pushed her behind him. The man in front of him snarled as he barred his teeth in a menacing display. They weren't teeth Y/n noticed. Fangs.

The vampire lunged at Dean and the hunter was quick, getting his machete out of his jacket he charged at him. The vampire pushed at Dean's chest, throwing him against the wall, his machete slipping off his hands. The creature, closed in on Y/n. With calculated moves, she kneed the monster in the stomach.  The green eyed hunter watched as she reached over and picked Dean's machete, beheading the monster in one swift motion. Dean stood up but his jaw was still on the floor.

It was true that he was following her but the other two times he met her was purely coincidental. When he met her at the bakery, he just thought she was pretty. The next time he saw her at the bar, it was pure coincidence, after talking to her, he found her enticing. But then he got the call from his dad asking about his hunt and he remembered he was here for work. So he went back to his motel for research, however during his research he noticed that vamp was taking a certain type of females. Girls with Y/e/c eyes, y/h/c hair and the ones with a specific body type. His mind flashed with an image of Y/n and he immediately left his motel. His assumption had been true since the vamp actually came after her but he didn't expect her to do what she did.

"What did you do?" He asked her.

"Killed him, obviously! And saved your ass." She snapped folding her arms across her chest.

"Damn it Y/n, I could've followed him to his nest." He argued. "I'm gonna have to start over now."

"You wanted to use me as bait? Are you fucking kidding me?" She glared at him. "Stop hunting if it's such a bother to do your job in the first place."

"I wasn't using you as bait, I came to save you. If you hadn't killed him, I would've made him tell me where the rest of them are." He retorted. "Are you a hunter?" He asked after a moment of silence.

"No." She replied unfolding her arms and walking over to the dead creature's body. She patted his pockets hoping to find something that could lead them to his base. Dean scoffed at her response.

"Are you seriously going lie to my face after I just saw you decapitate a vampire?"

"I'm not a hunter Dean." She answered through gritted teeth. She found a cellphone in the vamps pocket, she threw it at Dean who caught it effortlessly. "That might help you." She said walking away.

"Hey.!!" He ran behind her and grabbed her arm as he caught up to her. "I could use the back up, you know." He tried to convince her with his captivating smile. She gave him a deadpan expression. "C'mon sweetheart, I'll owe you." He didn't give two shits about back up. He just didn't want her to leave too soon. Now that he knows he can be himself in front of her, he just wants to spend a bit more time with her.

She narrowed her eyes at him, he fidgeted under her scrutinising gaze and she smirked. "C'mon, out with it, sweetheart." She demanded in a teasing tone. Dean let out a huff.

"I thought you were pretty. But now I think you're smoking, you're badass and it's hot so can you blame a man for wanting to spend some more time with you?" He rubbed the back of his neck bashfully. "Besides you seem to know about this stuff and it's just a cherry on top."

"You could've just said so. Besides now that I think about it, you actually might need backup." He rolled his eyes at her teasing, knowing he's completely capable of holding on his own. "Lead the way." She motioned him to lead the way.

He took her to the Impala and she settled in the passengers seat. It wasn't long before she found herself out a cheap motel. He guided her inside his room and she could see the beds were still made, a few empty beer bottles were placed on the table with his laptop sitting on it. 

"May I?" She gestured to his laptop and he shrugged. She took a seat on the chair, before she could open the computer he jumped a bit before snatching it from her. He gestured her to wait a minute and closed all the tabs before giving it back to her. She gave him an amused look and he looked sheepish. "The phone." She raised her palm out in front of him. She went through the messages, the recent one stating,

Get back ASAP. -Rick

Y/n quickly traced the number and a few minutes later the computer pinged. "I got it." She turned the screen towards Dean and he was impressed by how quickly she found their target.

"Let's go, sweetheart."

It didn't take them long to arrive at the vampire's nest. They quickly sneaked inside the abandoned building, Y/n's grip tight on her borrowed machete. She scanned the area before moving in stealthily. Dean right behind her. As they ventured further into the building, a bit of chatter could be heard over loud music coming from upstairs. The duo nodded at each other and made their way upstairs. It all happened in a flash, Y/n noticed they were seven of them and charged fearlessly. Slashing heads after heads. One of them had managed to knock the machete out of her hand but she didn't falter, she jumped a bit and spin kicked the vampire which made him fall a few feet away with a loud thud. That gave her the opening to grab her weapon and end his life.

Y/n and Dean panted, covered in blood with victorious grins of their faces. Dean had witnessed how she'd kicked the vamp and he was impressed. This girl was astonishing him every second. He wanted to know her, he needed to know the girl who denied being a hunter but fought better than one.

"I believe a celebration is in order." Dean said holding his hand out to her. She grabbed it without hesitation.

"My place, Deano." She whispered in his ear and he swore he felt his blood rush to all the right places. After burning the bodies the two got into the Impala, driving to her place. She let him inside her apartment and closed the door behind her.

"Drink?" She questioned walking into the kitchen. Dean nodded. "Have a seat, make yourself comfortable." She gestured to the couch.

"Nah, don't wanna ruin your couch, sweetheart." Dean replied as she came back with two bottles of beer. He took one graciously and took a big swig.

"Then why don't you strip, sweetheart." He mentally groaned as he's never met a woman like this before. He swore if he was capable, he would've fallen in love with her. Her eyes watched how his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. Leaving her bottle on the coffee table, she moved toward the bathroom. She tossed her top at him before disappearing inside.

"Fuck, this woman." Dean groaned before joining her inside. She was waiting for him under the shower in all her naked glory. Dean didn't waste anytime before stripping off his clothes and joining her. He stepped under the warm water his chest pressing against her back. She could feel his length pressing into her back. She turned around, slamming her lips into his. He grabbed the back of her head, pulling her closer, their lips met in an incredibly intense kiss, charged with a raw, electric heat. The kiss deepened, becoming fierce, that left them both breathless and craving more. He groaned into her mouth.

"Fuck i gotta take you to bed." He growled. As much as he loves a good shower sex he needs to take her to bed, he needs to have a taste of her sweet nectar, he wants her to fall apart on his tongue at least twice before has his way with her, before he spilts her open. Most of all he wants her to enjoy this as much as he does, he wants her to be comfortable.

She nodded before turning off the shower. He picked her up effortlessly, and threw her on the bed. He kissed her once before making his way down between her legs. He buried his head in her core. Lapping at her juices like a starved man. As much as his body ached to be inside of her, he needed her to come undone on his tongue. And she did. Hard.

"I could eat you all day, fuck you're sweeter than any pie I've ever had." He praised kissing the inside of her thighs.

"Dean." She whimpered. "Need you." She was needy for him, she had never wanted a man as much as she him and she didn't even know his last name.

"Patience, baby." He rasped. Fuck, his voice alone was enough for her to lose every last thread of her sanity. And his expert mouth and fingers had her wanting, begging for more.

He hovered above her, his hand resting beside her head. His other hand tracing all over her body as his mouth left open mouth kisses over her neck and chest. Although she was loving being submissive for him, she was running out of patience. Pulling him down slightly she flipped him on his back, moving up to straddle his waist.

"Easy, princess." Dean teased as she positioned herself and sunk down on him. He groaned loudly as he sheathed inside her completely. "Fuck baby." He grunted as she started moving.

"Dean." She gasped as running her hands all over her body. Throwing her head she moved faster.

"Say my name, just like that." He flipped them over so she was under him again. Pulling her legs over his shoulders, he pounded into her. She didn't remember the last time a man had her screaming his name over and over until it was the only thing she remembered. He pressed his lips onto hers, one of his hands wrapping around her throat, adding slight pressure making her roll her eyes in the back of her head. She kept repeating his name like mantra, with each snap of his hips.

After hours of immense pleasure, she'd lost sense of her surroundings, lost count of the times he's made her come, she didn't even know if it was night or day anymore. All she knew that this enigma of a man was making her feel things she'd never felt before. She came back to her sense as she felt Dean rub gentle circles on her skin.

"You okay, sweetheart?" She nodded slowly. "You were amazing baby girl." He grinned at her handing her a glass of water he brought for her.

"You were fantastic." She responded as he settled in the bed with her. He laid back pulling her down to rest her head on his chest. Pretty soon the day's exhaustion took over and she drifted off to slumber.

"We have to. I have to." A blonde girl muttered with no emotion.

"No we don't." She replied looking somber.

"You don't understand, there is no other way." The blonde girl took a step closer.

"We will find a way. This doesn't have to happen.!" She exclaimed walking backwards.

"I am sorry." Was the last thing she heard the blonde girl say.

A loud scream, woke Dean from his slumber. He shot up and watched Y/n sit up beside him. Her eyes were wide open and she was out of breath.

"Hey hey! Sweetheart, just a nightmare, yeah?" Dean nodded at her, slowly coaxing her.

Not just a nightmare.

"Yeah!" Dean gathered her in his arms, placing a kiss on her head. He didn't know why but his is heart was aching for the girl in his arms. He felt the need to protect her. He gently laid her back on the bed, his arms tightening around her. She felt safe in his arms. She wanted to ask him to stay forever. But she knew she couldn't and she knew he wouldn't.

Dean's woke up as he heard vibrations coming from somewhere. He snuggled into her neck further, but his eyes flew open as he realised it was his phone buzzing. He slipped out of the bed, tripping on his feet as he rushed towards his phone. He somehow managed to pull it out of his jeans before it stopped ringing.

"Fuck." He cursed as he saw the called ID. It was his dad. "Yeah Dad!" He said answering the phone. "Yeah. No, I forgot. It's done." Dean waited for his father to finish speaking so he could go back to the baddie in bed, cuddle her, wake her up with his head between her legs. But his father ordered him to be back in three hours. Since there's no use for him to stay there if the job's done. "Yes, Sir." Dean muttered before hanging up. He knows it's a long drive and he'd only make it in there in three hours if he left right now. There's no time for a quickie and the thought made him groan.

Y/n yawned and stretched as she woke up to an empty bed. She tried not to feel disappointed that he was gone; she knew he would leave eventually. But she had hoped for at least a goodbye. She heard footsteps approaching. Dean emerged through the doorway and flashed her a smile.

"Good morning."

"I thought you left," she mumbled, pulling the covers closer to her body. He inched closer, then kneeled on the bed before her.

"You really thought I'd leave without saying goodbye?" he asked softly, his voice tinged with surprise and amusement. He nugded her nose with his before pressing his lips to her. She gasped as he slipped his tongue inside her mouth. She pulled him closer, pulling him above her, but he pulled apart. "As much I'd love to, I have to leave. My dad called." He explained kissing her pout.

"Alright."

"This is goodbye?" Dean questioned.

"You can stop by whenever you want." She shrugged. Dean nodded.

"Do you think I can call you for backup?" He asked getting dressed.

"Don't you even dare." She threatened even when they both knew they hadn't exchnaged numbers, they didn't even know anything about each other apart from their names. He chuckled placing one last kiss on her lips before leaving her house.

Over the years Dean often thought about Y/n. She was the only woman ever that made Dean's heart leap out of his chest. He was beautiful, fierce, a badass when it came to hunting, but still had a graceful feminine touch to her personality. He was pretty sure she had ruined every other woman for him. His hookups were all meaningless and never enticed him to go for another night. He had every intention to go back to Y/n, visit her, maybe beg her to come with him. But due to this life, he never got the opportunity. Part of him stayed away because she didn't want to do anything with hunting, and he wasn't sure if he could bear her rejection. So he never tried.

Ten years had passed the bakery owner Mrs. Reed passed away and left the bakery in Y/n's name as she had no kin of her own. And she loved Y/n dearly. The old woman knew she was passionate about her job and was worthy of owning the place.

Dean never came back. Y/n never expected him to or even remember her. Y/n was thirty four now. Dean had managed to leave an impression on her. She tried not to think of him often. But this is life. You meet people, you remember some, you forget some. But there's some people she desperately wanted to forget but yet her mind wouldn't let her.

She stopped working at the bar ever since she inherited the bakery, but she still visited the bar on weekends. Having a drink or two. Had she known what awaited her, she would've never left her house that day. Y/n was by the pool table, a glass of whiskey in her hands as she watched the game between between two bulky men.

Her eyes wandered around the place ever so often. Her breath caught in her throat as she made eye contact with those blue eyes. She gulped down her drink in one go. She hoped he didn't recognise her but the smirk on his face said otherwise. She watched as one of men was positioned to take his shot, she accidentally stumbled into him ruining his shot. The large man turned to her and she cowered back in fear.

"He told me to do it." She pointed to his opponent and the large man turned to him. Grabbing him by his collar he threw a punch at his face. A fight broke out, creating enough diversion for her slip away.

"That was clever Y/n." A voice said from behind her as she walked out of the bar. "But you should know it isn't enough to outrun me." She stepped dead in her tracks as turned to face him. There was no way to run. Now that he knows she's alive, there's no way she could ever run. 

"Mr.Ketch." She stuttered taking a step back.

"I never believed you died." He took a step forward. His thick accent still the same as she remembered. "Even if you were nineteen, you were one of the best." She watched in anticipation as he inched closer. "Though I never thought I'd run into you in America."

She was terrified of him. If it had been anyone else, she would've tried to run. If it had been anyone else, she might've felt relieved that they hadn't hurt her yet. But this was him—ruthless, calculating. The more he stalled, the more her fear grew. He liked to make his prey think they had a chance to escape. He liked the chase.

"Mr.Ketch." She spoke again, but she didn't even know what else to say.

"I just don't understand how'd you do it? How did you run from the Men of Letters. And more importantly why?" He circled around her. "Ah you know what, don't bother. I'm not interested."

"Why are you here?" She finally mustered the courage to question him. "I have been living a normal life, I haven't told anyone anything about the Men of Letters." She added feeling the need to explain.

"Don't flatter yourself, darling." Arthur snipped in his usual tone. "I'm not here for you, though it is a pleasant surprise to see you here." A moment of silence passed and Ketch gripped her arm tightly. "Now that I think about it. You're coming with me." She knew struggling against him would be a waste of her energy. He dragged her towards his vintage looking motorcycle.

The ride was short, she didn't recognise where he was taking her. They stopped in front of what looked like a base, located in a hidden bunker. It appeared to be deeply hidden and fortified. He placed his hand on the biometric scanner, the security gate opened and he dragged in her inside the by arm.

He nudged her move on her own, he opened a door to what seemed to be a briefing room. There were screens placed all over the place, some showed maps, locations and security footage of God knows what places. A huge table with chairs was set up in the middle. The door opened for a second time and someone entered the room while her back was to the door.

"Look what I found." Ketch announced, turning her around forcefully. Her heart stopped for a minute when her gaze landed on the newcomer. Those eyes, the ones she memorised fifteen years ago, stared back at her with an unreadable expression. That scar across his right cheek was the same as she remembered.

"Mick." She breathed out. He was frozen in his place. He never thought he'd ever get to see her. He had always hoped and prayed for her safety. Seeing her back in the same hell again, the one he rescued her from, he didn't know how to feel.

She didn't care if she shouldn't have done it in front of Ketch but she ran straight into his arms. Her best friend. The one that helped her when she it needed the most. The one who risked his life help her run. As the initial shock wore off, Mick wrapped his arms around her. Hugging her tightly, not wanting to let go. He'd missed her.

"Well, isn't it heartwarming." Ketch said sarcastically, from behind her, making them pull apart.

"What do you want from me?" She snapped, her fear now turning into anger and frustration.

"Now that is a very good question, darling." Ketch clicked his fingers before towering her. "What do you think will happen when the Elders find out a rogue hunter is alive?" He sneered as he spoke. "They'd issue your death warrant. And trust me I would love to carry out those orders."

There was no doubt that he was right, Y/n knew and Mick did too. They would have her killed. The main reason Mick declared her dead was to ensure they would never look for her ever again. And that plan had been successful for fifteen years- until today. Until Ketch found her.

"I have a job for you. Complete it, or you won't live to see another sunrise." Ketch said retrieving his gun from his gear. "So what's it gonna be?" He questioned pointing the gun to her head.

"What's the job?" Ketch smirked at her answer and Mick let out a resigned sigh.

"Eliminate the Winchesters. From within."

Y/n didn't know who the Winchesters were or why the British Men of Letters were so concerned about them. But knowing Ketch as she did, she was sure he wouldn't hesitate to assassinate the Winchesters if it weren't so complicated.

"Mick here will tell you whatever you need to know," Ketch said, grabbing his stuff. Turning to her, he added, "And Y/n, one wrong move." He warned, pointing his gun at her to emphasize that he wouldn't hesitate to shoot. She nodded meekly before he left.

"Oh god." She let out a breath as the menacing man left the room. She turned to Mick embracing him again. He patted her back, calming her down. "How have you been?" She asked pulling away to look at him.

"I've been better. I'm ecstatic to see you, but I'm terrified for what might happen to you." He replied, his familiar accent soothing her. She gave him a small smile.

"Don't worry about me, Micky." He rolled his eyes at her for using his old nickname she'd given him. "I've had a great life thanks to you. After I'm done with these Winchesters, I might end up killing Ketch and maybe we can run away. I'm not leaving my best friend behind this time." She said sounding determined.

"Sure thing kiddo." He ruffled her hair. She pouted slapping his hand away. She hated when he did that.

"Fill me in about these Winchesters." She said plopping down on one of the chairs.

"They're brothers. American hunters, currently residing in a Men of Letters bunker in Lebanon, Kansas." Mick stated sitting beside her.

"What's Wretch's beef with them?" She questioned. Mick let out a laugh knowing who she was referring to.

"It's not a personal conflict. They're meddling with business." Mick replied.

"Such as?"

Mick gave her a look. She immediately understood that the Winchesters weren't fond of their methods. The British Men of Letters had no regard for collateral damage, as long as their goals were achieved. It was one of the reasons Y/n got out. She had had enough of having innocent blood on her hands.

"And why can't that cunt deal with them himself?" She asked.

"They've proven to be a bit unpredictable. They've outsmarted him. And they're resilient as hell." Mick informed her, a smirk appeared on her face.

"I like these Winchesters. At lease someone gave Wretch hell." She snickered. Mick chuckled before dropping a file in front of her. The file was labeled as 'Winchesters'. She flipped the file open and read through it.

Sam and Dean Winchester. The name Dean brought back memories, her mind flashed with the images of the green eyed hunter. Her eyes widened as realisation hit. Dean, American Hunter. She flipped through the file for a photo. When she found one attached to the page with a paperclip, she removed it and inspected closely. The man in the photo looked familiar, he no longer had that boyish charm on his face, he looked her older. But those eyes. Those green eyes.

Son of a bitch.

Y/n mulled things over, he probably won't even remember her. But does she want to play puppet for Ketch. She ran away from this god forsaken organisation for a reason. But then she knew Ketch wouldn't just kill her. He would torture her, mentally and physically. She could bear the physical pain being inflicted onto her but she knows he would drag Mick into this to break her. And she can't let that happen. She owed him her life, her happiness, those fifteen years she spent as a normal human being. He'd always treated like a little sister and she'd seen him like the big brother she never had. She can't let anything happen to him. She won't.

"I guess I got work to do." Y/n mumbled closing the file. "Call Wretch." She told Mick. The man nodded and called Ketch. The man came back with a stoic look on his face. "Final goal?" She questioned.

"On our side or dead." Ketch replied.

"When I do this, you'd better keep your pestering ass out of my way. And don't you dare show up anywhere near me!" Ketch scoffed at her threat. "I'm serious, those guys hate your guts and I don't want to be seen with you. Don't want your incompetence to mess up my work." This triggered Ketch and his face twitched a bit but he held back.

"Be my guest." He taunted before leaving again.

Mick helped her get back to her apartment. She dropped on her bed as she formulated a plan.

Plan A, get them to be partners with the British Men of Letters.

Plan B, Elimination.

She hoped it never came to Plan B.

Y/n knew her best shot at getting close to the Winchesters would be Dean. She'd read about them, the British Men of Letters had kept an eye on them for a long time. She knew Sam would be a bit suspicious of her but given her past with Dean, she could manage to accomplish her mission. Out of all the places in the country, Y/n never thought Dean would settle down here, in Lebanon. How come she never ran into him she wondered, but then again, she never went out much, just the bakery or the bar. It makes her question why he never visited her. Maybe he did forget about her.

Y/n visited the bar Dean visited frequently, according to the files. She'd been here for the fourth day in a row and he hadn't showed up yet again. She wanted to run into him accidentally, just so he wouldn't get suspicious of her. It wasn't unlikely for him to bump into an old fling at the bar. It would be completely coincidental. The door to the bar opened and walked in the green eyed hunter she'd been waiting for.

If he looked gorgeous back then Y/n didn't know how to describe him now. His features a bit more rugged, his hair a bit tousled, a bit of stubble present on his jaw and she pressed her thighs together, wanting to feel that scruff between her legs.

She downed her drink quickly as she watched him take a seat on one of the stools by the bar. She quickly made her way towards him. She lightly tapped on his shoulder and waited for him to turn around.

Dean wasn't in the mood to be bothered by anyone, and he certainly didn't want to deal with an annoying woman clinging onto his side. He presumed if he'd act uninterested, whoever it was, would leave him alone. But they persisted, tapping on his shoulder once again. He grumbled before turning around, ready to tell the intruder to fuck off but time froze as he did.

Dean didn't believe his eyes, it was Y/n. She was right in front of him. In the flesh. She logged a bit older than the last time he saw her. Her y/h/c was a bit longer, her body had grown, in more ways than one. She was a pretty girl but she's turned into an even more beautiful woman. He blinked a bit when he heard her call his name.

"Dean? Dean, you zoned out."

"Fucking hell. Y/n!" It wasn't a question. It was an exclamation. He remembered her. "Goodness, sweetheart. Look at you." Dean beamed. "Still beautiful as ever."

"And look at you, still charming as ever." She replied with a grin. He missed her. He missed this. She was the only woman who could tease him and match his flirty banter.

"How have you been?" Dean asked her.

"Been good. Though I'm a bit upset." She pouted. Although she was doing a job, she couldn't help but say what she felt.

"Why is that, sweetheart?"

"Well you're here, and you didn't visit." She replied honestly. He hadn't expected her to say that. He never thought she'd want him to visit her. "Is there a girlfriend or a wife I should know of?"

"None." He replied. At his answer she stepped closer, wrapping her arms around his neck, his arms immediately circling her waist.

"Missed you." She whispered in his ear making him shudder. The woman that has been invading his dreams for the past ten years is back in his arms and he was losing control. He dragged his nose through the column of her neck, inhaling her scent.

"Missed you too baby." If she was being honest, being back in his arms made her forget why she was there in the first place. Although she'd barely spent 24 hours with him in total, she'd missed him immensely over the years. "Let's get out of here, yeah?" She nodded, he turned and threw a few bills to cover for his beer. His arm never leaving her waist, he pulled towards the Impala. "You still live at the same place?" She nodded again as he pulled the car out of the parking.

They reached her place soon enough but none of them were eager to rip their clothes off of each other. With his hand tightly clutched in hers, she pulled him to the couch Dean's strong arms encircle Y/n, holding her close against his chest, where they can feel the steady beat of his heart. His warmth surrounds her. Dean's fingers lazily trace patterns on Y/n's back, his touch gentle and reassuring. Y/n nestles her head against the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent she missed so much. It hasn't even been an hour since she was back in his arms, and she's already considering telling Ketch to fuck off.

"What have you been up to these days?"

"Hunting. What about you?" Dean shifts slightly, pulling Y/n even closer, and presses a soft kiss to the top of her head. There's a quiet contentment in the air, the kind that comes from being with someone who makes you feel safe and cherished. Neither of them knew just how desperately they wanted each other, until now.

"Ah same old. I'm the owner of the bakery now. And i stopped working at the bar."

"That's amazing, sweetheart."

"When are you leaving?" Her question echoed through the quiet apartment. He tensed slightly; he hadn't told her he lived here now. He wasn't ready for her reaction upon discovering he'd been living here for years and never bothered to visit. Not this soon But he knew he had to come clean sooner or later. If he wanted something more with her—something real this time—he needed to tell her the truth.

"I'm not." She looked at him with curious eyes, although she knew he was living in the Men of Letters bunker with his brother. She knew almost everything about him— yet here she was, pretending. She hated doing it. "I live here with my brother. Have been for a while."

"I see." She replied looking down at his chest. A part of her was hurt that he had been living her and he didn't come find her. If Ketch hadn't appointed her with this job, she would've never met Dean again.

"Cmon, don't be like that, sweetheart. I wanted to come see you. I just thought maybe you'd moved on, had someone in your life. We didn't exactly make any promises." He rubbed the back of his head. "Besides, I don't think I would've been able to handle seeing you with someone else." A smile broke onto her features at his admission.

"There hasn't been anyone. No one was the flirty green-eyed hunter." She grinned up at him. It was the truth, she did meet other people over the years but they weren't Dean.

"I was wondering, if you'd want to give us a real chance? I know this is sudden, we just met again-" she didn't let him complete, she stopped him mid sentence by pressing her lips to his.

"I'd love to." Y/n was now questioning her own skills; she hadn't been on a job for fifteen years. The lines were blurring for her. She wasn't sure if she'd be able to complete this job or get herself killed by Ketch. Whatever it was, she didn't care in that moment. She wanted Dean. And he was willing to himself to her.

Dean stayed the night but nothing happened. Y/n served Dean the pie in her fridge, she loved how his face lit up like a child. Even after years his love for pie was still the same. The curled up in bed, catching up on each other's lives they missed over the years.

"Your best friend is an angel?" She looked at him incredulously. He chuckled at her reaction and nodded.

"Yeah. He's more like a baby in a trench coat."His laugh made her smile sadly. The more he told her about his life, the more she was second guessing this job. Is she really going to kill him and his brother if they don't cooperate with the British Men of Letters.

"I'm sorry Dean." He looked down at her with a questioning gaze. "The years haven't been kind to you." She pressed a soft kiss to his chest. "I can't even imagine how you'd felt, going to hell, purgatory. I'm so sorry." She cupped his cheek, staring in those green eyes that'd seen so much. There's pain but there's adoration, for her.

"It's in the past." He shrugged nonchalantly. He didn't know what possessed him to tell her his life story but he wanted to tell her everything. He wanted to be emotionally connected with her, he wanted it to be real, more than just a physical relationship. "Go to sleep, sweetheart." He kissed her forehead as she snuggled closer to him.

Tags:

@spnfamily-j2 @galway-girlatwork @deangirl96 @queensilber

@s0urw00lf @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @deans-baby-momma @fullbelieverheart

@riah1606 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @hobby27

@starkleila @suckitands33 @m3ntally-unstable @kanekilovelove-blog @candy-coated-misery0731

[touratoura]

TV Show idea: A Christian woman named Juliet moves into a new neighborhood, hoping to find a husband and have a child. After moving into her new home, she goes to meet her next-door neighbors - and is horrified to find out it’s a loud, party-girl, dirty mouthed black lesbian named Maggie Dalene and her smart, CEO girlfriend Mary (played by Laverne Cox). Juliet does everything she can to try and turn them to Christ. She does it both forward and subtle. While she does this, she also meets and falls in love with a man named Paul, and starts visiting the local orphanage to bring the kids there to faith.

The main plot points of the first season:

Juliet’s (failed) attempts to convert Mary and Maggie. They keep running into each other. Maggie goes the opposite way and tries to get Juliet to relax a little. Juliet is especially concerned when Christmas comes around and they bring out the Menorah.

Juliet meets three triplets at the orphanage named Jesus, Emmy, and Susej. Susej is the only girl. Juliet tries to get the three Jewish kids to convert, but they refuse. She also tries to get Emmy to go by his full name, Emmanuel - but he finds it stupid.

Lucifer and Abbadon (Lucy and Abby) are a gay gender-unconforming couple who have extremely random jobs everywhere. They seem to be working everywhere. Cashiers, fake-Gucci boot sellers, librarians, janitors, shelf restockers, anything. They’re there. No one else mentions it. It drives Juliet insane. She finds the idea of them being feminine men disturbing, but she can’t call them anything but Lucy and Abby as she refuses to say the Devil’s name. She also finds Abby being black disturbing.

It’s often hinted at that Susej is the Antichrist. And by hinted at I mean she’s always staring piercingly into empty space, whispering threateningly, and is always there when things go wrong. Also her eyes occasionally go black and she starts floating and speaking ancient curses. Juliet is terrified. No one else notices.

Jesus is friends with a group of 12 boys from the orphanage, named Peter, James, John, Andrew, Phillip, Judas I, Matthew, Thomas, James A, Bart, Judas T, and Simon. Jesus goes by Jeezy-boi. The others go by Peezy, Jazzy, Jozzy, Azzy, Pheezy, Jewzy, Meezy, Teezy, Jameezy, Beezy, Yeezy, and Seezy. They’re all played by 12-year-olds, except Yeezy, who’s played by a Kanye West-lookalike. It’s never remarked upon. He talks like Kanye.

Juliet tries to get Mary to turn to God. She will often compare her to her “namesake”, Mary of Jesus fame, to show her the “right side”. Mary takes none of it and points out that Mary and Jesus were Jewish. Mary is very no-nonsense when it comes to these things. Mary is heavily implied to actually BE Mother Mary as she knows things the church doesn’t.

Paul keeps accidentally calling Juliet Jennifer. She doesn’t notice. He’s often drunk and rude to waiters and retail workers. Juliet is too, mind you. He hides his phone and yells a lot. He complains about Juliet’s decision to “wait until marriage”, but doesn’t mind her being anti birth control.

At the end of season 1, Juliet gets married to Paul. He barely gets the vows right at the wedding. Mary and Maggie go out for an unknown trip. There’s a time skip of a few months. Maggie and Mary are celebrating outside of their house, because Maggie just won a Noble Prize in Chemistry. Maggie is yelling “I won! I won!” Juliet smiles and says, “No. I won.” She’s holding a baby in her arms. Maggie paused for a moment and responds “No baby, I won. Paul’s gonna leave yo ass in 3 seconds. You gon have to raise that baby alone. And who says we ain’t got kids?”

Jesus skates by on a skateboard with a cowboy hat. He tips his hat to them as he passed. Emmy is running behind him in a pink skirt. Juliet places her baby down momentarily to talk with them, as Susej comes up and starts whispering to the baby. It nods, and she smiles, before disappearing in a cloud of black smoke. She reappears behind Mary. End of Season 1.

This isn’t a prompt but I would gladly accept criticism and more ideas. And characters. I’m open.

[afyrian]

☆ chapter one - bud and sprout m.list

    snow slowly falls to the ground, leaving a light dusting across every sidewalk and mailbox. small fir trees find their way across the city, covered in large string lights and snow. your old white snow boots trudge across the street, two bouquets in each respective arm. one of them features poinsettias for the season, the other being a usual bouquet of roses and baby's breath. 

  while you'd never find yourself forcing a customer into another bouquet, you can't help but yearn for the daffodils and the snowdrops to have their moments. and the smell of jasmine flowers has always been what you've preferred over roses. especially as you carry them down the sidewalk, the sweet smell contaminating your nose and carrying through the wind as you enter the first shop. 

  stepping into your local antique shop, the first thing you smell is a candle that smells like it's been burning for eternity. mixed with the smell of books and a light layer of dust, you know you're at home. "hello... i have your poinsettia order, from calla lily," you look around, wondering where the owner could be today.

  "y/n! thank you for bringing it around, i'm in the process of unloading some books so if you could drop that off at the counter i would be indebted to you," she looks up from behind a few cabinets, a smile propping up on her face.

  setting it down beside the register, you look back at her, giving a soft goodbye. opening the front door, you step back into the cold, the snow falling back down onto you. looking down at your phone to check the time, you take a step forward, feeling something hard hit into your side and cheek. recoiling back, you expect something hard to hit into the back of your head, but all you feel is a soft hand grabbing at yours.

  looking up at the individual, his soft silhouette illuminates from the sun streaming through the clouds, and you can feel your breath catch in your throat. the stranger's hair spikes upwards, a concerned frown on his lips quickly morphing into a smile. “i’m so sorry, i’m so late for this meeting my boss is going to kill me,” he quickly pulls you up, accidentally bringing you far too close to his face.

  you stand there for a moment, staring into his eyes. swallowing the saliva in your throat, you shake your head, “it’s okay…”

  “and i destroyed your bouquet, i am so sorry,” the stranger grabs at his briefcase’s handle and stuffs it under his arm, picking up the squished bouquet from below the briefcase’s leathery texture.

  handing off the paper wrapped roses to you, he lifts his wrist up into view. pulling back his suit jacket just slightly, his eyes widen as pure shock overrides him. “how much is the bouquet? i’ll repay you,” the stranger starts to pull out his wallet, not even letting you reply as he starts sorting out a fifty or two.

  “i made this bouquet, i’ll just make a new one for my customer. you really don’t-” he doesn’t even give you a second to finish talking before he’s stuffing a twenty and a fifty into your hand.

  his hands are still so soft against yours, hands cupping around yours. “i’m so sorry again, i can not be even more late to this meeting,” the mysterious, and oddly endearing businessman grabs the briefcase out from under his arm, already hurrying down the sidewalk.

  laughing to yourself, you yell out to him, “if you ever have a bouquet you need, get it it at calla lily! think of it as the best apology you can make!”

  he turns back to look at you, still running rather recklessly. giving you a wave with his free hand, the man shouts back to you in a tone that could only be described as whimsy and excitement. “i might just take you up on that offer!” quickly turning back around, he turns a corner, ignoring the snow that kicks up with every step.

  shaking your head, you look down at your bouquet, finally taking in the damage. the roses are flattened and the baby’s breath has dwindled into a few petals and leaves. grabbing out your phone, you start walking down the sidewalk, messaging the cafe’s owner with a warning that the roses will be delivered later than expected. 

  snow falls onto your phone’s screen with every message, your hand swiping off the droplets of water every few seconds. looking up from your phone, you press the crosswalk button. the soft hue of the traffic lights shine through the falling snow. bright enough that anyone can see it, but just low enough that it isn’t blinding for anyone traveling through. 

  as the light changes, you walk through, thinking back to the mysterious man that you ran into. the way the light surrounded him making him look like he was some winter angel saving you from a worse fate. even the way his smile widened as soon as he realized you were okay made your stomach flutter with the feeling of butterflies. just something about him made him so memorable.

  and you can already picture yourself running into him again. maybe it would be at the cafe or you’d find yourself next to him on the sidewalk again. you know you could sit there for hours on end, wondering if anything could’ve come from your meeting, if it weren’t for yachi ending your fantasies with a wave.

  “i’m gonna go deliver these bouquets to some of the residential areas, can you stay here until i get back?” she calls out from the front door of your shop, leaning out with her jacket sprawled out over her shoulders, a sloppy scarf thrown over her shoulders. 

  giving her a thumbs up, you walk up to the shop, “yeah, i just need to deliver a bouquet for new grounds because this one was unfortunately destroyed. well, not totally unfortunately…”

  looking back at yachi, she raises an eyebrow at you. “okay you can’t just say that and not explain what the ‘not totally unfortunately’ means,” she leans up against the store’s counter.

  “well, i was looking at my phone when some guy runs into me,” you start explaining, setting down the destroyed bouquet, “and i thought i was gonna crack my skull open or something… until he caught me, like full on, caught me.”

  taking off your scarf, you hang it up on the coat rack, quickly setting your coat up with it too, “and he payed me for the bouquet, and i don’t know. he was just memorable in the best way possible. i don’t even know why.”

  “someone has a budding crush…”

  “sure, like i’ll ever see him again,” you shrug your shoulders while sitting down by the company’s computer. refreshing the page reveals a new order for a dozen tulips, ordered for an in-store pickup. 

taglist (open): @eggyrocks @causenessus @applepi25 @softpia @bakery-anon

@nekozaki @nnnyxie @kameyyy @grassbutneo @asrichin

@boosyboo9206 @anqelkoz @rriwyu @ssabvln @thesleepingrose

@chososcamgirl @lale-txt

[saoirseyun]

— .ᐟ ౨ৎ . . . 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞. 001

𝖲𝖸𝖭𝖮𝖯𝖲𝖨𝖲 — today is the day, at last. much less to your own relief, however. attending your wedding in the local prefecture, aomori; and leave once and for all that drenched life in the brothel... let's only hope that you last in your new life.

𝖢𝖮𝖭𝖳𝖤𝖭𝖳 𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦 — unreliable narrator, bad writing? idk its been a while since i wrote long works, blunt humor, mentions of sex, taboos, historical inaccuracies, unsettling behavior from dazai, possibly poor depictions of Japanese culture, no beta we die like oda

𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖧𝖮𝖱'𝖲 𝖭𝖮𝖳𝖤 — happy new year & rn im screaming crying bc here it is! my first fic after march 30th. please do enjoy to your heart's content~

𝖶𝖮𝖱𝖣 𝖢𝖮𝖴𝖭𝖳 — 3.0k words, partially proofread

CHECK OUT HALF AN HOUR FOR LOVE, OVERVIEW.

Japanese terminology; kamuro - a female child servant who serves courtesans temporarily until they graduate. shinzō - a young female servant, older than the kamuros, who also serves courtesans but has now been fully bought by the brothel. one/ne - to refer an older sister. obasan - "aunt" or "middle-aged woman" in Japanese. kitsune no yomeiri - a folktale about foxes having a wedding. The belief varies between being a good omen or a bad omen. nanakorobi yaoki - Japanese proverb for resilience. kanji - Japanese writing system in the form of borrowed Chinese characters.

Honorifics; chan - Term of endearment. san - One with respect. sama - One with higher respect and is formal. dono - Literally used like "My lord." ue - Denotes a high status.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓.

It poured rain that day; paint the skies with suspense and tension between the pristine clouds, a sunshower. When a beloved shinzō gingerly applied a sweet shade of peach blush to your cheeks and covered your face in salient white powder; stroking bold, black liner to your lower lid with a thin brush as to regard high standards of beauty whilst you remain aimless to admire the falling drops of water hit the eaves of your dormitory—drip back to the ground. You were at the least comforted with the weather's appearance coming abroad to stay as your companion, however still, oh so not much relaxed with the hour of your wedding ticks close to its arrival. You didn't even have a single chance to know who is taking your hand in marriage, for goodness sake. A subtly, a few weeks back you were informed by a close woman that a fine gentleman is likely interested in getting committed to you...

You've perk at the voice of the 30-year-old shinzō. In question, belongs to beloved friendly Akashi. Genuinely the definition of safe haven in your case if it counts close friends. "Oi, Jun'ai! A fine fellow been's collective to have you as his own, aren't you aware? Madam-sama does keeping 'em around too! By the teahouse." Her accent's rough and undoubtedly native to common farm villages—and also not forgetting to mention that charisma's energetic and careless as ever today, without a doubt of surprise of course. And bright yells as the poor Akashi had such terrible hearing, she'll never know how loud she is. Gushing you over to the area, finding the old lady herself amidst the aftermath of such agreement, dare say. There's a signed paper with extravagant black ink, strokes elegant front of the elder—smirking with pride regardless of you chiming in to inquire about the stranger.

Who, you may ask, but she simply says that it's best to keep it a surprise… You weren't able to keep composure since that day.

As who does that?! Outrageous, utterly outrageous, you'd whisper harsh mutters only thinking about it even a single time in a day. Oftentimes resist the urge of cursing at that damn woman for casting you aside in saving grace for the brothel's funding and, many of other's finances.

Eyeing your dear assistant tuck delicate, golden pins and fine décor to your lovely hair—all you can do in anticipation was hope he was also a good-looking, refined man who wasn't either younger or older than your age. Preferably of status, sure, that's a most likely. He manages to pay double the amount for you to leave your workplace, after all. He has to be, otherwise you're immediately disappointed by your own lack of judgement. You need to be a lot more cruel to yourself, but it hurts plentiful.

"...Nee-san? Are you feeling okay?" Voiced the young 14-year-old. Who consist attentive to adding your makeup to the delicate skin and face. Her face visuals a pit of worry you'd rarely see in this type of workload. You weren't even sure how to react. "I will be all right," Is what you answered reluctantly.

But the shinzō knew you best.

She was drowning into you eyes a lot more personal, and, rather heartwarming. A sigh. "Ōnami-chan, I beg. It's not of high relevance..."

"If it refers to you, then it has to be." The younger girl insists while she timid to touch your sleeve. Still much a grown-up child, sometimes you forget that too... Your fingers met the scalp of your head out of stress and uncertainty of what to put it. "...Trust me now. This can be excused." Despite having this unsaturated need to tell your closest servant everything without regard and loosening the grasps of staying ideally perfect, no complaints.

The only thing you were to offer in the end was a weightless fondle in her neat hair. Affection like being a genuine member of one's family or just reassuring an immature girl who, yes—older and very well more aware, still innocent and a tiny tad bit of cluelessness. Two reasons can go a long way.

Perhaps she wondered to your conflicted state as to why the reaction. The situation at hand is, at least by an outsider's perspective, is dream-like. Watching her older sister, the woman she has served since childhood to be married off to some well-known or not handsome noble of the court. What fantasy, unfortunately it's our reality.

"Nee-san, do you adore him to some degree?" How where you to speak to a question as broad and vague as this... That you were obviously not into a man that you didn't even knew existed, how could one love? "To be frank, I am not the most interested..." Even when the life of nobility and esteemed high ranks sound greatly to one's likely. "I can't help imagine but break the poor man's heart sooner or later if it so be it. Either that or potentially unhappy in my own marriage."

"Will I last more than a month there?"

The answer to such is as unclear as midday mist, compared at even evening's pouring drops of rain.

"...Do me a favor, Ōnami-chan. Visit me once in a while—let's say every other month. Then, must you always be sure that I am well and whether or not I'm returning back to this life. I'll write a letter to a buddhist temple in case."

It was too much to do out your own distrust and anxiety in him, of course. Maybe you're exaggerating, and yet only can the Gods know what may happen in time's passing. The most richest people of them all tends to be the nastiest... Heeding your words, the shinzō smiles.

"Okay!" A certain heartfelt warm in your veins. The little girl Ōnami was sure to keep that to her mind.

With the bare minimum of excitement inside of your heart, you've scurry yourself out of the brothel as a final leave to your old world into the carriage—hurriedly saying spoken goodbyes to the kind workers and fellow courtesans, the sweet little kamuros reckless to play out their times in the stunning gardens and hardworking shinzōs… And, yes, of course—do not forget your Obasan on the way. She might as well demean your name quicker in the whorehouse than disgracing the family bloodline and lineage. That out of your way at last, seated on the backseat as the couch leaves the Red Lantern District. To which, the moving world in the foreground of your eyes although you've went into a state of another faint reverie inside your head. On which the scenery fades and soon, a vivid trance that can only be described as unexplainable. Inexplicable dread to your veins just raises your discomfort knowing that you... You were living fine well enough. But... but of course! Why wouldn't the Madam accept such rising numbers on papers? What else was there to make of the situation than romanticise? You must be at least sicker than a loose serial killer.

Stiff optimism fixates your face. Looking out to the carrier and spot every little couple on the roads complete such mundane tasks together under the rain in a sake of not facing loneliness. You weren't sure of a word anymore on what to do. However, making these ceremonies intercept to that kind of point... Ah, how it sickens. The way of ill that's akin to the waves disrupt your unfortunate stomach during a sail travel. In all actuality—case in point—its sensation were although too alike to what you're going through at the moment attending to the wedding. The silence deafens you to a premature funeral! Hearing voices now seems a lot more comforting.

Alas, onwards moment's finality, the carriage stops to the relief of the body. Motion itself places to a hault and your entourage of men escorts you off the ride with the protection of an umbrella covering your head. Here's when your form itself took full stillness and enters a sort, self-control state. Your movements are gracious as ever but you're definitely not moving as to avail. You could only think what's to come. Relentless. Think of your life, over and endless until the head's decomposed itself into liquids. Not even the presence of the clan head's eldest child manages to snap you out of musing.

"...You should be the luxurious Jun'ai-san, is that correct?" The woman sat across the table from yours. She was calm and obviously held regard to such respect in the house as murmurs and shy stares from young maidens chatter about her in disclose, their own little fantasy, a kind of imagination you've grown used to from those disgusting men in the sex industry. What pigs. You've snapped back, forcing your head to the topic at hand as ahe serves the matcha tea. You nod, "Splendid. Then may you refer to me as Dazai Masako, if you will. I'm glad that you're able to make it to our humble mansion." You twinkle at her words and show signs of flattery—although having heard exchanges like these from wealthy clients in the past... "The pleasure is mine to meet you."

"I'm sure you're aware why I've arrived?" You inquire, to be more certain as Masako then flicks her head. Only for it to fade into a slight, disappointed frown. "...Marry my younger brother Osamu, yes, I'm acknowledged. Pardon my critique, however, kind lady. Except you're prohibited to fully engage with my son." Says the clan head's eldest—the sister—who... Pause, what? Hold on. Now hasn't the supervisor explained to you in person that the wedding's immediate? Today, in particular! "Yes, originally so." Masako clarifies, she gestures to an open windows. "Yet as you may noticed much earlier before entering the abode, the weather is not ideal. Therefore, shall it grant misfortune over the lovebirds and ruin the gathering for guests alike. My sincerest apologies..." White powder stains light to your fingertips as you can't foresee this day getting doubled the horrible! It's a tragedy... In your entire own sense, there is not a single opportunity at chance will you ride a half-soggy carriage of return. You didn't knew the folklore of kitsune no yomeiri migrated to Aomori as well. Dazai-ue continues,

"It would be our honour to offer the comfort hospitality of this house. And I suppose it shan't be an issue for you to see him at once. It surely have been long way here to Aomori, yes? We will discuss the formalities soon after meeting Osamu..." ...Roughly translates to tomorrow. The head of the clan's task for you to see him by now seems too easy, but it had to be some pity.

"...Yes." A reluctant answer to your rose-colored lips. Did the products still look good after cold winds meet the face? "How generous of you, ma'am. I prolong my gratitude. For I, can only but offer a mere humble."

It was what matters. You'll commit to this man whether or not you do fundamentally enjoy it—so might as well take a glance at his face. None double taking as you took another deep breath with a servant leading to his room, finally, you think. Meeting him for the first time, when that gluttonous madam of yours hide him from you. Left to the hands of a darling female maid as she takes you to where he resides, parade the prestigious, elegant halls of your presence and careful to approach that damn door and feast your pure eyes.

Said gentle-hearted patron proceeds to leave your wake upon reaching the door facing front of you right now, a polite bow. Gesturing her leave. and instead went off and serve his... Siblings? Assuming so. As your head catches sights of a small, worn-out family portrait next to the door. Clear to not tell which one is Dazai Osamu. Right, right. Your supposed've, soon-to-be husband and hand in marriage, The Dazai Osamu... It's quite bothersome—ponder what's so special about this name particularly and not the father's? Better question yet, why must every woman gossip with a slither of his mention among useless conversations? Now you can't get Dazai Osamu's name out of your head.

And for one reason.

The noise, bleak and rather frank done as if swift in action, behind you caught you off guard and the little silhouette of that man.

"...Dazai-dono, is that correct?" Is what you've been instinctively told by your own gut to try and receive the brunet noble's attention away from the stillness of beautiful ornamental flowers. Unbothered, frozen in the skilled crafts of capture life through the hands of clay and fine arts. Frightened to your snicker, he awkwardly reaches for his fallen smoking pipe. Well, that should be the one causing the single noise but how on earth is it so full of volume...? Can that be a thing?

"And who else shall it be, the one and only, sweetheart?"

His movements—grace akin to the shows of swan lakes and beautiful doves taking leap to the unknown heavens, clouds, and skies with free, open wings; and boundless to the world beneath thee. A skip to your chest, admiring his facial features—the vague dimples wrinkle his lips and stupid, horrendously stupid, smile. Divine mahogany eyes in the corners of an almond-shape and a few cute baby hairs hang behind those pine-shaded bangs. Dazai softly gestures yourself nearer to him, step on the higher platforms of his room, no matter of what status you are, maybe Dazai spoke quietly. Or forgot to use the mouth. The brunet-haired noble examines the physique of that body of yours and fondly admires your face, even though covered and hidden under all of that makeup, he manages to crack a small smirk. "Forgive me, but... Ah, you're... As beautiful as up close."

It's cost him an expense of his whole sense to control his nerves and desire to have you on his lap, held lovingly—darling—precious. Importantly, as embracing your beloved form to his closely as humanely possible. If you're ingenuous in allowing that off the bat... How shameless of him. "Ah, you must be humbling me, my lord. I don't deserve such remarks so early." Gently, you exclaim. Twist the fan to your liking and cover your mouth of kind elegance and timid meekness. By the celestial Gods above, he's head struck although you didn't start seducing the noble with your pretty long lashes... Dear, it stole the time to apply too! Infatuating. That's less time trying to appear loving to him, sure. Well...

It's hard to be doubtful that he does look to love you in those starry eyes and blunt browns. Even harder to imply whether or not if this factor relies importance.... Keeping close to.

"Oh but I am usually quite certain as to what I say whenever, lovely Jun'ai-chan. So to speak... I don't intend to be harsh." Dazai puts to rest his smoking pipe. Cast away soon after picking it up...

"Spare me a good time and listen, I beg, my dear Jun'ai-chan. I am absolutely certain that this must be the most abnormal thing you'll hear today—or ever—throughout your entire lifetime; yet I cannot be held back. Albeit the humble nature resides me, nanakorobi yaoki." Dazai offers his hand, and so you've placed yours in return soon after Dazai reaches to you. "...Since the parade weeks ago sitting adrift by spring's exposition, you've caught these eyes for yourself." Dazai starts. "I—I can't be helped, guilty as charged! But in its climax, I have hurried my legs to the brothel where you used to live. Then... Respectfully having you became a sort of necessity in my brain."

Who's to guess that this fine, handsome young noble is indeed this selfish—greedy?

Then again, who are you to reflect so hasty? Oh, no. How exactly must you put it with him? "What pleasure." You exclaim, feign shock. "In all truthfulness, I'm much more relieved in hearing those kinds of words from you at the moment..." ...And just what are you thinking?! Saying it dilly-dally won't save you from anything. "I'm not disapproving your ways, Dazai-dono. Matter of fact, I appreciate it." He completes a soft-spoken grin that's both boyish and ugly. Ugly in a way that's good-natured, and whole. Akin to the luminous burning sun which lasts eternal and hurts your eyes... Let us become a bit realistic here:

Dazai's hand takes the kettle of refreshing green tea into his hands then proceed to serve you a cup—along a charming smile. "What a merciful woman you are. I hadn't had a message that you were going to be a forgiving type... Well, shall I cherish upon wondrous setting beneath fallen sakura petals of early bloom; and pray to beloved heavens above—with a drenched heart—must it not go soon."

"A heart for poetry?" It's the first you've taken akin to catch on about Dazai.

A couplet, kind of freeform in a sense amidst those twin lines the noble recited with grace and honour.

"Indeed, belladonna. Let me ask you... As it soothes the soul countless of times, how can one not be compromised into the elegance, intricate, and exquisite lines?" To the rhythm of his voice, endear and charming, he takes a pen between two fingers and strokes across a random bit of paper next to Dazai in idle. "What touching words. I much agree." Was all you managed to reply. His writing was neat, written the kanji for what seems to read 'peafowl.' You felt flustered over closely admiring his movements, notably Dazai's fingers. "May we perform poems until the rising sun meets dew grass and kiss the windows clear?"

You weren't expecting your mouth to speak for itself. You only thought of so as light rain drips slowly and comes to a close. It's presumably the late night by now, time flew.

The young noble smiles with such tender elation at the suggestion at hand between him and you. "It'd be ill-mannered for me to decline, no?" He paints a small portrait of himself, modest, he is more than thrilled at your words, isn't he? Although it was basic splats of ink on paper arranged in a way of ornamental flowers Dazai admired his eyes to.

...Maybe you were being a little too arrogant about him.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

@wasdy-san, @inojuuy, @imkwikly, @nonexistence1199, @emyyy007, @coilai, @writingandmusing, @hypocritic-trash-baby

[the-most-sublime-fool]

well i don't know mr dickens, this is all feeling very "old man yells at cloud"

local man considers bending forwards to be "absurd and medieval"

look i will admit that christ's mullet and vaguely smug aura are unfortunate, but what are you doing calling my girl mary ugly?! please.

[bonezone44]

linecook!Ezra ficlet (18+)

Linecook!Ezra x afab!Reader

word count: 873.

Tags: no smut. Just some good ol’ fashioned Waffle House dirty talk. Implied oral (f), implied past somno fingering, implied past p-in-v.

a/n: I've got 1000 other fics I should be writing but then this came out and I know it ends abruptly, but I'm trying to get my brain going.

+++++

Ezra, sitting on an overturned bucket in the back of the Waffle House, spits wisdom to his young cohorts on his cigarette break. They gather around him with eager eyes and hopeful smiles while he shares tales of the beforetimes (before the current manager was hired). He feels like the village elder, continuing an oral tradition that began long before the Waffle House existed. Back when it was a plot of land on the side of the highway that the local farmers would use to set up their vegetable stands every day.

When his tale is done, so is his cigarette. He snubs it out on the wall behind him and tosses the butt in an ever-present, faded, empty can of Barq’s root beer.

"You want another one?" asks one of the new waitresses, holding out a pack of Marlboro 100s that seemed to materialize from thin air with how swiftly she acquired it from her purse. Her fingernails are chewed down to the bone. She's nineteen years old and keen for Ezra's attention and approval.

She’s cute, he thinks. But he knows she’s too young and inexperienced for a man with his tastes. He wasn’t nearly as patient and accommodating as he had been in previous years. And none of those passing thoughts matter much anyhow since he has you.

He smiles, though, and continues to be polite. "I appreciate the offer, but I find myself satisfied with that particular poison for today." He pulls out a small joint of marijuana from his pocket. "On to the next one," he drawls with a smirk and the group laughs. They watch quietly as he lights it up with a flick of his BIC and takes a long, deep inhale. He holds it for as long as his aging lungs can muster and releases it above him in a thick cloud of smoke.

Then the back door flies open and you poke your head out.

You scoff at the sight. "Ezra! What are you doin back here? I need you on the grill!" You wave your hand, swatting the weed smoke away.

"I am holding court with my brethren," he turns to you and answers coolly.

"You're not gettin paid to hold court!" you yell. "I got hungry people in here!"

"Alright, alright." He licks his finger and thumb and pinches out the cherry of his joint. He looks to his audience. "Duty calls," he says with a smile and stands up. He lazily makes his way inside while you stand there and hold the door open for him.

—

You look out at the group. "What are y'all doin here? Y'all don't even work today!"

They offer their excuses, but you don't care to hear. You shoo them off and tell them to go home.

Back inside, Ezra's washing his hands at the sink. You two are hidden from view.

"I got people starin at me wonderin when their food's gonna get started!" you grouse.

"And they will be fed shortly," Ezra responds casually–as if he has all the goddamn time in the world. He dries his hands with a few paper towels and tosses them in the trash.

Your shoulders fall. "I'm exhausted, Ezra," you whine, begging for sympathy. "My feet hurt. I smell like shit. I don't wanna deal with these people anymore."

"C'mere, starlette." He wraps one arm around your waist and pulls you close. His other hand slaps your asscheek, hard. You gasp and jump and it brings your bodies closer. He looks at you adoringly. "Your shift is nearly done and when my relief arrives--" He slides one hand down the center of your ass. "--I will hurry myself to your place of residence post-haste--" His fingers press against your most sensitive area through the thin, polyester fabric of your work pants. You whimper. "--and devour your sex until I am smothered and covered in your juices.”

You close your eyes and fight back a smile. Ezra is the only man you’ve been with to make good on his promises–well, when it came to sex, at least. “I’ll probably be asleep by the time you get there.” 

“That’s never stopped me before,” he murmurs to you with hazy eyes.

You feel something hard press against you. Your whole body warms to the memory of waking up with Ezra heavy on top of you, fingers sliding in and out of your cunt. You melt against him like a slice of cheese. “Shit, Ezra,” you sigh. You wanna pull him into the manager’s office again like you did on your third shift. Leaned over the desk with your pants pulled just below your ass and Ezra’s apron tossed over his shoulder. You were tossing your ass back just as hard as he was slamming his hips. Never even got caught.

“Anybody workin here?!” a voice bellows from the dining room.

You immediately pull back from Ezra, though he is loath to let you go.

“I’m coming!” you shout.

“Yes, you will be,” mutters Ezra.

You grab a stray rag from the counter and toss it in his face with a frustrated huff. You straighten your clothes and rush to the front, doing your best to make peace with the upset guest.

+++++

[raine-degenerate]

Soap x reader: the beginning. One shot!

reader is gender neutral! This is based on to he drabble I did for this lil man.( He could kill me)

Tw?: slight angst?? Like the average customer service issues.

♡---------------------------♡

Another long damn day at the coffee shop. Hands sore from hot coffee spills and sugar suck in your finger nails. The shop is busy, but that means money so you don't complain too much. While cleaning an older man walks in and before you can even say your hellos and how are you's the old bag of bones starts barking his order at you. Standing there in shock first, before you can kindly ask him to repeat it, he yells again

"what?! Can't remember a fuckin order! Black coffee. Strong. And don't put it in a Pansy cup."

You walk up to the cash register in a daze and start putting in his request.

"what size sir?"

You speak in a sweet tone, trying to not have the ticking time bomb blow up in front of you.

"are you dumb or something?"

Before you can respond, a taller man with brown Mohawk hair places a hand on the older man's shoulder

"just get your damn coffee and get out."

You stifle a laugh before you tell the old man his order and get him out the door asap.

You walk back to the register and see the man who saved you from hell smile wide at you. Bright blue eyes shining perfectly.

"thank you by the way."

He smiles and puts his hand on the counter.

"don't mention it. Im John, whats your favorite drink here?"

After you tell him he buys two of them and pays with cash, leaving a nice tip for you. He turns away and leaves a napkin with his number on it. Smiling to yourself you start his order.

As your back is turned making the coffee you write your number on one of the cups with your name. You hand him the cups and tell him to have a great day, but before you can even go back to cleaning he speaks up

"this one's for you"

You notice he almost hands you the one with your number in it, but John quickly hands you the other one instead and smiles.

"thanks John, see ya around?"

"definitely"

He turns around and walks out the door. Leaving you in an empty coffee shop, with butterflies in your stomach.

Once the shops all clean and closed you walk home with a pep in your step. Feeling almost as if your on cloud nine. You feel your phone buzz and check the text.

Hey, it's John. You free tonight?

Knowing you have nothing planned except watching TV and sleeping you agree to go. He doesn't give any hints besides 'dress nice, but not too nice'. You scrounge around your closet and room before finding something decent, slacks and a t-shirt. John tells you to meet him at a local restaurant. A cute little bar and grill with a nice half fancy dining room.

As you're walking up you see John standing outside watching the traffic go by, Wearing the exact same gets up as you. You laugh to yourself and walk up to him. The second he notices you he looks at your outfit up and down and points to his.

"one of us is gonna have to change"

♡---------------------------♡

hello!! I just wanted to say thank you all for liking my writing and that my requests are open!! Please look at my rules for requests and I can't wait to write more 🌺

[enkisstories]

Out of the rain (pt. 2 of 3)

Jakku had become the refuge of a group of scattered supporters of the defeated galactic empire. But the one who dreamed the fiercest of their triumphant return, that one wasn't an officer, but the little boy, who hated the sun even more than he had hated the rain back home.

No matter how often his father yelled at him that "it isn't even that hot", the sun didn't agree with Armitage and Armitage didn't agree with sun being allowed to be so bright and piercing. He wasn’t even sweating, the heat wasn’t the problem at all. It was the brightness, that made his eyes and skin hurt.

Armitage missed his old hat with the wide brim. It had been his favorite color, too, even if the flowers had indeed been a bit girly.

Brendol's solution was in line with the rest of his parenting: Put a paperbag on the boy's head, so that he'd be "protected" from the sun. What had sounded kind at first to the three year old, turned out to be a lesson for him.

Now the boy's head was overheating even more. There was no winning against Brendol Hux, it seemed. It was either dripping sweat and breathing getting difficult with the bag on, or burning exposed to the sun. Torture either way.

And so Armitage sat under a tree that offered a modicum of shade, effectively blinded, while around him life went on. The seconds were ticking away, building up to minutes and hours. Armitage heard the other children at play, heard them laugh and the adults chat. Only he wasn't included, only his life got wasted away.

Only he... had the patience to wait for a cloud to cover the sun. If that moment came, the boy knew exactly what he'd do.

Alright. Almost time... Now.

Mission objective: Play in outside Secret mission objective: Secure survival gear from the enemy

Armitage: "Hello..."

Sandro: "Argh! You startled me!"

Armitage: "Do you know who I am?"

Sandro winced. The tone this other boy has asked his question in had been anything but childlike. In fact, it conjured the image of a janitor or librarian or a similarly vile creature. This boy was not Sandro's friend, and he hadn't approached to build a sandcastle together. That much Sandro understood.

Armitage: "I'm imperial scum! Wanted in the WHOLE New Republic! With a bounty on my head!"

Sandro: "Liar! You don't have anything on your head!"

Alright, that did it. Had little Armitage harbored a thimble full of guilt for what he was about to do, that vanished in the tiny desert breeze now. Nothing on his head?! How dared that little shit make fun of him like this?!

And all that stupid breeze, that he had hoped for, was doing now was making the sweaty boy feel chilly all of a sudden. Armitage stepped closer to the other boy and inhaled sharply...

Armitage: *A-choo!*

Armitage: “Give me your cap!"

Sandro: "Huh? But that's MY cap. For the sun."

Armitage: "That's why."

Sandro: "Please don't?"

Armitage: "HAT! NOW! Or I’ll sneeze at you again!"

Sandro: “Nobody can sneeze on demand...”

When Armitage found his father again, the man immediately realized that the boy had been in a fight. He was limping a bit, but didn’t seem to have bitten out more than he could chew, so it was alright.

Brendol: "There you are. Finally left your tree and decided to do some living? For real, am I raising a boy or a squirrel here? - Wait, where'd you get this cap?"

Armitage: "Spoil of war."

Brendol: "The sun isn't even out right now that’d you’d need “protection”. What's wrong with you?!"

Armitage: "Bet he peed his pants!"

Brendol: "The boy you took the cap from? Was it a local kid? They come only in two variants: Feral orphans, that would have eaten you alive, or pampered upscale brats that still wear diapers. He peed his diapers!"

Armitage: "Hahaha! Ew! Hahaha!"

Armitage: "Up there! To the gun!"

Brendol: "Alright, pilot, let's get you into your cockpit."

Armitage: "Pew! Pew!"

Now that both the rain and the sun bothered him no longer, all kinds of processes started up in the boy's brain. He saw not just the imaginary foes that he had to battle down, but besides his daydream world now also acknowledged the real one, that he could touch and manipulate.

If, for example, he tied a string to this gun, and yanked the handlebar real hard, then a second gun tied to the same rope might copy that movement and also fire at the enemy! But that tactical advantage Armitage wouldn't share with his father. It had been his very own idea, that he would protect.

The knowledge that his son, in Brendol's perception, wasn't a completely lost cause, didn't weigh lightly on the man's heart. Any random local kid of "variant 1" would have made a better heir.

His elders (not just Brendol, for most of the other new aunties and uncles were just as bad as him) giving more attention to random passerby than to a fellow imperial scum who was wanted in all systems wasn’t lost to the boy. He couldn’t understand why, and that inability to understand the world made his situation even worse.

Wren: "You crying, youngling?"

Armitage: "No?"

Wren: "But your eyes are wet."

Armitage: "It's the sun again."

Wren shrugged and let the matter rest. That other imperial - Rax, was it? Did they all end in -x? - had talked to him rather seriously. Maybe there was money to be made here, either by working for the imps or by selling them out to the bounty hunters. In either case getting on the empire’s wrong foot by calling one of their younglings a liar wasn't a smart move.

As for Armitage, to this day he couldn’t tell whether he had been lying or told the truth.

[namethatghostling]

i have a new strategy when i see shitty comments on local reporting about like trans stuff or homelessness or whatever my towns resident conservatives like to get mad about. bc like arguing in the comments with these losers is obviously not gonna bear fruit when at least half the time theyre just parroting word for word some generic hate group slogan they came across on facebook. instead ive just been scrolling down and leaving a very positive separate comment like "hey if there are any x people reading this article and getting anxious, just know that you are loved" or smth like that

which satisfies both my desire to contribute to the conversation without coming away feeling shitty, as well making a bunch of rightwingers look like total old man yells at cloud level jackasses getting mad at a purely positive message

[squadron-goals]

Officer Candidate and Relocation

15.2.15

Commanded to the Officer Candidate Course due to various circumstances.

18.3.15

Let's do a little review today. On garrison duty and behind the front, after barely 7 weeks, as strange as it sounds, I long for the trenches, but especially for a bit of danger. Our people have now gone through the famous storm, almost a third of my company has been lost. We lead a strange life here. Today, for example, the captain came to the guard post completely drunk and screamed for help. When the guard came out and didn't know what to do, he sentenced them to three days in the hole. Then it occurred to him to order a fire alarm. Everything ran to the alarm square and was yelled at with asshole and other nice titles of honour. The guard and a medical sergeant were sentenced to 3 days in the hole and had to be taken away immediately. An old hose had to be continually sprayed against a wall and a water carrier was suspected of having pissed. The officers who had just been drinking with him simply didn't come, which set off a terrible ruckus. Then the captain made a thunderous speech about the wickedness of the population and told us that he wanted to sentence them to 300 marks. In addition, there is often a big general booze-up, where each department drinks a barrel for itself. Then the whole nest is drunk. The other day, a few knights, including myself, drank from a barrel or its remains. Then the captain and some officers showed up and a colossal mess broke out, the likes of which no Hamburg pub has ever seen. In the end, everything staggered around the village arm in arm. There is also a beauty in the village, a woman whose husband is at war, Madame Octavi, and the only one of the female population worthy of the name. In front of her gate and in the house, half the crew met until the captain appeared as the local commander and sent all the subordinates packing. I think that's one of the reasons why he was so angry today about the insolence of the inhabitants, especially the women.

22.3.15

Back at the regiment in Bazancourt since yesterday. Priepke is still alive, but they had experienced terrible things. Exercised again today after marching 33 km yesterday. We saw a very interesting attack from the Flak, at least 50 clouds hovered around the plane, but it escaped.

25.3.15

Yesterday evening we were loaded and sent to Herne in Flanders. When we were on the train, we did not yet know what and where to. We left the rifles in Bazancourt. The almost Dutch cleanliness touched me in a tremendously pleasant way after having seen only French dirt for so long. That day was fabulous. Brinckmann, Kohl, Priepke and I drank in the Estaminets, the church is very beautiful. Maybe we'll make a breakthrough from here? Everything is a mystery. With Priepke I went for a nice walk. Besides, I spoke a lot of French. We sleep here in a makeshift old room on straw. I got to know a Monsieur van Hauten and had dinner with him once.

12.4.15

After we got replacements, we drove approximately to the right wing after a march of 20 km. Near Arras we suddenly turned around and drove through the day and night to Tronville between Metz and Verdun. We probably wanted to deceive the spies since we were traveling in a large group. We're probably lying here to possibly attack.

13.4.15

I spoke to a French couple. They told me that after the declaration of war, the French villages in the area were fired upon by the Metz forts. The first troops moved in on August 8th and since then there have always been soldiers in the village. The old man had already lived in this village in 1870, but he said it had been 10 times less bad.

14.4.15

We went on a practice walk to see the other monuments. In the evening, I was lying on the straw next to Honig and talking about life and love, when there was loud banging at the gate and Sergeant Krämer shouted: "Alarm, get everything ready!" First, as always, there was a lot of silence, then: "My helmet! Where is my lunch bag? My cartridges are stolen! I can't get my boots on." We came back to Chamblay train station, where we were unloaded. A Landsturm man tells me that we are heading in a direction where trains usually only run at night. At 3:30 we were unloaded and marched very mysteriously without lights to a mountain nest, where we arrived at dawn. As I learned, the village down in the valley was Pagny-sur-Moselle, where I crossed the border in my blue uniform [Jünger refers here to his return from the French Foreign Legion in 1913]. The mountain nest is called Prény.

[cre0n]

PINNACLE ATLAS

"The worth of a man that releases diamonds is…..not sure about that until…. the realms of your continuous bleeding, births more heathens…. We gone start y'all off with a seasoned, melanated old man on a regular lazy Sunday with his granddaughter in the barn…. 1st Classic, 2nd Classic, 3rd Classic, 4th Masterpiece, next Diamond……"

Old Man: There was a tale of an old Baphomet sceptre buried deep in the Grand Canyon. The locals frequently report strange humming sounds at night. Some even seen floating men in the sky. Not much is known about what it looks like, but I've heard a long time ago when I was a boy, it has its own shadow with a diamond sparkle.

Young Girl: Is the woman God?

Old Man: The 'Wombman' (laughs) is whatever she wants to be, and you should feel the same right? Now pass me that bag, would you? …… Young minds run wild. I loved being in that place some time ago.

(The two work their way throughout the barn into the evening just before dusk. A shimmer of sunlight is still present, and the skies are calm.) (As the Young Girl is eager to go outside and walking towards the barn door entrance, a sudden light appears through the cracks of the door. The Old Man continues to talk to himself as the Young Girl opens the barn doors.)

Young Girl: What's that Paw? (Pointing to the field adjacent to the barn door opening. The Old Man finally realizes she really is watching something amazing or terrifying, and drops his jaw in disbelief.) Is it ok to be God now? (Pointing at the light through the barn door opening.)

Old Man: I've seen just about everything in my life, and I'm okay with dying now……..

Young Girl: Are we going to be okay Paw? Should I go tell Momma?

Old Man: Just fine, just fine. I'll tell her…….. We have our show now….

(Scene Cuts. A Television Turns on. A news reporter is live with breaking news on current events in the area.)

Melissa C USC23 News: Yes Stan, can you hear me?

Anchor Stan: We're here Melissa, go ahead….

Melissa C USC23 News: Ok Stan I'm here outside the 'Green Tree' subdivision just East of downtown, where local residents have also reported strange sightings and sounds coming from the sky. I have with me now is one of those residents Mrs. Sandra Purdue. Sandra, can you explain exactly what's going on for the people out there that have not witnessed these events?

Sandra Purdue: (accompanied by a small child) Yeah we heard this buzzing sound coming from outside, and my husband first told us to go to the basement. That's when I ….(child interrupts)

Annie Purdue: Momma we seen black people in the sky! 'Bzzzzzzwhoooshhhuuuooo'

Sandra Purdue: I know baby. Momma's talking to the nice reporter lady ok? Go on ahead back in the house.

James Purdue: (Sandra's Husband)(James is yelling in between the screen door just shy of the door mat) Y'all need to come back inside now! C'mon Annie, it's not safe out here. Let the news people do their job.

Sandra Purdue: Let's go Annie. (Jane and Annie walk away)

Melissa C USC23 News: Still unable to prove or confirm anything on what local residents are calling a phenomenon. We only hope to have more details later as updates pour in. For now, this is Melissa C with channel USC23 News. Back to you Stan.

Pull up zero sticks, go ahead and kill me hoe You and your seeds with suffer wrath, they call us Indigos Speed plus momentum kills G-F-L been too real Parking lots Cloud deals Bruh you pulling up in a Rolls-Royce To a faggot that gave you no choice Who owns that, the renter 160k down red slender Eye don't even want that lets ENTER…………. But naw for real….. text centered……

Female Vocal: And yall know how this DNA feels Didn't need likes, ownership overkill You got bills? Me too, call Never overturned in your life give a good diamond *colour………

Anchor Stan: Thanks Melissa for that 'interesting' report to say the least. Later on, we have a hot topic that is causing a stir around social media. Is racism churning the economy? Local lawmakers claim their only hope for survival into the future, is through unbelievably blatant manipulation… And what's that buzzing sound outside? We step into one of our own State military bases to get expert aviation analysis on what 'they' think and what you should prepare for. All that and more tonight at 10:00.

Producer Jared: And that's a cut Stan, great work. Good job today y'all. We are done for now.

Regular Stan: I know these son of a bitches are lying to us about this whole alien crap. I can't wait to get out of this hick town. Cindy, is my Uber on the way?

Cindy Sahara: Yes sir. 5 minutes and they will be outside.

Regular Stan: Good, I need a drink……

(Scene cuts to the State Senator's main office. His 5,000 square foot office boast a big, beautiful glass pane window overlooking the outskirts of town. Suited with State flags and various historical ornaments, the Senators office is quite unique. To a regular citizen of this town, it would be a lot to admire and take in with just one visit.)

Senator Lockheed: Greg, did you get my reports from this morning? (shuffling paper) We have a meeting at 9.

Intern Bimmy: Yes sir, they should be in the portal by now……ummm sir? It seems like someone from the White House is trying to reach you…..

Senator Lockheed: Well?

Intern Bimmy: Yes sir, they say it's some sort of…breach? Not sure. It sounds urgent. (buzzing sounds coming from outside become louder by the second)

Senator Lockheed: (Turns his head and locks eyes on the large pane window in his office overlooking the city) Son go home now….

Intern Bimmy: I'm sorry sir? But we just go started for tod…. (Senator Lockheed interrupts)

Senator Lockheed: (Shouting) I said now!

All these niggas Eye got to fight one Guess where in the fuck they come from Bitch still trippin' off avalanches Big homie C's the only one's that advances Magic hoe Magic tricks, Magic stick, a Magic show Unimagined sorcery All these baddies still gotta see More weed than you can find time to breathe lt's been infiltration for a minute at ease All these labels front companies Publishing diamond in a tight one Whatchu' gonna' do, fight or run? Fucking bums already know the outcome Voodoom paper planes straight into a house Burning purple, riding out, cuz what the fuck is you talking bout? So much class Eye got to like prints Running in private with her home tints Nigga get your gang, talk your shit Then go run and hide, you punk bitch My situation hella sacred Whatchu' wanna' do, hide or face it? It seems to me you're industry So Eye can't really hold you accountable G (really?) All this stress, straight with the shits All this red, Eye got to buy dips Honey love, sweetie pie, sugar lips Roses and hips Diamond status your boss a faggot Remarkable, now have at it………..(Magic)

(Scene cuts to a living room where two friends are watching an emergency interrupted broadcast via the White House.)

President Enlil: My fellow Americans…… we have come to a very serious place and time in our country and on this planet. Whereas as a society, (breathes heavily) we must now face the unknown. Our military and special forces are the best in the world. We intend to use any necessary action and all resources possible to keep this country safe. I, for one, strongly advise along with our Department of Defense and Central Intelligence Agency, for everyone to stay in their homes until these so-called "threats" have subsided……… What makes us Americans, is the ability to have unwavering hope in a time….

(Audio fades to a minimum from the living room entertainment center as the two friends talk)

Ton tray: Mane fuck these crackas! (laughs)

G'Davius: Goddamn talkin bout, stay in the house…. Shittin me. Cuz, nigga already know what time it is. They got us last time with that whole chasing lies mess. If anything, NIGGAS finna be out in the street celebrating life a mufucka cuz.

Ton tray: What goes around, comes around white boy!

G'Davius: My question is, where they gone run and hide now? (Gets up from sitting down and walks towards the front door.)

Ton tray: Hell yeah. Where you going?

G'Davius: Shiiiddddddd….. Outside nigga.

Ton tray: (Laughs) Diamonds for them folks nigga!

Rubik's Sirius download personnel in this Saturn dome Holla' at broads at the mall regardless of skin tone Smoking good, riding out, still nigga what the fuck is you talking bout'? Feds even want to jack my clout No sir, entity Black Man, energy Run shit, you run around Jews the lapdog clowns Eye been betting on Avyon, since Plainfield N-J Kunta, "nigga", muthafuckin' Kente Now welcome to the center Come in, make yourselves at home, socialize, relax For thee art thou's dinner Galactic slim thickness Slim 360 ignorant Penmanship, screen scripts, quarter-billish-ness………..(Shhh)

(An old country home with a traditional porch and dirt driveway appears. Running water and the sound of dishes being racked fills the void. Mayleen Briggs is in her kitchen just finishing up cooking breakfast and immediately asserts her attention to the chores at hand.)

Mayleen Briggs: Baby finish your food before your mama comes and gets you. (Turns to the kitchen sink)

Child: Ok

(The sound of a truck pulling up into the driveway fills the kitchen. Herald Briggs opens the whining front screen door as he makes his way to the kitchen.)

Herald Briggs: May, you ain't gonna believe what's going on out there.

Mayleen Briggs: What? We been watching the news and ain't nobody said anything else.

Child: Yeah grandpa. Nothing new!

Herald Briggs: I bet those are the reruns. Gotta be. (Whispers to Mayleen) C'mon the porch with me please?

(They both make their way to the porch. As soon as the whining screen door closes.)

Mayleen Briggs: Well, what is it Herald?

Herald Briggs: Mayleen……… Ain't no white people left………

Mayleen Briggs: What?

Herald Briggs: May, I just drove about a good 100 miles all round town and the surrounding area. There is absolutely no sign of ANY white people anywhere.

Mayleen Briggs: What about Mr. and Mrs… (Herald interrupts)

Herald Briggs: Gone. Checked out the house and the neighbors. Gone.

Mayleen Briggs: A mostly white town, and all the white people just disappear huh. (Mayleen stares up at the sky) Are the stores still open? …….. I guess the scripts were right.

Herald Briggs: What scripts Mayleen?

Mayleen Briggs: It's an old prophecy that speaks on this exact situation and moment in time believe it or not. I used to keep up with this kind of stuff at the Juniors center right when I graduated from high school. It was a different time then. Different ideals, principles, and ways of life. To me, it was just fun socializing with that crowd. I didn't actually think some of the things they used to teach would turn out to be real. Well in so many words, the prophecy says that there is only one enemy left. That enemy just happens to look just like us……..

(Mayleen gently rubs the side of Heralds face with the back of her hand and proceeds back into the house. Herald takes a few steps down off of the porch and stares at the ground for several seconds as if he is taking in this new information from his wife. Herald gradually looks up as his eyes have now changed from circles to vertical slits. He opens his mouth slightly displaying a longer than usual forked tongue and overly grown canines.)

Mayleen Briggs: Herald! Come get your plate before it gets cold!

Herald Briggs: (Herald's appearance quickly turns back to his human form) Alright! Here I come…………….

[abandoned-as-mustard]

In Australia you still need some qualification to be a library technician, as far as I know.

I have a bit of a gripe with my local library in that the front desk is placed in such a way that anyone talking there can be heard everywhere in it. Minding your own business is very hard to do without earphones anymore. I feel a bit 'old man yelling at cloud' but I probably would have rather worked in a library 20 years ago.

[terrifictoonman]

Prompt: As a Barbarian, you hate that just because you have a different lifestyle, your party looks down on you and assumes you are incapable of basic intelligent thought. Today you had enough.

By: writing-prompt-s [Tumblr]

Paw-larity Insues

True North, an Adventuring Party based in Utoplion, was hired to assist a former town-turned-aspiring kingdom, Larthadrose, due to them having helped the new kingdom several times in the past. Their mission was to help protect the kingdom’s only delegate as they made their way to Utoplion for an assembly to decide the fate of their home. Upon arrival, the delegate requested the party’s werewolf barbarian, Huskveiler “Husk” Lunes, as their personal guard during her stay. While the rest of the party had their concerns, they had no real reason to deny their request.

Sir Conner, a old paladin, was at a local bar, enjoying a book and a small drink when Fynn, his party’s gnome alchemist, poked her head from behind the bar. When Conner noticed, he nearly drew his axe.

“Fynn! What are you doing here?” asked Conner.

“Bored,” replied Fynn. “Was gonna spice up some of these drinks, sit back, and watch the fireworks.” Conner grabbed Fynn’s head like a ball and pulled her over the counter.

“Where’s your sister?” asked Conner.

“Where else? Still, back at the shop glued to that magic tome, we found,” said Fynn as she climbed onto the seat next to Conner. “I know I’m the problem child and all, but that girl has a problem.” Fynn pulls a glowing vial from her pouch, pops the cork off, and drinks the whole thing in less than a second. Fynn then burps a small storm cloud, complete with thunder and lightning, and smiles as it floats away.

“Every day, you find new ways to shock and concern me,” said Conner.

“Mystery keeps the relationship fresh,” said Fynn. “Speaking of mystery. I didn’t take “Sir High and Mighty” to be a barfly. So, what’s your vice, old man?” Fynn reached for Conner’s glass, but the paladin managed to keep her away from it.

“My faith doesn’t forbid vices,” said Conner, “as long as I acknowledge and control them, I may drink as much as I wish.” Fynn burps again after finishing off Conner’s drink.

“Man! You call this a drink?” yelled Fynn. “I’ve had unicorn piss stronger than this!” Fynn slaps the table, getting the demonic bartender's attention. “Sir, two glasses of whatever can make a grown man cry on the rocks.” Fynn drops some gold coins on the counter. “And a shot of milk for my friend.” 

With a low, gruff growl, the bartender begins to take bottles off the shelf and mix them. He poured a dark red drink into two glasses, sliding them over to Conner and Fynn. Along with a shot glass filled with white milk. 

“So?” asked Fynn, “You think our little diplomat’s enjoying Husk’s services?”

“Not this again!” groaned Conner.

“Oh, come on, don’t tell me you don’t see it,” said Fynn. “She’s dainty and smart, he’s tough and dumb, and they’ve almost died together several times. A perfect match if there ever was one.”

“Lady Lorelei is on a critical diplomatic mission for her kingdom,” said Connor, “I doubt that holds much importance for her at the moment.” Fynn snickers at Conner’s use of words or lack thereof.

“Alright then, answer me this,” said Fynn as they finished off Conner’s drink, “why else would she ask Husk to be her personal guard?” Conner looked at Fynn, confused.

“For protection,” answered Conner, “there are plenty of people who could benefit from kidnapping the sole diplomat of a new kingdom in desperate need of aid.”

“But then why just Husk?” asked Fynn. “I mean, this is your home. You know this place like the back of your hand. Plus, you might have a more political sway, given your heritage. Or Dev, the former assassin for one of the largest bands of criminals in the nation. He can spot danger coming from miles away and can take care of it without making a sound.”

“Maybe it's for intimidation?” said Conner.

“Sure, that could work,” said Fynn, “if he didn’t work for the most upstanding adventure guild in the kingdom. Sure, the red fur, sharp teeth, and piercing yellow eyes would scar the shit out of most soldiers on the battlefield, but not in a room with the people who are essentially his bosses. I’d also like to reiterate that Dev is a well-known assassin.”

Conner struggles to think of a counter-argument while Fynn drinks his glass of milk, slamming it on the counter. “Think about it: she’s in a room with pompous old men who hold the future of her home in their hands. She’s spending the whole day bargaining without a leg to stand on, probably having to accept a bunch of bullshit terms that only really help Utoplion. That’s gotta be unbearably frustrating. So what better way to deal with that frustration than to let a war-torn, seven-foot-tall, built like an orc, and just as dumb wolfman destroy her?”

“Good lord would just- just stop!” begged Conner. In the brief silence, the two notice the bartender not so sneakily eavesdropping on their conversation. The bartender coughs as he quickly picks up a glass and cleans it. Fynn bursts out laughing.

“So,” said Fynn, “how does it feel to run an escort service?”

“That’s it!” said Conner as he stood from his chair. “I’m going to find Husk.”

“Gonna give her a two-for-one deal?” mocked Fynn.

“No! To prove your gutter drowned mind wrong!” said Conner as he sped toward the door. However, he was blocked by a wall of thick, damp red and white fur. Conner had walked into a werewolf wearing pants, what remained of a fancy shirt, and a vest.

“I thought I heard you guys in here,” said Husk before pulling Conner away from him. “Since when did you drink?” Conner spit out as much fur from his mouth as he could, with little success.

“Bartender,” said Fynn. “gonna need another glass of milk…” Lorelei, a young woman in fancy clothes, stepped from behind Husk and into the bar. “And a pillow if you would be so kind.”

“That is very considerate of you,” said Lorelei, taking a seat next to Fynn. “No offense to the royal family, but they should heavily invest in adding cushioned seating to their diplomacy hall.” Husk and Conner take seats at the bar, the former pushing his stool to its limits.

“So, why were you guys looking for me?” asked Husk.

“Well-” Fynn started.

“That’s not important right now!” Conner interrupted. “Lorelei, how are the negotiations going?”

“Ugh!” groaned Lorelei. Husk pats their back with his massive hand.

“Yeah, it’s been a tough few days,” said Husk.

“Tough? Tough does not begin to describe what I’ve been through,” said Lorelei. “Again, no offense to your kingdom, Sir Conner.” Conner uses his glass of milk like mouthwash, spitting it back into the glass with a few extra patches of fur.

“No offense taken, friend,” said Conner. “My grandfather was a delegate for the kingdom since he was young, and he always talked about how his best day was the day he retired.”

“Never have I missed my council more than this past week,” said Lorelei, “Thankfully, I’ have had Husk to keep me sane.” A devious grin stretched across Fynn’s face.

“How so?” asked Fynn.

“Above all else, he has been excellent company,” said Lorelei. “I would have gone mad my first night without him.”

“Go on,” said Fynn, prompting Conner to hit her in the arm.

“Uh, well, due to the more complex nature of your legal system,” said Lorelei, “I spent many late nights researching as much as possible. I often became frustrated, so I sought out Husk, who was more than happy to aid me. Due to the nature of his career, I suspected he would be able to keep up with me. However, his stamina easily dwarfed my own.”

“Hey, don’t you go underselling,” said Husk, “you pushed yourself hard every second of every minute of every hour!” With every word, Conner turned a brighter shade of red, and Fynn’s grin grew longer. “Let me tell you, this woman is non-stop! I mean, every chance she had, we were back at it. In the library, in her chamber, in the courtyard. Heck, if we thought the Wigheads were about to go on a ramble, we’d sneak out for a few.”

“Are you serious!” said Conner and Fynn in unison.

“And we were never caught,” said Lorelei as she high fived Husk.

“Sounds like you two had quite the adventure,” said Fynn, struggling to keep from laughing. Meanwhile, Conner buried his face in his hands from embarrassment, whispering a prayer.

“We really did,” said Husk, “I’ll be honest, I wasn’t excited at first, but after some prodding, I was surprised to find out how much I enjoyed it.”

“...what?” asked Fynn.

“It is not out of the ordinary,” said Lorelei. “For men like Husk, it can be difficult to take it all in. Most would have surrendered after the first few seconds, but Husk saw a challenge.”

“And I never back down from a challenge!” said Husk. “You guys should give it a try. Who knows, maybe I can show you guys something for a change.” Fynn quickly joined Conner in the “red face” club alongside the bartender as he handed them drinks.

“Are you both feeling well?” asked Lorelei. “You look flush?”

“I-I-I think we had a bit too much to drink,” stuttered Fynn. “Probably should be getting back anyway. It’s getting late.”

“Didn’t Conner only have milk?” asked Husk.

“Also, the sun has only just now set,” Lorelei continued.

“You know what the boss says,” said Fynn, “Early to rest, early to rise!” Fynn leaped down from their chair and dragged a still-praying Conner out the door with them. “See you tomorrow!” A few seconds after the two left, Husk and Lorelei looked at each other and exploded into a laughing fit.

“Did you see the looks on their faces?” asked Husk.

“I believed that they would have exploded if they had stayed,” said Lorelei. “What fools! No offense!”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Husk, “serves ‘em right for assuming, even more for forgetting that my hearing is better than theirs.”

“So when do you plan on telling them the truth?” asked Lorelei.

“...eventually,” said Husk as he sipped his drink.

“Do you know what “eventually” means in my home?” asked Lorelei. “Between “now” and “never,” I would prefer that you do the former.”

“I dunno,” said Husk, “I mean, I didn’t really do anything. I just noticed a few things, that’s all.”

“Yes,” said Lorelei, “ and those “few things” led to financial aid for construction and development, a sizable defensive force, and my people being put on the Golden Route. In case you forgot, that means direct trade with some of the most affluent kingdoms in the nation! You helped my home take that first step to becoming a true kingdom.”

“But what if it was just luck?” asked Husk, “what if I just end up embarrassing myself and my team by believing I’m something that I’m not.”

“You know what I believe?” asked Lorelei. “I believe that you are not the dumb barbarian everyone thinks you are. I believe that you have a natural affinity for researching not only the law but also whatever draws your interest. I believe you are not the most embarrassing member of your team, and even if you don’t believe in any of that now…” Lorelei places their hand on top of Husk’s as the the two look at each other. “I will believe in you until you can believe in yourself.”

The two smiles at each other until Lorelei notices something behind Husk and motions him to look. He turns around to see the bartender cleaning another cup, with bloodshot eyes and tear streaks down his face. He quickly wipes his face with the cleaning rag before racing into a backroom.

“You think that means the drinks are free?” asked Husk.

“Hope so,” said Lorelei before chugging her drink, “Because I have seven days of blah I need to wash down.”

---{A Few Hours Later}---

Lorelei and Husk walk out of the bar, stumbling into each other every couple of steps. As they walk back to the royal housing, Husk notices Lorelei looking at his back.

“Is there something on me?” asked Husk. “Blink twice if it has a weapon.”

“No, It is just…what are those straps for, on the back of your vest?” asked Lorelei. “It has been nagging at me for the longest time.” Husk grins as he turns his back to Lorelei.

“Grab on,” said Husk. Lorelei grips the straps. Husk jerks forward, pulling Lorelei onto his back as his human features morph until he becomes a giant wolf. Husk looks back at Lorelei with a smug look.

“Cooooooool!” said Lorelei. “How fast can you go?!” With a proud bark, Husk sprints forward. Reaching top speed in seconds, Lorelei grips the straps with everything they have. Husk jumped onto the roof of a small building, working his way up until he was leaping from rooftop to rooftop with Lorelei laughing on his back. It was at that point that Lorelei felt a raindrop hit her head. They pulled themself as close as they could to Husk’s ear. “It is going to rain!”

Husk’s eyes widen as he makes a hard turn towards royal housing. He tries to leap across a massive moat that separates the royal housing from the town but misjudges the jump slightly, sending him and Lorelei into the center of the river.

---{One Drenched Sprint Later}---

A soaking-wet Husk carrying a slightly less wet Lorelei charged through their chamber door. Lorelei jumps out of Husk's arms and quickly lights the fireplace along with every candle in their room. Husk runs into Lorelei’s bathroom and shakes himself dry before joining them at the fireplace. The two sit and let the fires warm them up a bit before Lorelei walks into their bathroom.

“What the Hell!” yelled Lorelei.

----------

Lorelei walks out of the bathroom wearing a robe while Husk, now semi-humanoid, continues to sit by the fire. Lorelei stands over Husk with their hand out. Husk takes their hand, thinking that they would help pull him up, but Lorelei slips from his grasp, dropping Husk on his butt.

“Coin bag. Now,” ordered Lorelei. Husk hands over a small damp cloth bag. Lorelei pulled out a few silver and a couple of gold in spite of Husk’s pouting face and placed the coins on a nearby table. “Thank you for offering to pay the poor servant they send to clean up your nightmare.”

“My pleasure,” groaned Husk. Lorelei grabbed the blanket off of her bed and wrapped it around Husk before sitting down next to him. “For the record, this blanket’s on you.”

“Fair enough,” said Lorelei. The two sit in silence for a while, letting the fireplace's heat wrap around them like a second blanket. Lorelei leans closer into Husk. “I meant what I said you know. With your talent, you could become smarter than most scholars could ever dream of.”

“I know, and you’re right,” said Husk. “I just wish I never had to prove myself. If anyone else did what I did but messed up, society would have just assumed that they just didn’t learn enough, but my kind was bred, born, and raised as tools for war. To do anything else and fail just pushes the narrative forward that at the end of the day, all I am and all I’ll ever be is a mindless beast that can pretend to be human.”

“Husk,” said Lorelei, “you are just one person. Your actions should not carry such weight. All that should matter is that you are happy with your life, and no one else can control that but you.”

Lorelei feels Husk pull away from her. She turns to see the blanket shrink around him down to a quarter of his original size.

Husk now had wet almond skin with large patches of crimson-red fur on the sides of his face, chest, and arms. His ears had a tall point, like an elf, and his clothes, while they still fit, were looser. Lorelei closes the distance, leaning against Husk again.

“Thank you,” said Husk.

“It is the least I can do,” said Lorelei.

“So does that mean…?” asked Husk

“No, you can not have your coin back,” answered Lorelei.

“Ok, just checking,” said Husk.

[dj-bettencourt]

Smart Shopping in Salem, NH: Finding Deals and Discounts for Everyday Needs

Introduction

Salem, New Hampshire, is a great place to live and visit. The city has everything from historic sites to natural wonders. If you're looking for ways to save on everyday items in Salem, NH, read on!

Smart Shopping in Salem, NH: Finding Deals and Discounts for Everyday Needs

Shopping smart can save you money. Here are some tips on how to shop smart in Salem, NH:

Look for deals and discounts. When you're shopping for everyday items like groceries, clothes and electronics, look for coupons and sales that will help you get more bang for your buck. If there's a store nearby where you can buy an item at a discount price (as opposed to ordering online), take advantage of it!

Check out local businesses first before buying something new from an online retailer--especially if the product is considered "essential" (like diapers) or has limited shelf life once opened (like milk). This way when someone asks about what type of coffee maker I use at home today instead of yesterday's conversation starter about why their office doesn't have any decent snacks available during lunchtime meetings yet again this week...I won't have any problem answering without sounding like an old man yelling at clouds."

Store Hours - When to Shop?

When you're shopping for groceries, it's best to go during the week. Grocery stores tend to have more deals on certain items during their weekly sales and promotions. This means that if you want to get the most bang for your buck, then Monday through Friday is the time for you!

For specialty stores like clothing boutiques or hardware stores (or any other type of business), however, weekend hours are best because those businesses tend not to offer as many promotions during those days--and they may even close early!

How Can I Save Money at the Grocery Store?

Look for coupons. Coupons can be found in the Sunday paper, on websites and apps like Groupon, or even on social media.

Look for sales. Stores often run sales on certain items during certain times of year--for example, spring cleaning products in April or summer clothing in July--so check the ads before you shop to find out what's on sale at your local grocery store!

Get bulk discounts by purchasing in bulk or signing up for a membership card that offers these kinds of perks (e.g., Costco).

Join store loyalty programs like Amazon Prime Pantry or Instacart Express so that you can take advantage of special deals just by shopping online!

How Can I Find Discounts on Electronics in Salem, NH?

There are a number of ways to find discounts on electronics in Salem, NH.

Check the local paper. If you're looking for a specific brand or type of electronics, check out the Sunday circulars in your area and see if there are any sales going on that week. You may even find some items on sale as early as Tuesday!

Look out for end-of-month sales at big box stores like Best Buy and Walmart. These retailers often run weekly specials during this time period, so keep an eye out for deals on televisions, computers and other tech gadgets that fit within your budget range!

Think holiday shopping seasonally: Christmas is right around the corner (yay!), which means stores will be stocking up their inventory with new products just in time for shoppers like yourself who need gifts ideas - especially those who don't want anything too expensive but still want something thoughtful enough not only impress friends/family members but also show appreciation towards those who helped make such great memories possible over these past few months (or years).

There are many ways to save money when shopping in Salem.

Shop at the right time.

Shop at the right store.

Shop for the right things.

Conclusion

Shopping in Salem is a great way to save money and get the best deals on everyday items. You can find discounts on electronics, groceries and more by shopping smart and using coupons. The key is knowing where to look for these offers so that you don't miss out on any savings opportunities!

[61below]

Oh Sundays, when grandpa texts the family group chat 8 times in a row asking if all of us have read an op ed about the school district two towns over from us, where none of us have kids enrolled or friends who work there, and where none of us have subscriptions to the paper… ah, good my eldest aunt just asked for a summary of the article