#only works on certain doors and i didnt remember to add that before it was too late and it blew up😂😂

[artist-rat]

snatching this from an old post abt unexpectedly blowing up a door with magic (!!!only works on ones that don't need the deft hands perk!!!). just reminiscing again, love esp. blackwall here

[pastel-bullet-101]

Part 2

Once I got a better look at our new teacher I recognized him. He the pro hero Eraser head. I was always a secret fan of him. Liking heros weren't very welcomed in my 'house', but he was one of the few heros that followed Tomuras ideology. Hes known for not being very... adamant about being a top hero. "Right let's get to it. Put these on and head outside." He pulled out a type of track suit from the sleeping bag.

Wait. What?

He then passed out assigned uniforms I was gonna go meet up with Tsu, but i was stopped by the very same teacher Aizawa. "Are you Y/n L/n?" I began to slightly panic "y-yes sir."

"We need to talk." Oh god.

He knew. No dont think like that. Your a student attending UA to become a hero you have nothing to worry about. If I believe it then it's true. "Um yes sir."

He took me back into the 1-A classroom, now abandoned. He then went behind the desk. "So does your quirk rely on touch?" I tense at his question. "Um no-no sir. Depending on the weight I can use a certain amount of force and shatter it. But-but if let's say I was punching something that was around 200 pounds but I release the amount of force equivalent to 100 pounds it would only shatter the area of contact and half of the object." I let out afoced laugh the situation was extremely awkward. "Alright." He then pulled out a pen and placed it on the desk in front of me. "It weighs about 1.5 ounces." I look at him confused. "I want you to shatter it." I take a gulp and I reach for the pen.

"Of course you'll have to reverse the affect." This caused me to stop in a moment of hesitation. He then let out a small huff. "Look if I'm being honest I honestly think a quirk like yours shouldn't be in a hero course." I try to keep my composure but on the inside I'm confused why does the quirk make the decision of whether your a hero or not? "So have you even tried to reverse the effects of your quirk? Or did you assume you would only go up against robots or villians that deserve death?" I didnt know what to say. What do you even say? I've practiced reversing my quirk but if I'm being honest it was always a gamble and I've never even tried reversing the effect on a animal let alone another human being. Aizawa obviously noticed the conflict in my eyes but he then caught my attention with one sentence. "If you cant reverse the effects of your quirk then I see no point in you continuing studying at this academy."

'You can't expect to reverse it by just staring at it.' I yelped at the sudden voice. I turned around to see Kurogiri staring at me. 'Yeah I know that its just...I-I dont know what else to do.' I then grabbed my knees putting them up to my shin while staring daggers at the shattered pen. Kurogiri then sat next to my small form. 'You know who would be a great person to ask for help?' I looked up at him expectantly. Shaking my head he responds. 'Believe it or not Shigaraki would be a good help.' My head drops at his statement which doesnt go unnoticed by the man made of smoke. 'I just dont want to bother him...' Kurogiri let's out a light chuckle making me look at him confused. 'I think you are one of the only people who he wouldn't mind being bothered by.' I let out a chuckle of my own. Pulling my knees tighter to my chest I stare at the pen. The time limit probably already gone. 'Alright come on I think you need a break.' He got up expecting me to follow but i couldn't find myself to move. 'Well if you wont come I guess all that F/F I prepared will have to go to waste.' I immediately perked up and started running to catch up to Kurogiri.

I was eating with him laughing about anything and everything when Tomura came in the door. I was about to run up to him and give him his 'welcome back' hug but one look at him and I could tell he was exhausted just from his body language. So I decided to just give him a smile. Tomura then looked confused stopping in his tracks for a moment. 'Hey Kurogiri do you mind.' Kurogiri gave his equivalent to a nod and dissapeared. I was staring down at my plate and felt a stool being pulled out next to me. 'Pretty late what were you doing?'

'Oh um you know just-'

'Your not very good at lying.' Yeah

I wasn't 'I- I was practicing control of my quirk.'

'Why? Did something happen?'

I laughed a bit noting the concern in his voice. 'No nothing happened I'm just trying to learn- learn how to reverse it.' I didnt know how he'd react I was expecting anger but instead I got a sense of sadness. 'How long have you been trying to learn?'

Huh?

A-about a month or so...' my hand slowly reached to my head scratching at the side of my scalp. Tomura grabbed my hand gently leaving his pinky up. 'I could've helped. Why didnt you ever come to me?'

'I didnt want to be a bother to you. You always have things to do and I don't want to add to your list of things-'

Do you know how sad it is to hear that your own sister wont come to you for help? I feel like I'm losing you... I dont even get hugs from you when I get back from missions...did I- did I do something that made you mad?' I look up to him and notice hes no longer wearing father letting me see the distraught in his eyes. I quickly wrap my arms around his slim body holding him. 'I'm sorry. I just didn't want to get in the way but...I should've thought about how you would feel.' I felt him wrap his arms back around me, letting his head rest in my hair. He then pulls back only saying. 'So let's try to learn how to reverse your quirk.'

Looking over to Aizawa the thoughts in my head go wild. I can't get kicked out that ruins everything not only for me but for Tomura the league as a whole. I cant leave now I-

"Come on we haven't got all day your wasting time and i still have another test to start with the rest of the students. If you wanna save face then just say now that you cant do it."

Alright I have a limited amount of time after shattering to reverse it and I dont have the luxury to take my time. I take a deep breath and reach for the pen. All it'll take is a light squeeze and it's done for. I have to do something anything but staying still. I lightly squeeze the pen and it shatters in my hand and I keep all the shards in my hand. All right focus. Focus. Focus. I take a deep inhale and enclose the shards in my hands. 'Remeber to keep your head clear and make sure your focusing on the shards.' Clearing my head I let the room around me fade my focus on the shards. 'Good now imagine what it was before picture every detail, every crevice and focus your energy into retuning that obeject.' I follow the instructions closely letting energy flow down to my hands encompassing the shards. 'Remember to breathe.'

I open my eyes and open my palm.

It's a pen... I did it. It's back to normal. I cant contain the wide smile that covers my face. I look over to Aizawa , I cant read his facial expression making me worry. "It's obvious that you've been practicing meaning you understand the repercussions of your quirk good work. Now make your way to the rest of the class on the feild."

"Oh y-yes Mr. Aizawa." With that I quickly fled the room.

Aizawa slowly walks up to the pen and examines it. "Well isn't this interesting."

[lilfellasblog]

Can I Still Be Part of the FamILY? - Virgil’s 2019 Name Reveal Fic!

Summary: YouTube viewers are getting a little too good at theorizing. Virgil’s certain that once his famILY learns of his past, they’ll force him to go back.

A/N: If you liked this, please reblog. It is the only way to help this fic reach a wider audience. Tumblr ate most of my fics that I know I posted here, which makes me very sad for a lot of reasons, one of the biggest being that the love and comments and tags that folks showed this fic is gone into the ether. I’ll be making a masterlist to help prevent this from happening again.

TW: Deceit mention, description of panic attacks up to passing out, some negative self-talk. Let me know if I missed any!

Word Count: 1767

AO3 here!

Fic Masterlist here!

Virgil observed as Thomas scrolled through the YouTube comments.

“I can’t wait to see the newest Dark Side! Theorists, assemble!”

“Okay okay, so y’all remember Virgil’s time on the stand? I think the secret he’s hiding is that he was a Dark Side! Think about it. He got new clothes when he was accepted in the Hogwarts video, Deceit and Virgil obviously have a history that the other Light Sides don’t know, and if the Light Sides don’t know it then how could he have kept it a secret? The Light Sides know Deceit, but didn’t know the relationship between him and Virgil? SUSPICIOUS.”

“i totally agree…… virgil didnt start out in the sanders sides series……. hes hiding something…… that he doesnt want thomas or the light sides to know……..”

“I’m going to add on to this. I think Virgil is STILL a Dark Side and never truly became a Light Side. He only got accepted once the other sides saw how important he was to Thomas. He’s just a flight risk. Virgil’s working with Deceit and/ or the other Dark Sides and doesn’t like Deceit, but he needs Deceit so he can keep the secret from the real Light Sides and Thomas.”

“Wait, Thomas is GAY?”

The rest of the comments were similar. Virgil felt his chest constrict as he pulled back from the front of Thomas’ mind. He huddled in his room, attempting to keep the anxiety he was sending the YouTuber to a minimum.

They can’t know, he can’t know, he can’t know!!! Oh god, they’re gonna reject me, they’re gonna send me back, I can’t go back!!! I can’t, I won’t survive it!! I love them so much!!!

Virgil barely registered his breathing picking up, his diaphragm crushed by the tense position he was tightly curled into. He started to sob, but soon ran out of air. His lungs were burning as they were starved of oxygen, and he could smell and taste copper.

I’m going to miss them. It’s going to hurt so much when they kick me out. I love them. I love them all. Thomas, I’m so sorry…

Virgil’s final thoughts were images of the Light Side’s faces that he’d never get to see again.

////////////////////////////////

Patton jolted out of his nostalgic reverie when he sensed Thomas in distress. Looking out, he saw Thomas in front of his computer trying not to have a panic attack. Patton quickly rose up a few feet away from Thomas and gently called his name. Thomas jumped so hard he hit his knees on the bottom of the desk.

“Ow. S-sorry Patton.”

“It’s okay kiddo. Think you can breathe with me?” Thomas nodded. “Great! In for one, two, three, four. There you go Thomas you’re doing so well. Hold for one, two, three…” Patton stayed with Thomas and helped him with his breathing exercises until he was feeling better, worrying the entire time about Virgil. I need to go check on my little shadowling!

“Do you know what triggered it?”

Thomas shook his head. “No, I was just reading comments about theories and stuff, and I felt a little panicked for a half hour, and it just got a lot worse. Are you okay Patton?”

“I’m fine kiddo.”

“Oh my god, Virgil!!”

“I’m just about to go check on him. Will you be okay by yourself?”

“Yeah, I think I’ll be fine. I’m gonna take a break.”

“Good idea! Summon me if you need anything son!”

“You’re not my-” The rest was cut off as Patton sunk out. He rose up in the hallway that had each of their bedrooms. Logan and Roman were just coming out of theirs to see what the commotion was about.

“Thomas had a panic attack. I’m going to go check on my dark strange son!! Will you come with me?” Patton asked, flashing his puppy dog eyes.

“Of course!! If my dark knight is in peril, I will save him!” Roman declared, moving into his dramatic pose and holding the position.

Logan just stared at Roman in awe of the extra for a moment before shaking himself and turning to Patton. “I, too, would like to assist Virgil if he is in distress.”

“Awwww yay!!! All of my kiddos working together.”

“Actually, we are all close in age and you have not-”

“OFF TO VIRGIL’S ROOM!!!”

Patton giggled. “That’s the spirit Roman!”

Once they got to Virgil’s room, Patton knocked on the door. “Kiddo? Are you okay in there?”

Not hearing a response, Logan had to put a hand on Roman’s shoulder to keep him from kicking the door in.

Patton knocked again, a little louder this time. “Virgil? Can you hear us honey?”

Still not receiving a response, Logan had to tighten his hand against Roman’s pulls.

“Virgil might be in danger!”

“His door may also be unlocked. Patton, if you will?”

Patton opened the door with ease. Logan let go of Roman’s shoulder, who gripped the handle of his sword. Patton looked around the dark room, not seeing Virgil right away. Roman scoured the room, looking for threats. Logan spotted Virgil first, a small shiver and quiet whimper drawing his attention to a mass of fabric on the ground.

“Oh Virgil,” Logan breathed as he strode over to kneel in front of Virgil. Virgil didn’t respond, so Logan hesitantly reached out and pulled the hood down. He heard Patton and Roman gasp behind him; Virgil’s face was streaked with tears and makeup, and his face was red. Patton knelt down next to Logan and started brushing his fingers through Virgil’s hair.

“Kiddo? Can you hear me? Come on, it’s time to wake up sweetie. It’s okay honey,” Patton cooed gently, trying to wake his shadowy songbird. After a few minutes and much to the relief of the Light Sides, Virgil began to stir. He blearily opened his eyes and flinched when he saw the other Sides so close to him.

“Shhhh, it’s okay kiddo. You’re safe.”

Virgil’s eyes widened. “Thomas!!”

“He’s okay kiddo.”

Virgil’s breathing began picking up and his tears started flowing again as he remembered how this was likely the last time he’d ever get to see the Light Sides and they’d hate him and-

“Virgil, may I touch you?” Logan asked.

Virgil jumped but nodded. Logan took Virgil’s hand and pressed it to his own chest.

“We’re going to do some breathing exercises now Virgil. First, please exhale so you have room for new air.”

Virgil thought it was a little strange, but cooperated.

“Excellent. Now breathe in for one, two, three, four…” Logan led Virgil through ten minutes of breathing exercises until the only thing cluing them into his distress were his tears.

“My dark prince, what troubles you?”

Virgil bit his lip. “Nothing,” he mumbled.

“Kiddo, you know that lying is wrong,” Patton gently reminded. They noticed the full-body flinch, which immediately made Patton feel terrible. He decided to switch tactics.

“It’s okay sweetie, you know you can tell us anything. You’re famILY!!!”

This only brought more tears from Virgil. Patton frowned, confused and a little hurt. Does he not consider us famILY? Did I do something wrong?

“Virgil, Patton is correct. You are a part of our family, and I sincerely doubt that anything you say can change that.”

“Indeed! We shall never forsake you!”

“Never say never,” Virgil muttered under his breath. Logan tilted his head.

“You believe that whatever is troubling you will cause us to no longer consider you a part of this family?” Logan asked.

Virgil responded by curling in. Patton gasped in horror.

“Nothing you say can make us stop loving you!” he cried.

“I USED TO BE A DARK SIDE!!!” Virgil shouted in his tempest tongue.

A silence fell over the room for several moments. Virgil curled in and started crying in earnest.

This is it, they don’t love me anymore, they hate me, they-

“We know Virgil. What about that did you want to tell us?” Logan asked.

Virgil froze. They knew? They knew? How did they know? How long? Virgil let out a particularly anguished sob at his next thought. Has this all been fake?

“Oh sweetie… can I hold you?” Patton asked. Virgil couldn’t help but nod. Patton tenderly pulled Virgil into his lap, kissed the top of his head, and rubbed his back.

“Shhhhhh, it’s okay baby, you can tell us in your own time.”

Virgil sniffled. “Th-that was w-what I wanted t-to tell you.”

Patton made a confused noise in his throat while Roman joined the other three Sides on the ground and gently placed a hand on Virgil’s shoulder.

“Virgil, we know you used to be a Dark Side.”

Virgil froze, then barked out a humorless laugh. “So why haven’t you chased me back to the Dark Side?”

Roman gaped. “Why would you think I would do that?!”

“You hate the Dark Sides!!”

Roman sucked in a breath. “Virgil, I… I’m so sorry.” Virgil braced himself. Here it comes. Can a Side die if it gets stabbed by a sword? “I should not have treated you so cruelly when I was first getting to know you. You are so valuable to me now, as a co-worker, and as a friend. I… I am so terribly sorry that my biases caused you so much harm, but I do consider you one of us.”

“Roman’s right!! You’re my kiddo now!!”

Logan flipped through a few flashcards. “As the hip say, “We been knew”.”

Despite his fears, Virgil snorted at Logan’s attempt to be cool. “You… you guys really don’t mind?”

“Not at all!!” Roman assured.

Virgil hid his face. “So I got worked up over nothing, huh? Is it Monday already?”

“It is in fact Monday.”

Virgil had to bite his lip at Logan’s factual response.

“Honey, you got scared you were going to lose your famILY. Of course you’re going to be upset! And you should always feel comfortable coming to one of us if you start feeling scared or unloved!! We’ll convince you in whatever way we have to! I’ll probably cuddle you!”

Virgil chuckled. “Thanks Pat.”

Roman squeezed Virgil’s shoulder in a silent sign of support. They stayed there for a few minutes until Patton spoke up.

“I think we need a movie night!! Who’s with me?”

“Sounds great Pat.”

“Indeed!”

“That would be adequate.”

Patton giggled in excitement as everyone stood. Virgil still felt a little shaky, but it was nothing new with his panic attacks. The Light Sides ushered Virgil out of his room as he smiled.

Virgil looked forward to watching movies with his famILY.

[order-progress]

I used to have a really entitled outlook on life. In my mind though, I was entitled to my thought processes because it was where my mind existed in the place having had come from a once far more turbulent era. Back then I didn't question things that werent outwardly obvious. I didnt question the unremarkable identities of things that exhibited no distinctions amongst one another. Life was a stream of experience, and I just did the best of choices I decided to arrange, or really actually, more like shuffle choices into a messy pile and pat myself in the back cause I could squint at it my mismatched pile of non related events and not feel guilty for putting off routine, structure and goals.

I guess it isnt so surprising to anticipate that like all my other experiences, disicpline would present itself when and if I needed it to be summoned out of wherever creative and yet very hard to imagine location i would imagine it arriving at some future, ambiguous date, just in time to make no work look like fancier no work and with ribbons on it.

Something very common happened to me, something that is happinning right now all around the world, no matter how many days, or years after i first posted this here.

My boyfriend broke up with me.

I wore my entitlement pretty high that day, because somehow, despite there having been no carefully executed plan made on ky end--some masterpiece scheme of genius where one could really see there existed some reasonable and healthy attention to tackle to fucking problem.

Nope. My mother fucking entitled ass decided id actually be shocked. Not even fake shocked. Thats how you know you have lost touch with your surroundings, because big things happen in your wake..while your awake and yet somehow your stuck on who killed the butler in the library with the candle stick.

What makes this one of the most significant event despite its occurance being fairly common globaly, is that his presence had caused me to become more aware of more of the things I would have otherwise taken in stride, none of these events were remarkable on their own, but collectivelly, I had inadvertantly cleaned up my mindspace to find neatly organized clusters of thoughts no longer blending into the subconcious like 70's urban grafitti.

I didnt hold that moment to some disporportionately skewed sugar coating scale just to get ribbons on them after they were organized,I just acknowledged them, like a breath,where as before, they were simply obstacles or pit stops that would perpetuate the chronic attention deficit I had welcomed into my head. I like to think of ADD as the worlds most innefective street sweepers, they sweep alright, but they just make a bigger mess and then you got things in places they have no business being in.

I was in a place of low self worth because of an accumulated collection of short lived and half assed adventures, disastrous endeavers and the nefarious presence of something so obscured, so black and forboding, made me avoid certain places for simply not wanting to deal with the house keeping it wouldve required to mitigate its destructive intentions.

I kept myself busy to not force the acknowledgent that this would become a source of not only my insecuruties, but then in addition to its ever increasing interconnectedness, its complexity. Its chambers that hardened like a mystical kight of armor, whose drawers were full of destructive objects and thoughts that rattled in their confinement as a means of foreshadowing something so sinister, I could not then yet fathom the destrutive ways its icy talons would engulf and twist into my everyday life simply to create chaos, and it didnt register that this was a problem because amidst this battle royale of fragments and bits of poorly put together patterns, Francisco's presense was a light whose emimation lulled me into a complacecy I hadnt anticipated

It wasnt that in this period, that I conciously made a decision to disregard the growing issue, it was the novelty of being in a loving, beautiful and mature relationship with someone that as each day grew, so did my conviction that this person was becoming the brightest fixture in an ever cramped confined hallway of possibilities.

As I stood there aware of this moment, feeling a satisfaction and a gratitude I had never felt before, I realized that I had come so far on autopilot, it was a move that was almost instinctual, I rolled my sleeves up, put on the rocky theme song, got my gym bag ready, went and bought like every stupid unessecary stupid trinket shit people buy to feel like their getting a handle and a good start on some shit, but really it just becomes the infuriating bag of junk that is now the obstacle between you and the door handle to exit your car and actually start your project.

I felt a sense of urgency, I saw how unequipped I had been and while I was and it was this moment that taught me how much I loved him. I reckognized that somehow I was one of those fucking weirdos that jumped through those seedy ass short cut type scenarios in life to give you the same effect of the real thing in less the time, kind of like a GED vs high school diploma, or plan b instead of condoms.

I recognized that there was an innate element of unneccesary risk involved in many of my accomplishments. The risk was usually always a concious decision that I would accept a certain amount of totally unnecessary consequences that typically would define the life of those people who you catch specific glimpses of in mysterious times like dawn or dusk. And be like..yea i could totally see that guy having to figure out what to do with the llama he inherited as a result of some gamble.

This was no longer an acceptable risk. It wasnt that i thought it was dangerous or scare him away, its that I am not the kind of man that wakes up and sees the problems his factory has and finally knows how to fix it and then just be okay with going to bed and put it off.

This is where I get annoyed again. I knew that I wasnt capable of actively doing something against him, because we both agreed on things, and also neither of us was completely high as fucking kite on methamphetamines while operating a forklift to tune a paino yet.

I couldnt ever feel bad about atheletes who ugly cried after being disqualified for juicing to get an unfair advantage in the sports world.

Yet once again my overwhelming confidence, my lovable man mentality of "fuck a map or tools you got grit, spit and teeth". Prevailed.

Im mad because it was this moment right here. In a sea of me being happy to grow and learn and doing the rignt thing. I saw a place i overlooked, its presence was almost like a marker that there were many other areas i needed to work on, and i got sad.

I didnt feel good enough. I felt like a mess. I felt dissapointed at the pride in nothing I had taken so many times. I was finally proud of the changes i was making again, only to be reminded in a very real way of how I never had structure, never had a fail safe implemented effectively to instead of adopting either anxiety or no fucks about an event that could have been in my power to mitigate, i either didnt even notice I missed it, or didnt care.

As I started seeing the mountain of work I had to do, I wondered what it meant about how effectively i could handle other things moving forward, it was an irrational fear that I had that I would dissapoint him because I wanted us to be happy. But i am an artistic person, people who work with details to make a larger picture learn early on how to work details, and I never evaluated just how shoddy my altertanitive crash course was like getting PlAN B instead of putting a condom on.

I can handle pressure effectively. I can be okay with my decisions. What I cant do is open up a factory, see everything that was negelcted when I now know how to fix it, and then go to sleep like nothing bothered me.

I never in my life found myself in a place where i came face to face with old life and it made me feel sad or humilated. I felt like a fraud for just having gotten lucky that everytning worked out, while he worked hard.

I suddenly felt something I never experienced before, fear in love. The moment where you realize your not a piece of shit because you actually dont want to let someone down, the moment when you feel bad because you walked around in life with luck you didnt give a second thought to and passed it off as hard work. And here was this beautiful man, whose life was suffering and hard work, and you realized all of it at once, and there I was, eager fucking beaver captain america man of the house cause now i feel like a god damned engineer since i could assemble an ikea 3 piece wrench-back the fuck up motherfuckers.

I just felt humbled and i felt driven. I also felt the pressures rise up around me and I dont know why I couldnt look away from the sight of the realization of how id been. And its not like i did it all on purpose, but from that moment on, it was as if I had something to prove to myself that at that time I couldnt understand yet because I hadnt reflected yet. And as I was taking the scenic route on ways to "punish yourself is actually how we fucking motivate ourselves around here cus were fucking men" the bigger I created something inside me that wasnt ever there. And then as the places that I had been tendering to and growing in started to not be kept, pressure in my life at home happened. And for the first time in my entire life I was embarrassed at my life.

I remember the moment I felt it, my mom leaving me at work after I lost my car. I walked 2 miles in the cold because i was infuriated that I allowed another event I could have forseen to happen.

I never in my life reflected this intensley on my actions before. Having him in my life made me realize I had been holding myself to a higher standard because I am at my best when I when I am actively building towards something. I opened a place in me I never saw with those eyes and it hurt me. I tried to let him in, and to be honest, the insecurities of him seeing all that mortiified me..not because I would be seen as a slob or this or that, i was just dissapointed that I for a time during when I needed it the most in my early life, I wasnt necessarily taught healthy ways to do things. Mostly because I came to this country at 10, didnt know english, parents worked all the time until i was 16 and then dad got sick with brain cancer and we caught it after he had a seizure cause dad apperently loved moonlighting as my biggest fan when he would go reading my journal at night.

I didnt know how to explain it to francisco. I was feeling. New concept, i was feeling out of sync, i didnt understand why it hit me so hard. I was trying to look away and orient myself on the present.

I could have just dealt with that. But i suddenly felt raw and vulnerable. My boyfriend and I were getting into arguments because I just wanted us to be closer due to this need i didnt know how to vocalize about what I was going through, and he hesitated because he probably thought id leave him if i saw his dirty secrets.

That was the one thing he really never appreciated about my love. I just knew. If everything else was as evident ..like this feelings and where they came from and how to process them healthy while ...it just all got too much. I didnt know how to tell him what I needed. I just needed him.

I started to feel like i wasnt tethered to the focused areas I was so eager to work in. I just kept telling myself communication is key we will get through it.

Then I the drugs did something I didnt expect them to. They turned off this guilt and switch. They gave me the quiet to make them come down to a more manegeable place where I wasnt overwhelmed anymore.

Because I couldnt process this in words at the time, i didnt know how to express that to him. It led to me feeling guilty for not understanding why i enjoyed doing the drugs aside from the stimulant effect. When i tried to explain it to him, it was like trying to coin a cheesy motto for a doomed cereal commercial in french, basically everuthing sounded like something he had no understamding or could relate to.

I started feeling depressed because i could see that although from his perspective we were fighting..

I was even more frustrated becauese we werent fighting. I was pretty much crying, trying to tell him in french something he didnt understand while he was yelling at me in english about me not respecting him by not speaking english.

This was the worst fucking part. Because part of the issue that led me here was accountabiliyy and communication.

I kept telling him in the only way i knew how.please im sorry i know things are getting worse. But this isnt how we are.

I thought we could get through anything.

In his mind he saw a piece of something, he ignored my emotional attachment to it..and i mean i cant blame him, other people never quit.

But even in those moments i knew i wasnt going to be other people.

And suddenly i was alone. I was depressed. I had realized that it wasnt us that was th issue so i tried so hard to communicate more effectively that he got frustrated and said i talked in loops. I felt so alone because i understood his frustration and i just needed him to trust me. But that was the perfect storm when i just got so alone feeling from his inability to just not look at me how i felt at myself. And i honestly tried to fix it in the middle of him running away and the most painful thing was that he couldnt understand and i didnt know how to say it.

I dont blame him for leaving

But a part of me breaks to my very core to know that if he just literally lookrd at me like yes i was going crZy but i was just hurting and overwhelmed.

All i wanted and needed was him.

The worst. Pain was that he didnt see that.

And i needed to explain it. And he didnt let me.

I felt like i was desperatly trying to express something of real explaination. I just honestly was desperate to because he was running.

I

[kitcatgamer101]

Chapter 2

Once I got a better look at our new teacher I recognized him. He the pro hero Eraser head. I was always a secret fan of him. Liking heros weren't very welcomed in my house, but he was one of the few heros that followed Tomuras ideology. Hes known for not being very... adamant about being a top hero. "Right let's get to it. Put these on and head outside." He pulled out a type of track suit from the sleeping bag.

Wait what?

He then passed out assigned uniforms I was gonna go meet up with Tsu, but i was stopped by the very same teacher Aizawa. "We need to talk." Oh god.

He knew. No dont think like that. Your a student attending UA to become a hero you have nothing to worry about. If I believe it then it's true. "Um yes sir."

He took me back into the 1-A classroom, now abandoned. He then went behind the desk. "So does your quirk rely on touch?" I tense at his question. "Um no-no sir. Depending on the weight I can use a certain amount of force and shatter it. But-but if let's say I was punching something that was around 200 pounds but I release the amount of force equivalent to 100 pounds it would only shatter the area of contact and half of the object." I let out afoced laugh the situation was extremely awkward. "Alright." He then pulled out a pen and placed it on the desk in front of me. "It weighs about 1.5 ounces." I look at him confused. "I want you to shatter it." I take a gulp and I reach for the pen.

"Of course you'll have to reverse the affect." This caused me to stop in a moment of hesitation. He then let out a small huff. "Look if I'm being honest I honestly think a quirk like yours shouldn't be in a hero course." I try to keep my composure but on the inside I'm confused why does the quirk make the decision of whether your a hero or not? "So have you even tried to reverse the effects of your quirk? Or did you assume you would only go up against robots or villians that deserve death?" I didnt know what to say. What do you even say? I've practiced reversing my quirk but if I'm being honest it was always a gamble and I've never even tried reversing the effect on a animal let alone another human being. Aizawa obviously noticed the conflict in my eyes but he then caught my attention with one sentence. "If you cant reverse the effects of your quirk then I see no point in you continuing studying at this academy."

.

.

.

'You can't expect to reverse it by just staring at it.' I yelped at the sudden voice. I turned around to see Kurogiri staring at me. 'Yeah I know that its just...I-I dont know what else to do.' I then grabbed my knees putting them up to my shin while staring daggers at the shattered pen. Kurogiri then sat next to my small form. 'You know who would be a great person to ask for help?' I looked up at him expectantly. Shaking my head he responds. 'Believe it or not Shigaraki would be a good help.' My head drops at his statement which doesnt go unnoticed by the man made of smoke. 'I just dont want to bother him...' Kurogiri let's out a light chuckle making me look at him confused. 'I think you are one of the only people who he wouldn't mind being bothered by.' I let out a chuckle of my own. Pulling my knees tighter to my chest I stare at the pen. The time limit probably already gone. 'Alright come on I think you need a break.' He got up expecting me to follow but i couldn't find myself to move. 'Well if you wont come I guess all that F/F I prepared will have to go to waste.' I immediately perked up and started running to catch up to Kurogiri.

I was eating with him laughing about anything and everything when Tomura came in the door. I was about to run up to him and give him his 'welcome back' hug but one look at him and I could tell he was exhausted just from his body language. So I decided to just give him a smile. Tomura then looked confused stopping in his tracks for a moment. 'Hey Kurogiri do you mind.' Kurogiri gave his equivalent to a nod and dissapeared. I was staring down at my plate and felt a stool being pulled out next to me. 'Pretty late what were you doing?'

'Oh um you know just-'

'Your not very good at lying.' Yeah

I wasn't 'I- I was practicing control of my quirk.'

'Why? Did something happen?'

I laughed a bit noting the concern in his voice. 'No nothing happened I'm just trying to learn- learn how to reverse it.' I didnt know how he'd react I was expecting anger but instead I got a sense of sadness. 'How long have you been trying to learn?'

Huh?

'A-about a month or so...' my hand slowly reached to my head scratching at the side of my scalp. Tomura grabbed my hand gently leaving his pinky up. 'I could've helped. Why didnt you ever come to me?'

'I didnt want to be a bother to you. You always have things to do and I don't want to add to your list of things-'

'Do you know how sad it is to hear that your own sister wont come to you for help? I feel like I'm losing you... I dont even get hugs from you when I get back from missions...did I- did I do something that made you mad?' I look up to him and notice hes no longer wearing father letting me see the distraught in his eyes. I quickly wrap my arms around his slim body holding him. 'I'm sorry. I just didn't want to get in the way but...I should've thought about how you would feel.' I felt him wrap his arms back around me, letting his head rest in my hair. He then pulls back only saying. 'So let's try to learn how to reverse your quirk.'

Looking over to Aizawa the thoughts in my head go wild. I can't get kicked out that ruins everything not only for me but for Tomura the league as a whole. I cant leave now I-

"Come on we haven't got all day your wasting time and i still have another test to start with the rest of the students."

Alright I have a limited amount of time after shattering to reverse it and I dont have the luxury to take my time. I take a deep breath and reach for the pen. All it'll take is a light squeeze and it's done for. I have to do something anything but staying still. I lightly squeeze the pen and it shatters in my hand and I keep all the shards in my hand. All right focus. Focus. Focus. I take a deep inhale and enclose the shards in my hands. 'Remeber to keep your head clear and make sure your focusing on the shards.' Clearing my head I let the room around me fade my focus on the shards. 'Good now imagine what it was before picture every detail, every crevice and focus your energy into retuning that obeject.' I follow the instructions closely letting energy flow down to my hands encompassing the shards. 'Remember to breathe.'

I open my eyes and open my palm.

It's a pen... I did it. It's back to normal. I cant contain the wide smile that covers my face. I look over to Aizawa , I cant read his facial expression making me worry. "It's obvious that you've been practicing meaning you understand the repercussions of your quirk good work. Now make your way to the rest of the class on the feild."

"Oh y-yes Mr. Aizawa." With that I quickly fled the room.

Aizawa slowly walks up to the pen and examines it. "Well isn't this interesting."

[i4z-0892-il]

Monster House 3

Summary: Posing as Newlyweds Sam and Y/n set out to investigate what’s killing the visitors of a secluded Inn, and attempt to keep their working relationship professional.

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Word count: 6100 Oops, my keyboard slipped

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ Only, suggestive themes, language

A/N:  TROPES. 

Buy Sam’s Scent Here from @scentsfromthebunker (And damn does it smell goooooood)

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Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

After following the main trail for nearly half a mile it was quickly decided that the most effective course of action would be to get off the path. Neither of you were exactly sure what you were looking for, but you could both agree that whatever it was you weren’t going to find it sitting like a silver platter on a main path. However, actually stepping off of it and wandering aimlessly through the dense forest surrounding you was another matter. There shouldn’t have been a reason to worry, after all you were in the company of Sam Winchester, one of the deadliest hunters alive. If anyone should have been worried it should be whatever you were hunting. Even still the chill that slid up your spine earlier never really faded away.

Realistically that unsettled feeling could have been a number of things. You were nervous. Even though you wanted to find the thing that was snatching bodies, you also really didn’t want to find the thing that was snatching bodies. The classic double-edged sword! If you find it you could stop it and kill it, or it could stop and kill you- always a gamble. And you did not like that shit at all. Dense wilderness also put you on edge, but that was from growing up in West Virginia where there was more forest than not, and from knowing exactly what was out there.

Certain parts of the wild should not be visited. Of that you were sure, beyond shadow of a doubt.

Since you could remember you were told to stay away from specific parts of the forests surrounding the tiny town tucked in the mountains where you grew up in. Everyone knew. No one talked about it, but everyone knew. The Wilderness to the North-West was home to something far older and more dangerous than any gun in that town.

There were rules everyone knew to abide by. And only the very stupid or very foolish chose not to listen.

Don’t go into the woods at night.

Never give out your real name- or anyone’s.

If you feel you’re being watched stay calm and get out without a fuss.

Take nothing from the forest because it will want it back.

When you see the fog, leave.

Don’t listen to the whispers, ignore the strange knockings.

Close the doors and windows, and don’t look outside.

If something is following you don’t ever turn around.

In your youth you were both stupid and foolish.

The rules your father tried to drill into your thick skull never stopped you from playing in the forbidden woods. When you were little you’d run through those trees like it was your own personal playground, it was magical and enchanted and it was all yours. Everywhere you stepped in those woods was warm and inviting, like a little bubble of safety all around you. You talked to the trees, and though they never talked back you felt loved and safe.

Until you got older. Sometimes it was inviting like it was when you were just a kid, other times it was warning you to stay away.

It was September and you were fifteen when it happened- when it turned on you. Walking home from school you cut through the trees. You knew that forest like the back of your hand and the idea of shaving nearly twenty minutes off of your walk was just a little too tempting. It was still warm, and everything was golden with that afternoon hue, just before the sun starts to set, and you weren’t afraid. You were just over half way home when the shift happened. That sudden change in the air that made you stop, body frozen on the spot. The air around you dropping to a temperature so cold you could see the puffs of air coming from your mouth. Everything darkened like the sun had disappeared, but dusk wasn’t for another two hours, and it seemed like the treetops had closed the holes in the canopy trapping you and claustrophobic.

Something felt wrong, terribly, terribly wrong.

Heeding the words of your father you forced your legs to move, to carry on your way. Don’t run, don’t panic, don’t be afraid. So you kept your head down, looked straight ahead, and kept going. It wasn’t long before you felt like you weren’t the only one in the woods. And up slithered that cold, creeping hand of fear gripping the back of your neck at the base of your skull, wrapping around your chest like a spider-web making your whole body vibrate in alarm. Your pace sped up as you tried to keep your breath from shaking; as you tried to keep the panic and dread that filled you from your head to your toes at bay.

The thudding of your heart all but stopped when you glanced up and realized you had no idea where you were. It was like you had run straight into a wall of Evergreen or the trees had uprooted themselves and moved just to throw you off. You knew those woods, there was no way you could have gotten lost on a path you had walked more than a thousand times.Yet there you were, standing somewhere that seemed foreign and hostile. Swallowing down the blooming anxiety stuck in your throat you willed yourself to keep moving remembering not to stay still for too long.

Thick rolling fog slid in along the sides of your vision appearing from nowhere and suddenly everywhere. It reached for you with wispy smoke-like tendrils threatening to snag your ankles if you weren’t quick enough. It whispered your name, your name which you had so ignorantly given in your youth. Your heart raced in your chest, blood pumping furiously with adrenaline. Lungs sucked in short, sharp shocks of air as you tried to remain calm to the best of your ability, but you were only holding on by a thread.

When you felt eyes on you it was your undoing. Overcome with dread and fright you took off as fast as your feet could carry you. And the wilderness did not like that. Tearing through the trees they tried to reach out with sharp branches snagging your clothes, and slicing fine lines in your face. But you didn’t slow down, you couldn’t slow down.

It was coming.

It was gaining on you.

The Thing in the Woods.

Your heavy backpack full of school books, binders and papers slowed you down. Without second thought you dropped the dead weight, praying to God or whatever was out there that you made it out alive.

The forest moved, uplifting a root and grabbing your foot taking you to the ground tearing holes in the knees of your jeans, scraping up your hands and splitting your cheek open on a rock beneath you. It didn’t give you pause though, in full flight or fight mode you scrambled to your feet kicking up a flurry of dead leaves as you did. The snapping of branches and footsteps behind you dropped your heart into the pit of your stomach, your nervous system short circuiting as every fiber of your being turned to stone.

Everything fell deathly silent, no rustling of leaves, no wind, no birds or insects. Just the sound of blood pumping in your ears and your ragged breath coming out in wisps of cold mist.

Every limb trembled, quaking with terror as you did what you could to swallow down your panic and turn your head in slow trepidation knowing you had broken nearly every cardinal rule. Dragging your eyes along the forest floor you turned them up and a silent scream caught in your throat.

“Hey, Earth to Y/n-” Sam said waving a hand in front of your face, snapping you from your trance. Like a deer in the headlights your attention was on him, he was looking at you curious and concerned. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good.” You answered shrugging off your discomfort. Shifting your weight from foot to foot, flustered under the scrutiny of his unsatisfied gaze, you turned your eyes anywhere but his face. Those damn hazel eyes would be the end of you, and you couldn’t stand him staring at you like he genuinely cared for too long. Only after you took a long look around did you realize that you had no idea where you were or for how long you’d been following behind Sam. You blamed it on the woods, they played tricks and you hadn’t been much of a hiker since your youth.

“So I think I saw a house or something just up ahead.” He continued, dropping the fact that you were so very obviously not good. That you hadn’t cracked a joke or made a comment you surely thought was witty for nearly fifteen minutes was clue enough but the spaced out, thousand yard stare plastered on your face sealed the deal. He wasn’t one to push, and you weren’t one to tell, you’d come around when and if you were ready. Even still it was a look he hadn’t seen before.

“Okay, lets go do a B and E.” You agreed with a clap before sweeping your arms to the side in a grand gesture. “After you good Sir.”

Sam scoffed and shook his head walking past you with an eye roll.

“You better be careful rolling them things that hard Sam.” You warned as you followed behind him. He turned his head, confusion creasing his brow. “You’re gonna roll ‘em so far into your head they’ll get stuck like that.”

That pulled a laugh from him, and those dimples you loved so much. You always liked to see him smile, and his laugh seemed to happen so rarely. So when he did it was like looking at the sun, radiant and warm, bringing life to all things.

He wasn’t kidding when he said he saw a house. Although “house” was a rather gracious term for what it was. It looked more like an old hunting cabin that had seen better days, held together by antique nails and the grace of god.

“Wow, this place is a dump.” You said stepping around him and into the small clearing to take in the sight fully, the fact that it was still standing on its own was impressive.

“Really? You don’t want to honeymoon here?” Sam asked as he dropped the strap of his backpack to his hand and knelt to unzip it. You stood with your hands at your hips studying the building that would surely crumble if someone looked at it the wrong way. After a short pause you turned your attention back to him.

“I thought about it, and no. I do not want to honeymoon here. As much fun as tetanus is- I think I’d rather not.” You stated. The corner of his lips pulled up as he grinned at you while extending a handful of silver bullets and a holster. He and Dean might have been content with tucking a loaded gun in the waistband of their jeans- but you were not. You knew how getting shot felt and you were not exactly the most graceful person on the planet either. The combination of the two was a recipe for disaster, and you were not trying to shoot yourself in the ass. It was a nice ass, you had full intention on keeping it that way. Strapping the holster around your thigh and snagging a silver blade from his small arsenal almost instantly made you feel better. Sam geared up and slung the bag over his shoulder again before standing and sweeping hair from his face.

“I don’t know. Clean it up a little, could be nice.”

“I somehow doubt that.”

“Yout sure? Hang some curtains over the boarded up windows there,” he said pointing to different areas on the house. “A porch swing there. And one of those little welcome mat’s that says ‘Leave’ at the door.”

Hand over your heart you turned charmed eyes up to him, sighing dreamily. “You’re right, it’s like a dream.”

“I knew you’d come around.”

“Oh, yeah Sam, let's build a summer home out of the cabin that’s at the epicenter of every single 80’s horror movie.” You snarked, nudging his arm with your elbow. “Maybe if we’re lucky a portal to hell will open in the basement on nights when the stars align.”

“You know that is exactly how lucky we are.” Sam stated with another laugh, and it cured your depression, acne, and alcoholism all at once.

“Alright, call the realtor. Make ‘em an offer they can’t refuse.”

From about a hundred feet back the place certainly looked abandoned enough. Boards covered nearly every window, most of which were missing entire panes of glass either broken in or fallen out. And it was in serious need of a new paint job, and probably an exterminator- there was no way termites hadn’t taken up residence. Thinking about bugs slowly eating away the foundation of an entire house might not have been the best way to calm your nerves, but it was a better alternative to what you were most assuredly going to find.

The heavy duty padlock and iron chain around the front door did nothing but confirm your suspicions. It was never as easy an explanation as say- a tool shed! No. It was never a fucking tool shed. It was always a house of horrors. Body parts stuffed into jars. Body parts sans the jars. Always body parts. You should have picked a better- less morbid profession.

“Think you can crack it?” You asked, obviously he could. It was dumb to even ask, but Sam gave pause to ponder anyway. He scanned the area, then back to the lock, weighing options.

“Maybe. You go left, I’ll go right, see if we can find a more subtle way in.” He answered finally. Nodding in agreement you walked along the wall looking for a point of access that wouldn’t be so obvious that someone had gone inside. Because that’s exactly what you needed, pick the lock, go in, monster-person-thing comes back to find the chain missing right off the front door. Good point Sam.

More boarded up windows, and fragile wall you might have been able to put a fist clean through if you were curious enough. And jesus fuck if you were not curious. Putting a hand on the wall you gave a little push, and there was enough give that it only granted credibility to your theory, and a little more excitement than maybe was healthy. But who didn’t want to just full on kick in a fucking wall? Crazy people. That’s who. Though that would have been arguably way less subtle than just cracking open the padlock. The argument being the cabin was falling apart anyway. The human foot sized hole would have been slightly more difficult to explain, so you tucked the urge away in the back of your mind. Begrudgingly.

Carrying on you reached a cellar door, and a set of tiny windows lining the bottom of the cabin, one of them was busted nearly completely open. Yahtzee. With a quick chirping whistle you drew Sam’s attention who rounded the corner of the house to meet you. A casual toss of your head to the side let his eyes trail to the window you were looking at.

“There’s no way I’ll fit in that, I’m way too big.” He commented without missing a beat. You snorted a laugh, biting the inside of your lips into a flat line, closing your eyes and shaking your head. How many times had he said that in his life? When you regained more control of your face and opened your eyes again he was looking at you with that perfected bitch-face, which while oh-so-judgy was still pretty damn hot. You shrugged, proclaiming your innocence.

“What? I didn’t say anything!”

He didn’t have to respond, it was clear as day what you were thinking. He moved to the cellar doors, like a normal thinking person and pulled to no avail.

“Guess it’s locked from the inside there Buckaroo.” You said peering over his shoulder, his eyes cut to you, there was that bitch-face again. With a huff he stood upright, you always liked standing close enough to him to really let his height sink in. Sam always made you feel so tiny and small, and little, like his huge frame could just swallow you whole. Not that you ever spent entirely too much time thinking about how easily he could crush you in his toned, muscular, perfectly sunkissed arms or anything. Or how he could lift you off your feet and over his head like you weighed absolutely nothing. Focus!

The cellar doors wouldn’t open which meant your plan was the most viable one on the table. And if Sam couldn’t fit through that little window it left one option. You were going to have to do it. A shudder of distaste and resentment snaked up your back. You were going to have to crawl through some busted ass window, in some creepy ass basement of a creepy ass cabin in the middle of some creepy ass woods. And god only knew what you might find inside- human jars, jars made from humans, blood paint. Eyeball soup. Buffalo Bill. Who the fuck knew. Suddenly your plan seemed a lot less fun than it did a minute ago.

“Okay, welp. Guess I’m going in.” You said shaking the jitters out of your body through your hands. Sam would never tell you that he enjoyed watching you screw your courage to the sticking place, but it was absolutely entertaining. You were kind of like a kid in a play getting ready to go deliver a monologue at the crux of the plot, who had stage fright and were bouncing up and down offstage with nervous energy. He had to hand it to you, you never backed down, and there was no denying he admired your bravery. In another life you probably would have been a Teacher or Optometrist, or some kind of niche artist. Definitely something softer, much less gritty and gory. Not that you couldn’t handle yourself, he had no doubts about you and your iron will. But if the life hadn’t found you and made the decision for you, he simply couldn’t see you as the dirt-under-the-fingernails, willingly-crawling-into-a-dingy-hole-towards-almost-certain-peril kind of gal. The sarcasm and your unabashed weirdness though? That would stay. No matter what life you wound up in, most assuredly, those two staples of you would remain. He wouldn’t have you any other way though, he loved your odd sense of humor, and eccentricities.

Crouching at the window you tilted your head at a near painful angle trying to get a better view of what you were getting yourself in to. Without asking Sam handed you a flashlight, tucking it into your hand unannounced bringing your eyes to scan him over quizzically.

“Where were you hiding that?” You certainly hadn’t seen it earlier.

“Backpack?”

“Boy scout.” You teased, because of course he would have packed for everything, he probably had a compass tucked away in there somewhere too. Sam rolled his eyes, a dimple creasing his cheek as he turned his attention back to the window.

No obvious dead bodies, so that was a plus. After shining the light around you set your mind in stone and handed it back to him so you could shimmy in through the narrow pane. There was a pretty steep drop from the window to the floor in the basement so you laid on your back, squeezing your head and shoulders through first, giving yourself a chance to grab a long wooden beam above you to hold onto for leverage, and so you didn’t drop like a rock to the floor. With a final huff you pulled the rest of your body through the open window, acutely aware of the sharp pieces of jagged glass that jabbed you with every movement. Don’t think about the spider web you just stuck your hand in. Or the other creepy crawlies lurking in the shadows just waiting to scurry over your fingers or up the leg of your jeans. And do not think about the inevitable squishing sound the floor is going to make when you step into a pile of human organs. Once in your dropped your hold and landed on your feet, kicking up a thousand years worth of dust as you did. With a hacking cough and a wave of your hand you brushed the dirt out of your face to little avail.

“Anything interesting?” Sam asked from the window, shining the flashlight directly in your eyes. Scrunching up your face you tried to block it with your hand.

“I don’t know Sam. I’m blind now, so it’s a little hard to tell.”

“Right.” He realized and reached an arm through the window handing off the light to you. Shining it around you were pleasantly surprised to find it more or less empty. Old dusty shelves lined the walls full of boxes, and tools. No mason jars full of eyeballs. Yet. Lighting up the doors to the cellar from your side you were relieved that it was just barricaded by a simple wooden beam.

Setting the light on a shelf, aiming it at the doors you went and freed the plank of wood from its slot. Sam pulled the doors open from the other side, and closed them silently behind him, taking a moment to replace the wooden board, ever careful to cover his tracks.

“Mind the dust.” You said, grabbing the flashlight from its perch. “Hey, Sam.” The second you gained his attention you flashed the beam of light in his face. “See anything?”

“Ha, ha. I get it.” He snarked snatching the torch from you hand as you stifled a giggle.

Following his lead you continued to search the basement, turning up bupkis. Nothing out of the ordinary, just a bunch of old shit that no one had probably used since the Inn was built. Save for the nice little stash of Moonshine tucked under one of the shelves.

“Yeehaw.” You said popping open the lid to the mason jar and taking a whiff, quickly turning into a sputtered cough as your eyes and throat immediately started to burn. “Good god, you could strip paint with this.”

“Yeah? Go ahead and try it, tell me what gasoline tastes like.” Sam replied with a chuckle.

“I’m not gonna drink it. You drink it.”

“No way.”

“I’ll give you five bucks if you drink it.” You insisted, there was that perfect bitch-face again.

“You’d don’t have five bucks.”

“Wow, rude. You don’t have to rub it in.” You said with a pout, screwing the lid back on the jar and tucking it back into it’s spot. Once the basement was clear you headed upstairs which was unsettling. Nothing but ratty old furnishings, more than apparent that a family had in fact lived there, but just up and left one day. Antique dolls on an old rickety shelf, children’s toys on the floor, deer heads mounted on the walls. There were still untouched plates sitting on the side table, and a book left open for place keeping. Easily the most alarming thing was the back corner which had a mess of iron chains and cuffs, and a few giant meat hooks hanging.

“Still wanna turn this place into a summer home?” He asked, the light glinting off the iron chains.

“Just remember my safeword.” You quipped, biting back a gag from the rancid smell coming from what you could only assume was at one point a kitchen. A large black mass situated in the center of the floor where the odor was coming from caught your attention, forming a pit in your stomach, and you grabbed Sam by the wrist directing the light to where you needed it.

A voice from outside distracted you from making out the shape in the floor, someone was outside. Sam cut out the light, which helped neither of you to figure out where to go from there. Hand on the grip of your gun at your thigh you waited for the inevitable stand-off as the chain on the outside of the front door rattled, lock falling away. Sam’s large hands covered your mouth and snaked around your waist as he pulled you backwards and into the crawl-space beneath the staircase. With a free hand you hooked your fingers around the frame of the slatted closet door and pulled it closed silently.

The storage area he pulled you into had to be the world’s tiniest storage space, if it were just you in there it might have been fine. But with Sam’s huge form crowding what little space was available it was awkward to say the least. The sharp incline of the stairs had his broad shoulders pressed against the flat of the ceiling, and the rest of him hunched over you practically bending you in half backwards. One hand pressed against the wall above your head, and legs at a crooked and unstable angle below you you were banking on him to keep you upright. With his arm tucked firmly at your back and his other arm outstretched to keep himself steady, hand flat against the wall behind your head it was all he could do to fit into the space with you. You were flexible enough, generally speaking, but you were not a contortionist and the Cirque du Soleil act he just crammed you into was… less than comfortable.

The front door opened and you could no longer lament about your tight quarters.

“No, I heard you.” Came a man’s voice, you tugged a finger on the slats of the door trying your damndest to sneak a peek through them, which was near impossible with Sam’s forearm against your jaw. Not that you minded so much, he was warm, and he smelled so nice it was distracting, like coffee, and vanilla, and cinnamon. He held you flush against him in a hard line down the length of his chest and abdomen, tucked between his solid thighs. Made you all tingly in the nether region, but there was no time for you to focus on his firm he was. Or the feel of his breath hot against your neck forming goosebumps on your skin. Or how the long strands of his hair tickled your cheek, and how you’d always wanted to know how soft it would feel knotted in your fingers. Or how hard your heart was pounding in your chest a little too excited to be so close to him.

“I said I heard you. It’ll be taken care of.” The Man said again, irritated. It was so dark in the cabin you couldn’t make out a thing, and you were trusting your instincts to tell you relatively where he was based on where his voice was coming from. “You just worry about your damn self, and let me do my fucking job. Or you can deal with it, but something tells me you don’t like getting your hands dirty...Yeah. That’s what I thought you’d say.”

Then there was silence, followed by a series of footsteps, heavy boots, going from the spot in the center of the room towards the kitchen. The sounds of rustling plastic, and a slow choppy drag of something weighty across the floor.

Your arm above your head was starting to cramp, and the way he had you bent backwards was already painful. Bracing yourself against the wall you twisted your body until your back was flush against his chest, careful to remain as silent as you could. Sam shifted to try to give you some room but, the poor man had nowhere to go. Under different circumstances he would not have minded your ass pressing against him in all the right places. But this was neither the time nor the place to get caught up in the scent of your shampoo, or the soft curves of your body moving against the hard lines of his. You shifted again, just trying to get a better view of what little there was to be seen through the slats in the door, but the friction of your movements was impossible to ignore. One large hand splayed out flat, low on your stomach between your hip bones keeping you still enough for him to keep his mind focused on anything other than the growing tension pooling in his core.

The feel of his hand sitting dangerously low over your jeans made heat bloom in your cheeks and elsewhere and at the moment you were grateful for the pitch black. The front door creaked open and the rustling plastic stopped long enough for it to shut again and be replaced by the sound of jingling chains and a padlock being reattached. Waiting until you were in the clear enough to make an exit from the tiny crawl-space was seemed to take forever, but at the same time it wasn’t like you were in much of a huge rush to move. After all you were a little more than content to stay exactly where you were. Sam let out a sigh, his forehead dropping to rest against the back of your neck, his warm breath sending a tingle down your spine.

“See anything?” His tone low and smooth, as if he was unbothered by the cramped quarters.

“Nothing.” There was no hiding your disappointment. The conversation you’d overheard was certainly of interest however. Pushing the door open you slipped out of the crawl-space. The drag of his long fingers over the bare skin peeking between the rise of your jeans and hem of your t-shirt sending sparks of electricity directly to your center. Sam stepped out behind you, having to adjust himself in his jeans, he could think more about the feel of holding you that close later, and he would be.

The flashlight clicked on and both of you moved directly to the kitchen which yielded- nothing.

Swatting your hands against your thighs in frustration you let out an irritated groan. The sink was backed up with blackwater, and the floor was mushy from water damage sourced from a hole in the ceiling. But there were no body parts. The lack thereof was starting to bother you, which was not a feeling you’d thought to anticipate. No one wanted to find human remains, but more than anything you just wanted to find some fucking human remains! Gank the bad guy, stop the killings, go home, take a hot bath and boom. You would be on your way to Netflix and sleep. But no! Of course it wasn’t that simple.

Upstairs was equally unfruitful. Although an unmade and dingy bed, along with some foul smelling clothes was more proof than needed that someone was living there still. Your money was on the guy you’d just heard downstairs.

The only problem left was how to get back out of the house without letting it be known they had been there. Someone would have to put the wooden board back in the cellar door-you. But you also weren’t quite tall enough to climb back through the window in the basement. There was, however, a wide open window in the bedroom, and Sam beat you to it.

“Ever thought about jumping out a window?”

“You read my mind.” You answered unenthusiastically. He pressed his forearm against the frame gauging just how far down the drop would be, deciding it was plenty safe. But you did not agree. “You’re kidding right?”

“It’s not that far.” He justified, but you were not having it. A twenty foot drop might not have seemed like much for him, but that extra foot he had on you made a hell of a difference. Not to mention the fact that he was a large wall of solid muscle, while you were small, soft and had squishy insides.

“Okay, sure- for you maybe, Gigantor. I jump down there I’m looking at a broken leg, or worse.”

“You’re not going to break your leg.” Sam reassured you, but the flat and unamused expression on your face was not something he’d be able to cut through that easily. A large hand slid along your jawline, warm and comforting. “I’ll catch you.”

You could have melted into a puddle on the spot. It really wouldn’t have taken anything more than a slight breeze to make your knees crumple beneath you. The genuine sweetness in his eyes made you forget how to breathe. Trying to get a handle on yourself, unless you drowned in those kaleidoscope eyes you scoffed. “Yeah right.”

“I promise.” He said, gaze intense and confident. Beyond shadow of a doubt you trusted him, you were sure you were also going to regret it, but you were about to find out.

“Okay.” You agreed, a little baffled that you were just going to jump out a window and trust him to break your fall. He turned to go out first, but you grabbed his arm, bringing his attention back to you, all nerves again. “Sam. You drop me and I swear once I’m out of the hospital you’re in for a world of hurt.”

Sam flashed you a dimpled smile and dropped out the window, landing on his feet, making it look easy. Of course, he always made it look easy. He was graceful and agile, like a cat. You on the other hand- not so much. You sucked in a breath and leaned out the window waiting for him to ready himself. It wasn’t the first window you’d jumped out of, not by a long shot. But any other time you were escaping with zero hesitation about what was on the other side, no time to think about it. Quick thinking jump, or die, so there was little room to question the best alternative. But you kind of just wanted to try to boost yourself through the window in the basement right about then.

“This is so stupid.” You hushed, rocking on your heels. He turned up to you, arms outstretched. Sucking in a breath you hoped you aimed right, and stepped out the window, slamming your eyes shut and bracing yourself for impact.

Impact came but it wasn’t you busting your ass on solid ground. Sam made good on his word and caught you, but you had a little thing called momentum and just kept going, practically tackling him to the floor below. He hit the dirt on his back, his arms wrapped firm around you. Eyes wide you sat up immediately, waiting for the inevitable ‘Oh god, I think you broke my rib!’ to come but he just laid out for a moment, and brought two thumbs up, head tipped back to catch the breath you surely knocked out of him.

“Hey, this was your idea.” You defended. He nodded with an exasperated grin, hands falling to rest high on your thighs where you straddled his waist. It didn’t take but a split second for you to relish the position you’d found yourself in, and took only another split second more for the wave of embarrassment to flood, as you scrambled to your feet. Not that you wouldn’t have minded staying perched on his hips a little longer, or much longer. But it was Sam, and you already shouldn’t have been thinking about him like that, and you were also a professional with a job to do, which meant you didn’t have time to wrap your brain in fantasies. No matter how mouth-wateringly tantalizing they were.

He took your outstretched hand to help him to his feet, and dusted off the foliage he picked up. When you turned away to look at your surroundings he took a moment to adjust himself once again. That was twice now he’d had you exactly where he’d wanted you, at exactly the wrong times.

Heavy fog began to roll in through the trees, and with it that sickening cold chill rolled up your spine, and you found yourself edging just a little closer to him.

“It’ll be dark soon. We should get back to the Inn.” You suggested, but it was more of a warning. The woods were telling you to get out, and you weren’t one to ignore the signs anymore.

Tags:

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@mogaruke

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@alexwinchester23

@notnaturalanahi

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[tigerlilliz]

"Miss you"-- Moonlight at Caesar's

Trying not to do actual work so I thought why not type up my latest daydream. Some motivation until the hiatus is over. I also wanted to focus on the more gentle side of the MC. Hope you guys like it.

Ut umm lol

Yet another party for Caesar and it seems everyone whose everyone is in attendance.

Antony grabs a drink before making his way through the crowds. "Antony! Praise Antony" rings as he ventures inside. He nods to greet Cleopatra who is surrounded by several male admirers. One, in particular, whose lap she sits upon as she runs her fingers down his back and up his arms. She seems more interested in her conquests then spending time with Caesar. Antony looks away continuing on until he reaches Caesar who is standing by the door looking out at the garden from the kitchen. Antony joins him canvasing the room as he notices everyone is laughing and drinking heavily as the tell stories of Caesar's recent victories.

Antony: "They seem to be enjoying themselves. Does Rome not provide all that you need?"

There must be hundreds in attendance, gifts laid out all around, your pick of anything imaginable, but Caesar continues to peer his head outside without breaking his gaze. Antony's eyes follow to see what has Caesar so memorized. He soon sees a familiar site. The MC is sitting alone in a beautiful white gown with gold accents and flowers neatly placed throughout her hair. She was more beautiful than he remembered.

Caesar: "She's feisty, that one. Yet there's a softness about her that I wasn't expecting given her time in Gaul. She has the run of the whole villa before she entertains me tonight. A pick of whatever man she wants to be in her company during the festivities, but yet she seeks seclusion and serentity. There's something intriguing about that."

They both looks at MC whose sitting by herself outside near the fountain. There are small groups spread out, some gathered near the garden as others admire the statues across the labyrinth. Yet none seem to be as at peace as her. She glances at the sky as the moonlight creates an aluring ambience around her. She always had a certain glow to her to begin with, an aura that made people want to get to know her. She was kind, genuinely so, someone you knew your life would be better simply by having around. The fire within her was just a treat for those who dared to get close enough to see. She sits with a journal on her lap, occasionally picking at the plate of fruit from the buffet beside her.

Caesar licks his lips and adds, "She does seem to have quite a knack for handling grapes, wouldn't you say?" He pauses as if he is imagining all the things he can have her to to him later that night.

They glance as the MC slowly sucks a grape off the vine from her plate. She takes her time with it, licking the juices as it drips holding out long enough to survey its size before biting down. She's enjoying it as if each bite took her mind somewhere else.

As she comes to, she's caught off guard as she realizes Antony's watching. Frozen where he stands, his mouth had dropped and he is now attempting to regain his composure. He scrambles to pick up his drink before Caesar notices. As she looks up, her eyes meet Caesar's whose lust is more evident then he originally let on.

Antony had a look of longing in eyes. He whispered to himself, "Desi" as his eyes looked down. He knew he couldn't linger too long fearing Caesar would catch on to how he truly feels. Antony skillfully bounces back hesitantly chuckling to himself he replies, "I told you I only provide the best. You're a lucky man."

She pretends as if she doesnt notice that the attention is now on her every move. The man she wished was beside her was now only a few feet away. And somehow, that was enough for her. It had been far too long since she last saw him and it appears the spark between them remained the same.

She stood up making sure to slowly bend over to pick up her napkin off the ground. Her dress form fitting enough to capture every curve.

Caesar (still looking at her plump breasts) didnt realize the quick exchange between the two. She turned back locking eyes with Antony mouthing, "Miss you" smiling to herself before heading inside to join the others. Antony relaxed into a smile knowing she still chose him after all this time.

In a few hours, she would have to entertain Caesar again. But atleast she had renewed motivation to continue on. She had never seen Antony as handsome as he was that night. And seeing him was exactly what she needed. She knew that she still occupied his thoughts and remained in his heart. There was something empowering about that. If she had to tend to Caesar privately, she could envision Antony while doing so. Though her time with Caesar has made her body tired and left her mind racing, her spirit remained unbroken. A warrior because of the fight left within her. And, therefore, she would wait for as long as it took for another chance to be by Antony's side and in his arms...again.

[reyloforcebalance]

Bonded Chapter 32: Head and Heart

The newest chapter to my Reylo fanfic (rated T). If you want to check out the previous chapters, here’s the link to AO3!

“Wait…” Colonel Vaden leans over the table. “None of them went off?”

“None.” General Petrov sits back in his chair.  

“But…” Colonel Russo turns to the General. “What about the explosion on the South side? Wasn’t that one of them?”

“No.” Petrov shakes his head. “That was just some of the scum trying to escape, blocking off our troops so they could weasel their way out of the mines.” He grunts. “We caught them halfway to the Silver, neutralized them.”

Vaden narrows his eyes.

“So…” He starts slowly. “What happened? They just malfunctioned? All of them?”

“Well, that’s the interesting part.” Petrov sits up now. “According to the explosives team, they were diffused.”

“Diffused?” Vaden cocks his head.

“That’s the report.”

“And it wasn’t them?” Russo scoots forward. “It wasn’t your team?”

“Definitely not.” Petrov turns his head. “The first thing they did when we cracked into the base was go straight into the mines. But by the time they got there…” He lifts a hand.  

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Russo looks down.

“Or maybe it does.” Petrov turns to the colonel.

“How?” Russo demands. “There was no one down there who could’ve done such a thing.”

“No one…?” The General raises an eyebrow.

Vaden scoffs.

“Are you suggesting…” He leans in with air of condescension. “That the slaves diffused the bombs?”

“Who else could it have been?”

“Really?” Russo grunts. “You think those gutter rats are even capable?”

“Maybe.” Petrov shrugs. “It’s the only explanation that makes sense.”

“But…” Vaden flits his head. “Even assuming they had the capability, how did they get it done so quickly? The mines are miles long, and they had no way of knowing we’d be here.”

“They had time.” The General waves a hand. “Especially since the explosives were rigged on a grid. Looks like the delay you ordered paid off, sir.” Petrov twists to the Supreme Leader.

He stands facing the console, unmasked, his back to the group.

But he doesn’t respond to the General.

He just stands there.

Listening…

“Well,” Russo lets out a sigh. “I suppose it’s possible. We would’ve drawn all the scum to the base this morning, cleared out the mines. Maybe that was all they needed. Who knows?” He purses his lips. “Maybe our benevolence to the slaves is starting to pay off…?”

“Or maybe they just heard about Kaller,” Vaden adds dryly.

“Either way,” Petrov sits up. “I think we’ve learned something today. These slaves…” He taps the table. “Could be useful to us as more than just a publicity stunt. I say we send out a team to the operational camp tomorrow, start questioning them, find out more about—”

“No.” The Supreme Leader turns abruptly. “We have more important matters to attend to.” He begins pacing the room.

“But, sir—”

“Vaden, I want you to start extraction on the East end.” Kylo ignores the General. “Stay away from the operational camp and away from the base.”

“Yes, sir.” The colonel nods. “The teams are ready; the equipment is here. We’ll start at first light.”

“Good.” Kylo continues pacing. “Russo, how long until the camp is ready for intake?”

The younger colonel sighs.

“Definitely not tomorrow.” He widens his eyes. “We barely finished set-up today. These slaves are very uncooperative. My troops had the worst time wrangling them. Half of them kept trying to wander off, refused to—”

“How long, colonel?”

Russo sits up, clearing his throat.

“Three days, sir. Assuming the slaves stay put and follow orders.”

“Make it two,” The Supreme Leader commands curtly.

Russo shrinks a bit.

“Petrov, what’s the latest intel on Ranc’s presence in the Silver?”

“Last I heard…” The General leans forward. “The gang’s headquarters took in only a few from the smaller bases, no more than a hundred. The rest of the scum are holed up in a canyon on the west side of the planet. Sources tell us they’ve got an armory there, but not a large one, nothing that could threaten us.”

“Is the canyon…” The Supreme Leader turns to the General. “Populated with civilians?”  

Petrov purses his lips.

“I…” He starts slowly. “Think there are a few sand tribes nearby. But they stay clear of the armory. Ranc makes certain of that.”

“Good.” Kylo continues pacing. “Then I want you to bury them. Start with a round of aerial assaults in the morning.”

“With pleasure.” The General sits back with a smirk. “And the Silver?”

“Set up a perimeter around the headquarters,” he commands. “And be subtle about it. I don’t want Ranc catching on before we evacuate the city.”

“Yes, sir.” Petrov straightens. “I’ll send in a stealth unit at dawn. I can even send them tonight, if you like.”

“No.” The Supreme Leader stops in front of the console. “There’s only one more thing I want from you tonight. All of you.” He turns to face the men at the table.

They all look at him, ready and alert.

Kylo stares coolly for a moment.

“Get some sleep,” he says finally.

The men visibly relax.

“You’re dismissed.” He turns to the console. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Russo’s shoulders drop in relief.

“Yes, sir.”

The men scoot back from the table, rising and filing swiftly into the hall of the ship.

The door whirs shut behind them.

Kylo listens as their footsteps recede.

He stands, perfectly still, until he hears them fade away.

Then he snatches the comm at his belt, bringing it to his lips.

“What’s the word from 928-C?” He demands.

He lowers the device, waiting.

“He’s on his way, sir.” The response crackles in. “He’ll arrive at the shuttle in five minutes.”

Kylo lets out a long exhale, like he’s been holding it in all day.  

“Clear the ship.” He commands into the comm. “I want everybody out before he gets here. Tell the guard to let Bonden and his guest in, then close the shuttle until morning.”

“Yes, sir.”

Kylo steps to the right console, setting the comm next to his mask. He pulls off his gloves, casting them on the counter, then turns to the meeting table.

He pulls out a chair, taking a seat slowly, a wave of exhaustion setting in as he does.

But the feeling doesn’t last long.

He sits up, swelling with anticipation, tempered only by a hint of uncertainty.  

For a split second, the image flashes, the last time he saw Rey— her eyes pleading with his, tears streaming down her cheeks.

But he quickly buries the memory, banishing it to the edges of his mind, nothing left but a trace of regret.

He looks down, his jaw twitching.

He hates the way things ended last time he saw her. But it’s not an interaction he’s keen to dwell on.  

So instead, he just wonders what she’ll be like when she sees him, reviewing the possibilities in his mind.

Will she be cold, keeping him at arm’s length?

Not likely, given what he knows about her.

At the very least, she’ll be on guard, her senses heightened.

She’ll take her cue from him.

He takes a deep breath.

It’s been driving him crazy all day, sensing her nearby, wondering, waiting…

He sits back with a sigh, shaking his head briskly, redirecting his thoughts to the only thing that can distract him.

Today was more than a success.

It was a turning point.

Petrov isn’t the only one convinced that the slaves diffused the bombs. He’s been overhearing talk all day— colonels, lieutenants, squad leaders— considering their treatment of the slaves as an investment, their best guard against this new trend of spiteful self-destruction.

He can’t wait for this kind of talk to get back to the Supremacy.

This should shut Hux up, or at least counter all his pissing and moaning about wasting resources.

He drums his fingers on the table.

Yes, today went very well.

The First Order suffered minimal casualties. The varium mines are theirs, practically untouched.

And he must admit… Rey’s team did good work. He never imagined they’d diffuse all the bombs on top of getting the slaves out unharmed.

Things seem to have gone smoothly for them. Most everyone was out of the mines by the end of the battle, and she didn’t run into trouble that affected her vitals. He’s been monitoring them closely the past few days, trying not to think about her stuck underground, surrounded by cutthroats.

She can handle herself. He just needs to keep remembering that.

He was careful to modify the protocol on her tracker, just for the day, keep it from getting picked up by troopers. He can’t have them wondering why a slave is on the First Order’s no kill/ no injury list…  

Yes, everything worked out perfectly.

He leans back in his chair, swelling with satisfaction.

This is it. The first step.

Rey’s ascending, whether she realizes it or not, ascending to the position she was meant to fill.  

A few more of these invasions and she’ll start to see, to recognize the opportunity that lies before her, all she could do with the resources of the First Order at her back.

She’ll start to see what the First Order really is, all it could become with her at his side.

He’ll need to encourage her, listen to her, get her input on improvements— how to make things smoother, faster, better.

And the more they work together, the more she gets a taste of true power—

Suddenly, his thoughts grind to a halt.

He sits up, his senses heightened.

The next instant, he shoots out of his chair, striding to his comm.

“928-C has arrived, sir.”

The announcement comes in just as he snatches the device.

“Let him in.”

He sets the comm on the counter, surging with anticipation.

He turns to the door, clasping his hands behind him.

A minute later, he hears footsteps ascending the ship, followed shortly by the loading ramp closing with a clang.

The sound of chatter wafts down the hall. As the footsteps get closer, he starts to make out the words…

“You’re kidding?” Sylas is saying.

“Nope.” Rey sounds sure of herself, as per usual. “We got out of there in less than a week, took about thirty with us.”

“No way.” He pictures Sylas shaking his head. “No one gets out of the spice mines on Kessel. No one.”

“If you don’t believe me, I’d be happy to introduce you to some of the rescues. They’ll tell you all about it.”

They stop in front of the door.

“Yeah, sure,” Sylas says wryly. “I’ll just drop by a Resistance base, let you show me around.”

“You’re welcome any time.”

Sylas grunts.

The comm crackles as he activates it.  

“This is Sylas Bonden with uh…” He pauses. “A delivery?”

Kylo shakes his head.

He leans over, pressing a panel by the console.  

The door whirs open.

Sylas snaps to attention, his arms going rigid at his sides.

“Sir,” he greets. “Permission to—”

“Granted.”

Sylas nods, then steps into the room.

Rey follows close behind, draped in a brown cloak, lowering the hood as she enters.

“I, uh…” Sylas points to Rey. “Found her.”

“I can see that,” Kylo says evenly. “Did you have any trouble?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “It was easy. We got stopped by some troopers but Rey just…” He purses his lips. “Kinda…” He squints. “Convinced them to leave us alone.” He waves a hand mysteriously.

Kylo glances at Rey.

She shrugs.

“Good.” He steps forward. “Sylas, you’re done for the day.”

“Are you sure?” He tilts his head. “Because I can still do stuff. I’m not at all tired.” He stifles a yawn as he says this.

Kylo grunts.

“Sylas.” He walks over to him. “Go to bed.” He takes his arm, ushering him to the door.

“Well…” He sighs like he’s conceding. “I guess if you’re sure you don’t need me.”

“I need you…” Kylo takes him into the hall. “To get some sleep. The bunks are yours.” He points to the front of the ship. “Be up at 0600. You’re going back to Borosk in the morning.”

“Oh, good.” Sylas blinks sleepily. “I’ve still got a lot work to do with those pirates.”

“Worry about that tomorrow.” Kylo lifts a hand to his shoulder. “Right now, just focus on getting rest.”

“Ok.” Sylas nods. “I can do that.” He smiles. “Goodnight, sir.”

“Goodnight.” Kylo moves a hand to his back, pushing him forward.  

Sylas makes his way down the hall, Kylo watching as he goes, waiting until he ducks into a room to the left.  

Then he shifts to the conference center.

Rey’s standing next the meeting table, facing the back console, her cloak and pouch draped over a chair.

Kylo walks into the room, pressing a panel on the wall.

Rey turns at the sound of the door.  

She tilts her head, studying him for a moment.

Then, a slow smile creeps across her lips.

The next instant, she lunges forward.

Kylo jerks back, barely reacting in time to catch her as she leaps into his arms, wrapping her legs around him.

She kisses him passionately, then pulls back with a huge grin, absolutely beaming.

“Was it not perfect?” She gushes. “Did everything not go exactly according to plan? Better even?”

Kylo gapes, caught off guard.

“Oh, come on!” Rey goads, dropping to the floor. “We diffused all the bombs. You have to be just slightly impressed, right?” She bounces a little, impatient for a response.

Kylo just stares, adjusting to the shock of the greeting.

Her face falls.

“Are you…?” She shifts a bit. “Are you still upset because—”

“NO,” he practically barks.

She flinches.

“Because…” She squints a little. “I’ve felt just awful since—”

“Rey.” He twitches. “Let’s just…” He takes a short breath. “Drop it. Ok?”

“Ok,” she whispers.

She presses her lips together, a little bruised.

Kylo softens.

He lifts hand to her face, grazing her cheek with the backs of his fingers.

She relaxes, a smile returning to her lips.

His fingers caress her skin, then drift to her chin, tilting it up as he descends.

He meets her with a kiss, a lingering one, reveling in the sensation, how just the touch of her sweeps everything away, like a good night’s sleep.  

He pulls back, tracing the curve of her jaw.

“You…” He drops his hand. “Did excellent work today.”

Her face lights up.

“I know!” She bounces. “I mean, it really did go exactly the way we planned.”

He smiles, slipping his hands around her waist.

Read the rest on A03!

[ghostandblog]

Talking about Movies

FF / AO3

Summary: Bored in the library, Hannah and Barbara play a small game thinking about their friends.

Pairing: Sucy/Akko, Hannah/Amanda, Barbara/Lotte ( all characters are mentioned but not all appear, this is mostly about H&B talking).

Word count: 1,890

“Alright, let’s start with…Diana.”

Hannah’s tone is low, almost like a whisper, despite the library being pretty much empty. She looks at her friend with an inquisitive look.

Barbara rests her hand on her chin, with a concentrated expression as she thinks of their overachieving roommate. She considers her proper body posture, aristocrat upbringing, and the way she always goes for the most complex words at the moment of talking, which Barbara was sure it was a conscious decision on her part. It reminds her of black and white films, stories of powerful yet vulnerable heroes, beautifully designed yet simple dresses, and a sense of elegance that is just absent in most modern movies. With a clear answer on her mind, she looks back at Hannah.

“Diana would be… Classic Hollywood.”

Hannah raises her eyebrow a little bit. “That’s an odd connection.”

“Not at all, it makes perfect sense. Think of her as…Gone with the Wind or Citizen Kane”. Once she figures that her redheaded friend is convinced, she clasps her fingers together with a small smirk. “Alright, my turn. Give me a movie genre for… Amanda.”

Hannah narrows her eyes for a moment. “Amanda…Amanda would be adventure films. Movies that provide an… exciting sense of wonder. Purposely throwing yourself to danger in order to find new experiences, marvelously choreographed action scenes. You know, stories about the discoveries of ancient secrets and hidden treasures that also would lead to the discovery of…new aspects of yourself.” Hannah feels her lips forming a smile, then looks at Barbara’s grinning expression and worries that she may have flattered their american classmate a bit too much. “B-but there would not be, like, anything meaningful in them! always B-rated flicks with zero substance, yeah! That’s Amanda.”

She looks around them, worried that maybe she spoke a little too loud, but finds the library as empty as it was when they came for their now-paused study session. Hoping that her blush isn’t too noticeable, Hannah points at Barbara.

“Your turn now! Constanze?”

Barbara giggles a little bit, this was definitely a no-brainer. “Well duh, science fiction movies!” Giant robots, scientists working on their laboratories creating complex machines. Barbara entertains the idea that the short girl’s birthplace and silent nature is reminiscent of german expressionism cinema, but she knows she may be reaching with that one. “Jasminka?”

Hannah lets out a mocking chuckle. “I dunno. The cooking channel?”. After both share a small laugh, she tries to give a more thoughtful response. “But like, seriously, there is a sort of…warmth in her, you know? Always offering a tiny bit of what she’s eating, always with that calm smile of hers, it kind of reminds me of those feel-good movies that you watch as a kid with your parents, the ones with happy endings no matter what, or no matter how cheesy. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, if you will.”

Barbara nods, not really having anything to add.

Hannah raises her eyebrow again, this time placing a hand under her chin. “Now what would Lotte be?”

Barbara’s mind goes back to the finnish girl and remembers how she got to know her better thanks to their shared interest in Nightfall. She thinks of impossible love stories, star-crossed lovers, and above all, stories of girls that at some point may have been perceived as plain-looking or invisible, but later prove themselves beautifully unique and irreplaceable to the eyes of the previously dismissive hero. Unlike Hannah, she is not ashamed of her blushing face neither tries to hide it. She lets out a sigh before speaking.

“Lotte would be romance. Definitely.”

“Hehe. Of course she would.”

“You now. How about…Kagari?”

Hannah blinks, not really sure what to say at first, then finds a clear answer just by looking at Barbara’s smirk, knowing for sure that she is thinking the same thing as her.

“Comedy!”, they both say almost in unison, covering the giggling with their hands, more like a habit than a genuine attempt at keeping it quiet.

Atsuko Kagari. Always tripping over something, always making a mistake in her potions that resulted in some kind of explosion and her face covered in ashes. It’s like she was born to make every situation around her funny, and her almost negative intellect didn’t help, either. Everything she did was a source of laughs. Comedy certainly suited her alright.

Hannah wipes a small tear from her eye after laughing maybe a little too much, remembering it was her turn to ask.

“Okay Barb, what about creepy Susie?”

“Yeah. What about me?”

The monotone tone of voice is familiar, but the surprise is still there when they turn around and see the figure of a pale girl with long purple hair, her only visible eye looking directly at them with a tired expression, bangs covering the other one.

Hannah tries to stand back almost instinctively, accidentally tripping with one of her feet and falling out of her chair in a very unflattering manner, not unlike the way of the clumsy girl they were laughing at recently.

Barbara remains sitting where she is, petrified, with her hands placed in front of her as if she were trying to stop a sudden attack coming from Sucy. She attempts to keep her cool, but still can feel the sweat on the back of her neck.

Sucy just stands there, her expression unfazed. Is only the slow, uninterested way she blinks that reminds Hannah and Barbara that the girl standing before them is still alive (as far as they know).

“S-sucy! Hannah and I were just, we-” Still doing her best to keep whatever remains of her composure, Barbara hopes that she can get them out of there alive by sweet-talking somehow.

“How long have you been just STANDING there!?” Hannah’s usual temper doesn’t make it easy for Barbara, though.

Sucy just gives her a quick, dismissive glance, before looking directly at Barbara, who is now wishing that her sweating isn’t as noticeable as she thinks it is.

“So? What movie genre I am?”

“Ah! Well, we- uhm, we thought that you, erm, obviously-”

As Barbara attempts to form a coherent lie, Sucy just gets closer to the point that their faces are mere inches to each other, as if to remind her that there would not be a way out of this unless she tells her what she wants to know.

“Answer the question. Which one I am?”

Barbara lets out a loud gulp. She can’t really think of a convincing lie, so she decides to just answer honestly, ready to face the lavender witch’s wrath.

“Horror. I…i was gonna say that you would be a horror movie.”

Her expression doesn’t change for the next seconds that to Barbara, felt like hours. Then a smile seems to form on her lips, just enough to let Barbara know that she was amused by her answer.

“Haha. Neat.”

“Yo, Sucy! Hurry up! I already found the book that Lotte asked us to get!”

Hearing the familiar, loud voice that doesn’t even try to pretend to be in a place meant for silence and studying, the three girls look at the other end of the library, where Akko is waving at them while holding an old, dusty book on her other hand. Sucy looks back at Hannah and Barbara, wearing the same uninterested expression as before.

“Gotta go now”.

Feeling like she dodged a mushroom-shaped bullet, Barbara tries to keep the tiny bit of composedness that she barely had, but lets out a deep breath the very moment Sucy turns back and goes to where Akko is. She keeps looking at their direction, though, if only to make sure that the creepy girl actually leaves and doesn’t have any kind of last card, snake or potion under her sleeve. While hearing them chat as they walk, Barbara can notice, once again, how Sucy’s body language changes just a little bit when walking alongside Akko.

“Hey Suz, what were you doing with Hannah and Barbara just now?”

“Eh. We were just talking.”

“About what?”

As they leave the library, the two blue team members can’t hear their conversation anymore. Hannah, still shaking due to their near-Sucy experience, tries to regain her collectedness and opens her books again without saying anything, willing to forget anything related to the game they were playing to slack off studying. Barbara’s attention is somewhere else, still looking at the door even after the two girls are no longer there.

If Barbara had to be honest, she didn’t particularly care for either of them… even if Lotte was still trying to get her to know them better. But despite her own indifference, she couldn’t deny that there was something…charming in how the weird, creepy, and off-putting girl with lavender hair managed to develop a soft spot for the clumsiest girl in school, and how it was hard to ignore given that she herself managed to notice certain patterns as she was looking for stuff to make fun of them. Back when she still found enjoyment in bullying the three red team members, she considered the idea to tease Sucy about her potential feelings towards her roommate, but even then her own sense of survival knew better than that.

The expression on her face softens up just a tiny bit, enough for Hannah to notice when she turns to talk to her again.

“Did you know, that despite how different and irreconcilable they may seem, the horror and comedy genres have a lot in common? Many film and literally critics agree on that.”

Hannah just looks at her with a confounded expression.

“Huh?”

“If you pay attention, you would notice how many of the most acclaimed horror movies have a little bit of comedy in them. Not even as a foil, mostly as…a small piece that you didn’t know it would be missing. Something that you never thought would fit, but it does amazingly so. Yes, comedy and horror movies can exist on their own and work perfectly fine alone…”, pausing her words for a moment, she looks for her notes scrapped on the table to resume her studies, “…But is only when placed alongside with comedy that the horror genre gets to truly shine to its full potential.”

“What the heck are you going on about now?”

As if taken back from a trance, Barbara blinks a little, then just shrugs.

“I guess I just thought it was interesting.” She says almost instantly forgetting why that particular comparison came to her mind. “What about us though?”

“Ah?”

“Yeah, what movie genre would we be?”

Hannah scratches her head. She considers the options left, even if at this point she is not really interested to keep playing the little game they both made up. “I dunno. Animation?”

Seemingly considering the answer for a moment, Barbara lets out a dismissive laugh while opening one of her books. “Ha! As if.”

“Yeah, you are right. I’m not a big fan of cartoons, in all honesty.” Hannah says as she thinks of repetitive Saturday-morning animated shows, the ones with talking animals wearing funny clothes, stock sound effects, and the same background scene over and over. “Is just stuff for little kids anyway. Like, who has time for that kind of crap?”

A/N:

Hannah and Barbara being named after Hanna-Barbera will never not be funny to me.

Has something like this been done before? at first i wanted to compare the characters to music genres and bands but besides picking Kraftwerk for Constanze i've got nothing. Kinda not very really convinced how this one turned out, but still, i think is better to just publish it instead of letting it accumulate metaphorical dust in my drafts forever lol. I think I also better look for some beta readers for my next fic, i have a couple of other unfinished ideas even if I am not really sure what do…writing-wise? Guess we’ll see.

Amanda being Hannah’s gay awakening is a really cute concept. Is really growing on me!

Still, thank you for reading! Hope you all enjoyed this.

[icharchivist]

perso-rant underneath and at first i intended it to be more light hearted but welp cant dive into myself without digging the bad stuff so just ignore this as rambling.

(idk if the cut works on mobile so as usual blacklist #ichapersonal to skip it , its quite long)

its night and im noisy and all but yknow part of the reason m/lb is such a healing show for me and i rewatch it every couple of days?

i cry everytime M.arinette's family is on screen pretty badly bc i get so envious all the time. i hate my shitty family (and often can relate to A.drien's ressentment) so just seeing such a /healthy/ family being often shown litterally brings me to tears. im like C.hat in the animan episode when he stares at the family picture with a sweet smile (another detail that stupidly make me cry who allowed th i s)

like. i dont relate to A.drien's relation to his family but some of the emotional effects is often a moment of "welp. mood." and being kinda sad /for him/ even if i can feel it for myself too. but then with M.arinette's family everytime they get to be on screen i realize how happy this sort of dynamic makes me and it makes me /so envious/.

like my mom is an artist and an excellent cook but she always barred those interests from me bc it was /hers/ and it was for /her ego/ and this attitude just killed every curiosity i had and remplaced it with a complete unability to care.

i used to bake as a kid but my mom was always shutting down everything i was doing, and if i was asking for help or recieps she would just tell le "it's a secret just watch " and never letting me know tf she was doing so i stopped lmao. everytime ive tried meals since it was only for myself and with a hard mocking from family and mom saying she had a better recieps and i should just let her do so i dont even try it often. (moreeven now that the kitchen is opened to the living room and they're super judgemental when im in it)

i was messing with drawings and paints in her workshop when i was a kid but she would always point out flaws and take my tools to correct it without telling nor showing me how and it killed it, it took me until my 14yo to start doing mindless doodles and then my breakdown when i was about 20 to seriously try back to draw and do art and try different tools (until my right hand made it impossible for me to hold a tool and the failure still feels yknow)

i wanted to sew things and make clothes (at the time for my dolls) but my mom was never letting me touch the tools (that we HAD since not only she made clothes but her mom actually had a fabrique shop. like. right next door. i think it became part of my mom's trauma hating her mom and refusing us to connect with her, more so with what happened when i was 7 and we lost contact with them but still, the damn irony. and i cant remember if my grandma ever let me close her sewing material but i was a damn kid after all) so this is another thing i didnt pursue

i wanted to pick up music (piano mostly) bc my uncle is a musician but my parents never wanted to invest in that because they already gave a piano to my sister (that i wasnt allowed to use) so ye that was dropped lmao

and i started to write when i was about 11 and it was that /one thing/ i didnt need help for from anyone, completely self taught, with my own ways and tools, and my parents were always dismissive of it, never listening to me, always telling me it wasnt important, that i should focus on something else, and after other circumstances that added to that i dropped writting around my 17/18yo and it had been painful to even try to write again since.(i came back to writing around my 20yo a bit before my breakdown but after it happened it started to die out and i felt exhausted and stopped after a few months and since then i've never been able to pick up writing again ay.)

(and im not touching the obsessive elements bc like- the fact she does it for her crush makes it different, but the sort of things she does? taking pictures and putting them everywhere in her room when she hyperfixates, making overcomplicated schedules and such? i litteraly do that with fiction. i made a freaking timeline for this show. i am currently working on organizing codex from d.a and an approval guide for christ sake. and im not talking about my multiple fandom shrines in my room and the fact i legit have one for m/lb made from pictures found on merchs.

or also the fact i have a lot of passions i'd love to share and seeing M. play video games with her dad for exemple makes me so bitter when all i get is backhanded insults from my parents when i bring it up.)

So sometimes i see M. and part of me is just in awe, loving everything about her. the other part of me tho... i feel... a bit robbed? like she's such a creative kid, she's incredible and she inspires me everyday, and i cant help but think how i would have adored her when i was a kid. (im not even kidding, as a kid i requested my mom a costume of black cat for h.alloween and a l.adybug costume for the carnaval. i have pictures of that at my dad's place sadly it kills me. also my room when i was a kid used to be covered with l.adybug stickers like. HELL my mom doesnt care about my interests but last year she bought me a M/LB winter callendar (bc its been years i was mentioning i wanted one, a selfish whim but oh well) and i had a huge double take bc i was certain she didnt remember me talking about this show- and she did not. when i asked her why, she legit told me "because she reminded me of you as a kid with your pigtails your obsession for l.adybugs". like!! i cant even stress how kid!me would have adored this show and especially LB./M.) (the pigtails too this time i have proofs around there i used to carry them all the time until i was bullied for it at school. (bullying at school instead of good friends also adds to the difference in question tbh lmao))

there is something so... weird into seeing the parts of yourself that you cut yourself from in a character, and see that the main difference is because of how the family (and bullies) treated those elements so drastically differently.

my family was always neglectful but differently than A.. the things i relate to with him is how he specifically still holds on hope that his father will do better at least just for one day and his reaction when he's left down saying he's just used to it. and like normal, not every kind of abuse are the same and all but i still relate enough to feel sad.

but M. is always a whiplash of feelings like i could have been this sort of girl in a better environment.

at 13/14yo she was already making stuff up, baking, designing clothes, doing art, she was doing so many things, even forgetting the superhero part. she was being happy being a creator at her pace and with encouragement. at 13/14yo i was starting to show concerning signs of d.epression because i was trying to handle my parents's divorces and the multiple trials that followed that /i/ had to handle by finding middle grounds, allowing some of my father's blackmail to avoid worse, and by litterally having to collect infos from mails everytime to prove against some of his arguments to the judges. and my sister refusing to talk to us for a year, which caused us basically to feel very bad thinking of the eldest sister who ran away from home, and having to handle my father's harrasment and emotional abuse of constantly belittling me (fuck this was the age he legit told me i would probably end up a p.rostitute so ye!!! fuck that!!!) andd the fact my mom was also falling apart from all of it on me and i was always supposed to cheer her up while i was having a hard time in a new school and new environment away from the very few friends i had and again feeling abandonned by my sister which freaking sucks after already had suffered that from our eldest one.

but M. makes me cry every. goddam. rewatch. its like maybe the ultimate wish fufilling story of just how i would have loved my family to be. of how i think i could have turned up.

and that realization hits so badly everytime.

there's a thing with my hyperfixations where i'll always find a way to tie it back to my traumas. i dont know if im pulling straws, or if the things are there. for having watched m.lb when it came out unfazed and only got hit with that realization upon rewatching- i feel it was more me realizing "there is something there that is touching me more than before" and having an introspection to get it.

and i think the difference is that- before my breakdown the characters and stories i related to where the eternal optimistic-yet-damaged "never give up!" type of characters. When things started to go downhill to my breakdown and since then the fictions that talked to me the most were all dealing with guilt coming from toxic environment that werent your fault per se but you pierceved that way. my way to relate were to characters who felt deeply connected to their guilt (peak being c.loud of f.f7 that even topped it with the deadly skin disease making him lose will to live (because ye that happened. still hate to watch out for that so ye), and memories issues, you would have told me at 13yo when i first watched that movie that this would be what i would relate to him about 7 years later i would have laughed at your face.), which translated with pushing people away and self destructing habits.

and i know i watched m.lb the first time around that time, when i was 20/21. and that may be why i didnt feel that. that my concerns were too elsewhere to realize that. That i was too focalized on how i felt like i failed by suddenly breaking under the pressure, having all the things i've kept burried kicking me out at once, and that i couldnt afford to be a burden to anyone. and it translated with me loving characters like that because in most cases their friends ended up reminding them of what was important - and sometimes just getting frustrated about your fav being as dumb as it forces you to pull yourself back together lmao. not always working but it was there.

now im 23. i cut ties with my father for about 3/4 years now, with all the shitty things that ensued out of the last trial where he sued me and his still-happening harrasment (sometimes silly sometimes scary). My mom and step dad are suffocating me more and more everyday. my health had become so disastrous i cant even manage to go school or find a job. And more than ever im frustrated and angry.

and i think it may be a shown of recovery? perhaps linked to therapy? of while i still have guilt of falling apart- /they/ are the reason i fell apart. and I'm yet to have proper apologizes for it. i grew furious at my family. of how much i feel robbed.

lately im so angry at everything i lost, was taken of, stolen childhood all of that- because of my parents, mainly. (hell even the bullying at school - in primary school it apparently started bc of gossips about why my eldest sister ran away from home, and in middle school it was first bc my parents insisted on sending me to private school where i was an outcast. which then had me truly embrassing the outcast persona that had made it impossible for me to be at peace in the two others middle schools i went to. highschool saved my social life tbh).

i think it's therapy and recovery that is making me shift the blame and feel so angry at them. so bitter. and suddenly i see in an innocent kid show a "what could have been". same starting personality, different people to channel this.

and this is. frustrating.

but it makes me love it even more. idk if its driving anything else than ressentment but at least for the time of an episode I'm in a bubble of a.lternative universe where i can forget about my life and feel satisfied at once.

like finding a piece of myself that i deliberately broke and burried to never think about it again, and realize far later how it missed to the whole, and how damaged this piece is now, but still is.

and there is something incredibly healing about that. i would never have thought there would be this much healing out of this anger and yet satisfaction. what a strange feeling.

fiction is funny that way. the things people can get out of it to deal with their own psyche are so different one person to the next.

it's just so weird for me to go from "i relate to the horrors this character went through" to "and fuck those horrors. let me think about what could have been if this didnt happen."

even moreso knowing i had this piece of fiction before and didnt approach it that way. there's a time and a mindset for everything. apparently now was the best mindset for me huh

.......

so ye apparently i cant like something like a normal person and have to go on about how it connects to my deeply rooted traumas lmao.

anyway it's been eating me up for weeks now and it's 4:45am i have absolutly no impulse holding me back. if you sat through this piece of work im sorry. just needed it to get it out of my chest.

i'll go back to hugging my cheap-yet-lifesaving c.laire's l.adybug pillow now

good night o/

[winstonhcomedy]

“Dope A-F” 1/9-1/10  “Tonight Shows and Bro Re Nata”

Sweet baby lord had two hot ones last night at two dope shows. Had a super fun night of standup at two of my favorite mics! 

After work I headed over to Short Pump Town Center to get to The Funny Bone for the open mic hosted by Liz Carr. I was there super early so I decided to do a little shopping first. I picked up a new jacket at H&M. It’s a big puffy red, white, and blue jacket that has a real 90s ski movie vibe to it. I throw it on and then head to the candy shop right across from me. Where I proceed to spend 8 dollars on taffy because I am a toddler.

I do some writing in my car and head up to the club. When I get there comedian Brett Leake (5 Tonight Show appearances) is coming in the door. Brett is a comedian living with muscular dystrophy so he is not out at shows as often as he’d probably like.  So it is always a treat to see and talk to him.

After Brett and I get signed up we have an absolutely wonderful conversation about comedy. I get to ask him questions about his Tonight Show appearances. He walked me through the entire process the first time he was selected, and everything that went into that set. 

We then discussed the differences between comedy then and now. How when he started there was no real comedy about identity. Everybody just wanted jokes in the club and they wanted you to steer away from certain topics. He said that he wouldn’t talk about his MD too much on his first Tonight Show because they didn't want him to talk about it too much. Which is in stark contrast to comedy today. I really wish I had recorded this conversation because it was an invaluable discussion about standup. 

Times like this are why I’m glad to be a comic. He talked to me like a peer and a friend and that was really special. If you ever have a chance to talk to Brett or see him live go do it. He now does a mix of comedy and motivational speaking and he is always fun to watch.  Here is one of his appearances on morning radio.

We do the comics meeting and I notice there is a lot of newer comics here. I think other than Liz, Brett, Richard Woody and I no one on the list have been doing comedy longer than a year. I am also interested how shows like this are going to go. We then get the show rolling. Brett opens the show up and has a fine set. He is working out some material about numbers and some questions he has about a couple different religions. 

We then get into a string of newer comics. I can’t really remember anything too much about many of them. There are a few who have taken Patrick Buhse’s class (and it’s always exciting to see these people out at mics actually continuing to do standup). 

The show is going pretty well. Mu Cuzzo goes up right before me and he’s dressed up like he’s about to give a sermon. He has a hot set, and then it is my turn. I feel super good about my set. I worked on my new joke about witches and then riffed an idea about Trump not being the worst president. It got a laugh as well. I had a pretty good set and I’d give it a B-.

Rick went up later that night and ended up doing ok. He was doing new stuff, and people had left. He couldn’t really connect, but it happens. He stayed in the pocket and finished the set.

I then headed over to McCormacks to do some time. I get there and find out I am third and the show is about to start. There are a few comics that I hadn’t seen in a long time, and also a lot of newer comics as well. Looked like a good crowd and they seemed to be into comedy from the start. So as long as you could deliver you would be set.

I went third and I still heard a few hot takes about R.Kelly which is always fun. Nothing like newer comics taking a hot topic and beating it into the ground. I know that I could probably get some good material by focusing on what is in the news, but it just all feels so hacky right away since everyone is giving their take it is a deterrent. I need to get over this because some of my best jokes are about hot topics in the news, or news stories. It is a thing I am actively working on this year to get over that. 

I go up after and have a super hot set. Everything works. I do my two brand new bits, and add a bunch of tags to a third. I got a bell ring from the bartender which was dope, and didn’t have a down moment in my set. It felt really good and one of the better sets I’ve had at McCormacks in a while. Just feels like proof that the hard work is paying off. I’d give this set an A-. After my set I grabbed my stuff and headed home. All in all not a bad night for comedy!!!

The next night was my night to host a showcase at Pro Re Nata Brewery in Crozet. JR Stoffel is the usual host of this show, but he is in Las Vegas for CES for his job. So he handed the reins over to me. I got to book a fun lineup (Rick Williams, Paige Campbell, and Richard Woody), had a guest spot (Alex Castagne) and Chris Alan headlining. 

We had a pretty good crowd actually. I think at our peak we were at about 45+. Which is a solid number for a freezing cold day in Crozet. This show is continuing to grow and bring in business. JR has done a great job building the room. 

I went up first and had a pretty good set. I did new jokes and some light crowd work. I basically just wrangled the crowd for 10 minutes and get them in the mood. A fine hosting set, but I didn’t kill. I”d give this set a C+.

After me was Alex. He did pretty well. He had some lulls and he wasn’t happy with his set, but from the outside looking in he held his own and had some jokes get some pretty big laughs. 

Then Rick went up. He had a good set too. Most of his material worked and he actually got an applause break for a joke he has about kickball. He didn’t close crazy strong, but people definitely dug his set.

Richard Woody followed him with one of the strongest sets of the night. From beginning to end everything he did was working. He got some huge laughs and held crowd control for the duration. He did some material which included him reading his online dating interactions, and it did super well to close.

Paige Campbell had an uneven set. He’d hit really hard and then not get much. Which honestly seemed to be the theme for the entire night. Everybody would lose the crowd a little bit and then just get them back. They were enjoying the whole show but it was almost impossible to build momentum to really make them crack. No one did poorly, everyone did well and got laughs, but you felt like you could lose them at any second.

Lastly Chris went up and did 45 minutes. He was in his own head about it and didn’t seem to be enjoying his self. He was working out a lot of new material during this 45 minutes, and I was super impressed that he stuck with it even when it wouldn’t go anywhere. Then he would follow the lulls with a killer joke that would destroy. The audience could tell he wasn’t feeling it 100% but they stuck with him. I thought he had a good set, and a lot of his new material is super funny and is only going to get better. It was a solid ending to a super fun show. Chris is crazy critical of his self, and that’s what makes him a great comic. 

After the show people came up and were super supportive and said they’d be back for the future ones. I think JR’s room is slowly turning into one of the better comedy rooms in the area and I can’t wait to see what he does with it next. 

WHAT A HOT TWO DAY STRETCH FOR COMEDY! I will be at Cozzys tonight and tomorrow at 8! And Sunday at 8 I’ll be closing out the show at Hof Garden at 7. So come one and all. I love you laydees xoxoxo sugar!

[hobiboo1]

That Dress (Yoongi smut)

a/n: i posted this story a while ago but didnt like parts of it, so i edited it.

Description: Sometimes it can be difficult to get Yoongi’s attention but, tonight, you succeed. 

Genre: smut

Warnings: explicit smut, oral, swearing, light choking, ‘princess’ term, mature content 

You’d been trying to get Yoongi’s attention for days. You did not think wearing this seemingly innocent summer dress would do the job.

It was 1am but you couldn’t sleep. Your fan was on full blast and you were in nothing but one of Yoongi’s simple shirts, but you were still covered in a thin layer of sweat from head to toe as you tossed and turned in the white sheets of your bed. Truthfully, it wasn’t only the heat that was keeping you up- it was also your boyfriend. You had left his studio 4 hours ago and he had promised you he would be leaving soon after. An hour, he said. But you were suddenly more than certain he’d broken his promise. You grab your phone from the bedside table; giving yourself a few moments to blink away the sharp pain the light of the screen caused your eyes. You eventually managed to focus and opened your chat with Yoongi.

You (01:12):

Yoongi?

You typed. Yoongi wasn’t one to reply quickly yet you still stared at the chat as if he’d reply instantly. Waiting a minute or two, you put your phone down on your chest, not sure if you even wanted him to reply or not. If he did, it meant he was still up but at least you could find out if he was at the dorm. If he didn’t, it could mean he was finally getting some rest or sleeping, or it could mean he is still at the studio either ignoring you because he knew what you were going to say- or oblivious to your message coming through because he was too enthralled by his music.

Deciding to do something to entertain yourself without having to actually get out of bed, you open one of the silly games Yoongi always teases you about but plays when you aren’t looking on your phone. After about 10 minutes his customized tone indicates he just sent you a message.

Baby (01:24):

Why are you up? It’s 1am? Go to sleep please, baby.

You smile at the sweetness of his message and also at how familiar his caring yet demanding words are.

You (01:25):

I could say the same to you. I asked you to get an early night tonight, remember? :(

You hope he’ll cave in and just go to sleep but you know without actually being with him to personally force him into bed, it’s unlikely.

Baby (01:25):

I can’t sleep in this heat so I may as well get something done.

Something done?

You (01:26):

Please tell me you’re at the dorm.

He takes a minute to respond, his hesitance already giving you your answer.

Baby (01:28):

I’m at the dorm…

You roll your eyes.

You (01:28):

Oh yeah? Send me a picture of your toes on the rug in your bedroom.

He takes longer than he should have to send his next text seen as all it said was:

Baby (01:29):

Fine.

In a moment another message pops up.

Baby (01:29):

Maybe I’m still at the studio.

You begin typing ‘Goddamn it, Yoongi!!!’ but discard it, instead jumping to your feet, pulling off your shirt and grabbing the first and easiest item of clothing you could find, all with out turning the light on and without bothering to put any underwear on. You struggle a simple floral summer dress over your head, which turns out to be the perfect outfit for this hot summer’s night. You grab your phone and slip the most convenient pair of slops on at the door.

Yoongi’s studio was quite conveniently positioned and actually much easier to get to than his dorm from your apartment. It was only a 15-minute walk and much less of a hassle than getting a cab or train, besides, you basked in the slight breeze. The streets were all empty and the moon was nearly full, lighting everything up beautifully.

By the time you had arrived at the foot of the building of his studio, the breeze had pushed your hair into your face, where is stayed, stuck against your slightly sticky skin. You typed the passcode in with ease, the glass doors opening to welcome you to the building’s dimly lit passage. You walked till nearly the end before peeking through the glass part of Yoongi’s door. He was sitting with his back to you, hunched over his computer with his headphones over his ears. You smiled. It warmed your heart to know that you never had to worry about Yoongi cheating on you, a refreshing feeling compared to previous boyfriends. He was either working or with you.

You twisted the doorknob and entered the practically dark room- his computer screen being the only source of light. He didn’t notice you until you forced a cough. His chair spun around, his headphones being yanked from his head as his wide eyes landed on you.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” He exclaimed. “You gave me such a fucking fright, Y/N.”

You laughed, but instead of making a comment about you laughing at his fright, his eyes dipped down to make their way up your whole figure. He was checking you out, which surprised you seen as you’d been trying so hard to try and distract him… sexually… for the past week or so. You smirked.

“I came to force you to take a break.” You say, your voice hinting at something seductively.

“Don’t tell me you walked here at 1 in the morning.” He said. You don’t answer. “Come on, Y/N, I don’t want to have to spend my time worrying that you’re doing something stupid and dangerous. I can’t keep tabs on you all the time and you know that.”

His words make your heart flutter but you push past them, hoping to create a sexier mood. You walk up to him confidently, spinning his chair back around and plopping down onto his lap, your legs on either side of one of his.

“Play me what you’re working on.” You request. He complies silently, disconnecting his headphones and pressing play on the track splayed over his screen.

You can tell he’s looking at you from the corner of his eyes. “When did you get this dress?”

“Oh this? Quite a while ago, actually. Why?”

He returns his gaze to the screen and mumbles, “No reason. You should wear it more.”

Despite his false lack of interest, you don’t let the subject disappear. “You think? I don’t know it’s kind o-”

“It’s nice.” He cuts in. You look at him and smile. You know he really likes it because all his compliments are rare and sincere- he especially doesn’t often comment on your clothes. He adds stiffly, “You look cute.”

“Cute?” You lean in so that your mouth is right near the skin just below his ear and ask playfully, “Don’t I look sexy?”

His hand betrays the look of indifference on his face, finding a place on your hip and fisting the material of your dress.

“No. You’re cute.” He finally says, a lazy, lopsided smile forming on his face- pushing one of his cheeks up cutely.

“I’m not cute!” You exclaim jokingly, standing up just to sit back down in a straddling position, your hands on his chest. He watches you with his dark, taunting, teasing eyes. “Don’t you think I look sexy in this dress?” You question, looking down at yourself and his eyes following yours. When you look up at his face he’s still checking you out- his teeth capturing his bottom lip as his hands ghost over your thighs.

“My girlfriend’s cute.” He says once he makes eye contact, his voice still teasing you. “And all your arguing right now just makes you cuter.”

“Oh really?” You lower your voice, whispering into his ear, “Will you still think I’m cute if I tell you I’m not wearing any underwear?”

He grips your upper thighs, his lips parting to let out a silent gasp. “And why is that?”

You grin down at him, “I was in a rush to get here.” You fiddle with the strap of your dress, “That’s why I’m wearing this old thing.”

Yoongi scoffs and rolls his head back, “‘this old thing’?” You look at him innocently. “’This old thing’?” He repeats as if he was speaking a foreign tongue. “Come on, baby. You must have put this on knowing how beautiful you look in it.” He whispers, his fingers grazing gently under your dress and to your hips. His lips are near the skin of your neck and you lean your head back to allow him access. He leaves light kisses, pausing in between to say, “You must have put it on to get me all worked up.”

You genuinely didn’t know this dress would have such an effect on him, but you were more than happy with the results and you decided to carry on playing along, “What do you even like about it anyway?”

“Everything,” He starts in a lazy, low voice, “how much of your legs it lets me see,” he drawls while his finger makes achingly feather light touches that feel like a little more than a breeze but it still sets your skin a light, “the way it shows off your hips,” His hands move to your hips, cupping them and using his thumbs to draw harsh circles, “how it shows your love handles,” his fingers move up, caressing your curve and sending goose bumps along your chest, “I like that it lets me see your shoulders.” he plants a kiss on your right shoulder, pausing to look at you before kissing the right. His thumbs still massage your hips while his mouth works quickly and lightly up to your neck. You feel his hands move against your body until he’s cupping both breasts. “It doesn’t hide these.” He mumbles into your skin. “Or this.” He adds, his hand grabbing at your ass. “I like the way the flowers look against your skin.” He says before sucking into your collarbone. “Pretty like my marks I leave on your chest and neck.” You whimper. “But mostly, I just think you look beautiful in it-” You hear him say through the sharpness of the sound his mouth makes as it sucks its way to your jaw, “no one would be able to look away.”

“Yoongi-”

“Shh, baby. Let me take care of you, ok?” He warns gently, his eyes big and brown and doe like with affection. He slips a strap from your shoulder, kissing it again. “You always take care of me. I want to make you feel good.” He kisses up the other side of your neck, making sure to leave a path of marks of equal intensity as on the other side. “I want to remind you what you mean to me.”

Your heart beams and sings at delight at your boyfriend’s love, and so does your whole body as his sensuous touches begin to unravel you. Your hands’ grip tightens at his shoulders. His lips reach the top of your jaw and he finally kisses your lips- securely capturing yours with his own. He takes control with ease, gently leading the kiss into something steamier. It’s not difficult for his tongue to gain entrance to your mouth and soon it is massaging your own. His hands make repetitive paths from your hip to your ass, being certain to squeeze it every time, but his one hand opts to rather play with the baby hair on your neck, sending a shiver directly down your spine. You wonder if he can feel your wetness through his jeans.

“Stand up.” He directs and you do, knowing he has something planned. He rolls his chair back, giving himself space to stand up. Reaching around you, his proximity gives you tingles as he carefully shuts his laptop and puts it under the floor of his desk and switches on the small, dim lamp on the corner of the desk. You wait for him, watching him expectantly. “Up.” He says once the desk is clear. Without wasting a second, you lift yourself onto the desk and his big, veiny hands push your knees, making space for him to stand in between your knees.

“You’re so handsome.” You speak your thoughts out loud, appreciating the way his dark hair frames his perky cheeks and how his determined eyes contrast with his disinterested expression. He smiles, placing a quick kiss on your cheek. His warm hands lay on your upper thighs as he moves his lips back to yours.

“Baby,” He says sloppily through kisses, “I can literally feel how wet you are.”

You blush, realizing your heat was directly against him- and for him to be able to feel you through his jeans meant you were sopping. He chuckles smugly, pushing a finger to your clit and making you gasp.

“So, so, needy for me.” He muses. Leaning in to whisper into you ear, he asks, “Do you want me to make you cum?”

You were wordless, being overcome by even the slight pressure of his finger against you. You nodded, biting down on your lip hard.

“Come on, baby,” He coos gently, “tell me you want me to make you cum and I will.”

“God, yes, I do.” You mewl. With a smug smile on his face, Yoongi drops his finger to your entrance, your arousal allowing it to enter with ease.

“You look so fucking great in this dress.” He mumbles more to himself than you as he eases another finger in. As if suddenly struck with a great idea, his eyes light up with mischief as he looks down at you, stopping the movements of his fingers. You look up at him curiously. “Get yourself off on me.”

“What?” You ask, confused. “You said you were going to take care of me, Yoongi!” You whine.

“I know, I know, baby.” He laughs like it’s funny, kissing your forehead. “And I am. You have my fingers.”

Desperate, you put your palms down behind you and start rolling your hips into his fingers. “Last time I checked, teasing isn’t part of taking care of me.”

“Just do it, sweetheart.” He smiles, remaining his composure, “Just a second longer, then I’ll give you the best orgasm of your life.”

Enticed and still full of pleasure, you keep angling your hips so that the tips of his fingers keep rubbing you in just the right way. A layer of sweat begins to build at your hairline and you frown, biting your lip, as you work towards your orgasm.

“I’ll never get this picture out of my mind.” Yoongi whispers in awe. He stares down at you, trying to memorize everything about this moment. The way your hair falls into your face, sticking to the sheen of sweat, the way your lips are starting to turn red from your incessant chewing, the way your neck looks as you throw your head back and the single drop of sweat that drips down it and how beautiful his marks look all over the soft flesh, the way you swivel your hips- making him imagine how great you’d make his dick feel, your sweet, sweet whimpers, the way your dress barely conceals your breasts and how pretty the colors look compared to your skin and, most importantly, how desperate you are. Desperate for him. Desperate for his fingers.

Remembering his promise, he snaps out of his moment of silent admiration and slips his fingers out of you; lifting you by the hips and spinning you around so that you’re leaning forward against the desk and he drops down to his knees to kiss your thighs before you can even make another sound. His hands move your legs apart so that he can shuffle closer. He starts moving your dress to your thighs so he can get better access to your dripping heat. You start to pull the dress higher so that you can discard it, but his gruff voice stops you, “No. Leave it on.”

He must really like this dress.

You don’t question him, letting it fall back down to pool around your hips. Yoongi’s fingers trail lightly up and down the outside of your thighs when his tongue is suddenly licking a brave, hard strip up your entire pussy.

“Oh my god!” You cry as the wet muscle prods at your entrance.

His hands grip at your thighs as he starts intently prodding his tongue in and out, eating you out hungrily. He also frees one hand to start playing with your clit. The otherwise silent room is full of the lewd, slurping sounds coming from your very wet pussy and a loud slap as he caves into the temptation of slapping your ass, making you moan out in pain and even more pleasure.

Wanting to get at a better angle to also suck at your clit, he says, “Now turn around.”

You do as he says, returning to your position of leaning back against the desk. He taps at your right leg, gesturing for you to put it over his shoulder. You do, meaning his face is instantly right near your heat. He wastes no time in connecting his mouth to your clit, circling it with his tongue and using his lips to pull it at just the right pressure. He snakes one hand around to grab harshly at your ass, and he uses the other to push two fingers back into you, pumping them at the same time as sucking and licking at your clit, making you almost pass out from the pleasure.

You thread your hands through his hair, looking down with great attention at how great he looks on his knees, eating you out with frowning brows of concentration. Your walls clenching around his fingers does two things, one being making him moan, the other being that he becomes aware that you’re close, making him remove his fingers and hands.

He stands up, kissing you with an intense hunger, letting you taste yourself on his tongue and feel your juices on his chin. He looks at you with dark, lustful eyes and lurches you roughly onto the desk. You gasp at the movement and watch him with excitement, waiting for his next move. You don’t look down but you hear the buckle of his belt being undone.

“Normally,” He starts slowly, catching you with every sound and movement and blink of his eyes as you watch him like he’s the best thing on this planet, “I like to make you beg. But today…” He says seriously, “today I’m treating my princess.”

Your heart skips with excitement- because of the return of the term ‘princess’, because of the sound of his belt being dropped to the floor, because of how low and turned on his voice sounds, because of how blown out his dark eyes look, because of the feeling of his warm hands on your hips and, mainly, because of how much you want him to fill you up. He smirks at how you are practically drooling and slips his black hoodie over his head, leaving him in a simple black t-shirt that shows off his neck and collarbones. “That sound ok?”

“Yes, Yoongi.”

“Good girl.”

Yoongi pushed his jeans and briefs down to his thighs, allowing his hard, leaking cock to spring up against his shirt. You don’t think you can ever get over the excitement that floods your body when you lay eyes on his long, girth dick. You practically moan at the sight and reach out for it, but he grabs your wrist, using it to tug you into a quick, sensuous kiss. “Not tonight, princess. Tonight’s about you.”

He grabs his dick, lining it up at your entrance before thrusting it in. “Oh my god, Yoongi!”

“Do I make you feel good, sweetheart?” He grunts, wrapping your legs around his waist to get deeper.

“Yes.” You moan, “Fuck yes.”

“Do I fill you up good?”

“So go- so good.” You stutter- your teeth clattering as he angles his thrusts perfectly.

The desk bangs as it hits the wall behind it. Your hands grip desperately around his neck, pulling him forward for another heated kiss. Grabbing the edge of his shirt, you pull it off of him, instantly running your nails down his abs and back. Using your teeth to scrape across the expanse of his pale collarbones gently, nipping softly when you reach the area his neck and shoulder meet.

He begins to yank you towards him by the calves to meet his every thrust. You moan for him, causing him to grunt, “Moan louder for me, princess. Tell me how good I make you feel.” He comes close, right next to your ear, “All I want is to know my baby feels good.”

“You make me feel so good, baby.”

“Okay, turn around.” He says and pulls out. You understand that he wants to take you from behind and that’s exactly what you want, too.

You turn around, shakily, and stick your ass out, knowing how much he likes it. He leaves an ‘ice-breaker’ slap to your left cheek, immediately easing it with his thumb.

“My princess is so beautiful.” He returns his lips to your sensitive ear lobe, grazing his teeth against the heated flesh purposefully, “So sexy.” Another slap sounds through the room as you moan out for him.

He doesn’t take any more time and slips easily into your already stretched walls. You feel his breath, heavy and hot, on your shoulder as his hands hold your hips steady. He takes a moment to get himself together, he cannot cum before you do. He begins to thrust back up into you, the new position stretching you out in a whole different and wonderful way- his cock pushing against your g-spot almost every time.

Yoongi has turned you into a blubbering mess, unable to say anything coherent, only making repetitive sounds that sound sort of like ‘Yoongi’.

Meanwhile, Yoongi is loving how he can make you feel. He loves that he can make you feel good. He loves how you moan for him. He loves how you turn to mush when he touched you.

“That’s right,” He growled, his hand now snaked around your waist for better leverage, “I prom- promised you your best orgasm ever, and I’m going to give it to you.”

The feeling of his harsh thrusts and his cooing words are driving you crazy, not to mention your clit rubbing up against the desk directly with each of his strong thrusts.

Your orgasm is right in your grasp, and you don’t think you’ve ever wanted something so bad, the feeling in your stomach has never been this strong, hell, your whole body is on fire with pleasure.

You try to tell him you’re going to cum, but you’re barely able to say anything. So you just carry on moaning for him. He groans as your walls tighten around him and his long fingers wrap around your neck, curling around it gently at first, but squeezing gradually tighter and tighter as your orgasm is about to come. He waits 1 minute until he feels you shake with your orgasm and then his hands’ grip on your neck becomes the tightest, cutting off your airflow. It feels like everything is exploding, like the pleasure is shooting through every vein in your body. Tears build in your eyes and fall down your cheeks as you’re shaken to the core. His hand releases it’s hold in perfect, practiced timing and he slips his softening dick out and immediately turns you around, plopping you up on the desk again and peppering kisses all along your neck and chest before placing the most gentle and tender kiss you’ve ever felt on your lips.

His fingers trail small circles up and down your arms. He holds you, stroking you hair and kissing you lovingly, and he will for as long as it takes for you to recover from the best orgasm you’ve ever had.

[danceyreagan]

Isaiah Jesus~Can’t Win.

First Meeting.  Second Meeting  Third Meeting  Moodboards 

Walking down the street on his way to work Isaiah couldn’t help but think of Mona. For the past 24 hours thats was all he thought about. Flashes of her smile and the sound of her laugh invaded his brain. Man, oh Man, did she have a beautiful smile. The way her nose scrunched up and the extra twinkle in her eye, were his favorite things about her.

“Shit man. Get a grip, you’ve only met her a few times” he managed to mumble to himself as he almost plowed over a child on their way to school. Isaiah could not understand why his luck had been so bad. First his father out right embarrassed him, he choked on his drink, then he stepped in dog shit.

Maybe it’s karma for sleeping with all those women and never calling them back. “Nah, Mikey’s a proper whore, nothing ever happens to him” deep in thought he walked right passed the door to the betting shop.

“Oi! Isaiah, where you going?” Arthur shouted after him.  Confused he turned around eyebrows furrowed in confusion looking to the left and right before “Sorry, wasn’t paying attention”

“Isaiah! Mate, heard about yesterday. What a shitty situation”. John of course would be the first one to bring this up.

Arthur failed to hold in his laughter but stopped when he saw the irritated look on Isaiahs face. He clapped his hand on the poor boys shoulder in attempt to make him feel better. “Im sure it wasn’t that bad”

Letting out a deep sigh, he turns to hang his coat and hat in an attempt to ignore them both.

“Leave the poor boy alone” Polly chimes in looking up from the stack of cash she was counting.

“Fucking Finn, cant keep his mouth shut”

“I didn’t tell them, it was your sister. For someone who loves church she’s a proper gossip”

John the incident to be hilarious and just could not let it go. “How you must’ve smelt mate! How embarrassing. And in front of Mona too?”

“Can we drop it?”

“No. Seriously, How’d you-“ before he could finish Polly cut him off.

“Hey Arthur, remember that time John took Martha to the pond and tried feed the ducks but he got too close”

This knocks the smile right off John’s face.

“Alright, enough, we better get to work before Tommy gets here”

“I remember that, The mother duck chased you around for 15 minutes and nearly bit your pinky finger off.”

“Shut up Arthur”

“Cried like a baby.”

“Yeah, well, whats this gotta do with Isaiah?”

“Well…”polly adds “If Martha married you after baring witness to that, what makes you think Mona wont give Isaiah a chance?”

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

Mona had no idea where the betting shop was located. She tried to stop and ask a few people for directions.  One woman just shook her head at her “why would a respectable woman like you be looking for a place like that?”

“Well, thats hardly your business now is it? Either tell me where to go or be on your way”. The old woman scoffed and hurried away mumbling something about todays youth and a lack of respect for their elders.

Mona walked around for a few more minutes before finding the place.

Walking in she was a bit shocked at how large it was on the inside. She hesitated for a moment and took in her surroundings. She noticed a few offices lined up on the back wall and briefly wondered if Isaiah had his own office. She shook  the thought out of her head and walked up to the nearest person nearest the door.

“Excuse me, is Finn Shelby here?”

Scudboat looked up confused for a second. He looked at Mona from top to bottom trying to figure out how she was associated with the youngest Shelby.

Mona had to clear her throat to finally get a response. “Oh, sorry. he’s in the old house, its just back that way. I better show you.”

He walked toward the green double doors that connect the house to the shop, Mona followed quickly behind him.

“If I were you I’d check the kitchen, its just to your right”

“Thank you…”

“Scudboat”

“Thank you, Scudboat”

Mona took a second to looks around the room. The house was definitely old but something about it felt welcoming. She ventured over to her right where she found the kitchen.

Michael and Isaiah were eating lunch, Isaiah had his back to the door so it was Michael who saw her first.

“Hey, Mona”

Isaiah’s head shot up and around so fast he almost fell out of his chair.

“Hi, Michael. Have you seen Finn?”

Isaiah was dumbstruck. This was definitely the last place he expected to see her. Too afraid to embarrass himself again he remained in his seat and quiet as a mouse.

“I think he’s upstairs. I’ll go get him for you”

Mona thanked him, and walked further into the kitchen.

“So…” she looks around the room taking her time to formulate her thoughts. “Step in any dog shit lately?”

Surprising even himself, Isaiah started to laugh.

That’s when she noticed it. Goodness did he have a nice smile.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. You really do have the worst luck.”

“Or maybe you’re just bad luck”   

“If thats the case you don’t get too close”

“Trust me, thats the last thing I want”

Mona didnt really know what to say in response, Isaiah was a bit obvious with his  Intentions, she knew he was attracted to her and by all means she found him equally attractive. However, she knew what he did for a living wasn’t purely legal and she had no interest in that lifestyle.

Sensing that maybe he had said too much Isaiah changed the subject.

“What’ya need Finn for?”

“He asked me to help him find a birthday present for Tabby. You didn’t forget your sisters Birthday did you?”

“No, Im throwing her a party at the Garrison on Friday.”

Mona nodded in acknowledgement. “Sounds fun. Im sure she’ll love it”

Isaiah took a beat then continued.

“You know, Mona..If you’re not busy, maybe you could…”

Mona’s heartbeat was started to pick up, and she could sense he was about ask her out. She was almost certain, but she wasn’t quite sure how she would answer.

“If you’re not too busy that is-“

Next thing you know Tommy comes in the room, followed by Michael and Finn.

“Isaiah, Michael, back to work.”

“Ready to go?” Finn asks

“Yeah, come on” Mona never officially met Tommy but she knew he was Isaiah’s boss and didn’t want to get him in trouble so she tried to make a speedy exit with Finn. Mona turned back smiling at Michael and Isaiah before leaving, “see you later.” Isaiah smiled in response.

Damn, he has a nice smile. 

@allaboutjoecole @thewanderingblinder @twistedrunes @pb-bonniegold

Please let me know what you guys think. Feedback is always welcome. Inbox Open.

[burningalight]

my binders/locker in grade school were stuffed with so much shit i couldnt find anything...always crumpled up papers, trash etc

chewed pencils/pens, broke them taking them apart in class, lost them, often didn’t have one, frequently borrowing them and forgetting to give them back to the point that certain people wouldn’t give me pencils

could comprehend reading i liked very well, but when we’d have reading groups with boring books id always be lost,  or when the teachers would have one on ones and have u read something short and ask questions after to assess ur reading level, they’d often have to tell me to read it again bc they knew how much i remembered didnt add up to my intelligence and reading speed 

moms college friend gave me an unoffical iq test and i did much worse than i know i shouldve on the reading portion bc she’d play a story and then ask me after to list every detail i could remember and i couldn’t remember anything. but when she played 10 numbers and asked me to say them out loud backwards i scored extremely high ?

couldnt do projects, would be in tears, last minute every time, parents mad bc i need a poster board RIGHT NOW ITS DUE TOMORROW . hated assigned reading, horrible at essays even when they helped us plan them. 

i remember my 7th grade social studies teacher assigning a paper, i wrote extremely detailed and well in the first paragraph or 2, and the following ones got shorter and shorter and were completely bullshit bc i got bored. she told me ‘really strong first paragraph.’ and gave me a B  

talk too got damn fast. customers constantly telling me to slow down bc they cant understand me

my mom always says she had to challenge me as a kid bc i would get bored and get in trouble. i was acting out bc i was understimulated, i happened to like learning (esp numbers and puzzles) bc smart so that’s what i could fixate on and felt stimulated by

lunch detention frequently in 8th grade in my first highschool class, algebra, bc i wouldnt do my homework, at one point he just stopped giving lunch detention for that bc i wouldnt do it. i hated that class bc the math was boring and i never paid attention but would somehow pull off a’s and b’s on tests so i ended up with a B. my first B, and i had brought that up from a D (told my mom it was almost a C, he gave a really hard test and we all did bad etc, when she had to sign a paper about my low grade) at the end of the year, during the exam i was so confused the whole time, it was my first highschool exam and i didn’t know ANYTHING. i ended up with a 92 from guessing, and a curve, and every one of my friends got at least a 93 or better and i felt so stupid bc i was supposed to be the best at math

i would take every highschool class in honors but not one english class bc it required more essays and summer reading and i knew i wouldnt do the reading and would cry over the essays

the only other class i didnt take honors was chemistry bc i knew the honors teacher had a lot of projects and i would be stressing over them. i ended up with an A in the standard chem class even tho i never finished any work in class and didnt do homework, but i was still the smartest in the class and did the best overall

lunch detention for forgetting to get papers signed like report cards. they weren’t even bad grades i just couldnt remember. one time i got actual detention for forging my moms signature bc i got lunch detention for several days straight bc i kept forgetting to get the paper signed 

often had permission slips waiting to be signed the day before the field trip, or told my mom it was picture day the day before or morning of. one time i totally forgot it was picture day and didnt dress up

acting out and not thinking ab the consequences, many referrals.. many more times that my teachers let me get away with acting out when someone else doing the same thing would’ve been punished. one time anna and i left in the middle of class to go with emma to the library, only emma had permission, and my teacher had anna and i do wall sits instead of going to the office. in gym in middle school i would never dress out. i hated the clothes and hated gym bc i was awkward and if we didnt dress out we had to copy pages out of the health textbook the entire time and i would barely write 2 paragraphs bc i was so bored and my hand hurt and he never did anything ab it. i wouldnt dress out at least twice per week if not more. told my mom I had a C bc he had it out for me but i was the problem

in elementary school if we didn’t come to gym day wearing the right shoes we had to go into the back and pick out a pair of sneakers that fit out of a box of shoes, and also borrow socks if necessary. i had to do this frequently bc i never remembered to wear the right shoes

i would extremely often forget my library books and have to sit on the couch waiting for everyone to pick out their books for half an hour

when we were even younger we’d have story time and you had to sit in the middle of the floor inside a big circle of chairs where everyone else was if you forgot your library books. i lost one at one point for months and my parents didnt just pay for it so i had to sit in the middle every time. we found the book on a shelf somewhere in the house 

my chorus teacher never liked me bc i talked too much and i always felt like the worst singer, not bc of my singing but bc she wasn’t ever nice to me

in 7th grade science we learned latin root words and every day we’d play a game where we all stood up and one by one he’d ask for a root and we’d give it. if you got it wrong on the first round you’d have to write it on a piece of paper x amount of times and turn it in. if you were the last person left you were allowed to sit on your desk for the rest of the year, during these games while everyone else had to stand up. i wanted so badly to sit on my desk, esp bc i was fidgety and couldnt stand still, but i would never study them bc i’d forget or not want to if i did remember, even tho i really wanted to know them and sit on my desk. that teacher had a huge soft spot for me and one day i just started sitting on my desk during those. everyone knew i was smart, and it was all the smart kids who got to sit on their desks, so no one questioned it. im not sure if he knew i wasnt supposed to and just let me, or didnt realize i hadnt won bc i was smart. 

hyperlexia? mom said i could practically read before i was taught. i’ve always obsessively air written, ie writing words out w my finger in the air, on my leg etc. 

esp during lectures i doodle excessively to the point that my papers margins have always been covered with random scribbly overlapped words, or song lyrics. the words are usually something someone in the class said. ive started keeping an extra sheet of paper just for scribbling when im taking notes or listening in class. when we finished end of year tests in school i would write down full lyrics to songs on my scrap paper so i wouldnt be so bored. my hand cramps up so much but it was better than staring or trying to sleep with the lights on 

doing things and forgetting to turn them in

hyperfixating on books to cope w boredom and social anxiety, at one point read one per day, i was definitely one of the most frequent people in the library 

‘ The way I see it is if I can get information into my mind, I can do a lot with it but getting it in there in the first place is the really difficult part.’ - not mine

none of my teachers ever told my mom any of this i dont think, bc i was the smartest and i always got good grades, most had a soft spot for me BUT COULDNT SEE I HAD ADHD like damn. one time my fourth grade teacher whom i liked a lot was mad at us and indirectly calling people out, and referred to the fact that some of us never stopped talking , then made direct eye contact with me and i felt rly embarrassed bc i didnt realize i did that until she mentioned it

i often had to move seats if i was near friends bc i wouldnt stop instigating talking

at big lots when i had to run the register i was so painfully bored , fidgety, had to sneak my phone soo much bc i was so bored. when i was on the floor i would put away the go backs very quickly and then take upon myself a project like going through the entire wall of individual drinks and pulling out all the expired ones, it was like 5 carts full. my manager put me in charge of organizing the entire makeup section and all the gross clearance makeup bc she knew id do it the best and fastest 

when bosses have me do inventory i can count the products super fast and efficiently, but then when they have me put them into a spreadsheet i stare at it for hours getting nothing done bc distracted and its boring. ammar told me if i’d just get off my phone i could get it done bc he’d been asking for it for weeks, i wasnt trying to ignore it 

when im trying to do something at work that needs more concentration, i want to cry with frustration whenever i hear the door chime and have to get up and help customers and break my focus

[kpurereactions]

Dirty Dancing

Jimin

Summery: Dance practice turned steamy is probably the best way for you to end your day

W/C: 2570

You moved from America to Korea thanks to your dance abilities. You had been doing what ever it was you could to become a professional dancer and when the all girl group Red Velvet called upon you for your assistance to 'Americanize' their dancing you couldn't help but chuckle and happily accept their offer to fly you out. You knew by the term 'Americanize' and watching the girls perform that this term was just a nice way of them asking you to teach the girls how to look sexier in their dancing. You didnt mind though, sexy was your specialty.

You had been working with the girls for weeks now and found yourself loving their company. They were so sweet and worked so hard that by the time you got home and kicked off your shoes you held no grudges against how tired you were; this was your dream.

Word spread that a new professional dancer was helping Red Velvet out and soon your 9 to 5 days were turned into 6 to 12 with all the extra lessons you had been giving. Your favorite, aside form Red Velvet of course, was the boy band BTS. Though their members varied in ability they took every pointer you had with stride and did their hardest to work to improve, even when you weren't there yelling at them to step on a certain count.

Within this group you spent the most time with Jimin, why you had no idea. He was definitely one of the more talented dancers of the group and picked up the choreography extremely fast. But still you found yourself meeting up with him and two of the other boys at 8 and even when the others left at 10 you were still working with him till midnight almost every day of the week. You kicked it off with him right away and would be stupid to not admit half the reason you enjoyed working with him so much had partly to do with how gorgeous he was, both inside and out. Tonight was different, though. Hoseok and Jungkook had stayed behind basically begging you to finally perform a dance they had seen you do a month before moving to South Korea.

"Guys I don't think thats a good idea." You laughed shaking your head as you remembered the dirty choreography.

"Oh common, we've already watched you do it on youtube, why can't you do it now?" Hoseok said as the three of them sat against the glass staring up at you.

"Yeah, and then when your done you can teach it to us and we can do it." Jung kook said smiling up to you.

Biting your lip you raised your hands to stop the boys from talking over you and agreed, mainly because you wanted to see these three rolling around and twerking on the floor.

"Fine, but you can't act weird." You said pointing a finger at each of themas you fixed the large cut up tee you were wearing over your dance spanks. When they all agreed you pulled the song 'Privacy' by Chris Brown up and walked to the opposite wall.

You took a deep breath before nodding to Hoseok to press play and when the right part came on you started your strut forward, making sure you popped your hips with every step you took. This room was alot smaller than the floor you originally danced this on and you soon found yourself extremely close to the boys as you dipped down from your kneeling position and flicked your butt in the proper motion. Your eyes met Jimin's as you did this and for half a second you almost forgot your next step. You saved yourself by improvising and twirling on one of your kneepads and swinging your left leg around until you landed in the splits catching back up to the beat, Smiling as you realized how close your long leg was to where Jimin sat with open knees. You dipped and rolled again landing in another set of splits before rolling once more to twerk on the beat again.

Finishing you stood up and covered your face with your hands as the boys clapped and stood.

"Y/n, I don't think I can do the whole.. You know." Jungkook said spreading his legs as far as they could to indicate a split.

"Thats okay, theres different choreography. I kind messed up a little" You said still red in the cheeks which was caused by the dark look Jimin was giving you.

"What if we made it a pairs dance? Jimin, you have experience in pairs right?" Hoseok said leaning forward to look at Jimin.

When the two of you agreed You took your place infront of Jimin and shuttered at the feeling of his hand on your hip as you waited for Hoseok to play the song. This was the first time you were running it through after the boys helped you add a more masculine part to the dance and you couldn't help but blush at how dirty it was, and coming from you that was saying something.

The two of you stepped and then double stepped twice together when the time in the song came and your couldn't help but only focus on the feeling of Jimin behind you. To make it even worse, as you snaked your body to the side and placed your hands on your knee as you popped your hip the feeling of Jimin's crotch hitting your body as he mimicked your move and thrusted forward sent a chill up your spine. You let him spin you twice before catching your back and dipped you till you were left in a back bend where you kicked over to land in the splits once more, twerking for two beats as Jimin stepped around you.

You took his hand as he pulled your body back up and stuck his leg between yours as you ground upon his thigh till the two of you were kneeling on the floor and as you dipped your body again so your cheek was now pressed to the floor  you rose your behind to snap it you watched as Jimin rolled his body beside you, not taking his eyes off of your exposed skin. The next move was worse as you followed the original choreography and laid on your side to Lift your leg so your knee was by your ear. You almost forgot that Jimins part was to hold your leg up while hovering over your body so when his hands wrapped around your ankle you forgot to finish the move out.

"Alright!" Hoseok clapped as the dance finished and Jimin held a hand out to help you rise from the ground. The touch of his fingers once again making you forget about the other two boys.

You went home that night flustered and not quite sure what to do with yourself. You found yourself on the couch freshly showered with a smoothie in your hand watching and rewatching the video the boys were talking about when they brought up dancing for them, Jimin and his touch still very much in the front of your mind. There was a knock on your door and without looking up, or even thinking you called out.

"Its open!"

You took another sip expecting to see one of the Red Velvet girls as you had been placed in the same dorm building as them, but as Jimin walked into the apartment and stood in front of the coffee table you choked on a strawberry seed.

"What are you doing here?" You said suddenly becoming very selfconcious with your choice of pjs; an old sports bra and your class of 2014 highschool sweatpants. You watched as Jimin looked at you with the same look he had when you first danced for him, pure lust and you felt yourself fighting the urge to look at his lips, so you bit yours instead. You waited for him to say something but he seemed just as lost for words as you felt. The stare down became unbearable so you shifted so now both your feet were on the hardwood floor.

"Jimin?" You breathed he still hasn't said one word. You watched as he finally looked away from you, obviously having a battle within himself before his eyes set back on yours and he moved from behind the coffee table and lent down with his arms straddling your body.

You couldn't take it anymore and finally let your eyes move down to his lips, causing you to see something that make you smiled. In his bent over position his loose shirt fell forward so you could see straight down it. You but your lip and let your eyes gaze down his now slightly exposed chest. Not being able to help yourself as you took two fistfuls of his shirt and looked back up to meet his gaze. He chuckled and bit his lip before leaning down till your lips were barley apart. He hovered there, trying to make sure that this was okay for you, but it more than was. You were the one to close the space between the two of you by letting go of his shirt with one hand and hooking it behind his neck.

The kiss was heavy and needy between the two of you. With all the sexual tension that had been building up between you two the past few weeks you were surprised this didn't happen sooner. His hands had traveled up so his palms rested against your cheeks while his fingers hooked around your neck holding you in places. Without him even needing to ask you let him slip his tongue into your mouth, giving up the fight to control him sooner than you wanted to. It just felt so good to have him powering over you. Frantic hands reached down to his shirt and in one swift motion you were tossing it over the back of the couch, now eyeing your new candy. The kiss picked back up and you couldn't help yourself when you started to run your hands all over his chest, making sure not one inch of skin was left untouched. This included all the way down to the hem of his pants, where his member was already filling any wiggle room he had to spare. This make you gasp into the kiss, the need for him now was stronger than ever. He took your hint and sat next to you to encourage you to swing a leg over him. You tugged at his hair making his head snap back as you started to grind on his lap, letting your dancer hips control his new found stimulation. With his hands now tracing up your bare back and his fingers intertwining with the many crossing straps of your bra he sat up giving him your open neck to trail kisses down. He found your sweet spot to be right in the crevice between your collarbones and your breath hitched. You felt him smile against your skin  as he nipped and sucked at your quick to mark skin. Groaning you tugged his hair again so you could press your face to his. Pressure pulling at your shoulders told you he was tugging at your bra, which you quickly let him take off of you before he laid you down on your back. You reached forward confidently as and started to palm his member through his jeans while he kissed you feverishly once more. You decided to take this part slow, palming him than stoping to unbutton, than palming just to stop and unzip. It got tot he point where he growled and sat up to take his pants and boxers off before ripping yours form underneath you. He didn't take a second to pause and look at you, his lips needed yours too badly so as he crawled back over you and lent down to kiss you couldn't help but groan at the feint feeling of his member against your slit. You started to raise your hips up and down again just to feel him close to you. To try and get him to touch you. He bit your bottom lip and smiled a mischievous smile as he let his fingers travel down your body till he hit your core. You gasped at his touch now grinding your hips to mimic the movement of his fingers. He entered you and started to pump, his lips finally leaving yours so he could take one of your breasts into his mouth where his skilled tongue flicked and sucked on and around your over sensitive nipples. You bit back a moan and tried to reach for his member but it was just out of grasp.

"Jimin." You said in a husky voice through a shutter

"Tell me what you want." He said, his hot breath against your wet nipple causing a shiver down your spine as it became even more erect than it was before.

"Fuck me." You barley breathed, the sensation of his fingers starting to drive you to your favorite feeling.

"I can't hear you." He said slowing down his pumping on purpose.

"Dear God just fuck me!" You said a lot louder than you intended.

He chuckled again before kissing his way back up to your mouth. You felt him line himself up with your opening and you groaned, this teasing was too much. Once aligned he started to press his tip into you slowly causing you to break out of the kiss so you could moan into his shoulder. You were surprised just how much of you he took up. You started to roll your hips against him as he teased you by staying still. He cussed at your movement and instantly picked up to a speed you weren't fully ready for, but still you let a cry out in pleasure as you started to fit to him. He crashed his lips to yours once again but the kiss was sloppy between shaky breaths and moaning from the both of you. His pumps became staggered and rough as he reached down to rub your clit. With every pump you felt yourself getting closer the edge and you knew he was right there behind you. His forehead was pressed to yours and you grabbed tighter to his now dampening hair trying to hold yourself still but with your orgasm was this close to spilling over your back arched and you pressed yourself up into Jimins chest to the point where he had to hold you down. The moment his free hand grabbed onto your hips was the moment you came. And you came hard. He rode out your high until his came and he quickly pulled out and gasped when you pushed him to his back so you could finish him off with your mouth. His hand found your hair and knotted it around his fist as you bobbed your head against his bucking hips. You heard him cuss your name before groaning once more and releasing into your mouth. You swallowed before he could even let go of your hair. Sitting up you looked up to see him staring at you with lidded eyes and goofy grin. You reached your smoothie and took the straw between your lips to tease him with a wink. A wink that made him grab your hand and pull you into your open bedroom for another round before the two of you passed out in each other's arms from exhaustion.

[avidfanficwriter]

Rollin vs. Amado (Chapter Two)

Characters: Nick Amaro. Amanda Rollins. 

Ratings: M. 

Warnings: Cursing. Drinking, mentions of Alcoholism. 

Summary: The night she got into the fight with Nick should have been the worst but it’s the day that really got it in for Amanda. 

Chapter 1. Chapter 2. Chapter 3. 

Tags: @wolflhards

Chapter Two: The Aftermath Of Hazardous Amanda.

Amanda awoke to the sound of her cellphone chirping near her ear, the stench of alcohol burning her eyes and nose as she rolled over reaching for her phone only to collide with another body instead. Last nights events were a blur, a mystery, brief memories came back but nothing clear. She saw alcohol which was a given and… Nick.

Her eyes opened wide and she tried to make out the body next to her, he was laying on his stomach, sound asleep. “Oh, god, Nick…” She moaned.

No response.

“Nick, are you okay?” He didnt respond and her mind panicked, she remember Cragen waking up to the a dead body in his bed after a night of ‘drinking.’ She fought the pouning in her head and the ringing in her eyes as she reached over trying to desperately move to roll the man over.

“Nick!” She shouted, vigoursly shaking him.

“Whose Nick?” The man asked, groaning.

“What?” She asked confused. The man pushed up on his arms and she could see that it was in fact not Nick. No where close to Nick. A random guy with a tattoo on his neck and a shaved head. She searched for her cell phone, reaching over the man, grabbing it. She ignored the missed calls she had from Fin and Olivia, quickly jumping out of bed and hiding in the bathroom. She locked the door behind her and pressed the number four on her phone.

“Hey, this is Nick-”

“Nick, my god it’s me! I’m so sor-”

“Amaro, I couldn’t come to the phone right now, leave me a message and I’ll get back to you.”

“Dammit.” She said stomping her foot.

She tried again and it went striaght to voicemail. A third time and nothing.

“He’s at work, that’s why he’s not answering.” She whispered, starring at her cell phone. Outside of the small restroom she head the small thumps followed by a knock on the bathroom door and a man’s deep voice. “Left my number on the dresser hit me up if you want to have a fun night again.” 

Amanda shook her head in annoyance. Desperate to erase the memory of last night, she clutched her phone to her ear as if the sheer panic coursing through her veins could somehow make him answer his phone. Time and time again, she’s met with the sound of his voicemail until she collapses onto the floor, tears flowing down her face and her cell phone abandoned on the cold marble floor. 

He’s at work. He’s working on a case. Interviewing a suspect. She says trying to convince herself, wiping her now swollen eyes. Amanda has no idea why she’s crying or why she’s overacting but it’s happening and it won’t stop. Her phone buzzes again, the blonde nearly falls over to answer it, putting it to her ear and shouting into the phone.

“Nick...Nick.” 

“It’s Fin.” The voice causes her to jump. 

“Fin, Oh, sorry. I just called Nick.” She says sniffling. 

“Amanda, where are you? Liv’s pissed. She’s been calling you all morning, we’re short handed today, you need to get in.” Fin’s voice is like sirens going off in Amanda’s head, she pulls the phone away and glances at the top of the screen. It’s almost noon. 

“Yeah... Yeah. I had a thing.” She says shaking her head. 

“A thing?”

“It’s nothing. I’ll be in soon.” She says quickly hanging up. 

Amanda had tried to clean herself up, to hide the bags under her eyes that rose from both her tears and sleep deprivation. She showered and covered the horrendous hickeys her bald lover had given her but it didn’t do any better, she was still a mess. She looked like been through hell and back all in one night. She could apply all the makeup she wanted but she was a mess and anyone who looked at her could see just that. 

Amanda hadn’t even made it into the prescient before she spotted Fin, worriedly standing outside with his hands in his pocket searching for her. He sees her in no time and the questions begin. “Where have you be--Are you okay?” 

“Yeah. Yeah. Coming down with a cold.”

“Must be some cold.” Fin retorts. 

“It is.” She argues. 

“I covered for you.” Fin says trying to get Amanda to say what actually happen but she doesn't budge. 

“Thanks.” She says pushing her hair behind her ears and walking away from Fin. Inside the squad room it’s dark and damp, more importantly there’s no sign of Nick anywhere just the angry eyes from Olivia whose in her office, starring daggers into her. “Where’s Nick?” she finally found the courage to ask Fin. 

“Out sick. That’s why Liv is so angry. She’s got one cop out sick and the other M.I.A.” 

Little by little throughout the day, Amanda’s memories slowly start to come back and it isn’t a pretty scene. She had crossed a line with Nick and now he was avoiding her but would he actually sacrifice his job to steer clear of her?  

“Amanda.” Olivia says in a voice full of annoyance. 

Almost in a panic, Amanda struggles to stand up and walks into Olivia’s office, closing the door behind her with her eyes low to the ground. 

“Yes?”

“Where were you?” 

“Liv, I’m so sorry. I lost track of time.”

Olivia doesn’t dare to pretend to be friendly, she’s angry. “This is the third time this has happened, Amanda.” 

“Liv, I know. I--” Amanda desperate for any excuse to come out, her sister, her mother, her neighbor. Something... anything but she’s frozen. “I....” 

Olivia stands up from her desk, glaring at Amanda. “Are you hungover?” 

“What?” 

“Were you drinking?” 

“No, no... of course not.” 

Olivia walks closer to her detective, starring straight into her eyes. “Have you been drinking?” 

Amanda opens her mouth. “Last night... it just got out of hand.” She finally says in a hesitant voice. 

Olivia shakes her head and lets out a deep breath. “Go home, Amanda.” 

“Liv, I’m good.” She tries to argue. 

“Go home, sleep it off. You better be on time tomorrow.” Olivia’s voice lowers, filling with compassion. 

 Amanda lowers her head and sighs, whispering a low thank you before exiting the room. She walks past Fin whose fighting the urge to ask her a where she’s going, she walks out of the prescient and hails a cab but instead of going home she goes to the bar and starts her nightly routine of drinking. 

At Maison’s apartment, Nick is sound asleep on the couch, a small blanket is wrapped around his chest and his hand covering his face. Maison walks into the apartment, shoving her keys into her pocket and immediately stops when she sees him on the couch. She quickly looks at the clock before turning her attention back to Nick. “Shouldn’t you be at work?” She asks standing over the couch and peering down at Nick. 

“Shouldn’t you?” 

“On Lunch.” Nick slowly sits up and glances at his watch, before groaning. “So, what’cha doing sleeping beauty?” She jokes with a small grin on her lips. 

 “Avoiding work.” 

Maison sucks air in through her teeth. “Avoiding work or avoiding a certain blond that has an attitude problem and possibly drinking problem?” She remarks. 

“Both.” 

“So, how long are you going to duck out in my apartment?” Maison asks as she enters the kitchen and pulls a water bottle out of the refrigerator. 

“Till you kick me out.” 

“Need I remind you, i kicked you out the first month you stayed here, told you to go home to your wife but I came home after work and you were back on my couch. If it didn’t work then I don’t think it’ll work now.” Nick chuckles, putting his hand over his eyes. “Your phones blinking.” She says. 

“Was it Maria?” Nick asks shooting straight up with a voice full of hope. 

His heart starts to race until he sees her pull her bottom lip in between her teeth. “No, Amanda.” 

Nick groans and lays back down down, defeated. “She leave a message?” He asks with a gloom tone. 

The younger detective smirks. “Yeah, i’ll say about forty of ‘em.” 

“Forty.” 

“Homegirls, got problems.” 

“No, she doesn’t.” Nick retorts. 

“No. Of course not. I always call a divorced men I’m not sleeping with forty times over.” 

“Maria and I are still married.” Nick shouts causing Maison to stop in her tracks. She turns in shock, facing the couch with fear in her eyes. 

“Bad choice of words.” She says quietly. 

“Maria and I aren’t getting divorced.” he adds.

She goes silent, her eyes trailing the room, hoping that she can get out of the situation. “I know... I know that. It’s just...” 

Nick sits up, only this time; he’s standing up. His hand balled up in a fist near his sides and covering his face. “It’s just what? Have you spoken to maria?”

“No. Of course not... It was just bad--” 

“What?” He interjects. 

“Bad judgement on my part.” She says holding out her hands defensively. “I’ve had a rough day. Some guy is getting away with murder, i just got confused.” She pleads trying her best to contain Nick. “

Nick stares at her, his eyes burning holes through her. “You know we aren’t getting a divorce...right?”Maison isn’t by any means scared of Nick but she knows his wrath, she knows exactly what he’s capable of and just what can push him over. Maria is one of those subjects. “Look, let’s just chop it down to a simple mistake. I know you two aren’t getting divorced, I know that. I’m sleep deprived, over worked, my brain isn’t in the right place, Nick.” 

Nick nods. “You don’t think Maria would do that to me, do you?” He asks, walking next to the counter and plopping onto the bar stool in front of Maison. His anger slowly starting to fade. 

“I...” She starts but trails off. 

“Honestly.” He adds. 

“Up until six months ago, i never would have thought she would have kicked you out.” She groans lifting Nick’s hand to glance at his watch. “Who knows what could happen? You two could work it out... if not you have Amanda whose one step away from stalking you. She smiles tapping his hand. 

Nick shakes his head trying to hide his smile. “Shes really not that bad.”

“Anytime you have to describe someone as ‘not that bad’ they are worse.” 

“She really inst’.” 

“And I’m sure Jack the Ripper wasn’t that bad.” She squeals with a large smile.

“You can’t compare the two.” 

“Mmhmm...” She says mocking him. “If you’re wanting Maria back... which you obviously do. Don’t you think you should limit your contact with Miss drunkie?” 

“I’m not spending more time with her than before.” 

“Still. If i was Maria.”

“--Which you’re not.” He interjects, putting his hand under his chin. 

“If i was... I wouldn’t appreciate my husband haning out with some chick that didin’t ahve an off switch. 

“You know, Maria didn’t like you tat first either.” 

“I’m an acquired taste, Amaro.” She says flashing a smile. “Besides I didn’t over drink the first time i met her.” 

“No.. but you did start trouble.” 

“I didn’t flirt with a happily married man.” She says leaning forward with a nother smile. 

“Amanda wasn’t flirting with me.” He argues. 

“Thank god, you’re married. You’d never make it as a single person.” 

Nick rolls his eyes at her. “Shouldn’t you be at work?” 

“Shouldn’t you?” 

“I’m sick.” He says and Maison smirks, tossing her water bottle onto the counter near the fridge. “See you later sick boy.: She jokes. 

“Bye...” Nick waves quickly ‘Drinks on me?” He asks watching her walk towards the door. 

“I’ve heard that before.” She says opening the door and waving a quick goodbye before leaving. 

Nick stares at his cell phone watching the blue light blink before finding the nerve to pull it towards him. Maison wasn’t exaggerating by any, there was indeed forty missed calls from Amanda. He knew immediately that it wasn’t work related, he had one missed call from Olivia and the rest was Amanda. He looked around Maison small apartment, starring at the boxes still sitting in the hallway and the untouched spare bedroom he refused to sleep in, insisting he’d only stay here for a little bit. Originally it was only suppose to be a week, he showed up and said a weeks, two tops and now he was here for six long months still sleeping on the couch insisting he was going home with in the week. He had five hours until Maison was off work and decided it was time to finally stay in her spare bedroom to go in there and actually use it as a bedroom not just a place to change his clothes. 

Amanda was still at the bar by the time seven o’clock came around, drunk off her ass and flirting with anyone that passed by. Amanda sat at a small table with three empty glasses in front of her and another on the way, her cell phone vibrating insistently. It was Fin, calling to check up on her. 

“Don’t you think you should take it easy?” A man asked approaching Amanda, he was the perfect guy. The guy she would eventually wind up in bed with. 

“Oh, I didn’t know my dad was here.” 

“Snippy, aren’t you?”

“I could be more.” It was constant flirting between the two, nonstop. On flirted and the other responded it went on and on until Amanda had so many drinks in side of her she couldn’t’ even tell what color his eyes were anymore. Eventually, they moved to the outside of the bar, Amanda so drunk she didn’t realize he was referring to her as a different name. He gripped her waist shoving her into the alley and into a nearby wall with brute force. Her held her to the wall, attacking her lips with his own and starting to unbutton her pants. 

“Stop.” She protested, pushing him off of her. 

“What the hell?’ He shouted as she broke free, walking away from him and pulling her hair back ap into a ponytail. “Hey, you get off on getting guys hard and leaving ‘em?” 

“I’m not driunk enough.’ She said stumbling back into the bar and finding another seat closer to the liqour. 

It hadn’t felt like she hadn’t drank in years, the burning sensation from the mans beard still lingered as the wetness of his lips had yet to dry along her neck. Meanwhile Nick and Maison entered the bar, her hand in her jacket pockets and Nick starting to take off his. 

“What if i dyed my hair red?” She asks as they sat a teh bar. 

“I-I don’t know.” he said chuckling at her, he didn’t think he would recognize her with red ahri. 

‘What? I can’t pull it off?” She asks twirling a few strands in Nicks’ face. 

nick was starting to answer when he heard Amanda's voice from across the room. “Hey, just give me another one.” He looked around immediately loosing focus on Maison to find Amanda. She was a mess, her blonde hair smeared all over her face.

“What?” Maison asked noticing the change in his demeanor. 

“Amanda’s here?” 

“Drunkie Amanda?” Maison asked dropping her hair and turning to direction Nick was looking. 

Nick’s eyes moved back and forth from Amanda to Maison. “You know, I’ve got a few things to say to her.” Maison said standing up.

Nick grabs her jacket, pulling her towards him. “No, Maise, we’re here to drink.” 

“I don’t get you.” She shook her head a little while raising the glass of alcohol to her lips. “ I mean she begs you to hit her and you’re still not mad with her? Are you incapable of being mad at women?”

“Maison, it’s not that.” He says glancing over at Amanda again. “She just need help.” 

“Mentally.” 

They sat drinking their beers trying to ignore the sounds of Amanda arguing with some man. Maison had all but given up, realizing that no mater what she said about Amanda, Nick would ultimately defend her. Just as he was about to when Nick heard Amanda for the third time yell at some guy for touching her. 

“Nick.” Maison pleaded when she say him stand up. “We’re here to drink!” She whined. “Nick!” She groans. “I can’t go over there but sure, you can.” She says to herself.