#so he had to pull some strings for the out of pocket pen

[ugartecoco]

anyway we can all thank bruno for this he orchestrated the whole thing he told me himself

[found-pham-ily]

I love supportive parents Fentons. We're they good parents? Not always but they are trying. More so now that they knew how they'd failed Danny. They did a 180 on their research going from Ghost are evil to ghost are just people. Though some ghost wish they still just acted violently rather then stalking them to ask so *so* many questions.

Danny is happy, his parents are trying and while the GIW are still around as a nuisance he doesn't see then as actually a threat. Everyone in Amity had started treating him better both in and out of Phantom form. He is thriving.

Enter Constantine, there on league business. That business is decommissioning the GIW. The acts had been repealed and the group was supposed to cease activity. But they kept those things from Amity park and everyone there. How the league found out about it was just superman overhearing the agents brag about how they still worked in Amity.

Constantine had a fine time with the civilians there until he mentioned working for the league. Suddenly everyone turns on him. They don't harm him but they ice him out, over charge anything he buys, and hurl insults. He was also pretty sure his string of bad luck was caused by them too not just the obvious things.

So the hellblazer has no choice but to ask the local heros. Phantom tell him to leave, that he had it all covered. Red huntress is luckily more forth coming. If by forth coming you meant telling the truth while insulting a person and group so bad it makes him want to retire. Seriously he knew teens could be vicious but this is special levels of vitriol.

Once he finds out the situation, he can feel a migraine coming on. Not only did the league not answer a call for help repeatedly, but the local heros were two teens who think the league was for the anti-ecto acts. Plus neither of them were *good* at hiding their identities. Phantom was a palate swap and used a pun on his own civilian name. Red huntress Aka Valerie was *proud* of being red huntress and saw no real reason to hide it anymore.

The town is shocked when the league member in town starts taking down the GIW. Even more shocked when he told everyone the acts were repealed. They don't warm up to him though. Well things are better priced again at least.

As he finishes up and prepared to leave, he is stopped by the town mad scientist. They're smiling at him but he just knows this was about to be bad. Which is only proven when the lady pulls out a note pad and pen and he is being given the third degree on how magic works.

Constantine tries to leave he really does. But the man Jack has him body blocked via side hug he can't escape from. They wouldn't take his non-answers as answers and he felt his day get *worse* when they ask him to teach them.

The Fentons want magic only so they can figure it out. Magic doesn't exist so what ever power the hellblazer has has to be ecto based! And they need answers! It could help their son master his own powers and they could finally join him in fights on equal footing. A family that fights evil together stays together. Danny would be so proud of them!

Constantine doesn't want to deal with possible future magic rogues so he hits his s.o.s beacon in his pocket as he goes for a cigarette. He'd get shit for it later but he could handle a Bat lecture not what ever this was.

[hoe4hotchner]

Drawer | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Gn!reader CW: Fluff. Haley is still alive in this one… but they're divorced and she's not mentioned, so don't worry about her. WC: 0.8k

This is part of #Teddy-ber hosted by @angellsell

           The kitchen was quiet, save for the soft clinking of plates as you set the table. The sun streamed through the window, casting a warm glow over the room, making everything feel cozy and safe. You glanced over at the small drawer beside the fridge, the one neither of you opened often, yet always ended up filling with random things. You smiled, shaking your head. The infamous junk drawer - every home had one, but yours and Aaron's had its own kind of charm.

           It all started off simple, as these things often do. A place for the odd rubber band, a spare battery, maybe a pen or two. But over time, it grew, much like your relationship with him, becoming a repository for memories, a snapshot of your life together in the most ordinary and yet extraordinary way.

           You wandered over to the drawer, giving in to the curiosity, and pulled it open. The first thing that caught your eye was a tiny, half-used notepad. You chuckled, remembering how Aaron had tried to create a system and used it to make a grocery list - once. His tidy handwriting took up the first half of the page: Apples, cereal, milk, eggs. The essentials. Then came your scribbles, messier but full of character: Chocolate, wine, ice cream. It was a small, unspoken dance between the two of you, his practicality meeting your indulgence. He’d teased you about your sweet tooth but always made sure to grab a bar of your favorite chocolate when he went to the store.

           Underneath the notepad was an old, crinkled paperclip. Nothing special at first glance, but you knew better. This particular clip had been straightened and twisted into some sort of abstract shape during one of Aaron’s late-night phone calls with the director. He had a habit of fiddling with things when he was deep in thought or conversation, his mind constantly running through strategies, cases, and plans. The paperclip had against all odds survived that night and ended up in the drawer, tossed in with the rest of the forgotten oddities.

           There was a small collection of mismatched pens, each one with a different origin story. One from the BAU, with the FBI logo fading from years of use. Another, much nicer, one with Rossi’s name engraved on the side - a Christmas gift that had mysteriously disappeared from Aaron’s desk only to reappear here. You smiled, remembering how Rossi had teased Aaron about it, accusing him of misplacing gifts as though they were case files.

           Digging a little deeper, you found a crumpled-up ticket stub. It was from a movie you and Aaron had seen early on in your relationship, on one of your rare date nights - some action thriller that neither of you had really been paying attention to. You had been too busy watching him try to relax and stop worrying about work. His arm curled around your shoulders as the tension slowly left his body. It was one of those evenings where he let himself enjoy life, and in that dark theater, you’d felt closer to him than ever. The ticket had ended up in his pocket, and then, eventually, in the drawer.

           You picked up an old keychain, shaped like a miniature Swiss Army knife. It was a gag gift from Morgan after a particularly tough case where Aaron somehow had managed to improvise his way out of a tricky situation (or so you'd been told) with nothing but a pen and a piece of string. Morgan had joked about Aaron being the new MacGyver, and the keychain had become a running joke between the two - until it, too, found its way into the drawer, no longer needed but still a significant memory.

           Near the back, half-buried under a mess of receipts and old to-do lists, you found something that made your heart swell - a small, child-sized sock. You chuckled softly, knowing exactly whose it was. Jack had spent the night a few weeks ago, and somehow, one of his socks had gone missing. You’d found it in the laundry and tossed it in the drawer, intending to return it but never getting around to it. The little sock was a reminder of the nights when Jack slept over, filling the house with his laughter and questions. Aaron was always softer when Jack was around, his face lighting up in ways that were rare for the composed man you knew.

           As you looked over the contents of the drawer, you realized that it was more than just a place for random objects. It was a reflection of your life with Aaron - the little moments that made up your days together, the way your personalities meshed in the most unexpected ways. His neatness contrasted with your occasional chaos, his seriousness balanced by your lightheartedness. And in the middle of it all, this drawer - a quiet testament to the life you were building together, one forgotten pen and grocery list at a time.

           You smiled, closing the drawer with a soft click, knowing that someday it would fill up even more. But for now, it was a comforting, endearing mess - much like love itself.

[luveline]

what abouttttt

zombie!steve and reader (at any point tho i feel like this would make sense after the college got attacked) are like scavenging in a pharmacy and steve wanting to make his girl laugh puts on the stupidest prescription glasses that he found near the front desk but then? reader comes over and hes like have you always had that mole? and he refuses to take them off even tho theyre far sighted which makes the trek back to camp slightly unsafe but he cant stop staring at readers face because hes never seen it so clear

thank you for your request<3

“I really need some chocolate,” you lament, pulling at his hand as you drift together down the aisle toward the snack section. “If they don’t have any, I’m going to kill myself.” 

“You better kill me first.” Steve pulls you back. “Seriously. Have the decency.” 

“Find me some candy and I won’t have to.” 

“Find yourself some candy, loser. I need some painkillers. I’m sick of dealing with you.” 

You push at his arm. He resists the urge to yank you in for a kiss, letting your hand drop to part ways at the top of the aisle. He makes for the back of the store where the in-store pharmacy signs hangs half off of the wall, green glass shattered like coarse sugar grains underfoot. Steve cringes, clearing a path to the desk with the side of his shoe. 

“You okay?” you call from a few feet away, unseen but close enough to be heard clearly. 

“Fine! Signs of candy?” 

“No,” you say dejectedly. He nearly misses it. 

Steve’ll find you some chocolate if it’s the last thing he does, but first, he needs painkillers. His knee aches like he’s been beaten, a funny burning string of pain lining the underside of his leg every other step. Ideally he’d like some codeine, but more realistically he wants advil. He doesn’t know where to start, never does, but if you come over he’ll pretend he understands what things go where. 

He’s lucky. He bends down and finds a bottle of motrin on the floor, looking up to find a shelf teeming with it. “Yes,” he says, ecstatic. Things rarely ever go so obviously his way. “Fucking yes.” 

He shoves as many bottles of tylenol in his various pockets as he can. Then he looks around for anything interesting. He’s sure there’s a ton of things you could benefit from. He’s been wondering about epi-pens and emergency precautions, because god forbid something happen to you he couldn’t correct. Love makes him worry. You’re worrisome, you’re so sad lately, he knows you’re a few days from another burnout. He can’t handle it —he’ll take care of you, but seeing you down for the count hurts every single time. 

He leans heavily on the counter and lets himself think. Absent-minded, he reaches out to spin the intact rungs of a glasses stand, prescription lenses shining against the glare of the sun seeping in from the store’s caved metal roof. “Plus two,” he says to himself, “plus three, what?” He grabs an obscene pair and shoves it up his nose, blinking in surprise at the way his vision blurs. 

He turns the display to the mirrored back and grins. 

“Hey, loser? You okay?” he calls. 

You don’t answer. 

“Babe?” he says sharply. 

“Oh, you’re talking to me?” 

“That’s not funny.” 

You appear at the end of the aisle with an arm full of chips, less blurry the closer you get. “Sorry. Don’t call me loser then. Oh, gosh, what are you wearing?” 

“Gosh,” he mimics with a laugh. “I’ve no idea.” 

His poor attempt at a southern accent makes you laugh too. “Nice glasses, Harrington. I didn’t know you needed them.” Steve crossed his arms in front of him. You drop the chips beside his sleeve and station yourself as he had, a mirror, your smile charmed as you push the glasses up his nose. “You look ridiculous. Here,” —you take a nicer pair from the rack and open the legs— “swap them.” 

He would, but he’s looking at you, and he’s thinking, What?

You move your head away from him instinctively, but ultimately let him hold your face, his thumb on the hill of your chin, fingers curled over your cheek. He can see the little silver scars of a cruel hand around your mouth, and the cut on your cheek from a surprising wooden beam, but what he’s never noticed is the pigmentation under your mouth. The little wrinkles by your eyes. Hell, he’s never realised your eyelashes looked quite like that until now. 

“Hey–” he starts, though you’re already ducking your chin. “Wait–”

“Stop, you’re staring.” 

“Yeah, I’m staring. You always had that freckle?” 

“Long as I can remember.” 

“Wait,” he pleads, trying to grab your chin as you step away. 

“I need chocolate, Steve, I’m not kidding. You can do whatever you want to me if you help me find some.” 

“You will come to love that decision very soon.” 

You giggle like crazy. Steve swaps the less attractive glasses for the ones you’ve recommended and follows you down the aisle to help you look for your sugar fix. He nearly trips over a split can of condensed milk, and you might act like you don’t like him, but you catch him by the arm and allow him to hold on. 

He isn’t great at helping you look, but he finds a couple of bars of cooking chocolate in the baking essentials aisle and decides it’s good enough to head home with. You eat lines of it as you walk, your fingers pressed between Steve’s, a little dab of chocolate he wouldn’t have noticed otherwise in the corner of your lips. 

“You sure you don’t want some?” you ask between bites. 

He’s gonna watch you eat the whole thing. “No thanks. I’m saving room for Robin’s artichoke heart and refried bean combo.” 

“Would you take those off?” Your cheek twitches as you smile. Your eyes glow with affection. “You can barely walk.” 

“You don’t like them?” 

“They really, really suit you, actually. I love them,” you say, to his secret delight. 

“So what’s the problem?” 

He trips over his own feet and has to grab your arm to stop from falling. “That’s the problem,” you say, in love enough to smile even when the world has gone to shit for you a thousand times. Your eyes follow down his nose to his lips. 

Steve grins and ducks forward for a kiss. “Oh, sorry,” he says when the glasses bump your nose. 

You laugh and touch under his chin to help him out. You taste like chocolate still as he kisses against the seam of your lips, a quick but blissfully deep kiss, a handful of seconds where Steve feels like you’re one in the same before he pulls away, just enough to see both of your eyes. 

“What’re you looking at?” you ask. 

“You have chocolate on your nose,” he lies. “Want me to get it?” 

“Yes,” you say bashfully. 

He kisses the tip of your nose, then the corner of your lip. 

[ghostmaldo]

ꨄStardew Valley Headcannons: Artist farmer leaves a sketch for their love interest to find ꨄ

This took me so long to write, I’ll cry if this flops, but its fine ;-;

I might draw out the poses honestly… gives me something to do hehe Xp

No warnings, fluff, comfort, GN!Reader

Ask box: Open 💙

~Maldo

ᡣ𐭩 Penny ᡣ𐭩: Ooooh this sweet child, I just want to take her away from all of her troubles-

~It’s been a long day for Penny. She’s been spending most of the day tutoring Vincent and Jas, taking them out into the wilderness and to the library. Standing outside for a moment while the rain pelted the library rooftops. Of course, eagerly chatting with farmer while they ran around town doing their usual chores.

~ Between all that of course she’d have a altercation with her mother. Nothing she can’t handle but that dosen’t mean it dosen’t hurt any less. So, she practically dragged her feet back to her camper (RV? Whatever that thing is called).

~She reaches out for the handle of the door, then she stops. What this…?Her eyes blowing open slightly as she sees a neat envelope sticking out of the crack in the door. She see’s her name written in a sparkly gel pen as she retrieves from the door. Her heart starts to beat a bit harder in chest…

~She carefully opens the envelope. The scent of a sweet smelling perfume pulls at her heart strings further. Someone must have put a lot of thought into this little gift…for her…?

~Unfolding the paper from inside, she takes in a sharp breath. It’s a portrait drawing, of her sitting in fields. It’s gorgeous… It looks exactly like her… Penny marvels at each pencil stroke. Even the little smudges at the ends of the paper catch her eye. She almost feels like crying. And a single tear does fall when she sees the signature at the bottom.

From: (Farmer)

~The farmer, as if one Que, appears behind her. “Oh you found it! I was worried it might-“

~She can’t hold herself back from throwing her arms around the farmer and hugging them tight. The farmer returning the embrace happily. Penny didn’t know how the farmer knew, but she needed to see this after the kind of day shes had.

~She frames the drawing and keeps it in a special place her mother can’t find. Often looking at it when she needs a pick me up and instantly she feels a little better about life.

ᡣ𐭩Shane ᡣ𐭩 Disclaimer: Due to my own personal experiences/triggers I’ve been warned by my friends I shouldn’t play his route and I’ve only really picked up things here and there so it may not be perfect, but I still want to include him as he is still very deserving of affection. That being said, this is where farmer and Shane have a few hearts between each other and he dosen’t hate them entirely ^^

~Another late night walking back alone to his Aunt’s house from the saloon. His head is swimming with all the beer in his veins, swaying from side to side on his feet as he walks. Eventually arriving to his doorstep, through his blurry visions. He makes out his name on the front of his door. “Shaaane… thats my name.”

~His a bit confused at first. Reaching out to touch the letters of his name written in the sparkling gel ink. That’s when realized his name is written on an envelope of some kind. The confusion on his face only deepens. What kind of joke was this? He certainly wasn’t laughing.

~He grumbled as he fumbled with opening the letter. Revealing the picture of himself with his chicken Charlie… He blinks… and blinks again… He stares at the picture for a long time. His drunken mind unable to process what his looking at. At the bottom of the page he reads:

“From (Farmer)”

~He feels a tightness form in his chest. He almost wants to be angry the farmer left this for him to find… Yet… he thumbs over the thin strides of ink forming his face.

~After several minutes of just standing there holding the drawing, he carefully tucks the drawing into his coat pocket. Wondering inside and briefly forgetting about it as he throws himself into bed to sleep off the hangover. The farmer somehow finding themselves into his dreams.

~He won’t bring up the drawing for a few days I think. Not exactly knowing what to say. It isn’t until he sees the farmer one random afternoon buying supplies from Marnie that he catches them before they leave.

“Uhh, thanks for this.” He takes the folded piece of paper out from his pocket, unable to look the farmer in their eyes. “It’s nice…”

ᡣ𐭩Maru ᡣ𐭩

She’s having her afternoon sit near the saloon. Enjoying the warm air and peaceful chirping of the birds near by. Penny usually does by to sit with her sometimes, but she’s pleasantly surprised to find the farmer waving at them. A brand new battery pack in their hand, instantly she perks up, wondering if perhaps…

~ It is! She’s overjoyed to receive another battery pack from the farmer. Maru already knows the exactly project she’ll use it for. She waves the farmer good bye as they have other things to do.

~Once they’ve gone. Something feels different… about this battery pack. Sitting back down and inspecting the object more closely. She noticed theres something attached to the battery. An envelope with her name written on it. “Hmmm?”

~Cursorily, she thumbed the letter open. Using the upmost of care to unravel the drawing inside. Her eyes went wide with surprise. A drawing of her at the clinic writing something on a clipboard. It was so… life like. Just by looking it over, Maru could tell it was done with care. She smiled fondly. A loud, she read: “From, (Farmer)

~Quickly, she hurried after the farmer, hoping they hadn’t gotten to far. Seeing them about to head back to their farm, she blitzed it. Hugging them from behind as she reached them. “Thank you farmer! This is the best!”

~Another one to frame it and place it somewhere special. Considers it one of her most prized possessions.

ᡣ𐭩Sebastian ᡣ𐭩

~Lizard blinking at 10am in the morning. Sebastian reaches to turn the alarm off on his phone. He groans and grumbles for a few minutes before deciding to sit up and move over to his computer. He placed his fingers on his keyboard, the abruptly stopped when he felt a strange sensation on the pads of his fingers.

~Tilting his head, he spotted… an envelope His name written in a neat sparkly cursive. Ugh… he hoped this wasn’t a joke from his mother. He carelessly ripped the envelope open, though he was careful with the contents inside. Unfolding the paper, his eyes landed on a drawing of him… one of him working on his motorcycle. One of the corners of the page reading: From (Farmer)

~Sebastian.exe has stopped working-

~He takes a slow deep breath in, heart beating wildly inside his chest. He found the gesture to be so… sweet. Sebastian admires the piece for a long while before he can focus on anything. He places it somewhere safe but where he can still admire it within his working space. It’s all he can think about for the entire days (And probably for several days after)

~In the evening time, he purposely places himself near the mines so he can show his appreciation to the farmer. He waves them over as soon as he sees them. He becomes a little shy rubbing the back of his neck nervously, but he does want to say something. “Hey, I found the drawing on my desk… Thank you… That was very kind of you…” Will hesitate to go in for a hug but if farmer meets them halfway he will gladly embrace them.

ᡣ𐭩Leahᡣ𐭩 Disclaimer#2: I haven’t tried to romance Leah yet and I know the very baseline of her personality so I apologize (again) if this one isn’t perfect but also still wanted to include her.

~Leah’s been inside her small home for most of the afternoon working on her latest project. Deciding to take a stroll through town to take a small break and stretch her limbs out. She opens her door and catches the glimpse of something fluttering downward and landing on her door mat. An envelope? What could this be?

~ Inspecting the object, she traces her finger over her name. Some of the glitter from the Gel pen rubbing off. She can’t hide the smile that creeps onto her face. She’s a bit giddy over receiving something so mysterious and thoughtful!

~She opens the letter and finds the portrait of herself inside. She’s smiling happily with her house in the background. Lead is amazed by the penmanship. Her eyes glaze over every detail, her heart swelling with emotion. At the bottom of the page is a signature: From (Farmer). She lets out a happy squeal and lightly presses the drawing to her chest.

~Quickly, she runs inside to find a frame for the piece. Placing it on a special place on her wall where she can easily admire it. Then she takes off into town as originally planned. Now with a new motive in mind.

~She’s happy to find the farmer running around town. Lead quickly catches them and pulls them into a warm hug. “Farmer! I didn’t know you could draw! I love the gift you left for me! We should have drawing sessions together!” She’s just so happy and excited to have someone to relate too and the gesture was so sweet to her.

ᡣ𐭩Sam(son) ᡣ𐭩

~Okay, okay, so his already well into his morning routine before he notices anything. He comes back into his room to retrieve his skateboard when he then notices something tapped to it. An envelope with his name written on it. He eyes cursorily as he picks it up. Honestly having no idea what the letter could possibly be about.

~Opening it up, he find the drawing of him on his skateboard. A really well done drawing of him on his skateboard. “Wow.” He grips both ends of the paper and takes a moment to admire it. Eventually finding the signature at the bottom corner of the page. From: (Farmer).

~He breaks out into a wide smile. He can feel the warmth of his own face and his heart swoons. He places the drawing on his dresser before taking off without his skateboard. He briefly pauses outside, having mean to have grabbed it. But his brain is spinning so much he just waves off the skateboard and takes off on foot to see if the farmer might be wondering around somewhere.

~And his right. He catches them coming out of the community center. He approaches them with a smile thats returned to him. “So, when did you have time to sneak into my room hm?” He teases lightly, and they share a laugh together. “Hey but really, that was really nice of you. You’re really talented!”

~Another one to become shy when he goes in for a hug but once he feels the farmer wrap their arms around him, his content.

~He’ll stick around a moment to catch up with farmer, inviting them to hangout with him and his friends sometime at the saloon. He gives them one last hug before letting them get back to their work. The whole walk home his smiling like his on top of the world.

~ Tapes up the drawing somewhere in his room, his mom asks him about one time and he blushed the whole time as he explained the farmer gave it to him. Mom finds it sweet and teases her son about it.

ᡣ𐭩 Haleyᡣ𐭩

~ Haley opens the door to her shared home and finds the farmer standing there, mud and all, trying to place the envelope of the frame of her door. They stare at each other for a moment before he nose scrunches up as she notices the mud caked around their boots. “What are you doing?” She asks a bit dryly before she notices her name inscribed on the letter.

~”Oh! Is that for me?” She plucks the letter from the farmers hand before they have anytime to explain themselves. They stand there awkwardly as she doesn’t hesitate to rip the letter open. Revealing the drawing of her with her camera. Her face turns into one of surprise, a little oh leave her lips. it’s a bit hard to tell at first if she likes the drawing…

~Then she smiles gleefully. Spinning around with the drawing still in her hands and hugging it to her chest (not so gently as Leah but the drawings fine ^^). She goes to hug the farmer but stops when they realize they’re still covered in mud. So, instead, she gently lays her hand on their shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.

~”You made me look so pretty! Thank you! If you maybe… clean up a little maybe you can join Emily and I for dinner?” The farmer happily agrees. At dinner time is when Haley hugs them properly now that their clean. Even going as far as to compliment the shampoo they used. “So much better now that all the mud is gone!” (It’s a compliment, I promise)

~At dinner time, the farmer can see Haley’s placed the drawing in a frame and has it in her living room where everyone can gaze upon her beauty capture by the farmer.

ᡣ𐭩 Harveyᡣ𐭩

~”Alright (Farmer), just take this medication as directed and make sure to stay hydrated okay? And try to be careful in those mines!” Harvey’s gives the farmer a friendly smile as they are discharged from their clinic. Linus having brought them him when he found them exhausted in mines some time during the day. He was glad to see they were alright and hoped they found some time to get some rest.

~As his going to finalize his paperwork and pass it on to Maru, he sees an envelope on top of his other paperwork… when did that get there? He read his name on the letter, lightly pulling it from his clip board. He rest up against the counter, pulling the drawing from inside. A drawing of him taking a stroll through the patchy area in town. It’s so lovely… it takes him a moment to realize it is him. “From… (Farmer)”

~His so touched by the kind gesture he just stand there for a long time. Maru has to come find him to notify him he has Marnie waiting for him and he quickly has to tuck away the piece of paper in his coat. Clearing his throat and desperately trying to compose himself. “Sir your face is a little red are you okay?”

Stutters out a: “O-Oh yes! I-I’m fine just a little warm is all.”

~His a little distracted throughout the day and he can’t seem to stifle the rapid beating of his heart. His already thinking of something he can give to the farmer as appreciation… but he can’t seem to find anything he deems would speak his gratitude… Oh well maybe…!

~After locking up the clinic for the day, he catches the farmer out of the corner of his eye. He hollers for them and smiles brightly as they approach him. He lightly scolds them for not being in bed and resting, but quickly forgives them when they show him the bottle of water tucked away in their overalls (Or however farmer may carry this item ^^)

~”Oh and thank you for the uh… letter you left me. That was nice of you…” Is a blushing red mess and his nervously fiddling with his hands. “Um don’t worry about the bill this time. I’ll take care of it… just this one.” His startled when the farmer hugs him out of nowhere. The scent of the earth coming of their clothes makes his mind go a little blank., though deep down he enjoys the interaction.

~Has the drawing carefully tapped onto his clipboard so he always had it with him.

ᡣ𐭩Emilyᡣ𐭩

~Emily’s happily bursts through the doors of the saloon for her shift. There dosen’t seem to be too many patrons yet as she walked over to the other side of the counter. Gus appeares suddenly and catches her attention. “Hey! Secret admirer left this for you.” He claims with a wink as he slides over an envelope to her.

~”Oh! A secret admirer?” She looks at her name on the letter fondly. Closing her eyes as she holds it up above her face, almost if she were trying to conjure a face of who would have left this for her. The anticipation becomes too much as none of the faces she makes seem’s right. She impatiently opens the letter and finds the drawing of her dancing elegantly inside.

~She gasps and her eyes double in size…. Then promptly screams in absolute delight, jumping up and down on her feet. Gus shaking his head and smiling in the back ground while he prepares for the salon. “Make sure to read the bottom left corner.” When Emily hears this, she seizes her jumping and looks back at the drawing. From: (Farmer)

~ It’s at that exact moment farmer walks through the front doors. Emily sequels happily upon seeing them. Immediately running to practically jump into their arms. “(Farmer)! This is so sweet, I love it so much! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She gives you a tender kiss on the cheek that has farmer melting. Me too farmer, me too.

~Invites them to have a drink at the bar while she works. Every so often coming over to talk with them. Anyone can tell she has an extra pep in her step and her eyes are dazzling every chance she speaks with the farmer.

~ Frames the drawing and places it in a special spot in her room. Frequently picks it up and talks to it as if it the farmer themselves.

ᡣ𐭩Elliotᡣ𐭩

~Elliot is peacefully taking his afternoon walk, his mind a bit busy with thinking about his writings. On his way back, he crosses paths with the farmer. Seemingly in a mad dash to get where they were going, though they do wave at each other and smile before they disappear from his sight.

~Upon returning home, he instantly spots the envelope on his door. “My, my, what is this?” He says to himself, gingerly picking up the letter and delicately prying it open. Inside, is a beautiful drawing of him at his piano. A hushed gasp leaves his lips. He covers his mouth with his finger tips as his in pleasant shock. His eyes travel all over the drawing until he finds the signature at the bottom. From: (Farmer)

~He shakes his with a smile on his face. “Oh, that farmer.” He speaks lovingly. He takes the drawing inside where he sets it on his piano like a sheet of music. Theres something brand new brewing in his mind. He sits himself before the piano, fingers tapping away at the keys experimentally. Until theres a new song dancing on them. It’s not long before his scribbling notes on blanks sheet music.

~Before the sun goes down, Elliot decides to take one final stroll through town. In hopes to find the farmer still running their many errands. Lucky for him, he finds them doing just that. Snagging them as gently as he by the arm, he playfully swings them around. “There you are (Farmer)! If I may have a few moments of your time.”

~Sits them down on the nearest bench and shows them the song he wrote for them. (Yay swooning yet?) Together they sit and chat long after the suns gone down. Invites them over the following day so he can preform said song for them. “For your art of me. I was touched by it (farmer), allow me to show you my appreciation.

~The drawing sits on one side of his piano much like sheet music

ᡣ𐭩Abigail ᡣ𐭩

~Abigail is wondering the valley late into the evening. Hitting all of her usual spots and now headed for the graveyard. It’s a pretty normal evening when she first arrives. Then theres something laying on the ground that catches her eye. An envelope with her name on it, sitting in the middle of a gravestone. “Ooooh, spooky!”

~She reached for the envelope and looks over the writing. She turns it over a few times to see if there’s anything else mysterious about the object. When she dosen’t find anything more, Abigail opens the letter. Finding a drawing of her playing her instrument in a majestic looking manner. “From: (Farmer)”

~She holds the drawing up to the light to admire the details closer. She’s so touched by the gesture. She has half the mind to run over to the farmers house right now. But decided to simply find them in the morning. By the time she gets there, they’ll be long asleep.

~Best believe as soon as she wakes up for the day shes at the farmers door knocking. When they open the door, she dosen’t waste a second in throwing her arms around the farmers neck in an embrace. “Thank you so much for the drawing! It’s beautiful! I had to come over and say thank you!”

~She’ll stay awhile and chat with the farmer before heading home. But not before she invites them over to possibly have a game night or hangout at the salon.

~Frames the picture and has it in her room where she sees it at least once each day.

ᡣ𐭩Alexᡣ𐭩

~His outside throwing the football to himself before deciding to come inside. His grandparents are out and about at the moment, so he decides to sit at the kitchen table. Once his settled, he noticed something on the table. White envelope sitting undisturbed with his name on the front.

~Thinking its a note from his grandmother, he opens it without a second thought. His face drops when he sees the drawing of him inside. Football in hand. He gawks for a moment, totally caught off guard by the illustration. At the bottom he finds the infamous signature: From: (Farmer)

~He smirks at the discovery. Leaning his head into his palm while still holding the paper with admiration in his eyes. His ears momentarily perk up as he hears a familiar voice outside. His granny, and behold, the farmer themselves!

~Alex quickly gets up from his chair and quickly makes his way outside. Nearly running into his grandmother, she walks inside with a happy, knowing smile on her face. Chasing after the farmer, he catches them just in time. “Running away when you’ve left me such a charming gift?” His smirking but his mostly playing around.

~ Chats with the farmer and manages to slip in they should come over for dinner with him and his grandparents. To which farmer gladly agrees.

~While Alex was away flirting with the Farmer, his grandmother finds the image on the table and decides to place it on the fridge. Alex dosen’t have the heart to move and honestly its the perfect place for it.

[sanjoongie]

𝑩𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑩𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑮𝒐𝒐𝒅

👑Pairing: Wealthy born! Prince! Seonghwa x Inherited! Princess! Reader (f)

👑Au: Modern interpretation of Sweet Sorrow of Evil, royal au, modern royal au

👑Trope: established relationship (married), reincarnated, soulmate

👑Genre: smut, romance

👑Word Count: 2,294

👑Rating: 18+, MDNI

👑Warnings: dom!seonghwa, sub!reader, oral (m), aftercare

👑Summary: a peak into the life of evil queen! reader and guard! hwa reincarnate. their date night sure isn't private but what they do in private after said date is another story entirely...

👑A/N: this is for my small's birthday @smallfrye (modern! sweet sorrow guard hwa aka prince hwa au) this has been bubbling in our brains for MONTHS and i'm happy to put the first scene i tortured myself with into words so that you can read it. Thank you for being my braincell in this journey of our friendship. I am truly thankful for your presence in my life and i hope this fic shows it 😆

“Prince Seonghwa!”

Camera’s flash and click; all the cacophony that is due with a public appearance of a royal couple nowadays. You let go of Seonghwa’s hand, but not without some resistance from your husband. The tips of his fingers curl, indicating he doesn’t want to let go but knows what you’re doing. He sends you a small smile but then focuses on his public job.

He smiles and tilts his head, putting the hand that had been holding yours in his pants pocket in a pose. It was his job to look good and thus make the royal family look good. And he always did a good job in that regard.

“Prince Seonghwa! How’s date night?” One reporter shouted. 

Seonghwa laughed gently. “I was enjoying time with my wife, of course.”

The crowd of reporters laugh together as Seonghwa pokes at the fact that they in fact interrupted said time with questions and photos. 

Seonghwa informs a fashion magazine what his fit was dutifully. He brushes a strand of his bangs out of his eyes with a pinky finger and blinks and the camera’s click in quick succession. 

“Does the Princess like the long hair?” Another reporter shouts.

Seonghwa tilts his head flirtatiously. “Why do you think I’ve left it this long for so long?”

“What’s on the itinerary after this?”

Seonghwa shakes his head. “Oh, just some boring husband duties, nothing impressive. I’m afraid my social battery is much depleted now.”

Then your husband sends the longest, most goosebumps-inducing look that makes you have to bank your face but you still swallow in futile. Your court-trained husband knows exactly how to affect you in public. And he takes great delight in testing your public mask.

You swoop in to ‘save’ your husband. “That’s all for tonight folks,” You insist demurely. 

The yells continue as you take up Seonghwa’s hand and pull him to the car that’s waiting for you outside of the high-end restaurant. You both settle into the plush leather and take a sigh of relief being out of the eye of the public. 

Seonghwa’s thumb passes over the back of your hand, as if he’s winding the string of a fishing pole and you’re at the end of the string. “Princess,” he says your title softly but you’re not falling for that trick.

“Seonghwa,” You open your mouth to scold him but he places a chaste kiss at the corner of your mouth to halt you. 

“I know. I won’t start anything in the car. But just so you know…” Seonghwa lets the words hang in the air to tempt you.

You stubbornly look out the tinted windows. “Yes, Dear.”

Seonghwa chuckles lightly. “Your tone might get you in trouble later, dear.”

You turn, head in hand, lifting a perfectly penned-in eyebrow. “Should I have not saved you from the crowd of reporters, husband?”

A polite, playful smile pulls the corner of Seonghwa’s lips. “We both know what really happened.”

You quickly glance towards the front of the car to make sure the window that separates driver from client is up and then lean over towards Seonghwa. With your entire back to the driver, you whine. “Seonghwa, you promised!” 

Seonghwa reaches out and runs his hand over your hair. His eyes travel over your face, your body, simply drinking you in. “You look gorgeous tonight, wife of mine.”

You sigh in gratitude, a bit relieved. “Pretty enough to distract you from the not-so-private date, I hope.”

“You know when I’m with you, it’s like the rest of the world melts away,” Seonghwa admits.

You grip Seonghwa’s hand. “I know. It’s part of the reason you married me.”

Seonghwa’s soft look twists into a darker, more lust-filled one. “And the other half?”

This time you can’t help but laugh. “Seonghwa, please.”

“You’ll show me when we get back home?” Seonghwa still prompts hopefully.

“Of course,” You agree. 

That is why you knelt before your husband, whose legs were spread on your thousand thread count sheet on your bed. You subserviently removed his designer shoes and put them to the side. Next came off his socks. You then stood up on your knees, reaching for his belt. 

Seonghwa’s fingers quickly grip your wrist tightly. “Slower, dear. You promised adoration, not a quickie.”

“Yes, Prince,” You intone quietly. 

Seonghwa lets go of your wrist and allows you to proceed. You place both of your hands on Seonghwa’s knees. You squeeze his thighs, that tense in response back. You methodically squeeze up his leg until you can see that he is hard under his baggy slacks. Swallowing loudly, you dip your head to mouth at the imprint of his cock. Seonghwa makes a low noise in the back of his throat and you take that as a sign of approval. 

“Your Highness,” you say conservatively. “May I remove your royal shirt?”

Seonghwa’s pupils are blown but his eyes are lidded. “You may,” he allows.

There aren’t a lot of buttons to undo, for Seonghwa had already popped many for his date night look. His jacket is already dutifully hung up in the walk-in closet, so all you have to do is push it easily off his shoulders. 

Your breath catches in the back of your throat at how tantalizing your husband is at this moment. His palms are flat on the sheet, leaning his weight back to watch you work your magic. You can’t help but linger as your hands caress down his torso, following the lines of his muscles. 

“This body is wasted,” you murmur under your breath.

“Wasted on what?” Seonghwa chuckles.

“You should be sold to the highest bidder and then fucked every hour upon the hour,” your mouth says without a filter.

If you weren’t admiring Seonghwa’s body so much, you might have glimpsed the slight blush that clung to his cheeks. “Dear one,” he drawls. “Your mouth is getting you into trouble again.”

You drop to your knees again. You lick your lips as your hands reach for his belt buckle a second time. “Let me keep it busy then.”

Seonghwa does not stop you as you manage to free his cock from the confines of his pants and boxers. You sigh dreamily at his curved, long cock. As your husband is a dream in of itself, so is his cock. You suck happily on his cockhead, swirling your tongue around it. 

With a loud gasp, Seonghwa’s hand flies to your hair, needing a handhold immediately. His desperate cries only fuel your hunger for his cock, as you then bob up and down his length. You let your throat adjust to the length with each bob, and eventually you can manage to get him completely inside of your mouth and throat. 

The room echoes with the wet, choking noises but it seems as if Seonghwa is feeding off them. “That’s it, dear, gobble me down, you greedy girl.”

Nothing tickles Seonghwa more pink than watching you give him a sloppy blowjob. The sucking noises only add to the way your mouth circles around his length, eyes trained on him. You don't use your hands; you simply let your lip and tongue do the work. There's saliva all over your chin and cheeks and the bed sheets but you know that's the way Seonghwa likes it. Seonghwa likes knowing you'll debase yourself for him.

You reach underneath your skirt, and rub your clit through your thong. You know you're creating a wet spot on expensive silk but the need to indulge yourself burns in your lower stomach. You let out a small whimper as your finger pad brushes against your throbbing nub. 

Seonghwa’s eyes snap open. “Dear,” he croons softly, dangerously. “The only pleasure you should be getting should be from wrapping those pretty lips around my cock.”

You whine around his length but remove your hand from between your legs. He's right. He hates the spotlight but goes on these public dates to satisfy your need to be among your people. And so, you rewarded his time by being the one to admire him. 

In this moment, as the princess, he is the only one who truly matters, and that's all he wants. Because Seonghwa, above all of his needs, loves you.

Like a flip of a switch, you find yourself pressed against the foot of the bed. Your head is held in place against the mattress. Seonghwa is on his feet now, almost towering above you as you’re still on your knees. His tongue snakes out to lick his lips and your lower half tightens at the action. “Be a good Princess and swallow everything I give you.”

You drop your jaw in anticipation for Seonghwa to fuck your mouth. It’s still a sloppy job but it’s in no way rough like you expected. Seonghwa simply works in and out of your mouth of his own accord. Again, it’s very much about feeling like only he can do this to you; only he has the privilege to fuck the princess’s mouth. 

Your fists grab his slacks, one clutching to each thigh, to keep your wandering fingers away from pleasuring yourself. The only noises you can hear are the small, desperate gasps as Seonghwa chases his high and of course, the wet noise of his cock sliding in and out of your lips.

When Seonghwa reaches his climax, he tosses his head back, showing the line of his neck and jaws. You missed his nose scrunch because of this but his loud cry as he shoots down your throat more than makes up for it. You swallow everything, or at least attempt to, but when Seonghwa pulls out of your mouth, a tiny amount squirts on your cheek. 

Seonghwa clucks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “You get so dirty when we do this.” He absentmindedly captures his cum with a swipe of his finger and pushes it into your mouth. 

Dirty is an understatement. You know your makeup is streaked, dry saliva and cum all over you. You’re sure your hair is a mess and so is your underwear. You are definitely in need of some much needed aftercare. But first!

You shoot to your feet, slanting your lips across Seonghwa’s eagerly. “You did wonderfully, my love,” you gasp between kisses. 

Seonghwa laughs under his breath, feeling a tad bit shy after the complete show of dominance. “You sure it wasn’t too much?”

You shake your head with a small, happy smile. “Nope. It was perfect. Help me in the bathroom? I’ll get a washcloth for you too.”

You walk to the bathroom and Seonghwa can’t help but note how, even now, after he just fucked your throat full of his cum, that you still manage to walk as if you are in public and waving to a crowd of your people. You can take the princess out of the grace, but you can’t take the grace out of the princess.

The two of you clean up and then lounge in the bath together. You have your princess crown back on, figuratively of course. You’re checking all the social media posts of your date, official and tabloids, scanning all the comments, good or bad. 

“Wooyoung,” You say your best friend’s name in part astonishment and part scolding. 

You hold your phone up to show Seonghwa. One of the reporters had perfectly captured Seonghwa’s bedroom eyes as he had peered at you earlier. Wooyoung had left a comment on said photo that was bordering on appropriate. 

Ym_ooyng: i’ll be performing my boring best friend duties tomorrow 😉

“Do you have a date with Wooyoung that I’m not aware of,” Seonghwa intones, not being able to hold his tongue when it comes to your best friend of a prince. 

“No,” You muse. “But I bet he’s planning an impromptu drop in to get the tea. You know how he is, husband of mine.”

You run your nails along Seonghwa’s inner thigh propped up beside you and he shudders delicately. You try to remind him through actions that Wooyoung can say whatever he wants, but you’re still in the bathtub with him right now. 

Seonghwa hums in acknowledgement. He dips his hand under the water and lets droplets fall from his fingertips onto your arm. “Dear…?”

“Seonghwa?” You put your phone away and give your husband your undivided attention. 

“You think we could schedule some getaway time?” Seonghwa asks.

You cannot help but turn around in the tub to look at Seonghwa’s face. He won’t meet your gaze so you use a wet hand to push up his downturned chin. “Seonghwa, look at me.”

Seonghwa tentatively looks up, eyes bearing his soul to you, and then looks away. “Just a little bit of time. To get away from the cameras.”

Your heart wrenches. You know that he’s become a public figure simply for you. But you’d throw it all away if he asked it of you. “Of course. I’ll speak to Jongho, get him to figure out what would be a good time--”

“Tomorrow.”

“Before Wooyoung can drop in?”

A small, conspiratorial smile pulls at Seonghwa’s lips. “Maybe.”

“Okay,” You agree. You turn back around and settle into Seonghwa’s chest, tucking his arms around your collarbone.

Seonghwa squeezes his arms so that they’re wrapped around you. “Okay.”

You slowly fall asleep as Seonghwa rocks you gently, humming a mindless tune under his breath. You are in and out of consciousness as he drains the bath and bundles you up in a robe. The last thing you remember is a kiss on your forehead, and then your nose, and then your lips before Seonghwa mumbles, “Goodnight my fair princess. Sleep well.”

[mamabearcatfanfics]

Cairo Prison - InuKag

Sometimes, I write things just for myself, as a little treat. I might write my other favourite scenes here and there. Who knows, eventually I might have enough to string together a whole plot line. But lookie here @elkonigin and @coquinespike - have a little InuKag scene from The Mummy on me. If I ever find where I've put my laptop pen, there may even be some art to go with this.

Kagome swept across the courtyard, her anger making her simmer even hotter under the midday sun. She wasn’t sure who she was more annoyed at – the squat prison Warden for the obviously lecherous looks he was giving her, or Miroku, for lying about where he got the puzzle box. She shivered a little as they passed the gallows, not wanting to think too much about what usually took place here. When the Warden paused for a moment to speak to one of the guards, she rounded on Miroku, her voice a hissing whisper.

“I can’t believe you Miroku! You said that you found that box at a dig in Thebes! And now I find out you stole it from a drunk at the local Casbah! You told me a barefaced lie!”

Miroku looked a little chastened, but then fought back with a winning smile, hooking his arm into hers as they continued across the courtyard.

“That’s a bit harsh, Kagome dear”, he said, patting her hand affectionately. “We were playing cards, a gentleman’s game. I would have won it fair and square if he hadn’t got himself into an altercation. He left it unattended in his pocket. What was I going to do, leave it behind? He probably didn’t even know what it was.”

“You. Lied. To. Me.” Kagome hissed.

“What’s a little white lie between family members, ey?” He tried a winsome smile, which faltered quickly under Kagome’s withering gaze. “I mean, you’re not the only one I lie to old mum. But at least the lies I tell you are pretty ones.”

“That makes it worse! I’m your sister Miroku! Whatever happened to us against the world, together through thick and thin!”

Miroku looked taken aback, even slightly hurt.

“I’m deeply offended. Didn’t I come straight to you with the box? I could have just sold it, but I knew it was something special. And I knew you would be smart enough to recognise that. We both know you’re the one with the brains in this family Kagome dear.” Glancing nervously around, he tugged on her arm, trying to turn her back towards the way they’d just come. “And anyway, I don’t think this is the best place for a lady, so how about we just pop back to-”

Kagome glared at him furiously as he tried to make a run for the door, wrapping her hand around his bicep tightly so he couldn’t get away.

“Stop trying to get out of this Miroku. You can’t sweet talk your way out of this one. Oh, I am absolutely livid! Not only have we lost the most important part of the map, but we have to come here, to this place. You are going to stay here with me and see this through!”

She shuddered a little self-consciously. There were quite a few leering eyes directed towards her, and not all of them were owned by prisoners safely behind bars. Miroku patted her hand again, obviously trying to soothe her, and Kagome straightened her spine.

They’d been through plenty of scrapes together, her and Miroku. They only had each other since their parents died, social outcasts amongst the English elite due to their mother’s Egyptian heritage. She’d barely got Miroku back in one piece after the war, one of his hands shattered by a bullet directly through his palm. She knew it still hurt him, even though he never complained. He’d always been devil may care, even before he was conscripted, but since his return it was like he invited trouble. She was constantly worried about him. This was a chance to find the legendary Hamunaptra together, and there was no way she was going to back down, even if she was more than a little out of her comfort zone here.

Warden Mukotsu came back, his eyes running over her lasciviously, and Kagome lifted her chin in defiance, staring back at him with spirit. She pulled her elbow away from his grasping stubby fingers as he ushered both her and Miroku over to the rusted iron bars surrounding a holding pen. The locked metal door behind it probably led to somewhere unspeakable.

She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. Wasn’t this what she had always wanted? A chance to show that she was not only a scholar, but able to go toe to toe with all the pompous, overstuffed Egyptologists? A chance to put all her knowledge to good use? She could do this.  

Clearing her throat in an attempt to make her voice as unaffected as she needed it to be, she turned her attention away from the locked metal door to Warden Mukotsu.

“So, what is this man in prison for?” she asked, attempting an imperious tone. She hoped it wasn’t something horrible, like rape or murder.

The warden preened under her gaze, and she turned her eyes forward again, not wanting to encourage him one iota. He was giving her the creeps. Besides, there was some kind of ruckus going on behind the closed door, yelling, swearing, chains rattling. What on earth was going on back there? Miroku was looking more and more like he was going to bolt, and she pinched his arm viciously to keep him beside her, gratified when he yelped like a little girl.

The warden chuckled, his dark eyes squinting in the hot, midday sun.

“I don’t know what you’re expecting lady, but he’s not human.” He spat derisively on the ground, and Kagome grimaced, tucking the toes of her boots safely back under her long skirt. “He’s a dirty half djinn, with the ears of a jackal. His words cannot be trusted. But I did ask him.”

“And what did he say?” Kagome asked, unsure if she actually wanted the answer to that question. What on earth had Miroku gotten them into this time?

The warden leered at her, before leaving momentarily to handle a disturbance on the other side of the courtyard.

“He said, he was just looking for a good time.”

The metal door burst open with a clang. Four guards dragged a prisoner forwards, their arms and legs wrapped in chains. Despite the handicap, he seemed to be fighting them every step of the way.

His shirt and pants were ragged, his grey, hip length hair matted and oily, hanging in clumped tendrils around his face. Both her and Miroku took a step backwards at the absolute stench that surrounded him. One of the guards walloped him on the head with a truncheon, hard enough for them to hear a solid thump as it connected. Kagome winced in sympathy as it smacked one of his canine ears, blood trickling onto his scalp, and he snarled loudly, baring some very obvious fangs. Another guard beat him again, and the other two kicked him in the back of the knees, forcing him to kneel in front Miroku and Kagome. He grasped the bars in front of him as best he could with his shackled wrists, teeth still bared in anger, amber eyes full of rage.

“This is the person you took the box from?!” Kagome squeaked in surprise, shuffling backwards a tiny step. She’d never seen anyone like him before, and the scholar in her was already wanting to know more. Why did he have dogs ears and fangs? He had slitted pupils like a cat – could he see things human eyes couldn’t? Where had he come from? Did he speak English or Arabic? Or some other language she had no knowledge of?

“Shush, not so loud,” muttered Miroku from the corner of his mouth, turning his face away from the prisoner kneeling in front of them.

“Who are you?” the prisoner demanded, looking Miroku up and down, then turning his eyes almost immediately towards Kagome, as if he’d judged Miroku’s worth and found him lacking. “Who’s the wench?”

“Wench!?” Kagome sputtered, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. The sudden smirk on the prisoners face, and the accompanying glint in his inhuman amber eyes, made her want to slap him. She’d been feeling a little sorry for him after witnessing his treatment at the hands of the guards a moment before, but now she was seething.

“Ah, hello my good man,” smiled Miroku, pushing Kagome a little behind himself. “I’m just a humble local missionary, visiting the prison to save the souls of unfortunates such as yourself…” He faltered a little as he watched the prisoner ignore him, picking at his teeth with the very pointed, and probably very sharp, claw on his little finger. He dragged a reluctant Kagome forward. “And this here is my younger sister, Kagome.”

“How do you do?” said Kagome, attempting a cordial tone, then stiffening as the prisoner looked her up and down.

“Tch. Well, I guess she’s not a total loss.” He turned his head away.

“Excuse me!” said Kagome, tapping her foot at a rapid pace on the dirt, in an attempt to mitigate the burst of anger that was beginning to rise at this man’s attitude. “Excuse me, Mr…”

“Inuyasha. Just Inuyasha.”

Kagome nodded, and tried her best to smile winningly at him. “Inuyasha then.” She made the tone of her voice as warm as possible, speaking slowly and carefully, her expression coy. “You see, my brother and I found a puzzle box that we believe you might be able to help us with.”

“Bullshit.”

“I beg your pardon!?” she exclaimed. Both Miroku and Inuyasha winced at her loud and high pitched tone of indignation.

“I smell bullshit,” Inuyasha repeated gruffly. “We both know you didn’t come here to dirty your pretty little shoes in this hellhole to ask me about some box, lady. You and this stuffed shirt came here to ask me about Hamunaptra, am I right?”

Both Kagome and Miroku’s eyes widened in surprise. They both looked around nervously, hoping the guards hadn’t heard anything, and moved a little closer to the bars.

“How do you know the box has anything to do with Hamunaptra?” asked Kagome, barely able to keep the excitement out of her voice. Now they were getting somewhere!

“Because that’s where I found it.”

Miroku leaned forward, his voice a little suspicious.

“How can we believe anything someone like you would say?”

“Wait, do I know you?”

Miroku gave a nervous chuckle.

“Oh no, I don’t believe- “

Inuyasha’s nose twitched slightly, and then his eyes widened in recognition. He glowered at Miroku.

“You!”

Before Miroku could even think about taking a step backwards, Inuyasha’s fist shot forwards, catching Miroku on the chin. Even hampered as Inuyasha was by the chains, as soon as the blow connected, Miroku was laid out cold. One of the guards whacked his already bleeding ear again, hard, forcing his forehead to bounce off the metal bars in front of him.

“Hey, watch it, fucker!”

Kagome looked down at Miroku, laying prone at her feet, then delicately raised her skirt a little as she stepped over him to get closer to the bars, her eyes full of excitement.

“You were actually at Hamunaptra?” she asked, her voice full of wonder. Inuyasha stared at her in amazement.

“Don’t you care that I just decked your brother?”

She waved a placating hand at him.

“Oh, he’s had worse, I’m sure he’ll be fine in a moment. But Hamunaptra! You were actually there?!”

She watched as Inuyasha’s amazement changed into a lazy grin.

“Yeah wench, I was there.”

She was so excited that she hardly noticed what he called her.

“You were there? Oh my goodness, I can’t believe it!” Her eyes narrowed a little in suspicion, and she moved even closer. “Do you swear?”

The lazy grin grew wider, a pointed fang lowering over his cracked lower lip.

“Every damn day.”

Kagome scoffed.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

The grin was still there, then it dropped away from his face.

“I know what you meant. But I was there alright. Seti's place. The City of The Dead.”

Kagome could hardly contain her excitement.

“What did you see there?”

“A lot of sand.” He almost shuddered. “And a lot of death.”

But Kagome would not be put off now. Not when she was so close. She could see the warden coming back, and she just had to get this information. She leaned closer to him, taking off her hat to guard their conversation.

“Inuyasha,” she whispered, her tone determined. “Could you tell me how to get there?”

He looked at her, and blinked slowly, his expression nonplussed.

“The exact location,” she wheedled, eyes shining with excitement, “pretty please?”

“You really wanna know?” he asked.

“Yes!”

“You really, really wanna know?”

“Yes, yes, more than anything!” she said, almost bursting with nervous excitement.

He beckoned her closer, gesturing with one pointed finger.

“C’mere then.”

She was now almost nose to nose with him, ears straining, eyes wide, ready to commit anything he might say to memory so she could write it down as soon as a pen and paper were handy. If only she’d bought one of her notebooks with her! But before she knew it, one of Inuyasha’s hands shot out, not to punch her as he had Miroku, but grab her chin firmly. And then his chapped lips were planted firmly against hers.

Before she had a chance to register anything more than shocked astonishment at receiving her very first kiss in such a manner, the lips were dragged away.

“You wanna know so bad? Then get me the fuck outta here lady!”

She watched as all four guards rained blows down on his head, dragging him backwards. She heard the warden laughing maliciously behind her.

“Wait, wait, I’m not done talking to him yet! Where are they taking him?”

“To be hanged.”

“Why?” Kagome gasped, her shock at this sudden turn of events evident. She grimaced at the wide grin Warden Mukotsu gave her.

“Apparently, he had a very good time.”

Kagome hurried after Mukotsu, almost tripping over Miroku as she strove to keep with the warden.

They climbed a set of stairs to a balcony overlooking the whole courtyard, Mukotsu sitting down to watch the show, while Kagome hovered anxiously, fingers tapping nervously on the balcony railing. She watched as Inuyasha was dragged up the stairs to the gallows. Other prisoners hollered and jeered as the noose was roughly forced over his head, then cinched tightly around his throat. He made direct eye contact with her, his expression stoic. What could she do? Suddenly she had a brain wave, turning to address the warden.

“What if I offered you one hundred pounds to secure his release?”

The warden shrugged, noisily snacking on a plate of dates on a small table at his side. Juice and spittle ran down his chin as he answered.

“I would pay one hundred to see him hang,” he replied, his eyes fixed on the gallows below.

“Two hundred pounds, then,” she bargained, eyes darting back and forth between Inuyasha and the warden, who ignored her totally. He stood for a moment, bellowing down to the guards below.

“Proceed!”

“Three hundred pounds!” Kagome said desperately. She could tell Inuyasha could hear their conversation even over the dreadful noise of the screaming prisoners, his ears twitched in their direction. She looked back towards him and saw him nod at her, as if to say, keep it going. The yelling suddenly grew quiet as the hangman addressed Inuyasha.

“Any last requests, dog?” he sneered, spitting on the trapdoor near Inuyasha’s feet.

Inuyasha pretended to look thoughtful for a moment, then spat his reply.

“Yeah, I'd like ya to let me go.”

The Hangman grabbed the lever to the trapdoor with a leering grin.

“FIVE HUNDRED POUNDS!” yelled Kagome, sitting down on the seat next to the Warden, her eyes pleading, then recoiled as he set his greasy, lecherous hand high on her thigh, fingers grabbing hard enough to bruise.

“Anything additional to offer?”

Before she could think, Kagome slapped his hand in revulsion, then gasped as Warden Mukotsu angrily turned and gestured to the Hangman. The trapdoor dropped away with loud bang.

“Oh no!”

She watched, horrified as Inuyasha dropped through the hole, his body jerking as the rope pulled taut. She wanted to look away, but couldn’t. His legs kicked wildly, then stopped, and for a moment, she thought all was lost. The rope spun him lazily around to face her again, and she realised he was still alive.

“Ha! His neck did not break! Good! Now we watch him strangle to death,” jeered the Mukotsu, stuffing another date into his mouth.

Angry chanting began amongst the prisoners, and the guards shouldered their guns nervously. Kagome could see Miroku climbing the steps, staggering a little, but she didn’t have time to help him right now. Not when a man’s life and finding Hamunaptra was at stake. She leaned towards the Warden.

“He knows the location to Hamunaptra”, she whispered urgently.

Warden Mukotsu’s head jerked toward her, his expression incredulous.

“You lie.”

“I would never!”

She glanced back towards the gallows. At the end of the rope, Inuyasha was making horrible choking and gagging sounds, his face a grotesquely mottled shade of red. She had to hurry!

The Warden eyed her suspiciously, wiping date juice off the corner of his mouth with a dirty sleeve.

“Are you saying this filthy godless son of a dog knows where to find The City of The Dead? Truly?”

“Yes, and if you cut him down, we will give you ten percent,” she said quickly, hoping that this would work. Inuyasha didn’t look like he had much time left.

“Fifty percent.”

She hesitated a moment, glancing back to Inuyasha, and watched his eyes widen at her incredulously at her bargaining. She quickly turned her eyes back to the Warden.

“Twenty.”

“Forty.”

Kagome hesitated again, biting her lip. Inuyasha’s eyes were looking up at her, almost bulging out of his head, like he couldn’t believe her.

“Give .... give him .... give him,” he coughed.

Under pressure, Kagome shrieked, “Twenty-five percent, and not one single farthing more!”

The Warden leered at her, then yelled down to the hangman. The sunlight bounced off the scimitar in his hands as he swung, cutting the rope, sending Inuyasha plummeting to the ground. His bound hands scrabbled in the dirt as he fought to get himself onto his knees, coughing and wheezing, taking deep breaths. His bloodshot eyes looked up towards the balcony.

Miroku finally made it up the stairs, leaning against the railing with a groan.

“So, how’d we do old mum? Did we win?” he asked, looking with some distaste at the leering grin of the Warden, then down into the courtyard at Inuyasha, who was still on his knees.

Kagome smiled broadly, and waved down at Inuyasha, who glowered at her.

“Yes Miroku, I do believe this visit was a success,” she said, excitement bubbling up. They were going to Hamunaptra!

“Jolly good show,” replied Miroku, gently fingering the darkening bruise on his chin.  

[thewritersaddictions]

Drabbles- (TA) Eddie M.- Music Notes

Music has always been easy for Eddie to understand. It's been the only thing in his life that made sense. Sure, his uncle's love for him and how to drive a stick shift made sense. But nothing came as natural as just simply thinking about music.

He could see the music notes in his head, and within a moment, he'd have a song written out on some crumpled piece of paper. Hell, most of the time, the music was written on his hand in a dried-out pen, so half the notes weren't even readable.

But then that all changed.

He changed for the better when he met you; somehow, the two of you made sense to him. You fit so perfectly into his life. Years after high school, the bullies and the town mocking were finally drifting off.

Even now, years later, Eddie didn't care what others thought. You were the polar opposite of him, bright and pink. Wore heels and dresses. Your hand tangled into his as you walked into the bar where the band played later in the night.

"What do you want to drink, sweetheart?" Eddie asks over the current music playing and the conversation being had. Black leather rubs against your exposed shoulder. Even though the summer is raging outside, the man still wears his leather jacket and jean vest. Chains dangle down from his jeans pockets. As you walk around, he gives off a very particular look, like he is your protective bodyguard.

His hand spreads out against your back in a protective manner. He looks down at you, black curls framing his face perfectly. You lick your lips and think for a moment. You'd ask for something strong, but you know that Eddie will get you anything you want if you ask him. "I'll take something sweet," you say simply before pressing your head into his shoulder.

The plan stirring around Eddie's head has him lost in his mind. "Eds?" Your voice pulls him from his thoughts, "Huh, what's wrong, baby?" He asks with concern laced in his words. "I asked you what you wanted to drink while we wait." You repeat yourself; he nods and looks over at the bartender. "Just a jack and coke is fine." He says

"Are you okay?" you ask, staring up at Eddie. He hums, and you leave it there. Something is eating at Eddie, but he isn't going to tell you right now, so you pause and return your attention to your fancy little drink.

Gareth knocks on the wooden table with his knuckles, pulling you both from your thoughts. "We gotta get going, Eddie," Gareth says with a warm smile as he looks at you. You return the smile, and when Eddie slides out of the booth, he grabs your chin and kisses your lips. "A good luck charm," Eddie whispers against your lips before retreating to follow his friend backstage. You smile with a blush, warming your face as if you've been out on the beach.

Confidence seeps out of Eddie's body as he walks up the stage, bright lights blinding him as he looks out into the crowd. It's a larger crowd than average, and the hope that someone from a fancy record business is out there grows in his chest.

He'll take it if he could manage to get both of you out of Hawkins and anywhere else. He wants to give you a perfect life, one that leaves neither of you wanting for a damn thing. So he lets his fingers play his guitar strings, and the words fall effortlessly from his mouth.

You are never surprised to hear what Eddie has come up with. He never strays too far away from his roots. Songs about his younger life, ones about his uncle, and recently, songs about you. How you brightened his day in a way he never thought was possible, how your soft touches drove him crazy and simultaneously caused him to fall even deeper in love with you.

Tonight is no different. The chords start off hyped up. Drums echo through the small bar, and the songs shift more heartfelt about halfway through the routine. You're surprised at how many people in the bar stop and listen to the lyrics every week.

Eddie's voice echoes through the speakers, and that's the only sound for a long while before someone claps and whistles. Outside, summer cools as the sunsets and the band starts to shuffle from behind the stage. Opting every time to just go through the back door of the bar. You always meet them out on the forgotten picnic benches.

Sweat drips from all of their foreheads. They are sweaty but happy, so you wait for the gaggle to join. Eddie has stripped himself of the leather jacket, stating, "I don't wanna ruin it; ya know, it was pretty expensive." The. group laughs, but you know better. The coat is from the Salvation Army or maybe an old box of Wayne's clothes. Eddie, on the other hand, is hot and just doesn't wanna admit that wearing the damn jacket wasn't the most brilliant move in July.

Even in the sticky weather, you still like it when Eddie wraps a protective arm around your shoulder and moves you closer to his side.

"We should get some nachos," Eddie says before looking at you. You nod, and then he's gone, walking back into the bar to grab an order of nachos and drinks for the table. Eddie's friends aren't pushy about knowing the details of your relationship. All they genuinely care about is whether or not Eddie is happy, and from what they can see and hear from Eddie, he's happy as a clam with you.

A few minutes later, Eddie returns with too many drinks for his hands to hold, and a waiter is behind him with a massive plate of nachos. "Let me know if there's anything else I can get you," the waiter says before rushing off.

The nachos went over wonderfully, and the conversation was anything but light. It ranged from the next time they'd perform to when and where the next D&D session would be played. Where was always the critical question? For the last few years, it had been played that you and Eddie had shared an apartment. The living room completely transformed into a space that would hold the four original players and any additional ones that joined.

The conversation slowed as the waiter returned with a small plate and a piece of pie, placing it in front of you. "I didn't." Eddie interrupts you. "I ordered it; I have a surprise for you, sweetheart." The way a mischievous grin grows on Eddie's face has you worrying. It's the same look from earlier before the show started.

"What do you have planned, mister?" You ask, looking around to see just as much shock on Eddie's friend's faces as yours. "Oh don't worry sugar it's nothing bad, it's actually the opposite of bad." He licks his lips before getting up from the spot next to you.

Bending on one knee. "Eddie?!" You shout and know you're drawing attention to yourself, but you don't care. Eddie is proposing to you in the front parking lot of the damn bar.

You aren't surprised by Eddie's approach to this; you're just surprised that you're here now. "Well, what do you say, sweetheart? Do you want to marry me?" You chuckle and nod your head with excitement.

"Of course, I'm gonna marry you, dumbass." Everyone laughs because everyone knows that you're the only one allowed to call him a dumbass, but also, they all know he's a dumbass. "Good, now come here so I can pick this damn ring on your finger." He mutters, dragging your body closer to his. Your hand fits perfectly in his, and the ring fits perfectly on your finger.

"GOd you two are so fucking sweet." Band members said, 'ruining' the sweet moment. "Fuck yes we are; now go find your own loving and amazing girlfriend to propose to," Eddie mutters before squeezing you tightly to his side.

Completed on: 07/20/24

Posted on: 07/20/24

The Adults-

[roomsofangel]

GROWING PAINS . . . # CHAPTER ONE !

synopsis you hated christmas. simple. this year was no different, the only thing changing was the scenery when you decide to let your older brother, yunho convince you to visit your grandmother who neither of you had met but hoped it would do some good. everything was still the same — writer’s block, the winter loneliness, the way yunho won’t stop singing jingle bell rock, yeah, everything was the same. at least, until a certain blonde haired boy made it his mission to melt your iced heart.

warnings none

wc 745

if you’d like to be added to the taglist please either send an ask in my inbox or leave a comment to be added to the taglist! reblogs and comments are also very appreciated! ^_^

your hand held the pen with a firm grip, shakily tracing a few squiggled lines on your clean sheet of paper that wouldn’t be for much longer, teeth sinking into your bottom lip enough to draw the taste of metallic. “this is bullshit.” you set the pen down on the desk, running your fingers through the strands of your hair with a slight tug at your scalp, “do you think i’m allowed to fail?” you called out to your brother who walked in with his hands to his head, towel being used to dry his fresh out the shower hair

“you can just finish it after the trip,” yunho shrugged, aiming the towel to the side while you heard him mumble that he’d get that later and hurried to raid the refrigerator for orange juice, “need apple by the way,” he voiced while scavenging for a glass

you groaned, scrunching the paper into a ball and throwing it into—missing—the garbage can. “i want to do it now though,” you leaned your head back to watch your brother who looked as if he was a kid on a sugar rush, pouring his juice and grabbing a quick granola bar before slipping on his jacket and shoes while stumbling

“who knows, maybe you’ll find muse there,” he replied with a teasing tone, a kissy face being cut short by you aiming a pencil to his chest, “hey! i’m sensitive, ya know!” exaggerating a few of the words before laughing it off, “but come on, we need to get going, you got your bag?”

you scoffed, “of course i do,” leaning to the side to grab your drawstring bag before standing, “you ready?”

yunho hummed, and that was enough of a response for you. both of you sharing the same mutual thought.

no, the fuck not.

“do you think she’ll like us?” you couldn’t help but ask outloud, kicking a small rock on the ground while you walked alongside your brother up the driveway of your grandma’s house, glancing at yunho who shrugged, hands shoved into his jacket’s pockets

ears red and nose rosy, yunho cleared his throat, “she didn’t even like dad,” he amused, but you saw right through it. he was worried about the same thing.

three knocks on the door were made while you looked around the unfamiliar neighborhood that made you feel small. compared to the small overloaded home you and yunho were raised in, this seemed like a five star resort.

“is she even here?” you asked, and yunho pulled out his phone in a haste, checking the time and dialing a number

“let me check.”

“you mean we came here and you don’t even know if she’s home, yunho?!” you shrieked, your bag falling onto the ground as you found yourself running your fingers through your hair, hands on your head before you sat on the benches that resided on her patio, messing with the strings from your worn out jeans

your eyes scanned the neighborhood while you blocked and muffled out yunho’s ranting and worrying, gaze locking on a guy who had his hair tucked into a beanie and hands stuffed into his pockets while he had a mask covering most of his features. his eyes were pretty, catlike even.

messing with your chipped nail polish, you froze at the sudden turn he had done, eyes locking with yours. the cold winter air suddenly felt like summer heat and you blinked a few times to look at the ground, more-so at your hands that were getting a bit too cold

“okay, key’s under the mat, she’s out grocery shopping,” yunho ended the call and aimed the next conversation with you who nodded in response, standing and dusting yourself off while he kneeled down and lifted the corner of the WELCOME doormat to see a silver key. an extra. thank god.

hearing the click and the door opening, “thank fuck,” yunho muttered before entering, you walked up to the doorway and turned to look at where you remember seeing the pretty stranger

and much to your bittersweet dismay, he wasn’t still looking at you. instead— he was raking up snow from the lawn, this time without his mask and singing under his breath, or at least you assumed with the rhythm of dance he was showing while mouthing something—that, and you noticed the airpods in his ears while he stayed focused on his task.

maybe the temporary stay wouldn’t be too bad.

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[alittlepudge-neverhurtnobody]

kinktober #14

Pumpkin Spice 🎃 / Alien Abduction 🛸

“We don’t do pumpkin spice,” Jack says flatly.

Bitty’s mouth falls open a little. “But — it’s fall! It’s what the people want! Aren’t you losing business to every other coffee shop between August and November?”

“No.” Jack swipes a molecule of ground coffee Bitty can’t even see from the butcher block counter. “We sell specialty coffee. If people want pumpkin spice, they go somewhere else.”

Bitty’s romantic daydreams of cinnamon-and-nutmeg-scented fall afternoons staring out of Zimmermann’s big front windows deflate in a gust of cold air. When Jack introduced himself ten minutes ago, he’d only fueled those daydreams — the sweet agony of a cute coworker crush, some eye candy to make slow shifts pass faster — but now, in front of Bitty with his strong, thick arms crossed over his soft, thick middle, he just seems like a taunt.

Bitty follows Jack’s lead and ties on an apron, then washes his hands. He tries very hard not to notice while he can loop his apron strings all the way around and lace them in front, Jack can’t. 

“Have you thought about selling pastries?” he ventures as Jack silently fills cold brew pitchers and counts jugs of milk in the fridge, noting down the totals with a pen he pulls from the apron pocket that sits below the overhang of his belly. He doesn’t acknowledge that Bitty has spoken, so Bitty rushes on nervously, “I just think people like to have something sweet with their coffee, and this is really the only high-end place in the neighborhood if you’re looking for —”

Jack’s cold blue eyes snap onto him instantly. “What’s your name? Bittle?” Bitty gulps, nods. “No, Bittle. Come on. We open in half an hour and you’re wasting time.”

“You can call me Bitty,” he ventures, grabbing a rag and wiping up some water he’d spilled earlier filling the cold brew jugs. “Everyone does.”

Jack doesn’t reply. Instead, he turns away to pour beans into the grinder’s hopper, and Bitty’s teeth find his lower lip. He is definitely tanking his first shift. Ugh. The older man he’d interviewed with had been so nice! So easygoing and fatherly, with a comforting accent that Bitty thought was Canadian but wasn’t quite sure. He sure had neglected to mention that the shift manager here was such a pill.

Tomorrow he’ll bring pie. That’ll sweeten things up. 

—

Jack does not touch the hand pies the next day or the next, which means that Bitty’s got a shitty attitude for most of the week. Nobody passes up his pies! It’s — well, it’s impolite, for starters, and more than that it’s bad taste. How dare Jack be so dang cute when he clearly lacks good judgment?! 

Except then, half an hour before the end of Bitty’s mid-morning shift on Friday, Jack says abruptly, “I’m taking a break. Can you handle things alone for a few minutes?”

Bitty bobs his head. “Of course! No problem. Um, can I text you if I have any questions?”

Jack sighs. “If you have to. You have my number from training?”

Bitty bobs his head faster. He sure does, and it’s burning a hole in his pocket. 

“D’accord,” says Jack, clocking out on the register. The word rings a faint bell in the back of Bitty’s brain — high school French, maybe? Extremely hot if so. 

He handles a handful of customers on his own while Jack’s gone — mostly young professionals dressed in expensive-looking neutrals — and even manages to get a decent tip when he’s able to calm a harried parent’s wailing infant by wiggling his eyebrows. He doesn’t break anything, doesn’t ring anyone up egregiously wrong, doesn’t even spill more than a few drops of freshly brewed dark roast. When Jack reappears from his break, the shop is still standing and there are even a few satisfied customers poking at emails at the cafe tables. None of which explains how surly Jack looks as he clocks back in.

“I think I did okay!” Bitty babbles, fixing himself a to-go cup of cold brew and dumping in plenty of cream and sugar. “Nothing blew up, obviously, and I reset the brew cycle like you showed me, and I even remembered to use a separate frother for the nut milk!”

Jack scowls. 

“Do you want me to make you something before I go?” Bitty goes on, unable to stop. “I could practice some of the harder stuff! Or I could try the espresso machine again?”

“I’m fine,” says Jack tersely, and he doesn’t say anything he doesn’t have to for the rest of Bitty’s shift. When his belly settles on the counter as he pulls espresso shots, he repositions roughly and sucks in. But out of the corner of his eye, Bitty notices him palming his gut under the edge of the counter. He’s probably starving. Jack’s been here since the shop opened at six, and he hasn’t even had a cup of coffee, for heaven’s sake! 

But when he goes to the back of house to get his things, there are only twelve hand pies left on the plate — and there were sixteen when he packed it up this morning.

Well, well. Maybe someone likes pumpkin spice after all.

[watsittoyah]

Before The Snow, Came The Flame…

Young!Coriolanus snow x blk fem!reader

Theme: Morally gray themes, talks of suicide, heavy sexual content. Possessive/Obsessive behavior. This is pure fiction and should only be consumed as such…

Previously

Chapter 01 A Rose With Thorns (Pt. 1)

(Rated M)

(Sexual Act 1- Oral sex male receiving, fingering. )

Evangeline-

Snow is dangerous to the living. Everyone allows their youths to play in it, but I know better. If you have too much of it, it throws off the balance of nature. If you’re not careful it can burry you alive and muffle your screams. Snow…is a threat to the living.

Coriolanus hasn’t come to visit me in the past three days and oddly, that bothers me. It’s almost as if I’m having withdrawals from him.

And I don’t like that at all.

“Good news Evangeline.” I hear Bugs’ voice as I lay there staring at the ceiling, contemplating on why I’m becoming codependent on Coriolanus’ presence. “I’ll be going home today?” I ask sitting up on my elbows.

I hear him fiddling with the lock and I raise a brow when I see him unlock my cell door and let it swing open. I stare at him for a moment and he stares back, but in an awkward manner.

“You don’t have to stay in the cells anymore. You have to be under surveillance for a little longer-”

“Then what’s the point in leaving the cells if I’m going to be watched? It’s like you’re letting a dog out of its cage but putting a leash on it.” I ask not even bothering to hide my disappointment.

“Coryo had managed to pull some strings to get you out of this cell. He told the Mayer of this district that it was inhumane to keep you in here.”

My skin prickles hearing that information. “Where is Coriolanus? I feel like he would want to be the one to tell me about this.” I ask slowly moving off of the cot. “He is on assignment. But he told me specifically to come and get you. If not me it would’ve been Duke and well we know how much bad blood there is between you two.”

I walk over to him look into his muddy brown eyes. Bugs wasn’t threatening in the slightest. In fact it was quite laughable to see him as a Peace Maker. He was thin, like a stick bug and I can bet all the lint in my pocket that I could break his nose with a simple palm tap.

But I’m going to behave. And when it’s dark and the district is fast asleep I will leave and never come back.

I was going to tell him thank you but he moves behind me and he cuffs my hands behind my back. “Sorry, there’s one more stop we need to go to before I let you lose.” He says in a sympathetic tone.

Of course there’s a catch, there seems to always be something with these people.

I was tempted to ask if this last stop was on the terms of the Mayer or Coriolanus? But that question became stuck on the roof of my mouth like thick peanut butter.

I keep my mouth shut and follow him out of the building. The sun feels good against my brown skin. Hell if I could drink the sun I’d get drunk off of it. My bliss was interrupted as I hear the whispers of the townspeople but I keep my head down.

“Devil child.”

“I hear she’s a wife of satan.”

“Poor thing.”

I feel my jaw clench hearing the comments but I keep my head down. “Watch your step.” Bugs says as he leads me inside of an infirmary.

Inside I see an odd woman with dirty blonde hair. “Ah, just the child I wanted to see.” She says as she peers at me above her glasses. “I’m not a child.” I fire at her.

No, no, no, don’t let them see the fire in you, Evangeline.

She claps her hands in glee and shoos Bugs away after he takes my cuffs off. “Come come, we have much to do.” She ushers me into a room and she tells me to sit down on the bed.

Once I’m sat, the woman introduces herself to me. “My name is Augusta Bleep. I am the closest thing to a medical doctor in district 12 and before you ask about my credentials, look around this room dear. I have my paperwork in order.”

This woman makes me want to drive a pen in my ear canal so I don’t have to listen to her. “It’s nice to meet you.” I lie as she gathers her things. “You don’t have to lie to me dear, I’m not the most liked person here in the district other than yourself. Children hate when they have to come see me and the adults avoid me at all cost. But that is medicine for you. Now, since you shall be staying a bit longer, I have been told to give you a check up and make sure you’re in good health.”

I nod and she soon begins. “Alright I’m going to check your heart beat.” She takes out her stethoscope and tells me to sit still.

The ice cold instrument touches my hot skin and I flinch hard. “Oh, I do apologize for that. I should’ve warmed it up for you.” I hold back the many curse words I wanted to spit at her. I just bite my tongue and let her continue…

••••

When she was finally finished, I was left feeling like she had violated me. No wonder everyone hates this woman.

I had put my clothing back on while she was scribbling down something in her notepad. “Miss Flame, you have a clean bill of health. I do hope you’ll stop by in the near future.”

I give her a nod. “I wouldn’t count on that.” I admit to her. She simply smiles at my honesty and tells me that I could leave.

When I made it outside, I see Bugs talking to Coriolanus. When his light blue eyes met my face, my heart started to ache.

I should run back inside and talk to Doc Bleep, because clearly I am having a heart attack of some sort. Why else would my heart feel like this?

“I’ll take it from here, Bugs.” Coriolanus tells him as he steps up to me. “Follow me. I will be bringing you over to your new residence.” He tells me as he turns on his heel. I simply obey and give Bugs a gentle smile as I pass him.

As we walk further and further to the edge of town, I notice how Coriolanus was silent. I’d figure he’d be elated to see me, or at least have some conversation. But instead I’m met with silence.

When we finally make it to a shack like house, he had stopped abruptly. “I’ll see about getting you better living conditions. But this is just about all that can be done for you Evangeline.” Coriolanus says as he opens the door for me.

I step inside and I was greeted by a warm fire. I gravitate towards the dancing flames and I kneel in front of it.

I then take in my surroundings. The shack wasn’t glamorous, if anything it was only slightly livable. I think the cell was a better fit for me, but this was fine. I’d be gone by tonight anyways.

I hear him close the door behind us and when I turned I was greeted by a red rose. Coriolanus had held it out to me and I stood up, staring at his gift.

“Forgive me for not coming to see you for the past few days, as a Peace Keeper, the work is quite demanding of my free time. But I’m all yours for the rest of the day.” He says waiting for me to accept the rose.

I take it out of generosity but wince when I feel something prick me. “Ouch!” I drop the rose and was about to bring my pricked finger to my lips. But he had grabbed my wrist and plunged the digit in his mouth.

As he sucked, I felt a shiver because it reminded me of what he did to me in the mess room. As much as I wanted to draw my hand back from him, my body stood frozen. My inner thighs throbbed.

Hell my slit started to drip thinking of his tongue assaulting it once more.

When he finally popped my finger out of his mouth he looked a bit pleased. “Forgive me again my little rose. I thought I had cut all the thorns off. I’ll be sure not to make that mistake again.”

“It’s..fine. It was just a simple mistake.” I go to bend down to grab the rose but he was quicker and he tossed it into the fire.

He doesn’t say anything else. Only stepped closer to me. “A rose with thorns…pity it went to waste. But enough about that, how about I take you out tonight? To celebrate your freedom.”

I hide my spike of anger. “Freedom?” I ask keeping my voice calm. “Yes, I know this isn’t your home. But it can be something. I can be your home.” He says as he brings his warm hands to my face. “Why are you being kind to me, Coriolanus? I’m not District, I’m not Capital. I’m a stranger. And hardly anyone here likes me. Why?”

He cocks his head at me. “Because you’re special. Like the golden rose I told you about. And you did say yes to me.”

Hearing him say that last sentence made me feel cold all over even though I was still by the fire. “I bet you say that to all the girls here.” I say staring up into his eyes.

His hand twitches against my face. “No just you. Only you. Because you’re special Evangeline. Would it be okay if I spend the night with you?” I move his hands off of me and take a step back.

“Thank you for pulling the strings for getting me…this.” I spread my arms wide and turn my back to him. Staring deeply into the fire. Watching as the flames lick up the blackened fire place.

He can’t stay, he can’t spend the night because then I have to stay one more night.

I feel his arms wrap around me and my body tenses. “You’re welcome…” I feel his nose brush against the back of my neck and I hear him inhale. “Can I stay the night, Evangeline?” He asks again. “Wont you get in trouble for being away from the bunks?” I ask him. “I’ll have people looking out for me. Besides, my little rose needs some extra attention since I’ve been away.”

I hold the groan in because he’s going to ruin my plans. I turn in his arms and bring my arms up so my hands can rest on his broad shoulders. “I guess I can let you stay the night. To show my gratitude.” He holds my chin between his thumb and index finger and studies my face.

“You wouldn’t leave in the dead of night would you?” He asks as if he’s reading my thoughts. I don’t let any emotion show on my face. “No, of course not. I miss my family but I’m sure they think I’m dead. Wouldn’t they have came for me by now?” He nods at my question as if reassuring himself. “You know, from this angle…you have little golden flecks in your eyes.” He murmured.

I swallow hard because this is exhausting, trying to keep masking my eyes. So I close them and move my face close to his. I then bury my head in his chest and move my arms so that it looks like I’m hugging him.

“If you’re going to spend the night, then please let me prepare dinner for you. As a thank you.”

Maybe if he leaves, I can just slip away.

I think to myself as my eyes cool off. “Don’t worry about dinner, we can go to the hub tonight and get some food there. And don’t worry about anyone bothering you. I’ll be there.” Coriolanus says as he rests his chin on my head.

I let this go because if I let my emotions get the best of me…I’ll surely burn this place down to the ground.

Coriolanus-

She’s pulling away from me like a mouse trying to run from her capture. I know she wants to run but I won’t let that happen.

It was night time and I was ushering Evangeline into the hub. I felt all eyes on her as she entered. If she felt uncomfortable, she didn’t let it show. In fact she owned the attention.

A woman with that kind of confidence was surly a woman I would want to have by my side. She would be a wonderful addition to the Snow family.

I watch as she takes in her surroundings. “Coryo. Evangeline.” Bugs greets as him and Duke both walks to us. Duke was drinking something, probably white liquor, and glaring at Evangeline.

I step in front of her and make sure I make eye contact with him as I speak. “Hello gentlemen. I hope you don’t mind me brining Evangeline along. I figured I could show her around seeing that she’s not seen as a threat.” I make sure that I put the emphasis on the word threat when I speak and Duke just grunts.

“Fine by me, but make sure you keep your little monster on a leash tonight. Wouldn’t want any fires to start out of nowhere.” He spits past me.

I can feel an odd heat from Evangeline. When I look at her she kept her head held high. “I’ll be sure to be on my best behavior. Though I’m sure a mutt such as yourself should be the one on a leash.” She says with a straight face.

Bugs snickers at her comment and I can’t help but feel a smile crawl across my lips. My little rose is letting her thorns cut deep tonight. I like it.

Duke just walks away, looking red in the face. “I’ll go talk to him. We’re going to be sitting in the front row for the entertainment if you two are interested in being close by.” Bugs excuses himself then and runs after Duke. I turn to her and lean down to whisper.

“You know Duke is definitely going to find a way to get you back for that comment.” She shrugs. “I’d like to see him try.” For a split second I swear I see one of her eyes turn to a dark amber color. But she blinks and they’re both brown.

“Would you like anything to drink?” I offer. “I’ll have some white liquor no ice.” I nod and as I start to walk away I see two men looking at Evangeline. They were whispering and smirking.

I turn back to her then. “I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.” Before she could comment I lean down and I kiss her temple, showing them that she’s mine.

As I stand by the bar to get our drinks I see Evangeline talking with Sinder. She was smiling at her and touching her swollen belly.

Why hasn’t she smiled like that with me? I’ve given her a taste of freedom, shouldn’t she be happy that she’s with me and not in that cell?

“Here you go Coryo.” The bartender says handing me two drinks. I accept them and as I make my way to her, I feel this burn in my chest.

I want her to hunger for me, I want her to ache for me just as I did when I was away from her.

All those nights that I was away from her made me feel unhinged. I know I am slowly going mad, but what’s a little madness if I can’t enjoy my little rose.

She had her hand on her neck as she spoke to Sinder, and that’s when I’m reminded of when I had my hand around her throat. To control her breathing, to have her attention on me. It was euphoric.

I feel my cock twitch as I see her lips slide across her bottom lip. And her eyes glance my way.

Get control over yourself Coriolanus. You’re not a boy who gets excited to see flesh.

I tell myself as I hand her the glass. “Thank you.” She tells me as our hands brush. Her touch was hot to the touch.

Hmm?

“Sinder, it’s so nice to see you. Though I don’t think the hub is a place for a woman in your condition.” I say as she avoids eye contact with me.

“Well you know me, I’m just here to support my husbands band. Oh there goes Annabelle. Evangeline I’ll be seeing you.” She rushes away from us and I wonder something.

“What were you and Sinder Cobble talking about?” I ask as I watch her take her drink in one gulp. She doesn’t even flinch. “Just having some girl chat and talking about her baby. Nothing too interesting.”

“It seemed quite interesting from where I was standing.” I challenge as I gulp my drink. She places her glass on a table and she turns to me, smiling devilishly.

“Coriolanus, darling you sound jealous of Sinder Cobble.”

“Only jealous that you don’t laugh with me like that.” I admit to her. She leans in close as well as I. “She may make me laugh but you’re the one who makes me make those sweet noises.” She whispers against my ear, causing my cock to twitch again.

I clench my jaw and I go to reach for her throat but she was pulled away from me. I feel instant anger when I see Bugs had pulled her away for a dance.

She looked surprised in the action but she throws her head back and laughs.

No, no, no. Don’t laugh like that with another man while you’re in front of me!

You’re mine Evangeline, don’t you understand that you’re my most precious possession?

I put my glass down angrily, ready to snatch her away from him but Davina Court slinks her arms around me. “Well hello there stranger.” She says looking up at me lovingly.

“Not now Davina.” I go to move her hands off of me but she grips me tighter and pouts. “Don’t be like that, baby. Why don’t you come around and see me at the shop anymore?”

“Because I have no reason to go there.” I tell her bluntly. Her grip on me loosens. “Did I do something wrong?” I ignore her question and move away from her.

But she doesn’t let up. She grabs a hold of my jacket. “Please, don’t do this. I thought what we had was special.” I ignore her and look back at Evangeline and I see she’s getting lost in the crowd of dancing bodies.

I turn back to Davina sharply making her flinch. “Let go or I will give you a reason you’ll never want to see me walking around this district.” I tell her coldly. She releases the hold of my jacket and I take off in the direction I had seen Evangeline last. When I get close, I see she’s gone and I feel my blood boiling.

Where are you little rose? You couldn’t have gotten away that easily.

I look around and my eyes land on Bugs. He was talking to Sejanus and Clifton. I had to keep my temper down, because if I didn’t I would’ve grabbed Bugs from his seat and bashed his skull into the dance floor.

“Bugs, do you know where Evangeline wandered off to?” I ask him as I take a few calm breathes. “Careful there, Coryo. If you keep hanging around that’s girl, people are going to think you’re her guard dog.” Clifton jokes.

I give him an icy glare which makes the laugh in his throat stop. “Uh, she said she needed some air. So she might be outsi-“ I turn on my heel not caring to let Bugs finish his sentence.

Evangeline oh my sweet little rose. I’m going to teach you that if you ever laugh like that with another man and leave my sight without my permission, there will be consequences that you’ll have to face….

“I guess I have to pluck a few pedals off of my flower…”

Evangeline-

Bugs is funny, and he’s warm hearted. The way he made me feel happy and included on the dance floor gave me a bit of happiness.

He also reminds me of Jonathan. Which makes me wonder what he’s doing. Maybe he’s bickering with Nana-Bee about his eye color change. Or maybe he’s out there…looking for me?

I look up at the red moon and I feel a tear fall. Snow is coming and I can feel it in the air. I need warmth, I need my family. I need my freedom. I sniffle back a tear as I hear the back door to the hub open.

I feel a presence behind me and when I turn I see Coriolanus. He was giving off a strange chill.

Be cautious, Evangeline.

My instincts tell me.

“Why are you out here?” He asks in a husky tone. “I just needed some fresh air. You know it’s a red moon tonight. Which means it’s the start of the winter solstice.” I tell him as I turn away from him. I assume he nods because I don’t hear a response.

He seems to creep closer to me, like a snake would do to its prey. “That’s nice to know. So what did Bugs and you talk about?” I keep the annoyance out of my tone. “He just told me a silly little joke. That’s all.” I say with a shrug.

“Seemed like he had told you something quite funny. So tell me, what was the joke?” The frost coming from him gave me the chills. “Why don’t you go ask him. I’m sure he can tell you the joke better than I can.” I hiss in response.

“No, I want to you to tell the best way you can, Evangeline.” He says as he moves in front of me. I avoid his narrowed eyes and I look past him. We are like that for only a pregnant pause.

He then moves so that I’m staring into his eyes. The darkness in his pupils would make any mere mortal back down. But I am not a mere mortal and I sure as hell wasn’t going to back down. I feel a flicker in my eyes and I hate that I have to look away because he will think he’s won.

“Fine, don’t tell me. In fact don’t even utter a fucking word.” He grabs a hold of my wrist and snatches me up. “Ouch! You’re hurting me! Coriolanus! You’re hurting m-” He grabs my throat quickly and pins me up against the wall of the hub.

“You…don’t speak.” He says through clenched teeth. “I think it is safe to say that I think you are a fascinating creature. I confess that when you aren’t in my presence I get a bit…possessive. But can you blame me? I want to keep you in my sight at all times just like a beautiful garden. You haunt my thoughts like a sickness and I don’t want a cure. I want your poison to set a fire in a veins and have me wither in agony. But I want you to feel the same. I want to be the only person you look for when you awaken. I want to be the only person you dream about when you fall asleep. I want my scent to make your pretty little pussy clench. I want you to need me like your lungs need air.”

He says that as he squeezes my throat a bit tighter. “Corio-” He interrupts me with a kiss. They way his lips pressed against mine made all the air leave my body. I know I should push this lunatic off of me but as his hand releases my throat, he pinned my wrists above my head.

I feel his erection against my belly button and I can’t help but let a moan escape my lips. He sucks my lip and I feel my knees shake. When he lets go he looks down at me and I want nothing more than to please him.

I go to open my mouth but he raises a brow, letting me know that if I speak, I will get something I don’t want. So I close my lips. “I want to give you so much but you made me upset tonight. But I’ll make sure you never want to leave my sight again. Or laugh with other men.”

With a quick move, Coriolanus keeps my hands pinned above my head with one hand while he takes the other and moves it under my skirt.

When he finds my wet covered clit, I let out a gasp. I lean against the wall so that my legs were supported and didn’t give out as he lets his skillful fingers roam my pussy.

He leans down and lets his tongue lick my throat. I feel his sharp teeth bite and pull at my skin. I feel the pain but also the pleasure as he gently thrusts his fingers in and out of me. When he finds my g-spot I let my head fall back and close my eyes.

I suddenly feel a sharp yank to my locs and I groan as I feel his fingers leave me. “Don’t close your eyes. I want to see the want and hunger in them.” He says with his teeth close to my ear. When he sees I’m obedient, he continues. I feel my pussy starting to clench and I let out a breathy moan.

“You want to come don’t you? You want to spill those juices down these pretty thighs?” He asks as he goes painstakingly slow. I mouth yes and I feel my orgasm about to come but he stops. “I don’t think so.” He slides out of me and I go to speak but he pins my entire body against the wall.

“You don’t deserve to. But I’ll be merciful this one time. If you feel as if you deserve to come then show me…with this devilish mouth of yours, Evangeline.” He smirks and I hear him loosening his pants.

He lets my hands go and on instinct I drop to my knees. As he pulls his cock out I see how slick the tip is in the moonlight. I lean forward to touch him but he leans back. “No hands. I just want you to earn that orgasm with your mouth, little rose.” He says to me.

I place my hands on my lap and I open my mouth. He looks down at me as if I’m ready to worship him and he slides his thumb in my mouth. I watch him shiver as I suck.

“You’ll earn that orgasm I’m sure of it.” He pops his thumb out of my mouth and he lets the head of his cock brush against my lips, as if to say open.

I open my mouth and I lick up the dribbles of pre. I watch as his eyes roll back slightly as I slide him past my lips. “Fuck…” He moans as he places his hands on the back of my head.

As the pleasure plays across his face, I squeeze my thighs together, feeling my clit rub against my soaked panties. “Such a good mouth you have little rose. I can’t wait to see how good your entire body feels.” Coriolanus groans as he guides my head further down.

I feel a choke coming but he doesn’t stop. “No, no, no. I know you can take it. Be my good little rose and take it down your throat.” He presses my head against the wall and I feel his pelvis meet my nose. When he slides out of my mouth I take in a deep breath and I cough.

“See that wasn’t so bad. I knew you could take it. Do you want to continue?” He asks as he stroke his thumb over my bottom lip. The hunger I see in his pale blue eyes made me groan. “Yes.” I say in a hoarse whisper. He smiles which doesn’t quite meet his eyes.

“That’s my girl.” He slides his cock back in my mouth and I feel my gag reflex tickle as he thrusts in and out of my lips. I know he said no hands but I press my palms against his bucking hips. Hearing him moan out in pleasure made me rock my hips faster.

God I wanted this man to make me come. I wanted him to come. I didn’t even care if we got caught. I just wanted both of our pleasure to be released.

Coriolanus moved my hands off of his hips and held them in the air as he began to fuck my face against the wall. My eyes started to roll back as I felt my orgasm building with his. “That’s it, take my cock down this pretty throat of yours. I want you to be drunk from my cock.” He moans as I feel his balls twitch against my chin.

He stills and keeps his pelvis press against my lips as I feel the ropes of come shoot down my throat. I swallow as much as I could but feel it mix with my drool as he slides his still hard cock out of my mouth.

“You are beautiful.” He says as he lifts me up off of my knees and kisses me. The way his tongue danced with mine, made me dizzy and lustful. I moved my tongue with his as I feel him lift my leg onto his hip.

“I can’t wait to be inside of you. I want to fuck you so deep, that I’ll leave an imprint.” He says as he lifts my skirt and pulls my panties to the side. “Please, please, please.” I beg him as I lift my hips and move in his direction. I feel the tip about to slide inside but a loud-

BOOM!

-Interrupts us. We hear people screaming and running out of the hub. Coriolanus quickly fixes himself as well as myself and he takes a hold of my hand.

As we run, he spots Clifton. “What’s going on?” Coriolanus asks. “Someone set off a bomb! I think it’s rebels! We need to get out of here!” Clifton yells. I notice blood coming out of his ear as he takes off. “Evangeline, go home and lock your doors. I’ll come by later.”

“But what about you?” I yell, trying to be heard over the screaming. “I’ll be okay! Just go!” He pushes me ahead and I run with the crowd. I glance back at the hub and see it was set ablaze. The fire looked chaotic and beautiful, with the colors and dancing flames.

When I look forward I had ran into something heavy and thick. “Wheresyouthinkyouregoing?” I smell rancid breathe and I almost gag.

Duke was in front of me and I see he’s swaying a bit.

As I try to back up, I get grabbed and yanked hard by the hair. “Let me go! LET ME G-” I feel a hard hit to my stomach and I throw up anything I had consumed.

“I bet you started this. But you know what, this is perfect.” He drags me off and as I try to fight him off, he tightens his hold on me.

“I saw what you did to Coriolanus. I bet you’d open your legs to anyone.” He spat at me. “I wouldn’t fuck a disgusting pig like you!”

He throws me to the ground away from the crowd and as I go to get up he sends a heavy boot to my face, which causes blood to pool in my mouth.

“See I told Coriolanus to keep a leash on you. But you know little monster like you just seem to always get loose. I should shoot him in the head for fucking a disgusting creature. And who are you calling a pig? When you’re the filthy little slut sucking off Peace Keepers. But you know what? Since I can’t have my ticket to heaven, then I’m going to get something else out of you.”

I kick hard into his crotch as he kneels near me. He falls over in pain. “Oof!”

I scramble up to run but I feel him grab my ankle and he yanks. He manages to get on top of me and pins me down. “I’m going to fuck you and then I’m going to beat you until not even the dogs will want to play with you.” He says as he uses all of his weight on me.

No, I won’t let this happen. I refuse for this to happen.

I feel him pin my legs apart and he rips my skirt down, exposing myself to him. I hear him go for his pants and I look around. I find a decent sized rock but it was just out of my reach from where I can see.

I use my quick thinking and I gather the blood in my mouth and spit directly in his eyes. When it makes contact, his flesh begins to cook. He screams bloody murder and I scramble away from him.

I grab the rock as he gets a hold of my blouse and I crack him across the face causing him to let me go.

I see a cut on his forehead which fuels the fire in me. “Shame I can’t drag this out.” I mutter as I raise the rock and hit him again. This time he falls down and I crawl on top of him.

He screams as he waves his hands wildly. I pin his arms down with my knees and I hold his mouth open.

“See you in hell.” I say as I spit more blood and drool into his mouth. The second it hits his tongue a fire ignites. His face gets licked up in flames and he screams wildly. But instead of allowing him to draw attention. I raise the rock up high and I send it down, cracking his face in.

Crack!

I see his left eye pop loose.

Crack!

His front teeth goes flying.

Crack!

His forehead caves in.

CRACK!

His body goes still.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

Once I know he will no longer be a threat to me, I drop the rock and I get up. Duke’s head was now a splattered mess on the ground as well as a small inferno.

I stand back and watch as my fire slowly consumes his body. A smile spreads across my face as I watch his body char. His flesh cooks and I hope something comes to eat the rest of him. That is, if there’s anything left when my flame dies down.

“This is an interesting discovery.” I stiffen hearing a familiar voice behind me.

As I command my body to move, I turn around to see Coriolanus staring at me with no expression on his face.

Did he see what Duke was going to do to me? Or did he only see that I had set Duke’s body on fire?

I then remember my eyes and I shut them, trying to calm the fire inside of me. “What discovery Coriolanus?” I ask, keeping my eyes closed.

I feel him in front of me and when I dare to open my eyes he was just staring at me, with his hand reaching out to touch my hair. He captured my white loc in his fingers and twirls it with interest in his eyes.

“That my little rose has more than just thorns…”

Next

[niallerspayno]

Temporary Fix - Chapter One

Masterlist

The hotel room is quiet now, save for the hum of the air conditioning and the occasional rustle of sheets as Niall shifts in his sleep. You sit at the edge of the bed, the fabric crumpled beneath you, and tug your shirt over your head. You should leave. That’s the rule—no overnight stays.

But you hesitate, your gaze drifting to him.

He’s lying on his stomach, the sheets twisted around his waist. His cheek is pressed into the pillow, his hair a tousled mess, and his lips—God, his lips—still slightly swollen from hours spent pressed against yours. A sigh slips out before you can stop it, and you quickly glance away.

This wasn’t supposed to be complicated. It’s not like there weren’t rules. You remember them clearly, etched into the napkin he scribbled on that night in the lounge of the tour bus.

It had started innocently enough. Another night on tour, the adrenaline of the show slowly wearing off as the two of you lounged on the couch, beers in hand. You were both exhausted but content, laughing about some prank Louis had pulled earlier in the day.

“That was mental,” Niall had said, shaking his head. “The crowd tonight was unreal.”

You’d nodded, resting your head against the back of the couch. “Yeah. I need to sleep for a week after this tour ends.”

“Too right.” He took a sip of his beer and then, out of nowhere, asked, “You ever just… miss it?”

“Miss what?” you’d asked, not bothering to open your eyes.

“A good shag,” he replied, his voice low and casual. “Without the drama, you know?”

Your laugh came out louder than you intended, and you could feel his eyes on you as you tilted your head to look at him. His expression was serious, but there was a flicker of something mischievous in his blue eyes.

“Every damn day,” you admitted with a shrug.

He grinned then, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “So why don’t we fix that?”

“What?” You’d blinked at him, unsure if he was joking.

“You and me,” he said, like it was the simplest thing in the world. “No strings, no drama. Just when we feel like it.”

It sounded like a bad idea—a disaster waiting to happen. And yet, something about the ease in his voice, the comfort of being with him, made you pause.

“Okay,” you said finally. “But we need rules.”

He smirked, pulling a pen from the table and grabbing a napkin. “Alright, boss. Lay ’em on me.”

“First rule,” you said, leaning toward him, “no catching feelings. If one of us starts feeling… you know…”

“Madly in love?” he teased, grinning.

“Exactly. If that happens, we end it. No questions asked.”

He nodded, scrawling No feelings onto the napkin.

“Second rule,” you continued, “we don’t tell anyone. Especially not the guys. I’m not dealing with Louis’ jokes, Liam’s lectures, or Harry’s raised eyebrows.”

He laughed at that. “Fair point.” He added, No telling.

“Third rule: no staying the night,” you said. “We’re not a couple, so no couple behavior.”

He hesitated, frowning. “Bit harsh, but alright.” He wrote it down. No overnights.

“And fourth,” you finished, “this doesn’t interfere with the band. If it gets weird, we end it.”

He tapped the pen against the napkin, considering. Then he looked at you with that lopsided grin. “So, no feelings, no telling, no staying over, no drama. Simple enough.”

You’d laughed then, grabbing the napkin and tucking it into your pocket. And when his lips met yours for the first time, it felt natural, like something that was always meant to happen.

Now, standing in the dim hotel room, that memory feels both distant and too close for comfort. You pull your bag over your shoulder and glance back at Niall one last time. His breathing is slow and steady, his face peaceful.

The rules replay in your mind like a mantra.

No catching feelings.

No telling.

No staying the night.

No drama.

But as you quietly slip out the door and into the stillness of the hallway, you can’t help but wonder when the rules started to feel like they weren’t enough. It’s temporary, you remind yourself. Just a way to make this chaotic life a little easier.

You shut the door to your room softly behind you, the quiet of the hotel room wrapping around you like a familiar blanket. It’s always the same after these nights—silent, empty. You’re not sure if that’s comforting or suffocating, but it’s what you’ve grown used to.

The dim lighting casts long shadows across the room as you drop your bag onto the chair by the window. The tour has been a blur of rehearsals, shows, and late nights. You feel like you haven’t had a moment to yourself in forever, but now that you’re alone, the weight of what just happened settles in.

Your mind flashes back to Niall’s face, to the way his hand had brushed against yours when he pulled you closer. You feel a familiar pang in your chest, but you ignore it, focusing instead on the one thing that always helps clear your head: music.

You walk to the desk in the corner, where your notebook is lying open, pages filled with half-written lyrics. It’s been weeks since you’ve had time to properly write, but tonight, something inside you is calling for it. Maybe it’s the quiet of the room, or maybe it’s the confusion swirling in your mind, but you find yourself picking up the pen and letting the words flow.

You jot down a title at the top of the page: Temporary Fix.

The phrase echoes in your mind, a reflection of everything that’s been happening with Niall. This arrangement, these moments between you two—they were supposed to be a temporary fix to something that wasn’t meant to last.

But nothing about this feels temporary.

You begin to write, the words coming slowly at first. You’re trying to capture the feeling, the confusion, the pull. You hum quietly under your breath, the melody forming with ease.

“I'll be your temporary fix

You control me

Even if it's just tonight”

You stop, chewing on the end of your pen. The lines are hitting too close to home. You’re still trying to tell yourself this was just a fix, a temporary distraction, but every moment with Niall feels like it’s more than that. It’s harder to ignore the way his smile lingers in your thoughts, the way his touch leaves an impression.

You continue, the words coming quicker now, pouring out as you try to make sense of everything.

“You can call me

When you feel like

I'm your good time

I'll be your temporary fix”

Your fingers shake slightly as you write. The rules you set, the boundaries you agreed upon—they were supposed to keep things simple. Keep things light. But every time you see him, every touch, every kiss, it gets harder to remember that. The lines are blurring.

You scribble down the next part, the lyrics you know all too well:

“You can own me and we'll call this what you like”

You stop, your pen hovering over the page. You can’t help but think of Niall’s soft laugh, the way he had looked at you tonight, as though you were something more than just a fling. Maybe you were fooling yourself into thinking this arrangement could stay simple, but deep down, you both know it’s anything but.

You close your notebook, the weight of the song heavy in the air, as if the words are staring back at you, challenging you to face the truth. This wasn’t just a temporary fix. This was something real. Something you weren’t sure you could walk away from.

As you sit there, the world outside silent, you wonder how long you can keep pretending this was just a temporary fix. How long you can keep lying to yourself about what this really is.

Next chapter

[readyforthegarden]

Silver Springs - Part One

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x Original Female Character

Synopsis: The year was 1976, the season was summer. The days were hot and the nights were hotter. Music was the best it had ever been, especially rock music. Sam Kiszka has been riding the high of being in one of the top bands on the scene, but when his bands tour is accompanied by another up-and-coming band, with a lead singer that gets on his very last nerve, will everything come crashing down or will they end up making music that changes the world?

Warnings: Mentions of drug use, misogyny typical of the 1970s, 18+ only, Minors DNI

WC: 2712

🎶 🎶 🎶

“What is it like, being on top?” Sam smirked at the question, dragging his hand across his forehead in the hot sun as sweat beaded against his tanned skin. He held back a laugh at the obvious innuendo, leaning against the warm brick of the building.

“It’s a crazy feeling,” Sam answered the interviewer, who was holding a microphone out to him with a slightly shaking hand. “I never thought in a million years our music would reach so many people. We’re just some kids from the suburbs of Michigan, so to be at this level is insane.”

“You’re turning into hometown heroes, really.” the interviewer replied, chuckling at his moniker. “Record sales are at an all time high, you’re at the top of the charts, do you have any advice for any kids back home in their garages, trying to be the next Greta Van Fleet?”

“Yeah, don’t try to be the next Greta Van Fleet.” Sam grinned. “Be yourselves, write what speaks to you, play what sounds good to you. As long as you’re yourself you’ll go far.” They wrapped up the interview and Sam parted from the young man, starting his journey back to his bus across the parking lot. He pulled a cigarette out of the pack in the front pocket of his half buttoned shirt, slipping a lighter from his jeans pocket and lighting it.

“Hey, you’re Sam Kiszka, right?” Sam squinted in the sun, turning and seeing a young woman walking fast to catch up to his long stride.

“I am.” he replied. “If you want an autograph, I’m afraid I don’t have a pen. If you wanna shag, there’s a line forming over on the other side of the venue.”

“I don’t want either of those things, thank you though.” the girl scoffed lightly, slowing down now that she was beside him. “I’m actually a musician, a singer-songwriter, and I was wondering if you’d look over a few of my songs? I really dig the music you make, and it’d mean a lot.” Sam stopped with a sigh, turning to the girl. Her light, sandy brown hair was frizzed from the humidity, unkempt waves looking like she slept with her hair wet and the window open while tossing and turning. 

Her wide hazel eyes blinked up at him, and Sam glanced down, seeing her clutching a worn, tattered journal in her hands. She wore overalls with patches on the wide legged knees. They hung loosely on her and were faded, the t-shirt underneath short and snug to her body, making them clear signs of hand-me-downs or thrift finds.

“I guess,” Sam sighed, holding out his hand. The girl opened the book in her hands, flipping through the pages before handing it over to Sam. The page Sam looked down on was scribbled all over, words etched out, messy writing across the lines. A few spots were discolored, spots where maybe some water, possibly even tears had spilled over. His eyes scanned the lyrics, keeping a blank face as the young woman bit her lip nervously, ruffling her hair, a smattering of bracelets clattering along her wrist and forearm as she moved. 

Sam flipped through a few more pages before snapping the book shut, looking over to her. He thought carefully about what he wanted to say. The words she had written were good, and he couldn’t help the artistic jealousy that bubbled up in his chest that he never thought of stringing them together himself.

“What’s your name, kid?”

“Brandy.” she responded. “Brandy Lawson.”

“Well, Brandy Lawson,” Sam held up the book in front of him. “I wouldn’t quit your day job. You’ve got some potential, but nothing big in here. No one wants to hear a woman whining about her broken heart.” he watched Brandy’s eyes dim, her cheeks turning pink as she rolled her shoulders back against the blow to her ego.

“I appreciate the honesty.” Brandy reached out, taking her book back from Sam. “Really, thank you.” Sam felt a small twist in his gut, guilt setting in at crushing the girls’ dreams. He ran a hand through his brown, shoulder length hair with a sigh.

“Listen, it’s nothing personal,” he shrugged. He wanted to continue but couldn’t find decent enough words to tell her he thought her words were shit.

“No, no it’s not.” Brandy shook her head, clutching the journal to her chest again, a new spark in her eyes. “Thank you for your opinion, Mr. Kiszka. Have a good show.” she began to move away and Sam reached out, placing a large hand on her shoulder.

“Do you want an autograph or something?” he offered, trying to take the edge off the conversation. Brandy turned, smiling at him with a shake of her head.

“No. But you’ll be wanting mine one day.” she replied, so self-assured Sam was taken aback by the confidence. “See you around, Kiszka.”

Sam watched her walk away across the venue parking lot, the heels of her boots thunking against the pavement. She propelled herself with enough force the wind blew her hair back around her as she went. Something in him felt an inkling of admiration and a pang of annoyance at her sudden conviction.

“Hey, you coming to sound check?” Sam looked to his left, seeing his brother Jake ushering flagging him down. He and the rest of the band were heading inside the venue now. Sam nodded, jogging over to him. “What kept you so long? The magazine guy left a while ago.”

“Just some fan, wanted me to give advice on their songwriting.” Sam replied, waving his hand in front of him like Brandy had been an annoying fly buzzing around his head for the few minutes they interacted.

“Were they any good?” Jake asked curiously. Sam huffed out a laugh, holding open the stage door as his brother shuffled in.

“Just some school-kid drivel.” Sam shrugged.

“Aw, you mean like what you used to write?” Josh, Sam’s eldest brother wrapped an arm around Sam’s shoulder, using his knuckles to give him a playful noogie to the side of his head. 

“Knock it off,” Sam pushed Josh off of him gently. 

“We all have to start somewhere, Sammy.” Josh reminded him. 

“Well, she seems to think I’ll be asking for her autograph one day,” Sam rolled his eyes. “So she must think she’s ahead of the game.” He followed his brothers onto the stage, taking place at his microphone as a roadie handed him his guitar.

“Who knows, maybe we’ll even be opening for her.” Jake joked into his mic, making the other men laugh. That was the last they had spoken of it, and the last Sam thought of Brandy Lawson for a very long while.

Until she stormed back into his life, a new name, a new band, and fiery attitude. 

🎶 🎶 🎶

“Los Angeles are you ready for a night of love and rock and roll?!” the crowd in the Troubadour roared. “My name is Harlow, and with me are the Blue Jean Babies. And we’re here tonight to make sweet love to you through music and leave you wanting more.” a few wolf whistles echoed through the room as Harlow gripped her microphone stand, bringing her body towards it. The bell sleeves of her dress fell back towards her elbows and she shook her shaggy bangs out of her face, licking her lips before beginning to sing.

“It’s a little crowded tonight.” Jake groaned, worming his way through the crowd to the bar, nodding at a few people who recognized him.

“You were the one who wanted to come.” Sam laughed back, finally resting against the sticky bar as his brother ordered them beers.

“Yeah, well I heard this band is really something.” Jake turned, handing a tepid, sweating amber bottle to his younger brother. “They’ve been blowing up the charts, and the label is thinking of having them on tour with us.”

“You mean the tour we’re about to go on in a little less than a month?” Sam was wide-eyed. “Who dropped out?”

“I guess one of the openers, one of their wives just had a baby and she’s threatening divorce if he doesn’t stay home with them since he was gone most of the pregnancy.” Jake shrugged. “It’s bullshit, but if you love the woman you do what you have to.”

“Happy wife, happy life and all that, yeah?” Sam chuckled as he took a sip of his own beer. He could never imagine himself kowtowing to anyone like that. No one was going to keep him from being on the road and living out his dream. If he was going to be with someone, they had to understand that music was the most important thing to him.

“More like he’ll have to pay out the ass in spousal and child support.” Jake rolled his eyes. Sam laughed loudly before having a few dirty looks thrown his way for interrupting the show. He smiled sheepishly and put a finger to his lips, promising to keep quiet with a wink. He turned his attention to the stage, allowing himself to focus on the music. 

The woman singing was vaguely familiar, he’d probably seen her out and about in the LA scene. It was a small circle, no matter how many new faces moved to the city of Angels, so he was sure he’d met her at some party somewhere. Maybe they’d shared a joint or a bump. Maybe a beer. 

“She’s pretty good, huh?” Jake leaned over to Sam, yelling over the music. 

“Yeah, she’s all right.” Sam sniffed. He watched the singer on stage as she danced around, singing and banging a tambourine against the heel of her hand. Her hair flew around her wildly as she spun, and Sam couldn’t help to smirk at her free movements, they reminded him of his eldest brother in a way, and how he would move on stage during Jake’s guitar solos. “I think they’d fit in nicely as openers.”

“Yeah?” Jake quirked an eyebrow over at Sam, watching his eyes carefully. The singer was now leaning down, smiling as she interacted with concert-goers. She had a wrist laden with bangles and beaded bracelets, and Jake caught the small smirk on Sam’s face as he watched the singer slip a few off and put them over the hand of a fan who was reaching out before standing back up and continuing the show. When the band left the stage, Jake patted Sam on the shoulder, and they moved to go backstage.

As they approached the green room, they heard loud laughter, the clinking of bottles and energetic talking between bandmates, and Sam felt the energy inside him prick up. There was something so contagious about a post-show high, and he could tell Jake was feeling it too as they rounded the corner into the room. It took a few minutes of the chaos to settle down as they joined the party, and someone stopped to notice them.

“Woah,” a young man stopped when he saw Jake and Sam, his lips still glistening from the pull from the bottle of Jack Daniels he held in his hand. His mustache was barely grown in enough to collect any droplets and he wiped the back of his hand across his mouth as he stared in awe. “You’re…you’re Jake and Sam Kiskza.”

“Yeah, we are.” Jake chuckled, reaching a hand out. The young man switched the booze to his other hand and shook Jake’s outstretched hand, before shaking Sam’s as well. “We came out to see the show, you guys are good.”

“No shit!” the man grinned. “I’m Billy, I’m the guitarist. It’s an honor to meet you guys, I’ve looked up to your guitar playing since I heard your first record.”

“Appreciate that, man.” Jake grinned. “Are the rest of your bandmates here?”

“Yeah!” Billy turned, putting his hand on another man’s shoulder and getting his attention, whispering to him before gathering a few others around. “Where’s Harlow?”

“I’m right here.” they turned around again, and parted, making room for the leading lady of the night to join. It took him a few moments, but up close, all it took was a few moments, and the glimmer of gold in those hazel eyes for him to fully recognize her. His memory pulled up the scene in a parking lot where he’d essentially told her she was a talentless hack. “Hello boys.”

“Hi, I’m Jake,” Jake reached out his hand to her with a smile. She took it gently, squeezing his fingertips and holding his hand in hers for a few moments, telling him how nice it was to meet him before letting go. She turned to Sam, a smirk tugging at the corner of her smile. 

“And, you are?” Sam felt his cheeks prickle with heat flushed with embarrassment that she would pretend she had no clue who he was in front of everyone, in front of his own brother. All the while her eyes glimmered with recognition. He swallowed down his pride and put on a smile, taking her hand and instead of letting her feel like she had control like she did with Jake’s, as she squeezed his fingertips he brought the back of her hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to it as he kept eye contact, smiling as he lowered her hand. Her eyes narrowed slightly and he felt his chest swell at her reaction.

“Samuel.” he replied. “But you can call me Sam.” he tossed in a wink for good effort, her cheeks turning pink from it.

“Well, to what do we owe the honor of a visit from you both?” Harlow tore her eyes from Sam, glancing back to Jake. 

“We just wanted to come check out the potential new openers for our next tour.” Jake grinned. It took a moment for what he said to sink in, and the band began jumping around excited.

“What, for real?!” Billy exclaimed, and Jake nodded. 

“We don’t know for sure, but they told us you guys were in the running, and we thought it’d be a good idea to check you guys out when we saw you were playing tonight.” Sam offered. 

“It was a really good show,” Jake chimed in, smiling. “Reminded me a bit of us when we were first getting crowd attention, feeding off of it. I’m definitely putting my name behind you guys for our openers.”

“And what about you, Sam?” Harlow’s gaze was back to him, the question leaving her lips and cutting through to him sharply. “Did you like the show?”

“It was very entertaining.” Sam replied coolly to her challenge. “You guys are up on my list, for sure.” Harlow kept her eyes on him as the rest of the Blue Jean Babies celebrated behind her. After a few moments more, they were called to their bus to start the next leg of their journey to the next city, and had to begin packing up. 

“It was great to meet you all, hopefully we’ll see you soon.” Jake told them all as he and Sam headed for the door.

“Hopefully very soon.” Harlow agreed, shooting him a charming smile. “Have a good night Jake. You too, Sam.”

“Goodnight, Harlow.” Sam replied, meeting her eyes one more time before wishing everyone else a goodnight too. 

“I really liked them.” Jake turned to Sam as they walked out of the building. Most of the concert-goers had left, only a few stragglers smoking or drinking at their cars. “They seem really cool and they genuinely are excited about music.”

“Yeah, they’re pretty cool.” Jake smirked at Sam’s blaise response. 

“You seemed to have a connection with that Harlow chick.” Jake nudged his little brother in the ribs with his own elbow. “Are we going to have to worry about some hanky-panky if we bring them on tour?”

“Not at all,” Sam rolled his eyes. “If anything, she has an attitude that’s annoying to me.”

“Well, if they come on tour with us, maybe it’ll humble her a little bit.” Jake shrugged, getting into his car. Sam climbed into the passenger seat, thinking of all the ways he could humble Brandy “Harlow” Lawson.

Taglist: @joshsindigostreak @ascendingtostardust @sammysprincess @sammykiszkamyass @belovedsamuel @sunfl0wer-power @indigo-starcatcher @sammyscherub @earthlysorrows @lvnterninthenight @allieisacrybaby @losfacedevil @xserenax-13 @sarakay-gvf @shutupdevvie @myownparadise96 @watchingovergvff @gretavanfleetposts @sacredthefran @josiee-gvf @joshkiszkatoothgap @madneedshelp @gardensgatedaisy @kkdarling @demonrat444 @writingcold @dannyandthekiszkas @lightmylove-gvf @tearsofbri @paleshadow-ofadragon @happy-harpy-stuff @like-a-woman-in-a-dream @starshine-wagner @objectsinspvce @josh-iamyour-mama @mountain-in-springtime @cal-a-bungaa @capturethechaos @jankandjonch @gvfpal @allybjt @hippievanfleet @weightofbrokenbells @joshkiszkasbadussy @malany-gvf @ruby0antlers @samofthedawn @sacredjake @aim4thedoublee @diditallforyouu @gvfmarge @highladyofasgard @sammysvanfeet @gold-mines-melting @earthgrlsreasy @mountain-in-springtime @forcebond301 @stardust-and-shadows @llightmyllovee @gretavangroupie @comesofarsomehow @starcatcherkiszka @indigofallingsky

[writersmilex]

My Only Friend

Anonymous asked:  hi smilex nice to see you again, can i ask a scenario where hank and reader knew each other before hank became well... a murderer? basically reader was hank's only friend and they were very close, over time hank begins to have a crush on reader but he couldn't confess until the fateful day came with the boombox accident and from there they parted ways but after years they meet again

___ Nice to See you too... ‘I don’t know who you are’ Here is the request, Tumblr is always screwing me over one way or other and now I can’t respond to my asks.  Here it is!

___

Hank Wimbleton X Fem | Reader

Summary: Just before the crimson skies, Hank had a friend. You were the only friend he had at the time. _____________________________________

(Art Belongs to Rightful Owner)

"It sounds like fun, you should try it." Your eyes gleam with intrigue as you point at the flyer for a volleyball tournament. Hank crosses his arms and huffs in annoyance. "I don't want to." He growls, by this time Hank's crappy moods hardly threaten you. "You want more friends, right?" You reason with the stoic man beside you. He doesn't answer and looks away from you. Yeah... He does want more friends, but he just doesn't know how. He has an intimidating stature, and stoic expression acts rather aggressively at times and making friends difficult for someone like him.

"Tell you what, we go together." You say, taking a pen from a string to write your name neatly on the flyer. "(Y/n)..." Hank tries to reason, but he knows there is no point in reasoning with you. "Fine..." He agrees and takes the pen from you to write down his own name, right under yours. You look at Hank and beam at him, the brightest gaze he has ever seen, it could blind him if your face produced light like that. "Awesome!" You laugh with glee, Hank just huffs in annoyance once again. "Whatever..." He grumbles. He feels you tug on his arm. "I'm thirsty, come on let's get a drink." You're not strong enough to pull Hank out of balance, but that will change soon as you have been working out lately. Hank follows along with everything you want to do. He has nothing better to do anyway. And you're always so hyper and like to do things that end up being very fun for him always. Even though he will never admit it out loud, he doesn't have to because you always seem to be ideally in tune with his mood every time. ~~~~ The volleyball tournament was indeed fun, doesn't matter if you were good at it or not. You personally thought you did well. You noticed Hank acting a little looser after the games, he had fun as well. If you squint you can see him smiling slightly. "See? What did I tell you?" You ask playfully, patting your friend on his arm. Hank lets out a low chuckle, "It was alright..." He replies that means he had fun. His response only makes you gleam brighter. You cheer with a little jump, "See? I knew it would be fun!" You skip alongside your stoic friend. His hands are shoved deep into his pockets, as he slanders along with whatever you want to do. You're the best at finding fun things to do in his opinion. ~~~~ Hank started to feel strange around you for reasons that are still unclear to him. Seeing you happy made him happy, he did everything just to please you, he'd even do murder for you if you asked. Anything... Anything to make you happy. That smile of yours makes his day brighter. As far as he knows his life is very mediocre, and you make it better. He wants to see you every day to bring colour to his grey world. There is a place, Hank's favourite place in the park where he can find some peace. By the tree, it is a very serene place for him, ever since he was little he went there to be alone, as none of the other kids wanted to play with him back then. He didn't have friends back then, but now he has! He has you! His best friend and his only friend. He almost feels protective of you, and you don't have any enemies whatsoever! Perhaps some people find your bright and bubbly nature annoying, but that's normal he assumes. You can't get everyone on earth to like and respect you, no matter what you do. But he likes you but isn't really sure how he could show you that. So, he's going to show you his favourite place. "Are we there yet?" You ask for the fifth time. "We're really almost there," Hank repeats for the fifth time. You don't reply this time, merely holding your own hands behind your back as you trail behind Hank. You're usually the one with the plans for fun activities, and how he's the one with an idea and you don't want to ruin this for him. So you'll go with everything he wants now, just to make your friend happy. "This is a really nice place though, very tranquil." Your comment on the grassy fields of the park, There are not as many trees around as he remembered from when he was little, but his favourite tree is still the in the same place as it should be. "The quietness helps me think," Hank explains as he comes to a stop by the tree. "I can imagine that," you reply and keep looking around the fields. The park is rather crowded today, many people around and you saw one guy in the distance walking around with a boombox. "I like to just stand here and enjoy the silence... If I can..." Hank explains as he takes a stance, crossing his arms. He gives the random guy with the boombox a side glare.  Hank never like that genre of music anyway, not to mention that it's rather distressing, such loud music in a place that's supposed to be peaceful. "I'm really thirsty, I'm getting a drink by the bakery. Do you want anything?" You ask your friend as you point in the general direction to the bakery that is right outside of the park's fields. "Just a soda." Hank requests with a dismissive wave of the hand. You nod and smile at your friend and skip off to get drinks. ~~~~ Hank waits for you to return, feeling a little tense at the loud music getting closer to him. The boombox guy is really getting on his nerves by now. Destroying his zen moment with that obnoxious music. It's clear that the boombox guy is not stopping on his own, so Hank has to do something about it himself. He walks around the tree and approaches the guy, "Hey, could you turn it down?" He asks as politely as he could. But instead is met with a rough push that causes him to stumble and lose his balance, falling on the grass. "This is a public place, I can do what I want!" The guy says matter-of-factly. Now Hank is angered enough to get physical with this guy, and he does. It was madness that day... ~~~~ Hank hasn't seen you since that fateful day with the boombox, it feels like he lost a piece of himself, which he might as well has. Nothing has been the same since that day... a day he curses still. The crimson sky doesn't change how he is feeling, as he looks over a war-torn city with very little left from the rooftop of the building where he and his comrades have taken shelter, a light breeze brushes by. But a part of him also wishes he never sees you again, you might think he's a monster. And he would agree with you if you did think that. His only friend that has been missing for what feels like years. He has kept you a secret from his comrades in the force, even Doc is not aware of your existence. Your memory is only his to cherish closely to what the last pinch of innocence remains in the endless void that he calls a heart. He still misses you so dearly, even when he can hardly remember your face. He is really conflicted about what he is feeling: He wants you back, but he doesn't. If he could meet you now, everything would change again. What if you weren't even alive? That thought saddens him. If you were out there somewhere, he hopes that you can survive. And meet him again one day. _____________________________________

There, I hope this is something that you want. It's very light-hearted, but it feels kind of bland, to be honest.

Anyway, there is nothing else much I think I could add to this.

Thanks for reading.❤️

- Smilex🙂

[zorilleerrant]

Jason was right about the school. Bruce pulled some strings and went on some whole long thing about scholarships. Not to Jason, but he can still see it in the haggard smile on the face of the woman in charge of liaising with all the educational institutions, the way she overemphasizes certain phrases like she’s repeating them word for word.

Not least of all the part where she pushes seventeen brochures into his hands and asks him, with a pained look in her eyes, if he’s thought about college, and work-study programs, and student discounts on all sorts of things. Thin lips biting back the way Bruce obviously wants desperately to pay for it all, as if he isn’t already paying Damian’s tuition out of pocket.

The scholarships are real, this just clearly isn’t one. This is someone paying too close attention to someone who should’ve slipped his view, and now Jason can’t even use his own name anymore. A Jason, sure, there are lots of them, but the one Bruce has gotten so worked up about? Best case, he’ll think Jason’s a plant by some villain who wants to throw him off his game, worst case – worst case he’ll know.

He doesn’t think he can use Peter, either. Not unless he wants to see tears pile up in the corners of Bruce’s eyes while he smiles softly and pretends they aren’t. Not that Jason’s ever gotten entirely used to that one, either, the handful of times he used it.

Fuck, it would all be so much simpler if he really were just some down on his luck single dad, going back to university to learn things he never got a chance to, never having to hide all the things he shouldn’t know. But he’s about as much Greg Cather as the guy who made the fake ID was, if you don’t count the picture. It’s not actually of Jason, but it’s close enough.

Damian can still keep his given name, at least, and Jason can be Baba all he wants, and they have, you know, the things he planned. All the things he planned. They have food, and clothes, and somewhere to stay, and Damian’s going to school soon. Everything but Jason’s rock solid plan to hole up in a safehouse and do who knows what.

Put on a mask and be Robin again. Be Batman, but better. Hell, be a supervillain, maybe, just so long as he got to dress up as someone else for a while, have an excuse to run and jump and climb and stare at the blurry stretch of Gotham under weightless apogee. Drag himself back into the moment when he could fly.

He still has weapons. He just also has Batman’s scrutiny.

There’s something almost as soothing about packing a bookbag for Damian. The bag he had, sturdy canvas dragged all the way from home, and Damian would probably throw a fit if he had to go to school without it, so just as well. Something has to be consistent in the kid’s life. But everything else is from this neat little closet, smelling like artificial flowers over industrial cleaner, someone trying to pretty up another soulless shell. But under that, he can smell the paper scent of brand new notebooks, carboard boxes and plastic discarded to the side.

Everything is new and fresh and unmarred. Jason doesn’t think Damian’s ever used a marble composition book before. He’s used a ballpoint pen, but nothing this cheap, used markers, but never the washable, nontoxic kind. The books are well below his reading level, but he hasn’t studied literature yet, doesn’t know what he’s in for, and Jason finds himself a little jealous. Back to school shopping was always his favorite, just for this, even if the charity bins look a little brighter these days. Bruce’s fault or whatever. At least he’s done something right.

Damian looks skeptical at the neatly packed bag, lighter than he’s used to hauling around, but Jason’s riding his satisfaction high, brushing out the kid’s hair and feeding him breakfast, getting him to his first day of classes on time.

Breakfast is a granola bar and an apple. Jason will go shopping after.

Damian glares at Jason for clutching his hand too tight, but they make it to school without incident, and Jason barely has to juggle pleasantries before he remembers how to sign a form, sign Damian in. Hopefully not consign him to – well, Jason went here, too, and it was bad, some days, and worse others. But Damian is starting sooner, knowing more than he did at that age, and with Jason to back him up if anything goes wrong. So.

So.

“I’ll be fine,” Damian says, with an eyeroll that doesn’t cover the tremble in his lip, but makes Jason smile all the same.

He packed Damian a lunch. It’s not a very good lunch, but it has a note in it, some aphorism he’s already forgotten, just to get the kid through the day.

“I know you will,” Jason tells him, and wonders what he’ll do the whole time Damian’s in classes. Find someplace to hide and watch the school all day, waiting for something to happen? Better at least pretend to look for a job. Better plan how to make his money look legitimate and keep the Bats off his tail.

“Be good for your teacher,” Jason says, because he knows the three people in the office with them expect to hear it, even though he’s never understood exactly what it meant. But it sounds good, fatherly, when he says it, and causes Damian to give him a serious nod.

“I’ll pay attention and take notes,” Damian says, solemnly, with the double meaning Jason can’t break him of, because he’s still convinced they’re undercover somehow. He knows they left, he knows they’re hiding, he knows all the implications of running away, it’s just that Jason can’t explain what that means about their life. What is there to compare it to?

How do you ever explain to a kid that you’ve dragged them into a world they always knew existed but never got a chance to see? How do you teach them to fit in without telling them day after day this isn’t right anymore and that isn’t how we do things and for god’s sake, Jason, you can’t pick fights at school and calm down, it’s just a test.

Damian looks over his shoulder to wave goodbye as the smiling sunshine teacher takes him by the hand, and Jason waves back, fingers stiff as he tries to look casual. It’s easy to be calm in the face of the quotidian. Everything is a test.

[asmo-cosmetics]

brothers + smoking hcs

because like, they're vices, i bet they have vices, y'know?

lucifer

genuine cuban cigars. barbatos has had them imported from the human world for him ever since diavolo found out about the habit.

he still finds it embarrassing, of course, but they are very good quality cigars. he doesn't have it in him to refuse.

he keeps two, wrapped, in the inside breast pocket of his coat. if you see him taking one from there (rather than the cigar box that sits eternally beside the gramophone in his bedroom), you know something particularly heinous just happened.

he keeps his lighter in that pocket, too. it's a zippo-style refillable, sterling silver and engraved with his name and the demon lord's crest.

another gift from diavolo. again, it's just excellent quality. the fact that it rests over his heart nearly at all times is incidental.

mammon

blacks, almost exclusively.

-- is what he says. they're menthol blacks, but he's old enough to remember when menthols were marketed primarily to women in the human world, and he's still kind of embarrassed about his "girl" cigarettes.

they're a devildom brand, but don't get it twisted, he still prefers the most expensive variety they have.

he also likes those flavored cigarillos, the cherry or honey ones, usually.

(there's also a demonus flavor in some stores. he loves those.)

leviathan

prefers weed.

is one of those guys who is really annoying about the fact that he prefers weed.

to be fair, this is probably mostly to annoy mammon.

probably has a vape pen and an online store he likes that does those dumb cartoon-themed carts but with like. nostalgic anime.

but... it's levi. so, like... bongs.

no, but it's levi, so seriously like a legit kind of impressive collection of custom bongs purchased directly from the glassblower's akuzon page.

one of them looks like ruri-hana's flower staff.

def one of those guys who can explain to you in scientific detail how all that shit works, too.

"but what's he like high" giggly. more talkative. fascinated by everything. really honest.

he'll have cigarettes sometimes. usually when he's lonely and he wants something that smells like his brothers.

satan

he grows, prepares, and blends everything he smokes himself. everything he blends smells fucking divine.

usually uses a pipe, but he has an antique hookah from the human world that he'll get out on occasion. also not opposed to rolling clove cigarettes if he finds good rolling papers.

(levi gets him those sometimes. in return for satan rolling joints for him because he can't roll for shit and satan's are always perfect.)

the pipe is a sherlock holmes replica. it was a gift from barbatos. he treasures it.

sometimes he'll infuse magic into a blend, usually for hookah sessions with other people. with satan, you can smoke a memory, or the sound of a string quartet, or an entire ballet.

but usually, it's just a taste to fit the book he's reading. some go best with an apple cider feel, you know?

asmodeus

he used to get those little disposable vapes all the time, but eventually levi felt bad and helped him pick out a permanent one.

his juice is like. all fruit and sweets and candy flavors. he has one that tastes like vanilla cupcakes that everyone likes the smell of.

also maybe this is kind of a pull but you know that brand black devil? that makes the strawberry cigarettes with the pink paper? yeah.

looong black audrey hepburn cigarette holder. he has a little collection, actually, because, well, they're accessories, but the black one is his favorite. it's elegant and cool and looks sexy in pictures.

beelzebub & belphegor

beel doesn't really smoke unless belphie's smoking, and belphie usually just steals from his brothers.

he has a brand of reds he likes but he mostly relies on someone else picking them up for him because he is Too Lazy to go to the store.

beel actually likes the taste of asmo's best, but the reds are still his favorite because they smell/taste the most like belphie.

belphie's favorite are actually a blend satan makes and rolls for him to help him sleep.