#some guy on a bicycle pulled up to me & started showing me a video of this range rover literally FLOATING through an underpass

[bibleofficial]

fucking everywhere is flooding in cardiff i had to literally HOP THE STONE WALL surrounding my accom to GET INTO the property 😭😭😭

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 300: Days of Our Todorokis

Previously on BnHA: Hawks was all “hey Jeanist, wanna go on a road trip with me to my mom’s house?” Jeanist was all “you know it,” and so they hopped into Jeanist’s jercedes and took off. Hawks took a nap and had a flashback to his Dickensian childhood living in a abject poverty with his jerk mom and jerk dad, thinking heroes were make-believe until one day Endeavor arrested his dad and Baby Hawks was all “OH SHIT.” And then he saved a bunch of people, and the HPSC was all “what do we have here,” and blah blah blah, you know the rest. Back in the present, Hawks was all “well my life is currently in shambles, but on the plus side there’s no one bossing me around anymore so that’s pretty cool,” and then decided he was going to talk to Endeavor. Fandom was all “I can’t believe Hawks would side with his childhood hero over the man who burned his wings off and posted a video calling him a violent murderer who took after his abusive dad,” so that was fun and stuff. I can’t wait to see what piping fresh takes this new chapter will bring.

Today on BnHA: Our old friend Carbonation Carl tries to loot a Starbucks and gets his ass kicked by a senior citizen. Society is all “YEAH, WE’RE REALLY STARTING TO GET SICK OF THIS SHIT.” Old Man Samurai is all “this room won’t stop me because I can’t read it” and abruptly decides to retire, which, fun fact, is literally THE LEAST HELPFUL THING ANYONE HAS EVER DONE. Anyway so then a bunch of other punkasses follow suit, and while I won’t say that I’m actually starting to root for Stain to kill some peeps, just for the record I’m not not saying that either. Back in the hospital, Endeavor cries some tears because his life sucks, and then is confronted by his entire family, LED BY QUEEN REI, FIRST OF HER NAME, BACK IN BUSINESS AND LARGE AND IN CHARGE. Rei is all “fuck feeling sorry for yourself, we have a rogue Murder Son on the loose” and I swear to god I have never felt so alive.

so here we go! and just for the record, even though the last two chapters have been phenomenal, I don’t necessarily have any sky-high expectations for chapter 300, mostly because chapters 100 and 200 consisted of Mei Boobs, and Toadette and her horrific quirk lmao. so go ahead Horikoshi, what are you gonna pull out of your hat for this one

oh, back to this stuff again. sob

I guess there was only so much time we could spend having hospital antics and exploring Hawks’s past before we got back to dealing with the whole “the world has gone to absolute shit” issue huh, lol

omg

what’s with these bizarrely cute Noumus. why do I want to pet them

so the narrative text is going on about how people have been super paranoid about the Noumu ever since the USJ incident a year ago. so yeah, I guess the fact that there are now a bunch of them confirmed to be running around is really freaking people out even on top of everything else

wtf is happening here

what did this poor lil glass ever do to anyone. r.i.p.

OH MY FUCKING GOD

SODA SAM IS BACK ON THE LAM

tsk tsk tsk. my man has graduated from snatching purses to raiding cafes. going after that big money. this man has no business sense whatsoever lmao

OH BUT WATCH IT NOW!!

OH SNAP THE PEOPLE ARE FIGHTING BACK. WHATCHA GONNA DO NOW SAM

THIS MAN IS 172 YEARS OLD AND HE’S NOT HERE TO PLAY GAMES!!

WTF IS HE LIGHTING THIS THING ON FIRE OR SOME SHIT. GETTEM GRANDPA YEAHHHH HE’S CHARGING AT EM YEAHHHHHH

lmao so that was fun. and now we’re cutting to Wash!! omg. look at him

he’s so dedicated. too bad you don’t have a car like Best Jeanist. probably takes a while when you’re just running everywhere

you see?? you were too slow!!

NOOOO, GRANDPA. he defeated Pepsi Pete, but lost his life in the process. this is too tragic

anyway so the good news is that the cafe has been saved! but the bad news is, there really isn’t much of a cafe left. huh. I guess that’s one of the reasons why people are supposed to get a license to use their quirks like this

oh snap and now everyone is coming outside, and they’re none too happy to see poor old Wash over here

seriously Wash, get a bicycle or something. also the way this guy is gesturing so dramatically with his hand in this sort of “YOU SEE!! YOU SEE WHAT HAPPENS!!” manner is sending me

OH MY GOD

HE SPEAKS. DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS. IT MEANS JEANS PUNS ARE YESTERDAY’S NEWS, FOLKS!! MAKE WAY FOR THE LAUNDRY PUNS. CAN’T WAIT TO WATCH THIS ALL... UNFOLD

“the heroes had dwindled away” okay real talk you guys, it is literally only a matter of time before they press-gang the children into picking up their slack. I still don’t know how to feel about that, but it is happening one way or the other regardless. Child Soldiers 2 Electric Boogaloo. wonder if we’ll see a rise in vigilante action as well

OHO WHAT’S THIS? THIS IS A CHAPTER OF GRANDPAS HUH

-- no fucking way

WOW. WOW. WOWWWWWW

wow. so he didn’t do a fucking thing while the rest of the top ten were being turned into red mist in the previous arc, and now that it’s all over and they need his help more than ever, he decides... THAT IT’S TIME TO RETIRE. holy shit. “fuck you” doesn’t even begin to cover it my guy. you stand there and soak up those boos you coward

ohhhhhhh shiiiiit you guys. oh shit

the “I am not here” breaks my fucking heart for real though y’all. oh man. everything he worked for is gone just like that

(ETA: okay so a couple of the takes I’ve seen on this make it seem like All Might is somehow the bad guy here?? “this is what happens when society puts a bunch of glorified cops on a pedestal”, “finally the cracks in hero society are showing”, etc. etc. so, just a friendly reminder that this isn’t happening because of too much trust and a lack of critical thinking; this is happening because the villains killed all the heroes and broke a bunch of murderers out of jail. it’s happening because an organized league of terrorists succeeded in terrorizing, and so society is now understandably awash in fear and panic. like, it’s just wild to me that AFO is RIGHT FUCKING THERE, and yet week after week fandom still has their “IT’S ALL THE HEROES’ FAULT” signs still up on their lawns. BUT WHATEVER, MOVING ON.)

also though, so exactly how much time is passing here now? I wanted to go straight back to the hospital and see what happens with Deku and the Todorokis. please don’t tell me we’re jumping ahead sob. my aaaaangst

OH SHIT

STAIN. LISTEN UP BUDDY. I KNOW WE’VE HAD OUR DIFFERENCES, AND I STILL DESPISE YOU FOR CRIPPLING TENSEI AND TRYING TO KILL MY BEST BOY TENYA. BUT AS IT HAPPENS, THERE ARE ONE OR TWO OTHER HEROES OUT THERE NOW WHO I WOULDN’T MIND YOU PAYING A VISIT I’M JUST SAYING

LOL BUT IT ACTUALLY ISN’T THIS MAN, FFFFFF

sob. yeah I was talking about Old Man Samurai actually but YEAH. HEY THERE ENJI

also is this entire hospital actually run by characters from Super Mario Bros though. first Yoshi and now this guy, come the fuck on that is not a coincidence

lmao they stuck him in another one of these cavernous creepy hospital rooms

wtf is it with Horikoshi and these giant fucking rooms lately. Kacchan’s in chapter 298, then Tomie’s colossal house furnished with like one table and a TV, and now this. and the weirdest thing about it though is that “huge space with nothing to fill it up” is like the exact opposite of what you’ll usually find in Japanese homes lol

so now Enji is just sitting there thinking things like “my head is fuzzy” and “I’m alive” lmao okay. not quite all there yet, huh. I’ll give you a minute

I’m so fucking curious as to who his first visitor is going to be omg. either way it’s going to be interesting af, and either way fandom is probably going to feel some way about it but OH WELL

okay now his thoughts are getting more coherent! and he’s remembering Touya, and feeling regret for freezing up and forcing Shouto to deal with everything instead

!!! OH HERE GOES BRACE YOURSELVES Y’ALL IT’S ABOUT TO GET SPICY

NO TOUYA PLEASE DON’T CRY HONEY NO PLEASE

ohhhhhhh man

okay, I mean I didn’t expect you to, but so instead then you’re just going to do... what? lie there and wallow in regret and self-pity for the rest of your life? son you know that’s not how we deal with our problems here in Shounen

though also, I totally do get it though. honestly, thinking on it, I probably would have been disappointed with any other response. but so this is where the rest of his family (including his adopted son) come into play now though, because like it or not they’re all in this thing together. and so friends, I am once again asking you WHO IS GOING TO BE THE ONE TO VISIT ENJI FIRST

AHHHHHHH

KRANCH!!!! OMG AND THE OTHERS ARE SO TINY NEXT TO HIM THAT I ALMOST DIDN’T SEE THEM AT FIRST. IT’S BECAUSE THEY’RE TWENTY MILES AWAY ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THIS REGULATION HOCKEY RINK OF A ROOM

holy shit I’m so excited lkjlklhlglkasdsjldfk

SDKFJLSKHLKJL

the way she has him by his collar lmaoooo. “lol nah you’re not going anywhere pal.” damn straight, siblings have to be ride or die in situations like this. banding together for survival. strength in numbers

OH MY STARS I’M JUST WARNING YOU NOW THAT I’M ABOUT TO DISSECT EVERY LAST REMAINING PANEL OF THIS CHAPTER PROBABLY YOU GUYS. WE COULD BE HERE A WHILE

love how Fuyu has absolutely no idea how to segue into THE SINGLE MOST AWKWARD CONVERSATION SHE’S EVER HAD, so she just GOES FOR IT in pure small talk mode like they’re meeting up for brunch somewhere

I KNOW IT’S A SMALL THING, BUT I APPRECIATE THAT THE FIRST THING ENJI ASKS IS WHETHER THEY’RE OKAY

lastly while I can’t wait for more of this delicious Natsu angst, I also just have to say that Enji has as much reason to cry right now as anyone on the planet. you can’t deny that being confronted by your not-dead-but-you-thought-he-was-dead son who’s all “SURPRISE DAD I GREW UP TO BE A MASS MURDERER AND I HATE YOU AND EVERYTHING IS ALL YOUR FAULT AND NOW I’M GONNA MAIM YOUR OTHER KID” with a side order of “EVERYONE HATES YOU AND SOCIETY IS CRUMBLING AND NOTHING WILL EVER BE GOOD EVER AGAIN” is enough to bum pretty much anyone out. there’s a Pagliacci the Clown joke here somewhere. BUT DOCTOR, I AM THE NUMBER ONE HERO

oh man lol he is seriously falling apart

damn. like you guys, I’m sorry, go ahead and cancel me, but I do feel compassion for the man. it’s therapeutic for me to see an abuser actually feel remorse and be truly sorry and want to change and want to make it up to his family. and it’s also compelling as fuck to read a narrative about a family that’s trying to grapple with that, because let me tell you straight up, as someone who’s done a version of that song and dance -- it is exhausting. it is a piping hot mess. it’s a gigantic mishmosh of extremely volatile emotions that all somehow all contradict one another. love, hurt, hope, anger, betrayal, resentment, attachment, longing. it’s something you can both be desperate for and also want nothing at all to do with. and attempting to portray all of that and write about it is a monumental task, and one which Horikoshi has done so, so delicately thus far, and damn but I appreciate it. anyway, so I’m here and I’m ready for my latest helping of Todoroki Fam Feels you guys

GASP

oh man. OHMANOHMANOHMAN. CAN IT REALLY BE. IS THIS THE REDEMPTION ARC OF CHAPTERS 100 AND 200???

LMAO SHE’S ALL “WE ALL FEEL BAD YOU JACKASS STOP CRYING ABOUT IT”

LAY INTO HIM REI!! SORRY ENJI YOUR PITY PARTY HAS BEEN CANCELLED IN FAVOR OF A “SO WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU GONNA DO ABOUT IT” PARTY COURTESY OF QUEEN ELSA OVER HERE. THE PEOPLE TOOK A VOTE AND WE WANT LESS WHINING AND MORE ACTION

oh my god look at this lady folks

NOTE THE HAIR BLOWING IN THE NONEXISTENT WIND. NOW WE KNOW WHERE SHOUTO GOT THIS POWER FROM

(ETA: btw guys, seeing Rei handle this crisis like an absolute champ despite everything she’s been through is everything, though. I’m reminded of Hawks’s line last week about people sometimes unexpectedly finding liberation when they’re backed into a corner. like things may be shit but goddammit her kiddos need her.)

THE CHAPTER IS ALREADY ENDING SOB, IT’S ONLY A 17-PAGER THIS WEEK, BUT GODDAMN WHAT A WAY TO CLOSE

oh my god. oh my god oh my god. AND FUCK YOU HORIKOSHI FOR CUTTING IT OFF THERE sob. it’s like each week the wait for the next chapter becomes more painful. the Todofam is about to get real, and on top of that Hawks is gonna crash the party at some point down the line, and on top of that we’re still waiting for Kacchan to have his own heartfelt discussion about What The Fuck Are We Supposed To Do Next with his best friend who’s currently in a coma. all I want to do with my life is read about these three things, and all I can do is simply wait as they are portioned out in agonizing, addicting little installments every week

anyway! tune in next time as we answer the question of whether or not fandom will finally run its train of logic all the way through to its natural conclusion and somehow manage to cancel Noted Abuse Apologist Todoroki Fucking Rei. don’t act like it can’t happen. you all know nothing is sacred lol. anyways but I’m ready for anything lol, bring it

[detectivemarvelingcomics]

Could you do some hcs for dating the teen titans?

Yes I can!! I just got HBO Max so I’ve been binging both the animated and the live action series haha 😂 Thank you so much for being my first request!

Also I’m guessing you’re referring to the original teen titans, so if you want the new teen titans just shoot me another request!

Dating the Teen Titans Would Include...

No Specified AU

TW: Language

Genre: Fluff

[DC Masterlist]

Word Count: 2.0K (About 0.2K per Titan)

Dick Grayson

You must have an insane amount of patience, truly, to be able to date Dick Grayson

If the joke book he probably carries around isn’t enough, I would’ve been certain that the ego would drive you away but nope you’re still here

And that’s how you both knew that it was true fucking love you’re both inseparable and the Titans know it.

To put things simply... he loves you and the Titans fear you.

While you’re both somewhat easygoing and hospitable, one would do well not to piss off one or the other because you both come as a package deal and you can kick ass when necessary you just choose not to embarrass Dick like that because you could totally outmatch him.

Don’t ask him that though he’d insist that he’d win.

Best not bring up the first time you met or else the Titans would never let him live it down

But in all seriousness, I see the relationship as rather lighthearted and enjoyable, maybe a bit spontaneous too. Want to go to the beach? Done. Want to kick some ass in Gotham? For sure. It’s like a match made in heaven.

Not to mention that the Titans rather look up to you, which is a definite plus. Not just anyone can date the Dick Grayson.

Wally West

As opposed to popular opinion... I’d think that this is a rather slow relationship. 

Speedsters are more than just familiar with how life just flashes by so I think Wally would like to enjoy the relationship at a slower pace, he wants it to last as long as possible.

With that said, you’re both menaces. His speed combined with your cleverness? No one is safe and the Titans know it.

The best moment of your relationship, although this is debatable, was when you and Wally successfully turned the Titan tower into an all-out prank minefield. Trash cans were covered with plastic, buckets of water places on doorways, even wardrobes were switched.

And all done in ten seconds, impressive. Nothing quite like starting a war in the Tower then grabbing burgers after, right?

Kind of cheesy but I can see you both having frequent movie nights that differ in genre according to month. You both probably rotate on who chooses the movie too.

Overall I think you both have a lot of fun together, if I were to compare the “vibes” to something, I would say a summer relationship (that obviously lasts longer than just a summer) where everything is just living life as it goes

Nah because like I said before you guys don’t want to rush things, and you’re always there to remind Wally to just slow down every now and then.

I should probably mention that this is a competitive relationship too, before I go, not everything’s a competition but everything’s a competition, you know? It’s a shame that the Titans often get caught in the cross fire though-

Donna Troy

Oh this one’s fun. Donna’s new to this whole “rest of the world” stuff but luckily she has a wonderful partner who’s willing to teach her everything.

A lot of the relationship consists of you explaining things, but it’s kind of endearing despite Donna’s headstrong attitude towards anything

But Donna is also the kind to be open to learning new things, and you’re open to trying new things. It works like clockwork, you’re both young and willing.

Now these “things” can range from baking cookies to extreme mountain climbing so be prepared for anything in this relationship.

Overall I think the Titans see you both as a really cute relationship, one that anyone could be slightly envious of and one that they’re glad that exists

But despite this loving relationship I think you’d both be absolute machines in a battle, I think one thing that is important to Donna is ultimately respect for each other’s abilities, having grown up on Themyscira and all, and maybe that one battle where you absolutely demolished the enemy was when she really caught interest.

Or not. It could’ve also been when you mistakenly ran into one of the glass walls in the tower and she developed a crush over you while you mumbled a series of curses.

This relationship is strongly built on loyalty, so I think you both would be describes as a pair of ride-or-dies who typically tend to lean towards the latter, especially when trying the more extreme things that Donna asked you about.

But overall I think it’s a really sweet relationship with few bumps, they’re still there but I mean that you’re both good at working through them.

Victor Stone

I feel like this relationship is very classical high school romance, you know?

Like walking to class together, holding each other’s books, stuff like that.

But on the other hand I feel like you’re both a very fun couple to be around, like you know how when you’re with some couples it feels like you’re third wheeling? Not these two. You feel like you’re part of the crew

You guys probably switch between fun couple and parent couple every now and then, I can see the Titans relying on both of you a lot for different things.

You and Victor are definitely the type to play games to determine who buys food, like things as simple as rock-paper-scissors to things as complicated as 8-Ball, and so far you’ve been winning at a ratio of 3:1.

Definitely a very trusting relationship, I feel like you both reach that comfortable stage faster than most, but it feels right, you know? I think you’d both understand that relationships go both ways.

There are probably times where you’re both in a teasing mode too, I think, but they’re mostly light hearted pranks, definitely not anything in the realm of what Wally would do

I kinda want to say that you’re a very active couple in that you both like to go to the gym together and idk take hikes together but at the same time I also want to say that you’re both inclined to stay home and play video games so I guess it’s like a 50/50

I can also see Victor being the type to do small acts of generosity as opposed to like buying gifts to show his appreciation for you, like I feel like he’s more inclined to help you with small tasks when he knows you need it, you know? Overall very cute, hehe

Raven (Rachel Roth)

Now this one’s interesting, you and Raven are certainly an interesting duo, but the most interesting thing would likely be how you met. Let’s say it involved a blood sacrifice, a bat, and a very old bicycle.

No you weren’t trying to summon her someone else was you just ended up being at the wrong place at the wrong time anyway moving on

You’re both the perfect example of opposites attract for more reasons than just one. 

But what makes it better is that you’re always open and willing to learn and understand many of the things that Raven does and she appreciates it a lot

It goes both ways also! She’s always willing to do whatever you ask her to and you both end up having at least some fun even if it happens to be something she isn’t used to.

Random, but I think a favorite pass time for both of you is simply sitting in her room and reading books, weird, I know, but like there’s something inherently romantic about either of you excitedly showing the other a certain passage you both enjoyed or telling them about your book, it’s just so sweet.

She definitely has a personal bias towards you, obviously, Garfield can say a joke and she’d stare at him with a straight face but you could say the exact same joke probably right after him and she would crack a smile and she probably does that on purpose but it still feels nice

You also may or may not have caught on to her incantations and now you may or may not be able to perform these spells but you haven’t tried because you wouldn’t know how to but it’s just telling of how much time you spent together.

I only mention this because there was an event in which you corrected her incantation and suddenly hell fire appeared which she had to figure out how to get rid of and since then you both mutually agreed to both (a) not tell the Titans and (b) not say incantations out loud

Koriand��r (Starfire)

STOP YOU GUYS ARE SO CUTE anyway you’re definitely both kinds to see beauty in everything

Maybe this relationship is rather dangerous considering you’re both curious people and Kori happens to be able to shoot lasers out of her eyes so maybe you should both be just a little more careful

You’re both probably very doting on both each other and the rest of the Titans and although you’re both well intentioned it has become a case of “oh no there’s two of them” but in like a teasing way

I feel like Kori is very open to sharing a lot of aspects about her culture with you, and you have always found Tamaran culture to be beautiful so it fits

Likewise you share a lot of things about your culture too and you both bond over finding ways to combine them together to make a nice fusion of understandings and it’s all a sweet combination

See a big thing about this relationship if that you both put your everything into it, it is an equal push and equal pull kind of thing where you both love each other with everything that you have and it creates this unbreakable bond that even non-supers have come to acknowledge

Though this also results in the both of you frequently being in your own world even when others are around and that’s something you both promised to fix but yeah...

It’s coming around, don’t worry. You’re both making active efforts but sometimes it just slips your mind and whoops

Now this should go without saying but this trust often leads to powerful combinations when in missions, you’re both fiercely loyal to each other and this often plays in overall favor so all is well

Garfield Logan

This is a fun relationship, definitely, and one that’s also very fulfilling.

You’re both definitely an outdoorsy couple, things like hikes, nature walks (which I guess is also a hike but I’ve been told otherwise), trips to the zoo, etc. but this all just builds the relationship

Also a very sweet one! You both have an unlimited amount of energy and love that you’re often expending said energy volunteering somewhere and helping others out

But when it boils down you’re both also very touchy, I think, you both like being together at all times and cuddles are a frequent occurrence but at the will of the other Titans you both do this in privacy

I also feel like this sweetness can also “flip,” so to say. As in if someone messes with either of you in the relationship the other will come running regardless of whether or not they could do anything about it.

To put it short, you both have each other’s back all the time. Literally, like I said you’re both inseparable. 

Despite these I think the relationship would actually be rather lowkey, I don’t think he would be the type to constantly showcase the relationship. I think he’d mention it like once to get it out there but after that he wouldn’t flaunt you around.

I just think that Garfield, even with his usual out and about behavior, is rather modest when it comes to this topic because you’re more to him than just someone to show off, you’re someone who’s important to him and overall he just wants you to be comfortable

If there’s one flaw in this relationship it’s that when you have arguments it’s just horrible, but also rather comedic. Neither of you talk to the other but you both end up still being in the same room together subconsciously. It’s kind of awkward but the coincidences are what makes the other Titans laugh and honestly you both make up within, like, a day or something.

[lilred8220]

TIME FOR ANOTHER STORY THAT NO ONE ASKED FOR! I was gonna wait for Lucifer's and Satan's song and audio log to come out buuuuut, this has brewing in my head for too long and I NEED to share. So, enjoy!

Details Matter

After coming back to the Devildom to surprise her favorite brothers at a party Diavolo invited her to, they turn around and surprise her with a gift.

"Awww, guys, you didn't have to get me anything!"  Maya says, hesitantly taking the sparkly gift bag, something Asmo must have put together. "I mean, I came to surprise you guys after all!"

"Not at all, cutie~! We just wanted to give you something so you wouldn't feel so lonely when you're up in the human realm." Asmo puts his arms around her, giving her a tight hug before looking at her again. "Just so you know, this was MY idea so, don't feel shy to give me a thank you kiss~" He quickly adds on with a wink. 

"Oi! Don't even think about it! Ya know what? Shoo, go away!“ Mammon yells out.

Maya chuckles at the comment, seeing Mammon quick to pull Asmo a couple steps away from her. She carefully opens the bag and took out the tissue paper to see a cute little light purple sheep plush with a gold bow and a bell on it. She takes the stuffed toy out with a big smile on her face. 

"Awww, how cuuuuute!" Maya says, her voice slightly pitched higher than normal. 

Beel gives a big smile, "I'm glad you like it."

“I knew she would!“ Asmo states in a "Matter of fact" tone. 

"It's not a surprise, it's soft and fluffy. It'll be good to use as a pillow when you take a nap." Belphie says, holding his own signature pillow close to him.

Satan chuckles, "You know, seeing you with that toy, it kinda reminds me of you." The brothers all nod in agreement. 

"Buuuuut~! That's not all it does!“ Asmo chimes back in. "If you squeeze the sheep, it'll play a recorded message from each of us!“ 

"A message from each of you?“ She looked at all the brothers in confusion. 

"Yes, I believe each of us had recorded something for you." Lucifer says with a smile on his face. 

Mammon beams with his usual confident smile, "Yeah, ya better be grateful that THE great Mammon was willing to do this for ya."

Maya smiles brightly at Mammon, "I am. Thank you so much!“ Mammon's face glows a bright red and turns away from her to clear his throat. 

Asmo rolled his eyes, "Go on! Give it a squeeze!" Asmo basically sings, bouncing from excitement. 

Mammon faces towards Asmo, "huh!?“

"Y-you mean you w-want her to listen to it n-now?!" Levi added in, his face turning red. 

Maya looks at the sheep for a moment before giving it a big squeeze. 

Lonely? Don't worry. Because no matter how far apart we are, we're always connected, like a tough bicycle chain. So, you're never alone if you just remember our love bicycle chain!

A…love bicycle chain? Maya thinks to herself and giggles.

"That was cute, Asmo!” Maya smiles. 

"Oh, thank you, darling~!" Asmo blows her a kiss. "Just squeeze it again to hear the next message!“

"S-s-she gonna l-listen to all of the messages now?!" Levi stutters, covering his face with his arm. 

Maya gives the red tomato that is Levi a small smile, "If you don't want me to, I'll listen to it later." 

Levi stands there for a minute before shaking his head, "N-no, it's o-ok. I doubt you'd w-want to listen to a shut-in h-has to say but, I…I don't mind."

Maya sighs at Levi talking down about himself then gives the plush a squeeze. 

Do you remember what Ruri-chan said when her best friend Azuki-tan set off to look for Cream, the king of transfer students, to become a cream herself but ultimately returned home without finding him? She said, "You didn't become the cream you wanted to become, but you shed tears for me, adding a hint of salt to your already sweet center, making you more delicious than ever. Isn't that just precious?! I bawled my eyes out! I know that right now, our tears are just making us tastier too! We can get through this! Just remember what Taichi-senpai said, "Believe in your fillings!"

Maya smiles, a giggle escapes her lips. Levi seems to slightly gain some confidence by her positive reaction.

"Thank you, Levi. That was sweet." Maya holds the plush close to herself. 

She actually understood that. All the brothers seem to think at the same time. 

"Well, you can just skip Mammon's message. You won't like what he said." Asmo leans towards Maya, not so subtly telling her. 

"OI! What's that suppose to mean!?“ Mammon calls out, walking up to Asmo. 

"Well, it's true!" Asmo retorts. 

Maya sighs, "Asmo, I'm sure what he said is fine."

Asmo crosses his arms, "But it isn't FINE! I was there! Ugh, if you HAVE to listen to his message, make him go last. It's what he deserves." Asmo quickly squeezes the sheep twice, skipping over Mammon's message. 

"OI! Why'd you do that for…" Mammon yelled out, grumbling soon after words. 

Maya sighs then takes the time to listen to everyone else's message, thanking them accordingly and finally cycles back to Asmo's. Then finally goes to listen to Mammon's. 

"Just don't say I didn't warn yoooou." Asmo sighs, giving her a pout. 

Maya rolls her eyes then finally gives the sheep another squeeze. 

I-It's... Mostly the same here. It's... Seriously... So fun without ya. You could never come back... And I'd totes be fine. 

Maya's eyebrows furrowed listening to the message. Earning Mammon a big slap on the back of his head from Lucifer. Mammon winces, sucking air through his teeth.

#DetailsMatter

Suddenly, Maya's eyebrows shoot up, her eyes widen a bit. A pleasant memory coming to mind. 

--

"Oh, come oooooon! How could you not find this so cool!" Maya says to Mammon. 

They were relaxing in Maya's room on her bed. Both of them scrolling on their D.D.D. and Maya is showing Mammon the #DetailsMatter trend.

"Yeah, if yer a nerd maybe." Mammon shrugged. 

"Well, call me a nerd all you want then! It's just cool having to find secret messages in these pictures. Like this one! Every letter that's capitalized spells out something! See!" Maya holds out her D.D.D. to Mammon. 

He sighs and takes the D.D.D. from her. The picture's text seems to be about a girl having a bad day however, the hidden message spells out, "I hope you have a lovely day cutie“ Mammon's face lights up a bit, making Maya giggle. 

"Just saying, I think it's cool…Ohhhh, wait, there was this other one the was pretty cool too!" Maya quickly grabs her D.D.D. and starts searching for what she had in mind. 

Mammon chuckles, watching her lovingly as she was very excited to show him what she was talking about.

"Ugggggh, I can't find it!" Maya groans, "It's this video and the first letter in every sentence spells out something and I wanted to show you-!" Maya's eyes widen from an idea that comes to mind. "OOOOOOH! That's it!" Mammon jumped at her sudden outburst. 

"Oi! Why are ya yelling for?! Geez, ya gonna give me a heart attack…" Mammon takes a deep breath. 

"I can just show you myself! Mammon, let me see your D.D.D." Maya claims, holding out her hand. 

"Hey, why do ya need MY D.D.D.? Why not use YOURS huh?" He asks, holding his D.D.D. close to himself. 

"Just…trust me." She says, looking at him softly. 

Mammon sighs, knowing that he really can't say no to his precious human. After a moment, he flops his D.D.D. in her hand. 

Maya smiles happily, "Thank you."

She quickly goes to his camera and takes a moment to think about what exactly to say then hits the record button.

"I'm gonna hide a secret message in here. Let's hope that you figure it out. Oh…Very carefully listen to what I'm saying. Every time you're feeling down, give this a listen. You'll be really happy once you figure it out. Oh…Use this to remind yourself that I'll always be here for ya! So, I hope this will brighten your day! Oh…Maybe you can use this against the brothers. Unless, you wanna keep this between us, which is fine too. Curious about what the message is now? Hope it makes you smile!“ With that, Maya stops the recording and hands Mammon back his D.D.D. 

"What's the message?“ Mammon asks, pulling up the video. 

"Nuh-uh, you have to figure it out yourself! It's more fun that way!" She says, poking his nose with a smile. 

Mammon's face flushes but he sighs and plays the video, holding his D.D.D up to his ear. He listens to the video a couple of times, his mouth barely moving every now and then. Suddenly, his eyes widened and his whole face and ears turn red. Maya can't help but giggle, seeing that this was a mission accomplished. Mammon pulls her into a hug, burying his face in her shoulder. 

"I-I…I love ya too, Maya."

--

Maya blinks, staring at the plush in her hands. 

"SEE! I told you, you wouldn't like it!" Asmo huffs, looking at Mammon with disappointment "I told him to redo it but he wouldn't listen to- What…what are you doing?" Asmo looks back at Maya. 

However, she didn't answer as she was quickly squeezing the plush, cycling over back to Mammon's message. She pressed the plush up to her ear and let the message play again. 

All of the brothers, minus Mammon and Levi, are very confused by what she's trying to do. Levi had already figured out the message when he first recorded it so he was just glad she understood what the hashtag meant.

Mammon on the other hand, was watching her listen to his message again, her lips moving ever so slightly. He was fiddling with his rings, waiting for her to understand what he wanted to say. 

Maya lowered the plush, letting the message playback in her mind again. She spells it out and a small blush forms on her face. She looks up at Mammon, butterflies filling her stomach. Suddenly, she bursts into a giggle fit, leaving most of the brothers even more clueless than before. Levi seems simply content that she wasn't upset anymore. As Mammon sighed in relief, seeing that his message made it through. 

Maya made her way to Mammon and gave him a big hug and kiss on the cheek. Mammon's face turned red and all the other brothers were floored, not understanding what was happening.

 

Maya leans into Mammon's ear and whispers just loud enough for only him to hear, "I missed you too, sweetheart."

[insomniamamma]

Liminal: Ezra and Cee

A/N: Contemporary AU in which Ezra becomes his niece, Cee's caretaker after an automobile accident kills his brother, Damon, and costs him his arm. Same AU as "Ferris wheels are for old people." No reader insert character, just Ezra and Cee on the road. Written for @autumnleaves1991-blog​ ‘s Writer’s Wednesday.

Warnings: Mentions of past trauma/injury. Drug references in a song. Some language. I tried to research body powered transhumeral prosthetics to get some idea of how Ezra's prosthetic arm might work, but then I fell into an overthinking morass, any inaccuracies are mine.

"Willin'" is written by Lowell George. The version referenced in the story is recorded by Linda Ronstadt.

lim·i·nal /ˈlimənl/

adjective: liminal

   1.relating to a transitional or initial stage of a process.    2.occupying a position at, or on both sides of, a boundary or threshold.

--"Willin'"--

          "’... been warped by the rain, driven by the snow,’" Cee sings along with the music rattling through the truck's speakers, "I'm drunk and dirty, don't you know. But I'm still willin'..."

        The road stretches long and straight in front of them, harsh, rust-colored land dotted with scrub under the arc of an impossibly blue sky. Ezra asked Cee to compile the playlist. You are my co-pilot for this mission, he'd told her, and as such your duties include, but are not limited to, navigator, snack supervisor and DJ. DJ? Really? Make us a playlist, Little Bird, every adventure needs some good road music. And she had really delivered.          "’...Out on the road late last night, I'd see my pretty Alice in every headlight, Alice, Dallas Alice...’"  Ezra'd expected hours of auto-tuned pop or loud screamy music where he couldn't understand the words, and while there was some of that, Cee had taken her duties as DJ very seriously, creating a huge genre-bending list that all worked together.

     He knew a lot of it. When he was still weird Uncle Ezra and not Legal Guardian Ezra, Cee made a habit of pawing through his vinyl collection when she and Damon would visit, picking a record to play and then peppering him with questions about it. Still, some of the tracks she picked surprised him, like this one, Linda Ronstadt's version of "Willin'" a road trip anthem if there ever was one, but something he didn't expect Cee to be familiar with.  On their first go through the playlist, he'd asked her, where'd you hear this one, Birdie? You remember that movie, The Abyss? It's in that movie, the director's cut though, not the theatrical cut, the theatrical cut is bullshit--and he'd just listened to her go off about all the things wrong with the theatrical cut, the movie itself he barely remembered, something about divers finding aliens underwater, he'd listened and grinned, Cee could go so quiet sometimes. It was always a relief to hear her sound alive and interested, especially after--          "’And I've been from Tucson to Tucumcari," Cee sings and Ezra joins her, "Tehachapi to Tonopah...’" Cee's voice is sweet. Ezra's voice is not, but that's never stopped him. They've got the windows down. The AC started smelling funny a couple days ago, and, in this part of the world, a breeze to evaporate the sweat is just as good as AC. Cee's hair makes a flyaway halo as they sing--          "’Driven every kind of rig that's ever been made, Driven the backroads so I wouldn't get weighed. And if you give me...’" Ezra and Cee smile at each other, suck in deep breaths for the big chorus, "’...Weed, whites and wine, and you show me a sign...And I'll be willin' to be movin'"

--Petroglyph--

       The rust colored forms on pale stone walls peer out at them. Some loom large in the foreground, others recede into the background as if the weathered rock is a portal a window into some other place that lives just below the skin of the world. The back of Ezra's neck prickles. Sometimes the world is thin. Sometimes he feels as if there is a larger world moving and shifting beneath the surface of this one. Sometimes he feels like things are happening out of order, reality stripping and skipping like a loose bicycle chain--        Cee's warm hand creeps into his, "They're a little scary, aren't they?" She says.        "Indeed they are," says Ezra, "One has to wonder what they were thinking. What they were trying to say. Are these gods in these pictures? Or just regular men?"        "Does it matter?" Asks Cee, and he jerks his head to look at her. She is utterly entranced by the red figures and sigils.        "Of course it does," he says, "You don't think so?"        "I mean, it matters, I guess, but what matters more is that people made these," she says, "People like us. People with hands. Not that Ancient Aliens bullshit." Ezra laughs. Cee squeezes his hand.        "C'mon," she says, "let's see more."

--Rest Stop--

       "Hey MOM!," a child's voice snaps Ezra out of his reverie. Cee is in the truck stop, using the restroom and restocking their snack supply. At these stops he fuels up and then gives her some cash and sets her loose inside. And then they stretch their legs and sit outside for a spell. Ezra sits at a picnic bench letting the sun hit his closed eyelids, "MOM! That guy's got a ROBOT ARM! Like WINTER SOLDIER!" Ezra opens his eyes to a little boy, maybe four with a bunch of curly hair and big eyes, pointing at him.        "Daniel!" His mother hisses, and pinches at his arm, "That's rude. I'm so sorry. Danny, what did I tell you about staring--"        "Ma'am? It's quite alright, Ma'am," says Ezra, and hunkers down so he's eye level with the little boy.        "Hi there," he says, "Daniel, is it? I'm Ezra." He offers his right arm, the double hook at the end open, titanium alloy padded with silicone. Daniel solemnly grips the hooks and shakes.        "You've got stickers!" Says Daniel, and for a second Ezra is confused, and then he grins, looking down at the bedecked black plastic of his prosthesis. He stands.        "My girl decided that I must have a sticker for every state we stop in," says Ezra, he stands and smiles at Daniel's mom, "Like an old steamer trunk. I'm afraid I didn't catch your name--"        Cee steps out of the air-conditioned cavern of the truck stop, slits her eyes against the brightness of midday sun glittering up from the concrete, plastic bags full of crap-snacks and energy drinks threaded over her arms. Ezra handed her a couple twenties and told her to go nuts. Re-supply runs have turned into their own sort of game. She always grabs the usual stuff, chips and Snickers bars and Paydays (Ezra has an absolute weakness for Paydays. They don't taste like they used to, he'd griped, but that didn't stop him from eating them), but somewhere along the line, Cee decided to turn this into a battle of the wills. Her unspoken mission is to find something so utterly weird at one of these stops that Ezra won't eat it. So far, she has been unsuccessful. The closest thing was an aloe juice and cucumber drink that smelled amazing, but felt like swallowing cold snot. That one was a draw. She has high hopes for the dill pickle-sriracha gummy worms nestled in the bottom of the bag. The packaging looked like Christmas in hell. More important than the snacks is the plain, flat paper bag she holds.                                                                                     Ezra's near the picnic benches chattering at some lady with a kid. Menace, she thinks, but smiles. Ezra was always the extrovert before, and it's good to him smiling so big and open in the sunshine, making friends with random people at a truck stop. She sees an echo of her and him before, when she and Dad would visit when she was small and he'd tell her some outrageous tale and she'd say Uncle Ezra, you're so weird, and he'd scoop her up and swing her around, planting a prickly kiss on her cheek and saying oh, little bird, you have no idea, and this always made Dad laugh.

       "Oh, Ez-ra," Cee calls, and when he turns, he sees her devilish grin, holding a small brown paper bag up beside her face like it's contraband, "Look what I found."         "So I get to witness the sacred stickering?" Asks Ezra's new friend.        "Indeed you do," says Ezra, "This is Cee. Cee, meet Jody, and that little man playing in the dirt there is Daniel."        "Nice to meet you," says Cee, "Stick your arm out, old man."        "Don't you want to document this momentous occasion?"        "Oh, right," Cee pulls out her phone, "Hey, uh, miss Jody? Can you take some video? I got it all set up."        "Cee is documenting our adventures for posterity," says Ezra. He extends his prosthetic, already covered in overlapping ovoids, enough that they are starting to resemble dragon scales, "What do you think?" Cee and Daniel circle round.        "How bout here?" asks Daniel, tapping just above the articulated elbow.        "That's a good spot," says Cee and peels the sticker from it's backing with a flourish. She smiles up at her phone recording in a stranger's hand, "We have now infiltrated the state of Nevada," she grins, "Evil-doers beware."        "Yeah!" Says the little boy, pudgy hands planted on his hips for the benefit of the camera, "Or Winter Soldier will KICK YOUR ASS!"        "Daniel!"

--Stars--

       Cee wakes in the dead of night, disoriented, a darkness so thick that for a moment she's not sure where she is, and then she hears Ezra's rhythmic snoring off to her side, reaches out and brushes fabric of the tent and lays back, puzzled, muscles pleasantly sore from a day spent scrabbling up and down eroded granite boulders that looked like they belonged on Mars or Tatooine, walking trails and marveling at the strange ecology of the high-desert, so unlike back home. Bad dream? She wonders, probably. She feels her eyes getting heavy, feels herself lulled by Ezra's sleep sounds, snores punctuated by mumbles. Sometimes full sentences, his side of whatever dream-conversation he's having. Probably has no idea he does it--        Cee sits bolt upright, hands clutched in fists against her chest, a high-pitched wail cuts the cold night, a sound like a woman screaming, and another wail threads through the first, so loud it could be right outside the tent, and then a sound like gruesome laughter. The back of her neck prickles and her heart pounds in her throat. She tells herself that it's just some wild animal making noise, some desert bird maybe, but wasn't the California desert the last known home of the Manson family? Maybe not this desert, but still--        "Ezra," she hisses, and he mumbles something incoherent, "Ezra, wake up!" She reaches and pokes him hard, "Ezra!"        "Whazzit birdie?"        "Listen!" The screams rise and fall again like something from a horror movie.        "s'just coyotes," says Ezra, "probly next county over. They don't hurt people, they're just loud."        "You sure?"        "Go back to sleep, Cee."

       "Ezra," He's dreaming, some place with Joshua trees the size of skyscrapers, spiked limbs under a red sky. Cee's with him somewhere in the bloodlight but he can't see her, just hears her calling--        "Ezra!" He blinks awake, the red sky receding. Cee is shaking him.        "Yuh. M'awake birdie,"        "I gotta pee," she says.        "You know where the outhouses are, just right down the trail,"        "I'm not going by myself! Not with those things out there!" Ezra pushes himself up and shakes his head, blinking the sleep from his eyes. He can just make out Cee's form against the faint light of the sky leaking through the tent.        "Alright, just gimme a second," he says.        "I'll get the light,"        "We don't need it," he says.        "Ez-"        "We got night eyes now," he says, "No light pollution out here. You'll see."

       Ezra stands transfixed in the chill dark, head cocked upward. The more he looks, the more he can see. More stars than he's ever seen in his life spread across the vast inverted bowl of the sky, no summer haze out here, no light-wash from streetlights. He is dizzy with it, the vast sweep of the sky, and as he stares and his eyes adjust further, he can see the arm of the Milky Way angled across the black, can actually see the dark band of dust threaded through the silver-blue light. He doesn't hear the outhouse door shutting, doesn't notice Cee beside him until she folds his hand into hers.        "Look up, Little Bird," he breathes and it feels like a prayer, his heart suddenly full, squeezing in his chest, Cee small and warm next to him.        "Oh, wow," she says, barely a whisper, "That's the Milky Way isn't it?" Tears blur the stars and fall hot against his cheeks.        "It is." He looks at her, her face upturned, cheeks and hair frosted in star shine, limning her eyes, her smile. They've lost so much, him and Cee, but they've gained each other, and that's not nothing is it?        "We're so small," says Cee, "Us. People. This whole planet. All of us. We're just a little dot." Ezra smiles in the dark, even as tears dry in his lashes. He squeezes her fingers in his.        "C'mon, let's get back in the tent before we freeze."

--Hoodoo--

       Cee sleeps in the passenger's seat. She'd helped break camp and pack everything up even though it was early for her. They had spent an extra night in Joshua Tree and now had to make up the difference. It's time to go home. There are things he wants to do before Cee goes back to school, things they need to take care of. So he woke them early, promising Cee that she could sleep in the car as long as she needed. She'd helped him get ready, half-peeling a couple candy bars and putting them were he could easily reach.        "You want the playlist?" She asked, "I can get it going."        "Not right now. I want some quiet."          “'Kay," and Cee was asleep before they were to the next mile marker.

       Hoodoos rise on either side of the highway, striated red cliffs against the slowly lightening sky, cut into improbable formations by long gone rivers, thin spires topped with boulders, first glints of sun hitting the higher cliffs while everything else still exists in that liminal space between day and night. Ezra glances over at Cee, hair in a messy halo, face slack in sleep, cheeks sun-reddened and newly freckled, closed eyes moving, dreaming. Ezra thinks of those first days, wracked with pain and trying to navigate the new, dark-shrowded territory of her and him, each of them crippled by loss, each willing to lash out at the other. Ezra thinks of how far they've come since then, uncurling like relaxing fists and learning to be with each other. They drive into the dawn and the first bit of light touches her hair, turning it to fire. She shifts in her sleep, turning away from that first hint of sun. He doesn't know if she's awake or not.        "I love you, Cee."        "Love you to, Ez," she murmurs and settles back into sleep. Ezra looks out over hoodoo country spread red tinged and stark against the rising light, the miles of road ahead. We're gonna be ok, he thinks and means it.

[shadow-dancing]

Some (썸)

Part of a Sports AU collab hosted by @leesmrk​

Dedicated to Dee —🌿 Inspired by a fan video of Denis Ten & Yuna Kim, as well as Robbie Williams.

Words: 4,052 Genre: sports AU, figure skater!jisung 

Listen: She’s the One ; Vuelie ; Some (썸)

The figure skating competitions at the Winter Olympics came to an end with the conclusion of the free skate for Ladies' singles. It was your first time representing your country at the Olympics, & you had clocked in at 140 points, landing you at 5th place.  

The event after the competitions was the Gala Exhibition, where the individual & pair skaters who either won or were close to winning a medal got to perform routines—showcasing each skater's personality & performing tricks— followed by a group skating. You were one of the selected skaters to perform, & while you could hardly wait to perform the routine for your individual program, you were incredibly nervous for the group dance.  

---------------------------------------

[Practice Day 1; 5PM] 

You panted, finishing your individual routine with a flourish. Yulia, a fellow skater clapped, praising you. You laughed & curtseyed dramatically, thanking her as you skated off to grab some water from the bench. There were a few people in the audience who had come to watch the practice & they waved at you; you waved back.  

"ALRIGHT EVERYONE GATHER IN THE MIDDLE!" A voice boomed over the speakers, almost making you choke on your water.  

You turned just as a burly man jostled into your arm; the man apologized curtly as he walked off. Unfortunately, you had forgotten to cap your bottle, & some of the contents splashed onto the windbreaker of the skater near you. You gasped, & the skater looked down at the wet patch on his jacket. You recognized him—tall & baby-faced, Park Jisung was the 19-year-old gold medallist of the men's singles. He was well known for his agility & grace, as well as his ability to execute triple Axels with ease. Jisung was immensely popular amongst skaters; you've heard people say he was very friendly & funny, & got along with everyone. You had never spoken to him, as you saw yourself as a mere nobody amongst the industry giants. & now you had blown the chance to make a good impression. 

"I am so sorry!" You wailed as you juggled between capping the bottle & grabbing a towel to wipe the water.  

"No, don't worry! It'll dry," he assured you with a wide smile. With that, he pulled off his blade guards & set it on the side before he entered the rink. You stared after him, quickly following. 

All skaters made their way to the centre, where the burly man stood, a mic in one hand & a clipboard in the other; a silver whistle hung around his neck. He introduced himself as Mr. Khan, the choreographer for the group dance, & gave a brief rundown of the group dance. You swallowed nervously—for the first part of the group dance, individual male & female skaters would pair up, & have a sort of waltz on the ice. Immediately people began excitingly searching for pairs, making a racket as they talked up a storm with who they wanted to partner up with, but Mr. Khan blew the whistle around his neck.  

"Quiet down, I will pair you guys up!" He said, turning to his clipboard as skaters erupted in groans of dismay.  

One by one, skaters were paired up, & then it was your turn. By this point only a few skaters were left, & you really hoped you were paired with someone you were familiar with. 

"Y/N!" Mr. Khan barked. You raised a tentative hand. "With Mr. Park Jisung!"  

You swallowed. Skaters & the crowd oohed & aahed, congratulating you as you made your way over to the gold medallist, whose faded pink hair made him stand out among the crowd. His face showed obvious signs that he had no idea whose name was just called, but his eyebrows shot up as you sidled up to him. 

"Oh hello, it's you! I'm Jisung," he smiled, nodding politely.  

"H-Hi, I'm Y/N," you introduced, holding out a hand.  

Jisung took it, gave your hand one firm shake, & you both proceeded to stand next to each other in silence, watching the other skaters chat livelily with their partners. You felt incredibly small standing next to the gold medallist, having won no medals yourself. Jisung on the other hand, felt very shy being paired with a girl, especially you—he had no idea who you were but he found the meet cute between the both of you funny, like something out of a romcom.  

Mr. Khan called for everyone to listen up as he began to play the music that was to be used for the group dance—Love Story, by Richard Clayderman. He arranged all skaters into groups by gender, with females standing in front of the males in 3 rows, & males behind in 3 rows. He gave a demonstration of the first choreography for females, where they were to skate forward, make 4 loops, & stop at the end of the rink to address the audience, before facing behind to hold both arms out to the males. Males will then skate forward, make 3 loops, & reach out to the females. Taking their partner's hand, the couples will break into 2 groups & sort of waltz with their partners. After 5 practices of the first part of the choreo, it was time to waltz.  

"Excuse me, may I use you to demonstrate the closed hold?" Mr. Khan asked, addressing you & Jisung. He shrugged, looking to you for permission. You nodded, & Mr. Khan pulled you both out, speaking into the mic to get everyone's attention. 

"Face your partner; males, step to the left a bit. Ladies, left hand on men's upper arm near the shoulder!" Mr. Khan instructed. You rested your left hand on Jisung's upper arm, ignoring the need to admire how well developed his biceps were. You could hear screams & hoots from the audience. 

"Men, hold the ladies' right hand in your left, & put your right palm on the ladies' shoulder blade, on the bra strap." 

Jisung took your hand without hesitation, but at the mention of where his other hand was supposed to go, he looked at you in alarm, the panic obvious in his eyes. Your face was on fire, but you nodded. He flushed, but pressed his right palm on your shoulder blade, avoiding eye contact with you.  

"Okay now sway side to side with your partner! Sway with grace!" Mr. Khan said, swaying like seagrass against the ocean currents. 

You & Jisung swayed... Not so gracefully. In fact, you were as stiff as a board—as if the fact you were holding a man so close wasn't bad enough, the whole world will have their eyes on Jisung during the gala, & you feared making him look bad. Jisung on the other hand, was equally stiff—he felt incredibly awkward holding you intimately when he couldn't even look you in the eye, & was worried he was making you uncomfortable. 

"Hey don't be so stiff—you two look like drunk octopuses! Loosen up & sway like a lazy ocean hugs the shore! Be the epitome of grace!" Mr. Khan commented as he skated by, checking up on each couple.  

You slouched, a nasty pit of anxiety swirling within you. Jisung noticed the further drop in your confidence, & wanted to say something to lighten the mood but he didn't want to say something that would make the situation worse, opting to keep his mouth shut instead. You both attempted to sway much more gracefully, but Mr. Khan's sigh of disappointment was proof it wasn't going well. 

3 excruciatingly long hours passed before you were allowed to leave the rink for the day. You broke away from Jisung immediately, giving him a small bow before leaving the rink quickly. Jisung watched you speed walk to the back after slipping on your blade guards, his heart heavy. You sat in one of the bathroom stalls, wiping the hot tears that fell—you were making a fool of yourself with your nerves, & worse of all, you were probably embarrassing Jisung too. 

---------------------------------------

[Practice Day 2; 7AM] 

Jisung awoke from an exhausting sleep, having tossed & turned all night. He felt awful; after you had exited the rink, Ten, a friend & the silver medallist, told him you were clearly uncomfortable, & this ate at him—he wished he had said something to break the ice between the both of you sooner.  

He was determined to set things right today. He informed his coach he was leaving the Olympic Village for a bit to get something, & used the bicycle-sharing system to bike into town.  

Jisung stopped in front of a little florist. He peered through the glass doors—it looked like a mini greenhouse with flowers & leaves everywhere. Gingerly, Jisung pushed open the door, & was greeted by a little old lady who was forming a heart shape with some roses. Next to her was a huge flower display, bursting with bright colours.  

"Hello dear. Wait please, I'll get my grandson to help you," she smiled as she hobbled to the back.  

Jisung looked around at the abundance of different flowers, a thought suddenly occurring to him—he had no idea what to get you.  

"Hi there, how can I help you?" A very tall man, with jet black hair & a cheeky glint in his eyes, approached Jisung. Jisung glanced at his name tag—Johnny.  

"Hello. Ah, I'm looking for... A flower to give my skating partner," Jisung mumbled.  

"Skating... Oh? You're that 2-time Olympic gold medallist, Park Jisung!" Johnny gasped, giddy with excitement. He straightened up & recomposed himself, & held a hand out. Jisung shook it.  

"But aren’t you a single skater?" 

"I am, but I have a partner for the gala. I, uh, made her feel uncomfortable & awkward during practice yesterday, & I wanted to make amends," Jisung confessed, heat rising in his cheeks as he remembered yesterday's events.  

"Okay. Anything in mind?" 

"I was hoping you could help me." 

"Sure. What's she like?" 

"I don't actually know." 

"Then, is there anything you'd like to tell her?" 

Jisung paused. He wanted to say many things—he wanted to apologize, say something to ease up the tension, & mostly, he wanted to befriend you.   

---------------------------------------

"Can we start over?"  

You blinked, registering the question. Jisung had appeared at your room, out of breath, & hammered at your door so hard the someone called the security guard to remove him from the premises. After apologizing to the guard, Jisung pulled a yellow daffodil—wrapped in a plastic package & tied off with a pink ribbon—out from the bag in hand & thrusted it into your face as he blurted out the question.  

"Ah, sorry. Let me start again," Jisung corrected himself, facepalming. "I want to say, I'm sorry with how we hit off yesterday, & I want to start over. Can we?" 

"YES WE CAN!" Your roommate, Irene, yelled from the balcony, where she was hanging clothes.  

"IRENE!" You screamed in horror, throwing your disposable slipper at her. She laughed as she closed the sliding door, & your flimsy sponge footwear bounced off the glass harmlessly. 

Steam was practically coming out of your ears as you hid your face in utter embarrassment. Jisung failed to hide his amused smile, but held the flower out once more. You hung your head, but took the flower, looking up momentarily to give him an embarrassed smile.  

"Thank you for this." 

"Shall we go practice our waltz?" 

"Okay, I'll just put this here..." you quickly placed the daffodil on your nightstand, grabbed your bag & shoes, & shot Irene a look as she giggled. You closed the door, & faced Jisung. "Alright, let's go." 

---------------------------------------

"Okay, no breaking eye contact, yeah?" Jisung reaffirmed. You nodded. 

You both got into your closed hold, eyes trained on each other, never breaking away even when swaying, which was more twisting than swaying as you both swayed at your own rhythm, pace awkwardly unmatched. Skaters who passed by eyed you both weirdly. It was definitely awkward continuing to stare at each other for longer than necessary, & you looked away first, much to both your relief.  

"What was that?" Ten asked, face scrunched & arms crossed—Jisung had asked him to spectate & give pointers. "It looked more like an intense staredown at a punching ring than an intimate dance." 

"You're both as stiff as a pine tree, both trying to be the lead. Let Jisung lead, & you follow!" Ten instructed pointedly at you.  

"Trust each other. Once you're as loose as a ripe durian, you fall—" Ten dramatically keeled backwards, free falling. Jisung let go of you quickly as he shot forward to grab Ten, who laughed in delight, by the front of his windbreaker. "& you trust this guy here to catch you. Wanna try?" 

"Next time I'm letting you hit the ice," Jisung grumbled as skated over to you, & you held your hand out for him to take. You looked up at Jisung, & he stared down at you. Relax, trust him, let him lead. 

You relaxed into his hold, & held his hand firmly. He swayed, & you followed in his rhythm. He led you into a gentle sway, & your pulse quickened at he stepped aside to twirl you. He pulled you back into his tender embrace, & Jisung's breath hitched in his throat at how close you were when you came to a stop.  

"EVERYONE GATHER AROUND FOR REHEARSALS!"  

Ten groaned, rolling his eyes. "Way to ruin the moment, Mr. Khan." 

Mr. Khan had everyone run through the routine. Everyone got in their positions, & Mr. Khan cued for the song. You readied yourself & pushed forward with the rest of the female skaters, making your loops, addressing the audience, & turning back to await the males.  

An idea formed in Jisung's head & he dropped on one knee as he glided to you, arms open as if he were welcoming a hug; he pouted his lips & stuck his chin up in a faux gentleman persona. You chuckled & amused him; you received him with arms dramatically outstretched & knees slightly bent, like a curtsey. He broke character, giggling as he enclosed his hand around yours; you pulled him up, & he spun you in his arms before slowly dipping you, careful not to lean you back too much or risk concussing you on the ice. Jisung's heart skipped a beat as you squealed with ecstatic laughter.  

---------------------------------------

[D-day; 3PM] 

Jisung examined his appearance in the long changing room mirrors. He spent an hour poking his eyeballs out while putting on blue coloured contacts; he managed to find a fellow skater to put brown eyeshadow & light touches of red lipstick on his face so his features could be seen.  

He wore a getup akin to Anna from the movie Frozen as his music choice was Vuelie, the opening to the movie. His top had a light to dark blue gradient, with a mandarin collar & poet sleeves. A gold waistband wrapped snugly around his waist, & his black trousers had some gold accents going up his pant leg as a nod to the gold patterns on Anna's boots. He had a short magenta cloth that cascaded down his left shoulder like a mini cape, pinned in place by a silver leaf cape clip on his left collar bone & linked to his top button with a silver chain.  

"Looking good, Jisung!" Ten sang as he skipped by, dressed in a black shirt & white pants with a red cloth tied around one of his belt loops. 

"Thank you. I'll see you out there," Jisung waved as he walked out the changing room.  

Out on the rink, he took in the sight of the dozens of excited skaters warming up on ice, whizzing by in their unique outfits & updos. The seats were packed with people, their cheers echoing through the stadium. Jisung removed his blade guards & stepped out on the ice to practice his individual routine. The rush of the wind was against his face as he sped down the rink, executing his jumps & spins flawlessly. He spun to a stop, almost clocking you in the face when he raised his arm.  

" Whoa Y/N! I'm sorry!" He said quickly, moving his arm.  

"It's fine, I shouldn't have come so close," you assured him. You held your head up & put your hands on your hip, posing dramatically to show off your dress. "What do you think?" 

Jisung took in your appearance—you were dressed in black from head to toe, with a black empire dress with sheer bishop sleeves; intricately sewn diamonds on your dress sparkled in the bright lights of the stadium. You had bold dark eyeshadow, & your glittering hair was brushed back into a ponytail. 

"You look very pretty," Jisung said earnestly.  

"Thank you. You look very princely yourself," you smiled, adjusting his cape straight. "Would you like a few rounds around the rink?" 

Jisung took your hand in response, & pulled you forward. You both went around the rink several times, practicing the part of the group choreography that came after the waltz. Soon the lights cut off, signifying the start of the event as all skaters got off the rink.  

  ---------------------------------------

As the piano slowed & She's the One by Robbie Williams slowly came to an end, you finished your routine with a spin, your arms hugging your shoulders; you opened them, dropping into a bow as the audience gave a round of applause. You waved, exiting quickly so the next skater could come on. Jisung waited at the side, holding out some water for you.  

"That was lovely, I liked your song!" Jisung spoke into your ear as he handed you the bottle.  

"It was what got me into skating in the first place, I wouldn't be here if not for it," you panted, taking a swig of water.  

"I should be grateful for it, then, otherwise I wouldn't have met you." 

You choked, your heartbeat picking up as heat rose in your cheeks. Jisung thumped you on the back, asking if you were okay as you coughed. You nodded. Jisung continued to pat you on the back gently until your coughing fit died down, & by that time, it was his turn.  

"All the best!" You gasped out. He nodded & left.  

You swallowed the ticklish sensation with a quick gulp of water, eager to watch Jisung's performance. Vuelie came on, filling the stadium with the powerful vocals of the Norwegian female choir, Cantus. Jisung hit his choreography hard, executing multiple turns & jumps along while bobbing his head along to the vocalisation. With a deep breath, he glided forward to perform a difficult triple Axel & quadruple toe loop combination he wouldn't dare attempt in a competition. A diapason of applause came from the audience & skaters alike, as his routine came to an end with a final sit spin. Jisung gasped for air, catching his breath as he bowed to the audience. He turned, catching sight of you clapping with all your might, your eyes lit up & shining in the fancy stadium lights. Heart racing & cheeks flushed; he made his way over to you; you held your hand out, & he grasped it as he put on his blade guards.  

"You were absolutely brilliant! Especially the triple axel & quad toe combo!" You praised, brushing some hair out of his eyes.  

Jisung flushed, mumbling a thanks. People were starting to stare as you went on holding his hand, & his blush deepened; not that it could be seen in the dim lights. You finally realized people were staring—especially focused on you holding onto Jisung's hand. You jerked away quickly, cheeks burning; Jisung's face fell, but said nothing.  

  ---------------------------------------

Gingerly, you pushed forward into a smooth glide with your peers as the music cued; the audience clapped & waved as you all opened your arms out towards them. You turned back, focusing solely on Jisung—he slid forward with the male skaters, completed his loops without a hitch & made his way to you on one knee, arms opened. You grasped his hands, & he entwined his fingers with yours as he pulled you into the closed hold. You felt delicately light, as Jisung gently swayed you to the melody & gave you a careful twirl.  

You wished the tender moment lasted a little longer, but the tempo picked up as Love Story faded into Chopin's Minute Waltz. You kept next to Jisung as all skaters began to circle the rink, performing inside & outside parallel spread eagle with their partners, spinning twice before finally breaking away to perform the skater's preferred jump choice. You struck the ice with your toe pick, propelling yourself into a triple Lutz while Jisung swept himself into a triple Axel. Jisung slid forward & set his hand around your waist, gently pulling you forward to circle the rink with the rest of the skaters once more, before gathering at the centre of the ice for a massive group hug with your peers. The audience brought the house down as they screamed & clapped; you lined up with the skaters, & dipped into a deep bow to the audience. One of your fellow skaters brought out a selfie stick & their phone, calling for everyone to gather around for a wefie. Jisung slung his arms around your shoulder, & you leaned your head on the crook of his neck, smiling widely as the photo was taken. Jisung almost fainted with joy but managed to grin for the camera.  

You hung back to wave & take photos from the audience, & a child even gave you a fat dolphin plush, much to your delight. You rubbed the child's hair, thanking him, & waved to him one last time as you made your way to the exit. You make your way backstage, adrenaline coursing through your vein as you slipped on your windbreaker, the dolphin tucked safely under your arm. You curled your fingers into a fist to warm the tips of your fingers a little—it was getting pretty cold now that you were drenched in sweat. 

"Y/N!" 

You turned to see Jisung dashing over to you, struggling to pull on his jacket while holding a large bouquet of roses & his water bottle at the same time.  

"Here let me hold that," you offered, taking his water bottle & reaching for the roses next, but Jisung shook his head. He stopped fidgeting with his jacket, & held the roses out to you. 

"W-Would you like to have dinner with me?" He stammered, very red in the face.  

"Me?" You asked in disbelief, your cheeks starting to tingle as heat rose. 

"Yeah," he nodded, hiding his face behind the bouquet. "If-if you want to, of course!"  

You gaped, mouth opening & shutting like a fish. Jisung pursed his lips, awaiting your answer.  

Finally, you found your voice. "Yes, I would love to."  

Jisung's eyes brightened, & he took his bottle from you as held out the roses to you once more. You accepted the roses, taking in how pretty the flower arrangement was.  

"This is really beautiful, thank you," you grinned, holding out your free hand to him—he closed his huge palms around yours, warming your frozen fingertips.  

"Where should we go?"  

"I'll go wherever you go." 

"Then... I know a nice place nearby. Shall we?" 

"Let's." 

Smiling uncontrollably & heart hammering in his chest, he pulled you forward gently, walking in front so you didn't have to see how incredibly red he was getting.  You were partially hiding your face in your flowers, your neck & cheeks burning & your stomach doing happy flip flops.  

You both passed Ten, who was filling up his water bottle. He eyed Jisung's red face, how you were hiding your own face, & the hand holding.  

"You two a thing now?" He smirked, raising an eyebrow suggestively.  

"NO!" You both yelled in unison, hurrying out in embarrassment.  

Ten stared after you both, blinking in confusion.   

"Kids these days," he chuckled, going back to filling his bottle. 

- 完

[bh7theseriesblog]

The Origins of Big Hero 7

Big Hero 7: The Series

Origins

*A flicker of black and white starts up for a while, static noises barely blocks out a voice*

Umm…Hello? Can you hear me?

*the flickering and static stops as it shows a 14 year old girl with dyed blue hair and purple eye contacts*

Can you hear me? Oh it's working!

*The girl sits on the chair in front of the camera. She smooths out her sea green skirt as she clears her throat*

Hi! So…after some thinking I decided to make a video diary so I can remember what I said. After all, who knows when it'll come in handy right? Oh right! I forgot to introduce myself! My name is Cora Mizichio.

*Cora chuckles slightly before continuing*

So I guess I should start with my life and such. Let me warn you though, it's kind of a long and wild story.

*she pulls out a phone and starts showing pictures*

I have lived in San Fransokyo for my whole life with my Dad, Mizuchi and Grandmama, Kaguya. My mom, Akemi passed away when I was a baby.

*image of a blonde hair woman smiled warmly before switching to Cora and her family. Her father being Goliath in stature and her grandmother dressed in a kimono with a cane*

Then my family found out that I'm incredibly intelligent for my age. I suppose hacking into your father's computer to send a birthday card at the age of 4 does that. My Dad is very sweet and an old softie, but is very protective of me and wasn't sure that I should go to school. So I was homeschooled, it was fun being taught by Grandmama and such about Marine biology, but…I felt kind of lonely…

After all my studies, I actually made a habit of bot fighting disguised as an unknown cat-masked competitor under the name 'Nekodomo'. It earned good money since at the time Dad hadn't gotten any luck with jobs due to his height. But it was my very first night of bot fighting that I met him…Hiro Hamada

*she flips the photo to a young Asian boy her age, with messy raven hair, large almond brown eyes and a tooth gap in his smile.*

I've never had very much luck when it came to making or having friends, so if I someone told me that I would end up dating this guy I would had laughed. But yeah we did. I was paired up with Hiro in one of those special bot fighting events like the duo duel. We won, but than the cops were coming and I was so scared of getting caught that I couldn't move. But then the next thing I know Hiro grabs my hand and we were running like crazy before the cops even spot us! I have no idea how long we had been running, but to be honest I didn't really care because I was still awe-struck by the fact that Hiro had save me from getting arrested and we didn't even know each other at the time. But that was all about to change, because as we were finally approaching a safe distance from the cops, it was at that moment where I tripped and fell flat on my face, and at the same time broke my mask. Thankfully Hiro picked me back up and we started running again, with me leaving my broken mask behind. Once we finally stopped and knew we were safe, that was when Hiro and I actually first met face-to-face. Now I have to be honest with you, I've never really known if the whole 'Love at first sight' thing was actually real or not, but it's the only thing I can describe how I felt when I first looked into Hiro's eyes. It was there when we properly introduced ourselves to each other and after that, we started seeing each other more. And it was only after 4 months of hanging out together, that I finally got to meet his family, and he got to meet mine.

*The picture now showed Hiro with a woman holding a calico japanese bobtail cat and a young man on either side of him.*

The woman on his left is his Aunt Cass, she runs a coffee shop called the Lucky Cat Cafe. The young man on his right is his older brother Tadashi. And the adorably cute kitty-cat Aunt Cass is holding is Mochi, their family pet. They are really cool people, and they always asked how I was doing and such, and Mochi is such a sweet kitty that he always tries to cuddle up to me whenever I come over. Hiro and I actually became an official thing one night when I saved his butt from Yama's minions. And boy were they surprised! Aunt Cass actually bounced when Hiro told them that I'm his girlfriend! Dad and Grandmama met them that night too, while dad wasn't too happy at first about me dating, Grandmama convinced him…after hitting him on the head with her cane.

*Cora giggled at the memory*

Anyway, After a slight misadventure where Hiro and Tadashi landed in jail and Cass had to bail them out, Tadashi actually took Hiro to SFIT, San Fransokyo institute of Technology that same night. Hiro told me that he met Tadashi's friends. There's Gogo: the cool biker chick, Honey Lemon: the stylish Chem genius, Wasabi: Laser neat freak, and Fred: the secret Billionaire super hero geek. Afterwards Hiro and I actually applied to SFIT by entering the showcase! Hiro made these miniature robots he called Microbots which he can control via head transmitter, I on the other hand did super strength suction cup shoes that can stick on any surface. We both won and we…were gonna celebrate until…a huge fire broke out in the showcase building and Tadashi ran back inside to help Callaghan, a teacher at the school….he didn't make it…

*Cora turned quiet, looking at her hands as she takes a deep breath*

Hiro wasn't himself for a while. I visited him a lot since the fire, and I mostly talked and tried to comfort and be there for him. Then came the day Hiro stubbed his toe and Baymax came along.

*A picture of a white inflated figure came to the picture*

Baymax was Tadashi's project, a robotic nurse to be more specific. He heard Hiro say ow and activated to help him. Then one of Hiro's microbots started acting weird, and Baymax followed the direction it went! It was then we found a guy in a kabuki mask controlling the Microbots. But they were destroyed at the fire right? Once Hiro pieced together that it was the kabuki-masked man that started the fire to steal them, which in turned killed Tadashi…Hiro decided to build Baymax some armor which…well

*the next picture showed Baymax in protective gear*

We traveled down to the port where we saw him take some type of machine out of the ocean. But then it turns out Baymax called the gang to help us, but sadly the guy in the mask saw us. We barely escaped with our lives that night! Thankfully Baymax being a walking marshmallow, also makes him an inflatable raft too. Afterwards we got to Fred's mansion and discussed over what to do next. Side note: it was weird to see that Fred is a billionaire.

*shows portrait of a young Fred and his parents in classy attire*

Hiro and I then built ourselves armor to fight the guy in the mask. Honey lemon got this cute chemistry purse to pull out what she needed, Gogo got some sick skates to zoom past us, Fred got a killer Kaiju costume that breaths fire, Wasabi got awesome laser blades on the backs of his hands, and I got my aquatic camouflage suit with squid strength suction cup shoes! And learning back from his previous work, Hiro turned Baymax from a stay puff marshmallow with bicycle gear to an awesome superhero!

*the next photo shows Baymax in his red armor*

After training and flying around the city we got down to business. We flew to Akuma island where the masked guy was, and it was there we learned something interesting. Krei and some government officials had something called 'Project Silent Sparrow'. It backfired when the portal sucked everything in, and the pilot was stuck. But then the masked guy attacked us! We tried to fight back but….

*a small clip showed Fred jumping only to be punched away *

We bombed, big time.

Hiro and I got lucky to get the mask…but the person was not who we thought….

Turns out Callaghan grabbed the transmitter and used it and the Microbots to protect himself in the fire…leaving Tadashi to die….

It was then that Hiro took out Baymax's health care chip and ordered him to kill Callaghan…

*Cora took a deep breathe before standing up and leaving the room, she returned back with a glass of water and started drinking it. Once she was done She then continued.*

Thankfully the gang got Baymax back to normal but Hiro was furious. He just left with Baymax…but we eventually met up with Hiro at his place, with a video of Tadashi…it was also when we showed him what we discovered. The pilot was no random person Krei hired. She was Callaghan's daughter, and Callaghan was out for blood.

We got to Krei Tech where Callaghan got his portal running. Hiro then learned what we needed to do to beat him; instead of the mask, we take out the Microbots, then he'd be powerless. But despite that, the portal was still open, and ready to tear itself to pieces. Then Baymax dropped the biggest bomb on us, Callaghan's daughter was still alive in there.

Hiro and I got on Baymax to rescue her. We found her pod but Baymax's thrusters were wrecked from the debris…

Baymax…he got us out by rocket punch…but stayed behind in the portal…

It's been weeks since then…

Krei agreed to keep our identities a secret, Callaghan is in prison, and his daughter is making a steady recovery at the hospital. And the news had been exploding over 'the mysterious group of heroes' that saved the city.

Hiro and I had been doing good, we talked to the gang a lot and we actually reapplied to SFIT again.

*Cora then looks at the clock beside her and gasped*

Oh man it's almost midnight! And first day of class is tomorrow! Anyway, thank you for listening! And…Baymax…I don't know if you can hear me..but Hiro has been doing good. We all miss you…especially me and Hiro...wish us good luck, cause who knows what happens tomorrow.

*Cora smiles at the camera before turning it off.*

A.N: This is an updated look for the prolouge chapter of Big Hero 7: The Series!

Liking the new visuals? ;3

This chapter has been edited by WolfWitchHuntress1318 at Fanfiction.net! Thank you for being my patient editor! Thank you for following and reading Big Hero 7! Love ya!

[damn-behzinga]

Unconventional Family

Ethan Payne & OC! Sister

summary - Ethan meets his half sister for the first time and he decides she should meet his family, the sidemen.

warnings - abandonment issues, bad dads

request - Can you do a  behzinga imagine where he has like an older sister and the boys meet her. the sister isnt the reader tho

masterlist + request info

a/n - I used the name ‘Naya’ in memory of Naya Rivera because Glee was a childhood favourite of mine. I will forever miss her, Naya, rest easy, fly high with Cory.

gif credit @sdmngifs​

"Ethan Payne?" The woman asked causing Ethan to squint at her.

"Who's asking?"

"Um, there's no easy way to put this but-" The woman took a deep breath. "I'm your sister. My name is Naya."

"I - um-" Ethan struggled for words and instead he spat, "What the fuck?"

"I know this might come as a shock but my dad cheated on my mum with yours and I-" Naya sighed. "You don't look like him."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"You should. He's a complete asshole." Naya snorted.

"Such an asshole!" Ethan agreed, barking out a laugh. They continued laughing until Ethan asked, "So, how did you find me?"

"Your mum still knows my mum and they talked. She was going to tell you but I said that I wanted to meet you myself." Naya took a seat next to Ethan. "Your mum is amazing, by the way. She took everything in her stride, a lot better than my mum."

"Did you keep his last name?"

"As if! There's no way I wanted to be associated with that asshole." She chuckled. "Naya Lounds." She stuck her hand out and Ethan shook it, smiling softly at her.

"So did he leave you too?" Ethan asked.

"Yup. After my mum found out that he had another son and she kicked him out. I don't remember much. I was like seven and all I could remember was the two of them yelling about some woman he had knocked up when I was two." Naya took a sip of her drink. "I saw him on birthdays  and shit until I was eighteen and then I told him that I never wanted to see his ass again."

"Oh, shit." Ethan chuckled dryly.

"So, do you have any stories about the old man?" Naya asked.

"Nothing really. Mum made it clear she wasn't having him around. He forgot my name and mum went ballistic!"

"Holy shit! What an asshole!" Naya chuckled. "Big up your mum though. She's got to be one of the strongest women I've ever met."

"She's the strongest." Ethan smiled.

"Ethan?" Josh called. "Mate, we're ditching this place and going to the pub across the street."

"Okay, just give me a second." Ethan smiled and quickly pulled out his phone. "Put your number in and we can talk about this more."

The friendship group waited outside for their friend. The tattooed man wandered out the door, smiling softly at the men.

"Get her number?" Simon commented, raising his eyes suggestively.

"It's not like that!" Ethan scoffed at his older friend. "She's family. Someone I haven't really known."

All his friends glanced at one and other trying to figure out what was going on. But, with the alcohol buzzing in their system, they shrugged it off and made their way to the next pub.

Over the next month and a half, the siblings quickly got to know each other, swapping stories from their childhood, explaining their jobs, and discussing their passions. They started to meet up weekly, text everyday. The two of them had lost so much and they were determined not to lose each other.

Then, Ethan realised he hadn't even told his closest friends about the new development in his life. So, he called Naya and told her to get ready to meet the six craziest people she'd ever meet.

So, the next week, Ethan placed the floor, biting his nails as his friends watched him from the couch.

"You have nothing to be nervous about," Josh said softly.

"Yeah, we're just meeting your friend, right?" Simon said. "I will say, this is a bit formal for us to meet a friend."

"I need to-" Ethan started and the doorbell echoed throughout the flat.

He bit his lip and walked over to the door, taking a deep breath before he opened it wide.

"Naya." He breathed out, pulling her into a hug.

"Hey. It's good to see you." Naya smiled, pulling away. "Are you friends here already?" 

"Yeah. They're in the living room." Ethan shut the door behind her and guided her to the living room.

"Boys, this is Naya." Ethan took a deep breath. "My sister."

There was a moment of silence as everyone tried to grasp the new information.

"Sister?" JJ sputtered.

"Well, half-sister, technically." Naya chuckled awkwardly. 

"I'm so confused," Harry muttered.

"It's nice to meet you guys, Ethan talks about you a lot. It's nice to put faces to names." Naya said kindly. "I know you must have a lot of questions and as I said to Ethan, I will happily answer them the best as I can."

"Your half-siblings?" Simon clarified. "Like through your dad or-"

"Yep," Naya said. "We have the same asshole dad."

Ethan laughed quietly.

"And how are we supposed to know that you aren't some crazy fan?" Josh asked, squinting.

"I've seen the birth certificate. And my mum confirmed it." Ethan explained. "I saw a photo of her and my dad."

"How long have you known that you were siblings?" Tobi asked

"Oh well, I found out a few years ago that I might have half-siblings but I never wanted to know about know my family through my dad. But I got curious and my mum had met Ruth through a friend and so I asked. And I put off meeting him for a long time, I didn't want to fuck up his life and I was worried he'd be like our dad." Naya shrugged slightly.

"Have you ever seen the video of Ethan smashing a controller into his desk when he got pissed off at a game?" JJ asked.

"No!" Naya barked out a laugh. "Please show me!"

"Or the time he almost broke his neck attempting a bicycle kick?" Harry exclaimed.

"Why didn't I know about these?" Naya laughed, shoving Ethan jokingly.

"That's not exactly the first impression I wanted to leave." Ethan snorted.

"Really? I think that's a really good way to know you." Naya argued jokingly.

"I like her already!" Tobi laughed loudly. 

"Aye, my sister is off-limits!" Ethan yelled and yeah, he could get used to saying that.

[baby-grayson]

Kind Stranger|Part 5|GBD

Read Part 1 Here Read Part 2 Here Read Part 3 Here 

 Read Part 4 Here Tags: @evergreendolan​ @someonetogray​ @vintagedolan​ @prettyboydolan​ @dolansficsandpics​ @graysavant​ @baby-turtles​

Kate’s eyes dubiously darted between the luxurious properties on the rich side of LA. When her phone pinged and told her she had made it to her destination, she swallowed hard. Her nerves about potentially hooking up with Grayson were replaced by new worries. Her fingers inched the steering wheel along a long, shrub lined driveway up to a bright white, huge house. Kate unplugged her phone from the center console in her car and sat back, she looked up to eye the house before going back to her phone to double check the address. It was right.

Suddenly, doubts filled her mind. Maybe Grayson sent her the wrong address? Maybe he lived with his parents? But he said he was from New Jersey. Maybe..well maybe… Kate’s eyes shot back and forth, taking in her scenery while thoughts raced through her mind. She noticed some movement in a second story window and realized she had been sitting in her car for too long. She forgot to check her hair before she gingerly stepped out of the car. She was a petite woman, but that moment made her feel small. She felt like Alice in Wonderland, like she ate something that shrunk her while the rest of the world grew. She slowly pushed one foot in front of the other and pulled herself to the front door.

Her worries were quelled slightly by the sight of Grayson’s bright smile through the glass in the front door. Grayson’s teeth nearly matched the color of white t-shirt, and even from a distance Kate could recognize the small gems on his incisors. She liked puzzles, and he was an enigma—a sweet enigma. Her sweet enigma swung the door open and greeted her with a warm hug that she gladly reciprocated. Grayson breathed it in again—that familiar sweet, citrus scent. As if on cue, both went back to the cabin of his van, with Grayson’s hand in her hair, and their lips softly attached.

Grayson pulled back from the hug, somewhat abruptly, not wanting to get lost in his physical excitement or indulgent emotions. He felt the heat in his face against the cold air-conditioned temperature of his entryway. “What’s up? I hope you’re hungry?” Grayson closed the front door behind her, not turning to maintain eye contact with her.  “I always am, did you order something?” Kate smiled brightly at him but did not move from where her feet were planted on the ground. “I made something,” Grayson grinned proudly and walked forward, silently urging her to follow.

Kate followed Grayson across the first floor of his house. The stone fireplace, high ceilings, and upscale decorations demanded something better than her tank top and shorts. She felt foreign here, as if she was taken out of her own life and placed here, a well-intentioned but confused visitor. Grayson had been speaking as he walked her through the house, but Kate was too busy ogling at her surroundings to focus on his words. Grayson led her to a small back patio with a table and chairs. Kate realized her cue to sit was when he pulled a single chair and held it out for her with his wide smile and perky cheeks.

Kate sat softly in the chair and laughed softly when he pushed her toward the table. She looked up at him from where she sat, his hands still on the crest of her chair. “This house… is it just you and your brother here?” Her mouth turned into a small gape of surprise when Grayson nodded, “Yeah, it’s just me and Ethan here.” She nodded softly while Grayson ran a hand through his hair. His gaze fell to the floor. He paused shortly before adding, “We’re renting this place. Our house is under construction right now.” Kate noticed his words get softer as he finished his sentence.

His eyes returned from the floor to find hers again, a nervous chill ran down his spine. His smile was unusually close lipped. “What do you want to drink?” Kate chuckled softly, “You’re a good host.” Grayson bowed his head softly, taking the compliment, before he winked subtly in her direction. He immediately wondered if people still winked at each other. “Can I just have a glass of water?” Grayson nodded, “Absolutely, I’ll be right back.”

Grayson stepped back into the house and Kate sat alone with her thoughts. Her mind wandered back to the house. How were Grayson and his brother able to afford to rent this? And buy another house? And why did he not want to talk about it? She felt like she wasn’t in on a joke. She felt like she had wandered into someone else’s territory. This wasn’t someone else’s territory; this was Grayson’s territory. The Grayson she met at the beach wouldn’t rent a mansion in the hills. Did this qualify as a mansion?

Before she could lose herself any further in her thoughts, Grayson walked through the backdoor carrying a tray with a glass of water, a can of diet root beer, two plates, a large bowl of salad. Kate shot up from her seat to take the plates from the tray and place them on the table. Grayson thanked her and placed the rest of their meal on the table. Sitting her seat, across from Grayson with a giant salad behind them, Kate felt confused. A hot guy invites her over when no one is home…to eat a salad with her. He was an enigma. “Do you cook often?” Does a salad count as cooking? It must when you’re talking to a guy like Grayson.

Grayson nodded while taking his portion, “Yeah, I’ve been cooking for me and my brother since we moved to LA.” God damn she looked pretty in the sunlight. Grayson watched the light dance on her eyes from across the table. “Is it fun for you? Do you try new things?” Kate filled her mouth after taking a mouthful of lettuce, appreciating the light summer breeze flowing through Grayson’s hair. She felt her heart smiled when his dimples showed up when he started to answer, his eyes turning up. “Yeah, I went vegan a few months ago. I’ve started tracking my nutrients and figuring out how to turn my favorite foods vegan. It’s so much easier than you’d think.” Kate let her lips slide into a mindless smile, basking in the light his heart gave off when he talked about something that really meant something to him. A person with passion was attractive. “So, you’re a vegan and you care deeply about your health,” Kate caressed the side of her water glass mindless, feeling the cold drops fall on her hot skin. “But you drink diet root beer?” She did not try to disguise the skepticism in his voice. “Yes I do!” Grayson’s voice rang in the backyard, exasperated. “It’s better than full sugar.” He held his can up near his face, in some sort of impromptu demonstration of nothing. He noticed Kate’s snicker and realized that once again, she was poking fun at him. He took a sip from the can and placed it down on the table. “I don’t quite know about that” her voice was made of equal parts playfulness and suspicion. “Well I know about it,” Grayson draped an arm around the back of his chair. “Not really,” Kate shook her head softly, “I’m the scientist,” she pointed to chest with a dainty finger, “I know about it.” She assured him confidently, Grayson had to dart his eyes back up to her face when she spoke to avoid looking at her chest. Grayson tried to think of a rebut to quip back but was disturbed by a rustle in the bushes. He and Kate turned their heads in sync to the back corner of the yard to discover Ethan carrying a bicycle across the fence line. Ethan looked up to make eye contact with both Grayson and his date, and immediately realized what he was walking in on. Momentarily, Ethan wondered if Grayson had told her already. Ethan leaned his bike against the side of the house and walked up to the table of lovebirds. Grayson internally swore at his brother and wondered how far Ethan would fly if Grayson threw him as hard as he could. Kate took a breath, stunned at just how ‘twin’ the twin brothers really were.

“I’m Ethan,” he nodded in Kate’s direction between glancing at his brother: recognizing that Grayson was dying slowly inside. “Kate,” she smiled politely up at him. Grayson slouched in his chair slightly, huffing small breaths and contemplating how much the strength of the wind would change Ethan’s flight pattern. “Sorry for disturbing you guys, I was just coming in from a bike ride,” his apologized to Kate but kept Grayson in the peripheral of his vision. “It’s fine,” Kate was sweet and reassuring. She was also pretty: Ethan could see why Gray liked her. Ethan felt the sweat drip down his face from his bike ride; he ran a hand through his hair to push it back, momentarily glancing at the ground. He stopped for a moment, noticing a throng of thick skin cover one of Kate’s ankles. Ethan’s brow furrowed as he took in a knot of scars wrapping around her left side. Kate sat straight up against the back of her chair and pushed her ankles underneath her chair, breaking Ethan’s gaze. She sucked in a harsh breath and looked at Gray while Ethan’s eyes fell on the pair again. Grayson’s embarrassment was growing at an exponential rate. “We were actually just finished eating,” Grayson stood up from his seat, “Why don’t you help me bring the plates inside Ethan?” Grayson gritted his teeth into something like a smile, hoping his twin understood he was being told to do it, not asked. The pair started clearing the table when Kate asked, “Do you have a bathroom I could use?” “Take a left at the kitchen and then it’s the second door on the right.” Grayson’s normal, low but sweet voice returned.

Kate wandered back into the house, looking a bathroom. She stopped at the kitchen island, noticing a video camera and small microphone sitting on the surface. She looked up again and noticed the same massive stone fireplace, looming over her from the dining table. Peering closer, she noted a couple of tripods leaning against the corner of the dining room. She followed Grayson’s directions to the hallway, where she noticed a couple of camera bags strewn on the floor.

“How could I tell her when you were staring like that?” Grayson gritted his teeth and waved his hands at his brother. “I’m sorry but how can you not expect me to stare when her leg looks like that? I feel bad but it’s true.” Ethan retorted. Grayson groaned lowly, crossed his arms, and leaned back against the counter. “Why is it like that?” Ethan’s voice no longer held the accusatory tone. “I don’t know,” Grayson looked down at the floor, “I keep wanting to ask her. I mean” he signed and shrugged, “I know she has a problem; I just don’t know what it is.”

Kate stepped into the kitchen to view this scene: a disheveled, discouraged Grayson and a sweaty, antagonistic Ethan. Kate smiled softly when Grayson looked up to see her, a matching expression forming on his face. Feeling, once again, like he was in someone else’s spaces, Ethan politely stepped out of the room. “Everything okay with you two?” Kate hesitantly stepped toward Grayson’s place at the counter.

Grayson nodded unconvincingly, “Yeah, everything’s aright.” “I know you said you guys fight a lot—” “—I have something to tell you” “oh,” Kate’s mouth fell and she swallowed slowly. Grayson’s palms felt a layer of sweat drape over them as his heartbeat heightened. He took a deep breath, but his thoughts were interrupted by Kate’s words, “I know.” Grayson’s eye brows raised as his jaw fell slightly, “You know?” his heart beat slowed but the sweat from his skin continued to drain into his palms. Kate took her own deep breath and nodded slowly. She could not bare to look at him, so she picked a banana in the fruit bowl on the counter and stared plainly at it as she rambled, “I know. Or at least. I think I know. And it’s okay. It really is. I get it. It’s LA. I’m not in Philly anymore. This place is different. You’re different. But you’re nice. And I like you. And I think this could go somewhere. And I don’t know really know what I think of it. But I guess I’m open to it. You’re sweet. I never thought I’d end up with… It’s just new for me.” Grayson’s left eye brow raised slightly, staring at her intently as she continued to talk to a bowl of fruit. His heart nearly fell to a complete stop when the next words came out of her mouth. “I know you’re a porn star.” She breathed out quickly and swallowed, “I just can’t figure out…is Ethan involved?” 

Grayson’s jaw gaped open. His eyes darted around the room, while thoughts raced around his brain. The air around his face grew stagnant while he tried to find words. Kate’s gaze shifted from the banana to Grayson and back to the banana. She felt her face go warm and bit her lip hard, looking back up at Grayson. Grayson felt his body go cold and mustered out the brain power to say, “No.” Kate angled her face, pulling back slightly.

“Um.. we’re not pornstars.” Grayson started plainly, breathing in between each word. He felt like he was choosing each word as it was coming out of his mouth, a slow and painful way of delivering news. “We’re Youtubers. We make videos.  We have been for nearly six years now. We have like 11 million fans on YouTube.  So yeah not porn…but you weren’t that far off, I guess…” Grayson found his own eyes latched onto the banana in the fruit bowl.

The air stood in the room. Kate’s brain couldn’t think straight when all of the blood rushed to her cheeks. Grayson’s grip on the counter tightened while his back teeth chattered. Kate shifted her weight from one foot to another, raising her gaze to look back at Grayson while he started to speak again, “I wanted to tell you. So you could maybe look it up for yourself. So, you could have a chance to figure things out for yourself before anything really …happened…. between….us…”. Grayson struggled to remember the reasons Ethan had preached at him last weekend.   Kate nodded slowly and met his eyes when Grayson finally looked up at her. His eyes were darker than usual, like their light had partially gone out. His face fell, where his cheeks usually balled up under his eyes. Grayson’s own brain nearly committed a mutiny. There he was, standing in his kitchen with a pretty girl. A nice girl. A smart girl. A great girl. And he couldn’t enjoy it because he had to stand in an awkward silence and explain what he did for a living. He was a normal guy. A normal 20-year-old dude who should be able to meet a normal girl without these problems. “Thanks for telling me,” Kate’s voice was soft. Her face matched the color of strawberries. “Maybe it’s best I go home, but I’ll um… I’ll look that stuff up and I’ll let you know what I think?” She wasn’t even sure what that meant, just that leaving that kitchen felt like the necessary course of action. Grayson cleared his throat and nodded. He stood up straight, taking his hands off the counter and crossing them. “That sounds good, feel free to let me know when you want to ...um do something again.” This was pathetic. He was pathetic. He had so much time to practice this and THIS is the best he could come up with. An awkward kitchen with a lack luster promise of another date.

Kate drove home in a daze. The highway must have taken her home because she did not have the mental capacity to process the kitchen debacle. She accused her gorgeous of date of being a porn star in his own home. Dread filled the pit of her stomach, sloshing around as she walked through her front door.

She grabbed her computer out of her backpack and opened it up. She searched his name, and despite his words, she was surprised at the amount of hits popping up. Maybe this was just something people did in LA? Maybe everyone was just an internet person? Kate thought about what would happen if she googled the guy who worked at the deli down the street, or the woman living downstairs. Are they internet personalities too? In the midst of her daze, Kate did what Ph.D. students do best: research.

She watched, read, and listened to all things Dolan until the sun went down. Her reaction happened in waves. At first, she laughed. She watched a young Grayson, with a much different haircut bounce around her screen. She met a younger Grayson and a mop-headed Ethan with a streak of colored hair. They look like the rejected members of One Direction. She felt slightly proud, Grayson was clearly a good person—or at least online Grayson was a good person. He was noncontroversial, funny, and wholesome.

The amount of content started to get under her skin. She found a documentary for his late father. She didn’t even know his father had passed. Grayson never mentioned it. She shifted and scrolled back farther, wanting to avoid anything person. The attempt was futile, shortly after the landed herself on a video of Grayson describing in detail how he bullied during his first few months of high school. Kate recoiled on her couch. She had been ridiculed in high school. As girl growing up in West Philly, an affiliation for books and facts didn’t produce many friends. She turned to Google, only to find an even more tangled web of disturbing rumors, speculation, and conspiracy theories.

Her stomach turned. Did Grayson want her to find this? Is that what he meant? Did he want her to know everything? If he wanted to open up to her, he could have just told her… But maybe this is how it’s done in LA? Her skin felt dirty. Her mind felt dirty. This was wrong. You don’t just research everything about someone else…She closed her computer and stuffed it back into her backpack.

She dug her phone out of her purse for the first time since coming home to see at three missed calls from Grayson. On the other side of LA, Grayson was obsessing over saying the wrong thing. He felt like he had pushed her away. His stomach knotted in confusion, concern, and anguish when she left. In the time she was gone, the knot only grew heavier. Grayson felt like he lost something he never had. He called her, expecting to get her voicemail again. He had written down what he wanted to say, a small message to say he wanted to know everything was okay and to let him know when she could. The knot in his stomach tightened when she picked up the phone. “Hello?” Her voice was soft like a summer breeze but weighed down by the sadness in the back of her mind. “Hi Kate,” Grayson’s voice was shaky on the phone. He quickly crumped his pathetic excuse of a script up and swallowed hard. Kate closed her eyes on the other end, feeling terrible for whatever emotional position Grayson was in right now. Kate only picked up the phone to quell the storm brewing inside of Grayson. But now that they were listening to each other’s voices, neither one knew how to give or get what they were looking for. “Are you okay?” Grayson started, “I know this must be a lot to take in” Yeah that wasn’t bad. Maybe he wasn’t going to completely fuck this up. “I’m…..” Intimidated? Lost? Scared? Confounded? Dizzied? “Confused” she decided on. “I guess. I uh wasn’t sure what you wanted me to see or not. There’s so much out there Grayson.” Grayson swallowed hard, his heart diving into the knot in his stomach when she spoke his name. Wasn’t it just last night that she spoke his name and made his heart flutter like a thousand butterflies escaping a paper bag. “I know there is. Six years is a long time,” he bit his lip, “Just uh—know that I’m here when you’re ready… to talk or to ask, whatever I can do to help this makes sense.” To help me make sense. “Will do,” Kate took in a breath that Grayson could hear over the phone. “I won’t be a stranger.” Grayson’s heart perked up slightly but fell again when he heard the dial tone as she hung up. His head hung low, feeling as thought the world had just proved him wrong. Was Grayson Dolan a normal guy? Could he not separate himself from his online presence? On the opposite side of LA, Kate’s heart hung low in her chest. She tossed her phone to the side and laid on her couch. She watched her ceiling fan spin, feeling dizzied both inside and out. She decided taking a shower would clear her head and help her get some sleep at night. Sleep was the last thing on Grayson’s mind. Grayson grabbed the keys to his Porsche before he could develop a real plan. He felt the feelings of self-doubt continue to grow in his stomach. He broke the speed limit on the freeway, a part of him thinking that if he could defy tangible rules then maybe the feeling in his stomach would stop taking hold in his brain. Every piece of his body, mind, and heart were fighting to decide on how to best approach this. Should he apologize? Should he talk her through the past six years? Should he blame Ethan for telling him to tell her? Before he knew it, Grayson found himself at Kate’s front door. He knocked, assertively, and let the warm, California nighttime air fill his lungs. She opened the door, and Grayson began speaking the second he heart the door hinges squeak. “I was wrong. I was wrong to tell you like that. I was wrong to lie to you, kind of, that day , at the aquarium. I was wrong to not give you more information. I was wrong to just send you on your way like that. Like I expected you to know what to do with that information. I don’t even know what you were supposed to do. But Ethan said that you should know before things get too far. But I really like you and …you’re…so—” Grayson’s mouth fell open slightly when he fully recognized the image in front of him.

He stared at her, mouth agape. Her petite shoulders were dripping water onto her towel, that was slowly becoming more soaked. Her small frame was only covered by a white, terry cloth tower. Her dark hair looked nearly black when wet. Her collar bone and cleavage were exposed to him. Her big brown eyes looked up at him, dewier and kinder than ever before. Her small pink mouth sat pursed and pensive on her face. Grayson drank her in. The knot in his stomach gave way. He gazed up at her big brown eyes and then back at her perfect, pink mouth. And before he knew what he was doing, he pulled her in. He cupped her face in his hands and moved his lips down to meet hers. They crashed together. He kissed her hungrily, not caring about the growing desire in his pants from not touching a woman in months. Unlike their last kiss, she did not pull away softly and quickly. Her lips reached for Grayson’s almost as fervidly as his sought hers. One of his traveled down to wrap around her waist, wanting to hold her tiny being as close against him as possible. No longer having to hold her towel up, one of her free hands pulled at the hair on the nape of his neck, demanding he come down further to meet her. Her other hand fingered his jaw and his neck. Her head tilted more to give him more access to her mouth as he began to explore her lips with his tongue. For the second time that day, his heartbeat overcame him. But this time, he didn’t care. He drank her in. Intoxicated by the idea that a normal guy could find a normal girl, and maybe they could be something. Something like a sweet enigma.

[damndaehyung]

Lying is the most fun...

Tyler Lee can have without taking his clothes off. JTMD AU Included : Tyler, Minah, Sungjae Mentioned: Daniel, Jaehyun 

Tyler Lee was many things. Depending on who you asked, he could be a legend or piece of crap. But there is one thing that he is not and that is a quitter. Admittedly Daniel Choi was proving to trickier than he expected, he assumed that like most of the girls Tyler had charmed all he had to do was showing him so attention to get him under his spell but Daniel Choi seemed to be immune to him, he thought coming out of a breakup Daniel would be easy pickings but if anything it seemed to make even harder to get, Tyler even showed his abs and there was nothing but jibe about them painted on. He had spent so much time with the guy that he should, in theory, be proclaiming his love for Tyler but all he got was a text saying congratulations you reached friendship level 8 you can now message me memes. It was frustrating to say the very least, he was Tyler Lee after all. What annoyed him even more though was this leaking tap of emotions, the tiny drip telling him what he was doing wrong. He had theorized it was because in another time and place they, Daniel and himself, could actually be real friends, a hopeful voice seemed to suggest they still could, Daniel doesn’t have to know about the bet and he would eventually get over him. It would take time, Tyler was not exactly easy to get over but perhaps in time.

“Are you finished?” he was bought out his thoughts but a very annoyed barista staring down at him.

“Excuse you,” Tyler snorted rolling his eyes. “Didn’t they teach you at busboy training not to be rude to a customer,” he snapped. “But since you are here, I need a refill,” he said, tapping his mug condescendingly. This boy should know his place, coming up to him like that and bugging him, if he was finished he would have left and had he left? No.

“Or you can just leave and never come back,” the boy said. Tyler opened his mouth to respond only to be cut off. “Look this cafe is busy enough to survive without Tyler Lee’s money,” he said. Tyler snorted, that is what that idiot though if Tyler blacklisted this stupid little cafe it would be done for.

“Listen here,” he said looking at the guy’s name tag. “Sungjae-” he said, eyes widening as a thought ran through his head. This was Daniel’s ex, how the hell did this guy manage to pull Daniel? Wait no that didn’t matter but it certainly explained a lot no wonder Daniel wasn’t falling for him, he probably figured a guy like Tyler was so far out of his league that he had no chance. “Wait do you know Daniel Choi?”

Sungjae blinked, thrown by the change in topic. “Not that it’s any of your business but yes,” he said looking at Tyler curiously. “Don’t mess with him,” he said, curiosity turning into anger. Tyler rolled his eyes, he was one of those exes, dumps you but still acts as though they care. How annoying. No wonder Daniel was having trouble getting over him, he was just confused, probably thought he still had a chance.

“Look i get he is your ex -”

“What are you talk-” Sungjae started to speak only to be cut off by Minah Delacroix coming over wrapping an arm around Sungjae.

“Hey Babe,” she said to Sungjae who looked surprised. Tyler raised his eyebrow at Minah’s obvious and desperate attempt at making him jealous. “M needs you out back,” she said to Sungjae, the boy just nodded walking away with a frown on his face.

“What was that?” Tyler said with a laugh. “If that is your rebound, Minah, love, you can do a lot better,” Tyler smirked.

“Shut up Lee,” Minah snapped. “Sungjae isn’t a rebound,” she said. “He is my boyfriend.” Tyler chuckled a yeah okay slipping out of his lips. Did she really expect him to believe that? “Look I know it’s hard for you to understand but sometimes people have a real connection and that is what we have, it’s nice to have a boyfriend who actually appreciates me and not just when i’m riding him in the back of the locker room,” she snapped.

“You done?” Tyler smirked. “And bold of you to assume I appreciated you then,” he said with a wink. Minah's eyes narrowed as she purposely stomped on his toes. Tyler let out a yelp moving his foot away as it throbbed, glaring at a smirking Minah as she retreaded back to the counter and her ‘boyfriend’.

Tyler watched knowing that this relationship was fake, but as he thought it over he knew he could use it. The girlfriend that dumped him dating Daniel’s beloved ex. Oh, this was perfect, he just needed to get some proof. It would all be so easy for him now, the concerned friend being the bearer of bad news telling, no showing him proof that his ex had moved on. As cool as Daniel pretended to be if he was crying in a restaurant over this guy then this would be a killing blow and Tyler would be his rock, helping him move forward. He would be at his most supportive, his most charming, most loveable.

That emotion leak started dripping as he thought of purposely hurting Daniel only to build him up and then break him again. It was cruel even by his standards.

text from jaehuh :

‘looks like you are losing touch. can’t wait to win this bet.’

But Tyler Lee was an overachiever after all.

With a smirk, he stood up walking deliberately to the counter where Minah stood having a heated exchange with Sungjae. God, they were so obvious, he hoped Minah was petty enough to pull off what he needed otherwise he would need a plan B. “I am finished now since someone didn’t want to give me my refill, you know Min you should talk to your boyfriend about his customer service because it's not up to par,” Tyler said pointedly,

“Did you really come over here just to say that?” Sungjae said, looking far from impressed. “Don’t you have another whore to hook up with?”

“I do,” Tyler nodded a laugh escaping his lips. “Maybe I’ll hook up with your ex, you know since you are having my sloppy seconds,” he said with a smirk enjoying the way Minah bristled at his words.

“Stop trying to upset my boyfriend,” Minah snapped. “Bringing up his ex isn’t going to ruin our relationship. In fact, I feel sorry for Daniel if he has to deal with your and the community bicycle you call a penis,” she said with a huff.

“Minah can you please stop pretending you are dating this loser, it’s unbecoming of you,” he said, pretending to be disappointed. “You could have at least picked a better actor. This guy looks like he is completely lost,” he said nudging his chin towards Sungjae. “Hey idiot, as you can tell the only way you could ever girls like that,” he said pointing to Minah, “is when guys like me dump her and she has to pretend she has moved on,” he said chuckling. “It’s pathetic,”

“Don’t call him a loser,” “Do you really talk to women like that? What’s your problem?” The loser ‘couple’ said at the same time.

“Fine prove me wrong guys, kiss each other like you mean it,” He said, throwing the challenge down.

“We don’t have hmph,” Sungjae started to speak until Minah pulled him into a kiss. Tyler rolled his eyes as he pulled his camera filming the couple. To his surprise, it seemed like the couple forget they were pretending because the next thing he knew Sungjae was pressing Minah against the counter, her leg wrapping around his waist. This was even better than he expected, he figured it would be an awkward kiss but he knew Minah loved to put on a show, with a chuckle he threw a fifty on the counter as a thank you for their show and their participation in Tyler Lee’s seduction of Daniel Choi. Turning his camera off and walking away from the pair.

“Hey Daniel,” Tyler said as he walked out of the cafe, he made sure he sounded troubled. “Are you busy?” he asked, nodding along to Daniel’s speech on how Salvador Dali was overrated. “Yeah no i really need to talk to you, i have some bad news -” he said. “No no nothing like that,” oddly touched that Daniel was worried something happened to him. “Look can we meet up? Do you know Ridleys? Meet me there in half an hour,” Tyler said with a smirk. There was nothing that went with a heartbreak quite like alcohol. “See you soon,” he said hanging up and replaying the video, a wide grin on his face. Oh, this bet was over but it wouldn’t be Jaehyun winning.

[rambling-at-midnight]

Inferno: Part 2

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

I’m not sure how long I’ll make this... maybe three or four parts?

If you’d like to be added to my Peter Parker, Marvel, or Inferno Taglist, let me know!

You storm into the compound, not even noticing the ground cracking where you stomp your feet, and fling your bag, which is filled entirely with clothes, away from you with so much force that it hits the concrete wall and makes a dent.

“What the hell was that?” your father slams the door shut.

“You know exactly what!” you yell back, pointing a finger at him when he takes an angry step forward. “The boy you spend my entire captivity gushing about—the boy that’s never been to prison, the boy that hasn’t killed anyone yet—you bring him with you to pick me up? Me, your biological child—”

“I wanted you to be friends!” Tony roars. “God forbid I try to put you out of your comfort zone, Y/N! I get that you’re angry, and I’m sorry you were stuck in that awful place for so long but I was fighting the whole time for you to be free!”

“You took me nowhere when I was free!” you scream back, feeling your fists heat when you clench them and your face heat as well. “You bragged about me to nobody because you’re ashamed of me, and don’t admit it! Now you’ve found the perfect straight-A kid and what, you bring him everywhere? I bet he’s gone on vacation with you to Hawaii, right? You even brought him to pick up your delinquent child like you’re showing her off like a prize pony at a show!”

Tony kicks a chair. It skids across the room and into the far wall. “I wasn’t showing you off at all! I wanted to help you adjust after a year of captivity! I didn’t think—”

“You didn’t think about me!” you bellow. “You never have, because I wasn’t something that you got to choose, but you chose precious Peter Parker and that makes him perfect, huh? I bet you take Peter Parker on vacations and talk about him to all your rich friends and you never mention poor charity case Y/N Stark, the criminal vigilante!”

His face red, Tony roars, “Do you want me to talk about you with my friends? What do you want me to talk about, Y/N? ‘Hey, Rhodey, let’s talk about Y/N, whose mother kept her a secret her entire life—’”

“Don’t you dare talk about my mother!” You point a flaming finger at him, not even recognizing the heat. You suppose that’s what happens after a year of numbness. All the emotions come rushing out at once.

“I am not replacing you with Peter Parker, Y/N,” Tony says, softer now, and it makes you even angrier. What right does he have to be quiet when everything inside of you is raging?

“You’re right,” you say sarcastically. “He’s not my replacement. He’s your do-over. Well, have fun with that, Tony,” you spit. “I’ll get my delinquent ass out of your hair. Maybe I’ll go meet up with Cap, won’t that be fun?” It’s an empty threat; Cap doesn’t like you after you’d almost torched his ass for beating up your father in Siberia and you don’t like him that much either. He’d always been too... uppity.

I bet Peter’s uppity, you think derogatorily, and almost feel bad. It’s not Peter’s fault that your father’s an ass.

“Do you want me to talk about you?” Tony asks, a little desperately. “I’ll talk about you right now. Do you want me to use the Instagram you made me? I’ll put it on a story right now.”

“I don’t want anything from you,” you hiss. “I want you to leave me the hell alone. God knows I heard enough talking from you from the past year to last me a lifetime.” You storm out of the room. For some reason your eyes are stinging.

“Do you want me to take you on a trip?” Tony calls after your retreating back. “We can go anywhere, Y/N! Please, come back and we can talk about this!”

That was definitely one of the worse fights you’ve had with your father. He wants so badly to please, but he’s also prideful and stubborn, and so are you. You’re bound to clash heads a few times. And shoving you into a loud, cramped helicopter after about a year of almost solitary confinement didn’t help matters.

You didn’t want to be angry with your father. You wanted so bad to be happy to see him, because you do know that he feels bad that you were locked up and he couldn’t do anything about it. And you do love him. But you haven’t been anything but angry ever since you realized that they were locking you up unfairly. And now that you can’t get in trouble for heating up, there’s no reason to bottle your anger up.

You’re going to catch a few criminals.

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

You know who Spider-man is. Obviously. You weren’t allowed to log into your own social media accounts, but you weren’t completely cut off from the world. So yes, you’ve heard all about the masked web-slinger, even if he’d only barely emerged before Germany and hadn’t operated in your same area of New York. You’ve seen videos of him doing his thing on the internet. He seems like a cool dude, if a bit naive. He takes churros from old ladies and helps people recover their stolen bicycles. He says hi to people and does backflips to show off to those who ask for it. He seems like an all-around upstanding guy.

You weren’t expecting to see him, although perhaps you should have anticipated that after the initial hordes of fans excited to see that you’ve been released. You’re sure there will be thousands of theories floating around the internet until your father releases the initial statement. Maybe they’ll think you escaped from the prison. Maybe they’ll think you killed all the guards in order to escape. Maybe they think you’re on the run now.

Besides, he seems to operate in the skies, and you prefer to keep your feet on the ground.

Either way, Spider-man stands in front of you now, extending his hand. You reach out to take it back but he recoils and you see why; you’re still glowing with heat.

Your face goes red (with a blush, not heat) as you shake out your hand and then take his firm grip.

“Are you good?”

You take a look around at the various bodies on the ground and shrug. What was sure to be a gruesome scene is still a gruesome scene, but in a different way. The bodies of four men lie on the ground. Spider-man took out two of them with his webs and you took out the other two by shattering one’s kneecap and severely burning the other’s arm after he shot you. You’d already been having a bad day, so who can blame you for grabbing him with a red-hot hand?

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you say briskly. The wound hurt for barely a second before your skin closed around the bullet, as it tends to do. Walking back to the compound will surely be a pain in the ass, and so will doctors cutting you open to fish around in your guts for the metal bullet, but it’s better than bleeding out. You quickly pull your shirt up, exposing unmarred skin. “See?” You tap the tender bump near your hip bone and grit your teeth with pain. The bone must have stopped the bullet. “It’s right there.” If only you’d had enough warning to harden your skin.

“Thank you so much,” the girl you’d saved says breathlessly. She clutches her purse to her chest and, despite what had nearly happened to her, seems no worse for the wear. To the contrary, she looks at you and Spider-man with a near-hero worship. “I can’t believe I just got saved by Inferno and Spider-man.”

“Do you want an escort home?” Spider-man asks, making you blink with surprise. You’d never thought before to walk the people you save home. He really is a nice dude.

The girl shakes her head. “My Uber is here.” She points behind her. “Thank you so much again, though!”

You wave good-bye to her and take a step back, ready to start your trek back to the compound, but the bullet grinds against your bone and you grit your teeth to keep from screaming.

“I’m pretty sure that having a bullet in your skin is not ‘fine’,” Spider-man says gently. “I’ve got a first-aid kit back at my place, if you want—”

“Really, I’m fine,” you wave him off. You’ve had worse. Much, much worse. “It was cool to meet you, though.” You awkwardly dip your head at him. “You’re pretty cool, Spider-man.”

Spider-man snorts.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing, it’s just...” he brings his hand up to his mask and almost looks like he’s going to pull it off. “Well, if you knew who I am under this mask, you wouldn’t say that.” His hand drops back to his side.

You shrug. “Then keep wearing the mask. I doubt I know you, anyway; New York is pretty big. You might know my identity, but I’m not pressed with burning curiosity to know yours.” At least, you hadn’t. If running into Spider-man becomes a regular occurrence, you might become more curious. “Besides, I think I’d still think you pretty cool. You’re a superhero, aren’t you?”

“Look, I really don’t feel cool with you walking home on your leg—”

Your voice has a hard edge when you insist, “I’m fine. Really. But maybe I’ll see you around?” There is a disgusting hopeful note when you ask that, and you curse yourself for sounding desperate.

“Definitely.” Spider-man nods and you’ll be damned if you can’t hear a smile in his voice. He takes a step back and trips over a trash can, landing hard on his ass, and you cover your smile with your hand in order to preserve his dignity. “I—I’ll just—I’m going.” He flips to his feet and waves like a dork at you. You wave back and he jumps onto the side of the building to your right. It takes you aback; seeing his powers on YouTube is very different than seeing them in real life.

When he’s at the top, Spider-man peers over the edge of the building and waves at you a second time, making you realize that you’d been watching him climb. “Are you sure—”

“Bye!”

Inferno Taglist:

@paullrud @eridanuswave @loveissupernatural @moistpotatobear

Peter Parker x Reader Taglist:

@iconicbabesss

Forever Taglist:

@lemirabitur @annymcervantes @queenmissfit @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @iksey @thehyperactiveteen

[f-a-n-d-o-o-m]

A new mask - part 1

Inspired by this prompt.

Miraculous Ladybug.

There are so many moments that divide our life. So many choices, so many decisions, so many seconds and so many memories. Some are much bigger than others.

Most people assume mine would be when I first pulled the mask over my eyes; maybe when I first started swinging. They would be wrong. The main moments that split my life? That divided it into before and after? They were words. Three words in fact. A screamed 'NO', marking the end of the first chapter. A small smile and an 'okay' beginning the next. And a whispered ‘Adrien’ ending one chapter and beginning the next, wrapped up in a single word.

-

Marinette slid her books into her bag, and zipped it up. Around her, her classmates did the same, and a dull wave of chatter filled the classroom, including the voice of Alya.

“And the video I posted of Ladybug using her latest suit is still nowhere as popular as the one where she hits Chat Noir with a fly swat, but I think it’ll get there.”

Marinette nodded, and swung her bag onto her shoulder. “Well, your camera has improved since then,” She gestured at the fancy phone Alya had gripped in her hands, “But there was something about their faces in the flyswat video. I don’t know if you’ll ever beat it.”

Alya laughed. “I get that… But one day I will. Just watch me!”

Marinette nodded, but very quickly looked away. “Bye Adrien!” She called, as the blond haired boy hurried out of the classroom door. He jumped, and turned around. Sheepishly, he waved at his friend, then continued out the door.

Alya rolled her eyes. “Come on, it’s so obvious you’ve got a crush on him.”

Marinette snorted. “Come on, we’re just friends.”

“Mm hm.” Alya looked pointedly at her bestie.

“Oh come on!” Marinette rolled her eyes. They’d had this argument many times before, and the outcome was always the same. No point in going through it yet again. “We only have a page to read for homework. Thank goodness, because as of next week we are officially in exam week.” They started walking out of the school.

Alya groaned. “Today is the last day before a weekend of study…”

“Then a week of study.”

“Then a week of study!” Alya agreed, as she waved her arms into the air. “Honestly, why do they have to make the work so hard!”

“Hmm…” Marinette pretended to consider the question. “Maybe it’s because we go to a super fancy, super expensive unless you get a scholarship, technology school for students ahead of their time?”

Alya chuckled, which faded into a groan. “But if there’s anything our classwork has taught me, it’s that I am not smart. Like, at all!”

Marinette was about to point out how Alya was a lot smarter than she let herself take credit for. Alya had made most of the adjustments on her phone’s camera herself despite several warnings from the school that pulling apart the ridiculously expensive phone would end the warranty on it early. It paid off though, and now she had a camera that never seemed to take a blurry photo, no matter how quickly her and Chat Noir moved when they fought each other.

“Marinette! Look!” Alya grabbed her best friend's arm, and pointed to where a black figure could be seen leaping over a building. “I have got to film this! I might have to miss a bunch of battles during exam week, I’ve gotta get some now!”

“Then go!” Marinette urged. Sure enough, her friend took off, running in the same direction the black character jumped.

The fact that Alya always hurried off to film the hero-villains of Paris had the benefit of halving the number of excuses Marinette needed to create. As it was, she simply ducked behind the stairs of her school, and pulled out her suit from her school bag.

It was easy to shimmy out of her loose-fitting dress. She’d taken to wearing bicycle shorts and a black singlet under all her clothes pretty quickly after adopting her superhero name, so she didn’t feel too awkward- she was out of view of everyone anyway, but there was something reassuring about still wearing clothes even if they were way more showy than anything she’d normally wear. The suit slipped on easily. It was made out of this lightweight, white fabric she’d then dyed red and black. It had been hard work, but the slight spiral pattern each black dot had gave the suit a flair of being unique. Finally, she dug out the mask.

Though her suit changed fairly regularly, each time she got a new idea for some technology or design, once she decided on a mask it stayed the same. It covered the top of her head and face but not her nose, mouth, or the bottom of her cheeks. At the back was a simple strip of black elastic to hold it in place but let her hair stick out. At first she’d kept her hair stuck down her suit, but it began to itch, causing the change in design.

She pulled the yoyo off her waist, and used it to throw herself into the air, high above all of the buildings, and as soon as she could she released her hands to change her pigtails into a short braid. She’d gotten pretty good at braiding when she realised how tangled her hair could get when she was, well (a smile reached her face as this thought reached her) being a superhero.

-

When Chat Noir was first spotted, it had been the start of a school year. He was doing what soon became his regular shtick- robbing (or failing to rob) a ridiculous place. First, it was the Louvre. Go big or go home, probably, or definitely because that’s what he’d told her when she’d brought it up. He’d actually been stopped by the police that time, leaving him to run away in his ridiculous suit. It had made the news, Alya’s video of him running away from their batons. Anyway, he’d been so much of a comic book villain that she thought it would be a bit of fun, you know, to design a comic book hero. It was only meant to be the suit that she’d design, but when she been messing around with her yoyo in the school’s workshop two days later she’d found that if she replaced its string with this new, stretchy, squishy material, then she could probably use it to throw herself over a building.

And, well, the moment that thought occurred to her, she had to try it.

The answer was yes, which was exciting.

At first she was only swinging through Paris like Spiderman in a Ladybug-themed suit for the workout. No, stop laughing, she was serious- gym memberships were expensive and the city was like a giant gym! Sure, she was considered ‘trespassing’, so she needed to wear a mask, but it was worth it.

Then when Chat Noir reappeared, a week after his last appearance, he had a baton all of his own. He actually spent 20 minutes showing this to the police officers- not fighting them, just showing how it extends, and how he can balance on top of it. Marinette turned up right as he did that, leaving them awkwardly staring at each other, one from on top of a silver stick and one dangling from her yoyo from a building.

“So, uh,” Chat Noir said. “Are you a superhero here to stop me, or do you also want to rob the Louvre?”

And Marinette obviously couldn’t say she was going to rob the Louvre, so the next thing she knew her and Chat Noir were fighting.

She had no training fighting, at all, but Chat Noir had forgotten how to shrink his baton so she held her own until he gave up and hurried away. Marinette actually felt pretty proud of herself, so she watched him go, grinning slightly. That was until one of the police officers walked up to her and asked for her name.

“I, uh-” She stumbled over her words, until finally she landed on “Ladybug.”.

Not the most dramatic origin story (I wore a mask because I was trespassing, and I beat the bad guy because his weapon broke), but soon she and Chat Noir began having their ‘fights’ regularly. Marinette was pretty sure she’d become quite good at fighting, as well, because now their fights were actually fights! To be honest, she actually looked forward to them, because it was a work-out, which her parents had drilled into her head was very important for mental health, and because the jokes between her and Chat were fun. She enjoyed herself. To be honest, she didn’t see what all the fuss was about in the comics- Chat Noir rarely tried to pick a fight during school hours, it was easy to keep a secret identity from Alya because her friend always ran off first, and it was fun swinging above buildings.

-

“Chat Noir!” She called, when she reached what turned out to be a bank. The villain was wearing a clunky black suit, which had advanced since his first appearance just like hers had.

“Ladybug!” He responded, and stood up from where he was sitting on top of the bank’s roof. “Are you going to try to stop me?”

“Of course!” Ladybug walked dramatically towards him, the wind blowing in her hair.

“Well then,” Chat Noir smoothly used his baton to meet her on the ground. “I guess that means we have to fight.”

Ladybug started swinging her yoyo in a circle, then they ran at each other. Chat Noir extended his baton towards her head, so she spun on her toe, then threw the yoyo at Chat’s foot. When it caught it, she pulled and sent him to the ground, but he rolled with it and pulled her over too. They lay on the ground for a moment, then Chat muttered, “That must have looked so cool.” Ladybug grinned.

“Not as cool as this.”

She leaped to her feet without using her arms, then threw her yoyo at Chat’s arm. He yanked his arm out of the way, pulled himself to his feet, and ran at her again, this time pole vaulting over the red hero. In the air, he used his baton like a sword, and swung it at her. She dodged it, and ran up to Chat. She pulled her arm back to throw a punch, when a loud explosion made both characters freeze. Very slowly, she turned to face the bank behind her.

The front doors had been blown open, and smoke billowed out. From the smoke, a figure dressed in a dark purple and silver metal suit emerged. It looked very dramatic, and as Marinette focused that, the figure started running. It wasn’t very fast, probably because of the four, large, brown sacks thrown over its shoulders.

Suddenly, Marinette jerked to life, and she threw her yoyo at the figure. It struck one of his bags, which slipped from his grasp. When it hit the ground, money rolled out of it like water. The figure, which definitely looked more masculine so Marinette decided to start calling it a him, glanced at it, then at the hero. Marinette pulled her yoyo back, then threw it forward again. He took a step to the side, didn’t even bother spinning to avoid it, just stepped to the side and the yoyo landed on the concrete. Marinette swallowed.

A loud roar hit her ears, and the figure started lifting off the ground. It must have something in the feet of its suit, because he quickly took to the air, and disappeared from sight.

There was a pause, in which both Marinette and Chat were silent, then she rounded on the black cat next to her.

“You have a sidekick now!” She roared.

Chat Noir’s eyes were wide. He swallowed. “I- no- I don’t know who that was!”

“Right.” Ladybug snorted.

“No, seriously, I have no idea who that was.” Chat Noir argued. “Look-” He glanced to the side. Alya had appeared, and was steadily creeping forward, wielding her camera which suddenly seemed less exciting now that it was picturing the hero standing next to the villain, money spilt on the ground, looking at where the clearly bad guy had got away. “We should go. I promise, I had nothing to do with that, Ladybug.”

And the cat was off, disappearing into the day like he always does; only tripping once or twice.

[adevotedappraisal]

Short Story: Gershom, part two of two

The conclusion of Gershom, a memorable day in the life of the most famous anti-hero in Barbados, one Winston Hall. Enjoy.

 Gershom part two (the night-duppies)

 by Christopher White

Robert mekking good stew now. He should be cutting them carrots in the pot now. Sometimes I want to go by a rum shop and just talk. Don't know wha I would talk to dem about. Maybe cricket. Maybe pussy. Maybe I'll tell them that when it all comes down to it pussy doesn't matter. I'll wait until the sun goes down a little more till I set out for Robert. Wait until the sky turns that fuck up looking orange. Until it looks lazy. Until the birds get dark against it.

 The invincibility or the infallible impression that people may or may not have had of the Prime Minister was of little thought to Winston. It was of little thought to Miriam as well. This was not a result of docility, but, perhaps cynicism. They both thought that businessmen ruled the country and the people in parliament were figure-heads. Such thoughts are ultimately too pat and are only useful in stopping you from going mad because the reality is that you have no idea how the country works, or, more horrifyingly, you have no idea how it should work. Miriam walked down the corridors of the hotel. The waves that dashed themselves against the outside mesmerised the tourists that were staying in the rooms far away from the things in their life, but to Miriam it was just noise on a radio: just something in the background, like when at the Holetown festival there is a man in the background playing conga drums, but you are too busy looking at the vendors and their twirlers and such, and not paying attention to the congas, but you know that it's still there. She thought about how her son would be when he grew up. He'd have strong legs from doing yardwork all the time. He would talk in a deep voice, no, a high pitched quick voice and talk about how fish prices went up and he can't stand it cuz he likes fish. Don't think about what you could have been Winston. Don't think about what you could have been. Don't think about what you could have been. Don't think about what you could have been. Stop thinking about what you could have been. Stop thinking about all of that. If you think about that one more time. Stop thinking about it, you went to rob a cunthole man with some johnnies that was older than you. Anyone would have looked up to them, or thought they knew what they were doing. Don't think about what could have been. It doesn't help. It never helps. You'll just keep pulling at it like when you took mummy's spool of thread and kept pulling it and pulling it until there was thin pink all over the bedroom and mummy beat you, like she should have. Do not think about what could have been. Just piss over there. Don't think about things while you are pissing. If you think about that mistake then you'll start thinking about the other mistakes. Then you'll start to cry again. You want to cry again like a buller? Then don't think about what could have been. Never do it. No one should do it.

The night was stark and everywhere, hiding the tufts of grass that came up everywhere in the village, and cooling the old roofs of the homes and dog houses. The night also turned things into other things by the theatre of its context. A cigarette lighter is paltry in the day-time, but during night, with all that black around, with all those things away from the eye, cigarette lighters become these magic, chain-less amulets, the clear plastic ones becoming savage, simple, flickering crystals of some sort. You hear more, and the hearing prompts your imagination. But ultimately, the night can only be arrogant, because it knows that regardless of all of our clawing advances in technology, of all of our theories for the explanation of things around us, no matter how much we know that eventually the sun will come around again, the night remains arrogant because it knows that you know that things will be hidden whether you like it or not, and who wouldn't be arrogant in that situation? Winston stomped his boots into the slope of the hill as he descended down to one of the paved roads in Suriname. He walked quickly and hid between houses when he saw someone on the road coming towards him. By the side of one house he looked into their window and saw the television, tall and looming. He forgot for a second that those things no longer had knobs to twist, or tabs to pull on. The show on was a garish display of Americana. The characters, a thin, lanky father and his precocious young daughter were talking. The father said "Well all I have to do is go to the video store and explain the whole mix-up to him. It should all straighten out." Then camera three showed the daughter taking a quick, meaningless sip from her brightly coloured cup while she said "Oh yeah, I'm real sure that'll work out smoothly," while the audience laughed. The couple in the house laughed as well, the woman saying "she too cute nuh." Winston didn't understand why that was a joke, and why the girl pronounced 'real' the way she did. Frankly, he thought the girl rude and in need of discipline. Winston darted his eyes around as he got on the road again. The houses were aglow as everyone sat to enjoy the night-time entertainment. One house had an action movie showing, the volume up to amazing levels, explosions rattling out of the surround sound speakers. Winston still had no idea where these people he grew up with were getting the money for this from. He walked up some cement steps to the side door of a house and tapped lightly. "Who it is?" went the voice inside. "De out-man." replied Winston. The door opened. Sergeant Douglass Sergeant stood up in the bathroom stall of the district police station squeezing the last bit of urine from his penis into the toilet with his finger-tips. He walked out the stall and looked at himself in the mirror. His face was round and a rich brown. His teeth had begun to yellow, from the coffee he had started drinking two years prior once he had signed on for this night-shift. He smiled just to see what he looked like when he smiled. He squinted his eyes at the mirror. He slapped his stomach that was becoming prominent now. "More sit-ups" he murmured. Then, he took out his night stick in the empty bathroom. He held it up to his face while still staring at the mirror. He walked left to right holding the stick to his mouth, and then danced, pivoting from one foot to the other, then sang-whispered some songs "Haiti I'm sorry, We misunderstood you, But one day we'll turn around, and look inside you." then "Jah ras-tafri parro-jammo creator of rhythm and tempo..." then he quickly stuffed his stick into his holster as Constable Henry Yarde pulled down the handle of the door to enter.

 Robert's house was a small board house in a side path that you had to walk through light grass to get to. It smelled of a damp smoke, and the curtains were not changed regularly. Still, the floor was cleaned and the kitchen table was clear, except for a scale sitting by the corner. A radio was on in the bedroom, with an ad telling people about preventing a mosquito problem. The wind picked up a little bit causing the window curtains to rise and fall like when you put on bed sheets and you raise it up and it comes down on the flat bed slowly and cautiously. The wind made Winston look around in his chair. "Don't worry Winston." "I cahn help but worry. I ain't expect de wind to rise like dat usually it wouln't be suh dramatic at this time o' de year." "True." Robert said. Then, "you hungry?" "Yeah man." "I got de food in de oven. It was off for a while, you want me to heat it up?" "Nah jus' bring it here." Winston replied. Robert came back with a plate with more rice than anything else, vegetables, onions browning in the gravy. Robert looked at Winston as he ate. He moved his mouth quickly, but scooped up the rice slowly. He looked straight ahead at the wall as he ate. His hands were hardened, fingernails down to the skin and smooth. But his eyes. The eyes Robert saw up close were the same eyes that everyone saw staring up at them from the newspaper whenever Winston escaped from prison, or when he almost got caught again. Some may tell you that Winston became a folk hero because people didn't believe he did it, and they might be right, but only partially so. Because when you see those eyes that pleaded simply by staring ahead it sent out a secondary emotion of pity along with interest. It made one believe that this guy running for his life in God knows where, hopping on boats and stowing away in the hinterland of some island could be your son, or brother, or somebody. No one felt sympathy for hard featured Peter Bradshaw. Even the two youngsters Barry Jack and Sylvian Clarke got no care because they looked like the type of boys that stole your bicycle while you were in the rum shop. No matter how tattered Winston looked in those snapshots of him being carted off by police, his flopping over-bearing locks and all, it could never stop those eyes from peering through at you. Winston would probably kill you at this point if it came down to it, would definitely steal your computer to pay for passage out the island if he could, but for most people, he was just a boy that got turned into a criminal. A hare forced to scrap through the forest while the wolves descended a-growl. None of this has to be true, very little of it even has to make sense. The resultant was that Winston Hall became our folk-hero, our Billy the Kid, our Robin Hood (provided he just stole from the rich plantation fellow), our real life, living, breathing, crazy, exhausted Br'er Rabbit. "Ya got any plans cook up Winston?" Robert asked as he cleaned up his plate. Winston looked up and blinked at him, maybe thinking, maybe just looking. "I got a idea or two is all but most differently I...just gine try to keep moving." he said.

 The two relaxed and talked about their day.  Winston had little to talk about, while Robert talked lightly about world events that might mean something to Winston, or maybe, might be funny to him. He laughed a slight laugh at some moments, and at others remained silent and motionless.  Sometimes he might make a random comment about wanting pussy, other moments he talked about his school days, stories Robert had heard already, but politely listened again.

"Sometimes I is envy you Winston."

"Why de hell you envy me?"

"Man people know bout you.  Nobody ain't know 'bout me.  You is de most famous man in Bim.  More famous then de Prime Minister."

"Maybe," Winston began, "but wha dah mean for me?  Is not like I could run fuh Prime Minister or, or open ah business down Swan Street wif my popularity.  I was reading a book on criminals when I was in Trinidad.  De term fuh criminals like me ain't 'famous', it is 'infamous' - I famous for being bad.  People would smile with me, but call de police in a heartbeat as well. People ain't care 'bout me really."

"You really 'tink so Winston?  People care 'bout you man.  People still believe you ain't deserve nuh death sentence man.  Most people woulda try to escape too.  Dem wid you."

"I doan’ agree.  People like rules too much.  Dey want to believe that everyting would work out right if dey follow de rules.  Until of course tings go bad and dey got to do tings to survive, then they realise.  I mean it is just like, like...Robert you know how prison is man, they got people that deserve to be there, and they got people who jus' catch a bad break.  A lot o' dem get sell out by they family and friends.  A lot of Barbados like to rely on other people - de government, dey foolish husband, policemen, or somebody.  I ain't nuh genius, but I feel that if a bunch o' people meet me, almost all o' dem would go and call de police cuz dey get tell so.  Won't even tink as to why dey doing it."

"That is you fear talkin Winston.  Barbadians care man.  That is you fear," Robert said, while getting up and fishing in the fridge to refresh their beers.  Winston stared ahead at the wall all that time, and when Robert returned to the table and opened the beers with his keychain he began again.

"Somebody is be talking in my head," Winston began, "I doan’ know who it is, it could be my fear telling me all these tings, or it could be my smarts.  Whoever it is, it telling me hide from everyone.  Last time I was comfortable was in Trinidad wid that woman."

"You did love that woman Winston?" Robert asked.

"Yeah, I did love she.  De love turn me different.  I guess love is do that. "

"If you hadn't get caught doin' foolishness..."

"It wasn't foolishness, it was my heart getting de best of me."

"Alright if you didn't get caught following you heart, you feel you woulda live there forever?" Robert asked.  Winston thought and then looked down at the table.

"Maybe. I love this island, but I was comfortable there.  Here my mind is mek me paranoid and nervous.  I jus' cut off from this place.  I might be de most famous man here, but I don't know much bout it Robert.  Trinidad was where tings did at least seem normal. Cuz, for a lil' moment, there was love."  Winston said.

 Winston lightly clapped onto his shin the side of the collins that Robert gave him on his departure as a plastic bag with fruit lightly cheered by his thigh. Overhead the moon went through the trees with an unmistakable sharp glow, features on the face of it like birth-marks, and were one to walk under the leaves of the breadfruit and mango trees and look up, the way that Winston was at the time, the moon might seem to twinkle its pock-marked light to you.  The houses were mostly silent at this point of the night, week-days it was this way. The insects called out into the darkness, creating an instinctual and perpetuating siren, as each insect, perched on their nocturnal pedestal, found a simple and eternal occupation.

 Miriam found the insects creepy.  When the night-noises reached her ear they were not received as a wafting tone poem of tones, but simply murky tension outside the car window on her ride home. Mr. Holford, who worked at the supermarket across the road from the hotel, and who would drop her home in the late night, and tell her smiling stories of the hopeless, irritable and easily confounded customers and employees of the supermarket, and who also would make fumbling compliments of her hair and necklace and would understand when Miriam declined his invites to concerts and exhibitions, and who would stare at Miriam’s rocking buttocks as she walked away from his car after smilingly thanking him, would then beep his car horn as he drove off softly.

 What is that? A car horn. Get behind this house. Make sure that all the lights are off in this house you leaning against. Your knee is okay tonight don’t worry. Who is that there walking?  It’s her. Her hair is frazzled a bit.  Her hips are so gentle.  How does she look so untouched up here in Suriname?  Almost all these women look run-down, chipped at the edges, shaken about a bit.  She’s different.  She is like one of those dreams you have in de morning when ya almost wake up and ya coul’ swear it real but ya is wake up in de grass and ya look around and realise it is de same as yesterday, but ya is put ya hand together and thank God that you coul’ still dream, cuz if not you probably would’ve drowned youself a long time ago.  Wait. Look at her eyes, all open wide in this night.  Is she surprised?  Is she looking for something?  No. No, look.  She’s scared.  Shite you just slip. Hide!  you just made a noise.

 Winston hid behind the house steadying himself with his forearms while Miriam stopped walking and just stared at the direction of the stumble-sound.  In the porous night where most things are hidden but some things escape stood the two, Winston peeping, Miriam listening.

“Who-w-who there?” she asked, amazingly evenly.  Winston paused.

“Nobody. Just a man. I ain’t gine hurt you.” Winston finally said, secreted behind the side of the house.

“You was waiting for me right?”  Miriam said into the night “I ain’t got no lotta money. I work hard t-this , um today. But tek it, tek d-de money, just don’t ra…”

“I ain’t wait for you .  I was jus’ walking through.”

“Then why you was hiding?”  she asked, not rudely, not accusatorily, but simply curiously.  Silence.  She then asked for his name but Winston stretched the silence, pressed rough against the side of the house.  Miriam took a step forward on the road and then listened, and then looked around as Winston crouched low.  He squinted his eyes at the woman taking tentative steps on the road and opened his mouth to say something, anything, to perhaps welcome her into his secret, or to tell her an outrageous and comforting lie while escorting her home, but instead he held firm and watched Miriam walk down the road quickly and determinedly into the shrouding night.

 Through the grass Winston walked, mainly by memory, through the trees that cradled things to sleep and by the edge of a craggy pasture, pocking rocks and dirt with his boots and collins, and in this heavy chaos is where he crouched down and laid by his supplies and run-ragged possessions.  Up into the air he looked, at the wavy and dreamy clouds, barely hiding the wide moon out tonight, and he thought of rushing things, and impoverished motionless things that loomed in his head as always, and then sometimes he would listen and listen as the night-time serenaded, or mocked him perhaps.

 There he slept, back used to the flat earth, dreams sliding in and out of the thoughts. He dreamt of the children in Trinidad & Tobago, the woman’s children that he was around a lot.  He dreamt about his stern lashes he gave them, and he dreamt of him teaching them how to make bow and arrows out of coconut leaves, sharpening the stem into an arrow-point using an old razor from a broken pencil sharpener.  He then dreamt of a hot fire, and of him running, and running, and running, and then floating and flying through the trees away from the fire up and above Trinidad, looking down at the twinkling lights that families would leave on at times. He then thought of when he was captured there, and the children looked at him and asked “Tony, ya ‘un come back?” to which Winston looked at them softly with those doomed eyes of his, and shook his head no, his heavy locks floundering over and about his shoulders.

 This is your life now.  This is your life.  Look at it. Look at the shadows of dem trees.  Doan worry.  We’ll get another plan together.  Remember Robert had said there might be a guy that could get pay off to smuggle you on that boat?  Something will always come up, you just have to hold on until then.  The same thing day in and out until your ship comes in. You know you got what other people doan got.  You got de discipline.  What? Man you gine got to forget about that girl, about this whole fucking country in fact. Just stay down.  Just stay out here, Robert gine set tings in motion. Man doan let you emotions get de better of you.  Look I know she look good.  I know she comforting.  I know you could use some of that comfort.  But let it go.  This is your life now.  This is your life now.  Look at the dark grass over there.  You could stash some things there.  You got to go over to get those carrots from that plot of land.  That is what you think of.  You get as close as you could.  This is your life.  Winston sit down. Winston-

 Winston got up and looked at the slow clouds, then back towards the little line of houses down the grassy slope.  He took up his new cutlass, and walked, shaky, unsure and for the first time in a long time, scared.

 Sergeant Douglass Sergeant walked around the district police station.  He was testy and bored.  He thought about being on the front page of the newspapers quoting something about some murder case he thought up in his mind.  At least a good burglary case involving a well-known minister or a beloved person in the media.  He would tell the reporters, in the most pleasant of voices, about the dangerous circumstances of the whole ordeal.  He thought joyfully of the microphones, of the notebooks scratched with details, of the television cameras with their dull shine on the lens.  In fact, he was drawing a complex, Eiffel Tower looking antennae on his note-book when Orville Lowell came up to him to challenge him to a healthy round upon round of x and os.

 Eagerly Sergeant would scrawl his x in the corner to begin his winning play he had read of in a book dedicated to these puzzles called ‘Tic-Tac-Toe for Winners!’ that he had picked up in a store adjacent to a hotel on the south coast of the island.  He grinned playfully at Lowell, and then at the page as the younger Lowell tried uselessly to circumvent the inevitable.

 The grass slid against the boots of Winston as he walked down the hill.  The rocks, loose on the dirt moved with a murmuring tumble as Winston kicked them or stepped on them on his way down.  He would arch his head, to see through trees and branches, calculating his path towards a house he had never been to, had never scouted out in advance, had never thought of going to until the recent wanderings of his mind.  Overhead the clouds were soft in their movements and the wind was cool against his old shirt and his face, run ragged by years, decades in fact, of worrying in a harsh, coarse manner, and decades of regret.

 Stop this.  Stop this. Stop this I say!

 Miriam opened the door to her son’s room and watched the young boy curled into the edge of his bed, but a calm curl.  He did not claw the bed-sheets like when she would look in on him after the arguments. This was a motionless slumber, a reprieve from the day at school where he was beaten for trying to cheat on his times-table test, and where Janice Peters, the girl he had pleasing thoughts about, laughed at him when he fell down darting between the trees.  He looked up at her as she laughed and then she walked over to him, helping him up as he dusted off his short pants, saying to him “doan cry, you gine get better”, and then she walked away.  Miriam closed the door slowly, the shadow of the door looming slowly over the bed until it darkened the entire room.  She pulled off her shoes and clothes and just laid in the bed, churning her mind as to who that could have been hiding behind the house, desperate not to be seen, and from whence did he come from.  She felt helpless, but also, for no reason, wondered if that man was helpless as well, adrift with no one to answer to, or to answer for.  

 She didn’t exactly want to help him, but rather, to understand him, where he came from, what had him out there at that hour, and what had him so scared, like her. She thought that perhaps he was hiding from the same dark permutations that she supposed existed in those bushy trees and grass up the hill.  Perhaps the world had ravaged him to such a degree that even the plaintive claps of a woman’s shoe-heel on the dirty ground scared him.  She surmised that his mind saw something horrible in people, and that sight drove him to cower noisily, with mouth agast, like in the movie she saw once where the man saw which people were holy, and which were demons of the devil. If only he stared long enough she thought, then maybe he would see that she was no clawed harlot, but that she was as scared as he was, distrustful of the very nature of people as he was, that she acknowledged the way that love spoiled into vengeful control after a long enough time, disappointing her as she was sure it did him, that poor man clawed and scared behind some wooden house, with the taunting night and the duppies all around him.

 Winston stood behind the bare tamarind tree and solidified his approach: he would climb the low pailing surrounding the neighbouring mini-mart and then squeeze through the space he saw on that hill into her premises, and then softly, patiently, meekly tap the windows of the woman’s house until she awoke and then calm her with his eyes and tell her all that was in his foolish heart about her beauty, her unassuming grace, her glad-eyed son, and his own drifting life, polluted with his frenzied volition and shame.

 He arrived at the galvanized pailing, creeping unsure like he had by the Plantation House where this whole legend began twenty or so years ago.  He jumped up to grab the top, but at that moment, his knee shifted around itself, causing him to fall and hit the outside base with a small thump.

 Miriam then heard a thump, small but real.  She startled up and looked out the window at the night.  She surveyed her little back-yard and saw nothing.  She looked at the next door neighbour and saw the stillness she expected.  She supposed it was a dog or cat bumping against the pailing, but she kneeled there on the bed, looking out at the trees that waved in the slight wind.  And then she gasped, her body tensing up uniformly as if expecting a blow at primary school, as if she caught the Holy Spirit at church, as if she was giving birth at the hospital, as she saw a dark man crawling on top of the neighbour’s pailing.

 The District Police Station’s phone rang twice.  The officer listened, grumbled his questions to the caller while scribbling notes, and then he looked at the two men playing and arguing about the 1987 Calypso Finals results.

 I understand you have a fancy towards her but this is no reason to do this.  Think about your knee.  Think about this pulsating, devious pain that moves from your knee towards the rest of your body.  I can’t stop you can I?  I want to. I want you to walk up that slope and disappear into those trees like you have since you came back to this part of the island. Stop thinking of her…you can’t can you? Your beautiful sin.  A booming voice tells you not to eat of the tree, don’t eat that fruit, but you have to, because that woman tells you to right? Right there, is when love, the way we know it, was created.  He looked towards the sky, looking the way that the sky looked now, a combination of tribulation and creation, the way four o’ clock has always looked, and Adam looked at the sky and chose love over unknowable punishment the way poor you from Suriname will choose it.  

 Winston jumped and swung his leg over the tall pailing and fell to the ground.  He looked around the new surroundings and squinted his eyes to see where the path to Miriam’s house would be.  He walked but then fell wordlessly in the soft darkness, soft because of the approaching morning that would shed light to the physicality of this all but never to the motivation, never to the chirping collaborators of the late night, and never to the love that occurred here.

 Sergeant Douglass Sergeant turned the car onto the street where Miriam lived in a careful arc.  Two others were with him – Lowell, the defeated tic-tac-toe player, and Constable Henry Yarde, a young man new to the police force who swore to his dying grandmother that he would do something useful with his life, and as she felt the dying in her along with the heat, the young man pressed his face into her scratchy, paper hands and thanked her for reforming him.  Sergeant knocked softly on Miriam’s door and the door opened silently creating a tension.  “I-I was just looking out my window when Jesus Christ I see a man jump over de pailing of’ de mini mart.”

“Okay yes this we know.” Sergeant whispered, “but in the time it tek for we to get here, you inform de owners o’ de mini mart?”

“Yeah, I call up Jackie and tell she.  She is de daughter. I call she up cuz I know that she cell phone don’t got a loud ring. It does mostly buzz.”

“Good. Good thinking.” Sergeant said. The young policeman looked at her while her gaze was towards Sergeant.  The woman was terrified.  To Yarde, her eyes were a-blaze with fear, unblinking and beautiful.  The wind would pick up for a couple seconds and he would look at her old T-shirt against her widening waist.  He wanted to comfort her and to tell her lies to calm her and after he kissed her, look at her in the morning sun and tell her truth after truth. Meanwhile Sergeant looked at the woman he briefly consoled at Kevin’s funeral and took down the information, caring little for her fear, taking it only to mean that the criminal was a large man. Perhaps he committed more crimes throughout the countryside he theorised.  Perhaps he could come up with a name of the man for the reporters to put on the front page - “countryside killer”, “de slasher”, and then “de jungle demon”.

 The banana tree in the back flopped as Winston leaned against it, slowly putting and then taking weight off of his knee.  He looked around again, and saw that the space leading to the woman’s house was wider than he thought.  He swept his heavy locks back and wiped his brow with his old shirt, and then held his cutlass like you would an eccentric cane and said out to the abdicating night “Hello.  My name is Winston.  People say I do some tings – some o’ dem I do, but some o’ dem I didn’t.  I tink I love you, but I ain’t sure, so, what is you name?”, then he shifted again in the craggy dirt and said “Good night, my name is Winston and I tink I love you. But wha so is you name?” Then he scraped the ground with his cutlass/ bejewelled cane and said “Even if you scared of me I want you to know that I love you.  My name is Winston Hall.  Yes, my name is Winston Hall and I am not ashamed.”

         Yarde walked into Miriam’s house, squinted his eyes and looked back, asking “Ma’am, is there a way we could get from where you live to de mini-mart owner house?”

“Yes. They got a lil’ path that is connect we.”

“Do we just get out into your back-yard and just turn right?”

“Yes, yes, yes ya is just turn right.” She whispered.  Yarde looked at Sergeant Sergeant, who then slid his right hand between his waist and the leather of his pistol.  “Yeah, we gine go in she yard and surprise he, cuz he think he hard, but we gine light up he ass.” And with that he walked through the length of Miriam’s house, walking as if he owned it with no heeding to any decorum, because whatever decorum that was expected usually – whether you took your shoes off or letting the lady walk in front – would mean nothing once police were in your house, partly because of all the urgency in this and partly because of your status in the country.  If it were a rich mover and shaker like a Goddard or a Williams, they would’ve at least asked if they could be shown the way through the house by the head of the house. Miriam noticed this, but pursed her lips because of this expected acquiescence that policemen’s widows exhibited always.

         The sky was still dark, but still becoming lighter on the upper edges of the sky.  Between Winston and the gate to Miriam’s house was a small, easily hop-able fence that separated the small garden that Winston stood upon, and the concrete that led to the back of the mini-mart.  He leaned against the soft banana trees and looked up as the leaves crowded the round and glowing moon, its shining glow fading as the sun began to make its approach upon the island.

         It combs the light of the moon.  Look at the moon being obstructed by the light slice of the banana leaves, the distant craters and darkness of the moon that suggest another place for us humans to go to and make simple at first with our enviable industry, then only to advertise to the people about the advantages of such a place, and then imagine escaping to a place where the best went to the roughest, just like in the westerns you like so much.  Feel that wind.  Understand it.  Believe that it holds a great new thing for you to encounter.  Feel the wind, pregnant with the exhalations of generations of Barbadians and tourists.  Tell yourself you love it.  The people inside of you.  Imagine that they tell stories to their children about you.  Believe that someone is printing out protest banners for you. Hail the goodness that has gotten you this far, that has made you believe in the gospel of survival through the mere occurrence of actions.  Worship the…

 “Freeze, ya rassole cunt.”

“Doan come close.”

“I gine got ta come close.  Cuz see I is de big bad woodsman coming to capture all o’ wunna wolves.  Ya fucking wolves.”

“You sound like you been thinking a lot about what you gine say before you capture somebody.”

“Hush you fuckin’ mouth!” Sergeant Sergeant barked.

“You even know why I here?”  Winston asked. “I ain’t here to steal.  I here for love.  I here to say something to a woman.  Something that I should have said a long time ago.  Let me through so I could tell her.”

“Put down de cutlass son.  I doan know if you got a crush or you in love but come along and we could sort this out.” Sergeant Sergeant said, his hand out-stretched, on the concrete away from the man.

“I tink I love she.”

 Okay run into the trees and then use the trunk of the trees to jump up to the pailing.  You could leap over and be gone before these policemen come.  We could get de dog and be gone from this parish by noon.  Just run and jump!  Your knee will be okay.  You can’t wrestle the policemen to the ground.  You have to retreat.  Run off. Run off into de wild.  Just do a lil’ jump an’ run.  Jus’ do it calm.

 Winston shifted back and looked at the imposing height of the pailing that he could jump over, he supposed.  He saw the three policemen, and he saw them spread out to be of proper use. Winston gripped his cutlass stronger, his arms tensing and straight.

 Then he saw her.  She peeped through the passageway, furtively of course, but he saw her, her great, rounded eyes, her dense, brown skin, filled with a swirling system of emotions by now, brown with the approaching sun.  She was pitied more than admired in her neighbourhood, and the tourists at the hotel were too caught up in the cocaine and flowers of the island to sit and study the beauty of this woman pushing past their rooms.  This perky Barbadiana, full of egregious glee, of blind fear and hate, who went undetected by the visitors, but always constant to this visitor Winston.  He knew no other recourse, could surmise nothing else but the accomplishment of these heated ideas that singed him in the dark.

 He ran towards the policemen.  The shot rang out with a sharp and ranging flight, like the flight of crows.  Winston slumped back, and then lunged forward towards Miriam while the young policeman Yarde shot again.  Winston fell back, squirming at first and then laying still, letting his shoulder-blades touch the ground, and listening to the arched sobbing of the mini-mart owner and Miriam go over the country-side, which was now becoming lighter with this new Age, supplanting the previous Age that began as the Union Jack went down and our flag went up, and ended as the man, arched and crackling on the ground, began to cough his last coughs about love, heard only by the mini-mart owners, the policemen, Miriam, and the curious primary school boy, who stood with his arms folded, staring through the open glass window of his room, with its colour coming alive again in the morning light.

THE END

[drvrslcense]

of right now || chapter one

Masterlist | Wattpad | Taglist 

Pairing: Producer!Tom Holland x Reader 

Word Count: 2,195

Warning: Swearing, mentions of stabbing someone, anxiety

Series Description: You are an ordinary girl, living an ordinary life with a boyfriend who is in a coma.  And he is a successful producer looking for a promotion when he was relocated in Batanes (where you live).  His plans are a) make a show b) make it a hit c) get the promotion and d) go back to London. But things don’t go as expected, right?

A/N: So here’s chapter one for you guys out there! Have fun reading and don’t forget to share your thoughts! Oh, btw there’ll be some Tagalog words thrown in there, their meanings will be put down below. 

Disclaimer: I do not own the plot nor Tom Holland. The plot along with some lines belongs to Everyday, I love you’s crew and it’s production. Tom Holland is also just a face and a name claim, I do not know him personally nor do I know his personality. 

"Good morning, love!" You said to the camera as you stand up and walk to your drawers to pick something to wear for the day.

"It's day fifty-two, hope you are doing alright there," You said as you grabbed a hanger with the outfit you'll wear. It's a plain white shirt topped with a denim skirt overall.

"I gotta go and get ready for the day but I miss you! See you soon, love!" You wave goodbye to the camera giving it a flying kiss then you turn it off and sighed.

Missing Aidan is something you've never expect to feel. He is always there, even in childhood. You'd see him every day since you were young. It started as a foolish crush but it turned into something bigger- something wonderful that only something 13-year-old you dreamt of. Memories with him, doing stuff with him it was always great even eating your favorite dish.

You shook your head trying to avoid the nagging feeling of a black hole forming inside your heart. "Y/N, that's enough," you scold yourself trying to rid yourself of the guilt that you have about his condition. It was because of you that he was lying there, on the hospital bed, unconscious but breathing. Even though others tell you not to blame yourself, you still did. And it's killing you to pretend that everything's alright when it's not.

You got out of the shower getting yourself ready to face the world, to be that happy-go-lucky girl that everyone in Batanes loves. You quickly got dressed in your outfit and as you are tying your white suede sneakers, you heard a knock on your door.

"Hey pumpkin, your lolas (grandmothers) are here. They are very much excited to see you," Your dad says through the door.  "Come out whenever you are ready."

"Okay, dad," You said quickly tying your other shoe and abruptly standing up. You quickly grabbed your sling bag and put the video camera inside along with other necessities you'll need for the day. You opened the door and was quickly greeted by the smell of adobo, one of your favorite Pinoy dish.

"Oh, Y/N, you've grown!" Your grandma Esther said as she squeezes your cheeks and kisses both of them.

"Ma, you've seen me five days ago," You said, hugging her as your grandma Julie waddles over you. You let go of Grandma Esther as Grandma Julie approaches you.  

"Ah! It's been so long!" Grandma Julie said, smiling so wide and pulling you into a hand.

"Oh, stop it, Y/N's suffocating," Your father said carrying their bags to their rooms.  Grandma Esther and Grandma Julie are known as 'The Sisters of Basco'. They are well-known for the restaurant they started years ago that became a hit around the area. Grandma Esther is your direct grandmother, she is the mother of your late mother. While Grandma Julie is like this cool aunt that everyone likes.

"Oh, I'm starving!" Grandma Esther said taking a seat at the dining table, Grandma Julie follows suit. You and father followed after them, taking a seat at your respective places.  

"Mother Dearests, how was your Japan vacation?" You ask them, prolonging the 's' sound in dearests as you grab your rice and the adobo and started eating as soon as the prayers are done.

"Oh! It was fantastic!" Grandma Julie said, mouth full of food.

"Oh, Jules, please shut your mouth. I don't want to see another flying rice around here," Grandma Esther said, shutting her up as the food kept flying in bits and pieces out of her mouth as she talks. Grandma Jules shut up quickly and finish chewing her food.

"Anyways," Grandma Jules continued, shooting a glare at Grandma Esther's side. "We got you something." She stood up and went to their room and later came back with a plastic bag. 

"Here," She handed you the plastic bag. You took a peek inside and gasp.

"Oh My! Thank you so so much, lolas!" You gushed over the comfy hoodies they got you along with some sweets and a Harry Potter wand.

"No problem, apo (granddaughter)," Grandma Esther said, smiling in your direction and continued eating. "How is Aidan?"

"He's fine," You answered her, "There's still no improvements or any news. Zero, zilch, nada, as in zero."

"Awh, that's okay, Y/N," Granda Jules said giving you a comforting smile. "Sometimes no news is good news." You gave them comforting smiles, too. Letting them know that you're alright, and you're healing from the guilt. You know you have to be there for Aidan, so you put a pin on the guilt that you are feeling and let it stay that way, for now.

"It's not your fault, you know?" Your Grandma Esther added. "It's that bastard who stabbed him."

"Mama," Your father warned your Grandma Esther when she said a bad word.

"Oh, sorry," Grandma Esther said, smiling sheepishly before letting out a laugh and continued eating.

"Thanks, Mama Esther," You said, smiling in their direction. You quickly jumped up and grabbed your sling bag. You saw that you have a tour in less than an hour, so you have to head to the airport right now to pick up the tourists.

"Anyways, I got to go. Duty calls." And with a kiss to your family, you are off riding your bicycle towards the travel agency that will give you the itinerary for today's tour. You are a local tour guide and it's your job to tour the tourists around Batanes.

"Bye, Y/N!" The tourists bid you farewell as you finished the tour and it's already their time to go home.

"Thank you so much for letting me tour all of you around Batanes. See you next time!" You told them, bidding them farewell as they climb into the van after a tiring but enjoying day of the trip.  

"Oh!" You gasp in surprise as a child went to hug you.

"I'll miss you, Y/N," The child muttered as he held on tightly to you. He's around three to five years old and he bonded with you for the whole tour. In turn, you told him myths and legends about Batanes that filled the child's mind with wonder.

They soon leave and you went inside the office to take a seat in your desk. You took a breath for a few moments and started arranging your stuff.

"Leaving so soon?" Your boss and a friend of yours, Lia, asked.

"Yeah. Nurse Angie called, plus I wanted to see Aidan," You answered her question, giving her the sweetest smile you could muster. You even questioned yourself if you should do the "puppy dog eyes" thing. But the smile seemed to do the thing.

"Okay, okay. You can leave as long as you're done with your work," She said. "Send Mama Nida my regards." Mama Nida is Aidan's grandmother. His parents abandoned him when he was a child. They left him with her.

"Will do, Lia," You said standing up to hug her. She returned your hug and pat you in the back. "Thank you so much!"

You quickly leave towards the hospital, riding your bicycle. Once, you got to the hospital you quickly opened up your video camera and filmed yourself.

"Hi, Love!" You said, waving to the camera with the brightest smile on your face. That little boy who hugged you earlier made your day brighter than it already was.

"It's already 5 pm and I just finished touring the tourists around here. There was this little boy earlier that hugged me and he's just the sweetest," You said as you walk down the hallways and towards his room.

"Anyways, I'm here to see you now. Have a speedy recovery!" You said to the camera. "I love you. Get well soon!"

You sighed as you entered the room, but was greeted by the joy and love surrounding it. Your grandmas are with Mama Nida and they are all just being adorable together and talking about stuff. They are lifelong friends with Mama Nida, that's the reason why none of them left town even when they had the chance.

"Get ready to roll in 5 minutes!" Tom yelled all over the place. They are at the London Bridge, filming for an action movie he's producing. Just as he was making rounds and making sure that everything is alright, his phone rang.

"Luis! Where the fucking hell are you?" Tom answered the call, his voice stern and urgent. "The camera's rolling in 5 minutes!"

"This is the fifth and last time you're gonna be late," He said walking over to the booth, so he can what's happening on cam. "Get your ass over here or consider yourself fired."

"Get ready. I'm taking over." Tom ordered the crew, especially the lead.

"I thought Alfred still has five minutes?" The lead questioned while studying his lines as the makeup crew tries to cover his eye bags.

"He won't be here in five minutes. He's still in his house and it's two hours away from here," Tom explained to the lead getting ready himself, too.

"Nina!" Tom greeted his boss, kissing her on the cheek. Nina is like a second mother to him, his grandmother the first. She always looks out for him and cares for him like he's her own son.

"How are you? You look like you're in a good mood," Nina mused. Tom chuckled and yelled for a cameraman to focus as his video is being shaky.  

"Anyways, what are you doing here? The ratings of my show are high?" Tom asked, confused. Nina only came to shootings when the show's ratings are low to observe whether or not they should cancel it.

"Exactly. I'm here to observe," Nina answered, leaning back in her chair and crossing her legs. Tom nodded and she continued, "SDF is leaving. We'll be needing a new production manager, ASAP."

"I'm the new PM?" Tom asked, arrogantly. Smirking with overflowing confidence assuming that he's the new production manager that will manage seven shows at a time. Nina just chuckled and looked towards the shooting, Tom just scoffed clearly in disbelief.

"We'll see," Nina said, teasingly.

Three days later, in the management's office, Tom is sitting confidently in his chair. Almost like he knows that he is the one who is promoted. Impatient, Tom started playing on his phone until Nina came in to announce who got promoted.

"SDF retired and we've been thinking of who to replace him. We're very proud and happy to announce that management is promoting Jessa Griffins!" Jessa stood up and immediately thanked Nina while other nominees surrounded Jessa and congratulated her. But, Tom immediately went to Nina.

"Why her?" Tom asked following her as she walked towards her office.

"Because she's hired earlier than you and she's older than you."

"So, you're saying that age is the basis of promotion?" Tom asked in disbelief over the announcement of the promotion.

"And you're saying that you're better than her?" Nina challenged him.

"Yes! My shows are better than hers," Tom boasted, clearly thinking that he's the one who deserves the promotion.

"Look," Nina sighed turning to face him. "You are great in technical and creative works, but she's better at handling people."

Tom just chuckled and rolled his eyes, crossing his arms and raised his eyebrows signaling Nina to continue.

"Did you know that Luis was never late for her? In fact, when you fired him, Jessa immediately hired him and they made a great episode."

"So, you're saying I should tolerate incompetence?" Tom asked, aggravated.

"Relax," Nina said. "Why do I get the feeling that you're always in a rush. You're still young. You still have lots to do. In your haste, lots of people got hurt. Why does it always seem like you're in a competition? Life is not about competition, rather it's about simply living it and enjoying every second of it. "

"That's why," Nina continued. "I'm reassigning you to the Philippines. Batanes, specifically. They need a good quality show for the younger market."

"WHAT" Tom exclaimed in surprise. "Is this some kind of punishment? You know I do high adventure, high adrenaline shows. What would I do in a province, anyway?"

"Look, if you pull this off, I'll promote you as a production manager," Nina sighed and rubbed her forehead, a headache clearly forming. "Take this as a challenge. It may actually be the best thing to ever happen to you."

Later on, Tom is back at home cleaning the dishes when his grandmother, Laura said something about the promotion.

"Nina called me earlier, said that you didn't get the promotion. I'm sorry but she's right. You need to take this slow," His grandmother said.

"I know, Lavi. It's just, I don't really know," Tom sighed, finally letting out his feelings.

"You know what you need? A girlfriend." His grandmother pointed out.

"I don't need a girlfriend, I have my Lavi right here," Tom said, kissing his grandmother on the cheek.

"You seriously need to get a life," She said, making some coffee. "And maybe that Batanes thing is good for you."

Of Right Now Taglist: @hollandsosterfield @avengerdcnvers

Some wonderful people who might like this: @prince-p-parker@leiasfanaccount648 @friendly-neighborhood-ash @tomshufflepuff@cutie1365 @marvelousxtsh @wayfaring—stranger @death-over-coffee @its-the-unknownspideywrites @hollandroos @h-osterfield@fratboievans @starksparker @hollandrecs @anxieteandbiscuits @tomhollandvibes

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I love y’all 3000 <3 

[angelynrostrand]

Chapter 17

Summary:  To the outside world, nothing should connect shy girl Angel Monroe and popular boy Xavier Hazelwood. But that isn't entirely true. They both hold secrets. Behind both of them lie 2 separate wolf packs. Xavier is well on his way to Alpha status and running the pack. Angel is not a wolf but instead the last healer in the world. When the realization comes forward that they are connected by destiny, will they decide to fulfill it? Is their connection predetermined by fate or will they choose their hearts? Lives and packs cross and mingle while romance and conflict brews. The story of 2 opposite souls on a collision path. Will destiny win out? Even the most innocent face, has the darkest secrets.

Word Count: 2,445

“Are you ready?” My brother asks.

“Yes, push the button.” As my brother does, the tv screen illuminates with a picture of my father in France. We were able to get a hold on him. It took a couple of hours, but we finally got through.

“Hello, father.” We both say. My father’s eyes seem to have sunk into his face, his hair is thinning, the dark bags under his eyes have increased. He doesn’t hold the smile he always gives me. It catches me off guard, so Eric speaks first.

“Please update me about yesterday's event,” My father says.

“Well...in those videos I sent you earlier, it shows the crowd attacking Angel. Then one man grabs Angel causing a bruise on her wrist that is now gone. I have communicated with multiple journalists. They have apologized about their actions, but they want to interview Angel,” my brother states.

“Absolutely not. No one is doing any interviews!” My father yells through the audio speakers, causing us to jump slightly.

“I thought you would say so. That’s why I already declined them,” My brother says. My head snaps towards him. Why did he decline them without my input? I would never do that to them. I hate the spotlight, but I would like him to ask me before deciding for me. And interviews? This is the first I am hearing about this and of course he must report it to our father before telling me. I understand as an Alpha he has a duty to always report to his Elders but still, I am his sister. “Since she is still a minor, they cannot interview her, or talk to her without your consent. If they do, then we can sue them.”

“What about Ramon Sliva? The reporter who attacked Angel. Any news?” My father asks as he looks down at his own documents for reference. My head moves back and forth between the two men. They clearly do not need me. I still hold my tongue and wait like an obedient child, like I have been trained and told to do for years.

“I discovered he doesn’t have a direct company he works for, but both us and the school can report him for assault. It did happen on the school campus.”

 I break my silence. “No.” It came out a bit harsher than I meant. “I mean...umm...sorry I didn’t mean to yell. But I think we should just leave it. It will cause more drama for the news to capture. I’m fine. I’m not hurt. The bruise is already healed and I really just want to go back to normal.”

“Angel, he hurt you and we need to teach him a lesson,” my brother fights back.

“Eric, please. Xavier already beat him. I think the poor man has learned his lesson. He’s been through enough.”

“Fine. I will call the Midnight Pack for my thanks. Thank you, guys. This meeting was eventful. You are free to go.”

“Father, when are you coming back?” I spit out fast before he ends the call. “I just want you home. That’s all I want.”

“I don’t know. Maybe before Easter. We found a new clue about the attack from the secret society. If we stop, then we will lose them. Its nothing for you to worry about. Before I leave, I need to talk to Eric. Alone.” And that’s my cue to leave. I bow my head in respect and leave for school.

School is surprisingly calmer than it was yesterday. I guess the email did scare people into stopping their conversations about me. I can finally walk through the hallways as I did before. Invisible and safe. My life seems to slowly go back to normal. Once my father comes home, I can have my family back together. I just have to count my days for him. During my second class, all I can think is my father. I smile that he is coming back soon but the work has taken a toll on his body. I know if I am not around to boss him about his health, he won’t think about. I must remind him to take his vitamins and try to sleep 6 hours a day. I cook so he has to eat 3 meals a day. Lately, he has been so distant from me. Now I get he is just trying to protect me from those people. The evil people who want me dead. Once he comes back we can have daddy/ daughter day like we used to. Go out to eat, watch a play, and enjoy each other's company without his work interfering.

We have 10 more minutes left in Art class, and everyone is ready to leave. All their bags packed and each station is clean for once. Mrs. Miller, my art teacher,  walks up to me and catches me in the middle of a new wolf sketch. “Is that a new one?” She asks.

“Maybe. I’m not sure. It might be a little doodle to pass time,” I answer and smile up at her.

“I have always liked your artwork.” My eyebrows raise. “Don’t act so surprised. You always are on time with your work and bring in quality work. Unlike some people,” she whispers. I try not to smile too much.

“Thank you, Mrs. Miller. I try to do my best but thank you. I do love art and it’s not work when you love what you are doing.” I finish off with a smile.

“I agree, so I was thinking you should enter in this competition.” I look down to see a flyer she pushes across the table. “The theme is The Wild. The winner gets scholarship money for the college of their choice. I know it’s short notice but I think you can win. Also, you can’t say no. I already signed you up.”

“Mrs. Miller! Why?” My eyes stay wide and open for her next response.

“Cause I believe in you and this month hasn’t been the most kind to you. I think it would be a good distraction and it can be fun. You can do it. You just need a little push. Just read the requirements and the information. If you don’t want to, I’ll pull you out. Email me when you make a decision.”

The bell rings and students get up and race to their next class. I wait until the door is clear of students. I walk out with the flyer in hand. I keep my head down, reading it. Maybe Mrs. Miller was right. I don’t know. I study the paper and keep on bumping into people. “Sorry...sorry...sorry.”

“What do you have there?” The flyer is taken away from me. I look up to find Xavier.

“Nothing.” I try to reach for it. But he is literally a tree and uses his long arms to hold the paper above me. “Xavier! Give it back.”

“No, I want to see what it is. It has been holding your attention so well that you didn’t realize you bumped into me and then walked away.” He laughs, but still acts serious.

“Did I hurt your feelings?”I ask and he nods rapidly. I laugh when he reads the paper out loud.

“An art competition? I didn’t even know that’s was a thing.”

“Ya. My teacher mentioned it to me.” I finally jump up to get the paper. “She thought I should participate in it. I don’t know if I am going to.”

“I think you should. You’re talented and I’ll bet money you will win.” He says, looking down at the paper in my hands.

“Please don’t. Don’t do that.” We laugh as I put the paper in my bag. I will think about it later. “Where were you today? I didn’t see you all day.”

“Awe did someone miss me?” He asks. I want to say yes, but that will only encourage his ego. Of course, I missed him, but I don’t want him to know that. He realizes I am not going to answer so he answers my question. “I was a little busy this morning. I had to figure out my new transportation for the week.”

“Oh ya, no car this week?” I hold my smile and keep a straight face. “What happened?”

“I didn’t think my parents were serious but they were. But this is my new ride.” We both walk outside and he is parked right next to my bike.

“You got a bike. I got to say my bike is way cooler.” We both unlock our bikes and walk out with it.  I look at the very old and used a bike. Maybe a mountain bike? It has blue and silver paint across.

“Yup.” He pops. “I thought we could ride together. You always seem to enjoy riding it. I’m starting to think I’m missing out.”

He slightly blushes away so I can’t see. I think it is a cute idea for us to ride together. “You are missing out. Come one I’ll show you the ropes.” As we ride together there's a certain calming wind the brushes through my hair. The clouds are protecting us from the sun and I can never get enough of spring weather. During the ride, I realize Xavier has almost forgotten what is like to ride a bike. I laugh at him but still encourage him, he is doing a great job. We live in the deep part of the woods and lucky for us, we ride the same route to get home. We have to make our separate way on Madison Ave. We both stop before I have takes left turn and he continues going straight.

“So, I’ll see you later. Hopefully, by tomorrow you mastered the art of a bicycle,” I say.

“Wait.” He stops me from riding away. “I was wondering if you can help me with some homework? Please.”

“I don’t know. I have some work to do with Dr. Shirley,” I say, but he fires back with puppy eyes.

“I will behave. Unlike last night.” He waits for my answer. I want to say yes, but I don’t know if my brother will be okay with it. He did misbehave yesterday but I did participate in it too. “Please I need help and I won’t be a distraction.”

“Fine. Ya, you can come over.” I lost again to Xavier’s sweet smile and his charm. “Follow me,” I say as he rides behind me.

Every now and then I have to check behind me to make sure I didn’t lose him. Or to make sure he didn’t fall over. When we arrive I let him park this bike next to the cottage just like how I do every day. “I think you are getting better at riding.”

“I think you are too kind to tell me the truth. I am horrible. I haven’t ridden one since I was 12.”

“I mean you said it, not me.” I laugh and Xavier joins me. We walk in a back way to Dr. Shirley's office. While entering in, Trevor is nowhere to be found. “Where did he go? Stay here. I’ll be back. I point to him to sit down by Shirley’s desk. I walk through the small hospital but no luck until the further down I walk through I see then open door. It opens to the laboratory to make homemade medicine. “There you are. What are you doing?” I see Trevor studying a pot of dead plants. In his hand, a clipboard to write down notes.

“Hey, thank goodness you are here. Can you do me a favor...why is he here?” He points behind me. When I turn, I see Xavier being nosy again.

“Xavier, I told you to wait.” I walk up to him to turn him around. His muscular stature won’t turn around as much as I force him to.

“I got bored and this is way cooler than sitting,” Xavier says.

“Again why is he here?” Trevor’s question causes Xavier to give him a death glare.

“He needs to help with some homework, so I was wondering if he can stay for a while,” I beg Trevor. “He will be on his best behavior. Right?” I look back to Xavier.

Xavier gave up his glare and relax his shoulders. The only way for him to stay if he shows some respect. “Right. I will play nice for Angel.” I smiled down at my feet to hide the warming of my cheeks at his comment.

“You can stay. Actually, I could use your help too.” Trevor’s sentence catches both Xavier and me off guard.

“Oh, yea. You needed a favor?” I say.

“So Angel remember that tree you burned? A couple of weeks ago?” He asks me. My head hangs low from embarrassment as Xavier gasps and laughs. “Anyways it was spotted by a couple of hikers and they started to ask questions. Alpha Monroe wants it back to normal before people get really suspicious.”

“You mean the one just north from here. I saw it too when I went for a run. I thought it was from…” Xavier comments in but finally gets it. “Wait are you saying Angel cause that. My little mate set a tree on fire. She so tiny that’s… so funny.” He laughs in between.

At this moment I want to hide underneath my bed and die from embarrassment. Why would Trevor say that in front of Xavier? It’s not a secret anymore but Xavier is still new to this. New to my psychic lifestyle. Where I don’t mean to blow up things. It is going to scare him off. My face starts growing red and hot. With my head still low my long hair becomes a security blanket from both of them.

“Yes, I remember.” I give in. “I didn't mean to. I was stressed when it happened.” I try to explain to Xavier. “I didn’t do it on purpose. Whenever my emotions kind of get a little off-balance, it can affect the weather.”

“Like when we were on the bleachers and you made it rain.”

“Ya, like that.” I try to hide away.

“Anyways…” Trevor tries to break the awkwardness. “You gotta fix it.”

“Trevor, I don’t know where to start. I looked in my mother’s books there's nothing about reviving a tree after you kill it with lightning. While I was on bed rest, I researched. Nothing.”

“I have been thinking. Even though there’s not an exact spell for it, you need to blend your healing and earth powers into one ...somehow.”

This should be interesting.

[dragon-temeraire]

The Hunter-Jumper Connection

Summary: Stiles is not expecting a male model in tall boots and breeches to emerge, smiling at him a little hesitantly, and he has to take half a second to remind himself to keep cool.

Notes: According to @smowkie, there are not enough sterek fics with horses. And since horses are one of my great passions, I figured I’d write a little something. There is a lot of English riding jargon in this fic, but you don’t really need to know it to understand the story. I’m just using it to set Stiles up as competent. But if you’d like to see the difference between hunter and jumper, I’m providing links below. (Fic on AO3)

Hunter: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kOT6a3ax37M&t=466s (this video is really long, sorry! Just watch a round or two to get the idea)

Jumper: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zFoEkASQNu0 (this is a jump-off, so it’s even more aggressive and fast than regular jumper rounds)

“Hey,” Erica says, just as Stiles is tugging off his boot. “You have a lesson trailering in, he should be here soon.”

“What?” Stiles says, pausing. “No, I don’t. I checked the schedule yesterday, and—”

“It was a last-minute add, but I knew you were free all afternoon,” Erica says sweetly. “I also know you’re trying to save money for a new hay shed, so.”

“You’re right,” Stiles sighs, looking at his sneakers longingly. He’d been planning to extensively groom Baxter and Mayor, his newest horses, to strengthen his bond with them. But if he wears his shoes into the arena, they’ll be full of dirt in no time. He shoves his foot back into his hot boot, starts lacing it up again. He loves being around horses, but he does not love wearing boots all day. “What’s the name?”

“Derek Hale. And it looks like he’s here,” Erica says, glancing out the window. “At least he’s parking in the right place.”

“Small mercies,” Stiles says, standing up and heading out the office door.

He walks around the little two-horse trailer to the driver’s side of the truck, and the door promptly swings open. Stiles is not expecting a male model in tall boots and breeches to emerge, smiling at him a little hesitantly, and he has to take half a second to remind himself to keep cool.

“Hi, you must be Derek,” he says, and the guy nods. “Can I see a negative Coggins?”

“Oh, of course,” Derek says, ducking back in the truck and handing Stiles the paperwork.

He looks over it carefully, then hands it back. “Thanks. Erica didn’t say much about you, so what are you wanting to work on today?”

“I’m a show-jumper,” Derek says, lowering the tailgate of the trailer. “And I get clear rounds pretty often, but my times are never that great. I want to improve my speed.”

“That can probably be achieved just by smoothing out your flatwork,” Stiles says, watching Derek carefully back a well-built bay warmblood out of the trailer. “But I won’t know until I see you ride.”

Derek just nods, ties his horse up to the side of the trailer. He’s clearly not a man of many words.

“Well, go ahead and get tacked up, and then you can head out to the covered arena to warm up. I’ll be out there in a minute,” Stiles says, then heads back to the office.

“Well,” Erica says, as soon as the door is shut behind him, “How is he? He sounded nice on the phone.”

“He sounds nice in person, too,” Stiles says, and realizes Erica couldn’t really see him from the office window. “He’s also super hot.”

Erica, terrible friend that she is, just laughs.

“Seriously, he looks like he stepped out of a riding-wear catalog. His breeches are really tight,” Stiles grumbles.

“I thought they were supposed to be?” Erica asks mildly, but Stiles can see her smirk.

“You’re enjoying this too much,” he says irritably, and heads back outside.

Derek’s already in the arena, trotting along the rail at an easy pace. Stiles heads for the center, watching Derek idly as he does. He seems like he knows what he’s doing, which is nice. It’s easier to work on refinement when someone’s already got the basics down.

“You ready?” he asks when Derek halts next to him.

“Warm enough for flatwork,” Derek says, shrugging.

“Okay, do a nice big figure-eight at a canter, with flying changes in between,” Stiles says, and watches Derek’s smooth transition from walk to canter.

He’s a little distracted by the muscling in Derek’s thighs, by the breadth of his shoulders, but more than anything he’s distracted by Derek’s riding ability. He’s comfortable in the saddle without being sloppy; he has good posture without being stiff. He keeps his horse’s pace even and steady, not too heavy on the forehand.

He does have a few issues Stiles thinks he can work on, though.

“Bring it down to a trot, but keep circling,” Stiles says, and Derek promptly complies. He watches critically, just to make sure, then says, “Your horse is not a bicycle, Derek. You can’t steer with just your hands. Stop gripping so much with your knee, let your weight flow down to your lower leg and then use it.”

Derek’s mouth flattens, and Stiles wonders if he’s angry at the critique, but quickly realizes that’s just Derek’s concentration-face.

“Okay, good,” Stiles says encouragingly. He has a reputation for being blunt, but he tries to provide praise when it’s due, too. “If you want the circle to be wider, don’t pull his head to the outside, push with your leg. And try to get him to actually bend with the curve. You’ll be faster on course if your horse doesn’t turn like a brick.”

He has Derek change direction, and he’s definitely getting better, but. “Come over here.” He waits until Derek is halted next to him before saying, “You gotta trust your horse, Derek. He’s well trained and responsive to your aids, but you keep trying to strong-arm him.” He taps Derek’s elbow without actually meaning to, and covers it by moving to pat the horse’s neck. “What’s his name, anyway?” He usually asks that question a lot sooner, but he’d been distracted at the time.

“Cooper,” Derek says.

“Well, Cooper’s a good one,” Stiles says, and steps back. “Okay, start walking.” Once Derek does, he says, “Now, loosen your reins. No, all the way to the buckle,” he adds when Derek looks at him hesitantly. “You’re going to weave between all of these jumps, steering with just your legs. And no breaking into a trot!” he warns. “Keep your contact light.”

He sits down on the mounting block to watch, because at a walk this is going to take a little while. He smiles when Derek automatically lifts his hands to make a turn, then immediately puts them back down. He’s clearly making an effort to do as Stiles asks, and Stiles appreciates that.

They get smoother toward the end, both horse and rider figuring out what they’re doing, and it’s not long before Derek is riding back up to him.

“See?” Stiles says, grinning. “That was great!”

Derek smiles back, broadly, and Stiles is pretty sure his heart trips over itself in his chest. He clears his throat, trying to cover his reaction, and glances away. “You’re a jumper, so we might as well do a little jumping. Start with that crossrail,” he says, pointing over to the little jump set up for beginners. “Don’t give me that look,” he says when he catches Derek’s expression. “We’re not working on your jumping skills, we’re working on your turning. So do the crossrail, then take a nice curving line to that oxer. Okay?”

Derek nods, comes around to take the little jump on a straight line. As Stiles expected, Derek’s horse pays it no mind, barely lifting his feet to get over it. But Derek’s leg is on a stride after they clear it, his hand gently guiding, and Cooper makes a neat turn and locks onto the oxer early, meaning Derek can adjust his stride to meet it confidently.

Stiles can’t help bouncing a little in excitement as they sail over it. He’s always loved seeing great riding in action.

“Awesome,” he says when Derek trots back over. “Now, let’s add a few more jumps to that.”

He has Derek do an entire course of bending lines and serpentines, and he nails it, with only one near-miss when he accidentally overcorrects Cooper with a too-aggressive hand.  

“Still gotta work on those stiff elbows,” Stiles says when Derek’s slowing down after the last fence. “But otherwise, you’re doing great. Just don’t forget to keep practicing, okay?”

“Of course,” Derek says, looking pleased. “You’ve been a great help.”

Stiles walks with him as he rides over to his trailer, and watches him efficiently untack Cooper. Once Derek’s traded the bridle for a halter, he turns to Stiles and asks, “You have a wash rack?”

“Yeah, down at the end of the aisle. I’ll show you,” Stiles says, leading him toward the barn.

Once he’s got Derek headed in the right direction, he steps into the tack room for his lesson horses. He makes sure no one put a sweaty saddle pad on the stack, straightens the brushes in the grooming kits, hangs the bridles more evenly on their hooks. He’s ostensibly neatening up, but really he’s just waiting for Derek to get back.

Soon enough there’s the clip clop of hooves down the aisle, and steps out to see Cooper, freshly hosed off, and Derek, only a little damp, heading his way.

“You can graze him over here,” Stiles says, leading the way. “If you have a little time to let him dry in the sun.”

“I was hoping to,” Derek says, letting out some of the lead line, and Cooper eagerly starts eating. He pulls him up after a few moments, leads him a few steps further before letting him tear into the grass again. “You’re not a jumper, are you? What kind of riding do you do?”

Stiles laughs. “You don’t know? Usually people who come for lessons with me know what I ride.”

Derek shrugs, looking a little embarrassed. “You came highly recommended, and I needed help quick, since I have a show in two days.” He shrugs. “So I didn’t ask too many questions.”

“Hey, it’s cool, I was just surprised. I do have jumpers come for lessons every now and again,” Stiles says easily. “But it’s usually hunter riders that want my help, since that’s what I ride.” He catches Derek’s look, grins. “I know, I don’t seem like hunter material.”

“Just seems a bit slow and steady for you,” Derek says.

“Well, I used to do jumper. I was pretty wild when I was a kid, untrained but too brave, and I did a lot of reckless seat-of-my-pants riding. And it just got worse, after—my dad eventually got tired of it, and hired a trainer to teach me hunter. Made me focus on my form, on control, on a steady and well-paced ride. He wouldn’t let me compete in anything except hunter. And at first I was terrible. Sloppy and undisciplined. And for a long while, I hated hunter and everything about it. But eventually I began to appreciate the value of being a solid, reliable rider. Someone who could get the exact number of strides they wanted between fences. Someone with good form, that made it easier for the horse to carry them. Someone who used the lightest aids possible to get the response they wanted. And I became very competitive.”

Derek grins. “I could see that.”

Stiles grins back. “I won the Maclay before I aged out. Won a bunch of other things, too. And I did it all while looking impeccable,” he says, elbowing Derek playfully.

“Yeah, not so much a thing in the jumper ring,” Derek says, laughing. “Except maybe at grand prix level.”

All of them, including Cooper, are startled when Derek’s phone goes off. “Sorry,” Derek says, silencing it. He takes another look at the screen. “Shoot, I didn’t realize the time. I better get going. Thank you again for all your help,” he says, extending his hand.

Stiles shakes it cheerfully. “Anytime,” he says, meaning it. He’d really love to see Derek again, even if it’s just for another lesson.

He watches Derek load up and make his way down the long driveway, then heads back inside the office. “Not a word,” he says to Erica, who simply mocks him with facial expressions instead.

He sits down in his part of the office, clicks through his emails, and pointedly reminds himself that he probably won’t see Derek again.

 *

 He’s in the crossties, trying to untangle Jake’s mane, when there’s a soft sound behind him.

When he turns, he sees Derek standing in the aisle, a little smile on his face.

“Shit, do you have another lesson I didn’t know about?” he blurts, because he wouldn’t put that past Erica.

“No, don’t worry,” Derek says, laughing. “I just didn’t have a chance to really see the place last time I was here.” He glances around at the stalls. “It seems nice.”

Stiles shakes his head. “You don’t have to be polite, I know it’s kind of run down. It was my mom’s dream to have a stable, and even though he never really got that into horses, my dad did his best to keep it running. Now I mostly handle things, though he still comes around to help out, sometimes. And comes to see me ride, when I have the chance to actually do that,” he says wryly, going back to Jake’s mane.

“The stable looks pretty great to me,” Derek says softly, moving around to his other side.

When Stiles glances over, he sees Derek’s grabbed a comb, and is neatly unknotting a section of mane. “I used to be a groom,” he says when he catches Stiles watching. “Don’t be too impressed. I was a kid, I had nimble hands. Of course they were going to have me braiding and detangling.”  

“You still have the knack,” Stiles says, pulling leaves and twigs out of another clump of mane. “And I appreciate it, because I was considering roaching it if I couldn’t get it combed out. This old boy likes rolling too much, and the tangles get pretty bad.”

He ends up leaving the mane to Derek, since he’s making great progress, and brushes out Jake’s tail, which isn’t nearly so snarled up.

When they’re done, he says, “I’m going to turn him out in the back pasture, want to come?”

“Sure,” Derek says, stepping out of the way as Stiles unclips Jake and leads him out.

“He’s retired,” Stiles explains as they head behind the barn and pass the hay shed. “So he mostly spends his days with the other old folks out in the pasture, living the dream.”

“It’s nice that you keep them,” Derek says, patting Jake’s neck fondly.

“Can’t quite bear to let them go,” Stiles says, shrugging. “Besides, it gives the younger riders some gentle horses to dote on. Jake here is happy to be brushed for hours.”

“Can’t say I blame him,” Derek says. “Horses like affection as much as people do.”

Stiles nods. “Hey, before I forget to ask—how’d you and Cooper do at the show?”

“Got third place,” Derek says, looking pleased. “Better than we’ve done for a while. Our jump-off round wasn’t that fast, but it was smooth, and that made a big difference.” He shrugs. “Still got some work to do, though.”  

“That’s great, I’m glad you placed,” Stiles says, unlatching the pasture gate and leading Jake in. Derek helpfully swings it shut behind him. “Are you thinking about coming back for another lesson?”

“That depends,” Derek says.

Stiles lets Jake loose, steps back out of the pasture and latches the gate behind him. “Depends on what?” he asks, searching Derek’s face.

“On whether or not you’ll date a student,” Derek says, his smile suddenly looking nervous.

“What? My policy is—oh. You want to date me?”

“If that’s okay,” Derek says tentatively. “Can I take you out tonight?”

“I’d love to,” Stiles says, smiling what is probably an absurd amount. “But I have lessons until five, and then I have to feed everyone after that, so. Is that going to be too late?”

“How about I pick something up, and we can eat here?” Derek says easily, looking pleased by the prospect. “Then you don’t have to feel rushed.”

“That’d be great,” Stiles says, and can’t resist brushing a hand across Derek’s shoulder before they head back to the stable. “I’m looking forward to it.”

 *

 It’s probably not the most romantic first date, eating pizza in the empty breakroom of his stable’s office, the sound of horses stomping and whinnying in the background, and, despite Stiles’ best efforts, the whole place smelling faintly of hay and grain. But despite all that, he thinks it’s pretty perfect. And judging by the smile on Derek’s face, he thinks so, too.