#that photo of him with his tongue out and the red lighting will forever haunt my dreams

[heyyyitsmegia]

You're Safe With Me

PLEASE DON'T SKIP OVER THIS MESSAGE!!!

I would like to take a moment and thank my friend @spopas7 for being so kind to me and helping with this story. She has been such a blessing to me and this story wouldn't be possible without her. We both wrote this story together and we are currently working on a Thanksgiving story for you guys as we speak. So... thanks to my bestie for helping me and encouraging me to continue writing. You are the best and I love you. So without further ado... 

You're Safe With Me:

As I smoothed out the crinkles in my cowgirl costume, the flickering candlelight in the room danced across my skin, illuminating the freckles on my cheeks. My heart raced with anticipation as I admired myself in the mirror, my vibrant red hat perched jauntily on my head. Just as I thought I was ready, the door swung open, and there stood Jeremiah, clad in a Woody costume that hugged his muscular frame in all the right places.

"You look hot," he said, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he twirled me around.

Blushing, I giggled and replied, "Thanks. You do too, cowboy."

Jeremiah suggested we should get going. I wanted to walk to the party, cherishing each moment we had together under the starlit sky. Entrusting our hands to one another, we set off into the dark Halloween night.

As we arrived at Clay's house, the front yard was transformed into a haunted wonderland. I gazed in awe at the elaborate decorations, a ghostly apparition floating through the fog, while eerie sounds filled the air.

Drawing me close, Jeremiah's warm whispers tickled my ear. "Let's take pictures, so we can remember this Halloween forever."

I nodded, my heart swelling with love. We stepped inside the photo booth, capturing moments of joy and silliness. One photo of Jeremiah kissing my cheek, another with our tongues playfully sticking out, and finally, a tender gaze exchanged between us.

Exiting the photo booth, we collected the cherished mementos before catching sight of Taylor and Steven. Rushing over, we asked them to be part of a group picture. As the flash illuminated our laughing faces, I carefully tucked the photos into my purse, knowing they would forever hold the essence of this magical night.

Finding our designated table, we settled in, my purse finding its place next to me. The dimmed lights, shadows twirling across the room, and the scent of pumpkins blended seamlessly with the festive melodies floating through the air.

Jeremiah turned to me, his eyes brimming with affection. "Belly, may I have this dance?"

Beaming, I took his hand, feeling the warmth spread through my entire being, as if a million stars were alight inside me. We twirled and swayed, lost in our own world, our hearts beating in harmony.

"I love you, Bells." Jeremiah whispered in my ear.

"I love you too, Jere."

We danced for a little longer before Jeremiah announced he was going to go get drinks. Steven offered to help him. Me and Taylor continued to dance. We were having fun dancing together when I felt someone tap my shoulder.

I turned around, and there was Conrad. His hair was disheveled, and his clothes were one big wrinkle. "Conrad?"

"Hey Bells!" He beamed.

"I just came from another party... I thought that I would come by and see you!"

I rolled my eyes at him. He was drunk. I could tell. Anyone with working eyes could see that he had been drinking.

"Leave me alone, Conrad. You're drunk."

"You're being... ridicu-lush... 'm not that drunk..."

"Just go, Conrad!" I said, my lips tight.

"I don't... I don't know if I... I... if I wanna go..."

"Just go!" I screamed.

"Oh, come on, Bells. D-Dance wi-with me." He forcibly pulled me toward him, and I fought to get out of his arms. He released me, and I fell to the floor. As soon as I hit the floor, I felt a searing pain in my ankle. I looked up at Taylor in tears.

Taylor rushed over to me and asked, "Do you want me to go get Jeremy?" I nodded.

Jeremiah came running toward me, with Taylor right behind him.

"Belly, are you okay?" Jeremiah asked. I winced in pain, tears streaming down my face.

"What the fuck, Conrad!" Jeremiah screamed, "Get out of here!"

Jeremiah scooped me up off the floor and into his arms. He carried me to an empty room and sat me down on the couch. He took off my right shoe, and he looked down at my ankle.

"Yeah. It's twisted," he said. "I'm gonna go get an ice pack. Stay right here."

I nodded and watched him walk away. I looked down at my ankle. It was swollen. I heard footsteps, and I thought it was Jeremiah with my ice pack. But when I looked up, I was face-to-face with Conrad.

"Conrad. I told you to leave me alone." I said, angrily.

He steps closer to me and says, "I miss you, Belly. I still love you. I hate that Jeremiah and you are a couple. I want you to be with me, Belly."

"Well, it's too late for that, isn't it, Conrad? You had me. And then you left me. I love Jeremiah now. Not you."

He gets closer and says, "Come on, Belly, I know you still love me."

I try to push him away. "Go away, Conrad!"

Jeremiah comes in then. He sets the ice pack down on my ankle and grabs Conrad by the collar. "I thought I told you to leave!"

"I came to talk to Belly, if that's alright, Mom." Conrad mocks. The anger inside of me rises, and I push him. He stumbles.

"Go!" I say.

"Sure. But, I just have one question for Belly before I leave," he laughs and looks at me then and grins, "Belly? Which one of us is a better kisser?"

Before I know what I'm doing, my fist is striking Conrad's jaw. He stumbles backward and holds his jaw. He looks at me in shock. Like he couldn't believe I had hit him.

"I'm going to kill you!" He lunges at me, but before he can hit me, Belly steps in between us, and Conrad strikes her cheek. She stumbles backwards, pain etched across her face. I caught her in my arms. The sight of her bloodied cheek ignites a fire within me—a fire that screams for retribution.

"Belly, are you okay?" I asked, panic coursing through my veins. She winced in pain, her tears mingling with the blood rushing to her cheeks. Conrad's punch had caught her by mistake, but it was enough to send shockwaves of rage through me.

"What the heck, Conrad! You just hit my girl! What is wrong with you!??" Belly holds on to me tighter.

"Conrad, if you don't leave now, I will have someone escort you out," I growled, my voice laced with fury.

His expression a mix of defiance and spite, Conrad glared at Belly and muttered, "Fine... I'll go. This party's dead anyway." With one last venomous glare, he stormed out, leaving the room in an eerie silence.

Belly's tears flowed freely as she clung to me, her body trembling in my arms. I help her sit back down on the couch.

"Bells, how does your cheek feel? It's really red." I said.

"It hurts, but it will be okay." She puts the ice pack back on her ankle.

Gently, I brushed her hair away from her face, my eyes filled with remorse. "I'm so sorry, Belly. I didn't mean for any of this to happen," I whispered, my voice laden with guilt.

"It's not your fault," she says. "It's Conrad's."

Taylor and Steven walked in then.

"Are yall okay?" Taylor asked.

"Yeah, we are fine," I said. "But we are going home. Belly needs to rest."

Steven's eyes darted to Belly's ankle, which was visibly swollen and red. His face contorted with anger, but he kept silent, turning and walking away. Taylor watched him leave, utterly confused by his reaction. She turned back to Belly, worry etched on her face. "Do you need any help?"

"No. I got it."

Taylor nodded understandingly and said, "Take care of her, Jeremy."

"I will." I said.

I picked Belly up bridal style.

"I have to get my purse." She said.

"We will get it on the way out. First, I'm going to get a wet paper towel for your cheek." We went through the kitchen, and I got a wet paper towel. I gave it to Belly, and she put it on her cheek.

I walked back through the party with Belly in my arms. I got her purse, and we walked outside. When I walked outside, I heard shouting. Immediately, I knew the voices. Steven and Conrad.

"I should beat the shit out of you," Steven yelled.

Conrad says "I.... I thought you were on my side. I was trying to tell Belly that I was still in love with her."

"You had to be so angry about that... that you hurt my sister! No wonder Jeremiah is better for her!" Steven responds.

Conrad just looked at Steven in disbelief when he said that to him.

Taylor finally finds Steven and runs to him. "Steven, stop right now!" Taylor yells, placing her hands on his chest and pushing him back.

"No. Not until he apologizes." Steven responds angrily.

Jeremiah sets Belly down on the ground and wraps his arm around her shoulder. They walk over to them.

"He's not worth it," I whisper to Steven. "Just leave him alone."

"Yeah. It isn't worth it," Steven replies, looking at Conrad. "Don't ever come around me or my sister again!" He says to Conrad. Taylor takes his hand and leads him back inside.

Conrad looks at me and Belly. He shakes his head. Belly holds onto me tighter.

"It's okay," I tell her. "You're safe with me."

Belly looks up at Jeremiah. "Thank you. I'm glad I'm here with you."

Conrad waves us off and walks away. Me and Belly start to walk away when Belly says, "Ow. My ankle. I don't think I can walk, Jere."

I smile. "Hop on girl."

She giggles and climbs on my back. She nuzzles her head into my neck. I carried her on my back the whole walk home.

When we got back to the summer house, I carried Belly upstairs and into my room. She fell asleep. Luckily, she was a heavy sleeper. I laid her down on the bed and took off her shoes. I took off her cowgirl hat and unbuttoned her shirt, leaving on her white tank top that she was wearing underneath her shirt. I went to her room and got her favorite fall plaid pajama pants that my mom gifted her one Halloween. They were different colors of brown. She loved wearing them during the fall season. I headed back into my room and carefully but quickly put them on her. I then grabbed an extra pillow and propped her ankle on it. I then pulled back the covers, making sure she was safe and warm. I changed into my night clothes and climbed into bed with her.

She stirred, opened her eyes, and said, "Jere?"

I cuddled her to me, stroking her hair, and I whispered, "Shh. Go back to sleep."

"Hmm," she mumbled. "I love you, Jere." She whispered.

I kissed her forehead and said, "I love you more."

She went back to sleep, and soon I went to sleep too.

LATER THAT NIGHT:

I woke up to someone moving stuff around. It was coming from Conrad's room. I started to get up, to tell him off. I was still pissed about the party. I had contemplated it for a second, about going to talk to him, but before I could make up my mind, I heard the front door slam shut, followed by a car driving away. Belly jumped up, startled. I grabbed her and started rubbing circles on her back.

"What was that?" She asked me, frightened.

"Shh.. it's okay. It was just the front door.." I said, softly.

She fell back asleep really easily after that, and so did I.

THE NEXT MORNING:

As the sunlight peeked through the curtains, casting its warm glow into the room, I looked down at Belly and saw that she was still asleep. I carefully got out of bed and went downstairs. I crept into the kitchen, ready to cook up a delicious surprise for her. The tantalizing aroma of pancakes filled the air, as the batter sizzled on the hot pan. I busily arranged sliced strawberries on the side, garnishing the pancakes with a drizzle of syrup.

As I was fixing her breakfast, the front door opened, and Conrad walked in. He goes down the hall. I try to ignore the anger that is rising up in me, and I put the breakfast on the tray, ready to take it up the stairs, when Conrad steps into the kitchen.

He just looks at me and says, "I came to get some medicine for my headache." He shows me the aspirin.

I look at him and say, "What you did last night, especiallyto Belly, is not forgivable. You hurt her. And waking her up in the middle of the night. You really don't care about anyone but yourself."

Conrad just looked at me; he blinked, opened his mouth, and then closed it. He looked down at the ground, sighed, and then looked back up at me.

I waited for him to say something. Anything. But he didn't. I rolled my eyes, grabbed the tray that the breakfast was on, and walked past him and to the stairs. As I was going up the stairs, the front door closed behind me. He didn't slam it this time. I stopped and looked back, the glare of his windshield casting a shadow across the wall. I watched as the shadow disappeared as he drove away. I shook my head and continued up the stairs.

Quietly, I entered my bedroom, where Belly lay, still tangled in dreams. Leaning down, I brushed a gentle kiss upon her rosy lips, whispering, "I made breakfast."

Belly's eyes fluttered open, her excitement bursting forth like fireworks. "Oh my god, Jere," she exclaimed, tears of joy streaming down her cheeks. "You made me breakfast!" The happiness in her voice was music to my ears.

"Only the best for my girl," I replied, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. Sitting beside her on the bed, I held her hand tightly, reveling in the tender connection between us.

"I love you, Jere," Belly confessed, her eyes brimming with adoration.

"I love you more," I replied, my voice filled with unwavering conviction. I picked up a forkful of fluffy pancakes and brought it to her lips, watching as she savored the taste. In return, she playfully fed me a pancake, our lips meeting in the middle for a sweet and decadent kiss.

Giggles enveloped the room as we laughed, feeding each other pancakes and relishing the delicate flavor of strawberries. In that moment, it was as if time had stopped, leaving only the two of us and the unspoken promises of a love that would forever be infinite.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!! 🎃

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Home Sweet Home: Catch ‘Em

Summary- 3.9k Andy Barber x You. You and Andy almost have it all, married and with a jointed family consisting of Andy’s teenage son Jacob, as well as your two younger children John and Cassidy. Looking to add another member, your family is in need of a bigger house, a forever home. You find just the place, 112 Ocean Avenue in Amityville Long Island.    Home Sweet Home

Written for @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho​ Spooky Scary Stories challenge. Divider by @firefly-graphics​

Warnings- Child Endangerment, Hints of Smut (nothing graphic) Swears.

A/N- I chose Amityville Horror for the challenge because its one of my favorite Spook Stories growing up. When reading you will find a lot of similarities to the 2005 Movie, some of the scenarios and dialogue are specifically from that film. Other parts of it are from the book itself. The family name was changed for my own personal reasons. Happy Haunting!  🎃

A/N 2- We’re halfway through! 

Chapter 2 / Masterlist

The family settled and a few weeks later, morning started out normal for the rest of the household , but didn't start that way for Andy. His coughing never seemed to break and he was covered in a light sheen of sweat. You were already up to make breakfast for everyone, and Andy came down the stairs, rubbing at his chest. 

“Coffee Andy?” You ask while holding the coffee pot over his mug but he shook his head. 

“No, I actually came down hoping to find some cough syrup? Or pain medicine? Anything really. We don't have any upstairs.” 

“Oh I tossed out the old stuff. But I will pick some up when I go out today. I told Jacob that I would drop him off at the high school today after I got John on the bus.” 

Just as you were saying this, a stampede of footsteps came down the stairs making Andy wince a bit and all three kids came around the corner into the kitchen. Andy barked out a bit sharply, which even surprised you. “Y’all don’t need to be running on the stairs.” He coughed again and shivered. “Fuck its cold… I'm going down to check on the heater. If you could get that stuff, that would be great.” 

He snapped the door open and disappeared from sight while you were staring after him in surprise. Even all three of the kids seem to be in shock. Jacob just shrugged at his father's weird behavior and went to sit on a stool at the kitchen bar, the other two following him while you set plates with some scrambled eggs on them in front of them. Jacob just took toast nibbling on the edge of it a bit. 

“My phone cant keep any kind of charge whatsoever! I just got this thing to.” Jacob flipped it around to show you, and you saw it was already at 50 percent. You frowned at that, because of course he had one of the better styles of phones. Much better than anything you've ever had. 

“Your charging cord is working and everything?” You question and he nods, slipping it in his pocket. 

“Works just fine. It charges it to one hundred percent, twenty minutes later it is back down to fifty.” 

You shrug at Jacob at a loss and happen to glance at a small clock on the kitchen windowsill. “Shit.” you hiss out and down the last of your coffee. “Come on, time for the bus before we're late. Jake, meet you in the car.” You grab your car keys and open the door to call down to Andy. “I'm taking the kids to school.” 

You heard nothing more than a resounding deep cough and frowned reminding yourself to pick up that cough medicine for Andy on your way home. “Got your backpack John? Alright, lets go.” The whole pack of kids ushered out the door, leaving Andy all alone. 

Andy is pacing downstairs, waiting for the heater to kick on, cursing it out. 

“Spent all this money and the damn thing wont work.” he mutters while pulling the chair from his desk to it to sit in front of it, messing with the buttons on the front till a groaning protest came from the heater, and it clicked on to blast a bit of cool air, and quickly switched to warm. Rolling his chair back to his desk, he pulled out files from the bottom drawer to contact his clients and inform them that he was back in business at his new location. 

He was so tired though, having felt like he was up half the night feeling ill, and within a few moments he simply closed his eyes to rest them, he would use as an excuse to himself. Within moments he nodded off, and the creeping shadow came out of hiding, solidifying in front of his desk. Sharp clicking steps echoed against the cement floor and claws seared when they touched the wood of Andy's desk. It leaned forward to loom over the desk, over Andy whose chin rested against his chest. Forked tongue slithered along Andy's face, making him twitch in his sleep, whispering “Catch ‘em, Kill ‘em” Red eyes watched his victim for a moment, seemingly at peace in this state. It flexed its hands, claws scratching into the wood before giving a hard shake, sending  papers and pens flying, Andy’s laptop skidding across the surface and a picture that you had set on there yesterday crashing loudly to the floor. Cracking the glass into shattering pieces across the floor to glint wickedly. Andy’s eyes sprang open and he tipped forward to grab his shaking desk in surprise to see glowing red eyes and the scream of “Catch ‘em!” 

Then it all stopped, and he shoved back from his desk, pressing his heels to his eyes thinking he was seeing things. “What the fuck, what the fuck.” when he lifted his head, his breathing shaky to look at his desk, it was all normal. His papers were still exactly where he had set them before, his laptop in sleep mode ready to be used, pens all neatly lined up how he liked, and his family looking at him with wide happy smiles and laughs at the beach, the glass shining slightly in the light. 

“Jesus Christ Andy, get it together.” he shivered, cold once more and started coughing again. The door at the top of the stairs opened and your soft footsteps brought you down, Andy glanced up to see you carrying a steaming mug with the string of a tea bag wrapped around the handle and a paper bag that he assumed must have been the med’s he asked for. You reached the bottom and started approaching him, seeing his flushed face, the way he was heavy breathing with the rise of his chest, and you frowned while sitting the mug in front of him. 

“Baby, you don't look so good.” Your hand brushed against the side of his face, and it felt ice cold to him. Jerking out of your touch a bit, he wrapped his hands around the mug and sipped from it, scowling at the taste. 

“Don't talk to me like one of the kids Y/N.” he bit out of nowhere and he could see your face flash in a bit of hurt. “Sorry- sorry… I don't know what's wrong. Just a head cold is all. Are those the med’s?” 

“I got you a bit of everything.” your voice was colder towards him now, turned off from his offhand comment, and you set those down to, Andy knew he had to make it up to you, that was twice in the same morning he had been short, completely out of character for him. His hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you into his lap, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. 

“I’m sorry I have been an ass this morning.” He said, hoping you would ease up a bit. Which you did, he felt you relax on his thigh and your hand lifted to brush through his hair, tilting your head. 

“I know you're not feeling good. Come up soon and lay back down though? I am worried about you.” you confess, and he nods. “I gotta go back up and check on Cassidy.” 

You leave him at his work, and going up the stairs, you leave the door open to let the kitchen's sunshine at least shine down the dark stairs. Maybe it will remind Andy to come back up you think to yourself as you leave the kitchen. 

As soon as you do, the door eases shut, closing him back down in the dark belly of the house. Up the stairs, you walk the long hallway towards Cassidy’s room, gazing along the walls, imagining the photos you wanted to hang along the way when you heard Cassidy’s soft voice seemingly talking to someone. 

“No Jody, I cant. Mommy wouldn't like that, and neither would Andy.” You tilt your head curiously hearing this now, recalling her mentioning someone by that name a few times now since moving in. 

“Well, okay Jody, that doesn't sound too bad. And it is really cool. He took me out on it a few times. Even let me drive it once.” 

You eased her door open to see her standing in the middle of her room, and she jumped when she saw you. 

“Oh mommy! You scared me.” She giggled, and you poked your head around the door to see what she was talking to. Nothing, there was nothing there. 

“Who are you talking to, Babygirl?” You ask, and Cassidy looks once more where she had been talking before answering. 

“Jody, but they are gone now.” she hummed and turned towards her box of toys to dig through it. You come into the room and go to sit on the edge of her bed, watching as she pulled out a few of her dolls and brought out her tea set. 

You wiggle your nose a bit, knowing imaginary friends were not uncommon. You pull up to a stand as she is setting up her dolls around a small table. “Do you want me to have tea with you?” 

“No Mommy, I wanna just play by myself.” She said happily and you lean down to kiss the top of her head. Walking out, Cassidy followed behind you, peeking out to see you heading off to go back down the stairs. 

“Okay Jody, she's gone. You still wanna go down to see the boat?” Cassidy looked over her shoulder to see the closet door easing open on its own. Cassidy giggled, and raced out of her bedroom, one goal in mind. Going to the boathouse. 

You're in the kitchen, unpacking the last few boxes when you hear Cassidy’s feet thumping down the stairs. Luckily Andy is still down in the basement and hopefully can't hear the thumps that seemed to bother him. You were surprised in finding the door, but figured he must have had to shut it if he was talking to a client. Opening it back up to hear Andy was still downstairs, typing away on his laptop now with the clicking noise that worked its way up the stairs. Humming you lift another box on the table and start to unpack the contents. Turning your back from the fridge, you hop up to sit on the edge of the counter so you could fit the dishes together and put them on the upper shelf you couldn't reach. Unnoticed by you, the alphabet letters on the fridge start shifting around, letters coming together to fit together in a couple words. 

When you finish, you hop off the counter and turn back to catch sight of the refrigerator door, your eyes widening at the horrible words spelled on the door. 

Katch ‘em Kill ‘em 

You gasp in shock at them, wondering who would have possibly written that. Thumps on the stairs distracted you half a second and Andy appeared with his mug for a refill. “Andy, did you write that on the fridge?” you say in a slightly accusing voice, and he frowns while glancing at you as he heads to put the kettle on the stove. 

“What are you talking about Y/N?” 

“The magnets on the fridge.” You answer and you both turn to the fridge door to see the letters scattered all over the place, not spelling anything. You scowl in frustration, because you know what you saw and Andy gives you a strange look. 

“What words?” he asks while he's at the sink, filling up the kettle with water and you just shake your head. 

“Nothing, I thought I saw something, but I didn't.” you brush it off, now unsure of what you saw. While you're unwrapping more dishes, you suddenly hear Andy utter. “Oh shit, Cassidy!” and the tin sound of the kettle crashing in the sink while Andy is sprinting to the back door and outside. You drop what you're doing and follow him out, right on his heels as he's running down the wooden deck steps and headed straight for the boat house. “ANDY?” You shout from behind him as he's running full out across the deck. “What's wrong?!” your panicked, unsure what is going on while Andy is trying to wrench the door open. 

“Cassidy, I saw her go in here.” He rushed out as he wrenched on the handle, trying to get it to unclasp. You start pounding on the door now in a frantic way, Cassidy couldn't swim, and the boat house was stretched over the lake, should she slip in, there was a good chance she would drown. Your fear builds as Andy continues trying to get the door open. “What the fuck. CASS! OPEN THE DOOR.” he yells while trying to push it open.

“Oh god Andy, get it open, get it open.” tears start to well up in your eyes as you picture your daughter slipping under the water out of sight. 

Andy growls out and pushes you aside to slam against the door, hoping to wrench it open. “I'm trying Y/N, get out of the way.” 

Your just about to jump in to swim around to the other side of the boat house when the door sprang open and you both race in, looking around the dim interior to see Cassidy standing on the nose of the motor boat just staring out over the lake, you gasp in surprise seeing her like that as Andy made his way carefully along the edge of the deck not to startle her. 

“Cass, Babygirl, look at me.” Andy says softly as he makes his way towards her. Your right behind him. 

“Cassidy, look at Andy.” you whimper out, watching as she gets closer to the edge of the boat, and her gaze was so far away out over the lake, like she never noticed you or Andy trying to get to her.

“Cass!” He says more urgently, and she jumps to look at him, slipping a bit as the boat rocks from her movements. “Take my hand baby.” He stretches his hand out and she shakes her head a bit. 

“I can’t, I gotta go.” Cass say’s with certainty, tilting her head like she was listening to someone else. “Jody want’s to take me to play.” 

“Take his hand Cass!” your panic rushing your voice and Andy stretches out further over the water, his voice turning hard and authoritative. 

“Cassidy I’m not asking again. Take my hand.” When Cassidy heard him this time, she snapped her head to look at him and her eyes grew wide with surprise. She stretched for his hand, her fingers trying to reach for his. Andy is quick to snatch her and pull her off the boat to safety, falling back against the wall from the momentum. You gather your daughter in your arms, giving a sob. 

“Cassidy what were you doing, you could have drowned.” 

Now the girl is caught up in Andy's and yours fear, giving her own sob as tears burst from her eyes while you and Andy rush out of the boat house with her strongly clutched in your arms, stopping just outside as she wails out. “Jody wanted to see the boat Mommy! Jody wanted me to go with them.” 

“Cass, there is no Jody!” your nerves shook so you shout at her in anger and fear, and Andy reaches to take Cassidy from your arms. 

“She's scared Y/N and didn't know any better, yelling isn't going to help.” He turns the little girl in his arms as she sobs into his shoulder, his hand smoothing along her back to calm her down. “Hey Kiddo, it's going to be okay.” He tried calming Cassidy who’s sobs wracked her body in Andy’s arms, and you walked away a bit to take a shuddering inhale. You know he's right, you're just upsetting her more, but your fear outweighed that right now. 

“Just lock that damn door Andy, so this doesn't happen again.” you look back at the door and he nods. 

“I will go pick up a lock at the hardware store, I promise.” He assured you and you nodded, wiping away your tears. Now your daughters crying in Andy’s shoulder upset you, made you feel guilty for yelling at her. You move to press your hand against her back and say her name. She tilts her head to look at you through teary eyes and you try giving her a shaky smile. 

“I’m sorry baby, I didn't mean to yell. You just really scared me and Andy.” 

She gave a sniffle and Andy eased her back so she could wipe her face dry and look at both of them. 

“I’m-i’m sorry. Next time I will ask.” She said, and you nodded. Andy shifted her once more to rest on his hip. 

“Cassidy, the boathouse is dangerous and you know off limits to you and John. If Jody tells you to do something you're not supposed to, what do you tell Jody?” he asked and the little girl lifted her arm to wipe her face again, hiccuping as she tried to catch her breath. 

“I tell Jody no Andy.” she said, his hand still rubbing against her back. 

“That's right, if you're not sure if you're allowed, you come ask Mommy, Me, or Jacob if it's okay.” he smiled at her to reassure her that it was all okay.

She gave a nod and he held up a pinkie finger, which she hooked her finger around and Andy kissed her forehead. “Pinky promise I swear Andy.” 

“Can't break a pinky promise. You know… I think I have some cookies up at the house.” He said, his hand coming up to brush the last tears away with his thumb on her cheeks. “You wanna get a snack before I have to go back to work?” 

Cassidy seemed to consider it. “Oreos?” 

“Of course they are oreos!” Andy winked as you all headed back up to the house. “Best cookie there is, right?” 

Cassidy gave a firm nod, and you let out a relieved breath. Crisis averted. 

Later that afternoon, Andy came back out of the basement just as you were finishing the kitchen, Cassidy coloring at the table while he grabbed his keys. 

“I will go pick up Jacob and stop at the hardware store.” He pecked a kiss on your cheek, and you looked at him. 

“You sure you're feeling up for it?” 

Andy nodded and flashed a smile. “I feel much better Love, those meds kicked in and some fresh air will do me good.” 

You happen to agree since he's been in that basement most of the day, and you wave a goodbye, deciding you should probably figure out what's gonna be for dinner later in the day. “How about tacos tonight Cass?” 

She cheers and  you double check to make sure there was enough ingredients, which there was. No need to send Andy a text to pick up anything. “Come on kiddo, lets go pick John up from the bus stop.” you snap the door shut, bluntly ignoring the letters scattered over the fridge. 

Heading down the driveway, the house groaned, all alone once again. There was a shattering through the kitchen, your finest dishes being flung from the cupboard and against the wall, fine china dust settling in the air as the scattered pieces spread across the linoleum for you to find later. The basement door wrenched open and the yawning darkness going down the stairs turned darker, more ominous. 

When you came back, you stared in shock, stopping both John and Cassidy from going in to save them from stepping on shattered broken shards. “How about you two go on up to your rooms to play while I clean this up?” 

Both children went upstairs, and you grabbed a broom to start sweeping, as you passed the basement door, you slammed it shut in frustration and anger. 

Night fell and you got the kids settled in. Settling in bed yourself to lean against the headboard, massaging your temples while Andy was in the bathroom getting ready for bed.

You were beat after having to help John with his homework and Cassidy suddenly changed her mind and just hated tacos. Andy seemed to be feeling better, helping where he could. Offering to take over the dishes when John called you back to the kitchen table, and afterwards he hugged you from behind, kissing your neck while whispering in your ear that he couldn't wait to put a baby in you before he went back down to the basement to finish up with a few things.  

Thinking back on his idea made you warm up and when Andy came back in the bedroom and stretched out next to you, you looked at him, biting your lip while looking at him.

“You really wanna tonight?” you asked hopeful, since moving your and Andy’s sexual escapades had diminished a bit and you put it all to the stress of moving a whole family to a new house.

“Make you a baby momma? Of course, come on over Pretty Girl.” He reached up to click off the lights and bathe the room in the moonlight when you gently eased into his lap, the two of you starting with gentle affectionate kisses before they turned deeper and needier. Andy's hands slid up and down your back through your tank top, and you would sigh against his lips at how good it felt. Andy chained kisses from your mouth to your jaw and you tilted your head back to let him chain those kisses of his down your neck. He pulled you in closer to feel more of you when his glance lifted to look in the mirror just behind you at the end of the bed. 

At first Andy had no idea what he was actually looking at, a grotesque face appeared above him in the mirror, like it was balancing on the headboard behind him. Crouching in place, its clawed hands dug into the wood, its muscled body flexing as it swayed slightly on the head board. Up to its face, a forked tongue slithered out and red eyes glared at him in the mirror. How could something from a nightmare be here right now? He wasn't asleep, he was just about to make love to his wife. His head jerked back in shock, banging against the headboard with a loud crack as he looked up to see nothing above him. “Fuck!” 

You yanked up in surprise, running your hands down his chest. “Handsome, what's wrong?” your head tilted and you looked where he was staring, feeling his heart starting to race under your hands. 

“You didn't see that?” He grasped your hips, making you go still as you frowned. 

“See what Andy?” his gaze fell back to ours and then back up. 

“There was something there, fuck I saw it in the mirror. I don’t even know what it was. It looked like a- ” He grasped your hips and sat up to look around, your hands grabbing onto the front of his tee shirt in surprise. Looking back to the mirror and then to Andy who was still trying to figure it out. 

“Like what Andy?” You are studying him trying to figure out what he was talking about. 

“Fuck it I know Y/N.” His hold tightened on you a moment, like whatever was going to rip you away while he still looked around the room. 

“Hey hey, Andy.” you cup his face and make him look at you, kissing his forehead and down till you leaned your forehead against his. “It's okay, there is nothing there, I promise.” Your lips brushed against his. His breathing slowly started to settle back down, and your hands rubbed against his shoulders and the back of his neck as he started to sink back against the pillows, rubbing at his face. 

“It was so real though Y/N. These past few weeks, I feel like I'm losing my mind.” 

You tilt your head and brace your hands against his chest. “Stress Andy, we’ve had a lot going on. It will get better, I promise.” 

His blue eyes shined up at yours and softened seeing you looking down at him, his hands going back to tracing your thighs clasped at his sides. “You know I love you right Pretty Girl?” 

You nodded and he twisted you two around till you were underneath him, and tilted your head up to kiss you deeply. “I think I was just about to put a baby in you.” 

You giggled against his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck and whispering. “Yes you were Andy.”

[headoverhiddles]

Wrapped In Plastic - Marilyn Manson x Reader [Smut]

Synopsis: The new kid at school intrigues you. He’s infatuated too, but beneath that scary exterior, you’ve got no idea what’s in store. 

Notes: Era: Spooky Kids! Requested by anon: “High school Brian having a crush on you.”

There he is, sitting in front of the principal again. Brian Warner. You're surprised he hasn't been expelled yet, frankly, even though he just moved here to South Florida recently.

You watch from afar, sitting with your friends. He's making that face. That expression... or lack of expression. He doesn't give a fuck what he got in trouble for, and you, he and the principal know it.

"Hey. (y/n)," your best friend says, "What the hell? Are you listening?"

"Yeah," you mutter, glancing back into the office. God, he would probably fuck like an animal, taking you in some old haunted forest somewhere while spanking you and telling you you're his dirty little slut...

Your friend scoffs when she sees where you're looking.

"That guy is dangerous, quit fantasizing. That isn’t your picture perfect bad boy-- that’s like dating the next Son of Sam killer.”

Your other friend chimes in. “My sister told me she saw him and his pack of weirdos out lighting an abandoned house on fire. My sister’s friend said she hears him jerking off in the washroom every lunch hour. The whole school knows about it. Also apparently in creative writing, he turned in this story about this guy fucking his sister's corpse or something. Seriously weird, probably evil. He's gonna end up in jail, mark my words." You ignore your friend, but turn back into the conversation.

Eventually, the principal gives up, dismissing him. You see Brian join his friends outside the office door, who have been waiting-- Jeordie and Stephen, you think you've heard them called in class. The one with the brown comb-over is called Pogo outside of class, because of his fascination with serial killers. You think it's funny. Those guys just do whatever they want. 

Your breath hitches. Brian tucks his long black hair behind his ear, looking up and grinning at his friends. He's describing what he did, and he looks like a gleeful child who just got away with murder as the other two bust out laughing and dig for details. How could anyone think he's evil? 

Cold chills run through your body as he meets your eyes. Oh, fuck. He smirks a little bit your way, but you quickly look away. His features harden, and he turns back to his friends. You turn back to yours.

You can't help watching after him as he walks down the hall to fourth period, though... his head nearly reaches the ceiling, and that metal Planet Of The Apes lunchbox makes you smile. You've heard him make a threat or two to beat someone's ass with it, and you believe he'd do it. For every bully who promised him he'd be nothing, there's something about him that promised so much more.

--

The bell goes, and Brian sits down at the desk. 

"She was looking at you." 

"Yeah, she was talking to her friends about me," Brian mutters back.

"She looked like she was wetting her panties over you," Jeordie grins, "She looks like she wanted to suck your dick right there in front of Mr. Ogilvie!"

"That'd be the day," Brian sighs. 

"Yeah, you'd have beat off material forever," Pogo laughs.

"But she wasn't," he said, "You guys are just fucking blind."

"I don't know, I got some blow job vibes from her,” Pogo says. 

“You get blow job vibes from everyone.” 

“I’ll blow you for lunch money,” Jeordie mentions. Pogo shrugs. 

“I might take you up on that.” His obnoxious laughter rings out as you walk by the door. You recognize it immediately, and look back. Brian’s sitting there, knees tucked under the desk like his legs won’t fit. Shit. In your experience, being this preoccupied with someone meant you were into them... or at least, wanted to see more of them. 

Brian looks up again, and sees you staring at him. This time, he frowns. You’re drawn away by your friend, who pulls you toward your next class. As you're walking, someone calls your name.

“Hey! (y/n), right?” 

You turn as your friend keeps walking ahead. You scoff slightly as he approaches. “Like you don’t know my name.” You pause, backtrack. “I- sorry. That was mean."

“That’s okay. I’ve been known to be a little mean too,” he smirks, and he flips his hair out if his face. “I guess when you hang around a bunch of catty bitches all the time, it rubs off on you.” His voice is so deep and calm. It throws you off whenever he speaks, but does other things to you as well.

"Hanging out with a pair of delinquents can do the same." Your eyes dart inside the classroom to his friends, who are carving something into a desk. He gives a small smile.

"Touché."

“Speaking of rubbing off,” you raise an eyebrow, “Did you want to talk to me?”

He blushes, then forces his embarrassment away. “That rumor’s not true.”

“No?”

“Nah. I did light that abandoned house on fire though.” He grins, and you do as well, hugging your books closer to your chest. 

“So. You’re a rebel, huh?”

“If not putting up with everybody’s bullshit counts as rebelling, then yeah. I guess so.”

“I can respect that,” you nod. “I feel the same way... but I’m not as fearless as you.”

“Are you saying you might commit arson with me, (y/n)?” 

“Maybe. How did the conversation progress to lighting things on fire with you?” 

He laughs, ducks his head nervously. “Well. Um, I saw you staring like a creep, and... I was wondering if you wanted to be creeps together. Y’know... hang out sometime? Come see my band, or...?”

“Are you asking me out?”

“Yeah, I am.”

You smile, poking his black shirt that read Christianity is Unnatural, Abnormal, and Perverse. “You’ve got balls, Brian.” You look at the clock, and back to his class. “What do you say we fuck off for the rest of the day?”

His eyebrows shoot up. “You wanna skip class today?”

“Sorry,” you walk your fingers up his chest. “I know I’m not quite at your level of rebellion yet, but it’s a start.” 

He laughs as he follows you to your locker. 

---

“So. Do you have a car?”

“No.” He scratches his head. “We can walk back to my house, though. My parents aren’t home.” 

Following that plan, you make it back to his house. For someone hailed as the Antichrist of the school, he's got a relatively normal looking home, white picket fence and everything. All that changes once you get to his room.

"Wow," you say, looking up at everything. He's got serial killer-like writing scrawled on the wall by his bed, lyrics that seem like they're straight out of a porno or a horror film, or both. There are pentagrams drawn on his bed posts, and posters of bands like Nine Inch Nails, Ozzy Osbourne, KISS on his walls.

"I know it's stupid, but I'd give anything to meet those guys," he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck.

"It's not stupid," you say, examining the edges of the posters, freyed from the move no doubt. "I actually think it's awesome. I love Ozzy."

"One day I'm gonna beat his record for most drugs consumed over a lifetime."

"Have you started practicing?" you tease.

"I... well, I haven't had the chance."

"Right. Let me know when you do." You smile, going over to sit on his bed. He looks down at you, seems to have a mini panic attack, then acts cool with it, playing with his lip ring and sitting beside you. You look around the messy floor. He's got a strange mix of stuff that oddly seems to perfectly fit his personality: leaking boxes of black hair dye, various lipsticks and nail polishes, a bag of weed, books on the rise of fascism and Carl Jung's red book, an antique-looking switchblade, a Willy Wonka hat, condoms with little angry faces drawn on them, an old deflated football with "FIGHT" written on it, and... "What's that?" you ask, leaning down. Brian coughs.

"Oh. Yearbook from last year."

You pick it up, looking at all the little drawings of candy, needles, Charles Manson and other doodles he's defaced the book with. "But you didn't go to this school last year."

"I traded my mom's diet pills for it."

"Huh. Hustling already. Must have been some good stuff." You hesitate. The page was open to the photos of you as the lead in the play last year. You smirk, pretending to squint. "Is that a cum stain I see on my face?"

"You wish," he huffs, but he's blushing, hair curtaining around his face. You give him a look, turning fully toward him.

"Why'd you really invite me over?"

"To tell you I hate you, knock you out, and bury you in my backyard." You laugh.

"I mean, if you think about it..."

"It's the perfect plan. Invite the girl you've got a crush on over, assume she's gonna make fun of you, lure her in, then get your revenge." You smile, laying back on his bed.

"You just admitted to having a crush on me."

"Wasn't it obvious?" he asks. "I only ever threaten to kill the people I really wanna fuck."

"And do you really wanna fuck me, Bri?" you ask coyly, crawling dangerously close to him. He swallows, Adam's apple bobbing in his long, graceful throat. "You wanna fuck me right here, right now, while your parents aren't home, make me scream your name while you blare your favorite metal record and act like things'll never change?"

"That sounds good," he groans. His hands wander up your thigh, and you smile, bouncing on his leg. "...I also wanna share my music with you. Read a book over your shoulder. Maybe pop a few pills, key someone's car, grab a milkshake and look at the stars on Special K so we feel like we're floating, you know. Before I bang the shit out of you. Date stuff."

"Is this not our first date?" you ask. His tongue flicks up over his lip ring again. 

"I guess you could say it is."

"Good. Cause I never fuck on a first date," you say, "Or so I tell people." He clenches his jaw, and braces a skinny arm beside your head, leaning down to capture your lips. His lips taste sweet, like mint and those sugary rocket candies. He takes his shirt off, and you rub your hands down, feeling a few scars. He lets out a whimpered noise at your touch, shuddering a little. 

You make out and grind against one another for a few minutes, your hands pulling his hips closer by his black belt loops and his fingers tangling your hair. Your breath gets faster as he grinds harder, more desperately, and you reach a hand down to help him out, give him something to rut against.

"You feel so big," you moan, and he runs a hand through his hair, lips falling open.

"I'm gonna..." He makes another desperate noise, and you feel it right where you need him. But since all his condoms in here seem to be used or have faces drawn on them in scented marker, you opt for over the clothes stuff only.

"Use your fingers?" you breathe. He looks like he's about to cum, and you know it'll tip you over as well, what with all the times you had thought of him like this.

He reaches into your jeans, unzipping them, and messily finds your clit. For a teenage guy, he's not bad. He starts to rub, then reaches three fingers down to thrust them into you.

"Fuck, Bri! Three?!" you breathe. He looks into your eyes, not stopping.

"I thought girls were whores for that kind of thing!"

"It's..." you moan, "That's... oh... y-yeah... Jesus...” He really start to work them in, watching your reactions while rutting his clothed erection against your leg. "Fuck, Brian, grab my tits... yeah... this is just how I imagined it when I..."

He freezes for a second, and his whole body convulses. He gasps, and you see him reach down to cover his crotch, face going beet red. He doesn't stop, though. He keeps fingering you, and now that he's not worried about grinding, he can explore you in other ways. He attaches his lips to your neck, and sucks a hickie right below your ear. 

“Brian... Bri, make me c--” 

"Cum for me, you filthy little slut," he snarls, and you arch your back up, grinding down into his fingers as your orgasm hits. You rock through it, and he kisses you again, sloppy and hot. When he pulls away, he gives you your fingers to lick clean, which you do through a heated stare.

Things calm down into you laying back against his pillows with his stringy body tucked in a cramped position beside you. "I didn't know you were that..." you search for words. "Experienced?" 

"What, you thought I was a virgin?” 

You giggle. “I didn’t know what to think about you, to be honest. Kinky, inexperienced, I had no idea. Of course, I hoped that you were kinky.”

“I’ve been known to use restraints when asked,” he smirks.

“I’ve got that to look forward to. I thought you were cute too, though. I don’t care if you’re some devil worshipper who parents and teachers everywhere shiver at the thought of." He's quiet for a second.

"I thought you were scared of me." 

"That too, a little bit. But what scares me turns me on." He rolls over to face you, a vulnerable position for him, you can tell. 

"The way I dress is what I perceive to be beautiful. Looking like this, doing what I want to, it keeps the assholes who like to give my face their own version of plastic surgery away if they think I'm a Satanist who's gonna... cut off their mom's head or something if they fuck with me. Makes the hypocrites who call themselves teachers question their morals too, ‘teaching’ someone like me to be a good little boy and follow society’s rules. It’s all brainwashing, everything they feed us with their sugar and shit, and I’m the bad guy for standing up to it." 

You stroke hair out of his face, and he looks up at you, lips pursed. "There’s always gotta be a scapegoat. I guess you fit that role.” You look beyond him. “You think it would ruin your image if those bullies found your poetry books?” He smiles. 

“Nah. One day, I’m gonna grow up to be a big rock and roll star. I’ll use my own poetry and turn it into music, and I’ll look ten times more extreme than I do now. Then they can all say they knew me, and I’ll tell them to go to hell.” 

You snuggle into him. "Mmm. Speaking of extreme... we should pull a Sandy and Danny. I'll come to school dressed all goth and shit Monday. Throw my friends for a loop."

"Does that mean I have to dress like a cheerleader?" he asks.

"You've got the ass for it."

He grins. "Stop it, you're making it very hard for me not to wanna fuck you for real right now."

"Here's the deal," you say, "I'll show you where I live this weekend. You tell me what your favorite fruit is, because that's a soul searching question. At that point we'll know each other better... and I'll be fair game."

He bites his lip. "I feel like I've known you forever."

"Yeah. Me too."

Just then, there's a knock at the bedroom door. Startled, you sit up quickly, and who you can only assume to be Brian's mom pops her head in. "When the fuck did you two get home?!" Brian blurts.

"About five minutes ago, honey. Don't worry, we didn't hear anything. Jeordie called, said he 'left the smoke bomb under the urinals.' I hope you aren't getting up to trouble like the last school, your father had a heck of a time getting you into this one.”

“Mom.”

“He had to switch jobs too, and with his back, you know how difficult long drives can be. Oh, how rude of me-- hello sweetie, you can call me Barb."

"Mom--" 

"Brian, is this the sweet thing you had that dream about the other night?"

"MOM!"

“Hugh, Brian’s got a girlfriend over, we should turn the TV up to give them a little privacy.” 

“GIRLFRIEND?!” a voice calls up, “GOOD ON YA, SON. THAT’S MY BOY!” 

“Jesus fucking Christ...” Brian groans, burying his face in a pillow. You laugh so hard into his chest you nearly tumble off his bed. Most dangerous guy in school, your ass.

[wherevermyway]

the spectator (2/2) // minchan & binchan // horror // 16+

two: i was never here at all series navigation: [desktop] [mobile]

⚠ POTENTIAL TW: READ WITH CAUTION! ⚠ pairing: bang chan x lee minho | bang chan x seo changbin rating: mature! 16+ warnings/tags: major character death, possession, obsession, horror, descent into madness, mild acts of violence.  word count: 1,318 also on AO3

originally posted: 18 february 2021

Changbin is concerned about Chan’s new obsession.

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction! any reference to persons in this work of fiction are purely coincidental. the characters referenced from Stray Kids are  interpretations loosely based on their personalities in the group and do  not represent the real people behind the personas. if this, or any of  the content included in the warnings above make you uncomfortable,  please stop reading now.

“We need to leave this house,” he begged and pleaded with Chan during one of the good days. “This place is fucking haunted, I can’t do it anymore.”

“Val bwae nal jikgwa lma?”

Changbin’s eyes went wide as he momentarily forgot how to breathe. “What did you just say?” His ears had to be deceiving him, but—

“Klae ben qwael mi.”

Chan looked so… unaffected as he spoke in a foreign tongue. It wasn’t English, Korean, or even the French that Chan promised he’d keep speaking after university. There was something so off-putting about it, like his database of language had been swapped as if it was a cassette tape.

“Dude, Changbin, you’re gawking again.”

And then he was back.

“Are you okay?” Changbin pressed, feeling his face going cold. He didn’t want to alarm Chan when he seemed so fragile.

“I’m fine, man,” Chan grabbed Changbin’s hands, pressing a quick kiss to the backs of his hands before he froze.

It was minute, but it was there.

Chan is mine.

The whisper on the air was nearly impossible to catch.

“I’m fine, man,” Chan reiterated, smiling as he went back to his book. “Weren’t you saying something about fixing the stove?”

Changbin knew better than to bring up leaving. “Yeah,” he turned to his cup of lukewarm coffee, no longer able to stomach the thought of drinking another sip.

Things got worse after Chan opened the box of photos.

“I love you, Minho. You’re so perfect.”

Chan refused to leave the spare room, the room filled with all of Minho’s possessions. He would sprawl himself out on the floor, staring up at the ceiling with an empty gaze. Occasionally, Changbin would hear him speak in the foreign language. There would be laughter.

Chan would be laughing, and Changbin would be curled up in his bed across the hall, covering his face with Chan’s pillow as he cried himself to sleep. It was impossible: he wasn’t able to get Chan to come back, stuck in this peculiar trance that possessed him. Chan was turning increasingly violent and unpredictable as time went on, slapping or shoving Changbin every time he questioned anything about Minho or his belongings.

One day, when he was seemingly normal, when they were about to make their way downstairs for breakfast, Chan started wildly cackling to himself, which caused Changbin to turn around. “Are you alright?”

“Optal vren kal.”

“Chan,” Changbin sighed, shutting his eyes for a moment in exhaustion before hands were on his shoulders, lightly pushing at him.

Changbin collided against the staircase, sliding down the carpet that ran down the middle of it. He landed at the foot of the stairs, seemingly unscathed, but looked up in terror at the man that he loved.

Chan stared down at him, his irises gone for a moment and a playful grin on his face. A soft laugh came up from his chest before he came back. When Chan returned, he panicked for the briefest of moments before it was like his memory was wiped halfway down the staircase.

He was slipping away, becoming less and less Chan-like the further time went on.

One night, Changbin woke up to the sound of laughter from the room across the hallway, and he decided that enough was enough. Still sore from being shoved down the staircase, and tired of fearing the man he loved, he got out of bed. He had no idea how he could combat a ghost, but he decided he would try to get Chan away from the house, no matter what the cost was.

He wanted Chan back, but a rush of guilt overtook him as he briefly considered just leaving him here.

Still, he stood at the doorway of the room staring at the shell that resembled Chan.

“Chan,” he sighed, “please get up. Come back to me.”

The older man rolled his head, gaze empty as he stared. “Xep kal mwe.”

Changbin took in a deep breath, then walked into the room, desperately reaching out towards Chan.

Crossing the threshold was a mistake.

“Get out of my house!” Minho threw books at Changbin, trying to get him to leave, but the man stood firm, tears streaming down his face as he shook his head.

“Give me Chan, and I’ll leave.”

“You can’t have him,” Minho taunted, getting into Changbin’s face. “I’ll make sure you never have him again.”

Chan’s gaze was empty, his pupils and irises gone again as Minho wrapped around him, dangling from his neck, whispering things into his ear.

Changbin stepped back once, until he was in the middle of the doorway. He stared at Chan, his body shaking and trembling from fear and how cold it was in the house. The lights flickered, a few bulbs popping and cracking, the frail, fragile glass collapsing to the ground.

“Leave.”

“Intruder.”

“Get out of this house.”

The hissing of the voices came back, so loud in Changbin’s ears. He wanted to run up to Chan, to grab him and drag him out of the house, but—

It felt like hands grabbed at him, yanking him back to the wall across the door.

He was frozen in place.

“Chan!” Changbin shouted at the top of his lungs as cold hands wrapped around him, pulling at his throat, tangling fingers in his hair.

Minho grinned from ear to ear as he stared at Changbin. He slowly made his way to the frozen man, bringing his cold lips to Changbin's ear. “You had your chance to leave. But Chan is mine forever, now. You’ve made your bed, now lay in it.”

Changbin trembled, trying to force himself free of the grasp that locked him in place. “Please, don’t do this. Please, I love Chan, let him go and you can do whatever you want with me, just let—”

Minho’s eyes glimmered with a red sheen for the briefest of moments as he forced Chan to look at Changbin again.

“Changbin,” his voice was so familiar, yet foreign and far away.

Distant.

“I love Minho. Minho is perfect.”

It was the last thing he said before Minho reached his hands through Chan’s chest.

Chan’s irises came back, his pupils flickering around for a brief moment as he shouted in agony, blood sputtering up from his lungs, blood spilling from his eyes.

“Changbin, please!” He cried out, then fell forward, blood pooling out on the floor, rapidly spilling into the cracks of the wooden floor, into and around the strands of his hair.

The door slammed shut, and Changbin sank into the floor, relinquished from the grasp of the supernatural. His tears fell from his face as he shook, pulling himself across the floorboards. With great effort, he reached up to the door handle, afraid of what he would see if he opened the door.

But he had to.

“Chan,” he whispered, tears slipping into the cracks of his lips as he spoke.

He turned the door handle.

He was prepared to see blood.

He was expecting to see Chan, sprawled out and dead on the floor.

Instead, there was nothing but the boxes stacked up in the corner of the room, up against the window. There were cobwebs hanging from the ceiling, the dust-covered silk delicately dancing in the rays of light that streamed in from the window.

“Changbin,” a familiar voice came from behind him, “dude, get off the floor. This place is haunted, let’s get out of here. Didn’t you hear the realtor? It’s not worth it, even if it’s this cheap.”

There was something about the boxes, though. There was a man that sat atop them, encased in a halo of light, his feet dangling as he softly grinned. He was ethereal, somewhat translucent.

“Hello, Changbin,” he taunted, reaching a hand out towards him. “My name is Chan. Remember me? Remember how much you love me? Come set me free.”

[andotherbiases]

“into the fall” deleted scene, vers. 2

writing that thread yesterday reminded me that I had so many versions of the scene where MY goes to KT’s place. They all ended up being too angsty to make it into the final version of the story, but now that I used the snuggles & storytime version in “journal of a teenage year” I feel like I can share these other deleted scenes.

In this version, MY goes to KT’s place not because she’s realized her feelings for him, but because she’s upset. I’ll lead into the scene with text from the published version in italics, so you can see where it would have been situated in the original story. This particular version has parts from the other deleted scene (let’s call that one version 1), but with a different ending dialogue. I was sad to loose the intimacy of this scene, because it shows just how much deeper their connection is, but alas, I just wanted to write a light-hearted story so... 

Anyway, I’ll post another version in the coming days. I hope you enjoy!

Version 2: Angst city

Sometimes he stays the night. Sometimes not.

Sometimes they meet and don’t have sex. Sometimes an office visit really is just an office visit.

Moon-young doesn’t really know what the rules are here. She doesn’t understand what they’re doing. Kang-tae doesn’t mention it, never brings it up, and seems perfectly happy with whatever their arrangement is. But she’s confused and unsettled, unsure of what to do or say. Mostly because, surprisingly enough, a re-introduction to their physical intimacy has not produced the hell-mouth she thought it would.

There hasn’t been a single fight. She can’t remember the last time one of them snapped at the other. When it was that one of them stormed out of a room in anger.

When they’re together, in between all the hooking up, they snuggle and laugh and share thoughts and opinions and secrets. And it is nice. Nice that they could be like this again. Nice to lower walls. Nice to share in the intimacy that had always been present between them.

It feels so natural.

But it also feels so fragile, like a spring morning, and Moon-young doesn’t want to ruin it, doesn’t want to destroy this good and beautiful thing by bringing up questions and whatever harsh reality exists for them.

If it can’t be forever, she’ll take it for right now.

And she’ll worry about the fall later.

It happens unexpectedly.

Moon-young is having a terrible day. Any contact with her estranged mother sours her mood completely, ruins any plans that she might have had. A single phone call and a shadow will loom over her for the rest of the day, dark and storming and brewing. It makes her want to lash out at the world, makes her want to be reckless, makes her want to do something big and dangerous -- something that she can throw all her energy, all her feelings, all her thoughts towards. Something to distract her. 

Something to ease her weary heart.  

She doesn’t know how she ended up at Kang-tae’s door, but he takes one look at her face and lets her in without a word. 

They’re sitting at the kitchen counter, cups of lukewarm tea before them. They’re just sitting, sometimes exchanging words but mostly just sitting in the moment, sharing the space together. Silence stretches on between them, but it isn’t empty nor is it burdensome. It occurs to Moon-young that he is the only person that she feels comfortable enough with to not have to say anything at all.  

Kang-tae is sitting by her side, nursing his mug and waiting to listen to anything that she might say. His usual suits and coiffed hair are replaced with casual t-shirts and a pair of thick glasses. On the table next to them are notes from some manuscript, the red scrawls from his pen bleed across the page.  

“I’m sorry for interrupting. You were working,” she says, only just piecing together that he might have been busy when she arrived at his door. 

He waves her off. “It’s not important.”

They lapse into silence once more. 

“Is this about your mom?” he asks, breaking into her thoughts. If the question had come from anyone but Kang-tae, she would have denied it. Would have stormed out of the room, having no desire to air out her family’s dirty laundry. But he wasn’t just anyone. He knew her whole history. This wasn’t the first time he’s seen her angry and upset and despondent. Moon-young meets his eyes and finds only sympathy, not pity. 

She nods. 

Kang-tae purses his lips, clearly displeased. “What did she say this time?”

“The usual,” she shrugs. “How I’m an ungrateful daughter. How I wouldn’t be where I am if it wasn’t for her. It’s always the same. Nothing I haven’t heard before.”

“I wish she would just leave you alone.”

“She had no problem doing it before,” Moon-young says bitterly. “Funny how becoming a best-selling author changes things.” 

Her mother had abandoned her just after her tenth birthday, leaving her under the care of her mostly absent father. Moon-young was raised by a series of live-in babysitters and tutors. She hadn’t heard a single word from her mother in over fifteen years. It wasn’t until her first book was published and her name was in the news that Moon-young first got a phone call from an unknown number. 

Moon-young’s long lost mother was suddenly interested in reconciling. Had seen the error of her ways. Had seen a photo of Moon-young in the local paper and wanted to get to know the woman she had become. 

But Moon-young wasn’t interested. Her success was hers alone. And if her mother didn’t care enough to go through the tough times with her, all the times when Moon-young had struggled to live as a writer and received rejection letter after rejection letter, then her mother certainly didn’t have a right to enjoy Moon-young’s success. 

Her mother, naturally, did not appreciate being so cut out, and ever so often Moon-young received a letter or call that full of vitriol from her own mother. 

In a way, she felt haunted.

Suddenly, Moon-young pushes away her tea. “I need something stronger,” she declares, already moving to stand and make good use of Kang-tae’s well-stocked dry bar.

Instead, he reaches over and takes her hand in his. His hold is so stable, so steadfast and sure. His thumbs rub circles on the back of her hand, and Moon-young finds herself sitting back down. 

“Let’s leave the alcohol for another time,” he suggests, his words calm and gentle. “How about we get you into bed, and I’ll read you a story.”

Somewhere in the middle of his tale, Moon-young starts to cry.  

Tears leak from her eyes, pouring out her sadness, and she can’t help it. Can’t stop the shaking of her chin or the sobs that crawl out of her mouth. 

And she hates it all, because her mother doesn’t deserve her sadness, her tears.

But Kang-tae is right there. 

He pulls her in tighter, brushes away her tears before they have a chance to fall. He whispers comforting words in her ear, reminds her of how brilliant she is, and how strong, and that she didn’t owe her mother anything, that Moon-young belonged to herself.

And he kisses her. 

Soft, lingering kisses on her cheeks, her eyelids. When Kang-tae kisses her lips, she can taste the saltiness of her tears. 

But also, a sweetness. A kindness.

She wants, so desperately, to capture that. To taste it on her tongue and devour it so that it becomes a part of her. To be so full of sweetness and kindness that there is no room for sadness. So that nothing bad can ever get in.

Moon-young wraps her arms around Kang-tae’s neck, bringing him in closer until the weight of his body presses down on her, and she slides her tongue past his lips. 

“Hey, hey,” he says, breaking off the kiss. “It’s okay. We don’t have to do anything tonight.”

He didn’t understand. She needed this. She shakes her head. “No, please,” Moon-young insists, arching up into him.

Kang-tae hisses at the contact. “I think,” he starts, his voice now shaky, “that we should just try and sleep. You’re upset and I--”

“Please, Kang-tae,” she reaches up to try and kiss him again. She needs this. Needs this oblivion. “Please, I--”

He tries to avoid her lips. “Moon-young…”

“Please just make love to me,” she blurts in desperation.

He freezes. Seconds roll by before he pulls back, hovering over her. “What?” 

And for some reason she’s crying again. “Please, please. Kang-tae. Please can you just--” and she doesn’t care that she’s begging. 

Kang-tae’s gaze is probing as he locks eyes with her. He’s hesitating, warring with himself, but slowly his eyes drop from hers to settle on her lips. He gives a small nod before he kisses her.

Afterwards she’s almost asleep when the fall happens. It is so quiet she nearly misses it. 

“I love you.”

Her eyes open, she’s fully awake now, but forces her body to remain still. She stays that way, until she recognizes Kang-tae’s deep breath of sleep.

Moon-young is fumbling around in the dark trying to gather her things. It is early still, dawn is just on the horizon, giving just enough light for her to slide out of Kang-tae’s bed and make a hasty exit. 

“Don’t forget your purse is in the kitchen,” comes a voice.

Surprised at being caught, Moon-young spins on her heel, and even in the darkness she can see Kang-tae’s eyes staring at her. He sits up and reaches for his pants, but seeing his bare chest for some reason seems too intimate and she avoids her gaze. 

He turns on a lamp, and the sudden brightness burns. 

“Leaving already?” he asks as he approaches her. There is almost something predatory in his gait, the firm set of his mouth. 

Moon-young only just resists the impulse to take a step back. “I didn’t want to wake you,” she tries to explain.

“Hm,” he considers her answer. “And this doesn’t have anything to do with last night?”

Her heart is slamming against her ribcage. Did he know? Something like panic races through her veins. 

Kang-tae continues. “The part where you heard me say that I love you.” He takes a breath. “I love you, Moon-young.” 

Moon-young has to step away then. It is too much. She feels like she can’t take in enough air, not enough to breath, not enough to process what is happening. Tears begin to prickat her eyes, and she doesn’t understand why. 

She pushes him away. “I have to go.”

He grabs her hand.

“Don’t go. Don’t run away. We’re good together, Moon-young. These last few weeks, we’ve been so good together.”

She snatches her hand back. 

“Don’t do this,” he tells her, trying to hold onto her. “Moon-young!”

“This was just supposed to be sex,” she cries. “You weren’t supposed to fall in love with me!”

“I’ve always been in love with you!” he responds.

“What?”

“I can’t help it,” he holds her by the shoulders, hoping against hope that she’ll stay. “I’ve always loved you.”

She feels the world tilt on its axis and it steals her breath. “I have to go.” 

And she runs, right out of his room, right out of his apartment, and down the block until he’s no longer calling her name, no longer trying to follow her.

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - Growing Old(er)

Alternate Title: Growing Older

Summary: Everyone has a sinking realization that life is temporary and that we’re all gonna die, and unfortunately sweet Mabel has her’s.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Come on, Stanley, be serious!”

“I am serious! Dipper can have my boxing gloves and Mabel can have my old collection of photos.”

“This is an important document that goes above and beyond a few keepsakes!” Ford tried to explain this, yet again, to his brother. “We need to discuss more important arrangements…”

“Look, Wise Guy, the Shack already belongs to Soos…”

“But what about the car? What about the Stan O’ War?”

“The boat’s gonna be burned down with us in it.” Stan held up his hands in front of him and moved them apart as he elaborated. “Picture this: two old sailors lying in their boat, their friends and family shooting flaming arrows at it across the sea as some farewell-bar song plays. We’d go down like kings!”

“Yeah, no.” Ford said firmly. “We’re not doing that.”

Mabel skipped into the living room and found her grunkles at the card table. They had a bunch of stupid-looking documents covering the table, but Ford seemed like the only one really interested in it, a pen in his hand and he was leaning forward to work while Stan was sipping a can of soda and sat back in the chair. “Whatcha doin’?” She asked.

“Constructing our will and testimony.”

“WHAT?!” Mabel shrieked and covered her mouth with her hands. Her uncles stared at their niece as her eyes filled with tears and she struggled to ask with a choked whisper, “Are… are you guys…”

“Oh no, pumpkin.” Stan scooped her up into his lap and hugged her. Mabel clung onto his undershirt tightly and bit her lip as she tried not to cry. “Sixer and I are fine, I promise. He just thought it’d be a bright idea to get this outta the way for when we do kick the bucket.”

Ford leaned forward and rubbed her back. “I’m sorry, my dear, I never meant to scare you like this. I swear, we’re both perfectly healthy and going to be around for awhile.”

Mabel wiped her tears away with the sleeve of her sweater and sniffed. “O-Okay. So… why are you making a will?”

“Well, unfortunately someone bypassed the downsides of faking your death and stealing another man’s name.” Ford said lightly as he gave Stan a crooked smile. His twin just stuck his tongue out at him. “So there are some things we need to discuss to simplify complicated actions and it would be a good idea to make certain arrangements.”

“Like what?”

“Well, since in a way we both share the name ‘Stanford Pines’, it would be wise to make such legal documents together. This will ensure that the right people receive the right gifts and inheritance, and that our bodies are properly taken care of in an orderly manner that best helps the living grieve and keeps the government off our backs.”

Mabel still didn’t like the sound of all of this. “But why do you guys need to talk about it? You said you’re fine.”

“We are, sweetie,” Stan said warmly and ruffled her hair. “But we’re not gonna be around forever. Eventually these old farts are gonna be sleeping with the fishes, and when that happens we just wanna make sure everything’s taken care of. At least that’s what Sixer wants. I don’t care what happens as long as my tombstone is bigger than his.”

“That is not going to happen.” Ford said firmly with a smile.

“Too bad, I called it.”

“Since when?!”

“Since the election last summer. The niblings can back me up, right Mabel?”

The brunette grinned and shrugged. “Sorry, but since you two aren’t fighting anymore it doesn’t count. Clean slate!”

“What?!” Stan gasped with a smile. “Betrayed by my own pumpkin! Fine! Someone’s not getting my old stop-motion movies!”

“Good!” Mabel laughed with her uncles for a little bit while Ford wrote some stuff down, still trying to complete the task. The teenage girl looked up at her hero and she remembered the reason why she came in here in the first place. “Hey, do you guys wanna go make some cupcakes with me? I’ve got extra sprinkles!”

“Sure,” Stan let Mabel slide off his lap and he stood, but his brother stopped him.

“Not so fast, Stan, we have to finish this at some point. Why don’t we make cupcakes after dinner?”

Mabel’s concerns were coming back. She looked at Ford carefully to try to pick up a lie. “I thought you said you two were okay.”

“We are, Mabel, I promise.” Ford even paused his work and crossed his heart for his niece, making her smile. “But no one lives forever. One day we won’t be here. It’s like Stanley said; we just want to make sure everything will be okay.”

“It’s the way it works.” Stan said with a shrug and plopped down in his chair. “We’re born, we live a little, and then we die. S’long as you don’t just survive but live too, it ain’t so bad.”

Mabel stared at her uncles. “Aren’t you scared?” Her voice was meek and lacked her usual confidence.

“Of death? Not really.” Ford admitted. “Death is nothing but the next great adventure. An unseen destiny awaiting all mortals at the end of their lifespans.”

“And hey, that doesn’t mean I’m ready to go just yet.” Stan added in. “I wanna see my kids graduate and get married and have their own little gremlins to terrorize them.”

“Oh, absolutely!” Ford quickly agreed with. “I didn’t mean we’re done with life, but the more familiar we become with death, the less frightening it is.”

“Besides, we’ve both faced the hooded dude so many times, leaving with him will be like seeing an old friend.” Stan barked a quick laugh and added, “Maybe I’ll grab drinks with him!”

Mabel giggled, but then slowly wandered onto a dark train of thought. The idea of death was not new to her; she and her brother had nearly died at the hands of an evil triangle (she still sometimes had nightmares about it). But even though she had come to terms with growing up, she hadn’t put two and two together and realized that growing up also means growing older and then dying. It was new territory Mabel had not yet ventured into, and suddenly she didn’t feel like making cupcakes anymore.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next day the subject was still on Mabel’s mind. One day, her favorite people in the whole world were going to die. Stan was going to die, Ford was going to die, Dipper was going to die. Then she would be all alone until she died. But then what? The end? Lights out? There were such things as ghosts, so maybe they could come back and haunt Gravity Falls as a family, but the ghosts didn’t seem quite like themselves on Earth; they were vengeful and angry and hurt. Mabel’s grunkles had enough of that in life, so maybe it was for the best that they don’t come back.

Mabel was so distracted that she tripped on a rock while walking in the woods and scraped her knee. She held it and winced with tears in her eyes, a little bit of blood trickling down from her small wound. “Ow, ow, ow! What the…”

She looked at the rock that had caused it and saw something odd by it. A necklace with a silver chain and a red ruby in a circle sparkled by the rock. Mabel picked it up and looked at it. Scratches of some kind were around the ruby and it sparkled and looked pretty. The ruby was a darker red than most normal rubies, but there was no denying the sparkling gem. “Wow, cool! I bet Grunkle Ford would love to look at this.” For safekeeping, Mabel put it around her neck and tucked it under her sweater as she stood.

She continued on her way to town and she smiled at the arcade. As she approached, she was oblivious to her changing body. She grew a few inches taller, now maybe slightly shorter than Wendy, and her hair was shorter, now only to her shoulders. A few zits littered her maturing skin and her curves were growing in. Mabel was so distracted by her thoughts and the need to think of something else that she didn’t even notice. Her clothes magically changed with her so she didn’t feel tight or uncomfortable.

Mabel entered the arcade and happily played that new battle video game she had her eye on. Shooting aliens made her feel a little bit better, but it also made her hungry. She left the arcade a little while later and talked to herself as she wandered around Gravity Falls for something to eat. “I mean, I get it. There’s nothing wrong with change. I know there’s nothing I can do about it, but I guess I never really thought about everything changing like that.”

As Mabel walked, her hair grew back to it’s normal length and her zits went away. Her vision was a little blurry, but Mabel just shrugged it off and dismissed it as a sign that she was tired. She did feel emotionally drained as she purchased a jelly-filled doughnut and munch on it, her mind now in a rut. She had no idea what to do or where to go to feel better, so maybe a walk in the woods would help.

Mabel strolled through the forest and continued to think about life and death. “Poor guys… what will happen to them if they’re not together? What if Grunkle Stan dies first? Grunkle Ford will be all alone, but what if Grunkle Ford dies first? Then Grunkle Stan will be all alone again. None of that’s fair.” Mabel then gasped in horror and her eyes became more blurry due to tears. “What if Dipper dies first and I end up all alone? Or what if I die first and then he’ll be all alone? Ugh, why can’t every twin die of duel heart attack?!”

Mabel was very tired. Her back ached and her legs ached and her knees ached and she had a headache… everything hurt. She realized she was at the lake and she decided to sit by the shoreline and rest. She held her knees by her chest and peered down at the water. “I guess I just gotta… WHAT?!” Mabel yelled in horror and jumped away from her reflection, but then forced herself to make sure she wasn’t crazy.

An old version of Mabel stared back at the thirteen-year-old. Her gray hair was the same shade as Grunkle Stan’s except for a stripe of darker gray down her long hair, kinda like Grunkle Ford. She had wrinkles from all of her past smiles and her hands were ached with arthritis. In fact, everything hurt, but if Mabel had to guess, her reflection was only in her fifties.

“Wow… I look so cool!” Mabel cheered as she peered down at the lake. “Look at me! I look like a silver fox! This is great! I can buy all the drinks and magazines I want! On weekdays I get half-priced dinners! I get free money from the government! And now I don’t have to go to high-school!” She laughed at her own joke, but then her back popped painfully and she yelped. “Ouch! Is this how the guys feel all the time?” Mabel asked as she looked at her curly gray hair and her wrinkling skin. A scary realization started to sink in. “Oh no. This… This is bad… What if I… Ford!” She gasped and quickly stood up. “Grunkle Ford will know what to do! He can fix me!”

Against better judgment, Mabel ran as fast as she could for home. Her hair became grayer and curlier as it began to lose it’s life. Mabel suddenly felt an overwhelming pain in her chest, making it hard to breathe, and she tripped over her own feet and fell, unable to get back up. The old lady moaned on the grass, helpless. She looked up and with her horrible vision she could have sworn she could see a brown triangle up ahead, indicating the Mystery Shack.

“Help… help…” She breathed weakly, but no one was coming. She sighed with exhaustion and laid back down on her front to try to regain some rest so she could move forward.

Dipper, meanwhile, had been looking for his sister. He guessed she was hanging out with Candy and Grenda, but in case she was somewhere in the house he wanted to ask her if she had borrowed his BABBA CD. “Mabel? Mabel?” He called on the porch. He shrugged and was about to head inside, forced to be patient, but then he heard and saw Waddles scamblering out of the woods alone; immediately Dipper suspected something was off; Mabel never lets her beloved pig explore alone, but maybe he had been adventurous and sneaky and now regretted it.

“Waddles?” Dipper scratched the top of his head to calm him down. “What’s up, buddy? You okay?”

Waddles suddenly bit his vest, tugged, and then let go and ran back to the edge of the woods. He oinked and squealed, begging Dipper to follow him. Taking his chances, Dipper followed, wondering if something - or someone - was out there. Only a few steps into the woods and Dipper saw a woman on the ground face-first. He saw the long gray hair and gasped with shock when he realized it was an old lady. “Whoa, hey, are you okay, miss?” He asked and was on his knees by her side, unsure how to help.

“Dipper…” The old lady sighed and looked up at the boy.

“Mabel?!” Dipper gasped; she may be old, but he could recognise her own twin. “What the heck happened?! Did you time travel? Are you from the future?!”

“N-No…” Mabel sighed. “Ford… Grunkle Ford… get…”

“Come on, I’ll take you to him.” Dipper said firmly to mask his fear. He draped one of his sister’s frail arms over his neck and helped her up to her feet. Slowly but surely they were heading back towards home.

Meanwhile, Ford was at the kitchen table, pleasantly munching on his lunch. Stan, on the other hand, shivered, put down his fork, and gulped down some soda.

“What, you don’t like my tuna salad?” The scientist asked.

“No. Who puts raisins in tuna salad?”

“The French.”

“Well, it’s not right.” Stan grumbled as he started on a new task: picking the raisins out of his meal.

Ford rolled his eyes and got up to refill his glass with water. The door opened and they heard Dipper’s voice before they saw him. “Grunkle Ford!”

He smiled kindly and turned, “What is it, m-” He dropped his glass, letting it shatter by his boots.

Mabel hung loosely by his shoulder, her hair gray and her skin in wrinkles. The elder twins rushed to her and Stan got to her first, holding her gently by the chin to look at her face. “Mabel, sweetie! Can you hear me? What happened?!”

“I don’t know, I just found her like this!” Dipper answered.

“Set her in the armchair.” Ford instructed. “We can fix this…”

“What if we can’t?!” Stan dared to ask. “I’m not just saying this cuz of her age, but she doesn’t look good.”

“No, you’re right.” Ford elaborated. “She’s not that much older than us, but the sudden change must have taken a toll on her body; we’ve had time to adjust and keep our bodies in good shape… or at least prevent aches, but she hasn’t had that kind of time. But she’ll be fine, we can reverse this, I’m sure of it.”

Dipper had Mabel sit on the armchair, her eyes closed, and now sitting back the amount of effort she had to put into breathing was more apparent. She groaned slightly and the boys were shocked to find her aging again more rapidly in front of them. Her wrinkles were deeper and her hair slowly turned white.

“Dipper, get the first aid kit, now!” Ford commanded and the teenager was off like a rocket.

Stan sat on the dino-skull and held her thin hand. “Just hang on, pumpkin, we’ve got this.” He soothed, his voice trembling slightly due to his tightening throat.

Mabel moaned slightly and tried to open her eyes. “Gr-Grunkle Stan…”

“Yeah, it’s me, sweetheart.” Stan smiled and squeezed her hand. “You’ll be fine, you’re a Pines for crying out loud, so just hang in there, okay?”

Mabel cracked a small smile and nodded.

Dipper was back. “Here!”

“Good,” Ford opened it and took her opposite hand, pulling out a stethoscope and listening to her heartbeat through her wrist. “Let’s see…”

Mabel was aging again; her hair was thinning and some of it was falling out of her scalp. Her hand in Stan’s grasp was now nothing more than skin on bones, her veins sensitive. She moaned and had to put more effort into her breathing; now she looked almost a hundred.

“No, no, no!” Stan called. “Mabel?”

“Hold on, sweetie, it’ll be okay.” Ford gently coached Mabel as he listened to her heartbeat, praying it would never stop.

“What the…” Dipper began to notice faint glowing behind Mabel’s sweater. He pulled down to see her neck and upper-chest and he gasped at a red ruby necklace with a silver chain. The gem was glowing and vibrating, almost looking like it was hot, and when Dipper went to touch it, it almost burned his skin and it was stuck to Mabel’s skin like it had been super-glued onto her.

“That’s not any gem!” Ford gasped. “That’s a Youth-Sucker! It drains the wearer’s youth until the host dies and then the necklace will feed off of the body.”

“What do we do, what do we do?!” Stan asked.

“We have to remove it, carefully.” Ford said and turned to Dipper. “Get the tool kit.” And the teenager was gone, again.

Too soon Mabel was aging again. More hair was falling out, now half of it was gone and the rest remaining was thin. Mabel tried to swallow a moan but it was very apparent on her face that she was in a lot of pain. The pain would definitely explain the sou-sucking leech. Ford eyed the anomaly on his niece’s chest as it began to pur happily over the approaching meal.

“Dipper, hurry!” Ford barked harshly.

Mabel struggled to open her eyes, but she was tired of looking at the darkness. “I… I love you…” Her voice was so quiet and so weak it was a miracle it could be heard.

Stan squeezed her hand as tightly as he could risk without hurting her. “We love you too, pumpkin, but don’t gimme any of that mushy stuff like it’s goodbye, okay?” He blinked to try to ease the stinging in his eyes.

“M’scared…”

“Here!” Dipper was back and practically threw the tool box at Ford so he could get to work.

The scientist pulled out one of his electronic gloves and a pair of tweezers and instructed,” Dipper, hold down the sweater’s neck so I can work.” Dipper helped the gem being showcased and it continued to vibrate and burn and pur. Mabel would probably have a very nasty burn on her chest for a while, but that didn’t matter nearly as much as saving her life.

“Easy, easy,” Ford said mostly to himself as he carefully pinched the gem by the hook where the string was, reading to pull when the anomaly was at its weakest. He would have to do it quickly to not worsen Mabel’s burn with his glove, and so in classic Stanford Pines action, with one swift movement he shocked the gem and pulled it off of Mabel’s chest the second it screeched with pain and anger.

The moment the Youth-Sucker was off Mabel her youth returned her to and soon she was a tired thirteen-year-old, rosy cheeked and with a full head of beautiful brown hair. She blinked her eyes open and rubbed them with her fists, like waking from a dream, and was surprised to find still electrocuting the Youth-Sucker in his fist as punishment for trying to kill his Mabel. “Whoa.”

“Mabel!” Stan cried out and swallowed her into his lap for a tight hug. “Don’t scare me like that, pumpkin, I thought I was gonna lose you!”

“I’m sorry, I just thought it looked cool.” Mabel tried to explain but her face was buried in his chest and she happily hugged him back.

“Well, all’s well that ends well.” Ford breathed, his anxiety finally going down as he stood normally and pocketed the Youth-Sucker to dissect for science. “I’m sure there’s a valuable lesson to take from all of this.”

“Meh, too tired to figure that out.” Mabel moaned as she nuzzled her face against her grunkle.

“Alright, then bed sweetie.” And Dipper and Ford knew better than to point out that he was taking her to his bedroom instead of the attic; Stan needed a nap, too, and there was no way he was going to let his little girl out of his arms for a while after that traumatizing scare.

[tagsecretsanta]

From @Psychoseal

to @avengedbiologist

Secret Santa does not own this work, full credit to the author above! The sun is blazing overhead. Even by tropical island standards it is hot. 

“It is too hot to move” Gordon complains from his spot by the pool where he is lying on one of the loungers, wearing nothing but his tiniest speedos. Showing off his perfectly sculpted abs, there is a scar on his chest. A streak of white on his otherwise evenly tanned torso. Virgil has slathered him in sunscreen from head to toe to avoid him getting burned. Partly because he cares about him and mainly because he is cranky and irritable when he is in pain! 

“Why don’t you go for a swim?” Kayo asks. She is on the lounger next to him, having just pulled herself up out of the water. 

There is a jug of lemonade on the table in between the two loungers and Kayo pours herself a glass before choking on its bitter taste. “Ugh, that is disgusting. Who made it?” she asks.

“Alan” Gordon replies with a shrug. 

“What did he put in it?” 

“No idea, I wasn’t silly enough to try it” Gordon replies, poking his tongue out at her. 

Kayo grins back at him and in one swift movement dumps the left-over lemonade on him before racing back into the house. 

Gordon squeaks with indignity, but rather than chasing after her he dives back into the pool. Revenge is the last thing on his mind as he lets his anger wash over him in his happy place, and besides, it is Christmas Eve and he is in too good a mood to let anyone ruin it now. 

He stays in the pool until his father comes out to get him. “Come on Squid there is food on the table and you need to have an early night. You know Father Christmas won’t come if you’re still awake!” 

“Dad, I am not five years old!” Gordon reminds him. 

“Do you want presents?” Jeff threatens with a smile. 

Gordon doesn’t respond, instead he jumps up from the pool before grabbing his father and pulling him close for a hug. 

“Gordon! You’re soaking” Jeff reminds him. 

Gordon shakes the water from his head all over Jeff’s shirt. 

“Never change Gords” Jeff says, as he struggles to free himself from his son’s vice like grip. 

“Ooh pizza” Gordon announces, when he enters the kitchen ten minutes later, now fully dressed in a pair of light blue pyjamas and no shoes. 

On the table are several pizzas neatly cut into slices. Steam rising up from the cheese and Gordon’s mouth is watering in anticipation. Reaching across Virgil, he grabs hold of the nearest pie and pulls it towards him. Taking two slices and mashing them together before shovelling it in whole, bits of stringy cheese are dripping down his chin. “H-h-hot!” he gasps. 

“Do you regret that?” Scott asks.

Gordon glares at him, while he gulps down a glass of water. “Nope! Never!” he finally spits out. 

Between the boys, Jeff, Grandma, Kayo and Brains the pizza doesn’t last long. 

Jeff has no idea what traditions the boys have kept or made anew. “What are we doing now?” he asks Scott. Jeff is so proud of the way Scott stepped up to help raise his brothers after his disappearance and is more than happy to sit back and let him take the lead. 

But it is Alan who replies. “Well we are going to have an early night. Eos is looking out for any hints of an emergency so we are going to make sure we are well rested.” 

Scott and Virgil burst into laughter. 

“Yeah right Al” John says, banging his fist on the table while he chokes on his coffee. 

“I am an adult now. A real grown up!” Alan insists, he knows that he can’t reveal his true plans yet. If this works he will finally get the respect he deserves. 

Grandma and Jeff break open a bottle of wine, which they take out onto the balcony to watch the sunset. “Do you ever miss Christmas in Kansas?” he asks. His mom gave up her own life to raise her grandchildren and he will never be able to repay her.

Grandma shakes her head. “Miss the sub-zero temperatures and the snow and the ice? No thank you!”

Even in the darkening evening the heat is oppressive and muggy. “I don’t know about you Jeff but it is nicer inside with the air conditioning. You have wrapped the boys presents?” 

Jeff nods. “Of course. This is the first time in nine years that I have been able to do this and I am going to make tomorrow special. The whole family is home under one roof. It is a shame Lady Penelope couldn’t make it; I know Gordon is missing her” 

“Her family plans couldn’t be rearranged, but I know they are going to meet up for New Year instead.” 

The house is silent when they go back in, all five boys having agreed to an early night, so that Father Christmas can deliver their presents in peace. The living room has the look of a tinsel explosion and the main tree is covered in lights and baubles. The morning after the tree had been decorated, they arrived downstairs to find Gordon had replaced the baubles with hundreds of them shaped like his own head. Which even now gives Alan nightmares of a parallel universe where he is haunted by a thousand Gordon’s! 

“I am off to bed myself Jeff dear. I will see you in the morning.” 

“Night mom” Jeff replies watching her go up the stairs past Virgil’s latest art project and into the comfort of her own suite. 

Jeff gets to work as soon as he is alone. Removing a box from the safe and pulling out the bright red suit and long white beard and getting changed into his old outfit. There is a large sack of presents waiting to go under the tree, which are hidden in his room.

Alan waits until he is sure that his father has gone to bed, before he sneaks out of his room and back down the stairs into the living room. Creeping as quietly as a mouse Alan sets up his great plan to catch Father Christmas and prove to Gordon once and for all that he does exist! 

“What are you doing?” 

Alan turns round to find Gordon staring at him in confusion. 

“Catching Father Christmas!” Alan insists. “What are you doing out of bed?” 

“Getting a glass of water. Do you need any help?” 

Alan shakes his head. “No, I have everything I need here. Can you remember the time you trapped Scott in that net and forced him to watch five hours of Into the Unknown?” 

Gordons eyes crinkle with the laughter of the memory. “Yeah, fun times!” 

“Well that. I am going to use that to catch him.” Alan reveals his plan. 

“Good luck. I am going back to bed” Gordon says yawning. “You want a drink?” 

“I’m good” Alan replies. Turning his attention back to the trap. He doesn’t go up onto the roof to trap the reindeer, the last thing he would want to do is accidentally cause Rudolph to fall and hurt himself! 

Once the net is set up Alan realises that he needs a place to hide, and he knows the perfect spot. The boy’s old fort. To help them adjust to the move, Jeff helped them build a fort in the living room behind his desk. The entrance is hidden by a pair of curtains which used to hang in their mom and dad’s room in Kansas. Inside there are five squashy mismatched armchairs which Grandma helped them decorate. Alan’s is bright red and adorned with pictures of rockets. Here he has the perfect view of the room, as he gets settled in his chosen hiding spot. 

He has not been in here for ages and he starts to think about the times he spent in here. 

That first night on the Island when he was too frightened to sleep and ended up in here joined by his brothers they all slept in here, snuggled in a bro pile on the soft carpeted floor. 

Their first Christmas where they strung fairy lights across the entrance and all stayed in here to open their presents and eat the cold dry turkey Grandma cremated for their dinner. 

The night their father disappeared. Alan sought refuge in here, curling up on the floor on his own while he cried himself to sleep. Alan hasn’t slept in his own bed since, preferring the floor. No one else has vanished while he sleeps on the floor.

There is a box next to his chair. A box full of memories. Smiling now, Alan starts to look through the box. there are ticket stubs from movies they went too, old school reports, John’s science fair trophy and Gordon’s Olympic gold medal. Family photos from Kansas and the Island. At the bottom of the box, Alan finds their old flag. Designed and painted by Virgil “Fort Tracy” and tomorrow he is going to put the flag back where it belongs. 

Alan sits down on the floor, and before he knows it he is fast asleep.

*TB*

“ARRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH!” A scream wakes him up nearly an hour later. Alan jumps in shock, and momentarily confused before he realises where he is. He scrambles to his feet and races out the Fort where he finds exactly what he is waiting for. 

“YES I CAUGHT YOU!”  Alan cries. 

“Get me down!” The figure dressed in his red suit calls from above his head. 

Realisation that it is his father and not Father Christmas dawns on him, and he releases the net. “DAD?” 

“What the hell Alan?” he asks.

“I just wanted to catch Father Christmas” Alan says, there is a deep look of disappointment on his face and tears are threatening. 

“Oh Allie” Jeff melts. “You know that Father Christmas doesn’t exist. Come on, help me pop the presents under the tree and then I will make us hot chocolate.” 

The disappointment isn’t fading as he helps Jeff place the gifts until he finds ones with his name on. “Hey, look this one is for me!” 

“Of course it is. Do you think we would leave you out?” Jeff asks.

“Gordon said…” Alan starts.

“Say no more! Never listen to Gordon” Jeff reminds him with a grin. 

Jeff makes the hot chocolate, and the two go back to the Fort. “I haven’t seen you use this for ages” he says while he sits on Scott’s customised chair.

“I think we outgrew it” Alan says, there is a hint of sadness in his voice now. 

“Nothing lasts forever Alan, you must know that by now” Jeff says, placing his mug on the floor and giving his youngest son a hug.

“Everything changed when you disappeared dad” Alan admits. “And none of it for the better, I missed you so much” and he finally realises that he knew all along that his father was playing Father Christmas. Since he got back, there has been hope in his life again.

“I missed you too. I missed you all so much but I am back now, and I am never going anywhere like that again” Jeff reassures his youngest son. 

“Please don’t” Alan replies resting his head on his father’s shoulder, he can feel himself falling asleep here and he has never felt so safe before. 

Jeff is starting to snore when there is a loud thud outside. 

“Dad? What was that?” Alan asks, shaking him awake. 

“Whaaaa?” Jeff replies sleepily. 

“There is something outside” Alan tells him. 

“No there isn’t. Go back to sleep” Jeff replies. 

“Come on!” Alan says, trying to drag him to his feet. 

Jeff knows when he is defeated and allows Alan to lead him from their sanctuary to find out what is going on. 

Out by the pool, there is a sleigh parked which is housing eight reindeer. “DAD!” Alan shouts, “LOOK!” 

“Hello Alan, you are meant to be in bed!” 

“FATHER CHRISTMAS!” Alan exclaims in shock. “How? My brothers said you didn’t exist. But I knew you did, I just knew it!” 

“And that Alan Is why your brothers are getting a lump of coal each and your getting a plush model of your thunderbird” Father Christmas replies. “But you have to keep my secret, okay?” 

Alan nods. “Anything for you. I promise that I will always keep your secret” 

“Good, now go to bed and get some sleep” 

Alan is sitting up in his room when Father Christmas leaves, watching the sleigh fly up and away into the night sky with a “Ho ho ho” which he knows he is the only one who can hear. 

“Merry Christmas” Alan says to the retreating reindeer before he lies down on his bed, and for the first time in nine years Alan sleeps soundly in his own bed. 

*TB*

Christmas morning is a blur of laughter and present opening. Until there is only one gift left. 

“Dear Kayo,

Have a lovely Christmas 😉

Love from Gordon” 

“Gordon, you are the only person I know who can make have a lovely Christmas sound like a threat!” She tells him as she pulls the ribbon and lifts the lid from the box.

Lemonade explodes all over her. 

“GORDON!” She yells running her hand through her sticky hair.

“Gotcha!” Gordon replies with a grin.

“Oh you are lucky it is Christmas!” Kayo tells him laughing. “Truce?” 

“Yeah truce” Gordon agrees. 

“Excellent, I am going to check on the turkey” Grandma says.

Identical looks of horror flash upon everyone’s faces. 

“Merry Christmas boys” Jeff says with a grin. Glad that it doesn’t matter how many years have passed, somethings just never change! 

[paodequeijofeliz-blog]

I would do it all again

Ride or Die Fanfiction (characters and main story belongs to Pixelberry Studios).

Pairing: Mona and MC (Annie)

Information: this takes place after the first book.

Summary: After what happened at the parking lot, each member of the crew tries to build a new life, following the “every man for himself” motto. But Annie doesn’t agree with that and tries to pull them back together, especially Mona, who she has been waiting for too many years.

Warnings: some Angst talk, but not much.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

I would do it all again - Part 7 (FINALE)

         People weren’t allowed on campus after 10 p.m. The gates were closed, and securities would wonder around, keeping it safe. From what, Mona had no idea, it was just a huge old building with lots of books in it. Even the computers were too old to worth robbing. She just smiled at that vision, not much of a challenge for her. Sneaking in the darkness, the woman found her way to jump over the wall, fast and silent.

         In a few minutes, Mona was already walking through the hallways, clever to keep her distance from the windows. Where did you hide… It looked like the classrooms were all empty.

         “Library.” Said a man’s voice. It was the janitor, standing next to the restroom’s door. “She likes to stay there. I leave it unlocked.”

         She studied him for a moment but nodded her thanks.

        Library was on the third floor and had a light on. Of course Annie would hide between books. Mona crossed it like a lightning, following the heart-breaking sound of a soft crying only to find her girlfriend sitting on the corner. She had a huge coat covering her body, probably something kept in the trunk for cold days. Her face was flushed under the yellow light, a few slow tears still rolling down.

         Slowly, the Lebanese took a step closer and sat in front of Annie. Nobody said anything for a while, as the girl kept her gaze down, wiping the tears away. It was so quiet there that Mona could swear she was hearing their hearts beating: hers, faster, like a race car; Annie’s, slow, sad, tired.

         After what it seemed like an eternity, the sobbing girl took a deep breath and said something.

       “I never meant…”

       “I’m sorry.” Mona interrupted. Were her hands shaking? She shoved them into the jacket’s pockets to hide it. “I didn’t want you to find out that way. I didn’t want you to find out at all, actually. You’re right to be upset. I should’ve told you about Ada and our… Short relationship… In prison. You asked me not to fool you and I did. I lied. Fucked it up.”

       Annie blinked, her mouth opened, but there was no sound, so the Lebanese took it as a sign and carried on.

       “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I really am. You gave me all the time and space to come clean, I guess I was just… I was just…” she roamed her hands through the dark hair, searching for the right word. “Scared.”

        Again, silence. The girl fixed her posture, bit her lower lip, but didn’t say a thing.

       “I was scared you would leave.” That was barely a whisper. “That this would be too much for you to accept.”

       “I’m not upset about that.”

       Mona arched her eyebrows, surprised. “No?”

       “No. Of course not. You never promised me anything back then, Mon. I can’t demand or be mad at your for being with someone else. How selfish do you think I am?”

         “Wait. So, you’re not upset about Ada?”

         “Well, I am bothered that she was standing so close to you today, cause now we are truly dating. But that’s not what really hurt me.” Annie sighed and reached for Mona’s hands. They were warm and squeezed hers in a reassuring way. “I never meant to trap you into a boring life. I don’t want to change who you are, never did. After all of that, I just wanted you to be safe. And that’s all I have. I’m sorry, I can’t keep you safe in a big house, with all the wonderful stuff you deserve. I’m a teacher, a doctorate student, who drives an old car and buys cheap red pens. I’m so sorry. I love you, but I can’t give you what you want.”

         That’s when it hit Mona. It wasn’t the part about being together with another woman that made the girl run away. Not jealousy or disappointment.

         She was just feeling small.  

         “Babe, what Ada said about the things I want or enjoy, that wasn’t true.” The Lebanese let out a laugh of relief. The problem was so much easier. “Gee, is that what’s hurting you? Then look at me, and I’ll repeat it: I want to be here. I want to be with you. I want you and everything related to you. Screw the fancy hotels and jewels. They’re from a part of my life I was dead inside, in rage, alone. I’d trade all of it to run an auto shop with two great friends and a hot girlfriend who sneaks into a freakin’ library when she’s sad.”

         Annie had her eyes filled with tears again. But she was smiling. A broad, happy smile. “Do you mean it? Are you sure? Cause if I’m doing it wrong…”

         Mona stopped her sentence midway by pulling her into a kiss, straddling that silly, cute girl while making her run out of breath. Now she had the face flushed again, but it wasn’t of crying. “Yeah. Dumbass. I’m sure.”

         “So, you’re not sad about living a calmer life from now on?”

         “As calm as we can make it. You know problems will follow me forever. I still have to pee in a cup for my parole officer. And Ada won’t leave me alone for too long. You heard it. I gave her my word when we did… It.”

         Annie tilted her head, slightly confused. “When she said, ‘when we killed that girl’? I thought she meant you. When she turned you into a high profile criminal.”

         “It wasn’t a metaphor.” Mona eyes darkened, but her hands were holding the girl close. She didn’t want to lose her. “Ada had a fight with my cell mate. She suffocated her with a pillow while I… While I was watching. At the door. I didn’t do anything to stop her. It felt like I was frozen there.”

         “I’m sorry.” Annie touched her cheek.

         “She has been holding it against me ever since. I didn’t do anything to help. I didn’t move. I didn’t…”

         “You were in shock. I know you did a lot of bad things in your life, Mon. But you’re not a murderer. That’s why you froze.”

         “This will haunt me forever.” Her voice became a whisper again.

         “We’ll find a way to get through it. Trust me.”

         Mona took a deep breath. Foreheads together, they were losing themselves in each other’s gaze. The Lebanese felt broken in so many ways, and yet somehow, she could find peace in that girl’s face.

         “After everything you did for us? I trust you. Blindly.”

         “I would do it all again.”

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

           “Here’s more beer!” Toby lifted two boxes while walking inside the shop, a credit card hanging in his month.

         “Leave it on the fridge and take a cold one for you!” Ximena was sitting on a nice red car’s hood, next to a smiley Annie.

         “Nice!” he grabbed a bottle and threw himself on one of those rolling chairs that was left around, spinning closer to them. “The food?”

         “Mona’s bringing it.” Said the tattooed girl, stopping him with her foot. “You’ll get dizzy.”

         “She’s taking forever. Isn’t the diner just across the street?” Toby took a gulp of his beer, too distracted to notice the expression on Annie’s face.

         “Yeah, well, she had a doctor’s appointment today too. Just some check-up. X, do you have the camera?”

         “Sure thing, all set!”

         A couple minutes later, the old dusty car, Harold, parked beside the fancy red one. Mona jumped out of it with huge bags of burgers and fries. Ximena gladly took it out of her arms and went to leave them on the table, followed by a hungry Toby. “Finally! I’m starving.”

         “Hey, babe.” She gave her girl a kiss on the cheek, pulling her closer by the waist.

         “Hi, you. How was therapy?” Annie kept her voice low, careful so they wouldn’t listen.

         Mona only rolled her eyes, giving the same answer as always. “Boring.”

         But it wasn’t true. She was enjoying it. Well, at least, respecting it enough. Otherwise, the Lebanese wouldn’t be going there again every month for the past year. Annie knew it, but why not let the woman have her tough attitude?

         “I bet it was.” She lingered for a while on those dark eyes, before suddenly realizing the noises in the kitchen. “Hey, you two! No eating now! Let’s take the picture first. Just bring the beers!”

         Toby showed up with a mouth filled with French fries and two extra bottles on his hands. “He’ ya gu.”

         “Did you steal some fries?” Annie shook her head dramatically, pretending to be hurt. “How could you????”

         “No, I…” he swallowed the rest of it, taking a gulp of beer to help. “No, I didn’t. Me? A thief? Never! I’m totally against crimes.”

         “Alright, timer is set to ten seconds! So, everybody, get into place.” Ximena had put the camera on top of a few boxes carefully positioned in front of the shop. It could frame them together with the neon letters on the top.

         Mona took the extra bottles from Toby, giving one to Annie while sitting next to her on the car hood. “Cheers to that. Let’s go, X!”

         “Annnnnd, now! Ten seconds!” the tattoo artist ran towards then, sitting on the floor, right in front of the red car, her long arms grabbing each one of the women’s legs. Toby preferred to stay up next to them, sticking his tongue out while his right arm was in the air with the bottle of beer in his hand.

         The flash blinded them for a second. The first picture as a group again.

         “So?” Mona took a long gulp, throwing an arm around Annie’s neck.

         Ximena was still shaking the polaroid. “Patience!”

         “Oooh I look like one of those dangerous bass players in a Rock band.” Said Toby, peeking over her shoulders.  

         “Here! What do ya think?”

         “Nice!” the Lebanese smiled, proud of how hot she looked in that picture.

         Annie needed a little longer. She held the photo and admired it for a moment. They seemed so cool. The cars, the pose, the purple neon letters forming the name RIDE OR DIE.

         It was just the beginning of their new lives.

Tagging: @kamilahsayeet2063 (hope you like it <3)

[crqstalite]

&burn

thinking about AJ last night and her relationship with kaidan (remember when i said 5/7 of my canon sheps have been paired with him? yeah.) and even though no one asked, i think billie eilish’s &burn  fits really well for where her character goes. is it cliche? maybe. but i like this song so there >:(

it’s a bit long. and a bit silly but nonetheless -- first look in AJ herself i guess.

-

Lips meet teeth and tongue My heart skips eight beats at once (That's better) If we were meant to be, we would have been by now See what you wanna see, all I see is him right now H-h-him right now

Kaidan’s one of the few people AJ’s ever learned to trust by the time Saren’s investigation begins -- she’s the sort of person that refuses to let people get close unless she knows they won’t hurt her. And close often means just learning the name she prefers to go by. She likes to keep people at arms length.

Kaidan is different. Kaidan doesn’t press on her to trust him faster than need be.

She admires that about him. It’s still a slow process to open up to him, but it isn’t as needlessly painful as she’d believed it would be. There’s no fear to actively revealing parts of her character she’d never been able to show before.

It’s new. He’s new. How she smiles whenever she catches his eye is new. She isn’t sure whether she likes it or not. But he does mean a lot to her. She knows he’s a new part of her life she wants to be around. That she actively wants to get to know, that she wants to become part of his.

AJ wonders what’ll become of them after Saren is gone and the mission is over. What does he see her as? A stepping stone to someone better? Or is this real? One of the few things she’s chased after for most of her life?

Someone who loves her unconditionally, platonically and romantically?

She doesn’t know what he is to her. Maybe she doesn’t want to. If she says it out loud, if she says she really cares about him, that she loves him...

My heart skips eight beats at once (That's better)

Will it still be real when she wakes in the morning? Will June and Kaidan still be...

She can’t find the words for it. Nor does she want to. That means making that real. That means putting a name to it. A name means that it exists.

A name means it can be ripped apart.

I'll sit and watch your car burn With the fire that you started in me But you never came back to ask it out Go ahead and watch my heart burn With the fire that you started in me But I'll never let you back to put it out (Thanks)

This is after the Normandy crashes, and the two years have passed where AJ is wondering where he is. Searching for anything she can find to bring him back to her. Looking for anything that she can do to take her life back, to rewind the clock.

Futilely, of course.

With the fire that you started in me But you never came back to ask it out Go ahead and watch my heart burn

And that part specifically is Horizon and everything after it. It isn’t fair, she was so sure that what they had was real. She was always under the assumption that when you found real love, that was forever. That it’d always be there. She thought Ilos and everything that came before and after meant something in the grand scheme of things.

And then he leaves. She watches him leave. She lets him leave, biting her tongue for everything she said, wondering how this encounter could’ve gone differently.

Later, she understands. Later she can rationalize it away. Later, it all makes sense and it doesn’t quite hurt as much. It’s all in character, and it’s fair of him to walk away. 

She’d asked too much, pressed too hard, and deserved exactly what happened when he pushed back.

Later isn’t now, though. Now is when she’s hurt and broken and shattered like glass. She sees whatever future they had together go up in flames. That makes her angry, it makes her frustrated that there’s nothing she can do to stop it. There’s nothing she can do to fix it.

She always could fix these things. But she can’t even find the pieces to glue back together. And maybe she doesn’t want to fix anything. Maybe she wants to throw everything off her desk and scream and cry and stop acting like she has everything together when she doesn’t.

The shattered photo on her bedroom floor when the dark energy stops flickering over her is what breaks her completely.

Go ahead and watch my heart burn With the fire that you started in me But I'll never let you back to put it out

Alexandra June AJ doesn’t know if she wants their relationship back or not. She doesn’t know it’s worth letting him come back and re-light the fire he’d set the first time. She burned her hand on this stove once, and she can’t afford to do it again.

7-4-2008, I still remember that Heaven sent a present my way I won't forget your laugh Packing everything when you leave You know you comin' back

Here is where I assume Kaidan is never able to forget about Shepard -- or in this case AJ. He might try in those years she was dead, but no one else is her. The corners of their eyes don’t crinkle the same way her’s do, no one else smiles the same, no one else’s laugh is so muted you consider it treasure enough to even hear it at all. Her voice is sharp but at the same time, the only thing he’s wanted to hear since she died.

And then she was gone. Just like that, a candle light flickered out by the freezing cold of space. Choked out by the air that was supposed to sustain her.

Then she was back. At first he thinks he hallucinating.

He’s not.

It’s whiplash, trying to wrap his head around that. He’d grieved for her for nearly two years by the time he sees her again across that field on Horizon. He isn’t sure that it even is her at first, with the long dark hair missing, a red mop of hair on her head now in it’s place, orange light pulsing behind scars on her face.

The relief in her voice is palpable, the same breathless Kaidan off her lips when she hugs him. It’s the same smile, the same dark eyes he could lose himself in if he let himself go.

She’s here.

But at the same time, she’s not. The scars on her face aren’t her’s. The insignia on one of her’s crew’s armor makes his blood run cold. She’s upset, tripping over her words to try and explain to him why she’s with them.

Cerberus. Them.

Walking away is one of the hardest things he’s had to do. He wonders whether it’s the right decision for a long time. 

She doesn’t yell after him. Her voice is strained enough, on the edge of barely held back tears with his name on her lips.

The empty look in her eyes when he’d had to say goodbye haunts his dreams.

I try to wait for the storm to calm down But that's stubborn, baby, leadin' to war We droned down on each other Tryin' to even the score

They live to see the end of the suicide mission. They live to see each other return to Earth. So close, and yet so far. It isn’t the same like when she was dead -- he knows she’s here. He knows she’s alive at least.

She’s aware she’s a walking political catastrophe waiting to happen. Not to mention there are space cthulus on the horizon.

She’s aware he’s here in Vancouver. And very much alive. 

Do they miss each other? Or do they miss the idea of each other? Something she’d had to learn, and something he’d had to consider. Was there anyone out there like him? She hadn’t had the chance to look, she hadn’t wanted to look.

He already knew there was no replacing her as is.

They don’t have time to decide.

The Reapers hit Earth.

A storm is whirling around AJ. She barely knows what’s happening anymore, and there’s nothing she can do about any of it. The Reapers are here and destruction reigns. And yet she barely has enough time to process any of it, trying to find an opening to get back to some semblance of normal. She needs to find a crag in the side of the mountain to pull herself back up and stop her fall.

Kaidan. 

He nearly dies there on Mars.

That forces her to slow down because it turns her world upside down. It leaves her dizzy and sick because she isn’t sure what she’d do if he died. They may not have been together in years, but he still means everything to her.

She can’t control the Reapers. She can’t control Cerberus. She can slow all of those things down, but nothing she herself does will affect any of those things.

But what she can do here? What she can even do to convince the only man she’s ever loved to trust her again? Is her fear of going back to something real, something with a name going to hold her back from finding a sliver of happiness in this dimming galaxy?

What they can do here? He sees someone else in her shoes, even if it’s still the same AJ he’d spent the night with, she’s changed. For the better, for worse, he can’t tell. Maybe both. Maybe neither. Is it worth the risk of giving himself back to her?

Well, they can try not to burn each other on re-entry.

Go ahead and watch my heart, watch my heart burn You know you coming back, you know you coming back

“I want to understand what this is between us...and make it real. That’s what I want. What do you want?”

“I can’t bury what I feel for you anymore. And I don’t want to.”

Go ahead and watch my heart, watch my heart burn

[k-knightt-blog]

The Beginning of Something - Tom Hiddleston One-Shot

Request: One where the reader meets Tom in a bar, and she’s had a rough day and they get to talking!!! You can decide the details and stuff.

Word count: 2,781

Warnings: None

A/N: I’d really appreciate feedback!!!

It’s pouring down rain as you leave the shop that you were forced to close yet again. You had pretty much been working 7 until 10 four days in a row now and it was starting to wear you down. Why did a book shop need to be open so early until so late, it’s not like customers flocked at the doors at 7 in the morning. Most importantly why the hell did your boss decide to leave for vacation in Spain during one of the busiest weeks of the whole year? It was beyond you.

You’re practically dripping of rain when you push open the pub door. It’s dimly lit and there’s not a lot of people inside. There’s a couple of people eating a roast and having a beer in the booths and only two people at the bar, not unusual for a Tuesday. What made you annoyed was that one of the men situated at the bar was sitting in your seat, or not actually yours but in your favourite chair. He’s nearly slumped over – either deadly tired or inebriated, you guessed the latter. The other man is sitting on the short side, the chair he has chosen makes it possible to see the entire pub. He looks slightly familiar but you gaze quickly turns away from him, although his features interest you. You stride towards the bar and throw your jacket and bag, rather angrily, over the chair next to you. The bartender, Tony sees you and shakes his head out of pity, he smiles at you though. He sees how frustrated you are, and he also knows it because you were there on Saturday and you were ranting about it then as well. He thought he was in for a 15-minute monologue from you, but that wouldn’t happen.

Tony’s pub ‘The Haunted Monkey’ was just over the street from your work, so the two of you had become quite good friends after discovering the brother-sister dynamic you two had. You sit down in the chair and let out a big sigh, “No monologue tonight Tony, I’ll save it for dear Zachery when he’s back from Marbella. I hear is wonderful this time of year.” Sarcasm dripping from your words and Tony let out a laugh. “I was actually hoping for one, I love hearing statistics about book shops and why they should stop selling 50 shades of grey.” He’s sarcastic too, and you scoff at him rolling your eyes skywards. ”He could at least hired someone to help me out.” You sigh. Tony nods, agreeing with you but he has something more to say, “You should have refused to work this crazy workload, y/n.” He winks, knowing that it was something you could have easily done. You’re quite the badass, but not when it came to your work and the money you made off it.

Now you notice the handsome gentleman to your right, sitting on the side is listening in on your conversation. Most people do, you’re not a quiet human and nor is Tony. “And lose my job? God knows I adore London but the rent is steep, crazy steep, and I love my flat, I really do.” You sign, “Took me forever to afford it.” Tony notices some defeat in your voice and offers a hand on yours, “I know darling, you hang in there.” You give him a quick smile, squeezing his hand on top of yours ever so lightly. Tony lets go and reaches for a glass, “The unusual?” He smirks and you smirk right back at him, “A double please.”

While Tony mixes your drink, you look over to the man sitting on the side, he’s looking down at his phone. He’s probably waiting for a date, a man like that couldn’t be single. You notice a scar on his forehead, similar to yours, you touch the scar ever so fast on your own forehead, wondering how he got his. Before your thoughts about the man could spiral more he looks up, meeting your eyes. Quickly you look away, embarrassed at being caught staring. From the corner of your eye, you can tell he’s smirking. Not a douche-like smirk, no, a charmed one. A drink arrived before you, “Thank you.” You say to Tony who says it’s no problem at all.

Tony stands in the middle of the two of you, the seemingly passed out guy no longer in the picture. “You want a refill, Tom?” He asked the man, Tom? That felt oddly familiar like you already knew that was his name. Wait a second. You reach inside your bag beside you and find your phone and type in “Loki Tom actor” and the result that came up took you by surprise. On the screen, before you, photos of the actor who played Loki showed up, and it was the man sitting at the same bar as you. It had to be, it's uncanny. Before your tongue and mouth had time to process what your brain was about to say you blurted out, “You’re Loki aren’t you?” You nearly yell it and, now confirmed, Tom smiles. He held your gaze, your eyes probably slightly crazy looking. “You caught me.” Tom laughed and looked down at the counter as if he was the one embarrassed. ”I’ll have the same as the lady, y/n right?” You’re mortified, you should say sorry, right? Go with an apology, always works in a crisis. “I’m sorry, I have a problem with just yelling out things before thinking beforehand. I bet you aren’t extremely fond of people telling you who you are.” You’d stumble a little over your words but there’s still confidence coming from you.

Tom doesn’t answer, he just stands up and proceeds to walk over to you, “Do you mind if I join? Closer is better, so we don’t need to yell to each other from across the bar. I bet Tony isn’t terribly fond of it.” He emphasises the word fond which indicates that he’s got a sense of humour over this embarrassing slip on your part. He sits down after you give him a welcoming nod. “Oh, Tony isn’t very fond of any noise I make, I tell you. He wishes he could ban me, and definitely, after this, can’t have someone scaring away his famous costumes.” You’re not looking at Tony, but you can hear him laugh and says that he agrees. “Nonsense, I’m sure you’re a delight,” Tom says and he sips on the drink before him, now the same as yours. The liquid he ingested makes him make a grimace. You laugh, “A bit strong?” Tom turns a little pink as he nods, “A tad.” Now Tony has heard what Tom has said, “A delight? Try knowing her for a year and get back to me.” And for that, you reached over the bar and gave Tony a quick punch to the arm. “This man is trying to flirt with me, let him.” You say and look over at Tom who’s blushing, he nearly seems flustered, are you making him nervous?

”I’ll leave the two of you alone then.” Laughs Tony and Tom opens his mouth to say to thing to the silly man behind the bar but he doesn’t. His eyes find you instead and there’s devilry to them, which you find immensely attractive. “You’re quite the spitfire aren’t you.” It isn’t a question, and you could see that he might be having second thoughts about saying it. He thought maybe you’d take offence. “Proud of it too,” You say and smirk at him, taking a sip of your drink. His eyes show signs of relief when you take it as a compliment, which is the way he meant it. The neon light above the bar is illuminating the both of you, the hue of red is enchanting.

”How long have you lived in London? I’m under the impression you didn’t grow up here.” Tom asks as he cradles his drink in his elegant hands. There are butterflies in your stomach now, and that’s not because you are sitting face to face with a celebrity and arguably one of the best actors of his generation. It’s because you’re actually attracted to this man and you feel calm all the same, that never happens. What you didn’t know was that he felt the same. You had caught his eye as soon as you entered through the door, dripping wet from the English weather. He liked the way you move your hands while you talked, the way you said what you thought and felt outright, the way your eyes were intense but soft at the same time.

”I moved here after university, always loved London, and I always dreamt of living here. Camden Town really is the place.” You say with a delighted smile on your face, happy that you succeeded with your dream of ending up where you did. You hear that there are people behind you sitting down at the bar but Tom’s eyes are still on you. It’s either out respect because you're still talking to him, or he’s actually interested in you. It felt odd, having someone really listen to every word. It doesn’t happen that often, not in London at least, where everything and everyone is slightly rushed. Most people kept eye contact but their gaze becomes glazed, simply waiting for you to stop taking so they could. Tom’s stare, however, was unrelenting and it made you slightly nervous, but happy.

After you had told him a little bit more about your flat and what you studied at uni he was quite pleased with the information from you, and as the gentleman, he happened to be he started to talk. You’re eyes just as focused on him as his eyes were on yours, “I adore Camden Town, I myself live in Belsize Park at the moment, it’s charming, quiet.” He pauses to clear his throat. “Which I like of course, after months of filming it’s awfully nice to come home to a calm environment.” You let out a scoff that took him by surprise, “I’m sorry sir but I can’t believe you called the London borough of Camden calm just now.” He laughs, “Calmer the other places.”And you agree with him by nodding, “I’m sure.” Still not really believing him.

“Stop me if I’m going off course.” You warn him as you take a long drink from your glass, he nods almost excited to what you’re going to say next. ”It’s it not hard, annoying even, to be recognised all the time? Like just now when I sort of ambushed you and again I’m sorry for that.” He looks at you with a curious grin, “Sometimes. Especially when you’re just looking for a place to have a quiet drink and someone calls you by a character you played.” He grins, even more, waiting for your reaction. As he finished you quickly hide behind your hands, “Oh my god.” You say and continue to hunch over to hide your redding face. Tom laughs, “I’m joking, darling.” He removes your hands from around your face, “I was going to ambush you too. I planned on talking to you as soon as I saw you walk inside. Honest.” His one hand is still touching your own, relief washes over you. ”You had me scared there Hiddleston and I do not scare easily.” You say as he smiles and looks down on the bar table, he looks up after a second, “I bet it takes a great deal more to scare you.” He’s smirking now, and you nod deciding to change the subject. “I was actually in Talacre Gardens just the other day, and it was actually quite calm.” He smiles, “That’s just a few minutes from my flat, and told you so!” He says and a toothy grin follows.

The conversation flows between you, you got on like a house on fire. It’s almost 2 and the bar will soon be closing. By this time you two were openly flirting with each other. Naturally, it progressed to you sitting close, both of your hands nearly touching as you cradled your drinks. The bubble the two of you were in was interrupted by Tony yelling, “Last call!” Tom looked down at his watch, “My god it’s nearly 2 in the morning!” He looks up at you and you can see guilt in his eyes, “I’m sorry if I kept you.” He says in a soft voice as he strokes his thumb over your hand. You want to tell him that he’s being ridiculous and that you would stay with him for as long as he would let you, but it was too soon. ”You didn’t, I had a lovely time. But I should head home.” He nods, “Does that bookshop really need to be opened at 7?” He says, saddened by the fact that he wasn’t going to be in your presence much longer. “I’m afraid so.”

You look at him with sad eyes as you stand up and reach for your jacket. Quickly Tom is on his feet helping you on with your denim jacket, “Always the gentlemen huh?” You wink at him as you stand side by side, ready to walk out of the bar. “As it should be.” He responds as he opens the door for you, the rain had stopped and you were thankful for it. The two of you leave but not before yelling goodbye to Tony. He had a smug look on his face like he was Cupid and hat shot tow arrows in both of your chests. Tom and you stop outside the pub, he was heading north and you south, so this was goodbye. Tom let’s out a chuckle and shuffles his feet, “I was going to ask for your number earlier but you kept doing your Marilyn Monroe impression and I forgot. It’s quite impressive.” He standing close now and a blush creep up on your cheeks. Only a foolish person would do an impression of an actor to another actor. “I’m glad you liked it, but you don’t have to lie, it’s rather terrible.” You laugh and so does he, “I wrote it down for you when you were ordering a set of drinks for us, and then you started to talk about Taika Waititi and I forgot to give you it.” You reach toward and give him a piece of paper, your number scribbled down on it. “Thank you, I’ll protect it with my life.” He says and brings it up to his chest, showing you how much it meant.

“I guess I’ll be waiting for your call.” You say, waiting for him to do or say something. He grins and leans forward and kisses you on the cheek, “I won’t keep you waiting. It was lovely meeting you y/n.” You’re feeling a bit dizzy from his touch so you snake your arms around his waist and squeeze. Tom is fast to guide his arms around your waist as well. Both of you breathe in each other’s scent as you part from each other. “Goodbye, darling.” He says and you say a quiet goodbye.

That’s when he begins to walk away, he looks back at you after a few meters and throws you a kiss which you catch, the grin on your face so wide it hurts. You begin walking home, in the exact opposite way from Tom, you had only a couple of hundred meters back to your flat, Tom had about 10 minutes. After a minute or two of walking in the cold night, your phone begins to ring. You take it out of your jacket and your heart does a flip, it’s Tom. You answer, “Who calls this time of night? Explain yourself, Tom.” He laughs on the other side of the signal. “Sorry, but I wanted to ask you something.” He clears his throat, “You said you were free Saturday, and I was wondering if you wanted to explore Primrose Hill with me and maybe let me cook you dinner after that.” Your heart is nearly beating out of your chest. “I’d be crazy to say no, I’d love to,” He lets out a breath that he had been holding, “I’ll see you there then, around noon?” You’re nearly home now and Tom can probably hear you rattle with your keys, “I can’t wait.” Tom sounds delighted, “Well, that was all I wanted y/n. I’ll let you go to bed, sleep well darling.” Seriously your heart is going to explode. “You too, Tom, don’t let the bedbugs bite.”

[sad-af1121]

Little Did You Know: Part 2

Summary: You thought your upbringing in a mafia home was a difficult time in your life, fighting for the love of Bucky Barnes who didn’t meet your father’s standards. But even when you’ve both stayed away from that chaotic life, the past returns and things get out of hand. The home you both built tumbled harsher as your reality flew out the window and so did your heart.  (Modern AU) Pairing: Ex-Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 2106 Warnings: More angst, mentions of: death, gang business, abuse, violence?   A/N: If I’ve missed any warnings pls let me knooow Feedback is welcomed 💜

Part 1

(The night of)

“Yeah, he called me this mornin’. I got the shipment ready for him, all he’s gotta do is sign the damn papers and have them mailed to my office.”  Bucky informed his client over the phone as he rubbed his temples whilst looking over the illuminating city in the dark sky from his suite. The stress of handling a business all on his own was getting to him but he enlisted Steve, a well- trusted childhood friend, to assist with his work and finances. He was the only one Bucky could depend on, having the same upbringing environment and well, having the brains for the math that went into selling car parts to vehicle industries.

“I’ll see ya in a week or so. It’s getting late. Bye.” Bucky sighed, tossing his phone on the table that was blanketed with papers for work. With slumped shoulders, he shuffled them together before stuffing them into his burgundy, leather coated briefcase.

Just another week in this city and he’d be in your loving arms with his son nestled against your bosom. A light smile carved on his face at the thought before a knock on the door dragged him away. “Who’s there?”

“Steve, your accountant. Ya know, the guy who you used to walk to school so that he wouldn’t get into any fights with assholes who stole my lunch money?” Steve chuckled as Bucky blew out a laugh.

“Oh yes, Steve. How could I forget?” Bucky grinned and opened the door, smiling wider at the sight of Steve before stepping aside and allowing him in. Bucky patted Steve on the shoulder, entering his elegant suite and stood in the living room.

“Me and the guys are going out for drinks. You wanna join?”

Bucky shut the door before looking at his Rolex watch that was fitted around his wrist. “Nah man, I can’t this time. I got some lady comin’ up to sign some papers for her boss. She picked an odd fucken time too but what can ya say. Business is business.”

Steve flashed Bucky a smirk. “You sure it ain’t some hooker?”

“I’m happily married and have a loving son, you prick. Get outta here!” Bucky grabbed Steve by the shoulder before playfully kicking his rear. “I’m gonna tell Y/N you said that the next time I talk to her.”

“Don’t you fucken dare. She’ll cut off my balls and have me wear it around my neck.” Steve smirked as Buck pushed him out the door and into the hallway.

“Probably shouldn’t have said that, punk.”

“Jerk,” Steve responded with a cheeky grin before biding Bucky a farewell. Shaking his head in amusement, Bucky closed the door once again and took a seat near the fireplace that lit the room with orange and red hues. The warmness brought comfort to him, but not the kind he craved for.

To kill some time, Bucky decided to pour himself a glass of scotch, watching the amber fluid fill the glass and coat the ice. He swirled the content in his glass before leaning against the fireplace and taking a swig, letting the alcohol rest on his tongue before it burned going down his throat.

After about two glasses of scotch, Bucky laid flat on the white couch that settled in the middle of the room in front of the fireplace. Rubbing his eyes with fatigue, he rolled off the sofa deciding the lady wasn’t coming and he should get some sleep. Yet again, a delicate knock was echoed around the room, causing Bucky to groan with frustration. He eyed his watch again, reading 10: 38 p.m. “Fucking Christ.”

The knock was heard again and Bucky quickly fixed himself to a professional matter before grabbing his briefcase from his room. Rushing out, he slicked back his hair and adjusted his collared shirt and tie. He took a deep breath and opened the door with a large smile that quickly faded away.

“Hey there, Bucky.”

“Dolores…” His eyes widened seeing an old flame standing in the hallway with her perfect make-up and revealing dress that displayed more than he wanted to see. She smirked bashfully, biting her lip as she stepped through the threshold, her red fiery pumps gliding with her confidant steps.

“Surprised to see me?” She mockingly grinned.

Bucky stood there in shock before getting a hold of himself.

“How the hell did you find me? I told you I never wanted to see your revolting face ever again.” He growled, stepping forward with his jaw and fists clenched, hoping she’d back out of his suite.

Never did he once put his hands on a woman, and he didn’t want to start now. Memories with Delores flooded his mind. He was stupidly young at the time and miserable, craving for anyone’s attention. She was a cheater who kept him on a leash and was violent. He was sure he’d ever find true love until he met you.

However, Dolores didn’t move a muscle. Not even a flinch, just that bitch resting face that he grew to hate.

“There’s no need to be rude, baby. I came here to sign those papers for my boss. Ya know, that big deal you got outta nowhere. Tell me, how does it feel partnering up with the world’s second-largest dealership company?”

Bucky furrowed his brows in confusion, hearing her bouncy tone as a threat. He cocked his head to the side before chuckling bitterly to himself. It all came together. “You… you had somethin’ to do with this, didn’t you?”

Dolores shrugged her shoulders, making her way to the couch and sat down. “Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. But you should always do your research on your clients before makin’ a deal with them Bucky.” She purred with attitude, leaning down to grab her bag off the floor.

“Not to mention, you should clean up your dirty work thoroughly and get rid of any evidence. Does Y/N know you’re still working for her father? Getting’ your hands dirty again?” She hummed and raised a knowingly brow before pulling out photographs and documents of paper, laying them flat on the glass coffee table for Bucky to see. His phone was tapped, car was wired and was followed by people who took an abundant of photos of Bucky working with your father. Some were even stills of Bucky shooting and disposing bodies into lakes or burning them in the desert.

His eyes grew wide enough to pop out of his skull, fear and guilt rising inside him. He told you he stopped the day you two got engaged, but months later when Bucky didn’t have enough cash, he came back to your father and asked for his job again. They both kept this as a secret from you and agreed to stop if you ever got pregnant.

“I stopped after James was born. Her dad didn’t want to risk my life anymore, so we agreed to stop and put that life behind us… We didn’t want anyone’s life at risk especially with the fact that I am not only the love of his daughter but the father of her child, his grandson, too.” Bucky snarled.  

“I hate to break it to ya Bucky, but your cover-up didn’t work so well for Tony Stark. He’s been on your ass since the day you killed his old man. A vengeful fella and he ain’t gonna stop ‘til you’re down, six feet under. That’s where Mr. Clint Barton has a deal for you.”

“Stark? What the fuck does he have to do with this?” Bucky questioned, his eyes filled with rage, glaring at Dolores.

Rolling her eyes, she strolled over to the bar and poured herself a drink as she spoke, “He’s crazed with taking you down and tried getting Clint to work with you so that he’d take all your money from the profit shares before snatching away every element that makes up your happy life until you’re no more. That includes your little family too.”

“Jesus Christ,” Bucky murmured to himself, rubbing his forehead before dragging his hand down his face. He’s lead himself into the biggest shithole and couldn’t think of a way to get out of it without you finding out. It looked like he didn’t have a choice because either way, he’d be screwed no matter what.

Not only losing your trust but your love for him too.

Dolores eagerly watched Bucky slump into the chair with his arms resting on his thighs, keeping his eyes to the ground. Stress and frustration swayed inside him. It was sickening, but he brought it upon himself if he just listened to you and leave the life you and he hated forever.

“What should I do Dot?” Bucky whispered with sadness, peering at Dolores, his blue lively eyes drained of life and confidence.  Now what was left was pure downfall and regret.

The corners of her mouth curved into a small grin as she tried her best to hide her enthusiasm. Maybe she still had power over Bucky after all the years they’ve been apart. Pouring him a glass of whiskey, she gracefully walked to Bucky, handing him the drink that would affect him in more ways than one before taking a seat on the armrest.

“I suggest you take Clint’s deal and become as powerful and as wealthy as he is. You’ll have all the richest and wouldn’t have to worry about your past anymore. Clint will make sure all the evidence is burned and destroyed. Even paying Stark a visit with connections from your gal’s old man and putting Stark in his place like his father.” She purred in a haunting tone, brushing strands of Bucky’s hair out from his face.  

Bucky tensed from her sudden touch, her affection sending an undesirable chill throughout him. He gawked at the alcohol that rested itself in the crystal glass before downing it all in one gulp. He knew this wasn’t the smartest decision, but he just needed to drown in alcohol. He couldn’t bare his failure.

“Deal… And give me another.”

Dolores smirked, happiness erupting inside her as she slid off the armrest and poured Bucky yet another drink. If she played her cards right, she’d gain Bucky’s trust.  Her malevolent plan was coming to life and all Dolores needed now was Bucky at his lowest. She didn’t want his guard too high up.

She needed him vulnerable.

After some time, Bucky couldn’t think anymore, his mind clouded with illogical thoughts and utter nonsense. He couldn’t even sit up, slouching and going slump against the chair. He reeked of his cologne and alcohol, a stench that wasn’t pleasant at all. The room felt like it was spinning but it gave him the buzz he craved for. Almost like a drug if he said so himself.

“Shit, what time is it?” Bucky’s voice was scratchy as he rubbed his eyes before trying to focus his vision on Dolores’ form as she strolled over to Bucky’s lap.

“It’s pretty late, Buck. You should take me to bed.” She whispered, leaving kisses along his neck and jaw.

“Dot… Stop it. Now.” Bucky said in a stern tone that only made her let out a soft moan.

“Fuck, I forgot how you sounded. It got my panties so wet.”

His cheeks burned red with embarrassment as he tried pushing her off but her delicate touches made him tingly inside, the heavy buzz inside him not helping so much. He could feel his blood rushing throughout his body and every nerve in him told him to stop.

They screamed it.

Your face flashed in front of his eyes, his mind giving him the biggest warning. He could feel his heart aching as his body betrayed him, giving in to lust. Before he could say anything, Dot pushed her straps to her dress and connected her lips with Bucks’. It felt all sorts of wrong yet here he was indulging into something he shouldn’t.

“S-stop. I c-can’t.” Bucky desperately said but it was no use. He grabbed her head, slamming his lips against hers as Dot grind against his bulge. Dolores moaned in response before gasping in shock as Buck hoisted her up and carried her into his room.

Your voice echoed in the back of Bucky’s head, but the alcohol coursing through his veins was more powerful than his gut feeling. No matter what he did now, it didn’t matter. He betrayed you.

He believed in that saying where you’d do anything for the one you loved.

And this was it.

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FIC TAG: @lachicadelamanzana @kerstin-p  @void-imaginations​

(tags for this is open!)

[kissme-hs]

Black Butterflies 6

Hello! how're you doing ? I’m sorry for holding up this part for so long. I haven’t been really well so yeah but now here it is. Hope you like it :)

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Word Count :: 4369

The breath around you was suffocating you as you stayed on the ground on your knees crying. Your hands in a fist pressed up against your chest as you tried to collect yourself as you much as you could. The feeling was terrible. The word, marriage reminded you of all the good times you had while you still were Mrs. Styles but now the circumstances weren’t the same as before. You were a divorced woman with a single parent of two kids. 

Mitch’s word echoed through you ears banging in your brain. He was getting married. He was completely over you. His letter, his words, everything was a lie. You’re relationship with him a lie too. It all was a lie and you poor thing never understood how he did it. How it was easy for him to get over a person he’s been with from a long time where you were still stuck on the same page of your life. Whenever you tried to move forward something always brought you back from where you started.

Though you pretended that you were very strong and were doing fine, you always found yourself in the middle of the night staring at some old photos of you and Harry together. The smile, the adorn face dripping with sweet innocent love the couple shared in the photo made you wonder, question yourself, was it really you and Harry? Did you actually smiled and looked that beautiful? Did your cheeks actually hurt from all the laughter Harry’s joke made you have. Did your lips actually, once used to have a taste of Harry’s raspberry ones?

Your cries became louder as you kept crying on the ground getting weird stares from the strangers passing by but none of them had the courtesy to ask you if you were okay. No doubt humanity was vanished from this world long back. But then you felt two hands pulling you up, encouraging you to stand up on your feet. You turned around without even looking who it was and started sobbing against their chest. It was a lady and her petite arms were rubbing your back. You sniffed and pulled away wiping your tears embarrassingly. 

You inner self calmed down a bit when you were met by blonde hair and a sympathetic look of Gemma. Her own cheeks were strained with tears. Her eyes were dull and her breath calm. She blinked away the tears and reached for your hand that was cold. Your whole body was ice cold. You were sure that if you stayed for a bit in the cold shivering breeze of London, then you would’ve suffered from hypothermia. 

“Cmon, lets get you home” she said rubbing the back of your cold hand with her thumb. Her soft hands were warmed as you look down to see her soothing gesture. Her nails were painted black and her skin looked pale in the grey weather.

Without saying a word, you nodded and followed her inside the car. You buckled the seat belt and stared out of the window as she ignited the engine and started the car. You saw the trees pass by. Tears rolled down from the corned of your eyes, sliding down your cheek tickling the skin. You felt warm air of the heater that Gemma turned on and you decided to break the silence still keeping your gaze on the colorless weather of winter.

“Why’re you crying?” you asked.

“I-idk” she said sniffing. You turned your head to look at her and you could see tears were down her cheek too. You sat up straight and held her hand. You eyes filling up again.

“seeing you crying reminded me of the time when mum and dad divorced, your situation is just like her, weak and vulnerable. I remember how she used to cry alone afraid that we might see and cry too. I couldn’t believe that a strong woman like her could break too but she did. And now all the black faded memories refreshed again. God you’re very strong y/n. I can’t even imagine how you feel right now.” she finished wiping her cheeks with the back of hand.

“Let me tell you, it’s terrible” you said swallowing the saliva in trying to get rid of the lump in your throat. You felt sore and your voice was raspy and heavy.

“Harry always told me how you reminded him of mum. And I-” she laughed sarcastically through tears before continuing.

“I never believed him, but now I realize that he was right. But love, I can see how you’re falling apart and need to be fixed.” She said pulling in front of your house.

“c-come in Gem? Have a cup of tea?” You asked and tried of pass her a small gentle smile.

You vulnerable and petite state filled with so much of pain. Your eyes red and nose puffy, your body drained out of blood and lips that were being forced into a smile. Gemma knew you were broken. With a sob she pulled you in for a hug and cried along you. She rubbed your back as you too let your emotions flow. You clutched her coat tightly and cried in it.

“go talk to him” she said and your breath hitched.

“what?” you said amused. She really said that. Harry was the least person you wanted to see that time.

“babe, i know you’re hurt and probably don’t even wanna see him but believe me, you need to have a talk to him.” She said and you nodded before getting out of her car and walking inside of your house. You knew the you acted extremely rude and cold but you also knew that she understood it. 

***

You laid awake in bed not being able to sleep. The memories once again haunted you and tears dried up now, now tears left in your body to cry. They drained out. You got up from the bed and walked to the open window. Cold wind roaring in the night. You white curtains blowing up with the wind. You padded on the ice cold wooden floor and sat on the window frame that was big enough for you to sit on it. You picked up the photo frame that you had preserved from a long time. You turned it and saw it was a picture of you and harry the minute after you both got married. Though there wasn’t any point in saving the things that only hurt you but you did. It was something you wanted to cherish forever not matter what the situation was.

You were smiling so wide in the photo and Harry’s raspberry lips put in a out and wide big green eyes. His beautiful face was enlightened up with golden sun rays of 5 pm and arms around your neck.

“Finally!” You breathed out as Harry held you in his arms walking down the aisle after kissing you , sealing his wedding with a ‘I do’. Your veil hanging down, covering harry’s arms partially. Everyone's eyes glued to you both adoringly but you were already somewhere in your own bubble. Your giggled filling his ears as he  carried you outside. 

“yes volley!!” he said and spin you around. The sweet scent of lavenders filled with the flowery fragrance of spring made you happier than ever. You were married and your dream was a reality now. 

He set you down softly on your feet and cupped your face. His eyes fixed on yours. You to glistened in the golden light. You white dress shone and your face looked angelic. His eyes filled with tears as he brought your face to his and rest his forehead against your yours. His thumb rubbed the apple of your flushed cheeks. His breath fanning upon your lips.

“god I can’t believe it” he breathed out. 

“So can’t I. But baby we are married!!!” you squealed pulling away holding his hands that cupped your cheeks. He chuckled and leaned in to kiss you. His soft lips tasted delicious and his tongue worked amazingly upon yours. His hands around your waist gripping the skin and pulling your close. You both were busy in each other when you heard Gemma chirped.

“do what you want in the night. but right now, smile for the camera.” you turned around and saw er holding the camera. Instantly Harry wrapped his arm around your neck and the other around your waist, pulling your to his chest.

“I can’t wait to make love to you already.”

“ohh shh. Smile now” you giggled elbowing him, hearing a ‘ouch’ from him before smiled for your sister in law who stood holding the camera for you both.

A tear drop fell on the acrylic glass covering the photo as you went back in the flashback of the time when you both exchanged your ‘I do’s’. A sob left past your lips as your muffled it with your hand. There was a lot of questions that needed to be answered. You realized that what Harry was doing wasn’t healthy. You could feel it. You knew deep down, that Harry too didn’t wanted to get married. Or maybe that was just another wrong gut feeling.

***

You took a deep breath walking up the porch of the huge huge house of Harry. You heart was beating, thumping loudly. You legs were trebling as your pulled the coast tightly around your body fighting the freezing flurry of air mixed with small, feathery snow falls. Small cotton like snow rested upon your hair as you knocked on the hard wooden door.

“open up” yo u mumbled to self and oped that he’d open up soon. You fiddled with the rings on your finger. You still had it on. Your wedding ring.

“hey” your head shot up from your hand and you saw Harry standing in black sweatpants and a grey tee. His hair done neatly and fluffy. His face shaved and a warming smile on his face. You felt like a candle lit inside of you warming you up, the cold breeze long forgotten the moment you saw his face. Your inner self lightened up but your heart ached. Ached with the realization of how happy he actually was.

“uh hey” you said smiling a bi, rubbing your sides.

“come inside” he stepped aside a bit so that you could walk inside. Home. You were home. After months you were home.The house still smelt the same. Vanilla and cinnamon. Everything was same except the person inside it.

You smiled to self staring at the house that you and Harry both decorated together with love and made the empty house of four walls a home.

“Felling home?” he asked.

Home.

“uh yeah. Just brings a lot of memories of kids and-” you stopped not wanting to say further. The huge house was silent. Probably because Kristine wasn’t home or you thought so.

“ And....?” Harry asked clearly aware of what you wanted to say and he wanted to hear that.

“and us” you finished and looked away. You eyes were already flooded wit tears. All that you’ve done this year was cry. Cry all the time and you were fucking sick of it. You wanted to live again and smile again. You wanted to love again and to be loved again.

You turned around to face hi, when you were replied with nothing but complete and utter silence.

“Is it true that you’re getting married?” you asked. You voice a mixture of angst and pain. You eyes were red and tired. Harry turned his head, keeping his gaze on the ground. Once again complete silence.

And weren’t here for the silence. Gripping his harm, you turned him around harshly.

“tell  me Harry! answer me” your voice raised. You searched on his face, his eyes for an answer but got nothing. His face was completely blank. His eyes were dropping down. You let his arm go when you accepted the reality. All this time you were hoping for it to be a some kind of a joke but Harry’s silence said it all.

You fumbled back and sat on the couch. Tears breaking through your eyes and you felt numb. Wholly numb. Unavailable to feel more pain. You wanted to die. Die because of the pain you got that wasn’t even deserved by you.

Your limbs fell to your eyes and heart stopped beating for a second before you broke into a fist of cries. Your loud cries echoed through the house as you cried. You were a felling a lot of pain and it wasn’t fair to you. Whatever was coming wasn’t fair for you. You chest was heavy as you clutched you tee in a fist. Your emotions were breaking through their wall.

“oh my god no no” Harry came rushing to you and pulled you to his chest. Your nostrils filled up with his mustard scent, you skin burned with his touch. But you cared less, you wanted to burn. You wrapped your arms around him and cried in his chest. You felt like home but a home filled with thrones that only caused you pain.

‘why” you cried. You tears damping his grey tee and you felt his own tears on the top of your head. You wanted nothing more but to die in his arms crying. His huge hands rubbing the small back of yours. He placed his head on top of yours, with his cheeks resting on your head rocking your bodies. He knew you were hurting and seeing you cry wasn’t hurting him less.

“shhh i’m sorry” he whispered pecking your hairline. His tears slide down his cheeks and dropped on your hair as he spoke.

“you can’t! You can’t get married while i still love you! I am always gonna love you” you shouted in his chest. You wanted to punch him for doing this. You wanted to scream out loud and cry and cry but isn’t that what you’ve been actually doing from past time?

“what?” Harry asked pulling away to have a look of your face. You hair were sticking to your wet face and eyes were red and puffy.

“i love you harry” you whispered cupping his face but he stood up and looked away not believing your words.

“no you can’t you don’t” he groaned pulling on his hair in frustration.

“you can’t just come and say this not when I’m gonna get married soon.” he said you heard his voice cracked a bit at the end. You walked to him and stood in front of him. His eyes held a broken emotion.

“say that you love me” you pleaded.

“please Harry” you cried hoping he would return the words that you  craved for. 

“I don’t. I love Kristine and I am marrying her Y/n” he said blankly. His lips could lie words but his eyes, they were the most pure thing ever, they never lied. You saw the expression his eyes had. The truth was to be told but he wasn’t willing to. You turned on your heels and started walking towards the door.

“I hope you’ll come to wish me luck and will be a part of the wedding” he spoke through tears. You squeezed your eyes shut trying to hold on the water and ran out as fast as you could.

Harry’s tall, lanky body fell on the ground on his knees as soon as you left his house. Only he knows how he tried to hold those three words back. How he wanted to scream it to the world, how much he loved you. He wanted to hold you their forever and kiss you and make it right. He wanted to call his kids home and apologize to them for being a bad daddy and spoil them rotten. He wanted to sleep on one bed with his family. He wanted to have those sunday special raosts

He wanted to say it all. He wanted to feel it all but he was helpless. Helpless because the girl he thought he loved was evil. She threatened him how she’d go to the police and file a case against him if he don’t marry her and take responsibility of her and the baby that he made with her. 

He regretted all what happened. He wished she could go back the night he decided to cheat on you and instead talked to you. Only if that all could happen.

But it was too late.

“mommy why aren’t you coming?” Rose asked as you crouched in front of her and wrapped her pink muffler around her neck.

“Because mommy has work” you said holding back your sadness. 

Today was the day. Harry was getting married. He sent you an invitation just the day after you talked to him, more like cried to him. You hands trembled as you held the wedding invitation. How were you suppose to attend the wedding of the person you had yourself to? How were you suppose to collect yourself and go to the wedding. You couldn’t. That’s why you decided to send the kids with Anne to the wedding. Kids were not happy with the fact that his father was marrying someone whom they never liked. But for you they were going. You asked them so it for you and promised them, after this you’ll move to the States, away from Harry. Far away.

“i love you mommy. There is no one like you” Rose said rubbing your cheeks softly with her hands.You smiled and took her small hands in yours and kissed the palm of it.

“I love you too Rose bud. Now go and have fun. Take care of Noah yeah?” You said and pecked her forehead. The sound of the front door bell snapped your head as you saw Noah running to open it. You giggled and walked to the door lifting him up and setting on your hip.

“nana’s here” you announced opening the door. Anne smiled at you wearing a beautiful cream dress and a blue coat over it.

“hello darling” she said coming inside and engulfing you in a motherly hug. Noah smiled and reached towards her and Anne obliged his wish taking him in her arms.

“ready to go?” he asked him and rose who walked to you both and hugged Anne’s leg. Her face was sad. Putting Noah down, she crouched to be face to face with her and rubbed her chin with her thumb.

“what’s wrong baby??”

“I don’t want him to get married” she said and her chin wobbled. At such a young age, she experienced the most sensitive topics and matured a lot. Anne’s face softened and tears filled in eyes of both of you and hers.

“it’s gonna be okay. Remember I told you how strong god is and how we should always trust him?” Anne said and rose hugged her. Her baby cheeks dressed against on her shoulder, squished on the blue coat. 

“everything happens for a reason” Rose mumbled finishing up what Anne told her. Being a grandmother she always tried to tie the kids with good manners and important aspects of life and it was one of them. She always told Rose how everything has a reason behind it and not in a very matured way but in a way that her 5 year old self could understand.

“That’s m’girl. Now go and wear your shoes.” Anne said pulling away,letting the girl go and wear her pink sandals.

“you doing good sweetheart??” Anne asked.

“Yeah. These kids are my everything and I am happy with what I have right now.” you said honestly. Rose and Noah were the only thing you had after harry and you had to make them your strength.

“You’re so strong darling, god is not being fair to you” she said pecking your forehead. You heart warmed up with her motherly gesture.

“i know mum”

“but good days are gonna come sweetheart” she said before pecking your forehead once again and leaving you alone in the house. You were once again met with complete silence.

***

Your feet carried you inside of the huge church. St Paul’s Cathedral. One of the most beautiful churches in London and the place where you and Harry exchanged your vows. The walls of the church brought back a lot of memories from your wedding day. The day you were finally his.You sat down on your knees and joining your hand together. You checked your watch, it was half past 4 PM and you knew Harry was married by now. 

Your cheeks wobbled thinking of what he must’ve said to her. You were anxious to know about that. You wanted to know whom he loved more. You or her. Obviously her. If he loved you enough then he wouldn't have left you at the first place. You breathed in and exhaled trying to stable your shivering self. 

God’s place is the place where a man comes after all of his hopes are dead and that’s what you did. You had no idea why you were there but you just were. You wanted to plead to him to stop playing around with you and make this nightmare go away. It was lat already. He was a married man now and you had no right to have eyes on a person who’s already married. At least that’s what your parents taught you, never to wreck someone’s house.

“I hope he’s happy” you said. Tears rolled down your cheeks and rested on your lips. You could taste the salty water in your mouth as you spoke.

“I trust you god But I deserve an explanation. I know I am no one to question your will, but I am hurting. Oh lord I am hurting bad” you cried in your hands. 

“Please make it right. Please” you pleaded and snapped your head back when a squeal caught your attention. It sounded like Noah’s. You got up and turned to face the end of the aisle and there he came running. He ran to you and clutched to your leg, followed by rose.

You furrowed your eyebrows and looked down at them.

“babies... what’re you doing here? Where’s nana?” You asked rubbing the back of Noah’s head who happily kept latching on your leg.

“mommy look!” rose exclaimed and pointed to where they came. You broke your gaze from them and looked up. Your eyes widen and breath sucked from your lungs when you saw harry walking towards you. You thought you were dreaming.

Rose pulled Noah back to her and you walked towards him. He looked gorgeous, dressed in  a black tuxedo and hair pushed back perfectly. His face looked beautiful and his lips kissable. He stopped when he reached to you and took in the beauty of your face.

Your hair were in a lose ponytail and few strands of hair falling down your face. You eyes big and cheeks flushed. Your hair had some snowflakes on them probably due to the snowfall outside. You looked so cozy and cuddly wrapped up in his sweater. He reached out and brushed off the white snow off your hair.

“y-you didn't got married?” you asked looking at him with gobsmacked wide eyes.

“nah” he said scrunching up his nose and shook his head.

“loved someone else dearly much”he said. A wave of life ran through your body and you jumped on him wrapping your arms around his neck. You couldn’t feel alive anymore. You felt like you heart was lighted up and it started working again. All the jammed nerves cleared out rushing blood through your body.

You pulled away and looked at admired him. You missed this man standing upon you.

“she wasn’t pregnant baby. It was trick of hers to make me marry her. Thanks to god I found out the last minute” he said and exhaled breath of relief.

"How'd you find me?"

"This was our place. Thought to have a look. Wanted to talk to Jesus as well but i guess now i dont have to"

Your face was glowing up with love as you tried to absorb the happiness. 

“I’m so sorry I-” harry stuttered only to be cut of by you pressing your lips against his. His arms wrapped immediately around your waist as his lips kissed your with all they had. His tears resting on your lips as he pulled away the moment of love. You were breathing.

He knelt down on one knee and held your hand in his. Your eyes filling up with pride and love.

“will you marry me again? I promise to love you and cherish you and fix all the mistakes I’ve made in past” he spoke. His eyes hoping for a eyes that they got when you nodded your head and he pulled you in for a tight hug. Your body melting in his arms.

“I’m so sorry. I Promise I won’t do it again. I can’t lose you again.I don’t wanna be dead again” harry spoke against your forehead. You kept your face pressed in against his chest. You pulled away this time and hit his arm.

“well I’m glad you came home” you giggled through tears making him smiles. Both of you head turning when you heard a small sniff. There Rose stood holding Noah to her wiping her tears. She was happy to see her parents back together.

“come here bubba” Harry said getting down on his knees opening his arms. Both of the kids ran and hugged their father for the first time in months. Harry’s eyes crying tears that showed how much happy he was as he embraced his little loves in a fatherly hug.

“god I missed y’all” he said and you knelt joining their hug.

“So did we”

Alas everything was okay. Black butterflies were gone replaced with sparkle and love.

Here I wrap up the series and conclude it with love. Thank y’all for supporting me. Hope you enjoyed. Don’t forget the feedback.

Ria xx

[theunseeliemperoress]

Nanowrimo Day 1: Don’t take sweets from number 36.

I was supposed to write this on Halloween but I never got round to it so here you go. 

(It's pretty long) Word count: 2′078

Don’t take sweets from number 36. That’s what all the grownups would say every year at Halloween. Number 36 is where the Pratt’s live. Or at least everyone thinks they live. No one’s seen them for years. The windows are so covered in grime no one can see through and the garden path is so covered in weeds it is hidden from sight. All year long the door is firmly locked only to be opened on Halloween. 

Meint, Tzivah and Melissa had all grown up hearing that same phrase every year. It was honestly getting tired, especially as whenever they asked why their parent’s wouldn’t answer. In fact none of the grownups would say anything about it. Which lead to kids coming up with their own ideas of why they were meant to stay away from house 36. Some said the Pratt’s poisoned their sweets. Others say they died and their ghosts continue to haunt their old house. The three friends were determined to find out the truth, and this year they would. This was the first year they were old enough to go Trick or Treating without their parents. They all met at Meint’s house where their parents were planning on spending the evening drinking and talking while they waited for the kids to return. At 5:46pm the three said goodbye to their parents and left. Melissa was wearing a blouse and a dark skirt and vampire fangs, with a bit of fake blood dribbling down her cheek. Meint had put even less effort into his costume. Wearing his own clothes, his older brothers worn bomber jacket and one of those plain looking mask they sell for children to decorate. He felt he was a little too old for Halloween and was only coming along because he knew where they were going. Tzivah had put the most effort into his costume. While the clothes were nothing special, just jeans and a torn over sized jumper with his hiking boots. He had gotten his stepsister, who was a makeup artist for the local theatre group, to do his makeup. It had taken all day but when she was done it looked horrifying. She had made it look as if his mouth had been carved into a one sidded smile and added a fake scar over his right eye. She had even given him a coloured contact lens from her collection which made that eye look dead. Lastly she painted burn scars on the left side of his body. Staring at his neck and shoulder and ending at his hand and upper back. They started walking down the street knocking on any houses that were decorated; they had learnt not to bother with undecorated houses. A few people slammed the door in their faces when they saw three teenagers standing on their doorstep though most were friendly. Eventually they reached number 36. For what seemed like forever the three stood staring at the front door not daring to approach. ‘So...’ Meint began. ‘Who wants to knock?’ The other two took a rather exaggerated step backwards. ‘Seriously?’ ‘Well you did ask.’ Tzivah signed. Melissa nodded in agreement. Meint rolled his eyes, not that they could see behind his mask, and turned to face the house again. He took a deep breath and began to make his way up the path. Taking large exaggerated steps to avoid tripping over the plants that caked the paving slabs. When he reached the front door he looked back to see his two friends were close behind. Taking a deep breath he raised his hand and began knocking, nothing. ‘Try opening it.’ Tzivah signed. ‘Thanks genius. I was going to start looking for a hidden panel.’ Tzivah stuck out his tongue. ‘Boys.’ Melissa warned. Meint reached for the handle and twisted it. There was a loud click as it swung open with ease. He looked back at the other two before stepping inside, taking care not to step on any rotting floor boards that might give way beneath them. The walls were caked in mould and the furniture sat caked in dust, faces stared back at them through cobwebs that had been spun over photo frames. ‘Hello.’ Melissa called. There was no response. Meint gestured for them to follow him and made his way down the hall. They crept into the first room. A decent sized living room with two armchairs facing a slightly old fashioned TV set. In the corner by the window was an old sewing machine, a piece of fabric still sat under the needle, the pattern completely lost to time. ‘Nothing.’ Melissa said. The boys nodded in agreement. They moved on to the next room. It was a kitchen with a small table and two chairs sat in the middle. A bowl sat in the middle of the table filled with a fowl smelling liquid they knew was rotten fruit. ‘Check the fridge.’ Tzivah signed. Meint walked over to the fridge and pulled it open, only to jump back when the smell or rotting meat hit his nose. It was all he could do not to vomit on the spot. ‘Gross!’ Melissa shrieked. ‘Well what did you expect?’ Meint muttered. The other two giggled nervously. ‘Look this is stupid let’s go.’ Tzivah shook his head. ‘We should check upstairs.’ Tzivah signed. ‘We might find some corpses.’ Melissa pulled a face. ‘You’re gross Tzivah Fine we’ll check upstairs. Then we’re leaving.’ The other two nodded and they headed up the stairs. The first door opened into a bathroom, not very interesting, so they moved on to the next room. ‘Nursery.’ Melissa gasped when she saw what was in the room. It was indeed a nursery. Meint’s torch light fell across a wooden cradle that sat in the middle of the room. He moved it to illuminate a shelf full of stuffed toys and figurines. In the corner of the room sat a large grey teddy almost as big as them, though they suspected it used to be white. Tzivah stepped into the room and made his way over to the cradle. Peering inside he could see the blankets were placed neatly, the name Miela sewn into the bottom of the blanket in flowery lettering. He was about to reach in for the teddy, that lay on its face on the pillow when he heard a noise. Quickly he turned to his left towards the noise, his friends doing the same. They all stared as a infants toy lit up and began to play a tune similar to Mary, Mary quite contrary, if the nursery rhyme was played at half speed by someone playing an instrument designed to mock a xylophones pleasant tones. ‘Look.’ Melissa gasped pointing to the cradle. Tzivah jumped back in horror when he saw it was moving, rocking from side to side. Not in as if he’d knocked it, but as if someone had a hand on it and was gently moving in side to side. He began to walk backwards hurriedly. Creak! He froze. There was a pause before he a sound like a crying infant filled the room. He turned to face his friends who looked at him with identical expressions of horror. The expression only grew when they heard movement from the next room. Without missing a beat the three of them bolted down the stairs. Tzivah raced after his friends out the front door. He had nearly got away when he found himself flying through the air before smacking his face on the ground. He looked up to see his friends had gone. ‘Oh dear are you ok?’ He looked around to see an elderly lady standing in the doorway. ‘Oh I hope we didn’t scare you kids too badly.’ She smiled at him. ‘Here you dropped your sweets.’ She held out his bucket of sweets. ‘Thanks’ he signed cautiously making his way over to her. ‘Oh dear can you not hear?’ she asked. He shook his head and tapped his lips. ‘Oh you’re mute.’ Tzivah nodded. ‘Well I hope your friends will be ok. We pull this little prank every year though no one’s reacted as badly as you three.’ He took the bucket and gave her a thumbs up, hoping she’d understand what it meant. She walked back into her house closing the door behind her as he made his way back down the path, this time a little more cautiously. Once he was through the front gate he bolted down the street to catch up with his friends. It didn’t take him long to find them. ‘Where have you been?’ Mient half asked half demanded. ‘Worried.’ Melissa added in agreement. Tzivah explained everything to them. ‘You mean this whole thing was a prank by two old people.’ ‘Seems so.’ Mient let out a groan of exasperation. ‘So it was all for nothing.’ ‘No.’ Melissa cried. ‘Good scare.’ The two boys grinned, it was a good scare. ‘Wonder how they did it?’ Tzivah signed. The others shrugged they had no clue.

That same evening after his dad had walked him home Tzivah sat in the living room counting out his sweets. He had a couple of packets of Haribo, some lollypops, a chocolate bar, a lozenge for some weird reason, a couple of candy bracelets and two red sweets in semi transparent wrapping, the kind grannies seem to carry around despite the fact you never see them in the shops. Weird he thought, I don’t remember getting these. They must be from the Pratt’s. He unwrapped one and popped it in his mouth. They were his favourites after all. As he sucked he began to feel dizzy. Wow I’m more tired than I thought. He stood up and headed for the door. ‘You ok Ziv?’ his older half brother asked. ‘Yeah.’ He signed. ‘Just going to bed.’ ‘Ok cool. Hey can I have your candy bracelets?’ ‘Sure.’ He turned and left. But instead of walking up the stairs like he’d intended he found himself walking into the kitchen. What was going on!? He tried to stop but he just kept walking. As if he was being controlled by some unseen force he made his way to the cupboard under the sink. He beant down and picked up a bottle of some cleaning product. He couldn’t see what it was but he saw the words highly flammable. Crying at this point he twisted the lid off and poured the liquid onto his neck and shoulder. He was trying desperately to open his mouth to scream for help but his jaw wouldn’t move. Shaking he put down the bottle and picked up a knife that sat on the draining board. Please no, he thought. He saw the knife coming for him. Pain erupted across his face as he thrust it into his face and dragged it down across his eye. Screaming through clenched teeth he carved one side of his mouth. Sobbing and shaking violently by now he reached for his dads lighter and held it to his shirt sleeve. The flammable liquid went up in a flash drenching him in fire. Almost that same second whatever was stopping him from moving released him. Tzivah opened his mouth and let out the loudest scream ever to come from his mouth. His brother came rushing in closely followed by his dad and stepsister. ‘What happened!? What’s going... Oh shit!’ His dad yelled when he saw the state of his youngest child. ‘Get on the floor now! Vijay fill that pan with water and pour it on him! Acacia call an ambulance. The two older kids rushed to do as they were told putting the fire out as quickly as possible. Tzivah lay on the floor sobbing in pain. ‘Shh it’s ok Ziv.’ His brother shushed him. ‘You’ll be ok. Just...’ he looked up at their dad. ‘Tell him dad. Tell him he’ll be ok.’ ‘You went to number 36 didn’t you?’ the two boys stared at him. Children who eat sweets from number 36 always get hurt like this.’ ‘How?’ Vijay snapped. Their dad sat down and began smoothing Tzivah’s hair. ‘No one knows. The only reason we don’t tell you kids is because you wouldn’t believe us. It’s easier to just say because I said so.’ The three sat there in the kitchen listening to the sound of sirens approaching Tzivah sobbing loudly. At least his friends didn’t take any sweets from that old witch.

[n3rdlif343va]

Hey chicka... I got a prompt... *Clears throat* It's the first day of class, Yuuri a junior is terribly late and on top of it all it's raining like a bitch outside. He's standing under an awning waiting for the rain to hopefully let up... He fills a body sidle up next to him... Viktor a senior stands there with an umbrella... They've never talked but maybe Viktor is finally getting the chance to talk to yuuri and possibly walk him to class... I love you're writing amigo...

You are adorable and I LOVE you! This drabble got away from me.. to the tune of 1,800 words. I hope you like it!

VICTOR’S LUCK

The French call it “unecoup de foudre”; a clap of thunder or lightning strike. We call it “Loveat first sight”. The Spirit calls it  ”the meeting of soul mates”. When youare ready to find your one true love will you know him? Will there be somethingabout him that you feel like you have known forever? Or will you disregard thefeeling of “love at first sight” as a joke? The Spirit says there is oneperfect companion for each person. This soul mate has known you beforeand waits for you now. It may have been many lives ago but your souls havestrived to find each other through the years. Finding each other will make youboth complete. –SirCheo

The air was still and stifling as the atmosphere heldits breath, ready to unleash the full power of the dark rain clouds at anymoment. Once tumultuous, the leaves paused in stoic silence, suspended withimpending doom from their equally stagnant branches. The world stood waiting,on the edge of being broken by the predicted downfall, as Victor stepped fromthe front of his rented townhouse. Glancing toward the sky, he hooked hisumbrella in the crook of his elbow, locking his door and skipping down thefront steps.

Rain in the early spring wasn’t a surprise, althoughthe storm that was building over the college campus had all the promises ofbeing far more severe than anything they normally experienced. But Victor had afinal to attend, the second to last in his college career, and he was eager toput literary journalism behind him. 

Humming to himself, Victor moved without thinking overthe familiar paths, letting small memories of the past four years slip throughhis conscious mind. Inadequate attempts at touch football had taken place inthe field to his left. To his right were the trees where he had pretended tostudy for most of his freshman year. In front of him were the academicbuildings, filled with rooms that handed out torture masked as college credits.And a little to the left of those buildings was the place that he had firstlaid eyes on the love of his life.

Brown eyes, scared and darting over the campus like achipmunk waiting to be pounced by a fox, had captivated Victor and led him to avery painful bruise to the temple from a flying hacky sack. The mop of blackhair had stuck out in every direction imaginable, while the blue-rimmed glassessat cockeyed on the boy’s nose. Victor had abandoned his friends in the middleof the football game, accidentally throwing the football directly into Sara’sstomach in his lust-blind haze. He had been a mere ten feet away from hisfuture spouse when another boy had swooped in, all smiles and dark hair anddragged the future love of his life away from Victor’s field of vision.

For three years, Victor had spied the same boy throughoutcampus in the worst game of Where’s Waldo that he had ever played. Over time hehad learned that his obsession’s name was Yuuri Katsuki. He had scrawled it onhis review notes for calculus and throughout the pages of his well-loved copyof The Twelfth Night. It was a beautiful name; foreign and easy to roll histongue around, much like he imagined the boy to be.

Fate had been a fickle mistress though and Victor hadbeen throttled at every turn. Yuuri had zero existence in the social media world,not even creating a campus profile beyond his name and his adorably awkward IDphoto. Victor had screenshotted that photo, sometimes looking at it andimagining their life together. There would be poodles and kisses and romanticdeclarations every second of every day. Yuuri was poetic and romantic, Victorjust knew it.

Although he didn’t actually know it, because no matterwhat he had tried, it had been three years of failed attempts. Yuuri had been astep ahead of him, a step behind him, or on the other side of a sea of people.Just as happened on the first day, there was always someone there, whiskingYuuri away moments before Victor could reach him. It would go down as Victor’sbiggest collegiate regret, taking the top spot over the night he mixed tequila,expired burritos, and rimming.

Shaking his head at his own misfortune, Victorflinched as the first rain drop hit his cheek. Opening his umbrella, hecontinued across the campus as the storm began to unfold.

Yuuri was late, because he was always late for classeshe hated. And Yuuri hated no class more than he hated philosophy 200. Sittingthrough an hour of pretentious students making pretentious observations aboutsomeone else’s pretentious thoughts was surely the work of the devil himself.Jogging down the steps of his apartment building, he threw himself out of theheavy front door. Concerned immediately furrowed his brow as Yuuri looked atthe ominously full clouds hanging with dark threat over his head. There was noway he had time to go back for an umbrella and he said a silent pray for thestorm to wait the ten minutes needed for him to get to class.

Seven minutes letter, Mother Nature delivered him avengeful FU and threw rain down from the heavens in angry buckets. Yuuri dodgedunder the nearest awning, shivering with his arms wrapped tightly over hischest. The sudden downpour brought with it a drop in temperature and Yuuricould feel the cold settling into the core of his bones. Leaning back againstthe Plexiglas, Yuuri watched as the world began to drown, convinced he would haveto ride out the storm from the safety of the small bus stop.

The world was a blur of rushing water as Victor forcedhis feet forward. His cell phone had beeped in his pocket, but he didn’t dareto stop and check it, as the driving rain would easily be the final death ofhis lifeline. Glancing from under the lip of his umbrella, in a desperateattempt to judge the remaining distance to the salvation of the liberal artsbuilding, he spied a familiar flop of dark hair huddled underneath the campusbus stop. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Victor changed his direction. Hisfinal wasn’t for another hour, and fate waited for no man.

It took him a solid two minutes to reach the openingof the sheltered bus stop, his eyes continually surveying the surrounding area.Outside of someone apparating directly in front of Yuuri to steal him away,there was no one around to interfere this time. Victor swallowed hard, slippingunder the cover and into the personal space of the man he had been trying tomeet for three years.

Yuuri’s eyes were closed, breathing through thebuilding anxiety of missing his class. There was no final, but each classdiscussion accumulated the bulk of their grades and Yuuri couldn’t afford tomiss the points he would gain for his well-rehearsed absolutely bullshittalking points. In the fog of his panic, he vaguely noted the temperaturechange inside of his shelter, startling when the presence of a warm body wasclose enough for him to feel heated breath on his ear. Opening his eyes, Yuurifound himself face-to-face with the blue eyes that haunted all of his dreams.Even frizzy with the static of his umbrella, the silver locks looked soft andextremely touchable. The breath caught in Yuuri’s throat as the man he hadsecretly longed for during his entire time at school stood a breathe away fromhim.

A clap of thunder sounded so loudly, they both jumped.Crashing into each other as they spontaneously wrapped together, falling hard againstthe metal beam in the corner of their three-walled shelter. Peering down,Victor stared into Yuuri’s eyes as they remained pressed together. “Hi, I’mVictor,” he breathed the words, feeling the constriction of his heart in hischest. He had imagined this moment in so many ways, none of comparing to theridiculously beautiful accident that had brought Yuuri directly into his arms.

“You’re crushing me!” Yuuri squeaked, feelingdisappointment in himself as Victor startled, relinquishing his hold on Yuuriand standing straight.

“I’m sorry!” Victor blushed, tucking his umbrella intohis elbow again and awkwardly losing all of his words. The Yuuri in hisimagination would have kissed him immediately, instead, this Yuuri was staringat him wide-eyed making Victor convinced that he had blown his one and onlychance.

“It’s ok, it was…” Yuuri flushed bright red, the wordsgetting stuck on his tongue, “it wasn’t bad! I was cold anyway, so…” WhenVictor continued to stare at him, Yuuri stuck out his hand in an offered handshake. “Um… I’m Yuuri. Nice to meet you!” His voice was pitched higher than apre-pubescent boy with his nuts in a vice. Smooth was never a word that hadbeen associated with him, and it looked like that trend was going to continue.

Victor didn’t look at Yuuri’s hand as he slid his tomeet it. His eyes were trained directly on Yuuri’s leaning closer when anotherloud clap of thunder shook the world around them. Victor jumped and promptlyhead-butted Yuuri in the forehead.

Rubbing his head, Yuuri looked up to the blue eyesagain and let the laughter fall. He had practiced meeting Victor in a millionways, none of them involving potential concussions and full-body tackles. Thiswas better than anything he had dreamt up and Yuuri let his laughter minglewith Victor’s, loving the way they harmonized in the sound.

Around them, the storm began to quiet, rolling thundera persistent sound instead of a clapping force. The rain drizzled from the sky,settling to a light pitter patter. Looking out from under the cover, Victoropened his umbrella. “Can I walk you to wherever you are headed, Yuuri?” Heoffered his hand on instinct, not even bothering to question why he thought itwas a good idea.

“Well, I have probably missed class,” Yuuri lethimself be pulled under Victor’s umbrella, feeling the press of Victor’s handagainst his own. It was so much better than he had imagined.

Remembering his phone, Victor passed the umbrella toYuuri’s free hand and retrieved the device from his pocket. The text from his professorto the class told him that class had been cancelled and the final would takeplace in two days. Smiling, he let the phone fall back into his pocket. “Thelights are out in the liberal arts building so no class for me either. Howabout I treat you to a coffee?”

“Coffee would be nice,” Yuuri smiled softly as Victortugged him closer. Their hips bumped together as they started down the path andaway from their shelter. “Victor?” Yuuri waited until Victor hummed inresponse, “is your umbrella covered in poodles?”

“Yes,” Victor smirked, “in case it rains cats anddogs.” They both laughed at Victor’s terrible joke, moving in step with oneanother as they headed over the concrete path.

All around them, the thunder continued to roll.

[roreomarsh-blog]

TRUTH HURTS → romarsh

TAGGED→ Rory Marshall feat. Dr. Katherine Hillard

DATE/TIME→ Sunday, January 29th

LOCATION→ Command (Beneath Bay Ridge, Brooklyn)

NOTES→  The one where Rory can’t stop obsessing over the footage from the night at the island and makes a startling discovery. 

Lorde’s Glory and Gore blared through the speakers, reverberating through the open space and traveling across it’s canvas. Video footage from the island played on loop between two distanced poles, like a hologram, its sound drowned out by the music’s deafening tone. Rory sat there in silence, eyes wide and unblinking as they flitted across the screen in search of clues. 

“Come on, I know you’re there...” She grumbled, rubbing her already red eyes with one hand and zooming in on a frame with the other. She’d been through it so many times by now that she had the dialogue memorized. Sawyer’s pleas were engraved in her mind forever while Griffin’s howls of pain haunted her dreams — or at least they would if she had been sleeping. 

“Show yourself,” she demanded, knowing full well that he wouldn’t. Griffin’s camera jostled from inside of his pocket and clattered to the ground, revealing nothing but a black boot and a flash of dark light. What followed was cave wall. “Fuck you,” her face contorted in anger. With a sharp swipe of the screen, she left CAMERA G for CAMERA R and sighed. If only she had kept the camera in hand instead of stuffing it into her pocket like a noob. 

“Rory?” Dr. Hillard’s usually soft tone carried over the noise. 

“What?” she snapped, unwilling to look away. The screen was dark, but she kept her eyes fixed, thinking it might somehow change. 

“Rory, look at me.” She rested a hand gently on Rory’s shoulders.

“I’m busy,” she refused, gritting her teeth in irritation. “This is what you wanted, remember? I’m doing the work, now let me.” 

Clenching her jaw, Katherine bit her tongue and reached over her to pinched the screen closed. “D.E.C.A, stop. This sound level is atrocious.” 

“Hey!” Rory whirled around from her chair. 

“Ending Glory and Gore, by singer/songwriter LORDE, now.”

“Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome, Katherine. It appears that Rory is extremely unpleasant today. Tread lightly.”

“Fuck off,” Rory rolled her eyes. 

“I am not capable of this action.” 

Rory opened her mouth to retaliate, but Katherine cut her off. “Listen,” she coaxed, sitting the plate she had prepared for Rory onto the counter and crouching. The bags forming beneath Rory’s eyes were alarming, but still, Kat smiled. “I am happy to have you here for as long as you wish to stay, but you need to eat. And from the looks of it, you could use some sleep too. Why don’t you take one of the beds in the quarters? I promise the video will still be here when you get back,” she sympathized.

“Thank you for the food,” she took reluctantly grabbed the sandwich and took a large bite. “Happy now?”

Resigning, Katherine pursed her lips and stood. She recognized that headstrong persistence. At this rate, she’d be carrying her to the ranger’s quarters. “Let me know if you need anything,” she offered sweetly. 

 “You’ve done enough,” Rory forced a derisive smile. 

When she walked away, Rory returned to the screen and tapped it once to activate. “D.E.C.A., load CAMERA B.” 

“Showing CAMERA B now,” the robotic assistant announced. The footage loaded, and Rory slumped as Bianca began to rattle off her goodbye message. It was scary to think about how much she had almost needed that. Rory leaned back against the chair, allowing her eyes to drift back to the sandwich. She reached for it and took another stubborn bite. 

Bianca’s footage was the most interesting apart from Griffin’s. Once they rushed through the cabin, things went dark, but Griffin’s camera wasn’t the only one that had gotten shaken up in their dash to save him. Rory could only assume that she had been searching for her phone, but by some mistake, the camera had gotten turned on. And she waited for it — the tiny glimpse of light that had been captured before it abruptly shut down once again. It wasn’t long, but with her lack of sleep and growing frustrations, Rory’s patience had grown thin. When it came, she tapped the screen to pause. 

Rory stared at it for a moment, seeking for answers around it’s edges. She slid the frames back, playing through it again, again, and again. She played through it so many times that her eyes grew droopy, and she struggled to keep them open. The frames were horribly white washed and bleeding light everywhere, but she couldn’t give up.

Rory fell forward, just barely catching herself before planting her face firmly onto the desk. She squeezed her eyes shut and opened them wide, looking back to the screen... and that’s when she saw it. A shape! 

Heart racing in her chest, Rory grew more alert than she’d been in days, and she zoomed in on the figure, trying to make it out. She traced a line along, what she assumed to be, the inside edge of Bianca’s pocket, and tried to calculate where Bianca’s phone or flashlight was shining from. 

“D.E.C.A., print me this frame,” she commanded, hurrying to the printer. 

“Printing frame from location, CAMERA B, now,” D.E.C.A sounded. 

“And don’t tell anyone about this!” She glared up at one of the camera’s positioned high above her. 

“Your secret is safe with me, Rory.”

“I somehow doubt that,” Rory grumbled, retrieving her photo. She ran the tip of her finger along what she assumed to be the side of a face; a face she believed to know well. Her face fell as the reality of it all sank in, and she balked, feeling more dejected than she had since this whole thing started. Her brows furrowed as she tried to piece it all together. Sawyer had warned her about this, but she didn’t want it to be true. When she spoke again, her voice was small. 

“Gotcha.”  

[ecotone99]

[MF] The Bad Dream of the Quamatch Canyon Snake

I

​

Bleeding green silt into the ocean the Quamatch River clearly remembers its own icy birth. It flings rainbow-tinted mist as alms for the day.

A snake licks the darkness of an egg. It hatches, hunts, and molts.

Canyon-funneled wind whips its skin into the fork of a dead nettle. The ghost twitches and dances translucent, a vision to trouble a winter sleep.

A goose barks and descends into the water with relief as a steady noise emerges from the west. The sound hides the trees' whispering ans ends all lemon songbirds' morning chorusing.

The snake awakens haunted. Feebly worming out into the din it climbs the ivy confused. Amber shadows fall about and blacken. The harrowing sound everywhere crests. Innumerable legions of geese cloak the valley in false night. They cool and rob all vigor from the blood of the snake, killing him.

Woven and cradled in wind-swaying arms he rots.

The geese unveil the day. The last laughing stragglers give back to the valley its stolen calm.

​

II

​

The night she noticed him driving by she crouched low burning bowls in her truck. Thumbing through tokes with each flick of the bic her eyes caught byzantine patterns in the darkness. He rounded her corner, switched off the high beams, gunned it.

​

“Dude. Friends, enemies, people we know, people we will know or used to know before, they, like, they must pass right by us sometimes, like on the freeway going the opposite way or whatever."

"Sure, I bet it happens a lot. Like the other day I think I saw a dude from my elementary school maybe. I didn't say anything. We run into old friends and shit, where we least expect, like, 'Oh my God, what are you doing here?'"

"Yeah but no but it's the misses I'm talking about."

"Ah like a girl in a movie theater sits in front of the future father of her children?"

"Exactly."

"Or a dude unknowingly sells meth to the tweaker grandson of the asshole who tortured and killed his grandfather in World War Two?"

"Mm. Shooting-stars in the daytime."

​

Night shift finally ended. As she followed him deep into the parking lot he praised his personal god of coincidence, Kizmet the Hamster. As a little kid he had imagined (or discovered?) a pantheon to whom he would forever sacrifice logic and house-spiders, for whom he cultivated a devotion far beyond superstition or reverie.

"You don't like me much.”

She was slow to respond, busy noticing his scratched glasses.

"Nah not really."

Admiring her own bluntness she stretched the long night out of her wrists. Moths and mosquito hawks orbited the lights. Two barn owls huddled in a duct on the roof. They both took a deep breath. A killdeer screamed like a painted warrior. It looked up to study secret maps encoded in auroras. Instructing scouts upwind, the killdeer, a chief, cried reassemble. Five arrowhead bird-shadows slid south into the yard where cargo tanks rusted. They sat and sank more mass into each new winter’s mud like dented shields in Carthaginian grass.

Faking nonchalance and walking backwards he away fired one last time with,"Hey if I were you I wouldn't like me either." He smiled and savored a hint of the hidden shape of her body.

“Not everyone can like everybody." She slammed the truck door started her engine and massaged her own neck.

Cars tailgated and passed her truck the left. Neglecting the spectacular sunrise, replaying the day instead, planning ideal responses to future points in fantasy discussions, she missed the miracle of dawn’s lavender tongue licking up the last drops of darkness. One rare east amber cloud was swimming thinly through terraces of rising warmth. As she rounded her corner she yawned. The day broke and crowned. It tore the skin of the horizon and bled life upon the world.

​

He leaned weight into his fingers, massaging her neck. As she swiped through photos he glimpsed her recent roadkill thumbnails. He was at first mistaken in thinking they were photos of living creatures.

“Woah, go back.”

​

Cricket noise in the canyon reminded him of the whir and beeps of the warehouse equipment. Warm sweat marinated their two hands together. She saw the moon’s regretful expression through her ancestor-guardian-ibis-eyes. She artfully said so and asked him what he saw in the moon. Through misshapen corneas and scratched glasses, through flat windshield-insect-residue and crazy windblown mists he saw the moon sinking slow to sleep. He felt the pulse of destiny in his crotch and answered, "I have no words."

​

A blonde canyon tarantula is perplexed by the flatness of the road. Dyspeptic turkey vultures drink not of the creek.

War-flags aflutter the finch mobs and sentinel kestrels, the swallow reconnaissance and nomad meadowlarks and red wing blackbird bandits all vie to balance the sky. All the armies, with good and absolute reason, fear shrikes.

​

“You made up your own secret gods?”

“I guess so.”

“Do you pray to them?”

“When I was a kid I did.”

Quamatch joins a little town called Uverne to the canyon. The vignerons see it as the boundary—where school-skipping couples kiss, where truck-driving midnight johns drop condoms on the gravel, where proud gangs batter prospects into apostles—between zones.

The oaks along the creek-bed died soon after they paved the road. Those that stood out were nailed. Now termite craters freckle the nooks.

“Your eyes are in front, sockets forward.”

“Predatory primate.”

“And yeah, hawk sockets point forward but they can pretty much Exorcist their head all the way around.”

“But horned owls straight murder hawks. They jack ‘em in the dark.”

“Never thought of hawks as prey.”

“Everything’s prey.”

​

Sour vengeance festers in most crows. However the ravens are wiser than smart. They forget and forgive. Both peck and scissor the carrion and swallow the nested eggs of songbirds. Some mornings these cousins show mocking courtesy to the very sparrows whose offspring they digest.

She swiped back a few.

"Yeah. Poor thing. I think that was off Quamatch. The trucks haul ass through there."

"Ew, you got that close to a dead dog?”

“A coyote. Maybe a hybrid? Was a coyote.”

“What in the actual fuck? Ugh. I’m nauseous. I don’t want to see the rest.”

“To me each one of these photos is like a gravestone or something.”

“Obituary?”

“Epitat?”

“Effigy?”

​

“Kozmit’s helmet fits loose on his head. He’s an engineer in the classic, forgotten sense. He steers the big wheel of weird as we dance and die down here like spinning nickels.”

“He’s the god of synchronicity?”

“He’s also the god of gambling and profound road signage.”

“'Yield'.”

“Exactly.”

“‘Merge’.”

"One Way'."

“‘Be Prepared To Stop’.”

“Woah.”

​

After plucking for canyon ticks in the needles a wren sings riddles of melody pebbles with a tiny tongue of turquoise. It bluffs a marmot and retreats to preen deep in its family brambles.

​

A girl toddler smiled and asserted, “Two bewds.”

“Good job, baby. Two birds?”

“Two bewds fly a-moom.”

“Two birds fly to the moon?”

“Yeah.” The baby giggled with closed eyes. After a few seconds she reopened them smiling and blinking.

“Wow honey, that’s so silly.”

Fumbling bottles of lotion, water, and instant imitation breastmilk mom and dad heard distant croaks. They looked up to see, from above the mouth of a skeletal gray arroyo, two crows enter a cloudless sky and each slowly, eventually, directly cross the face of a daytime moon.

A long silence seemed to increase the wind.

“Ok did that just happen?”, asked mom.

“Yeah but I’m totally done with crazy shit right now. Let’s get the baby fed and changed and just go.”

Before removing a chubby arm from her eyes the baby said cheerfully, “Sleepy snake. Sleep in a tree. Silly snake sleep in a tree."

This prompted mom and dad to share an uncertain glance.

“Good job, baby.”

“Let’s just go. She ain’t hella wet or crying.”

“Still no cell service?”

“Spotty.”

​

​

​

​

J. Allen DeVera -- 2020

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