#Home Office Storage Ideas Queens

[cabinetmakerqueens]

Home Office Storage Ideas Saddle Ridge

At Empire Closets, we feel the design of any home office should reflect your personal style and aesthetic. Whether you are looking to use neutral colors, natural materials, and minimal decor to create a serene and professional look, or brighter colors, bold patterns, and modern finishes can create a more fun and vibrant feel, we have got you covered! When you are creating a dedicated workspace in your home, you want to make sure it’s comfortable, functional, and conducive to productivity. The team at Empire Closets is here to do just that! The complete design and installation process can take anywhere from a few days to a few weeks, depending on the complexity of the design and the materials used. For more information on home office design and other services, be sure to contact Empire Closets today.

[redhoodinternaldialectical]

Chapter 21 of Chained: To Wield The Blade We Have Forged

A/N: This chapter is stephcass focused enough that I think people might enjoy this as a standalone thing, so I'll be posting the chapter both on AO3 as usual, and right here in this post! This also connects to the reblog I wrote up the other night gushing about Batgirl (2000) #19 and the potential in a Cass vs Jason confrontation!

For this chapter only, NOT the whole fic: Rated T for Teen Ships are Stephanie Brown/Cassandra Cain and vaguely hinted at Jason Todd/Tim Drake There's gonna be a LOT of plot points that don't seem to go anywhere, cause they're parts of much bigger arcs, but there's some really sweet talk about deep stuff towards the end and the start is Steph handling a deescalation scenario Hope you enjoy ^w^ !

Dear War Diary,

You know, some days I don't even think Ivy should be in Arkham. Logging, pollution, hair spray tearing a hole in the ozone layer, pesticides - if I could feel plants' pain as they were broken apart, I'd want to feed people to ambulatory venus fly traps too. Heck, back in high school I was sure tempted to let her have at some of my more obnoxious classmates.

Unfortunately, today was not one of those days.

We knew something was weird this time around when the docs at Arkham called warning us that she woke up screaming and her powers went out of control. Usually when this sort of thing happens she goes towards a clear goal. Like, there'll be a construction site or a factory or something damaging the land and drawing her out.

Thing is though, the more we chased her, the clearer it became that she wasn't running towards anything.

She was fleeing, and seemingly had no clear place to bolt to. First she fled to the meat packing district. Then she ran down to the water, and like, we expected her to follow the coast? But she just swam right in! Left huge algal blooms in her wake too; like the lacy train of a queen's dress. She even left Gotham altogether for a hot minute only to turn back again for no reason. She was very obviously out of her mind frightened of something, but we had no idea what it was, and frankly, we still don't.

Tonight had real big 'predator running from the wildfire' energy, is what I'm saying.

It took several days, but eventually she gave up on running and bunkered down in one of the parks. The concrete storage shed she picked as her new home was so overgrown by the time we got to it that it was impossible to see a single square inch of the structure. The hardwood and thorn vines covering it had to have been at least a meter thick.

And that little backstory finally brings us to tonight's patrol.

I tapped my earpiece, "We getting anything on the seismic, O?"

"Nope. If she's digging she's doing it slow enough we're not gonna get any warning. Good news though, I finally got an answer back from Waller. Harley Quinn can be on the line within ten minutes notice."

"Awesome. Speedy, you good to cover me?"

"Yup! Got a whole quiver full of tranquilizers and frog crotch arrows ready for her."

I snort-laughed, "God, what a name!"

"I know right?! But yeah, you're good to go. I'll be aiming from the East, so gimmie a sign if you think you'll need me at a different angle."

"Got it. Alright O, give that ten minute notice and I'll start the approach."

Step one: Get the cops to back up the perimeter by at least ten feet all around. Frankly they were gonna be useless in a fight if it came to that, and the whole goal here was to get this done without bloodshed.

This part was pretty damn easy. I knew one of the cops there by name and she was more than happy to back her fellow officers out of the negotiation zone.

Step two: Establish a desire for peaceful communication.

I spoke through a megaphone into the general direction of the tree-bunker, "Doctor Isley? Would you be willing to come out and talk?"

The woods creaked and groaned, shifting minutely. My heart pounded in my chest, waiting, watching, every leaf bud an acid spitting behemoth in the making.

Nothing came out.

I called out to her again, "Okay. Doctor Isley, you seem really upset, and we don't understand why, but you haven't hurt anyone yet so we're not going to hurt you."

I glanced around surreptitiously at the cops. Lucky for me they all seem to be on their best behavior tonight. No one was grumbling about wanting to hurt her loud enough for me to hear, and I just had to trust that meant the grass couldn't hear them either.

"If you don't want to talk to me, that's okay. We want to get you some help, so we're going to try and get Harley on the phone so you can talk to her."

Against my ear, the phone crackled to life.

Time for step three: Get negotiation partner on board.

"Which bat-brat do I have the displeasure of speakin to today!?"

"It's Batgirl; we need your help getting through to Ivy."

"HAH! Well fat fuckin chance, asshole! I ain't talkin her inta anythin she don't wanna do!"

"And we're not asking you to! She hasn't even hurt anybody, and she's not making any threats, but she is clearly terrified. We think there's something or someone after her, and it's not us."

I gave her a moment to think it over. She's got to know we wouldn't let Ivy die, but there's always the chance we're just lying.

"Fine. Alright, what's the plan here?"

"Thank you! I'm gonna hold the speaker up to the megaphone, and you let her know you want to talk, then I'll slowly approach and once in speaking range I'll take the megaphone off of the phone to give the two of you some privacy."

"An you'll still be listinen the whole damn time of course."

"Yeah, sorry about that, but at least the cops won't be."

Harley sighs, "Turn the lights down in the house and start the music then. Lets get this show rollin an' over with."

Step four: Negotiate and deescalate.

Through the phone megaphone combo she said, "Hey Sweetpea, mind lettin me hear yer pretty voice again?"

The protective wall started growing again, getting thicker. I chance a few slow steps forwards anyway, since nothing offensive starts growing either. Or at least I hoped there wasn't something offensive in there.

"I've missed ya. Not the same kickin ass with these bozos in here, ya'know?"

As I got closer, the smell of ozone got stronger, breathing started to feel weird, and every drop of sweat evaporated off of me, leaving me parched. Her hypergrowth vegetation was stripping the carbon dioxide and water out of the air so fast that the atmosphere around it was going haywire.

Just as I thought she was waiting for me to get close enough for her tree's roots to just use me as a nutrient bag, an opening formed over the doorway to the storage unit, and she shakily poked her head out, calling for Harleen.

She was messed up. She clearly hadn't been able to take care of herself and

I'm not writing the next part down verbatim. Just seems too... invasive. They said a lot of sweet an

I don't feel great about this, but just in case I need it, I am going to record what I remember of how Harley talked her down.

Harley said, "Pumpkin, I'm so sorr

Okay. Third time's the charm?

This was not a criminal wrecking havok for profit. This was not a terrorist making demands. This was someone having a breakdown due to forces outside her control and her girlfriend comforting her as best she could. I shouldn't even have been hearing it, really, so yeah I think I'd feel too skeezy to keep dinner down if I wrote it all out 'just in case'.

Informationally speaking, hopefully the only part of their conversation I'll ever need to know again is that Ivy said "The green is dying" and "She's made the world barren; the flowers will never bloom again" and basically made it really clear that the damage was already done and no one was after her.

If you're reading this Future Me and you desperately need to know exactly what happened, sorry not sorry, get a time machine or something.

Anyways, after it became clear that there was nothing we could do for her other than get her back to mental help, I gave Speedy the signal to take the shot. The tranqs hit her before she realized anything was up, and there were only a few seconds of scuffle, then she was down for the count.

I picked up the phone again to cut the line and Harley said, "So that's it, huh? I talk her into openin' the treeline, you drug her up, and that's curtains?"

"There clearly wasn't anything else we could do for-"

"Fuck off you insufferable, controlling, shitty, furry knock off cops! I shoulda told her ta mulch ya!"

There were the muffled sounds of the phone being taken out of her hand, and then a voice I didn't recognize, "Well, I hope that clown to plant heart to heart was worth the favor."

"Zero injuries, zero deaths, zero horrifying poison scares: I'd say it was."

She, whoever she was (I assume it was Waller) chuckled, "Well you aren't the one picking up the tab. Tell Oracle it was a pleasure doing business again."

The line went dead.

"You get that O?"

"Loud and clear. And hey, don't let what Quinn said get to you. You did great."

"Thanks," I kinda didn't feel it, but the sentiment was nice.

The rest of patrol was a long and boring ride on the top of a police van, making sure that no one ambushed her on her way back to Arkham, and then a short conversation about what they're going to do to keep her there this time.

They've had a couple different ways to cut her off from whatever The Green is for a while now. Every method has nasty side effects, and half her breakout attempts were in direct opposition to using them. At this point their policy is to just help her manage being connected. Considering what I saw that connection putting her through tonight? The docs rubber stamped cutting her off from The Green again, at least temporarily, and I'm pretty okay that.

So yeah. We won. Yippee. And all it took was arm twisting a woman held prisoner by a shadowy government agency in order to trick the love of her life into making herself vulnerable to us...

God this job sucks sometimes.

And the suck was not over yet, not by a long shot! And the suck was not only reserved for me either. Uh, okay obviously since Harley and Ivy, but also!

Oracle called to tell me this: "I need to give you a heads up before you return to base, and Speedy needs some time to handle a private phone call so I'm telling you this now. Black Bat got into a fight that upset her pretty bad. She's been on the training sims and dummies for over three hours, and I'm kinda worried she's not gonna sleep unless someone helps her untangle her head."

"I thought everything went smooth on her end, what the heck happened?"

"Easier if I just show you," Oracle said and fed a video taken by one of the Bat-House's internal cameras into my HUD.

It showed Ca (gah trying not to write anyone's names is a mess) Black Bat in civilian clothes, standing in a doorway. She's staring at the Red Hood from across the room with an expression of frustrated determination.

He ignores her for a while, continuing to read, curled up on the couch in a posture so terrible I have to wonder if he's trying to give himself back problems.

She just... kept staring. And staring.

Finally he asked, sounding very snarky and annoyed, "Can I help you?"

"Why did you pull the trigger again? You were better. You did better for so long. Why?"

"I don't owe you that shit," He narrowed his eyes at her, "And you don't get to decide I was better just cause you liked it more when I was docile."

She marches over to him, "I know how it hurts. I see it hurt you! I want to help. I want to know why."

"No," He said, standing up to loom over her, as though she couldn't kick his ass five ways from Sunday with a hand tied behind her back, "You want me to get on my knees and sob and beg for forgiveness. As though any of you shitheads ever even deserved my forgiveness!"

"No! I want to see you get better! I wanted another little brother!"

"Well congratu-fucking-lations, you got one! Don't worry, Dickie hates it just as much. I'm sure he can give you some pointers on how to go fuck yourself about it."

My jaw started hurting from how tight I had my teeth clenched as I watched her face twist in open rage-hurt-sorrow, "Why won't you stop burning our house down!? You're in it!"

"I. Don't. Owe. You. That."

She glared up at him defiantly, "You owe someone."

"No. I don't."

"Sheezus!" Black Canary said as she entered the room, "I leave you alone for five minutes and you're already picking a fight with her? Seriously?"

Black Bat's anger simmered below the boiling point again, "Not a fight."

"That sure looked like-"

"Not a fight." She declared bitterly, storming out of the room.

BC raised an eyebrow at Hood.

He smiled all teeth and irritation, "Not a fight!"

She rolled her eyes and took her post back up as the video ended.

I sighed, "Well. That'd do it. Thanks for the warning, I'll see if I can talk to her, take her mind off it."

"Appreciated. I tried but... I dunno. You'll probably have more luck."

"We'll see I guess! So, am I good to check in with Speedy, or is she still on her phone call?"

"You're good."

When I grappled up to the roof she was on, Speedy looked pretty damn unhappy. So, like, clearly tonight was sucking complete ass for everyone. Mercury in retrograde or some shit, idk.

"You got news I take it?" I asked.

"Mhm, great news! By which I mean totally shit news. Apparently the lab I get my bloodwork done at broke, as in everything is giving false negatives. So yeah, all my bloodwork for the past who knows how long might have been wrong!"

"Oh shit. You want us to test you in the Batcave? Guarantee the lab down there could handle whatever you need!"

"I appreciate the offer, but I'll need to fast for twelve hours beforehand no matter what, so it wouldn't really be any quicker. Also my civilian GP would be pretty leery of a Bat-Diagnostic, especially since they already got me an appointment with the closest available people."

O cut in over comms, "That is suspiciously fast..."

Speedy shrugged, "I've got a feeling Green Arrow might have pushed me up the list somehow. He might not be (secret identity stuff I can't write down here :P ) anymore, but he's still got some pull."

"Hmm, well, both of you get back to base and we can figure out the logistics once you're here."

"Roger."

"Aye Aye Captain."

Once she cut off I offered, "Grapple line tag on the way there to take your mind off it?"

"You know what? I could use something to stretch my legs out after all that sniper crouching. Fuck it, let's do this."

Swingy swingy swingy over the buildings, across the bridge, to grandmother's imposing, minefield-surrounded cave we went!

We got into the cave, changed out of our gear, and sure enough, Black Bat was still in the training section, running herself ragged. Speedy went up to get some sleep since she couldn't eat dinner now anyways (do NOT envy that). So I went straight into an attempt to pry Black Bat off the training mats.

"Heads up!" I called out and tossed a bottle of water at her head.

She caught it without even looking, swapping to kicks and using her other hand to demolish her sandbag opponents, "Been drinking enough just fine."

"Sure. What'll it take to convince you to take a break and drink it with me anyways?"

She paused, leg still raised to kick, perfectly poised like gravity wasn't even a factor. It always makes my legs hurt looking her like that. Makes the rest of me swoon too.

"Would um..." She frowned, like she expected me to think less of her for making the request, "You bring dinner down here? For us both?"

I gave her a smile, "Yeah, of course. Mind saying how come?"

"Because Hood's up there and I want to fight him more. If I fight him, have to look at him. Have to watch him feeling and thinking and..." She finally put her leg down, and fidgeted with the cap of her water, "And I just don't want to."

"Didn't realize you hated him that bad."

"Not sure I do? Messy."

"Yeah, messy for me too."

Translation: I still don't know how to feel about him taking grisly revenge against Black Mask 'in my honor'. Still also super don't know how to feel about his welcome home gifts of a gun and an offer to come murder criminals with him.

Then I add, "But I'll have you know I'm a first class mess messer with-er! So if you want to talk about it, I'd be happy to."

She very briefly smiled, then her face feel again and somber moment passed before she said quietly, "Yeah, okay. Bring food down and... we can talk."

"On it."

"Um, wait!"

"Huh?"

She caught my arm and reeled me in for a kiss on the cheek, "There."

I laughed and gave her a proper kiss, "There! Love you."

Diary, have I ever told you about how she looks when she blushes? Because I seriously think I'll need to pull out the old poetry textbooks in order to do it justice.

Upstairs took me passed the dining room, where Red Hood and Red Robin were talking.

"The fuck is that?" Hood asked, leaning over his shoulder.

"Blueprints. I'm having a section of my house renovated while I'm stuck here."

"Wwwwhy?"

"I am swiftly being driven mad by boredom and saw a really neat indoor garden set-up on pinterest."

"An indoor garden? In Gotham? Do you fuckin want to get strangled to death in your sleep by vines?"

RR does the little 'tch' thing he picked up from Robin, "Whatever, it'll be fine, these are tiny little arboreals and I'll have reinforced airlocks leading in and out."

"That does fucking nothing for attacks in your sleep."

"Which is why I'll have the whole lockdown system automated. I was already going to do automation for the plant care stuff anyways, cause lets be honest here, there was no way I was ever going to keep them alive on my own."

"...The speed and ease with which you oscillate between self depreciating paranoia and megalomaniacal hubris is fascinating."

And even as pissed off as I am with both of them, that still almost made me friggin lose it laughing, RR seemed so offended too, it was great!

And speaking of pissed off? Yeah, seeing RR acting so chummy with Hood was kinda making my blood boil! Like, maybe he didn't even know they fought. But he's supposed to be her friend too, and it's still sticking in my craw, and I'm busy with the whole damn city needing patroled, and so bottom line: I didn't talk to him tonight, and I'm probably not gonna talk to him tomorrow night either!!

Agent A had several plates set to the side already when I got into the kitchen. I think he assumed at least a few of us were gonna go off in our separate corners after the argument. Made it nice and easy to snag two and bring it down.

She had clearly been pacing, waiting for me, back down in the cave.

We sat together and she held my hand while we ate - pretty awkward, but super worth it. We stayed quiet, me cause I wanted to give her the space to start talking, and her probably because she wasn't sure where to start.

Once all the peas and mash were gone and she was pushing her drumstick around the plate she asked, "Ready?"

"Go for it. All ears."

"It's a guilt thing I think? Least a little?"

"Kinda always figured you were uh, how to put it, I guess invested in him, cause of that sort of parallel between you two?"

She nodded, "Not all of it's that, though. Different guilt," She gives me a rueful smile, "I'm layered in it, huh?"

"Like a lasagna of angst," I told her solemnly.

She huffed a quiet laugh, fidgeting with my hand, "Am I um. A tasty lasagna?"

"Oh yeah, you're delicious," I said with a cheesy wink.

"Terrible," She laughed a bit more, running her thumb over the back of my hand, and the nervous sad crept right back in, "You know about um... One day, I rescued a man? Murderer. From the gas chamber?"

"Yeah. Not well, you've never said much, but I've read a bit about it. Was kind of a big news thing."

"On the way out I met the mother of his victim. She demanded justice. She demanded his death. I didn't know how to- to reconcile her grief. Still don't. But back then... I put him back in the gas chamber. I look at Hood. Wonder if he's the murderer or the mother or the executioner. Wonder what the mother was. Wonder what I was. Wonder if the distinction matters at all."

"Hood's trying to cut all the bad people out, trying to bleed the world better. You're trying to keep it all alive, trying to keep everyone growing. Maybe the other distinctions don't matter, but I think this one has to."

She squeezed my hand tight and kissed every one of my knuckles delicately, "I hope so. Trying to believe so."

"I kinda think you already do. You may be an angst lasagna, but you don't do what you do just out of guilt, yeah?"

"Guess so... I wanted so bad to find out that they'd been replaced by aliens or something. Find out that wasn't him. Not now and um. Not on TV all those months ago. At the very least I was hoping to find regret."

"I really wish I had something better to say than, you know, his determination to be an asshole isn't something we can fix. Just gotta keep growing our garden and hope he decides to join us for real sometime."

"Yeah..." Another round of knuckle kisses, "Yeah, you're right," She wrinkles her nose, "Sucks you're right."

"Yup."

She pressed her forehead against our intertwined hands for a while.

Then she asked, "Tell me about one of your shows?"

"Sure."

So I chattered about some light stuff she nodded along to until we were both ready for bed. It was honestly really nice, and I think I needed it too, a lot more than I realized.

So yeah, here's hoping tomorrow is less of a complete shit show from start to finish.

- Batgirl IV

[urbanyardstudios]

Affordable Creative Studio & Fabric Design Spaces in NYC

iscover Creative Studio Spaces in Queens and Fabric Design Studio Rentals in NYC

For artists, designers, and creators, having the right space to work is essential. New York City’s dynamic arts scene offers a wide array of options for those in need of a creative studio, and Queens has emerged as a prime location for artists looking for both affordability and inspiration. Meanwhile, fabric designers in NYC can find specialized studio rentals designed to support their unique creative processes. Whether you’re an artist in need of a studio in Queens or a fabric designer seeking the perfect setup in the city, both offer incredible opportunities to bring your artistic visions to life.

Queens: A Growing Hub for Creative Studio Spaces

Creative studio space queens has  quietly become a creative hotspot, attracting artists from all over due to its affordability and artistic community. Unlike the more expensive neighborhoods in Manhattan and Brooklyn, Queens offers studio spaces that don’t break the bank, allowing artists to focus on their craft rather than rent.

The borough’s diverse population adds to the creative energy in Queens. This multicultural atmosphere fosters artistic growth, creating an environment where new ideas and collaborations can easily take root. Whether you're a painter, photographer, sculptor, or digital artist, the broad range of studio spaces in Queens allows you to find a space that suits your needs. You can choose between private studios where you can concentrate on your work or shared spaces that encourage interaction with other artists.

One of the best things about Queens is its accessibility. With public transportation connecting the borough to other parts of New York City, including Manhattan and Brooklyn, artists based in Queens can easily stay connected to the larger art scene. It’s a place where you can have both — the vibrancy of city life and the peaceful space needed to create.

Beyond accessibility and affordability, Queens offers a sense of community that’s often hard to find in larger, more commercialized art hubs. Many of the studio spaces in Queens are part of larger artist collectives, which provide networking opportunities, workshops, and exhibitions. The sense of belonging to a creative community makes the studio rental experience in Queens more than just having a workspace — it’s about joining a movement.

Fabric Design Studios in NYC: A Dream for Textile Artists

For fabric designers, New York City holds a special appeal. As one of the world’s fashion capitals, NYC offers unparalleled resources for textile and fashion design. Renting a fabric design studio in the city provides the ideal environment for experimenting with textiles, patterns, and garment creation.

What makes fabric design studios in NYC stand out is the access to specialized equipment and facilities that are often included. Many of these spaces are equipped with large cutting tables, industrial sewing machines, and plenty of storage for fabrics and supplies. Designers can spread out their materials, test new techniques, and refine their craft without the spatial limitations often encountered in smaller studios or home offices.

The proximity to the Garment District is another key advantage of renting a fabric design studio in NYC. This area is home to fabric wholesalers, suppliers, and other industry professionals who play a critical role in bringing fashion projects to life. Designers can easily source materials, make connections, and attend events that are vital to their growth in the industry.

Beyond practical considerations, being in NYC places fabric designers at the heart of a vibrant design community. Whether it's attending exhibitions, visiting museums for inspiration, or participating in New York Fashion Week, fabric designers in the city are constantly surrounded by opportunities to learn, grow, and innovate.

Renting a studio space tailored to fabric design allows you to focus on your work in an environment designed specifically for your craft. It’s a space where creativity flows freely, where you can interact with fellow designers, and where the tools of your trade are at your fingertips.

Finding the Right Space for Your Creative Needs

Whether you're an artist in Queens or a fabric designer in NYC, finding the right studio is crucial to your creative process. Choosing the right space can make a significant difference in your work. The goal is to find a space that allows you to immerse yourself fully in your art, without distractions or limitations.

For artists in Queens, the affordability and range of available studio spaces make it easier to find a space that fits your needs. Whether you’re looking for a small private studio or a larger space where you can work alongside other creatives, Queens has options that allow you to create freely and without the pressure of high overhead costs.

Fabric designers in NYC, on the other hand, may require more specialized spaces. Finding a studio that has the necessary equipment, such as industrial sewing machines or dyeing areas, can be a game-changer. In a city like New York, where the fashion industry is at your doorstep, having a dedicated space to work on textiles and fabrics can help take your designs to the next level.

Both artists in Queens and Fabric design studio rental nyc should also consider the community aspect of their studio spaces. Many studios are part of larger creative networks that offer valuable opportunities for collaboration, learning, and exposure. Being part of a community can not only enrich your experience but also lead to professional growth.

Conclusion

Queens and NYC offer an incredible range of opportunities for creatives seeking the perfect studio space. Whether you’re looking for an affordable, flexible studio in Queens or a specialized fabric design studio in NYC, these spaces are more than just workrooms — they are environments where creativity is nurtured. Finding the right studio will allow you to focus on your art, join a vibrant community, and take your creative work to new heights

[designdekko]

Top 10 Mother's Day gift ideas

Mother’s Day is just around the corner, and while you don’t need to prove how much you love your momma, you still do! No way out ‘cause that’s miss-MOMster! Here are the top 10 Mother’s Day gift ideas to let your mother know she’s your happy place, your superhero!

President Woodrow Wilson formally announced Mother’s Day as a national observance. The first national Mother’s Day was held on May 10, 1914, and to this day, it’s widely celebrated. If you want to love your mother a little more now that you ain’t little anymore, it’s time to start planning for the perfect Mother’s Day gift! From practical gift solutions to emotional keepsakes, there are myriad options for your remarkable woman. Make this Mother’s Day an unforgettable memory for your mom by giving her the best gift! 

Also Read | MERAKI: New Adhesive Wall Coverings Designed by Artists From Quebec

Finding the right Mother’s Day gift for the gorgeous woman is daunting. But why fear when we’re here? This blog discusses the top 10 Mother’s Day gifts to make your mama bear feel cherished and appreciated on this special day. 

Fresh-smelling Candles

Your mother is a woman like no other and sentimental gifts that evoke joy and happiness is (literally) everything! That’s why candles make the perfect Mother’s Day gift. If you’re looking for a collection of candles for your momsie, India Circus’ fresh-smelling candles can be an excellent option. 

Also Read | Bright whites, chrome yellows, and curved geometry put together a space that promotes life

Also, shhh, let us tell you a secret – moms love candles infused with essential oils and a refreshing scent! So, we’ve made it easy for you because you don’t have to juggle from one store to another, looking for “ideal” candles. India Circus’ candles come in several fragrances, such as jasmine, rose, and lavender. And, oh well, not just pretty fragrances (mind it) but glass jars that are the ultimate decor-changer! Give your mother the gift of peace this Mother’s Day with India Circus’ fresh-smelling candles!

Eye Masks

Moms need a break, okay? From all the hard work that goes into managing the home, office, and your weird needs, the queen gets tired! And we don’t want that. What we do want is – a soft and serene eye mask that will wash her worries into thin air. An eye mask is the literal Mother’s Day gift because this beauty needs extra pampering. 

Also Read | Kareena Kapoor Khan’s new home in Bandra with European styled decor & wooden detailin

Whether your mum’s a homemaker or an office-goer, a cooling eye mask can do wonders after a strenuous day. India Circus offers a wide range of eye masks to cater to your mum’s needs. Made with materials that feel soft on the skin, these eye masks are effective for a good night’s sleep. So, if you love her, let her sleep in one of these eye masks and enjoy her happy morning glow!

Wallet

This Mother’s Day, let your momma know that your love is always with her no matter where she is. And how will you do that? Yep, a wallet! Practical and thoughtful, a wallet is an excellent Mother’s Day gift. Consider getting her a fancy wallet with plenty of space for organizing cash, coins, and cards. If she prefers a more compact and sleek design, a minimalist cardholder would be precisely what she needs. 

Also Read | Five interesting ways to redefine your kitchen

Whether your mom adores simplicity or bold designs, India Circus has a variety of wallets to offer. These wallets are made with premium-quality materials, ensuring they last her a lifetime, just like your love. Also, these wallets are functional and fashionable at best. Now be rest assured ‘cause your mum will be reminded of your love every time she uses her new wallet. 

Storage Solutions

Moms deserve the gift of organization because, let’s face it, maintaining a house is a heck of a deal. So, why don’t you get your mommy a stylish storage solution this Mother’s Day? India Circus provides an extensive collection of unique and valuable storage boxes and trays to keep the home elegant and clutter-free. 

Also Read | Holt Renfrew Ogilvy dazzles as a sustainably forward luxury flagship

Inspired by Indian heritage, India Circus’ storage solutions come in paisley patterns and sophisticated geometric shapes. They are made from high-quality materials like metal, fabric, and wood – built to last. Whether she wants to organize cosmetics or household goods, India Circus has something for every storage solution. The clock’s ticking – get your mum the gift of style and comfort this Mother’s Day!

Lively Planters

Moms work hard so their plants can have a better life. And here we’re wondering what to get her on Mother’s Day, lol? Of course, lively planters! Give your mom the gift of greenery, and oh boy, will she love it! Whether your mother prefers flowers or succulents, lively planters beautifully showcase her favourite plants. 

Also Read: How to Design a Perfect Kitchen

India Circus comes with numerous eye-catching planters with vibrant colours and sophisticated patterns. Crafted with premium-quality materials, from ceramic to metal, these planters will stand the test of time. Not only do they add character, but they also refresh the space with positivity, making it an excellent Mother’s Day gift option. 

Coffee Mugs

If coffee is her love language, coffee mugs will make the perfect Mother’s Day gift! With distinctive design elements and rich colours, mugs are always a good gifting option. India Circus has thoughtful and affordable mugs for your mum to enjoy tea or coffee. So, show your mom some appreciation for all that she does for you with these fancy mugs from India Circus. 

Wall Art

Wall arts are, again, a never-go-wrong gift! They add a touch of beauty to the space, and mothers love everything beautiful – ‘cause they are themselves so beautiful (aww!) So, if you’re looking for something abstract or traditional, India Circus has plenty of options to cater to your mum’s style.

Also Read:10 reasons to use greenery in decor

Inspired by Indian culture, the wall art is printed on high-quality fabric with intricate designs, bold geometric shapes, and floral motifs. We promise you they will make a lasting impression on your mom! Shop our collection today and make your special lady feel oh-so-special special! 

Cushion Cover Sets 

Intricate embroidery and moms are BFFs. Not to mention, mothers’ love for bold prints and sophisticated design elements is unconditional. And so, cushion cover sets make excellent Mother’s Day gift options. India Circus provides an extensive collection of cushion cover sets in several colours, patterns, and designs. Crafted with premium-quality materials, these cushion covers are durable and long-lasting. Search for its ranges online and make your mommy a happy woman this Mother’s Day!

Lunch Boxes

https://www.designdekko.com/uploads/content/Lunch-boxes.jpg

Mothers and lunch boxes go hand-in-hand. Whether to pack lunch for the kids or husband, lunch boxes make mealtime more fun and convenient. Made in compact sizes with Indian motifs-inspired design, India Circus’ lunch boxes keep the food fresh for extended periods. These boxes blend style and functionality, making them the perfect Mother’s Day gift!

Lamps & Lanterns

If your mom is a perfectionist in home decor, lamps & lanterns will be a wonderful Mother’s Day gift option. Not only do they elevate the aesthetics of a space, but they also feature a stunning array of lighting options that instantly brightens up the room. From sleek table lamps to ornate lanterns, India Circus offers Indian art and culture-inspired products at an affordable price. You can give your mum the best gift ever and not break the bank. Shop today!

Wrapping Up

Mother’s Day is a sentimental day for brave moms. If you want to celebrate Mother’s Day and get her something she will cherish, consider the options we’ve listed above. All of these products are durable and stylish. No matter what you choose, make sure it comes from within and shows her how wonderful she is. Here’s your chance to light up your mother’s life with these beautiful and unique pieces. 

Happy Mother’s Day!

Also Read | Interior stylist Bhawana Bhatnagar on smart lockers at residential spaces

Source Link

[bedsdivans1]

Best Diwan Bed with Mattress online in UK

Best Diwan Bed with Mattress online in UK

Best Divan Beds

Most people today live in apartments, especially in big cities. In these smaller homes, lack of space is usually a constraint, which can easily be solved by choosing furniture that is not just aesthetically pleasing but also multi-functional. Just like platform storage beds in all bedrooms solve the problem of lack of storage space, a Best Diwan Bed With Mattress online in Uk put into your study, child's room and even the living room itself will solve the problem of accommodating extra guests.

There was a time when every home had a separate guest room. Today, with smaller homes, guest rooms are no longer necessary, though people try to accommodate their guests in the best way possible. It was common to see living rooms with extra wooden single beds, kept like a 'diwan' for extra seating where guests could spend the night. Today, with more and more people having a contemporary decor style, the 'diwan' is a story of the past. Most people invest in high-quality couches, leather sofas, and upholstered sofas in linen that leaves no room for an additional wooden single bed in the living area. To solve that problem, sofas cum beds were introduced.

Now the sofa cum bed is of many kinds. You can buy a wooden sofa cum bed, where the bottom portion opens up like a drawer with a thicker mattress so as to create a large wooden double bed to accommodate guests. Another popular option is a foam sofa cum bed that is upholstered and can convert into a bed that is essentially just a 6 to 10-inch thick mattress. These are cheaper, as no wood is used in them. These are just folded pieces of thick foam, held together by the upholstered fabric that comes with zippers. These come in two sizes - a 3 feet size that converts into a single bed and 5 feet size that converts into a double queen size bed.

It is also possible to get sofas customized in order for them to become sofa cum beds when extra sleeping arrangements are needed. Very popular is the leather sofa bed, which works like a plush couch on most days and converts into a comfortable leather bed for guests to sleep in. If you do have an extra study room or a home office, putting a sofa cum bed in this space is a great idea. These sofas can be used for clients to sit on, for you to do some reading work, and will easily convert into a bed that is in an enclosed area for privacy when guests come over.

A sofa cum bed is also a great idea for your child's bedroom, especially if the child is slightly older. The sofa can be used to entertain friends, do a little reading, and lounge around, and can easily be converted into an extra bed when cousins and friends of your child stay over. All in all, a sofa cum bed is a functional option and more aesthetically pleasing than having a wooden single bed fitted oddly in the home decor.

CONTACT US FOR ANY QUESTIONS

ADDRESS - Riverside Building, County Hall, London SE1 7PB, United Kingdom

Phone - 01902405535

Email - info@bedsdivans.co.uk

Website - https://www.bedsdivans.co.uk/

Top of Form

[devnair32]

Ideas for Small Bedrooms: How to Make the Most of Your Limited Space

Summary: Using natural lighting, multi-purpose furniture, and minimal decor accessories are some effective small bedroom space saving ideas.

Designing small bedrooms is quite a challenging task for homeowners. You need to fit a bed, closet, dressing table, and other decor items in a space that already looks cramped. Add to this the office chair and desk for a home office, and turning your small bedroom into a modern space will look impossible.  

If you also have a small and cramped room, you are in the right place. In this post, we are going to discuss some space saving bedroom ideas that can help you make the best out of your confined space. Let’s get started.

Install a Vanity Unit

If you have a king-sized or queen-sized bed in your room, it will already take up a lot of space. Adding a dressing unit won’t look like a good idea when one piece of furniture takes up most of the available space. You don’t have to give up on the dressing table, though. A vanity unit that keeps your makeup in hidden storage makes a perfect addition to a small bedroom. When you are done using the makeup, you can shut the doors to create a de-cluttered and streamlined look.

Use Storage Wisely

Adding a storage unit will only make your space appear smaller and cluttered. One of the best space saving ideas for small bedrooms would be versatile furniture that serves multiple purposes. For instance, a bed with storage drawers at the bottom can help keep your stuff organized and out of sight. You can also build a storage space below the ceiling to keep your floors open and clean.

Arrange Your Furniture Properly

Furniture arrangement matters as much as furniture when designing a small bedroom. Ideally, you should keep the furniture count minimal. Just the bed with a study table should suffice. If you are adding more pieces, make sure they are placed close to the wall where other pieces of furniture are placed. For instance, a nightstand should go right next to the bed.

Paint Makes a Big Difference

Do you know the colors that go on your walls can create an illusion of a bigger space? Pastel or neutral colors are the most popular options for bedrooms. These hues are pleasant to look at and create an airy space. Colors also affect your energy, productivity, and motivation. Blue, for example, boosts productivity, and orange motivates you.

Use a Dressing Table as Your Office Desk

Moving computers to your bedrooms is a bad idea. That’s why most work-from-home employees build a separate place for work at home. However, if the bedroom is your only chance at working from the comfort of your couch, double up your dressing table as your work table. The lotions, creams, and makeup stuff can go in your cupboard. This way, you can free up the space for your work stuff without installing an additional desk.

Resource Box: Saviesa has a team of professional interior designers that offer amazing space saving small bedroom ideas.

[reviewsheroes]

🎬🎬 Top 5 Best Bean Bag Chairs.

📌Product Link📌:

👉1. Chill Sack Bean Bag Chair 🔗https://amzn.to/3tjcWVI

👉2. Sofa Sack Ultra Soft Bean Bag Chair 🔗https://amzn.to/3DWiB93

👉3. CordaRoy’s Chenille Bean Bag Chair 🔗https://amzn.to/3A2H4Zv

👉4. Posh Creations Bean Bag Chair 🔗https://amzn.to/3TqCRp0

👉5. Butterfly Craze Stuffed Animal Storage Bean Bag Chair 🔗https://amzn.to/3Tpsulp

The Best Bean Bag Chairs.

Bean bag chairs are comfortable and cozy pieces of furniture. Depending on your choice, you may find a suitable option from the below-mentioned list of the best bean bag chairs. Bean bag chairs are versatile as you can use them in living rooms, bedrooms, balconies, patios, etc. They are comfortable as they adjust to your body contour when sitting or lounging on them. They have gained a lot of popularity in the past few years because of the ease of moving them across the house. Bean bag chairs are available in various shapes, sizes, colors, materials, styles, cover fabrics, and filling materials. Watch on to check out some cool bean bag chairs. Number 1. Best Stain-Resistant: Chill Sack Bean Bag Chair. The Chill Sack bean bag has a classic look and could be a great addition to your game room or bedroom. It is made of shredded and soft memory foam that maintains shape and is highly durable and is covered with a soft microsuede fiber. The bag measures 60 by 60 by 34 inches, an ideal size for relaxing in any room. What We Like. Large enough for two people. Double-stitched seams for extra strength and prolonged use. Removable, machine-washable cover. Stain- and fade-resistant. What We Don't Like. Some may find the stuffing to be insufficient. Number 2. Best Lightweight: Sofa Sack Ultra Soft Bean Bag Chair. This three-foot-tall bag could be a great option if you want a portable and soft foam bean bag chair. It measures 36 by 36 inches to fit children and younger teens comfortably but is also big enough for adults to relax. What We Like. Simple, soft, and stylish. Complements home decor. Made of fluffy memory foam. Remains intact even after prolonged use. Features a soft velvet suede cover. Double-stitched seams offer maximum strength. What We Don't Like. May not be easy to clean. Number 3. Best Long-Lasting: CordaRoy’s Chenille Bean Bag Chair.

This convertible bean bag from CordaRoy’s is available in king, queen, and full-size options. The functional piece of furniture can accommodate two people comfortably when folded. When unfolded, it makes a cozy bed to sleep on. What We Like. Super-soft and shredded foam filling relaxes your body. Easy-to-wipe polyester microfiber outer cover. Washer- and dryer-safe cover. What We Don't Like. May not be water-resistant. Number 4. Best For All Ages: Posh Creations Bean Bag Chair.

Posh beanbags are a comfortable addition to any living space or office and are available in a wide range of styles and colors. Stuffed with high-quality polystyrene beans, there are three different sizes suitable for all ages. What We Like. Ultra-soft polystyrene beans for extra comfort. Removable and washable cover. Suitable for children and adults. What We Don't Like. The seams on the strap may be prone to splitting. Number 5. Best Hypoallergenic: Butterfly Craze Stuffed Animal Storage Bean Bag Chair.

Constructed with 100% premium cotton canvas, this Butterfly craze bean bag chair provides maximum durability. It is a two-in-one gift idea for kids as it can be used as a chair and also a storage organizer for toys. Features Giant stuffing seat of 200L capacity. Great place for stuffing pillows, blankets, and clothes too. Measures 50 by 30 by 35 inches and is suitable for all ages. Can be used as a floor lounger for reading. _________ Hey guys in this video we are going to be checking out the best product. You Can Buy it Right Now. We Made This List Based On Our Personal Opinion and hours of research & we have listed them based on the type of features and Prices. We have included options for every type of user so whether you are looking for the best budget.

If you want more information and updated pricing on the product mentioned be sure to check the links in the description. _________ DISCLAIMER: Portions of footage found in this video are not original content produced by This channel. Portions of stock footage of products were gathered from multiple sources including, amazon manufacturers, fellow creators, and various other sources.

"All claims, guarantees, and product specifications are provided by the manufacturer or vendor. This Channel cannot be held responsible for these claims, guarantees, or specifications"

“As an Amazon Associate, I Earn From Qualifying Purchases.”

▶️▶️ Subscribe now and start the Pleasure! 💙💙

[donutloverxo]

A Royal Scandal 3

Modern Royal King!Steve au

(Image from Pinterest)

cowritten with @lizzygal​

Note - There will be no taglists for this. You can subscribe to the  ao3 story to receive updates!

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

Summary - Modern ruler, His Majesty King Steven G Rogers, is on a quest to make his long term secret relationship the real thing. He is a man in love and wants his lover and partner to be his queen.

Warnings - Smut (m/f), dub con/non con, sex tape, scandals, mentions of past domestic abuse, soft dark Steve, possessive Steve, spanking, power imbalance, mentions of previous domestic abuse, somnophilia.

Pairing - King!Steve x reader

Word count - 7k

Story masterlist

Sometimes Steven forgot that you weren’t that much younger than him. He forgot about a lot of things when it was only the two of you. You did that to him. You made him forget things that everyone else reminded him of constantly, intentional and not.

Early that morning was no different.

Long before his alarm went off, Steve found himself on his side watching you sleep. Feeling in every way equal to you, like there was not this huge ocean of things that he did not have in common with you, opposed to what the two of you shared.

Obviously, he was the son of kings and tyrants while you were the daughter of immigrants and a blue-collar family. You’d grown up in a house full of love and kindness and acceptance, he had not. You’d ended your teenage years going to college and then travelling and ending up here, where you chose to stay and work and travel and live a life that Steve could only dream of, his own had never been his own and never would be.

You had dreams and hopes, little things like aspirations. He didn’t.

Steve’s life was dictated by things like duty and obligations, expectations. Yours was not.

Maybe that was why he’d been so drawn to you?

Compared to all the royals around Europe and titled individuals, politicians, even old families, none of them interested him even a fraction of the amount that you interested him. To Steve you were exotic. You were a fascinating creature who might as well have come from Mars.

He couldn’t even say what it was or why.

For so long it had felt right to be alone. Considering the blood of monsters ran through his veins, Steve had been uninterested in any sort of companionship more than a brief encounter at a private location.

For Christ’s sake, he refused to sleep in the bedroom that his father had slept in.

Upon assuming the throne, he’d selected to take up older quarters in an unused part of the palace living complex. As if to ensure he was as far away from the rooms that his father and grandfather and great-grandfather had slept. Choosing to sleep in a bed untainted by any of those men, stored from when his land was ruled by an emperor. Hoping with the hopes of a young king that it would save him from their madness.

Beside him, you slept so peacefully, trustingly.

Steve had never brought anyone into his private apartment. Nor had his bed seen any carnal action since it’d gone into storage. Until you. He’d simply never been so inclined.

A rough sound from the growth on his cheek rubbing against his pillow. A pleasant reminder of that night that felt so long ago, yet also like only yesterday.

He’d had a beard back then he remembered.

A full bushy one.

One that had made you laugh softly at, roll your eyes and still manage to pull off an acceptable bow when you greeted him that late night.

“They beat Canada then Your Majesty?” You had inquired with good nature, setting down a whole stack of papers and folders onto the very modern conference table in a big room that could fit two dozen, more if the people were standing.

He’d beamed.

Steve remembered he’d been in a particularly good mood that night. Even if he was working late on the education push into the outer regions of his kingdom. A good amount was still very rural, many simple villages that lived as they had fifty or more years ago. Many parts of his kingdom were still deeply rooted in the past.

“Indeed. Eleven to four.”

He was beaming. Beaming! You were pretty sure you could see molars. It made you shake your head and begin to sort out all your work into piles to go over. Not that you’d ever admit to secretly being caught up in the hype of the team being so close to gold at the Winter Olympics. “So then the beard stays?”

“You of all people,” he admonished, coming over to help you. Picking up the well-marked up maps you’d spent hours annotating.

Making you roll your eyes.

On he went though, obviously needing to drive home the seriousness of this matter. “The beard stays until we win gold. Next we play Norway. I don’t think it needs to be said that we cannot risk it.”

He was serious. Really serious. If that full glorious beard was any indication.

More focused on the organizing task yourself.

Sorting your work by region, pile by pile, each had taken much work and effort and negotiation, endless phone calls and trips and emails to each area to get them to work not only with you, but one another. It was like herding cats. It had taken you months to get this all sorted out for Steve to see. His ideas weren’t even ready to be implemented. This was just the pre-gaming, the leadup, the work in preparation. You weren’t even on Step One. You were on Step Zero.

“Now that I know, I’ll be sure to grow a beard next Winter Olympics.”

And then you were rewarded with a rich hearty laugh from your king.

Well not your king, as you weren’t a citizen of this country. But you still liked to think of him as your king.

Watching you sleep was something he’d never tire of. Never get enough of. It was a luxury that he didn’t realize he wanted day in out.

The ability to wake up with you tangled up in blankets. Curled back against his front. Hogging pillows as you did. Allowing Steve to run his fingers up and down your bare thigh, along the curves of your body. Letting him lean forward to press his lips to your shoulder and see the peaceful rest of your face in his slowly lightening bedroom. Every last inch of you here for him.

Hungry.

That was what it was, he was hungry for you. Like a big bear that woke from hibernation after a long winter. At times he felt such a way. Never having felt this way about anyone prior.

In his own time, he slipped his fingers down along the round of your ass underneath the flesh of your hip. Warm. Soft. Smooth. Neither of you had left the bed since the late night bath in his tub.

Further down Steve allowed his fingers to trail.

Memorizing every last second to get him through his day. From how you felt pressed against the front of him, how your back moved against his chest with every steady breath you took. The way your legs tangled in his buttery sheets with his own, how the soft cheeks of your bottom pressed against his alert groin.

Most definitely though, how your skin tasted and felt beneath his mouth. Smelling like yourself from all your favorite bath products kept in his bathroom.

You’d smelled so good that night too.

You always smelled good.

It was something that he had noticed but hadn’t given any real thought to.

It seemed to be a mix of perfume and body lotion or cream. Cause Steve found the flowery smell would linger after you walked by in the way that perfume did, infusing the air and making his brain scream out that you were near. But also, when you shook his hand, it always had that sweet fresh clean smell afterwards.

Now, whenever Steve smelled it, all he could think about was you.

Those smells danced around him. Making the late hour bearable. Making the fact that the offices were empty but for the two of you, when you both should have been home in bed, not matter.

“Ok…” you were talking to him, pointing out places on the massive map that was his nation. Arms crossed. Legs spread. Standing beside you as you informed him with tones that indicated your happiness, your displeasure as well as your utter irritation. “…so I managed to get in touch with every Education Department in all nine of your territories.”

Though you were not looking at him, Steve nodded, laser focused on this project he’d tasked you with months ago.

“All of the department heads are on board with your desired overhaul to completely modernize the entire system. Unfortunately, they told me that I had to call all the district heads for all forty-six provinces to get their agreed participation too.”

Your tone went from pleased with yourself then skeptical and then annoyed.

You turned your head to look at him. “Which is what I spent the last three months doing. It was something of a thing.”

Steve could only imagine.

He was quiet though so you could go on. More than pleased with how well you worked in this position. He’d originally been skeptical with your being a foreigner. How dedicated would you be to a job in a country that was not your own? One hundred percent as it turned out.

Your hands flattened out dramatically on the table. Outrage surged from you. “I’m still waiting on two appointees because their predecessors apparently died during harvest season and no one could be bothered to replace the position. I literally had to fly out to the outer reaches of civilization to find this out. Cause all the government offices are closed during harvest season, fyi. But they’re literally filling the positions now.”

Such was the challenge of having a large kingdom with one foot in the future and one in the past. Such things led to the difficultly of keeping a Chief of Staff.

Steve’s previous Chief of Staff had come highly recommended and lasted a little over a month.

Whether it was from a lack of dedication, the obvious frustrations of the job or maybe he simply had not wanted to jump on a plane and fly six hours then ride by car five hours to remote areas in order to complete his work. Steve could not be sure. All he knew for sure was he’d keep you as long as humanly possible.

In his eyes, you were a saint.

“What’s with the question mark?”

Making you look to see which question mark you’d marked on the map full of stickers and marks and tabs. Hours had been spent working on the damn thing.

Seeing which question mark in question made your nose scrunch. “Oh…them, they refuse to even answer my calls until they are allowed to take their traditional name for their province. Which is way above my pay grade. Someone else is going to have to deal with them. I tried.”

Ah, Steve nodded, that was far from surprising. The far outer regions were notoriously independent or rebellious, depending on your stance.

He would deal with them accordingly. Not how his father did, but in his own way.

Steve’s attention was drawn to two nearby provinces. Each had a frowny face sticker. Without asking, he merely pointed.

A noise of pure disgusted frustration came from deep in your throat. Making you stand and look to him, brandishing your hands in all directions. “I tried my best with them. I really did. Both of those provinces absolutely refuse to take part in anything if the other is involved. Apparently, they’re still salty at one another over something that happened in fourteen-seventy-three and refer to me as the foreign she-devil. So…good luck with them Your Majesty.”

Soundly you slept.

Comfortable. Safe. At peace.

Making him feel like a true man. A provider able to care for you, protect you, satisfy you. As if he were stripped down to what nature intended. Instead of what society had dictated for you both.

Reaching down to that heavenly place between the V in your thighs, Steve pushed his fingers further to find your softness slippery, your skin slick with viscous arousal. In pushing his finger up further, running it around the edge of your slit to where the gateway to your body was hidden, he found you heavily aroused. Coating his fingers with a thick fluid that promised you would be able to take him now. Oozing into the cervices between his fingers and smearing thickly down his palm and over the back of his hand.

Unable to help himself, he brought his hand out from between your legs in order to look at your arousal. Merely the sight made his balls clench in eager anticipation. Tasting the bodily excretions had his hips moving against yours on their own.

A noise came from you. Though you were far from waking. Always one to enjoy your sleep.

On his tongue you were heady, ripe. Tasting like sin. Steve licked his fingers. Eyes closed so he could savor the taste, how you clung to his tongue and were thick, like a burst of brandy swirling with his saliva.

Awakened now from his deep sleep. Ravenous like a beast of the forest. He pressed a lingering kiss to your shoulder. Making you mumble. Making you wiggle in your sleep, causing you to reach your arm out for a pillow to pull close. Hooking your leg up higher too. Becoming more comfortable in the bed in addition to opening yourself up more to your king. As if your body had connected to his on a level your mind was unaware and encouraged him to take you.

Down he peered. Strands of hair fell across his forehead at the harsh angle. A soft lightening of the sun through drapes he never closed last night allowed the sight of moisture. Folds of bare skin sheened up at him. Tempting him with that webbing of goo that promised him you were ready.

Taking himself in hand, he caught sight of your name curled over his side. Reminding him of your absolute possession over him. Sending his hand low to pull his foreskin back in order to feed this hunger of you that consumed him.

Your signature was all swoops and swirls.

Recognizable above anyone else’s writing he came across on a daily basis.

All over paper and on the maps. In little corners. Highlighted. In different color pens. On stickie notes. Written on napkins or on the back of random pieces of paper.

At the time, he’d had no idea how far gone he really was.

Not even when he watched you take note after note with a purple inked pen, your hand flowing across paper like a swimmer cutting through the water. Taking down his every word, every command.

A incredibly distinctive feeling of being full woke you up from your glorious sleep, in a very singular sort of way that could be from only one thing. Only one thing on earth felt like that when waking you up.

Pulling you out of a warm blissful sleep only to wake you with the exquisite feeling of being stretched open, pushed into, filled up. Making your fingers clench bedding or pillows or whatever they could grab.

A low breathy moan came from you in the time between you were woken and awake, your face burrowing in a pillow was followed by a soft profanity. Weight slowly covered you. Weight pinned you down to the bed a little at a time. Skin and sheets and soft dustings of hair rubbed against you.

Only when you had fully woken did you feel pubes brush against your cheeks. A light tap of scrotum bumped you too.

Long arms wrapped around you. Wet lips mouthed along the curve of your neck.

This was a far superior way to wake up. Compared to your apartment, in bed alone, to your neighbors loud shrilling alarm clock through your paper-thin wall.

Groaning out at the feel of His Majesty’s cock stuffed safely up in your secret garden. You found yourself whining at Steve at whatever time it was in the early morning. “…fuuuuck…what’d I say about doing that…” A swivel, nay, a swivel with a pop of his pelvis followed, making you see stars, gasp deeply as if you’d been stabbed in the lungs and then add on for God and Country. “…My King…shit, My King…oh shit, My King.”

Though it may have been said in jest, his tone was hot enough to scald. “If memory serves me correctly…” another deep push of thick hips shoved you forward into the pillows. “…you say, not in my ass unless I’m awake.”

Stars.

So many bright and colorful stars.

Mmm.

Yes, that was something you had told him on many occasions and it still held very true. If Steve was going to put anything in your ass, forget that thing he claimed was a dick, you needed to be fully awake so you could both physically and emotionally prepare yourself.

Nothing at all could have prepared you for the drastic turn your life was about to take that night.

Nothing.

Everything had been so normal. It was so regular. Like many a long night working late hours at the palace before. Hours had been spent going over all your hard work contacting each and every head in each education department per province, as well as per territory. In addition to the national department of education, preparing to prep them for what the king wanted.

Like any other late night, Steve helped you put all of your paperwork back in the correct order you had it in. Like every other time, he requested a palace car take you to your apartment. Granted the apartment you shared with your best friend was walking distance away. It was late and simply not safe and you found were touched that Steve would think about your well-being.

For a king, he wasn’t that bad. When it was the two of you anyway.

Looks aside, which he had in spades, he could be very funny in a sarcastic sort of way. He was very well read and intelligent, quick on his feet. Although people seemed to think of him a certain type of way based on his father and his own kingship at a young age, when he really was his own person.

You’d noticed he had a definite interest in the classical masters and had on rare occasion seen him sketch out something on a flight or during a less than stimulating event. He had an artistic ability that would never come to anything due to his role.

His strong sense of duty paired with a disgusting moral obligation pretty much guaranteed his life would be spent in service to his country. Period.

You could see why people thought he was hot. The man had been blessed by the genetic gods. Plus he was a king. Who didn’t grow up dreaming about being a princess? Or think about a literal Prince Charming from fairy tales?

Having now had the benefit of working in a real life palace. You knew the realities of that fantasy.

You had two pages of notes that could attest to the reality of your childhood Disney Princess movies.

Reality was always so different.

Not for the first time, you found yourself repeating yourself. “…and let me say one more time. Thank you so much for talking with my parents. I know it was only ten minutes, but, I know how busy you are and it just completely topped off their visit. My mother has been telling everyone about how she met the king. You even have my father cheering for the hockey team.”

A smile came over Steve’s face that was real.

It wasn’t one of his practiced smiles. It was an actual smile. You could tell because it reached his eyes.

“Well,” Steve answered you with a shrug, sounding genuinely pleased even if he also sounded tired and like he wanted nothing more than to go off to his living quarters in the palace and crash into bed, before he had to get up to start a new day. Helping you stack the last of your papers up. “Anything to convert a soul to hockey. Technically, it is his team too.” And because he could not help himself, Steve added on, “Even if his grandparents fled from here for a cushy life in the west.”

Up your hand flew to your chest.

Your jaw dropped in mock pain. “Ouch, Sir! That one was painful.”

His smile grew at your over-the-top reaction.

Still though, he dipped his head and you noticed there was a little blush on his cheeks above where that magnificent beard grew. Chagrined, he quickly followed up with, “I apologize. That was a cheap shot.”

In a physical sort of way that his people were known to interact, personal space be damned, Steve reached over to touch your arm apologetically. Not something he did frequently. Although he had done it a handful of times. The press of his mouth to your cheek was new. The little kiss was brand new. Steve’s lips were gentle on your skin. His beard tickled your face.

Never in your life had your heart pounded as violently in your chest as it did at that gesture. Quickly, your head turned. Though you did not move back or say anything. Instead, you found yourself staring at Steve. Looking into those pools of blue that were looking at you with the same amount of surprise that you felt. His lips were right there, right there.

Blood roared in your ears, your heart pounded faster and faster and faster.

He kissed you.

Did he really though?

Was it a kiss or was it a kiss?

For a moment in time, you leaned in. Leaned closer. Leaned till you almost touched him because that was what your body wanted to do. Until you remembered that Steve was a king. A KING. Remembering that made your head command your body to lean backwards a bit. Allowing you to see that he had leant in to meet you.

He’d leaned closer to kiss you.

What were you doing? What in the hell were you doing? You had no business doing this, no business at all messing around with Steve.

Fingers moved along your arm, tracing up the back of it softly. That simple touch made goosebumps break out over your skin. It made your breath hitch. Your hands began to shake so you grabbed the fabric of your skirt.

However, you made no move to step away from Steve. Nor did he make any sort of move to step away from you.

Another attempt at a kiss was not made.

Fingers touched your face instead. Steve was close enough to you that you felt his legs brush yours. You felt his breath against your face. Fingertips ran across the swell of your cheekbone, down over your lips, tracing the bridge of your nose in what felt like a desire to memorize your face.

Steve was gentle. His fingertips felt like feathers on your skin. He made you shake like a leaf in terror because you wanted him to touch you more. You wanted to be touched. You wanted to feel his hands on you and the soft glide of his thumb along the line of your jaw was painfully insufficient.

Without thinking, you reached up with your hands until you remembered that he was the king.

Were you allowed to touch the king? You weren’t sure. He was touching you and it was fabulous but were you allowed to do the same? You wanted to. You so deeply wanted to. You just were not sure what was allowed in this situation. It had not exactly been covered in the Royal Protocol Guidebook you had.

Then came Steve’s voice. Harsh. Gravelly. Desperate.

“Touch me. It’s ok. I want you to.”

For only a heartbeat or two you remained still, observing him, making sure. Only after that did you reach up with your hands to cover his wrists. Rub along the fabric of his button-up shirt. In doing so, you not only felt the strength in his well-muscled wrists, or how warm the silky fabric was, but, you could feel him tremble. He was shaking about as much as you were.

A rush of air surged from his lungs as if you had burnt him.

Curious, you turned your head so you could place a single kiss on the inside of his hand touching your face, right at the base of his thumb. In doing so, you ripped a noise from deep within him. A noise that was both pained while also infused with wanting.

“This is ok?”

“Yes,” he croaked out, as if he were terrified you would stop.

Never would you have ever imagined he would be so responsive. Almost touch starved it felt.

Sometimes, Steve still felt as if he were a little touch starved to you. Sometimes it felt like he’d gone his entire life without having that physical connection between two people. As complicated of a man as he was with as complicated of a life as he had, you at times forgot that he was still a human being with human being needs that were essential to thriving.

And it wasn’t like you were complaining.

Far from it.

Not after the orgasm you just had, not from on top of him either. Lounged across the front of him. Loose limbed. Languid down to your marrow. Peppering the damp skin of his neck with slow wet kisses and scrapes of teeth. Long drags of your tongue collected drops of salt that tasted of him. Lazily. Heart to heart. Stomach to stomach.

There really were worse ways to wake up.

Like, for instance, in your apartment taking cold showers cause the building’s water heater was ancient. That wasn’t fun at all and usually had you shivering and hurrying through an icy shower. Straight up not a good time.

This? This was soooo much better.

Feeling Steve’s long legs wrapped up in your own, paired with his softening member filling you by virtue of sheer size not letting himself just pop out…this was a much better way to wake up. Far superior in every way.

Not that you were willing to waste precious time like this luxuriating in post-coital bliss. No, no. A burning question was hot on your mind that kept popping up after last night. After all, you were a modern woman and this was a serious relationship. You had every right to ask this question at any time you wanted. Even now. As your boyfriend, the king, fondled your breasts in his hands with such intensity that you would have thought he’d just broken out of Alcatraz after a decade of no nookie. Not that you were in the least bit complaining. Not one bit.

“Am I going to have to quit my job?”

It was something of a concern.

You loved your job. You loved working with Steve. You loved your life as it was and a big part of you suspected becoming queen would mean big changes.

Not that you lifted your head from his neck, or ceased your trek down towards his collarbone. Trail of your kisses never slowing or stopping. No hint of any sort of disruption came. Not for a moment or two. Not till your ravenous boyfriend squeezed your breasts possessively. Thumbed your nipples and finally opened his eyes, as if it were the biggest chore on earth.

His voice was rough. His tone felt like hot gooey honey that just got everywhere. “No…not yet…”

Leading you to make a noise. A pop followed when your mouth left the dark spot you’d been sucking on nearly at his collarbone. What with your name already etched on him. What else could you leave in a display of ownership over him? “Nothing else to add My King?” For added emphasis, perhaps you gave you vaginal muscles a clench knowing what that did to him.

A grunt came from beneath you.

Wrapped up in yours, Steve’s legs clenched in response to what you did. White teeth sank into his upper lip and you absolutely thrived at the sight and feel of him arching up against you, shifting around beneath you at the way your body squeezed him.

Those hands left your breasts only to reach down, run over your waist as they had so many times before, leading you to grab them. Snatch then right up. Press them down into the mattress over Steve’s head. Since the man was far larger than you, this sent you leaning downwards and ever closer to his face. “Steve? I asked you a question.”

How easy it would have been for him to get free. Yet, he seemed content where he found himself. Still wedged within you. Warm in bed. Body a sea of a complex cocktail of chemicals after physically releasing into you. A far better way to wake up than alone in a massive bed. Or worse, to his mother jabbing at him to urgently tell him something that was not urgent at all.

Feeling your breasts press against his chest. Lightly brushing over his skin, your nipples little points that sparked a definite interest in his dick.

God did he want you to be his queen.

“Not yet,” Steve ground out, nearly close to being overwhelmed by you. Each and every word was enunciated to utter perfection, as if it took all of his concentration and effort to get them out. “I’ll have the palace leave your name out of the official statement today. We can go slow. Ease you into things…ease you out of your job…” and to reward him for such a thoughtful statement, you clenched around him once more.

However, it seemed, there was more and even though his eyes rolled up into his head at the feel of your core squeezing his not entirely soft organ, he pushed on with the determination of his ancestors. Grunting. Arching back into the bed as the pillows had all wound up on the floor. Perfect teeth clenched together. “M-my people…will…love you…too.”

So, it was entirely possible, that you were feeling all kinds of powerful watching him writhe beneath you. Knowing exactly what sort of repercussions this could have to your morning. Which was still progressing on time. It was entirely possible that you may have intentionally pushed your own pelvis against his to reseat yourself.

“Oh yeah? How can you be so sure? You saw what happened with those two over in England. And that prince isn’t even next in line to the throne.”

Perhaps it was the seriousness of the direction in which your conversation had taken, Steve remained beneath you. Taking no action, even though you could quite literally feel his dick grow more interested in what your hips were doing.

A panted out, “…fuck…” escaped from him, before he opened his eyes to look at you seriously, if not also a little heatedly. “Quit obsessing over them. The King of Jordan married for love. Queen Rania was a commoner. If you must, focus on them.”

Sudden movement found you falling off Steve and onto the bed, shoved onto your back and in a flash, he was on top of you again. Over you. Hovering. Though he’d escaped out of your body, you could feel the king’s most delicious semi, slick from your previous copulation, squish between you both.

Admitting on an exhale, “Forgot about them.”

“Everyone does.” He agreed, surveying down, taking in the sight of you. “My country appreciates you. They’re fond of you. You’re in all the papers and they’ve given you a nickname.”

And that. That. Nearly killed the mood.

It sent your eyebrows together dubiously so.

Everytime you were in the press it was when your skirt had been blown up on a windy day, or if you’d accidentally gotten food on your shirt. Or that time a baby goat pooped on your shoes. Or when you’d tripped and fallen off a dock into a lake. Who could forget that time you’d accidentally called the Prime Minister of Canada a ‘moose fucking cannibal’ when you’d still been getting the hang of the language, your first year on the job?

You’d been affectionately dubbed, ‘the King’s Foreign Devil’ and it had stuck.

Hell, you still got asked about your thoughts on the Canadian Prime Minister whenever a member of the press was around.

“Most the time, you have a higher approval rating than I do,” he added. Much to the consternation of Maria Hill in PR. “Trust me. There is nothing my country loves more than a hard-working loyal servant of the people who talks shit about western leaders.”

Mood totally killed, you seethed and not for the first time, “That was an accident! I was trying to call him Canada��s Disney Prince.”

***

The note had been hand delivered to the palace and was now crumbled into a ball in the Queen Mother’s bedroom as she stormed off, once more, that early morning in a fury of rose satin and silk. Her perfume clouded around her, drifting behind her, much like the wake of a boat cutting through the water.

Thick carpets silenced her heels. Doors opened for her as she neared them, allowing her to not need to slow her step even for a second. Not a single moment wasted as she made her way through the private living quarters of the palace.

Down hallways and around corners, over to the rooms that her grown son had selected as his own.

It would have been so much easier if he would have just taken the rooms that his father had lived in.

Although, with the horrific memories attached to those rooms, how could she blame him when he elected not to? She had her own private rooms. The dead kings rooms were locked up tight and still not used. Abandoned like so much he’d done, started and accomplished in his life.

Upon coming to her only child’s rooms, those doors were held open for her and on she pressed on. Sailing through his rooms, one after another, until she got closer to his bedroom and could hear his shower which was the direction she headed.

A brief glance was made at the mess that was his bed.

A roll of her eyes was followed by a shake of her head.

Some things males never grew out of it seemed.

“Steven!” She called out in warning, should he be in the bathroom about to come out in the nude. Which was the last thing she wanted to see.

Not only was his bed a mess but his clothes from yesterday were all over the floor.

She had every intention of telling him that he needed to straighten up this mess before the cleaning staff came in his room. The last thing she wanted was for them to think he was messy and then tell their families and friends when they went home that the king had a messy bedroom and word would get out that her son was a slob. Ugh. No. She’d make sure that he straightened up.

Speaking of the devil.

As his shower ran, Steve peered out of the bathroom with a wet head. A midnight blue towel was wrapped around his waist. A toothbrush was in his hand. To Sarah, it was very clear that her grown son had not shaved yet either.

Seeing him in such a state that morning along with his messy room and the fact the shower was going wasting water. It did not make her mood any more agreeable.

Though her son was taller than her and considerably more muscular, she never feared him.

She knew he would never hurt her like his father had so many times. Towards the end, Steve had even defended her from his father’s physical attacks. Those days. They had been dark. Horrible. Terrible. When she noticed that her husband had begun to carry a knife to protect himself from his son. Well. What was she supposed to do?

Attacking her was one thing. Being violent towards her was one thing. There were some things that she learned to tolerate. It was unescapable. Their son though. To take a knife to their son? Her son? Sarah would never allow such a thing.

She was queen at the time.

It was not so difficult to get the drug that she put in her husband’s evening nightcap. She’d used all of it. Thrown the vial away the next day when she went to rouse the king as she did every morning, only to find him dead in his chair. Fireplace having long gone out. Slumped down. Cold. The coroner had said it was a heart attack. Exactly as she’d been told the drug would work. He’d been buried with no one the wiser. Not even Steve.

“Yes mother?”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “You are not growing another beard. Last time you looked like some man that lives up in the mountains in a tiny shack.”

Just as her own father once did, Steve’s eyebrows rose in surprise and question.

No. That was not why she was here.

Sarah had a higher calling that morning and straightening her slim shoulders, she so informed him. “Hope and Janet are here in the city. They’ve come for a surprise visit and will arrive at the palace within the hour.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed at her in response to her information.

It was horrifying. It was outrageous. It was not what he wanted to hear that morning one bit. Not at all. Not one single bit.

Hope and Janet?

Those were two names he never wanted to hear with the additional words being, ‘on their way’. No. Just no.

All he could say that was remotely civil, after what the then Princess Hope van Dyne had done, came out in something of a tone. “I don’t want to see either of them. If you want to see them, that’s your choice. Keep them away from me.”

Considering what the now Duchess Hope had spewed to every reporter, journalist and whomever with a platform…Sarah was a little surprised that Steve was being so kind.

She’d expected a bit more of a reaction from her son.

Could she be holding a bigger grudge against her one-time closest friend’s daughter? After what had happened, Queen Janet van Dyne had become somewhat distant. Which was not surprising. Hope had not broken the engagement gracefully. Nor had she been anything less than opinionated afterwards.

“I suspect she is in trouble,” Sarah confessed. “Why else would they come here? Considering everything that Hope has said over the years.”

Steam continued to seep through the cracked door.

Sarah was about to say something about the shower. Steve was wasting a considerable amount of hot water. She herself was leading the Go Green Initiative in the country and as she stated constantly, it all began at home.

“Mother, don’t take this the wrong way, but, I wouldn’t shit in Hope’s mouth if she was starving.”

Ah.

Perhaps she’d been too quick to judge Steve’s current opinion on the wayward duchess?

Pondering his statement, Sarah found herself looking for any way to come back with a counter when she noticed that the shower turned off. Which was odd. Shower’s didn’t turn themselves off.

What was even more peculiar, Steve reached back behind himself to shut his bathroom door.

It clicked.

Like a light going off.

How could she not have noticed? How could it not have been obvious?

Blue eyes that were a little softer than her son’s narrowed. “You aren’t alone.”

Silence.

Quiet.

Her pink lips opened in surprised. A question hovered on her tongue.

“No mother.”

“But…”

“Mother,” he implored as only a son could. “Not now. She would not want the first time she officially meets you to be when you’re dressed for the day and she is not.”

And though her son’s words were true. They were right. They were exactly what she would have wanted him to say and because she had raised him well, she was even proud that he had made such a quick decision. It wasn’t fair.

Sarah wanted to find out who you were. She wanted to meet the woman that her son was involved with. Was that so wrong? Sarah wanted to meet the woman that her son was considering marrying. There was so much she wanted to say to you, so much to teach you, so much she wanted to learn about you. Perhaps her desperation showed because her son reached out to place a hand on her elbow.

“If you can chase Hope and Janet away, we could have lunch together. The three of us. If not, dinner? Or even tomorrow. I’m not doing anything with Hope under this roof. Not after she referred to our country as a third world plus hellhole full of war criminals and superstitious backwoods heathens.”

Ah, so he did remember.

Those words had been seared into her memory as well. Sometimes Sarah wondered, as Steve had never really given much indication that he cared one way or the other what Hope had said. It was only after she began to speak unflatteringly about their people that he grew irritated, much like herself.

Although, what irritated Sarah more, was the quiet that came from the royal house of van Dyne and Pym a few countries over. Never once had Janet spoke up. Never had Janet said anything about her daughters outrageous remarks or behavior. Nor had she apologized.

Knowing her son, Sarah knew that he would never court anyone who was not kind or compassionate. Steve would never pick a Hope as his queen.

Up came a hand that bore a lovely ring decorated with fresh water pearls from their own waters. “I’ll have them gone before lunch and then we will all sit down together so I can finally meet her.”

[minaslittleone]

IKEA Shopping Headcannons

Full credit once again to my partner in crime @stayevildarling Coming up with these with you is my favourite thing ever 😍

Billie Dean Howard: Fully intent on turning your appartment into a spa. Anything fancy vaguely bathroom related and she's buying it. Surely must have every colour towel set they sell by now. Queen of bath caddies. Always pays extra for assembly and installation.

Lana Winters: Office knickknacks & desk storage! Does she need those novelty paperclips? Probably not, but she's sure as hell not putting them back. Almost buys a new office chair every time you visit. Extensive collection of cute pens.

Cordelia Goode: Spends 90% of her time healing the poor neglected plants. Refuses to leave until they are all better. If she can't fix them they're coming home with her. Inevitably forgets what she actually came for because she gets so distracted with things that everyone else will like.

Bette & Dot Tattler: Cute kitchen gadgets! Wannabe domestic Goddesses. Enough bakeware to to rival Martha Stewart but no idea how to use any of it. It looks damn pretty on the shelf though.

Sally McKenna: Absolute menace, has been banned from several stores. Especially after the time she hid in the ballpit until after closing and filmed TikToks in the empty store all night. Also loves setting everything in the lighting department to Rave Mode. Never buys any homewares but always leaves with a massive bag full of weird Swedish food.

Audrey Tindall: No matter how closely you keep an eye on her, always manages to get lost. By your side one second and then she gets distracted by something shiny and *poof* she's gone. Have had to make several embarassing concierge announcements to find her. Contemplating a child leash for future trips.

Ally Mayfair-Richards: Goes for practical items but spends most of her time in the kids section being distracted by all the cute things she could buy for Ozzie. Soft toys, adorable little bed spreads, slightly odd shaped night lights - she's buying it all. Honestly Ozzie's room now looks like a page out of an IKEA catalogue.

Wilhemina Venable: Being seen in IKEA is completely beneath her but can't say no to you when you give her the 🥺 eyes. Tries to hide the way she is always drawn to the home decor section (especially anything purple). Secretly loves the slightly odd abstract ornaments and especially drawn to the candles. Refuses to buy anything for herself though so you have to sneak it into the basket when she isn't looking.

Mildred Ratched: Organisation Queen! Matching storage boxes, label makers, plastic bins - she somehow never manages to leave without a few more. Every item in your house now has its own designated, labelled spot. Especially fond of pantry organisation. Everything item of food has now been decanted into mason jars with cute chalk label stickers.

As always GIF credits to all of these amazing people: @tayces @ungifable @fishragnarsson @regina-king @grilledcheeseandguavajelly @thatsmypeach

[real-sotenbori-hours]

Hello there 💖 Love your writing and just finished yakuza 0, and if you're up for it, I'm in the mood for something different. I love Majima, but I'm craving drama atm. What if he and his badass beauty of a s/o are getting it on and he calls Makoto's name by mistake? New bae is sweet, makes his lunches, but is NO Makoto! How shook is she? Can the couple reconcile or is that the deal breaker?

This is a terrific prompt... I’ve been dealing with some roller coaster emotions as of late so I appreciate a drama req. Pls be patient and I’d love to write this. TYSM for requesting <3

Mistaken Makoto

Reader is Female

Mild smut, angst, mentions of trauma

***WARNING: YAKUZA 0 SPOILERS***

What a day. If she didn't stay and help up, who would?It had been this way all week, and Y/N had only realized how emotionally and physically drained she truly was at the end of it all, which couldn't be more ideal because nothing is worse than realizing how thanklessly overworked one is in the very midst of the issue itself. Thankfully she now had a couple of days off to decompress and relax and the first things on her mind were a quick snack, a cup of tea and hopefully some pleasures of the flesh with her all too irresistible man. She desperately needed some bliss to tear her from her incredibly demanding lack of work/life balance. Good thing her man was more than understanding.

They didn't reside together, but Majima's flat was a lot closer (and fancier) than her place, so she typically crashed there in the evenings especially after late work days. Her apartment was more of a storage unit for her belongings and less urgently needed clothes as she usually spent her nights at his place. Though he'd been pushing the idea of moving in together for months, it was just so much work to pack her stuff and close out her lease and with her long hours as of late, she didn't have the energy to seal this lingering loose end. She planned on it, but something else held her back from making it official. She hadn't even had the time to analyze her trepidation, it was just there, and something far more easily avoided. Money wasn't an issue, so she couldn't complain. She'd get around to it soon enough.

It was a damp, sultry evening... an hours' long rain had set a sexy mist in the air and with the low lights of Kamurocho illuminating her quick and safe walk home, she felt like a seductive evening at home was just what the doctor ordered. Majima had texted her only a couple hours prior, hinting at the same theme as he'd just settled some big work things and wanted to relax. He'd offered a lovely night on the town but because Y/N was stuck at work just a little later than usual, a hot night at home seemed like the move. He'd warned that he was settling in for a nap, and to wake him when she arrived.

Her plan was to forego the food and tea, strip down and slip into bed with him... he loved being awakened by her eager warmth.

After locking the door, she dropped her coat and shimmied out of each of her professional garments, slowly sauntering into the bedroom from which only a dim light from the bathroom shone due to the door being slightly ajar.

What a marvel --- his back was to her, his irezumi slightly visible in the dim light and partial obscurity of blanket. No matter how many times she'd seen it wet, dry, slightly irritated from her nails raking its flesh, it still made her skin tingle. She loved Majima Goro through and through and was willing to do anything for him. He treated her like a Queen and still offered her the world if she needed anything. He respected her independence, always offered to support her if she so desired, and was in turn endlessly grateful for her love and commitment to him. Many a time she wondered how in the fuck that she was The One to tame a yakuza boss... but she had. It was so natural and uncomplicated, she never batted an eye. It was sparks in the air the first time they met and every day and night since.

By the time she reached the bed, she was beautifully nude and ready. As much as she needed him and his attentions, she wanted to at least begin by lavishing him with attention while rousing him from his slumber. It drove him crazy.

After slipping beneath the linens, pressed against him, she kissed his shoulder, slowly and deliberately and then made her way down the back of his arm while slipping her hand along his back and over his hip, gripping the bone. He groaned, rolling on his back as she snuck up to his ear.

"Mmmm, I'm home...."

No further words necessary, he wrapped his arms around her as she straddled him, kissing and biting his lobe, down his neck, stopping to suck along his clavicle. His hands found their way to her hips as he gripped them and urged them to rock back and forth, but she wanted to prolong it. She needed to tease a little.

His eye remained closed, his breathing grew heavier as he gripped her hips hard enough to bruise. She adored it.

Leaning in to kiss his neck, she traveled up to his lips, leaving quick and desperate pecks along them before sinking herself on him. She rubbed his pecs delicately before leaning back and gripping his thighs, preparing to ride him. Just as she'd begun to establish a momentum, his hands gripped her forearms, his eye still shut tightly, lips parted. She raised herself, holding steady, slowly sinking down on him again just as he moaned... "I've missed you..."

She loved it when he mused in the throes of it. She bounced a few times, leaning in to kiss him again, harder, taking his bottom lip and kissing his chin... leaning in further to whisper, "I've missed you too..."

He slid his hand up the back of her neck, gripping and keeping her close. He turns his head, eye still screwed tightly shut as he kisses her cheek. She rolls her hips again. He rubs his lips along her lobe, sighing.

"Mmmm..."

She slams her hips harder, urging him to chase his release as he continues to keep her pinned to him, gritting his teeth. She loves his scent, his sweat, she wants to lap up every bit of it.

"....Mmmma..."

She bites at his clavicle, sucking tenderly as she continues pumping him with her entire body, just wanting to make him feel so good for no reason but adoration and appreciation for him... She just wants to hear him moan and watch his face contort as he fully surrenders.

She sits up, one last slam as she tightens herself around him. She descends, pulsing on him, cradling his head as his lips part one more time. He exhales, groaning.

"....Makoto...."

Screeeeeeeeeeech.

Y/N's heart, stomach, hell, fucking everything dropped. Without a second thought, she pressed her hands on each side of her along the bed and dismantled herself, rising.

His eye flew open, his head frantically turning, searching for his girlfriend, who was promptly planning on redressing and bolting before the tears could burst out of her into every direction. What the fuck?!

"Oy!" He shouts, sitting up, still registering.

She's already made it out of the bedroom, picking up every piece of her clothing trail and hurriedly putting them back on with the urgency of a burning building.

She's grabbing her bag off of the counter as he barges into the kitchen, wrapped in the linens. "OY! Where the hell ya think yer goin'?"

She takes a deep breath and turns around to face him, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I'm leaving. Fuck off."

"What in the hell for? What's the matter?!"

ARE YOU SERIOUS.

She steps forward and shoves him with a single, open hand. Bag still in her other hand. "FOR CALLING ME 'MAKOTO' WHILE I'M FUCKING ON TOP OF YOU. ARE YOU FUCKING OUT OF YOUR MIND?!"

He catches himself, grabbing the counter and throws his head in his other hand. "Jesus Christ, I'm a little drunk, babe. I'm sorry..."

"Yeah, great. Well, you can be sorry alone. I'm going home."

"Nah c'mon don't be like that, it was a mistake, I love ya and ya know that, don'tcha?"

"You know honestly, I'm not sure. If you're thinking of her while I'm giving it to you, giving you my fucking body, my affection, my time, I think the mistake is my being in this entire fucking equation. I must be insane. I knew there was a reason I wasn't ready to move out of my place yet...."

"Nah babe it's not like that, I swear. I'm really sorry, I know that didn't feel good but I was in such a deep sleep I really wasn't thinkin---"

"---ABOUT ME. You were thinking of another woman. While I'm here. Are you serious? Do you have any idea how much I love you, how you might as well have shoved your tanto straight into my chest? That would've felt better than to hear another woman's name come out of your fucking mouth..."

Majima realized this wasn't a conversation he could charm his way out of. All of the times he came home battered, bruised and bleeding? Yeah after a few minutes of patching, he could calm her down. All of the times he was stuck at the office late and hadn't eaten in hours, she'd bring him something home cooked, knowing full well that none of his favorite shops were open. She'd beg him to come and get some sleep but he'd assure her that he'd get it done and be fine. She'd take it all in stride, this was the man she loved, it was par for the course.

But being called another woman's name, one that held such a crushing significance in his life? Nah.

"...I'm leaving. I need space. Leave me alone for a few days." His eye flew open as he nearly tripped over the blanket, dashing to her and grabbing her arms.

He knelt, looking up at her pleadingly.

"Y/N, baby, please. Please. Yer everythin' ta me. Please don't go..."

She sighed, too tired to even fight the tears. She let them roll.

"I can't do this, Goro. Maybe you love me, but obviously I'm not everything to you. Maybe it's unfair for me to demand to be, but it's what you are to me, and I can't compromise. I won't find myself in another love in which my feelings aren't matched."

"They are matched, babe. Please just stay so we can talk about it. If ya don't wanna stay after that, fine, but please gimme a minute to explain..."

"Goro, what's there to explain? If she's still in such a dominant place in your mind, then what's left for me? I can't share your affection like that. This isn't gonna work. Am I supposed to get over it and hope it doesn't happen again? What do you take me for?"

He choked, taking a deep breath. He dropped the Kansai-ben.

He looked up at her slowly, his face changing, his voice low and serious."I cared a lot for her. I haven't spoken with her in almost 20 years. There is nothing there. Sometimes I'm plagued with nightmares from the events of those years. Between my captivity and the situation in which I met her. I wish her nothing but the best. I have moved on since then, clearly. She only means anything to me because she is a good person. I'm not in love with her, I'm in love with you, and only you."

Y/N swallowed hard, taking his words into consideration... soothed but still feeling an uneasiness.

"You said her name while you were balls deep inside me. How are you going to explain that away? Be fucking honest with me. You have one minute."

"Makoto and I were never physically intimate! She isn't an ex-girlfriend or former love or anything like that! It was an honest mistake, it had nothing to do with the fact that you and I were in the middle of it, okay? I was just waking up, babe..."

"You were conscious. You grabbed me, you kissed me..."

"My mind was still out of it. Come on, I'm telling you the truth. I love you, Y/N. I love you like crazy. Makoto has absolutely nothing to do with my life now. I was just having a fucked-up dream."

Y/N set her bag down and draped her arms around him lazily as he hugged her hips.

"Look, I don't know how much I ever told you about it but here's the brakes: I was told to kill her and if I did, I'd be let back into the family, which was all I wanted at the time. You know all about my Grand days and that tiny apartment and the fact that all I did was run a cabaret club and get followed everywhere I went and my direct boss at the time would just slap me around like a fucking puppy and throw wrenches in everything I did, right?"

She nodded.

"I was told that I'd be in good standing and that I'd get my life back if I did my first hit. I was supposed to take out some ruthless scumbag that trafficked women. It was a no-brainer. I hunt my target down only to find that this ruthless scumbag was a blind woman who had no idea why in the fuck anyone would be after her. You can only imagine my confusion and why I did not kill her. But I was then of course risking worse things than death by keeping her alive and hidden away, all the while lying to my boss. Once he wised up, he tried to kill me, her and the guy she worked for at the time who was a solid guy. I watched him die. I got roughed up time and again, had to find her, make sure they didn't kill her. She was totally blameless and a survivor of the trafficking itself. This woman went through so much and still never batted an eye at her poor hand of cards. Yes, I wound up caring for her very deeply and after all was said and done, I could've told her how I felt, maybe she felt the same, who knows. Instead, I wanted her to be happy and to have nothing to do with me... because at the time, I only created more and more enemies as I climbed the ladder and I knew I couldn't keep her safe forever. I knew that at that time in my life, I had to focus on where I was going, I couldn't drag an innocent person into my mess of a life just because I had feelings for her. I did what I thought was the right thing then and I stand by it now... and where I'm at now, finally, is a place in which I can finally be with the woman I love -- you -- and I don't have to keep you away. I'm not climbing anymore... I'm no longer a real target and neither is anyone close to me."

Y/N nodded again, feeling relieved... but sad. So sad. Sad for being angry at him and sad for his loss... she had no idea the extent of what Makoto was to him and had only assumed the usual out of fear of bringing up such a heavy conversation... but she was glad to finally have it all out in the open.

"Alright... I know I shouldn't ask this but I need to..."

"Anything, babe. What do you want to know?"

"Do you wish you had been with her anyway? I know comparing myself to her is nonsensical but---"

"---Could I love you like I did her?"

"Yes."

"...No. Because the way I felt for her is different. You have to understand, I had to fight dozens and I mean dozens of men to protect her. She kept getting nabbed, I'd have to fight my way through buildings full of armed men to get her out alive. She got shot and almost died. I thought she had at first. It looked grim. So I guess in a way, the way I felt for her then is that I just wanted to protect the only truly good person I ever knew in my life... at that point. How do I feel about her now? I just hope she's happy... and I believe she is."

"You said you haven't spoken to her in 20 years?"

"That's a half truth. When we went through all that shit, she was blind. She never knew what I looked like, she only knew my voice. Years later I ended up in Sotenbori tying up some loose ends that led me to her shop and she didn't realize it was me, telling a perfect stranger how she was happily married with a kid. I was glad to hear it, you know? That was it. I just hope her life now is great because the first half wasn't, you know what I mean? That's it."

Y/N closed her eyes tightly and breathed in slowly, trying to make sense of her emotional state.

"Goro-kun..."

He looked up for the first time in what felt like forever.

"Y/N-chan?"

She sighed once again and carded her fingers through his hair, tugging at the ends, trying to stifle a laugh. Though she was still mildly hurt, the burn of her fury had subsided... she was grateful to have gotten a full discourse out of him and now felt almost foolish for being so (understandably) upset. She all but worshiped this man... he has always been good to her, holding her up on a pedestal, treating her with the respect and care that one only does when they truly and deeply... love and care for another.

She realized it's not a competition, Makoto wasn't "some other woman" or even a threat to her... she was a member of his past, a traumatic and murky one at that. She realized in that moment that it's okay that Majima loved another woman (and more, of course) before her... look at him.

But in this moment for a time before and likely to come, Majima Goro is hers and only hers. He did the right and likely painful thing by scratching at the scab to let her in, to tell her what happened and how it applies to his life now... to give her a perspective on her importance to him now, in comparison to what he's endured. It's a scab because the events of his past never truly heal or leave his psyche... he's just learned to live with and in spite of them, in many thanks to her.

Her unconditional love keeps him grounded, her presence adds to his purpose and for her, the same.

She was indescribably appreciative that the gave her a part of him in his honesty... and she would never take it for granted again. Walking out the door in anger would be, in her eyes, taking it for granted.

He nuzzled his face against her stomach, cradling her hips, giving her all the time she needed to cycle through her thoughts and feelings. God, what a man.

She gripped his chin and pulled him up to his feet, slipping an arm around him, re-tucking the blanket around his hips.

"Let's go to sleep... and bring back the Kansai-ben. I miss it already."

He laughed his usual insane, multi-octave laugh and grabbed her face, kissing her lips, nose, cheek and forehead before ripping the blanket off of him, wrapping it around her and scooping her up, carrying her back to the bedroom.

[daraoakwise]

Uhura is our Queen! Continuing with episode 2x4, Mirror, Mirror. Another classic episode of Trek, a fantastic alternate-reality “what if?” and a great episode for Uhura.

We open on a planet with Kirk negotiating for mining rights. And hooray, Uhura is on the away team! We don’t see her doing much, but she is the only person holding anything. This is a delicate diplomatic mission. Maybe there are language and translation issues. I love the idea that she is there to make sure that the communication isn’t knotted up by a translation error.

The planetary leaders turn the Federation down, and Kirk accepts this. The away team beams back home, but there is a storm that interferes and they step off the transporter pad into a ship that is not quite their own. Uhura looks down at her suddenly barely-there uniform, her expressions and gestures clearly an unspoken “what the hell?” (And I know we are meant to be appreciating Kirk’s biceps or whatever but … whoa those abs, Nyota. We are looking respectfully.) She steps toward Scotty, the two of them trying rather unsuccessfully to wordlessly work this out.

She and Scotty look at one another, confused and worried as Spock calls up to the bridge to order preparations to destroy the planet. Then, as Spock tortures the transporter officer for his error, Uhura leans into Scott, hiding her face in his shoulder, upset and disturbed at both the torture and the fact that Spock is the one doing it. And if she isn’t actually touching Scotty she is definitely very close. Scotty half-turns toward her and looks down at her in concern.

Which … can we pause for a minute? This is the very next episode after Uhura was mind-wiped and Scotty died trying to save her. We are probably just a few weeks from that event. And I know that 60s TV didn’t follow up on these things, but that doesn’t stop us. There was serious trauma there, and recovery, for them both. The effects have got to still be lingering, even if they both have been getting appropriate mental health treatment; Uhura’s reaction to this violence—she can’t even look at it! is certainly suggestive to me that she is suffering from after-effects from the violence so recently inflicted on her.

And she leans into Scotty. That too is suggestive. At some point, I’m sure they let her see the bridge security footage, which was the first time she really realized the scope of what happened. And I imagine Uhura—equal parts grateful and pissed as hell—grabbed a bemused Scotty, shoved him into an empty storage closet, and shouted at him for being so reckless with his life. And for his part, he told her that dying wasn’t his intention (and besides, he got better) ….but he’d do it again. There is a change in their relationship, starting about here and moving forward into the movies and the almost-something that eventually develops between them in a decade or so. They stand closer. They talk more. I don’t read the two of them of being capable of (or compatible enough for) any sort of exclusive arrangement, but it is possible to read this as the start of an on-and-off, half-wistful, friends-with-benefits thing. At the very least, I see the relationship between these two intensifying considerably. And I think it flows from what happened with Nomad. Not everyone agrees with that, and there certainly isn’t anything written that way until the movies, but since we are picking apart brief scenes and micro-expressions, I choose to see something there.

The away team escapes into the hall, and both Scott and Uhura do an immediate “what the hell, Captain?!?” Kirk shushes them until they can reach sickbay. The four of them walk down the hall, Kirk doing his best to blend in as he is saluted. Once in sickbay they work out that they have arrived in an alternate universe. “Another Captain Kirk, another Doctor McCoy, another ….” Uhura cuts herself off before she can complete her thought; she was about to say another Uhura, and the thought clearly rocks her. Kirk send Scott out to do some sabotage to try to buy them some time on killing the planet below, and sends Uhura up to the bridge to see if there is any wiggle room in their orders from Starfleet. “Yes sir,” she says, her usual confident and competent self, and then suddenly she pauses.

It occurs to her that she is about to be alone against monsters. “Captain, I’m ….” she’s afraid, is the word she doesn’t say. Kirk sees it in her eyes, and reaches for her, his hands on her shoulders, and his confidence grounds her. (In a later episode, where she is also afraid, she’ll tell the Captain that his steady courage takes away her fear.) She always looks so young here. “Uhura, you’re the only one who can do it,” Kirk says gently, and assures her that he will be there soon. She “yes sirs,” and heads out.

She walks into the bridge and …. this isn’t a good place. Her friends are not her friends, and she can feel it. She sits down at her station, and a dangerous, scar-faced Sulu immediately heads over for some sexual harassment.

She slaps his hand away, and Sulu starts toward her in fury. Whatever was about to happen is interrupted by the Captain walking onto the bridge. As with Spock casually torturing a man, seeing Sulu like this is horrible (and Chekov, the would-be murderer in a few scenes.) Kirk swaggers onto the bridge, doing his best to play the brute, and demands communication status. Uhura loudly tells him there is no damage, and then more quietly tells him that their orders are to destroy the planet if the planet doesn’t comply. No wiggle room in the orders. She opens a channel to the planet where Kirk, although sounding like a hard-ass to our ears, offers the planet unprecedented time to reconsider their decision. Kirk tells Uhura to contact Scott and McCoy and send them to his quarters. A look flashes over her face—she wants to be there too. She does NOT want to be alone on the bridge, but it would be deeply strange for her to be there as well. Kirk gently shakes his head at her; she has to stay.

Uhura spends what has to have been an agonizing shift on the bridge until the Captain calls up. Scotty is going to be tapping into power, but Sulu can’t be allowed see it. They need a distraction, and Uhura knows what she need to do.

On Scott’s signal she summons her courage and then flirtatiously walks up to Sulu. He isn’t playing by the rules, she purrs at him; she was supposed to protest and then he was supposed to come back. She has her knife out, toying with it, but it is the smallest bit of protection in this very dangerous situation. Sulu pulls her in, groping her, head between his breasts. If this was a darker show he’d already have his pants unzipped. The heavy implication is that sexual violence is common on this awful ship. Uhura lets his groping continue, her eyes on the security board, until it reads clear, then backhands him hard. “I changed my mind, again,” she says. When Sulu comes for her she threatens him with her knife, and backs off the bridge, ordering a red shirt behind her to take over her station, which he immediately does (and the look on his face suggests he might be of Mirror Uhura’s henchmen.)

Earlier in the episode, back aboard our Enterprise, we saw a very brief glimpse of the Mirror Uhura, behind bars with the Mirror Kirk, Scott, and McCoy, gesturing and shouting at our Spock. Our Uhura here does a very good job at playing at what that woman is probably like, powerful and brutal in her own way. Uhura has looked down at the clothing she has been wearing, more sexually aggressive than any one else that we see. She’s been able to watch how people respond to her for a shift on the bridge. I suspect she knows exactly what that woman is like, the worst of herself. And to have to play that woman—and to do so only weeks after actually losing herself to a mind wipe—is really a worrisome thing. I’m concerned about the nightmares and sleepless nights that have certainly got to follow her after these compounding traumas.

Uhura calls down to Scott, all clear, and heads down to sickbay. But Spock is onto them, and there is a brawl that Uhura absolutely participates in, jumping in to give and take blows from the strong Vulcan. Quickly thinking, she grabs a … lamp? something .. and hands it to the Captain, who smashed it over Spock’s head. She looks on with some concern while McCoy treats the severely injured Spock. They finally make their way down to the transporter room, and the Captain is confronted by the Captain’s, uh, girlfriend, who wants to come. They can’t, and she whips out a phaser, pointing it at Kirk and Scott as if Uhura isn’t standing right behind her. And then Uhura, in a moment that I absolutely adore, jumps the woman and disarms her, taking her phaser and knife. It is glorious.

They finally beam home safely, and Uhura looks around the familiar transporter room, home, in sheer relief.

This is a fantastic episode in general, and a truly great Uhura episode. And then, after two of the best Uhura episodes, we don’t get any Uhura at all in the next two episodes, 2x5 The Apple and 2x6 The Doomsday Machine. And of course this is merely a writing or scheduling issue, but in-universe Uhura has just had one hell of a month. I like to imagine that she requested, and was given, some leave time to take care of her mental health. Because in the future we all know that mental health and health are the same thing, and we make sure to take care of ourselves when we need it.

[theheartsmistakes]

Any Other Name- Chapter 3

Once the dishes were all dried and put away— dishes that didn't even belong to them, to begin with— and the kitchen cleaned, Cordelia helped Sona unpack a few more boxes of kitchen supplies and pack away some of the things that Tessa left behind. They labeled the boxes storage so no one would throw them away and tucked them into the empty hall closet.

When it was only half an hour to ten, the Inquisitor and Consul finally left, leaving the Carstairs family once again alone in the house that felt nothing like home.

At some point during the hour and a half discussion spent inside of the study, her father had loosened his tie, abandoned his jacket, and rolled his shirt sleeves up to his elbows. Dark circles etched around his eyes and a distinct shadow appeared along his jaw and neck flecked with silver amongst the black.

Cordelia stared at the door they’d just left through and silently sent a prayer to the Angel that they both died in a terrible, albeit ironic, accident on their way home.

“Well,” said her mother, her voice echoed in the empty foray. “What did they say?”

As much as Cordelia wanted to stay and listen to her father’s debriefing, she only had twenty minutes left to meet with Lucie and she still had no idea how to get to the location Lucie left her. She’d never ventured alone around London before and with all the buildings and streets and mundane vehicles, it might as well be a maze to her.

“I think I’ll wait to hear the overview over breakfast,” said Cordelia as she turned towards the stairs. “There is only so much nonsense the stomach can handle. Too much is just not good for the digestion.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” said her father. “Thank you for tonight. They were both quite impressed by you.”

With her back towards her parents, she rolled her eyes and ran up the rest of the stairs.

Once back inside Lucie’s bedroom, she peeled off the cotton dress and tossed it on the bed. She pulled on a pair of black jeans, a black long sleeve shirt, and her favorite leather jacket that she zipped up to her chin and flicked the hood over her head. She tugged on her combat boots and tucked in the laces before grabbing Cortana, a stele that she tucked into her inside jacket pocket, and a couple of daggers before she shoved open the window and climbed out on the roof.

A fine mist had started just enough to make everything wet. Cordelia’s rubber soles gripped the tiles as she snuck across the tile until she found the trellis that usually had delicate pink roses clinging to a climbing vine this time of year. It was long dead and fallen to the ground in a pile of brown sticks and thorns.

Cordelia hooked her foot into a hole in the trellis and began her descent; the toes of her boots taking purchase in every nook they could find until her feet landed in the flower bed outside of the now dark dining room window.

Cordelia shook the water from her hands and shoved them into her jacket pockets to keep them warm before heading out to the main road.

The rune her mother gave her before they portaled to London still burned and kept her invisible from the mundane eye and her relatively mundane clothes wouldn’t attract the attention of any Shadowhunters that might be out on patrol. As she strolled through Mundane London, which remained surprisingly bright and alive at almost ten at night, with loud vehicles motoring past on narrow roads, horns blaring, or someone’s obnoxious bass beating into the night, Cordelia found that in some ways it did remind her of the city in Tehran. When she’d go out on patrol with Hettie and Minu it would often look quite similar to London.

If she hadn’t been running late, she might have lingered to ogle at some of the buildings or traveled her preferred way over the rooftops. High above the crowds, where she could see the gabled peaks of St. Paul’s Cathedral and the moon glittering off the River Thames. But tonight she was short on time.

Once a few miles away from the Institute, Cordelia took out Lucie’s note and her stele and drew a tracking rune onto the sheet. It burned to life in her hand and flapped in an invisible wind. She followed its lead down Fleet Street until they reached the corner at Ludgate Hill and it tugged her down St. Paul’s Churchyard.

She had to run to keep up with the possessed page. Cordelia began to wonder if it was some cruel trick Lucie was playing on her as it turned down Cannon St, then Queen Victoria St, then Mansion House, and Cornhill. She nearly gave up when it took a slight left from Leadenhall to Aldgate when the bells of the old clock tower began to chime the hour.

She could see the clock now. Its round face was bright in the night and its ancient wooden structure looked decrepit as it titled slightly towards the left. The paper tugged itself stubbornly towards the tower nearly ripping itself out of Cordelia’s hand.

Cordelia tucked the paper back into her jacket pocket even as it continued to twitched and force itself out. She picked up a jog and jumped at the iron gate protecting the park where the old tower stood in the center. With little effort, she was able to clear the gate and land back on her feet on the other side.

The park was empty except for an oblivious security officer staring at his phone from his odd-looking golf cart. The angle of the phone and the light reflecting off his face gave him an unattractive double chin. She never wanted anything to do with mundane technology, it served as too much of a distraction. That mundane might as well offer himself to a demon for dinner. If Shadowhunters allowed themselves to be that vulnerable, there’d be far fewer of them.

Minu, she knew, would want to mess with him. Minu enjoyed teasing mundanes when given the chance, especially if what the mundanes were doing was dangerous and negligent.

But she didn’t have time to think about what Minu would do or that the security guard was distracted by his phone.

Cordelia walked the rest of the way to the clock and carefully ducked under the yellow caution tape surrounding it. By the burning runes etched into the wood, she knew it was glamoured. She wondered what it looked like to the mundane eye when they walked past.

Cordelia spun around looking for a shadow or a shape that might be Lucie waiting for her. She hoped she wasn’t too late and Lucie left.

“Lucie,” she whispered into the night. “Lucie, I’m here. Where are you?”

After a moment when the only sound that responded to her was a pigeon's coo, she circled the base of the tower until she found a back door propped open with a brick.

Never one to need a moment of courage, Cordelia took a deep breath to calm the tightening in her chest and opened the door on its senescent hinges.

A serpentine staircase twisted its way up the tower for what looked like miles where Cordelia stood. A few field mice scurried away to their burrows at the sudden intrusion, their droppings and mess littered the wood stairs that groaned under Cordelia’s weight as she started her slow ascent, testing each beam before trusting it. She skipped a few that bowed in the middle and those that were already missing and wondered how Lucie hadn’t fallen to her death climbing her way to the top.

London and their pride over their ancient structures, Cordelia thought to herself. It was no wonder the whole building had to be cautioned off. It would only take one idiotic mundane with a death wish to climb these and plummet to their doom.

She began to wonder what would happen if she were to fall and be found dead at the bottom of the tower. Surely she’d disgrace her family who would wonder what would bring her out to an abandoned old clock tower in the middle of the night. The Clave would think the reason was something scandalous most likely. One thing was for certain though, she’d become the Bridgestock’s personal poltergeist in her afterlife.

Nearly at the top now and clinging to the unreliable railing, she could see the light from the watch face and feel the reverberating beats of the mechanisms through the wood underneath her feet as each hand of the clock moved half an inch for each second.

Once at the top, the paper in her jacket pocket went still. She stepped into the empty room and took in her surroundings. The clock face was a window that looked out over London. She could see the points and peaks of Buckingham Palace and Big Ben’s watchful eye in the distance. The lights from Regent’s park lit up the night as well as the red and white traffic lights around King Cross station. She had to admit if only to herself, London was beautiful from up high. Looking down on it, she felt how Pip might have felt in Great Expectation. From down below, London appeared ugly, crooked, narrow, and dirty. But from up above, it represented the ultimate milieu in terms of success. The equivalent of civilization; a world where only the most successful go; a tireless city of possibilities; and a bit romantic.

“You came,” said a soft, familiar voice behind her. Cordelia turned, her hood dropping away from her face, as she faced Lucie standing in the dull shadow the clock face made on the floor. She held something in her hands pointed directly at Cordelia. It wasn’t a knife or a sword or even an ax-- Lucie’s preferred weapon-- but a gun.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” said Lucie, her hands steady. The barrel of the weapon never once dipped or swayed. “Give me your weapons.”

Cordelia raised her hands. “Lucie, I’m not here to hurt you—“

“Remove your weapons and toss them here,” said Lucie firmly. “I won't ask you again.”

Cordelia wasn’t sure if that meant Lucie would shoot her or leave if Cordelia refused, but she didn’t prefer either outcome. She removed Cortana first and laid it on the ground at her feet and kicked it gently towards Lucie. Then the duel blades from inside her jacket and her stele.

“Now remove your jacket and your boots,” said Lucie, eyes still locked over the barrel.

Cordelia unzipped her jacket and dropped it to the floor. Then she kicked off both of her boots and tossed them into the pile too.

“Put your arms out to your sides,” said Lucie as she took a step towards Cordelia, “and spread your legs.”

Cordelia did as she was told watching Lucie carefully as she approached, holding the gun in one hand now while the other quickly patted Cordelia down for any more hidden weapons.

“I’m clean.”

“Don’t speak,” said Lucie, feeling around in Cordelia’s pockets.

“I thought that was why you asked me to come here,” said Cordelia, as Lucie pushed the gun into Cordelia’s side and frisked both of her legs. “To talk.”

“Then why did you bring the weapons?” Lucie stood and took several steps backward once she was satisfied Cordelia had no more weapons.

“I’m a Shadowhunter, I brought them in case I needed to defend myself,” said Cordelia. “Why did you bring the gun?”

“For the same reason.” Lucie hissed.

“Guns don’t work on demons.”

Lucie’s gaze narrowed. “Not all of them.”

Cordelia dropped her arms back down to her sides and took a moment to appraise her friend— though she wasn’t so sure she could call her that anymore. She looked nothing like the girl Cordelia used to clash pretend swords with or make chains out of the wildflowers that would grow in the fields of Alicante when they’d visit during Spring. Her eyes changed in the five years since they last saw each other. Once wide, excited, and curious, they were now focused and on guard, like an expert gambler waiting for an opponent to show their tell, and lined in thick black ink that bled down to her lower lash line. She cut her mousy brown hair to her narrow shoulders where it curled in an uneven pattern, similar to her brother’s.

“Lucie, it’s me.” Cordelia exhaled and stepped forward.

Lucie pulled down the hammer on the gun until it clicked into place. “What nickname did my brother give you when we were children and why?”

A test, Cordelia understood. A question only the real Cordelia and not some imposter would know the answer to. “Daisy. He called me Daisy because when we were little girls we were playing and you fell from the edge of a cliff. I caught you and held you there until help came. James said that when they pulled you up, I collapsed from exhaustion into a pile of daisies.” Tears sprang to her eyes at the memory. “It’s me, Lucie. I’m not here to hurt you.”

The corner of Lucie’s mouth twitched right before she lowered the gun down to the floor and disengaged the hammer, her eyes never leaving Cordelia.

“I had to be sure,” whispered Lucie. “I’m sorry for being this way, but you have to understand the precautions are necessary. It’s incredibly dangerous for me and you to be here right now, but I had to speak with you and I knew that if anyone would be willing to meet with me, it would be you.”

Cordelia nodded and took a tentative step closer. “I understand. No need to apologize. How did this happen, Lucie?”

“Bridgestock finally got his way." She shoved her gun into its holster at her hip. “We can’t even use angelic weapons anymore. He had them be remade by the iron sisters so that they wouldn’t respond to anyone with even a little bit demon blood, the bloody tosser. It wasn’t enough that he stole our home, he had to take our one form of defense away.”

“That’s awful,” said Cordelia and looked down at the pile of weapons on the floor.

“He believes that we cannot be Shadowhunters because of our linage,” said Lucie.

“But why?” asked Cordelia. “It doesn’t make sense. Your family has never done anything to deserve this kind of treatment.”

“He believes our blood to be dirty,” sneered Lucie. “He always had something to say about my mother’s paternal side but he didn’t fight anyone on it until my mother became pregnant with James. Then, he really started to build his whole agenda around the purity of Shadowhunter blood. No one paid him any mind until James accidentally disappeared into the Shadowrealm in front of Augustus.”

“He what?!”

“It was an accident,” shouted Lucie. “Augustus was saying horrible things about my mother and James retaliated by punching Augustus in the face. When Augustus grabbed him to throw a punch, James just disappeared out of his grasp. Of course, Pounceby ran home to his father to tell him of the situation and that seemed to be the last straw. They gathered enough votes to remove Charlotte from her position as Consul and have us banished.

“No one cared that Augustus said my mother was nothing more than a Shadowhunter’s whore that my father knocked up on accident because he couldn’t keep his—“ Lucie shuttered and her whole face turned red. “He said some nasty things, but no one cared about that. No, they only cared that James’s demon blood gave him abilities that were not gifted by the angel. They didn’t want to risk anymore of the blood being passed on when James or I married, so they banished us. They fucking banished us.”

Cordelia fought the urge to run over and hug her. Even words failed her, what could she say that could fix any of this. To say “ I’m sorry” felt disingenuous because she wasn’t sorry, she was livid. She wanted to ask Lucie who she wanted her to murder first.

In the end, she decided to say nothing and let Lucie speak.

“It’s also partially punishment,” continued Lucie, “because my father continued to refuse Bridgestock’s and Pounceby’s advancements on the separation of Shadowhunters from Downworlders. Downworlders are also not from the Angel and therefore we should not have an alliance with them. We should govern and control them. He wants us to disassociate ourselves from our friends, Cordelia. He wants us to manage and control them like they’re beneath us. He wanted to strip them of their rights, rights that they earned from the truce created between us so long ago. He’s a dictator, Cordelia, and he’s going to start a war.”

Cordelia nodded. “I know. I agree. What can we do?”

Lucie closed her eyes and exhaled. “Nothing. He has the majority of the clave so wrapped around his finger that he can manipulate them to do his work like little marionettes.” She imitated the movements with her hands.

“What about your Aunt Cecily and Uncle Gabriel? Charlotte and Henry? Sophie and Gideon?” asked Cordelia. “They make up a large part of the Clave surely their opinions have some sway.”

“He threatened them,” said Lucie. “When they banished us at the Clave meeting, they told everyone that disagreed with the decision that they could be exiled as well and they would be forced to give up their Marks. Christopher, Matthew, and Thomas were willing to do it, but their parents stopped them and then forbid them from seeing James or me! Did you hear what they did to Matthew?”

Cordelia nodded and felt like she might be violently sick.

“I can still hear James screaming in my mind when they removed the mark from Matthew.” A far-off look washed over Lucie’s face. She squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to erase whatever had taken over her vision.

“What about Brother Zachariah?” asked Cordelia. “Jem and the rest of the Silent Brother’s. Surely, they wouldn’t agree to this.”

“Brother Enoch’s exact words were ‘they do not doddle in the affairs of mortal men’.” Lucie rolled her eyes. “Just another way of saying it’s not their problem. We haven’t heard anything from Jem because to try to intervene would be going against his vows. We have been utterly abandoned.”

“No,” Cordelia stepped forward again until she stood only a few inches from Lucie. “I’m here. I won’t abandon you.”

“You can say that now but you haven’t been here the past six months,” said Lucie. “If anyone knew you came here to see me tonight you’d be publicly punished, possibly stripped of your Marks, or something worse. I shouldn’t have ever asked you to come. It was selfish of me, but I don’t have very many choices and you’re the only one that can help me with this.”

Without hesitation, Cordelia blurted, “What do you need from me? How can I help?”

“When you go to the next Clave meeting in Alicante, there is a book from the library there that I need you to find,” said Lucie. “It’s the first volume of the Shadow Codex ever written. You’ll most likely find it in—“

“I know where I can find it,” said Cordelia, the warmth from her skin drained. “Lucie, it’s forbidden to touch that book, you know that. It’s protected with wards and a glass encasement. It’s an ancient relic for us. To look at that book is a privilege; to touch— to steal it— would be cause for punishments we haven’t even heard of.”

“I know, I know,” said Lucie. “I wouldn’t be asking you this if I had any other choice. I can’t ask anyone else because they’re all constantly being watched by Augustus and his friends. You have less of an affiliation with us than anyone else. They won’t be watching you as closely and you’re incredibly clever.”

“Flattery will not work right now, Lucie,” said Cordelia as she began to pace. “What do you want with the Shadowhunter Codex anyway? What’s in the original that isn’t it one of the hundred volumes published for public access?”

Lucie averted her eyes. “I can’t tell you.”

Cordelia huffed. “Why not? If I’m to do this I deserve to know what I’m doing it for.”

“You’re doing it to help me and my family.” The hardness returned to Lucie’s gaze and tone as she looked back up to Cordelia. “If you believe what’s been done to us is wrong and needs to be stopped then you will help me with this, no questions asked.”

Cordelia let out a deep breath and tried to make sense of her racing thoughts. If she did what Lucie was asking and stole the very first Shadowhunter Codex written and illustrated by the first three then it wouldn’t just mean her punishment, but her family’s punishment as well. They’d be humiliated by her, disappointed, and possibly cast out. But if she wasn’t caught and within this book was a way to help save the Herondales and tear Bridgestock and Pounceby down from their reign of power, then the risk may be worth it… as long as she wasn’t caught.

“I’ll try,” said Cordelia. “I’m not promising anything and I’m not risking my own family, but you were a good friend to me when I had no one else, so I will try.”

Lucie’s eyes swam as she gave Cordelia a tentative smile. “Thank you.”

The shadow outline of the clock on the floor of the shack reflected it was forty-five minutes past the hour. She should be getting home for tomorrow she would be training with Augustus and she needed all of her sanity not to club him in the nose with the blunt end of Cortana.

“The meeting is going to be held in two weeks,” said Cordelia as she walked to her pile of clothes and weapons. “I will meet you back here on the Saturday that follows at the same time. If for some reason I don’t make it then it will be the next night or the following. If I don’t show up after three days then it’s safe to assume that I was caught and thrown in prison; in which case I hope that you find a way to win and take those bastards down.”

She shucked on her jacket and slid her feet into her boots.

“We were supposed be Parabatai,” said Lucie and handed Cordelia Cortana. “It would have been an honor. I would have been lucky to have a warrior partner like you.”

Cordelia took her sword from Lucie. “I still believe we will be. Until then, we will continue to treat each other as such.” She placed a hand on Lucie’s shoulders before turning towards the stairs and began her descent back into the night.

---------

A heavier rain began to fall as she made her way back towards Fleet Street. Cordelia pulled up her hood and shoved her cold, wet hands into the front pockets of her jacket as she walked, Cortana nudging her back with each step she took. The city had finally quieted some: the roads were less crowded except for the occasional bright yellow taxi.

Without Lucie’s runed letter to follow, all of the roads and buildings looked the same to Cordelia. She hadn’t exactly been paying attention to landmarks or street signs when she was following a possessed page down dark streets in corners. She did the best she could by memory but found herself growing less and less familiar with her surroundings.

It may have been her growing frustration with herself or her paranoia after seeing Lucie, but she couldn’t shake the odd sense that she was being followed. Though every glance she threw over her shoulder, she found nothing to be lurking in the shadows even with her night vision rune still burning on the inside of her arm.

She found herself wandering down a road that was still rowdy for this time of night. Flickering lights of red and yellow flashed from signs hanging over doorways where loud music and shouting filled the streets. The air smelt thick of spilled ale and magic. As she passed by, she could have sworn eyes followed her from the patrons standing outside of the clubs. She hid her face deeper within her tunic and tried to keep her gate casual to not draw attention to herself.

When she got to the end of the road, she took a right but found that it was a darkened alleyway that came to a dead-end only a few feet in. Frustrated, she turned around and nearly collided with a man.

No, not a man, a Fae warrior. His long black hair was tucked behind each of his pointed ears and when he flashed her a predatory smile sharp incisors glistened in the lights that lined the roof.

Cordelia regained her balance quickly and looked at him then the two other warriors standing on either of his sides.

“You’re a long way from your side of town, Nephilim,” he said in a deep gravely voice. “And all alone.”

“What makes you assume I’m alone?” said Cordelia, fighting to keep her voice even.

“We’ve been following you for the past half hour,” said the Fae. “You seem a bit lost.”

The Fae were not their enemy. She had nothing to fear from them, but for some unknown reason, she felt uneasy in their presence alone. Her hand itched to reach for Cortana, but to do so would show her apprehension and she didn't want to appear as a threat.

So she told them the truth. “I'm a bit lost. I’m new to London and my escort seems to have abandoned me. I’m looking for Fleet Street. Would you mind pointing me in the right direction?”

The Fae took a step forward, forcing her to take a step backward farther down the alley. “A Nephilim alone in our side of town is fair game. Perhaps we should make an example of her the way her kind make an example of us when we wander too far into their parts?”

The other two warriors grunted their agreement.

Cordelia did reach for Cortana then and with a sharp pull, removed the sword from its scabbard. “I don’t want to harm any of you. I’m here by accident and I’d like to leave without any unnecessary bloodshed. If you would kindly move, I will be on my way.”

The Fae warrior removed two blades from the scabbards at his sides and glided them across each other so they made a spark. “She is a lovely thing. Perhaps we could take turns with her and return her back to her people used.”

Cordelia swung Cortana and positioned herself to fight. “You can try, but I strongly advice you let me pass.”

“Or what?” grinned the head Fae. “You’ll cut all three of us down by yourself with that little blade in your hand?”

He moved towards her again, and this time Cordelia refused to give one step.

“Oh, I wouldn’t doubt her, Bevan,” said a voice from the opening of the alley. “I’ve seen her take down men twice as skilled as you.”

As the three Fae men turned to look behind them, Cordelia took her chance and lunged for the lead Fae.

A/N: Comments, likes, and reblog are my main source of motivation so please let me know what you think.

Next chapter comes out: Fri, June 11th.

[theycallmebeccawrites]

Chris & Ellie Series: Episode 22

Hello my lovelies! I hope you guys are doing as well as you can in 2020. As many of you know, I am in Oregon and I’m kind of in the middle of all the fires. Thankfully, myself and my family are safe. A handful had to evacuate, but they were able to do so and only one family member lost their house to the fires. But we were lucky, because we have several towns that were essentially destroyed by the fires and we know lives were lost, but we still don’t know the full numbers. So it has been a stressful 10 days in Oregon on top of everything we’ve dealt with in regards to Covid.

All the said, here I am with another Chris and Ellie episode for you guys. And it’s only been a couple weeks since my last update, too. And if you follow my main tumblr, you might have seen my post last night about getting a lot of writing done lately. I’m hoping to have more updates for you guys in the coming weeks/months. Don’t want to say too much... cause you don’t want to tempt 2020...*knock on wood*

Enough of my yapping... enjoy the episode!

Shout to @nomadicpixel @heather-lynn @alievans007​ and @mrs-captain-evans​ for their assistance as always :)

Pairing: Chris Evans x Ellie Spencer (OFC)

Rating: PG

Warnings: n/a

Episode Summary: Ellie has finally found a new place to live

Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.

This episode can also be read on AO3.

The Chris & Ellie Series Masterlist | Chris & Ellie Masterlist

Episode 21.5

Episode 22: Home Sweet Home

July 25, 2014

Ellie sat at the table in the breakroom at the bookstore, once again looking for an apartment in the Los Angeles area, but not finding anything. Sighing, she rubbed her temples.

"You're moving?" her coworker Adrianna asked, looking over her shoulder. 

"Trying to," Ellie replied with a shrug. "Not having any luck."

"I thought you were living with a guy," Adrianna said.

"I was," Ellie answered, hesitantly. "It didn't work out."

Adrianna nodded her head sympathetically. "Guys these days are the worst," she commiserated.

Before Ellie could do more than nod in silent agreement, a voice called from the shop and Adrianna left the breakroom.

"So things didn't work out with you and the actor then?" Her boss Veronica said from the doorway to her office.

Ellie shook her head as she turned to look at her.

"I dated an actor once," Veronica said as she sat down at the table next to Ellie. "Worst decision of my life. They're too self-centered."

Even after everything that she had been through with Chris, Ellie couldn't stomach the idea of bad mouthing him. Even to someone who would never meet him. "My current dilemma is that I can't find a place to move that's in my budget and will let me keep my dog," she told Veronica. "I'm even considering moving back home to Oregon."

Veronica frowned and said, "Why didn't you say something sooner? I know a place."

"You know a place?" Ellie repeated. "Where?"

"Here," Veronica said, nodding her head towards the ceiling. "Or rather, upstairs."

"But that's your apartment," Ellie replied, confused.

"There is a studio apartment on the floor between the shop and my apartment," Veronica told her. "It's a three-story building, you know."

"I knew that, but I thought the second floor was just storage," Ellie said, gesturing to the stairs that led up to the second floor. She’d only been up there a handful of times to help bring down decorations.

"It only takes up part of the second floor," Veronica told her. "Come with me. It's been a couple months since anyone has stayed there, but if you want it, it's yours."

Standing up, Ellie followed Veronica towards the back entrance of the shop, but instead of going outside into the alley, Veronica opened a door that led upstairs to what Ellie had thought was Veronica's private residence. They climbed the first flight of stairs and at the top of the landing was a door.

Veronica unlocked it and pushed it open, stepping inside before gesturing Ellie into the apartment. "I keep it cleaned and partially furnished," Veronica explained. "You never know when someone needs a place to stay for a couple nights." She smiled at Ellie. "Or a new place to start over after a breakup." She held out her keys and said, "Take a look around and lock up when you're done."

"Thanks, Veronica," Ellie said, trying to keep her bubbling emotions at bay. Less than five minutes ago, she'd been virtually homeless with no idea of where she'd be living. Now, her mind was trying to wrap itself around the sudden change of events. Added with the emotional fatigue of her weeks of searching and the post Chris stuff, her emotions were lingering just below the surface.

Once Veronica had gone downstairs, Ellie felt tears start to well up in her eyes. She brushed away the ones that dropped as she looked around the small, studio apartment. From the looks of it, it was slightly bigger than the guest house she and Daisy were currently living in. The living room area already had a floral-patterned loveseat along one wall and the kitchen opposite it had a breakfast bar with a couple barstools so she wouldn't need a table.

Going farther into the apartment, Ellie opened the one door in the entire place and found a bathroom that even had a bathtub in it. It was nothing like the bathtub in Chris's master suite or as deep as the one in the guesthouse, but it was a bathtub.

Leaving the bathroom, Ellie went behind the wall that separated the bedroom area from the rest of the apartment, finding a queen size bed with a mattress that looked practically brand new. On the back wall of the bedroom area, there was a small closet. It was smaller than that in the guest house, but there was room for a dresser and she could always store things under her bed.

She chewed on her lower lip as she made her way back to the living room portion. It seemed like the perfect place for her, even her gut was telling her it was a good idea. But after everything that had happened with Chris, she wasn't sure she could trust her own thoughts and feelings just yet.

Knowing Scott was on set that day, she sent him a text, asking if he could stop at the bookstore before he went home. He replied almost immediately, saying he would.

Going back downstairs, Ellie knocked on Veronica's door.

"What do you think?" Veronica asked as she accepted the keys from Ellie.

"It's nice," Ellie replied. "But are you sure you're ok with me having a dog up there?"

"Normally, I don't allow pets," Veronica told her. "But for you, I will make an exception."

"Do I have to give you an answer right now?" Ellie asked. "My friend Scott has been helping me look and I want him to see it before I make a decision."

"Take all the time you need," Veronica told her. Then she took the key to the apartment off the keychain and handed it to Ellie. "You already have a key to get into the building through the alley. Once you decide whether you're going to take it, we'll sit down and talk about money. I own the building, so we'll come to an agreement that works best for your budget."

"Thank you," Ellie replied, feeling her eyes pooling with tears again. "Excuse me."

Leaving Veronica's office, she slipped into the employees’ bathroom and took a few minutes to compose herself before she returned to work.

When Scott got to the shop, a few hours later, Ellie was clocked out for the day and waiting for him to get there.

After instructing him to use the alley entrance, she met him at the back door and led him up to the apartment. As she led him inside, she felt even more confident that this was the right choice. She just hoped Scott would agree.

Scott was silent as he checked out the small place. He knew that she was waiting for his approval, he could see her twisting her hands as she waited for him to say something. If he was being honest with himself, a part of him didn't want to give it to her because that meant she would move out. At the same time, he remembered how carefree she'd looked and acted when they'd taken her away for the weekend and how that had vanished the second they'd returned home.

"It comes furnished?" he asked her.

"Partially, what's here stays," Ellie replied. "And Veronica said that Daisy isn't a problem. And since I'll be right downstairs, I can let her out during the day, too."

"Can't beat the commute," he said with a small smile that was more for her benefit than because he felt like smiling. Changing the topic, he pointed at the couch. "That though…"

"It's ugly I know," Ellie said with a small laugh. "But maybe I can buy a slipcover and make it my own." As she started to imagine making the small apartment her own, she felt her palms start to get sweaty. Turning to Scott, she asked, "Am I making the right decision? Moving out?"

Scott wanted to say no, but he wouldn't lie to her. "Yes, you are," he said and held out his arms. She came to him and he wrapped his arms around her. "You're making a smart choice for you, Ellie. And as much as I'm going to miss having you for a roommate, I'm proud of you."

"You can come over whenever you want," Ellie told him.

After Scott left, Ellie went downstairs to talk to Veronica about taking the apartment. They quickly and easily agreed to terms with Veronica promising to have paperwork for Ellie to sign the next afternoon. Meaning that Ellie would be able to move in that weekend.

As Ellie drove back to Chris's house, she started to create mental lists of everything she needed to do before she moved. When she got to the house, she found that Scott had already let Daisy out and had ordered dinner for the both of them.

The next day, Ellie spent the morning working in the guesthouse, packing up her things. After lunch, she drove to the bookstore to sign the rental agreement as well as take measurements of the apartment.

When she got back from her errands, Scott was home and volunteered to take care of dinner again. Aka order in.

It wasn't until after they'd eaten and were in the guesthouse packing up the rest of her stuff that he dropped a bombshell. "I can't help you tomorrow," he revealed. "We ran into some technical issues on set today and tomorrow is the last day that we have access to the property."

Before she could even wonder how she was going to move without his help, he added, "But I've already talked to Pierre. He is available to help and he said he wouldn't take no for an answer."

"You could have started with that instead of trying to give me a heart attack," Ellie muttered as she threw a pillow at him from her bed.

"Sorry!" Scott said with a laugh.

It took them another hour to finish packing her stuff and when they were finished, there was barely any room to walk in the guesthouse.

"I hadn't realized how much stuff I had accumulated," Ellie muttered as she surveyed the boxes. "And I don't even know what I'm going to do with my boxes in the basement. My new place is a little bigger, but not that much."

"You can leave those boxes here," Scott told her. "You don't have to move everything."

"That's not really your say is it?" Ellie responded, her eyebrow raised.

"No, but we both know Chris would say the same thing," Scott insisted, crossing his arms over his chest. "He wouldn't want you to spend extra money to store stuff when he has space he isn't using here. Besides, I'm living here and it's not like you won't be coming over regularly to take care of stuff here."

"True," Ellie replied, all the while knowing that there was no reason for her to keep coming to the house while Scott was living there. That was a whole different can of worms that she didn't have the energy to think about right now.

By the time she went to bed, most of her things were packed and ready for the morning. She and Scott had carried most of the boxes up to the big house and had stacked them in the hallway. She had also touched base with Pierre and he had offered to pick up and tow the trailer she had rented since his car had a trailer hitch on it.

The next morning, after Scott left, Ellie packed her last minute stuff. Including the box she had purposely kept out of his sight the day before. Pulling it out from under her bed, she set it on top of the comforter and stared down at the gifts Chris had given her and the mementos she'd kept from their short relationship, including her ticket to the World Series game where she and Chris had had their first kiss. 

She found herself studying and remembering each item as she sorted through the shoe box. She wasn't ready to part with any of the mementos, but at the same time, she also knew that in order to get over Chris, she couldn't have them with her in her new apartment. Instead, she carried the box to the basement to leave with other boxes she was leaving behind.

Scott had been right, she knew. Chris would have insisted that she keep her boxes here instead of renting a storage unit for them. She set the box of memories on top of the others and brushed away a tear that had rolled down her cheek. She hadn't realized how hard it would be to say goodbye to the guest house.

Hearing her phone ding, Ellie looked at it and saw that Pierre had arrived and was waiting for her outside. While the bookstore was open, they were going to run errands before they went to get the trailer. Then, when the bookstore closed for the day, they'd do the actual moving of her stuff.

With so much on her mind with the move, her physical and mental checklists, Ellie was able to focus on everything but her emotions. But after lunch, when she and Pierre were back at the house and loading the last of her stuff into the trailer, she felt her resolve start to slip.

With every box they loaded, she got closer and closer to saying goodbye to the place that had been her home for the last year and a half. She tried to blink back her tears, but they fell anyway. Not wanting Pierre to see, she tried to turn her face away, but she wasn't quick enough.

"Oh, Ellie," he said, his tone one of empathy as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.

She buried her face into his chest and sobbed.

Pierre rubbed her back and let her cry, knowing it was exactly what she needed to do. This was the first step in closing the door that had been her life with Chris.

"I'm sorry," Ellie said, a moment later, sniffling. "I got snot on your shirt. That's disgusting."

"It's ok," Pierre assured her with a gentle smile. "I have a washing machine."

He meant it as a joke, in hopes she'd laugh, but she only gave him a small, feeble smile in response.

"I need to do another quick check of the guest house," she told him as she used her hands to dry her face. "And then we can go."

"I'll wait out here for you," Pierre said, knowing she needed a couple minutes to compose herself.

Going into the house, Ellie went into the bathroom and splashed some water on her face. Then she went back out to the guest house for one last look. She'd have to do the actual cleaning of it another day, but all her personal items were gone. All that remained were the furnishings.

Grabbing her purse and Daisy's leash, she called the dog and then locked up as she made her way out of the house. She loaded Daisy into her crate in the backseat of her car and said, "We're off on a new adventure, Daisy girl, just you and me."

With the bookstore closed for the day, Ellie expected to find the place deserted. Instead, she found her coworkers waiting in the breakroom.

"We stayed to help you move in," Adrianna told her. "We figured more hands would be helpful."

Ellie hugged her and then hugged her other two coworkers, Raven and Joanne. "You guys are the best," she said.

In the end, Ellie ended up being in the apartment with Daisy while the others passed boxes from the trailer and up the stairs. Between the five of them, it took less than an hour to get all her stuff into the apartment.

After that, her coworkers had to leave, but Pierre stayed for another hour to help her unpack before he too had to leave.

"Thanks for all your help today," Ellie told him as she followed him down the stairs. "I couldn't have done this without you."

"You're welcome," Pierre said and gave her a hug. "See you later. Lock the door behind me."

Ellie did and then made her way upstairs to where Daisy had already made herself comfortable on the couch.

"It's just us now, Daisy girl," Ellie said, scratching the dog's head. "Now what to unpack next?"

Deciding to focus on her bedroom, Ellie made her way around the wall and opened a box only to find the Donald Duck stuffed animal Chris had gotten her in Disney World sitting at the very top. She'd seen Scott pack it the night before when he'd been clearing off one of her bookshelves, but she hadn't had the heart to tell him not to pack it.

Picking it up, she studied it as she remembered the conversation that had led to Chris buying it for her. It had been almost a year ago and they'd been on their way to the wedding of one of his close friends. She'd thrown out a random Oregon Duck related fact, about how Puddles, the Ducks mascot, was basically Donald Duck. Chris had remembered that conversation and had sent him to her.

As she debated what to do with Donald, her phone rang. Picking it up, she saw that it was Tanya Kelley, the wife of one of Chris's friends, calling.

Glancing at Donald and then back at her phone, she answered it, all the while wondering if she'd accidentally awoken some secret Disney magic with her memories. "Hello?"

"Ellie!" Tanya's friendly voice rang through. "How are you?"

"I'm good," Ellie replied, hesitantly. "How are you?"

"I'm good," Tanya said. "Hey! I'm calling because we're working on the final head count for Tessa's baby shower next week and I noticed that we hadn't heard back from you, so I just wanted to check in."

Ellie cringed and looked at Daisy, who had followed her into the bedroom. She'd received the invitation but given the circumstances hadn't felt right accepting and had put off responding not wanting to ruffle any feathers. She'd hoped they'd just assume she never received it, but clearly that wasn't the case.

"I'm not going to be able to make it," she told Tanya. Then sighed as the guilt of lying to Tanya, who had been nothing but friendly to her, quickly got to her. "No, that's a lie. Sorry, Tanya. The truth is Chris and I... We broke up. And given his close friendship with your husband and the other guys... I didn't think it would be right for me to come."

Tanya was silent for a moment before she said, "We didn't like you just because you were with Chris. We like you because of who you are, Ellie."

"I know, but it complicates things," Ellie sighed, shaking her head. "Especially for… well the... future." In her head, she knew the future meant Chris's future relationships and eventually, a wife, but she couldn't say those words aloud.

"I suppose you're right," Tanya conceded with a sigh. "I don't have to like it though. And, for the record, I already don't like the future."

Not expecting that, Ellie laughed and realized that for the first time in a long time, it felt really good to laugh. Then she did something she hadn't planned to do when she'd answered the phone. She told Tanya that she moved and promised to text her new address. She even answered a few of Tanya's questions about the breakup but didn't go into too much detail.

"Take care of yourself, Ellie," Tanya said as they started to say their goodbyes. "Chris is a dumbass for letting you go."

After hanging up, Ellie looked down at the Donald Duck stuffed animal and decided that she wasn't ready to part with all the memories she and Chris had together. Picking it up, she carried it out to the living room and set it down on the back of the couch, with the wall propping it up, where it would be out of the way until she and Scott could build her new bookshelves.

Episode 22.5

Want to find me off tumblr? I'm @beccatheycallme on twitter. I also post my stories on AO3.

Tag List: @nomadicpixel​, @heather-lynn​, @alievans007​, @mrs-captain-evans​, @stopjustlovethemcu​, @thewannabewriter​, @guera31​, @badassbaker​, @chezdricks​, @patzammit​, @katiew1973​, @zoeloveschrisevans​, @marvelouspottering​, @pegasusdragontiger​, @smoothdogsgirl​, @peaceinourtime82​, @ek823​, @anionthewrite​, @mizzzpink​, @giftofdreams, @janeyboo​, @princess-evans-addict​, @jesseswartzwelder​, @avenger-nerd-mom​, @furrywerewolfcollector​, @ladyamandapanda12​, @gigglegirl77​, @poisonedyouth-americanbeauty​

My tag list is always open, just let me know if you'd like to be added!

[stevenbasic]

“Wait tell me again we lost how many people?!?” I asked, still unable to believe it. Too much was happening, too much too quickly. Here I was, sitting in this monstrosity of an office Melissa has somehow arranged to be built for herself while we were away, in front of her gigantic new desk, still dealing with what happened with Sheryl at home (more on that later), and now this?!? More quittings?!?

“Shhh we’ll be fine…” Melissa soothed, trying to placate me as she poured a coffee for me at her new, elegant coffee station in the corner, “it was just the girls from accounting, Sharon from the front desk, a few part-time medical assistants…” I watched her add sugar and milk, and more milk. “Kathy was having trouble with Doris and Marjorie in accounting, anyway.”

I put my head in my hands. I can’t say I didn’t know this day was coming. So many of my old employees hated Melissa. Or, rather, they hated me for being such a weak turd, so easily enchanted by a big pair of tits that I’d hire an under-qualified, under-experienced girl like “Melissssy” to be their boss and basically run the finances of the practice into the ground, which was exactly what was happening. We’d been bleeding money and now we were bleeding people. Out of a total of seventeen or so original employees at the start, now only a handful were left. The rest, all the new hires were...hers: friends, ex-coworkers, people from this drug company to which she has some connection, a friend in sales. And if she made more hires to replace those that just left, the overwhelming majority at this point would have more loyalty to her than to me. I groaned, lamenting how far I’d let this get....

It was as if she was reading my mind when she consoled me. “Aw, shhhh...You still have CiCi, in scheduling, Aubrey and Brittni at the desk, nurse Vida, a couple medical assistants,” she said, listing the remaining original employees as I took my face from my hands to see her standing over me with my coffee, “And, plus...you have me.”  Her smile was ebullient, and she offered me the warm cup. 

“y-yeah,” I agreed half-heartedly, taking the coffee from her hands, taking my first sip, and immediately noticing she’d put in even more milk than the last time. If I didn’t know any better I’d think she was trying to slowly wean me off coffee, turn me into a milk-drinker. 

She sat back on the desk in front of me, looked down at me with sympathy. It had been a little bit of a shock, after a week of seeing Melissa in the most casual of clothes, in the most revealing of swimwear, to see her in a power suit again. She looked so...put-together, but still dramatically sexy. Her legs, even in her fashionable black pants, were strong and shapely, and even a buttoned-up white blouse and jacket had no chance in hiding the curves of her torso. “Anyway it’s done, they’re gone, they all left last week,” she said, reaching out a hand to cup my face, caress it tenderly, “you don’t have to worry. We took care of it, we have it covered.”

“A-and you knew about th-this, last week? Wh-while we were away?” I asked, voice cracking in my dismay. Though she had told me before, I needed her to repeat it, to explain. 

“Yes, I did,” she clarified, smiling beatifically, “I didn’t want to worry you. I didn’t want to ruin the nice time we were having, spoil your vacation.” She ran her hand through my hair, brushing it off my forehead. “So I didn’t tell you about all the girls that left. Randi took care of a lot of it, and Amelia. And Marisela, she’s been a great help, too.”

I found myself looking at Melissa's wide, soft lap, and sipped again at my milky coffee. Part of me, I have to admit, was relieved that it happened, finally, that the old veterans were more or less all gone, gone with their perspicacity and judgmental glares. Gone and that I didn't have to face them, that I didn’t need to be there for the unpleasantness. Part of me was glad there was someone else that handled things, that did the work. The way Melissa described it earlier, it sounded like there was a shouting match, a throwdown between Randi - who Melissa had left, probably foolishly, “in charge” while we were away - and the remaining old guard.

I could imagine it, Randi locking horns and talking some real shit - the kind Melissa herself would never be capable of - to the old timers, the ones admittedly most essential to the practice. They probably left in disgust, with only a few of the younger women - who had already found themselves gravitating to Melissa’s orbit - staying on. But - Sharon? My Front Desk Supervisor...she’d been with us from the start! Just like Doris and Marjorie from accounting: they’d all be a huge loss. 

“This is all good news, sweetie, a fresh start,” Melissa purred, continuing to assure me that everything was well in hand, “the only people here now are the ones totally committed to helping us grow and change and get better. And don’t worry, we’ll get in some new girls that love the practice, love you as much as we do. We want to keep you safe, secure...” She watched as I nervously finished the last of my coffee. “Do you want another cup?”

“uuuhhhh...sure…” I replied, as already she’d stood, had taken my cup from my hands. I watched her full hips and big rear, blessed with what looked like an extra sway in her tight black pants, as they rolled voluptuously back to her coffee station.

Safety. Security. ”Hey, uh...what’s up with the new security, on the computers?” I asked, as she fixed me another cup, “How much did that cos-”

“Oh, it didn’t cost us anything,” she replied, as once again she poured a more-than-healthy amount of milk into my coffee, “it was all paid for by Lean In…along with the additions, the improvements, the renovations, too.”

She meant her office, of course. This office. 

I was shocked when I had first came around the corner, directed by Marisela back to where we used to have two old storage rooms, only to find an entire new wing, a bright, contemporary hallway where once there was none. Had we taken space from the suite of offices next door?! Who’d okayed this?? How’d it get done so quickly?? We were away for only a week and I come home to...this?!? The hallway led, it seemed, to several new rooms: the first, on my right, looking to be the most impressive of them, behind an elegant set of double doors, a transom window above. On the door, a sophisticated placard: “Melissa Monroe - Office Manager”.

This was Melissa’s new office?!? Flabbergasted even before I first walked in, my jaw totally hit the floor when I opened the door and - I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was beautiful, and it was big. Modern, lots of whites, grays, natural driftwood tones brightened by tons of natural light. There was a sitting area with a voluptuous white couch, a big, comfortable chair and a plush white area rug underneath it all. Huge windows with a seductive view of the city skyline loomed behind an impressive desk at which sat a queen ready to receive her subjects: Melissa, my twenty-something new Office Manager. The whole place looked - and, I realized, as I stepped in - smelled just like her. Immediately - crap, whyyyyy…?? Is this some sort of weird instinct, now? - I felt myself thickening across my hip.

She stood, spreading her arms wide, and with a great swell of her chest in pride asked me: “Don’t you love it???” 

“I-it’s...b-beautiful…” was all I could manage as I walked in, unable to shake the feeling that I was entering dangerous territory, soil that was not my own. A new domain that was undeniably...hers.

She had giggled, and had asked me to sit.

So as I sat here now and drank my second cup of milk-thick coffee I looked around, again. I was beside myself. So, it was all paid for by “Lean In”?? Great, but I never intended for her to have an office!  Previously, she was just stationed in her own area in the main central space, in a semi-private corner but among the other staff. She had had a desk but now - an office?!? And - it’s so much bigger than mine!! By...a lot! It makes mine look like a walk-in closet! Did she realize it?? Was she that oblivious to how emasculating it is seeing a young, attractive employee get a bigger office than you? Or - the more scary thought - was that the point?

“The people at Lean In were so cool, more than happy to pay for it all,” Melissa explained, “as long as it was supporting growth in a company like ours.”

I knew I shouldn’t even ask it...but then I did. “L-like ours?”

She smiled benevolently down at me. “Woman-owned, woman-managed,” she said, as gently as she could, barely containing the giddy, feminist pride that was so obviously bubbling inside her. “Sheryl was the one that okayed the construction,” she added, as if unable to help herself. 

In the subtext, I felt like an afterthought, and was acutely aware of the fragile bones of my pride snapping, just like kindling, inside me. 

“We all thought the changes, the new rooms, the extra money for staff, would be great,” she continued, taking a moment to look around, admire her handiwork, “perfect first steps in our expansion.”

“E-expansion?” 

”Well, of course we need to replace the girls that we lost,” Melissa said, her eyes rolling but then falling back down to me again, “but we should add even more people, make ourselves bigger. It’s part of Lean In...growth, development, success, for women.” She was watching me closely. “Don’t you want to see that?”

”w-well, yes, of course,” I stammered, reflexively, “b-but...wait, what? more people?” Didn’t we have trouble meeting payroll just last week?

”To help revenue, since you’re not bringing in as much anymore - oh, shh don’t feel bad!” she continued, seeing my startled reaction. 

I was doing fine! Seeing patients, billing. It’s the financial mismanagement, the crummy scheduling and day-to-days of you and your...your...people that are-

“It’s okay, it’s okay, we’ll fix it. Lean In gave me some ideas, and I got some more ideas at the conference on how to make it work,” she went on, obviously excited for her new plans, “We should hire more providers - they’ll all have to be women, of course, for Lean In - but Nurse Practitioners, maybe a Nurse Asstha...Attess…”

“Aesthetician?” I helped, even through my disarray.

“Yes, that..! <giggle!> They can all make us a lot of money,” she said, “And they’ll all need support staff, so that’s more people…”

Of course I’d considered all this, adding secondary providers like PAs, APRNs, employees that can bill aside from myself so the practice has more income. We already had one part-time APRN, Vida...when I’d done the numbers before it just never made sense to bring on more. Why would it now? And...an Aesthetician - what did they do? Botox, Laser hair removal, chemical peels? At a Geriatrics practice?

“It sounds...expensive,” I said, knowing I was being too meek but god help me unable to disappoint her, not wanting to upset her by really putting my foot down with a ‘no’. “Expensive” was all I could manage. .

“It’s okay,” she quickly replied, ready with her response, “we have the Lean In money to start...and they'll bring in more than you, pretty quickly.“

Oh my god. It was like I could hear the overwrought strands of my stretched-thin ego actually snapping.

“okay okay okay...we can talk about it,” I said, disbelieving how far this conversation had gotten already. I was such a mess, after the travel and the fight with Sheryl and the bad night of sleep, the return to work and the thing with the computer, her office and now this. But I knew I had to step up, be proactive. Remember the last round of quittings, and the new hires after that? That’s how we got Amelia, and Josie, and that stern lady in accounting. “But first we have to replace the people we lost, just so we can operate,” I said, with as much authority as I could muster, adding, “a-and I want to be more involved this time.”

“Oh, of course, sugar, sure, if you insist,” Melissa replied, sweetly, indulgently, “I’ve already asked Randi to start looking for some girls. Here, why don’t we bring her in...” At that, she turned to her right and pressed the button on an intercom. “You two can come in now,” she announced. 

In less than a moment the door behind me had opened, and I craned my neck to see both Randi and Marisela stepping in. “Hiiiiii….” Randi keened, while Marisela just smiled.  Both were dark of complexion, dark of hair. Both were wearing black, both were in similar outfits. Randi’s pants, though, had flared cuffs while Marisela’s outfit was more figure-hugging head-to-toe. Randi was also wearing higher heels and a clingy silk blouse. Despite myself, I felt my loins respond...I was suddenly in a room with three very attractive women.

Politely, I started to stand, to offer one of them my chair. Melissa, though, immediately stopped me, sticking out her foot onto my seat, between my legs. “No, you sit,” she commanded.

I froze, sat back down, and in the next moment they were behind me, flanking me, one on either side. For some reason, my heart had quickened, and I felt surrounded. “H-hi ladies…” I stuttered, hearing the wimpish uncertainty in my voice, and then the contented purring of Marisela and Randi as they settled warmly behind me, close and confident.

”So... Dr. J agrees,” Melissa began, addressing her attendants, “we need to hire some more girls, and he wants to make sure he’s more involved in the process this time. Think we can do that?”

“Oh, for sure,” Randi answered, her voice entirely too sultry for a Monday morning, “I think we can do that.” She placed her hand on my left shoulder. “Can’t we, Marisela?” 

“Mmhm yeah sure...we can do that,” Marisela agreed, her hand now on my other shoulder. I caught myself swallowing dryly, confused. Marisela, in the past, had never seemed to warm to the new girls, to Randi, to Melissa. In fact, I thought she kinda hated them, in her own dark, quiet, passive aggressive way.

When Randi spoke up, it was again as if my mind was being read. ”With you gone last week, Dr J, with less patients, we girls had a lot of time to get to know one another,” she said, hovering close behind me on my left, “I think we all really started to come together as a team-.” . 

”...and realize how much we missed you,” Marisela chimed in, on my right, coming closer. I could feel the warmth of both of their bodies behind me, and it was doing nothing for my efforts to keep myself from - ugh - slowly hardening in my slacks.

“We had an early meeting this morning, at seven, all the girls,” Melissa said, her eyes on me, “so now we’re all on the same page, the new and old staff.” She cocked her head. “Randi? Would you fix his hair for me?”

“Haha yeah…” Randi replied, running a hand through my hair, arranging stray locks over my left ear.

“I told them all about some of the stuff we talked about on vacation,” Melissa continued, smiling as her friend tended to me, idly.

”L-like...what stuff?” I stammered, recoiling already at the memories, but allowing Randi’s ministrations. The thought of them all know-

”Ohh you remember…‘It can be more like this when we get home, y’know, with all the girls,’” Marisela said, as if repeating word-for-word what Melissa had said to me, that morning out by the pool as she loomed over me with her huge breasts in that white bikini, “It doesn’t have to be just Melissa. You can take care of patients-”

“...and we’ll take care of you,” Randi said, picking up where Marisela left off, in perfect harmony, repeating verbatim what Melissa had promised me, “Let us do all the hard work, make sure everything is easy for you, make sure that you’re comfortable, happy…”

“...that you get everything you need,” Marisela continued, moving her left arm around my neck, tighter. I felt the subtle press of her d-cup against the back of my head. What the fuck was happening?!?

“You remember…” Melisssa purred, leaning in towards me from where she sat, over me, on her huge new desk.

looked after, protected... 

I thought back, in that instant, to the starkly contrasting moment of last night, of my fight with Sheryl.

...supported...nurtured, fed…

Where she, Sheryl...she did what she did. While these girls, this group of women, seemed ready for me, ready for me to land in, ready to catch my fall.

...burped...changed…

“All you have to do is sit back and...let us. Let me,” Melissa said. As my cock pressed uncomfortably into my leg, straining my pants under the hapless cover of my folded arms, I could feel it, imagining it again….a finger trace across my bare belly, like that morning, as I lay on the lounger by the pool, “Let me expand what we can do, let us grow...”

The girls grew closer, like a coven coalescing around me.

But...but...I knew...I knew what I’d said I’d do. That I’d...be better. That I’d...be strong. That I’d...

”I-I th-think-“

”Shhhh...that’s your problem,” Melissa stopped me, before I even began, leaning even closer towards me on the desk, bringing her face nearer to my own, “stop thinking, sweetie, stop worrying…” 

”Yeah, Dr, J, that’s right...” Randi breathed.

:”...that’s for us to do now….” Marisela concluded, “...boss.”

================================

Thanks to user at GTSCity Rivense1 a way's back for the idea on the new office, and of course SaulJinzer for the Melissssy render. Check out his DeviantArt: lots of great Denise Milani giantess stuff and his 3D model for her is top-notch.

[tundrainafrica]

Title: Household Planning (1/2)

Summary:  

"It was Levi's household. The plates were arranged and sorted by color and use, the way Levi liked it. The cabinets and the storage were arranged in a way which would be efficient for cooking, or at least the way Levi would have wanted to cook."

Levi gets sick and Hange is left to navigate household chores.

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Notes: Set in the same verse as  “Rough day”  and “Sugar Rush”

"You're taking a week off?"

Hange wished no one would be there when she dropped by the queen’s office to give the letter. It was painful as it is to fathom what the next week would be like. Making her way to her familiar office in civilian clothing and seeing Historia there in the room only added salt to the wound.

“I’ve asked Armin to take over first. It will only be for a week at the most,” Hange explained.

"No. Take as many days as you need. I don't think you've even taken the day off since the war ended." Historia gave Hange a reassuring smile as she placed the letter back in the envelope.

Hange was sure the queen would give the week off with no arguments. Queen Historia had always had been understanding about any excuses related to family. Somehow, the response had come as a big surprise to Hange. As she walked out of the office and into the courtyard, she felt the late afternoon breeze seep through the cotton of her civilian shirt. It felt oddly nostalgic and Hange was reminded that she had not taken a day off in years.  

“It’s not like I’m gonna be resting anyway.” Hange muttered to herself as she made her way through the courtyard and into the main road to call for a taxi.

"Where to, Ma'am?”

“Paradis Central Hospital.

20 hours earlier

Levi was usually the one who opened the door for her when she got home. That night, she was surprised to find their seven year old Luke by the door waiting for her.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep? Where’s daddy?” Hange asked as she helped her son stand up. The young boy’s eyes were drooping and Hange was sure he would fall asleep as soon as she put him to bed.

“Daddy’s asleep.”

“Really?” Hange glanced at the clock on the mantle as she carried Luke to his room.

It was only a quarter to nine and she had known Levi long enough to know he would never be asleep at that time. In fact, most nights he was the one who would welcome her home. He would be cleaning, organizing or mixing tea in the kitchen while she showered and got ready for bed. She always fell asleep to the clatters of plates and mugs, the clanks of pots and pans and the opening and closing of cupboards. Funnily, she always woke up to them too, a testament to the odd sleeping patterns of her partner.

Luke had fallen asleep in her arms. Hange lay him gently on his bed and put the blanket over him. As she turned off the lights and closed the door behind her, Hange was made aware of the fact that the house was unnaturally silent without the sounds of Levi tinkering with something in the kitchen. She hurried to the bedroom she shared with Levi to find him on the bed, his back to the door.

“Tiring day?”

Levi was a light sleeper. Some nights when Hange did wake up next to him, she could usually elicit a reply or reaction from him with almost any sound no matter how soft. At that moment though, Levi was not responding.

She approached the bed, letting her footsteps resound loudly on the wooden floor under her. He still did not react. Levi was covered up to his chin with blankets. Not wanting to disturb the set up, Hange rested her hand on his cheek, only to recoil at the heat being released.

How was he this morning?  Hange felt a twinge of guilt when she realized she did not remember much of it. She had still woken up to the same banging of pots and pans and a full breakfast. There was nothing out of the ordinary.

"Hey, are you okay?" Hange asked, as she shook him lightly.

"Just… need to rest." Levi did not open his eyes. In fact, his face tensed as he said those words and Hange guessed that that slight effort was already causing him pain.

How much pain was he in?  They were both soldiers in another life and they both had higher pain tolerance than most people. It had set off some alarms inside her and Hange was considering calling a doctor then and there just to be on the safe side.

Am I overreacting? The last time Levi had needed medical attention, they managed in the middle of the forest with a little first aid.

Hange changed into her pajamas and settled on the bed next to him.

She scooched closer to him. The heat emitted from his body alarmed her but Hange reassured herself by focusing on the rhythm of his rough breathing. He was still very much alive.

“Just make sure to tell me if the pain gets worse. ” Hange whispered.

Levi let out what sounded like a whimper. A wave of concern washed over Hange. She put her arms around her partner, hoping that even just a little she could absorb the heat that was resonating from his skin.

She let the rhythm of his breathing lull her to sleep.

                                       Household Planning

When Hange woke up again, the sky was still dark. The sound of birds chirping just outside the window was enough though for Hange to conclude that it was at least late enough that the sun would rise soon.

“Good morning,” Hange whispered. His body was not as hot as it was the night before and Hange found herself squeezing her partner lightly in relief. “You scared me last night.”

“Hange…”  

Hange unwrapped her arms from around her partner and sat up. “You okay?”

Levi curled up into a ball, his arms wrapped around his stomach. “My stomach...hurts…”

Hange had seen Levi in worse situations in the battlefield but never in her life had she seen him so vulnerable. She had brushed off her worry the night before but as she took in her partner, lying curled up like a ball, the ragged breathing and the uncharacteristic whimpers, Hange conceded that she could not take the risk of omission. “Levi. I’m sorry I’m calling a doctor.”

Hange wished Levi had protested the whole set off. At the least, she wished he were conscious or aware enough to even notice a sleepy and confused Luke next by his bedside. He was lying prone on the bed as the doctor put his shirt up and ran his hands through the stomach area.

Hange’s blood ran cold as she watched Levi squirm in pain at lightest touch. She had worked with injured soldiers long enough to know it was a common symptom of internal injuries. The question that lingered was how exactly had it gotten to that point.

“This doesn’t look good Mrs. Zoe. We're going to have to get him to a hospital quick. He might need emergency surgery.”

“Do what you need to do.”

Hange walked out of the room and sat her son down on the living room sofa. She could hear the doctor making his way to the phone, quickly dialing a number and a few seconds later, he was rattling off vitals.

Hange had a fair amount of experience with first aid but the science and technology brought back from Marley was a tall order for her to master and Hange had to admit she probably would have only understood 70% of what the doctor had told the paramedics.

She spent the next few minutes explaining the situation to her son Luke over a quick breakfast and while walking him to school. Luke had ended up late as he had asked too many questions.

Why didn't daddy make breakfast?

Where are they taking daddy?

Are you okay mommy?

By the time Hange made it to the hospital, Levi was being prepped for surgery. He was completely unconscious as they unbuttoned his pajamas and switched it with a hospital gown.

Hange stayed nearby just in case he did wake up through it. She occupied herself by marveling at the improvements made in the hospital and the new developments by Marley. It was her first time back there for at least three years having shifted her focus into railways and street car installations.  A nurse put a needle through his wrist which was attached to a bag on a rack. Hange had forgotten the name of that invention but deduced that it was to get medicine into his system.                          

"How long will he be in surgery?" Hange asked.

The nurse shook her head. "We don't know the extent of the damage yet but internal bleeding of this severity should take at least two to three hours."

Internal bleeding. That usually meant certain death in the field. Hange could not help but think, if Levi had experienced that sickness only just a decade ago, he would have been dead.

"Thank you for all your hard work," Hange said.

She resigned herself to the fact that she would have to wait out until news on her partner came out. She made a brief detour to the outdoor payphone to call sick for the day. Armin would be able to take over anyway, he was very familiar at least with the plans Hange had for the transportation route through the city.

Hange could not shake the feeling that she would be missing out though. Her best ideas always came when she was in the office looking through blueprints and construction updates.

She willed herself to dial the familiar number of her office and explain her current situation.

Armin who had answered the phone was understanding and had given genuine well wishes to Levi. When Hange went back to the waiting room though, she started to reflect on the fact, that maybe the one who did not want the day off was just her.

As she sat back on the chair of the waiting room and looked up at the blank ceiling of the hospital, Hange knew she was miserable.

She was left to do what she had not done in years, sit idly by and wait.

                                        Household Planning

"A burst appendix with abscesses around his stomach area. It was pretty bad, a very high risk of infection. We will need to monitor him for at least a week and he'll be on a strict antibiotic plan for a while."

An appendix. She knew that organ. It was the useless organ yet it caused so much damage in Levi's system. "How long will he be…"

"We set up a room for him. He'll be staying for at least a week since we will need to monitor signs of post surgical infection and possible surgery again. He's not out of the woods yet."

Hange followed the doctor into one of the rooms on the third floor, noting that there were a lot more nurses making their rounds on that floor.

A nurse was there putting the covers over her partner when Hange arrived in. Her stomach dropped as she saw the tubes that all connected to some part underneath the blankets. Even for dying soldiers, she had never seen that type of medical treatment before and maybe if it hadn't been on Levi, she would have been excited at the prospect of seeing first hand the medical technology involved in keeping a patient alive.

At that moment though, her thoughts were all on Levi, how much he remembered, how much pain he was in and most importantly, if he were going to live through it.

Hange walked to his bedside and put her hand underneath the blanket, feeling for his hand. His hand was limp but it was neither too warm or too cold. She grasped his hand tighter, focusing on its warmth as a reprieve from the events of the past few hours.

"Hey four eyes, where's Luke?"

"He's in school…" Hange rubbed her eyes, still adjusting to the waking world.

"His classes are until eleven. It's one."

Hange sat up and look at the clock at the end of the room. "Wait what?" How long have I been sitting here?

Levi was half sitting up on the bed, conscious but groggy, looking particularly surprised. "Did you forget our kid?"

The realization of what had just happened dawned on Hange a split second too late. By then, Levi’s eyes narrowed into an accusing glare, a quick change from that of disbelief only a second ago.

Hange felt blood rush into her face "I’m sorry. A lot has been happening. You're stuck in the hospital… I don't know what to do…"

"Son first. Questions later."

                              Household Planning

The next question, Hange found herself tackling was where to take Luke. It was an obvious logistical choice yet it took Hange enough brain space that she ended up cringing at the state of her mind at that moment.

She had considered leaving him at home but could not come up with someone who could stay with Luke at a last minute request. She knew she would probably be with Levi for a while in the hospital, possibly until late night. It was a risk, leaving a child with a sick parent in a hospital ward but it at least trumped the idea of leaving him alone at home.

Somehow, leaving Luke with a sick, possibly immobile Levi, still seemed to be enough to give her some peace of mind.

"You promise to stay good, okay. Daddy needs rest," Hange said as they stood in front of the door to his room.

"Promise."

The promise was short lived. As soon as the door opened before him, Luke ran towards Levi's bedside and Hange had to grab him as he motioned to jump on the bed next to him.

"Daddy!"

"How was school?"

"I was the only one there. I thought nobody was going to pick me up."

Levi sneaked a glare at Hange with their son's last statement.

"Sorry Luke. Mommy got carried away. Daddy's going to be sick for a while and there was a lot to think about." Hange hugged her son from behind.

"How long will daddy be here?"

"A week at least," Levi answered.

So the doctor at least explained the situation to him.

Levi still looked like he was in pain and Hange wondered how much of his motions were a front he was putting up in front of their son.

"Mommy and Daddy need to talk. Could you give us some space?"

There were nurses all over the floor and Hange was sure at least one of them would have the time to take care of a kid. It was a quick search and within a few minutes of going out into the hallway, she at least had the peace of mind that someone was taking care of her son. The fact the nurse was helping with homework was an added bonus.

"I feel like shit," Levi admitted as Hange entered the room once again.

"You're doing great. I thought you'd be asleep the whole day to be honest."

"I don't think I'd even be able to relax anymore. Imagine waking up to realize my wife forgot about our kid."

Hange gave her husband an apologetic smile. "Just give me a list of everything I need to get done, everyday. While you're here. I'll get it done."

"Don't you have work?"

                                    Household Planning  

By evening, Hange had filed her leave for the week, she had her to do list on hand and Luke was at least distracted with toys she had just bought him from the gift shop next to the hospital.

Her first challenge was dinner. She had the cooking skills but the way everything in the household was sorted out made Hange hesitate to touch anything.

It was Levi's household. The plates were arranged and stalked by color and use, the way Levi liked it. The cabinets and the storage were arranged in a way which would be efficient for cooking, or at least the way Levi would have wanted to cook.

In the cupboard, they were so tightly stacked on top of one another that Hange feared that she would break something just by pulling something out.

Hange sighed, resigning herself to the fact that she was still left shocked by the events of that morning. Less than 24 hours ago, she would not have imagined having to learn to navigate the household all by herself.

I'm gonna need a while to adjust.

"Luke, we're going out to buy dinner."

                                Household Planning  

"What do you want for breakfast?"

"Omelette!"

30 minutes to eight. Luke should be in school by eight.

"It's pretty late for an omelette… What about bread?" In fact, Hange did know Luke liked omelettes. She did not want to admit it to her son yet but although she had spent a fair half an hour looking through the kitchen, she could not find the eggs.

The only food stored places within reason were the bread and the fruits which were displayed in a basket and a bowl on the kitchen table. The bread was covered in cloth, neatly folded when she found it though. As she put back the bread after eating it that morning, she could not recreate that same intricate folding pattern Levi had done.

"There were eggs in the fridge."

Where? Who puts eggs in the fridge?

Hange chose to pretend to ignore it. "Let's just get you to school. What time do I need to pick you up?"

"Two." Luke was avoiding her gaze and Hange could tell he was trying to hide disappointment.

"I'll take note of that." Hange took a pen from her kitchen table and wrote the time on her wrist. "Just eat this for breakfast." She wrapped a piece of bread on paper and dropped it in his bag.

It's my first time having to be the one to cook breakfast, of course there will be a few bumps.

"I didn't know where you put the eggs so I just gave him bread for breakfast."

"Where did you think the eggs were?" Levi asked, not even trying to hide the disappointment in his gaze. Hange inferred that it could have also been from the meager breakfast he was given that morning of pudding and fruit which Levi was mixing as he listened to the developments that morning.

“I looked everywhere, the cupboards, the storage, I even checked our bedroom.”

“It’s in the refrigerator.”

“And that’s what Luke said. I checked it after dropping him at school but it wasn’t there.”

“I put it towards the back so it wouldn’t break if it ends up accidentally falling out.”

The new refrigerators that came from Marley were a welcome improvement to the icebox that most people in Paradis were used to. Having busied herself with other things, Hange never really bothered to learn its different compartments. It looked like Levi did not want her to learn it either. The latter had preoccupied himself buying them at the best bargain when they were finally available and had spent a fair amount of days since they got it, organizing and reorganizing all their spoilable goods.

“Why do you put your eggs in the refrigerator? Even if you leave it out, it won’t go bad.”

“It’s an animal product, you don’t know what it touched.”

Levi had researched his household plan well and Hange only appreciated it more when Levi took a pen and paper and drew the fridge compartments, perfectly from what she had remembered. He explained the contents compartment by compartment, with the rationale for each.

“Why don’t we keep the eggs in the compartments by the fridge door? You cook them everyday.”

“The sudden temperature changes can make the eggs go bad faster.”

“Why put vegetables in the lowest compartment?”

“Vegetables in the drawer below because this compartment has higher humidity levels for fresh produce.”

Levi made sense. Hange had done her fair share of experiments to quickly understand Levi’s logic behind everything. She was still taken aback by how far he had thought ahead and how meticulous the whole process of organizing the refrigerator was for him. It almost made her hesitant to take anything out of the fridge for fear of destroying any part of the intricate plan Levi had set up for all their spoilable goods.

Levi dropped the pen and sighed. “So I’m assuming you didn’t get any cooking done if you still don’t know where everything is. What did you pack Luke for lunch then?”

                                    Household Planning  

Levi probably would not have approved of Luke enjoying a late lunch of two soft serve ice creams and a slice of bread. That was the only way Hange saw herself pacifying the young boy who looked to be on the verge of crying and shouting at his mother when she picked him up from school. At the same time, the reminder from Levi was enough for Hange to at least have enough motivation to remember to show up on time to pick him up.

“Don’t tell your father about this.” She muttered, as she led him through the market. Levi had left her a grocery list before she left to pick up Luke from school. At that point, she was determined at least to not fuck up the grocery shopping.

Another tray of eggs, bread, spinach, oranges, apples. The list was straightforward. When Levi and Hange had planned the list, they considered the easiest things for Hange to prepare, cook, eat and store for the next week while Levi’s fate was still undecided. She only had to buy enough for the two of them at least.

The markets were designed that all types of produce and goods could be caught with one loop around the market. In thirty minutes, Hange had gone through everything on the list.

As Hange made her way to the exit of the market, she felt a tug on her hand. “What are you looking at?” Hange followed her son’s gaze to see the tea and coffee shop on the side.  

“Daddy might want tea.”

“What makes you say that?”

“He only has three more bags left at home.”

                                    Household Planning            

Hange had dreaded the process of storing the food she had bought. She imagined having to empty the fridge and make wild guesses on where Levi would have wanted each product and whether or not she angled them in a way where it would be most convenient for those who opened it or less likely to spill.

Levi had explained a lot of it to her but many parts of it were going quickly into one ear and out the other due to the detail he put into such mundane concepts. She found that the crazy amount of detail and the fact that she possibly left things out, had left her blank at what exactly to do when she opened the refrigerator door.

“Daddy likes the stem facing outwards.” Luke pointed out as he grabbed the spinach from the bag and put it inside the half open vegetable drawer.

“The eggs?”

“You have to push the cheese out of the way when you put the eggs in. Tray opening facing outside...”

Hange at least knew where the fruits and the bread went. She lined up the fruit bowl and the bread basket on the kitchen table and added the fruits she had bought from the market on to the pile.

Luke reached out for the oranges on the top and distributed them evenly towards the edges of the bowl. “Daddy said it might fall if you let them sit unevenly on a pile.”

Hange unfolded the cloth on the bread basket and put the bread inside. She attempted once again to fold it similarly to what Levi had been doing before. Luke scooched closer to her and Hange could only gape as Luke deftly folded it into the same tight pattern she had seen it in that morning.

“Daddy taught you all of this?”

[toku-explained]

The 2 in 1 Eagle Pair

Trigger: Computer systems across Sorafune are infected by viruses, courtesy of Powered Dada. Like wow, that's a deep cut. Haruki and Kengo talk more as Akito uses the rescued Medals to create Z Hyper Keys of his other forms. With the virus cutting off computer systems at other TPU branches, GUTS-Select goes on high alert. An attempt to use old equipment allows them to pick up automated HQ broadcasts authorising autonomous operations. The Nursedessei has it's systems compromised. It's all hands on deck switching to manual, but Dada is managing to auto fire the Nurse Cannon and Nanase has to run a counter virus program, even Ignis is helping, as Kengo and Haruki manage to disconnect the Nurse Cannon's power right before a second shot fires. Dada instead takes control of King Joe to target Nursedessei, forcing Trigger Multi-type and Z Alpha Edge to fight it, after it uses all its forms they switch to using Power-type and Beta Smash. As Nanase gets control of the system back Dada avatars start appearing to attack the crew, when one attacks Akito, Yuzare takes over and destroys it, but then Yuna collapses. Dada appears to fight with King Joe, and Multi-type and Gamma Future hold it off until it tries fusing with King Joe, getting destroyed last second by Nurse Cannon. They switch to Sky-type and Delta Rise Claw, destroying King Joe but Haruki promising they'll repair him. Later Kengo thanks Haruki for his help, again stating how he's come to recognise Akito's help even if the man himself denies it. Akito gives permission to keep the Sparklencs, and so with Beliarok opening a dimensional tunnel, Z places King Joe's parts in a Travel Sphere and flies off, Akito agrees to grab ramen with Kengo. Akito returns to the lab to find Yuna, who can just remember Yuzare's action this time, and begs Akito to explain.

Galaxy Rescue Force: Sora is surprised by the appearance of Justice, bringing a message from Delacion to Queen Izana, who is unfortunately back on Kanon at the moment. Justice opts to wait, leaving Sora feeling awkward until Ribut arrives, impressed to hear Justice is associated with the Universal Justice. When Ribut thanks Justice for their help with Leugocyte Justice explains that Delacions wants to cooperate with the Land of Light and Galaxy Rescue Force in opposing Tartarus. They continue waiting, Ribut also feeling awkward, eventually running away to patrol, Justice eventually deciding to return the next day.

Revice: Wakabayashi demotes Kadota after both failing to defend the ViStamp lab and his failure with the Revice system, and requests Daiji persuade Ikki to fight for them. A caddie, Ibata, is fired by his boss, Araki, who has become irritated after his recent performance, Olteca appears to offer Ibata a ViStamp. Ibata summons tge Kamakiri Deadman. Ikkirefuses the contract, but when news of the Deadman attack appears still takes the belt, accidentally discovering Vice can possess his bike if it's stamped. They arrive and fight, until Vice tries to go eating again, Daiji passes Ikki the Eagle ViStamp, which turns them into the W themed Eagle Genome. Revi starts attacking Vice, who accidentally triggers their combined Eagle form to finish the Deadman, Vice then targets Araki until the transformation is cancelled. Ikki's family encourage him to help Fenix. Araki approaches the Deadmans, and the next day, when Ibara approaches to apologise, summons the Megalodon Deadman. When Vice mentions he told Araki unleashing your Akuma feels good Ikki transforms again to fight him until Daiji arrives to inform him of the Deadman, at which point he gives up the gear. Ikki and Daiji arrive at the golf course, where Fenix are already battling Giff Junior's, Ikki rushing in. He refuses tonuse the belt, since Vice will attack people again, but keeps fighting, until Vice swears to not attack humans anymore, making a contract to do as Ikki says, and Ikki now transforms again. Vice becomes envious of Ikki's Sealing Buster and borrows Daiji's Gunderphone. Ibata grabs Araki when he tries to power up his Deadman, wanting to put things right, and they combine into Rex form to finish the Deadman. Araki and Ibata make up,

Zenkaiger: No one has had any luck finding Mitsuko. Gaon offhandedly suggests she's escaped to some other world, and when Zox comes wanting an explanation for what happened in the last fight, Kaito asks for his help. Ijirude has no idea how Mitsuko escaped, Stacey confirming he'd put her in storage, and the Parallel World Gate was disrupted as she escaped thanks to Kudakk attack, so they don't know where she went, Stacey isn't sure this should have taken him away from the battle. Kaito, Zyuran and Magine join tge World Purates in travelling, with 20 or so worlds they can try, while Magine tries to divine where she is, Flint takes them to Kashiwa Mochitopia, where they meet the local version of Su-san, not having Kashiwa Mochi on your head there is comparable to public indecency. They try Retrotopia, where Su-san can't comprehend the Kikainoids. Kouritopia's Su-san has far less trouble with them, but hasn't seen Mitsuko, but Kaito is happy to see the freed worlds are at peace. Stacey and the Kudakks arrive, revealing Kudaiters gave been sent to other worlds for Mitsuko, as Gaon and Vroon, looking on earth, find. Kaito wants to split up to protect worlds, but Zox says they have to prioritise Mitsuko since the Tojitendo will just rampage until they find her. Su-san on Kinokotopia tries to have them stop attacking the mushrooms, as the Zenkaigers fight Flint declares she found Mitsuko, and Ijirude calls all forces there. When there the team shows they have Mitsuko, and fight. As things progress Stacey captures Mitsuko, but Kaito gets her back. Super Zenkaiser and Super Twokaiser destroy tge enemy forces, then they escape on CrocoDaiOh, Stacey essentially let's them go for Yatsude's sake, but is ordered by Ijirude to summon Black ZyuraGaon, which drags them back to Kouritopia, Zenkaijuoh facing the mecha and defeating it. They return home, and only now have Magine remove her disguise as Magine, since the Tojirendo won't go through other worlds if they think Mitsuko is home, just continue focusing on earth.

Yodonna 2: We start right where we left off, Mizuki distraught over the detective's betrayal, which Yodonna is able to understand due to her own betrayal by Yodon. The realisation that she has experienced sadness causes Yodonna to freeze. In Yodon hell, Hörn and Mose are in a meltdown over Yodonna's escape, Mose impulsively sends himself to earth after her. Yanako visits the Kuchinawa leader, whose eating whil watching his men give Shousuke a beating, Yanako wants to kill Mizuki. Mizuki retrieves the phone while bemoaning Yodonna's current state, but resolves not to burden Juru with her problems. She also finds herself feeling sluggish, unknown to her being due to the soul transfer. Mizuki arrives at the warehouse, where Enoshima is waiting with gang members, claiming his becoming corrupt was only natural. The regular lead goon grabs the phone, while Mizuki talks about how much Shousuke believed in him. The phone wiped, Enoshima reveals Shousuke isn't there, and they can't have her going around with what she knows. Yodonna takes control right as the fight begins, she's now experiencing anger on Mizuki's behalf. She starts fighting the goons, the boss watching via camera surprised by her skill and saying as much to Yanako. When shooting starts she uses a guy as a shield, and uses his gun to kill the goons. After admonishing Mizuki to exercise properly, she beats down the lead goon again. Enoshima puts a gun to her head, she steals it and shoots him in the knee. Mizuki changes back, happy thanks to Yodonna's help, she's really struggling to stay standing now, and Yodonna realises why. Mose approaches her, kills Enoshima for interrupting, then isn't sure what to do with Yodonna given the soul transfer. He intends to cut the hose, but then Yodonna will, disappear and there'll still be trouble for him with Hörn, better to let her steal Mizuki's life and then take her back. The revelation of what Yodonna was doing leads Mizuki to hate her too. At this point Yanako arrives and knocks Mizuki out. Mizuki wakes in the Kuchinawa offices, where Mose is waiting alongside Yanako and the leader, Kujirasaki. Mose has told them everything, and they seem content to wait out her death and let him have Yodonna after. Kujirasaki finds the whole situation amusing, and has Shousuke brought out so he can watch his sister die. As the process nears completion, Yodonna becomes visible and Mizuki starts fading. Yodonna explains the emotions she has learnt from Mizuki, and that she's realised she's just done to Mizuki what Yodon did to her. And so she pulls the tube out and destroys it. She's going to use the physical form she has until she fades to save Mizuki and Shousuke. She beats Yanako quickly. Goons drag Shousuke away, Mose in a panic uses Yodonna's whip to power up Kujirasaki. And then just goes back to Yodon Hell. Yodonna fights Kujirasaki, telling Mizuki to get Shousuke. As Yodonna and Kujirasaki are fairly evenly matched, Mizuki manages to disrupt the goons enough to free Shousuke. As Kujirasaki prepares an energy blast, Yodonna, knowing she's dead either way, swears to keep Misaki alive, and turns her whip into a scythe to block the blast. A final struggle fells Kujirasaki, and Shousuke declares him under arrest. Yodonna is glad to have won in time and collapses. Seeing Mizuki is alive she finds she's crying, Mizuki explaining she's feeling joy, right before Yodonna starts vanishing. Mizuki forgives her, and Yodonna fades gladly. Juru and Tametomo are still waiting for Mizuki, who finally gets back after Juru reminds Tame of his brief crush on Yodonna. Yodonna awakens back in Yodon hell, Hörn telling her that is she'd let him finish he was going to explain that if she could understand the 4 basic emotions he'd let her revive. He's already punishing Mose for running off after her. After reminiscing she asks if she can revive, but after her running off he's not going to allow it anymore. Unless she learns one more emotion, Love. She wonders who might teach her that...Tametomo perhaps?