#she knew exactly how wrong it was and literally nothing on earth j/o did could have justified destroying years' worth of hard work

[herawell]

Every day I come closer and closer to writing a fic where Ma/rmee beats the absolute crap out of A/my for burning J/o's book and ensures the rest of the family shuns her for a long, long, time. And doesn't tell J/o to get over it before the sun sets.

[cacoetheswriting]

fluff alphabet - spencer reid

A = Attractive (what do they find attractive about the other?)

It would be safe to say you’re strangerly attracted to his genius. Many people find it annoying, how he spits facts completely unwarranted, but not you. His vast knowledge of quite literally anything is what sparked your interest in the young doctor in the first place.

Spencer on the other hand is captivated by your smile. The kindness behind it; how truly genuine it always is. He especially likes when he is the reason that smile spreads across your face, from cheek to cheek, illuminating your perfect features.

B = Baby (do they want a family? why/why not?)

Definitely yes, and you know Spencer would make a great dad. He has a way with kids and it comes to him so naturally. Frankly you can’t wait for the day you get to tell him you’re expecting.

C = Cuddle (how do they cuddle?)

One arm wrapped securely around you, pulling you in as close to him as possible. Your head resting on his shoulder landing just below his chin. He smells your hair taking in the scent of your shampoo before placing a soft kiss on the top of your head. 

D = Dates (what are dates with them like?)

He likes to take you out to the movies where you share popcorn and a large soda. A lot of coffee dates where he enlightens you on books he read or reread and you fill him in on the latest pop culture gossip. Nothing too adventurous but never boring.

E = Everything (“you are my ____” (e.g my life, my world…))

“You’re my home.” Spencer whispered, his hands cupping your face. You blinked a couple of times registering what he just said but before you got a chance to respond he continued. “When I’m with you, I feel so comfortable and at peace. I can truly be myself around you, no judgement or scrutiny.” He took a soft breath. “When I’m with you I feel at home and that doesn't make much sense to me but you’ve told me before that not everything has to make sense. Especially when it comes to love.”

F = Feelings (when did they know they were falling in love?)

One evening at a bar with your friends you repeated a fact to the group that Spencer had told you earlier in the week. It caught him off guard because no-one really listens to the rambles that come out of his mouth. Yet here you were, the biggest smile on your face as you reiterated: “chewing gum boosts concentration.”. You glanced at the young doctor from across the table. His eyes lit up as they locked with yours. That’s when he knew. 

G = Gentle (are they gentle? If so, how?)

Spencer is one of the gentlest souls you have ever met. He has an incredibly pure and kind heart. He always puts you first and would never dare to do anything that could hurt you. Your happiness is his priority and even though he’s not the most physical person he always does everything in his power to make you see how loved you are. 

H = Hand/Hold (how do they like to hold? how do they like to hold hands?)

For many reasons he isn't the biggest fan of public displays of affection. But when he does hold your hand, he traces down your fingers gently with his own before intertwining them. He’d then lift your hand to his lips and place a soft kiss on your knuckle.

I = Impression (first impression/s)

At first Spencer found you quite hard to read. He’s usually not good at social cues or interactions therefore it took him longer than the rest of the team to really get to know you. 

You on the other hand were instantly mesmerised by the young doctor. The wealth of knowledge he possessed was captivating and in a way inspiring.

J = Joker (are they into pulling pranks?)

Definitely; Spencer loves a good practical joke. He also has quite a good sense of humour. Not everyone always understands his jokes but they never fail to make you giggle.

K = Kisses (how do they kiss?)

When Spencer kisses you he does so with all his might. Unlike his usual gentle demeanour, when he kisses you it’s always with immense passion. He cups your face with his hands and pulls you in as close as humanly possible. 

L = Love (who says I love you first?)

You do - however completely by accident. “Did you know nutmeg can be fatally poisonous?” Spencer asked as the barista handed you a brown paper bag with a pumpkin dessert bar inside. “A little dash of nutmeg in a pumpkin pie or on your eggnog gives it extra flavour Spencer.” You noted flashing him a smile. “Too much nutmeg, however, can be toxic. Two to three teaspoons of raw nutmeg can induce hallucinations, convulsions, pain, nausea, and paranoia that can last for several days.” He stated. You couldn't help but laugh. “I love you Spencer but I’m not going to die because of a sweet indulgence.” It took you a second to register what you just said. Your free hand travelled to your mouth covering it with a soft gasp. “Shit Spencer, I didn-” “You love me?” He interrupted. All you could do was nod in response. 

M = Memory (their favourite moment together)

After a particularly hard case Spencer drives you home, like he has done so many times before. He walks you to the door of your apartment and waits until you are safely inside. He places a soft kiss on your forehead and says goodnight - which is when you ask him to come inside, stay the night. Rather than going to sleep however you stay up baking what turned out to be the worst brownies either of you have ever tasted. 

N = Nickel (do they spoil? do they buy the person they love everything?)

Spencer is not an overly material person. He prefers to shower you with words of affirmation and subtle compliments. Although when he does give you a gift it is always extremely thoughtful and definitely something that means a lot to the two of you.

O = Orange (what colour reminds them of their other half?)

If he had to associate a colour with you it would be yellow. Yellow - the colour of optimism. The colour of sunshine and enthusiasm. It stimulates the left side of the brain, helping with clear thinking and quick decision making. 

P = Pet names (what pet names do they use?)

He shortened your name. It was unintentional when it first happened but you liked the way it sounded so it stuck. You on the other hand, if you’re not using his first name, usually call him ‘honey’ or ‘sugar’ which he used to hate. If you’re feeling giddy you’ll call him by the original nickname you came up before you were dating: ‘suspence’.

Q = Questions (what are the questions they’re always asking?)

“Are you okay?” - you are his priority therefore he likes to make sure nothing is ever wrong. “Do you need anything?” “How are you feeling?” 

R = Rainy Day (what do they like to do on a rainy day?)

When the weather outside is far from ideal and the two of you are not out working a case, Spencer likes to curl up on the couch with you. He’ll put on an old back and white movie as you provide the drinks.  

S = Sad (how do they cheer themselves/each other up)

If he’s feeling sad you find yourself reaching for a random book on his shelf and reading the first few chapters aloud. His head rests in your lap, eyes closed, as he listens to the sweet sound of your voice. 

If you’re feeling down, Spencer will draw you a bath. He’ll light a couple of candles and dot them around the bathroom. He’ll play relaxing music through the speaker of his phone as the two of you enjoy the warm water together. 

T = Talking (what do they love to talk about?)

The short answer, everything. You never run out of topics to discuss and the conversation flow is always pleasantly smooth. 

U = Unencumbered (what helps them relax?)

Quite simply you. No-one knows Spencer the way you do and even though the two of you haven't been together for very long you know exactly what to say or do to calm him down.

V = Vaunt (what do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

Spencer is modest which is one of the things you admire about him. The one thing he truly shows off is his knowledge of pretty much everything - even if he does it unintentionally. 

W = Wedding (when, how, where do they propose?)

“Almost fifty percent of all marriages in the United States end in divorce or separation.” Spencer said turning off the documentary you just finished watching. “Researchers estimate that forty-one percent of all first marriages end in divorce.” He continued. “Well, lets hope when we get married we’ll be in the lucky fifty-nine percent that lasts.” You teased, a small smile circling your lips.

X = Xylophone (what’s their song?)

Let’s Groove by Earth, Wind & Fire. The song was queued by Penelope at one of Rossi’s famous get togethers - before you and Spencer were dating. She swayed and twirled, soon joined by Morgan, as the rest of the group watched and laughed. You glanced at the young doctor and before he got a chance to protest you dragged him into the middle of the room to dance. 

Y = You’re the ___ to my ___ (e.g the cookies to my milk, the macaroni to my cheese)

“You’re the Holmes to my Watson.” He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Why am I not Watson?” “Because you’re not that kind of doctor.” You nudged Spencer playfully. He couldn't help but laugh under his breath. “That is a terrible analogy.” “Terrible or not, it’s true.” 

Z = Zebra (if they wanted a pet, what pet would they get?)

He wouldn't want a pet for now. The job is too demanding, he’s away for long periods of time and there'd be no-one to take care of it. Perhaps in the future, when you’re married and have kids. Perhaps. 

-

[hashtagleh]

This is What Would Be Considered a Morally Grey Area

read it on AO3

by HashtagLEH

“Will you please, kidnap me?” Warlock requested in the same tone of voice he had asked to go to the zoo the day before.

��Of course not, Warlock,” Aziraphale said immediately. “You are very safe here. The security is flawless.”

“Don’t lie to him!” Crowley hissed, clutching the boy closer to him as though it would make him forget the words the angel had just spoken. “Do you want the Prince of This World to remember you as a liar at the time of the Apocalypse?”

“Mommy and Daddy wouldn’t even care!” Warlock went on insistently, paying no heed to his nanny’s nonsense words. They made no sense, anyway.

“Of course they would, Warlock,” Crowley said immediately. “After they noticed you were gone, anyway.”

Words: 6152, Chapters: 1/1

Fandoms: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Good Omens (TV)

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley & Warlock Dowling, Aziraphale & Warlock Dowling, Nanny Ashtoreth & Warlock Dowling, Warlock Dowling & Brother Francis, Warlock Dowling & Adam Young, Brian & Pepper & Wensleydale & Adam Young (Good Omens), Warlock Dowling & the Them (Good Omens)

Characters: Warlock Dowling, Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale (Good Omens), Harriet Dowling, Thaddeus J. Dowling, Adam Young (Good Omens), Mr. Young (Good Omens), Arthur Young

Additional Tags: Protective Crowley, Godparents Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Softie Crowley (Good Omens), Kidnapping, Surprise Adoption Really, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, semi-seriously anyway, Attempt at Humor, it came out more serious than I intended, Child Neglect, The Dowlings Are Terrible Parents, Aziraphale and Crowley Are Wonderful Parents, and kidnappers, they take their jobs very seriously, jobs as parents and as kidnappers, look Warlock literally begged for them to kidnap him, Crowley Can't Resist Puppy Eyes, Aziraphale Can't Resist Crowley, He Can Resist Anything, Anything Except Temptation, Matchmaker Warlock, He knows they love each other, JUST KISS ALREADY Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Not Canon Compliant, Dad Crowley (Good Omens), Dad Aziraphale (Good Omens), Humor, Nanny Crowley (Good Omens), Nanny Ashtoreth (Good Omens) - Freeform, Gardener Aziraphale (Good Omens)

Crowley knew that the brunch was important.

Or, at least he assumed that it was. It was what he tried convincing to himself, so that he didn’t have to think about the fact that Harriet Dowling was not one he would count as a good mother. Neither of the Dowlings were fit to be parents, to be completely truthful about it. And when he let himself think about those things, he wondered if maybe they had only had a child because it was the Expected thing to do.

And Crowley liked Warlock. He was curious, sometimes a brat – but then all kids were. It meant he was doing his job right, to see the boy acting normal like that.

But what Warlock needed were parents who actually cared about him, and wanted to be around him and play with him. He needed to know that his parents loved him.

He told himself it was because if Warlock didn’t feel loved by his parents then he would have no real desire to destroy the earth when he was eleven and reached his destiny, and definitely not because it hurt something in Crowley’s chest when the boy was crying about missing his mom or wishing his dad could come play catch with him in the garden.

Harriet had told her son the night before that they could go to the zoo that day, if he just went to sleep right then and stopped trying to bother her. (This was particularly tempting, because the gardener had done a marvelous job at instilling a love of animals into the child, and his favorite books were generally ones with lots of different types of animals. Even Harriet had caught on to her son’s love of them and gifted him a large children’s encyclopedia at his last birthday. Well, she’d told Nanny Ashtoreth to go purchase it, but it was the thought that counted. It was one of the boy’s most treasured items.) The five-year-old had immediately lit up, not detecting the absentminded tone with which his mother spoke and believing her words in a way that only a young child could.

When Warlock had gotten up that morning, staying in his room until eight o’ clock because those were the rules Harriet had set out that she wasn’t to see him before then on any day, he had run to his mother’s room with talk of visiting lions and giraffes and monkeys on his lips.

But when Harriet had appeared in the hallway before Warlock had even gotten there, the boy had stopped in his tracks at the sight of her in a pink sundress, heels, and pearls, and it had only taken him a moment to understand. Yes, he was naïve enough to have believed her the night before, but he wasn’t stupid. She was dressed much too nicely for the zoo, and the heels were a dead giveaway that she had no intention to be walking around that day, much less among animals and food carts and suburban dads with fanny packs who reeked of sunscreen.

To her credit, she noticed Warlock as she was walking down the hall, but that was where the credit stopped building up. Without stopping or bending down to be at Warlock’s level (as Nanny did when she spoke with him), she said, “Oh, I’m sorry, sweetie – I have to go to a brunch with some of Daddy’s friends and their wives. We’ll try for the zoo another time, okay?”

And then she had been off in a flurry of pink, not even acknowledging Nanny Ashtoreth, who was standing at the end of the hallway and had watched everything that had just occurred.

Warlock had stood in the hallway a moment, and Crowley braced himself for the rage, for the earthquakes or fires or something to show how upset the Antichrist was. There was nothing he could do to stop it, so he just hoped that he had been a good enough nanny that Warlock didn’t want to set his sights on the demon, or on the angel who had probably just gotten to mangling tending to the rose bushes.

But Warlock had turned around then, tears in his eyes, and Crowley began to crouch down to accept the hug it appeared the boy was going to need, but then he just ran past the demon and back to his room, slamming the door decisively behind him.

***

Crowley allowed Warlock exactly six hundred and sixty-six seconds to cry alone in his bedroom, because he knew that that number was important to his infernal father so it was probably important to the son as well, and it just seemed a perfect number to round off of. After that eleven minutes and six seconds was over however, he rapped lightly on the door with his knuckles to let Warlock know he was coming in before opening it without waiting for a response. He was a demon, he wasn’t polite, and the only reason he knocked in the first place was because he didn’t want to startle the antichrist into discorporating him.

Warlock wasn’t crying anymore, but he still looked extraordinarily sad as he sat against the edge of his bed and brushed his fingers mournfully over the back of his stuffed lion. (Crowley had tried to get him attached to a better animal – a snake, perhaps – but the baby at the time was determined to like the lion the best. It wasn’t even a male lion – it had no mane. Harriet had mistaken it for a bear a few too many times because of it.)

“Why doesn’t Mommy like me?” Warlock asked when Crowley silently sat down beside him on the ground.

“I suspect it’s because she’s a terrible woman,” Crowley said blandly. What? He wasn’t going to lie to him – he didn’t want the antichrist remembering that his Nanny was a liar when the time for Armageddon came. That wouldn’t mean just an inconvenient discorporation – that was the path to definite destruction.

Warlock knew his nanny well enough that such a sentence was not out of the norm for her, and he didn’t say anything to try to argue with her. He thought privately that his nanny was probably right, though he didn’t want to say so out loud and make it true. Nanny always said he could control reality to his will, and he didn’t want to make his nanny’s words definitively true.

“Not to worry, Warlock,” Nanny said seriously. “One day, you will destroy every fool who’s ever wronged you and leave their corpses for the dogs.”

“You always say that, Nanny,” Warlock said glumly, and sniffed.

“Well, that just tells you it’s true!” Crowley posited. “Have you ever known me to lie to you, Warlock? No? I thought not. Trust every word I say. Now, come along. Brother Francis is probably wondering if we’ve forgotten about him, not having stopped by in so long.”

“We saw Brother Francis yesterday morning,” Warlock reminded her, but nonetheless rose to his feet.

“Yes, and he’s got just a terrible memory, so he probably won’t remember it anyway,” Crowley said in her usual no-nonsense tone. She raised an eyebrow at the way the boy raised both his arms in a clear directive that he wanted to be picked up. But this was a boy who would grow to be her master (though most days it felt like he already was, and it had nothing to do with him shaping reality but more to do with how she couldn’t deny the big brown eyes that looked up at her), and so with only a small sigh, she acquiesced, leaning down to lift him under the armpits and settle him on her hip.

“I don’t think Brother Francis has an awful memory,” Warlock told him seriously as they made the trek out of the room and down the stairs. “He ‘membered that you like the tulips more than the roses. Mommy likes roses more.”

“That’s because your mother is a basic woman, lacking in imagination,” Crowley sniffed. “And I should hope that Brother Francis remembers I like tulips. I destroyed the Dutch economy because of it.” Completely by accident, but it was still very memorable in history, even now, so he took credit for the economy drop rather than the gorgeous fields that the Netherlands boasted now.

“Daddy talks about economy,” Warlock remembered, likely picking out the only thing he’d comprehended in the last bit of that sentence.

“Your earthly father talks about anything if he thinks it’s important-sounding enough to know two bits about,” Crowley said drolly as he opened the back door to go out into the garden. One of the maids glanced at them, likely hearing the comment, before quickly looking away and finding something Very Important that she had to attend to immediately. “Now, your infernal father on the other hand only talks about Important things. Always remember, Warlock – if it sounds Unimportant or Stupid, don’t say it. And don’t agree with anyone else who says it either, because you are Above such things. Or Below, as the case may be.”

“D’you think you an’ Brother Francis could take me to the zoo sometime?” Warlock asked suddenly, perking up hopefully and lifting his head to look up at Nanny. He didn’t appear to have absorbed anything his nanny had just said.

“Er…” Crowley floundered, grasping at something to say. Take Warlock to the zoo? With Aziraphale? Not only did that sound like a disaster of epic proportions, because it was one thing to work in the same household, but going out in public was just asking for trouble from either of their respective sides – but also, what was he supposed to do if he did lose the antichrist along the way? Bless it, but he may as well descend into Satan’s lair himself and ask for destruction right then and there.

Warlock sensed his indecision, and like the manipulative little fiend that he was (Crowley may or may not have shed a tear or two of pride behind his sunglasses, but he would never say), he continued to wheedle for the answer he wanted.

“I wouldn’t run away, promise!” he exclaimed. “I’ll stay right next to you an’ Brother Francis the whole time, and I’ll be so quiet, you can just pretend you’re on a date with him!”

Crowley would never admit to gaping at the child at the last words that escaped this infernal child’s mouth, but anyone who saw it would say that that’s exactly what he did.

“Why would you think I want to go on a date with Az – with Brother Francis?”

The insufferable child actually rolled his eyes at that. “It’s obvious you like each other,” he said frankly. “He gives you tulips, and sometimes you look out the window when you know he’s working in the garden, and your face goes all—” He made a quite exaggerated impression of what could only be described as simpering, which Crowley definitely did not do. “—and when he talks about you sometimes, he gets this different little smile like he’s remembering something nice, and…”

“Alright, alright,” Crowley quickly shushed the boy as they drew near enough to be within Aziraphale’s range of hearing. Wouldn’t do to have the angel hear Warlock’s observations of why he thought they were in love – he would think the demon was filling the poor child’s ears with harmful nonsense again.

“I’ll take you to the zoo,” he promised, and when Warlock’s face lit up with excitement, he went on severely, “But only if you don’t tell Brother Francis anything you just told me. Keep it a secret, hm?”

“Now, what secrets could you possibly want to keep from me, Ms. Ashtoreth?” Aziraphale asked in his ridiculous accent as he heard the last bit of Crowley’s words.

“Warlock’s not telling,” Crowley said promptly, and Warlock nodded vigorously in agreement before wiggling to be let down. Before Aziraphale could press further, Crowley abruptly changed the subject. “When’s your next day off? Day after tomorrow, right? Excellent, we’re taking Warlock to the zoo, then.”

“We’re gonna see all the animals!” Warlock cheered, before going on his knees to be closer to a worm he found wiggling in the dirt. Crowley was disappointed that he wasn’t taking the initiative to slice it in pieces with a sharp rock as a young antichrist should, but perhaps that was because the gardener was right there. Harming the worm might make the angel cry, after all, and even Crowley didn’t want to see that.

Aziraphale’s eyebrows were currently raised very high on his face. Crowley wondered absently if the angel had intentionally made his eyebrows look like caterpillars, in some kind of homage to living creatures. It seemed like a thing the angel would do.

“Are you sure that’s allowed, Ms. Ashtoreth?” he asked carefully.

Crowley knew that Aziraphale was talking about their sides finding out and the wisdom in that, but he feigned ignorance on the matter and simply said, “The Dowlings will be out day after tomorrow, and there’s nothing wrong with Warlock’s nanny taking him out for the day. If you happen to be along, well it’s your day off and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Please, will you come, Brother Francis?” Warlock begged, looking up at the gardener beseechingly. Somehow, with the power that all children seemed to have to get filthy in just minutes, he already had dirt streaked across his cheek, lending to the whole innocent appeal. Crowley wondered if it was intentional, but he had also raised the boy long enough that he knew he got sticky and dirty with all manner of nonsense and couldn’t decide which option to chalk it up as.

Aziraphale was, of course, weaker than Nanny, and he agreed immediately to Warlock’s pleading. Crowley sniffed disdainfully, very carefully not thinking about how easy it had been for Warlock to convince him to go, either.

***

“She is quite a terrible mother,” Crowley mused that night as he sat in Aziraphale’s cottage at the back of the property. He was nursing a bottle of wine, though whether it was the second or the sixth he couldn’t remember anymore. Didn’t matter. He’d sober up before leaving so he wouldn’t be hungover for the rather taxing job of corralling a baby antichrist.

“Crowley, she is trying her best,” Aziraphale chided, but Crowley knew it was halfhearted at best, more out of a habit to argue with Crowley now than anything else.

“Except when she’s not,” Crowley countered. “She tells him things, promises him things, and then doesn’t follow through on them. What am I supposed to do here, angel? I can’t parent him.”

Aziraphale chuckled a bit. “No, certainly not. What’s a demon – or an angel, for that matter – supposed to do with a child?”

“Well, he’s only half human,” Crowley reminded him. “Other half is completely Satanic spawn. So maybe we wouldn’t screw it up completely.”

They were silent for a moment, staring at their bottle and glass respectively, and then they both looked up to meet each others’ eyes at the same time. It was a meaningful stare, one of suggestion, a what if?

A moment later, they both began laughing at the absurdity of it.

“As though we’d actually kidnap him,” Crowley chuckled, taking a swig off his bottle.

“Goodness, I’m an angel – angels don’t do these things,” Aziraphale chuckled, a trifle uneasily. “Kidnapping, honestly.”

***

“We should’ve kidnapped him years ago,” Crowley declared the next day as he patted a weeping Warlock’s back. “I don’t know what’s been keeping us, honestly. The Dowlings are clearly unfit…”

“Are you mad?” Aziraphale hissed in such a serpentine-like way that he could’ve been the one mistaken for the demon at that moment. “Don’t talk about these things in front of – of him!” he pointed his little shovel at Warlock, who was getting quite a bit of snot and tears on his nanny’s shoulder. “He’ll think we’re serious!”

“First of all, I am serious,” Crowley glared, partly because he wanted to impart the fact to Aziraphale that he was in fact serious, but also because he was resisting the urge to miracle the snot away. Honestly, this was his best blouse, and his shoulder was soaked enough that he felt it through to the skin. “Secondly, he’s crying loudly enough he probably can’t hear what we’re saying, anyway. Thirdly, he probably doesn’t even know what kidnapping means.”

“We can’t do things like this, Cr – Ashtoreth,” Aziraphale told him sternly. “And we certainly shouldn’t be talking about it, where anyone could hear us.”

“Think about it, angel,” Crowley said. “Don’t think of it as kidnapping the antichrist. Think of it as kidnapping a normal boy.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?!”

“A normal boy, who is neglected by his parents and feels unloved by both,” Crowley amended. “His father got home this evening, and Warlock wanted to show him the picture that he drew yesterday with you. You know what Thaddeus said? He said that he didn’t have time for little boys’ projects, and he was needed back at work quickly before shoving his son – his son – aside to get to the kitchen.”

“He shoved him,” Aziraphale repeated flatly, eyes sparking.

Sensing weakness, Crowley pressed, “Perhaps it was not meant to be painful physically, but now we have a crying little boy on our hands who just wants his parents to love him. We can do that ourselves!”

“Are you sure you love the boy, though?” Aziraphale asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow. “I thought demons weren’t capable of love.”

“And I thought angels were supposed to love and help everyone, regardless of their age or the size of their footprint in the world, and yet here we are,” Crowley said snidely, hardly noticing that he had inadvertently confirmed that he loved the little hellspawn. If it convinced the angel that kidnapping the little Antichrist was in fact the best option, he didn’t particularly care what he admitted to.

“This isn’t just a footprint though, Crowley – this is…” Aziraphale glanced at the boy, and then lowered his voice to a whisper so that Warlock couldn’t hear – “This is the antichrist. He won’t make a footprint; he’ll reduce the earth to mud.”

“If we leave him here, that’s certainly how it’s going to go,” Crowley agreed, continuing to pat the Dread Lord Junior on his back, an attempt to soothe. He never knew if he was doing this comforting thing correctly, but what he had deduced from the five years of raising the little brat, sometimes humans just needed to be held. Sometimes it worked, but sometimes – like now – they just kept crying.

Suddenly, said Lord of Darkness pulled back, and the angel and demon both silenced as the boy looked at Crowley through teary eyes that had suddenly become pleading and determined.

“Will you please, kidnap me?” he requested in the same tone of voice he had asked to go to the zoo the day before.

“Of course not, Warlock,” Aziraphale said immediately. “You are very safe here. The security is flawless.”

“Don’t lie to him!” Crowley hissed, clutching the boy closer to him as though it would make him forget the words the angel had just spoken. “Do you want the Prince of This World to remember you as a liar at the time of the Apocalypse?”

“Mommy and Daddy wouldn’t even care!” Warlock went on insistently, paying no heed to his nanny’s nonsense words. They made no sense, anyway.

“Of course they would, Warlock,” Crowley said immediately. “After they noticed you were gone, anyway.” They weren’t the most observant of parents, indeed.

“Cr – Ashtoreth, don’t say such things!” Aziraphale scolded. “Warlock, you can’t really want to never see your parents again, do you? They do love you, after all. In their own way.”

“Do not,” Warlock pouted, crossing his arms in front of him. Aziraphale appeared quite at a loss at what to say or how to try reassuring the brunette. Served him right – he was using faulty logic, anyway. Faulty because it was just wildly untrue and they all knew it.

“What did I tell you about lying, angel?” Crowley said with a raised eyebrow, first at Aziraphale and then at Warlock, still seated in his lap. “He can detect lies, anyway – he’s the Father of them.”

Warlock nodded emphatically, understanding enough from his nanny’s comments to know generally what they were talking about. “Daddy tells Mommy he loves her all the time, but he always leaves her alone. And he says he’ll play catch with me when he gets back from his trip, but then he shoves me away when I come to him with my baseball. And Mommy says she’s in love with Daddy, but she kisses Mr. Richardson when no one’s looking, and you’re only s’posed to kiss the lips of people you love. I know when people are lyin’ to me.”

“Be that as it may,” Aziraphale said in a slightly perturbed voice at the fact that the five-year-old was so caught up in the gossip of the house, though slightly altered to a child’s understanding, “We can’t just kidnap you, Warlock. It’s not right.”

“Nanny says that ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ don’t matter,” Warlock said, and looked at Crowley as though to test her on whether or not she would back him up or back up Brother Francis.

“He’s got us there,” Crowley said with a smirk. At Aziraphale’s flat look, his own expression became exasperated. “Oh, come on, angel! It’d be fun! I could replace him with a toad, and no one would even notice.”

“Yeah!” Warlock cheered, sensing weakness in the gardener. “And you an’ Nanny can be my new Mommy and Daddy, ‘cause mommies and daddies are s’posed to love each other so they love their kids more too, and I already love you guys, and you guys love me, and you love each other!”

Crowley and Aziraphale were both caught by a sudden coughing fit, and Warlock was curious to see the gardener’s normally ruddy cheeks flush even darker, and even Nanny’s cheeks pinked a bit. Adults were weird, he decided.

“Well, I think it’s just about your bed time,” Crowley said abruptly, rising to his feet with Warlock still on his hip. “You’ll need lots of energy to be able to go to the zoo tomorrow.”

“But Nanny,” Warlock whined, “I want you to kidnap me!”

“We’ll talk about it after the zoo trip, and not a moment before,” Crowley said strictly, ignoring the sudden sharp look that Aziraphale sent his way. “Remember that this is our secret though, alright? Don’t tell anyone what we’ve been talking about, or it’s a definite ‘no’ to the kidnapping.”

“Okay, Nanny,” Warlock said sullenly, leaning limply into the woman’s side, resting his head on her angular shoulder.

“It’s still a definite ‘no’,” Aziraphale muttered to himself, but smiled when Warlock waved farewell to him. He didn’t like the look in Crowley’s expression, though.

***

“Warlock, come see the lions!” Crowley called to the boy standing beside the gardener a few feet away. Warlock was licking at a popsicle in his hand that was somehow miraculously (heh) not melting, despite the hot August weather and the fact that he’d been holding it for ten minutes now. Aziraphale had a sugary-looking monstrosity of an ice cream cone, which he’d tried to convince Warlock to get too, but the boy had wanted a popsicle more.

“Yes, those ‘re your favorite, aren’t they?” Aziraphale cajoled the sullen child. He’d been in a mood ever since he got up that morning, and even said that he didn’t want to go to the zoo. For some reason though that Warlock could not understand, Nanny had insisted on their going anyway, saying that he would regret it if he didn’t go. Not in a threatening way of course, because while Nanny was known to make subtle threats to just about everyone else, he never did with him. Warlock thought she was weird, because he knew that she didn’t like people – especially lots of people all gathered together in one place, crying and carrying on and generally making lots of noise. She said it sounded like Hell, making Warlock wonder how Nanny knew that. (Because she was obviously alive, so she couldn’t go to Hell, at least not yet, though Warlock thought that maybe Nanny would like it there because it was dark and gloomy and she was generally a dark and gloomy person. He’d heard one of the cooks call her a “goth” before, which he didn’t know exactly what that meant but thought that it was a word that must fit Nanny perfectly, because it sounded right.)

“I don’t care ‘bout lions,” Warlock said with a frown, even as he followed the gardener over to where Nanny was standing in front of the lion enclosure.

“You can lie all you want to everyone else, but what did I say about lying to me?” Nanny said with an arched eyebrow.

“To not to.”

“That’s right, you impossible little fiend. Now come up here – I can lift you up so you can see them better.”

Although Warlock was excited to see a Real Live Lion, he still gave a deep, heaving sigh as though obeying his nanny was a great burden placed upon him, trudging forward to stand in front of her. She immediately lifted him up into the familiar place on her hip that he always sat at in this position, pointing a gloved hand across the embankment to the other side, where a male lion was sleeping beside its mate. As they watched, the male lion rolled onto its back, legs spreading like the oversized cat it really was.

“I think I’ll call him Sir Joystick,” Crowley said thoughtfully.

“Ashtoreth!”

“Lions aren’t like cars, Nanny – they don’t have joy sticks.”

“No, Warlock, you’re right – what was I thinking?” Nanny said, a laugh in her voice that Warlock didn’t understand. “Oh, calm down, Francis – he’s five. And am I wrong?”

Warlock didn’t really understand or particularly care what they were talking about, because his mind was on the fact that he had to go back home after the day was over, and have to go back home for many days after that because Nanny and Brother Francis for some reason refused to kidnap him. He wasn’t really excited to be at the zoo because of it, because he had hoped for a little bit that Nanny and Brother Francis would say yes, and now the hope wasn’t there anymore. They were going about everything like it was normal, and even though Nanny had said they could talk about it after the zoo trip, he knew enough to know that this “maybe” was almost definitely a “no.”

They stopped for lunch at a little cart selling corn dogs, and Warlock was gratified to see that Nanny remembered that he didn’t like ketchup and asked only for a strip of mustard on the food. He didn’t show his gratitude though, still upset with the two, and ate his corn dog in silence while Nanny and Brother Francis tried to draw him into conversation about the animals they had seen so far, eventually giving up and chatting with each other.

After lunch, they went to the monkey enclosures to see lots of different apes and chimpanzees. On the other side of the enclosure was a spot out in the grass where the gorillas could wander in the sun.

When they got outside, Nanny suddenly lifted him without warning, and though Warlock was startled because usually he was the one to ask to be picked up he still instinctively wrapped his legs around her hips to accommodate the usual position.

“Look at that one!” Nanny said, pointing at a random one in the distance that didn’t seem to be doing anything particularly special or different from the others, except that it was bigger than all of them. He didn’t really understand what was so exciting about that one. Or any of them, really.

Then Nanny pressed her lips close to Warlock’s ear, breath causing his hairs to move and slightly tickling him with the motion.

“Warlock,” Nanny said quietly, voice almost unheard in the sounds around them. “You’re not going home today, alright? Everything will be just fine.”

Warlock stared at Nanny when she pulled back a bit, not sure he understood correctly but hope blooming in his chest nonetheless. A moment later, he pressed his own lips to Nanny’s ear (the one with the cool snake tattoo next to it), because that’s how secrets were supposed to be told.

“Are you an’ Brother Francis gonna kidnap me?” he whispered loudly.

“I prefer to call it surprise adoption,” Nanny said smoothly with a wink he could see through the dark glasses.

Warlock turned that over in his head, and a moment later he positively beamed as he understood that he was correct. He looked over at Brother Francis, who was humming quietly to himself and glancing around casually – but maybe not so casually. Miraculously, no one else was around the fence that showed the gorillas across the grassy embankment. Warlock wondered if Nanny or Brother Francis was magic, to be able to make sure everyone left them alone.

“I can keep a secret,” Warlock said proudly. “I won’t tell anyone, ever.”

“Good,” Nanny said briskly in her usual no-nonsense tone, though Warlock thought her eyes maybe looked a little softer than normal. “Because we’re going to need your help with this, little hellspawn.”

Warlock didn’t know what kind of help Nanny and Brother Francis would need from him – they were adults, after all, and he was just a kid – but he was more than willing to do whatever his new mommy and daddy wanted of him.

The rest of the zoo trip was a lot more fun, too.

***

True to his word, Crowley replaced Warlock Dowling with a toad. He used a few miracles to change his appearance and make him able to grow with Warlock’s DNA, so he would appear to grow up totally normal, and Aziraphale contributed with his own miracles of giving him Warlock’s surface memories. Wouldn’t do to have a boy suddenly in the house with only the memories of a toad, after all. That might be too much for someone not to notice.

Crowley and Aziraphale quit their jobs in the same week, despite Harriet’s pleas that she would give both of them raises if they stayed on. The staff of the Dowling household were their usual gossipy selves, and drew the conclusion that the two of them had eloped. They largely ignored the toad-turned-five-year-old, as they always had, and the next nanny (because Harriet still wasn’t going to raise her son – he was much too young for her to relate to yet) didn’t care enough to notice that the boy was a bit odd and croaked when stressed or annoyed, or sometimes looked like he was hopping rather than walking. Rich people were eccentric, after all – no need to be alarmed.

The boy once known as Warlock Dowling became Warlock Crowley-Fell, though he wouldn’t realize for another few months where exactly his new parents had pulled the names from. He was a quite normal boy, aside from being lullabied to sleep with strange versions of “The Grand Old Duke of York” or being instructed to love spiders rather than shriek and squish them with the nearest shoe, as most were wont to do.

He lived out in the country, in a little town called Tadfield, because his parents always said that it was the “least likely place they would go looking for him”.

He wasn’t ever sure if they were talking about his old parents or someone else.

He was an odd boy, to be certain, but none of the town members blamed him. He would turn out odd, with parents like that. Not because they were gay, of course. But there was just something about that Mr. Crowley and Mr. Fell that was strange. A certain Arthur Young thought he might have heard the seven-year-old call his father (who looked vaguely familiar every time the man saw him, but he just couldn’t quite put his finger on it) “Nanny” once, which was quite odd, but he didn’t make a habit of judging other people and dismissed it. Besides, Warlock was such a nice boy – a bit of a brat sometimes but then so was his own son. They would certainly grow out of it, as most boys did.

It wasn’t as though either of them were the antichrist, after all.

Warlock was quite happy in this new life, too. He continued to enjoy digging around in the garden with Brother Francis – whom he had to remember to call “Pops” in front of other people – and took the news that Nanny was sometimes a man with the frank understanding that came from growing up around the unusual. Some things were just explained by the fact that “it’s Nanny”, and that was that.

On his eleventh birthday, Nanny – er, Dad, that is – and Pops seemed to be expecting something from him all day. They celebrated his birthday as usual, though they couldn’t help seeming a bit…on edge. Warlock dismissed it, because that was just his parents for you, always acting odd, and asked if he could go play with Adam and Them in the woods.

“Be back before dark,” Dad had called, glancing at Pops. “And if you see a dog, don’t name it!” Warlock sighed and rolled his eyes, hopping on his bike and riding away to meet with his friends.

A couple of hours later, he came back to the house, suspicions once again aroused that his dads were psychic, but not particularly good at it, because things always happened around him when they expected it to happen to him.

“Dad, Pops!” Warlock called as he stepped inside the house. The evening sun set everything inside the house in a soft yellow glow. It was familiarly calming – it felt like home.

“Did a dog come to you?” was the first thing that Dad demanded when he came into the living room, where Pops was reading a book in his recliner and the sun made it look like his head was surrounded by a halo.

“No,” Warlock huffed. “Mr. Young got Adam a dog, though. Well, he let him keep it, anyway. It was just running around in the forest.”

“Adam got a dog,” Dad repeated. Pops closed his book and blinked at Warlock in confusion, like things just weren’t quite computing in his head.

Warlock nodded impatiently. “Uh-huh. An’ it’s small enough that it’s not going to mess up their house, but he has to wash it first before it’s allowed in because it smells like poo. He named it Dog, though. That’s a boring name.”

Dad and Pops shared a very significant look with each other. Warlock rolled his eyes. They were always doing that, as though Warlock didn’t know that they were totally in love with each other, even though he’d never seen them kiss. Still, he knew when people were lying, and he knew that his parents loved each other.

“Warlock,” Dad said, turning his serpentine gaze to him. “We need to have a little talk.”

And then it all came out, that his parents were actually and angel and a demon (he really couldn’t even pretend to be surprised at that, because it made sense) and they had come to the Dowling house to raise him to stop Armageddon, which was the end of the world, which they had thought Warlock would start, but now it looked like maybe his friend Adam was the actual antichrist, and they would probably need his help to stop Armageddon anyway, and in the end he ended up being there on the American air base and did indeed help in stopping it, and when his dads were taken by Heaven and Hell to be put on trial he was safely ensconced in the Young household in a surprise sleepover to keep him safe and a secret from both sides, and Warlock thought it was a bit weird to know that one of his best friend’s parents were also his parents, but also not really his parents because Crowley and Aziraphale had raised him for much longer and he kept everything a secret from the Youngs, anyway, and when all was said and done he continued to grow up in Tadfield with an angel and a demon as his parents, and he may have finally (with the help of Them) gotten the two of them to officially get together, and a normal fairy tale book would call it a perfectly nice “Happily Ever After”.

But that’s another story.

[alexiela73]

Hi I’m just really upset right now and your blog always cheers me up. I was wondering if you could do a fic where reaper’s s/o loses a friend because they annoyed them too much and s/o has been apologizing profusely but nothing worked. Just need someone to be there even if that person isn’t real.

Hello, sweetheart. I am suppose to be going to bed right now so I can work my double shift today, but I would like to try and help so we’ll see how this turns out, okay? Again, please feel free to message me if you’d like someone to talk to

Also, we’re gonna call this friend ‘Opal’. No offense to anyone named Opal, and certainly no offense to Pearl and Amethyst from Steven Universe (you SU fans know what I’m talking about)

For a moment, it felt like the earth had fallen away from you. Clutched in your hands was your phone, and you stared down at the device in what started as disbelief and shock before it slowly morphed into grief, denial and utter emotional pain.

This kind of pain was rather intimate. Like a betrayal, one that felt like it could rip you in half. It was the kind of pain you felt when you lost a loved one, someone who had been there for you for a very long time. Someone you felt very close to and thought that you’d probably have for the rest of your life.

The cause for this pain was a text on the screen, sent by the one you considered one of your best friends. It has been a solid ten years since the two of you met. In a way, the two of you had been a lot like siblings. After meeting in middle school, the two of you had been as thick as thieves. When one family went out, the other bestie went too.

Yet in the last year, you felt like there was somewhat of a rift forming between the two of you. Instantly you had tried to mend the gap, trying to spend time with Opal and talking to them when you could. Yet Opal no longer had seemed interested in half of what the two of you did. Opal no longer tried to initiate contact with you and her replies seemed rather half-assed.

You tried telling yourself it was nothing. The two of you were still friends. It wasn’t necessary to be together all the time for that to be true….yet… the text before you told you that all your efforts to keep the friendship going apparently had been wasted.

‘I’m sorry but I can’t deal with you anymore. Your annoying and honestly rather boring. I’ve moved on already and I don’t need you anymore. It’s time you moved on too.’

Short and simple, at least. In a way, you wish it had been longer. You wish you knew exactly when the relationship had started to fall apart. Or that you’d known a way to mend it. And yet, in the same sentence the woman who had been your best friend had said you were annoying and boring.

I…I annoyed her too much, you thought distantly, this is my fault. This has to be my fault. But maybe if I just…

The moment you had a solid thought in your head, you started typing. You ignored how the front door opened, your rather emo boyfriend kicking off his boots and growling as he headed for the kitchen with a swish of his coat.

Gabriel Reyes, also known as the Talon operative Reaper, has been your boyfriend for the last two years. It was an odd relationship in the beginning, but despite his gruff attitude and wicked temper, you’d matched him well and kept him in line. The two of you loved each other, and it had made you so happy when Opal had approved of him…

“What’s going on?” Reaper growled, walking into the living room and seeing the pale color of your face as your fingers frantically ran across the keys of your phone.

“J-Just a minute, okay-” you started to say, and hit send. You ended up sending Opal a long message about how you were so sorry for upsetting her, how you were willing to do anything to make it better. Surely she would understand and give it another try once she read it, you thought.

Frowning, Reaper took off his mask and set it on the side table before walking over to pick up your cat off the DVD player. It was a small, fluffy black cat named ‘Phantom’ and despite his aversion to cats and anything breathing, he and the cat had bonded instantly.

Staring at your phone, you chewed on your lip, hopeful. Opal was reasonable, a kind person…she would understand…she would…

The phone vibrated in your hand, and the message popped up on the screen. For a moment you stared eagerly, and then once more you felt hollow at you read the text.

‘I said leave me alone! Why won’t you just go away?’

Heart thundering in your chest, the phone slipped from your fingers and immediately you covered your mouth with your hand. Tears had already filled your eyes and were pouring freely down your cheeks and you trembled violently.

Reaper caught sight of you and literally dropped Phantom. Striding over in three long steps, Reaper scooped you into his arms without a thought, his face stone cold as he realized something or someone had made you cry like this. What hurt more was the pure anguish in your eyes.

“What’s wrong, y/n,” Reaper asked, voice rough but edged with concern as he cradled you, sitting on the couch with you in his lap.

You couldn’t stop the tremors, your arms wrapping around yourself and you struggled to breath properly. All you could think of was what you had done wrong. How you had managed to fuck it up so badly. Opal was so important to you and you’d driven her away.

“O-Opal said s-s-she....” you whispered, but you couldn’t make the words come out. All that escaped your lips was a choked sob before you buried your face into his chest.

Picking up your phone delicately in his claws, Reaper studied the texts he saw and after a moment, his lips curled into a snarl as he crushed the phone in his grasp with as much ease as if he’d crumpled a paper. It filled him with rage and a protective urge to nestle you into a cocoon of blankets so that he could hold you and keep you safe from harm.

You didn’t care that he’d just destroyed your phone. Opal’s last messages were practically burned into your memory. Even though technically she had died, choosing to stop being friends with you after so many good years, years that could have kept going, hurt so much.

Friendship didn’t come to you easily...obviously, since you had driven away the one close friend you had. But it was important to you still, and you had wanted desperately to make it work. You were tired of losing people you loved. Why couldn’t you just do it right?

“Stop it,” Reaper said quietly, cradling you close in his arms. “I can see the little gears turning your head. You can’t blame yourself for her. You didn’t do anything wrong, y/n.” At this point, he had realized shooting things wasn’t going to make you feel any better.

Oh, it would make him feel better. But it wouldn’t stop the sobs and it certainly wouldn’t stop the hurt you felt.

Shaking your head slowly as you cried, you could barely find the breath to talk. “I-I m-m-m-must h-have. I-I’ve been...a-a-annoying h-her....a-a-and p-pestering h-h-her...I c-c-couldn’t e-even keep h-her...I-interested in o-our f-f-friendship,” you whimpered, clutching onto him.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you tried to will the pain in your chest away but it burned like a brand, and you knew it would sting for a while yet.

“You did nothing wrong, damn it,” Reaper growls, and a claw cups your face tenderly, lifting it to look up at him. “You are perfect. You didn’t do a damned thing wrong. I don’t want to see you blaming yourself over this, because she isn’t worth your tears,” he said seriously, thumb brushing across the arc of your cheek, his eyes studying yours.

Sniffling, you didn’t know if you could believe him. But looking at him, staring into those familiar eyes and that handsome, scarred face..having him there holding you was the only thing that made the pain lessen a bit. 

“It....It j-j-just h-hurts...s-so much...,” you whisper, wondering if he thought it was stupid for you to cry over Opal breaking up your friendship.

But Reaper didn’t. Like you, he had lost an important friendship too. Of course, it had been lost in a much different way...but he knew what it was like to need the person who was once a best friend to them. He knew what it was like to miss someone who was once close. 

Pulling you tighter into his arms, Reaper rested a cheek against your forehead, rocking you slowly in his arms. “I know,” he said quietly, voice softer then before. “I know, baby. It’ll be okay.”

Reaper wasn’t much for comforting, but he tried. You were the only thing that made him feel normal, and you were the only person he couldn’t stand to watch hurt in any way. So he would try, for you. If only to see you smile again..

Resting your head on his chest, the two of you stayed there together for a long time. Reaper let you cry. It was necessary, and he was sure you’d cry again once or twice. It was hard losing someone important. 

But he was determined to support you every step of the way.

[loveandpainfanfic]

S L E E P O V E R PT. 2

- J O R D A N

“Omg like this place is sick as hell!” Treasure said as she gawked at the living room as we walked through. She was always like this when she  came over.

“T it's just a house.” I said giggling at her facial expressions every time she saw something.

“I know but it seems so , magical. I wish my house was as lavish as this.” She said following me down to the basement where Raye and Cam was putting up decorations.

After leaving Treasure , I headed towards my room to get myself ready seeing as everyone should be arriving within the next 30 minutes. I walked into the connected bathroom that was in my room and turned on the shower , adjusting the temperature. Once I was satisfied , I waltzed over to my closet to quickly find something to wear , huffing loudly because out of all the damn clothes I had , I couldn’t find shit to wear. Becoming overly annoyed , I just left my closet and went back into my bathroom for my shower. Deciding on a song to play through my beats pill , I stripped out of my clothes just as Rihanna’s Love on the Brain blared through my speakers.

Letting the steamy water engulf my body rapidly, I hummed to the outstanding vocals of the one and only RiRi. Since I knew that my hair was gonna frizz up , I went ahead and washed it and contemplated on what I was gonna do to it as I lathered my Vanilla Creme & Strawberry body wash onto my pink loofah washing the rest on my body.

Rinsing under the shower head , I quickly wet my hair and repeated the same process to my hair as I did my body. Shutting the shower off and and stepping out I hissed as the cold air from the vent slapped onto my skin. Cursing myself for forgetting my towel I walked out of my room only to see my sister sitting on my bed with her head in her phone as she sang to You Belong To Somebody Else by Dej Loaf and Jacquees.

“You’re creepy as fuck Cam. You waiting on me to get out the shower and shit.” I said walking over to grab my pink silk robe to wrap around my naked body.

“Nah hoe you just so damn fine. I had to come see that ass.” She said playfully grabbing my booty as I reached for another towel to dry my already half-dried curls.

Laughing as I playfully slapped her hands away , I walked into my closet to glance at my wardrobe again. Turning my head from side to side multiple times I still saw nothing. I turned to my sister and she caught my drift as she joined me and began to look through my clothes.

“You wanna wear sneakers?” She asked. I nodded my head as she continued to look diligently. Feeling the need to do something I walked over to my dresser and pulled out my hair and makeup supplies.

Quickly deciding to leave my hair curly , I applied my makeup seeming as it took forever and a century. After I played around with my make-up, I smiled once I saw what Camilla had put together. My sister could dress like a mofo. I don’t even remember buying half of this stuff.

After what seemed like literally hours , I emerged from my room and joined the rest of the household , who seemed to be having quite the time. I walked into the kitchen where everyone seemed to be and spotted Cam and Mike making goo-goo eyes at each other. I walked over and tapped on her shoulder causing her to look my way but ducked down so she couldn’t see me. Giggling at her confused facial expression I stood up and stuck my tongue out at her. 

“Well aren’t you cute girly.” She said as she poked my exposed belly button.

“Thanks you’re quite the looker yourself.” I complemented back. 

“Wassup Jay.” Mike said as we dapped.

“Where’s thing two?” I asked referring to Chris.

“Now how come I always hear you talking bout me?” Chris said as he came from behind me and into my view.

“I just wanted to know where you were that’s all.” I said politely.

“Why?” He asked as he leaned down closer to my face. I inhaled his cologne and moved back a step. I wasn’t trying to get caught up in Chris but he makes it so hard not to.

“Just because.” I replied staring back into his eyes. I wanted to look away , but I couldn’t. It was like he had me on a leash , or under some magical spell. He was hypnotizing me.

“Well here I am.” He said deeply as his face was only inches away from mines. I stared at his lips and then back at his face which displayed a satisfied grin upon it.

“Found you.” I said moving away from him and going into the living room where I saw Deja and Mijo passing a blunt back and forth.

I sat next to Deja who looked at me and nodded her head. I did the same and looked at the blunt between her hands. I’ve always wondered what it was like to get high.

“What does it taste like?” I asked Deja who just smiled at me before answering my question.

“Like .... The Earth.” She said as Mijo started laughing.

“So like grass and dirt and shit?” I asked confused.

“No like plants , more like herbs.” Mijo said.

“You wanna hit?” Deja asked me while holding the object my way. I looked at it really thinking about the side affects it could possibly have on me. I wasn’t scared per-say but I was anxious.  I grabbed the blunt from her hand and placed it to my lips and exhaled it slowly. I figured it was just like smoking a cigarette so I guess I could get the hang of it.

“For someone who has never smoked before you seem to know what you’re doing.” I heard Maya say.

“I’ve seen it done before so I guess.” I said as Deja gave me the okay to continue.

I repeated the same steps over and over until the blunt was almost nothing. I felt my body become heavier but lighter at the same time if that was even possible. I looked at Deja who was looking at me and started laughing hard as hell. I didn’t know what was so funny but all I know is I couldn’t stop laughing for the life of me. I clenched my sides as my stomach started to cramp from laughing so hard. I tried to catch my breath but I couldn’t , all I could do was laugh. I felt weightless but once I tried to stand , I almost fell on my ass. Sitting on the floor I died of laughter once again.

“Yo Jay is high as a kite.” I heard Mijo say. 

“I know , shit is hilarious.” Deja said as I laid back on the floor and continued to laugh.

“CAMILLA!” I heard someone shout. It kinda hurt me ears and my body jerked up but once I saw nothing exciting I started laughing again.

“What?” I’m guessing Camilla answered.

“You’re sister is um ..”

“High?” I heard my sister say. I just laughed and clapped my hand.

“Deja did you get my sister high?” My sister asked.

“She asked to smoke , I didn’t make her.” Deja said.

Camilla came over to me and sat on my stomach and held my face in her hands and examined me. I laughed at her face when she saw my eyes and she hopped off of me and ran to the kitchen. Minutes later I heard Chris’ voice booming through the living room.

“What do you mean she’s high?” He asked as she walked over to where I was laying almost asleep.

“Look.” Cam said as she pointed to my almost lifeless body on the floor.

Chris leaned down and looked in my face then lifted my eyelids , revealing my red eyeballs. I picked me up and stood me on my feet. I focused on catching my balance. Once I did I saw Camilla’s phone sticking out of her back pocket of her jeans. I snatched it and attempted to run. 

“Jordan gimme my phone!” I heard her yell as she chased me around the house.

I kept laughing at how care free I felt running around the yard while the wind spun around me and Camilla ran angrily behind me. Looking back I saw that Chris and Ty were also behind me and I knew that if they caught me I was gonna be up Shit Creek.

Seeming as if that only boosted my energy if possible , I ran faster and faster, swiftly moving around the yard as if I was running from the cops. I heard Cam shouting at me from behind.

"Dammit Jordan! Bring your ass here!" She screamed with her and Chris right on my ass. I was beginning to get tired but for some reason my body wouldn't stop running. I suddenly came up short when I tripped over a basketball in the yard and fell 3ft away from the 12ft deep in ground pool.

Shaking my head and trying to get up , I was suddenly pushed back down by an angry Camilla. She was yelling in my face but I couldn't make put the words exactly. Reality didn't hit until I felt an excruciatingly painful sting to my cheek.

"NOW DO YOU HEAR ME JORDAN!?" She yelled almost going blue in the face. I instantly became angry. Fuck that I was vexed. Cam had never hit me. Ever.

"What the fuck Camilla?! Why'd you hit me?!" I yelled just as she had. I couldn't bring myself to hit her back because she was my sister. That is until I felt another sting to my other cheek.

Then I lost it.

- C H R I S

Jordan. Was. Whooping. That. Ass.

I mean don't get me wrong Cam's ass was getting some good hits in, but Jordan was knocking her tf out. It was like every hit Camilla managed to get , her sister would give her 3 hits to follow that one. And they were hard.

"Yo we gotta break them up before Jordan kills her sister." Trey said before looking at Mijo , Mike , Raye and myself.I looked at that nigga like he had 3 heads.

"Alright you first." Mike said pushing him up closer to the vicious brawl before us.

"Y'all niggas scary as fuck. Help us get them apart!" Treasure yelled making us all snap into reality.

I reached over and tried to grab Jordan but it was no use. She had her legs around Cam's neck while she was punching her in the head. Can just so happened to bite the living shit outta her causing her legs to free her neck. Using this time as an advantage, I pulled Jordan by her waist and stood her up with her feet a little from the ground. She yelled Spanish obscenities at her sister while Cam fought to get from behind Mike.

"Tu puta te odio a la mierda!" Camilla yelled angrily at her sister.

"Vete a la mierda puta te odio también!" Jordan spat back.

"You get on my fucking nerves!" Cam yelled back.

No lie , this little engagement they had going on was petty as fuck but I guess letting them get it out was best for them. I'm hungry though so they need to chop chop.

"I haven't even done shit to you Cam. I'm sorry about your precious little phone you're acting like shit cant be replaced!" Jordan said back.

"Not everything can be replaced Jordan. You've always thought when you fuck up , it was okay because DAD would come to the rescue. You always had dad's love and the shit he never gave me will NEVER be replaced." Cam said in a more somber tone.

So this was about their parents?

"You think I had it easy when he left us? It isn't my fault that mom was so wrapped up in perfect little Camilla and dad came to my rescue. You always act like everything is my fault. Its not-" she was cut off by her sister.

"IT IS YOUR FAULT! ITS YOUR FAULT WE CANT SEE DAD ANYMORE! ITS YOUR FAULT WE KEEP MOVING! ITS YOUR FAULT DAD NEVER LOVED ME! ITS YOUR FAULT MOM AND DAD GOT DIVORCED BECAUSE SHE DIDN'T EVEN WANT ANOTHER KID!" Camilla yelled at the top of her lungs making the argument come to a complete halt.

Tears were running down Cam's face as she stood there holding on to her sides. Mike came and hugged her as she held onto him for dear life. I looked at Jordan and to my shock, she hasn't shed one tear.

."Fuck you Camilla. On moms." She said with hurt lacing every word she spoke. She then turned around to walk back into the house but stopped and ripped something from her neck.

"Here. I don't need it anymore." She said throwing what looked like a necklace at her sisters feet.

The necklace read 'Faith' in gold , cursive writing.

She then turned and walked into the house and closed the door. Everyone stood in the back yard confused as hell. Camilla held on to the necklace her sister had angrily snatched off and cried even harder.

"I lost sister Mikey" she said wailing loudly into his chest. He whispered in her ear and they sat down on the grass as he held her while she cried.

Raye and Dej had gone into the house along with Treasure and Trey , probably going to find rooms. Mijo and I slowly walked back into the house still dazed about what had happened within the last hour. Shit was sad to be honest. Like they were fighting like dogs in the street or something. "Yo you should go check on Jordan" Mijo said before dapping me up. I walked upstairs slowly, searching for which room that would be hers. I stopped at a door with a pink-glittered 'J ' on it.

I knocked on the door softly and then turned the knob revealing Jordan sitting on the bed with her knees at her chest, looking at a picture. I walked over to her and sat next to her but leaving comfortable room. I stared at her as she stared at the family photo with watery , red and puffy eyes.

"She's right. It is my fault. I just hate that it's taken me this long to come to that realization." She said, her voice soft and hurt.

"No she wasn't Jay. She was just angry and had feelings bottled up and she just said that to hurt you." I said moving closer to her.

She looked at me and and put her hands over her face and began to sob loudly. I pulled her into my lap and held on to her waist as she buried her head into my chest. She cried for what seemed like hours. She began to hyperventilate as she clenched my soaking shirt between her fists. Fearing that she would pass out, I lifted her chin and made her look at me.

"Calm down Jordan." I said softly as I looked into her eyes and rubbing my thumb across her cheek. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. I wiped her face as she smiled faintly.

"Thank you Chris." She said once her breathing regulated.

"No problem. Didn't want you to die on me." I said making her giggle. We stared at each other for a while until she began to caress my cheek. Leaning in , I placed my lips against hers and felt my body heat rise rapidly.

She linked her arms around my neck and straddled me as I gripped her waist. She moaned at the contact my hands were giving her body. I began to grind my semi-hard area into her warm middle as I placed soft kisses on her neck. Just as I was about to remove her tank top , she stopped me placing her hands on top on mine.

"We can't do this, Chris. This is so wrong." She said breathing heavily.

"But it feels so right baby." I said putting my head into the side of her neck and bit the exposed skin.

She threw her head back and moaned once I sucked on what seemed to be her spot. She ran her fingers down to my shoulders and gripped them while I rolled my hips into hers. I leaned back and took off my shirt allowing her eyes to roam all over my body with hunger. I pushed my mouth against hers and bit down on her lip before sucking on it to soothe the bite.

"Chrisss" She moaned. I tried once again to take off her shirt and she stopped me again. This time she got completely off of me and went to the other side of the room.

I walked behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist. She was quiet for a moment until she turned to face me. The look on her face told exactly how she felt.

"What's wrong Jay?" I asked.

"You. You come up in here comforting me then try to fuck me. Was that all you wanted to do in the first place? Get a quick piece of ass?" She semi-yelled.

Okay , low key I was but I had no intentions of coming in here just to get some. My comforting her was real and the kiss just felt right. But I'm not gonna say that I don't wanna fuck her though.

"No. I came in here to check on you to see if you were okay. I didn't plan on kissing you Jordan." I said back.

"So you don't wanna fuck me?" She asked putting her hands on her hips. She too sexy. Especially since she mad.

"I didn't say that. I wanna fuck the shit outta you to be honest." I said boldly as her face turned a light shade of red from blushing.

Instead of saying something, she just sat back down on the bed and turned on the TV. Is she fucking serious? I'm up here with a hard dick that probably won't go away and she wanna watch cartoons and shit. I calmly sat next to her even though I was sorta mad but not really. I was about to leave until she spoke.

"You don't even know me like that so I don't understand why would you wanna fuck a stranger." She said looking up at me.

"Strangers fuck each other everyday, Jordan." I said irritated. I was ready to go relieve myself and she wasn't helping me at all.

"I'm not that kind of girl. I can't just be fucking strangers , Chris." She said in the same tone.

"Well maybe we should be more than strangers then." I said walking over to her.

"Well I might like that." She said lowly. I leaned in a placed a soft kiss on her lips before pulling back. She looked at me with nervousness before putting her head down.

"I'm still a virgin."