#they legit thought he was putting on a fake accent

[brainddeadd]

Okay, I’ve another request. Reader who is used to being the rock in everyone’s lives. Her friends, her family. And she doesn’t mind. She’s so used to being super helpful and self sacrificing that it’s normal. Like. She legit doesn’t really notice. And then like. Kind of don Chan but like. Non sexual at first? The first time he tells her to do something or not do something like in a slightly stern voice… like maybe she’s picking up something for someone who’s low key a bitch or smth like that. I really don’t know. And at first she goes like. Who dareth speaketh to me like that but then she melts and she realises she likes being told what to do but like obv tries to cover it up and get fake annoyed? Ik this is super chaotic but I hope u get my drift a bit… and then maybe— acquaintances to lovers and maybe a more… sexual and general setting? Like she, who dominates every aspect of life wants to be an absolute slave to everything he says.

Bang Chan x f!reader

Cafe worker's and university students! AU.

fluff, suggestive, dom-sub dynamics (mostly sfw and slight nsfw)

I'm so sorry that it took me so long to get to this one.

You're officially 💋 anon.

Bang Chan is annoying.

Well.. no, that's not entirely true.

He's sweet, and kind, and caring, and always make sure you're eating well, drinking enough water, not working too hard without taking breaks. He often messages you over the weekend or on your days off to see how your studies are going, asking if you're taking breaks.

He brings you little things; chocolate he knows you like or your favourite drink, passing them to you with a nonchalant smile, going about his day.

But you're not used to people wanting to take care of you, much less without asking for something in return. You keep waiting for the ball to drop, for him to ask something of you, expect something, think he's entitled to something. But it never happens.

It's been months, and Chan never asks a thing of you. Simply asks how you are, and moves on.

It's gone from little, friendly moments of caring, to moments full of lingering touches and glances that last too long, both of you wanting to say more, but never taking the leap.

That's how you end up here, sitting with him outside the cafe, watching the sunset after you've both finished for the day.

You're trying to work up the courage to ask him for something. For help.

"Chan," he can see the hesitation on your face, and he wants to tell you that you can ask him anything, but he stays quiet, waiting for you to work through your thoughts. "I need your help."

"What do you need?" His Aussie accent is thicker than normal, but you don't think much of it, too in your head to process it.

"I- My sink, it's- tap-" you sigh, head falling to your hands. "Fuck-"

"Your sink is broken and you need help to fix it?" Of course he knows. Translates the mess in your brain to actual words and verbalises it. Nodding, he smiles and takes you hand in his, telling you to lead the way.

You fall into a pattern then, coming to him when you need help doing something that you can't fix yourself, knowing he'll be there to do it for you.

~~

"She wants you to what?" He's frowning, arms crossed over his chest, and you can't help but let your eyes wander over his muscles.

"Plan her party." You shrug, like it's no big deal, but Chan's not having it.

"No." His voice is stern and you frown at him. He sighs.

"Look, I can't tell you what to do, but she's a bitch and has never and will never do anything nice for you." He moves closer, hands unfolding and resting at his sides. "You could be on fire, and she wouldn't attempt to put it out."

"And who would?!" You know you shouldn't be so annoyed, but the way he ordered you not to, and the way your body reacted to his command are freaking you out. He frowns again, leaning down to your height.

"I would." He presses his forehead to yours. "I would, and you know it."

You nod, hands reaching for his and he immediately takes you into his arms.

"Chan-" He nudges his nose against yours.

"Tell me if you want this to stop, if you don't want this."

"I want this." You whisper. "I want you."

His eyes close, and he leans into press a gentle kiss to your lips, hands grazing your sides. You lean into him, pulling him close and sink into his hold.

Too quickly for your liking, he pulls away, but keep his arms around you.

"Let me take you on a date?" Nodding, you lean into him again, but he pulls back even further, stepping out of reach. "Go get changed. I'll pick you up at 7."

Chan leaves you standing in shock, body buzzing from his touch and mind running with new information, you rush to get ready, hands shaking from excitement.

~~

He spends the whole date with his hand on your back, gently guiding you to the car, helping you in and out, guiding you through the restaurant.

He guides you back to his car, hand on your back, and your body relaxes into his touch, lets him move you as he pleases, and your mind wanders to all the ways he could move you and mold you to his liking.

~~

"Wanna come in?" It's a bold question, but you mean it, in whatever way he wants it.

"You sure?" You know what he's really asking.

"I'm sure."

[samsexualdeancurious]

Enough Hope Left

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Words: 2,072

Summary: Sam and Y/N have been trying to have a kid but without much success.

Warnings: Married Sam x Reader, fertility issues and light discussion.

Written for an Archangel Patron request.

---

Three tests. Three little windows.

Three negative results.

“Y/N” Sam starts but you’re already pushing past him on your way out of the bathroom. You have to get out. You have to be away from him.

You almost collide with Dean in the hallway but ignore his questions as you continue on your way. Your eyes are already pricking with tears and you need to go somewhere - anywhere - you won’t be seen as you cry your heart out. The tears aren’t going to wait, though. They’re coming on hard and fast and fuck.

Not pregnant. Still.

Fuck. Everything.

You never thought you would be the kind of person to cry over a negative pregnancy test and yet here you are, frantically wiping tears from your cheeks as you lock your bedroom door behind you. You can hear Sam banging on it, calling your name, as you throw yourself onto the bed. A locked door won’t keep him out if he really puts his mind to it but you know Sam. he’ll respect your need for space and probably be sitting against the wall, waiting for you, when you finally emerge.

With that knowledge in mind, you clutch Sam’s pillow to your chest and sob.

It’s been almost two years since you and Sam decided to start trying but nothing has changed in that time. You’ve probably spent a fortune on pregnancy tests and at-home fertility remedies and nothing. Not one single thing has worked. Being a hunter, you don’t really have other options and you’re starting to run out of hope. It’s not like you can just set an appointment with a fertility specialist or adopt a kid. Your fake insurance probably wouldn’t hold up well enough for that. Plus, Sam doesn’t even have a legit form of identification seeing as he’s legally dead at least twice over. You’re out of options.

Maybe you’re just destined to never have a kid and you need to accept that fact. Knowing that and actually accomplishing it, though, are two completely different tasks and you’re not really sure you’re capable of either.

Sure enough, Sam is seated on the floor by the bedroom door with his long knees folded up to his chest. He lifts his head when you open the door and your heart breaks all over again at the sight of his tear-reddened eyes. You forget, in the depth of your own pain, that Sam is hurting, too. He wants this just as much as you do, you know he does.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, sinking to the floor beside him.

Sam shakes his head and loops one arm around your shoulders to pull you close. “I just… I wish there was something more I could do.”

You burrow into Sam’s side with a sniffle and a little shrug. “I don’t think there’s really anything else we can do.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “We’ll think of something. A spell, a charm…”

No. Using magic to get pregnant sounds like a terrible idea. “Sam-”

“Let me and Rowena do the research, okay? There has to be something out there-”

“Sam.”

His mouth snaps closed and you lift one hand to cradle his cheek.

“Sam,” you say again. “I’m not using magic. Don’t even go there. It’s not an option for me and never will be. Just leave it, okay?”

“But-”

“Leave it. Sam, please.” You draw him in for a soft kiss. You can feel how desperate he is to fix this for you, to make everything right in the world and give you exactly what you want, but you can’t do this. Not right now. “I can’t do this right now.”

Sam hesitates and then gives a small nod of accent.

“Thank you.” You kiss him once more before pushing yourself to your feet and heading for the kitchen to get started on dinner.

---

To say things are awkward would be an understatement. Neither you nor Sam know what to say for a few days. You’re trying to decide how best to deal with the possibility that you might never have a baby of your own. At the same time, you know Sam is still looking for other solutions. He’s just doing it when you’re not around to see, in the hopes that you’ll come to him when you’re ready for other options. He’ll be prepared if you do. Unfortunately for him, you’re determined not to. Magic is not a solution you’re comfortable with, never will be, and it’s the only one left.

In the meanwhile, Dean’s just dancing around in the middle, even more at a loss for how to help the situation.

“Oh-kay,” he proclaims loudly on the third morning, while you and Sam are making breakfast and avoiding more than the most basic conversation the same way you have every morning. “You two.” He points at you and Sam.

You arch one brow at him in confusion. “Yes?”

“Come here.”

He gestures to the two seats across the table from him. You exchange a quick look with Sam, who just shrugs. You both take the indicated seats.

Dean fixes you with an intense glare, eyes darting between the two of you. Sam shifts uncomfortably.

“Okay,” Dean says. “I don’t know what’s going on and it’s not really any of my business. I’m here to listen if you need it but what I need is the two of you to get your shit together and have a conversation. Do you think you can do that?”

Sam is staring down at his lap and doesn’t respond. You’re not really sure what to say, either.

Dean crosses his arms with a sigh. “Do you need me to mediate or something?”

Fuck no. You’re not dragging your brother-in-law into this shit. “No, we - we’ll be fine. We’ll figure it out.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, we’ll…” you shoot a reluctant glance at Sam. “We’ll sort it out.”

You don’t really want to have this conversation right now but thanks to Dean, you’re not really going to have a choice.

“Right.” Dean slaps his hands, open-palmed, on the tabletop. “Let me know how it goes.”

He gets up then, taking his half-eaten cereal bowl with him, and suddenly it’s just you and Sam, sitting awkwardly side-by-side and trying to decide what to say.

“Y/N,” he starts.

Nope. You can’t do this.

You’re on your feet before you think too hard about it, headed for the counter to continue making breakfast. You forgot to turn the stove off when Dean decided to have his little intervention and the pan is ready for eggs, butter sizzling. You pour the scrambled egg mixture in and dig a spatula from the drawer to stir with.

Behind you, you hear the shuffle of Sam standing. “I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you!”

You don’t turn to look at him, keeping your attention on the eggs in front of you. “And I’m trying to subtly avoid it!”

Sam is still for a minute, breathing slowly in a way that tells you he’s really frustrated but doesn’t want to fuck this up. He’s surprisingly well-adjusted, sometimes, especially considering his upbringing. Winchester men are not known for their ability to talk about their feelings.

You hear his footsteps as he crosses the room and then his solid warmth is pressed against your back, his hands gliding up your forearms. A shiver runs through you at the contact. It’s the most intimate you’ve been in days. “Y/N,” he says softly. “We have to talk about this at some point.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t want to.”

Silence falls between you as you finish cooking the scrambled eggs and scrape them onto a plate. You’re not feeling very hungry anymore but skipping breakfast is never a good idea. When you try to step out of Sam’s hold, though, he doesn’t let go.

“Sam-”

“Y/N, please. Just listen to me?”

You frown down at your steaming eggs but don’t move again or protest.

Sam draws a deep breath and his arms curl around your waist. “I can’t even imagine what you’re going through right now. You’re hurting and I’ll never understand how much, but you’re not alone in this. I’m here and I want this just as much as you do.”

“We’ve tried everything,” you mutter. “We need to just let it go. We can keep trying but I think… I think we need to stop getting our hopes up.”

“But here’s the thing. I want to get your hopes up. I know you told me to leave it but I did some digging.”

“I’m not using magic,” you interject and he shakes his head, ducking down to press his face into the curve of your shoulder. “I won’t go that route. It always ends badly and someone pays the price.”

“Not magic,” he says. “I promise. Just good old science. I found a doctor that specializes in this stuff and has a side practice catering to hunters.”

Your brain grinds to a screeching halt, struggling to process what he’s just told you. It seems impossible. Finding doctors that accept hunter patients is already so rare and most of them work out of back rooms, providing sketchy services only the most desperate will pay for. “... what?”

“She’s down in Arizona, so it’s a bit of a drive, but if you want to give this a real shot…?”

He sounds so hopeful, so eager.

“And if it doesn’t work?”

“It’ll work.” He’s so sure of this and he hasn’t even met the doctor yet.

“Sam.” You turn to face him at last. “I don’t think I’ve got much hope left.”

“That’s okay.” He brings both hands up to cradle your face and his sincerity causes tears to blur your vision. You swallow down the sudden swell of emotion. “I think I’ve got enough hope left for the both of us.”

That’s too much. A sob breaks free before you can stop it and you’re being bundled into Sam’s embrace, your face buried in the soft blue flannel he’s wearing. He holds you close and makes soothing sounds until you’re all cried out. He doesn’t let go even when your shoulders stop shaking.

“We can do this,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Together, right? For better, for worse, all that stuff?”

You manage a little nod, finally lifting your head to meet his gaze. “Yeah. All that stuff.”

Sam chuckles and kisses you gently. “Good. We can sit down later and set up an appointment with this doctor. Sound like a plan?”

“Yeah.” It’s a good plan.

“All right. Would you like toast with your eggs?”

“Toast would be perfect.”

Sam kisses you again and steps away to get to work on said toast. You stand there a moment longer, still processing everything that’s happened in the last ten minutes.

You could have a baby.

Dean chooses that moment to return, carefully poking his head around the doorframe. “All good in here?”

“All good,” Sam says. “Asshole.”

“Hey, I just wanna be able to eat breakfast in peace. My methods work!”

You flip Dean the bird but he just laughs. Zero remorse. What a dick. His methods did work, though. You’ll give him that much.

---

Doctor Kimberly is a dark-haired, bright-eyed woman with a smile that lights up her whole face and a laugh you could hear from the waiting room. She greets you with a firm handshake.

“Sam Winchester,” she says cheerfully. “Never thought I’d see you in my office. Come in, come in, sit down and tell me what’s been going on.”

She listens patiently as you detail your pregnancy struggles up to this point, nodding and never once criticizing your choices even though you’re sure you must have made some bad ones at some point along the way.

“All right,” she says when you’re done. “First off, let me tell you - you’re far from the first couple to struggle with this and you won’t be the last, either. There are lots of options to look at going forward. To decide where to start, though, we need to run a lot of tests. Are you up for that?”

“We’re up for anything,” you say, with more conviction than you’re feeling at the moment but just being here is going a long way towards getting you on board with this plan. “Where do we start?”

—

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—

Team Forever: @mrswhozeewhatsis @manawhaat @books-and-icecream @laughing-at-the-darkness @tumbler-tidbits @emoryhemsworth @imsuperawkward

[angie-j-kay]

For Storyteller Saturday! 🌼

🌼 Pick an OC and put them on blast. Call out their flaws, complain about what makes them difficult to write, etc.

Okay, I was given Ser Elias. I won't give away any spoilers (AND I COULD OMFG THIS MAN IS SO PROBLEMATIC), but here we go.

Elias. You asshole. I'd love to complain that you're difficult to write, but you're legit not. All I have to do is imagine what the cheesiest, most cliché, romance-novel Prince Charming bullshit move would be, and boom: it's you. Seriously. Come up with something original for once in your eternal life.

Listen, we KNOW this is all for show. Nobody whose entire career has been focused around combat for the last thousand years wears white, let alone the absolute catwalk nightmare that you sport on the regular. Embroidered silver wings on the shoulders of a white silk suit? Waist-length gothic supermodel black hair? Dude, you are in Coal Miner Country, you could have floored everyone by wearing literally anything that was clean, this was like using a jackhammer to break an eggshell. And everyone knows that the accent is fake, because Fae don't have accents. YOU JUST DID THAT TO SOUND SEXIER, YOU ABSOLUTE FUCKING WALKING EUROPEAN STEREOTYPE OF AN ELF!

There is a reason why your only real friend is an eldritch abomination, dude. Reli may be the stuff of nightmares, but at least they're not YOU.

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

What You Cast Out: A Tale From Little Egypt (Novel Masterpost HERE!)

A small college town is rocked by a horrific murder, with only one suspect. Officer Gabe Nelson knows Tracey Rutledge can't possibly be guilty, but the only thing more incriminating than the woman's behavior is everything else that his investigation reveals.

Why does the case trace back to her childhood home, and why did she run away from it eight years ago?

Why is the FBI as interested in Tracey as they are in the murder?

What smells like wet dogs?

As the case closes in on Tracey, so does the real killer. Gabe will have to choose between the life he has always believed in and the values he has always held, while the world he thought was real starts to fall apart.

Chapter 1 will be released to the public on March 1, and Chapters 3-5 will be available to Patreon and Ko-Fi followers!

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

NO AI WAS OR EVER WILL BE USED IN THE PRODUCTION OF MY ZINES.

If you like this post, I'd love it if you shared it so more folks could see it. The more people share this post, the more people will be able to read the novel!

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The current taglist: @wedgie-of-destiny, @nightacquainted, @storminmywake, @brokenandlonelysouls, @tattur, @theamazingchickenman, @solstice-muse-collective, @axl-ul, @tucsonhorse

[omgthisisnotmyrealaccount]

just saw someone under a video of ewan mcgregor talking reply “why is he talking like he’s auditioning for braveheart” and somemone just replied “it’s called being scottish” 💀

[snappleapple]

the bunny vs. the fox

dream x reader

hogwarts au

fluff and angst i suppose

warning - cursing, reader being a small b, simpy dream, underage drinking

word count - 6.8k

a/n: hi again! please enjoy this long boi while i go on another 8 month hiatus lol. also i legit had a heart attack cause i accidentally deleted this but i got it back so phew

the vibrant colors of your uniform stands out amongst the repelling amount of green present within the slytherin common room. you had been invited to the party on behalf of wilbur for their recent quidditch cup win against gryffindor, a game lost because of the carelessness and arrogance of your teammates. along with students from other houses, you stand next to the tall boy you had met when you got onto the train in your first year.

“wilbur, why am i here?” the question lingers in his ear as you point to your current attire of your uniform skirt, an oversized gryffindor sweater you borrowed from sapnap, your thick glasses and messy bed hair from taking a nap after the long game. “y/n? what are you doing here?” you turn your head to glance over at the younger boy, “that’s what i wanna know, tommy.” as you turn around to look at wilbur, another person bumps into you, “hey! watch where you’re going- y/n! what a surprise!” with the roll of your eyes, you dismiss him and reply sarcastically, “glad to see you’re not so shaken up from the recent failure of gryffindor, fundy.” he gives you a shit-eating grin before bouncing away to continue his search for pure alcohol.

as more students enter the already crowded room, a loud cheer begins to form as a boy is lifted into the air. “dream! dream! dream!” the crowd yells at the top of their lungs, which would probably attract a teacher soon, so you begin to sneak out of the room until a loud voice interrupts the cheers, “y/n! leaving the party so soon?” dream taunts with a smirk on his face, everyone’s attention turning towards you. “mind your own business, dream.” you spit out with venom, still bitter about your quidditch loss, as he scoffs and strides towards you, “i guess if you search up sore loser in the dictionary, you’d find a picture of y/n.” he mocks once again while you begin to get riled up from the obnoxious laughter erupting from the crowd. you turn around and begin heading for the door once more before hearing, “come on y/n. no one likes a sore loser.” turning around, you glare at the annoying boy, “come on dream. the only thing worse than a sore loser is a sore winner.” the both of you stare each other down while the whole room stays quiet. dream stands with an unsatisfied smirk on his face as he reaches into his pocket, possibly reaching for his wand. with the slight slip of your fingers and extra progression , you grasp your wand. but before you could fully pull out your wand, you get lifted into the air, over the shoulder of a ravenclaw. “we’ll be seeing you guys later.” he nonchalantly says while walking out of the room, giving you perfect view of dream, with a now satisfied shit-eating grin as he waves at you. you end your interaction with the slytherin with the show of your middle finger.

“techno! why? i could’ve totally won that battle.” the older boy shakes his head as he listens to your whines. “nope. i promised phil that i would keep you out of trouble.” you groan some more before stomping away back to the gryffindor common room, barely sparing a glance at the pink haired boy.

a week passes by and when you’re at breakfast, you lay your head against phil’s shoulder while he munches away on a buttered piece of toast, keeping conversation with fundy. dream hadn’t been bothering as bad as normal but he was still around you. you were a bit confused about his change in behavior but brushed it off, ignoring him and treating him as if he’s on his own menopause situation. twiddling your fingers, boredom begins to strike you in the great breakfast hall. well, once quiet hall, in which the silence is interrupted by the entrance of dream, sapnap and george. you would assume that since they are all from different houses, there would be a tolerance for peace, yet that never seemed like an option with dream. “hello y/n.” he smirks as you turn around to look at him with a stone cold expression. “what do you want?” you say with a scathing tone. ‘“nothing, just came to see how the most competitive person on gryffindor was doing after their recent loss.” with the use of your middle finger, you raise your glasses before giving dream an innocent grin, “i’m feeling good.” the hall goes quieter than it was before as dream sits next to you on the bench. as you leans closer to you, you put your hand under your head and turn your head towards him coyly. “and what do i owe the honor of being able to sit next to the dream? he rolls his eyes as sapnap and george laugh at your shenanigans. “i was just wondering if you would do me the honor of going out to hogsmeade with me?” shaking your head, you barely even glance over at the boy. “no.” dream’s expression remains stoic as he continues to look at you, “come on y/n.” you turn to stand up and leave. raising a stiff hand into the air, you wave to phil and fundy.

but before you could fully exit the great hall, a hand pulls you into the crevice of the walls. he puts his hand over your mouth to prevent you from saying a word. “y/n. please. please go out with me.” shaking your head once again, you give him a cheeky grin. “what will you do for me if i do?” dream pinches his nose bridge, “i’ll do your charms homework for a month.” he persuades with much hesitance. you fully extend your hand out to him and he wraps his large, warm hand around yours. the large grin on your face replicates the one on his face. “next week on saturday, meet me at the bridge to hogsmeade at nine am, sharp! but if you are even a minute late, i’m leaving and you’re still doing my charms homework.” dream closes his eyes and basks in the natural light from the bewitched sky, nodding his head.

the rest of the day, you go throughout your usual classes, occasionally listening to the gossip that spread like wildfire throughout the school. “oh my god, did you hear that l/n is going out with dream tomorrow?” or “i thought they hated each other?” in all honesty, you were beginning to get annoyed from all of the side conversations happening in all classes. luckily, you were in your last class of the day, unluckily, it was with slytherin, specifically dream’s class. a yawn erupts from your mouth as pull out a set of notes to get ready for your class. as the second yawn begins, a hand makes its way to your mouth. you glare at the boy who had already caused way too much mischief for your liking. he gives you a fake grin as he sits next to you. before you can retort to his stupid action, your professor struts into the room, quickly starting his lesson.

throughout most of the class, dream remains quiet, jotting down his notes or dragging his hand through his hair. but towards the end of the class, he leans his head on your shoulder. your body stiffens up as his hand makes its way to your thigh. “you better take your hand off my thigh if you want to keep it.” quiet chuckles erupt from his lips, “can i do this on our date?” you reciprocate soft chuckles, “do you want to die?” the grin on his face get replaced by a pout and puppy dog eyes. “why are you so mean to me?” you continue to scribble down notes, not sparing one glance at the boy, until he grabs your face with both of his hands, “look at me pout, y/n.” and when he turns you face towards him, your professor calls the both of you out. “miss l/n, please take your lovey dovey business outside of class.” your mouth hangs open but before you could protest, dream interrupts you, “will do professor.” his chuckles echo through the room as you slam your head into the table repeatedly until dream puts his hand on the desk, preventing you from bruising your forehead even more. “just let me bash my skull open and die.” dream pats your head, “i can’t have you die before our date.” cringing at his words, you frantically try to remove his hand so you could smash your head into the desk.

later that night at dinner, your face remains a disgusted pout as you imagine your date with dream. while you shudder in disgust, phil taps you out of your daze. “y/n, you really should snap out of it today.” he laughs jokingly along with fundy. your eyes roll as you turn back to your dinner plate full of random things phil stacked on so that you would actually eat dinner. after being forcefully fed one chicken leg and some mashed potatoes, you check the time which read eight twenty five, giving you five minutes to go to the black lake. “oh shit.” you exclaim as you grab all of your items while phil tries to stuff another chicken leg into your mouth. “phi-“ you shut up when the chicken successfully makes it into your mouth. as you sprint out of the hall carrying your school books, robe, wand and other unnecessary items fundy handed to you, your robe decides to slip out unbeknown to you.

when you arrive to the lake, you see him waiting for you already. you toss your items down next to him and sit down next to him. “you’re late. again.” heavy huffs of air erupt from your body as try to catch your breath, still holding the chicken leg phil stuffed into your mouth. “sorr-“ a cough leaves your lips, “sorry. phil was trying to get me to eat dinner.” the boy lets out deep chuckles as he ruffles your hair, “classic phil.” you lean back and balance your weight on the both of your hands as you stare out at the frozen lake. “techno, i don’t get why we have to meet outside in the freezing cold when there is a warm library open to us. i’m cold and i lost my robe on the way here. in a silent flash, a blue accented robe makes its way over into your sight, along with a bare arm. when you turn your head towards the boy, he says away and turns back to the lake, expressionlessly. a small smile erupts on your face as you turn back to the lake, wrapping the robe around your shoulders. before you could mutter a quick thank you, you get cut off, “don’t. lets not talk about this.”

after finishing whatever school work you needed to with techno, you walk back with him into the hallways, coincidentally just as dinner was ending. though you never found out where your robe was, you bump into a tall figure as you make your way through the hall with techno counting the tiles on the floor. a small oomf leaves your lips as the person puts his hands on your shoulders. “who’s robe is that? last time i checked you were in gryffindor, not ravenclaw.” you don’t need to look up to know who you were currently speaking with, “hello dream.” you could hear the smirk in his voice when he speaks again, “hello y/n. take this off.” dream retorts with a hint of teasing, “no. i’m cold and i lost my robe. so techno let me borrow his.” the other tall boy next to you nods in agreement. “uh no. i don’t like the sight of this.” dream complains with an unsatisfied look on his face before tugging the robe off of your body, throwing it at technoblade and then proceeding to wrap his robe around your body, slinging his arm over your shoulder. “that’s better.” he doesn’t even spare a glance at the older boy as he leads you away while you try to at least say goodbye to technoblade. “bye- dream i swear to god, bye techno!”

while the both of you continue to the gryffindor tower, he doesn’t let his arm on your shoulders falter. “what’s the deal with you and that guy.” you stop in place, turn to look at dream and mime yourself zipping your lips as if you were saying, ‘you get nothing out of me.’ dream rolls his eyes before throwing you over his shoulder and continuing his way over to the common room. “okay this is unnecessary. put me down, i’m wearing a skirt.” lightly hitting his back with your fist. “don’t worry about it, my robe is covering it up.”

at the door of the entrance, the fat lady stares at you in confusion. “can you put me down?” dream lets out a grunt of disagreement, “no. just tell her the password so i can come in and snuggle you.” you take a breath in of anger, “no. i need to finish homework, plus i’m going to see you again tomorrow.” another grunt comes out of the boy before he says the password to your common room, the fat lady begrudgingly letting the both of you in. “what?! you know the password?” he chuckles before setting you down, “of course, sapnap told me. and i come in here all the time to hook up with different gryffindor girls.” your face of disgust makes a wheeze leave his lips, “i’m joking. i finish homework with sapnap in his room, not hook up with girls. i’ll have you know, i haven’t even had my first kiss yet.” you scoff before turning towards your room, “goodnight dream.” but before you can progress any further, he grabs your wrist, “no.” your face scrunches up. staring the boy up and down, another scoff leaves your lips, “what do you mean ‘no’. i’m not giving you an option.” he pouts and opens his arms, “i jus wanna cuddle.” your face scrunches up in disgust once more before you take a step back, “wasn’t it last week when you were being a bitch about my quidditch team.” his arms fall down in realization but the pout remains visible. slightly annoyed but empathetic, you walk over to him, awkwardly wrapping your arms around his waist, patting him on his back gently. while he embraces you back, he leans down to whisper into your ear, “can we cuddle?” you let out groans before letting out a deep sigh, “fine. but you have to promise not to be too grabby, like right now. i did not tell you to grab my butt.” dream sheepishly shys away from you and grabs the hem of shirt while he follows you up the stairs while you try to maneuver him so he can actually make it up the enchanted stairs that only the girl’s dorm.

when you enter your dorm, you’re met by the friendly faces of your roommates. “h-hey guys.” with the motion of their hands, they tell you scoot over to see dream standing behind you with a smirk on his face. before he could walk into the room, you shut the door in his face, wanting to speak in private with your roommates. “don’t tell anyone about this. he was begging to cuddle and would not leave until i agreed. he’ll be gone by midnight tonight and i promise i’ll make sure he’s quiet.” your roommates stare at you before bursting out in laughter, “you’re going soft y/n!” a look of shock rushes over your face before hushing them, “i am not.” they shake their heads in disagreement, making you roll your eyes. when you open the door to let dream back into your room, your roommates pack their homework and walk towards the door. one roommate holds the door open while the other still collects her things, “we’ll be seeing you later y/n. so have fun with dream.” you hide your face in your pillow, embarrassed from their current attitudes about your situation. when they leave, dream sits on your bed while you stand up and walk over to your closet and grab a change of clothes. “just lay on the bed and i’ll be out soon.” dream nods, boredly flipping through a random book he found on your bed.

in the bathroom, you tie your hair in a messy bun, change into some sweatpants and a random oversized t-shirt, you think its either sapnap’s or wilbur’s, take your contacts out and put your glasses on, before proceeding to brush your teeth and exiting the bathroom.

sitting on the edge of your bed, you stare down at dream, hugging your pillow. “y/n, can you replace the pillow?” your expression quickly shifts from a neutral face to a cringing face. you ignore his words, “scoot over.” you say while grabbing the book dream was reading before you came out, opening it and tucking your legs underneath your comforter. another sigh leaves your lips as you tap the top of your thighs twice, letting dream know that he can lay his head onto your legs, in which he gladly does. about thirty minutes pass and your hand drags itself through his hair, occasionally leaving to flip the page of your book. you stay super into your book until dream speaks up, “y/n.” you let out a mhm of acknowledgement, letting him know you’re listening. “i don’t want to cuddle your legs, i want to cuddle you.” a small okay is heard from you as you put the book on your dresser, tucking yourself into your bed. your back faces away from dream. a shiver rolls down your spine as he wraps his arms around your waist, resulting in him breathing down your neck. goosebumps arise on your body. in the awkward silence of the room, the only things you can hear are the loud thumps of your heart and the even breaths from dream.

when you wake up the next morning, you move your arms to stretch them, but fail to do so in the embrace of dream. staring at his peaceful face, free of any frowns he had shown last night, you brush his bangs out of his eyes. with a glance at the seeping sunlight, you slowly slip out of his embrace, walking to the bathroom to get ready for the day. before you exit the room, you glance over at the sleeping boy on your bed. you roll your eyes before walking over to his side and sitting down on the edge of the bed, gently caressing his messy hair. he stirs in his sleep for a few seconds and as he opens his eyes. the first things he sees is you before pulling you towards his chest with you going down with a yelp. “dream!” he nuzzles his head into your neck, mumbling something incoherent. “say that again?” he mumbles some more, “i don’t know what you’re saying.” you chuckle in-between each word, he moves his head away from your neck, “i said you smell good.” dream stretches as you pull away from him, walking over to the door leading to the common room. “go clean yourself up and come to breakfast.” dream sluggishly drags himself out of your bed before grabbing his robe and your wrist, proceeding to drag you towards the door, the stairs turning into a slide underneath him while you wait for the stairs to turn back, laughing loudly at him. at the bottom of the stairs, you meet the friendly faces of phil, fundy and sapnap.

“y/n, why was dream in your room last night?” phil asks just a bit sarcastic but with a joyful smile on his face. sapnap’s face morphs into a smirk as his eyes move from your figure to dream’s and then back to yours. “you,” he says while staring at you before turning to dream on the floor, “and you.” sapnap then proceeds to make kissy faces earning a smack from you and a chuckle from dream, earning dream a smack from you as well. “dream is leaving anyways.” you say while pushing him out of your common room. phil, fundy, sapnap, you and dream make your way down the hall, “dream. go to your room and change.” he pouts once again before wrapping his hand around yours. once phil notices, he walks between the both of you, separating you and dream, making you stand on either side of him. when you glance up at phil, he just gives you his signature kind smile before turning back to his conversation with fundy. before you notice, dream had disappeared to god knows where, you get pulled behind a pillar, not being noticed from the three of your friends. “shh, y/n.” his hand covers your mouth until he lets go, “dream! what was the point of this, we were with each other like five minutes ago.” he ignores your words and drags you towards the slytherin common room, finishing what he started earlier by holding your hand.

while you wait for dream to finish getting ready in his room, you sit in the common room, greeted by the not so friendly faces of other slytherins, disregarding wilbur sitting at your side, telling you about the dragon he was raising in the dark forest. when dream comes back out, the color of your uniform stands out so brightly in the dark green room. wilbur sits next to you with his beanie on. “wilbur, aren’t you tired? you have black circles under your eyes.” he shakes his head with optimism, “it’s for the aesthetic. don’t worry about them. oh hello dream!” your eyes shift from wilbur to dream. dream leads you out of the common room as the both of you walk down the quiet and empty halls towards breakfast. dream wraps his robe around your shoulders, “i know you get cold easily.” you look up at him with a small smile engulfed by sadness, “thanks.”

as you walk down the long hallway, you finally feel the courage to speak up. “dream,” you pause waiting for a response from the tall boy. he lets out a hum to let you know he’s listening, “why are you doing this?” the question slips from your lips with doubt and concern. “doing what?” dream answers back with his own question. “well for one,” you pause once again with uncertainty, “pretending to like me. just a week ago, you were being a jerk to me and all of a sudden, you just begin to pursue me. and i want to know why.” dream stops in place while you continue by yourself, “what do you mean pretend to like you? i do like you.” now it was your turn to stop, “no you don’t. you can’t just begin to like someone all of a sudden. nothing works like that. so, i’m going to ask you something and i want you to answer sincerely, okay?” dream’s face falls into a guilty expression as he stares at the floor, “how much?” you maintain the soft expression on your face while continuing to gaze at the tall boy, “fifteen galleons.” a tiny huff of air leaves your lips as you a soft small appears on your face in slight disbelief, eyes slightly tearing up. you walk away for a while before speaking once again, “i hope it was worth it.” you take off his robe and drop it on the floor as you walk away from him.

as you enter the great hall for breakfast, you sit next to phil quietly. with a small eye smile, you tell phil that you’re not that hungry and just take a sip out of your tea. “so , y/n. you and dream huh?” sapnap teases, “there’s nothing between us.” your cold tone resonates throughout the gryffindor table, “woah, no need to get your panties in a bunch.” he teases as the other boys around you laugh. angered, you stand up and grab his collar, pulling him towards you over the table, “i said there’s nothing. so fuck off and mind your own business.” your empty hand crunches up, turning your fist white. phil abruptly stands up and gently puts his hand on your shoulder as a signal to tell you to calm down. you could feel all eyes on you but could honestly care less. releasing his collar, the boy looks at you after being scolded by phil for butting into a girl’s business. “i’m sorry y/n. i didn’t mean to that insensitive.” you snap out of your rage induced glare and decide to mutter a small apology as well before walking out of the hall.

“y/n!” another glare arises on your face at you look at the culprit that made you angry. “i’m sorry for the bet, but i was just using that as an excuse because i kept denying the fact that i like you.” dream attempts to grab your hand like he did earlier that day but you snatch your hand away. “don’t bother lying now because i didn’t even believe you earlier.” your reply marked with extreme sarcasm. you turn around to stomp towards your common room once again. “y/n, please. what will it take for you to realize that i actually like you.” with a glance over your shoulder, you look at dream one last time, “leave me the fuck alone.”

as the week passed, it was the day of your date with dream. you stayed in your dorm for most of the day, eventually going out to eat at meal times. dream waited for you at the bridge that leads to hogsmeade for hours until finally leaving when sapnap came to tell him that you weren’t coming.

on the day of your quidditch game with ravenclaw, you lay in bed, staring at the spot dream had once been in with you. you’ve seen dream around but never even glanced towards him, isolating yourself quietly with your small group of friends. dream, for the most part, left you alone besides the points where he hangs out with sapnap in the gryffindor common room. you rarely spoke and only did when it was necessary. before you realize, you’re in the shower room, getting dressed in your uniform. sapnap leads you towards the field and your team flies onto the field. technoblade flies up towards you in attempt to speak to you for the first time that week. “hey munchkin. how’s it going.” you drag your hands through your hair, messing it up after phil had worked so hard to keep it neat. “dream told me he liked me. but his antics started after i confronted him about his bet.” techno’s eyes soften as he ruffles your hair, “i don’t want to sour your mood even more, but he’s sitting in gryffindor stands right now. just for your own information.” you roll your eyes and fly over to your side, bat in hand. the huffs of your breaths could be seen in the snowy weather of winter.

for most of the game, you played extremely aggressive. you nearly hit sapnap once and actually hit fundy while ravenclaw scored over and over again. “y/n! get down here!” you hear the rough voice of your quidditch captain call, “what’s wrong with you l/n? you never play this recklessly. sit out this game, we can have someone else sub for you.” dream watches you from the stands. you stare at your captain in disbelief before nodding and walking off the field.

walking down the hallways, dream follows you with silent steps in order to not attract any unwanted attention. “what do you want dream?” you ask without turning around to look at the boy. “y/n,” before he can finishes, he pauses, allowing time for you to interrupt, “i asked for what you wanted, not my name.” you let out the sarcastic and sappy reply. “y/n, i’m sorry i put you in such a shitty situation and because of that, inevitably hurt our relationship. the stupid relationship that makes me smile every time i think about you or when someone mentions your name.” dream walks towards you with caution while also watching your reaction. once he realizes that you’re okay with his presence, he pulls you into his embrace. your face gets buried into his chest. “i hate you. i hate that you made me believe you loved me. i hate that i like you despite you being an ass. i hate that we have an unspoken rivalry. i hate how you make butterflies appear with any spoken word and how you’re a touchy person that needs to hold my hand wherever we go.” dream’s chuckles echo in the hall along with his body. “i didn’t know you hated me so much.” you push away from him with a small smirk on your face, “i do. you just have a punchable face.” dream lets out an exaggerated gasp as he holds his hand over his heart, “i’m offended.” he pouts once again, a smile expanding on his face.

“but will you officially do me the honor of going out on a date with me on tomorrow? no bets, no money, nothing. just a boy in love.” you cringe at first then pretend to think about it for a while before finally making eye contact with him, “no.” his smile doesn’t falter, “okay then, i’ll see you at the bridge at nine thirty.” you raise your eyebrows in confusion as the boy walks three steps ahead of you, “come on y/n.” he taunts as if you are a dog. with the roll of your eyes, you skip up towards him and he wraps one of his arms around your shoulder. “you’re not busy right now, are you?” a small laugh leaves your lips as you stare at the tall boy, “well, i just kicked out of my quidditch game, so no? but then again, i’m sort of sweaty so i might need to take a shower.” he ignores you once again and continues walking towards your dorm. as he begins to sound out the password, you cut him off. “look dream, i like you okay?” dream nods with a sly smirk, “but not enough for you to come in.” patting him on his back, you tell the lady the password and walk into the common room. his smirk falters as you leave him standing outside the common room door. dream’s eyes stay on you until he fat lady closes the portrait door. “rejected!” she sings before dream walks away with the roll of his eyes.

the next day at around nine twenty, you walk up from your bed. “oh my god!” you yell checking the time. running to your bathroom, you turn the your sink on quickly, brushing your teeth and your hair before running out to go change. at nine twenty five, you run down the busy halls, occasionally bumping shoulders with some random people. “y/n? where are you going?” fundy asks while watching you run. you stop briefly, “date. dream. waiting. late.” breathing out each word slowly due to your lack of breath. as you begin to start running again, phil and fundy watch you receding figure. by nine thirty two, you make it to the entrance of the bridge, seeing dream standing there with a small smile on his face. “you’re late.” you let out coughs and heave out heavy breaths before speaking again. “sorry. i woke up later than expected.” while you try to catch your breath, dream stares at you lovingly before getting a mischievous glint in his eyes, “am i that breathtaking y/n?” a frown appears on your face before you begin to walk back towards the castle, “no, y/n. i was kidding.”he chuckles as he grabs your hand, the warmth from his hand immediately seeping into your cold hand.

after walking around for a while hearing the crisp crunch of the snow, dream’s hand remains in yours. to be honest, he hasn’t even let your hand go since the beginning of your date. while you were at honeydukes, he held your hand, at dervish and banges, he held your hand, scrivencraft’s, dream. hand. your. hand. he would constantly whine whenever you tried to let go and if you did, he would opt to putting an arm over your shoulder. you walk around with dream until finally reaching the three broomsticks.

you tell dream to get the two of you a table while you go to order drinks. while you wait to pick up the drinks at the counter, you turn around to see dream with a posse full of girls around the tiny table. with the role of your eyes, you dismiss his cocky attitude and turn back towards the lady making your drinks. “is that the boy you came in with?” you life your head off of your palm and look up at the older lady, “yes ma’am.” loud giggles could be heard from behind you as you continue to ignore them, your clenched fist turning slightly whiter by the minute. the older lady looks down at you with sympathy, “you’re jealous.” taken aback from her absurd comment, you look at her with disbelief and large eyes. “jealous? jealous of that?” you say while turning around to point at dream and the girls basically hanging off of his body. “there’s a certain amount of pride a lady can hold herself to and there is no way i’m stooping down that low. sure, call me jealous if you want, but don’t compare me to that mess over there.” you slam down one galleon and walk away from the counter and out the door. dream watches your whole interaction happen and abrubtly stands up after watching you exit the pub. “sorry ladies, but my girl needs some tending to.” he walks out, ignoring the symphony of pleads.

“stupid. stupid. how could i have gotten so mad. she was just making an observation.” you murmur to yourself, feeling apologetic to the older lady who was just as surprised as you after you went off on your tangent. you sit on a bench, which overlooking the mountains near the school. you hit your head with the palm of your hand continuously until a warm hand stop you. “why’d you run away bunny?” you slip your wrist out of his grasp, “not run. walked. and it was because of something that happened to me and the waitress. she may or may not have said something i disagreed with and i may or may not have gone off about it at her.” dream sits down next to you, leaving no space in-between the both of you despite the bench being able to seat four people. “oh bunny-“ once again annoyed, you interrupt him, “why are you calling me bunny?” he chuckles as he watches you stand up to walk off, “because,” dream reciprocates your action and stands up as well, wrapping his arms around your neck and pulling you into his chest. “despite you being in gryffindor, you’re like a cute bunny to me. you’re the smartest person i know and love being around people. despite those traits, you are also bratty, willful and vengeful. it takes a certain person to deal with me and you work with me. we’re like the modern life lady and the tramp.” hesitantly, you wrap your arms around his waist.

“now bunny, what did the lady say to you?” you let out a small murmur of no before pulling away from him. “you don’t need to know.” a mischievous smile erupts on his face, “but i want to know.” you shake your head in response, “but you don’t need to.” with a slight side step, you stare up at the boy. “bunny.” he replies sternly, “if you don’t reply in five seconds, something bad is going to happen to you.” he uses his fingers count down to zero, “five, four, three,” in the meantime, you begin to run away from the boy, “get away from me!” you yell as you try to the reach the sanctuary of the presence of other students. before you could, you get tackled to the ground, “i asked you nicely y/n.” a second before you could repent, he begins to tickle you. “no. i’m sorry. i’ll tell you.” you wheeze out, “its too late bunny.” he continues to tickle you for what feels like hours, on the cold snow on the ground, until he gets tackled off of you, “get off of her!” you sit up to see fundy on top of dream, pinning his hands down while sapnap grabs dreams legs. their interrogation of dream gets interrupted by your laughs. their attention gets turned towards you, “you dunces. he wasn’t attacking me, he was tickling me.” fundy and sapnap’s faces turns into a surprised look as they turn to look at each other before looking back at you and getting off of dream. “my bad bro. we didn’t know.” sapnap replies as he and fundy scurry off to the safety of philza.

you stare at dream with an amused smirk as he continues to lay on the ground, pouting at the sudden interaction. you reach your hand down to help him up, “why couldn’t you make friends with hot girls that would tackle me.” before he could grab your hand, you pull it back and walk away, teasing him. “wait y/n, are you actually offended from what i said?” dream stands up and jogs over towards you, “cause i love that you have friends in general.” your face scrunches up as you stare him, “okay, fox.” now it was time for his face to scrunch up, “what did you just call me.” he says, not stating it as a question but rather a statement. “i called you fox.” his eyesbrows raise in confusion, “i’m bunny and you’re fox.” dream stares at you before grabbing your hand and walking towards the castle, “okay, i’ll be fox if you’re bunny.” smiles erupt on both of your faces as you continue to joke around on your trip towards the castle.

the first time you say i love you back to dream is from the day he pouted the entire night and while also hiding from you in the safety of his room. “beau, what’s wrong with you today?” when he finally looks up at you, he tries to keep a stern expression, but it falls into a smile as he pulls you close to him. “why don’t you ever say i love you back?” small chuckles erupt from your body as you play with his dirty blonde hair, “because i thought you knew how much i loved you. but if you need confirmation, you could’ve just told me.” he groans in slight embarrassment, “i love you so much to the point that i would do anything you ask me to. i would even kill sapnap for you.” now it was dream’s turn to chuckle, “thank you y/n. i love you too.” for the rest of the night, he didn’t let you go, meaning, you had to sneak back into your common room at four in the morning, hiding from the watchful gaze of philza.

about five months pass, and your relationship with dream prospers. at any quidditch game, you or him would be spotted in the crowd, or actually versing each other. in that case, he would stay so close to you, occasionally throwing around flirty comments at you or basically handing you the bludger. other times, when you study in the library with techno or phil, he always sits in the corner of the library with george, never being secretive. “what george? say that again.” leaving you to ignore him. whenever parties occur, you always try to walk around and mingle while he attaches himself to your side, greeting everyone you talk to. when he gets deadbeat drunk, he becomes clingy times one million, “y/n, don’t leave me.” and you reply, ‘this is my room.” cries and loves to snuggles into your neck when you come back a minute later. you’re not gonna lie but man is in lsg, little spoon gang. he loves being little spoon when he’s drunk but sober dream is another story. always has to be big spoon to keep his reputation up and has absolutely no recollection of being little spoon, so its your little secret with drunk dream. when you do your homework, he lays on your bed, usually taking a nap despite his eight page essay being due the next day. weekly hogsmeade dates, will literally buy you anything you set your eyes on, not even caring about the price. sometimes you wonder where that money even comes from. in total, will chase you down nonstop while you run away from his antics.

your relationship is well known around the school as the complex bunny and the sly fox.

philza still doesn’t approve though.

[y0itsbri]

5 times Ian and Mickey eat ice-cream/popsicles together - shameless summer series 🍨🍦🥄

inspo from @ianandmickeygallavich's summer prompt list

moments from s2 - post-finale

words: 1.4k

the first time ian and mickey ate ice cream together was at the kash & grab. they had just finished helping lip stock up his ice cream truck with goods from the store. mickey focused on tuning out linda's obsessive ranting.

"you ever get anything from the ice cream truck when you were little?" ian asked out of nowhere, after a lull of silence had passed over them.

"the truck never ran in our neighborhood, numbnuts."

ian paused, considering, "oh, i guess maybe fiona took us to the parks sometimes. maybe that's where it was."

"probably." a pause.

"what would you get?"

"a joint."

"no, no, like from a legit truck!" ian rolled his eyes "i always got the bomb pops. carl always got the spongebob. he liked ripping the face apart."

"'course you would get the bomb pop, army."

"doesn't answer my question, mickey."

mickey flipped him off. "how about those little chocolate cones? those bitches always looked good."

ian smirked his dumbass smirk that mickey couldn't look at for too long without his cheeks heating up.

"what?" he asked, adverting his gaze.

ian headed towards the freezer. yeah, mickey could go for another round. he followed him until he saw that ian had stopped in front of the open door for a moment before turning around with two chocolate covered ice cream cones in hand. he handed one to mickey, cold fingers meeting hot for a brief second.

"i'll have to take it out of your pay check, of course," ian teased.

mickey simply glared his way, but softened when he realized the tone. "yeah? well i'd ring ya neck for even considering it, but it's hot as balls so i'm saving my breath."

"sureeee you are." ian smiled again.

it was quiet in the store except for their obnoxious slurping as the ice cream melted faster than they could lick it.

---

ian's been having a difficult time adjusting to his new med change. he was tired all the time, his usual go-getter motivation put on hold.

fiona usually only bought popsicles at the beginning of the summer. it wasn't the beginning of summer. it was almost fall. so no one knew how bomb pops were stocked in the freezer.

mickey knew.

carl wretched open the freezer, shaking the popsicle box upside down, the remaining three falling out. he took one for himself, passed one to a zombie-like version of ian sitting at the kitchen counter, and tossed another to mickey, who was reading a magazine at the kitchen table.

mickey furrowed his eyebrows. "i didn't ask."

"yeah, but you wanted one." carl shrugged and leaned against the fridge for a moment.

"thanks, kid." mickey mumbled after maybe somewhat of an awkward length of time. carl took that as a dismissal as he bounded up the stairs.

ian had been quiet, not even muttering a thanks. he managed to unwrap it, but not much else.

"'s your favorite, man," mickey nodded towards the bomb pop sitting idle in his hands.

ian half nodded and gave a sorry excuse for a fake smile. his popsicle dripped.

mickey frowned. patient, he got up from the table and sat next to ian, wiping the melted popsicle with his jacket sleeve.

they sat there quietly, eating their popsicles together, tongues cold and red.

mickey was trying.

---

ian and mickey had been in the car for hours now, heading further south with every passing minute. conversations fell anywhere from their past, their present, and their future. ian tried to keep his focus on their present.

"didn't you say there was some ice cream around here we gotta try?" ian wondered, memory flickering with something mickey had said a few hours ago.

"paletas de crema," mickey enunciated in a put-on spanish accent. he smirked. "yeah, man, we'll make a pit stop for it pretty soon. damon said it was to die for."

"wonder if damon's got himself arrested yet?" ian mused.

"nah, fuck him."

they stopped at some ma & pa shop down in texas near the border. somehow, mickey had a family discount.

mickey ordered pineapple, claiming to be a slut for piña coladas. he ordered a strawberry for ian, claiming to know what ian would like. he wasn't wrong. they switched ice creams for a couple licks and ian definitely preferred his strawberry.

mickey got a little on his chin and ian wiped it off without thinking, they both paused and stiffened for a moment, before acting like that didn't just happen. the uncharted territory scaring them both a bit.

---

"what's your favorite ice cream flavor?" franny asked, kicking her feet absentmindedly in the backseat of the new gallagher-milkovich van.

"really, kid? ya had a whole day of school you could be tellin' me about, but you wanna know about ice cream?" mickey argued with the six year old.

"mhmm," she nodded before staring out the window again.

"chocolate ice cream's my fav. what's yours?"

"strawberry!"

"'course it would be, strawberry shortcake. should we go get some, just the two of us?" mickey asked, pulling out of the school lot.

franny chanted for ice cream until the physical cups (not cones) were handed to them through the drive through. she frowned when she saw a third cup. there were only two people in the car, right? and this ice cream was green.

"what's that?" she asked incredulously.

"ice cream?"

"but it's green, uncle mickey!"

"'s pistachio. it's your uncle ian's favorite."

"we gotta wait for him before we eat ours then!"

mickey snuck a spoonful of his chocolate ice cream when fran wasn't looking.

mickey may have also broken several traffic laws to get them home before their ice cream could melt.

as soon as they were parked in the street, franny bolted towards the house, pink and green ice cream in hand.

"uncle ian, uncle ian! look!"

mickey slammed the car door behind him and picked up franny's backpack from the back seat. he glanced up to see franny nearly tackling his giant of a husband. he looked so enthusiastic about everything franny was telling him before he directed her inside.

mickey made his way over to ian's side, tossing franny's backpack at his feet with a thud before giving him a quick smooch.

"mmm," ian hummed. he smacked his lips together. a pause. "chocolate?" he asked, picking up the backpack.

"what about it?" mickey's eyebrows raised, somewhere between a threat and a tease.

"fran told me you were waiting for me."

"told ya i'm not good with rules," mickey smirked at him before following franny inside.

they all ate at the dining table while franny told both of them about her drama-filled day at first grade.

---

it was a hot ass summer and the AC in their apartment was on the fritz. they thought that moving to the west side would guarantee working utilities at all times, but apparently they were wrong because it was sweltering inside their bedroom.

ian couldn't help but lay on the bed and groan. he was shirtless, hair still a bit wet from his most recent shower, and he was utterly uncomfortable.

mickey had left to go to the corner store in a fucking jacket like a crazy person. so ian closed his eyes and waited it out.

he opened his eyes again to the sound of a wrapper being ripped open. mickey sauntered over to the bed, tossing his jacket in the corner. ian was distracted by just how good mickey's arms looked today that it took him a moment to realize what was in his hands.

a cold, cold popsicle in all its glory.

ian reached for it, but mickey moved it out of reach, instead dramatically teasing ian when he licked it.

ian didn't know if the heat or his taunting husband would be the death of him.

it looked like mickey finally had his share of fun fucking with ian. he brought the popsicle close to ian's mouth, hovering above his awaiting tongue. at the last second mickey dipped the popsicle below his mouth, messily dragging it down his chin, neck, chest. ian shivered at the chill, and then again as the sticky trail was covered with mickey's tongue, still cold from the popsicle.

ian would have to shower again, but he couldn't care less.

[dr-gloom]

So I'm watching the blooper reels while I'm working on masks and it's getting me into the "the sides and Thomas are all actors and friends creating the show" au so have these headcanons based on what I know of actors on and off set

- Patton is the one who keeps laughing at lines that aren't dirty but can definitely be Taken That Way (he'd laugh at this sentence too)((it took FOREVER to film dwit because he wouldn't stop laughing))

- ironically he also makes a shit ton of Jesus jokes

- theyve learned to pad the schedule around his scenes because of this

- Virgil's a goofball, just plain and pure goofball, bit of a himbo. He makes a lot of punny jokes

- when Janus and Patton have a scene together everyone knows one scene will take all day because Janus purposefully says his lines in ways to make Patton think dirty shit (plus he makes a ton of dirty jokes, we've seen that)

- Logan actually knows a lot of slang and quotes memes when he hears certain words (like quoting the duck vine when he hears "hey" said a certain way or the road work ahead vine) which makes everyone bust up laughing at the worst times

- Roman's hella nerdy outside of the show and laughs hysterically at the jokes Logan's character makes (another actor combo everyone knows will take forever to film lol)

- Thomas starts impromptu dance parties in the middle of scenes

- Virgil and Janus constantly make passes at each other and no one is sure if it's legit or a joke. He also just randomly sits in Janus's lap all the time (esp in svs)

- if Virgil gets stuck on a line by saying the wrong word, he's gonna fuck that line up all day

- if Virgil starts talking in accents he can't stop

- it turns into a Whole Thing with him, Thomas, and Logan

- Logan and Virgil swear the most out of everyone

- Remus randomly stops in the middle of a line and starts making baby crying noises when he stumbles or forgets the words

- Remus is the Chris Hemsworth of the group in that he goes out of his way to help the crew clean and set up between takes

- it takes like 30 takes to do a serious scene because Thomas keeps making the other person laugh

- Remus was hella awkward at first cause by the time he came along everyone was super close but they loved him immediately because he's seriously Like That and they find it hilarious

- Logan hates doing the songs but only because everyone starts laughing and it takes forever to get that shit done

- everyone had to slap Thomas's fake butt in dwit (you know what I'm talking about)

- one time Virgil slipped and smacked his head on the banister when he tried to sink out so that's why they let him just appear/disappear

- Remus will randomly run up to Patton and twerk against him which makes him crack up

- most of Remus's lines are shit he ad-libbed and they added it to the script

- all of Roman's nicknames are ones he thought of himself

- Joan physically cannot be in the room when Remus has a scene cause they can't stop laughing

- Roman was supposed to be the one going ham on a jar of crofters but he's allergic so they rewrote the episode

- Roman accidentally throws literally any prop he's ever touched

- Patton is actually very good at catching things so the takes where he fumbles stuff take a while

- Janus is physically incapable of stone-faced sarcasm when he's not in character

- they've made Logan reshoot scenes because he accidentally looks too sexy/thirsty

- they had to do the Christmas special so many times that Roman couldn't even look at spaghetti for like a year

- during the Halloween episode Patton couldn't stop laughing at Logan's chin

- he had to film his scenes separately because of this

- Falsehood was ad-libbed

- Roman wouldn't stop playing with his judge sleeves

- Janus is by far the silliest one, followed by Virgil

- the Butterfingers thing is actually an inside joke between Janus and Logan, Janus convinced Joan to put it in. When Logan read the script he laughed for ten minutes

- when Janus read the script for the episode he gives his name he actually cried

- when Janus pulls the Butterfingers from Patton's ear he laughed for ten straight minutes. Silent laughter, red face, tears, the whole thing

- Logan kept making faces at Roman while he was doing his bitchmas monologue

- everyone wants Logan to go apeshit

- Virgil constantly quotes the "aren't you tired of being nice?" Thing when Logan has to play the voice of reason and gets ignored

- Patton laughs hysterically when one of the others makes a dirty joke

- when Logan went off on the others during lntao (in bloopers) everyone clapped

- Logan went to a performing arts school, something the others never let him live down

- Roman is actually scared of puppets so they had to record his lines and overlay them with the footage of his puppet (the other three just sat below their puppets)

- getting behind the TV was 100% Remus's idea. He was supposed to pop up under Roman like Patton did to Janus

- "what the fue?" Is banned on set because they couldn't stop saying it once it started

[spiltscribbles]

Any chance you could give us some Arabic speaking Remus headcanons? Loved your latest fic ❤️ 📚

OMFG gorgeous sugarplum! I legit only just was reminded of this while scrolling through my inbox right now! But my heart is finna burst!!! Thank you SO SO much and yes I would love to give some Headcanons about this! Especially since the next long story I’m working on includes this dynamic, and I’m so excited about it!! However, common disclaimer that while I am Arab and culturally Muslim even if I don’t practice like the rest of my family lol, I am Palestinian and not Syrian. So with every identity there are different experiences and customs no matter how closely intertwined. So I apologize for any inconsistency   that a Syrian may read and disagree with, and please feel free to correct me<3 <3

.-

The FIC this HC is from 

.-

So first off some background on his mum in the story 

I chose the name Vivian based off a friend of a friend who’s uncle married a woman by that name back in Palestine,  so it’s definitely extremely uncommon, but a fully Arab lady was named it, so like it’s my defense bahaha. But it also means lively, and coupled with Hussein as her maiden name which means beautiful, it just fit her personality to a t!! 

She was born into a pretty secular family in Syria in the late 1920s, so there was a lot going on in that time period. But her dad was pretty influential, working in the government and such. Vivian was also the youngest of four girls and three boys so she was pretty spoiled tbh

She attended a boarding school in France through out her adolescence and decided to go to university there too, so she’s fluent in both Arabic and French, with pretty great English as well. Though she wasn’t exactly white passing, even though like a bunch of Syrians/Palestinians/Lebanese folk she was somewhat fair, she had distinctly Arabian features, like the large almond shaped eyes and thick lashes and thicker brows, and a long, largeish nose, accented by full lips. So she experienced a good amount of jeers and discrimination, especially when folks found out her surname. So I think she’s able to relate to Remus in that sense of being a wolf at least, and later on  when he comes out as gay.

It was 1950  when she and a few of her girlfriends went to Wales for holiday after completing university. The second Lyall first spotted her in the woods while she was trying to make it back to the cabin near the Irish Sea with her mates, it was something like love, because duh. She was a fucking knock out!! A babe and a baddy! Literally so far out of his league its ridiculous! But on Vivian’s side,  she was mostly just amused and a bit enamored by this cocksure Welshman who had the most endearing of crooked smiles that their son would inherit a decade later. So obviously she didn’t make it easy on him, but eventually she let him take her out on the last night of her trip, and was pleased to find out that they had the same sort of humor and the same passion for their careers and even the same love for the outdoors too.

 They had a long distance relationship for two years while she went to grad school so she could teach about classics while Lyall himself was rising the ranks in the Ministry for regulation and control of magical creatures— Unbeknownst to her, the Floo network  was very helpful with the distance. Just thank God Lyall himself is a Muggle born because he really had to fake the hell out of it lol.

So just to speed things up they got married on a lovely June evening in  1955,  subsequent to  Vivian excepting a professorial job in Cardiff after Lyall told her about the Wizarding world. At first Vivian thought e was tripping on some subpar edibles until he proved it by transfiguring her snuff box into a lovely broach that she kept for the rest of her life, So after Vivian was convinced, she became  absolutely enthralled by all of the magic so completely. 

They were trying for a few years when she finally became pregnant with Remus in 1959, and they were both so over the moon (pun unintended).

So like I said above, Vivian’s family are pretty secular, so I see her mostly practicing the cultural aspects of Islam. For example, every Friday— which is the equivalent to Sundays being the holy day  for Christians— she lights up the instance that she always keeps herself stocked up on after her annual trip to Syria, instead of the typical candles she ordinarily prefers.  And Remus swears that for the rest of his life whenever he smells it, he’s back to being a baby, puttering around the house and watching her dusting the shelves while humming quietly an Arabic song that’ played out the gramophone  by a man who’s music would soon become regarded as the song of the people. Or Remus would recall being snuggled into her lap while she read him a novel on the windowsill. Or he’d simply remember listening to his parents laughter fluttering in the air while he fell asleep by the fire, subconsciously making the flower buds closest to him bloom with his untapped magic.

Remus’s first clear memory— thanks to the endless pictures— is when he was around four years old, before the attack, and they were staying in Vivian’s home town in Damascus. While the men congregated out doors for cigars and cards and the women in the living room chatting while snacking on watermelon seeds, his older cousins— who were all girls— dragged him off to one of the bedrooms and doted on him because he was the baby of that side of the family. And he remembers walking out in a set of one of their heels and a headscarf wrapped around his head which made his Mama and Tata and Aumties laugh out loud and croon over him, and all his uncles and Sido call him Aumty Remus.

The attack by Greyback happened soon after they returned to Wales, and I’m not gonna touch on it becs I’ not finna depress myself. But it was a January morning after his first transformation and he remembers that when he woke up, he saw the cookies stuffed with dates resting on his bedside with a glass of milk that Lyall had put a cooling charm on. And they’re indulgent treats that Vivian makes for both Eids every year even though they don’t celebrate them in any other way lol. But the cookies always reminds him of family and of feeling safe in his mother’s arms, and they still work to make him feel better even after the worst thing he has ever experienced in his short life.

Remus’s love of poetry came from both sides of his parents, but it was listening to his mother recite the story of Majnun Layla in it’s original Arabic that really made him glow for the art form, and brought him to discovering his favorites like Auden and Neruda. 

There’s a ornate, wooden prayer box that has been past down on the Hussein side of the family for five generations, it was originally  meant to hold a Qran but for the past three it’s simply just been a beautiful piece of decoration. So when Vivian gave it to Remus when he was headed off to Hogwarts, little Remus asked McGonagall to help him with locking  charms so it could become a safe place for him to keep his most cherished of nicknacks ant momentos, so obviously,  she silently added a charm to keep the wood nearly unbreakable and the extension charm atop of that, like Hermione with her bag, so that he could keep as many happy memories as possible inside of it, and she prayed that there would be so many that it threatened to burst. 

The last time Remus opened the box was in 1996, when he was putting away the ring Sirius gifted him as a match to his own in some feeble promise of forever only weeks before James and Lily’s own engagement. 

Once during first year, he and the lads were staying up late, trading stories about how they got their most ridiculous scars— after seeing the one that scraped across Remus’s left shoulder blade— But it got to a point where they were all feeling a bit nippish, so they went down to the kitchens for some of the chocolate pudding that was served during dinner that night. And Remus idly asked the house elves if they could make him a batch of Kinafa because he was getting home sick and missed when he and his Mama would dash over to the city whenever they were feeling antsy, and she’d take him to their favorite hooka bar after buying a round of the dessert— which is basically sweetbread stuffed with cheese— from down the block. And they’d stay sitting beneath the starlight, and talking about her job and his lessons from school while she’d let him try a discrete puff or two and they’d laugh about everything and nothing at all.

The next time they stopped by the kitchens one of the younger house elves presented him with the snack gleefully, and it tasted fine, just not like how they do back home. So Remus smiled warmly at Tipsy, the house elf, and thanked her with real sincerity.

But his face must’ve betrayed him because after easter break, Sirius plops down a fresh batch of them on Remus’s bed before leaping into his own, casually mentioning that he saw how grossed out Remus looked when trying the one the house elves made, and it was from a restaurant close to Grimmauld so it’s not that big of a deal, and then he rushed to cursing at James for stealing his favorite pen and swearing that  if he broke it he’s gonna have hell to pay. Remus had only blushed and chuckled  with a small smile on his face when he cut himself a small piece and finished the half sheet off with the rest of their house later that night during an impromptu party that the Marauders would become infamous for in later years.

It was the summer after second year when all the marauders visited Remus back home in Wales and when they heard Vivian call him Qamar practically every other sentence, which of course lead to endless ribbing and eventually  to his nickname of Moony— even though it’s so fucking obvious and Remus loves and hates it in equal parts. God his friends are so fucking stress inducing!

Remus teaches the other marauders funny Arabic curse words and they use them in class so that they can talk shit about particularly disgusting Slytherins without them being any of the wiser. (Yes I did do this with my friends, and I’d do it again! POW! POW! POW!)

It’s from Vivian that Remus has an affinity for coffee as strong as shit, but also prefers his tea weak— specifically two sugars and a dash of milk. But seriously, if you’ve ever tried Arabian coffee you’d understand, that shit is so fucking strong it’s literally a hate crime LMFAO. But yeah, this habit is definitely a point of contention between him and Sirius— who’s actually so fucking posh no matter how much he wants to be punk, and he stands by only drinking black tea— like Merlin intended— and saying bugger off to any and all coffees. “Leave that shite to the French and Americans.” And Remus would try to keep himself from making eyes at him from across the table, because God Sirius is hot when he’s all fiery  and impassioned, even when it’s about the dumbest, most inconsequential shit.

Something that’s sort of funny is that Remus was the first among them to become a fucking pot head and could drink them all  under the table even though Sirius himself has got two stone and three inches on him. But Remus still refuses to eat ham, purely because he never grew up eating it and doesn’t care too now. Sirius had to specifically ask Euphemia and Monty to make turkey for Christmas dinner their sixth year just because he knew that Remus’s head would probably implode with the decision between being rude and not eating it or forcing himself to gag down the unfamiliar meat.

When Remus is really, really fucking drunk he definitely spends the night only speaking in Arabic! (Don’t look at me I’m trash just because I stole this from my own life lmfao) But yeah, it’s really fucking hilarious and Sirius swears to God he’s so fucking in love with him while listening to Remus ranting in the unfamiliar language. And he’s like positive that half the time he’s actually just cursing Sirius out but he doesn’t even care because it’s SO! DAMN! CUTE!  And sometimes Sirius decides to speak French at a drunk off his arse Moony, who occasionally replies back in a stiff staccato before returning back to the easy Arabic. And it’s just a mess.

Ok so sadness warning

In my head, Vivian loses her fight against breast cancer the July after the Marauders graduate from Hogwarts, and afterwords Remus gets a tattoo of her name in Arabic on his chest, and the word for soul on the nape of his neck. He locks away that battered copy of Magnun Layla in the wooden box she gave him years ago, along with a woolen  scarf that smelt like her perfume.

 It’s Sirius who buys a set of prayer beads to hang off her photo above the mantel in the flat he and Remus share, and when Remus sees it he literally feels like  he might crack open with tears, but opts to kiss Sirius thank you instead, and they stay tangled on the sofa for the rest of the day in quiet contemplation.

One night, in late 1979, while  the war was only getting worse and worse—  Sirius was hit by a cutting curse to the ribs. And it was really fucking bad, but thankfully James got him to his house in time for Lily to help and heal. He slept for the most part for nearly an entire day, but remembers snippets. Like when Remus had sprinted into the room with fear painted all over his soft features, and when James put a cooling cloth to his head. But most distinctly, Sirius recalls Remus gingerly lying besides him and Sirius talking gibberish at his boyfriend while Remus plunged his entire face against his back, eyes wet with tears and body shuttering as he squeezed him softly, saying something quietly in Arabic. Sirius obviously didn’t understand like 99.9% of it, but he did catch the word “Habibi,” which he instantly remembers as an old pet name Vivian use to call Remus with so much love it made her entire countenance sparkle. It’s an endearment  that means beloved, or darling, and it feels like Remus is begging Sirius to stay with him and Sirius’s throat is still raw from the screaming, so he can only  reply by dragging Remus’s hand up to his mouth and kissing his knuckles tenderly. And he knows that whatever he does for the rest of his days, he loves Remus Lupin with every cell in his body.

Oof this got mad depressing…. Chow anyways, I can add a picture of the container you’re suppose to use for the instance if anyone wants that?

Thank you again dear Nonny!!!

Ask Me For Headcanons About A Story I’ve Written Or For One You Want To See Written

[rawiswhore]

Hunter Hearst Helmsley x Fem Reader- "You're Beautiful"

During the 1980's, most professional wrestlers, especially ones in the World Wrestling Federation, weren't exactly Shawn Michaels-esque pretty boys.

There were a few that were pretty handsome and even were very over with females, but in the 80's, most professional wrestlers were quite ugly to look at.

And you were not attracted to them.

By the 1990's, before the Attitude era, you didn't care about professional wrestling, in fact, hardly anyone cared about pro wrestling before the late 90's Attitude era.

The WWF nearly went out of business during the 90's, after a decade when they made major pro wrestling draws like Hulk Hogan, Andre the Giant, Macho Man Randy Savage and even Rowdy Roddy Piper household names and popular enough to cross over into pop culture.

Even some of the men you dated during the 90's didn't watch wrestling before the rise of NWO and the Attitude era, because they felt like they were too old to be watching it, and it was so silly, childish, corny and lame.

Though, when they thought of wrestling, they thought of the World Wrestling Federation and hadn't heard of ECW.

However, on a Monday night near the end of 1995, which is considered to be one of the worst years of professional wrestling ever, you were sitting on your couch in front of the television in your living room, flipping through the channels trying to find something good to watch.

You usually love whatever is playing on MTV, BET, occasionally Vh1, A&E, TBS, Comedy Central, and other TV channels, those were your go-to TV channels growing up, and you even did watch a bit of those channels that night since those channels you usually watch.

You even sometimes watched Cartoon Network if they were playing a cartoon from your childhood, during the majority of the 90's, Cartoon Network was a channel that played cartoons from throughout the 20th century so adults could either see cartoons from their childhood again and kids of the 90's could watch cartoons their parents or even grandparents grew up watching.

You should've had a spare TV Guide with you to see what's playing on television, but you couldn't really turn to the TV Guide channel since they scroll down so slowly of what's playing on television.

However, when you were flipping through the channels, you stopped at the USA Network that aired the newest episode of "Monday Night Raw", the match displayed on television was a match featuring Hunter Hearst Helmsley, a rich, elegant, classy 1800's Jane Austin/Charles Dickens blueblood aristocratic gentleman (that's a mouthful!).

When you had seen Hunter, your eyes were glued to him and didn't switch the channel.

He didn't look anything like the wrestlers you knew from the 80's like Hulk Hogan, Macho Man and Andre the Giant.

Hunter Hearst Helmsley looked like he should be on the covers of those cheesy paperback romance novels with Fabio on the cover, not wrestling.

You weren't in love with Hunter for his wrestling talent, but for his looks.

You started to watch "Monday Night Raw" just for him, even if "Monday Night Raw" was so damn cheesy and corny during this time (though was slightly improving a bit), and you eventually fell in lust with other pro wrestlers on "Monday Night Raw", like Razor Ramon (one of the few wrestlers of the New Generation era that was over and a fan favorite), Bret Hart, Davey Boy Smith, Marty Jannetty, and of course, the Heartbreak Kid and sex symbol of the WWF throughout the 1990's: Shawn Michaels.

'Tis a shame that Lex Luger was in WCW by the end of 1995, because he's pretty hot too.

You felt embarrassed and like you had lost some brain cells watching "Monday Night Raw" in late 1995, but there were a few hotties in that wrestling company.

You knew that rock stars, rappers, professional athletes and even serial killers have groupies, and of course, professional wrestlers have groupies as well, they're called "ringrats".

You had seriously thought of being a ringrat for Hunter Hearst Helmsley as well as other pro wrestlers in the WWF like Razor Ramon and Bret Hart, and after fighting the temptation, you did one night go to a "Monday Night Raw" show to sleep with Hunter as well as other pro wrestlers.

You had thought carefully what to wear to "Monday Night Raw".

You are going to be a ringrat, and groupies usually always wear slutty, skin revealing outfits for men to lust at them.

Kayfabe is a word commonly used in professional wrestling to describe something as real, be it anything from Razor Ramon being Hispanic, Hulk Hogan lifting up Andre the Giant at Wrestlemania 3, and Mankind being a psychopath.

Hunter Hearst Helmsley's character was a rich, classy 1800's gentleman who scoffed at cads that were beneath him, would he turn you down if you were dressed half naked and showed a lot of skin?

Though, you don't just wanna fuck Hunter, plus, wrestlers are playing characters and even back in the 1990's anyone with an IQ above their shoe size should know that wrestling is fake.

Not to mention, while watching "Monday Night Raw", you notice there are prepubescent little children in the audience watching this, and you're afraid some little kids will see you in a pretty skimpy outfit.

It isn't an outfit too revealing, like being dressed in a thong and nipple pasties, but it isn't something you'd want your teenage daughter wearing.

You had thought long and hard on what to wear, if Hunter will like you in your outfit, and if you don't do it with Hunter, you can always move to Razor Ramon, a major ladies man, or Shawn Michaels.

You decided to dress in some tiny acid wash denim short shorts and a makeshift crop top that tied at your breasts, but you prayed and hoped that Hunter would still bang you even if you're not dressed elegantly.

Thankfully, the WWF rolled to a town that was close to you, and you had arrived to that "Monday Night Raw" taping dressed in that aforementioned outfit.

You had butterflies in your stomach and felt like a giddy, overexcited schoolgirl when you saw Hunter, Razor Ramon, Bret Hart, Davey Boy Smith, and other wrestlers you fancied, tears of happiness weld in your eyes seeing them, and thank God you wore waterproof mascara.

You waited in line with some other ringrats, you felt like a hyper kid on sugar deep down inside, you were so excited to meet Hunter as well as other pro wrestlers, but you wanted to meet Hunter first.

You had never had sex with a professional wrestler before or even anyone famous before, though you did do it with a few guys on the wrestling team in high school.

As you waited in line, you chatted with other ringrats about how this is the first wrestling show you've ever been to and you've never done it with a professional wrestler before, they couldn't believe you.

Then, eventually, it was your turn, and you could nearly wet yourself in meeting Hunter Hearst Helmsley in more ways than one.

You smiled from ear to ear when you approached him, and as you walked up to him, his breath was nearly taken away by you.

No, he wasn't just playing his Hunter Hearst Helmsley character, he really did find you absolutely beautiful.

Like you when you first saw Hunter on television, his eyes were glued to you and looking you up and down.

"Hi" you said as you walked up to him, waving one of your hands to him.

"Hello" he greeted, "What is your name?"

He still talked in a phony, terrible British accent.

"Y/n" you confessed.

"Pleasure to meet you, y/n" he welcomed, taking one of your hands as you got closer to him and kissed the top of it like the gentleman he played on "Monday Night Raw", keeping kayfabe alive.

You could nearly faint when he kissed your hand, your entire body could turn red from bottom to top like in cartoons when a character gets kissed, and you smiled so much.

"You are absolutely beautiful" he gushed, getting up and putting both of his hands on the sides of your face, his eyes observing your face and body up and down.

You stared at him with an ear-to-ear smile and felt like a giddy schoolgirl inside as he touched you, you were trying to contain your excitement inside.

You legit feel like you're at Disneyland meeting Cinderella or Mickey Mouse or whatever, meeting people playing fictitious characters and keeping their characters alive, making you feel like you really are meeting them.

"Thanks" you said "Believe it or not, I've actually never actually done it with a professional wrestler before"

"Well, let me be your first" he purred, grinning as he said that.

"I actually started watching the WWF because of you" you confessed. "I never cared for pro wrestling until I saw you on a Monday night and was flipping through the channels, I changed the channel and found you having a match and couldn't keep my eyes off of you"

"I'm so proud of you" he gushed. "You chose me instead of those other cads"

He really is trying to keep kayfabe alive, even though you aren't buying that he's an English gentleman.

Even his British accent is terrible.

"Awwww, thanks" you said, smiling at him and looking like AJ Lee when she looks in someone's eyes and smiles at them. "Most other pro wrestlers aren't all that handsome, but you are"

"Precisely" he boasted, grinning.

"Do you like my outfit?" you asked, pointing at your outfit. "I was trying to decide what to wear, and I was scared you wouldn't like what I'm wearing right now since you play a classy, rich gentleman that scoffs at people beneath you"

"You look perfectly fine" he admitted.

"Oh, thank God!" you thanked to him, breathing a sigh of relief.

"You're welcome" he replied, smirking. "You are such a beautiful woman"

One of his hands stroked the side of your face, his thumb tracing down your jawline down to your chin.

"I'm thinking of having valets, women that escort wrestlers to the ring, wrapped right next to me as I walk to the ring" he confessed "Would you like to my valet?"

Oh. My God.

Your face and body completely froze, you didn't know what to think.

This is what he had in store for you that you didn't know about.

It's one thing to be a ringrat, it's another to be a ringrat turned valet.

Does that mean you're going to be signed to the World Wrestling Federation and be his valet?

"I-I don't know" you admitted, stuttering. "Am I going to be signed to the WWF and be your valet escorting you to the ring?"

"Yes you are" he admitted, nodding your head.

"It isn't just me being a valet for you once?" you asked.

"Well, it's your decision" he suggested.

He is giving you that decision, but you don't know what to decide.

He's so handsome and so are other wrestlers in the WWF, that means you get to travel with him and fuck them.

But...you'll give up your dreams, and you're in something that's a little bit corny and embarrassing that hopefully won't get any worse.

"I don't know what to do" you admitted. "I'll think about it, maybe I can be a valet for you onetime"

Even Hunter thought you can be a valet for him just once, he doesn't know what kind of trouble you'll get yourself into since you're a ringrat.

"I came here to fuck you" you admitted. "Pardon my language"

"It's alright" he understood, nodding his head.

You didn't want to say how you also wanted to fuck some other wrestlers as well: Razor Ramon, Bret Hart, Davey Boy Smith, Shawn Michaels and even Marty Jannetty.

Hopefully his feelings won't be hurt if you go off to sleep with them.

You're not sure if you want to confess that you want to sleep with other wrestlers tonight, because you're afraid you'll upset him.

Maybe he might even show you off to those other wrestlers and how beautiful you are, and they'll wanna fuck you and it'll turn into an all out gangbang.

"Do you mind if I say this?" you asked him.

"What is it?" he asked.

You took a deep breath, preparing what to say.

"It isn't just you I want to fuck tonight" you admitted "But also Razor Ramon, Bret Hart, Davey Boy Smith, Shawn Michaels and Marty Jannetty"

His eyes grew wide hearing that you wanna fuck all of those people.

"I hope you aren't upset by it" you said. "Although, having promiscuous sex leads to AIDS and HIV, amongst other STDS"

"Exactly" he admitted. "I'm not upset"

Hunter's character is very possessive of his valets, as evident by next year when he was furious over Wildman Marc Mero stealing Sable from him or when Mr. Perfect/Curt Hennig stole one of Hunter's valets.

Even Hunter admitted his women are his toys.

Hunter shouldn't be getting way too into kayfabe and taking it so seriously, he isn't really a rich 1800's Jane Austen-like gentleman, especially since those kinds of gentlemen carrying canes didn't exist anymore in the 1990's except in movies and TV shows.

That's the problem with pro wrestling: some people take their characters so seriously, they still play them when the cameras aren't filming, and sometimes, when you play a character on any wrestling show, sometimes you have to play that character all the time if you appear on other television shows.

That can be fine, but what if you're playing a nymphomaniac and you have to appear on Regis Philbin and Kathy Lee's talk show, you don't really wanna fuck Regis.

You're basically signing and selling your soul to the devil.

Though, again, wrestling is not real, and anyone who isn't a prepubescent youth should know that.

Hunter would even like to show you off to the other wrestlers, about how he's thought of turning you into a valet.

There have been ringrats he's slept with who are beautiful women, but not as beautiful as you are, much to the dismay of them.

In fact, many women ended up becoming ringrats and sleeping with other pro wrestlers in hopes that they can become a valet and eventual WWF superstar thanks to you.

Basically the Sable effect: Sable joined the WWF because she thought it would be her ticket to Hollywood, and the Bella Twins and Eva Marie followed suit, many other women have been like that as well.

And there has been controversy over "16 and Pregnant" and "Teen Mom" on MTV because of allegedly teenage girls getting pregnant just so they can be on those shows.

Later on that night, you made love with Hunter, and he even showed you off to other pro wrestlers who were in lust with you as well, especially Razor Ramon, Shawn Michaels and Marty Jannetty.

Did you get to fuck them? Oh yeah.

And you continued to fuck Shawn and Marty next year, but sadly, not Razor, who had left the WWF to go to WCW.

When you had went home, you thought long and hard whether or not to join the WWF or not.

You eventually decided to join the WWF, which was both wonderful and horrible.

When you eventually became Hunter's ringrat, men would cheer for you, but not for Hunter, and you eventually started sharing your own ideas with the WWF's creative staff.

Eventually, you blew up in popularity in the WWF and became the most popular woman in the company, and the most controversial person in the WWF.

Some people knew about your story, how you were a ringrat for Hunter, he got a boner for you and turned you into his valet, and there were many ringrats sending angry emails and letters to you, saying that they're ringrats who've slept with whatever pro wrestler and they didn't get turned into a valet.

Many people also thought you slept your way to the top, you're a gold digger, and you're basically a wrestling Monica Lewinsky, Courtney Love or Lil' Kim.

It's really Hunter's fault because it was his idea to turn you into a valet.

_____________________________________________________________

I really hope that I haven't typed this fanfic already before.

[rome5683]

My Secret Mate - Chapter One

-this is an original piece, not a work of fanfiction-

I sighed to myself, slightly dreading what today would bring as I sat up in bed. I started getting ready, thinking of what would happen by the end of my birthday. The thought of having someone to love wasn't troubling, but not being able to choose who they were was. I didn't mind about gender, but their personality. What if they liked country, or if they hated reggaeton? What if they were human?

Human mates weren't exactly rare, but also not very common at all. It was just harder to explain, harder to connect with certain things, though many others with human mates in my pack made it look easy. It must be horrible, maybe. Would it really matter? As soon as I found my mate, I'd be like a hormonal and love-driven twelve year old all over again. It wasn't always something to look forward to, but when I would look at the pairs in my pack, I longed for that understanding and love.

I stepped out of the steaming shower, drying myself off with a towel before applying some lotion. Hygiene was important, after all. I put my boxers on, then flossed and brushed my teeth as hard as I could. Anything could happen today.

Mouth wash, cologne, a black crew neck and ripped black jeans later, I was almost ready for today. I slipped on some black doc martens, before glancing myself at the mirror and undecided about what to do with my hair. It was a black and curly mess, but I simply ruffled it and shrugged it off.

I walked downstairs, slightly confused when I saw my mom and dad bickering over something in whisper. I was used to tuning people out to be polite, and it was rude to eavesdrop even though we couldn't help hearing what everybody was up to most of the time. Instead of trying to listen in, I speculated it was about the party I planned for tonight, they promised to stay away for the night after opening up the party with ground rules and cutting the birthday cake. I had passed out fliers last week, so a lot of people from the pack and my high school were going. I was excited, the big eighteen was here, but I was still dreading finding my mate. What if they were cruel? What if they rejected me first? They were too many factors that had me buzzing with nervousness.

Mom gave me a stern look as I sat down in front of a plate of pancakes, "Xavi," her small accent barely showed on the usual, but when she said my name like that, it was prominent. The usual spelling of my popular name was with a 'J', but my mom decided to be original and put an 'X' instead. Most kids pronounced it wrong which I didn't mind, but if my mom heard them pronounce it differently, she would lose her shit. "I know it's your birthday, but you still need to eat your oats and your vegetables." She placed a bowl of oatmeal and a different bowl of carrots in front of me.

I groaned, "Can't you just give me bacon like dad?"

My dad smirked, biting into the strip of his bacon with a satisfied moan. I rolled my eyes and my mom shrugged, "Or we could cancel the party. It's up to you."

I scowled, biting the carrot with emphasized distaste. It was funny at times, how my petite mom could control us so easily with a simple look or statement, but she was no joke. She was the scariest, most loving mother around. The fact I was having this party was a miracle, but I guess she was feeling extra loving when she had said yes. Or maybe she thought it'd be better to find my mate with everybody from school there.

"So, you excited for today?"

I raised an eyebrow, "Yeah. I mean, it's gonna be the biggest party ever. And right at the beginning of October, it's gonna be sick."

My dad scoffed, "You know that's not what she meant."

My mom sucked in her teeth, scolding me. "Are you seriously not looking forward to meeting your mate?"

I shrugged, "I don't know. I mean, I don't wanna be someone I'm not just because I met them. Do I even have a choice in loving them? If I reject them, pain. If they reject me, pain. What's the point? Why is this even a thing?"

My dad sighed, "I know what you mean. Your mom and I had a very complicated start, but it worked out. It can suck, feeling like you don't have a choice at times. But the moon goddess knew what she was doing, and we're really good together."

"But it's like they have control over you!" I felt the frustration engulf me, making me dread the moment I'd meet them. "Everything they do is gonna affect me, and it just isn't fair."

My mom placed a hand on my shoulder as I continued to eat, and my parents were silent as I stood up to put my dishes in the sink. The whole tension dissipated as my two siblings walked into the room, and my parents perked up. Monsè entered the room with a yawn, all dressed up for school in a baggy sweater and skinny jeans. She was fifteen, and usually rode with me to school. My brother, Lance, was just sixteen, a year and a couple months older than Monsè, and liked to ride with his friend Keith.

"Good morning!" My mom chirped as she placed their plates on the table, asking if they were going to attend the party and that if they screwed up anything, to make sure to let her know because she hated secrets.

I motioned to my sister to hurry up as I got my backpack by the door, and got the keys from a little dish next to the couch. I leaned against the arm of the sofa, taking out my phone and texting Lindsay to wait for me to pick her up before she went to school. She was my best friend, and was practically my sandbox buddy since we were four. I usually went to her before anyone else, she had a good level-head on her shoulders, and was better for asking advice than most of my other male friends. I also made sure to text Trent, my other good friend and his sister, Bella, my occasional hook-up (make-out session) when I was lonely, to meet up at our usual cafe. They were all werewolves, so it was easy to confide and trust in them. A tap on the shoulder made me turn, and I ruffled my sister's hair. "Let's get going, gremlin."

She whispered with a scowl, "Yeah, okay bitch."

"MONSE! YOU BETTER PRAY YOU GET IN THE CAR BEFORE I GET TO YOU!"

Her eyes widened before she sprinted out the door, and I chuckled as I followed her into the car. My car was a truck, so it was a little difficult for Monsè to climb in the passenger side, but she managed. I connected my phone to the aux cord and put my playlist on. My sister rolled her eyes as 'Take Me Out' by Franz Ferdinand played, though I could see her tapping her feet to the beat which made me smirk.

Lindsay jumped in the backseat with ease, "Hey, boomer. Hey, Monsè."

"Hey, Lindsay!" Monsè chirped energetically and turned around, smiling with a blush spreading over her cheeks.

I laughed, "Where's my gift?"

"Oh." She pretended to pull something out of her backpack, then pulled out her middle finger with a Cheshire grin. "Almost forgot."

Monsè laughed, holding the back of her hand against her mouth.

"Oh, thanks. Was missing that in my life, actually." I looked in the rear view mirror, noticing she didn't have her seatbelt. I kept driving down the street towards the cafe, it was an hour before school, around six pm, which was why the street wasn't that full and I felt confident to be able to pull a prank on her.

"Brake check!" I suddenly braked as I pulled into the lot, having Lindsay hit her head on the passenger seat with a loud screech. Monsè gasped, her seatbelt scratching against her neck as she was pulled forward.

"Agh! Son of a bitch-"

"Xavi! What the hell?" Monsè gave me a dirty look.

"I'm so sorry, guys. You okay?" I made my voice sound sickening sweet, and high pitched in order to sound as fake as possible. Monsè snickered lowly, not wanting to be so upfront about laughing at Lindsay. Lindsay was somewhat of a role model for her, and they talked all the time. I low-key suspected Monsè had a crush on her, which was cute but slightly sad since Lindsay was way too old for her. But, who knows?

We pulled up to our usual cafe at the corner of Maple and Lunescape. I parked in front, all of us talking about what we'll order when we get inside as we got off the car.

Lindsay huffed, "See, I haven't tried the pecan pie shake, but I also haven't tried the Pumpkin Maple Syrup Mocha, which I hear a lot of good things about.

I hummed in thought, "Well, it depends who you're hearing this from. They could be trying to sabotage you."

Monsè scoffed, "And why would they do that, Xavi?"

I shrugged, "Hey, you never know. Plus, pecan is a legit flavor and it can never really do you wrong."

Lindsay sighed, "Yeah, but I get pecan like every other day. I've never tried the pumpkin one... Oh, the tough choices in life. They plague me."

Monsè chuckled, "However will you survive?"

I shook my head as I held the door to the cafe open for them, "You're too indecisive. Just go for it if it's bothering you that badly. If anything, I'll drink it if you don't like the pumpkin."

Lindsay gasped, "Oh my god, yes!"

She raced to the counter along with Monsè as I saw Trent and Bella wave me over to their booth. I approached them with a grin, giving Trent a high five and a fist bump, while nodding my head towards Bella in acknowledgement.

"Trent. Bells. How's everything?" I sat across from them, scooting towards the window.

Trent shrugged, "Nothing new. How about you, birthday boy? Excited to find your mate?"

Bells smiled, "Happy birthday, by the way."

"Thanks." I glanced over to Lindsay and Monsè to see them walking over with our drinks and pastries, "About the mate thing, it's whatever. Whether it happens or not, I'm fine."

Trent scoffed, "You're so weird, sometimesc. Everyone else in the pack looks forward to this their whole lives." He took an angry bite of his chocolate muffin, then swallowed before continuing. "I mean, even humans write stories about this kinda shit!"

Lindsay giggled as she squeezed into the booth on my side with Monsè, "Talking about mates again?"

I glanced at Bella, noticing she was intentionally staying silent. She looked up at me and blushed suddenly when our eyes met. I looked away, sighing exasperatedly. "Dude, I just don't think it's cool how we're forced to love someone. We have no choice but to be attracted to them."

Monsè groaned, "Because they're perfect for you!"

"Well, it's not really love at first sight. It's more like you subtly like them, and as you get to know them, you start to fall in love. Like normal people. Just think of it as a suggestion that they might be good for you." Bella smiles encouragingly, placing a hand on mine. "I'm sure your mate will be lovely."

I hastily pulled away, annoyed with the conversation. Seeing the slight expression of hurt on her face from the corner of my eye made me feel guilty, but I ignored the feeling. "I'm just gonna flat-out reject them, I honestly don't care."

Trent winced, "Isn't that supposed to be super painful?"

"He's always been a masochist." Lindsay rolled her eyes, sipping her Pumpkin Maple Syrup Mocha with glee.

Bella murmured under her breath, "Not really."

Everyone suddenly groaned, and I gave a small and playful glare to Bella.

Monsè faked a gag, "I just started my life. Please don't make me commit the 'not-alive' so soon."

Trent made a low growl, pulling his head back and closing his eyes as he faced the ceiling in an overdramatic manner. "Please tell me you guys aren't fooling around anymore. I do not wanna picture that."

Silence. He glared pointedly at me, "Are you?”

I stayed quiet, simply eating my strawberry and cheese croissant as I also avoided eye contact.

Trent cursed, "Fuck, man! Dude, she's my twin! How could you make out with someone that looks like me?"

I gave him a deadpanned stare as I sipped my boysenberry pie shake. The only sound was the slurping from my straw, and Trent narrowed his eyes at my both nonchalant and smug face. Bella looked at him confused, "We're fraternal, not identical."

He scowled, "Identical or not, this stops today. One, you guys are gonna have mates who you might not reject. Two, she's my sister. It's not cool, man. Three, do you not remember why you guys stopped fooling around in the first place?"

Bella's glared at her brother, "That was before."

Trent gave her a deadpanned stare this time, "Sure it was."

I shook my head, hating the awkward atmosphere that suddenly entered the booth. Last year, Bella had caught feelings during our arrangement, which caused a lot of confusion for me, and hurt for her. I ended it promptly after a huge scolding from her brother about playing around with her. He was the future beta of our pack, so I had to listen. But then she said she was over it now, so of course I believed her, since she was also a beta and somewhat had to believe her. But I wasn't that sure now.

I broke the awkward silence, "It's not like I'm sleeping with her, Trent. And even if I wanted to, I'm gonna reject my mate today. Maybe then I could choose who I wanna be with, whether it be physically or for life."

He took another angry bite, speaking with his mouth full, "Anf shwat if she doeshnt reshect hersh?"

I shrugged, "Thats up to her. Either way, I'd be free to do what I want."

Bella smiled to herself, and I cursed internally. I didn't want to hurt her, and I almost wanted to call it quits right then and there, but not for the reason you think, not for my 'mate'. Even though I could be physically 'lonely', it didn't mean I wanted to be forced to be with someone, whether it be Bella or my mate. The worst part was, there was no guarantee that I could reject my mate. Though I was determined to, there's no way to be able to predict what I'll think or act when I meet them. Though, the same thing could happen with Bella, so in reality, we were both in the same boat. Except I didn't have feelings for her in that way, I didn't have a desire to be in a relationship with her. She is physically appealing, but that was it. Sometimes I thought there was something wrong with me, she was kind and smart. Who wouldn't fall in love with her?

Me.

Lindsay changed the subject with ease, "So who's ready for that statistics test today?"

Trent groaned, "Is that today?"

Monsè went on her phone, not entirely interested or knowledgeable about what we were talking about since she was two grades lower than us. Bella shrugged, "I take AP calculus, so can't relate.

I smirked, "I studied, hard."

Lindsay raised an eyebrow, "That's a first."

I shrugged, "I wanna change my fate. I'm changing my life, one step at a time." Trent snickered as he heard my claims, "First, better than average grades. Second, no mate."

Monsè laughed, "Good luck with that one."

I scowled, "Mark my words. By the end of today, my mate is going to be rejected."

Monsè gave a cynical smile and a thumbs up, "Yeah, you're cool." Her smile dropped into a stoic face, "Can we go to school now before we're late? We've been here for forty minutes-"

I nodded, grabbing my keys and shooing them, Lindsay and Monsè, off my side of the booth. Trent and Bella stood up, walking with us outside.

"How about we make a bet Lindsay?"

She huffed, "You really think you'll win?"

I raised my eyebrows up and down with a grin, "Whoever gets a higher grade on the statistics test wins. Whoever loses has to drink five shots of tequila tonight."

Lindsay smirked, "You're on, bitch."

"Hell yeah." Trent patted me on the shoulder, "I'll join you guys in that."

I shook my head, knowing there was barely a chance for him to win. Not that he was an idiot or anything, but he didn't really try a lot in school. He rarely studied, but he always managed to get a passing grade. A higher score than Lindsay or me, though? Not really. "You know you only wanna take shots."

He shrugged, "Maybe. Or maybe I just wanna beat your ass."

I sighed, "Never gonna happen."

Trent chuckled, "What if I used my awesome beta powers to force you to lose?"

I scoffed, "They're barely worth anything. I'd just tell Ryder you're abusing your power."

Ryder was our pack's, which was named Blood Moon after his great-grandfather's threatening intimidating ways, future alpha. He was cool, and we hung out with him every other day, but right now he was out of town with his parents for a little family bonding. Since he was going to find his mate soon, his parents wanted to spend some more time with him. That's what they told the pack, at least, but Trent had told me that there might have been more to it, like how the humans were suspicious of something. I didn't pay too much mind, Trent was known to have conspiracy theories from time to time.

"He'd just join me!" Trent laughed.

I grinned as I unlocked the car for Lindsay and Monsè, "Fuck yeah, he would. But at least then it'd be a fair fight."

Trent flipped me off as he unlocked his car too, opening the door for his sister. "Race you to school?"

I shrugged as I sat down and closed the door, starting the car. I rolled the window down with a nonchalant expression, "For twenty?"

"I'm feeling charitable. Make it forty."

I smirked, "On your mark."

His face went into panic as he raced to his side, "I'm not even in the car yet-"

I raised a brow, "Get set."

He jumped into the driver's side, slamming the door.

"Go!" His engine roared to life as I reversed out of the lot, swerving to go forward towards the school. I wasn't confident I'd win, his car was faster than mine, which was why I cheated and took a small head start. He had a black sports car, I didn't really know what kind and I didn't care. My truck could be fast if I pushed the limit, which was okay since there wasn't a lot of people on the road. Save for some here and there.

Trent passed me with ease, smirking my way. I huffed, pressing the gas harder.

Lindsay held onto the dash board, "Damn, you really wanna win, huh?"

Monsè chuckled, "It's nice to see how testosterone can be fun."

I clenched my jaw, focused on the cars ahead of us. I didn't wanna break any laws besides maybe the speed limit, so I changed lanes to the right. It was a small detour, but with the red light, I could turn into another street and possibly beat him.

I laughed as I turned into another street, him stuck on the same one. I turned left, waiting for the green light, then left again. I sped more seeing the school just ahead, skidded just ahead of Trent's car, and into the lot with ease.

I parked right by the entrance, turning off the engine as I hopped out of the car. I saw Trent's car pull into the space next to me right after I pulled into mine, and I grinned smugly as I leaned against my car. He sighed, closing his car door and sauntered over with hurt pride.

"Listen..."

I held back a laugh, biting my lip. "I'm all ears."

"You're an asshole. And you cheated so..."

I held my hands up, "You never spoke about any rules, so..."

"Well-"

"Yeah?"

"I don't have forty on me right now-"

"What do you have, Trent?" I furrowed my brows, and squared my shoulders. I was putting on a front, of course. I held my hand out expectantly.

Lindsay placed her arm on my left shoulder as she cocked her head, "Yeah, Trent. What do you have?"

Monsè and Bella walked over, grinning at the spectacle. Trent wasn't always one to lose in our races, so it was a rare sight to see, which was why I was being so smug.

He rolled his eyes and sighed, pulling a twenty and a ten out of his wallet. He slapped them into my hand, "Fuck you."

I smiled, "Maybe when I reject my mate."

Trent playfully punched my shoulder, "Don't threaten me with a good time."

Lindsay shook her head, "You guys are something else."

Bella patted my shoulder, "So, you guys are a cute couple."

"Hey. Are you making fun of us?" We walked through the door and into the first hallway, and the faintest smell of something amazing filled my nose. I couldn't tell what it was, but something in me just had to find out.

"Maybe." She held her hands behind her back with a sly smile, "So wanna meet up during study hall?"

My wolf stirred, his gruff voice echoing in my mind. Mate. I froze, my heart skipping a beat. I could sense it. They were here.

"Hey, man. You good?" Trent's voice faded into the background.

I don't know what it was that made me ignore her and lightly jog down the hall. When I turned into another hallway, the smell got stronger, and I jogged a little faster. I could detect apple cinnamon, but not the strong kind, the kind you eat in oatmeal, and maybe some... I couldn't pinpoint the other smell. I walked into another hallway, I wasn't even focused on where I was at this point, and came up to a row of lockers. One locker was open, and I knew the smell was coming from there... from them.

The locker closed. My breath hitched, and I saw the most beautiful male I've ever seen in my life. I could hear my inner wolf howl at the sight of him. His hair was chocolate brown, and a straight, disheveled mess. He had a slight fade on the side of his hair, and his eyes were a solid dark green. His complexion was slightly pale but very clear, with prominent cheekbones, and with the slightest plump to his lips. His jaw was pretty clean, not super sharp to stand out, but enough to be defined. He wasn't much shorter than me, maybe by an inch, and his stature was slightly less muscular than mine. He was wearing a blue long sleeved v-neck, blue skinny jeans, and some vans. He looked to me, startled to see me blatantly staring at him, and I blinked in realization. Oh god. Oh no, fuck no. He's human. I can't just reject him without being a weirdo now. Why? I didn't expect my mate to be so... fucking ravishing. That's not the point. Jesus help me.

"Hey! Um, you must be wondering what I'm doing here... staring at you."

He let out a melodic laugh during the awkward tension, "A little bit, yeah."

"Well, I was gonna, um," I came to a blank, speaking without really thinking, "I was wondering if you heard about this party I'm having tonight."

His eyebrows raised a little, "I think I've heard about it, yeah."

"Oh, cool." I leaned against the lockers, biting my lip without really wanting to. I was flirting without even meaning to, "So, you going?"

"Maybe." He shrugged, "I'm not really sure."

I chuckled, "You see, it's my birthday. So you kind of have to go."

He laughed, "Is that so? Happy birthday, then."

"Thanks. Yeah, it'd be kind of a dick move not to go." I liked the playful banter, I felt my heart beat faster, and a warm feeling spread throughout my body.

"What if I want to be a dick?" That made me laugh, maybe a little harder than I should.

"Well... damn. That sucks. I was hoping I'd get to know you." His expression changed from playful to astonished, and maybe a slight blush forming on his face. Maybe. "No. Wait. That came out wrong. I mean, it's my senior year, and I wanna... meet new people. Broaden my horizons..."

"Oh. Yeah, no. I get it." He leaned his shoulder against the locker, tapping his finger against his backpack strap in thought. "Um, I'll think about it."

"Yeah." I walked a little backwards, "You better, because it's my birthday, so..."

He nodded, a smirk lining his face as he turned away. Jesus, even his backside was attractive. I felt a part of me curse, and a part of me felt so elated right now. I wanted to go punch something, to run and jump, I couldn't decide.

The warning bell for first period rang, and I tensed. Statistics was next. I'd have to answer why I ran off, though I suspected they knew the answer why.

I walked in just in time, sitting next to my usual seat next to Lindsay, Trent, and some girl whose name I could hardly remember. She was friendly, I guess.

I looked around, wondering if he was in my class. Was he in any of my other classes? The fact I'd never noticed him before should be illegal. A snap in my face got my attention, and I looked to Lindsay in confusion.

"What's up?" She frowned at me, practically glaring.

"What's up? What do you mean, 'what's up'?" She scoffed, her auburn hair swaying to the side as she looked to Trent as if to make sure she wasn't tripping out. She raised her pierced eyebrow at me, "What was earlier all about?"

I sighed, knowing I couldn't exactly lie to her. I debated on staying quiet, but knew she'd just bother me until I fessed up. "I met them."

She gasped excitedly, "You're kidding!"

"Miss Pierce! Is there something you'd like to share as I do roll-call?" Mr. Damocles was a burly man, frowning as he pushed up his glasses. Trent snickered.

Lindsay sighed, "Sorry, Mr. Damocles."

He continued to do roll-call, and she spoke in a whisper. "So, tell me what happened."

"Tell us." Trent corrected her.

I shook my head, mostly disappointed in my lack of resolve when it came to wanting to reject my mate. "I don't know his name..."

Lindsay's eyes widened, "It's a guy. Oh my god, yes. Was he cute?"

I failed to hide my smile, "Yeah. He had these eyes..." Thinking about them made my stomach do flips, "And his lips. Jesus, I couldn't believe I never noticed him before."

Trent scoffed, a smirk tugging at his lips. "You are so whipped. What happened? Did you... you know?"

I looked down, not really knowing if I planned to anymore. If I even wanted to anymore.

"Xavier Ramon."

I raised my hand, signaling my presence. Mr. Damocles continued roll-call, and Lindsay groaned impatiently.

"Well? What happened?"

I scratched the back of my neck, "I, uh..." I closed my eyes, slightly embarrassed as I replayed the scene in my head. "I asked him to the party tonight."

I heard a small chuckle, and I frowned at both Lindsay and Trent. "What?"

She looked to Trent with a grin, "I give it a month before he marks him."

"I give it three." He shrugged, "It takes time to build up a relationship like that."

"It doesn't have to happen during sex, Trent. It can be during a make out session or something."

I scoffed, "Nobody said I was going to accept him right off the bat-"

"But you're not rejecting him either." Trent smugly grabbed paper from the girl passing them out, and passed them to us as well. "So three months it is. Denial is a huge factor."

"I change mine to a month and a half."

I rolled my eyes, "Well, they're human, so it's a little more difficult. Plus, I just wanna know who I'm rejecting before I... reject them."

They both laughed, and I cursed under my breath. This whole mate situation was going to be a bitch.

——

@kaiparker-islife @fandom-strumpet @1-800-khaleesii @kaiparkercumslut @itssdiana

Pls reblog, like, and review ❤️

[army-of-mai-lovers]

hello arthur!! tbh people are being terrible in your inbox and the last ask killed my brain cells so this is your free bingo card to talk about anything you like. also sometimes googling sharks with human teeth (exactly what it sounds like) helps!! much love <3

oh my gosh I’m OBSESSED with these photos they’re so cute!!!! and thank you for the bingo card Effie I appreciate it so much. I’m gonna rant about Deadly Class (a show I definitely don’t like and thus don’t run a fan blog for....smh) bc it’s on my mind and it looks like it’s just going to go quietly into that good night instead of being made fun of and dissected and I think that should change bc goodness gracious that show does not deserve a dignified death. also I’m gonna put this rant under a readmore bc this is gonna be long and it has nothing to do w atla. warnings for discussions of racism, callous mentions of murder and death, swearing, discussion of Nazis, discussion of gore, abuse ment

Okay so for those not in the know (which is probably everyone considering the show was on Syfy and it’s being canceled due to low viewership) Deadly Class is a teen murder drama set in the late ‘80s starring Lana Condor, which makes it sound like it was engineered in a lab to appeal to me. Literally my friend and I were in the middle of watching Schitt’s Creek, which I adore, and she was like “well I heard about this show called Deadly Class” and described it and I was like fuck Schitt’s Creek we’re watching this. It had a 64% on Rotten Tomatoes, which usually makes me nervous, but I was literally like “I don’t care because I know I’m going to love it.” 

And well. I did not love it. 

I truly do not understand how one fucks up “teenagers (mostly) of color go to murder boarding school in the late ‘80s” that bad (I mean the Russo brothers are involved and they fuck up everything they touch so perhaps it was just that). I haven’t read the comic the show is based on but it does appear that a *lot* of the issues of the show stem from the comic, which is...disappointing. Basically, our MC, Marcus, starts off the show homeless after his group home burned down (and it’s heavily implied that he was the one to do it) and gets hunted down by these elite teenage murderers who invite them to their murder school. 

Already, numerous problems are starting to show themselves. First of all, Marcus is Latino, which, yes, it’s very cool that the MC is Latino, except he is literally the white-passingest man I’ve ever seen in my life, and I’ve seen my dad. I didn’t realize that he was Latino until they showed his extremely stupid backstory in a shitty animated sequence and whoever was voicing his dad did this really, really thick Nicaraguan accent and I was like wait a damn minute. So then, I looked it up, and the guy playing Marcus is named Benjamin Wadsworth, which immediately made me think that they had pulled a Noah Centineo and made me think this fully white actor was half Latino (and yes, Latinos can be white, but I think Marcus is supposed to be a nonwhite Latino, and I thought Benjamin Wadsworth was both white and non-Latino). But you know, as an light skinned ethnically ambiguous mixed kid myself, I thought I owed it to him to dig a little deeper, and turns out our pal Ben is mixed (also, he’s like six months older than me and married, which is a trip). And like, okay, I guess I’m glad they didn’t get a white non-Latino man to play a Latino character, but they literally got the whitest looking Latino they could think of to play him. He originally auditioned for Billy. Billy’s the token white. And the producers were like “wait you have Latino ancestry?” (how they found that out I don’t fucking know) and let him go for Marcus. And like. Okay. The character in the comics is light-skinned but he does not look white, and Benjamin is not a good enough actor for them to just pass on the actors who surely auditioned for that role and were more visibly Latino but like. Okay, I guess. 

Second of all, this show is mega racist and it starts to reveal itself when you look at how the murder kids are styled in literally their first appearance. What struck me the most was the fact that the Latina (whose name is fucking Maria, for heaven’s sake) was wearing a sexy red dress and Day of the Dead makeup, which, I’m sorry, huh? That just so happens to be the Mexican girl’s murder outfit? I’ve tried to give them the benefit of the doubt and speculate that maybe she wears it to like, subvert people’s expectations, but at this point idk how this is subverting anyone’s expectations nor why she’d be so invested in that. Also, she’s supposed to be a teenager. It’s fucked up to sexualize any of your child characters but it really hits different when it’s your Latina character (and yeah, I know the actress playing Maria isn’t a teenager, but still, it’s the principle of the thing). And then of course, the Black guy, Willie (no he’s not related to Billy they were just like yeah two guys with rhyming names in our main cast sounds legit) is a gangbanger dude who talks the way that white people think Black people talk. I keep waiting for this guy to have one line that’s not complete garbage, but I’m five episodes deep and so far nada, which sucks so bad because there’s like, kernels of an interesting character buried in this horrible racist trope. Also, they had him sleep with a N*zi. I hate it here. Lana Condor (her character’s name is Saya) gets off fairly okay, at least in this first shot (they don’t have her wearing a kimono to go murder people, thank fuck), but the way she behaves is super weird, like kinda flirty towards Marcus, kinda badass but not enough to actually do anything, etc. Billy’s white so they couldn’t make him a racist caricature or anything but I have no idea why he’s here. See, instead of talking about the real politics of the real world, Deadly Class makes up fake prejudice that honestly makes the lok bender/nonbender bullshit look sensible. Maria, Willie, and Saya are Legacies, which means that their families are established murderers (fun fact: the N*zi girl is also a Legacy, because her father murdered hundreds of civil rights activists. And the characters of color align themselves with her. I don’t understand.) Billy, and later Marcus when he decides to go to murder school, are Rats, meaning they have no affiliation with established murder groups. So, in this show, the people of color have privilege over the (mostly white) Rats. Make it make sense. Further, this means that Maria, Saya, and Willie should have absolutely no reason to hang out with Billy, and yet they do because the Russo brothers have heard that the kids these days like the found family trope, so they put five unlikely friends in a room together and insinuated that they could all be besties. I swear, this show is the La Croix of found family tho, in that there is absolutely no flavor whatsoever. None of the characters develop into a found family. Saya is bound to care for Marcus for reasons, Maria is using him, Willie is also using him, and Billy is only his friend because they’re both Rats. Saya and Maria are already friends (and honestly their friendship is the most compelling thing in the whole show). There are no other connections between the characters. But they’re totes a found family!!!!/s

Also, they don’t let Saya be mean. Every character says “oh Saya’s such a bitch” but do we ever see Saya being a bitch??? No! Saya is literally just a nice girl who is kinda quiet sometimes and murders people and has a tragic backstory. There’s an argument to be made for Maria being more bitchy than her tbh. And like, fine, if you want Saya to be nice, she can be nice, but stop telling me she’s mean then!!! If you’re gonna tell me that I’m gonna get to see mean Lana Condor in a leather jacket in this show then deliver bitch. 

There’s truly so much more I could talk about (Chico??? What the fuck is Chico’s arc???? What in the actual hell were they thinking when they were writing anything to do with Chico????? my DUDES WHAT IN THE SAM HELL. also making Billy straight was so fucking stupid he’s literally gay come on now, also Master Lin is so fucking useless what is he even doing here) but instead I’m going to outline the version of Deadly Class my friend and I have been talking about while we watch the inferior real Deadly Class. 

lots of things are the same actually because there are some elements of the show that have potential. Marcus is still homeless at the beginning, everybody still thinks he burned down the group home but he didn’t, Willie is still a pacifist, he and Marcus are still partners for their first murder school assignment, Saya’s mean (but like actually), Billy still has green hair and is the token white of the group (although a Billy of color.....thinking), and they all hate Reagan

in an ideal world Willie and Maria would have different names (Willie bc his name rhymes with Billy’s and that’s fucking stupid, also Willie is just a terrible name in general, Maria partially because it sounds way too similar to Marcus and I don’t understand why the guy who wrote this couldn’t make his characters have different sounding names, and partially because no Latina character of mine is going to be named fucking Maria), but for the purposes of this outline I’ll keep their names the same for clarity.

Marcus doesn’t initially have his rep. He’s on the streets when he sees a girl his age (Saya) come out of this elevator in the back of a restaurant brandishing a sword, and decides to go into the elevator, sees the stash of weapons, and decides to steal one so he can fend for himself better. 

also keeping the detail of Rory murdering a bunch of homeless kids, but now Marcus knows that Rory is actively hunting him down. 

in the process of robbing the school’s weapons collection, Marcus figures out that it’s a murder school

Master Lin catches Marcus robbing the school, they fight, Master Lin overpowers Marcus and ties him up. He says the weapons are for students only, and Marcus says he’s applying. Lin asks what his qualifications are, and Marcus says “you know that group home that burned down three months ago? all the kids that died? I started the fire.” 

(also no shade to Benjamin Wadsworth but in this version he is not playing Marcus. Marcus is not white-passing)

Master Lin initially doesn’t believe him, but Marcus presses on and eventually convinces Master Lin that this is really what happened, and so Lin welcomes him to murder school. 

Marcus’s first class is Poisons, and his lab partner is Billy, who takes a shine to him and shows him around school. There’s no Legacy/Rat nonsense, but you do have normal high school drama adapted slightly for murder school. Maria is the prettiest and most popular girl in school, Saya is the mean girl/valedictorian, Willie is the jock, and Billy’s the punky weirdo. 

Marcus is, of course, the new kid with a reputation to live up to. 

Things kind of fall apart when Willie and Marcus are paired up for an assignment: to seek revenge on somebody. 

also Willie’s backstory is extremely different. his dad was a Black Panther, and he was murdered by the FBI when Willie was a kid. distraught, his mom moved to Texas, where she started working a corporate job and rose really high in the ranks. To maintain her status in the company, she had to do some really horrible things, including working with the FBI to take down other civil rights activists. Willie found out about this and was absolutely horrified. his mother insisted she was doing this so that he could have a better life, but he refused to listen to her, and ran away, and ended up at murder school. 

Willie got into murder school because Lin knows who his mom is, and assumes that Willie is just as cutthroat as she is. he gains a reputation as well. 

also, Willie’s extremely wealthy, and this shows in the way he dresses (preppy jock vibes)

you don’t find out about this backstory for a minute tho bc unlike Albert Kim and the Russo Brothers, I can wait until the right opportunity presents itself for a backstory drop. 

ok anyway back to what I was saying earlier

they have to seek revenge on somebody. Marcus asks Willie if there’s anybody he wants revenge on, and Willie very sincerely says no. Marcus scoffs at him and says he’s clearly had a very easy life, to which Willie replies, “Well, who do you want revenge on?” 

Marcus immediately says, “Rory.” 

So they track Rory down, and since Marcus hasn’t actually killed anybody, he hands the weapons over to Willie. Willie frowns and says that he has nothing against this dude he’s never met before, so Marcus should be the one to hurt him. Marcus says that this is a group project and Willie’s got to pull his weight, and they get into an argument

the argument gets loud, and Rory hears them fighting and starts chasing them. 

in the midst of the chase, both of them divulge their secrets to one another. Willie laughs hysterically and says that they deserve each other bc they both lied to get where they are, and now they’re going to die because of it

Rory backs them into a corner, and Marcus uses one of the swords he tried to steal earlier to shank Rory

They throw the body in a dumpster, and after this, they’re friends, and Marcus decides he’ll fit right in at murder school. 

ok so that was only one episode but things to look forward to in the version of Deadly Class that only exists in me and my friend’s heads: Marcus dealing with the emotional and moral fallout of his first murder, Willie trying to figure out what it means to be a pacifist in a world so hellbent on doing violence towards him, Saya being mean to everyone except Maria, Maria convincing Saya to relax and have fun, the gang bonding in a Breakfast Club style situation adapted for murder school and making a joke about how this is like the Breakfast Club because it’s the 80s and the movie just came out, Saya and Maria falling in lesbians, Marcus and Saya being depressing edgelord besties, Billy being gay and fighting his abusive father, Marcus and Billy being uncool weirdo bffs, Willie and Maria rolling their eyes at Marcus and Saya’s cynicism, Billy coming out to Marcus and talking about his experiences being gay, which makes Marcus think “hang on, why do I relate to that?”, Willie seeing Marcus make a sarcastic comment about kissing a guy and having a crisis, Marcus and Willie falling in love, the gang taking a road trip to Vegas to murder Billy’s dad and giving Billy a gnc thrift store makeover on the way, and eventually the gang murdering the shit out of Ronald Reagan. 

[goblins-riddles-or-frocks]

Some F/GO Babylonia Thoughts:

I am A Fan of whatever is happening with evil!fake!Enkidu and how that just tangles with the tragedy of real!dead!Enkidu. I wish to see More of it

The flashback shot of Gilgamesh crying over Enkidu’s body is also really interesting from a character perspective. In Stay Night and Zero hasn’t ever shown much legitimate distress or emotional... depth tbh. He hasn’t really shown vulnerablity before, so that would be a new angle for him. (I still have some Zero related Gilgamesh thoughts I promised to post ages ago, I just need to clean it up... ever...) I hope this is a thing that’s actually explored at all. I wish to see him be put through the ringer lol

What the fuck is Rin Ishtar wearing?

What the fuck is anyone wearing?

I don’t trust Merlin. I don’t care if Aust says he’s not evil. He’s Suspicious

Gilgamesh is legit like “I will cause problems, on purpose” in the first two seconds he’s on screen. And he’s not even evil in this 😂😭

Also... if he’s alive in this then why are his eyes still red?? I guess you can blame the “two thirds god” thing but... why lmao

I am really upset to hear that random alley man voiced by Crispin Freeman is not in fact some kind of AU!Kirei. Also he legit just shows up, monologues, then disappears again. Dub directors really just hire this man for one (1) thing.

Also an unforgivable crime occurred: The party was traveling and Fou was asleep. But the characters were talking and they. woke. Fou. I am disgusted.

I call them The Party because this really feels like a game. I don’t mind it! But it really shows that this is adapting a game lol

Taiga needs to go away.

Also idk when this turned into a harem anime but I would like it to Stop.

There’s a lot of... questionable choices going on with Quetzalcoatl as a character. But I’m mostly astonished that her dub actress even got paid for that performance. Her voice changes every episode it’s so fucking bad 😭😭 either do an accent or don’t omg

I miss. Saber. where. is. she.

Aust and Ray are still accompanying me on this journey and we all lost our shit at the prospect of Gilgamesh just casually dying off screen lmao. But no ofc they go to retrieve him from the underworld xD

The gate question is like... when did this turn into Black Butler season 2 kjdsghdfhhdf

[magaprima]

Episode 1 liveblog

Richard coyle getting going postal vibes at the beginning

The miner look is definitely giving this terror a wicked creepy vibe.

Ah I’d forgotten how much I love the soundtrack on this show. It’s the tiiiime of the seeeeason.

Aaaaand of course Sabrina’s spell on mary didn’t work as planned

Omg I am loving the Hecate worship here and how mucho echoes things in actual witchcraft practice. I always love how this show does genuine nods to our practices

Full Sabrina moment there with her dismissing the possibility of doing something that risks destroying all time lines. Poor poor ambrose being like oh ffs NO

Aaaand Mary be alone and be drinking. Poor thing. And done a wee bit of furniture movement around the house apparently. Omg the way she nervously opens the door to Agatha because omg so many bad experiences.

And Sabrina is clearly depressed. I really hated how obnoxiously couply her friends were. I’ve experienced that myself and it’s so fucking rude

Omg naughty naughty Hilda with her naughty suggestions!!! But I’m laughing at how easily it’s working

OMG FAUSTUS PUTTING ON A FUCKING AMERICAN ACCENT AS PASTOR LOVECFAFT I’m dying. Also this fake church reminds me of the New Salemers in fantastic beasts.

Zelda’s looks are killing it in this episode. But omg the fears and dark thoughts the darkness whispers in zelda’s ear and how broken she is by it OWWWWW but YES HILDA COMING TO HER RESCUE AND NOT TAKING HIS SHIT

I am really not on board with the way Sabrina’s friends are being. Like Sabrina is to blame for a lot, but distance is not for one of them. And yes she did need to make up a reason to hang out because you all dismissed her suggestions and then started sucking face right in front of her

We’re getting very pushing daisies with this resurrection idea. Like legit so much like that show, even down to the timer. Loving it haha

So even Nick is hanging out with the mortals?

Oh okay so Sabrina no longer has cosmic level magic because her power comes from Hecate now

Sabrina Morningstar is loving hell clearly but when did she decide to get caliban out of the rock? I need to know this. But Sabrina M is THRIVING and she is definitely giving the ‘evil twin’ vibes I mean not actually evil but she’s clearly the darker one

‘Lilith has been super supportive’ loving that haha. I wish we’d got to see that supporting in the between of part 3 and 4. Also my god Sabrina glamoured as the minion and then them hugging and Lilith being like why the fuck is she hugging my minion; what’s going on?

I may love Sabrina M. Caliban is ‘totes sorry’

Ah more Hecate magic. The spells feel even more grounded this year

Omg mary turning to alcohol to deal with everything and then being attacked by the darkness miners and she follows blackwoods instructions of embracing the darkness and it saves her and now she is obviously gonna be fully dedicated to Blackwood because it’s the first time she’s been protected. Lilith/Lucifer parallels possibly?

Creepy fair music. Fun

Harvey being very Jeff goldblum in Jurassic park with that torch

The darkness tormenting Sabrina M reminds me uncannily of when the fear demon torments buffy in season 4 and he says she’s alone and in the end everyone always leaves.

I AM LIVING FOR THE HECATE LOVE AND TBE HECATE POWER

Also Blackwood seems to have cured Agatha of her madness but kept her very dedicated

Sabrina having a party with herself I kind of love because they’re the only ones who understand each other

And so concludes episode 1

[vagrantblvrd]

Random FAHC scenario where Gavin and Fiona meet up in the Europes before joining the FAHC AU and it’s like.

Gavin is this Cool Hacker and Fiona’s just...Fiona? Like. Fighty, but also a horribly human being/kindred spirit with Gavin and they’re like :DDDDDDDDDDDD when they realize they’re horrible human beings?

Sniper buddies on the side, too, because of course.

And they pal around for a while until there’s this Shiny they want to steal because reasons, only it’s been confiscated as evidence or is just taking up a place of pride somewhere with ridiculous amounts of security around it and they’d need all these resources and the whatnot they don’t have access to.

But then they’re vegetating somewhere and watching tv shows and on comes some detective show with the police consultant who is Super Sleuth not unlike Sherlock Holmes and they’re rolling their eyes because wow, terrible writing and worse execution of premise and the acting.

But.

It percolates in their brains for a while until they thing about the Shiny again and one of them is like “Hey, remember that asshole from that show?”

Because police consultant and such, privy to all kinds of things other people aren’t and somehow that translates in a Brilliant Idea of them pulling a Brilliant Plan.

One in which Gavin (because British) plays the Super Sleuth with Fiona as his assistant.

(The thing where she’s younger and, you know, a woman, which hahaha, the police/authorities they’re planning to fuck with are horrible mysoginists and it works to their advantage.)

ANYWAY.

It’s a long play, this plan of theirs in which they wow the cops with Gavin’s Super Sleuth-ness, which is just him and Fiona with the computer hacking and intel gathering and also, maybe, paying off some randos to help make them look like totally legit Super Sleuth and Assistant looking to become police consultants and so on.

Gain trust and respect and all this, and working their way to getting better access to the Shiny.

Actually put some legit criminal-types behind bars, naturally making new and exciting enemies along the way. Said criminal-types were real scumbags or potential hindrances or something along those lines.

After however long they manage to steal the Shiny and the police never figure out it’s them behind it?

But England/Europe is dangerous for them with the enemies they made or maybe they’re just bored of it or there’s a new Shiny for them in America, so!

Off to America they go, leaning hard on the Super Sleuth thing they’ve got going and work their way towards Los Santos building up this reputation for themselves as they go?

Like.

Minor celebrities kind of thing while stealing all the Shiniies that catch their eye along the way.

And then Los Santos, right?

Not exactly ideal for their shenanigans in which the cops don’t want people like them sniffing out all the corruption and the whatnot, but there’s this big Thing, some special Shiny and its owner has heard ever so much about the two of them.

Wants them helping keep it secure and all that - which, okay??? - and they’re like okay???

Plan to steal the Shiny and make a run for it before anyone catches on?

But the night of the big gala/party whatever where it’s meant to be on display there are all these suspicious characters wandering around.

Gavin flirting with this one guy who waltzes up to him at the refreshment table, all southern charm and pretty blue eyes and such a gentleman?

Fiona’s off to the side like jfc, just bone already because it’s ridiculous?

And then!

The power cuts out and when the lights come back on the Shiny is missing!!1!

The owner of the Shiny lets out this shriek and ~faints and it’s up to Gavin and Fiona to Super Sleuth who the culprit is?

ALSO.

This totally takes place on a  cruise ship because of course it does and is basically Clue but on a big, big boat. (I know, I know, ship, but whatever.)

Gavin and Fiona are joined by Mystery Blonde Man (whoever could it be, I wonder???) as they Super Sleuth their way along.

Occasionally there’s a Murder (defs mysterious circumstances) and More Tension!!!1!

Paranoia as party-goers suspect the person next to them of being the murdered and petty disagreements and such coming to light (Also confessions of adultery and bribery and just waaaaay too much Drama for anyone’s comfort? AND YET.)

Gavin and Fiona are like jfc because this is NOT what they signed up for when they came up with this farce of a con way back when?

Because of course there are the moments in which Gavin is Investigating - alone, because seperated in the dark - and gets attacked and knocked unconscious and Mystery Blonde Man is the one to discover him, because of course he does.

(And of course there’s that moment of Staring Into One Antoher’s Eyes and Unguarded Thoughts and Fiona standing right the fuck there, you assholes, Christ.)

ANYWAY.

Shenanigans (and light murder) until Gavin figures it out.

Realizes Mystery Blonde Man was behind it the whole time along with his associates. The bald bastard posing as a waiter, and the crewman with the Jersey accent and the Flashback Of Realization as Mystery Blonde Man pulls a gun on Gavin and Fiona and does the rueful apology thing because he really did like Gavin, you know?

Meanwhile Gavin is holding Fiona back from going for the asshole’s throat, or really, his ankles because she’s goddamned vindictive like that, and trying to make it look like he’s not? (Because Assistant!Fiona is sweet like angel and would never, you know?)

Maybe one of the security guards runs up to stop Mystery Blonde Man from absconding with the Shiny and about to shoot him?

And Gavin, like the idiot he is, jumps in the way to take the bullet for him.

(Because kevlar vest under his tuxedo and all the way Fiona’s wearing one under her ensemble - gorgeous dress or incredible tux of her own, idk both work great for me.)

 Mystery Blond Man is like :O!!11! because he doesn’t know about the kevlar vest thing and Gavin’s not moving (because he still got shot and that hurts like a mofo and also Drama and Angst) but it’s too dangerous to stick around so he escapes along with his associates not realizing Gavin’s going to be fine?

AND THEN.

Gavin and Fiona are still in the LSPD’s good books, not to mention the city at large and don’t know what to do about it just yet?

BUT.

Gavin’s Intrigued about Mystery Blonde Man and his associates and does his hackery mcgic while Fiona goes out to gather what intel she can from their contacts.

AND THEN.

Gavin goes out to some bar somewhere one night, dressed like the horrible little hacker gremlin he is in regular street clothes and sits down at this table in a darkened corner?

“Lovely evening, isn’t it?” he asks, because someone’s been sitting at the same table for a bit now.

Big, scary looking bastard in a leather jacket and ridiculous skull mask. (This close, Gavin can make out what looks like face paint under it??? Something like that anyway.)

Ryan, because of course it’s Ryan, freezes.

About to take a drink of his diet soda and sets it down slowly because reports about what happened on the cruise ship were way confused/conflicting and he thought Gavin died, you know?

Was out of town on a job for Geoff and the crew when the corrections were made and no one thought/knew to tell him because he’s kind of dumb about that shit and just bottled everything up, insisted on working through it. (Also, he barely knew Gavin and they were on opposite sides anyway and just. A whole slew of excuses.)

Gavin of course, doesn’t know any of that, just blithely goes on and on about the weather and the shitty band playing on stages. Kids looking to make it big and desperate for it and not really good but not terrible either, just. You know how it is.

And then he switches tracks, brings up the Shiny and the cruise ship and this whole Super Sleuth deal he put together afterwards.

Hackery magic and Fiona’s intel and the two of them with a murder board figuring everything out?

“Should ahve expected the Fake AH Crew wouldn’t be able to pass it by,” he says, referring to the Shiny, while Ryan’s just !!! because what is going on right now?

Worried he might have to kill Gavin now since he knows who Ryan is and all that? (Lol, try to, or at least look like he’s trying to, because FEELS)

And then Gavin gets onto the bit where he reveals the thing where he and Fiona are totally criminals in their own right.

Big deal, that, because it could blow up in his and Fiona’s faces so badly? But Fiona was tired of him moping around because of Mystery Blonde Man/Vagabond/Ryan and was like.

“Fucking tell him, what the hell do I care?”

So Gavin seeking Ryan out and this whole Thing and Ryan being so, so confused?

Like.

Why is Gavin telling him all this? (Why did he bother to track him down and such?)

And Gavin’s just like.

Looking at Ryan’s drink where the ice is all melted with the whole exposition dump that happened taking a bit and all.

“I’d like to buy you a drink, if you don’t object?”

At which point Ryan realizes Gavin has gone super nervous and awkward and it takes him another moment or two to realize why?

Because FEELS and weird date experience? But also criminals and weird everything anyway, and he’s just.

This little smile (because awkward nerdface) and says that would be nice, but maybe not here? If Gavin’s hungry he knows a decent place not too far away and they can get something to eat, and anyway, anyway, awkward dorks and their first date???

Which of course turns into more, with Fiona giving Gavin so much shit for his smushy feelings for Ryan???

The two of them keeping their Super Sleuth and Assistant con going and stealing Shinies here and there.

And then!

Some shenanigans in which members of the crew get caught, arrested, and taken to whatever precinct Gavin and Fiona are in good with?

Gavin and Fiona being like oh, shit when they see the Vagabond and whoever paraded past them headed to the holding cells?

Realizing nothing good can come of this because of course not, and then overhear some cops talking about planning an accident to make sure the Vagabond and whoever else is in there don’t make it to the morning?

So of course they have to break them out, almost certainly burning their Super Sleuth con in the progress, but that’s not important because FEELS? Also right thing to do, so!

They finagle their way to get access to Ryan and whoever and run into this FIB agent.

Stern woman who is all HMM when she meets them and gives them ALL the shit because of course she does.

Total asshole and Gavin is like :) and trying not to snap - Fiona is weirdly quiet about it, but whatever.

The FIB agent trying get Ryan and whoever transferred to FIB custody, but pissing contest with the LSPD and Gavin and Fiona planning a jailbreak?

FIB agent and her partner/team marching the Vagabond and whoever out through the parking garage and Gavin and Fiona about to break out the jailbreak plan, only for FIB agent to be like,

“You owe me, assholes, so fucking much,” as she unlocks the cuffs on Ryan and whoever because of coruse it’s Lindsay, you know?

Either running her own long play of being an FIB agent or just this one-time production, who knows, and Gavin and Fiona are like???

Because they kind of stumble into it, all ready with guns out and the like and Lindsay is like, “Took you guys long enough,” :DDDDDDDDDDD when she sees them, and idk, I’m losing the thread here yet again.

All of them having ot escape when the cops come down to try one more round of being assholes about things? But uh, wow, ALL the criminals and just a lot of yelling and shooting and Daring Escapes.

Gavin and Fiona being like shit because they just burned the Super Sleuth con for basically nothing? (Don’t regret the intent behind it? But wow, what a waste?)

Lindsay’s just :DDDDDDDDDDDDDDD because the crew could use people like them, and what do they say to a trial run with these assholes of hers?

(Ryan is trying not to be all hearteyes over the realization of what Gavin and Fiona did for him and whoever, and failing miserably because Ryan.)

Gavin and Fiona agree to the trial run, and it’s kind of great because ALL the assholes like them and fun criminal activities?

Also, bonus for Gavin in which he makes Ryan’s life the absolute worst? (But in a loving manner, and vice versa.)

Fiona is totes hearteyes over Lindsay because why wouldn’t she be?

Michael is off to the side like , jfc, because that asshole Gavin, but also that asshole Fiona and goddammit, what is with this city?

Geoff is like oh, God, now there are more of you assholes???

And then shenanigans, I guess, idk anymore.

[lunawho47]

Buzzfeed Unsolved: The Mysterious Doctor and the Omen of the Blue Box (Part 1)

Fandoms: Buzzfeed Unsolved and Doctor Who

Genre: Total Crackfic, Humor

Rating: 16+ (for language)

Summary: A script for Buzzfeed Unsolved, in which our two favorite jackasses, the Ghoul Boys, discuss the various internet theories surrounding the identity of various mysterious figures known only as “the Doctor” and the blue box that tends to appear around them.  Well, Ryan wants to discuss the theories; Shane thinks it’s all urban legends and bullshit.

A/N: So, I’ve read a lot of these mock scripts going around for Unsolved discussing CW’s Supernatural as though it was real, and I thought they were hilarious.  So, my brain started wondering what theories the reddit and conspiracy boards would think up about mentions of the Doctor, the Doctor’s companions, UNIT, and Torchwood.  And to be honest, my brain came up with A LOT of theories that would make sense, and this format seemed a fun way to discuss all of them.  It was originally going to be a one shot, but as I started writing, Shane kept interrupting in my head about how stupid all of it sounds, and that kept making the script longer and longer.  So, it’s now going to be a few parts long cos the history of DW (even when seriously truncated) takes a long time to go through when you try to use the serials to make arguments about the Doctor’s potential identity(s).  

So, here’s part 1.  Please let me know if you like it and would like to see more.  And if Shane and Ryan sound anything like themselves because if they don’t then the whole thing is nowhere near as funny as it should be.

Ryan: Today on Buzzfeed Unsolved we're looking into the puzzling mystery of an entity known only as "The Doctor" and the corresponding omen of a blue box.  It's a mystery that, in its more comprehensive moments, is whimsically strange and, most of the time, is just plain batshit bizarre.

Shane: Okay, so I can hear the air quotes around the name, and you called it an entity.  Are we talking like, cryptid creature that is based in reality or am I going to be sitting through theories about zombie plagues and Ant-man Ax murderers again?  Just what am I in for here?

Ryan: No zombie plagues, and the Doctor has never murdered anyone with an ax.  At least, not in any of the records available. It's just...well, it's hard to explain here, so let's just get right into it.  Just bear in mind this is Gene Wilder Willy Wonka levels of weird when it's at its most sensical.  And it's rare that this story makes any sense at all.

Shane: Alright, I'll confess I'm...intrigued.  I'm ready to listen.

Ryan: Alright, here we go.  *opens folder*

Ryan (in his Unsolved VO):  The first documented evidence of a being calling itself "The Doctor" is in the files of now deceased British UNIT officer Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart.

Shane:  Wait.  UNIT?  What's that? Sounds like something out of a video game.

Ryan: (wheeze) It does a bit, yeah. But there is paperwork evidence that verifies this group -- lame as the acronym is -- actually existed.  They were set up in the mid-1960s by the United Nations to look into unexplained phenomena and for a long time they were a covert operation.  The British Prime Minister knew they existed, and they answered to Geneva, but they weren't known to the wider public until after they shut down three years ago.

Shane:  I'm sure that meeting went GREAT.  'Hey, everybody, thanks for coming down this Monday morning. Erm...thanks for protecting us from alien invasions for the last 50 years and for keeping such a great secret about it.  Here's your reward: you're all fired, and we're going to tell the entire world what your names were and let you deal with the press about it for the rest of your life.  Have a great rest of your Monday!'  (Wheeze) What a bunch of shitty bosses.

Ryan: I mean, based on what little there is to read about how UNIT operated, the Brigadier we'll be talking about really had to go to bat for the organization in front of the Prime Minister a lot over the years in order to keep the operation going.  After the Brigadier died, they were able to keep going for awhile, but as you'll see from some of these stories we'll be looking at today, the organization was considered obsolete long before it was disbanded.

Shane: Okay, so the Doctor first appears in conjunction with this UNIT?

Ryan: Right, so in the 1960s, there was some weird circumstance that led to the London Underground shutting down and the Brigadier, who was only a Colonel in the regular British army at the time, ran into what he described as a "(quote) man with a foppish haircut, ratty waistcoat, and tartan patterned clown pants; a young teenage girl; and a full Scotsman (end quote)."  

Shane: So which is the Doctor?  

Ryan: In this case, it's the first description.  The man with the clown pants on.  (wheeze)

Shane: (wheeze) Do you think he had clown shoes on, too?

Ryan: See, I know exactly what you're picturing right now.  You're thinking of a guy with a depressing Beatles haircut and complete clown regalia, including the extra large shoes.

Shane: I am.  100%  And you know, given some of the things we saw when traveling around London, including on (*with a terribly fake posh Oxbridge accent*) the Tube, a man dressed as a clown running around the platforms underground wouldn't even register as weird on a normal day.

Ryan: (Conceding) That is true.  And on a normal day, I'd agree with you.  But, bear in mind, this was the 1960s -- not the modern day -- and the Tube at the time was closed to the public because of this unknown threat the army was trying to deal with.  And what's even more notable -- the reason why the future Brigadier apparently wrote about it in his official report to the Prime Minister -- is that the man who called himself the Doctor, together with the two other civilians, saved the day.  The details are sparse, but the Brigadier makes it clear that the Doctor is the one who figured out what was really going on and managed to deal with whatever the situation was with minimal casualties.

And that's just the first time the Doctor and the future Brigadier crossed paths.  There are later documents that report the Brigadier -- now promoted from Colonel and officially a Brigadier -- came across the same man and Scotsman, but a different young girl in London just weeks after the military organization known as UNIT was founded.  And AGAIN, whatever the situation actually was, the Doctor and his friends were the ones that helped UNIT save the day.

Shane: Am I the only one who finds it suspicious that the details are always missing?  Like, shady organization set up by the government to look into extraterrestrial happenings?  Sure. (*puts hands in the air in surrender to argument*) I'll buy that.  Governments do shady shit all the time.  But, I mean, things like shutting down the London Underground and alien happenings in the city of London itself.  People are going to notice, right?  And how shitty are the Brigadier's write ups that no one remembers or knows any of the happenings in Britain's capital?  "Dear Prime Minister, stuff happened.  Doctor did some other stuff.  Stuff stopped.  The end.  TTYL."  Sounds like someone was crap at his job and when things just luckily worked out, everyone just swept it under the rug.

Ryan: You see, I would agree with you there.  BUT...there are pictures.  We can't show them to the audience because of copyright, but if you know where to look online, people love to discuss the Doctor and all the people who have gone missing while looking for the Doctor, so.  Investigate at your own peril. But, Shane, here you go.

*the audience can't see the photos hidden by Ryan's open folder, but we see Shane's expression.*

Shane: (*laughs*)  That Doctor looks like a moron.  I mean, I still think the Brigadier must have been crap at his job, but he was bang on his descriptor of the Doctor looking like a clown.  And I take it the guy in the kilt is the Scotsman?

Ryan: Yeah, I looked up what full Scotsman means when I read the description and apparently it means a guy who wears a kilt with no underwear on underneath it.  Before that, I just assumed that it meant this other guy was wandering around the Underground, playing bagpipes and singing songs from Highlander or something.

Shane: You thought this guy was wandering around singing Who Wants to Live Forever over a decade before the film came out.  (wheeze)

Ryan:  Well, when we get into the theories that idea won't seem entirely out of place, I don't think.

Shane: Well, I'm going to go ahead and call a preemptive bullshit on that theory.

Ryan: Noted.

Ryan: (back in Theory VO) The next record of the Doctor's appearance comes about in the 1970s when a man is admitted to a local hospital after collapsing outside of a blue box in the woods.

Shane: There was a blue box in the woods?  Like, human sized or was he scrunched up in it like Shroedinger's cat?

Ryan: We'll get back to the box in a minute, but it's larger than a human, yeah.  In fact, it was something called a Police Public Call Box, which were common to see on city or town street corners in Britain in the 1950s and 1960s. The idea was that if police or citizens saw a crime being committed, they could either phone the police from the box or shove the criminal in the police box and go fetch a policeman.  But what's weird about the box in this case is: 1) it's in the middle of the woods, and not even on like, a hiking path or anything.  But, the legit WOODS.  And 2) it's the 1970s and police call boxes are no longer really a thing at this point.  But, once the man calling himself the Doctor gets to the hospital it gets even stranger.

Shane:  I mean, everything about this story so far feels like the Brigadier spinning a yarn, but keep going.

Ryan: So, the Brigadier gets a phone call from the hospital that a man called the Doctor has been admitted to the hospital.

Shane: Wait, how did the hospital know to call the Brigadier about that?  Was there a national bulletin?  Is the Doctor a wanted man or something?

Ryan: I don't know, man.  Maybe the police just call UNIT whenever something with the label "fucking weird" comes across their desk.  I don't know.  This is just what the report says.

Ryan: (theory voice) Due to a situation UNIT was overseeing in the area at the time, the Doctor's appearance was notably auspicious for the Brigadier, so the UNIT officer went to see if his friend could help with the investigation.  However, when he got the hospital, he discovered that he the man calling himself 'The Doctor' was not anyone he recognized.

Shane: Wait...what?

Ryan: (laughing).  I told you the situation at the hospital is weird.  So, the Brigadier is told that this man who has helped him out before has been admitted to a hospital that is nearby a situation that UNIT is investigating -- a clear sign, in the Brigadier's mind, that this Doctor who is injured is the same one he's met twice before -- and then discovers that it's a completely different man.

Shane: Well, I mean...that's not *too* weird.  I mean, the man is in a hospital, and you usually see doctors in a hospital.  And I'm sure a lot of doctors are known more by their title than their surname.  There are millions of doctors on the planet, so I don't know if two different people wanting to be called Doctor is all that unusual.

Ryan: (with a haughty smile) That makes perfect sense, but listen to this.

Ryan: (Theory voice)  The Brigadier assumed at first that the patient calling himself the Doctor was a coincidence and started to leave the room.  However, he found himself called back when he heard the unknown man call the Brigadier by name. The conversation made it clear that, not only did the patient know the Brigadier's full name, but also knew the circumstances under which the Doctor and the Brigadier had met both times before. Information which, at the time, was highly classified and known only to those in the Prime Minister's office and those who had been in the UNIT planning room at the time of the situational crises.

Shane: Okay, I'm going to call it.  I'm going with spy.  I think the Doctor is a code name and this guy inherited  the call sign and the information from the Doctor's previous operations.  

Ryan: So, you think this is like, a 007 scenario?  

Shane: I mean, I'm sure you'll peddle some alien abduction theory or some other supernatural bullshit, but...yeah.  I'm going spy call sign.  Makes sense to me so far.

Ryan: Well, you might not be a *total* dipshit, but...we'll see.  There's still quite a bit more to cover. This isn't even the tip of the weird iceberg.

Shane: (sarcastically) Oh joy...

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me -Chapter 71

Warning: profanity

Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @alievans007​

“We need to talk.”

It’s the easiest way to transition into it that he could come up with. After the meeting with Anil, he’d stalled as long as he possibly could. Spending the remaining hours of the day keeping the news secret while working himself to a state of sheer mental exhaustion attempting to come up with the best possible way to tell her.  Plastering a smile on his face and adopting an easy going attitude -both fake-  while both doting on and spoiling his pregnant wife AND spending time with the kids; easily submitting to every request and demand while simultaneously showing them with affection.  

The moment he’d seen the photos of Neysa and Aarav, he’d known his fate was sealed; he’d be going to Dhaka and there was a damn good chance he wouldn’t be coming back. Too many ghosts there; too many painful memories. The cards already stacked against him before he even steps foot in Bangladesh; an enormous bounty on his head, his face and name plastered everywhere and readily available to everyone from normal citizens to the police to the military. It will make navigating the streets extremely difficult. His side and build alone will attract considerable attention AND suspicion, and if he needs to talk to some of the locals, they won’t have a hard time recognizing his tattoos or pinpointing his accent.

Seven years ago he’d been the one initially in the background; simply there to protect the person entrusted with getting the information needed before it was time for his part of the job to begin.  And even if he is successful in both getting around Dhaka without being spotted AND getting the three safely out, the chances of surviving himself -even with backup- are slim. Once the shooting starts, the place will become a war zone; regular citizens, the cops, the military. It won’t take long for them to assemble, and no matter how quick and quiet the actual extraction is, getting himself the fuck out will become the biggest hurdle. The end is often the hardest push; when you’re exhausted and hurting and mere minutes...mere feet...from freedom.  That’s when you tend to let your guard down; thinking you’re in the clear and you’re finally starting to catch your breath and the adrenaline is beginning to wane.  He’d made that mistake in Dhaka the first time around; believing he’d taken out the last of his targets and that situation was no longer ‘hot’ or ‘hostile’. Until Farhad had shot him from behind and put one in his neck. It's the worst mistake he’s ever made on the job; turning his back and thinking he was in the free and clear. It was a huge fuck up; completely uncharacteristic on his part. And he’s determined not to screw up that badly again.

This isn’t the way he wanted to spend his night; telling her about Dhaka and his decision to go there. But despite his best efforts it’s been eating away at him; struggling to keep that smile on his face and his nerves and emotions under control for the sake of his wife and kids. There’s so much going on inside of his brain that’s hard to prioritize just what to feel; which one the emotional should be first and foremost. Pure and utter rage directed at Mahajan for ever getting OVi -and in turn, everyone around him- involved in such bullshit in the first place.  Frustration at having to take so much time off to recuperate; unable to help get things handled sooner. Fear and worry not only for himself, but that he’ll have to once again be away from his family and rely on others to keep them safe. So much torturing an already battered and weary brain that he feels as if he’s struggling to hold on to his last threads of sanity.

“Uh-oh,” Esme frowns, as she raises her head from his chest and looks at him.

It’s a beautiful night; no humidity and a cool breeze blowing through, no sounds but the rippling of fountains in the ponds below and the chirping of crickets. After all the kids had settled, they’d retreated to the balcony off their bedroom; lying together on the two person lounge chair, both of his arms wrapped securely around her and her head resting against him. Neither of them speaking; her body completely relaxed against his and her eyes closed; his wide open and staring up at the night sky while his brain continues its torture.

“I don’t like the sound of that,” she says. “Nothing good  ever comes after ‘we need to talk’. I should know; I use it all the time. Nothing about us, right?”

“What?” Tyler gives a small, incredulous chuckle and then combs a hand through her hair; palm settling against the back of her head. “Of course not. We’re good. We’re more than good.”

“I saw your face; after you talked to Anil. I knew something was up right away. But I also knew you weren’t ready to say anything. That’s why you threw yourself into doing things with the kids and waiting on me hand and foot. You were totally stalling.”

He nods.

“It must not be good news then. For you not to say anything right away.”

“It’s pretty bad, actually.”

“Okay…” she rolls over onto her stomach and rests her chin on his chest. “...just how bad are we talking? Are you talking normal bad, pretty bad, or pretty fucking bad?”

“Pretty fucking bad,” he says, as he pushes her bangs off her forehead and tucks hair behind her ears. “In all capital letters.”

“They need you back out there, don’t they.”

“Yeah. They do.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised. It was bound to happen. I’m actually more shocked it didn’t happen sooner. I guess I should just be happy that we got as much time as we did. I was only expecting a couple days and I got over a week. That’s pretty damn good actually; a lot better than the times you go away and you don’t come home for almost a month.”

“I said I’d stay. That I wouldn’t leave you and the kids here alone.”

“We’re not exactly alone. And while I would prefer you here and not out there getting shot at and God knows  what else, at least it isn’t just the kids and I trying to fend for ourselves. Things aren’t going well out there, are they. They’re not doing so good on the list?”

“Anil says they’re down to two names. That’s a lot quicker than I thought things would go.”

“So why do they need you then? If they’ve handled everyone else on it so far, what makes the last two so difficult?”

“It actually has nothing to do with the list. I wish it did though.”

“Oh God,” Esme groans, and glides her knuckles along his jaw, beard rough against the skin. “I don’t like that look on your face. What’s happened? What’s going on?”

“They got to Neysa and Aarav. Mahajan’s people.”

Her eyes widen in panic. “They’re not…”

“No. They’re not dead. But if things keep going the way they are, they’ll wish they were.”

“You saw them? How? A video? Pictures?”

“Both. Pictures were taken three days ago. Video was this morning.”

“How do they look? How bad are they? How…?”

He keeps his emotions under control by continuously sliding his fingers through her hair; marvelling at the way moonlight causes it to shimmer and just how soft it is to the touch. “They’re pretty banged up.  But they look more scared than anything.”

“I know I would be.  That used to be my worst nightmare when I did what I did. That someone would catch on to me and grab me and take me somewhere to teach me a lesson. Did they make any demands? What do they want? What…?”

“There’s more to it.”

“It gets worse? How much worse could it possibly get?”

“They’ve got Nathan too. He’s pretty fucked up. Was putting up a good fight though, I’ll give him that.”

Esme scowls. “That doesn’t make any sense. He’s been gone for a week and a half and they’re just letting you guys know they have him? Doesn’t that seem a bit strange to you? That they’ve had him all this time yet they didn’t reach out? You’ve been in the game a hell of a long time. Think of all the things you’ve seen and heard. Don’t they usually reach out before this?”

“Usually,” Tyler admits. “Why? What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking it’s weird. That all of a sudden he just shows up.  Just as quick as he left. And how convenient is it that they have him? It’s been a week and a half and there hasn’t been a single peep from them all that time? How bad did he look?”

“Pretty beaten up.”

“Was he missing any body parts? Did he  look like he could walk on his own? Did it look like they’ve been starving him?”

“He looked like Nathan. Just a fucked up version of him. Like he caught a beating but nothing too major. You think it’s faked?”

“It’s happened before. It’s how you got sucked into the whole McMann thing. Those pictures of his wife and his kids. Would it honestly surprise you if Mahajan sunk to that level?  If Nathan IS the mole, is it too far of a reach to think he’s in on it and making it look as good as he can?”

“He did drop my name. First and last. Told them I’d be the one who’d come and get him.”

“Sounds like he’s trying to lure you there,” Esme concludes. “I don’t trust him, Tyler. Not after everything you’ve told me.”

“The files you got from the Marines didn’t show anything out of the ordinary.”

“Doesn’t mean there isn’t, though. Just means he wasn’t caught. You don’t trust him, do you? You can’t honestly tell me you believe him.”

“I saw it. The video. Seemed legit.”

“So did April McMann in her video. We need more proof. That it IS Nathan. Because we find out it IS him, we can just leave him there to rot.”

“Can’t leave Neysa and Aarav . Gotta get them out somehow.”

“You mean someone has to get them out,” she corrects. “Because I know you’re not talking about yourself.”

His fingers continue to move through her hair; pushing it away from the sides of her face and over her shoulders, palm sliding slowly along  the back of her neck and down to the middle of her back.

“I know you’re not talking about yourself,” Esme says. “There’s no way you are. Because you are not ready for that kind of thing. Not in the slightest.”

“I’m almost at ninety percent.”

“Since fucking when? This morning you said it was seventy five. You just skipped ahead another fifteen just like that?”

Tyler sighs. “Baby…”

“No. Don’t you dare. Don’t you ‘baby’ me. You ARE talking about yourself. When it comes to getting them out. You weren’t talking in general.  You actually meant you. As in you have to do it.”

He nods.

“An extraction. They want you to do an extraction.”

“I’ve done hundreds of them. You know that.”

“You don’t have to do this one. Tell them no. Tell them you’re not doing it; that you’re not ready for that. Because you’re not. And you’re lying if you say you are.”

“I’m in a lot better shape right now than I was seven years ago for Ovi’s extraction,” Tyler argues.

“That’s bullshit and you know it. Yeah, you had your issues back then. Most of them caused by booze and those stupid goddamn pain meds. But you were in damn good shape. A week and a half ago, someone drugged you. They were going to take you God knows where and do God knows what to you. Your back is messed up, your knee is fucked, and your shoulder is even worse. And you’re lying to yourself if you say those things are better now.”

“I’m almost back to where I am.”  

“No. You’re not. You’re nowhere near it. So you’re going to tell Anil you’re not doing this. That you’re going to stay here with your family. Where you're safe. Because you’re not safe out there. Even in the best shape you wouldn’t be. Tell them, Tyler. Tell them to get someone else.”

“There IS no one else,” he argues. “Who do I have...besides Nathan...that’s done an extraction? We were holding off on hiring more experienced guys until this was over, remember? That’s what we agreed on. That once things were done and settled, we’d bring more people on. And now Nathan’s caught up in this and I have no one else. There’s only me.”

“Then tell Nik to get one of her people. One of her experienced guys.”

“She doesn’t want to bring anyone else in. It's a big enough mess as it is.”

“Anil must have someone.”

“They took out seven of Anil’s best guys. And they do bodyguard work; that’s it. He went into business with us so we could supply him with mercs. So he doesn’t have to train his people to do this kind of shit.  There is no one else.”

“There HAS to be. There can’t be just you. There has to be someone else.”

“Esme…” His voice is firm as he takes her face in his hands. “...there’s not.”

“And let me guess; you already told Anil you’d do it. You already made up your mind. I don’t really get a say in all of this, do I.”

“I can’t leave them there. I can’t. And I know you wouldn’t want me to. She’s your friend.”

“She is,” Esme agrees. “But you’re my husband and that makes you a little more important to me. And I know you’re not ready for this. I see the pain you’re in; I see it every second of every day. And it was bad enough before all of this. I do NOT want you doing this.”

“I have to.” He presses her lips against her forehead. “I have to. I can’t leave them there. I owe it to Saju to get them out. After what he did? Giving up his life to protect you? And Ovi? I have to do this.”

“Unreal. You are fucking unreal, you know that?” She shoves his hands away from her face, then angrily yanks the sides of the hoodie around her body as she sits up. “I love you, but sometimes I don’t fucking understand you. Why would you go back out there? Why wouldn’t you just stay here with me and the kids?  Why are you so hell bent  on going back onto the street and getting killed? Don’t fucking be who you were seven years ago. Because lots of people rely on you to be okay. Don’t be a selfish prick, Tyler!”

“You mean the selfish prick I was seven years ago when I didn’t tell you to fuck off in Dhaka? That selfish prick? The one that fucked you and still kept you around even though he should have sent you away? The one that dragged you into this life? Who helped bring kids into it? THAT selfish prick?”

“Don’t you even start with that shit! That is way off base and you know it. You didn’t force me to stick around. You didn’t hold a gun to my head so I’d marry you and give you children. So don’t even start with that.”

“I didn’t exactly stop any of those things from happening, did I.”

“Because there was nothing wrong with what we were doing! We both knew what we were getting into. I could have said no in Dhaka, but I didn’t. Because I wanted it to happen. I wanted you. In the same way I wanted to marry you and have a family with you.  It is NOT the same thing.”

He snags her by the back of the sweater when she attempts to stand. “Where are you going? We’re not fucking finished. We’re talking about this.”

“What’s there to talk about? You made up your mind. You’re going. You said you’d go, then go. Pack your shit and leave. If Neysa and Aarav are more important to you than your own family…”

“How can you fucking say that? Nothing is more important to me than you and my kids. Don’t stoop that low.”

She tries to wiggle out of the hoodie in order to free herself, then heaves a loud, angry sigh when he wraps an arm around her waist to keep her in place. “We should have talked about this. You should have come to me first.  Not just go ahead and tell Anil you’d do this!”

“That’s what you’re pissed about? That I didn’t talk to you about it first? I don’t need your goddamn permission.

“It’s not about needing my permission. It’s about respecting me enough to let me know ahead of time you’re sending yourself out on a suicide mission. And talking about needing permission? Oh that’s rich, Tyler. Who’s the one that always needs it from you? I can’t even volunteer at the school or go to a moms social group or have friends because you don’t want me to. Yet you can’t talk to me about this?”

“When have I ever told you that you need my permission to do anything? It’s not about not wanting you to do things or talk to people, it’s about wanting to keep you safe.”

“Because you’re paranoid as fuck that there’s always someone out there wanting to kill me!”

“Well right now there are people who want to kill you. So can we not fight about this?”

“Leave me alone,” she orders, and tries to use her elbows to push him away. “Let go of me.”

“No.” Tyler tightens his hold on her, then sits up. “You’re not going anywhere. We’re going to talk about this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about!” Esme insists. “You already decided. You’re going. So go.”

He curls his other her waist and then slides behind her; a leg on either side of her body, chest pressed against her back. “Don’t talk like that.”  He presses a kiss to her temple, then her ear and her cheek.   “You don’t want me going.”

“That’s EXACTLY it! I DON’T want you going. I want you to stay here. Would you stop?” She huffs dramatically and once more attempts to squirm away from him. “Leave me alone! Don’t be so kissy and touchy feely and shit. I’m mad at you!”

“You never stay mad at me for very long.”

“I can hold a grudge for a very long time, thank you very much. So don’t test your luck, buddy. I love you, but I could shake the ever loving shit out of you right now. I don’t understand why you would agree! I get that you feel some kind of responsibility because  you brought Saju into things in Dhaka and look how that ended. But there are other people who can do extractions. Are you suddenly the only experienced merc on earth?”

“No. But I’m the best. And I’m the only one with experience at Anil’s disposal. And I know I said I’d stay here, but I also told you that I gave Anil mu word that I’d go back out if I was needed. And now I’m needed.”

“You’re needed here too,” Esme reminds him. “Or did you forget that?”

“The kids will be fine. They’ll be safe here. They’ve got Nik and Anil’s people watching over them. They’ve got all those nannies and they’ve got Uncle Kyle. Ovi’s even going to come and stay and give them another familiar face.”

“I notice you didn’t mention. Where am I going to be?”

He presses a kiss to her cheek. “With me.”

****

“Oh what a damn second!” She uses her elbow to push him back. “You’re deciding THAT now too? That I’m going with you and getting involved in this?”

“Well technically you are involved in this.”

“Fuck your ‘technically’. I’m not in the game anymore, remember? I’m just the supportive wife. And I’m not feeling very  supportive towards you right now. Why the hell would I get mixed up in this?”

“I might need your help.”

“How could I possibly help you? Moral boosting blowjobs? I don’t think so.”

“I might need an intel person. If Anil can’t find out what I need…”

“Then get one from him. Or Nik. I assume they both have intel people.”

“I don’t want just any person. I want someone I can trust. And I trust you.”

She frowns. “You really need to broaden your circle of trust, you know that?”

“It’ll be two or three days. Tops.”

“Did you suddenly forget we have children?”

“There’s a nanny for each one. And two extra.”

“I’m their mother!” Esme argues. “Addie isn’t even three months old yet!”

“Three days tops,” Tyler insists. “They’ll be fine. There’s tons of people here to take care of them.”

“You’re insane. I’m pregnant, remember? And you want me out there on the street? Are you serious right now?”

“I just need you to do some intel. It’s not you people will recognize. It’s not your face that’s plastered everywhere. Not yet, anyway.”

“You are not helping your cause.”

“You’re smart. You’re tenacious. You’re strong. And I trust you. I need you.”

“I may be all those things, but I also have a human being inside of me. That YOU put there. Yet you want me out there? Tyler…”

“You’ll be fine. You can do this. You won’t be alone. I’ll always be watching your back. You know I will.”

“This is insane!”

“Baby, I need your help.  And I know I said I’d never ask for it again…”

“You’re right. That’s exactly what you said.”

“But I trust you, With my life. More than I trust anyone else.”

Esme sighs heavily, body finally relaxing against his. “Before I agree to anything, I need to know where we’re going.”

“That’s where it gets a little complicated,” Tyler admits.

“Oh fuck. Of course it does. Why do I even ask? Where is it?”

“Dhaka.”

“Are you out of your fucking mind!” She uses both elbows to shove him onto his back, then springs to her feet. “Tell me you’re out of your fucking mind. That you’ve finally lost it. Because that is the only thing that can explain this. Tell you’ve actually snapped and gone insane and that’s why you’re doing this.”

“Esme…” he sits up and reaches for her, fingertips brushing against the backs of her thigh before she steps away; backing her into the balcony railing. “Esme…”

“You can’t be serious! Dhaka? You want ME to go to Dhaka? Of all goddamn places! You know the last seven years have been like. How screwed up I am because of that place and what happened there. Yet you want me to willingly go back. Are you fucking crazy?”

“I can’t help where they’re being held.”

“No. You can’t. But you can say  no to going there. And not expect me to go there.”

“It has to be me. I’m the only one who can  get them out. I can’t help where they’re being held.”

“I am not okay with going there. And I’m definitely not okay with you going there. Did you forget you have PTSD from that place? From what happened on the bridge? Because I can’t forget that. I can’t forget what happened and I certainly can’t forget what it did to you.”

Tyler slides forward on the lounge chair, perching on the edge as he lays his hands on her hips. “I need your help.”

“I can’t go there. I can’t. Because I will lose my goddamn mind if I do. Because all I’ll be able to think about is what happened seven years ago. All I’ll be able to think about is what happened in the woods and what happened at Gaspar’s and what happened on the bridge. I can't do that to myself. Why would YOU do it to me?”

“I’ll be with you. You’re not going alone. I’ll be there and I’ll have your back; nothing’s going to happen to you. I need your help, Esme. And I wish I didn’t. Or at the very least, I wish I trusted someone else. But I don’t. I trust YOU. And I want you to do this. I NEED you to do this.”

“I can’t!” she cries. “I can’t go there. I can’t, Tyler. It’s too hard. I’m still dealing with left over shit from seven years ago. But you want me just to walk back in there like it’s no big deal? You don’t realize how bad that place would fuck me up? Even worse than I already am?”

“I’ll be there with you. We’ll be together. I won’t let anything happen to you. You trust me?”

“You know I do. But this isn’t about whether I trust you or not. This about being able to mentally survive that place. What if I get there and totally lose it?”

“You won’t.”

“What if I end up back on that bridge? I WON’T get past that. I will not be able to cope with that.”

“I’ll be there with you,” Tyler stresses. “I’ll get you through it.”

“Oh that seems fitting, doesn’t it? You having to get me out of Dhaka and off the bridge a second time. I don’t want to go there. And I definitely don’t want you going there. You almost died there!”

“You don’t think I know that? I’m the one who got shot in the fucking neck.”

“I almost lost you to that place once. I don’t want the second time to be successful. And what if something happens to both of us?”

“Nothing like that is going to happen.”

“If something or someone takes both of us out, our kids are left with no one. No mom, no dad. Then what? What happens to them? They go into the fucking system? They end up separated and in foster homes?”

“Kyle will take them. We agreed on this; it’s all in writing, in a legal document. But nothing is going to happen. To either of us. It’s an easy in and out.”

“Isn’t that exactly what you said about Dhaka last time? You were pretty sure that was going to be easy, too. And it was   fucked up and it was scary and I do not want to go through that again. If something happens to you….”

He tightly squeezes the backs of her thighs. “Nothing is going to happen to me. We’’ll go, you’ll get the info I need, I’ll get shit, we’ll get the fuck out. That’s it.”

“This is nuts.” She lifts the bottom of her t-shirt to her face, wiping the tears from her cheeks onto the gray fabric. “Going there is nuts.”

“Believe me, baby. It’s the last place I want to go. But that’s where they are.”

“You know they’re baiting you, right? That they’re baiting you into going there? Why else would they be in Dhaka? There’s no other reason. Other than to fuck with your head.  They’re hoping it will mess with you and you’ll make a mistake and that way they can catch you off guard and kill you. You realize that, right?”

“I do. But I’m not going to make a mistake. No mistakes this time.”

“I don’t even understand how they ended up there. Why would Mahajan take the risk of sending his people into Asif’s territory? He’s not stupid; he knows that would kick up a whole lot of trouble.  Asif might be dead, but there’s people keeping him very much alive.”

“He didn’t send his own people,” Tyler explains. “He’s using Asif’s people.”

“They’re working together?”

“Putting their issues for a common cause, I guess.”

“Oh my God.” She runs both hands down her face. “This is insane. This is pure fucking insanity. And we’re going to walk right into it?”

Tyler nods.

“How? You just said your name and your face are out there. That they’re coming knowledge. How…?”

“There’s always a way. All I need to do at first is get from the airport to the hotel. That’s it.”

“And then send me out into the street to get what you need.”

“I don’t even know if I WILL need you. But if Anil doesn’t come through…”

“So who is going to be watching my ass?”

“I will.”

“How? If you can’t get out on the street…”

“I will find a way. You have to trust me.”

“I DO trust you, Tyler. But this is messed up. Going back there? We’re asking for trouble.”

“Trouble is already here.  It found Neysa and Aarav. And unless we do something about it on both ends, it’s going to find you and the kids and I will a put a bullet in my fucking brain if anything happens to you or them. Anil ends Mahajan, we take care of shit in Dhaka. End it all once and for good. No more fucking around.”

“It’s not that easy!” Esme argues. “It never is! So we go to Dhaka and I find out where they are and you go in and get them and get out. You’re forgetting about all the steps in between. All the people that will be there to stop you from getting them out.”

“They won’t even know I’m coming. Catch them by surprise.”

“And if there’s twenty of them? Thirty of them? Forty? You’re good. You’re damn good. But you’re not THAT good.”

“I won’t be going in alone,” he assures her. “I’ll have back up. Koen and Rata and a couple of Nik’s people. It’s not like I’m going in by myself. People inside with me, people outside. All the bases covered.”

“This isn’t going to be another incident like a week and a half ago, is it? Where you think you’re going to have back up and find out  the hard way you don’t?”

“I completely trust these guys.  You really think Koen will drop the ball? He’s probably more protective of me than you are. I’ll be okay. I know these guys know what they’re doing.”

“I wish I had as much confidence in them as you do.”

“You trusted Koen enough  to get him to babysit me,” Tyler points out.

“It wasn’t babysitting. I wanted him to keep an eye on you. Because you’ve been struggling. In a lot of ways. And I didn’t want this whole thing breaking you. Breaking US.”

“Do you think it is? Breaking us?”

“Do you?”

“Honestly? The ‘us’ that existed even a couple of years ago? That ‘us’ wouldn’t have survived this. One of us would have walked away by now. Probably you.”

“Would have you let me? Walk away?”

“I would have fought like hell to get you to stay. I learned my lesson the first time. And I fucking hate myself that I was that weak and that much of a fucking coward back then.   But now? I’d stop at nothing to get you back now. So yeah; two years ago I would have fought. But probably not as hard I am willing to fight now.”

“Is it weird that I actually this crap has made us stronger?  I felt it when you first got here. That night we were lying in bed and you were holding me and we were talking and there was something so different between us. Something suddenly seemed so amazing and so right. More than it ever has before. It was like overnight we changed. Like we became what we’ve been fighting to be for seven years. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah,” his hands tighten on her hips and he pulls her into him, allowing her to stand between his splayed thighs. “Makes sense.”

She pushes both hands through his hair, fingers locking together at the nape of his neck. “You have to promise me something, Tyler.”

“Anything.”

“If something happens to me, in Dhaka…”

“We’re not having this conversation,” he interjects. “We’re not. We’re not talking about this. This is the last thing I want to talk about.”

“If something happens to me, you have to promise me that you’ll hold it together for the kids. OUR kids. Because they’ll need you more than ever.”

“Nothing is going to happen to you. Why…?”

“You can’t go back to drinking, you can’t go back to the meds. No matter how bad it seems or how horrible the grief is.  You can’t go back to those things. Because you will lose the kids. You will lose the last tie to me and you will not survive that.”

“I won’t survive if something happens to you. You know I won’t. And I don’t give a shit if that makes me sound weak or pathetic. It’s the fucking truth.”

“And then our kids would be left without mom or dad. You’d survive. For them. And you have to promise me you will. That if something happens to me…”

“Stop it,” he snarls. “Just fucking stop it!”

“Promise me you won’t let the kids down. That you won’t fall back into bad habits. That you’ll hold it together for them. You’re all they would have left. And I need you to be there for them. Promise me, Tyler. Promise me.”

“I promise you. I’ll keep it together. For them.”

Giving a small, sad smile, she presses a slow, soft kiss to his lips. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. I always WILL  love you. You need to remember that, okay?”

“I will,” his voice cracks with me. “And I love you. So much. And we’re going to get out of this. Both of us.  I promise.”

“I don’t know if that’s a promise you can keep.”

“I’ll get us out of there,” he vows. “No matter what it takes. I’ll get us out of Dhaka.”