#talia puts pen to paper

[writtenbymisunderstoodnerds]

Falling in love again (Christen Press x Reader)

Writers block is being a pain at the moment so sorry it's been a while since I posted. I'll be back to trying to write my list of requests in a few weeks when I'm back from holiday. This wasn't requested, just a random idea and probably not very good but I hope you like it!

Warnings: Death of a partner, grief. If you find anything else let me know and I'll add it!

Words: 4.3K

---

Almost two years had passed since I lost my person. The person I thought I would spend my life with, the person I loved more than I thought it was possible to love someone. Life was cruel like that, giving you a person who understood you, who loved you so deeply, only to rip it away in the worst way possible. The day the phone call came, telling me Talia had been in an accident that claimed her life was a blur. Honestly, at times it still felt like a dream. The overwhelming grief, disbelief and fear I felt that day still ever present if I thought back to it. 

I had almost quit soccer for good after that, but I knew she wouldn't want me too. Talia loved watching me play, she knew how much I loved it, always encouraging me and supporting me in everything I did. So I kept going, every game I played, I played for her. The grief had faded since then. It was always there, it always would be, some days were worse than others, but it was bearable. It didn't consume me like it once had.   

One of the things Talia used to love was colouring in my tattoos. Not that I would have admitted it to her, but once we started dating, my new tattoos were purely designed so she could colour them. Our spare time was often spent with her colouring them while I drew or did random stuff. It was something I found myself doing often, especially when I was missing her.

Someone sat down next to me as I slowly coloured in one of the many tattoos scattered over my body. I didn't pay them much attention, continuing colouring, "What are you doing?"

I shrugged, not looking up at Emily, "Colouring."

"Is she colouring in her tattoos again?" Kelley asked sitting across from us.

"Yup, we really need to get her paper or a colouring book."

"Have you ever noticed even when there's paper around she still does it? Look at how comfortable and peaceful she looks. It's like a built in stress relief." I fought the urge to chuckle at how they talked as if I wasn't there. To be fair I was only half listening. 

"Why do you colour in your tattoos?"

I sighed, putting down the pen. The team had been bugging me for months now about it. These were some of the people I trusted most in the world, there was no reason to keep hiding it from them. "It reminds me of my wife. She would sit there for hours colouring in my tattoos while I drew. It became sort of a routine."

"You're married? You don't wear a ring."

I pulled the chain around my neck that held a simple black band and a silver band with a line of diamonds. "Mine and hers," I took a deep breath trying to control my emotions, "She died almost 2 years ago, I only take it off for games."

"God Y/n, I'm so sorry," Ali said, pulling me in for a quick hug.

Alex was the next to pull me into a tight hug, "How come we never knew? We've known you longer then two years?"

"No one knew except our close friends and family. At the time we weren't as close as we are now and I guess I couldn't bring myself to mention it after. We never specifically hid it, just didn't put it out there. She never wanted to the world to know who she was. Never wanted who she was with to impact her kids."

"She had kids?"

"She was a teacher at a school for kids with disabilities. They meant the world to her, she would do anything for them. It was always a worry that her suddenly being known would affect her job in some way."

"It sounds like she was an amazing person. I'm sad we never got to meet her."

"You did, you just never knew who she was to me."

"Talia? I remember you mentioning that she passed away and that's why you took that break," Alyssa asked.

"Yup, we had been married 4 years the day you met her."

"That's why you completely disappeared that day then wouldn't tell us why."

A small smile appeared on my face remembering that day. We had booked a hotel room, ordered way to much room service, gave each other massages, then had a bath and watched movies. It was simple, but one of my favourite nights besides the day we got married, "She had flown in that weekend just so we could celebrate our anniversary. We never spent one apart."

---

Christen sat down on her bed, staring up at me for a second before speaking, "That's why you turn everyone down when they ask you out? Including me."

There had been many people over the years that had asked me on dates, all being turned down for obvious reasons. Christen had been one of them though, about a year after Talia passed. Besides Talia, Christen was the only person I could actually see myself with if I ever got to a point where I felt ready. That wasn't now, but part of me hoped it would happen soon. Despite the guilt and grief that was there, I wanted the chance to be happy again with someone. We had talked about it a few times and neither of us wanted the other to hold on for too long. Talia would want me to be happy, to move on and one day, when the time was right, I would.

I sighed sitting down next to Christen. Sitting or lying on the others bed was a pretty common occurrence when we roomed together. "You know I know she would want me to be happy, but every time I even think about starting to date again, it feels like I'm betraying her. Like if I start something, I'll forget her."

"You'll never forget her. No matter what you're doing or who you're with, she will always be in your heart. She'll always be your person, but you can love someone else while still loving her just as much as you always have. It's not one or the other and if the next person doesn't understand that then they aren't worth the time. There's no rush to move on."

"Thanks Chris. Out of all the people that have asked me out, you're the only one I thought about saying yes to. I'm sorry I wasn't ready."

Christen placed her hand on my knee, squeezing gently. Something that always seemed to make me feel peace. "Don't be. I always knew there was a slim chance of you saying yes and I accepted that. I was just happy that it didn't change our friendship."

"Would you still be open to that date? Not right now, but sometime in the near future."

"Of course I would. There's no rush or pressure though Y/n/n, whenever you're ready, I'm ready. And if you're never ready that's okay too."

--- Today was two years since Talia was taken. Of course it was game day. When I realised the date it was like a weight was sitting on my chest. Christen was still asleep so I slipped quietly into the bathroom to shower and let the tears out. I had originally been thinking about pulling out of the game, but after my shower I was actually feeling okay to play. I was determined to win for her. 

The final whistle blew as I clung onto whoever was closest, my knees trying to give out on me. The rush of emotions I felt was not what I expected. Happiness, relief, grief all rushing through me as I tried to hold it together in front of everyone. Letting my emotions show in front of friends or family was hard enough, I didn't need that happening in front of the fans. 

I managed to hold it together enough to greet the fans before we made our way to the locker room. As I put the necklace back on, I broke. Tears silently streaming down my cheeks before a sob forced it's way out. Instantly, Ali's arms wrapped around me tightly as I sobbed into her shoulder. I didn't like crying in front of people, but there was no stopping it. So for once, I just let it out with the comfort of the people I trusted most. 

Once I had calmed down, Ali finally spoke up, "What's going on Y/n/n?"

"I-it's been 2 years sin-since- I'm sorry."

Ali's arms tightened as another hand squeezed mine, "Never apologise for feeling how you feel. You can always feel how you feel with us. We've got you always."

We spent longer in the locker room than we normally would as the girls took turns comforting me and making sure I was okay before we left. After dinner, most of the team ended up in one of the rooms for team bonding. There were quite a few questions about Talia, normally I didn't talk about her much because of the emotions it brings up, but everyone seemed genuinely interested in her.  Also, talking about her was actually quite therapeutic.  

Even though it was therapeutic, talking about Talia still brought up emotions so I had found myself cuddled up with Ali for comfort. I had almost went to Christen for comfort, but the guilt had started to creep in again making me decide against it.

"How old were you when you got married? It must have been quite young," Tierna asked.  

"We were. We started dating at 19, married at 23.  Possibly too young in some peoples opinions, but at the time we just got the idea in our heads and went with it. I proposed and 2 months later we were married. My time with Talia was incredible, it was fun and low maintenance. We met in college when we both didn't have a lot of money, most of our dates in our first few years were picnics, walks or movie nights. 

I mean our first anniversary, we made each other homemade cards. Talia got me marshmallows because I was obsessed with them at the time and I got her chocolate and gummy bears. We ended up at the beach, making smores before going back to my apartment and making pasta for dinner. To this day that was probably one one of my favourites. Talia never cared about fancy or expensive things, that never changed the further I got in my professional career or as our money situation changed. She was just happy if we were together."

I knew I was rambling, but I couldn't help myself. Talking about Talia before I lost her was one of my favourite things. The girls didn't seem to mind though as everyone's attention seemed to be completely on me. "She sounds like she was an incredible person."

"She was. I think she would have gotten along with all of you. Especially Emily and Kelley. Talia loved pranks and just being annoying. She wrapped up a carrot and gave it to me more than once, she would pull little pranks all the time or poke and prod at me constantly."

Later that night, Christen got my attention as I slipped into my bed, "Hey, you doing okay? I know today was hard."

"It was, but I'm feeling okay right now. I think talking about her helped. I've never really let myself because of the emotions it brings up. Turns out it's quite freeing to talk about her."

"The team would agree, it was nice to hear about her. I can see how much you love her."

"It's uh not weird for you is it?"

"No. Y/n, she was your wife, you love her, you always will. I know that. If we were to eventually get to a point past friendship, I would never expect anything else. You can talk to me about her whenever you want and I don't want you to feel bad about it."

"Thank you Chris. I don't want you to think I'm leading you on or anything. I have every intention of asking you on a date, I just need a bit of time."

"Hey, I don't think that at all. Like I said, there is no rush, there's no expectations."

---

It had been about six months since mine and Christen's initial conversation. I was finally feeling like I was ready to try dating again, all I had to do was ask. It had taken longer than I thought it would and a part of me was thinking that Christen would have lost interest by now or just didn't want to deal with my past. A part of me was tempted to not ask, to save myself from rejection, but I also knew there was no way to know unless I asked. 

"So."

"So?"

I took a deep breath, trying to clear some of the nerves that had been building. I had never asked one out let alone dated anyone else besides Talia. Christen sent me a small smile, the nerves melting away when I saw the adoration in her eyes. "Will you go on a date with me Chris?"

"You're ready for that?"

"I think so, I've been thinking about it a lot recently. It's just this is something I haven't done with anyone besides Talia so I might not be perfect or even close to it, but I'll try."

"I would love to Y/n. Just tell me if we go on this date and you realise you're not ready. I'll understand. You also don't have to be perfect, we'll figure this out as we go okay?"

"Thank you Chris. I'll pick you up at 6?"

"We're sharing a room."

"I'm going to get ready in Ali and Alex's room, that way I can pick you up."

"And they say chivalry is dead." 

---

Trying to plan a date was so far out of my comfort zone that I didn't even know where to start. Of course I had been on many dates with Talia, but that was different. It had been 10 or so years since my first and only first date. I knew Talia like the back of my hand, I knew what she liked, where she liked to go. Christen on the other hand, I knew her, but to a far lesser extent which was making me overthink. What if she didn't like what I planned? What if I did too much or not enough? 

Before I could continue to spiral, I decided to enlist the help of Tobin. Normally I would go to Ali, but Tobin was Christens bestfriend. 

"You okay Y/n?"

"No. Well yes but also no. Christen and I are going on a date tonight and I'm freaking out. I cannot for the life of me decide what to do. Every time something comes to mind, I convince myself that it's not enough. Chris will be the second person I've ever taken on a date, it needs to be perfect."

Tobin led me to sit on the bed as I had started to pace across the room. "Don't tell her I told you, but Chris doesn't care what you do, she's just happy to go out with you. Tell me your ideas?"

"I know she likes parks or gardens, beaches, picnics, museums, that sort of thing. There's not a beach around otherwise I would take her there and it'll be too late to take her to the museum but I found a nice park the other day. It has a lake and there were heaps of like lights and stuff. Was thinking picking up some takeaway and other bits to have a picnic at the park, but it doesn't seem like enough."

"Y/n, that is perfect. I know this is pretty much completely new to you, but you just need to try relax a little bit. You know Chris, she's your friend, you know what she likes. She's going to love a picnic in the park, maybe a walk around after."

"Thank you Tobs."

"Hey Y/n?"

"Yeah?"

"Chris is going into this knowing there's a chance you realise you're not ready and she'll understand that, everyone will. There'll be no hard feelings or anything. Just if that happens, please tell her sooner rather than later. I know you won't do it on purpose, but I don't want her to get her hopes up."

"I will. This wasn't a decision I made lightly, I feel ready and I'm really hoping I am. I admit, it does feel a bit weird, but I really like her Tobin. The last thing I want to do is hurt her."

Tobin smiled slightly, pulling me into a quick hug, "I know and so does Chris. Just take it one step at a time, you don't need to rush anything or do anything that doesn't feel right."

After one last hug I made my way to the door, "Thanks Tobs, I should go get ready before I make myself late."

Before heading back to my room, I ran down to the shop to get a few things. Picking out what to buy took longer than it should have. Everything I thought about buying, I ended up second guessing if Christen actually liked it. Time was running out though so I ended up picking out some wine I thought she liked and some other picnic type things.

Despite almost making myself late, I knocked on the door at exactly 6 pm, trying my best to push down the nerves. Tobin was right, Christen was my friend, I knew she didn't expect or even really like some fancy date. There was no real reason to be this nervous. Part of it was probably because of how new it was, part of me was second guessing if I was truly ready for this, but I think that was due to nerves and not wanting to hurt Christen. Another part was because it was Christen. Gorgeous, kind, thoughtful Christen. Anyone in their right mind would be nervous to be going on a date with her. 

"Hi Y/n/n."

"Hi."

Christen smiled, kissing my cheek softly, "You okay?" 

"A bit nervous, but I'm okay. You ready to go?"

We made our way out of the hotel, stopping to pick up takeaway before starting the ten minute walk to the park. Christen didn't ask about what we were doing, instead making random conversation. Knowing I was nervous, I had a feeling she was doing it on purpose to try calm me down. It was definitely working, my nerves were fading away the longer we talked and I wasn't thinking so much about if it was enough. Instead, I was letting myself be excited about it. 

When we got to the park, Christens eyes lit up as she looked around. I found a nice spot by the lake, spreading everything out on the blanket as Christen got comfortable. "How'd you find this place? It's beautiful."

"I stumbled upon it when I went for a walk the other night."

"You went for a walk, alone at night?"

"Maybe not my best idea, but I needed to clear my head away from our room, away from the hotel."

Concern covered Christens face as she straightened slightly, "Away from our room? Was I doing something wrong?"

"No, no you didn't do anything. I was trying to figure out if I asked you out or not. I guess I was worried that I had left it too long and maybe you weren't interested anymore. I also felt a bit guilty, making you wait so long. It seems unfair to you. Got in my head about it I guess. If you can't tell, I'm a bit of an overthinker sometimes."

"Well I'm glad you did. This wasn't unfair to me, I promise. You were honest about everything Y/n, you didn't give me false hope or lie to me. That was all I could ask of you. Are you feeling okay about this?"

"I am. Honestly, it feels a little bit weird which maybe you don't want to hear, but I'm really having a good time."

Christen smiled, taking my hand gently, "Look, I don't get how it feels, but I will never dismiss anything you're feeling. You can always talk to me about it. It's okay for it to feel weird because it probably is for you, I don't take offence to that."

"Thank you. Now lets eat before it gets cold."

We spent the next couple of hours talking about anything we could think of. There had never been anyone but Talia that I could talk to so comfortably without running out of things to talk about. That was until Christen came along. Long before there were any feelings, there had always been something about her that made me feel comfortable talking to her about things. Now I craved the conversations I could have with her. I wanted to get to know her more, from the mundane to the personal. 

Conversation continued as we walked around the park hand in hand then back to the hotel when it started to get late. The nerves had long faded by now, instead being replaced by giddiness and maybe butterflies. Going on a date with Christen felt right. Despite the lingering guilt, I knew Talia would approve. I knew that out of anyone to move on with she would have chosen Christen for me. That in itself brought a sense of peace. 

---

Christen slipped under the blankets on her bed, pulling me down with her. I laughed as she wrapped her arms around my shoulders, mumbling something about wanting cuddles. Pulling her closer, I left a soft kiss against her forehead before speaking. "You want me to sleep in your bed tonight?" 

Christen just nodded. We had just got back from our fifth date in two weeks. They could have been spaced out since we lived in the same city, but I felt like a smitten teenager again. Instead of the nerves that plagued me for our first date, I was excited about the dates. Maybe to some it was too many too quick, but I didn't care and Christen didn't seem to either.

Despite the amount of dates we had been on, we were planning on taking things slow. It was my idea to take it slow as this was something I hadn't done in a long time. We had kissed for the first time at the end of the last one, but even though we were rooming together, we hadn't slept in the same bed yet.

"That can be arranged, but I need to get changed and brush my teeth." She groaned dramatically, but let me go with a pout. After completing my nightly routine, I took my necklace off, putting it next to the bed. It felt unfair to Christen to be sleeping in the same bed as her while still wearing my wife's ring.

"What are you doing?"

"Taking it off."

"Because you want to or because you feel you have to?" I just shrugged, Christen stood up, grabbing the necklace and putting it back around my neck before her arms wrapped around my waist from behind. "I will never make you take this off. I never want you to feel like you have to for me okay? You will always love her and that's okay. It doesn't mean you can't have that love for someone else as well."

I nodded leaning back into her. One of my biggest fears with dating someone new was that they wouldn't understand or get mad at the fact that I will always be in love with someone else. That person just happened to not be here anymore. It was scary that I already felt myself falling for Christen, she was just such a beautiful person, inside and out. I don't think I could stop myself from falling even if I wanted to.

---

Christen and I were lying on my bed as the movie credits started to play. We were supposed to go out, but I wasn't feeling up to it. Talia's birthday was in a few days and I had been thinking about her a lot. No matter how much time passed, I still missed her just as much. I was feeling somewhat guilty about the new realisation that I was in love with Christen, like I was being unfaithful to Talia. I felt guilty a lot when Christen and I first started dating. It had mostly faded over the 6 months we had been together, though it always got worse near dates to do with Talia. I just had to keep reminding myself that there was nothing to feel guilty about and that she would be happy for me.

"I hope she's proud of me," I stated quietly, mostly to myself.

Christen turned her head slightly, "Maybe I didn't know her very well, but I know she is. You've come so far in your life and career. You are an amazing person, anyone would be proud of you."

"Sometimes I wish I could have one last conversation with her. See what she thinks of my life, where I am, who I'm with. I still talk to her sometimes, almost expecting a response, but of course it'll never come."

Her fingers laced with mine, squeezing slightly, "I'm sure she's listening and she's happy that you're living the life you want. That's what the people who love us should want for us."

I rolled over so I could look at her properly, brushing a piece of hair out of her face, "Have I ever thanked you? For letting me talk about her, for understanding that me loving her doesn't take away from what I feel for you, for always being there for me on days like our anniversary, or her birthday or the anniversary of her death. It's something I am forever grateful for Chris."

"I will always do all of those things, you don't ever need to thank me. I love you Y/n, I'll always be there for you no matter what."

"Y-you love me?"

"I do. You don't have to say it back, I just wanted you to know."

I kissed her softly, trying to show everything I was feeling, "I love you Chris."

[supercap2319]

I was wonder if you could do an x male reader for Peter Hale. Where it’s Young Peter and Peter just realized male reader is his mate after catching his scent. And he just trips on his own face in the middle of the high school halls because that where Peter first caught their scent

Peter learned about mates from such a young age. His older sister, Talia, would tell him stories of what it would be like to have and mate, and when Peter would find his, he would know. He thought that Corinne might be his true mate. She was cute enough, but maybe it was more hormonal than true love.

He pushed his way through the hallways of Beacon Hills. Nothing bad or exciting ever happened here. Peter's family was the only pack in town. Of course, there were the Argents, specifically, Chris Argent, in almost every single one of Peter's classes. Peter knew that he would turn out to be just like the rest of his family. Hunters. Hunters of Peter's kind. Of werewolves.

Maybe Peter would go visit his sister after school and his two year old nephew, Derek. Catch a movie or go for a run in the woods. Whatever Peter's original plans were going to be were put to a stop as he inhaled something sweet and sharp. Almost like a cinnamon scent. Peter felt his inner wolf howl with delight as his eyes flashed gold for a second, and his claws and canines came out. What the hell was going on? Why was he shifting in the middle of the hallway....

Then Peter saw him: Y/N L/N.

Y/N was on the basketball team with Noah Stilinski. He was a golden boy. He was kind to all, and he was fucking burning Peter's nose with his scent. The smell of cinnamon was all over him, and Peter realized that this mortal boy was his mate. A male was his mate? Who would have guessed it?

Peter was so caught up in Y/N's smell that he accidentally tripped over his own two feet and came crashing to the floor in the middle of the hallway. Books, pens, papers, and Peter's Walkman of Nirvana went all across the floor. The sounds of laughter and ridicule were heavy on Peter's ears as the entire hallway saw his little slip up and started laughing and pointing at him.

The young werewolf would have gladly tore through everyone in school, especially, Argent, but the calming scent of his mate filled his nose, and Peter watched as Y/N kneeled down beside him and helped him pick up his stuff. "Shit, man. You okay?" Y/N asked once Peter was on his feet again.

Peter's head was still dizzy from his mate's scent, and it took everything Peter had not to take him right then and there in the hallway. He swallowed. "Yeah. Thanks, man. Guess I slipped on the floor wax." It was a lame excuse, but Y/N didn't seem to be interested in Peter's lies. He was looking at a cassette Peter's Walkman had dropped. "Dude, you like Pearl Jam and Metallica too? I love these guys."

Peter looked at him and smirked. "Me too. Maybe we should hang out sometime and listen to them?"

"Definitely." Y/N smiled.

The bell rang as Y/N looked at Peter. "Better get to class. Hope you're okay, Peter."

"Thanks for the help, Y/N." Peter smiled as the young man flashed him a smile and left as Peter finally found his mate.

[the-fluffiest-trainer]

[A video is attached. It is security footage from the labs, in a hallway somewhere. Talia the gardevoir and Osha the absol are walking together, quickly, glancing at every door they pass and then moving on.]

[Once they move out of frame, the video cuts to footage from a different camera. This one is a wider hallway, at a right angle to the first as seen by the two pokemon's paths as they enter, and all along the far side are doors formed of metal bars. Opposite them, roughly in the middle of the long room, there is a desk and chair.]

Hello? Is anyone there?

[The two pokemon look at each other, then hurry faster toward the voice. They stop in front of one of the cell doors near the desk.]

Oh, just loose pokemon. Of course.

Just? Gardevoir are psychic types.

[The scientist Bryony comes to the door and wraps both hands around the bars as she looks out.]

Hey! You understand me, right? Can you get us out of here?

[Talia levitates a pen from the desk and uses it to scribble a few words onto a pad of paper, then sends the pad hovering in front of the bars.]

What do you mean, why should you? Whose pokemon are you, anyway?

[Talia writes on the paper again, just a single name. Beside Bryony, the scientist Celosia appears at the door as well.]

Twilight's friend, of course... Here to stop the Ultimate Weapon, no doubt.

I think she did stop it. Even down here, we'd have felt it if it had been fired already.

Look. Gardevoir. We're in prison here because I also tried to stop Lysandre. That puts us on the same side, right?

[A longer message is written out and presented to the two scientists in the cell.]

The intercom? What do you care about that?

Let us out, and I'll take you there! Okay?

[Another message.]

Well you'll just have to trust us, I guess. I can say I won't betray you, but if you don't believe me...

[Talia turns away from the cell door, and fires a moonblast into the solid concrete wall.]

You wouldn't dare. What would your trainer think?

I think we're in desperate times here, Bry. We can't expect people not to take desperate measures.

...I suppose it's not like we could expect better from Lys either, at this point. If he sees us out of this cell, he'll assume we're even more traitors than he already thinks of us, and probably cast us out to die. Five years giving my all to this team and this is how he repays us when things finally start working out...

[Talia writes another sentence on the page, then tears it off the pad and levitates it through the bars where Celosia takes it from the air. The gardevoir then takes a step to the side and focuses intently on the lock on the door, telekinetically probing its interior and manipulating the tiny pins into place.]

[The lock pops open, and Bryony grabs at it and twists it out of the latch before Talia's psychic powers even get the chance. The two scientists hurry out into the main room as if worrying Talia might change her mind, and shut and lock the cell behind them.]

Thank you. The intercom control is this way. If you were coming from the Ultimate Weapon, you already missed the turn.

Yeah, back that way is just the king's cell, and I guess the legendaries if you keep going.

[Immediately, the sheet of paper is yanked from Celosia's hand and Talia presses it against the wall to write a new message. She also makes some unintelligible noises directed at Osha, and the absol meows once in response.]

[Talia hurries down the hallway in the opposite direction, away from the camera, while Osha and the scientists walk back in the direction of the Ultimate Weapon's room. Celosia watches her go, then looks down at Osha and shrugs.]

...Alright then. I don't know what you're possibly going to make an announcement about, but who am I to disagree with our new pony overlords? Come on, it's this way.

[At the far end of the prison hall, Talia can just barely be seen unlocking another cell door, with the pad of paper floating in the air behind her. Meanwhile, at the nearer end, the two humans and Osha go together through the door and out of view.]

[Video ends.]

[jp-todd-rp]

bold which habits your muse has

nail biting | throat clearing | lying | interrupting | chewing the ends of pens | smoking | swearing | knuckle cracking | thumb sucking | muttering under their breath | talking to themselves | nose picking | binge drinking | oversleeping | snacking between meals | skipping meals | picking at skin | impulse buying | talking with their mouth full | humming/singing to themselves | chewing gum | leg jiggling | foot tapping | hair twirling |whistling | eye rolling | licking lips | sniffing | squinting | rubbing hands together | jaw clenching | gesturing while talking | putting feet up on tables | tucking hair behind ears | chewing lips | crossing arms over chest | putting hands on hips | rubbing the back or their neck | being late | procrastinating | doodling | shredding paper | peeling off bottle labels | forgetfulness | running hands through hair | overreacting | teeth grinding | nostril flaring | slouching | pacing | drumming fingers | fist clenching | pinching bridge of nose | rubbing temples | rolling shoulders

tagged by @darkmercury

tagging @adventurepunks (for Talia) @babs-gordon-girl-genius @freckledarcher @masquenoire @broose-wayne @whxlmedwing @cxpedcrusxder

[booksandchainmail]

Pale 8.4

"Jess had an escape route ready, but it was close."

I like that Zed nicknames people, I think he's the only person we've seen not use a full first name on Jessica and Nicolette

My advice was that you might want to focus on those who would actually take the time and make the effort, ignoring everyone who might be powerful and upset, but ultimately irrelevant once they go home

so the Tedds have been brought up for this, I'm concerned about Fernanda. Not sure who else? Maybe the Hennigars, they seem prone to violent solutions and might have an additional grudge for having Alpeana go after Mccauleigh. I don't think we know enough about the personalities of most junior students to speculate. Concerned about Chase and Tanner (and Wye) though.

for now, part of what I’m passing on is a recommendation: steer clear of the Tedds, and stay away from the Belangers.

right, forgot the Belangers were brought up last chapter for this

“So those things bundled together are numero uno.  Number two?  Can you throw a cold drink at Verona on Avery’s behalf?”

yeah she deserves that

“Just wanted to say I miss having you around and stuff.  Glad you’re doing this, hope it’s doing what you need it to, but I’ll be glad when you’re back.”

awww. And this is exactly the kind of reassurance I was hoping Avery would get. That talk Lucy had with her therapist did wonders

“Is this a Talia type of situation?” Verona asked.  “Scary mom?” “Very scary, but not at all like Talia’s.”

yeah, giving a pre-teen easy access to explosions seems more like poor judgement than abuse. It's something that he can control, and doesn't seem to be an active danger or something that comes with cruel stipulations

“Ohhh, she’s close to Durocher,” Verona commented.  “Cheeky-kissy close.”

... I mean, Durocher is probably french-canadian, so that might not mean much (do french canadians do cheek kisses as much as french europeans do?)

“Nooo,” Sol groaned out the word.

I'm reminded of the horrible teens from Gideon the Ninth

and, of course, most challenging of all, I’m a mom.

why would you ever say this in front of classroom containing your son.

“This is the first year I get to teach a class with my son attending.  Sol!?  Where are you?  Looking through the benches, Sol?  Sol!  Solarisse Blaze Ferguson, I hope you’re in this class!”

oh no. That name. I was assuming Sol was short for Solomon or something. No wonder he only lists the nickname on the student directory.

“I…” Mrs. Ferguson said, touching the edge of her palm to a partial diagram on her arm- A violent blast of wind scattered papers all across the room, made students lose their pens and pencils, and made pages flip in books and notebooks that sat open throughout the retrofitted church. “Love…” she touched another portion of her arm. A geyser of flame shot through the middle of the room, over the heads of students who were already ducking low. “Elemental practice!” The third point of contact produced a spray of water. Droplets reached Lucy, moisture dotting the page she had just opened.

nevermind she's great

“Then if you don’t know, it’s your own fault.  Figure it out, now.  It’s dying, by the way.” Sol’s posture was rigid as he read through the page, turned it over, and read the list on the back.

yeah, this is a nightmare. We've seen some other teachers use their children/apprentices as class assistants, or even things that seemed more like tests for the assistant as well as the class. But putting him up in front of everyone else, with no distractions, and quizzing and criticizing him like this... no wonder he didn't want to go to class

“I’d like to get to know my son’s schoolmates and friends.  I’ve heard your name, I’d like your help for the demonstration, if you please.” “We’ve never really talked, but I’ll help out,” Raquel said

ouch

"The human body. You are a very pretty young lady, Raquel. You seem to be in good health, fit." “If you’d face my son?  Sol, stand here?” “Describe her,” his mother said. “As detailed as possible, now."

this is actively worse than when one of my middle school teachers made us feel each others heartbeats

Raymond: You found him? Wye:  No.  It bothers me I can’t.

ok, seems like they're suspicious but don't know for sure. I'm hoping they won't figure it out until the Kennet Trio are safely home. Though I guess if it gets figured out soon, the girls have the protection of being students

Wye: No.  This wasn’t him.  The car interior was torched, I found his wallet and phone in the muck.  His wand, too. Raymond: You think he’s dead?

well. I guess I will find out how it goes! I wonder if they're going to be immediately suspicious of the girls? I feel like it's logical to look at people involved in the conflict at the school first, but maybe they'll feel its implausible power-wise and think some other enemy of hi seized the opportunity? For motives, the Kennet Trio had openly opposed him, but also were even more anti-Bristow. And having got rid of one headmaster right beforehand does not make them look innocent. Other people with motivation... some of the Aware, Nicolette, teachers who sided with Bristow

“They think Alexander might be dead,” Lucy whispered to Verona, picking her words very carefully.

I hope Verona (or Avery) don't start trying to solve this murder, maybe in an attempt to prove their innocence

Fernanda hadn’t really taken a side in the whole back-and-forth thing, and she’d settled in the middle when they’d made their final play against Bristow. To go from that, to being this unhappy?

Given that the major factor holding up her family was Chase's apprenticeship, I'd imagine that losing both potential sponsors comes as a blow. Probably an element in how other students are treating them as well: the Kennet Trio wiped out two useful patrons and showed themselves as uninterested in standard, low-grade social climbing

Students who’d been for Alexander who looked like they’d had something important ripped from them. She hadn’t realized how much they cared.

even leaving aside pragmatic concerns, he's been some of their teacher for four years

Nicolette is the person who knows the most that the Kennet Trio had a motive, but I think her oaths might prevent her from revealing it? Though there were other members of the circle there for the negotiation as well (Chase and Wye)

[spaceagebachelormann]

being best friends with the st. cassian chamber choir members would include…

pairings: st. cassian chamber choir x gn reader

warnings: me struggling to find good gifs, ocean being a mediocre friend, ricky being weird, no genuine warnings,

masterlist

Ocean O’Connell Rosenburg

refuses to let you read smut

if you bring it up she starts screaming and throwing stuff at you and begging you not to read smut

she still treats you horribly, but like it’s not as horrible as the way she treats everyone else

has somehow read every shakespeare play, and talks to you about them for hours

FORGETS YOU AT WALMART

when you get mad at her for forgetting you she just assumes your joking

physically affectionate with her friends but it’s a lot more frequent with you

while your walking she’ll just wrap an arm around your shoulders or grab your wrist gently like it’s nothing

when you have sleepovers she goes to sleep at 9pm and throws pillows at you if you stay up later than her

helps you with classes your struggling with, for a price.

by that i mean she just asks you to buy her some food and that’s it

kind of a bad friend but she has good intentions

tells you EVERYTHING

there isn’t anything she knows that you don’t know

BONUS:

Ocean: Y/N and I have the chemistry where we finish eachothers-

Y/N: sentences

Ocean: don’t interrupt me.

Noel Gruber

oh my GOD

you definitely got suspended with him for breaking into that bible thing

you said the erection thing

also you guys definitely still laugh about it

brainstorming insults with eachother

most of which are used on ocean

forces you to listen to french music

threatens you with his hairbrush over the littlest things

it’s actually quite scary

you get to hear all about monique gibeau all THE TIME

he’s a surprisingly good storyteller and he likes when you’re on the edge of your seat listening to him talk about experiences he’s been through

working at taco bell with him

it’s scary

BONUS:

Y/N: i turned out perfectly fine!

Noel: Y/N, this morning you thought a ghost made your toast

Y/N: I DIDNT PUT THE BREAD IN, YOU DIDNT PUT THE BREAD IN.

Mischa Bachinski

your conversations with him are one of you just rambling on and on about things and the other one listening

when he’s rambling it’s about talia

not even you know if she’s real or not

you decide not to ask

oh yeah also he’s offered you alcohol atleast 2048 times, usually once a week

your also rlly good friends with noel

it’s a trio thing

but your still mischas bsf

once he grows rlly comfortable with you it’s scary guard dog privileges

like will fr bark at anyone giving you a hard time

ALSO HES HELLA FUNNY

and says the most random shit with no context at all

it rubs off on you

a horrible influence

BONUS:

mischa: *breaks window and climbs through it*

mischa: *helps Y/N through window*

mischa: Y/N, breaking and entering is bad.

Y/N: okay

Ricky Potts

listening to him talk about zolar

well his talking is either him passing you notes with hella information on it or him using asl

i feel like in his mind you would have a zolarian based off of you but like not one of the sexy catwomen, just a zolarian who was an important role in his story

also rlly funny

cracks the most random jokes at the most random times

doesn’t sleep until 4am

seems innocent but isn’t

you have to deal with all of the above

imagine learning asl to talk to him instead of using paper and a pen <33

big cat person and his cats are so used to you that sometimes they just show up on your doorstep

sends you analog horror and laughs when your afraid the next time you see him

BONUS:

Ricky: so whats for dinner?

Y/N, staring at the food they just burnt: regret.

Jane Doe/Penny Lamb

randomly info dumps to you

oh also i think she’d like brushing your hair

a big dog person and you have to settle arguments between her and ricky over if cats or dogs are better

sends you dogs at 4am

oh also i think she’d be rlly good at painting nails for some reason and at random times she’d just take your hand and start painting your nails

speaks her mind BUUUUT that’s not always a bad thing

^^ randomly compliments you for example

BONUS:

Y/N: im a reverse necromancer

Jane/Penny: isnt that just killing people? Y/N: ah, technality

Constance Blackwood

rlly honest with you

it’s very helpful

also she checks up on you

such a good friend

i love her

teaches you how to play recorder

and kazoo

you create musical chaos with her

everyone finds it annoying except ricky cause personal head canon that he likes weird music

BONUS:

Constance: i know your deflecting by making jokes about how hot you are

Y/N: it’s not a joke

Y/N: *sniffles*

Y/N, voice cracking: i’m a legit snack.

[encantosimpshey]

❥ 𝒂𝒏 𝒊𝒏𝒗𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

✦  ✦  ✦ =  time skip

"TALIA, HEY." ELIANA stopped her sweeping to watch the girl crumple another piece of paper she was drawing on. "Are you okay?"

Her sister frowned, crossing her arms. "I'm bored and I don't know what to do." She looked down and pouted.

Eliana looked at her little sister in pity. Her friends were all out on summer trips while she had to stay at home with nothing to do.

She quickly swept the remaining dirt and once that was done, she put away the broom and went into her room. After a while, she emerged with a small bag. Her magic kit.

Smiling, she knelt in front of her sister. "Do you want me to show you some magic?"

Natalia sat straighter at the word. She loved it when her sister did magic tricks. They were awesome! And she knew so much tricks!

"Okay, now. Hand me one square of tissue." Eliana instructed.

Her little sister quickly rushed to the bathroom and brought back the whole roll of tissue.

Eliana chuckled, "Only one square, Talia."

Once she got the tissue, she ripped a piece from it in front of her sister's watchful gaze and started rolling it into a ball.

"Okay. Give me your hand." Natalia eagerly thrust both hands out.

Eliana then placed the rolled ball in her hand, "Squeeze it tight alright?" She almost laughed as she saw her sister clenching her fist so tightly her knuckles started to turn white.

"Okay. I'll count to three and then you can release the tissue ball. One. Two. Three!" Her sister immediately opened her palm and snatched the ball.

When she unfurled it, it was whole. No rips.

Eliana laughed as she watched the small girl's mouth drop.

✦  ✦  ✦

The two girls greeted their dad warmly when he returned that night. After a quick hug, Eliana took his briefcase, coat and shoes while little Talia had her turn hugging the life out of him.

After their pa settled down, Eliana called for dinner. The smell of garlic shrimp and spices led them to the dining room, where a small fiesta was laid out. The Patatas bravas, Gambas al ajillo, the Fabada from yesterday afternoon, and Leche frita Eliana prepared with the help of her assistant chef, Natalia, were mouth-watering.

They wasted no time in saying grace and immediately dug in. For a few minutes, the only sounds were them savoring their dinner and a few questions about each other's day.

When Lorenzo was almost finished, he cleared his throat, getting the attention of his two daughters. "Eliana, please get my briefcase."

Despite being surprised by the request, she obeyed and gave him the bag. He rummaged through its contents for a while before he finally found what he was looking for.

Lorenzo fiddled with his hands for a bit before he looked at his eldest daughter in the eye. "My dear, you are of age to go out and enjoy your life... yet you stay here.." He raised a hand as he saw her open her mouth to protest, "I'm grateful for taking care of your sister, for cooking, cleaning and even helping provide for this family with your job as a café waitress... but I want to see you happy too, hija. I want to see you living your life to the fullest."

"I am happy..." Eliana bit her lip.

He looked at her with patience, "when did you last hang out with your amigas?" He watched her tense up but not say anything. He slid a letter to her.

"I received that letter today. It was from the mother of your pen pal." She stiffened even more at the news, unsure what to feel.

"She invited you to their home. You will be staying there for three months."

Eliana immediately bolted up, not caring that she bumped her hip on the table. "B-but papá! What about you? Our home? Natalia? Who will take care of her? Who will take care of you? Why didn't you ask for my opinion before-"

"Eliana. Sit down." She flinched at father's warning tone and sat back down, mumbling a "sorry."

She watched as her dad sighed. "Natalia will go with you because I can't take care of her as well as you do while I have work the whole day.. And don't worry about me, mi querida niña. I'm old and capable of taking care of myself. As for the house... I can also clean it during the weekends."

Eliana rose her brow at her dad, who raised his hands in defeat. "Okay.. maybe I won't have time to clean the house on the weekends. I'll just hire a maid."

The other clenched her fists, "Why didn't you ask for my opinion in this? I am also a grown-up yet you still decide whatever I do. What I want to do is to stay here. To take care of you, Natalia and the house."

Lorenzo reached out to put a hand over hers. "Yes you are an adult already. But I am still your father. If you won't willingly go, I am commanding you to. You have been working so hard... I want you to have a break. You are still young. Be merry and find friends, hija."

Eliana shifted in her seat, uneasy with the thought of leaving her home and her papá just to find some buddies she will eventually forget after a year. She looked at her sister who slowed her eating so she could listen to the rest of the conversation.

Sighing, she retrieved her hand from her dad's touch and slowly nodded. "Alright.. I'll go."

translations :

• hija ~ daughter • amigas ~ friends • mi querida niña ~ my dear child

Spanish dishes used :

• Patatas bravas ~ spicy potatoes • Gambas al ajillo ~ shrimp coated with olive oil, garlic, hints of paprika and a touch of sweetness from sherry • Fabada ~ bean stew • Leche frita ~ a sweet, crispy custard with a hint of citrus and cinnamon sugar

click here to read chapter 4 ! click here to go back to table of contents !

[hisunshiine]

Escape ✈︎ Chapter 4

✈︎ chapter 4: you have been cordially invited... |✈︎ Escape Series—18+, Mature     

   ✈︎ genre: fluff, future smut

   ✈︎ word count: 2,736 words 

   ✈︎ pairing: jungkook x [redacted] (at the very end)

   ✈︎ warnings: alcohol consumption

   ✈︎ summary: A look into what it's like arriving to Bangtania...

| series masterlist | previous | next | hisunshiine | mrsparkjimin18 |

Everyday, since the very beginning when it was announced, you have sat at your computer or been on your phone in order to participate in the giveaway for a chance to go to Bangtania Island. Every week, one lucky person has a chance to win an exclusive invitation from the girls who organized it, all expenses paid for them to relocate out there.  

Friday couldn’t have come soon enough; your job was draining. A typical 9-5, doing office work was monotonous and you slogged through the week waiting for your weekends to come. Despite the wish to find something else, nobody was hiring in your city. Not for anything you wanted to do, anyways. Deep in your gut you felt the need for something more, instead of the repetitious clacking of your fingers against the keyboard, answering the phones, and feeling like a machine.

Fortunately, it’s the weekend, so you decide to stop and grab a bottle of wine and make your way home. You’re ready to unwind with some youtube videos and spend time browsing your social media for anything interesting. You pour a glass of wine and relax on the sofa, open your laptop and log in to twitter. You have a few notifications, including an update from the giveaway page, they had posted there was another winner chosen and that the winner would receive an email shortly.

“That was 30 minutes ago!?” You squeal to yourself, an unexplainable feeling creeping over you.

Just then your phone chimes, and you unlock the screen to check your notifications. You have multiple email notifications, so you check your email app as you sip your wine. Scrolling through them, it’s mainly junk mail, you see one that catches your eye.

Sender Name: Bangtania Island Mayor

Subject: You have been cordially invited…

Y/N,

Congratulations! You have been selected as the next lucky winner to be invited to Bangtania Island. In order to accept this invitation, please click on the link and fill out the application. Documents you may need to gather prior to completing the forms in the link are:

Driver’s License

Social Security Card

Passport

Please make sure to include the earliest date for you to travel, and please have your physical completed prior to boarding the plane. All documents needed are attached to the email. Please make sure to electronically sign them and reply to this email with the completed documents. If you have any questions in regards to the forms, please do not hesitate to reach out. Upon completion of all required documents per your reply email, you will receive your e-ticket for travel.

The following are the guidelines and stipulations for traveling to Bangtania Island:

You will receive a one-way ticket, free of cost. You will be picked up from the airport and transported to the boat, which will bring you to the island. You will be given a limited amount of time to decide if you would like to stay as a permanent resident of Bangtania, approximately 2 weeks. Prior to you being granted full access to the island, you will meet with the Deputy Mayor who will greet you at the dock, completing a brief in-person interview. If you decide to leave or prove unfit for the island at that time, a complimentary ticket home will be provided to you up until the 2-week window.

Thank you,

Vanessa

Deputy Mayor of the Mayor’s Office, Bangtania Island

You couldn’t stop yourself from spilling some wine as you low-key panicked. You knew there was a very good possibility of being chosen; some of your mutuals on twitter had already left to go there, and while you had seen them briefly on the TL, it was never for long and they didn’t say anything other than that they were enjoying themselves immensely and to share the sweepstakes link.

You set down what was left of your wine that hadn’t spilt into your lap, and ran around your room, pulling clothes off of their hangers and out of your dresser drawers before you remembered you hadn’t even clicked the link to complete the forms. 

Pausing in the middle of your bedroom, arms filled with random clothes, you took 7 deep breaths to try and calm down before dropping your handful of clothes into your pen and waiting suitcase. Sitting back down, you calmly clicked the link and once transported to the secure website, you filled in the information needed so that your flight could be purchased for you as well as any other accommodations you may need could be handled by the ones in charge. 

You printed out the forms needed for the physical, jotted down some notes to go to the doctor on Monday to complete the form, and decided that the earliest you would be able to fly out was Wednesday. That gives you enough time to go to your job, request use of your vacation hours for the next 2 weeks, and turn in your two week notice. You didn’t ever want to come back to that shit hole.

You celebrated the news by turning up your bluetooth speaker and blasting your favorite upbeat BTS songs while you packed up everything you would need. Hasta La Vista!

Catching your flight was easier than you thought it would be, as you had an upgraded flight in first class. You were given star treatment, access to a separate waiting area with complimentary food and drinks, less people to deal with, comfortable seats, the works. You couldn’t believe that ARMY was able to provide all of this for you, but who were you to complain? 

The boat ride was also nice, more like taking a large yacht across the water to the island, you stood at the bough of the boat for most of the trip, enjoying the view as you became farther and farther away from everything that was shitty about your life and closer to everything you wanted. An escape into a world that was full of other people who were like you, liked the same music, had the same mindset, and you got to do it all on a paradise island? Hell fucking yeah.

After docking, you rolled your luggage behind you as you disembarked from the ramp, and saw a girl waiting for you. She was short but cute, a friendly smile and aura of being in charge. Her cheeks were slightly sunburnt, but you were envious of the way she looked refreshed, skin glowing. You couldn’t wait for that to be you; sunkissed and relaxed from the ocean breeze and too many margaritas.

“Y/n?” She asked, and you nodded.

“Welcome! I’m Vanessa, I hope that your trip went well?”

“Oh yea, it was awesome, thank you!”

“No problem, congratulations on winning! So before we go off to the fun stuff, we have a brief interview and a few more things to go over, and then I’ll give you a tour of the island and show you to your place. If you’ll follow me?”

Vanessa led the way to a golf cart and you climbed on, your luggage secured in the back seat of the cart. She turned the key, and you were speeding off towards a large house. It was painted white with accents of brick, and green ivy climbing lattices. The windows were large and beautiful, and you felt like you had seen them somewhere before. Like they were in a magazine or some type of professional photos or something. You shrugged off the feeling of deja vu, and followed Vanessa into the house.

The windows were open and provided a good amount of sunlight into the entryway, and you tried to take in as much as you could see as Vanessa walked past a staircase and led you towards the back of the house and into a side room. It was an office, with bright white walls and a large sturdy desk. A bookshelf was the entire wall behind the desk, where she now sat at. 

She gestured to the plush chair in front of her desk and you sat down, suddenly nervous. For such a large house, it was pretty quiet, and you wondered where all the other people were. Was this actually all an elaborate trick to sell you into sex trafficking and you were brought here to die?!

You calmed your thoughts once you heard laughter from somewhere above you, and music playing lightly from another area of the house.

“So, once again, welcome! I am the deputy mayor here, and basically in charge of getting you all settled. We are a formal nation, Bangtania, with a president, a whole government system, and we’re working on expanding the businesses here. Before I can reveal anything more to you, I do need to have you sign the Non-Disclosure Agreement here in person. I know that I sent it to you via email for you to read and electronically sign, but I like to cover all of my bases.”

Like clockwork, another woman walked into the open office door, carrying a glass of wine and some papers. She took a sip and handed the papers to Vanessa, who thanked her as she headed back out of the room. The woman blew a kiss and disappeared around the corner.

“That’s my best friend, Talia, and definitely the reason that all of this was even put into motion,” Vanessa said as she shuffled the papers before straightening them gently by tapping the edges on the desk. She stapled the corner, binding the papers together, and passed it over to you.

“I know you read over most of this, but I want to reiterate a few points anyways. From the moment you leave this office, you are not to share with anyone about the other people on this island. When you first applied to the giveaway sweepstakes, you gave us your social media handles. While we won’t take away social media from you, your posts will be monitored for identifying certain people who wish to remain anonymous while here. Please always ask anyone before posting and triple check photos as well.”

She points to a section and you initial, stating you understand.

“You have a two week period here to see how you like it. You don’t have to stay if you do not want to. After that time, you will be issued a passport for Bangtania, a resident ID, and be included in our census. You will have dual citizenship for here and for your home country as well.”

“If you choose to leave within the 2 week window, it’s no charge. If you choose to leave after, you will have to fund your flight home yourself. We will pay for your boat ride back to the mainland, and from there you can negotiate work or if you have money saved just in case, you can fly out. Also, if you choose to stay, you can always fly out to visit friends and family, just remember the NDA is always in affect.”

You initialed again.

Vanessa led you through a few more sections of the contract, and you learned that a few of the girls on the island were nurses and so if you were sick or needed minor medical attention, they would help you. Everything else was pretty much provided to you, and all they asked was that they could use your skills in return. 

You weren’t surprised they knew you had skills with computers and answering phones, which made you a perfect candidate to work in the main house under Vanessa doing secretarial work for her best friend, Talia. It wouldn’t be a lot of work, you would have plenty of time to enjoy the beach and rest, and the work would be related to the giveaway, running the island, and other fun BTS related things, so you were excited.

Signing your last signature on the bottom of the last page, Vanessa took the document, notarized it, and put it away in a locked filing cabinet next to her desk.

“Now, if you’re ready, I’d love to give you a tour of the island and show you where you’ll be staying.”

After seeing the main areas that people hung out at, you went towards what looked like a restaurant, which was good because you were hungry. Vanessa parked the golf cart next to a few others, and she held the door open for you.

You almost fainted. Seated at the table right when you walked in was none other than the 7 boys that were the reason you lived. BTS. Namjoon, Jimin, Yoongi, Taehyung, and Jungkook were sat at the table, and as you looked around, you saw that in between them sat other girls, including mutuals you knew were living here. Hobi appeared from swinging doors that led to what you assumed was the kitchen, delivering plates of food from a platter as a few girls followed him as well with drinks.

“C’mon Y/N, don’t be shy. Isn’t this what you wanted?” Vanessa laughed, taking in your shocked expression.

After eating, and sharing some conversation with Jin and Yoongi, you were ready for a nap. Jin was an exceptional cook, and you were full to the brim. Vanessa waved bye to everyone, a lingering hand on a certain male’s shoulder as she walked away, leading you back outside. As you sat back on the leather seat of the cart, she checked in with you.

“I’m definitely still in shock, but now I understand the NDA a lot more.” You chuckled as she drove you towards another house. It was just as big as the main house, as you heard several people call it, but the style was more relaxed and upon entering it, you realized it was because it was lived in. It was two stories, with a large open concept downstairs with a living room and kitchen, and rooms upstairs. You dragged your suitcase up the flight and Vanessa unlocked a room for you with a key before handing it to you.

“This is our newcomer guest room. We will have a room ready for you after your 2 weeks are up, if you decide to stay. For now, most people have said staying with me and Talia has been helpful if they had questions or needed anything, but any of the girls will help you, everyone is super nice.”

You looked around the room; it was spacious with a nice big bay window that allowed a decent amount of sunlight in.

“I’ll leave you to get settled in. Feel free to explore some more, and tomorrow we will have our weekly game night so you can meet everyone in a more relaxed setting and have fun. It’s our way of welcoming you to Bangtania.”

Vanessa let herself out of the room, closing the door softly. You wanted to explore, but at the moment the bed was calling to you. You lay down in the spot where the sun was pooling, curling yourself into the warmth and passed out. Jet Lag was a bitch.

When you finally rejoined the waking world, it was definitely not waking hours. The sun had set, and you shiver, the ocean breeze now too cool in your bedroom. You get up, throwing a MOTS tour hoodie on, and climb back in the bed, attempting to go back to sleep. Tossing and turning for about 15 minutes, sleep evades you. You must have caught up on all of your missing sleep with that ‘nap’ you took. Like you said, Jet lag is a bitch. Not wanting to continue to lay there restless, you slip out of the room and down the stairs.

You walk along the road, past other houses, finding yourself walking into sand. Sitting on the beach, enjoying the sound of the waves, you finally begin to feel tired. Rather than fall asleep on the beach, you make your way back to the house.

You head up the stairs and start down the hall, being as quiet as possible since it’s late and everyone is asleep. At least you assume they are all asleep, until you hear a very familiar voice coming from Vanessa’s room.

“Come here Princess, why are you acting this way?” You step closer to the door that is slightly ajar. You can’t believe what you are seeing, but you can’t stop watching either.

↣ all rights reserved © hisunshiine & mrsparkjimin18 2020-2021. please do not repost. translations & modifications are not allowed.

[alindakb]

Can I Please Wake Up Now? - Lydia - by Alinda

Her pen keeps scratching nonsense in her notebook, while Lydia reads the same line for the hundred time. She shifts around in her chair, trying to concentrate. She’s been on edge ever since Jordan left the house. She leans away from her reading and checks her cell phone. A small sound comes from the baby monitor. She listens closely, only to hear that Aiden is just playing around in his crib. Lydia clears her throat and starts reading again, her pen still drawing things in her notebook.

Was it this hard to get back to work the last time? Lydia can’t remember. It was a hectic time, with the witches and their dragon causing havoc. So, it should be easier this time around, no monsters, no people dying, just peace and love all around. Still, Lydia is tense; she consciously has to force herself to relax.

Aiden makes another noise upstairs. Lydia needs to leave this room, stop worrying about the case in front of her. She gets up and walks upstairs. She checks in on Ariel. The little girl is sleeping in her pink bed, her stuffed pony in her hand. Lydia carefully kisses her temple and walks out of the room.

A dim light is shining in the nursery so Lydia can see Aiden lying in his crib. His hands try to catch the cars that hang on his mobile above his crib. It was a gift from Ethan. He was so proud that this little one would carry his brother's name. He almost broke Lydia’s ribs when he hugged her when they told him.

Aiden coos when he spots Lydia. She smiles at her little boy, only weeks old and already the man she loves more than any other. She was planning to just say hello and smile at her baby boy, but now that she’s here, she just needs to hold him. She picks up Aiden from his crib and holds him close.

“I love you, little one.” She strokes his soft hair and walks towards the stairs, picking up one of his toys before she leaves the room. Her phone is ringing down in the study.

“I think we need to answer that. It’s probably daddy calling to tell that he’s going to be out all night,” she tells Aiden. Jordan was called in because of a car accident. Lydia walks back into the study and reaches for her phone. Her hand stops midair when her eyes slide over her notebook. Her chest aches. The page is filled with one name. In capital letters, in small letters, spelled backwards, in bold letters. She’s been writing down his name since moments before Jordan had gotten his call.

Her phone has stopped ringing and the silence is deafening. Even Aiden is quite like he can sense something is wrong. A single tear escapes Lydia’s eye, rolling over her cheek. She doesn’t feel like screaming, but she can feel it in her bones. She pulls Aiden closer to her and tries to look away from the piece of paper filled with Stiles his name.

Her phone starts ringing again. She forces herself to look at the damn thing to see who’s calling her. It’s Jordan. Her hands shake when she reaches for the phone. She had started scrolling down Stiles name moments before he was called out to the car accident. He had said that there was a possibility of fatalities before he left. She answers the call.

“Stiles is dead,” she says without wavering. She’s sure of it. Silence greets her, her husband lost for words. “He is, isn’t he?” she asks. Maybe she’s wrong, for once let her be wrong. Jordan clears his throat. He sounds broken when he answers her question.

“I’m sorry sweetheart.”

They both cry, not knowing what to say next. She wishes Jordan was home right now, so they could hold each other, cry together, and not over a phone. Lydia walks towards the living room and sits down on the sofa; her legs feel heavy and she’s afraid she will fall over if she doesn’t sit down.

“I can’t leave,” Jordan says after a while. “It’s going to be a long night. The sheriff… He’s here and…”

Jordan sniffs, not able to finish his sentence. Lydia can’t imagine how hard this must be for him, knowing he needs to step up now, that he can’t break down. He’s the second in command at the country. He’s responsible for the aftermath, needs to make sure the other deputies do their work. Even though the victim is their friend, his partner, his boss’ son. A friend of most people picking up the pieces right now.

“Jordan, I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

“I’ll be fine. And waiting for you at home as soon as your job is done.” And she isn’t lying, she will be fine. The feeling of losing a loved one isn’t new to her. She has survived Jackson’s death, Aiden’s, Malia’s. As long as she has Jordan and her kids, and the pack, she will be fine. The pack will heal like it had before. The pack will, but Derek…

“Does Derek know?”

The man has already lost so much in his life. His parents, his first pack, his sister, his beta’s, his niece. Will he be able to survive this? Now that his rock is gone. The only person that had been able to heal his wounds?

“I called Isaac, he’s on his way to him as we speak. I couldn’t tell him this over the phone. He needs to hear this from someone that can control him if he loses it. I was afraid if I would send one of the deputies he would hurt them.”

Lydia makes an agreeing noise.

“I still need to tell Scott… and Cora.”

“I’ll call them.” Lydia offers without hesitation. Jordan should focus on the aftermath at the crash site, not about telling their friends and family.

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

Silence follows.

“Maybe you should also call Danny and Ethan. I know they are on holiday…”

“I will, don’t worry about it”

“I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

“I know, I’ll be here when you do.”

Jordan tells her one more time he loves her before he hangs up. Aiden stirs in Lydia’s arms. She puts him down in his playpen and looks at him with tears in her eyes. Little Talia is only two weeks older than Aiden. She’s not even four months old and already she has lost one of her fathers.

Lydia sits back down and hides her face in her hands. She cries.

After a while, she takes some deep breaths and tries to calm herself down. When she feels she can talk again she picks up her mobile and speed dials Scott. The phone rings, but nobody answers. After a while, the call goes to voicemail. Lydia hangs up and dials again. She wishes that she didn’t have to be the one to tell Scott that his best friend died tonight. And how is she going to tell Cora that the father of her daughters is dead? Scott still doesn’t answer his phone, so Lydia phones again, wishing she would wake up from this nightmare.

[endmyfandomstucksuffering]

i spent more time than needed for this version of a pokemon au. it gets the idea going. i prefer more of these aus these are cool

read below for all the headcannons.

Hetalia (probably called Talia or Talian) would have some dog pokemon (Lycanroc, Bolthund (is that the name?) or Arcanine), Eevee/eeveelution (Guessing Leafeon, Jolteon, or Umbreon), and something that could fit in a the fandom. For example: A blue flower Florges. That will mess up some people. Also: probably some knight/blade/fighting mon like Gallade or Aegislash.) Starter would probably be Oshawott considering how cute it is and the cool samurai Samurott.

Hetalia prob carries half of Homestuck’s weight in his backpack with all the maps, cooking materials, books, art supplies, escape ropes. all of it. probably six sleeping bags, one extra for good measure. I mean, he is Hetalia. He can probably carry the entire squad without effort, because its him.

Since Hetalia probably loves these dogs to death, he would have really high friendship and reliability. High special attacker probably, and would use his secret weapon last. whatever his last weapon is. might kill all humanity.

I will probably post a gym leader/elite four version of hetastuck as trainers. I imagine Hetalia as a normal/fairy type user. Fairies make sense for somebody like him who would put glitter in his hair. Plus, he would be the first male fairy trainer other than Bede. Stuck as maybe a poison type or dark type. Was gonna use Psychic, but i think somebody else fits that better. Poison fits his personality, and since the *~dark~* type is considered the evil type in Japan, I’ll probably pick a poison team. It’s as if the two counter each other.

Homestuck, possibly Andy (or if you wanna be original, Andi. You know. The damned Hussie we all seem to know and love oh so much.) would probably have a Grimmsnarl and some other poison type, It could have a dragon like Hydreigon (if we ignore Ghetsis’ existence right now...) or Dragapult. Probably has maybe another dark type or flying type, like Skarmory or Corviknight. Maybe he has all level 1 Ratattas. I don’t care, Suck his green dick. He seems like the guy to get punched for a meme. Make him have Weavile and Grimmsnarl for horrid type coverage. Make him have a Toxtricity and a Luxray. i... didnt think about homestuck alot as i did heta tbh

he probably only carries ultra balls, super repels, the best potions. he carries only the essentials for pokemon battling, plus some paper and pens.

Would probably be a show off in battle, using cool moves and sweeping your team the first chance they get. Probably has really high friendship though. Probably some low defense or special defense but high speed. Use Oppa Toby Style if you want to have a theme for him.

[the-twinventors]

A knock at the door stirred Stella from her daydreaming. She immediately went for her phone, checking the camera app - no, it wasn’t Talia, thank Chaos. Instead, there was an unfamiliar raccoon Mobian, wearing a suit and holding a clipboard. She frowned - who the hell was that? He didn’t look like someone from the university…

Best proceed with caution. Grabbing her keys, Stella unlocked the door, but only opened it a crack, bracing her toe against it to keep him from barging in. “… can I help you?”

“Ah, you must be Miss Stella Hope.” The raccoon seemed friendly enough, but appearances were deceiving. “It’s come to our attention that you had a baby recently, yes?”

Stella was immediately on guard. “… yeah… what about her?”

“Well, I’m here to offer a hand in removing it from your life.” He took the alarmed look on her face as a cue to continue. “A woman as young as you shouldn’t have to deal with the burden of a child, especially a half-breed. You have your whole future ahead of you - success, fortune, all of it. There’s absolutely no reason you should have to give all of it up for the sake of a half-breed.” He pulled a sheet of paper from the top of his clipboard, handing it to her. “All you have to do is sign this, and we can take it away to properly dispose of it for you. It’s of no cost to you.”

Stella was actually reeling from what she was hearing. She had no idea how the Bastion Alliance had gotten wind of Galaxy being a hybrid - maybe they found out from a hidden rep in the hospital. Her eyes scanned over the paper, reading over it. A lot of it was B.A mumbo jumbo with some legal jargon thrown in, but from what she gathered, by signing this form, she was signing away her parental rights to them. Basically, she would be handing Galaxy over to be executed.

So, some of the rumours were true…

She looked up at the raccoon slowly, a look on her face that screamed disbelief. He misunderstood, and immediately whipped a pen from his jacket pocket, holding it out to her. “Oh, pardon me, can hardly sign without a pen. Here you go.”

For a moment, she just stared at the pen. Then at the form. Then at him. Then back at the form. And then back at him. He lightly shook the pen in his hand, prompting her to take it. She looked at the pen. At him. At the form. At him.

And then, without breaking eye contact, she brought her hands up to the top of the form and tore it straight down the middle, crumpled up the pieces, and tossed them down the hall.

The raccoon’s stance wavered, and the hand holding the pen lowered, his professional smile fading. Without a word, Stella stepped out of the apartment, snapped the door shut behind her, and began advancing on him, a sudden cold hatred in her eyes.

“Alright, listen up, fuckhead. Because I’m only gonna say this once.” Her voice was low and dark, a vicious warning hidden in her tone. “My daughter is my future. I don’t care that she’s a hybrid - I love her with all of my being, and I’m not gonna hand her over to you just so you can kill her. She’s a Mobian just like the rest of us, regardless of her genetics, not a savage mutant that needs put down. So here’s how it’s going to go…” She had him backed up right against the wall, lip curled back into an aggressive snarl. “I’m going to raise my daughter in peace, and she’s going to grow up into a happy, healthy young woman. And if you Bastion Assholes hurt even a single hair on her head…”

She pushed her face right into his, not once breaking eye contact. “… then I will personally make sure that no one ever finds your bodies. Am. I. Clear?”

Unnerved, the raccoon nodded wordlessly.

“Good.” Stella backed off, arms crossed. “Now get the fuck off campus before I call security.”

Not wanting to deal with that, he immediately took off, scooping up the crumpled ball of paper as he went. She waited until he was out of sight and earshot before heading back into the apartment, locking the door behind her. With a sigh, she tossed her keys back onto the coffee table and headed into her room, stopping to peer into the bassinet. Galaxy was still sound asleep, completely oblivious to the drama that had just unfolded. Stella let her hand dip into the bassinet, the tip of her index finger lightly brushing against the side of her daughter’s head.

“No one’s ever gonna hurt you, little bean… I promise.”

[liquor-and-intellect]

PREHISTORIC PART TWO

Summary: Talia is a singer inspired by the man who broke her heart. The man who left her to pursue his career in the music industry without a second thought. The man who happens to be Harry Styles and is paying her show a visit.

Part One 

Roman found me in the alleyway, still staring at the space Harry had previously taken up. A fragrance of clean linen and a hint of spice still hung in the air. The nostalgia of his familiar unchanged scent— even after all these years— threatened to wrap itself around my throat and squeeze until I couldn’t take it anymore. 

“I’m not saying I just saw Harry Styles cry,” Roman began. “But I’m pretty sure he was close to tears.”

 Roman’s voice was like a punch to my gut. This little bubble of conflicting feelings I had resided in for the past few minutes was immediately popped at the presence of his voice.

“What’s going on, Tal?” Roman noticed my defeated posture. “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

“I feel like I did.” And it was true. This image I’ve had in my head ever since I put the lyrics of Prehistoric on paper, just happened to come true tonight. I always wished he could hear the words I was thinking, feel the emotions I let cause me dread. I wished I could sing this song to him and he would fall to his knees and beg for me back. Apologize for everything he put us through. 

Then here he was. Whole. New. A priceless sparkle in his eyes that hadn’t previously been there-- but yet he was the same.

And it caused me so much anger that I had even surprised myself. 

“You two had a thing, didn’t you?" Roman asked. If I hadn’t been so emotionally drained, I could have picked up on the hint of sadness his words held.

I nodded.

Roman pressed, "Does he want you back?"

I shrugged. "I don't know what he wants."

"Do you want him back?" 

I don't know what I want. "No," I lied.

 Roman was silent for a beat before, "Did he invite you back to his place?"

 If this was anyone else, I wouldn't have allowed the excessive amount of questions. Besides my music, I was a fairly private person and my band knew that. The boys all knew that the only piece of me they would get would be the part I let them see when I jotted down lyrics on napkins in bars or came to rehearsal with papers stacked on crumbled papers that I wrote in the manic hours of the night.

At this point in my life, Roman was one of the only people I let close to me. So, I let his numerous amount of questions roll off my back because I knew they were only asked out of genuine concern.

I let out a long breath. "Yeah." Straightening my back, I attempted to look more like myself. "He said if I wanted to talk about things, he'd be at his hotel until tomorrow."

There was something indecipherable on Roman's face as he asked, "Are you going to go?"

Honestly, I didn't know. A part of me knew I wouldn't be able to sleep knowing he was so close and willing to talk. Another part of me wanted to bury that part of my life once and for all. I settled for an easy answer that would give Roman a peace of mind. "No. Of course not." But even I didn't believe it.

At my answer, Roman stepped closer to me. So close that I could feel his breath on my forehead and see the pulsing veins in his arms that he usually got after a good show.

"Good," he whispered, before closing the gap between us and placing his lips on my own. 

It wasn't that I hadn't kissed anyone since Harry and I broke things off. I had experienced my share of one night stands and attempts at dating— usually after I saw on Twitter that Harry was caught with someone new, but that's besides the point.

The point is, I'm not sure why my entire body rejected Roman's lips on my own. It should have been effortless. It would have been so easy for us to fall into this relationship after all we shared in common. We had been close friends after all—and in another life, I truly believe that he would have made me happy.

Unfortunately for my happiness, it wasn't this easy and all I could think about is the smell of clean linen and spice that still hung in the air from a man that still had every possible grip on my heart. It wasn't fair, I thought, that after two years, he waltzes back in and changes everything once again.

Maybe he didn't change anything at all. Maybe it had always been there.

I pushed Roman off. "I- uh... I'm sorry," I muttered, thinking of green eyes. "I just can't do this right now."

Roman let out a breath, composing himself. "I understand," he reaffirmed, always kind, always patient. "when you're ready, you know where to find me."

I nodded, thankful— but also a bit uneasy. I don't think I could ever give him what he deserved in a world where Harry Styles existed.

In the end, I walked away. Packing up my things and hailing a taxi back to my apartment.

HARRY’S POV

 I don't know what I expected.

 For her to run back into my arms? Cry and kiss me? No, none of that...

 Doesn't mean that I hadn't hoped for it though.

It had been a couple hours since I left the bar where Talia was playing. She'd been... absolutely electrifying on that stage. She sang and moved with such a magnetism and passion that I haven't seen in the music industry in a very long time. When she placed the microphone up to her mouth, you couldn't look away— and if you were able to, it was physically painful. As if ripping your eyes off this bundle of light was the most unnatural action known to man.

I had heard the songs before. When her band released their EP on Spotify, I couldn't bring myself to listen to her voice on my two thousand dollar lavish speakers. It felt wrong. Instead, I pressed play in my car and drove endlessly through the night, as if my aimless driving would land me back on her front doorstep—wherever that might have been. I knew undoubtedly what songs were about me, I could hear the hurt that I had caused when I initially left for L.A or when I had eventually stopped answering her calls. The pained lyrics were so overwhelming that I drank for three days straight. Then, when a friend of mine pulled me out of my stupor, I wrote about it.

God, I filled up notebooks with lines about her. How I was guilty, how I was mad that she didn't try harder when we were together, how I was frustrated that none of our friends would talk to me anymore, but ultimately how much I still loved her after a year and how terrified I was that I would live the rest of my life with this weight on my chest.

I checked my email, trying to pass the time. I knew deep down that Talia wasn't going to come to the hotel. She had every right not to. Not after all the shit I’ve done.

A subject line of an email caught my eye, it was labeled: Talia.mp3.

My heart dropped to my stomach; I had almost forgotten that I had sold this song to Mikaela Straus months back. Hesitantly, I opened the email as if the song would play before I clicked on it—before I was ready to hear it.

The email read:

 Harry,

This track is absolutely killer. Thank you for sharing it with me and letting me tell this story for you. I'm sorry for whatever caused you to write it, because that pain feels so real. I hope I did Talia justice.

 xx Mikaela

After my three-day drunken depression, I experienced—what my friends called—a resurrection. I put myself in the studio and wrote until my fingers bled. We banged on instruments, used up ink pens, and tore papers from writing too quickly. In the midst, a song named Talia was born.

It was too raw, too personal for me, that I couldn’t release it. I could barely even sing it without being hit with a wave of emotion. If I released it, I knew my fans would connect the dots and as much as I wanted her music to blow up, I knew she would never forgive me for her career always being tied to this desperate song about her. But the words deserved a chance to take their own form, so I sold it to Mikaela—or King Princess, as she goes by—to let the lyrics breathe on their own. Even if I had released it as my original, I would never be able to perform it live and the speculation and questioning would eventually drive me mad. 

My finger did this strange dance where it hovered above the hyperlink to the song. I felt like I couldn’t bring myself to play it. It was like opening a piece of my diary and letting someone else read it out loud for the world to hear.

But the emotions were real. I had experienced them. Even if I had caused them, I deserved to feel them and acknowledge the pain that resided in my chest.

After a small deliberation, I hit play.

There was a slight crescendo of a piano before Mikaela’s voice emitted from my laptop speakers.

“Hey, my love

buried you a month or two ago.

I keep thinking that you’re standing on my floor

That you’re waiting there for me…”

After the third time hitting play, I fell asleep to Mikaela’s voice cracking as she sang the name Talia.

 Talia’s POV

 It was 4 a.m.

I spent 3 hours after I got home pacing my living room. Another hour spent scrubbing my body of any trace of the night. Another hour cleaning my apartment. I was absolutely manic. I couldn’t breathe properly without the weight of anxiety on my chest. I also couldn’t sit still knowing that a five minute drive away, Harry sat in a hotel room.

So here I was. In front of room 310 at a fucking Hilton Hotel. I was staring at the door, trying to will myself to knock.

You deserve closure, I thought to myself.

My fist rapped against the thick door.

I stood there.

Thirty awkward seconds went by.

I couldn’t bring myself to knock again. Letting my eyes continue to stare at the gray of the door as if it would give me x-ray vision into a room where Harry was.

A minute went by… then two.

Defeated, I felt like sobbing. I had been driving myself mad all night for him to just not answer? No, I wasn’t going to accept this. He couldn’t just show up at my show after two years of not seeing him. After completely ripping my heart out of my chest.

I banged louder on my door. If he chose to ignore this knock, I knew other residents in this hallway wouldn’t.

There was a slight scuff on the other end, a jingle of a lock being removed, then the tentative movement of a door opening.

Harry stood in front of me. His hair was in disarray, curls standing up in all directions, along with a red mark across his face—where I guessed his arm had been tucked under his cheek as he slept.

He was also shirtless, but I tried my best not to ogle at the number of new tattoos that covered his chest.

“Talia.” The grogginess from sleep laid a warm blanket across his British accent, wrapping his words in a soft rasp. If I could ever manage to recreate that tone in my music, I swear I would make millions.

“Hi,” I whispered.

There was a moment of peace as I stood outside his door. A boy and a girl staring at each other outside a hotel room at 4 a.m. There was a wave off complex and overwhelming feelings that were drowning me. Above all else, there was an intense urge not to run into his arms that I was desperately fighting off like a bad cold.

I sniffled.

“Come in,” he said.

And I walked in, because how could I ever say no?

Anons are open if you need to talk about ;)

Song mentioned in this part is Talia by King Princess.

masterlist 

[chicagocityfclanspromoblog]

Ashley Malone → Olivia Dudley → Warlock

→ Basic Information

Age: 29

Gender: Female

Sexuality: Straight

Powers: Animating

Birthday: March 25th

Zodiac Sign: Aries

Religion: Buddhism

Mark: Sookram

Generation: 4th

→ Her Personality (one to two paragraphs)

→ Her Personal Facts

Occupation: Student (Masters in Psychology) and Part-Time Receptionist

Scars: None

Tattoos: None

Two Likes: Drawing and Fashion

Two Dislikes: Losing Control and Aladdin’s Genie

Two Fears: Soullessness and The Council

Two Hobbies: Craftsmanship and Practicing Magic

Three Positive Traits: Knowledgeable, Shy, Powerful

Three Negative Traits: Egotistical, Devious, Indifferent

→ Her Connections

Parent Names:

William Malone (Father/Warlock): William comes from a long line of Sookram warlocks. He worked in Beijing before transferring back to New York in an effort to source highly addictive ingredients for a new vape pen.

Leanna Malone nee Weyden (Mother/Witch): Leanna works as a Liaison/Seeker for the New York Council. She was able to see the warning signs of Ashley’s power and got protections for her put in place before anyone else put the pieces together.

Sibling Names:

David Sookram III (Brother): David took on their family name once he turned 18. He followed in their Uncle’s footsteps and fell into the gambling side of the family business. She sees him during the holidays, but he much prefers the Las Vegas strip to anything in Chicago.

Lela Sookram (Sister): Lela took on their family name once she turned 18. She, like their father, works heavily in the smoke shop/potion business. They’ve been developing a type of vape that uses potions to create a high in both supernatural and humans that’ll last for hours. Ashley is more likely to talk to Lela, but she hasn’t put much effort in since halfway through her Bachelors.

Children Names:

None

Romantic Connections:

None

Platonic Connections:

Eric Lasiter (Mentor): Ashley is Eric’s newest and youngest mentee. He fought to have her, in order to test the abilities of a creator and animator together. Ashley loves to tutor him in his studies since he has recently returned to university.

Tom Mills (Best Friend): Tom is a cute little human that Ashley shared an elective class with when her freshman year of college. They had a shared project they bonded over. Ashley convinced Tom to stay in Chicago for his Masters degree also instead of moving after they both graduated from the bachelor’s program.

Anya Grace (Best Friend): Ashley and Anya met around the same time as Tom. Their shared Advanced Chemistry together and a strong hatred of their professor. As the years passed, Ashley started to see Anya as a sister. She has met Anya’s entire family and they know Ashley as Anya’s best friend. Ashley’s parents believe she is being reckless but she does not want to eventually lose her friend to old age or end their friendship to keep her away from their world. Ashley does not feed into it being the way of immortals or something she has to get used to.  

Austin Semler (Good Friend): Austin is a nimble that shares most of her classes. She was hesitant of him at first until he became friends with Tom and Anya. That was enough for Ashley to give him a chance. Ashley is glad she has someone in their friend group that she can talk about supernatural things with and can easily cover for one another. He can be a jerk sometimes but at least he knows it.

Chai Gates (Friend): Chai mentees under Eric too. Chai has introduced Ashley to nearly everyone that she ‘needs to know’ in the supernatural community; including taking Ashley to all the supernatural hot spots.

Belle Cunningham (Friend): Belle mentees under Eric too. They are not as close as Chai but they are still close and Ashley considers her a friend.

Nathan Cleirigh (Boss): Eric got Ashley a job with the local supernatural psychiatrist. Nathan has degrees in neuroscience, psychology and pathology. He happily let Ashley intern with him, giving her his human patients and allowing her to work the front desk for extra hours and time. Ashley has learned a lot from Nathan and is pushing to start helping out with Nathan’s supernatural patients.

Talia Cleirigh (Co-Worker): Talia has a branch within Nathan’s practice. She loves how they both are putting their powers to use by helping supernaturals and humans mentally. Ashley loves to pick and prod at Talia’s mind and get her input whenever a research paper is assigned and due.

Sid Velanica (Friendly): Chai introduced Ashley to Sid. Initially, Ashley was unsure what to think about him but he knows how to make her laugh and have a good time.

Skylar Beckham (Friendly): Eric introduced Skylar to their bunch just recently. Skylar is new to the supernatural world and shares Eric’s mark. They are around the same age. Ashley likes her well enough and is willing to teach her the basics.

Hostile Connections:

Casper Colt (Dislike): Ashley knows Casper is a hunter and is from one of the most ruthless families in Chicago. She does not like him hanging around her human friends.

Pets:

None

→ History (paragraph(s) on background)

→ The Present (paragraph(s) on how the character connects to the plot)

→ Available Gif Hunts (we do not own these)

Olivia Dudley [1] [2] [3]

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @PrincessaBitchessa!

Hello hello! I got a bunch of the things you asked for and, like my previous two works, this is completely stupid fluffy goodness and I hope it'll put a smile on your face! Merry Christmas!

Read on AO3

*****

Infamnia

The money lasted longer than he thought it would, but not long enough to get out of the dog house of all the debt from medical bills and the mortgage. Stiles didn’t know what to do, how to find himself out of the zeroes and commas and the red ink on the envelopes, until he remembered the letter inside the safe his father set aside before he was killed. He pulled it out from where he’d locked t away, wanting nothing to remind him of what took the better part of two years to even partially come to terms with.

The blue-lined paper still had the frayed edges from where it was torn from a notebook, and the penmanship was as dicey as his father’s ever was.

Stiles I’m so sorry you have to read this letter. But since you are, let me say that whatever happened to me was not your fault. It wasn’t, Stiles, and if you’re blaming yourself I’m going to haunt your scrawny little ass. Don’t. There’s more that I want to say than I can ever put into paper, but this is held securely in the safe specifically because this information is extremely confidential.

If you’re ever in trouble, if you need money, protection, a job, anything, you give the following number a call, and ask for whatever Hale is in charge. You tell them you’re John and Claudia Stilinski’s son. They’ll take care of you. Whatever you find out about me, about what I did and what I accepted, know that it was to protect the town. From what it didn’t want to know about. They owe me a debt, one that I saved for you.

Love you, kid

Dad

Stiles’ bony fingers trembled slightly as he held the paper, mulling over the words as if this was the first time he’d read them. In truth, it was the first time he ever was really taking in the meaning. While he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know what exactly whatever you find out about me, about what I did meant, he would maybe check this out before selling foot pics.

Phone in hand, he tapped a pen on his knee, waiting for someone to pick up. Pick up pick up pick up pick u- THANK YOU.

“You’ve reached Beacon Hills Wildlife Preserve Management, how may I help you?” Secretaries all had this extremely creepy customer service voice that was robotic. Every one of them had the same voice.

What in the flying technicolor fuck was the Beacon Hills Wildlife Preserve number doing in this bizarrely ominous letter? This couldn’t be real. “Uh, could I talk to whoever’s in charge?” He sounded so lame. He could hear himself sounding so incredibly lame.

“May I ask for the purpose of your call so I can route you to the correct person?” The woman’s voice indicated that she could hear his lameness.

“Uh, I got bills I need to pay and I need help, I was told to call the number.”

“I’m sorry, we have no open positions at this ti-“

“Wait, wait wait, can I speak to the, uh, Hale in charge?” He remembered there was a name in the letter, maybe the name would help.

“Transferring your call now.” The voice cut directly to a hold tone. Well, that got him instant results.

The pen tapping his knee increased in speed as he waiting for someone to pick up the phone.

----

“This is completely insane.” Talia Hale rubbed her temples, a headache coming on. The fae wanted to move their court to the Preserve, even though that would not only effectively shut down anyone else trying to use the land. Some true galaxy-brain level genius released no less than five wolpertingers into the forest and now every one of her soldiers was out hunting goddamn flying jackalopes. And now, this.

“We have to do something, though.” Laura stood in the middle of the room, arms folded. “They won’t just stop here. Jerry’s bloodthirsty, and he wants a werewolf with an apple in his mouth on his Christmas dinner table.”

“Not it.” Peter said, because it was the most inappropriate thing that he could possibly say. He felt the eyes of the ladies staring at him, and decided not to acknowledge it. “Would you prefer nose game?”

“Thank you for your contribution.” Unhelpful ass. Talia stood, looking at the map of the preserve on the center table in the room. The lines marked out territories, the fenced off areas for endangered species, paranormally important spots, the Nemeton of course, everything of relevance. And right on their eastern border was a brand new Argent Armory establishment. How they got clearance for that when California had some very impressive gun laws was beyond her. The local lines had been redrawn and somehow those French-blooded fucks had gotten the ordinances to allow a firing range. Which would allow them to have a massive store house of guns and ammunition right there, so they could plan to clean house.

“Can we claim it’ll disturb the birds?” Laura offered. “It must, right?”

“Maybe. But you know the people love their guns. And don’t care about birds.” The phone started ringing across the room. “I’m more worried one of em will gun down a wolpertinger and then I’ll have way too many questions to answer.” The door opened brusquely and a young man strode in, looking cross as ever, throwing the body of a rabbit-quail-deer looking thing on Talia’s desk. “Number three.” He was slightly out of breath, looking at the body like it had personally called him a bitch. “And maybe they won’t shoot wolpertingers, but someone definitely did fucking shoot me.” He yanked off his coat and, yep, that was a bullet wound on his shoulder.

Laura poked it, just to hear him yell at her. Cain instinct.

“Stop it.” Talia gently smacked Laura’s hand. “You see who did it?”

“Y’even need to ask?” He snapped. He watched Gerard Argent smile and wave just a little from his property line, walking back as calm as he pleased at the edge of the woods. The bullet wasn’t wolfsbane, but in a way that was even worse. A wolfsbane bullet would at least do something. It would kill him, yeah, but it was a purpose that had a ‘reasonable’ point. The point of this mundane bullet was just to piss him off. And it was working.

“Will someone answer that phone?” Talia asked, fussing over her wounded boy.

---

Stiles sat in the office of the BHWPM headquarters, with a cup of coffee in his hands. The woman in front of him had introduced herself as Talia Hale, and given that two of the children in the room had the same severe cheekbones, dark hair, and piercing stare like they could see right into his bone marrow, he was fairly certain they were her children. They were attractive in the exact way that terrified him, which was probably not a good thing, because that was definitely his type. “Your father has done a great deal for us over the years, we are happy to help you now in payment for the help he gave you. Is it money you need?” Talia asked, looking over the young man. While not unkempt, there was something in the rakish hair and the unpressed shirt that said he might not be doing so well.

“A job would probably be better, I’ve been trying to get further in the FBI, but-“ He shrugged, not keen to detail his psychiatric history to people he didn’t know. “That’d be more of a help than a one-time get-outta-debt free card.”

“The FBI?” Talia asked, looking at him with new eyes. “Do you know what your father did with us, exactly?”

Stiles was entirely clueless. “I’m....guessing he helped clear drunk hooligans outta the preserve?” Stiles was definitely not the drunk hooligans ever, shut up. “Nah, I’m guessing he helped you hide bodies, smuggle people, and/or doctored police records for Scary One and Scary Two over there, and instead of taking bribes he took it on future favors.” The vibe in this room was way too Corleone for it to not be some undercover operation.

While the woman’s expression didn’t shift even at the comment to her own children, something in her eyes imperceptibly altered. Something a bit like amusement, or interest. “Would you want a job with someone who would do those kinds of things?”

“If my dad thought it was a good thing to do, it must have been for damn good reasons. I’m willing to find out.

“Derek, why don’t you take Stiles to get a proper suit. If he’s running with us, we need him looking the part.” Talia said with a smile. “And get him a proper gun.”

Scary Two: Tall Dark And Terrifying stepped forward and walked Stiles out the door without a word. He could work with that, and hey, any excuse to ogle the boss’ kid, right?

-----------

And Stiles thought those little fuckin wolpertingers were bad.

This was, in fact, infinitely worse.

He sat next to Derek in their little foxhole, only yards away from the Argent stronghold. Apparently Cora, the last piece of the Hale puzzle, and the so-described baby of the family, was inside. Who the fuck steals a baby, Stiles thought. And every one of them was ready to go utterly feral to get it.

Feral being both the operative word and unsettlingly accurate, as it turns out, with his boss lady on all fours and snarling at the people lobbing smoke grenades at them. Derek had his fangs out and everything, but luckily said nothing about how clearly Stiles wanted to climb him like a slightly more angular pine.

Because werewolves. Of course werewolves. Why wouldn’t there be werewolves.

Stiles popped out of the foxhole and nailed one of the Argent soldiers directly in his face, giving a startle to the others behind the line and giving an opportunity.

Stiles didn’t run out first, everyone else could go first and get shot at, he didn’t really want to catch any of them. Instead, he snuck out and around the melee, getting his gangly ass right into their stronghold as Talia was probably ripping someone’s throat out. Ew.

Inside was warm, and a little off-beat. “Hey, Cora?! Where you at!” He hissed, gun drawn in case someone stayed behind. He snuck around, looking for where the baby would be. Make a sound kiddo, come on, something, Uncle Stiles didn’t have a super-sniffer equipped.

After poking around what felt like a century, he finally heard the whine of an itty bitty kid, and lo there the child was, adorable as a button. “Aw, heya kiddo, c’mere.” He picked up the child, humming a little to try and keep them calm as he now had the great joy of having to get out of there. With the kid. He walked the whole back-asswards way around to stay far enough away from gunshots and yelling, because if that baby started crying, both of their asses would be dead! And the werewolves could smell his and Cora’s cocktail of gross or whatever, they could track him down anyway and it would be fine! Cora was fine, he was fine, everything was Gucci.

Back at the headquarters, he started looking around for anything that would help the child, blankets or diapers or at least something. But there wasn’t even a car-seat or anything. Where were they keeping the kid if the whole family was there the whole damn time? Stiles sat in one of the office chairs, baby sleeping soundly on his chest, as he waited for the family to get back.

There was no calm awakening for either, as a foot blasted through the door of the wildlife preserve office, splintering it instead of opening it. The sound of the voice cursing was definitely Derek, and he busted it down properly, a slight girl’s arm over his shoulder and a quart or so of blood apiece on everyone.

“Stiles, where the fuck did you go, we-“ Derek halted his scolding when he looked at him.

“Shhhhh, you’ll wake Cora up!” Stiles hissed.

Derek blinked those stupid pretty eyes as he looked truly lost for words. “Stiles.”

“Yeah?”

“Where did you get a baby?”

“Whaddaya mean? In the stronghold, where you all said-“

“This is Cora.” He said, pointing to the unconscious woman he dragged in.

Oh. Baby of the family meant. Youngest sibling not. Actual infant. Huh.

Huh.

So then who exactly was he holding???

“Who the fuck steals a baby?” Peter asked,  pointing at the kidnapper.

Stiles looked at the child like it had turned into a 30 megaton nuke.

Talia sighed. “Stiles.”

“Yes’m.”

“....Laura, go get some formula and diapers. I’ll....ask around about the baby.”

----

Stiles didn’t get into the family business to actually start a family. This was not his intention in the slightest. But here he was, singing a very off-key Jurassic Park theme song he composed himself to a tiny baby girl he decided to call Izzy, after his suggestions of Katie, Smelborp, Stormageddon, Cirilla, and Dreamsmasher were all shot down.

Derek walked in, and stood next to Stiles, hands out, offering to take the kiddo. Derek shouldn’t be allowed to dress down ever in Stiles’ presence, because the thin tee and the sweatpants were doing far too many good things for him. Too much was on display.

“No. Mine. Go kidnap your own.”

Derek exhaled, which was as close as Stiles ever got to a laugh from him. “C’mon, you’re dead on your feet, you adrenaline crashed hours ago, and the kid’s not falling asleep anytime soon. Give her over, alright?”

“Mine.”

“I get it, I get it, you like the kid. But what happens when you get attached and we have to hand the kid back over?” Derek folded his arms, and it....hhough he shouldn’t be allowed to fold his arms either, what were those arms even??? It wasn’t fair. Stupid werewolf whatever magic bullshit.

“Give her back?” Stiles asked, offended by the suggestion. No, they were not giving Isabel back, no no no, not happening.

“Yes, give her back. Do you think you can just keep her here forever? The Argents might burn the whole preserve down if this is one of their daughters. You don’t have a birth certificate for her, even.”

“Shhhhhh stop saying sense words.”

Derek slipped his arms in and yoinked the baby before Stiles could react, but as soon as the baby was nestled against him, Stiles didn’t have the heart. Derek looked hot as hell all the time, but that, with the light from the lamp bouncing off of his face, and even a smile? He was beautiful. “There, was that so hard?”

“Yes. Give her back.” But Stiles wasn’t trying to take her back, he knew in a battle of strength he wasn’t going to win that. Unless it was strength of will, that he could go toe-to-toe with any of them. Stiles sat in one of the chairs, ready for a long night ahead of him, watching Derek pace softly in socked feet around the room.

With Izzy settled in a makeshift crib, Derek sat in another chair, rubbing his eyes that were still dusted with gunpowder and smoke from the fight. Cora was up and running again, talking things over with Talia and Laura, his job was to watch the baby. And Stiles, though they came as a joint package.

Stiles fiddled with a fraying end of the chair. Ever since he joined the family months ago, he didn’t ask any of the specifics of what his father did, but he was curious. “You know what my dad did, exactly, to get this kind of treatment for me?”

Derek looked up. “You sure you want to know?”

“Yes.” Stiles had stolen a baby he wasn’t exactly king of the moral high ground that day.

Derek sighed, thin mouth pressed so tight it was almost one dimensional. But something in his mind must have won out, that Stiles deserved to know, so he told. About how he was fifteen, with a girlfriend, and given some frankly terrible advice from Peter, that ended up getting her in a bad way, and Derek had to snap her neck. It was a mercy kill, but that was a dead girl’s body, and any whiff of that reaching the public would ruin Derek’s life forever.

Talia and Claudia had been friends for years, so when Talia asked for John to come to the preserve, no lights no sirens, for a favor, she made a leap of faith that John wouldn’t betray her family. But he didn’t. John fixed the autopsy results to show she was hit by a car, fixed everything up so she was mourned by her family in the normal way for a tragic death, and no one was the wiser that Derek had killed her.

Stiles was silent for a long time after that. Derek thought he’d fallen asleep, but finally Stiles spoke. “He did the right thing. He warned me, you know, that he did and accepted some things I might not like. But that’s....that’s not what happened.” They looked at each other for a moment, the quiet intimacy of secrets laid bare broken by the sound of a stirring baby.

“Aw c’mon Izzy, please just sleeeeep.....be a good lil Mafia princess for me, huh?” Stiles begged, getting up.

“We’re not the Mafia!” Derek objected.

“You wear suits, you talk about the family business, you run a front organization to alter cashflow, just cause you’re wolves doesn’t make you not-Mafia.”

----

“She’s a spark.” Talia announced to the collected family, Izzy playing with the square in Derek’s suit pocket.

“Shiiiiit, where’d they get one of those?” Peter asked, side-eyeing the little one. Someone snapped at him about his language choices, but it didn’t matter, as he would continue to do what he wanted. Stiles didn’t care for Peter too much in general, but after hearing what happened with Derek and Paige, he was not exactly feeling it.

“Explanation for the newbie?” Stiles asked with a raised hand.

“Spark, you know, magical talent. Some channel it into Druidism, some channel it in other magical schools of thought, that kind of thing. They become our emissaries, or...if the Argents raise one up from the ground, a devastating weapon.” Laura explained, looking at Isabel with a look more concerned and less suspicious.

“Oh, you mean like this?” Stiles snapped both sets of fingers, and a shot of electricity arced from one thumb to the other.

Every wolf in the room stared at him in utter silence for a solid ten seconds of uncomfortable quiet.

“Stiles.” Derek ventured the conversation.

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you tell us you could do that.”

“Didn’t ask.”

“Are you always this- never mind I know you are.” Derek shook his head.

Stiles grinned at being so well known, but the conversation was too serious for many jokes. “We’re not giving the her back to those unhinged fu- people, are we? She’s like me. Mine.”

“Well. That depends. If she was born to one of them, they are their child.” Talia wouldn’t like that if it were the case. “But, the fact that the police haven’t knocked on our door tells me that either they think we’ll kill the kid if they do, or they have no better right to her than anyone else. I think it’s the latter. However, they’ll bring their whole force against us to get her back. If we had John-”

Stiles froze at the mention of his father’s name, but said nothing more.

“If we had John, we would definitely be able to sort her paperwork out. But we don’t. We need to find a new contact in the police that can arrange us those papers. Until we get that, Derek and Stiles, I want you both to take her into the vault with everything you need to last a week with her. You’ll be safe there. Any questions?”

Stiles raised his hand again. “Is there wi-fi in the vault?”

---

There was no wi-fi in the vault.

There was also no cell service either, which meant no Netflix, which meant no video games, no Youtube, nothing to amuse him. And it was only two days in. He had nothing. Except for, of course, annoying Derek. At least Derek was very generous in this.

“Twenty questions.”

“No.”

“I’m thinking of....a noun.”

“No.”

By four days, Stiles had run out of annoyances and had drifted into just mindlessly babbling at Izzy, while Derek’s forehead wrinkles got worse and worse with every minute that his brain cells slipped away.

On the sixth day, Derek finally decided to play ball. Either Stiles had worn him down enough, or maybe the two bottles of whiskey were going to help him cope.

“Truth or dare?” Stiles offered, smile with as he took the offered booze.

“Only because I don’t have a deck of cards. As a warning, never play Laura in King’s Cup, she has never lost a game and given me alcohol poisoning three times.”

“How does the whiskey even work on you, Mr. Healsalot.”

“Is Healsalot the best you can do?”

“Shut up.”

“It’s actually a bit of halite. Disables werewolf abilities while in close proximity, if something happens I toss it away as quick as possible and I’m good in, I’d say a minute or so with this level of exposure. Cora had a couple day’s worth, which is why she was knocked out.”

“Gotcha.” At least it made as much sense as anything else these weirdo furries got up to. Once each had downed a respectable amount of alcohol, they could begin. “Alright, truth or dare, big guy.”

“Dare.”

“Dare you toooooo.....fuck never mind there’s nothing fun to dare you with in here. These are all your family’s valuables and shit how am I supposed to dare you to dress up in Auntie Myrtle’s wedding dress and sing Poker Face on video for my own personal blackmail?”

“Truth, then.”

“You like guys?”

Derek stared at the directness of the question. “Subtle, aren’t we?”

“Literally never.”

“Okay. Sometimes.” Stiles didn’t look happy about the answer. “Why did you steal the baby?”

“I thought she was Cora!”

“You thought they wouldn’t have any sort of defenses around the hostage they’d taken from the werewolf family that they were fighting a turf war with?!”

“Shhhhhhh it’s fine it’s fine it all worked out right?”

“Did it? We’re hiding in a vault, that you have not stopped bitching about once since we came in here, and we might be giving her back, and even if we don’t, who’s going to take care of her?”

“Me.”

“You.”

“Moi. Yo. Io. You want it in any other language?”

“Polish?”

“Fuck you.”

“You wish.” Derek had something of a grin as he took another shot.

“Do you wish you could fuck me?” Stiles was getting bolder a couple shots in.

Derek took a moment to answer. “Sometimes.” Vague bastard.

“Oh? Like when?”

“Ah ah ah, my turn.” Derek took a swig, forgetting the dainty shot glass. “How many moles you got?”

“You wanna count em up?”

“Not an answer.”

“Over a hundred.”

Derek nodded, considering this thought as carefully as someone half-drunk really can. “Interesting.”

“Where do your eyebrows go when you shift?”

“How the fuck am I supposed to answer that question?”

“It’s your body, dude! How am I supposed to know how many moles I got when you don’t know where your friggin eyebrows go?!?!” Stiles’ limbs flailed as he gesticulated his exasperation.

“You’re gonna wake Izzy.” Derek warned. The baby was in another room of the vault so she could sleep while the adults could have their last-day-of-vaulting fun.

“Alright alr- wait, you called her Izzy.”

“No I didn’t.”

“Yeeeeeeees, yes you did you called her Izzy instead of the baby. You like her.”

“Shhh.”

“New question: do you like Isabel Stilinski-Hale, the new baby of the family?”

Derek chuckled, man he really must be drunk. “We’re hyphenating?”

“I found her so I get first billing, but like y’all took me in so like, I guess you can join. Whatever.”

“Yes, I like the kid. She’s pretty good for a baby. Only projectile vomited on me twice. That’s not bad.”

“She’s the best kid.”

“Do you really think you’re in a good place to adopt her right now in your life?”

“Nooooo stop with the serious questions.” Stiles whined. “Serious ones aren’t fun let’s get back to the flirty ones those were fun.”

“It’s my question.” Derek shrugged.

“If I stole you as a kid I’d name you Moodkiller the Great.”

“Is ‘the Great’ my last name or is ‘the’ my middle name, like Kermit.”

“God you’re such a fucking nerd.”

“You know, no, I’m not in like the...perfect spot. But who IS when they get a kid? And I got the magic thing, and she does, so like....I dunno, she’s got no one else, probably, so.....wouldn’t you guys help me?” Stiles’ big dark eyes looked so beautiful in the scant light of the vault. Derek’s kryptonite.

“Of course we would, don’t be stupid.” Derek mumbled, looking away.

“.....Isabel Stilinski-Haaaale you’re gonna come home with uuuuuuus.” Stiles grinned, getting his own way.

“Whose turn is it?” Derek asked, not sure where the game had gone.

“Mmmmmine. I think. Maybe. Does it matter?”

“Guess not.”

Stiles paused for a second, looking at the distance between them on the floor, the thought process unfolding before Derek’s eyes as he saw Stiles decide exactly how to ambulate himself closer. With a thud, Stiles flopped on top of him and they fell flat on the floor.

“Ow.”

“Oh shut up that didn’t hurt, you big baby.” Stiles wasn’t going to let Derek get another word in, pressing his mouth against his, clumsy and off-center and everything bizarrely fitting together despite everything.

Derek only let Stiles win that for a half a second, before pinning Stiles down to the floor himself.

----

Stiles’ hangover next day was legendary. The wakeup screaming baby was violence to his ears and Derek was disgustingly FINE and Stiles hated him so much except for the fact that he still wanted to make out with his stupid face. Once he got up off the floor maybe. Everything hurt. Ow.

“C’mon, dumbass, Mom and Laura showed up outside, they said we got the kiddo and gotta go fill out the paperwork at the station. Gotta tell the world she’s your girl.”

“Yeah.” Stiles mumbled a little, looking up at Derek with the baby on his hip. “Mine.”

[lovehugsandcandy]

Hit Like You Love: Fast, Hard, and With Maximum Scarring (RoD, Colt x MC implied)

A/N: “I, I keep a record of the wreckage in my life.” - “Nightmare,” Halsey.  Happy MC Day, everyone!

Pairing: Colt x MC (implied), ROD

Length: ~4000 words

Rating: R (This is kinda dark. Swearing, blood, violence …Ellie is not doing well here; I mean, girl kinda had a rough senior year.)

Summary: Ellie’s first year at Langston, punctuated by the inevitable breakdown.

She was being haunted. She swore to God, she swore, she was being haunted.

It was either that or she was going insane.

“I am so so sorry. It’s just….”

His posture eased as he looked her over. When he had turned, quickly, startled by her rough hand clasping his forearm, she thought he would throw a punch, her muscles tensing as she expected the hit. But when he caught sight of her, a small girl staring as if he was a hallucination from the past, he obviously didn’t think she was much of a threat. He only blinked behind his glasses as she struggled to speak.

“You just look like someone I used to know.”

He brushed a strand of his long hair off his face, the dark lines of his tattoos shifting with every movement of his hand, as if they were alive.

“No worries.”

She blinked back the tears as she stepped back, meek smile on her face; she could only nod as she shoved her hands in her pockets and hurried away. She had been on her way to the gym, could still make her session if she hurried, but she was now one of those crazy people who hung out in Langston Square, harassing strangers. She could have sworn, from the back…

He was tall and lanky and moved with the same manic energy. He had even been looking over a sports car for Christ’s sake.

She had to shake her head. It wasn’t him, it wasn’t them, it never was. 

She walked faster, breezing into the studio with minutes to spare, darting into the locker room to drop her stuff, wrap her hands, and grab her gloves.

Talia gave her a wave as she walked over. “How you doin’ today, darlin’?

“Fine.” She shot her a tight smile. After training together for months, Talia had an ingrained understanding of when Ellie wanted to talk and when she wanted to hit. And today, she wanted to hit. Hard.

“Ok. Let’s get you to the heavy bag to start.”

She breathed through her nose; this was her favorite, her time to hit as ferociously as she wanted, not worrying about aiming towards the pads of the instructor or dodging the blows from a partner. She could channel everything, all her pain, all her rage, right into the tall bag in front of her, feeling the fire and fury flying through her fists until she collapsed.

At the beginning, she had her pick of whose face she would see. Mostly, it had been Jason, with his machinations and his cold villainy upsetting the lives of the people she loved. Sometimes, it was Kaneko, whose machinations were no less lethal, except he was the one who died, leaving behind hollow eyes and heartbreak. Sometimes, it was her dad, for never seeing her, the real her, instead imagining an angel where a flesh-and-blood person existed. A couple of times, it was Logan, for getting her into this mess in the first place.

A lot of times, more times than she ever would admit, it was Colt, the self-proclaimed king of LA. She could see him clear as day in front of her, smug smile just demanding to be punched off his beautiful face. She would punch his jaw with all the anger of being alone, left hook to the nose with the pain of both leaving and being left behind, and a right cut hardest of all, imagining hitting the beautiful brown eyes and the immaculate eyebrows, imagining he was right there, putting all her force into the face of the boy whose brokenness broke her heart.

Now, after months of training and hitting, it was always the same person, imagining the same face in the bag in front of her as she pummeled away, anger overflowing and exploding until she collapsed onto the mat, a sweaty mess. 

How did she get here? How was she not smart enough to get out earlier, before everything had crumbled and broken like shards of glass? How had she lost everything, including herself? 

Why was she so adrift, alone?

She was no queen. She was just someone who couldn’t keep it together, someone who couldn’t save the people she cared most about.

She kept going going going as she beat the utter shit out of herself, the guilt and pain she felt every day turned onto the bag until her fists throbbed and her knuckles bled and she could focus on the type of hurt that could be bandaged and iced and solved with time and painkillers.

“Your form is slipping. Left punch, getting sloppy, power from your body, not just your arm.”

She blinked the sweat from her eyes to return to the present, focusing on the bag, her face, and slamming her fist against her own jaw in a violent penance.

~~~~~

The first time was October. The summer had gone by in a daze; she passed through classes and classmates as if drugged, days blurring from one to the next as she tried to reconcile the last few months with her current life.

She did not want to go to class today, a brisk October morning, the hot summer slowly fading into cool breezes and warm sweaters. She was on her way to the Starbucks, early; it was a bit out of her way but the coffee at the campus center was absolutely foul.

She was about to walk in, avoiding the constant stream of commuters, when the rev of an engine made her pause. Traffic was always crazy here and, if there were sports cars, it was usually only late Saturday night, when the roads were empty and the cops were out corralling drunks, only on Saturdays when she could watch the cars zoom through the streets. She never joined them; even just watching hurt her heart too badly.

She meant to take a quick look, just a glance over her shoulder, but froze when she saw the car, stopped at the light. The yellow caught her eye and, as she looked through the crowd, her feet moved before she realized what it was, body faster on the uptake than her mind. She broke into a run, backpack slamming into her spine with each step; she had to make it before the light turned, pushing through people in power suits on their way to the subway. A yellow GT was such a rare sight; all she could see was the car, so close but so far away, shoulder checking the crowd out of her way.

Someone started yelling at her when their coffee ended up on the pavement. She kept running.

She arrived at the corner just in time to see the light change, to hear the roar of the engine, the squeal of the tires. She couldn’t see the driver but it looked like a MA licence plate.

It wasn’t. It definitely wasn’t. 

Could it be?

No. She was haunted. Or she was losing her mind.

~~~~~

That was when she started going to the boxing gym. It was more expensive than the athletic center on campus but it was where she could go and bang out all her frustration, all her anger. It was cathartic. 

And it was definitely what she needed in February when she overheard a feminine voice speaking in a familiar tongue, the melody washing over her as she sat in the library, bent over a textbook.

“Min khilal almueanat ainbathaqat…”

Ellie looked around, dropping her pen, standing. Her chair fell to the floor but she didn’t even realize, didn’t hear the crash. Who was speaking? Was she hearing things? Hearing things in Arabic?

“’..aqwaa alnufusa; ‘akthar alshakhsiat…” 

Ellie ducked through the stacks, frantic, closer to the words, sprinting forward to a small desk in the corner, overlooking the quad.

“…alhayilat mahruqat bialnadabat.” She had dark hair, shining in the fluorescent lights of the library. 

Ellie sprinted closer, the girl turning at the footsteps, loud in the stillness of the library. “That’s Lebanese poetry.”

The girl looked blankly at her. “Uh, yeah? It’s Kahlil Gibran.”

Ellie studied her. The girl looked like an upperclassman, large glasses hiding pale eyes. Not …not anyone she knew. “I just…I’ve heard that before.”

“Okay?”

Ellie had enough social sense to know that she was intruding but she had always wondered. “What does it mean?”

The girl raised a manicured eyebrow, peering at Ellie. “Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.”

Of course it did. Ellie could only nod, turning to her table, intent on packing up her things and putting some distance between her and the ghosts.

~~~~~

She kept studying. Kept her head in the books. Finals were a month away. She couldn’t have her breakdown now.

She was enjoying the sun in the quad and was almost done highlighting the last chapter of her history book, almost ready to start the slow process of reviewing the material for the final, when she heard it. She would know that noise anywhere.

There was a motorcycle winding through campus, heading up the hill towards the dorms, slowly, probably unable to get to speed due to all the students out on this pristine day.

It wasn’t just any motorcycle; it was a Cavalieri. She knew that roar intimately, the purr of engine and kick of the muffler so familiar from flying down the highway, arms clutched around the boy she abandoned, across the country, along with the piece of her heart that would fill the gaping hole in her chest. It was probably a Novanta too, probably white, just one more thing designed to test her sanity and find it wanting.

She didn’t even look up, didn’t turn to see the source of noise. She just packed up her stuff and trudged back to her dorm to grab her gym bag.

She was losing her mind.

~~~~~

She really needed to punch today. The weight of finals was upon her, studying and papers and presentations sending her reeling.

Even worse was the thought of summer break, looming, always there in the back of her mind. She had no idea what she was going back to. She tried to put it aside, tried to ignore it, pinching her skin to distract her, the sharp prick of pain enough to move the thoughts from her head to the present. 

But today, even the strongest pain wasn’t enough to quell her anxiety. The burn of her blood and the chatter in her brain was particularly strong. She had to get off campus.

She walked down the street, eyes down, visualizing the movement of her hands, her fists hitting the bag, when the store to her left called to her. It was a small tattoo shop, dim, door open in the morning breeze, art on the wall showcasing the designs. The line work was beautiful, absolutely gorgeous, but one design in particular caught her eye, Ellie peering in the window for a closer look.

She knew those lines, the delicate tufts of the feather, the same feather that adorned her shoulder. That was her tattoo.

Ellie took a step towards the door, entered the shop, in a daze. In a small room behind a curtain, the tattoo gun was going, mechanized needle whirling. 

Ellie couldn’t breathe.

The needle stopped. “Sweetie, you ok?” a feminine voice asked, calm, gentle.

Ellie couldn’t think. She burst through the curtain so quickly it was like it wasn’t there, barely recognizing the shout of the tattoo artist as her gaze swept the room. Where was she? Where was she?

The artist just stared at her, needle gun in hand, still crouched over her customer, a man who was getting a tramp stamp. The customer stared too, looking up at her from the reclined chair.

“Hello?” The artist was tiny, a frail thing that would only have come up to Ximena’s stomach, the bright blues and pinks of her sleeves a marked contrast to the intricate black lines that traced up Ximena’s arms.

Ellie couldn’t say anything. She could have sworn…she was certain…

“Well, this is wicked weird. If you wanted to see my ass, you coulda just asked.”

She was losing her mind.

“I’m so sorry.”

The girl stood, concerned glance sweeping down Ellie’s face. “Are you sure you’re ok, sweetie?”

That kindness, that word-it was the last thing Ellie could bear. She was not ok.

She backed away, through the curtain, and fled. She made it four steps down the street, and had to put her hands on her knees as her breakfast came up, thick and acidic, her mouth and nose clogging with the smell, stomach acid and digested food in a pile on the sidewalk. She was choking, air unable to fill her lungs, retching, getting the last dregs in her stomach out, coughing, hunched over the street, tears mixing with the vomit on the ground.

“Are you ok?”

She whirled, hands coming out to shove, hard, get that hand off her shoulder, get it away from her. She barely registered the surprised look, the face of a stranger, blurry through the tears. “Fuck off!”

Then she ran. She flew, sprinted to the gym, feet furiously pounding a rhythm on the streets, bag flying behind her as she dodged puddles and potholes and people and dogs on leashes that were barely visible at speed.

Her mind was buzzing as she stormed in, wrapping her wrists fast, too fast, too tight, but oh well; they would loosen when she started punching.

Talia raised an eyebrow at her but said nothing about her appearance or her energy, frazzled, frantic, desperate. “Partner practice today.”

Ellie blinked. She didn’t even notice the other boxer there. Today, she was partnered up with a taller girl. She had seen her around the gym occasionally, training, horsing around at the front desk.

“Fine.”

Ellie slid on her gloves, ducking into the ring. She had hated this when Talia suggested it but didn’t care today, couldn’t care about anything but getting her fists flying, needing the movement to drown out everything in her head.

Her mouth tasted awful, sour, but it faded into the background as she studied her opponent and listened for Talia’s count.

And then sprung.

Usually, she waited, circling, studying her opponent, looking for weaknesses. Today was a day for action.

And she already knew Jason’s weaknesses anyways. 

She got him quick, in the jaw, the surprised gasp from his lips the most beautiful thing she had ever heard. She hit Kaneko, hard, left hook, usually her weakest punch, but today it landed with the force of retribution.

She hit herself, over and over and over again, sweat blinding her, but she kept charging anyways, fists flying. The Ellie in front of her fell, flat on her back, overcome by the force of her anger, and she jumped; once she was straddled on top of her, thighs squeezing her stomach and forcing the air from her lungs like she could squeeze the mistakes from her soul, it was so easy to punch down, fists flying so fast her form fell off and it was just a blur of slamming fists, pain radiating up her arms as they moved faster and faster than ever before.

“Stop!” Strong arms wrapped around her waist, picking her up. Ellie fought back like a wildcat, spitting and scratching and kicking. She needed just one more punch, one more hit. “Ellie, stop!”

She blinked, world coming back into focus. Talia was staring at her, eyes wide. On the ground, the girl, her partner, her sparring partner oh crap, she was just sitting up, looking dazed, blood flowing from a broken nose, a split lip.

Ellie looked around. They were starting to attract a crowd, the muscled bros taking an interest and starting to wander over.

Talia gritted her teeth. “Showers. Now.”

Ellie couldn’t say a word, could only look down at the blood before fleeing to the locker room. It was empty when she slammed in, the crash of the door behind her echoing on the tiles. She looked at her reflection, bent over the sink. Her hair was wild, frizzing atop her head and falling out of her ponytail. Her eyes were red, deep circles under her eyes that could be mistaken for bruises. She looked wild, untamed, ferocious.

She looked like the same girl who had lost everything and everyone.

She didn’t realized that she made a fist until her hand crashed into the mirror, shards flying, tinkling onto the counters and sink like a bell, ringing to signal her descent to the underworld, to madness. She slammed her fist into the mirror again and again and again, primal scream forcing her pain to echo around her, blood dripping down her forearm and falling onto the porcelain, splattering into an angry design, documenting her rage in vivid, angry red.

“Whoa.” Talia was there, grabbing her shoulder, turning her. “Stop, stop.”

Ellie’s breath was coming in spurts. She couldn’t catch her breath, inhale and exhale shuddering, unsteady. “I’m sorry. I’ll pay for it.”

“Girl, I’m not worried about the mirror.” Talia pulled and then Ellie was in her arms, holding on for dear life, as the tears flowed down her cheeks and the sobs started. Talia held her, rubbing her back, murmuring nothings into her ear, until the water stopped flowing from her eyes, breath slowing to the occasional hiccups. “Ellie, what’s going on?”

“I think I’m losing my mind.” She slid onto the bench, suddenly boneless. “Tali, I think I’m going crazy.”

“Tell me.”

“I had…I had a rough time before I came here.” Once the words started, she couldn’t stop them. “I got in over my head and I did bad things, things that hurt people, things that hurt people I loved. I saw someone die in front of me, I had a gun pointed to my head, my friend got shot protecting me.” The blood was still dripping from her hand, onto the floor. “I left behind people that I loved and I hurt every single day.”

“Ellie….”  Talia sat next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, calming hands stroking her hair.

“I see it, I see them, every night. I see the car crash and the flames and the gun and I see his eyes after he lost everything. It’s all I see, them, him, over and over again, and I can’t do it, I can’t.” She swiped her hand over her eyes, realizing too late that she was just smearing the blood, pushing the glass into her cuts. “I just want….I want…”

“What do you want, darlin’?”

Ellie’s face crumpled. “I wanna go home.”

“Why don’t you?”

“I’m not sure the home I want exists anymore.”

~~~~~

It was late when she got back, dusk starting to fall as she opened the door. She was dropping her things on the floor when he roommate spoke. 

“You got some mail.” Angie was buried in a chem book at her desk, careful formulas written in neat pen. Ellie wasn’t close with her roommate but didn’t begrudge Angie that fact; Ellie knew she wasn’t the best person to live with right now. Consecutive nights of being awoken by your roommate, screaming from the dreams she couldn’t shake, nightmares that shattered her to the core, well, Ellie couldn’t blame the distance on Angie.

“Delivered here?”

Angie shrugged, holding out a small padded envelope. Ellie took it; no return address but the postmark was from LA. Her hands started shaking as she struggled once, twice, to rip it open.

Inside, her fingers found a  small piece of plastic. She pulled it out to study it and all the air left her lungs.

“Ellie?”

She tore into the envelope further, frantic; there was no note, nothing else, just this small piece of plastic. She knew immediately who it was from.

“Ellie? Is that a chess piece?”

“Yeah.” Ellie could only blink, eyes wide. “You see this too, right?“

Angie leaned back, averting her eyes, as she moved away from where Ellie was shaking the piece in her face.

“You see this too, right?” Ellie couldn’t stop the tears from pooling in her eyes. “It’s not a trick, not a hallucination, you see this right?!?!” She ended the question on a yell, a shriek, a high-pitched inhuman noise that grated in the room.

“Yes, Ellie.” Angie’s voice was calm, measured. She stood so the chair was between Ellie and herself. “It’s a chess piece.”

“It’s the queen.” The fight left Ellie as she stared at the piece in her hand. “It"s the most powerful piece in the game. It can move in any direction, as many moves as it wants.” It can move thousand of miles or it can stay close to home.

“I thought the king was the powerful one. Don’t you win in chess when you capture the king?”

She looked past her, jaw clenching. “A queen never lets her king fall.”

“Ellie, are you ok?” Angie stared at her, just watching, letting her sit in her memories and her pain. “I’m worried about you.”

Ellie had been worried for months, almost a year, worries streaming through her brain on an ever-looping playlist that she couldn’t turn off.

She dropped the queen, watching it roll under Angie’s bed, and walked out of their room.

~~~~~

She barely slept. The nightmares wouldn’t stop, Jason and her dad and the explosion on the bridge and Colt, always Colt, the king to her queen, she could never reach him, feet like molasses as she ran and struggled and screamed.

At least it had been finals and then planning the drive to LA and then packing, enough to do that she could fill her hours with coffee and tasks and boxing and hitting and more coffee and the days could blur together so it felt like she was walking through a fever dream, a faded world separate from herself.

Finally, the day came where she could leave. If she planned just right, this last box should fit in the trunk, squished between her suitcase and textbooks. 

She didn’t know if she would be back.

She tried to walk slowly, to force herself to look, to remember. If this really was her last day at Langston, she wanted to try to remember, remember the dorm, the hall, the stairs, every step. 

Maybe she hadn’t taken full advantage of college while she had been here but, if she were leaving behind her childhood dream, she would at least remember it.

But she didn’t think she would miss it.

The midday sun was blinding as she walked out, unsteady, heading down the path to her car. She had squint as she walked carefully down the stairs, through the parking lot, popping the trunk to throw the box in. She slammed it with a sigh. Guess this is it.

She walked towards the driver’s side and screamed.

“Ellie.”

She screamed again. She had lost it completely. Apparently leaving school was the last thing her fragile psyche could take and she lost her mind, hallucinations speaking to her and moving towards her, clad in leather, sunlight reflecting off the blinding white paint job on the bike behind them.

“Ellie.”

She backed against the door to her car. He stopped, wary, giving her some space.

They stared at each other. 

His face fell. 

He must have seen it in her eyes, seen that she was haunted and drowning. He knew that pain intimately because she could see it reflected right back at her, his own eyes cloudy with the past.

He took a step closer, hands outstretched, as if he was calming a wild animal. 

He had always known her better than anyone else in the goddamn world.

Another step closer, another, and she was falling, wrapped into his arms, jacket warm on her cheek, inhaling the scent of leather and motor oil with every breath as she sagged into him, tears pouring down her cheeks as her body shook in silent sobs. He held her up, silently, hands wrapped around her back, occasional kisses in her hair, on her cheeks.

Once the tears had stopped and she could look up at him, really see him, he smiled at her, soft, still holding onto her, holding her up until she could find her own footing.

“El? Let’s go home.”

Tags:  @deimosensblog @alegria1580  @choicesarehard @thefarrari @client-327 @moonlit-girl-wonder @going-down-downtown@soniadotalves@jolietmaraud @hazah@flowerpowell@poeticscolt@brightpinkpeppercorn @zaira-oh-zaira@desiree-0816 @leelee10898 @maxwellsquidsuit @liamzigmichael4ever @octobereighth @omgjasminesimone

[smokingveil]

13

It was an often good day when Bel’sharia could sit and write at her desk. it helped her collect her thoughts, putting them out on pen and paper, making riddles and rhymes of whatever was on her mind, creating puzzles and then slowly putting them together.However, today, it seems the streets below were busier then ever. Shouts, carts rolling, the builders building away, dogs bark, cats screeching. It was all too much for her currently, it was making her more and more agitated. For whatever reason everything seemed so much louder then before, even the scratching of the quill to the paper was too much. In the building agitation she thrusted back from her desk and hauled up the window to open it before leaning out and yelling down at the street, “Shut the fuck up!”As the street seemed to quiet down, the illidari sat back into her seat and began to write again and it was down to the ever annoying scratching of the quill over the paper. Hand shaking as she tried to strain it from making noise before finally snapping it and throwing it across the room.The impatience she had waiting for the day when she could have her Dar’thea back home was driving her mad. For now though, perhaps this puzzle of emotion was not going to be solved.thanks for the ask @talia-nightluck