#oh yeah and earings i always give my ocs earings idk why i do it just any time their hair for whatever reason isnt in their face

[the-dragon-girl-27]

I saw some post going around like “draw Miku as if she was a character in your OC world” and for shits and giggles I gave it a shot

I draw miku so much and my oc world doesnt have any particulary special fashion (its useally just whatever i feel like drawing and is midly RPG-fantasy ish I guess) so its kinda literally just Miku with horns

[bibiwrld]

Nerdy loser Anakin Skywalker!— Turned Bad Boy!

Pairing: Nerdy loser Anakin! x Black fem oc!

Author’s note: I honestly thought this was a cute and funny idea. Kinda short, but I’m thinking of a part 2, idk.

Bad boy! Bad boy!

Whatcha gonna do?

Can’t run away from ‘em

💋!

They weren’t girlfriend and boyfriend, that’s what they agreed on until Sydnee was ready and he was fine with that. Anakin thought what they had was special and he wouldn’t want to ruin it, but he couldn’t help but feel a little jealous when he’d see Sydnee talking to other guys around campus. They didn’t look like Anakin, they looked cooler— wearing fashionable and darker clothes, messy dark hair, piercings, always had a cigarette between their lips and they spoke with such vulgars words.

Was that allowed? Talking to other people?

Even if he wanted to, Anakin couldn’t, no other girl caught his eyes quite like Sydnee did. She was the only one for him.

He paced his living room with his phone to his ear, listening to it ring. “Pick up, pick up—”

“Anakin, it’s late, this better be some type of emergency.” Obi-Wan, his older brother, groaned.

“I-it is!” Anakin interjected, standing in place. “I met a girl.” His voice now a little more hushed.

Obi-Wan almost choked. “A girl?!”

“Don’t sound so shocked.” He said with rolled eyes. “I just need..a–a little advice.”

“I’m your older brother, that’s what I’m here for.”

“Do you think girls like edgy bad boys?” He plopped down on his couch.

“Some girls do, yeah. Girls think they’re cooler, more attractive, assertive. They like laid back guys, very nonchalant, guys who just don’t give a shit, y’know?”

Anakin was none of those things.

“I should just fake it, huh?” He adjusted his glasses.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Little did Obi-Wan know what he told his younger brother, was the worst advice ever.

Right after that phone call, Anakin went on a shopping spree. Buying a new wardrobe that consisted of dark tees with cool graphics, dark long sleeved shirts and baggy jeans. He also stopped at Target and bought black and blue hair dye, fake piercings and contact lenses.

He stood in front of his mirror, listening to the audiobook of The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath, with a patch of blue in his hair.

He couldn’t believe he was going through with this. He looked at himself in the mirror, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling.

His arms grew tired as he dabbed a section of his hair with a hair dye brush coated in black hair dye. He prayed this came out good, finally putting a clear plastic cap on his head.

💋

“I was thinking of hitting up this club tomorrow night, I heard they got male strippers.” Lilian slowly scrolled on her phone giggling.

“Wait for real?” Chloe leaned all the way into Lilian trying to look at her phone. “Oh my God, they’re hot.”

Sydnee didn’t really care to look, she had other things to worry about, like where Anakin was. He didn’t send a good morning text like he usually does every morning, as he’s always up before her, she hasn’t seen him around campus and it usually doesn’t take long for her to see him walking around.

“What’s your problem, Sydnee?” June asked with obvious attitude, chewing her gum obnoxiously as her nails clicked against her phone.

Sydnee doesn’t know why she still hung around this girl, she was so rude and annoying. “I’m just wondering where Anakin is, that’s all.”

“Now that you mention it, I didn’t see him in Physics today.” Chloe rested her chin into her palm, suddenly thinking about Anakin.

“Seriously girl?” June scoffed. “You’re still hung up on that guy? It was one thing to fuck him, but to actually give a shit about him is crazy.”

Sydnee’s fist balled up, slowly turning her head towards the obnoxious snob. Before Sydnee or Chloe could say something in defense of Anakin, Lilian cut them off.

“Is that..is that Anakin?” Her tone was a mix of surprised and a bit of disbelief.

Sydnee quickly turned around, searching the busy cafeteria for the boy with glasses, but she didn’t see him at all. She squinted, then noticed a tall guy in an army green tee, baggy ash jeans, grey converse and black, messy hair, sluggishly walking over to them.

She could only stare in awe, her eyes just following him as he got closer. She noticed he had on black eye shadow, messily smeared on his lids.

He dropped his bag on the floor, sitting beside Sydnee. “Hey doll face.” He removed the cigarette from his lips, giving her a quick peck on the cheek.

“Doll face?” Sydnee silently muttered to herself. He’s never talked like that, ever.

“Sup girls?” He nodded to the 3 girls.

“Uh..hey?” Lilian rose a brow.

“What’s with the look?” Chloe asked.

He focused hard on every word, trying not to stutter.

“Can’t a guy express himself?” He snapped, slouching and spreading his legs.

“I think he looks better this way.” June gave small nods.

Of course she did.

Sydnee rolled her eyes at June, then brought her attention back to Anakin. She reached her hand out to fix his hair . “You have bed head, Ani—”

He corrected her, moving his head so she couldn’t touch it. “Anakin and that’s just how my hair is.”

“Well Anakin, you missed Physics class.” She narrowed her eyes at him, taken back by his actions. “And you didn’t text me, I was worried.” Her voice softened, a pout on her lips.

He took a small drag from his cigarette. “Woke up late.” It took everything in him not to choke.

“You never wake up late.” Her brows furrowed.

“Are you wearing eye makeup?” Chloe leaned over, examining him.

His voice was a bit shaky, trying to maintain that dominant tone. “No…?”

“Okay, liar.” Lilian chuckled.

Sydnee looked him over and over again, noticing every detail about him. She didn’t hate the look, but she was a bit confused.

“What’s with the cigarette? You don’t even smoke cigarettes.” Sydnee felt like she was losing her mind. “And your hair…did you dye this yourself? And when did you get all these piercings?”

Anakin shrugged. “I’ve found myself, y’know?”

Sydnee knew something was up, but she didn’t know what. “Where are your glasses?”

“Don’t need em.” Smoke escaped his pink lips.

“Can you stop with the smoking? We’re indoors.” She screwed up her face.

“Whatever.” He took the cigarette from his lips, smushing it at the heel of shoe, then flicked it off somewhere.

June then jumped in. “Why don’t you stop complaining and appreciate that your boy toy looks hot?”

That was it.

Sydnee grabbed her bag and abruptly stood up. “Go fuck each other.” Looking June and Anakin in the eyes before storming off.

Anakin internally panicked, this wasn’t going how he planned it was.

“What’s her deal?” June screwed up her face.

“You obviously don’t know what the deal is because there is no fucking deal.” He spat before grabbing his bag to chase after Sydnee.

Sydnee hustled down the hall, stepping harshly with arched brows.

“Sydnee!” His voice called out. “Sydnee!”

She rolled her eyes and stopped walking, leaning against the wall with crossed arms. “What is it, Anakin?”

“Y-you’re mad.” He frowned, standing in front of her.

“Well duh.”

“I-I’m sorry.” He breathed out. “I thought you’d like m-me..like this.”

“I don’t hate how you look, but the way you’re acting, why would I like that?” She looked away.

“B-Because I saw you talking t-to guys…that l-looked like this.” He breathed out. “I-I thought i-if I–uh— if I looked and acted like them, maybe you’d l-like me more.” He hung his head low.

Her arms gradually unfolded at his confession. “Anakin, what?”

“I-I know, it’s sooo em-embarrassing.” He groaned. “I-I hate cigarettes!” He then tugged off one of the fake earrings. “Th-these aren’t even real!”

Sydnee couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re too cute, Anakin.” She cupped his face, bringing it down to hers.

“Call me Ani, plea-please, I like it when you call m-me that.” He nuzzled his face into her hands.

She couldn’t help but smile. “Don’t ever change yourself, I like you just as you are.” She brought her lips to his, tasting the cigarette he smoked, but she didn’t care.

His hands found her waist, bringing her in closer.

The smacking of their lips were the only things heard in the empty halls. She softly tugged on his bottom lip, making him moan out.

“So cute.” She muttered before pulling away. “You do look really hot though.”

“Really?” He beamed.

“Yeah.” She bit her lip. “How about we go back to your place and fuck with your little bad boy cosplay on, hm?”

He covered his mouth in excitement. “Oh my God, y-you’re so insanely a-attractive.”

She giggled, holding his hand. “Come on, bad boy Anakin.”

💋

[binickandros]

Twenty Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @staceymcgillicuddy. Thanks!!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

42! I have more on ff.net.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

1,612,657. She a chatty bjtxh.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

rn just Stranger Things, but in the past I've written for Criminal Minds (that's sort of...ongoing, I guess), L&O:SVU, The X-Files, Sailor Moon, Doctor Who, Supernatural, Sons of Anarchy, The Stand, and Homicide: Life on the Street. Also there's my roosthoard crackfic.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Sharp as Nails, Soft as Honey (hellcheer)

You've Earned It (Barba/Carisi from SVU)

Longing (Juice/Chibs from SoA)

Come With Me Tonight (Juice/OC, SoA)

The Space Between (hellcheer)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to! Sometimes I forget and then I feel awkward replying like ages later. I never replied to a bunch on Space Between and feel bad about it. :/ So now I try to respond right away bc I want ppl to know how much I appreciate their support.

6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

None of my fics end angstily. They might have angsty events, but everything always resolves happily. I write fic to fix shit, not to make it worse!!

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Ummmmm...lol! Probably the sort-of crackish sequel to Come WIth Me Tonight, Under My Skin. Juice, Chibs, and my OC move to a Greek island and raise goats and bees and have sex all the time. What could be better??

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not lately, but Come With Me did get some bullshit, mostly bc the SoA fandom didn't like the idea of a more submissive Juice Ortiz (dumb, frankly), and they just in general like to hate on OCs.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yup. Didn't start until my spn fic, Half of Something Else, but since then yeah. Most of them have had smut. Sometimes it's more vanilla, but I usually do prefer to play with power dynamics. Some have outright D/s stuff goin on, but I usually don't get that "formal" with it.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I've got the crack-ish roosthoard fic, which I plan on turning into a series, and once I tried to write an X-Files/CriMi but couldn't really get anywhere with it. So usually no, I don't.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not as far as I know. I'm not popular enough, which is fine w me.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I was about to say no, but then I remembered back in the day someone translated my Sailor Moon fics. So yes!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Sort of? Like, not officially, but nearly everything I write these days is at least partially co-written with @tonybourdain

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

Oh gosh. Ummmm...okay, either Jon/Aryn from Farscape or Jaime/Claire from Outlander.

15. What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Oh geez. I want to finish my Stand fic SO badly, but idk if it's gonna happen. Also my SoA fic Get You In. I know what I want to happen, but writing it is the hard part. :/ But the one I know I'll probably never finish is Collide, my SVU fic. Like the other two could get finished some day, but that one? Prob not.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue, esp banter. I think I'm pretty funny. Also giving my sentences and paragraph a certain rhythm. I have a good ear.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I get stuck in ruts. Like repeating myself a lot.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I've done bits and pieces of other languages in my fic, but if I needed anything more complex or longer, I'd get someone who spoke whatever language to help me.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Homicide: Life on the Street, I think. Then very shortly after that, The X-Files. Or maybe vice versa I don't remember.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

I really really love my spn fic Half of Something Else. There's this whole bit that takes place near a swamp that I just adore. But also my SoA magnum opus, Come With Me Tonight. I poured my blood, sweat, and tears into that baby.

Right now I'm really enjoying my current hellcheer WiP, With Teeth. I think it's gonna be good.

I'm gonna tag @anniecrestaodairs, @prosopopeya, and @lightsaroundyourvanity

[emoticonheart]

Do you have any burping headcanons for your original characters? Like, what their belches sound or smell like, and also how frequently each person burps, and what their own reactions to their belches are?

OH ABSOLUTELY I DO

you, my friend, have opened a very large can of worms. but, before i get started, i'll just say that for me personally, i'm not big on the way belches smell. that's just not something i'm really into personally, but i can totally understand why other people like it!! but bc of that, i'm not gonna really focus on that, but feel more than free to use your imagination as i explain everything else!!

and so with that being said, out of respect for everyone's tls, if you'd like to know the burping habits of all my ocs, then feel free to keep reading

ashley (flexsteel): she was born with this odd medical condition that just makes her gassier than usual. when she was a kid, her parents took her to doctor after doctor to try to get the issue fixed, but there was nothing they could do. and so, she just had to live with these huge belches. she is always burpy after a meal, but she also is very skilled at burping on command. either way, like i said, these belches are huge. not hyper belch huge, but for a normal person? yeah she's pretty much untouchable when it comes to volume, length, and power. in fact, idk how i would fit this into the actual story so i'll just tell y'all here: since all her burps on stream are recorded, ppl have gone back and seen that with a lot of them, she has gotten super close to breaking some world records. super close, and she wasn't even trying. imagine what she could do if she was. she was super embarrassed about this skill of hers growing up, mostly because her parents and family made her feel like a freak for it, but she starts breaking out of her shell a little after meeting lily. but what really helps her accept herself is becoming flexsteel. it's through streaming and her followers that truly helps her learn to love herself. she still gets embarrassed from time to time, especially when she accidentally lets one go somewhere inappropriate, but overall she's a lot more comfortable with her condition.

sierra (burp soulmates): she is a very skilled burper when it's on command. that's because her bio dad taught her how to burp on command when she was a child, and she has spent years mastering her technique. she can control the length, volume, depth, and intensity of her belches with pinpoint accuracy. in fact, a lot of people at school will play this game with her where they give her a random aspect of a burp (22 seconds, extra bass, airy and quiet, etc.), and she'll do just perfectly. it never ceases to amaze people. however, she's nowhere near as skilled when it comes to belching naturally. in fact, her natural burps are just plain average, which is a stark contrast to her ability to burp on command. she wishes she were better at the natural stuff, but she's super proud of her abilities. she'll flex it any opportunity she can get.

addison (wyfatw): she's a royal princess, so she shouldn't enjoy belching as much as she does, but she can't help the way it feels when she lets one go. like ashley, she's naturally burpier than most, but it's nowhere near on the same scale as ashley. the thing about addison is that her burps aren't very long. the longest burps she can produce are five seconds long, but that's only if she really concentrates. but, what she lacks in length, she makes up for tenfold in volume. even if it only lasts a second, her burps are loud enough to make you flinch and clamp your hands over your ears, as if ten whips going off at the same time. before running away, one of her favorite things to do while eating dinner was wait until a servant or something was walking through the dining hall with a large platter of food or drinks and then release a quick, shotgun-like burp that echoed throughout the entire hall and shocked the servant so much that it sent their tray crashing to the ground. she got a kick out of it, and then got an even bigger kick out of her parent's disappointment. except the servants eventually learned to expect her little trick and didn't react the same because of it, and that was when it became no fun.

thalia (first impressions): with her mom being full ogre and her dad being half giant, her digestive system was bound to be messed up. like i mentioned in the story itself, her giant lineage means she's always hungry, and her ogre lineage means she's always gassy. and thalia is living proof that that combination is a recipe for disaster. she is constantly releasing earth quaking hyper belches, and when i say constantly, i mean constantly. they interrupt her when she talks because she literally can't go five seconds without one escaping her. at first, when she was a child, she was pretty proud of it, especially when she pushed the daycare bully off of the seesaw by releasing a particularly powerful belch and made herself the queen of the playground for a day. but the glamor quickly faded, especially when she couldn't leave the house for months, attending class online and even finding a job that she could do from home. these days, she feels pure indifference about her unique talents. she lets one go and just carries on as if nothing happened. she can hardly feel it coming up anymore, anyway, so why bother making a big deal of it?

robin (stolen crown): she was cursed with magical belches, so of course her burps are just gnarly. unlike thalia, though, she doesn't burp nearly as much, so she hasn't found herself getting sick of it yet. in fact, she actually loves burping. the feeling of all that air coming out of you as the ground shakes underneath you, and knowing that shaking is because of you? yeah, robin can think of almost nothing better. like thalia, though, her condition meant she was forced to hide away at home for a lot of her life, but for very different reasons. she could've let this get to her, blame her burpiness for the fact that she couldn't go out and make friends, but she actually didn't mind. as long as she could let loose freely, she didn't mind staying away from people. besides, she had her monthly visits to the tavern to look forward to. when she went on her quest with arrach and runt, she was a little more careful about it, but overall she's always been shameless.

arrach (stolen crown): he's a troll with three stomachs, so he's a naturally gassy guy. while his burps are nowhere near as powerful, they're definitely not something to scoff at either. he can still make branches bristle and animals run for their lives. he's been conditioned to feel ashamed about his abilities, so he acts that way at first. but you may quickly discover that he has a competitive side buried deep within him. and if you know him well enough, you'll know how to pull that side out of him. when that competitive side is out, he'll get into a burping contest with anyone and everyone, and only feel embarrassed about it later.

overall, when it comes to my normal burpers, sierra wins in technique, addison wins in volume, but ashely wins overall best burper. truly no one can compete with her natural talent. she can take on anyone and everyone and come out on top.

when it comes to my hyper belchers, thalia comes out on top. the intensity of both her and robin's belches are pretty similar, but what sets thalia apart is just how often she burps. the difference between robin and thalia's condition is that robin always has gas sitting inside her, waiting to be released, whereas thalia is always producing gas, so there's no room in her to keep it, which is why she is constantly belching.

i hope this answers your question well enough!! if you have any other questions or if there's anything i missed, feel free to send an ask!!

[grayintogreen]

Book thoughts! Glad I didn’t go in without knowing of The OC

Brain!molly going on and on about Yasha was great and wonderful, but his whole thing when Lucien was mind rending Beau was just great.

I wish the dragon fight would have been expanded a bit more with Lucien going “eh, no big” for leaving Beau and Molly going “uh, no” (also, urgh on Lucien saying Beau reminded him of HER)

But why oh why do we need a random OC for the book. Just make it all Cree.

And no attempts at controlling Beau and Caleb was odd. Or even really anything with Lucien looking in on them, even though he callously changed his “friends” minds.

Also! I wish Molly noticed and commented on Yasha and Beau seeming “close”

Is it bad I want a rewrite of the latter half of the book with your interpretation of everything, without the, ah how did you call it, the Interloper. The story was Good but I think you could make it Great

YEAH. There was so much weird shit that was glossed over. Like the mind control thing on the Tombtakers was sketchy and gross and the fact that it happened multiple times and yet Molly didn't have anything to say about it? Or like have anything to say about why he's not doing that to Beau and Caleb? Like they covered A LOT of Molly input on so many things, but not THAT. Also as much as it was IC, the fact that Roux had him do it so often (To CREE especially) and yet never explained why he didn't do it to Beau and Caleb left a bad taste in my mouth.

Also the focus on Brveyn should have been extended to ALL OF THE TOMBTAKERS. Like he made a comment about Cree after the Flesh Miette incident, but it seemed like Molly should have had more room to be like "these Tombtakers are your friends- see how the Mighty Nein are THIS IS HOW YOU TREAT YOUR FRIENDS NOT LIKE YOU'RE DOING." Like it felt like Roux didn't give a SHIT about the other Tombtakers and only wanted to focus on Brevyn but had to keep focusing on Cree (who in turn ALWAYS MENTIONS BREVYN) because she lasted longer and it makes me a little prickly.

But yeah, like... I don't want to be an asshole, but it felt like they chose Roux to handle the spooky stuff and she did that really well and some part of her just had maybe all of the respect for who Lucien is as a character and how he behaves and then ZERO respect for the characters around him that already exist, like a twelve year old girl creating an OC to ship with her favorite male character and forgetting everyone else exists, which I know because I HAVE BEEN THAT TWELVE YEAR OLD GIRL. I know what this looks like because I HAVE WRITTEN IT.

I'd really love to... finagle a silk purse out of this sow's ear because yeah it's good and so much that is good I wouldn't want to improve on, but God I just want to or have someone else rewrite the whole damn thing where Brevyn either doesn't exist, gets replaced by the sister (seriously if Lucien had dragged his baby sister into his bullshit and she got killed because of his ambitions and THAT haunted his narrative then that would be interesting), or has a lesser role and then her shit is distributed among the other Tombtakers with a majority of it going to Cree, it would be fine. Like... That is really all the book had to fucking do to be perfect- just show more of Lucien's bond AND CLOSENESS with the CHARACTERS HE IS SUPPOSED TO FUCKING HAVE A BOND WITH.

It doesn't make any fucking sense to do what was done unless it came from someone who literally just didn't care about the other Tombtakers, which, I'm sorry, but no. All I fucking cared about was More Lucien AND the Tombtakers and it feels like I got shafted because a character who had no fucking reason to exist and the canon narrative doesn't support existing took away too much away from the canon characters and I think anyone who came into the story wanting that has a right to be annoyed and want better.

But yeah, idk what I'm gonna do except probably pettily write some Creecien fics set in this version of canon (BECAUSE NOTHING NOT ON STREAM IS CANON) where I can give her and the Tombtakers their just dues and start an Alternate Universe- No Brevyn tag, which sounds mean and I don't want to be an asshole because that's some author's baby, but... I'm sorry but Brevyn's not a bad character. I would like her outside of this context. She JUST DOES NOT BELONG HERE IN THIS STORY IN THIS WAY. It makes me feel like someone tricked me into buying their OCxCanon Character self-insert fic.

[jxngh]

Hey! It's me again with another request. 😅

What about a Hoseok that everyone underestimate and think that just because he's so adorable, a true gentleman and even cheesy that they don't think he can be good at bed.

So, some girls make a bet (idk let's pretend their work colleagues or they're in college, what suits you better) what they don't know is, that Hoseok somehow, actually finds out about this bet, but he's not bother at all, on the contrary, he's beyond thrilled since he's been wanted to fuck hard OC, so this is his chance to prove her how wrong she actually is.

The player will be end up being played.

A good boy with a little a very dirty secret behind doors. What do you think? 👀

hii!! this has been on my drafts for weeks and just finished it! hope you'll enjoy ✨ thank you so much for 600+ followers btw 🥺

if you enjoy my content please consider buying me a coffee 🥺🤍

your sweet boss is made a party for the ones who freshly started work with you. you didn't expect anything less from a gentleman as him. he was always disciplined but never not supportive and adorable. sometimes even cheesy.

you and your work colleagues were in the party. and after some food and drinks - and not seeing him around - they basically started gossipping. you were trying to be friends with the new colleagues but you all were in the same conversation so you kinda had to be in it.

"soo... what do you guys think about your new boss?" asked one of your close colleagues. she loved gossipping and stuff like that, was so fun all the time.

"he's super sweet...i don't know if it's because we're new to be honest." said the new girl. and the new boy added "i feel like he's a gentleman but...we don't know how is he in bed right?" he made a funny voice. you all laughed.

"bet he's not good at bed, seems too soft." your fun friend said while she's taking another bite from the food. and she turned to you before asking. "what do you think, __?"

"i don't know..." you looked at her, then the others. "he seems vanilla but i can't really say if he's bad."

they talked about it a little then the conversation changed.

you were still thinking about it tho. the thing you didn't know was that he heard your talk while he's getting another drink from a table closer to you guys.

after a week from the party, to check your work, he came to your room. at least that was what you thought. you thought that you did something wrong and he was here to show you how to fix it. as he did multiple times before.

but no, here he was showing you the plans of the new design of the office from the computer, too close to your face while he's behind the chair you're sitting at. you couldn't focus on the screen because of him.

and you couldn't decide if it's smell that is making your mind dizzy or the tone of his voice. there was definitely something different today.

"are you even listening __?" he asked and that was when you really started listening. your attention was on his side profile which is looking like he's a painting.

"oh uhm yes. sorry, i got distracted." you confessed.

that put a grin to his face. he came closer to you, leaving a deep breath. you felt small tingles on your neck.

"you're one of my best workers and you always listen carefully what i say, __. is something wrong?" he asked you, eyes traveling to your lips for a millisecond. the gap between you two was so small, you could feel his capturing smell making your mind dumb.

"n-nothing." you stuttered, trying too hard to look at him in the eyes. your mind was screaming at you that you should get back but you just stayed still.

he took a deep breath and tilted his head.

"is this vanilla?"

wha- what was he talking about? why did he just highlight the word? did he hear you talking? shit. you were going to be fired if he did. plus you didn't want him to hear those words, you just said it. ugh.

your eyes widened but you tried to act like he's talking about something else.

"what is?" you looked up at him, his breathtaking features. the grey suit was covering his body so well. damn, you thought.

he looked at you and talked before slightly smirking.

"the colour, __. what else could it be?"

you looked down and gulped before looking at him again.

"i d-don't know sir." you felt your cheeks getting hotter, shit. what was happening to you? you weren't exactly a shy type of woman but the sudden hint made you flustered.

he held the armrests of your chair and turned you to face him, then he gently nipped your chin and made you look up.

"why are you getting red? tell me what's on your mind, baby." he said staying still and leaving only few centimeters between your faces.

him calling you that sent a flutter to your heart. what happened to the sweetest boss you had? and more importantly, why did you want him so bad with just a word?

"thought you were thinking that i'm vanilla, but here you are getting even more red with a 'baby'..."

fuck. he knew. he knew what you've said. you wanted to speak and tell him that he misunderstood or something, at least try to fix this someway. but you couldn't, not when you were that close. you opened your mouth but no words came out. and your brain focused on his breath brushing your lips, he was looking amazing.

"i can prove you wrong baby. bet you'll only think and talk about me." he said before brushing his lips to yours for a second. you closed your eyes. then he watched your face with lust filled gaze of his.

your hand found his neck and pulled him close to a kiss. it was intense, wasn't so slow but not fast either. you felt his hands coming down and holding your waist, then down and grabbing your ass while he sucked your bottom lip. after that he lifted you and made you sat on your table.

he started to give your ass hard squeezes while groaning into your mouth.

"mmmh " he said before spreading your legs and rolling his hips against yours.

he was so hard and you were sure your panties were wet after that kiss. and now he was sucking marks to your neck to collarbone. you loved the feeling of getting marked by him. the way he touched you were mind-numbing.

"mmph, please." you moaned, not able to opening your eyes from the feeling.

he smirked and held your waist tightly. then rolled his hips to yours, it was harder this time.

"name it baby. please what?" he asked leaving a peck to the sweet spot under your ear. it sent tingles to your body, you held his head and pulled him closer. now you were face to face, his eyes were half lidded and full with lust, looking deeply into your ones.

"please sir, prove me wrong." you said breathily.

he smiled for a second, then kissed your lips hungrily. then with a low moan he sent his tongue to meet yours. and yeah,he was so good at it. it was like his tongue is dancing on yours. you couldn't help but whimper.

you felt his hands getting under your dress, playing with the thin waistband while he leaves low grunts to your mouth. the vibration was making you feel some type of way. your whimpers were telling the same thing.

your hands found his belt and unbuckled it without breaking the intense kiss you've having with him. he slid your panties aside and started to rub his hand to your wetness.

"fuck." he breathed havily. "all of this is for me? fuck baby, you make me wanna ruin you."

you smiled and palmed his erection, getting low curses from him. you could feel him twitching.

"i'm ready sir." you said, looking at his hungry expression. your hands were resting on the waistband of his underwear. you slowly pulled it down.

he was long and pretty. and definitely ready to fuck. the gray suit he wore was looking so rich, and the fact that he still had it on was a turn on to you.

he didn't waste anymore time and pushed himself to you in one thrust. your moans and his grunts mixed. he was holding your waist and sucking your neck.

"ah sir, move. please."after checking your face he continued his movement slowly. you could feel every inch of him, he was so deep and filling you so well.

he started to move faster, making you jolt with every push of his hips. you needed to get support from your hands, holding the table tightly.

"such a pretty baby, spreading herself for me on her table, crying under me." he said pulling himself back almost fully. "still thinking i'm vanilla?" he said and pushed himself harder, finding the spot easily. and now he was fucking you rough.

"n-no sir, ohh yes." you replied and felt your high coming, by the way his dick twitches inside of you after every moan of yours you could tell he's close too.

he kept his pace, made you lose control of your moans while he leaves low grunts to your neck, whispers dirty stuff to your ear.

"come as i say pretty." he said and gave deep thrusts, getting faster and going slower and deeper again. your pussy started to clench like crazy. if you weren't being held by him you'd probably fall because how hard he fucks.

"come." he said and you both came, you were a moaning mess.

he pulled himself out and fixed your dress after fixing his suit, getting ready to leave.

"guess i proved it all wrong, huh?" he said, watching your not so out of bliss face. it was a strong high.

"i can't believe i thought that sir." you said looking at his lips involuntarily. you were still between your desk and him. he moved closer and kissed you slowly. then his hands found the marks he left on your skin.

"everybody will know who left these marks on you baby. you can cover it up... or you can keep it and i can take you a proper date tonight. cause this wasn't just sex for me. what'd you say?"

his words made your heart flutter. you couldn't help but smile.

"of course."

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[livexdolan]

The Cage - Part One

A/n: so hi! This is a UFC based fic about Grayson Dolan. This is an AU with an OC. There is no face claim as of now but they might change idk. I’m not going to ramble lol I’m just very very nervous. Anywho please enjoy and let me know what you think! There will be many parts to this series by the way lol so this part is kind of slow but just wait aha

Word Count: 5924

Warnings: fluff, mentions of death, explicit language, and triggering topics (maybe?) mentioned

“I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to be famous- never telling anyone but I’ve always wanted to know- wanted to get in the head of someone famous and see what they go through- but I could’ve never guessed this was how I was going to find out.

It all started when I was 22, fresh out of college, with a crappy assistant job at a publishing company in Los Angeles, California. Having been stuck at this job for almost three years and never even having my articles read, I was starting to lose hope that I would never be more than an assistant. Until one day…”

“Lily! Get in here! And bring me a coffee!” I scurry to Mr. Lane’s office, clutching the coffee I had just gone and grabbed for him, stopping by my desk to grab my notebook and pen.

I opened his glass door and put his coffee down on his desk, pushing up my glasses as I opened my notebook and clicked my pen, looking up at him expectantly, waiting for him to say what he needed me to do. He looks at me, his eyes bright at first but quickly losing their color and he sighs as though he’s already exasperated, “What is this?” He holds up a copy of a story I had put on his desk.

Oh jeez, another rejection. I push my glasses up again and start to stutter out an explanation in a quiet voice, “Well, I-I heard you talking to some of the reporters about need-needing a new story for next week's issue and well, I-I already had an idea so I thought I’d-” He cuts me off with a quick raise of his hand and a stoic look on his face, giving nothing away.

“Look,” he sighs and rubs his face with both hands before continuing, “It’s not a bad story, but it’s a half-baked idea. That’s your problem. That’s why you haven’t gotten a byline yet- you can never deliver a full idea- let alone a full article, do you understand?”

I look down, refusing to let him see my cheeks burn red and my eyes water. This is what he says every time I give him an idea. “Do you want to be a journalist?” He questions.

I make eye contact with him quickly lifting my head and squaring my shoulders to try and seem more confident, “More than anything, sir.”

“Well then, I have a proposition for you.” He gets up from his chair, his tall, lean body going to perch on the corner of his desk as he looks up at me his blue eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint, “I’ll give you a lead, and if you can follow through and get me a full 12000-word article by Monday, you can keep your job and I might throw you a lead here and there. But if you fail to deliver…” He pauses momentarily, thinking over his next words carefully, “you lose your job.”

I gasp and try to reason with myself for a second, making a mental pro-con list before replying quietly, “What’s the article on?”

He shakes his head and smirks lightly, filling my stomach with more unease, “No, you have to agree to the proposition. Then, I will tell you the story.”

Can I do this? Can I risk everything? I mean, that’s what my life’s been so far, a lot of risks and sacrifices. But is this a sacrifice I’m willing to make?

What would mom do? I sigh, “O-ok. Okay, I accept. Now, what’s the story?”

He claps his hands together excitedly and looks up at me with a boyish grin, he moves swiftly behind his desk and grabs an envelope, handing it to my shaky hands, “Grayson Dolan, he fights tonight here at the arena, go with a press pass, get an interview with him and ask him a couple of questions. Oh, and make sure we get a quote.”

I stare at him open-mouthed, frozen to my spot, “What? The Grayson Dolan?! You and I are both very aware that he refuses to do interviews. This isn’t even possible.” I say without trying to raise my voice too much.

Jace just leans back in his desk chair, lacing his fingers together and putting them behind his head, “Not my problem- it’s yours now. If I don’t have that story in my hand Monday morning, just pack your things up and leave, got it?” He smirks up at me.

I just silently walk out of his office and back to my desk, sitting down and putting my head against the cool wood surface. I don’t know if I want to cry or punch myself in the face.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

“And then he told me that if I accept- but fail to give him a story- I lose my job!”

“Wow! I never liked that guy, you know. He gives off such- such a douchebag vibe.”

I can’t help but chuckle at my dad’s voice dropping a little, he hasn’t been big on cursing since mom passed. At first, it was weird because both my parents cussed when I was growing up. But after mom passed, dad decided that, ‘there’s enough hate in the world’ and that he’s not going to add to it with foul language.’

“I know Dad, but what am I supposed to do?”

“Don’t accept it! You should never risk your whole career on whether or not some guy is feeling up to an interview!”

“Ok, one-” I start, “it is not just some guy! This is Grayson Dolan! And two,” I lower my voice and chew my lip, a bad habit I picked up in middle school, “I already agreed.”

“Of course you did!” he sounds exasperated and I pull my phone away from my ear a little out of reflex, “You are just like your mother, you know that?” he sighs and the line goes quiet.

“Daddy?” I whisper into the phone. He stays silent. It’s my turn to sigh and fall back onto my couch. I mutter into the phone, “He wouldn’t tell me the story until I accepted. I have to go get ready, I’ll talk to you after the match. I’ll be sitting ringside so look for me, ok?”

“Ok, I will. I’m still not happy about this.”

“I know Dad, you’re not happy with two-thirds of the things I do.”

That gets a reluctant chuckle out of him, “I guess you’re right. Good luck, by the way. If anyone can get an interview out of Dolan- it’d be you. And if you can’t, your childhood bedroom would love to have you back.”

“Ha-ha. Thanks. I love you.”

“Love you too baby, I’ll see you soon?”

“Dad,” my stomach drops at his hopeful voice and I can’t bring myself to tell him the truth, “Maybe, bye.”

I hang up the phone before he can say anything and I sink into the couch.

I wake with a start, my neck sore from the back of the couch. Oh no. I grab my phone in a haste, I turn it on and my whole body sags in relief when the time shows up; 6:45.

I have about an hour and a half to get ready, that’s enough time!

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Wrong. Very wrong. I feel a wave of heat wash over me, igniting my anxiety as I look at the time on my phone; 7:45.

I quickly put on my normal, light makeup consisting of moisturizer, skin tint, blush on my cheeks and nose, giving me an almost sunburnt look. I shape my eyebrows a little, fix my glasses, and put on my chapstick. I quickly brush out my short, wavy hair and clip back the front parts. I shake my head slightly to get my bangs in place and do one last check in the mirror before heading to my closet.

Too pink. Too casual. Too tight. Too- ugh where did I even get that from? I start moving the hangers faster, getting frustrated with my lack of options. I move past a pastel purple dress- wait. I go back to the dress and grab it off the rod, holding it up in the light.

When did I buy this? My eyebrows furrow as I look at the beautiful and delicate dress that I must’ve forgotten about. I pull it off the hanger and slowly put it on, saying a silent prayer that it fits.

I smooth the soft material out and look in the mirror. I’m pleasantly surprised by how the dress fits. It’s silk with spaghetti straps and is a lilac color with little flowers all over it.

I don’t have time to overthink my outfit now. I throw on my roommate’s white Timberlands, grab my black purse, making sure my ID, wallet, and phone are all tucked safely inside. I grab my press pass and put the lanyard around my head carefully.

Taking a deep breath, I walk out to the living room where my roommate is sitting waiting for me to come out.

I clear my throat and try not to look too awkward. Ryan looks up from her MacBook and gasps, tossing her laptop onto the couch next to her, she moves over to me, her long legs gracefully walking around the coffee table.

She investigates every part of my outfit, making me feel small and self-conscious. Before I can stop myself, I start rambling in a quiet tone, “Is-is this too much? Do you th-think it looks okay?”

She grasps my shoulders and a wide smile makes its way onto her face, “Of course, you look amazing!” I smile at her and she winks at me, “When that pretentious ass sees you- he might want to do more than just let you interview him.”

I snort and roll my eyes and she laughs, “Yeah right,” I mumble.

She walks over to our coat rack and pulls off a small black cardigan, “Here, I know it gets cold in there,” I smile gratefully and take it from her, folding it over the crook of my arm and taking a deep breath.

I start to walk towards the door and she calls my name, I look back at her as I open the door, “You look hot Lil- knock ‘em dead,” I smile at her and nod, walking out before I get sappy.

I pull into the busy parking lot of the arena and gulp down my bubbling anxiety. I find a parking spot, towards the back of the lot seeing as I don’t get bothered by having to walk a little. I go up to the line, seeing a sign that says, ‘PRESS ENTRANCE HERE’ I smile at the worker looking at me and pointing to the Press sign and then at my pass hanging around my neck, he nods.

I go towards the other entrance and show a different security guard my pass and he opens a door for me, I smile up at him, “Thank you-” I glance at the small name tag, “Don.” He blushes slightly and coughs.

I blush too and walk through the door quickly. I realize that I’m ‘backstage’ and can hear the fans cheering for one of the main card fights happening. I check my small watch and see that it’s going to be another hour or so before Grayson Dolan fights.

I take another deep breath and start walking forward, trying not to look like a lost puppy and failing when a man wearing a UFC crew shirt comes over to me with furrowed brows, “Who’re you looking for?”

I look at him, his deep voice vibrating against the walls, “Grayson Dolan,” I answer back.

He gives me a once-over and I try not to make a face when he meets my eyes and smirks, “Oh, he’ll like you.” I furrow my brows but decide not to question it as he points down a long hallway, “Four doors down, take a right, then the last door on the left is him- the one that’ll say, Grayson Dolan.” I thanked him even though he was a bit rude, and made my way down.

Once I turn down the hallway I see someone sitting outside one of the rooms on a single chair. I make my way closer and my heart drops into my stomach when I see it’s a girl sitting outside Grayson Dolan’s room, “Hello? Are-Are you okay?”

The girl looks up at me from her phone and gives me a once-over, except it’s different from the way the worker did- she looks annoyed with me. She stands up, her high heels making her about an inch or two taller than me, “Who are you?” She asks, crossing her arms over her chest, pushing her cleavage up.

I cough to clear my throat a little, taken back by her abrasive tone, “I’m a reporter- Are you okay?”

“I’m perfectly fine, and if you’re here for Grayson Dolan- he won’t talk to you.”

“I- I’m sorry, why do you say that?” The woman steps closer to me and I try not to gag at the smell of her cheap, overused perfume. I step back from her and she straightens up slightly, glowering at me.

“Just run along, maybe you’ll understand when you’re grown,” She says, looking back at her phone, when she glances up and sees I’m not leaving she rolls her eyes, “Grayson Dolan doesn’t talk to reporters. I wouldn’t be surprised if you weren’t actually a reporter anyway, you’re probably just here to fuck him, huh? Get in line,” She laughs.

My whole body feels like it’s on fire. I don’t understand why she’s being so rude and malicious towards me but I have to get this interview. I can’t let people like her bring me down anymore. When she gives me a fake smile and sits back down, I decide to be the bigger person. Not snapping back at her and ignoring her. Because she doesn’t know me and she doesn’t know what I’ve been through.

The door opens before I can say anything anyways and we both look over, startled. A man looks over at us, then turn and glances back inside the room before he nods, looking at me, and asking what my name is, “Lily Taylor, here with Ace Publis-” I try to tell him but he cuts me off opening the door wider and my eyes widen as he tells me to come in. I try to keep from laughing when the girl asks if she can come in but he just shakes his head at her, I turn around quickly before he shuts the door, “If I were you- I wouldn’t lie to others and say you’re around his age, it’s very obvious that you’re old enough to be his mom,” And the door shuts on her shocked face.

I realize my heart is pounding in my ears and that is probably the meanest thing I’ve ever done, “I should probably apologize,” I whisper to myself and jump slightly when I hear a deep chuckle.

“What can I help you with, Ms. Taylor?” My shoulders tense at the familiar voice and I turn around slowly, facing a couch with a very amused Grayson Dolan sitting on it.

“I- I’m so sorry for being so rude to her. I didn’t mean to be.”

“Why do you think I’d care about her? She’s been sitting out there for two hours,” He laughs and I think he caught the raise of my eyebrow but ignores it, “I asked you once, Ms. Taylor, I don’t like repeating myself.” He reminds me of his question.

I square my shoulders, “I’m here with Ace Publishing & Co., I would love if you could answer some questions for me,” I smile at him, trying to come off as friendly.

His amused expression drops and he scoffs, “You’re one of them? God- here I was hoping you were a die-hard fan. Was going to make you feel very special,” He smirks at me and I scrunch my nose out of habit at his gross words. I quickly stop, realizing I need this, “Frank- show Ms. Taylor out please,” He sighs, and my eyes widen and I stick my hands out and Frank stops moving for a second.

“Wait! Wait! Please I-” Frank huffs at my refusal to move and grabs my arm as I move closer to Grayson, “Please. I wouldn’t be this adamant if I didn’t need this. Please. My career is counting on this moment. Please, I will get down on my knees and beg if I have to, please,” I put my hands in a pleading gesture, hoping he’d take pity.

He holds his hand up to Frank and he lets go of my arm, I sigh and straighten up a little, hoping to gain back some of the dignity I seemed to have lost, “What do you mean?” He cocks his head to the side curiously and I blush, glancing at the ground.

“My boss he uh- he told me that if I don’t get at least a quote from you I can kiss my job goodbye and well, it’s not the best job but I’ve worked my ass off to get where I’m at and he’s being unfair and I understand that this isn’t your problem and I understand why you don’t like to talk to interviewers-”

He cuts me off, “You know why I don’t talk to interviewers?” I look up at him and nod meekly, “Why? Explain it to me,” he crosses his arms and I think he might be upset with me.

I look back down at the ground and take a breath, glancing back up at him through my lashes, “You don’t do interviews because doing an interview is personal and revealing. You’re scar- scared to let the world see who the Grayson Dolan is because you don’t think they’ll like you as much.”

He cocks his eyebrow and uncrosses his arm, sighing, looking away from me to the wall, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek as he contemplates for a minute, “You got like 20 minutes to ask me whatever you want, and no stupid questions that all the interviewers ask, okay?” I nod and move to sit in the chair next to the couch.

“Do you mind if I record this? I’d like to keep this paper-free, meaning I don’t have a notebook out and try to write everything down. We’re just going to have a conversation and let it flow. I can stop recording at any time if you say something you’d like erased. I’m not here to expose you, just here to get to know you. As a person. Not as a fighter. I’m not going to ask you anything about how being a fighter’s been or what your inspiration is. I’m going to ask you about you. As a whole. Because the UFC is not your personality,” I explain to him, pulling my phone out and pulling up my voice memos app and looking back up to him, waiting for an answer.

He stares at me until finally, I say his name quietly, hoping he’s okay, he blinks and flushes, shifting, “Sorry, y-yeah, that’s okay. I just- I didn’t expect you to be like- acting like a human.”

I laugh and start recording, “Maybe that means I’m a bad journalist? I don’t know- I feel like it’s easier to connect and get the questions in without papers and cameras and all that other stuff.”

(this part is going to be a dialogue as though we are just listening to the recording)

“That makes sense, and no I can tell you’re going to be great, you treat me like I’m just- a guy, which doesn’t happen often.”

“I bet, you don’t deserve that though. Okay, I’m going to start us off with some icebreakers- so tell me what your childhood dream job was, your favorite ice cream flavor, and 3 things you do on the weekends.”

“Oh, jeez, what is this- first day of 6th grade? Fine- Uh, I always wanted to be a pro wrestler, that was my dream job as a kid. My favorite- vegan- ice cream flavor is probably mint chocolate chip. And, uhm, three things I do on the weekends...okay okay I got it; eat, sleep, workout. Now you.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you, Miss Reporter. If you want this to flow you gotta participate as well.”

“Okay, fine. Uh- as a kid I always wanted to be a veterinarian, and then when I was like 10 I realized I wanted to be a writer. My favorite ice cream flavor is probably mint chocolate chip as well. And on the weekends...I’d probably say; read, watch fights with my dad, and drink tea with my best friend at a cafe.”

“Every single weekend?”

“Yeah, my dad lives on the other side of the country so we do a FaceTime call and watch UFC together. My roommate has a job that takes up a lot of her time during the week so we go to this small cafe by our house every weekend.”

“Wow.”

(this is where the rest of the interview would be but, for later in the timeline, we aren’t going to cover every question she asks him :))

“Okay, now tell me about your family. Where you grew up, were your parents married, did you have a dog, and how do you think this all helped make you the man you are today?”

“I grew up in New Jersey; my dad left when I was 10. I’m allergic to dogs and cats, so I have a parrot named Gizmo. My mom never remarried and my sister lives with her. My brother and I moved to LA when we were 18, with no money, no job, just hope. We went to a gym and asked them if they’d train us. The next thing I knew, my brother was getting a job working at the gym and becoming one of my trainers. I learned how to fight and used my wrestling experience and worked my way into the UFC.”

“You didn’t answer my last question.”

“Yes, I did.”

“No, you told me how you got started in the UFC. I don’t want to know about that- everyone knows that story already. I want to know how you think the things you went through as a child have shaped you as a person.”

“I- I guess- I don’t know, to be honest. I don’t think much of who I’ve become so that question is hard to answer.”

“Why do you say that? You are one of the most accomplished men in America.”

“To others, but this- I wasn’t supposed to be a fighter. Everyone sees me as accomplished but I just feel like this was an accident. There was no great event in my life that caused me to become an MMA fighter- it just happened.”

“You don’t believe in fate, Mr. Dolan?”

“No, I don’t. Do you, Ms. Taylor?”

“Yes, I believe that we all have a path we are meant to follow and that everything happens for a reason.”

“Why?”

“Because- I don’t know- it’s nicer than the alternative to me, I guess. I don’t want to live in a world where nothing has a reason behind it. We’ll move on to the next question. You don’t disclose personal information; relationships, family, children, etcetera.”

“Where are you going with this?”

“Why is that? Are you afraid?”

“Afraid? Of what?”

“The same reason I said earlier as to why you don’t like interviews; you are scared people will see the real Grayson Dolan and not like you as much or think you’re different.”

“Are you like- a profiler or something? Why do you think that?”

“I’m not a profiler- I’m a journalist. It’s my job to look for clues, pick up on the small things about someone no one else would notice.”

“Ok, I’ll accept that. Is it my turn to ask you questions?”

“No that’s not how this works.”

“You said you wanted this to be like a normal conversation, did you not?”

“Yes, I did say that, but-”

“Okay, well, I don’t know about you but normally when I’m getting to know someone- I get to ask questions just like they do.”

“Fine. What do you want to know?”

“I want to know...if you’ll go out with me?”

“What? Like on a- like on a date?”

“Yes, a date, Ms. Taylor.”

“Uh- I don’t know, maybe, I-”

“30 minutes to the fight, Dolan! Gotta get you warmed-up!”

(the story is back to normal now)

“So?” He questions as he stands up and I try to gather all my stuff. Trying to push down the butterflies while I stop the recording. I just continue to get more flustered, especially when he puts his hand out for me and I shyly take it, he pulls me to my feet and I stare at him through my lashes.

“I- sure. On one condition,” I smile slyly up at him and he raises an eyebrow at me, I ignore the unfamiliar feeling between my thighs at the look on his face and continue quickly, “You have to win this fight. I’ll be in the front row watching. If you win- I’ll go out with you.”

He smiles and then chuckles, “I thought you were going to make it hard? I could win this fight in my sleep baby, I’ll let you know the time after the fight, just stick around, yeah?”

I snort and roll my eyes, ignoring the pull on my heart when he calls me baby, “I’ll be there,” He smiles at me again and I jump a little in surprise when I feel his warm, large hand on the small of my back, he opens the door for me and leads me into the hallway.

I try not to laugh at the face of the Instagram model when she sees Grayson’s hand on me, “I’ll be looking for you in the front row, just so you know.” He teases.

I smile at him and kiss him on the cheek, “I’ll be the one cheering the loudest. Knock Em dead!” I walk away quickly and glance back seeing him standing there, his right hand gently going up to touch the spot I kissed and we both blush. My heart drops into my stomach when he looks over and sees the model. I have to turn the corner and get to my seat so I don’t see how he reacted. He wouldn’t sleep with her right after asking me out, would he? My subconscious snaps back; you barely know the man! Maybe he does this all the time! I push her down and ignore the bad feeling in my gut.

As I sit down in my seat, everything that just happened hits me and I slouch into my seat, what. the. fuck. I’m going on a date with Grayson Dolan! I got an interview with Grayson Dolan! I kissed Grayson Dolan on the cheek! I bite back a smile and take out my phone, taking a video showing me smiling at the camera, then flipping the camera around and showing off how close I am to the octagon. I sent it to my dad quickly.

He responds almost immediately.

*From Daddy: Wow!! So cool! Have tons of fun! Not too much though! Not ready to be a grandpa...yet ;)

I snort and roll my eyes, responding and then turning my phone off when the lights in the arena dim.

*To Daddy: Lmao, shut up. I’ll try to have fun though! The main card is starting! I’ll talk to you later, love you <3

After I watch a few of the fights before Graysons’, I take some pictures and jot down some information about the fights and who won, knowing it’ll add more substance to my piece.

I watch as the whole arena transforms and the whole place is bursting with barely-contained energy and the place goes dark. Suddenly, lights start beaming and music starts playing, I smile at the Kid Cudi (each fight he uses a different Cudi song) choice for tonight- Enter Galactic as it blasts through the speakers everyone goes wild, Grayson moving swiftly to the octagon with his head low and singing the song softly to himself. I can tell he’s not the same Grayson I was talking to, he has flipped the switch- as he told me he does- and is now The Grayson Dolan- UFC Fighter and Champion.

He takes his shirt off and I blush at his tan skin, the rippling muscles making my brain go straight in the gutter. The ‘doc’ pats him down and puts vaseline on his face. I try not to laugh at how weird he looks with his eyebrows slicked down.

He makes his way into the octagon and I see him scanning the front row when his eyes land on mine. I smile at him but he just gives me a curt nod in response before turning away. I’m taken aback by his attitude but I know he has to stay in his fighter mentality.

The other fighter, Dominick Reyes, comes in and he has a good amount of people cheer for him but the majority of the arena boos when he comes out. I know that having some of how this fight goes in my article will make it look better because it’s such a big deal, so I jot some notes down, some about Grayson and some about Reyes.

I subconsciously chew on my nail, scolding myself when I realize what I’m doing. He’s going to win. I tell myself to calm down, I’ve never been to a fight before so the chaotic and anxiety-filled energy around me must be getting to my head.

The ref announces them both, and then they go to the middle, Grayson goes to touch Reyes’ fist, but Reyes pulls back and smirks at Grayson, “C’mon pretty boy,” he sings.

Grayson’s jaw clenches and he starts moving around the octagon, Reyes slowly falling into a pattern of chasing him around. Grayson continues to step to the right until suddenly, he moves to the left, and Reyes doesn’t see it. I watch in astonishment as he puts all of his power into the punch, hitting Reyes perfectly on the temple. Reyes drops to the ground and Grayson’s about to follow him to the mat but the ref stops him, officially calling the fight. Grayson looks over at me, my mouth hanging wide open and he smirks, winking at me.

That asshole just winked at me.

I stand up quickly, cheering loudly with everyone else and he shakes his head, turning back to his team as they run into the octagon to hug him. Once Grayson is done with everything and the crowd starts shuffling out, Grayson comes over to me, “D’you see that?” He smiles and I smile back.

“Yeah, yeah, I saw,” He chuckles and grabs my arm pulling me into him.

I gasp as I hit his hard, sweaty chest, “You’re sweaty,” I scrunch my nose up and try to pull away but he tightens his grip, staring down at me with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“You owe me a date,” He responds and I roll my eyes, ignoring the hammering of my heart at how close we are to each other.

“What time and where?” I say, acting bored.

He chuckles down at me, “I’ll pick you up at 5:30. This Saturday. Just bring your beautiful self and don’t worry about anything else.”

“What’s the dress code?” I raise my eyebrow and he shrugs.

“Whatever you want to wear, although I’ll tell you right now they might frown upon you wearing lingerie or something like that.”

I snort and as he moves away from me a little and we start walking behind his team I realize that I’m a lot colder than I realized, rubbing my arms subconsciously and realizing that I left my sweater in the car damn it.

Grayson notices me rubbing my arms and bumps my shoulder, “You cold?”

“A little. I have a sweater in the car, I’ll be fine.”

He frowns as he opens the door to his dressing(?) room, “I have a jacket you can wear.”

He goes over to a chair in the corner and grabs a big, soft black jacket with DOLAN on the back and the UFC and Reebok logo on the front. I shake my head, “No, r-really it’s- it’s okay,”

“Just take it, you can give it back later, s’not a big deal, I don’t need it. I’m way too hot right now.”

He hands it over to me and I look down at it in his hands and then glance back at him, crossing my arms. He rolls his eyes and comes over to me, putting it on my shoulders and looking down at me, “Just wear it. Please?” He whispers and I flush, seeing that if I moved too fast our lips would be touching.

I nod softly and he steps back. I take a deep breath and put my arms through the sleeves and the jacket immediately warms me. I relax into the warmth and pull it tighter around me and he smirks, “Like you in my clothes.”

I blush and look down, “I- I should be goi-going,” I point my thumb at the door and he bites back a smile.

“Yeah, I’ll see you Saturday then?”

I nod and stutter out a response as I walk back to the door, “Y-yep! 5:30! Wait- I didn’t give you my address o-or my phone num-Ow!” I yelp in surprise when the door handle digs into my lower back and he can’t hold back his laugh as he walks over to me, trapping me between him and the door.

I swallow at his large frame covering me up, his arms resting on each side of the wall by my head, I can see his large biceps and the veins running up his arms in my peripheral vision. He smirks and leans down, “Check your pocket,” he says softly and I look up at him with furrowed brows.

I slowly move my hands to the jacket pockets and after digging around a little I feel a small piece of paper in the right pocket. I pull it out and open it up. I glance up at him in surprise at the digits scribbled onto the paper.

“H-How did you- why-” He cuts me off by moving away from me, my body on fire from how close he had been to me.

I move off the door when he motions for me to move and he opens the door, “Ms. Taylor,” He says, trying to hide a smirk.

I scoff incredulously and walk past him, stopping outside the door in the cold hallway, I turn back to look at him before I walk away to go have a panic attack in my car, “Mr. Dolan.”

A/n: okayyy so I know it’s bad and I’ll be editing it soon but I’m posting this on an ipad lmfao so please cut me some slack.

Tag List:

@pineappledols @episkygrant @georgia302 @dolan-habits @leahs-existentialcrisis @persistence-ofmemories @bubsdolan @ohdolans @vinylhazza​ @vintagedolan​​ @astrodolan @zeusgrayson @deeperdolan @blindedbythelightt @dolsobsessionz @evergreendolan​ @dicedols @plantbasedgray

[moral-turpitudes]

Swan Lake:

Masterlist | Rules | Peaky Prompts

A/N: This idea came to me at like 3 am and idk why, it’s totally not canon or whatever but it was fun to write. I also don’t know anything about ballet so don’t come for my neck lol. 

Trigger Warnings: Swearing, Fluff, Angst, Slight Mentions of/Implied Physical and Emotional Abuse, Descriptions of Death/Fighting etc.

Word Count: 3,977

Characters: Thomas Shelby x Female!Reader

+ Jack Timmons (OC, albeit a shitty one)

Requested: No

Summary: After constant threats of losing her position in a prominent ballet company, Y/N feels trapped in her circumstances. That is until an infamous blue-eyed gangster stumbles upon her one night, helping her leave her past behind, because sometimes that’s the best thing you can do.

“One, two, three. One, two, three.” Y/N counted to herself as she rehearsed in the quiet concert hall. Her nerves still a mess as the ear-splitting voice of her department head played on a loop in her mind. His harsh words stinging as she continued on.

With every leap and pirouette, her toes and tired muscles screamed to be free from their routine binds that held them together. Her corset digging into her skin, the paper thin pantyhose ripping on her knees from a nasty fall, and her feet cracking and bleeding with each new pair of ballet slippers she broke-in. On nights like this, she often questioned what she was doing this for. Was it for glory? For money? For distraction? It seemed only time could tell.

Unbeknownst to her, a man looked on from the dark entrance. A cigarette in hand as he observed her movements. His eyes alert as he’d heard a man yelling moments before.

Smoke escaped his lips as he watched in silence. The only music coming from inside the woman’s head, her body moving in strict motions to the beat she’d memorized from the orchestra that would usually play during shows. Her instructors voices in her head, threatening to fire her if she didn’t do better.

She never thought that something that brought her so much joy could bring her so much pain, but that seemed to be how things went in life, at least for her.

As she ended her dance, she sat on the cold stage, untying the stiff slippers and wincing as the fabric clung to her bloodied feet. No matter the cloth she put around them, she always found cuts and blisters ambushing her skin. This was the price she paid for perfection. Dancing was her “thing.” Her one gift to the world. The one thing that she’d always have, that no one could ever take away from her.

But with tear filled eyes she looked up at the spotlight beaming down on her, the makeup that was once well kept, slowly being washed away by the tears rushing down her cheeks.

As she ripped her gaze from the blinding light, she thought she felt eyes on her. Feverishly blinking the colorful spots on her vision away as she looked out into the empty seats, where a set of blue eyes stared back, their owner stoic and unmoving.

“Hello?” She asked, her heart racing slightly as she painstakingly walked off the stage and down the middle isle towards the man. Trying her best to wipe her tears away.

“Sorry to startle you miss. Just observing.” He said gruffly, cigarette smoke escaping his lips.

“Why are you here...? What’s your name...? Who do you work for...?” She asked in a barrage of questions, her nerves frazzled as she stood before him.

His blue eyes pierced hers as he took in the state of her. Elegantly hiding the pain behind a powder pink façade.

“I stopped in while on business and I heard yelling.” He said, adjusting his peaked cap, the razor blades glinting off the dull light from outside the theater.

Her breath hitched in her throat as she realized what gang he was a part of. Remembering talk around the city that they were moving in on London. Making threats and crashing party halls more often than not.

“Everything’s fine, sir.” She said, wiping a stray tear from her cheek.

“You don’t look fine.” He said.

“You haven’t answered my questions, sir.” She said, deflecting his comments and looking at him skeptically. With a sigh, and a long drag from his cigarette, he spoke.

“My name is Thomas, Thomas Shelby. But you can call me Tommy if you like...” He said walking towards her. Her heart racing slightly as she stood in place.

“...and I’m a man who does bad things. But don’t worry love, I have no bad business with you.” He said, gradually walking towards door.

“Wait....” She said, looking around the empty theater nervously as he stopped in his tracks.

“Why exactly were you watching me?” She asked, walking to him.

He sighed as the cigarette burnt down to the last little bit, ending with him throwing it on the tiled floor and stomping it out.

“I wanted to make sure you were alright....and then I saw you dancing to no music. It intrigued me.” He said flatly.

“How so?” She said, crossing her arms at the infamous gang leader.

“Because I can hear it too.” He said.

“You memorized the song? How? You haven’t seen the show.” She said, walking down the stairs with the mysterious man.

“My mother used to play it at home and she’d dance, quite like you. I recognized the routine.” He said, standing near the exit. The streets bustling with people under the moonlit sky.

“You don’t look like someone who listens to music. Do you dance?” She asked, beguiled by the rather handsome blinder.

“I liked a lot of things before the war. Dancing was one of them. But now?.....No.” he said shaking his head slightly as he continued.

“Sometimes life has a way of taking things from us.” He said softly, lighting another cigarette as he stood before her.

“That it does.” She said, glancing at her tired hands as he observed her once more, how she stood and how her hair fell limply around her face, framing it ever so gently.

“I’m probably overstepping my bounds...Tommy. But uh, if you’re ever in need of dancing lessons...I can help. Free of charge.” She said, the thought escaping her lips on a whim. Her mind racing with wanting to dance anywhere but there in that dreadful theater.

“Free of charge aye? Do you make a lot at these shows?” He asked, his eyes boring into hers.

“No. I’m actually on my way out. Was almost fired for the last show. I wasn’t good enough.” She said looking down.

“That’s a shame. I thought you did great.” He said.

“Tell that to the department head. I’m tired of ruining my body for something that doesn’t pay. I’d rather do it for fun. At least then life might be worth living.” She said, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Her pent up feelings slowly trickling out as the minutes passed.

“What do you do for fun, Tommy?” She asked, changing the subject.

He stood in thought, never really taking into account anything besides the noise in his head or the ache in his heart. Never giving himself the time for anything reminiscent of fun.

“I uh, work with horses I guess.” He said.

She nodded and sat in a chair near the exit, wincing and fiddling with the tulle of her tutu.

“So what do you say? Dancing or no?” She asked, a small smirk playing at her lips.

“I’ll accept your offer, on two conditions.” He said.

“Alright, what are your conditions oh infamous Mr. Shelby?” She asked, seeing a small smirk on his face. One that seemed to be uncomfortable, like it had been hidden for years.

“That you give me the name of your department head, and let me employ you.” He said bluntly.

“I’m not a killer, I’m just a dancer.” She said, looking down at her wrists. Bruises forming from many routines throughout the week and from her vile department head.

“You won’t deal with that kind of business. But I’d like to pay you. I can see that you work hard for what you want.” He said sitting next to her.

“You want me to dance for you? What like at some whore house?” She scoffed.

“No. You can dance for fun or teach or whatever it is you want to do. But a job with me, in my shop, can bring you the money you’re looking for. You won’t have to beat yourself up anymore.” He said, noticing the bruising hand prints around her wrists.

“I’ll think about it.” She said quietly, getting up and stretching out her arms, her muscles aching at the movement. Thomas headed towards the door abruptly, not wanting to keep her any longer considering he’d given orders to his brothers a while ago.

“Hey...” She said, stopping him.

“Mhmm?” He mumbled, lighting another cigarette.

“His name is Mr. Timmons. Jack Timmons. I hope you find him.” She said giving him a small, hurting smile before heading back towards the theater.

“Oh and miss?” He called back, making her turn around.

“Yes?”

“I never got your name.” He said.

“It’s Y/N...Y/N Y/L/N.” she said. Thomas nodded and reluctantly turned around, walking slowly into the night the next man on his hit list already buzzing through his mind.

As he stepped onto the cold London streets, he saw his brothers drinking and waiting by the car. Their faces covered in smoke-residue from their mission.

“Oi! What the fuck took you so long aye? We torched the bar down the road so we need to go.” Arthur said, taking a swig from a bottle of whiskey he’d stolen.

“I was doing a bit of legitimate business. Did you lot get the money?” He asked, revving the engine and peeling out onto the cold, damp roads towards Small Heath.

“Yeah. Got the whole thing. They won’t mess with us again. What kind of business were you doing in a fucking theater?” Arthur asked.

“Probably fucking one of the dancers.” John said, the toothpick dangling precariously on the edge of his mouth.

“I saw people leaving the show and decided to go there to clean off from our last raid. And I heard a man yelling at some woman there. He’s uh, been a bit of a problem but I can’t tell by how much just yet. He’s been working the woman to death for little pay...so I offered her a spot here.” He said.

“Why are you so caught up on the woman? What, is she gonna dance around the shop all day?” John asked, earning a chuckle from a drunken Arthur.

“I’m thinking she’d make a good assistant. I watched her after he left. She was the only one there, working on the same routine for an hour straight. Was bleeding by the time she was done.” He said.

“Well besides the woman, what are you wanting to do with the man aye? We’ve caused enough trouble here so far.” John said.

“I have a feeling this man is abusing the whole company or at least the woman I spoke to. She’s miserable, you can see it in her eyes. I only saw eyes like that in the trenches.” He said quietly, looking out at the sky through the thin windshield.

Over the next few days, it seemed her plight only grew as the dancers rehearsed, their instructors criticizing more than helping them as they moved to the beat. Y/N’s eyes fearful as their department head entered the room. The music stopping as they all sat on the stage as instructed.

Behind the stage, Thomas watched silently as the instructor eyed the women. The mans eyes only seeing money and fame instead of them as people. But his gaze seemed reserved for Y/N especially.

She was bruised from the repeated practice, the falls, and from the mans calloused hands that beat her beyond the theater walls. Threatening to fire her if she didn’t improve. Claiming he was “trying to save the company’s image.” Telling her she’d be working the streets in no time if she failed again.

Even though she tried her best, often putting in more work than her peers, it still wasn’t enough for Mr. Timmons and his dreadful company. The only thing getting her by was knowing that after the big show, things would settle down, knowing he’d go back to just yelling at her and occasionally at the others, instead of talking with his fists. But the pay remained the same, barely keeping a roof over her head throughout the years.

“Y/N, I’ve seen your performances these past few weeks and they’re all the same. The turns are too loose, your footing is off, and you’re out of step with the others. I don’t see why you can’t do better.” He said loudly as she stared him down. White-hot tears brimmed in her eyes as her face heated up in a mixture of anger and embarrassment. None the wiser to the blinder who’d watched it all unfold.

“Meet me backstage after this will ya? We have to discuss some matters over your position here.” He said, walking to the next girl and nodding his head. He moved on from each person giving small snide remarks, but they were nothing compared to what she’d gotten, and it filled her with rage. With a sigh, she wiped her tears and stood up. Decided then and there that she’d walk out. To make a scene like she’d dreamt to during the 5 years she’d worked there.

“Mr. Timmons...the only thing you’ll be doing backstage is shoving these up your ass.” She said, chucking the bloodied ballet slippers at him before exiting the stage and going to her dressing room, locking the door.

Thomas watched silently until Mr. Timmons excused the rest of them, leaving only him and the poor excuse for a man in the dimly lit area back stage.

As the man walked with a master key towards Y/N’s dressing room, Thomas quickly came up behind him. Hitting him in the back of the head with his gun and wrestling him to the floor. The man screaming through a bloodied mouth as he landed punch after punch to his face. Thomas soon removing his cap and slicing the mans eyes, blinding him instantly before shooting him.

Y/N watched from the doorway, dressed from head to toe in her normal clothes she’d came in with. Her eyes red and swollen from crying and her body aching from the mornings work.

She stood there silently, the sight of the man who tormented her making her smile slightly as she realized she was free of him.

“Y/N....” Thomas said, wiping the blood from his face as best he could as he stood up from the mans limp body.

“Thank you.” She said, sniffling a bit as she kept her tears at bay this time. Walking quickly out the door to the outside of the building, the cars whizzing by as the cold wind crept through her clothes.

Thomas quickly draped a nearby blanket over Timmons’ body, dragging it to the dressing room. But before leaving he retrieved the master key from his limp hand, locking the dead man inside as he cleaned up the mess from his handy-work.

As he looked in the bathroom mirror minutes later, he could see the blood on his skin, the metallic smell barely phasing him as he washed it down the drain. After cleaning up, he headed out the door, finding Y/N sitting on the pavement smoking a cigarette.

“Mind if I join you?” He asked, sitting by her and lighting his own, his hands bleeding slightly from the blows to Timmons’ face.

“Why not.” She said, fiddling with a pink ribbon in her hands that once kept her hair tightly in place.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” He said, sighing as he looked out at the mid afternoon sky. The city bustling around them.

“It’s alright. I’ve wanted that to happen for 5 years. Don’t worry though, after knowing him, nothing really scares me.” She said with a small smile, relief finally hitting her as she realized she’d probably never have to face the man again.

“He’s dead though right? Like you made sure he’s never coming back?” She asked, her eyes still nervously scanning the roads out of habit as the doubt crept in.

“He’s never coming back. I’m burying him tonight.” He said.

“Make sure it’s deep.” She said, the bruises on her wrists more prominent in the daylight.

“Always do.” He said looking at her wrists with a clenched jaw. Knowing full well Timmons was behind it.

“I’ve uh, thought about your offer by the way.” She said looking down at the ribbon.

“You have aye?” He asked, flicking the ash from his cigarette. Her voice bringing him out of his thoughts a bit.

“Yeah. I’d like to try it out, if you’d still want me there. I don’t know what a ballerina could offer the company but, it beats where I was.” She said, cringing internally at all the painful memories which unfortunately often overshadowed the good ones.

“I’ve seen you work hard so far, so I figured making you my assistant would be a good position. You’ll come in at 8, and leave by 6 on most days.” He said.

“Most days? What happens on the other days?” She asked.

“On those days you keep busy so you don’t think about how or if we’ll return. You’ll help keep the shop in line along with my aunt Polly until one of us walks through the door. For your safety.” He said.

“Do all the assistants and secretaries work that late?” She asked.

“Only on those nights they do.” He said.

“Alright. May I ask one question?” She said.

“Mhmm.” He mumbled, blowing smoke from his lips. He stared at her while she thought over her words, her eyes not as miserable as before.

It made him feel better knowing that even though he couldn’t save the men in the trenches, he could at least save her. Someone who shared their same eyes, their same exhaustion, their same fear of not knowing what was next.

“Why me? You could hire anyone else. Any other woman for that matter. But you chose me...” She said, putting her cigarette out on the damp dirt road.

Thomas sighed for a moment, not wanting to tell her he couldn’t help but fall for a beautiful woman even though they’d just met. No matter her profession, he didn’t expect a ballet dancer to steal his heart so quickly and effortlessly.

“I could see you were different.” He said.

“How so?” She asked, his answer not enough as she looked into his eyes. They were like looking into the ocean, threatening to pull her under.

“When I came in after doing some business and saw you there practicing, you intrigued me. You were dancing with no music, but still trying no matter what happened.” He said.

“You saw me fall aye?” She said with a chuckle.

“Yeah, but I also saw what you did after....It’s always about what someone does after the fall, that makes a person who they are. I guess I chose you because you didn’t give up.” He said.

“And I thought it was because I was wearing a pretty pink ballet costume.” She said, smirking.

“That might also be a reason.” He said with a smirk. After a long pause, he spoke again, this time more quietly.

“For the record Y/N, I truly don’t see why the others treated you like they did....But I won’t hurt you. I promise.” He said.

“A man like you making promises? That’s a bold move.” She said, her heart racing as she held his hand gently, nervous to touch someone in a way that wasn’t done in self defense.

“I’m a bold man.” He said, squeezing her hand reassuringly.

“Oh really?” She said with a smirk.

“I can show you.” He said, leaning towards her as she did the same. She couldn’t help but feel differently towards him. He didn’t make her feel scared or on-edge like so many people before her. Instead oddly enough, the dashing blinder made her feel safe.

It was in that moment that he too realized he hadn’t felt this way in a while, since before the war. The only comfort he’d ever found previously was at the bottom of a bottle or beneath the sheets in a brothel. The feelings felt out of place, the noise from the war competing with the song in his head, the same one from her shows. The same one from years ago at home.

With a calloused hand, he caressed her cheek, looking into her as eyes as the sun shined into them. Their color illuminated by its rays as he brought her lips to his, a wave of relief washing over him as he felt her relax into the kiss instead of pulling away.

“So...when do I start?” She asked after he broke the kiss, her eyes trailing to his lips.

“Tomorrow. I can pick you up.” He said.

“Won’t you be tired from burying Mr. Timmons? I can drive myself.” She said.

“It’s not my first time burying someone love. I’ll swing by in the morning.” He said, getting up.

“Alright...see you then.” She said, a genuine grin forming on her face for what felt like the first time in years as she watched him head off towards his car.

Over the next few weeks, she became acquainted with everyone in the shop. Polly taking a special liking to her as she loved dancing as well.

“You’ll never catch me dancing ballet. Maybe a waltz but never ballet.” She said one morning.

“I can teach you, it’ll do you some good. Keep you strong.” Y/N said, thinking about how she’d get by with teaching in her cramped apartment.

“Tommy taking classes from you yet?” She asked with a smirk.

“God no. I think he only said that to get me working for him.” She said, thinking back to his first deal with her.

“What are you two talking about aye? We have work to do.” Tommy said, walking into his office where they sat in his chairs nonchalantly.

“Pol was just asking me if I’d taught you to dance yet. You did say you used to...but there would be no ballet of course.” She said, smirking at him as she blew smoke from her lips.

“Well, I have business at the races soon so I guess you’ll have to teach me. Especially since I’ll need someone to accompany me.” He said.

“I never thought you’d ask. What shall I wear?” She asked.

“Something red.” He said, giving her a peck on the cheek before heading out the door.

Their banter carried on like this months after her employment. The only thing different though was where she stayed. Everyone knew he’d had the hots for the woman as soon as he laid eyes on her in the theater. John joking that going to London was the best decision Tommy had ever made. Seeing as she helped him find himself again even if it was just in simple ways. From the nights spent keeping the sounds of the shovels at bay, to the weekends spent helping him learn a few dances. They both healed each other with each step. He never thought he would enjoy dancing or even something as simple as sleeping ever again, but she helped him and he helped her, and he felt the only way to pay her back was to help her still live out her dreams. Eventually converting one of their many rooms into a dance studio, where she’d help teach children on the side, without mean words and harsh fists beating her down.

By this time, she finally knew what she was dancing for, or more so who. And it pleased Thomas to see the life finally return to her eyes as she did so. Knowing that one of the best decisions she made was to dance for herself. Even if it didn’t garner any grand applause, she knew she had people who cared, and who saw the value in what she did, considering it was her gift to the world after all. Even if it was the gangly Shelby family as her audience, she knew it was better than any theater.

Thomas Shelby Tag List:

@msbzowy, @nofckingfighting, @aranoburns, @sighonahurricane, @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes, @gaytommyshelby, @wowjeena, @fifty-shadesof-tommyshelby, @inglourious-imagines, @thebloodyshelbys, @tsolomons, @blinder-secrets, @reveparade, @shelby-fanatic, @ta-ka-shi-ma, @psychkunox, @peakyxtommy, @captivatedbycillianmurphy,@dreamwastakenx,

@lovemissyhoneybee @thomashelbyswhore​, @xxbeckybeexx-blog​

If you’d like to be added or removed, just send an ask/message! :)

[tessisawriter]

Invisible String, Part 1 (Colton Parayko)

Request: Can you write an imagine where the reader is John Krasinski’s [niece] but she’s dating Colton Parayko and like she has to breaks the news and John acts mad or something and scares them but then he says he’s joking and he’s fine with it? Thanks

***NOTE***: I changed some details in the last scene b/c I moved the timeline up from October 7 to September 14.

A/N: I’m back! The protagonist is an OC but I decided to call her Y/N instead of giving her an actual name b/c John Krasinski has nieces and/or nephews irl. I already planned the entire plot but idk whether the series will be 2 or 3 parts—I’ll post an update when I know more. This series takes place from March 2018 to June 2019 and is loosely based on Taylor Swift’s “Invisible String.” Here is the playlist.

Warnings: Six swear words, rough breakup, alcohol, loneliness & homesickness

Word Count: 3.4k

March 21, 2018

You were impervious to the mix of pitying and derisive glances from passersby as you sat on the curb. You knew you looked like a cliché, crying in front of a restaurant because your boyfriend broke up with you on your 22nd birthday, but you didn’t care. One question gnawed at you: how had six words upended your seemingly perfect day and relationship?

Your brain was buzzing with activity, wondering if Max had given you any clues that something was amiss. This morning, you woke up in his Cambridge apartment to him singing “Happy Birthday” while kneeling at the side of the bed. As soon as Max finished singing, he kissed you before grabbing his backpack and hurrying out of the room. That didn’t mean anything, though: Max was one of the only seniors to have the misfortune of taking all morning classes because his major was Theater, Dance, and Media. He was also (as usual) running late.

The rest of the day unfolded like any other Wednesday as you followed your schedule of lounging in bed, studying for an hour, going to the sandwich shop across the street for lunch, and heading to campus at 1PM for your classes. Afterwards, you went back to the apartment to find Max waiting there, already dressed for dinner. You quickly showered, curled your long (Y/HC) hair, and changed into a dark green dress and black booties before taking his hand and going to an Italian restaurant in Boston’s North End.

There were no warning signs at dinner, either. In fact, everything was perfect until you were waiting for the check and Max said with a detached look in his eyes, “I think we should break up.”

You didn’t want to relive what happened next, but the images of you acting like Elle Woods when Warner broke up with her in Legally Blonde popped into your head unbidden. You closed your eyes in humiliation and shame as you remembered Max, the man you dated for three years, abandoning you at the table and fleeing the restaurant. The other customers stared at you, some sympathetic, others scandalized, and the rest in pure shock.

You snapped out of the flashback when you felt a large hand rest on your shoulder. You whipped your head around to find a young man with blonde hair and black rimmed glasses squatting next to you on the curb.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

The panic faded as you took in the man’s features. He was definitely in his 20s, probably a few years older than you, and his blue eyes were filled with concern. Something about that concern, though, made you snap.

“Do I look like I’m okay? I mean, come on, look at me!” you demanded while pointing at your face, which you (correctly) assumed had giant black streaks of mascara on it.

You fully expected the man to walk away and leave you be, but he sat down on the curb instead and said, “My bad, that was a stupid question. I’ve got some tissues if you want them?”

That made your attitude soften. He was only trying to help, so you nodded and he handed you a pack of tissues from his pocket. You smiled at him, took the tissues, and wiped your eyes and face. As soon as you were satisfied that they were clean, you broke the silence. “Thank you…?”

“Colton, and it’s no problem. What’s your name?”

“Y/N.” You held out your hand for him to shake, which he did. After a pause, you asked: “Why did you stop? Surely you have somewhere better to be tonight.”

He chuckled, and the sound of it made your heart flutter. “I was just heading back to my hotel when I saw you, and I figured I’d stop and make sure you get home safe. That is, assuming you live here?”

“Yeah, I live in Cambridge.” As soon as the words left your mouth, you realized they were no longer true, so you amended your statement. “Well, I lived in Cambridge until about 15 minutes ago when my now ex-boyfriend dumped me. On my fucking birthday.”

“Shit, that sucks. I’m really sorry.” He paused before adding, “I’m assuming he isn’t here.”

“Nope. He hightailed it out of the restaurant as soon as he got his credit card back.”

Colton shook his head. “What a jackass.”

“I know, right? I wasted three whole years with someone who not only broke up with me in a very public setting on my birthday, but also couldn’t be bothered to ask where I would go! He probably assumed I’d go to my parents’ house, but still.”

“Your parents live here?” Colton asked as he fished his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it.

“Yeah, right by Boston Common, why?”

“I’ll get an Uber and drop you off before going back to the hotel.”

“Oh no, you don’t have to do that,” you protested while going through your bag for your phone. “We just met! I’ll pay.”

“Nonsense. You’ve been through a lot tonight. Let me take care of it.”

You stared into Colton’s eyes and realized he wasn’t going to back down. It took everything in you to suppress your pride, thank him, and provide the address. Colton typed it into his phone, waited for a moment, and said, “The closest one is around the block.”

“That’s good.” Your burst of energy dissipated as quickly as it came, and you fell silent. From the corner of your eye, you saw Colton open his mouth as if to say something before the headlights of a car momentarily blinded you.

“That’s the Uber.” Colton stood up and offered his hand, and you took it. You couldn’t help but notice how well they fit together as he pulled you up and off the curb, but after regaining your balance, something else grabbed your attention: his height.

“Gee, how tall are you? No one’s ever made me feel like a dwarf before,” you joked as he led you to the car, your hands still intertwined.

He chuckled and opened the door for you. You let go of his hand and slid into the car. After Colton slid in next to you and shut the door, he replied, “I’m 6’6” and no one’s ever made me feel like I’m not a giant before. You’re what, 5’10”?”

“6 feet, actually,” you corrected him. “So, where are you from, Colton?”

“St. Albert; it’s just outside Edmonton in Canada, but I’ve been in the States for a while. I went to the University of Alaska in Fairbanks before moving to, uh, St. Louis.”

You noticed Colton’s hesitancy and the fact that he lowered his voice when saying “St. Louis,” and you were about to ask why when you thought better of it. You were protective of your privacy, too, especially whenever people commented about how funny it was that you shared the same last name as John Krasinski. It wasn’t a coincidence—he was your uncle, and the two of you were extremely close—but you went along with it and never corrected them because it wasn’t their business. So, you let it go. “And what brings you to Boston?”

“Work,” he said before changing the subject. “What do you do? Are you still in school or—”

“I’m a senior at Harvard,” you cut him off. You generally didn’t drop the “H-bomb,” as you and your friends called it, with people you didn’t know well, but this was a special case. Colton just confirmed he was hiding something, and after looking at him in better lighting, his face seemed familiar, which weirded you out. You had to get back on equal footing, and the H-bomb almost always unsettled people.

“Wow, you must be really smart,” Colton said, seeming impressed but unphased. You couldn’t help yourself from raising an eyebrow as he asked, “What’s your major?”

“Government. What was yours?”

“Business administration.”

“Ah.” You fell silent again, this time on purpose, as you racked your brain for where you might have crossed paths with Colton. He wasn’t from Boston, not even close, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d seen him before, and recently.

Colton didn’t let you ruminate for long before reviving the conversation. “What do you want to do when you graduate?”

“I’ll be a lawyer one day, but I have to be a paralegal first. I’m looking for jobs right now.”

Before Colton could reply, the car came to a stop. You looked out the window and saw your parents’ townhouse and your childhood home.Your time in the car had flown by, a sensation you rarely, if ever, experienced. And there was something between you and Colton, a connection you couldn’t quite describe, that made you want to spend more time with him. But your time was up. “This is me. It was nice to meet you, Colton, and thanks again for the ride—I really appreciate it.”

“It’s no problem,” he replied. “I’m glad I found you.”

You were overwhelmed by an intense desire to ask for his number. If only he lived in Boston or somewhere in the Northeast. But he lived in St. Louis, so you moved to open the door, only to feel Colton’s hand wrap around yours and hear him say: “Y/N?”

“Yeah?” You turned around and locked eyes with him. It was like being in a trance, and your heartbeat thundered in your ears.

It felt like years, but it was more like a few moments before Colton let go of your hand. “Good luck with the search. I’m sure you’ll find a good job.”

You wanted to let out a sigh of disappointment, but you just said, “Thanks,” and smiled at him before getting out of the car.

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

The smell of bacon finally lured you out of your bed at noon the next day.

It had been a rough night. The reality of the breakup hit you like a ton of bricks when you rang the doorbell and all but collapsed in your mom’s arms when she answered the door. She brought you over to the couch, where your dad was waiting anxiously. As soon as you sat down, you grabbed your mom and cried for an hour straight as she held you and stroked your hair. You knew Max wasn’t worth your tears, but it had more to do with you. Despite his major, he wasn’t that good of an actor, and yet, he fooled you into thinking he could be your person. You took immense pride in your instincts, but they failed you with Max. How could you have possibly fallen in love with such a heartless person? More terrifying, would you have ended up marrying him a few years down the road if he hadn’t broken up with you?

You didn’t know the answer to either question, so you stopped crying and began venting about how the breakup went down. Your dad almost hit the ceiling after hearing that Max left you at the restaurant, and you had to talk him out of driving to Cambridge to “give that little shit a piece of my mind!” That wasn’t to say you weren’t thinking about revenge, but your dad potentially getting arrested was not helpful. After that, you started crying again, only this time out of frustration, and didn’t stop until you practically passed out on the couch. The last thing you remembered was your parents guiding you up the stairs to your bed.

Thankfully, you had no classes on Thursdays, so you were able to sleep in and be, if nothing else, well-rested. Your stomach rumbled when you smelled the bacon, so you got out of bed and made your way down the stairs to the kitchen, where your parents were sitting at the table and watching the television.

“Ugh, why are you watching the news?” you said as a way of greeting while making a beeline for the bacon.

“Good morning to you, too, sweetheart,” your dad replied. “I’m waiting for the sports report. I missed the game last night and Uncle John wouldn’t tell me the score. He said he’s sorry about, I quote, ‘the scumbag’ and he’ll call you tonight.”

“God, I miss him. And you,” you addressed your mom as you shoveled a load of bacon onto your plate, “are the best.”

“See, honey? I knew bacon would cheer her up,” she said to your dad.

“I didn’t doubt it. Y/N, we have to figure out a time to get your stuff from that piece of shit’s apartment. I’m not letting you go by yourself, but do you want to let him know ahead of time or just show up?”

“Who did the B’s play?” you sat down at the table and changed the subject immediately. You didn’t care about sports, but your dad and Uncle John were major Bruins fans and the mere mention of Max gave you a headache.

“The Blues.”

“Where do they play again?” you asked as you ate your bacon. It had to be a team from the Western Conference, but the only teams you knew there were the Canucks and Blackhawks because they were on your dad’s shit list.

“St. Louis.”

You almost choked on your food. “What?”

“St. Louis, sweetie. You know, the Gateway Arch—”

“Yeah, I know, Mom,” you recovered. “That’s the team Jenna likes, right, Dad?”

“Yes. Shh, here it is!” He didn’t need to tell you twice; you doubted Colton was a professional hockey player, but your curiosity won out as you intently watched the television.

The score flashed on the screen—an OT loss for the Bruins—and your dad groaned. “Ugh, I’ve got to turn this garbage off.”

And suddenly, a few Blues players, including one that looked awfully similar to Colton (albeit without glasses), flashed onto the screen. You didn’t get a good enough look at him to be sure, though, because your dad changed the channel. You let out a noise of frustration.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” your mom asked, and your dad looked like he had the same question when he turned away from the television.

“I’ll text the scumbag and tell him I’m coming this afternoon, if that’s okay with you, Dad,” you said. “I want to get it over with and besides, I need my laptop and textbooks.”

“That’s perfect, sweetheart. The office doesn’t need me today, anyway.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back; my phone’s upstairs,” you called out behind you as you raced back up the stairs. You did not want to text Max, but it was better than telling your dad that the man he praised for making sure you got home last night was potentially part of the team responsible for his beloved Bruins’ loss.

You locked your bedroom door and grabbed your phone to pull up Google and the St. Louis Blues roster. Part of you thought there was no way a professional hockey player actually cared enough to bring you home, but the Blues being in town and one of its members resembling Colton were too many coincidences for your liking. You tapped your foot impatiently as the phone loaded the roster, and you scrolled through the list until you found a name of interest.

“C. Parayko, 55, R, 6’6’’…”

It cut off after that, so you scrolled sideways to see the other information. It left you without a shadow of doubt, but you clicked on the name anyway to view a picture. Colton’s headshot and full first name stared back at you as if they were looking into your soul.

It really was him. You had to have seen him on the little television at the sandwich shop’s register yesterday.

But what did this information mean for you, really, besides discovering his identity? It was nice to know his full name because it confirmed that he was a real person instead of a delusion your reeling mind made up, but it didn’t change one important fact: you lived in Boston and he lived in St. Louis. Barring a radical change in one of your lives, which you didn’t see happening, that was the reality of the situation. It was time to stop dreaming and confront your immediate future.

You pulled up Max’s number and began composing the text which, after several drafts, read: “I’ll be at the apartment today from 3 to 5. My dad’s coming with me, so make yourself scarce. I want my shit back.”

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

6 months later: September 14, 2018

You were miserable only two weeks after relocating to St. Louis.

It was funny how one phone call could completely change someone’s life. In your case, said phone call involved an extremely attractive job offer with a clear path for advancement within one year. The offers you had received from legal firms in Boston, New York, D.C., and Philadelphia were underwhelming, to say the least, and you were only a week away from graduation. You had already endured a lot of change this year, so why not one more?

After nearly giving your parents a heart attack but ultimately receiving their blessing, you accepted the offer and moved to St. Louis on September 1st. Uncle John had been especially supportive, enlisting Jenna (known by the rest of the world as Pam from The Office) to fly out from L.A. and show you around the city last week. She made sure you knew the ins and outs of the city, which you really appreciated. You also loved your job. You were doing important work every day, and your boss was already hinting at giving you the promotion you wanted. 

So, why were you unhappy? It was your social life, or rather, lack of one. You didn’t know anyone in St. Louis, and while your coworkers weren’t mean, they didn’t make you feel welcome, either.

That seemed to have changed earlier today when two of your desk neighbors who were around your age, Harper and Ellie, invited you out for drinks after work. You couldn’t have been happier. You went home after work, did your hair and makeup, put on your favorite royal blue mini dress, and met them at the dive bar you recommended. You were so excited on the way over that you could barely sit still; maybe you’d make friends with these girls and finally feel like you fit in in this city.

Unfortunately, that didn’t happen. Harper and Ellie abandoned you within less than five minutes after two guys came over and asked them to dance. You were now sitting at the bar alone, nursing a cocktail and despairing over your situation.

It was times like these when you thought about Colton. It had been six months since you’d met him in Boston, and you didn’t want to risk looking like a lunatic by slipping into his DMs on Instagram, but you were getting desperate. It was bad enough that being from the Northeast made you stick out like a sore thumb, but the loneliness was eating you alive, and the combination made you feel unmoored. Maybe a familiar and friendly face could change that.

As if God had answered your prayers, you heard a commotion near the entrance. You swiveled your stool in that direction and saw a group of tall, good-looking men in their 20s entering the bar. The tallest one had blonde hair and black rimmed glasses.

It was Colton.

Your brain screamed at you to look away and approach him after he settled in, but you couldn’t take your eyes off of him as he laughed at something one of his friends said. It was as if he felt your stare because he suddenly looked in your direction and appeared to gasp.

It was only then that you turned away and faced the bar, drinking the rest of your cocktail in a few gulps. You were so embarrassed; he probably thought you were a stalker or something. You were about to flag down the bartender for another drink when you felt that familiar large hand rest on your shoulder.

You turned your head and found Colton staring at you, his blue eyes full of incredulity and…happiness?

“Y/N. It’s really you,” he breathed.

[crystalstar8]

Knights of the Night (ch 14)

Chapter 14

Ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4, ch 5, ch 6, ch 7, ch 8, ch 9, ch 10, ch 11, ch 12, ch 13, ch 14

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139240/chapters/71536491

pairing: Jungkook x oc

genre: vampire au, college au, twilight, romance

word count: 

warnings: blood (obviously), kidnapping, child kidnapping, needles, France

notes: vampires, vampire au, college, college au, so many twilight references, blood, needles, kidnapping, children, homelessness, dance, ballet, flashbacks, romance, slow burn, probably no smut, idk yet tho, France, French things, attempted genocide, inaccurate French history, bisexual main character, @strawberriewithchocolate-blog @mozy-j  @daechwitad-2​ @zobadak​​

summary: Catalina starts college in a small town all the way across the country. She doesn’t know anyone and isn’t exactly looking for friends. She just wants to focus on dance. But when she meets fellow dance major, Jimin, and adventurous, fellow freshman, Jungkook, Catalina ends up discovering a whole new side to the small college town; one that is dangerous but oh so enticing…

(smut is alluded to in this chapter, so I apologize to any family members who may be reading this👀)

              Once everyone had arrived at the mansion, Taehyung called them all into the dining room, where he had laid out a beautiful Christmas feast. There was a beef roast on one end and a ham on the other end. Between the two were potatoes, greens, fresh bread, fruit garnishes and jams, and an assortment of other sides.

              “Tae tae! You really outdid yourself today!” Hoseok exclaimed as he pulled a chair out for his mother. His mother was in her seventies, a tiny and soft-spoken woman. Hoseok’s sister sat beside their mother. Catalina was only briefly introduced to them, only to learn their names and thank his mother for the necklace, so she made sure to sit across from them. Jungkook took the seat beside her.

              “I want to ask them if they know anything about Hobi’s past,” Catalina whispered to him. He nodded.

              “That’s a good idea,” said Jungkook. “He’s always been a bit suspicious to me. I mean, we’re surrounded by these ancient vampires who had no problems telling us about all the people they’ve killed in the past, but I’m honestly most worried about him. If Yoongi could tell his story, why can’t Hoseok?”

              “Exactly,” said Catalina. “That’s what I was thinking.”

              Once everyone was settled at the table and most of the dishes had made the rounds, Catalina looked over at Hoseok’s sister, whose name was Jiwoo, she remembered.

             “So, I heard Hoseok’s been telling you two about us,” said Catalina. “I hope all good things.”

              “Of course, all good things!” Jiwoo laughed. “He’s been gushing about his new friends non-stop. Every time he visits, he tells us about some new adventure. He said you and Jimin are really good dancers.”

              “We’re really good at ballet,” said Catalina. “But Hoseok tried to teach us his style and we kind of sucked.”

              “I’m sure he didn’t fare any better in ballet,” Jiwoo said.

              “Not really,” Catalina said with a wide smile. Then she leaned in and lowered her voice. “So, I’m curious. How much has Hoseok told you about how he was turned?”

              Jiwoo pressed her lips into a thin line, then said, “Honestly, not much. I know the entire experience took a huge toll on him and he had to drop out of college because of it. We’ve asked him about it many times, but he never seems to want to talk about. I think it’s painful for him to bring up the memory.”

              “Oh,” Catalina looked over at Hoseok, who was laughing hysterically at a story Jimin was telling. She tried to imagine what he went through that made him so unwilling to share his story.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

After dinner, the party retired to the ballroom, which definitely was a room Catalina didn’t know existed until now. She wondered how big this house actually was. She dreamed of just wandering around and exploring one day. Yoongi was sat at the grand piano at the end of the ballroom and began playing. Catalina knew he didn’t eat at dinner, she wondered if he was just waiting to come in here and play piano.

The ballroom wasn’t huge; it was the perfect size for a party like this. Crystal chandeliers lit the room and the music filled the air. Namjoon, his professor friend, Jiwoo, Jimmy K and Jin sat at the lounge in the corner of the room to chat, Jimin pulled a giggling Taehyung onto the dancefloor to dance, and Hoseok pulled his mother onto the floor to dance.

“May I?”

Catalina turned around. Jungkook was holding out his hand, a smile on his face. Catalina grinned and took his hand. He led her out to the dance floor and took her waist, pulling her closer.

Even after two dates and several weeks of officially dating, Jungkook still managed to make her blush when he held her close like this.

“I love this dress on you,” he said as they swayed to the music.

“Thank you,” said Catalina. “I had some inside information on you when I bought this. I heard you have a thing for red.”

“I do,” he said as he led her into a spin. “Did Jimin tell you?”

Catalina nodded and leaned in close to whisper in his ear.

“Just wait until you see what I’m wearing underneath.”

She heard his breath catch before he pulled her even closer. They glided across the floor, turning and swaying to the beat. When the song ended, Catalina felt a tap on her shoulder.

“Mind if I cut in?” Jimmy K asked Jungkook.

“I did promise to save him a dance,” said Catalina. She knew Jungkook wasn’t the jealous type, so she wasn’t surprised when he laughed and said, “Sure, why not?”

Jungkook left with a smile and a lingering hand on her bare back. Jimmy K swept her into a waltz as the next song began. She watched Jungkook take a seat by Namjoon, eyeing her with a dreamy smile on his face.

“You’ve got that boy completely wrapped around your finger,” said Jimmy K. Catalina giggled.

“I know,” she said. “Well, he’s got me too.”

“I can see that,” said Jimmy K. “I saw the little gift you left on his neck.”

Catalina laughed loudly at that and said, “You know what he said to me? He said, ‘you should get a collar for me next time’.”

Jimmy K raised an eyebrow and said, “Oh, that would make things interesting.”

“Certainly,” said Catalina. “I have my work cut out for me.”

“You can handle it,” said Jimmy K. “You’re a very capable woman.”

“Jimmy K, if you keep flirting with me all the time, you’re going to turn Jungkook into a jealous mess,” said Catalina. Jimmy K chuckled.

“I can’t help it,” he said. “I just have a flirty personality I guess. But I will stop if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“I just find it flattering,” said Catalina. “You’d have to ask Jungkook about it.”

“I saw you interrogating Hoseok’s sister at dinner,” he said, changing the subject abruptly. “I’m assuming you were trying to get some information on that suspicious bugger.”

“Yeah, ‘trying’ being the key word there,” Catalina said with a sigh. Jimmy K lifted his arm to spin her, then led her into a gliding sidestep and turn. “She barely knew more than we do. The most useful thing she told me was that the experience was supposedly very difficult for him and its painful for him to talk about.”

“Well, he could have just said that,” said Jimmy K. “Here I was thinking he was some kind of spy or he had some kind of murderous backstory.”

“Yeah, same here,” said Catalina. “It still doesn’t answer any questions, but at least it takes a little bit of suspicion off of him.”

“Well, if he ever goes off the rails and takes a nasty turn on you all, just give me a call,” said Jimmy K.

“What, are you some kind of vampire slayer?” asked Catalina, letting him drop her into a dip. “Why do you know so much about vampires and their history and stuff?”

Jimmy K winked and said, “That’s for me to know, darling, and you to find out.”

Catalina smirked and rolled her eyes.

“Ah, the mysterious, ruggedly handsome Jimmy K,” Catalina said, pretending to swoon.

“That’s right,” Jimmy K said with a smirk.

As the song ended, Catalina and Jimmy K parted ways. Catalina joined Jungkook at the lounge, sitting on the armrest of his chair. She draped her arm over his shoulder and gazed down at him. He was listening to Namjoon and Dr. Carlisle talk, but looked up at Catalina when she sat.

“What are you guys talking about?” she asked. Jungkook just smiled up at her and shrugged.

“I don’t really know,” he said. “Something scientific. How was your dance?”

“Heh, let me tell you, Jimmy K is a very mysterious individual,” she said, then leaned down to whisper in his ear. “I’ll tell you what he said later.”

“Please Yoongi-hyung! Do it for me!” Taehyung’s voice caught their attention across the ballroom. He was sitting on the piano bench beside Yoongi, begging him with big eyes and interlocked fingers. Yoongi seemed to let out a deep sigh, as his shoulders continued to sink for several seconds. That seemed to satisfy Taehyung, whose face lit up. He leapt from the bench and went to the wall where he adjusted the lighting to be a bit dimmer. Jimin watched all of this from the center of the dance floor as everyone else cleared away, retreating to the lounge.

Catalina’s eyebrows rose as Taehyung laid across the top of the grand piano. Yoongi began playing and Catalina recognized the tune immediately. To her surprise, Taehyung’s singing voice somehow fit the song beautifully, serenading an overly dramatic version of “A Thousand Miles”. Jimin doubled over laughing as Taehyung serenaded him, sliding off the piano and miming holding a microphone as he approached. Taehyung grabbed Jimin’s hands and led him into a dance as best he could with Jimin laughing so hard, face beet red. Taehyung’s smooth voice led the dramatic, slightly silly performance through the rest of the song. Once it ended, everyone stood up and applauded, Taehyung taking his bows. Jimin stood beside him, covering his face and still giggling.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dr. Carlisle left, along with Jin, Jimmy K, and Hoseok’s sister and mother. Catalina didn’t let them leave without trying to return the necklace, but she told her to hold onto it until next time. After thanking her profusely and watching them all out the door, the group went to one of the bigger lounges. Taehyung served coffee and tea and Hoseok and Namjoon brought in gifts – two thick envelopes decorated with bows.

“You guys didn’t have to get anything!” Jimin exclaimed.

“It’s nothing big,” said Namjoon. “Just tokens really. We haven’t had many friends outside of this house in a long time.”

“But we don’t have anything for you guys,” said Jungkook.

“You guys are broke college students!” Hoseok said. “Save your money!”

They laughed and finally let Namjoon hand a big envelope to Catalina.

“This is kind of from all of us,” he said. “It’s for you and Jungkook.”

Catalina opened the envelope and pulled out several things. A packet of paper depicted pictures of a beautiful forest in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, with waterfalls and trails. It advertised a beautiful cabin, rustic and modern. After reading the front page, she realized what it was.

“Reservations?” she said. “What is this?”

“Look what else is in there,” said Namjoon.

There were two other slips of paper behind the packet. Round trip plane tickets. To Detroit, Michigan. For the week of Christmas. Catalina’s jaw dropped. Jungkook took the packet from her and flipped through it with wide eyes.

“Namjoon, this is too much,” Catalina said.

“Well, it’s from all of us,” said Hoseok. “But it was mostly his idea.”

“The reservation is for the week after Christmas,” said Jungkook.

“So you can spend the first week with your mom,” said Namjoon.

“Oooh! That’s why you asked me if I was spending the holiday with my family,” Jungkook exclaimed.

“You’re not?” Catalina asked. Jungkook shook his head.

“I mean, my brother is coming home and we’re having dinner with my parents a few days before Christmas,” he said. “Which you’re invited to, if you want. I know we’ve only been dating for a short time but…”

“I’d love to go,” she said. “We’ve known each other for a while now and I’ve only seen your parents in passing. I haven’t even met your brother at all.”

“And then it looks like the day after our dinner, we would leave for this,” said Jungkook.

“Namjoon, all of you, thank you so much,” said Catalina. “This is so generous.”

“Yeah, this is really awesome,” said Jungkook. “Thank you.”

“It’s really no problem,” said Namjoon.

Taehyung then handed the other envelope to Jimin and said, “Open mine next, Jiminie.”

Jimin opened the envelope and gasped.

“It’s not until summer, and I understand if you don’t want to, because I know you’re wary around us, as you should be, but I’ve always wanted to try camping and I hear it’s really pretty there…”

“Taehyungie,” Jimin interrupted. His eyes were glittering with tears. “I would love to go with you. This looks beautiful.”

“Really?” Taehyung said. “You’re not afraid to travel with me?”

Jimin shook his head and stood up to hug Taehyung tight. “My lovely Taehyungie. I could never be afraid of you.”

When they broke apart, both of them wiping their eyes, Jimin sat back down and said, “Can’t say the same for the rest of you. Jungkook, Cat, I’m talking about you too.”

Everyone laughed and Jimin said, “Haha, yeah laugh it up. You guys are insane. Sneaking into a vampire den without telling anyone. The fact that you made it out alive is an honest to God miracle.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After cleaning up the party, Taehyung invited the three humans to stay the night if they wanted to, since it was already past midnight. Catalina and Jungkook explored a bit before choosing a guest room on the third floor, far away from everyone else. When Jimin asked them where their room was, Jungkook threw him an exaggerated wink and nothing else. Jimin had almost fallen over laughing.

Their room was big and dark. Thick blackout curtains covered the huge window against the right wall. The four-poster bed looked antique, with twisting posts and sheer curtains around it. The thick carpet was a relief under Catalina’s feet once she took off her heels.

“What did you and Jimmy K talk about?” Jungkook asked as he toed off his own shoes.

“Oh right. He asked about my conversation with Jiwoo,” said Catalina. “I told him what she said, and then Jimmy K insinuated that he may be some kind of vampire slayer.”

Jungkook’s eyebrows shot up. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, he said something like, ‘If Hoseok ever hurts anyone, just give me a call’,” said Catalina.

“That’s so mysterious,” said Jungkook. “He knew about Alexandria the Annihilator too, which means he’s more familiar with vampire history than any of us.”

“Exactly,” said Catalina.

“Hm… well, we don’t have to talk about Jimmy K anymore,” Jungkook said, sidling closer to Catalina. “Thinking about what you’re wearing under this has been keeping me distracted all night.”

~ ~ ~ ~

The next morning, Catalina woke up before him. She went to the big window and opened the curtains, letting the sunlight stream into the room. The golden rays fell across the bed, bathing Jungkook in the morning light. Catalina admired her work from where she was standing; hickeys decorated his neck, chest, and thighs, and lipstick still stained his skin. His hair was tousled and his face was peaceful. Gorgeous. He was absolutely beautiful. Catalina couldn’t believe how lucky she was.

He said he loves me, Catalina thought with a dopey smile on her face, recalling the way he mumbled it into her skin last night, half asleep. I love this boy. So much.

[brattywriters-anonymous]

Shoot Your Shot

I found this meme and it screamed Cray Cray Erik so I chose to try my hand at this lol

Erik Stevens x Kesia (pronounced Kee-sa) Mannor (OC)

“Baaabe you know I gotta find a new outfit for my promotion party! I must’ve looked in my closet a million times and I couldn’t find anything!” Kesia was on facetime with her boyfriend of six months, Erik Stevens. When they first got together, she didn’t know much about him, except for he was in the Navy for six years before getting out and whilst enlisted he got his bachelors and master  degrees in Engineering. He kept information about himself simple with Kesia.

“Girl, you look amazing in whatever you wear! Why you gotta go up to that mall? You know that’s where all them thirsty ass niggas be at.” Erik protests. Kesia rolls her eyes, “Aye! What I tell you about rolling your eyes at me?!” Erik’s face goes stoic. It sends a chill down Kesia’s spine as she immediately responds, “Don’t do it.” He nods, “Exactly.” “I’ll only be gone for an hour, I’ll be back at my house and you can see me try it on!” “You got 59 minutes, babygirl. Make em count!”

--

Kesia puts the finishing touches on her makeup as Erik admires her from her bed, “Damn baby, you sure we can’t just celebrate in the crib tonight? I’d make it worth skipping your party...” He saunters over to her and attempts wraps himself around her from the back, she slivers out of his grasp, walking to the kitchen, “Mmm mm! I worked my ass off for this gig, I’m celebrating with my people, and my baaaabyy.. We can do all of that when we’re drunk and back here!” Erik curses under his breath and accepts defeat. Just as he was about to sit back down on Kesia’s bed, her phone rings. It’s an unknown Oakland number. Erik knows everything about Kesia so he knows she doesn’t leave numbers unsaved. He yells towards the kitchen, “Keeee! Who’s calling you from this unknown number?!” 

Kesia freezes in her tracks, “Uhhh.. idk baby. Maybe a telemarketer.” Erik twists his lip, “Hmph.” His “spidey senses” as Kesia loved to put it, were tingling. He always knew when something wasn’t right.. She blames it on his deployments and overall lack of trust in people. He accepts the incoming call.

“Yeee, ay wassup shorty! This Dontay, dude from the mall earlier! Sorry it took me a few to call you, I had a few errands to run. But you free tonight?” Kesia scurries into her room once she hears the stranger’s voice. Erik shakes his head at her and hangs up the phone. “I told you about them thirsty ass niggas at the mall!”

DING! DING!

Her phone lights up as an incoming text pops up from the unsaved contact, Kesia reaches toward Erik for her phone, he raises it above his head and out of her reach, “Nah. You need not worry about this phone tonight. Finish getting dressed.” She pouts as she sits down to put her heels on.

--

Kesia has been entertaining all of her loved ones since she arrived at her promotion party Erik put together for her at a new Reggae club in downtown Oakland called New Karibbean City. Erik has purposefully been apart from her the entire time, yet he has her phone on lock. It doesn’t help that his face unlocks it as well. Kesia has seen enough of him typing away on her phone so she sneaks away from the party as she sees him heading to the restrooms.

“E!” He turns around, “Ke?” He responds in the same tone as her, “Can I have my phone back?” He looks up in the air as if he’s thinking about it, then he hands it to her from his pants pocket. She unlocks it and doesn’t see a trace of the unknown number. Not in the call history or text messages. She raises her eyebrow, “Erik Stevens.. What did you do?” he shrugs, “I didn’t do anything” He embraces his girlfriend as he congratulates her, “I’m proud of you Ke. You really did work hard for the promotion. I’ll see you when you get to the house. The key still under that plant on the porch?” Kesia looks confused, “Uh.. yeah. Where are you going?” Erik lets out a deep, yet scary laugh, “The less you know..” He gives her a long, deep kiss on her red stained lips, then leaves out the back door.

--

Kesia gets out of her Uber, stumbling to her door. She struggles to unlock her door and get in her dark house, thinking her boyfriend is already sleeping. “Good, I don’t gotta get yelled at tonight. I was NOT tryna hear--” “Hear what, princess?” Erik’s brassy voice comes from the far corner of her living room, Kesia jumps, “SHIT ERIK! Why you standing over there in the damn dark?” Erik ignores Kesia’s inquiry, takes a seat on the couch, whilst grabbing the remote control. “Come, sit.” Kesia does as she’s told.

Erik turns on the television then changes the channel to 2.

“Good evening Oakland! This is Noah Clark for your 10PM News on DWOL Channel 2. BREAKING NEWS from the Eastmont Hills area. Covering the story is our reporter, Rebecca Moore, Rebecca? What do ya have?”

There’s a pregnant pause as the reporter listens in for the host’s question, “Yes, I am here on the corner of 79th Avenue and Hillside Street where this home that you see behind me, has been riddled with bullets around 8:45 this evening. Police that arrived on the scene believes that two to three suspects drove past this residence and unloaded shots from tactical T-91 assault rifles. Our Oakland PD SWAT doesn’t even have these in their possession. A witness who seems to live in this home, tells us what happened.” The program transitions to an interview that was recorded slightly earlier to a familiar face, “Yeah, so.. I was waiting on this girl I just met to pull up on me. I was on the porch. Next thing I know, my dog started barking from the back yard. As soon as I turned to see what she was barking at, I hear shots. I duck down for cover! I don’t know who could’ve done this. I don’t got no enemies.” The sound fades out as Rebecca’s voice forms in the background, “Twenty nine year old Dontay Phillips lives in this southeast Oakland home with his bedridden grandmother who was stirred awake by the 57 shots let off by these military grade weapons. Luckily no one was shot in the melee of gunfire, but it sure did shake Phillips up.” Dontay’s voice pans back in, “I’m grateful to the lord above me and my granny still here.”

Kesia watches the tv in awe. She cannot believe that Erik shot up Dontay’s grandmother’s house, She looks up at her conniving boyfriend, “How did yo--” He slips his hand in between her thighs where her phone rested and holds it up, “I told you.. the less you know..” Kesia slaps his arm, “You could’ve killed them!” “Ke, you know if I wanted Dontay dead, he would’ve been dead. I ain’t know he lived in his grandma house. He flexed to m---to you that he lived alone.” “Waiit.. He did what now?” Erik explains that while you were keeping your friends and family company, he was texting Dontay telling him that you were free for the night, plans got canceled. He sent you--Erik his address and told you--him.. that he lives alone. “He’s lucky I just wanted to scare his bitch ass. If I wanted to kill him, him and his granny would’ve been gone..” Erik cuts the TV off then stares at you.. awaiting for a response. “Why are they saying there were multiple assault rifles? You got somebody to do this crazy shit with you?” Erik flashes his bottom fangs as he cheeses at her odd question, “I got three of those bad bitches! I call em Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup.” Kesia rolls her eyes at his names for his guns that could’ve killed some guy you had no intentions of even getting to know. “I just switched em out every 20 or so rounds.. each one got a different serial number on the shells.. all of em are impossible to track.”

Kesia stares at him for a spell, then she bursts out laughing. “Okay so you CRAZY CRAZY? Got it!” Erik protests, “Uhh uh. I told you about them thirsty ass niggas. You had the audacity to give that sucka ass nigga yo number.. I had to regulate. Oh, and I blocked his number after I deleted the text thread and his call.” With that, Erik gets up and snatches his shirt off. That makes Kesia gasp with a hint of a moan. Erik’s ears perk up after hearing it, “So you coming to bed baby? Let’s finish celebrating that promotion.” Kesia grabs his hand and leads him to her bedroom while shaking her head at her crazy boyfriend, “Let’s.”

--

Hope you all like it! I know I’m rusty as shit but hopefully requests will roll in and I can get back in the swing of things. 

@chaneajoyyy​ What my favorite librarian think about it?!

[jaskiers-sweetkiss]

Sunset Swerve - Part 6

Pairings: Luke x OC

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: light cursing

A/N: Day 6 of @jatp-week is favorite fanfic trope and since I’m a sucker for enemies to lovers here’s the next chapter of Sunset Swerve! We’re through episode 5 now. Some house keeping before you get into the chapter: song lyrics are italicized and the songs used in this chapter are Get Gone and Last Song by Thalia Mar. Idk why but the jatp soundtrack reminded me of her music so I figured why not make them Apollo 81 songs? Definitely recommend checking her out! As always, let me know what you think!

Part 5  Masterlist

___

“Where are they?” Julie paced backstage.

“They’ll be here any minute,” Jordan had reassured the girl last time she had asked. That had been nearly an hour ago and this time the ghost girl had no explanation for their absence.

She frowned as she considered what might be keeping the three ghost boys from their first gig. The only feasible explanation she could come up with was that they’d gotten what they needed from Willie’s friend and were currently confronting Bobby. The thought made her blood boil, that they would abandon the girls for revenge.

“I have no idea,” Jordan answered the pacing girl, “But I have an idea.” “Idea for what? Can you like summon them here or something?” Julie asked skeptically but at least she had stopped pacing.

“No.” Julie frowned. “But, I know a way Julie and the Phantoms can still perform. Well, Julie and the Phantom, singular.”

“We can’t perform without the guys, we need them for all our songs.”

“True,” Jordan admitted. “But there are some old songs I wrote with Apollo 81 that we could perform with just the two of us.”

“You want to learn a brand new set of songs and perform them tonight?” Julie questioned, crossing her arms and giving Jordan a look that clearly showed her disbelief.

“I already know the songs and you’re a freaking music prodigy, we can absolutely do it.” Jordan protested, “I’ll pop back to the studio to get my notebook and meet you in the band room, okay?”

Julie nodded, smiling at her in a way that told Jordan how crazy she thought she was.

Jordan appeared in the studio a moment later and quickly scrambled up the later to the loft, sifting through her left behind belongings for her old song notebook. She kept the most recent one on her at all times in her bag but it was filled with songs for a four-piece band, none of which she could rework in time for herself and Julie to perform. However, she knew somewhere in the loft there was a notebook of songs she and the girls had been working on just for fun, some of which could easily be performed by just the two of them.

She thrusted it into the air triumphantly when she finally found it in an old box with some Apollo 81 memorabilia.  She quickly poofed back to the school, landing on the piano bench next to Julie.

“Did you find it?” She asked after recovering from being startled by the ghost’s sudden appearance.

“Got it right here,” Jordan held up the notebook before flipping through the pages. “So I was thinking we could start with...”

Jordan walked Julie through her thought process on the setlist before they got to work. Just two songs to learn as fast as they could. They practiced for nearly an hour, Julie finally seeming comfortable enough with the lyrics and melodies to make it work when she got a text from Flynn.

“We should get out there,” Jordan said, moving to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder but forgetting that was impossible. “We’ve got this.”

Julie nodded, taking a deep breath before holding her head high and marching out of the band room. Jordan whooped excitedly as she followed behind her.

“Get ready cause Julie and the Phantoms are about to rock your socks off!” She called excitedly though she knew only Julie could hear her.

Julie shook her head, laughing at the girl’s outdated phrases.

“It’s eleven o’clock, you gotta perform,” Flynn said when they arrived backstage. “Even without the guys you’ll sound amazing.”

Julie smiled at the compliment.

“Don’t worry, Jordan and I have a plan.”

“You’re going on?” A voice asked from behind them and Julie froze.

Jordan cooed silently at how adorable the blond boy was, clearly caring about Julie and the band.

Julie nodded, though Jordan could see the nerves filling her again. Nick grinned from ear to ear before running out on stage.

“Guess what guys!” He exclaimed, grabbing Flynn’s microphone. “Julie fixed the hologram thing! Who’s ready for a show?”

The crowd erupted into cheers and Jordan grinned, starting to bounce on the balls of her feet as she felt the mix of nerves and adrenaline pumping through her body as it always did before a performance.

“Uh, hi,” Julie said, stepping onto the stage and accepting the mic from Nick.

“You’ve got this,” Jordan called out reassuringly and Julie took a breath, starting stronger.

“So, here’s the thing: even though we got the machine fixed, thanks to Nick,” she smiled at the boy and the crowd cheered, “I still can’t link up with all the guys, WiFi am I right?” She joked, gaining chuckles from a few people in the crowd.

“So, the shows going to look a little different tonight. It’s just me and Jordan, hope you don’t mind.” She smiled lightly and the crowd cheered while Jordan whooped again from behind her.

Flynn grinned at her best friend, giving her two thumbs up as she walked off stage.

“Get all your bags, get out my house, I don’t want your stuff around. I never did you wrong, but you did me wrong so go ahead and get gone,” Julie sang from the piano, repeating the intro once before Jordan joined in.

She poofed onto the stage, guitar in hand as she took over the melody, Julie jumping up from the piano as the crowd cheered for what they thought were hologram effects. As Jordan played Julie began to stomp and clap out a back beat, getting the crowd to follow along as she joined her bandmate in center stage.

“All this time, I wasted on you,” she began the first verse, the crowd yelling excitedly as the girls played. “You’d think I’d feel something. You thought wrong. I feel nothing, so now I guess it’s your move.”

“You used my back as a door, left me for dead on the floor. You didn’t try no not one bit,” Jordan took over for the pre chorus, leaning into her own mic. “Thought I came off as weak, well this is me proving you wrong.”

“Get all your bags, get out my house...” Julie took over the chorus once more, Jordan singing the backup harmonies.

Before she knew it the song was over and the crowd was screaming. Jordan grinned, slinging her guitar to the side as she pulled her mic from the stand.

“Hi, guys!” She greeted the gymnasium. “We’re Julie and the Phantoms!” The name was met with a roar of applause from the students. “I hope you don’t mind that we deviated from our usual rock sound for you tonight.

“For this next song I wanna get my girl Flynn up here!” Jordan spoke, waving the girl onto the stage again. “As you’ve all seen tonight, Flynn is crazy talented and I’m hoping she can help us out with this next song as we’re missed a few hands,” she laughed, gesturing to the mostly empty stage and Flynn nodded, moving over to her setup.

“This ones called Last Song, hope you like it,” Jordan grinned, gesturing to Julie who had returned to the piano.

While Julie began the first verse, switching the keyboard to an organ sound Jordan explained to Flynn what they needed.

“...I never let it go cause you never gave me the chance to,” Flynn joined in with the beat and Jordan grinned. “I never had the time to talk and be done with you, so I say it now,”

“This is the last song I promise you at least for now,” as Jordan came in on her guitar Julie bounded over, holding out her microphone for the ghost to take over the chorus. “This is the last song I’ll ever write about you.”

The two girls fed off each other’s energies and the cheers from the crowd, neither one able to keep the smiles off their faces.  It was over before Jordan was ready for it to be, the three girls taking a bow and Jordan disappearing once more.

She watched from the side of the stage as Julie thanked their audience and soaked up the applause with her best friend. The gymnasium emptied out not long after and once she was sure Julie was all set she poofed away, planning to give the guys a piece of her mind.

When she arrived back at the Hollywood Ghost Club she wasn’t sure what she was expecting but it hadn’t been a hopping party with a massive band. The whole room was dancing and Jordan couldn’t help but bop along to the beat as well as she searched for her bandmates. She finally found them as the song wound down, all three of them right in the middle of the stage.

“The haunting hour is upon us!” A man in a fabulous purple suit called when the clock struck midnight and the crowd replied with a low ‘ooooh’ before the band kicked up again.

Jordan watched with crossed arms as Luke scrambled to get the boys together, the trio rushing towards the exit where she was stood.

“Oh shit,” Luke cursed, stumbling to a stop in front of her and holding his arms out to stop the guys behind him.

“Yeah,” Jordan said snidely and the guys gulped.

“Gentlemen, what’s the rush?” The purple suited man from before questioned as he poofed behind the group and Jordan turned to face him. “You must be Jordan. We certainly missed you tonight.”

“Looks like I missed out on quite the party,” Jordan replied sincerely before turning to glare at the guys.

“Well the party’s just getting started, and you have an eternity after all,” he quirked an eyebrow at her and she smiled gratefully at the offer.

“Y’know that girl who can see us?” Reggie interjected, pushing forward past the guys. “We sort of bailed on her. See there’s this dance at her school tonight, and she’s got this friend Flynn who’s a super cool dj like-“

“Okay, I don’t think he has an eternity to hear the story,” Alex cut him off.

“Basically we’re late for a gig,” Luke summarized and Jordan snorted, late was an understatement.

“But what about my offer?” Purple suit asked and Jordan frowned.  

“What offer?” She asked, looking between the man and her bandmates.

“To join my house band,” he answered, spreading his arms out in a grandiose gesture. “Naturally the offer is extended to you as well, I’ve heard you possess a great musical talent.”

“Thank you,” she blushed at the compliment. “But, I’m already in a band.”

“Yeah, it’s like we said Mr. Covington,” Luke started but purple suit held up a hand to stop him.

“You have your own band, I understand.” He said, his seemingly warm smile not quite reaching his eyes. “But, if you ever wanna come back and fix that little problem with your friend, the Hollywood Ghost Club is always open.”

The guys grinned at the offer and Jordan held back a sigh. She understood the importance of getting back at Bobby but their pursuit of revenge was kind of becoming a problem.

“Yeah, man, we’d love to come back,” Luke accepted and purple suit smiled, reaching out to shake his hand.

“Music to my ears,” he said, shaking each boy’s hand in turn and then reaching Jordan. She hissed slightly as she felt something burn into her wrist as they shook hands.

“Oh, it’s just a little club stamp.” He explained as she watched the purple symbol fade away and they all nodded at the explanation.

“Until next time,” he said, chuckling deeply. It was actually mildly disturbing, Jordan thought.

She stood and watched as each boy filed out of the building, not planning to let them out of this one. Alex took a moment longer to inquire about Willie, which Jordan allowed because truthfully she was rooting for them.

Once they were out of the club, they all poofed to the school, Jordan appearing next to Julie under a now half-popped balloon arch.

“Julie we are ready to rock this.... dance,” Reggie called as the guys ran into the gym, faltering as they took in the scene before them.

“We are so, so sorry that we bailed on you,” Luke said, stopping next to Reggie as they faced Julie who had since stood up, adopting a disappointed stance.

“Yeah, the night really got away from us,” Alex continued.

“And the twin,” Reggie added, only to be met with glares form the other three ghosts.

“Why didn’t you come get us?” Luke asked, turning on Jordan accusatorially.

“Nuh uh, don’t you turn this on her,” Julie sassed, stepping between the two ghosts. “You guys were supposed to be here. She’s not your babysitter.”

“You’re right, we’re so sorry,” Luke sighed, staring down at his shoes. “But we’ll make it right, we’ll do whatever it takes. We’ll play the next school-“

“What, another dance where you can bail on me and make me look like a fool? Save it,” Julie  spoke and Jordan gulped. “If it weren’t for Jordan I never would’ve been able to show my face here again!”

“You know what sucks?” She continued, growing more emotional as the confrontation went on. “Our songs were good. And all three of you knew what I’ve been through. How tough it’s been for me to play, and you do this? Bands don’t do that to each other. Friends don’t do that to each other.”

Jordan tried to hide her sniffles as she discreetly wiped the tears from her eyes. She couldn’t handle Julie’s speech and the heartbreak obvious on the guys’ faces. She had wanted them to get shamed a little for their mistake, she was disappointed in them herself, but not like this. She couldn’t stand to see all her new friends this upset, especially with each other.  

“This was a mistake,” Julie said quietly but firmly.

“Y-you mean the school dance right?” Luke gulped.

“No.” Julie said coldly, “I mean joining a band with you guys.”

Before any of them could stop her she was running out of the gym, both Luke and Jordan calling out her name as she left.

“Why couldn’t you have just come and gotten us, Moss,” Luke spat, turning his heartbreak and frustrations on her.

Jordan sniffled, no longer trying to hide her tears as she stood from the gym floor.

“Why couldn’t you have just been responsible?” She wasn’t sure where she’d found a voice through her tears and swirling emotions, but the voice she found was full of malice and betrayal.

Before they could get into another of their signature fights she poofed out, reappearing in the studio. She didn’t stay long, only taking the time to grab her book before running up the path to the house and Julie’s room. She hoped the girl wouldn’t mind that she was there, but she was certain she wasn’t welcome in the loft anymore.

She nearly collapsed in pain upon arrival in the room. A sharp jolt of pain had shot through her chest, it felt almost as if she were dying again.

“What the hell was that?” She groaned quietly to herself, curling up on the ground.

Part 7

___

JATP Taglist: @meangirlsx 

Sunset Swerve Taglist: @oopsiedoopsie23 @angryknightstatesmantrash @onlygetaway @deni-gonzalez @advicefromnixxxx @brooke0297

[falcon-eye]

Another ficlet featuring Cat OCs which will eventually become a part of a bigger story from @inexplicifics Accidental Warlord AU! This one kinda got away from me, Idk. I wanted to include a little more info on my Cats but after a while I felt like I was rambling. I also feel like the tone is kinda all over the place. I like what I wrote, but Idk about how I wrote it, if that makes any sense. And I’m not satisfied with the ending. I also hope the “deal” makes sense too. Idk. I’m just generally sorry for how weird this one turned out. Any questions, even if they’re just about the characters, please shoot them my way! Hope you enjoy!

-

The Law of Surprise had never steered Veko wrong. Well, ok, that wasn’t exactly true. It had never fucked him over, anyway. Well...

Ok, see, many, many years before the White Wolf began his reign, Veko and his twin brother Hamra had been traveling with the Cat School’s caravan. They always had, ever since becoming Witchers, although they sometimes broke off for hunts either alone or with each other. Siblings were rare among Witchers, twins especially, and identical twins even more so. Plus, Hamra was... gentle—for a Witcher anyway. He hardly made eye contact and often didn’t talk until absolutely necessary for days at a time, often using signs when he didn’t want to (or couldn’t) speak. Veko was used to it, often either being able to decipher his brother’s signs and gestures, or filing in the blanks himself. This also meant he was frequently his brother’s “translator” of sorts. Despite mostly taking hunts together though, Veko, like everyone else in the caravan, needed a break from time to time. Especially from his brother’s guilty looks.

It’s common knowledge that Cats are the more... emotional of all Witchers, prone to mood swings, rages, and the occasional bloodlust. It’s just how the mutagens made them, as much a fact as the sky was blue. Didn’t make it any easier on any of them, though. Veko knew this all too well.

Although Hamra was quiet, generally incredibly awkward and painfully shy, he too could and had been taken over by his emotions. And unfortunately, Veko was always in the line of fire—literally. The fight had been... stupid. Probably. Now, years later, neither twin can remember what the it was even about, and none of the other Cats were paying enough attention to care. Hamra was too enraged to remember what happened and Veko. Well, Veko, whether he was trying to calm Hamra down or was truly fighting with him, took an Igni to the face at basically point blank range. Sure, the smell of cooking monster was one Witchers eventually got used to, but as it turns out, the smell of your own brother’s flesh burning from his face and neck snaps you out of a rage pretty well.

Veko was out of commission for quite a while, by Witcher standards. The left side of his face, from under his eye down his neck, and disappearing beneath his armor, was a permanent web of tight, puckered scarring. It wasn’t bad enough to lose his ear or anything, thankfully, and no actual holes in his skin, but it was big and grotesque enough that there was no possible way to hide it unless he covered his entire face. So Hamra had to look at his greatest mistake every time he looked at his brother, and Veko had to deal with the sour smell of guilt pouring off of his brother almost every waking moment.

So, yeah, he needed a break and a solo hunt every once in a while.

This one was about as basic as they get; bunch of drowners terrorizing a local village, no problem. Veko took them out with ease. Or so he thought. Going back to the village to claim his pay, he heard an old man crying for help and realized one of the drowners had broken off from the others. Just great.

The old man and the drowner both were stuck in thick mud, a pathetic sight as the man frantically tried to free himself as the drowner clawed at him. Veko literally walked up next to the creature and decapitating it, yanking the old man out of the mud while still in mid swing.

“Witcher!” the old man cried, his knees nearly buckling once he was on solid ground. “Oh thank you Witcher! How could I ever repay you?!”

Sheathing his swords, Veko chuckled. “I mean, coin never hurts.”

As Veko wiped the mud from his face, revealing his burns, the man paled. “I-I don’t... I-I don’t have any money on me,” he said. “Please, sir, there must be something else I can give you!“

Veko sighed. “Not a problem,” he said. “How about this—first thing you see when you get home, I’ll take that. I’ve got to get my pay from your village anyway. Why don’t I stop by your house in the morning?”

The old man nodded vigorously. “Yes, yes sir Witcher!” he exclaimed. “I live on the edge of town, just a little farm, the one with the blue roof.”

“Blue roof,” Veko said, squinting at the old man. “Yeah, it’s suits you.”

The old man looked confused, but Veko waved him off and walked back to the village with him. Luckily, the alderman didn’t scrimp him over on pay, but it still wasn’t a great amount. However, despite actually being paid the amount he was promised, the local inn just so happened to be completely full. Whatever, you win some, you lose some. Pocketing his coin, Veko led his horse a little ways out of town and reluctantly set up camp.

Veko’s horse was a dun gelding, one of the several Law of Surprise claims and other non-coin payments Veko had made over the years. Once, he’d gotten a literal chicken dinner from a family (which he shared with them, godsdamned his bleeding heart). Another time, an old woman he’d saved from a werewolf offered him and Hamra her home for the night, and taught Veko how to knit when he couldn’t sleep. The horse was relatively new, having picked him up from a farmer with a bad wolf problem, and didn’t give two shits about the Witcher. Which was fine by Veko. He wasn’t close with his horses like some Witchers were. This was his eighth horse, appropriately named Eight.

Eight was a bastard of an animal, constantly biting at Veko’s fingers, clothes, weapons—really anything he could reach. He’d also literally kicked Veko in the ass a few times, and once right in the balls, to the entire caravan’s delight. Eight was also a particular fan of loudly chewing the bark off of whatever tree he was tethered to, which made trying to get peace and quiet a bitch. Not-so-secretly, Veko was hoping whatever the old man saw when he got back to his house was a different horse. It was too expensive to buy another one, and despite the fact that he and Eight hated each other, he’d never wish harm upon the animal. He just wanted to be rid of him, that’s all.

But when he arrived at the old man’s home the next day, horse, chicken dinner, knitting lessons—none of it came even close to what was waiting for him.

A petite woman in a pale blue dress covered in splatters of paint slammed the front door open as he approached. Her hair, brunette, was up in an approximation of a bun, but it was hard to tell as it was so messily put together and curled wildly where it escaped.

Veko saw the exact moment she saw his burn scars, but to his surprise, only faltered for a moment. “Witcher!” she shouted, marching right up to Veko and poking a paint-stained finger to his chest. “You can turn around and leave right now!”

Veko blinked down at her. “Uh, excuse me,” he scoffed, “I came here to get my payment. Who the hell are you?”

“Your bloody payment,” the girl hissed, throwing her arms out. “Surprise!”

“Eloise!” the old man Veko had saved came rushing out of his house, taking the woman’s hands in his. “Please, Eloise—“

“What in the hell is going on here?!” Veko exclaimed, making the old man flinch but the woman—Eloise—stood her ground.

“You asked my father to give you the first thing he saw when he came home, right?” she snapped. “Well I answered the bloody door, Witcher.”

Veko took a step back and raised his hands in surrender. “Ok, ok, so this is just all a misunderstanding, I get it. I’ll just—“

“No, no!” the old man exclaimed as Veko turned back to his horse. “Please, Witcher, it’s the Law of Surprise, it’s destiny!”

“Fuck destiny,” Eloise spat. Veko had to agree. But the old man was frantic now.

“To-to go against destiny—“ he continued, before breaking off into a hacking coughing fit that actually had Veko concerned the man would drop right there.

Eloise calmed her father down and held him until his coughing subsided. “Please, papa, you’re going to overwhelm yourself.”

“Eloise, my darling,” the man choked out, “this is all my fault, but please, you cannot go against the Law of Surprise!”

Veko watched the two for a moment before clearing his throat. “Maybe—maybe we can work something out,” he said. Obviously the man was only getting more and more worked up as the conversation went on.

Eloise glared at Veko for a moment before crossing her arms. “It’s ok, papa,” she said, still glaring, “I’ll talk with the Witcher and sort this whole thing out.”

“Y-yeah,” Veko said. “Um. Do you wanna...?”

Eloise grabbed him—actually grabbed him, the balls on this woman!—by the arm and dragged him behind the house, towards a small stable and paddock where a few goats were housed.

“Alright, Witcher, listen,” Eloise snapped. “I don’t believe in all this ‘destiny’ bollocks. The Law of Surprise is bullshit.”

“Hey, I’m with you there,” Veko said. “I normally get like livestock or food or stuff like that.”

Eloise sighed and bit at her nail, staring out across the paddock. “My father believes in all of it,” she said. “My mother died when I was young. Destiny, papa always said. It’s garbage. But my father... he’s very old. I need to take care of him. Whether I believed in all that shit or not, Witcher, I cannot come with you.”

“And I don’t want you to!” Veko exclaimed. “I can barely take care of my horse properly, let alone a human. You’d get killed or something. Why would I want you to come with me?”

Eloise scoffed. “I can think of one reason,” she said bitterly. Veko rolled his eyes.

“Oh please, I’ve got two hands and enough coin set aside for that.”

Eloise actually cracked a tiny grin. “Regardless,” she said, “my father isn’t going to let this go. And I don’t want this to work him up anymore than it already has. I’m afraid for his health.”

“What do you suggest?” Veko asked.

Eloise thought for a moment. Veko’s scar started to itch. It always did at awkward moments, or at least it seemed to anyway, and this was about the most awkward situation Veko had ever been in. This woman was actually... strangely intimidating! Veko turned away to scratch at his face, which seemed to break Eloise out of her thoughts.

“Do you... want something for that?” she asked. “We have some salves in the house just... in case we...”

“No, no, that’s fine,” Veko said as she trailed off in thought. After another moment, Eloise suddenly clapped her hands together.

“I’ve got it!” she exclaimed. “I know how we can appease my father and still make this work.”

Veko nodded awkwardly. “That’s... good, yeah. Um—“

“This will be your home,” Eloise interrupted.

“I don’t follow.”

“Simple,” Eloise stuck a finger in the air. “You’re a Witcher—you travel. So you must spend a lot of the money you earn at inns and on food and things.”

“Or I just sleep outside,” Veko cut in. Eloise waved him off.

“We could tell my father that the Surprise you’ve claimed is the right to come here and stay whenever you’re in the area. Or rather, the right to my home as your home.”

“How does that factor you into it, though?” Veko asked.

“Technically my father saw the house before he saw me,” Eloise replied. “Plus, we could say that I’m a part of the house, that I keep it for you. Or that the house and I are a package deal.”

Veko crossed his arms. “Do you think he’d buy that?”

Eloise crossed her arms back. “He will if you say it.”

Veko ran a hand through his hair and blew out a puff of air. “This is crazy,” he said.

“You claimed the Law of Surprise, Witcher,” Eloise snapped, “not me.”

Veko started scratching his scar in earnest now. “Ok, but what about the village? What are they going to say about you being ‘claimed’ by a Witcher?”

“Frankly I don’t give a damn what they think.”

“What if you want to get married someday?”

Eloise guffawed. “See, that’s the other thing,” she said. “I don’t want to get married. Ever. Having a Witcher ‘claim’ me as his would get every man in town to leave me well alone. This helps all of us.”

As Veko thought on it, Eloise slapped his hand away from scratching his face again. At his shocked face, she merely glared back.

“You’re something else, you know that?” he said. Eloise grinned.

“Why, because I’m not afraid of you?” She laughed. “You bleed just like the rest of us, Witcher. So what do you say?”

Eloise held out her hand and for a moment, Veko actually hesitated. Not because of the deal itself, but because this woman was truly unafraid of him, of seemingly anything, and it made him feel... vulnerable in a way he wasn’t used to. After a moment, Veko gently took her hand—and wow, she had a hell of a grip for a human woman, too! “Deal,” Veko said.

“Now to tell my father,” Eloise said, already starting to drag the Witcher back around the house.

As it turned out, Eloise’s father was thrilled with the idea. Eloise could stay with her father, destiny would be satisfied or whatever, and Veko would get free food and lodging whenever he was around (which probably wouldn’t be for a very long time anyway). The only problem was that Eloise’s father seemed to take Veko “claiming” his daughter and home as... well... essentially Eloise settling down with the Witcher “to start a family”. Veko was mortified but Eloise just smiled and nodded, going along with what her father said until he looked away and giving Veko a look that meant under no uncertain terms would that ever be happening.

A few details still had to be hashed out, but Veko wanted nothing more than to get as far away from this town as possible. How the hell had a drowner contract produced this much trouble?

Later, Veko reunited with the Cat caravan and Hamra. His brother chuckled softly at whatever look was on Veko’s face, and when Hamra signed asking how his hunt was, Veko groaned.

“Took out some drowners,” he said. “And... and Ham, I think... I think I got fucking married.”

Hamra actually burst out laughing, the first time the smell of surprise and amusement replaced the sour guilt that hung to his brother like a cloud, and Veko couldn’t help but join him.

Fuck the Law of Surprise, Veko thought. Never using that again.

[botwstoriesandsuch]

Whats your method for transcribing music from BotW? And, while I'm at it, whats your method for composing?

oh?? Oh??? OH??? Questions about music? Questions about composing for Kip?? You know not what waters you have just unleashed. 

Ok so for the first question, I just transcribe based on the internet, and just by listening to the soundtrack by ear. I kinda just stitch together the melody based on sheet music on musescore, and covers on youtube, and I just kinda see how those versions are composed and then based on that I craft how I want the music to sound on my own version. 

I have this decade old Yamaha DGX640 keyboard that only has five song slots so the most I can(know how to) do is record one two-handed harmony and use my phone to record me playing the melody on top of that. But it’s kinda tedious and the botw songs are usually easy enough to play with just two hands anyhow so I really only use that method when I wanna be fancy. I have a habit of just using left to play arpeggios and by then the music usually sounds full enough. (cough cough that Rito Village one cough cough) So yeah it’s basically a method of studying the basic material online and then making up and crafting whatever stuff sounds nice around it

As for the original comps, well they’re all usually based on some botw concept (as I’m guessing most of the ones you’ve all seen are just the oc themes lol) so I do one of two methods. The first method is I take the key signature of a botw melody that is related to the thing I’m composing for, then I fuck around on a keyboard until I have a melody I think sounds cool. USUALLY I make it on a typical build to coda/climax thing, but the example I’m using is an exception (cause it was my first draft and all I did was repeat the first half with additional harmony)

Ok so I take the key signature, I craft my original part of the music, and then based on the “story” I want to tell, I fuse in a bit of the botw bits within “lows” of the song. So in Zimiri’s Theme for example, I had this certain segment of Kass’ Theme that I liked, so I started based on that key signature. Then I just completely forget about botw while I compose the parts for my character. So Zimiri is a Sheikah poet for the royal family, and also a bard, so I made his theme in 3 to give it that waltz feel. The Eflat key has that...idk the technical term, but it just has that vibe of kindness and serenity and wisdom which is what I’m going for in his character. Now, Zimiri also has a crush on Zelda, but he knows that’s unrequited and he’s mostly ok with that, but that doesn’t stop him from at least dreaming of some unreality where he could dance with her under the stars (uh fic spoilers I guesss). Hence, his main melody, (0:10) the half note Eflat to D to Bflat, is of the same beat pattern of Zelda’s lullaby. And then, uh character arc spoilers! The story I’ve constructed for Zimiri is basically this idea that he comes to understand this battle between what he wants and what he knows he needs to do. He has a harmless crush on Zelda, but he knows he needs to respect her and do what he can as her friend during these rough times. [I mention Zelda a lot but I swear that’s only like 7% of his character] He recognizes that Adello and Revali and a bit of Link, they all want to [REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED] but he tries to push them to be more [REDACTED REDACTED REDACTED], even if that isn’t always successful. He’s mostly a static character, that recognizes what other people want, but wants to help them be better through what they need, which is an ironic trait since it’s a bit contradictory to his whimsical and almost naive cinnamon bun personality as a bard. But that’s like his main thing, you see like, he wants nothing more than to be the hero of the story and to wield a sword and save everyone, and while its OK to dream that, he still is content and fills his role as support, as the “harmony,” the background to the melody if you will. So THAT is why, the song is crafted where it’s grounded into his main melody, those three notes, the halfnote Eflat, to D to Bflat, and while the song ascends and seems to dance in the stars and the harmony (wink wink parallels) rises and becomes more prominent over the course of the song, it ultimately always Always comes back down to those three main notes. It’s like a dream that will eventually fade back into reality. The whole song is an ascension to those higher, magical notes in the “stars,” that comes back down to the essentials of Zimiri, those three main notes, that as said before, are similar to Zelda’s Lullaby, but is purposefully, a full descension in the scale, it doesn’t rise. 

Ok and then Finally, finally finally finally, we come back to that botw aspect. Like all of that, is just the original stuff and the thought that goes into where the notes go and how the stuff moves and plays out, it’s basically like planning a fic outline or something. But anyhow, this idea that I’ve been crafting for Zimiri’s theme, this concept that he understands that even though he might not be the one to save the world or see the fantastical end to the story, this whole ascension and descending thing, with the higher parts being a the stars that aren’t yet in your reach or the dreams that are not yet reality and all that sap? Right so now that’s when we can put a bit of Kass’ Theme into those higher parts. 0:33 and 1:07 are just bits of Kass’ Theme slowed down, specifically, the parts in Kass’ Final Song the time and sacrifice aspects of the legend. “Now resurrected after 10,000 years//Her appointed knight//Gives his life//Shields her figure and pays the price.” You could probably hear the “10,000 year” part most prominently. So one, the botw aspect serves to the themes that I’m going for in this character, and two, it serves as that connection between Zimiri and his eventually successor, a successor who would live out to see a dream that he couldn’t wooAAAoooh parallels. And even still, the segment that I’ve drawn out of Kass’ Theme still descends (seamlessly I might add, if to toot the horn a bit) into Zimiri’s core 3 note theme. So while I’ve written the piece to pick up at those whimsical parts, and to foreshadow and encompass the journey I have planned for this character, I’ve ultimately grounded the music itself to a specific scene that I have written, (and not yet posted I need to finish some other things) where Zimiri playing music to himself under the stars, the melody on his lute serving only to keep the sky company. 

OH RIGHT and I said I had a second method for composing stuff didn’t I ahaha...this post it already way too long and full of uneditted rambling so maybe I’ll gush about that some other time :p

[smutty-ki113r]

yes yes i am very sure that Ben loves u ! he snatched my phone out of my hand to look at the picture. I am almost certain he was blushing ( •̀ ω •́ )✧ hehe. he told me to tell u that u r gorgeous <3

I totally get what u said abt having trouble with believing love, red! I also have trouble believing that anybody could love me! Trauma yes u r right ig lmao

ALSO WTF HOW R U SO PRETTY?! MIGHT SNATCH U FROM BEN NGL 😘💕

oh yeah Ben completed the heart like... I wish I could take pictures of him man :< but he did and he was grinning ear to ear.

Oh god I have like a full pdf file with backinfo of my oc's and I need to update it again...(it's been only a month-) so uh sharing all of it would be kinda a lot. so here is a lil info abt my oc's: 8 clownis :> and then we have 3 mythical creatures and 2 robots but i don't count the bots as oc's since they r mostly just gadgets. my clowns r; as I said; based on clowndolls I either bought, made or got gifted. the mythical creatures have powers, 2 of them r based of drawings I made and the third is based of my comfort stuffie :> i'll keep it at that for now

OKOK i defintely think if u tell Ben u have trouble sleeping he will either stay up with u or "help u out" haha.

It went great with toby 🥰 maybe a lil tmi BUT well my crevix felt abused- but I slept like a goddamn baby. I slept 8 hours yay!!!

sorry for answering a lil late...i got my period and felt horrible yesterday. the pain was ok but my dysphoria acted up again -.-

I feel a lot better today :>

-🃏

DID HE SEE ALL THE PICS? I posted more cause people were boosting my ego and BRO it’s so hard to heal from those things. Cause if people actually do want to be with me it’s like do I trust them? IDK for you but for me, people used to lie about being in love with me, so now I am suspicious. Also cause wow, there’s a lot of people out there why would you choose me? Im actually super insecure about myself LOL im trying to work on it!

HE COMPLETED THE HEART????????? DEAR LORD THATS ADORABLE———grinning ear to ear i could cry!! from happiness obviously—————- side note: question; i am not sure how things work over there HAHHAH, but if Ben can see the pics and the fics are like my anon messages (like this one) there too?? Like can he for example read this? Just completely random cause i literally have no clue how it works over there-. ALSO since your’e with Toby lucky bitch i could strangle you, with love cause i love you so much does he ever talk about masky? 🤨 Cause I remember you tellin me he’s quite reserved. Hmmm. LOL IM SO INVESTED IN THIS SHSH

Thats so impressive, you literally have clown oc’s from the dolls you make. 😮 Thats a different level of dedication. AND YOU DRAW//?? Imagine the talent. What kinds of powers do your mythical creatures have??? I LOVE IT!!! I dont have oc’s per say, i just have like a book im writing, but that’s different i think?? Cause i get so attached and like one of my protagonists i fucking- i cant even describe. But I wrote an entire piece on that. LOL LMK IF YOUD LIKE TO READ IT

If I ever got in an intimate situation with ben I would get so so sososososos insecure. Like im such a simp ofc yes, and AGH SEX but also like,,,HAHAHHAJHA I HAVE SO MANY CONCERNS WITH MY BODY- regardless. I am so fucking PROUD OF YOU! Look at you- getting good dick sleep. NEVER TMI ON THIS BLOG 😌

Bro, we are literally SYNCING UPPPPPPP, I got my PERIOD LIKE TWO DAYS AGO AGHHHH. But ive been having dysphoria too, and i completely understand. Remember that you are valid, and you are in fact NOT A GIRL, and you never have been, and you never will be. Its literally scientifically proven that non cis people’s brain are literally different- you will always be just a person in my eyes. Gender is shit, fuck gender, it’s literally made up.

I LOVE YOU!!! I wish i could crawl over the screen like ben or smtg and give u a hug.

[ms-rampage]

Family Reunion 3

Word count: idk lost count

Warnings: some swearing, Lucifer and Gabriel being flirts, ALMOST SMUT. Castiel the cockblocker.

Characters: Sam and Dean Winchester, Castiel, Lucifer, Gabriel, my OCs Paige and Kate Winchester.

Summary: Paige and Kate get taken (not in a bad way) by archangels Gabriel and Lucifer. Castiel tracks them down.

Note: Sam, Dean, Paige and Kate aren't related (they're each others male/female counterparts) but in this they're cousins. Their dads are cousins.

I'm thinking about continuing this mini series.

____________________________________________________

"Damn it!!! Those sons of bitches!!!" a furious Dean yells, as he walks angrily down the hallway towards the library.

"Dean, calm down. We'll get them back" Sam says, trying to calm him down.

"Seriously why the fuck would they take them!?!?. We promised their mom we'll keep them safe, and the Archangels just sweep in and take them the moment we have them." he says, still irritated.

"Cas can't you somehow track them?" Sam asks him.

He sighs and says "I can try but it'll take a while until I get a specific location on them. I can most likely track Gabriel but Lucifer he'll be a difficult one to track."

Dean rolls his eyes in frustration, and sighs. "Well what do we do now?. Gabriel and Lucifer have them doing who knows what to them. Lucifer is probably torturing Paige, and Gabriel is probably making Kate going through his wacky antics like he did with us".

He says the last part about Gabriel to Sam.

____________________________________________________

Kate lands on a bed making her yelp, she sits up and looks around the room.

"What the fuck?" she mutters to herself.

Its a really nice hotel room, dimly lit, a King size bed with dark red satin sheets with a white fur comforter, a fire place and a 80 inch TV on the wall. It basically looks like one of those love suites.

"What is this place??" she whispers to herself.

"I'd figured I show you a good time" Gabriel says, appearing next to her on the bed.

She quickly stands up from the bed, stumbling to get on her feet, still looking around the room.

"Where am I?!?!" she asks, panic in her eyes.

A smirk on his face before saying "One of my personal suites".

He gets off the bed and walks around it towards her.

"I figured, since you're clearly not like the other two Winchesters. I'd show you a fun time" he says smirking, while brushing her hair behind her ear.

"Uuhhh, okay?" she mumbles out, still confused.

"Don't worry I don't bite. Hard" he says, with a smirk.

____________________________________________________

Paige lands on the floor landing on her ass, this always happens when she's being teleported somewhere and she hates it.

She's in a bedroom, she stands up and looks around. A black room with candles on the walls lit with a white flame. She sees a bed with black sheets and a black fur comforter. Everything in the room is black, and it reminds her of her room back in Wyoming.

"Where am I?!?. What's going on?!?!" she yells out.

"Don't worry about where you are" a familiar voice says.

"Oh fuck" she murmers. Turning around and sees Lucifer leaning against the doorway. He leans off the doorframe and walks towards her.

"Just worry about who you're gonna do it with" he says with lust in his eyes.

She looks at him confused, and somewhat afraid because what if this is a trap to kill her. Then Sam and Dean won't know what happened to her, her mom won't know what happened her, or to Kate.

"You're gonna kill me, aren't you?" she says backing away from him.

He looks at her acting hurt, placing his hand on his chest for a dramatic effect.

"Oow Paige, you know that still hurts me. I would never do that to someone with a pretty face like yours" he says, moving her hair away from her face, and cupping her chin.

She's still afraid and confused, she doesn't know if she can trust him. Could this be a trap or something?. Sam and Dean wouldn't know where to find her if he killed her. Her mom wouldn't know what happened to her either. She just hopes Kate is fine wherever Gabriel has her.

____________________________________________________

Gabriel has Kate pressed against the bed, and is working on her neck, leaving bites and kisses. Her hands pinned down to her sides by his.

His hands move down to the hem of her pants, unbuttoning them. Her hands free, she cups his face and kisses him, deepening it. He starts to pull down her pants, he's only able to pull them down halfways, only to be interrupted by the sound of wings fluttering.

He breaks their kiss, rolling his eyes in annoyance and turns around to face his little brother Castiel.

Gabriel groans in annoyance, and says "Umm Castiel can't you see I'm a little busy here" irritation in his voice.

"I'm gonna need her" he says, to his older brother.

Gabriel crosses his arms, and says "Well, you're gonna have to wait your turn".

Cas rolls his eyes, and says "You know that's not what I meant".

Gabriel groans in annoyance again, and says "Can't you just let me have my fun with the humans?"

Cas stares at him with so much intensity, Gabriel pinches the bridge of his nose in annoyance of his little brother, and says.

"You want her? Fine, take her" stepping out of the way.

Kate sits up, and fixes her pants. Buttoning them back up.

"Kate, come with me Sam and Dean are worried about you and Paige" he tells her.

She gets up from the bed, and walks over to Cas.

Gabriel grabs her hand, and says "Oh and by the way, I'm not done with her yet. I was just barely getting started on her. I'll come back for her later" he says Castiel, and he winks at Kate.

Cas shakes his head, then him and Kate teleport to Paige's whereabouts.

____________________________________________________

Lucifer on top of Paige, his body pressed against hers. Pinning her to the mattress. Her hands pinned down by his powers, both of them are still fully clothed, he starts to unbuttons her flannel, attacking her collarbone and neck with his lips and tongue. He bites at her neck while grabbing a handful of her hair, making her moan.

Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling her closer to him. He continues to work on her neck, marking her with bites. He frees her hands, and they immediately go up to his face, cupping him, pulling him in for a kiss. Her hands roaming his head and back.

He undoes her pants, pulling them down, he slips his hand between her legs, making her moan softly at his touch, and much like Gabriel, he gets interrupted by the sound of wings fluttering. He breaks their kiss, and says against her lips.

"I'm in the middle of something Cas".

"I'm going to need her back as well" Castiel says to Lucifer.

"You can wait until I'm done with her" he says, not looking back at his little brother.

Paige looks over and sees Castiel with her sister, who is looking on in confusion at them and around the room.

"No" Cas says.

He moves away from Paige, removing his hand from between her legs, and faces him.

"No?" he asks, figuring out who he was talking to.

Kate takes a few steps back. While Cas remains still, staring at his older brother.

"Sam and Dean need both of them back at the bunker now!" he tells him.

"Okay so? And I'm gonna need her here" he says, as he points to Paige before saying "So I can give her a little something. You should know what I mean" a lustful smirk on his face.

Cas shakes his head, "No. Sam and Dean need both of them now".

"And what are you gonna do about it?" Lucifer asks, annoyance building in his voice.

Paige already knows how this is gonna end, and she steps in between the two angels.

"It's fine Lucifer. We can continue later, or another day" she says hesitately.

He smirks, and grabs her waist. Pulling her closer to him, whispering into her ear "You're not gonna be able to walk afterwards when I'm done with you". Followed by him licking her cheek with his forked tongue.

She smiles at him, backing up to Castiel and Kate. He teleports them back to the bunker.

____________________________________________________

Sam and Dean are sitting at the library table, waiting paitently for Cas to return with their younger cousins.

Dean sighs loudly, putting his beer on the table "What's taking him so long?!".

Sam shrugs, "I don't know. Maybe finding Paige is a lot more difficult because Lucifer took her, and he usually doesn't like being found"

Dean rests his arms on the table, "Son of a bitch, I still can't believe they took them. Especially Lucifer, I don't want them anywhere near him".

A few moments later, the sound of wings fluttering gets their attention. Cas appears along side with Paige and Kate.

They both get up immediately going towards their cousins, and hug them.

"Are you guys okay?" Sam asks worried, checking them for any injuries.

"Yeah we're fine" Paige says, reassuring them.

Dean hugs the both of them, "We're glad you're both okay" he says, "We promised your mom we would keep you both safe".