“My date is tonight and I can’t cook to save my life so I was hoping maybe you can cook something and I could pass it off as my own,” Harry says.
Y/N giggles, walking down her hallway and into the living room where she can see her door is wide open, she closes it and turns back to Harry. He’s looking at her with a hopeful look in his eyes and a charming smile that Y/N can’t deny.
“Of course, I mean you helped me move, it’s the least I can do” Y/N smiled, “what time is your date?”
“Seven,” Harry says.
Y/N places her lower lip in between her teeth and her hands on her hip as she thinks, “okay yeah, I can do that, is this like a I want to actually date you date or a tinder type thing?”
Y/N rolls her eyes and hold the door open, “I’ll do it, but I do not agree with your motives.”
Y/N is the girl across the hall who tries to help Harry find a girl to settle down with, but Harry wants Y/N so he sabotages all his dates.
Modern Art AU time! This is less PWP, more story continuation with some incidental sex and a heavy dose of hipster!Kageyama whoops
“Kageyama, let’s watch a movie.”
Hinata leans his head all the way back over the armrest of the couch so he can look over to where Kageyama is sitting. Currently Kageyama is at the kitchen table, one leg drawn up with his foot on the chair, hunched over his sketchbook. He doesn’t even glance at Hinata when he responds.
It had been a good session, that day—Kageyama had decided to suspend Hinata with the shibari ropes. And then, he had decided to kiss Hinata, securing him up first and then dragging his lips slowly over every tied inch of him, sometimes on top of the ropes and other times against the skin ever-so-slightly pinched by the bindings, where it was most sensitive. And then finally, he had claimed Hinata’s slack mouth, buried his long fingers in Hinata’s hair and kissed him breathless. The ropes and the tying always bliss Hinata out, but Kageyama’s heat, his hands on Hinata’s skin, add an element of euphoria he’s sure no drug could achieve.
“Can’t,” Kageyama says, and Hinata’s thoughts are shattered. “I have class early tomorrow.”
All the air goes out of Hinata like a deflating balloon. The thing is, he isn’t lounging around naked on Kageyama’s sofa eating pizza for nothing.
Peter knew you better than you knew yourself, so it should come to no surprise when he’s able to read you like a neon light, but it always does. He was looking forward to a weekend with you at his place with movie marathons, attempted bakery, and late night city tours. But when you told him you weren’t sure, when he invited you, he was confused by how uncharacteristic it was of you.
His features scrunched up in bafflement as he read your text. His thoughts quickly raced around to figure out what could possibly be wrong. Through his puzzlement, he concluded that it’s likely that you were sick, on your period, or much to his paranoia: breaking up with him. Regardless of his assumptions, he sent you a text reading “on my way”
If someone suspects the Fentons are abusing Danny (probably the teachers cuz of all the bruises and injuries), and called the CPS, I don’t think that Danny can get himself out of it.
I mean, think about it. The Fentons are known throughout Amity Park as trigger happy and shove dangerous weapons towards anybody, heck, they even fire towards kids without a second thought. Some of Danny’s injuries are ectoplasmic burns, that could easily be done by the weapons they made. And without exposing his secret, I don’t think that “I’m clumsy” is a good excuse, cuz it’ll just backfire on him.
Their household is filled to the brim with weapons. Guns lying everywhere, chemicals stored in the food fridge, lab in easy access for any of the kids, and the complete lack of any safety protocols in the house. It’s unacceptable for the parents to disregard their children’s safety this much. Their “clumsy” child shouldn’t have that many injuries if the parents actually care to safeproof their house in the first place!
The first sign of mental illness on their kids, and their first response was strapping him and spun him around. Any signs of odd behaviour and their immediate thought was that their daughter is a ghost and unleashed an experimental weapon on her.
And the food, the FOOD. When the CPS opened the fridge for inspection, mutant killer hot dogs attacked them, and most of the other things in there are too contaminated or safe for consumption anymore. When asked, Danny would probably make an offhanded comment about “at least the cereal is okay” or “I eat at school or the Nasty Burger anyways” and that would just make it worse! Cuz parents are supposed to provide healthy meals and made sure that their kids are fed enough, not letting them survive on disgusting cafeteria food or greasy fast food, and Danny and Jazz’s skinny figure didn’t help in their case.
I’m just saying, that if CPS are called on the Fentons, Danny can’t really convince anyone that they are good parents, cuz realistically, they’re not. Even he did prove that his parents didn’t abuse him or injure him in any way, he would still be taken away from the dangerous household, and there’s nothing he can really do about it.
Anonymous said:Prompts for witches? Xx //
Anonymous said:Witchy prompts please? Xx // Anonymous said:So sorry if I’ve already asked this but I’m paranoid tumblr ate it so how about some witchy kind of prompts? Something like two different magics, two different covens at war? Thank you so much!!
1) “Confess,” they demanded. Expression blank, heart lurching sick in her chest. “Confess to your magic.” She knew, of course, that her lover hadn’t started this curse. Knew she had no power to speak of. Knew as her lover stared, betrayed, that they both knew who the witch in this room truly was. “Confess your sins,” she said softer, as if they didn’t know there was only fire at the end of this, “and you will be saved.” “My only sin,” they snarled. “Was loving you.”
2) “Court enchantress,” they murmured. “You’ve come a long way from home.” “So have you.” They’d met a lifetime ago - a very different life - and this was the last place they expected to see the witch again. They had such very different skill sets after all, witches and enchantresses. “What are you doing here?” “I heard stories of a sorcerer of great power and beauty, who never seemed to age. I had to see if it was true.” I had to see you. “You managed it then, [name].” “Don’t call me that - not here.”
3) “Dark Magic, Light Magic,” the witch rolled her eyes in despair. “Do you truly believe it so simple?” “The covens wouldn’t lie.” “The covens are not what they used to be. A rabble of amateur sorcerers and spellcrafters who think being born with power makes them some kind of divine, as if their magics are not parlour tricks to the old ones.” “And what would you know of the old ones?”
4) “You go too far this time. This is murder, not some territory dispute!” “I told you,” the witch spat. “It wasn’t one of us.” “It’s your curse - trademark, unmissable. Just look at their veins!”
5) “You are one of the rebel mages,” said the court enchantress. She studied them, eyes cool, taking in that wild, delicious magic that coiled savage and bristling compared to her own sleek control. “And you’re a traitor who would turn against their own. Let them enslave you like a trained monkey.” The enchantress laughed at that charmingly naive thought, at least so far as it pertained to her. “As opposed to the fool who would infiltrate enemy territory and proceed to insult the person who holds their fate in hand? You could do with some more training, dearest. Monkey or not.”
6) “This type of magic is not for you. It is poisoning you from the inside out, just look at you! You have to stop.” “I have to save them.” The witch wiped the clammy sweat from her brow, and made an effort to straighten.
7) Soul mage. The disgust, the horror, shot through them like a shard of ice. “No - no - you can’t be-” They tried to move, without success. Every atom in their body seemed ensnared as their enemy flicked their hand, raising them into the air. A lazy show of power. A twist of a finger to make them twirl, some thing to be inspected. They opened their mouth to scream for help, pride be damned. “No. Hush now,” the soul mage said. Their mouth clamped shut, noise choking in their throat. They lashed out with their own magic next, but the soul mage’s powers smothered like a wet blanket snuffing flames. “You’ll do perfectly,” the soul mage decided.
8) The power of the covens was absolute. Anyone else was disallowed, hunted, put to death by water or fire. The young witch kept her eyes down, kept herself focused on the salve she’d been tasked with creating, as the Inquisitor strode through the camp - searching for their best and brightest, to join the elite force. To be allowed to leave the circle. The witch could scarcely imagine such a thing as the world outside the coven.
9) “You could put your magic to such good,” they implored. “To such greatness.” The trickster grimaced and waved a hand to turn the other’s hair blue - as if the manipulation of physical appearance was nothing. It was utterly maddening. Such power, and they refused to do anything other than play the fool.
10) “Why?” the witch stared at them in disbelief. “Why would you want me? I can’t cast the simplest spell, my potions explode and my cat vomited on my book of enchantments this morning. I can’t do anything right, everyone says so!” “Every witch can cast a spell. If you can’t, it’s not because you are stupid or weak, it is because there’s something very very wrong with your magic. You have heard of the recent disappearances?” “You think I have something to do with them!?” This day was only getting worse. She should never have dared the universe by thinking it couldn’t get worse.
Hey guys, firstly I wanted to say sorry for taking so long to post this, I’ve just had some important exams but all is good because my results are really good! hope you all enjoy x
Joshua had been working so hard for this tour. So much that he’d barely eaten a thing, every morning I would wake up in an empty bunk, sometimes it would be 6am and I would hear the faint pounding of drums from inside the stadium. he was constantly tired and went straight to sleep whenever we had any type of alone time.
It was the night of the first show of the second part to the Emotional Roadshow, Josh had been up since 8 practising the same bit to Ride over and over. I walked behind him, setting the coffee that I had made for him beside his kit and ran my fingers over the warm skin of his shoulders, he flinched slightly at my touch and stopped suddenly looking up at me. Deep set frown lines cut through his pale face, mocha eyes drained of the life that usually danced in them. ‘Baby, you gotta have a break sometime, I promise you, you’ll do great’ I said softly, passing him the hot coffee.
‘I cant Y/N, I have to get this bit right,’ he said mumbled, gulping down the steaming drink. I gasped slightly because I knew how hot I had made it. ‘Just listen to this bit, is it okay’ He began to play the part of Ride where he would play on top of the crowd at they all peered up at him like he was a god. I listened as he played his heart out putting all of his effort into this solo, until he went wrong. ‘Argh fuck! I get the same fucking bit wrong every time I can’t do it’ he sulked burying his head into his sweaty covered hands.
‘Josh, Josh hey,’ I said, he looked at me again, tears threatening to spill from the eyes that I had fallen so in love with ‘You are going to do great, you do it every time, all the fans love you, and if you do mess up, then so what? the only people that will know are Tyler and I, and we love you no matter what, don’t you ever forget that okay?’ I smiled at him.
‘Thank you baby, I just wanna do you proud, I love you’ he said pulling me into a tight, if not slightly sweaty hug. I screwed up my nose and giggled at him then left to change for the evening. The drumming continued followed by various profanities, if he missed a beat, I sighed not knowing what to do with my perfectionist boyfriend.
A FEW HOURS LATER
“Tyler!?” I called from the hall, he popped his head out of the dressing room door, hair half combed as he was only part way through getting ready for tonights show. (A/N: Tyler has hair in this imagine for the purpose of this line and another later on, trust me I love Ty’s hair right now it just works that he has the fluffy hair here!)
“yesssssssssssss’ he chuckled, and I rolled my eyes at his behaviour.
“He’s been drumming for about four hours straight now, I’ve tried so hard to get him to stop and chill but no matter what I do he won’t stop, I’m so worried Ty’ I said scratching lightly at the thin skin of my palms.
“I know, I am too, but I don’t think anyone can change what he’s doing, you know what he’s like, once he’s got his heart set on doing something he’ll do whatever it takes to do it’ he sighed running his hand through his fluffy hair. “It’s time for him to get ready anyway, he’ll come by in a minute’.
As if on cue the drumming stopped abruptly, moments later Josh was trudging down the hallway, footsteps heavy and tiresome. “Time to get ready,” he muttered trying to give a hopeful smile as he passed us and then into his dressing room. I closely followed and watched as he slumped down in his chair, he looked at his sweaty image in the mirror and I could tell he was criticising everything I saw, my heart slightly tore apart at the thought and walked over to him deciding that I would help him to do his hair and eye makeup today because he seemed exhausted.
I kneeled in front of him and started to comb his hair into a more organised mess of sweaty, sunshine curls on top of his head, he gave he a lop-sided smile and closed his eyes as I began to smear the red paint gently over the smooth skin beneath his eyes. “open” I almost whispered at him. He fluttered his eyes open and inspected himself in the illuminated “does it look okay?’ he just nodded in response and then closed his eyes again.
‘Thank you,” he murmured.
Half an hour later and it was moment until the boys were due on stage, Josh had pumped himself up a little and was ready to go on, the adrenaline must have kicked in.
As the stage director gave the cue, the music started and the low hum of the beginning of HeavyDirtySoul filled the arena, accompanied by the screams of the crowds. They roared in delight as they watched their idols run on stage, Tyler rapped every word to perfection and Josh kept up with the quick pace of the song. I smiled as I watched him nod his head in time to the song.
It came to ‘Ride’ and a slight wave of sickness washed over me, worrying about how Josh would do, I knew he would be fantastic but he had stressed me out earlier. I watched as the crew lifter the drum kit on top of the crowd, Josh scanned for the best path in order to safely climb onto the plywood platform. Sure enough he clambered on safely at sat on the black leather stool. The music started again and he began his solo putting the rest of his power into the beat of the song, I glanced down at my phone until I heard a thud, followed by a sickening but definite scream ‘Y/N!’, Josh was on the floor his small body engulfed by the mass of fans, desperate to touch my boyfriend. I ran across the stage, over the barrier and into the pit wading through the hoards of people until I found him, eyes rolling back in his head, gasping for breath.
I kneeled beside him, and held his wrist in my palm checking his erratic pulse. Soon enough the medic rushed towards us and security ushered people out of the way so he had more space to breathe. I tilted his head up so it was resting on my knees and the doctor checked his heart rate and his temperature. They then picked him up and took him off to the side of the stage where he was given water. “I’m sorry guys, Josh can’t play anymore, I’m sorry if this ruined your night please don’t blame him he’s been working so hard for you. We are Twenty One Pilots, and so are you, goodnight everyone’ Tyler addressed the crowd as they began to amble towards the doors.
When the lights turned back on I had a proper look at Josh, and gasped at what I saw, his shirt had been nearly shreded by the fans, his hat was missing and small scratches were littered all up his arms where they had obviously tried to grab onto him but instead hurt him. “Babe! look at you, are you okay? look at your shirt there’s practically nothing there” he looked down at the torn black tank, and frowned, anger clearly bubbling up inside of him. “Stand up a minute I need to take a photo of this so that I can show the fans what they’ve done to you”
He stood up shakily and I quickly snapped a few shots of his shirt and arms. I went onto twitter and composed a new tweet ‘To the people who thought it appropriate to tear Joshua’s shirt and literally cut his arms, please don’t come back to another show, you are not welcome. I know you know who you are, you hurt him while he was vulnerable I hope the moment of touching him was worth it.’ I then attached the photos and posted the tweet, knowing hate would soon follow but I didn’t care because I needed to get my point across.
A couple hours later and Josh and I were curled up in bed, ‘Baby?’ he whispered, voice low and tired ‘I love you so much, thank you for helping me earlier, you’re amazing, I don’t know what I did to deserve someone like you’
I smiled into his chest and whispered back ‘I love you too Joshua,’
There you go, I feel like I’m a little rusty because I haven’t written for so long but I do hope you liked it, I’d love some feedback because you don’t know how much it means to me!
the friends of
the abc meet every week in the back room of the musain. sometimes you
invite friends to the meetings. they never pass the initiation, and
you never see them again. your chairs are made from bones.
beautiful like a marble statue and an angel, and you cannot take your
eyes off him. you cannot stop listening to the words that fall from
his lips. you want to be close enough to touch him. you cannot stop
looking, and your vision blurs into nothing. you cannot stop
listening, and his voice joins together to form endless ringing. your
hands blister when you go to touch him. you are not the first.
bahorel says he
is not training to be a lawyer, but blondeau always calls out his
name, and he is never crossed off. you try to ask him where he has
been, but he dismisses you. nobody else knows where he goes. you try
to follow him one day, but you find suddenly you are trailing
bossuet goes by
many names. every time you memorize one, others switch to calling him
by a new pseudonym. one night, a young man leans over and whispers
his real name in your ear. they find him in the seine the next
evening. you guard the secret closely. nobody else must ever know. he
is too powerful.
the others tell
you that feuilly is a fan maker, and that they respect him as a
worker. they tell you he creates pieces of savage and terrible
beauty. you catch his eye across the back room. his hands are always
smeared with paint. the paint is always red. you hope it is just
“i’m ill’, says
joly, and you nod in understanding. joly always thinks he is ill. his
hair falls out. his mouth pours blood when he speaks. he drags his
feet and his body rots before your eyes. joly always thinks he is
plays his flute, and you stop to listen for a moment. the music is
ethereally beautiful. it permeates your soul. you go home, and you
sleep for three days straight. when you wake up, you can still hear
romances anything that moves. he moves on from the women and onto the
men and then, slowly but surely, into the eldritch horrors that
follow us all.
enjolras like a shadow, reeking of drink and burnt out candles.
everyone interacts with grantaire except enjolras, who never seems to
notice. even you have been drawn into one of grantaire’s long-winded
speeches, full of classical allusions. enjolras asks you who you are
speaking to, and you realize he has never seen him. grantaire puts a
finger to his lips.
you see combeferre
reading books on geology, and later on you hear that he has broken
open a pebble to inspect it more thoroughly and personally. you see
him reading a book on human biology one night. he looks up and meets
your eyes. you are suddenly afraid.
AN // Originally this was meant to be a three part mini series but I don’t know if this needs a third part? If y’all want it though let me know! Also, listen, I know it’s July but a part in this is set around Christmas time okay I’m sorry I hate the summer.
You Must Allow Me To Tell You How Ardently I Admire & Love You
He did see her again, in case you had been wondering. He had come to know that the coffee shop was her favourite place, as it had become his. You see it’d been months since these two’s paths had originally crossed. It was almost ritualistic now, he’d walk in and his eyes would instinctively land on their spot. He was never checking to see if it was free, it was always free, no one sat other than them ever say there, almost as though other people could tell the spot indirectly belonged to someone else. No, he was looking for her. He was looking for the top knot above a classic novel covering the face of the girl he’d found perfect company in. When she was there, he’d order his coffee to drink in, he’d sit and he’d write as she read. This comfortable quiet they’d created around each other was content and safe and he would spend forever there if he could.
She was always there first. She had always been happy there, even before Harry, but now? Now she’d found a new reason to fall in love with it. It was their spot. She’d never stay as long when he wasn’t there, didn’t see a reason to, she’d realised she didn’t want to finish a novel without him there to listen to her recap it. They watched the seasons change from the coffee shop window and it was beautiful.
They met in Spring. The sweetest spring breeze, the smell of daffodils and the colours that painted to sky as the sun set were the scenery for some of their fondest memories. He remembered how she always ordered the same drink, a peach tea iced latte, remembered how she called it a ‘cup of happy’. They learnt the most about each other from March to May. He learnt where her love of books came from, how she liked that she could be in a different world even just briefly. She learnt that Harry loved music in the same way she loved novels. She learnt that he made music and he learnt that he really likes when she likes his music. She can’t remember a time when she’d been happier and he can’t think of a smile he loves more than hers.
She remembers the Summer. How he wasn’t there at all. He was gone for so long the coffee shop was becoming just the coffee shop again. She remembers how mad she was that he didn’t even say goodbye, doesn’t know how he tried to. It was a Thursday and she’d been asked to work the day shift instead of her usual night shift and Harry waited, almost missed his flight because he didn’t want to leave without seeing her. Without saying goodbye. He had to leave though, it was his job, and sure he loved his job but it was so alien to him not being around her. Almost felt like he was missing a limb. He missed her, to say the least, missed the smile that would always be waiting for him and how they could talk for hours about anything and it’d feel like 5 minutes. He missed his safe space. He missed his coffee shop girl. And she missed him. It didn’t feel the same without him there, she missed watching him write, how he’d always dodge the question when she asked what he was writing about and how he thinks she doesn’t notice. She missed talking to him, how he was the only one who genuinely wanted to hear about her love of books and how he doesn’t find it boring. She read less when he was gone. Her classics were collecting dust. As was his chair. As was she.
He was home by Autumn. It was the first thing he did when he got back, going to the coffee shop, everything else seemed to be an after thought. It was like the second he got home she was the only thing on his mind, like nothing other than seeing her mattered. So believe me when I tell you that on lookers saw what looked like a mad man when they saw his smile as he took in the familiar scene of his girl with her headphones in and a book covering her usually pouted lips. However they also saw his face fall as she didn’t reciprocate his smile, didn’t even remove her headphones. He still sits though, would rather be with her than not. They don’t speak for the most part, he writes and she reads but it’s not the same as it was before. There’s tension there now and Harry, for one, doesn’t like it. It’s not until he’s getting ready to leave before one of them breaks the silence and, to his surprise, it’s her.
It’s quiet and Harry almost misses it and he’s confused as to what she’s asking. Confused as to why she’s mad at him.
“Why what, poppet?”
“Why didn’t you say goodbye?”
He’s stunned by the question because he tried, thought she knew he wouldn’t leave for so long without at least trying to say goodbye to her. He’s stunned by her voice, it’s so soft and small and it all but breaks his heart because he was gone for so long and here she was thinking that he didn’t even care enough to say goodbye.
“I tried, swear I tried. Waited all of Thursday for you before I had to go catch my flight. Never wanted to just disappear on you.”
It’s quiet again but the tension’s gone now and their comfortable silence is back. They sit like this for a little while before Harry remembers why he was getting ready to leave in the first place.
“Missed you, you know?”
She looks up at him and she’s got this small, soft smile on her face that makes him melt.
“Missed you too.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”
She’s nodding bashfully with fingers trying to hide the childlike grin on her face. He missed her. He tried to say goodbye. She’s going to see him tomorrow.
It’s Winter now. More specifically holiday season, she’s reading Oscar Wilde’s A Picture Of Dorian Gray. Harry’s in his usual spot, he’s got his right hand on the neatly wrapped present tucked out of sight between him and his chair and he’s got his left hand playing with his lips masking a smile as he watches her read. As she finishes her book she places it back in her bag and takes out something reminiscent of the present Harry’s hiding. She places it in front of him and she stands to leave, a pretty smile on her lips. Harry discards of the wrapping paper to find a notebook, brown and leather reminiscent of his old one. Opening it to inspect it he notices an inscription that reads
“Dear my coffee shop boy,
I noticed your old one was getting full, I hope I get to read what’s in these one day. Happy holidays Harry.
- From your coffee shop girl”
He’s all but grinning as he speed walks outside, hoping she’ll still be there. He notices her by a car that looks like it’s ready for the scrap yard, she’s got the hood open and she’s shivering and bent over looking at the cars mechanics with a frustrated look on her face. Harry walks over
“You need some help with that?"
It startles her and she almost hits her head on the lifted hood. As she turns she nearly knocks them both over, not realising how close he was, only saved by his arms wrapping around her waist keeping them both from falling.
"Oh, it’s you!"
She instantly relaxes when she recognises him, not even moving to make more room between them.
“Didn’t mean to scare you sweet, just looked like you were having a problem.”
“I’m okay, this always happens when it’s cold. Almost like it forgets how to run when its less than 10 degrees.”
“I can drop you home if you’d like?”
“I’d like that a lot.”
Anyone else and it would’ve been an instant no and she doesn’t know why she trusts him so much but it’s got her thinking that maybe the coffee shop isn’t her safe space, maybe he is. They walk side by side to his car in hushed serenity before he breaks the silence.
“The notebook was very sweet, you didn’t have to do that.”
“Yes I did, had to give you something to write in so you’d keep coming to the coffee shop to write”
“Ah is that what it was? A plan to keep seeing me? Cunning thing you are poppet”
She’s giggling and he’s smiling at her, to anyone they’d look like long time lovers and they’re both so content. Getting into his car she can’t help but notice how warm it is even though it’s been sat in the snow the whole while they’ve been at the coffee shop. It clean and cosy and it smells like apples, it’s very Harry. She’s snapped out of her trance by his voice as he gets into the drivers seat.
“Got you something too, by the way.”
He reaches into his coat pocket and hands her a present wrapped neatly in brown wrapping paper with a white string bow around it. Untying the string and unwrapping the present she gasps, it’s a brown leather bookmark with ‘I shall be miserable if I have not an excellent library’ engraved into it.
“Oh Harry, it’s beautiful.”
“Yeah? You like it?”
“I love it, thank you.”
She reaching over the gear controls to hug him and it shocks him but his more than happy to accept it.
And so he drives her home and she asks if he’d like to come in and he says yes. Maybe this was a start of something beautiful. Maybe her coffee shop boy could become just her boy.
Harry Styles is a model and the currently most in-demand face in the fashion industry who might be just a little bit too full of himself and Janey Darling is the photographer that knocks him off his high horse… and subsequently off his feet.
this is the rewrite of my 2016 autumn exchange fic with added scenes. about 8.5k words. slightly nsfw towards the end and if you read this far you might as well…
Reactions of everyone when they find out Yui is the avatar aka who bends all 4 elements
asdfghjkl; They’d all run away from her or be intrigued. Maybe even scared for ONCE. I love Yui A LOT, so thanks for asking!
Shu probably wouldn’t care much if Yui was the Avatar. He would still desire blood from her as Eve, but he would definitely acknowledge her abilities and if any of his brothers were in deep trouble and forget that Yui had her awesome abilities to help them, he would speak up and remind them that Yui can alleviate their situation. She still serves her purpose as the sacrificial bride to him, so her being the Avatar won’t change his opinion too much.
Reiji would indicate a fascination in Yui as the Avatar. He’d probably ask her to frequently demonstrate her different abilities, and would be in awe of her smooth transitions and fighting style moves. His favorite form is when she bends blazing fire, and he might manipulate her into setting things on fire sometimes. He has this inner desire to cut her open one day and inspect her body, wondering how a human was capable of bending elements. Run Yui.
Ayato would think that Yui is so cool with her abilities! He’d brag to his friends at school about it, and maybe even demand her to showcase some of her moves to them. Of course, when Yui accidentally sends a boulder flying into the school’s window, they both get into big trouble with the headmaster. After that event, Yui refuses to do whatever Ayato commands of her. If she’s bold enough, she might even try bloodbending to get him to leave her alone for awhile.
Kanato is somewhat intrigued by Yui’s status as the Avatar, but it doesn’t really make a big impact on him or his life. He calls Yui “a witch” or “wicked girl” because he believes that humans do not have such capabilities and that she is just performing some sort of illusion to trick him and everyone else. Nevertheless, Kanato likes seeing Yui bend water the most. He finds it calming and appealing to the eye.
Laito thinks Yui is 10000x sexier as the Avatar. He’s never chased after anyone like her before, so this is just another challenge to add onto his bucketlist. He likes watching Yui bend any of the elements and would often ask her to teach him, but Yui would tell him that she doesn’t know if vampires can do it, much to his disappointment. Laito might hope that in another life, he will be born as an airbender because he wants to make grand entrances with the wind blowing from his direction.
Subaru thinks Yui is faking it all until she almost strikes him with lightening on accident one day while in the rose garden. He had attempted to feed on her, but when Yui was frightened by his advances, she had accidentally bended lightening in the process and set a nearby rosebush on fire, much to Subaru’s surprise. From that day on, Subaru learns to distance himself from Yui until he can find her in a vulnerable status. He still desires strongly for her blood.
Kino becomes sly when he’s around Avatar Yui, consistently asking her to do certain things for him that require her abilities to be put into use. When Yui picks up on the fact that he’s making her do all of this, she’ll stop and walk away to do something else. If Kino tried to approach Yui, she’d bend ice to keep him in his spot and proceed with her getaway. Kino has to be more careful around her now.
No matter how many books he has read, he could not find one piece of information about the Avatar. Ruki would note that Yui is definitely a special human being, and he would probably give her a little more respect. He is impressed with her ability to bend water the most, and almost wants to treat her as the Mukami family’s personal guard from now on. Yui wouldn’t agree to it though because her duty as the Avatar is to protect all humans and maintain equality and peace.
Kou is interested in Yui’s abilities and constantly wants her to show him everything that she knows. He’s like a child who is in constant awe of everything, but what he’s really interested in seeing is when Yui is in her Avatar State. It’s rare that she enters it because Yui is often afraid to go into the Spirit World, but Kou will always encourage her to do it because he wants to see her in a powerful state, something that Yui doesn’t often do because of her humbling self.
Yuma remarks that Yui is just a fraud because no human can do what she does, but when she bends fire to cook dinner one day for the Mukami family, he gets triggered. It makes him fall back into his childhood memory of when his village burned down and his parents died, and Yuma wonders if another human with firebending skills had done that to his home. He’d walk out of the kitchen and stay away from Yui for awhile until he grasps the fact that Yui would not harm anyone with her status as the Avatar.
Azusa is a little shocked by Avatar Yui, but he still treats her like usual. He has expressed his interest in seeing Yui bend metal and lava, but Yui is afraid that Azusa might hurt himself in the process by getting in the way of her manipulating lava or metal. He admires Yui for her desire to protect and bring peace among all living things on Earth, and comments that she is indeed the precious Eve that they all know and love.
Carla REALLY wants Yui to be his sacrificial bride now, claiming that their children will be very powerful beings to ever roam the Earth and demon world. He’ll have more difficulty in capturing Yui because of her fighting techniques, but he’s up for the challenge. His favorite element to see Yui bend is earth because it amazes him that Yui can control whatever is beneath her and wield it to her best ability. This Founder won’t stop until he becomes an official power couple with Avatar Yui.
Shin is super impressed with Yui and sees her above most humans now. He likes challenging Yui to fights with him, but Yui would deny him because she doesn’t want to fight. It’s not until he pushes her to the limit and threatens her life that she is not hesitant in fighting Shin back in self-defense. He gets a thrill from it, but it ultimately ends with him as the loser.
stared at the monitor, studying every movement it made. It was perfect in every
way. Each mannerism, sound, even the way it breathed; it was the perfect
android. Chills shot through him as he saw his reflection in the monitor. He
had effectively cloned himself.
day he watched it live his life. It did everything he would do, day in day out.
It played with his children, went to work in the laboratory, even slept in the
same bed as his wife. No one was the wiser.
As the days drug
on, unease swelled in him. He had become the watcher; like a viewer watching a
reality show. He had become distant, and this thing was closer to his family than he could
remember. Soon he felt sick every time he turned to the monitors.
One morning he
waited patiently in the lab, hidden behind several shelves. The door cracked
open, and in came him. Seeing it close
made his stomach turn. His sickness became anger, and rage filled him. As it
sat he quietly stepped out from behind the shelves. His hands trembled as he
raised a revolver, slowly pacing towards the back of it.
steps away, he clicked the hammer back. His clone turned to the noise, and its
eyes widened as Thomas aimed the gun.
The android stammered.
shaking, Thomas exhaled and squeezed the trigger. After the bang, it crumpled
in the chair, and slid to the ground like a rag doll.
large amount of blood surprised Thomas, but he cleaned it up. He took his time,
and prepared the android to be disposed. He drove home still shaking, pulling
over several times feeling he had to vomit.
home, he chopped carrots while his kids and wife prepared the dining room. With
a shaky knife, he managed to cut his thumb terribly. He wrapped his thumb in a
towel, and rushed to the bathroom.
His wife asked through the dining room.
He unwrapped his thumb under rushing
water, and noticed the towel held little blood. He pinched the wound, and opened
the slice inspecting it. He noticed something thin, like frayed hair, poking
out. He tugged on it, and with it came a tangle of more hair. He peered closer,
and noticed they weren’t hairs; they were wires.
is fine, honey.” He tucked the wires in, and sealed the wound with a Band-Aid.
Yes, this is a part two to the Wasteland AU that @haematite3 made. I hope you enjoy it!
Jonathan groaned as the sunlight hit his face from the small opening in his tent. He turned over and snuggled into his worn-out teddy bear, trying to fall back asleep. Sadly, he could not go back to sleep. He groaned again and sat up, rubbing his eyes while still clutching to his teddy bear.
“Damn sunlight waking me up. Why can’t you stay down for a couple more minutes?” He asked to no one in particular (unless you counted his teddy bear as a person). He looked around the tent and made sure that nothing was stolen. He smiled when he saw that nothing had.
Recently he had a bit of a raccoon problem. Meaning, the raccoon would come into his tent and eat some of his food when he was asleep or when he wasn’t there. He finally saw the damn thing and nearly shot it. Sadly, it got away before he could do any kind of harm to it.
He strapped the teddy bear onto his bag and slung the bag over his shoulder. He tapped his teddy bear pin for good luck and grabbed his mask as he stepped out of his tent. “Well, it still looks like shit out here,” he mumbled to himself as he used his hand to block the sun from his eyes. He looked around just to make sure that the critter he had been dealing with wasn’t around.
When he was sure, he went on his way to try and find something in all the rubble. He ‘lived’ in a junkyard for the moment. There was scrap metal lying around, which was good when Jonathan was bored. He liked using his hands, so he would end up making things with the tools and metal that he found. It usually ended up being useless, but Jonathan still enjoyed it.
Everyday, Jonathan would venture farther into the junkyard. It was a huge place, so there was always something new. He used strips of cloth to mark where he had been so he wouldn’t get lost. He found the last one, and went further in.
There, he found a car that had been left to rot. It looked to be in pretty good shape. Jonathan found that the car doors were unlocked, which was good, but also bad. There was a chance that someone might have gotten into it. It was unlikely, since the car windows weren’t destroyed, but there was still a chance.
He struggled to open the glove box, finally prying it open with his hands.
A pistol and a package of bullets fell onto the seat, along with a couple of papers. He looked at the papers to see if he knew the people in who used to own the car. He didn’t recognize the names, so he tossed it to the ground before picking up the pistol. He tossed it around in his hands before putting it in his bag, along with the bullets.
He looked in the back seat of the car, and lit up almost immediately. “Ooh, teddy bear!” He gleamed as he moved towards the back of the car. Sitting in a booster seat in the back was a little teddy bear all buckled up. Jonathan unbuckled the seat and carefully took out the bear. There was a hole in its side, so stuffing was coming out. Jonathan frowned when he saw that, so he took special care in strapping it next to his original teddy bear. He would have to fix it when he got home.
He sat back in the drivers seat and noticed that the keys were still in. Curious, he tried to start the car. It sputtered for a second before dying again. Jonathan’s eyes widened at the sound. Usually cars didn’t work at all, and this one showed potential of being able to drive. If he could get this thing to work, well, the possibilities were endless in Jonathan’s head.
He finally got out of the divers seat and went to the back of the car. He had to pry open the trunk with the crowbar, but that was normal. The trunk popped open, and Jonathan inspected the inside.
Suitcases and bags were in the trunk. Jonathan figured that whatever family wined this car was on vacation. It was a shame that they didn’t make it to their destination. Or maybe they did, and they were coming back home. In that case, it was a shame that they never felt the comforts of home ever again.
Since it was starting to get dark and Jonathan wanted to get to his tent before it was pitch black, he didn’t have enough time to got through the bags and pick what he wanted. So instead, he decided to take them all.
It was a hassle to get them all out, but once he made it back to his tent, Jonathan was glad he took them.
There were lots of clothes in the bags, some that would fit him and others that wouldn’t. But he could use the unfit clothes for other things. One bag had medical supplies, which Jonathan silently thanked whoever had owned these bags. He had a terrible habit of getting hurt all the time, so he needed the supplies.
He finally got to the smallest bag to find that it was the daughters bag. Crumpled up drawings of the vacation were singed on the edges, but you could still see what they were of. Jonathan’s heart sank at all of the things. A small journal was in the bag as well, along with some more toys. Jonathan flipped through the journal, reading the entries.
May 5, 2016
Today we’re finally going home! I’m gonna miss being here, but it was super fun! Mrs. Bear had lots of fun too. Mommy and daddy seem really tired, but I’m pretty sure that had fun too. I’m starting to get tired. Goodnight journal! See you when I get home!
Jonathan nearly cried when he saw that that was the last entry. He took the bear that was loosing stuffing and sighed. He pulled a small sardine can out of his bag and opened it up. Sewing supplies sat inside. His mother had taught him how to sew so he wouldn’t always come to her to fix his stuffed animals.
Luckily the bear hadn’t lost a lot of stuffing, so he didn’t have to use an alternative. He stitched up the bear and took a good look at it. It had a small scrawny skirt and two bows on its ears. He smiled slightly at the bear before getting his original one out.
“I want you to meet my friend, Delirious. He’s a nice bear, and I’m sure you two will get along just fine. Welcome to the family, Emily.”
The One Where Ronan and Adam Hold Hands For the First Time
also it’s all over the place and not very well written, I’ve never done fic before so this is v rough.
Adam made the mistake when he was tired.
He had just come home from a particularly brutal eight hour shift to find Ronan, headphones over ears, forearms on knees, waiting outside his apartment. Nothing new.
Adam would study, finish whatever homework he hadn’t gotten to that weekend and Ronan would look over Adam’s shoulder and make sarcastic comments about all of his assignments.
This had become routine semi recently and Adam couldn’t say he hated the company, until he made the mistake.
He was hunched over a notebook on his bed, muscles aching, stomach growling. Ronan was sitting with his back against the wall, feet up on Adam’s mattress.
Without thinking, Adam let out: “geez I’m starving.”
And there was his mistake. With no hesitation, Ronan reached over to the small fridge in the corner of the room. He opened the door, inspected the contents. Or lack there of.
Ronan was always quietly kind about Adam’s food situation, never expecting anything from Adam knowing the boy couldn’t possibly afford to feed guests. But Adam could tell that things were about to change.
“What the hell Parrish?” He glared at the empty, fluorescent fridge. “When exactly was the last time you ate?”
Adam felt his stomach tighten in a way unrelated to hunger. He wasn’t about to tell Ronan that the last of his food had run out yesterday morning. Or that he didn’t have another trip to the grocery store budgeted until Friday.
Ronan now stood right in front of where Adam sat, tall and handsomely menacing in the receding daylight.
Adam still hadn’t responded to Ronan’s question. He didn’t think he could manage the words with the way Ronan was looking at him: firmly angry and fiercely… protective?
Ronan shook his head and threw himself down on the bed next to Adam, not bothering to move himself when their knees touched.
“Jesus Adam.” Ronan stared down at the exposed wood beneath their feet. “I know how you are about… money things but fuck,” he turned his sharp and caring eyes to Adam, “you have to eat.”
“Ronan, I-” Adam was saved from having to explain himself when Ronan suddenly reached out a hand and entangled his fingered between Adam’s.
“Don’t do this to yourself.” He said quietly, not quite able to look Adam in the eye.
Adam only stared at their hands, wrapped around each other, messily, easily. For some reason, he didn’t feel like letting go. Momentarily, he’d forgotten what conversation they had even been having.
Brought back to reality by the shifting of Ronan’s long, pale fingers, Adam finally spoke, still not tearing his gaze from their entwined fingers.
“Its late,” Adam said. “Can we just… talk about it tomorrow?” He didn’t really know if he was obligated to talk about this with Ronan but right now, Adam could hardly think at all past where his and Ronan’s palms touched.
Ronan nodded slowly as if the movement of his head up and down was breaking him from a trance. He drew his hand from Adams and Adam wished he wouldn’t. Ronan took up his customary place on the floor by Adam’s bed.
That night, Adam only dreamt of Ronan taking his hand.
In the morning, Ronan woke up with the recollection of a strange dream that took place in a supermarket and several giant bags of food for Adam Parrish.
The reader tries to do something nice
for Quill but he is a little jealous monster, Groot doesn’t care as long as he
can join in the fight.
Peter Quill x Reader
Xandar was always beautiful, and you especially
liked that it was the planet where you’d all been arrested and forced together.
Rocket and Quill liked it because of the black market - somethings never change.
You were shifting through the market on your
own, nodding in acknowledgement to traders who you recognised, this was
the kind of place that your father would take you for day trips when your
mother would let him see you. He taught you how to shoot, how to fight, how to
barter and was always buying you tiny knives to hide on your person, just in
case you needed them.
This little market made you miss your father
even though you’d had chance to speak to him after Yondu’s Ravager service. It was
nice to have some time for yourself, Gamora had taken Groot to make sure that
Quill and Rocket didn’t cause any trouble and Drax and Mantis had wandered off,
no doubt so that Drax could tell her just how unappealing he found her.
You and Quill hadn’t really spoken since you’d woken
up a few mornings ago to find half of the ship covered in photos of you and
Quill curled around one another sleeping. You’d not spoken about it but
the side glances towards each other and the silence was enough to tell you that
something about your relationship had shifted.
The thing that you’d both been ignoring for so long had been slapped in front
of your eyes and shot at you as jokes from Rocket and Drax. You’d laughed it
off of course but you knew, as Quill knew; now you’d have to face the feelings
that you’d been avoiding and decide to push it aside or explore it.
Which one would be scarier, you had no clue.
You were snapped from your thoughts when you
noticed a twinkling little trinket on one of the stalls. With a smile, you
approached the attractive Xandarian vendor, “Good day.” His eyes trailed you obviously, slowly, up and
down, “Greetings and what can I do for you?” His voice was sultry as you flirted back and
forth for a few moments, it was innocent enough from you, you just wanted a discount.
It was only when the vendor leaned across his
table to touch your cheek did you notice Quill’s appearance as he snatched the man’s
wrist midair before he could touch you.
“I didn’t hear the lady give you permission
to touch her.” Quills words were light but his tone dead and from where
you stood you could see the Xandarians pained face and how Quill’s fingertips
turned white from the pressure he was exerting in the grip.
“Quill, it’s okay, we were just
talking.” You tried to calm him down; you’d only ever seen his expression
so grave during battle.
Quill finally let the man go when you gently put
a hand on his arm and coaxed him to release him. The vendor clung his wrist to his chest,
“Woah, sir, calm down.” You tried to
keep the atmosphere light, you could feel Quill go ridged beside you and you
didn’t need to look at him to know that he was glaring a hole into the man’s
The vendor went on the defense, he spat, “There’s
no need to get jealous you stupid Terran, you think I don’t know who she is?
What she is? You think that I’d be interested in this Ravager scum?”
He spat at your feet and you flinched at
childhood memories of the slur.
Quill gently placed his hand on your shoulder
and guided you back behind him, over his shoulder you could see Gamora, Drax
and Groot approaching and you gestured for them to rush.
Drax was busy trying to comprehend your gesture
but Gamora was already picking up her pace, but she wasn’t fast enough to stop
Quill as he caught the vendor by his hair and yanked him over his table,
slammed him onto the floor using that hand as leverage and started to beat him
with his other hand.
You took the opportunity to snatch the trinket
from the table and tucked it into your pocket.
"Peter get off of him! What is wrong with
you?!“ Gamora snapped as you both tried to pull him off the vendor whose
face was already swollen and bleeding. Drax’s booming laughter and Groot ‘attacking’
the man’s feet did nothing to help either of you. “Drax go do something useful! Find Rocket
or Mantis, whoever you get to first!” You snapped over your shoulder and
he did as he was asked, mostly because of your friendship. He was fairly sure
that Quill’s reaction would be justified to whatever had happened.
It was Mantis who came back with Drax first,
which was probably for the best as it only took one hand on Quill’s shoulder to
send him into a calm daze. Gamora and Mantis led Quill out, you picked Groot up
and followed them. Drax hadn’t finished bartering so you told him not to worry
and to continue his shopping as long as he remembered to bring Rocket home with
You met the others outside and Gamora came up to
you, “Mantis and I were going to dine, will you be okay with him?”
She glanced over at where Quill was sat on the
edge of a decorative fountain; he looked intolerably grumpy even though Mantis
had a hand on his shoulder. You were happy at how close Mantis and Gamora
seemed to be becoming, you were starting to think that something was going on
between them but as Queen of ignoring your feelings you knew that it wasn’t
your place to pry.
“We’ll be fine thank you; I think we need
to talk.” You told her and held your hand out so that Groot could jump
into it from your shoulder.
“Thank you for helping us with that
asshole.” You grinned at him and gave him a high five with the tip of your
finger. He jumped from your hand into Gamora’s, he gave you a wave and then
they were gone, leaving you with one grumpy Star Lord.
You wandered over slowly before standing in
front of him, “Wanna tell me what that was about?” “Er, he spat at you, you’re welcome.”
He grumbled playing with a zip on his jacket.
“You started well before then.” You
He sighed like a caught out teenager,
“Maybe I’m just annoyed that I have to go clearing up after your rubbish
taste in men.”
You resisted the urge to whack him, “Maybe
you should spend less time being a jealous prick and more time talking to me
about the other morning?”
“You were flirting with him.” He said
as he finally looked up at you, scowl in place, “Guess I just figured that
you were like that with everyone, me included.”
It was childish, you could admit that, but when
your friend of many years and object of your affections spoke with such venom
you couldn’t stop yourself. You shoved him straight into the fountain. Hard.
He landed with a splat and an oomph before he settled, soaking wet and
gaping up at you in shock.
Taking the trinket from your pocket you threw it
at him and he caught it midair, he opened his hand to inspect the small
clothing pin in the shape of a silver arrow.
“I was trying to distract him while I stole
that for you so that you could have something simple to remind you of Yondu, you
asshole.” You snapped and left him there in the water.
It was a few hours before Quill came to find
you, he leaned in the doorway like a sullen child in fresh clothes and a towel
around his neck.
You didn’t look up from the weapon you were trying to put back together.
He cleared his throat. You rolled your eyes before mumbling, “I’m not apologising.”
“I was just wondering if you’d help me with
this?” He asked and you finally looked up to see him fiddling with the arrow
pin that you’d stolen for him.
You clicked your tongue, “You can pull a
Xandarian over a table by his hair but you can’t wrestle a pin into a t-shirt?”
“Maybe I just want to give you an excuse to feel me up.” He smirked. You couldn’t help but smile in
response. He wandered into the room and you rose from the bed to meet him in
the middle. You held out your hand but instead of putting the pin in your palm
he gently took your hand in his.
“Thanks, you know, for stealing for me.” He told
you, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. His over hand found your hips
and brought you into a weird, awkward waltz. You danced together all of the
time but this was strange.
It was difficult.
It was intimate.
“Anytime.” You smiled, “I’m not thanking you for
beating up that vendor.”
He shook his head softly, “Just let me enjoy the moment.”
You’d gravitated closer until when you looked up your nose brushed his, “Oh,
are we having a moment?”
“Well I’ve been trying to get you to see me like
this for long enough.” He breathed, his words ghosted over your lips until his
own lips followed and you were kissing.
Chapped lipped pushed against yours, Quill’s
hand left yours to cup your cheek while his other pulled your hips closer.
Pulling the towel around his neck you held him close, revealing in the embrace
until a quiet cheer disrupted you.
You jumped back away from Quill, your face
burning. Quill’s eyes stayed closed as he pouted and waited for you lips to
find his again. You hit his chest, laughing at his antics, and when he opened
his eyes you pointed at the doorway where Groot was jumping up and down cheering
and clapping his hands.
“I am Groot!” He grinned running over to you
both, he climbed up Quill’s trousers and shimmied up until he was cuddled in
between your chests.
“Language Groot!” You scolded him lightly but he just grinned.
“What did he say?” Quill asked and poked Groot playfully in his stomach, he
held you close with his other arm around your waist.
“About fucking time.” You translated and Groot nodded happily.
“I gotta agree with him there.” Quill smiled and leaned over Groot to give you
a chaste kiss.
Dean wasn’t quite sure when the pet names started, he wasn’t sure if he started them or Cas. All he knew is that once it started, it became a regular thing between the two of them. Sam would raise his eyebrows at them, but didn’t say anything about it.
“Hey, angel, find anything?” Dean asked one night in the bunker while they were researching a case.
Cas, from across the table, with his head buried nose deep in a thick volume shook his head. “I don’t think so, righteous man.”
And that’s how it went. Dean would call Cas things like ‘angel’ and ‘babe’, and Cas would always answer it with some weird almost comical nickname. It started as just ‘righteous man’ but morphed into ‘sweetheart’ and ‘darling’. Dean knew that this isn’t what friends called each other, but every time that gravel voice answered his he couldn’t complain.
sighed a little to yourself as you came home and toed off your shoes. It had
been a rough day and all you really wanted was a glass of wine, something to
eat, a nice bath, and some time alone with your boyfriend. You heard a shout
from upstairs a paused before looking at your watch to check the time. “Damn,”
you mumbled, rolling your eyes. You stayed later at work than you though and by
now Ryan was streaming already upstairs in his office.
Rafael Barba x Reader, Ft. Sonny Carisi Summary: Rafael is in a pissy mood when a case isn’t going in the direction he wanted. When the reader tries to be helpful, he is agitated and takes his stress out on her. Leaving them with unspoken words in the air.
“Good morning, sweetie. I have already made coffee for you. It’s on the table.” She greeted Rafael with a smile and a kiss on the lips. He barely offered a smile, but headed straight for the coffee.
“I’m almost done with the egg sandwich. So don’t leave yet.” She said, over her shoulder.
Rafael didn’t answer, his mind was too occupied with the proceeding of the case. He kept coming up with scenarios where he could screw up or be screwed over. With the pressure from his boss and the case being time sensitive, he couldn’t think of anything else. All he needed was as much caffeine as he could get.
“Did you hear what I said?” She asked.
Her back was facing him, so she didn’t catch the eye roll. She was too busy trying to get the sandwich ready so he could eat on the way. He was in a foul mood due to sleep deprivation, it wasn’t anything in the tone she spoke. In fact, she was trying to be helpful.
The mint took over Alex’s garden overnight with a disturbing aggression. Sunday evening she had received the box from Aunt Rose, a small note stuck to the cardboard with only the words put outside written on it. For an empty cardboard box it had looked unsuspicious, so she had followed the instructions. Monday morning arrived with the surprise of a new herb next to the basil. Alex inspected it thoroughly, and, when no signs of evilness were found (they were yet to appear unnoticed after the afternoon tea), she left it there. Aunt Rose knew what she was doing. Most of the time. Alex possessed a similar demeanor when it came to her own magic, so she didn’t judge. Aunt Rose was nice company and gave good advice.
Tuesday morning was less fun, and more stress. Her garden was no longer basil, lavender, cilantro, and hollowing honeyplum. Those were gone, devoured by the vicious mint that had covered all fifteen square meters of it. Alex did not know what her reaction should be when she saw the mint leaves swallow the last hollowing honeyplum blossom. They stuck to the petals, and the flower was dragged to the bottom of the green sea. When it was done, the monster mint had the audacity to burp, the gurgling sound as disturbing as the fact that the plant had a consciousness of its own.
Aunt Rose had left on a business trip to the Underworld, so she didn’t pick up her phone. Alex was alone in her freshly smelling time of crisis. This was the only bright side to it, unlike that one time two years ago when a whole family of gnomes with poor personal hygiene had sneaked into her basement and spent there a whole week, during summer. That smell had not been as pleasant.