#I absolutely stole this joke from somewhere but for the life of me I cannot find the original

[vaeciorolefrex]

I don't know why I drew this

[realityhelixcreates]

Beta, Theta, and Me Chapter 10: Territorial

Chapters: 10/?

Fandom: Thor (Movies), Avengers (Movies) Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Relationships: Loki x Reader (But not right now),Drug Use

Characters:  Loki(Marvel) Additional Tags:  A/B/O, Sorta, More Of An Exploration Of  Life And Self Expression Within An A/B/O Framework, Loki Does What He Wants, But Loki Does Not Actually Do What He Wants, Antagonistic Bosses,  Loki Has A Throne Now, But It’s Not What He Wanted

Summary: You learn the reality of not being alone in the universe

You hunkered down in your soft, fold-out futon couch, shaken by what you now knew.

They were invaders. Loki, Thor, all  the Asgardians, an invading force.

But they weren't invading this planet.

You didn't think you'd ever forget the blazing triumph in Loki's eyes, as he explained the plan. He might as well explain it to you. There was nothing you could do about it. There was nothing you would do about it. And Loki knew it.

Rain slammed into the glass like stones, flung by screaming wind. It had been pouring all day, even before you'd served Loki his breakfast.

“Did someone piss off your brother or what?” you joked. Loki swiftly grasped your hand before you could crush his pill for the morning.

“Yes, and I would have my mind clear when he comes to visit. I will bear the pain until afterwards.”

Thunder cracked the personable atmosphere of breakfast.

“You should retire to your rooms for a while.” Loki said. So you gathered up what was left of your meal and returned to your apartment. You had a nice little table in front of a window, where you sat with your orange juice and pancakes, watching the sheeting rain.

The sound of the Bifrost roared down louder than the rain. Thor had come by to discuss things with Loki several times now, you hiding out in your room each time. You weren't sure why you were never allowed to be seen-perhaps servants in Asgard were supposed to be invisible or something. Or perhaps Loki wasn't actually supposed to have you. Oh well, it wouldn't be the first time you were living somewhere illegally.

The two of them talked very loudly, almost shouting, but it didn't sound like a fight. It sounded more like enthusiasm, rising and falling, the foreign words and unfamiliar cadence. Thor stayed for several hours, keeping up their lively discussion, but you didn't once hear either of them laugh. Whatever their enthusiasm was about, it probably wasn't a cheerful thing.

You relaxed in your apartment, reading a battered old book while they hashed out whatever they were working on, making yourself a light lunch while the rain weakened and petered out. The Bifrost roared again, just as the sun struggled out of the clouds.

Not long after, you heard Loki calling for you, always as if he were right beside you. He was waiting at the table when you exited back out into his miniature kingdom, eyes bright with the exercise of thought. He waited patiently while you prepared fresh tea for him, and mixed it with his medicine, drinking it without complaint. Thor's Alpha scent hung around the place, somehow harsher than Loki's. You were tempted to dampen it with a scented spray, but you knew Loki didn't like them. 'Stinking, chemical concoctions' he called them.

You did chores around the penthouse, as he went over the contents of a notebook. You knew his medicine was taking effect when he suddenly started talking.

“How do you feel about this building?” he asked abruptly, shoving the notebook at you.

“How do I feel about it? Uh, well, let me see.” You took the notebook, full of runes and sketches. The sketch of the house Loki indicated appeared to you like a man-made hill, a cluster of little domes around a large dome, with no windows but several doors. It had a vintage science fiction kind of look, as if someone had designed a Hobbit hole for the far future.

“It's cute.” you said. “Looks like some kind of earth house?”

“Not quite.” he said, smug amusement coloring his voice. “Would you live in such a house?”

“Sure, I'd live in any kind of house. A house is a house, and I'm never gonna be picky about that. I do wonder about the inside lighting, since there's no windows.” “Oh, it would be lit by magic. Magic light it so easy to make that many forms of magic create light as a by-product! It would be bright as day on the inside. There could be no windows, because the structure would be partially underground, and the outside walls would be about nine feet thick.”

“Wow. I knew earthworks need thick walls, but that seems like kind of a lot.”

“But would you still live in such a home?”

“Well yeah. Still a house, after all. Look, I know you're high as a kite right now, but this is about something, isn't it? Is it what Thor was here to talk about?” “Insolent thing. I'm not that high. Am I? No, of course not. But yes, this is about our meeting this morning. Twice has my brother come bearing distressing news about the future of Asgard, and this time, we began planning. These houses are a part of it.”

“Is something wrong with Asgard? Are you guys gonna be okay?”

“Oh yes, we will be fine. I foresaw something like this happening, and my brother's pride is sorely bruised, but our people are in no danger. You see, the government of Canada set aside some land for Asgard to settle upon-a handful of islands off the coast of the larger island of Nova Scotia. This seemed quite generous at first, and quite in line with the kindliness that country is famed for. I could have told Thor that it would prove somehow false. If not humanity itself, then the governing bodies of humanity certainly are the least trustworthy things in this whole great galaxy.”

“What did they do?” you asked. “Are they trying to bilk you? Make you pay for it all? Force you into debt?”

“No, no. They gave us the land so that the native peoples they stole it from could never get it back. Settler's laws, or some such.”

“That's awful!” The disillusionment led straight to disgust, and no small amount of disappointment. Because Canada did seem so nice, and maybe it was just a form of American wish fulfillment to believe that Canada was somehow 'better' than the States. But realistically, both countries had been formed in the same way: European settlers sweeping from one coast to the other. And the only way it seemed that they knew how to do that was to smash their way through whoever was between the Here, and the There.

“Indeed.” Loki sneered. “Thor is enraged at the sheer ingratitude. Many times he has been involved in the protection of your backwater globe, and these fools seek to use him as a pawn. I may occasionally want to stab his face off, but he is still a god, and we are all of us above the petty greed and power games that humans play against one another.”

“What are you going to do?”

“It's very simple. We are going to secure the land, build a legal cage so tight that it cannot be taken away, make it ours completely, and without question. Then, when we have gathered the necessary supplies, we will turn the land over to the people it was stolen from, and Asgard will leave. We will invite them to live among us in the interim, and likely leave a small garrison behind to guard against Canadian invasion.”

“Ha!” you burst out. “Good! Fuck those guys! But where is Asgard going to go then? I can't think of anyplace that isn't already full of people. Except maybe Antarctica? It'd be pretty hard to live there though.”

“Asgard has the technology to make practically any rock a paradise.” Loki bragged. “But we will not be moving to Antarctica, no. We will not remain on Earth. No, Earth had it's chance, and chose betrayal. We will be moving to the planet you call Mars.”

“What? Mars? Like Mars, Mars?” you sat, shocked, the notebook in your lap. “You can't just...”

Loki silenced you with a thin, smug smile.

“Whyever not?” he asked. “Who lives there? What lives there? Nothing, and no one. We would not be pushing anybody out of their homelands, nor posing a danger to any ecosystem. There is nothing there but remote controlled toys. No one has claim over it. I know there is at least one fool who fancies himself a genius, and has convinced many that he owns the place, but how is he going to get there? In one of his constantly exploding vehicles? No, Earth has no power over Mars, and soon it will be ours. We are the ones who can make it a livable land. Humans simply don't have the technology or experience. Can you harness Bifrost energy to get the core and mantle moving again, to create a magnetic field? You do not. Can you live safely on the surface for long enough to get anything done? You cannot. In fact, for humans to be safe on Mars, you would have to hide behind around nine feet of Martian soil.”

“Nine-like the house? That design is for a Mars house?”

“Clever thing. Yes, it is for a Mars house. Part of a community partially above and partially below ground, connected by buried roadways. A city adapted to the planets unique characteristics. We will alter the landscape, reignite the magnetic field, cleanse the soil of radiation, perhaps use that as a secondary energy source for a while. The planet is rich in water: this whole system is so rich in resources that it would absolutely be under attack at all times if more people knew about it.

But you have us now. We know how to render empty planets useful. Once we have made Mars into our new Asgard, we will turn our eyes to the great potential of the one you call Venus.”

“You're gonna take Venus too?” you exclaimed.

“Take? Again, who owns it? No one. There is no one to take it from. Imagine thinking that just because you see something, just because you name it, that somehow means you own it. No one lives there, and there are no habitats to destroy, so why does this offend you so?”

You couldn't really answer. Everything he had said was true. And yet, you still somehow felt a sort of proprietary nebulous collective ownership over the planetary system that was your species only home.

“Do you feel entitled to the asteroids as well? The comets? The moons and atmospheres of the giant planets? The very dust of the stellar cloud? Your species once shared this backwater world with multiple other human species, but now that you are the only ones left, you've forgotten how to share with anyone.”

“Is it sharing? You can travel around better than we can. Will there be anything left by the time we're able to travel like you?”

He chuckled, the condescension like a thick layer of butter over bread.

“Oh, I understand now. You're so used to the overarching greed and cruelty of your own people, that you can't imagine that we could be any different. We aren't going to lock you little humans away from Mars, or Venus, or any other place. Indeed, why do you think we've been studying how thick a wall is needed for human safety on Mars? It is all but certain that humans and Asgardians will live side by side throughout this star system. You will join us sooner or later. It is inevitable. The instant the perceived challenge is issued, your desiccated space programs will flare back to life. You humans are incredibly competitive, though in a different way than Asgardians. We are more individual, but you drift towards teams. It will be interesting to see how the competition plays out.”

“You're looking forward to this?” you asked.

“I am counting on it.” he said. “Now, do you think that house would be big enough for you? It will be roughly three times the size of your current apartment, and partially underground. Would that bother you? Would you need more space?”

The notebook slipped to the floor. “You can't mean...” you whispered.

“Give it some thought. It won't be for a while yet, but I'm pretty sure it will be within your lifetime. Would you like to be the first human on Mars? Beat that so-called genius to the red planet? See us kickstart the world?”

It was a fantastic dream. Impossible. Completely impossible. But could you? “I-I don't know...”

“Think on it. But for now, I think this medicine is making me weary. I am losing track of time and thought. Take me to the window, and sit with me there.”

You did, making yourself comfortable on your special cushion, as he rambled about Asgardian building techniques, methods of energy storage, and how to contain oxygen in their hypothetical underground cities while working on building a sustainable atmosphere. He talked about Mars as if it were no more than a challenge, explaining all the resources that made the planet such a likely candidate for the transformation process. How they could alter the thin atmosphere with Thor's power to create ozone, split molecules to create oxygen, how to decontaminate irradiated soil, and even enrich it with naturally occurring resources. You didn't understand much of it, but the gist was that they had done this before, and only lacked the resources to build the tools they needed. As soon as they had that, there were no limits. According to Loki, it could all be done very fast.

And he was very fixated on the idea of you coming with him, seemed to have a very romanticized view of the human drive to explore. In some ways, he wasn't wrong. The thought of being the first human to travel to the red planet, to walk on its surface, to live there-it was thrilling. It was a dream humankind had harbored for a long time.

On the other hand, as far as you understood, Mars was kind of a shithole.

Yes, Loki claimed that his people could change that, prattling on about groves, and grasslands, and even tropics. He was also high. He could just as easily be talking nonsense.

Atmosphere notwithstanding, Mars was farther from the sun than Earth was. Wouldn't it always be colder? You could envision, after a lot of work and change, the planet hosting the kinds of things that grew in Siberia maybe. Lichens and short, scrubby grasses, possibly even conifers. Maybe seaweed, in the great seas and lakes he described the icecaps filling up.

But delicate tropical flowers, and big, soft fruits, and plants that needed three hundred days of strong sun and sweltering temperatures to thrive? No way. Better to leave the jungles to Venus.

Which was apparently part of the plan. The thinning of the atmosphere of Venus, would contribute to the thickening of the atmosphere of Mars. It involved even more technobabble that you couldn't grasp, but Loki was very sure about the viability of transferring resources throughout the solar system. From atmosphere, to water, to metals, to trace elements, Asgardians apparently knew how to do it all. It almost made you believe it.

Loki babbled like a bird all through dinner and the evening, and you were almost glad to be sent off the warm his bed. Your brain was exhausted, but he was as energetic as ever.

Stripped of your uniform, you snuggled into his luxurious bed, still trying to resolve the image of Loki-lover of opulent baths, rich clothing, and indulgent bedding-with that of an excited, daring, and rough living pioneer. You drifted off to a daydream of him, in a pith helmet and beige jodhpurs, standing majestically in a jeep that kicked up the Martian dust behind it...

                                                                               ******

...And awoke to Loki sniffing your hair.

He was pressed all alongside you, snuggled up with an arm thrown over your waist. And he was sniffing your hair.

He must have noticed a change in your breathing or physical pliancy, because he withdrew his arm immediately.

“Ah.” he whispered. “The jig is up, as they say.”

You scooted quickly away from him.

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” you demanded.

“Forgive me.” he said, yawning. “You just seemed so peaceful. I thought it a shame to wake you.”

“Did you turn off my alarm?”

He had the grace to look mildly ashamed.

“That...might have happened.”

“And there was nothing you could do but try to cop a feel?”

“I prefer to think of it as a friendly cuddle.”

“Well don't! Don't think you can just do whatever you want with me!”

“I shan't, I promise. As your master, I promise, I will not again overstep the bounds of our agreement. As my servant, I ask your trust.”

“...Maybe tomorrow.”

Face burning fiercely, you exited the bed, and hurried for the door. Your clothing was on the other side of the bed-the other side of Loki. In the dark, he might or might not getting a good look at your underwear clad rear, depending on how well Asgardians could see in the dark, so you booked it out of his room, across the hall, and into yours before he could say anything.

You threw yourself onto your futon, huddled down in your nice new blankets, and shivered. Your trust? He asked for your trust? He asked you to leave everything you knew, your whole world, to walk the distant sands of Mars? Something you couldn't even safely do until the planet had been transformed? He dared to lure you into a false sense of security in his sweet-smelling bed, and then ask for your trust? How much of your life were you willing to give?

[freddiesaysalright]

A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes - Chapter 5

Gwilym!Prince Charming x Reader

Summary: After losing your parents, your step-family makes your life impossible. That is, until Prince Gwilym holds a ball. It’s your one chance for everything to change.

Word Count: 4.1k

Tag List: @psychosupernatural, @someone-get-a-medic, @bensrhapsody, @deakyclicks, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession, @minigranger, @crazyweirdocalledfriday, @the-moving-finger-writes, @assembledherethevolunteers, @rose-writes-prose, @queenlover05, @26-7-49, @drowsebaby, @im-an-adult-ish, @queen-paladin, @rogerina-owns-me, @mirkwoodshewolf, @namelesslosers, @headl0ng, @captvianswaan, @folietracksix​, @baltimoresweethearts​, @killer-queen-87​, @haileymoreolikestupid, @itsametaphorgwil​, @misslolasworld​, @whitequeen-ofwillowgreen​

A/N: It’s the grand finale! Thank you again for all the lovely responses to this fic! I can’t believe I’m almost done with the Disney AUs already! also i barely proofread this because i was so excited to post it so if you see a typo no you didnt

Warning(s): brief descriptions of abuse

Moodboard

Prologue  Chapter 1  Chapter 2  Chapter 3  Chapter 4

Chapter 5 here we go!!!

Frank and his daughters came home about an hour after you did. You were already back in your servant clothes and waiting by the door. You took their cloaks and bags, and began hanging them on the rack in the main hall. 

“How was your night?” you asked politely. 

“It was a splendid evening, Y/N,” Frank answered. “More than you could ever hope for.”

“I’m sure it was,” you returned, holding back a smirk. If only he knew. 

“I’m relieved to see you have not stolen anything else from my wife’s closet,” he sneered.

You shook your head. “No, sir. I wouldn’t dream of it. I’ve been thoroughly educated.”

“Very good,” he said, seeming displeased that he couldn’t goad you. 

But nothing could spoil this night. It was perfect. 

“Is there anything you need before going to bed?” you asked. 

“I’m fine, but you’ll of course help the girls get changed,” he said. 

You nodded again. “Absolutely.”

He watched you suspiciously as you followed your step sisters up the stairs. You were calm. Too calm. And you were humming, which you didn’t normally do. Plus the tune was something he had heard somewhere - but no event would have had you in attendance. His frown deepened. Something was up.

***

Gwilym returned to the palace two hours later, empty handed and broken-hearted. Rami and Ben were waiting on the steps for him, but as he walked up, he only shook his head. They sighed, disappointed for their friend. Thankfully, the remaining guests had all gone home. 

“Sorry, mate,” Ben said. 

“There was no sign of her?” Rami asked. 

“No,” Gwilym said. “Even the carriage tracks just seemed to disappear. It was like she just vanished.”

“So, all we’ve got to go on is the shoe?” Ben wondered, holding it up. 

Gwilym had only entrusted his best friends with it, and they had kept it from his father. 

“It’s made of glass,” Gwilym said. “Which means it only fits her.”

“So what are we gonna do?” Rami asked. “Try the shoe on every woman in the kingdom?”

“Only the single women,” Gwilym said, as if it were obvious.

Rami and Ben shared a surprised look. 

“I hope you’re joking,” Ben said. 

“Far from it,” Gwilym replied. “I’m going to find that girl, and I’m going to marry her.”

Rami sighed. “Very well, then. But let’s start in the morning.”

“Thank you both,” Gwilym said, relieved. They had every reason to leave now. Both had duties at home, and had done what was socially expected. With the ball over, there was no obligation to stay. “Really.”

“Of course we’re gonna help you,” Ben said. “But I’m with Rami. Starting tomorrow.”

“You guys go on up, I’ll be right behind you,” Gwilym insisted. 

His friends shrugged, but did as he requested and went inside. Gwilym remained, holding that glass piece of you carefully in the crook of his arm. He looked out into the night sky, hoping somehow you could feel his desperation. 

“I am coming for you, my darling,” he said quietly. 

***

You yawned as the sun peered into your room through your curtains. You were feeling unusually light this morning. Like you were still floating just above the ballroom floor. With a contented sigh, you stretched and forced yourself out of bed. Frank and the girls would be needing their breakfast soon, but you knew you had a little extra time today. They’d certainly have a bit of a lie in after the late night. 

You threw your dress and apron on. You did a spin around your room, giggling as you imagined Gwilym there with you. Then you had to slow to a stop. It was a fantasy, nothing more. One glorious night. But now it was time to return to reality and your true life. Still, you could cling to the dream for one morning.

Humming to yourself, you put the pot on to boil and began prepping plates for breakfast. You set a pan atop the stove to start some sausages when you heard the jingle of a bell. You looked at the wall. It was coming from Eleanor’s room, so you guessed she was up. You asked Elsie to start the food and went back upstairs to get your step sister dressed. When you reached the landing, you saw Frank emerging from his room, already dressed. 

“Good morning,” you said kindly. 

“Y/N, what did you get up to last night?” he asked. 

“Why, nothing, sir,” you said. “I cleaned up, as you instructed, changed clothes, and got a head start on some other chores. When those were done, I occupied myself by reading.”

He seemed skeptical. “I see. I hope you weren’t reading anything too fanciful. You mustn’t fill your mind with...unrealistic dreams and fantasies.”

Your brow furrowed with confusion. What was he implying?

“No, sir,” you said. “I try to keep everything practical.”

“Good,” he said. “Now get to work.”

You nodded, a bit perplexed, but continued into Eleanor’s room.

***

In the morning, Gwilym was the first up. He hardly slept at all. He wrote a decree for his father to send out, that he and Ben and Rami would be making the rounds through town and the countryside to find the owner of the missing shoe. They would begin today, and search until the prince had found his lost love.

To his shock, the king agreed to this. He read over it at the breakfast table, nodding at each point. The ladies were to try on the shoe and if it fit, it must be the girl who Gwilym met at the ball.

“Very well,” he said. “You’ll begin today?”

“Yes,” Gwilym said. “I want to find her as soon as possible.”

“Alright, son,” the king replied. He looked at the prince and offered a sincere smile. “And best of luck.”

Gwilym beamed. “Thank you, Father!”

And so, they began their search within the palace, where the out of town noble guests were staying. Gwilym had his doubts about those girls because he met them before you even came through the door. But he knew everyone deserved a fair chance. When the shoe fit none of those women, they made their way into town, with a few guards along for protection. 

***

Frank received a letter from the palace early in the morning. He looked it over and you saw a flash of...something cross his face. You couldn’t place the emotion though. It seemed almost like a glimmer of hope. His eyes glanced over at you before quickly turning to his daughters. 

“Girls, get yourselves looking nice,” he said. “We’ll be having visitors from the palace this afternoon.”

“The palace?” you questioned, without meaning to, but you could hardly help yourself. 

“Yes, but that isn’t any of your business, Y/N,” he snapped. “Get my daughters ready and then proceed with your chores as usual. You are not to make your presence known while the visitors are here.”

You nodded apologetically. As you made your way back to the kitchen, you wondered if the visitors Frank referred to could be Gwilym and his father. Was he looking for you? Something in your heart told you he was, but you hardly even dared to hope. Such a thing was the stuff of dreams. And yet, the ball seemed like a dream too, but it was as real as the tea kettle you carried. You began devising a plan. 

As the day wore on, you completed your chores quickly. You wanted to prepare yourself as well. Your gut was telling you Gwilym was on his way to take you away from here. And you had all the proof you needed in that slipper that was hidden beneath your bed. So when you finished sweeping the entrance hall, you ran up to your room to get it. Only, when you opened your door, you came to an abrupt stop. Frank was sitting on your bed, holding the slipper by the heel. One wrong move of his fingers and it would fall, risking a break. 

“Well, well, well,” he said darkly. “I had a feeling you had made your way to the ball. You’ve been far too dreamy to have had as dull a night as you claim.”

Your heart rate quickened. 

“That’s mine,” you said, feeling childish as the words left your mouth. “It was given to me.”

Frank laughed humorlessly. “Oh, likely story. I suppose this is another one of my wife’s things you stole.”

“You cannot stop me from this,” you said, ignoring the accusation. “The prince loves me.”

“Against his better judgement, I believe that’s true,” he admitted.

You blinked, surprised at your step father’s nonchalance about this. Did that mean he would accept it? No. There had to be something else he was getting at. 

“As it is, though,” he said. “You’re spoken for.”

You frowned as your stomach dropped. 

“What are you talking about?” you asked. 

“You’re mine, Y/N,” he said, getting to his feet and straightening his jacket with his free hand. “And mine alone.”

A chill ran down your spine. Was he really saying what you thought he was saying?

“I’m not a slave, Frank,” you said. “I am free to do this.”

“I do not intend to make you my slave,” he said. “I intend to make you my wife.”

Your body went rigid as the blood ran out of your face. The very idea made your stomach churn. The thought of being his wife, sharing his bed, bearing his children...you nearly heaved right there in front of him.

“No,” you said firmly. “I won’t.”

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice,” he said. 

“It’s sick!” you cried. “I’m your daughter!”

“Step daughter,” he said. “I will have this estate, Y/N. You will do for me what your mother could not. My son will be the true and rightful heir, and start a new line.”

“Are you not happy with the children you have?” you wondered, completely rocked to your core. “Why do you insist on a son?”

“Sons are the only useful offspring,” he scoffed. “Daughters are just mouths to feed until you can marry them off, and even then, what’s theirs will never belong to their family. It belongs to their husbands. Well, I am not going to lose everything because my previous wives were too weak to give me what I want.”

“I will not,” you refused again. “I’ll run away.”

“And leave behind your home?” he taunted. “The one your father built so lovingly with your mother?”

“It will no longer be a home to me if I am trapped in such a marriage,” you said. 

“I’m not giving you a choice, Y/N,” he sighed. “I’ll keep eyes on you everywhere, I’ll lock you in your room, whatever it takes. Or, you can submit to me now and become mistress of this house as you were born to be.”

“I’ll die before I marry you,” you spat. “I’ll die before I bear any child of yours. I’ll -”

“No need to go on,” he said. He was being alarmingly calm about this. “I know the rest. But you will marry me, Y/N. You will have my son, and you’ll do it all without complaint. Just as you have with everything I have ever given you.”

You blinked again. So everything he’d put you through was a test? A way to manipulate you into obeying his every command? He was...grooming you? Your stomach gave another lurch.

“But first,” he said. “We will need to squash your dreams of Prince Gwilym.”

“What do you -”

He cut off your question by hurling your slipper into the wall. It shattered with a crash, which drowned out your anguished cry. You sank to your knees, hopeless. 

“There now,” he said. “I’m only teaching you the harsh lesson of reality.” 

Tears fell freely down your cheeks. You heard loud knocking at the front door, but barely registered it. 

“That’ll be him,” Frank said. 

You snapped to your senses and started to rise for one last desperate escape attempt, but Frank was faster. You felt the blow of his palm against your cheek before you even saw it coming. You fell to the ground, face throbbing. You wanted to scream, or cry, or swing back at him, but you were completely numb from the shock. You couldn’t feel anything but the sting on your skin.

“Do not resist me again, Y/N,” Frank warned. 

With that, he walked out of your room, and you heard him turn the lock. You were trapped. You curled into a ball on your floor and wept quietly. 

***

Gwilym was relieved when the door finally opened. This was the last house of the day. He saw a man there, whose smile was...unconvincing to say the least. He bowed. 

“We are happy to see you, Prince Gwilym,” he said. “I am Frank Tarleton, and I believe one of my daughters is the girl you’re searching for.”

Gwilym raised a brow. “But you don’t know which?”

Frank blinked, taken aback, and then laughed an empty sort of laugh. “Good one, your highness. Please, come in.”

Gwilym looked at Ben and Rami who both shrugged. They followed Frank inside and into the drawing room, where two young women sat on the couch, looking nervous. Ben explained everything, with Frank nodding eagerly along. Something about the man struck Gwilym as slimy. He was too polite, too eager to please, and it seemed even his own daughters were made uncomfortable by him. Gwilym sighed. 

“Let’s get this over with,” he mumbled. 

He was beginning to lose hope. Who was left, if not these girls? And yet, neither of them struck him as the one he was looking for.

***

You listened carefully at your door, not daring to make any more noise. If Frank returned, he might do worse than strike you. But you could listen to what was happening downstairs. 

It was a bit maddening to hear, though. To be so close to Gwilym now, and yet so far. To be a prisoner now in your own home was worse than being a servant. And the worst part was seeing the proof of your identity lying in pieces beside you. You felt like the slipper. Broken. Completely in pieces. Like your dreams too. 

You heard the front door open and close again. You went to your window and watched Gwilym mount his horse, his friends on either side of him, and trot away toward town. Was that truly the last time you would see your love?

It couldn’t be. Now, you could hear Frank’s familiar footsteps coming back up the stairs. You knew you had to make a break for it as soon as he opened the door. You braced yourself. You had no time to pack anything, no time to grab money or valuables. You would have to break away with nothing but the clothes on your back and a prayer. 

You watched the doorknob turn, feeling as if everything was in slow motion. It creaked slowly open and Frank’s body appeared in the door frame. He reached for you, but you ducked under his arm, darted down the hall, flew down the stairs, and straight out the front door. 

You ran. As fast as your legs could carry you, not even daring to look back to see if Frank was in pursuit. You just hurtled toward town, hoping that anyone could help you. You would give up your home, and everything you knew - you would even give up your life - before marrying Frank. You had to escape, even if it meant becoming a beggar. 

You burst through the back door of the tavern, tears streaming down your cheeks, and chest heaving. Flying through the kitchen, you threw open the doors to the dining area and found Zelda behind the bar. She looked up at the commotion you were making, took in the sight of you, and her brow furrowed. 

“Zelda, please!” you cried, frantic. “I need help!”

You went to her, and she took you in her arms. 

“Y/N, what’s -”

She didn’t get to finish her question before Frank came barreling through. He must not have been far behind. You let out a scream. Zelda pushed you behind her and you cowered at her back. She put her arms out to shield you further. 

“Zelda, remove yourself if you know what’s good for you,” Frank threatened. 

“Don’t, Zelda, please!” you begged. “Don’t let him take me! He’s going to force me to marry him! Please!”

She stiffened in front of you. “Oh, no you don’t, Frank. I will not stand by and let you do this.”

“Stand back or you’re fired,” he warned. 

“I don’t care,” she shot back. “I won’t let you have her!”

“I’m afraid it’s not up to you,” he returned harshly. 

He grabbed her by the shoulders and tried to move her, but Zelda was a stout woman with considerable strength. She resisted him, taking hold of his biceps and forcing him back several steps. Her advantage was clearly gained by the element of surprise. 

“Run, Y/N!” she cried. “Get out of here!” 

Panicked, you leapt over the counter and wrenched the door open. You threw yourself out of it, trying to ignore the sounds of the struggle behind you. You darted into the street and sprinted as fast as you could away from the tavern. You had no idea where you would go from here - but you could not stay and be forced into a lifetime of Frank. 

You glanced back. To your horror, you saw that Frank was emerging from the tavern and had spotted you right away. With a gasp, you turned back around and sped up. Only, as you turned, you didn’t realize what was in front of you. You ran right smack into a man’s back. The force of the collision put you on your rear in the dirt. 

Wincing, you looked up. Your jaw dropped. It was Gwilym!

He met your gaze and froze as well. For a moment, you were both back at the ball, when he’d come up to you on the stairs and asked you to dance. He recognized you instantly. 

“It’s you,” he whispered. 

You opened your mouth to respond, but a sudden stinging on your scalp caused you to cry out instead. Frank had fisted his hand around your hair and dragged you to your feet. 

“Your highness!” he gasped, noticing Gwilym. “I do apologize. My servant here has forgotten her manners.” He looked at you and continued through gritted teeth. “And her place.”

He yanked your hair on the last word for extra emphasis. Gwilym’s chest tightened as he watched Frank manhandle you. He briefly imagined himself drawing his sword and plunging it right into Frank’s chest, but he refrained. 

“Release her,” he ordered. 

Frank looked at the prince, bewildered. 

“I’m sorry?” he questioned.

Gwilym’s expression darkened. “I told you to release her.”

Frank hesitated. 

“Now!” Gwilym shouted. 

You relaxed when Frank finally let go. Your scalp still itched with soreness. You desperately wanted to throw yourself into Gwilym’s arms but you were still afraid of what Frank might do. You did take a cautious step back. 

“Your highness, I’m dealing with an unruly servant girl,” Frank said. “But she is mine and I may do with her as I please.”

Your lip trembled and you shook your head. 

“That’s not true,” you sobbed. “You know it’s not, I’m your step daughter and you’re forcing me to -”

“SILENCE!” Frank roared, and raised his hand.

You shrieked and covered your face with your arms. But the blow didn’t come. You peeked out, lowering your shield just barely. Gwilym had taken hold of Frank’s wrist. Rami and Ben, who you just noticed being present, both had their hands on their swords. Now was your chance. 

“Don’t let him take me back,” you begged again. “Please, your highness, don’t let him.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Zelda trotting up the street. She halted when she took in the scene before her. 

“Sir Tarleton,” Gwilym said, releasing Frank’s arm. “We were at your home and I asked you if you had any more women residing there besides your daughters. You lied.”

“It wasn’t a lie, really,” Frank argued. “Just an omission. You see, there’s no way this girl was at the ball when I forbid her from going.”

“If that’s true, then you are still in trouble,” Gwilym said. “All eligible maidens were to attend.”

“She’s only a servant -”

“I know you’re lying, Tarleton,” Gwilym interrupted. “Now stand down.”

Frank stepped away from the prince, shooting glances between him and you. Gwilym turned to Ben.

“The slipper please, Ben,” he said. 

“No!” Frank protested, starting toward you, but Rami stopped him.

Ben handed Gwilym the slipped you’d left behind on the staircase. You wiped your cheeks, clearing away the dirt and tears, and held your prince’s gaze. You smiled at him.

“I knew you were the girl from the tavern,” he said gently. “I knew I recognized you.”

“And the cemetery,” you reminded him.

“Yes,” he chuckled. “I remember.”

“How did someone like you even notice someone like me?” you wondered, amazed. 

“Because you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever met,” he told you simply. “Inside and out. And from that moment in the cemetery I saw what you truly are - a princess.”

You flushed, looking bashfully at the ground. 

“I’m not really a -”

“Maybe not by birth,” he said. “But in heart.”

You met his eyes again. Those eyes that from the first time you saw them, told you the kindness of this man’s soul. 

He knelt down onto one knee, holding out the slipper. It made you ache for the lost one Frank smashed, but you were relieved that you had left one behind at the palace. You toed off your boot and raised your leg. Ben stepped closer to help you balance and you shot him a grateful look. Then, you slid your delicate foot into the glass slipper. It fit perfectly. 

Gwilym’s face lit up like a firework. Ben let go of your hand as Gwilym laughed, took you up in his arms and spun you around. You giggled with joy as well. He lowered you gently to the ground.

“Now, will you please tell me your name?” he asked. 

You chuckled. “It’s Y/N.” 

“Y/N,” he repeated, and cupped your cheek in his palm. “How beautiful.”

“No!” Frank shouted again, and this time Rami had to grab him to stop him. “No! You cannot take her from me!”

“The girl does not belong to you,” Gwilym said sternly. He turned and faced Frank. “I see very clearly now that you have been mistreating her. She is free to choose whatever she likes.”

“I’m her father!” Frank insisted. 

“Step father,” you said. Then you looked up at Gwilym. “I choose you, my love.” 

“I’m glad to hear it,” he replied. “Sir Tarleton, you’ll be taken into custody.”

Frank’s eyes went wide as the guards moved to take him from Rami. They clapped iron rings around his wrists. He seemed too shocked to struggle. 

“Take him to the dungeon to await trial for his crimes,” Gwilym instructed. He faced you again. “And you, my darling, may come with me to the palace.”

“For how long?” you wondered. 

“Forever, if you wish it,” he assured you. 

“I could hardly wish for more,” you said happily. 

He took your hand and helped you onto his horse. Together, you headed for safety, and building a life together. In true love.

***

You and Gwilym married as soon as possible. The whole kingdom was thrilled at the wedding. Frank was tried and convicted for his abuse, but would not serve a life sentence, so instead of prison, he was banished from the kingdom. Even so, early in your marriage to Gwilym, you frequently had nightmares where your stepfather returned. 

Gwilym was as loving and patient a partner as you could hope for. He let you talk through your trauma, and he made sure to never do anything that caused you fear. His support helped you to truly heal. 

Your step sisters had to move from the estate, which was now yours entirely. Eleanor and Miranda were surprisingly happy to take over their father’s first business, the tavern, which they ran successfully with Zelda. They both eventually found merchant husbands and lived peacefully, and you were genuinely happy for them.  

But the greatest joy Gwilym ever gave you was your children. You had two boys and two girls, and they were the light of the whole kingdom’s eye - but especially the king, who lived a long and healthy life with his grandchildren. You had no other description for your life besides happily ever after.

[farfromtommy]

home (sebastian stan x fem!reader)

not my gif

summary: sebastian is interviewed during quarantine and is asked about life at home with his wife and kids 

a/n: i was so ready to post my first draft of this and it was 2800 words and i read it again and hated it and deleted so much stuff but wrote even more now its 3600 words WHAT AM I DOINGGG. i read a fic in this sort of style and absolutley loved it. i don’t remember who wrote it but i believe it was a chris evans x reader. if you know what it is please let me know! the italics are the interviewer and regular text is sebastian! thanks for reading in advance! this was mildly edited for grammatical mistakes i will edit it soon i have so much school work i’ve fallen behind on but spent hours writing this oop 

wordcount: 2,800

masterlist 

taglist

Sebastian! It is really good to see you. How are you? How is life at home?

 -Hey! It’s good to see you, too. I’m doing pretty well, considering. I have 

nothing to complain about. I’m here with my wife and kids and we’re enjoying this time with each other.

How is everyone at home handling the madness?

-We’re all doing fairly well. It’s not easy having to change our routines so drastically, especially with 2 toddlers. They were frustrated with us and we were frustrated with them at first, but we adjusted and are trying to take it day by day. 

As you know, we’re doing these interviews with a handful of celebrities, talking a little about their lives as parents during these unprecedented times. As a fairly new father, we were interested to see how things have been in the Stan household and a little more about your family life. Thank you for allowing us to ask you these questions. I know you keep your personal life private from the public. 

-I don’t mind at all, I love talking about them. I could go on and on about them for days, so ask away.  

How did you meet your wife, Y/N? 

-I met her through a mutual friend. They had this party that we were both invited to and had introduced us. I believe she had gotten out of a pretty serious relationship not too long before we met, and from the get-go was not interested in talking to me at all. 

How long before she gave you a chance?

-After a few drinks I went up to her and told her if she didn’t want to go out with me she didn’t have to, but that I heard so many great things about her and wanted to get to know her better. We exchanged numbers and we talked on the phone almost daily and when she was ready, I took her out on a date. The rest is history. 

Where did meeting her fall into your life career-wise? What were you working on when you met her? 

-We met in April of 2014, so I believe Cap 2 had just premiered and I was signing on to do The Martian and The Bronze. 

Was she a fan of any of your work before you met?

-She had told me on one of those phone calls before we had officially started dating that she was a fan of shows like Pretty Little Liars, New Girl and was a huge fan of Gossip Girl, which I was on for a considerable amount of time, and I guess she didn’t realize it until I said something about it. Very early on I had promised to cook her dinner so she went to my place and we had dinner and then drank too much wine and watched a handful of the episodes I was in. The whole time she couldn’t get over how different I looked. 

I’ve seen the pictures of you two at your movie premieres, does she like going to those with you? 

-She loves it when we dress up and go somewhere nice, so premieres are right up her alley. She doesn’t participate in the interviews or anything but loves walking the carpet with me and standing in front of the photographers. I always have her close to me and I’ll be saying things to her to make her laugh, which in turn makes me laugh. We get good shots out of those moments. 

What was the very first premiere you took her to?

-Our first premiere was probably Civil War. I had taken her to some film festivals and other events before but that was our first big movie premiere together. We actually got married shortly after that premiere. 

I remember when you both walked out on the carpet at the Toronto Film Festival in 2017 for the premiere of I, Tonya, you had a pretty big surprise for everyone.

-Indeed we did. Y/N was about 34 weeks pregnant with our twin girls when we went and that's how we announced it! She was nervous about everything that day but she looked phenomenal and stole the carpet. We have a joke that she’s always pregnant when we go because she was 16 or 17 weeks along with our son when we went for the premiere of Endings, Beginnings in 2019. 

That is amazing, I didn’t know that!

-No one did except for us, until now!

What would she say has been her favorite movie you’ve been in?

-That’s a hard one. Every time a new movie comes out with me in it, she says it’s her favorite. But I think it would have to be between Endings, Beginnings or Hot Tub Time Machine. 

Hot Tub Time Machine is definitely the right answer to that question.

-I agree! 

Let’s talk a little bit about your kids. You have 2 daughters and a son?

-Yes! Y/N and I had our twin girls, Genevieve and Elena, in 2017 and our son Luca earlier this year.  

You sent me a few pictures of them and they are beautiful. Congratulations to you and Y/N on the new baby. How is everyone adjusting to the new addition?

-Thank you! I think now that we have a somewhat steady routine now, it’s a little easier for all of us. He’s only 3 months old so he’s still waking up every few hours to eat and it was hard on us for the first few weeks since we still have 2 toddlers requiring our attention as long as their eyes are open. But being home all the time and not working at all has given us the time we needed to establish a new routine for us with an extra person in our home. Y/N and I are a great team and work well together. 

Do the girls help you guys out at all with Luca?

-They love helping Y/N with Luca. We bought them some of those creepy baby alive dolls that you can feed and change their diapers when we first found out she was pregnant, and they were thrilled. Once we brought them home they couldn’t believe they had a real baby to take care of. It’s the sweetest thing ever. 

What kind of things do they do?

-Y/N is breastfeeding Luca, so she’ll sit on the rocking chair in our bedroom or on the couch and is confined to that spot for however long he eats for and she always gets super thirsty while doing it. So I bought her this water bottle that keeps her water cold and is easy to carry around when she’s holding him, but she never remembers to fill it before she sits down to feed him, so they will run to the kitchen and fill it for her. Or if she forgets her phone in the bedroom, they’ll go and grab it for her. They sit next to her and talk to Luca about their cartoons or anything they think of. When I’m on diaper duty, they grab the wipes for me and help me pick out his new outfit. Gen loves picking out his clothes and Elena helps me put them on him. 

That is amazing, you and Y/N are raising some pretty wonderful kids. 

-They are pretty remarkable, they take after their mom. 

Who do your kids take after, looks-wise?

 -The girls look more and more like Y/N every day. Her parents sent us pictures from when she was their age and it’s scary how identical the three of them are. Luca is starting to look a little bit like how I did when I was a baby, I’m super pumped about that. They all have blue eyes very similar to mine, and all have my cleft chin. 

Is it safe to say Gen and Elena are daddy’s girls and Luca is a mama’s boy?

-Absolutely. There are days when I cannot get Luca to relax and stop fussing but the minute he hears Y/N’s voice, he’s calm and it’s like nothing is wrong. His favorite place in the world is on her chest with his ear against her heart. He loves to stare at her whenever she’s holding him or if I’m holding him and she’s across the room, he’s got his eyes on her. He’s always just absolutely taken by her and refuses to let her out of his sight. He gets it from me. The girls are a little more complicated. When they’re full of energy and want to be rowdy and obnoxious, they run right to me because I love chasing them around the house or having them climb all over me. When they are chilled out and want to play with their dolls, color, or watch cartoons they always go to Y/N. The three of them love laying in our bed watching cartoons with one girl on either side of Y/N. I bet that’s what they’re doing right now. But they’re 100% daddy’s girls, don’t let the cuteness in our bed fool you.

How do you and Y/N handle the inevitable tantrums?

 -We have created a really good system with them. If one of them starts to have a meltdown we separate them before the other one starts getting upset, we take whoever is having the meltdown and sit down on the floor and try to get them to talk to us about why they’re upset and allow them to express their feelings to us. We want to teach them how to understand and express what they’re feeling and develop the skills to deal with them in the future. The same goes for if they have tantrums at the same time or if they’re upset with me or Y/N. When they’re ready we put the girls together and have them apologize or say whatever needs to be said. 

What do your days look like now that you’re at home with them?

  -Luca wakes us up at about 6 am to eat and a diaper change. Mornings are one of the only times Y/N and I have to ourselves so we go back to bed and just enjoy being there with each other. The girls come in around 8 and want to get under the covers and cuddle with us for a bit. Sometimes we’ll get Luca out of his bassinet and it’ll be all 5 of us, but usually we take this time to love on our girls for a bit before we get our day started. After an hour or so they start to get hungry so one of us will stay in bed with the kids while the other handles breakfast. Once we get them out of bed and they’ve had breakfast I play with them before I do some work. I’ll work for a couple of hours and then we’ll eat lunch together and all the kids go down for naps.

-During their nap Y/N and I are working out a little and tidying up around the house. When the girls wake up they’re full of energy and we’re chasing them around and keeping Luca happy until dinner. After dinner they all have bath time with mom and I’m finishing up some work and doing the endless amounts of laundry we have. Bedtime for the girls is 9 pm and after they’re asleep we’re in the living room with Luca until he starts to get tired and he goes back into our room and goes to sleep. When all the kids are in bed we’re in the living room watching a movie or listening to music and talking to each other. We’ll take a shower or a bath together before we get ready for bed and do the same thing all over again!

Wow! You guys have your hands full it seems.

 -Kids are no joke. I can’t imagine what it’s going to be like when Luca is mobile. My life nowadays is chasing after toddlers and laundry. So. Much. Laundry. But I really wouldn’t have it any other way, I love being a dad.

Have you thought about taking everyone to Romania and showing them where you grew up?

 -Y/N and I went in 2016 while we were in Europe for our honeymoon and spent a couple of days there. We had talked about going this year or the next and leaving the girls with her parents but then we found out she was pregnant with Luca and we don’t want to leave him when he’s too young. Maybe when they’re older and can appreciate it more we’ll take them, I’d love for them to learn a little bit about their history. 

Have you taught them any Romanian?

 -I have. My mom encouraged me to introduce them to it when they’re young so they’ll absorb it better. The girls know a couple of words and can understand and speak basic sentences when I’m talking to them in Romanian. They’re picking it up a lot quicker than I thought they would. Luca just giggles when I talk to him in any language. 

What about Y/N? Did you ever try teaching her?

-I did, and still am. One of the ways I tried impressing her when we first got together was how I could speak a different language and she loved it and made me promise to teach her the basics. When things got serious and I introduced her to my mom, we spent the whole evening teaching her simple words and phrases. She’s good at picking up what we’re saying and putting everything together to understand what we said. I translated for her the entire time we were in Romania. She knew what she wanted to say but didn’t know how to say it. She’s getting there. 

What changes when you are cast for a movie that is going to keep you away from home for an extended amount of time?

-Before I met Y/N and had kids, I was taking jobs wherever and didn’t care if I was going to be away for months at a time. Once we brought up about settling down and buying a house together and starting a family we had a long conversation about where my career was going to go and how we were going to fit a family into that. She never wanted me to give up what I love doing and always said a family could wait until I was ready to step back from acting. I knew most of the things I’d be working on would be based in New York or Atlanta. We have our house in New York and it only made sense to have a house in Atlanta. Now whenever I’m needed in Atlanta for work, we pack up some things and have it shipped to our house down there. 

How did you handle having to shoot for Infinity War and Endgame for so long?

-Luckily I didn’t have a huge role in either of them and didn’t have to be on set as much compared to Evans or really anyone else in that movie. Shooting started for Infinity War January of 2017 and we bought our house down there just a few months prior. I had some other things I was working on in Atlanta and we had just decided to stay down there until everything was wrapped. We got there at the beginning of February and found out Y/N was pregnant with the girls about a month after that. We wrapped Infinity War in July and Endgame started in August. We did the premiere for I, Tonya, and went back to Atlanta since I would be needed there again. Y/N went into labor a few weeks later and we had the girls in Atlanta right in the middle of shooting Endgame. 

Did you take them to set to introduce them to everyone?

-We did. We had them a couple of weeks before we shot the final scenes in Endgame and when Y/N was a bit stronger, I asked her to bring them to set for morale and dear God everyone lost their minds. Everyone knew we had them but I wasn’t on set at all until that day and a couple of hours into shooting I told everyone to be prepared for what was coming and with everyone standing around looking confused, here comes Y/N with these 2 tiny babies in her arms. I have some pretty epic pictures and me holding them with the metal arm on and Evans holding them with the Cap suit. 

Who do you trust most to babysit them out of everyone you worked with on Endgame?

-Evans is definitely on the top of my babysitter's list. He did watch them a few times when he was in Atlanta for a another movie while we were shooting Falcon and the Winter Soldier. Y/N and I needed a date night and he offered to stay at our house and watch them. The girls adore him. Mackie is great with them, too. I could probably call Tom Holland if I was desperate.

Did Y/N have Luca while you were shooting The Falcon and the Winter Soldier?

-Yes. We started shooting in November of 2019 in Atlanta, and she was about 24 weeks pregnant. I took her and the girls with me and Y/N went into labor in February. 

When production was set to move to Europe, were they all going with you? 

-So when we found out we were set to shoot in Prague we knew Y/N and Luca weren’t going to be able to go since he was going to be too young to travel out of the country. We planned to get her and the baby back to New York in March and I was going to take the girls to Europe with me, so Y/N could focus on Luca and not have to take care of all 3 of them by herself. We were shooting for 3 weeks so it wasn’t a crazy amount of time for us to be apart. 

How did the virus change those plans?

-When news of the virus spreading broke we got Y/N, Luca, and the girls to New York before it spread here. Y/N has some family in Florida so they drove up and flew to New York with her so she had help with the baby and the girls. Production was halted the first week of March and I was on the next plane to New York to get back to them. 

How scary was it sitting at home with your 3 young kids just watching how quickly the virus was spreading?

-It was terrifying. As a parent all you want is to protect your kids from anything that can hurt them, and you’ll do anything to make sure they’re safe and healthy. I had never felt so helpless. When the numbers kept rising and rising here I felt like we had made a mistake coming back and wished we would’ve stayed in Atlanta. But we didn’t know how long this was going to be happening so it was ultimately the right move to come back here. I’m the one who does all the grocery shopping and leaving the house for essentials. Y/N and Luca have had a few postpartum appointments and checkups but that’s the only time either of them is going out. We are lucky to have a yard for the girls to run around and be able to play outside and for us to get fresh air. 

We’re just about wrapped up here but I have a few more questions. These are questions that some fans sent in. How has your life changed over these past few years since becoming a husband and father?

-It’s changed for the better. Meeting Y/N was probably one of the greatest things that have ever happened to me and has given me so many amazing opportunities in my life I wouldn’t have had otherwise. I’m not even just talking about becoming a dad, but she has helped me see things in me I never saw before and she pushed me to become better. I’ve become a better person because of her. There are so many things having kids has taught me, I could probably write books about it. I love my kids with everything in me and couldn’t imagine my life without them, and I never want to. 

Do you want more kids? 

-Y/N and I would love to have another baby. I don’t want to overwhelm myself or Y/N with adding another baby into the mix too soon. I still have a lot of commitments I’ve made to work once all of this craziness is over. Maybe in a couple of years when I can step back from acting, we’ll revisit the idea of another baby. I do need one more boy to level the playing field. There are going to be 2 teenage girls in this house eventually, I’m going to need all the testosterone I can get. But right now, everything is perfect.

  What is one thing you want to make sure your kids remember about you and Y/N after you guys are long gone?

 -I want them to remember the love we had for them, and for each other. There’s a line from The Office I always think about every time I see Y/N. “When you’re a kid, you assume your parents are soulmates. My kids are going to be right about that.” My kids are never going to doubt for a second the love I have for Y/N. I hope they grow up believing in that sort of love and one day can share it with their person like I am with mine.  

Thank you Sebastian for this amazing interview. I send all my love and well wishes to you, Y/N, Genevieve, Elena, and Luca. 

-I’ll be sure to pass that along, thank you so much!

a/n: im a sucker for dad!seb this made me SO SOFT

tagging some mutuals : @bellamys @constantaking​ @auroraevans​ @angrybirdcr​ @auroraevans​ @tfandtws​ @smilexcaptainx​ @rubberducky-jrr​ @rosetintedbucky​ @disaffectedbarnes​ @cosmicbucky​ @spideyspoods​ @hollandsosterfield​ @spideybrie​ @wildflowerbarnes​ @marvelxholland​ @cutesparker​ @afictionaladventure16​

[shijiujun]

Mom ~ I’m not saying you have to do this BUT Chuyao teaching for the last snack item at the same time AU hahahah 🥰

hahahaha right up my alley, and much crack below - chuyao’s hands meeting over a plate of snacks that ends up evolving into a marriage proposal LMAO

--

“So Youning,” Bai Qili asks over family dinner one evening, “When are you and Detective Lu going to get married?”

Lu Yao, who has just stuffed a large spoonful of his favourite fish maw’s soup into his mouth, almost spits out the mouthful, and it is only Chusheng ducking out of the way fast enough that prevents his suit from being a casualty of Lu Yao being stupid, considering how he’s seated right next to him.

Regular family dinners with Lu Yao in the mix, that’s right. Somehow, somewhere, after Bai Qili extended the invitation for dinner for the third time, Lu Yao began tagging along for all dinners. Bai Qili seems to have adopted him of sorts, be it as a potential son-in-law (not true) or a starving child in need of some tender loving care (read: cheapskate), and on the once-a-week dinners these days, Lu Yao’s favourite dishes make an appearance too.

“Dad!” Youning says in disbelief, her eyes wide. “What gave you the idea that I like him? That we are even together, or that we can even stand to be in the same room with each other without arguing?”

“Don’t lie to me. Nothing can escape my eyes. Otherwise, why are the both of you still staying together? And I see you have some new dresses and those hats that you like from those yangren stores down on Bai Lu Xia street. Just with your salary, how can you afford those if not for Detective Lu buying them for you?”

Lu Yao protests, “Lao ye-zi, I don’t have that kind of money either-”

At the same time, Youning yells, “I earned this! Ask Chusheng-ge! He’s the one who buys things for me as payment for gathering information on his cases, okay? What do you mean, are you saying that I’m not competent enough to-”

Lu Yao looks between Bai Qili and Youning in confusion and fear, as if the Green Dragon Gang leader is about to command him to marry his daughter, or else.

When he is stressed, Lu Yao eats. Well, even when he isn’t stressed, he’s eating, so unconsciously, his hand reaches out for the jianbing on the table, his eyes still on the father and daughter duo.

Instead of coming into contact with a crisp, oily piece of snack, Lu Yao’s hand knocks against skin, and he jerks, as if burnt.

Looking up, he sees Chusheng staring at him too, their hands connected over a plate of jianbing that Chusheng knows is his favourite.

Lu Yao’s cheeks flame immediately, and he retracts his hand.

“You... you can have it first,” he says, embarrassed for no reason at all.

“No,” Chusheng replies, and inches the plate closer to Lu Yao. “You have some first.”

Pushing the plate back, Lu Yao shakes his head, “No, you have it first, Lao Qiao.”

“This is your favourite! Just take the piece on the top I know you want that one.”

“I.... I can take the next one, you take the first one-”

“San Tu, just take-”

They’re interrupted rudely when a third hand moves between them, and snags the very first jianbing from the top of the stack, effectively ending the argument. It’s Youning, and as she nibbles on the pastry she just stole, there’s a really smug look on her face.

“... what?” Lu Yao asks, frowning.

“... I was mistaken.” It is then that Bai Qili speaks, catching their attention. His eyes are considering as they look between Chusheng and Lu Yao. “I see. I see.”

“Lao ye-zi,” now it is time for Chusheng to frown, “What do you mean?”

Bai Qili nods, “Chusheng ah, you know that I treat you like my own son, right? I know I’ve been hard on you, but... I am still rather open when it comes to these things. Others might have an issue with it, but what have I not seen? Back in the day, the number of brothers in the gang who looked twice at each other...”

Uncomprehending, both Chusheng and Lu Yao cock their heads to the side in absolute bewilderment.

“It’s alright!” Bai Qili declares. “Lu Yao will still be my son-in-law no matter what. I was mistaken to think he wanted to marry Youning. It’s the same if you marry him instead, Chusheng! And to think the both of you thought I wouldn’t accept it... is that why you decided to use Youning to hide your relationship?”

Then to Lu Yao, “I’ll call your father and sister tomorrow, and we can start making arrangements.”

And Youning, that lying, conniving, ridiculous woman, goes, “That’s right! That’s why Chusheng-ge has been paying me for my assistance in clothes and accessories, Dad.”

It seems that Bai Qili has gotten it all wrong, and Youning is having the time of her life making this mess worse, because he and Chusheng, they aren’t together!

Well... that’s not to say that Lu Yao hasn’t considered it, or stayed up in bed on sleepless nights worrying if he would ruin his friendship with Chusheng if he confessed. As soon as the fear and doubt comes, however, Lu Yao thinks back on all the things that Chusheng has done for him. The way Chusheng looks at him, the way he talks to him in that gentle, indulgent tone.

He must like him somewhat... right?

If it wasn’t for the words unspoken between them, Lu Yao would believe that every meal they had, every movie they went to, every walk they took together.. those were dates, but Chusheng hasn’t said anything.

The uncertainty has put them both at a stalemate of sorts, their relationship intimate but not official. They haven’t even once confessed to each other, and despite everything, Lu Yao cannot get rid of that niggling fear in his heart, that Chusheng is only being nice because they are the closest xiongdi ever, that Chusheng still wants to marry a woman like Tong Li...

“We’re... we’re not,” swallows Lu Yao, looking up. “Lao ye-zi, we aren’t-”

“Mnn,” Chusheng cuts in suddenly after clearing his throat loudly once, and Lu Yao feels his whole body go cold. “Let’s do that, Lao ye-zi. We should also discuss the betrothal gift with the Lu family.”

Gaping at Chusheng in shock, Lu Yao’s throat entirely dry, he croaks, “What-”

Chusheng is smiling at him, but it is the sight of that faint red blush on his cheeks that gives him away, that convinces Lu Yao that this man is serious and not making a cruel joke at his expense.

“You haven’t even-” Lu Yao protests weakly, “You didn’t even... also, why are you the one giving the betrothal gift?!”

“Do you want to give me the betrothal gift then?” asks Chusheng, leaning close. “I don’t mind. What’s mine ends up becoming yours anyway, so after the betrothal gift comes in, I’ll hand it all over to you. Was that your plan? Smart, my San Tu.”

Youning’s snickers are deafening on the side, while Bai Qili’s acceptance and approval is blinding.

“... no one is marrying anyone until we go on a date!” Lu Yao finally exclaims in an outburst.

His flailing hand is caught by Chusheng, and that’s when it finally sinks in. Chusheng is not joking. Chusheng is holding his hand in front of Bai Qili.

Chusheng wants to marry him.

“Anything you want,” Chusheng says.

---

All over a plate of jianbing guys!

*xiongdi - brother

*lao ye-zi - title to refer to the master of the house, usually an older person

*jianbing - chinese crepes!

*betrothal gift or pinli/caili - the guy is usually supposed to pay a ‘bride price’ when marrying his bride, and the money in some cases is provided by the guy’s family. in this case, if lu yao’s dad pays the bai family the ‘bride price’ for chusheng the ‘bride’, the money would probably end up going back into lu yao’s pockets anyway at the end of the day, which is a steal for him XD

---

~ from this list of prompts! ~

[waveridden]

JAMIE have you ever considered a modern AU for blaseball because I would love to hear your thoughts on one

cola... have i told you lately that i love you

i know i’ve talked a little about various modern aus however tonight i am thinking about the marijuana family so i present to you:

HIGH ON LIFE: a marijuana family sitcom (name subject to change) (many thanks to @leonstamatis because some of this comes from conversations with them. mostly the jokes.)

here is the setup for this mini universe that lives in my head

dom (23) is the pseudo parent to randy (19) and lenny (14 but she’s almost 15 guys she’s basically an adult) and the three of them have lived in new york city their entire lives but dom gets a job offer that’s too good to pass up... in denver*. so the entire family has to pack up and move to denver.

( * i would do somewhere in utah, bc hellmouth, but i have to be honest. i’ve known several people from utah and all of them have been just like... horrible to be around. so this is a personal bias thing. colorado’s better anyways.)

so our family is in denver now! denver is a major city ofc but it’s still a MAJOR change from new york so that is our inciting sitcom incident. Uh Oh What Kind Of Wackiness Will Our Protagonists Get Up To!

dom works at a warehouse, he’s a shift lead or something like that, and it’s his first ever full time job (as opposed to stringing together three part-time jobs). it’s supposed to be a great job and he fucking hates it but the pay is better than anything in new york and it’s better for the family if he’s here so, well, he’s here

andrew solis is a local union rep who dom gets in touch with because his job sucks and they have a lot of clandestine meetings about union stuff that turn into non clandestine meetings because they enjoy spending time together that turn into a nice normal committed relationship

andrew gets along really well with randy. he’s a nice kid, if a little much sometimes. it’s fine.

andrew is terrified of lenny

you know that john mulaney bit about how a group of thirteen year olds can sense your insecurities? lenny is an entire group of thirteen year olds on her own. she is mean and powerful and andrew is afraid of that.

obviously a lot of dom’s friends (ie the mills) are back in new york but he calls them CONSTANTLY. like, once a day. they are very loud and they love him and they miss him and are so proud of him for helping his job unionize and shit like that. they can’t visit in person often but every now and again they do.

randy gets a job at a local theatre company, which is the last thing he expected to be doing but it’s kind of... awesome? everyone here is super chill and funny and loud and he gets along with them great.

this is the jazz hands. i know they’re in breckenridge. this is my au. they’re in denver today.

his immediate best friend is layna, who does bit parts in musicals and more importantly writes a lot of weird experimental short plays that the theatre produces. she’s a couple years older than him and is far too cool and pretty for him. she tells him this every day and he agrees. she works at a zoo/botanical garden and lenny is constantly hounding her for free zoo passes and stuff (layna agrees because she adores lenny and also it’s an excuse for randy to visit her)

is the botanical garden an excuse to have the flowers players here? yes. geography is less powerful than I Want Everyone In The Same Place

randy’s OTHER best friends are nagomi (community college student/works in the aquarium part of the zoo) and emmett (computer science student at a four-year). most of the time the three of them just chill out and get high and do dumb 19-year-old shit together they’re just three chill friends

do not leave nagomi and lenny in a room together. don’t do it.

lenny isn’t allowed in costco anymore. this is nagomi’s fault

one time randy leaves both emmett and nagomi to watch lenny because surely emmett will prevent any shenanigans. when he comes back nagomi and lenny have stolen three street signs. emmett allowed this to happen because lenny and nagomi specificall stole a sign that said “emmett drive” and they can’t drive and they think it’s funny. so emmett is ALSO not allowed to watch lenny/nagomi

(emmett’s fine watching lenny on their own, it’s just that nagomi “fuck around and find out” nava is too powerful to be overridden)

occasionally nagomi’s twin sibling margarito also hangs out with her randy and emmett. when margo/randy are together they’re A Force To Be Reckoned With. they’re chaotic and easy to manipulate so nagomi can convince them to do some wild shit together. it rules.

lenny loves margo. xe’s never allowed to know this. but she adores xem.

meanwhile lenny is experiencing the worst thing that a teenager can experience: moving during high school. she is doing her absolute goddamn best to fit into the social scene here but it’s so different from new york and she doesn’t know how to handle it

her first friend is kiki familia because i just think fourteen year old girls should stick together and because i think lenny is not above very loudly very rudely making sure that kiki gets all the accommodations she needs

andrew visits one day and lenny is practicing asl in front of a mirror and he’s like oh do you want a conversation partner? because he knows enough to hold a conversation. this is how lenny and andrew form an actual relationship

(andrew is also fluent in spanish and he helps her with spanish homework but she resents this because she thinks it’s nerdy. at least with asl it’s for a good reason.)

and then a couple months later another new student shows up and she is having the opposite experience from lenny because she lived in wyoming for a really long time which is... not a big city... and denver is comparatively HUGE and she’s just really overwhelmed? and lenny is like. oh i can show you around! for sure! definitely! new students have to stick together!

kiki, suspiciously: you’re not new anymore

lenny, very non-subtly: kiki shut the fuck up

this new student is chorby and she gets along great with both kiki (i’m not sure what the analog for magical girl is in a modern au but like it’s something and they bond over it) and lenny, who immediately has a massive big huge crush on her

kiki knows this. kiki mocks this relentlessly.

lenny makes it super super clear that kiki is never going to be the third wheel and kiki’s like yes i am and that’s fine

dom and randy both absolutely adore chorby. she’s so polite. lenny knows that chorby can curse like a sailor and has very specific opinions about screamo bands but when she meets lenny’s brothers she is a saint and lenny is like... swooning over it

and like lenny/chorby are teenagers which means sometimes they get into fights over dumb things and sometimes they get into fights over serious things but they always work it out in the end

there’s definitely a whole Thing because chorby goes to the sadie hawkins dance with juice collins and lenny is like. what the fuck.

is juice a teen? she is in the jamie cassidy extended blaseball teen universe. at least for today

anyways you might notice that there is not a lot of plot here. that’s because this is a sitcom and it is really just a very long setup for me to think about various ideas happening in (i.e. lenny trying to intimidate andrew for absolutely no reason, randy/nagomi/emmett shenanigans) it’s genuinely just like. a fun little world for me to play in when i need it.

the MOST IMPORTANT PART of this au is the family tho. cannot stress this enough, dom and randy and lenny all have family time constantly. they love each other so much. and that family expands to include andrew, and chorby, and emmett and nagomi and kiki and layna, but at its heart This Is A Sibling Story and i love them. the end

[njasnyah-kholin]

Rhythm of War Reactions

I’m finished with Rhythm of Wythm! So here are some haphazardly thrown together reactions.

Major major spoilers below the cut!

- You know I started this book literally just for Shallan but I ended up loving all the POVs, as I probably should have expected

- Navani was my favorite! I found her plot to be the most engaging, her character growth, her relationship with Raboniel, not to mention:

- Math!?!? and music!?!? My two true loves!?!? The connection between which I try to fit into as many school projects as possible!?!? Can Navani hire me to work on this please?

- Other than me desperately wanting to work on this project, the whole thing with converting light into sound into oscillations back into light was so cool and set up really well from TWoK. Sand plates!

- Raboniel could stab me and I would thank her

- I stole this from another post but yeah Kaladin really was like “these people all need therapy” “none for me though”

- I really want to see Jasnah’s reaction when she returns to Urithiru and Kaladin’s like “oh yeah I’m helping all those people the ardents locked up now, isn’t this cool and probably not personally relevant to your life”

- The whole concept of “give him more time” was so good :’)

- KALADIN SWORE THE FOURTH! “I accept that there are some people I cannot save!” (Or something like that.) Good for you man you deserve it

- Interestingly, Shallan has not sworn the fourth ideal yet, though she seems really close. Does this mean she’ll swear two in book 5? Or is Brandon saving the fifth for the back half for her? (Doesn’t seem likely.) I thought “I killed my first spren” would be a pretty good truth, but who knows...

- I did not like Dalinar as much this book. For someone whose main tenet is change and growth, he was surprisingly stubborn. Yes, this is within his characterization, but I hope it morphs into something a bit more cooperative in book 5.

- TRIAL BY WITNESS need I say more? I was literally covering the next page with my hand because I knew something epic was going to happen and I would glance ahead if I didn’t

- That being said, I wasn’t all that satisfied with how the book left off the Shadesmar expedition. It felt kinda pushed to the side in favor of the climax at Urithiru. Which... maybe there was no better way? But it is Shadesmar, so I feel like the timeline could have been shifted around or extended a bit to make more of a conclusion.

- Spren culture! I want to learn more!

- Rlain is now my boy. Do not touch him or I will take your kneecaps

- I came in pretty uninvested in Eshonai and Venli. I’m still not super invested in either of them, but Venli’s pretty cool, I guess? I definitely enjoyed her POVs, I just couldn’t really pinpoint what she was all about

- On a different note Teft just, like, DIED, so... that happened

- This book lowkey had me in a bad place by that point where I felt like I had to keep reading to get to a better part and thus did not do any of my work due today but it’s okay because Kaladin swore the fourth and I felt better and now I will do my work and not procrastinate more by writing this...

- SEON???

- Shallan!!!! my babe!!!! Was scREAming all throughout the Formless chapter and it did not disappoint

- I actually don’t hate Jasnah/Wit. I don’t love it. But I don’t hate it

- Canon ace Jasnah!

- Singer lore is really cool and even though I didn’t find the RoW flashbacks all that interesting I am excited to see where this goes

- As an Asian person who grew up with squinty/shifty eye jokes, I find it absolutely hilarious that people continue to make fun of the Shin for their enormous eyes

- Canon neurodivergent Syl!

- Canon nonbinary spren! I didn’t really like how they kept describing the Sibling’s voice as somewhere in between male and female, especially considering how the Sibling is so derisive of humans’ binaristic worldview. I did like the part where they were like “why do you even gender” though, that was fun and if not a personal mood definitely a nonbinary culture mood

- While on this topic, Wit’s story was definitely about being trans (it was not but I will talk about this later, flow is important)

- Also while on this topic, I was getting real strong trans Lift vibes. Idk how that would work as Stormlight already transes your gender, but maybe she hasn’t fully figured it out yet, or she still sees herself one way Cognitively which is definitely a thing. I don’t think it’ll happen, but it would be cool!

- Kaladin would be afraid of dogs

- Idk what’s going on with Ishar and perpendicularities but it’s cool I guess. 5/10

- I’m annoyed that Taravangian went back to his old conniving ways after he Ascended. Him being a traitor already annoyed me and it felt like all his growth through the book was for nothing. Also, what about Rayse? Y’know, the villain we’ve been fighting all this time? I feel like this would have been better suited for mid-late book 5, after some sort of conclusion has already happened with Rayse, or we feel like this transition is necessary.

- Dalinar needs to attain the fifth very very quickly and that makes me nervous because he does not seem close to the fourth like Shallan does.

- Is the whole fifth book going to take place within the next ten days?

- Wit’s story was not about being trans it was about mental illness and it was really good for reasons that I cannot put into words

- And finally: Now that Shallan has two Shardblades, can she wield two swords at once??? Please???

I hope you enjoyed those reactions. Stay safe and have a nice day! :)

[plaidbooks]

Everyone Deserves Love chapter 8

A/N: This starts with a little bit of fluffy cuteness, but don’t let that fool you! Jenkins coming in hot, and then it switches to angst. And it stays angst. So heads up, it’s gonna be angst for a bit haha.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Tags: none, outside of feelings, oh, I guess minor character death that was mentioned in one line

Words: 6k+

Taglist: @the-baby-bookworm @beccabarba (lemme know if you want to be tagged!)

Apartment of Rafael Barba

Saturday, May 2nd. 5:00am

Devon woke up at 5am sharp, as usual, even after being up over 24 hours the day before. She uncurled on the couch, stretching while standing, then went through her morning routine: exercise, shower, dress. She tried to be as quiet as possible, since Barba was still asleep, and she planned to let him sleep in a little, their deal from the previous night. Normally on weekends, he would stumble out of his room around 8am. Glancing at the clock, it was still early; only 6:30. Devon planned on making coffee to go with the breakfast, so she decided that 8am would be the safest time to start it. Until then, though, she’d work on the abandoned report from last night, while trying to ignore the thoughts that had stopped that report. Having those types of thoughts helped no one and was wildly unprofessional. So, she shoved her feelings away, focusing on the events from the past two days instead.

Time flew by and 8am came faster than she thought it would, with no signs of life from Barba’s room. She still got up from the couch, report done, and started the French press. While waiting for the water to heat up, she went to the FBI database, trying to check on the last 12 Aces in the city. She looked up from her laptop when she heard Barba’s door open; she didn’t even hear him shower, yet his hair was still damp from the spray. He was in nice slacks and a plain polo shirt; his “casual” attire, unlike his “weekend” suits. It was always a little treat seeing someone who was normally in expensive suits dressing in something…not as expensive. Casual. He still looked damn good, though.

“Good morning,” Devon chirped, pouring herself a cup of coffee. “Coffee?”

“Please,” he grumbled. Even when he slept in, Rafael Barba was not a morning person. Devon grinned, pouring him a cup, and adding the appropriate amount of sugar that she knew he liked. She noticed, somewhere deep down, that she liked their almost…domestic tendencies. It made sense, with how much time they spent together, but it was still nice to have these little shared things. It was like his home was hers’, too. Which was comforting. And absolutely terrifying.

“Here you go,” she said, passing him the hot liquid.  He gratefully took a deep pull, letting the caffeine waken him. He went to the fridge, pulling out an assortment of vegetables and a carton of eggs. He set about making breakfast, an omelet with sautéed vegies; Devon hovered in the kitchen, but her attention was on her laptop, still researching.

“So, what time were you up today?” Barba asked casually.

“Uh, 5am?” Devon replied.

Barba shot her a look. “I thought we agreed to sleep in today. Why were you up so early?”

“I—I’m always up at 5. I have an internal clock, wakes me up,” she explained.

“Everyday?”

“Correction, almost always. Sometimes I’m up at 4.”

Barba looked shocked first, then concerned. “We go to bed so late; why the hell do you wake up so early? And how the hell are you so perky in the morning?”

Devon thought about it. “I’ve been waking up before the sun for a while, now, couple years, actually. Guess it’s just habit.” She gave him a playful smile. “The perkiness is all me, baby.”

Barba ignored the joke, all serious. “Years? That cannot be healthy. Have you talked to anyone about this?”

Devon took a sip of coffee, swirled it in her mouth before swallowing. “After doing a UC, it’s mandatory to talk to a therapist. So yes, I did ‘talk to someone’ about it…. Especially because it seemed to start a week into that assignment.” Barba flipped the omelet he was making. It looked like he was going to question further, so Devon cut him off. “Yes, both my therapist and I believe that it’s from stress. I—I think I’m just…” she took a deep breath; saying it out loud was acknowledging it. But it was also good to get it out of her mind. “I’m just afraid; my brain needs to be on alert at all times. I know it sounds silly, but people like you—victims--deserve to have 24/7 protection, but I can only give you 20 at most. I’m a light sleeper; anyone breaking in and I’ll hear it. But I don’t think that’s really good enough; it leaves at least 4 hours where you’re open, exposed, especially with the fire escape in your room.” Barba took the omelet out of the pan, placing it skillfully on a plate, and passing it to Devon. She took it gratefully, blowing on it before taking a bite. It was delicious. Is there anything he can’t do?

Barba sighed as he went back to the pan, starting on his own food. “Devon, I know that no one wants to hear it, but you are human. No one, including you, can stay awake and alert 24/7. Hell, even 20/7 is insane. I’m glad that this whole mess is almost over.” He flinched inwardly as soon as the words left his mouth. And the look on Devon’s face was a punch to the gut; it was only there for a split second before she went back to a neutral expression. But he felt it, too; as much as he would like life to go back to normal, he really didn’t want to lose her, lose this. Not yet.

“It will be nice to sleep in my own bed again,” Devon joked, though her voice fell a little flat. She knew that it was inevitable; she’d have to leave him eventually, go on with her work and life. But she really, really, didn’t want to think about that. She was disappointed that he was already there in his thoughts, that he was wishing for it.

Barba finished cooking his own food, standing at the counter next to Devon. They ate in relative silence, besides complimenting each other on the food and coffee, and idly talking about heading to the park afterwards.

“Oh shit, I need to call Liv,” Devon said, pulling her phone out of her pocket. Olivia picked up on the second ring.

“Hey Dev, everything alright?” she asked.

Devon chuckled, shaking her head. “Of course. Just wanted to let you know that Barba and I were going to Central Park for a little. Get some fresh air after the mess from the past couple days.”

“Are you sure that’s wise? You don’t think that you’ll be sitting ducks?”

“There’s only 12 Aces left, and I think after what happened with Marco, we should be good.” Devon waited a moment before adding on, “I’ll be armed, we’ll be safe.”

Liv sighed. “For one thing, I forgot to text you last night; we caught 5 more Aces in a raid last night. So now the magic number is 7. And second, I’ll station some extra unis in the park, just to be sure. The remaining members may be getting desperate, since there’s not many left.”

“That’s good to know. I’ll let Barba know, and I’ll keep my eyes open,” Devon replied. She hung up, then, and relayed the information to Barba.

“Hm, SVU must be busy; Liv doesn’t normally forget to inform us like that,” he said.

Devon agreed. “We can always stop by later today, see what’s up.” Barba nodded.

They finished their food quickly, suddenly eager to get out into fresh air. Barba’s loft was only two blocks from Central Park, so it was a short walk there, but before they even hit the park, they were already more relaxed, basking in the warm, sunny day. There’s something about getting out of the house, even for a simple walk, that was refreshing. It seemed like the tension, the heaviness, from the last two days lifted, and they joked and laughed, conversation flowing easily. They made it to a trail that went by the water, and just enjoyed each other’s presence. They talked about nothing, really, just idle small talk.  Devon did surreptitiously watch every person within eyesight; she saw at least 6 cops the first ten minutes there, two on bikes and the rest on foot. But no one looked suspicious, only suburban moms with their strollers, joggers, couples walking through the park. They wandered the trail for about an hour, slowly getting closer together, though neither of them noticed. It wasn’t until Devon’s hand brushed against his that they realized how close they were. They stopped walking, half turning to each other, Devon’s cheeks flushing, an apology on her tongue. Barba opened his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted by a woman screaming.

Devon was a flurry of movement, embarrassment from the simple touch forgotten. Her first instinct was to shove Barba behind her, turning towards the noise. It took a moment for the woman’s words to process in her adrenaline-clogged brain.

“Help! He stole my purse!” she yelled, pointing. A man dressed like a burglar from a shitty movie, complete with loose jeans, a black hoodie with the hood pulled up, and dark sunglasses, was running on the path that Devon and Barba were currently on, a tan purse clutched in his hand. As the man tried to push passed them, Barba stuck out his leg. The man got caught on his foot and went down, slamming into the ground, glasses flying off his face.

“Great reflexes,” Devon said, jokingly, giving him a half-grin. She knelt down, grabbing his hands and pulling them behind his back. “Senior Special Agent Motely, FBI,” she informed the man. She grabbed the purse from his clutches and handed it to Barba.

“Did you doubt me?” Barba smirked back. He took the purse, looking towards the woman who had alerted them. She was on her way over, as well as the two bike cops. Barba handed over the purse, and Devon let the unis cuff the man. Devon noticed Barba’s hands were shaking; he must still be feeling anxious from the past couple days for this small action to affect him so.

“Come on,” Devon said, giving him a soft smile. She took Barba’s shaking hand, ignoring the jolt of electricity she felt from touching his burning skin, and led him away from the scene at a slow jog. She was hoping that a short jog would burn off the extra energy coursing through both of their veins. She led him out of the park and towards a small café across the street; one of her favorite spots.

“That was…surprisingly fun,” Barba chuckled, trying to catch his breath. Devon laughed with him; at least he had stopped shaking.

“Oh no, please stay as a lawyer. Don’t switch to cop,” Devon replied, feigning concern at his life choices.

“Why not? Afraid that I’d take your job?”

“No, but I think the power would go to your already inflated head.”

Barba scoffed as if offended. “Don’t lie; I’d outrank you in a week.”

“And there’s that ego I mentioned.” They chuckled, before a waitress came out to them. They both ordered a coffee—Devon got a pastry, too--and resigned to people watching while they waited for her to come back.

“To be honest, though, I am glad that we were able to help that woman out,” Devon said.

Barba agreed. “We got lucky that he ran towards the two people in the park that could help her.”

“That’s a little rude to the cops working in the park.”

Barba smirked. “But am I wrong?”

“Not at all,” she replied. Their coffee and food came just then, and they sat in silence, drinking and sharing the pastry. Devon broke the silence. “Today’s been really fun. I’m glad we decided to do this.”

“Me too. It’s nice getting out of the loft every now and again. To not worry about cases, files, rapes, murders, and traffickers.”

Devon nodded. “It does get…taxing, after a while. You have to find a balance in this line of work. It’s not always enough to just go home at the end of the day.”

Barba thought about what he wanted to say, how he wanted to say it. “I—I couldn’t imagine doing what you do. At least I get to go home at the end of the day. You just finished a three-year undercover op before this; you didn’t even get to go home. You didn’t get to talk to friends, hell you didn’t even have your own name. That sounds like a type of torture. And now, you still don’t get to go home.”

“At least I have some good company,” she smiled at him. She took a small bite of her pastry, then continued, “sometimes, it feels like torture. But you have to get so into your character, your fabricated life. You have to be invested in your fake job, fake friends, fake relationships. Sometimes, none of those things feel fake anymore. It’s just life…. I’ve learned that you need to have something, anything, that can pull you back to your real life.”

“What…what did you have?”

Devon’s cheeks turned red, though she tried to hide it by drinking her coffee. “You, uh, you got to promise me you will not tell a soul,” she said after putting her coffee down. She locked eyes with him. “I’m serious; no one must know of this, especially Olivia.”

Barba kept his face neutral, trying not to smile at how flustered Devon got, how cute she was when her face got all red like that. Was it really that bad? “Okay, I promise.”

Devon took a deep breath, let it out. Then she reached into her pocket, pulling out her phone. She popped the case off, pulling something out. In her hand was a small square of what looked like folded paper. She went about unfolding it, and Barba realized it wasn’t a piece of paper, but a photo. It was so worn, so creased, that it was obvious how often she had needed to look at it during her time undercover. Once unfolded, she handed it to Barba, looking away sheepishly, sipping at her coffee.

The picture was faded, even though it was timestamped as only four years ago. It was a snapshot of what looked like a fun night in a dark bar. Devon was on the left, wearing a plastic top hat that read “Happy New Year’s! 2010” and with a drink in hand. She looked like she was laughing in the picture. Hanging on her, arm wrapped around the people on either side of her, was Olivia. It looked like she was trying to have them hold her up, but her face showed that it wasn’t happening. The photographer must have gotten her mid-fall—her mouth was open in a comical “O” shape. Barba only knew the man on the right because Olivia had showed her pictures before; his name was Elliot Stabler, Liv’s old partner. He wore a hat matching Devon’s, and it looked like Olivia was taking him down with her. His mouth was open in surprise, though a smile tugged at the corners. It was a great picture of three friends enjoying the start of the new year. Barba hated that he felt a pang of loneliness and jealousy looking at it. He looked up from the picture to find Devon watching him, cheeks still red.

“That was the first time since my childhood that I had celebrated my birthday; that I even had friends to celebrate with,” Devon explained, taking the photo back and gazing at it lovingly.

“Your birthday is New Year’s Eve?”

“Day, actually,” she corrected. She took one last look, then folded it up, stuffing it back into the phone case, popping it back on and replacing it in her pocket.

Barba wasn’t quite sure what to say. He was glad she had people to celebrate with, but also felt sad that it took her so long to find that kind of acceptance in her life. “Thank you for sharing that with me,” he said softly. There was nothing else to say. He was touched that she had opened up to him, had shown him something so personal.

Like in the park, they were both so enraptured in their thoughts that they stopped paying attention to their surroundings, especially their body language. They both had the same, stupid grin on their faces, as they stared into each other’s eyes. Barba had his hand on the table between them, and Devon didn’t even realize that she had placed hers on top of it. They were slowly leaning closer to each other, lost in the depths of their eyes, the closeness that they felt. Thinking about how today was a perfect date, yet neither would admit to the other that it even was one; it was just a walk in the park between friends. Sharing an intimate secret between friends. Holding hands, sharing a pastry, leaning closer, heads tilting, eyes closing…as friends….

Devon’s phone started ringing loudly, and they both jumped back, ripping their hands off the table. Devon fished her phone back out of her pocket, heart beating wildly. What just happened?

Barba looked flushed and a little…disappointed, grabbing his coffee and taking a sip, adverting his eyes. Devon looked at her phone screen, seeing her boss’s name lighting up across it.

“Uh oh…” she mumbled before answering. “Motely.”

“Is there a reason that NYPD’s Internal Affairs just handed me a file on you shooting a man two days ago?” Jenkins asked. He wasn’t angry; he just sounded tired.

Shit. “Oh, I meant to call you about that, sir,” Devon replied, heart still pounding. Her mind was going a mile a minute, stuck between thoughts of shooting Marco, IAB, and almost, maybe, about to kiss a certain counselor who was still avoiding her eyes. “You see, it’s a long story….”

“Well, you’d better come in and explain it to me, then.”

Devon looked to Barba, sipping innocently at his coffee. How much coffee does he still have? “Uh, permission to bring a civilian?” He finally looked at her at that, brow furrowed.

Jenkins sighed; he knew better than to ask questions. “Granted. Get here. Now.” And with that, he hung up.

Devon slowly put her phone down. She looked deeply into Barba’s green eyes. “Ever wanted to go to the FBI Headquarters?”

FBI Headquarters

Saturday, May 2nd. 12:37pm

Devon led Barba into the elevator leading to her boss’s office, his visitor badge bouncing off his chest.

“This is not what I had planned today when we agreed on a day off,” he mumbled, the doors closing behind them. Devon smirked.

“Sorry about this. I could’ve left you with a detective, if you really wanted. Or you can go back to the lobby; one of the field agents can watch you.”

Barba scoffed. “I’m not a child for you to pass around.”

“Then stop complaining like one,” she replied. He glared at her, and she stuck her tongue out in response. The elevator doors dinged and opened, and Devon led him down the long hallway to Jenkins’s office.

“Come in,” he said before she even had a chance to knock. Barba gave her a look, eyebrows raised. She shrugged in a yeah, that’s normal way, then opened the door for him, following him in. Jenkins kept his office space neat, tidy; a desk with two monitors, a couple of full bookshelves, and a small conference table in the corner. Although he was the Assistant Director, in charge of multiple sectors of field agents, he still didn’t spend much time in his office, usually only resigning to the space at night or on weekends to do paperwork. Much like Olivia, he worked his way up from field agent, and his heart and mind were still out in the field. He had trouble sitting still for too long, and was often out of the office, running teams or even in the field himself as much as possible. Which was why everyone respected him, whether they liked him or not.

“Counselor,” Jenkins said in his deep voice, nodding to Barba, before turning back to Devon. “Motely, report.”

Devon took a deep breath, then filled him in on everything that had happened since the end of January, starting from the night she met Barba, to talking to Olivia, to accepting the 24/7 protection of the ADA. “I honestly didn’t think it would be this…extensive,” Devon finished, lacking a better word. It was true, though; she knew what 24/7 protection was like, but she had only ever done it for a weekend at most. Never for months at a time. And though she knew that there was the chance of it lasting longer than she thought, it was different talking about it and actually doing it.

“So, this shooting of Marco Sorrel was in defense of Mr. Barba here,” Jenkins replied, looking at the case file from IAB.

“Yes sir.”

“And this protection order is still in effect? That’s why you brought him here, I take it?”

“Yes sir.” Devon felt Barba tense next to her; she had almost forgot he was there. He had said nothing since coming into the office. He knew when to bite his tongue.

“For how much longer? I need my top agent back to work.”

That knocked the wind out of Devon’s sails. It was the confirmation that after this was over, she would be going right back to work for the FBI. She wasn’t surprised, but it did solidify her resolve; she could not have a relationship with Barba, regardless of their feelings. She basically already told him as much that one day they talked a little too loosely about relationships.

“To my knowledge, there’s only 7 more Aces active in the city. Once they’re arrested, and the hit on Barba is off, I’ll be cleared for work again, sir,” Devon informed him.

Jenkins smirked. “Only 7? Tell that SVU Sergeant that I’ll make sure it’s taken care of before the weekend is over. I want to see you here, bright and early, on Monday morning; there’s a sex-trafficking ring I need you in on.”

Devon felt her stomach drop, her world crumbling. But she kept her face neutral, her voice steady. “Y-yes sir,” she said. Hearing the dismissal in his voice, she turned, Barba following suit, and left the office.

Apartment of Rafael Barba

Saturday, May 2nd. 3:05pm

“So, are we going to talk about it?” Barba finally asked from the kitchen. They both had been silent leaving the Bureau, and even more distant on the ride back to Barba’s loft. They tried small talk, but it sizzled out after a couple words. They both resigned to doing their own thing; Devon researching on her laptop, Barba doing the dishes from breakfast.

“Talk about what?” Devon replied, but she knew. Of course, she did. But she wanted to hear him say it.

Barba sighed, turning off the water. He placed the last pan on the drying rack, drying his hands off before coming to stand in the doorway. “Let’s be adults about this. Please. You know what,” when Devon stayed silent, Barba continued, “about what happened, well, what almost happened at the café. About the fact that you’re going to be leaving soon. About…about where that leaves us.”

Devon’s heart fluttered when he said “us.” God, she wanted there to be an “us” so damn badly. But she couldn’t force herself to take that leap, to fully commit to him. How could she, when both of their schedules were so busy, so crazy? Jenkins said it himself; she was about to go right back into the field. She could be gone for months, years at a time. She could be hurt or worse. How could she possibly hurt Barba like that, put him through that?

“The café was a mistake,” she said as flatly as she could. She stared at his chest, not able to make eye contact with him. “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong idea, Rafael, but there isn’t an ‘us.’ This is a job, and once it’s over, I’m back to working with the Bureau.” Devon was glad that there were no tears in her eyes; her years of training, of becoming personas were coming in handy, even if her own heart was breaking at her words. She dared a glance into Barba’s face.

He was crestfallen, his face falling. He had been sure, was positive, that she had felt the same way about him. Especially when they brushed hands in the park, when they almost kissed in the café. It took him weeks and weeks to build up the courage to make a move, and when her hand had enveloped his at that table, he knew that that was his moment. Then that damned phone call happened. And then, that damned meeting with her boss! And now she was going to leave him, by tomorrow if her boss was correct. That’s why he had to tell her, he had to know if she had felt the same.

“I thought you said that we were friends. That you cared about me,” he said softly. God, he sounded desperate, pathetic, even to himself.

Devon’s eyes softened, if only for a moment. “You are, and I do. But Barbs, we can’t be any more than that. You know that, right?” Her resolve was shaking under his intense stare. She could see him caving in on himself, his shoulders slumping slightly, his head falling, knees bending. His whole body language just screamed defeated. And she was the one delivering the blows.

He took a deep breath, stiffening his spine, raising his head; the prosecutor heading into a losing battle. “You’re right. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be putting you in this kind of situation. Forget I mentioned it.” With that, he made his way down the hallway and into his room, closing his door softly behind him. Devon opened her mouth but couldn’t think of anything to say.

Great, she thought. There goes that friendship. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing, though; it made things a little less awkward. And it made her leaving easier. Plus, it’d be just like one of her many one-night stands anyways. No attachments: just cut all ties when she left. And leave the broken pieces of her heart behind.

As if the timing couldn’t be more perfect, Devon got an incoming call, from Olivia.

“Motely,” she answered, trying to sound professional.

“Devon! Great news: all the Aces have been rounded up and delivered to the NYPD. Did you call in the Feds to help?” Olivia asked.

Devon smiled grimly. “No, but my boss did offer his assistance after getting IAB’s report.”

“Well, he certainly assisted. Also, I just got a report that said that an hour ago, the Aces in Rikers got in a fight with the 32nd street gang in the prison courtyard. Jorge Ramirez was killed in the scuffle,” Olivia paused, letting her words sink in. “To our knowledge, the hit on Barba has been called off; you can go home, now.”

Devon sat in silence, trying to figure out what the hell the bombardment of emotions she felt was; it was all too much, too quickly. “Devon? You there?” she heard Liv say.

“Yeah, yeah sorry, I’m here. That’s…that’s great news, Liv. I’ll be sure to tell Barbs; I’m sure he’ll be relieved.”

They talked for a few more minutes before Devon made an excuse to hang up, citing the fact that she needed to pack and go grocery shopping before heading home. She sighed heavily, rubbing her hands over her face, but she stood and started collecting her small number of possessions.

“It’s done, isn’t it?” a voice came from down the hallway. Devon stopped, but didn’t turn to look.

“Yes; all the Aces have been arrested. Plus, Ramirez was shanked in a prison fight, so the hit’s been called off,” she turned to look at the man now, “congratulations, Barbs. You’re no longer a marked man.”

The door to his bedroom was wide open and Barba was leaning casually against the doorframe. Well, as casually as he could; his body was tight with tension, as much as he tried to hide it, and if Devon looked closely, she could see a small red ring around his eyes. He gave a stiff nod, peeling himself off the doorframe and coming out into the living room. Devon finished packing her things, zipping up her grip and slinging it over her shoulder. She felt a slew of emotions run through her; she needed to get out of there, but she was rooted to the spot.

“When will I see you again?” Barba murmured. It was barely a whisper, so quiet that it was hard to tell if he actually said it, or if Devon imagined it.

She gave him a soft smile, one that didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m sure we’ll end up working on a case together at some point…I do help SVU from time to time,” she replied quietly. He gave her another stiff nod, not trusting himself to speak. She no longer trusted her own voice, and turned away, unable to look at his face anymore. She felt tears spring to her eyes, and she blinked them away rapidly, swallowing past the lump in her throat. Devon made her way to the front door, unlocking it, opening it slowly.

“Wait,” Barba finally choked out. Devon froze at the door, one foot already in the hallway. She looked over her shoulder at him, eyes softening for a moment. His mouth opened and closed a couple times, but no sound came out.

She gave him a small smile. “Stay safe,” she whispered, and then she was gone.

 *********************

Devon didn’t go straight home. It was still early in the evening; the sun still hadn’t set, and it was still warm out. She also didn’t call a cab; instead opting to simply wander the streets, the grip slung over her shoulder soon forgotten as her mind, too, began to wander. She made it a full block before the tears began to flow, slowly at first, but then soon falling freely. She let them, ignoring the stares from strangers she walked by. It was good to let it all out, especially here, outdoors, rather than in her own space. She did wander in the general direction of her apartment—she lived about a 30-minute walk from Barba’s loft—and she took her time, weaving in and out of the streets. Finally, with the sun setting, and her shoulder growing sore from the weight, she made her way home.

 *********************

Apartment of Devon Motely

Saturday, May 2nd. 7:35pm

After her undercover op in California, Devon had the cleaners from the FBI clean her place so that it wasn’t dusty or gross. This was not the case with the past three months with Barba; the place had obviously not been inhabited. Dust covered every surface, there was a weird smell that wasn’t there before, and it was stuffy. Devon sighed, having no motivation to clean anything, emotionally drained. She looked at the clock and sighed again, realizing she hadn’t eaten anything besides breakfast and the little pastry at the café by the park, right before everything fell apart. She should eat, but she didn’t feel hungry. She didn’t really feel anything right now except for emptiness…a longing, and a loneliness that she hadn’t felt in years.

She went to her room and checked her bed, sniffing the sheets. They smelled musty, and she knew she couldn’t sleep in that. She stripped the sheets and threw them on the floor in the corner; that was a tomorrow problem. She went to her closet and pulled out her back-up sheets but couldn’t bring herself to make the bed. Instead, she threw them on the bed in a heap and made her way to the kitchen. Hungry or not, she should eat something, especially if she planned on drinking—and she did plan on drinking; maybe it would help lessen some of the emptiness, though she knew, deep down, that that was a load of crap.

First things first, she looked in her liquor cabinet, finding some cheap whiskey. Fingers crossed, she looked in her fridge and, hallelujah, she found an unopened bottle of Coca Cola. She quickly made herself a strong drink, then took another look in the fridge. No food to be found. She checked her pantry next. A couple cans of soup and some long-expired rice. She winced, remembering that she had been gone for over three years now; she really needed to go grocery shopping tomorrow.

Sighing, she grabbed a box of instant rice and opened it. It wasn’t fuzzy or discolored, so she presumed it was fine. The alcohol she was drinking would kill anything in it, anyways. While waiting for the water to boil, she unpacked her grip, throwing the clothes in a laundry bin, plugging in her laptop, and taking out her toiletries, to be replaced with new ones tomorrow. She went back to the kitchen, grabbed a notepad, and started making a list of foods. Once done, she had a thought, and went to her supply closet. After checking the small amount of cleaners she had, she added ones she needed to the list too. She was on autopilot, thoughts blank, afraid to stop moving. Actions kept her thoughts at bay. Speaking of moving, she realized that she could finally go back to the gym tomorrow morning, something that she thought she’d be excited for, but in this state, it was a dull thought. She dreaded the pain she’d be in tomorrow—her little morning routine wasn’t intense enough to replace a gym workout—but knew it would be worth it in the end.

Satisfied with her list, Devon took her food and drink, then sat in her living room. She didn’t like how the apartment didn’t seem…familiar, not in the way she was used to, or how his had felt. Even with her work, she had lived in this apartment for about seven years now, and it was always a welcome relief coming home. Now, it was like a piece was missing. Suddenly, the silence was pushing in on her, deafening her. She lunged for the TV remote, turned on whatever sports station she could find, and sat there, picking at her rice as the announcers were droning on about…the Mets. It didn’t really matter what was on, as long as there was continuous talking, hence, sports.

It didn’t take long, though, before the monotone voices seemed to tune out of her consciousness. Devon finished her food and drink, went back to the kitchen to dispose of her dishes, and brought the whiskey and coke back to the couch with her. She quickly lost count of drinks, thinking more and more about, well, everything that happened the past couple months. She remembered the first night she had met the ADA, before she knew who he was. She thought about how he didn’t want her help at first, how he had told Olivia that he didn’t need her. How she had made a deal with him that she’d never bother him again afterwards.

She thought about those first few weeks together, about how they were awkward around each other, learning about each other. She thought about how fascinated she was the first time she watched him in court, the pride and awe the first time he won a conviction. She remembered how his eyes lit up, how he set his jaw when he ran through his arguments with her in his office. She remembered how his green eyes conveyed concern when she got stabbed in the shoulder. She remembered his little smirk when he found something amusing. She wondered when she noticed all these little things about him.

She was shocked when she felt the tears on her cheeks, didn’t notice them pooling in her eyes. So, what if she loved him? It wasn’t going to work; she knew that! She had to move on with her life, let him move on, too. He deserved someone who could love him with their whole heart, who could be there for him when he needed them. She couldn’t be that person; she was always on call, and it was never a guarantee that see would come home at night.

Devon let out a loud sniffle, trying to control her emotions. It was final; she would forget about Rafael Barba. She would get a good night sleep, clean her apartment tomorrow, and then go back to work on Monday. And that was that. She finished her drink, wiped the tears out of her eyes, then went to her room. She saw the sheets clumped on her bed and let out a frustrated scream.

[louiserandom]

MadaTobiIzu- "Whenever you lose an item (like a sock), it ends up in your soulmates’ possession somehow." I think this would be really funny that during the middle of a fight Tobirama sees two things he thought he lost but Madara and Izuna have it. Ficlet length with a G or T rating.

finally found

Rating: T

Summary: Tobirama loses two of his very important possessions, and his world is completely turned upside down when he discovers that they’ve ended up in the hands of the Uchiha brothers.

The battle is put on hold as hilarity ensues.

A/N: Did not expect this OT3 to inspire me so much XD I hope it’s not too much humor. They’re so funny I had to describe every detail of their ridiculousness x)

Hope you enjoy it, Mala!<3

Read on AO3 or under the cut :3

At first glance one might think that, out of the two Senju brothers, Hashirama is the more careless one and therefore prone to losing his things.

It’s easy to think that, considering Tobirama’s usually composed demeanor and Hashirama’s insistence on acting the fool more often than not, but no one is more aware of the utter inaccuracy of that perception than Tobirama himself.

It is his fault, admittedly, that his tendency to get lost in thoughts of scientific experiments and underdeveloped theories has him distracted from real life to the point he loses track of everything his mind deems unimportant. And that ranges from time to little trinkets, books, paperwork, and even weapons, if he finds himself lost in thought during training. It’s a very annoying truth about himself that Tobirama has learned to deal with and has long since stopped caring what his soulmate thinks of him, considering Tobirama loses at least a dozen things a day.

If I even have a soulmate, trickles of doubt gnaw at his mind, echoing the biting words of some of the elder clansmen.

“Of course you do!” Hashirama always assures him in all his sappy, dreamy-eyed glory. “And it’ll be such a beautiful day when you find them, Otouto. I cannot wait!”

Tobirama couldn’t say the same for himself. He’d gleaned enough clues over the years to deduce that his soulmate must be an Uchiha, and the ongoing war spurred on by Butsuma and Tajima’s thirst for vengeance does little to give hope for a happy outcome of events. And despite Hashirama’s adamance regarding his dream of peace, once he and Madara took up leadership of their respective clans, there was too much hate, too much death accumulated during the war for peace to be an immediate possibility.

He keeps his discovery from Hashirama lest he do something reckless or stupid—or both—and does his best to deal as little damage as he can to their enemies. It’s easy to focus on Izuna, whom Tobirama finds to be a titillating challenge. A fierce, formidable opponent whose hate for Tobirama seems to only be overshadowed by Madara’s, what with Tobirama eventually becoming the only real threat to his little brother.

Little brother and soulmate.

A match made in heaven, Tobirama thinks, if only because the Uchiha brothers are both excessively loud and dramatic in equal measure.

And normally, Tobirama wouldn’t be able to stand such behavior, but today he finds himself acting quite like the maddening Uchiha duo because his whole world seems to be crashing down.

“I can’t,” Hashirama whines, “I can’t find it, Otouto.”

He’s buried under heaps of unorganized research notes in Tobirama’s lab, a few upturned cabinets lying beside him, with quite the number of broken vials strewn all over the place.

Tobirama is in much the same predicament, and for once he’s thankful he put away all the containers with radioactive elements away into unbreakable storage scrolls, at least.

His lab is an absolute disaster.

Because apparently, Tobirama is too much of an idiot to keep track of his new favorite weapon for one godsdamned day. Raijin no Ken was a nightmare to locate and tear away from many, many greedy, mostly inhuman hands. How in hell he’s managed to lose it is beyond Tobirama’s understanding.

“Well, it’s your… old favorite weapon now?” Hashirama tries for a joke.

“Anija,” Tobirama growls.

“Don’t be sad! Remember, your soulmate will probably have it.”

Tobirama rolls his eyes. It’s a possibility. One that he’ll hopefully get to test on the battlefield tomorrow. And that reminds him of his latest development—a seal able to manipulate spacetime to achieve instantaneous travel, which should prove quite useful during battle. He embedded it on a special kunai, a treasured gift from Hashirama from years back, and must have put it… somewhere…

“Fuck!” Tobirama shoves away some construct for an experiment in a fit of utter frustration when he fails to find what could have become his second favorite weapon.

“What did you lose this time?”

Tobirama stares guiltily at the ground. “The kunai you gave me when I came of age. One that I imbued with a special seal.” He sighs. “I hate this.”

“It’s going to be okay, Otouto.” Hashirama approaches him tentatively, arms raised in a pacifying gesture. “Remember how I also lost something important once? That permafrost statue of an atom you gave me as a kid? And then I got it back when I met Mito, and it was one of the happiest days of my life!” It’s hard remaining annoyed in the presence of Hashirama’s goofy smile, but Tobirama keeps up the disgruntled façade. “You know, I’ve heard of these organization techniques that might help—”

“If you want to help, Anija, shut up and let me work,” Tobirama snaps, sitting himself down on the one desk still standing with the research notes for the seal still, thankfully, in place. “But thanks,” he adds in a whisper that Hashirama hears, of course, and proceeds to wax poetic about the beauty of brotherly love.

Despite the distraction, Tobirama quickly recreates a Hiraishin anchor with one of his standard kunai, putting it safely into his weapons pouch to keep it close.

Raijin no Ken, on the other hand, is going to have to be exclusively his soulmate’s—for now.

For now turns out to be a little less than a day, because the next morning saw Tobirama facing Izuna. Business as usual, only the Uchiha has replaced his katana for the shiny new toy Tobirama has just lost.

“What,” Tobirama says in lieu of their usual insult contest of a greeting, “the fuck is that.”

Izuna smirks. “Hello to you too, Snowflake. Why don’t you stop cowering and find out?”

Tobirama scowls, absolutely not willing to put up with Izuna’s theatrics, and so attacks with a kunai that his rival easily dodges. It’s immensely satisfying to watch Izuna flail as Tobirama appears right next to him and wrestles him to the ground, knocking Raijin no Ken from Izuna’s hand and pinning his wrists above his head.

“You stole my sword!” Tobirama accuses.

“Did not. And get off me, icicle!” Izuna huffs, indignant and surprisingly not fighting against the hold as much as Tobirama expects him to. “It’s not yours—I found it, and it’s mine.”

“Found it?” Tobirama stares, dumbfounded, and Izuna uses the moment to kick and push at him with renewed vigor (but not much success).

Izuna’s soulmate is his brother, and surely it couldn’t be that—

As if in answer to his protest, Tobirama’s original Hiraishin kunai lands next to where he and Izuna are grappling, and none other than Madara Uchiha appears only to haul Tobirama to his feet and push him away.

“Hands off my brother, Senju,” Madara glowers, gunbai in hand and stance battle-ready.

Tobirama resists the urge to groan.

“That,” he points to the kunai, glaring, “is my seal and my weapon.” Tobirama itches to ask obvious question of how and where Madara had found it, but what comes out instead is, “How did you even figure out how to use it, Uchiha?”

“Yours?” Madara flails, gunbai still in hand, looking as ridiculous as ever. “First of all, fuck you, Senju, I am expert in seal theory. And secondly, I found this, and that means it must be my… our …” His face blanches as he trails off, staring at Tobirama with growing horror in his eyes. “No.”

“Apparently,” Tobirama sighs, “yes.”

“You’re our soulmate?” Izuna’s brain seems to have caught up, finally, and he stands, gaping at Tobirama like he’s seen a bijū.

“You’re their soulmate, Otouto!” Hashirama shouts gleefully from the distance, as if Tobirama’s doom isn’t obvious enough.

The battle seems to have frozen in time, confused Senju and awed-looking Uchiha standing around the scene like it’s a theater play—and it might as well be, because the idiots fate (the bitch) has chosen to tie Tobirama with completely fucking lose it.

“How did we not know he’s our soulmate, nii-san?”

“We knew it was a Senju—”

“Well, you should have accepted those peace offers from the treehead—”

“Excuse me, brat? I wanted to accept them, and you were the one saying we couldn’t trust—”

“Fuck that, I didn’t know we were lucky enough to get beautiful and deadly for a soulmate,” Izuna says, upturning the entirety of what Tobirama had believed to be reality up until this moment. Beautiful? “I thought Snowflake was taken!”

“Now listen here, you reckless dumbass,” Madara growls, the chakra around him getting hotter to match his anger, “no matter how beautiful he is,” he says, pointing his gunbai Tobirama’s way, “he still almost killed you a hundred times—”

“At most a dozen, nii-san, and I almost killed him once!”

“I don’t care!” Madara shrieks, voice getting exponentially louder. “Until we’ve figured out this whole mess, you are going to stop being a suicidal moron and listen to what I say!”

Madara takes a deep breath to, presumably, launch another longer rant, and it’s then that Tobirama decides he’s had enough.

(This is why he’s always thankful his opponent is Izuna. It’s painful watching Hashirama deal with Madara’s shrieky rants every single battle.)

And since no one forbade him from being a suicidal moron, Tobirama decides to do the one thing his brain comes up with to shut up the louder Uchiha and possibly shock him enough to stop the godsdamned screaming.

The kiss comes unexpected to everyone, judging from the collective gasps, and though Madara yelps and stiffens as Tobirama drags him closer by the collar, he doesn’t struggle further.

His gunbai falls, though, and his lips relax against Tobirama’s as he goes slack-jawed, so Tobirama considers his mission successful. His brain tells him the shock of it is enough, that he should pull away, gods damn you, you’re kissing Madara Uchiha.

But two things happen that Tobirama could never have predicted.

One being that kissing Madara was actually a very pleasant experience, and the other… Well.

Madara answers the kiss.

It’s such a ridiculous series of events that’s led Tobirama to this, making out with his once worst enemy in the midst of a battlefield, the rush of blood to his head and his pounding heartbeat drowning out his brother’s indignant protests and whatever Izuna is whining about. It’s exhilarating, the way Madara’s mouth moves against his own, and despite this being Tobirama’s first real kiss, he seamlessly follows Madara’s lead, drinking him in, tasting him, almost letting out a moan as Madara coaxes his lips open to slide his tongue into his mouth.

It’s the first time all semblance of a thought process exits out of Tobirama’s mind, leaving only this perfect moment frozen in time, as the bond between them sings in response to their closeness.

Of course it’s Izuna who pulls them apart—quite forcefully, too—and proceeds to glare at his brother.

“Nii-san, you traitor! I was supposed to be the first one to kiss our soulmate when we met them! Now I,” he announces proudly, “get fuck him first.”

Tobirama blinks. That escalated quickly.

“Mm,” Madara argues, his voice blessedly quieter and face tinged with what looks to be a light blush, as he keeps staring at Tobirama with a slightly dreamy expression. “Uh. No. Mine.”

“No,” Izuna growls, hand grasping Tobirama’s fur collar protectively, “mine, you greedy bastard.”

“My baby brother,” Hashirama sobs, rid of his prior glee and suffering a mental breakdown a few feet away, “my innocent baby brother…” And that’s definitely the sound of Tōka’s cackling Tobirama can hear in the distance.

He blinks some more, breathing deep and slow, trying to regain at least some of his thinking capacity.

“Sorry,” Tobirama says to Madara, his brain only catching up enough to provide a poor excuse for the earlier kiss. “I, uh, didn’t mean to do that. So suddenly.”

“No. I liked.” Madara frowns. And that’s definitely a blush deepening on his cheeks. “Sentences. Hard.”

“YOU’RE GETTING HARD?”

“Shut the fuck up, treehead,” Izuna says, hurling Madara’s discarded gunbai at Hashirama for good measure. “He’s ours now!” He turns back to Tobirama. “What you mean to do now, Snowflake, is use this clever seal of yours and take us somewhere private. Can you do that for us?”

Tobirama blinks some more, finding himself suddenly unable to argue in face of Izuna’s devious smile. “Oh. Yeah, I can do that.”

(There’s the added annoyance of someone from the crowd asking about nuptials, which makes Tobirama crave to get the fuck out of here.)

He reaches for the Hiraishin seal he’d placed in a faraway clearing, with enough distance from both their compounds that neither their clanmates, nor Hashirama’s irrational overprotectiveness will be able to reach them. Tobirama wants to explain as much but is interrupted by a very enthusiastic Izuna ravishing his mouth. Firm, messy, biting, so unlike his earlier kiss with Madara but riveting in its own way. Tobirama can’t quite hold back the whimper that escapes the moment the last part of their bond cements itself.

“Now that,” Izuna purrs, drawing away, “was a proper greeting.”

Tobirama breathes out a laugh. “Couldn’t agree more.”

Because for the first time, nested between the playful crackle of his former rival’s chakra and the raging flame that is Madara embracing him from behind, Tobirama feels like he’s finally found home.

[hollenka99]

The Glitch Who Stole Christmas

Summary: After Jack loses a game of hide and seek, his friends and neighbours lose a lot more.

Warnings: Possession, arson

Since I was still going through a ‘copy and paste? never heard of her’ kinda phase last year, I thought I’d post this fic properly now. Even a year on, this is still a fic I feel pleased with how it came out.

I would like to thank @just-silly-liv-things​ and @marsupials-of-mars​ again for letting me use their This Christmas and Hide and Seek videos as inspiration. Please go check out their content because it’s pretty cool.

Jack gazed out from his recording room's window. A couple of his neighbours stood on the island in the middle of their cul-de-sac. Probably ensuring the tree was secure for the night. Every December they would stick an unstably large evergreen on that island. Most towns and cities had gatherings to switch lights on. His neighbourhood had a tree. The one last year nearly collapsed on someone's car.

He used to enjoy the holiday. Back when he was a kid, he would rush down on December 25th to see if Father Christmas had visited. As the youngest, he'd always been the most excitable. His parents and siblings used to tease him about it. However, it was all in good humour.

His neighbours had a habit of asking him if his loved ones had bought him cheap clothes again. That didn't feel like it was quite as innocent. Sure, the first time, he'd rolled his eyes. The first Christmas after moving here, his mother had sent over a jumper that had unfortunately ripped within a few uses. The joke got old quick. It soon became an inside joke that he was expected to be a part of despite not wanting to participate. It didn't help that they tended to boast about their own gifts from friends and family.

Forget that, he was still friends with them. It was only one joke that rubbed him the wrong way. They were decent guys during the other 11 months of the year. The whole reason he moved to this cul-de-sac in the first place was to make it easier to hang out with them. He just wished he could get them to stop the K-Mart gag without being told he 'couldn't take a joke'. Besides, K-Mart didn't even exist in Ireland.

He left the window. Why worry about others when there was The Grinch? He could snuggle up with Signe and do Christmas his way. Except no, she left to do some last minute shopping an hour ago. Never mind, he could still watch a film without her.

Jack's doorbell rings as he scans the shelves for a DVD. He's surprised anyone would want to visit him after dark, especially on Christmas Eve. Signe never forgot her key, door-to-door salesmen wouldn't bother at this time and his neighbourhood didn't get many carollers. He glances at the window to check.

A pair of green eyes glow on the over side of the glass. Not as if a light source has caught the eyes of an animal. No, these eyes were generating their own light. They shared the same eye line as his too. In fact, if Jack dared to study the figure closer, he'd likely notice slight glitching affecting their body.

Nothing about this was good. What was Anti doing here? Not only that, what was Anti doing in December? Jack and his group of egos would spend the entirety of October on edge because of the demon. October, particularly Halloween, was at Anti's mercy. They all had to navigate the tenth month's perils to survive the glitch's antics. At least they knew to expect it.

He presses against the front door. His body is pretty weak as far as physical defences go. He can't hold off intruders with only himself. A query appears. If he runs to find a chair to act as a wedge, would the demon take advantage of his absence to break the door down? Perhaps if that plan miraculously went in his favour, he could warn his girlfriend not to come home. God knows she doesn't deserve to be caught up in this mess.

"I know you can hear me. Open up the door." Anti spoke with a melodic tone. "Fuck off, fuck off, fuck off." He begs under his breath. The door sounds again. "You can't keep me waiting." Was that nails scraping against wood?

It turns out his deliberating costs him a chance to act. In seconds, green light builds to the point it illuminates the entire living room. The glass audibly cracks, shards presumably scattering across the floor with soft clinks. The glitch doesn't need to harass his front door now. The window can be his entry point. Jack has to get as far away as possible. Their eyes lock. Anti stays standing right outside the house. Could he not glitch through the wall? Wait, no. Glitching through walls would be terrible.

The thing with the egos was that they weren't completely corporeal, not the way that Jack himself was. At one point, he had total control over them. That was fine, those were the good old days. Their relationships were mutually respectful. Jack allowed them to develop their personalities until they were able to practise independence. They were still tied to him whether fully developed or not. Their connection to him could never be tampered with.

Unlike the others, Anti could get away with being wayward. He was the most different in terms of creation to Marvin. Whereas the magician had come to exist through a video the subscribers enjoyed, Anti was their product. Jack had built Anti using aspects of their image. The undeniable tie was frayed between himself and the glitchy demon. If he wished to murder Jack, the consequences wouldn't affect him as much as the other four.

Who would he want here instead? If it was Henrik, that would be nearly as unnerving as Anti. He was supposed celebrating with his family tonight. Heiliger Abend, was that what he'd called it? He had no business here. Neither did Marvin and Jameson, really. Marvin's had some holiday special he's performing and Jack doesn't know Jameson well enough for surprise visits. Then there was Chase. Jack could deal with Chase. Him drunkenly showing up to ask if he could crash over the holidays? That would be slightly problematic but not completely unexpected.

Jack can't let Anti harm him once more. If he sustained irreversible damage, who knows how badly the other egos would be affected. Chase and Henrik collapsing suddenly in front of their families wasn't something to be desired. Until Jameson's arrival a few weeks ago, Marvin had lived alone. He'd hate for the apartment to be devoid of life again.

He's freaking out. There's no way the demon can't tell. It in no way helps that Anti has begun climbing through the broken window. Jack stops standing in the corridor, peeping frequently at his living room by the doorframe. He's been watching Anti this way for the past minute.

The layout of the ground floor is odd. The kitchen is connected to not only the corridor but to the living room also. He considers himself a little lucky that he can trick Anti. If he can get the demon to follow him into the kitchen, he'll hopefully be able to sneak back to the living room while he's still out of his eyeline.

Like an idiot, he falters as he bursts into the living room from his kitchen. He simply cannot allow the glitch to spot him, not even a glimpse. He finds himself wedging his body between an armchair and the wall. It's uncomfortable, too small for him to fit unless his legs are practically pressing into his ribcage and possibly the worst place for him to hide. He swears Anti is right behind him, leaning over the armchair. While he wants to dismiss it as paranoia, he can't risk staying in one spot.

"It's already too late for you to try and run away." That damned, unmistakable giggle travels through the air. "Here I come to find you. Hurry up and run."

He doesn't need to be told twice. Getting out from behind the chair is awkward and honestly, it may be a Christmas miracle Anti doesn't become alerted. Or perhaps he has been but is allowing Jack to get a head start. He sprints upstairs to the first room he can enter. It's his bedroom. Jack instinctively attempts to lock the door, only to find it futile. It's not even lockable as such. There's no chain like the front door or something he can turn like in his old apartment. It will only buy him the few seconds it takes to turn the handle and push.

He needs to find himself a better safe place within the house. There must be a room somewhere with a lock. One of theses days he should get a bomb shelter or panic room. Somewhere with guaranteed security where he can stay indefinitely until threats like Anti leave him be. If he could set up his recording equipment so the glitch never had access to the subscribers again, even better.

The best place to keep him safe right now though is likely his closet. There's more space than under the bed. Not to mention less dusty. Jack's never noticed just how full of clothes it is. When he uses it previously, he didn't stop to imagine how he'd one day be ignoring a jacket sleeve tickle his ear while he sat on stacked jumpers and hoodies.

It doesn't matter. What's more important is controlling his breathing. It's too sharp. He may be imagining it as louder than reality out of panic. However, the less sound he made, the better his chances of getting out of this alive were.

"I can hear your footsteps. You're not very good at hiding, are you? You can't hide from me. I'm coming."

Anti has the audacity to knock. As if that will somehow excuse the breaking in, window destruction and general terrorising he's committed while in this house. What's worse is that Anti is clearly taunting him. The asshole wants Jack as terrified as he can make him.

It's fine. It was only a glitching demon hunting him down in his own home. He should focus on slow and silent breathing. He should certainly ignore Anti eliminating the bed from potential places Jack was hiding.

"You're not here. I wonder, could you be inside your closet?"

No. No no no. Oh God, no. Fuck, he's trapped in here. There's absolutely no way he can just race past Anti as soon as those doors are opened. Now would be a great time for Narnia to not only magically come into existence but do so in this very wardrobe. He could beg Mr Tumnus to hide him. Except, doesn't Tumnus get killed or something along those lines after helping the kids? He's probably only seen the film once, that time years ago when he was bored and there was nothing better to watch.

Anti swings open the closet doors, looming over Jack with the widest grin he's ever seen Anti wear. He fools himself into thinking he could bolt to the kitchen before the glitch caught him. All it took was some superior reflexes and agility to catch him unawares. Except, it's already too late.

Anti's won the 'game'.

Same as ever, things begin numbing. Jack can't remember the last time he blinked as he maintains eye contact with Anti. The merge is fluid despite his efforts to fight it. Anti's taken control enough times for Jack to know his senses will cease being dulled by green haze at any second. And there it is. He can't scream out as his own neck severs in a straight bloodied line.

Jack's officially not himself as he steps out the closet.

"Better luck next time." Anti mocks. There's still people outside. "How about... we sew their lips clear shut with fear?" What the hell? No! It's one bad joke. I don't care that much. "Don't you?" He's heading to the kitchen now. No. Why do you care anyways? It has nothing to do with you. "Because October is great. You're all looking for the next scare. I'm able to do whatever I want, have as much fun as I can in 31 days. They don't even care. They love it." He's searching through the knife rack, inspecting every one. "Then it's o͢͠ve̴r̡͟. Then you all focus on the next holiday. You all stop paying attention. There's just... So. Many. Distractions."

The glitch strides into the living room. It lifts up the snow globe that was brought out with Jack and Signe's Christmas decorations.

"But this Christmas, everything will change."

Jack is helpless as the demon tosses the snow globe in the direction of their fireplace. He doubts the glass will burn but the tiny house and tree inside will. The glass certainly shatters from the impact. How is he going explain this to Signe? She gave him that snow globe for their first Christmas together. It was one of his favourite holiday decorations. Now it was gone forever.

The malicious entity sat on Jack's bed, conniving. Tonight would be the best night for the job. After all, it was Christmas Eve. By tomorrow, the level of celebrations would be at its peak. They wouldn't care about anything other than their presents and food by then. However, if they had no gifts to get joy from, their attention would free to go elsewhere.

There was some commotion outside, attracting the demon's attention. A crowd had gathered outside Mark's house. Oh, was it already time for his obnoxiously bright lights to come on? Jack could never work out why Mark and Amy bothered to invite the entire neighbourhood for a five second activity. There was all the hype, he supposed. At least they only turned their light on the evening of the 24th. It was meant to 'show Santa where he could land'. God knows the damned things kept him up the entire night, twinkling away. Why did he have to live opposite Mark again?

He spotted Signe mingling with Ethan. Jack wasn't surprised to see her here. After all, it was Signe who usually tried and failed to convince him to attend Mark's light party. He tended to argue they could watch the dumb lights be turned on from their bedroom, sparing themselves the cold.

Anti didn't appear to find dressing as Santa Claus too difficult. Jack couldn't even recall when he'd bought the outfit. He had certainly worn it for the charity stream earlier this month. Regardless, the red jacket and trousers with white frills slipped on easily. He questioned the inclusion of black gloves but it wasn't his revenge plot so... whatever. He was only coming along for the ride because he was physically forced to.

Mark's party lasted longer than he'd expected. It was well past midnight before everyone in the cul-de-sac was sound asleep. Ethan's was the first home the demon targeted. His friend was completely oblivious to the theft when they left. He had even stolen some gasoline from Ethan, stating he would 'need it for later'.

With every house, Anti gathered every last present from under the tree into the Bag-For-Life he had stolen from Jack's home. Yeah, the demon wasn't too pleased by its 'sack'. But who actually had a sack like Santa's simply lying around the house? On the rooftop, he would chuck the contents of the bag towards the cul-de-sac's island. How he was able to haul all those fir trees up chimneys was beyond Jack's understanding. Thanks to all the chimney travel, the costume was filthy by the time Robin became a victim.

Once again, the demon took an interest in something other than a present. Robin's box of matches were confiscated with the repeated excuse of their later use. Moments later, he is rummaging through his presents.

I don't have any Yuletide grudge against Robin. Could you at least leave him alone? "I'm not leaving any spares." Look, Robin is my editor. You want to be noticed year-round? I can ask him to add stuff into videos that will help with that. I doubt he'll be too co-operative if I steal from him though. So what do you say? "I say... we'll show them what true misery feels like. Tonight, e͘vȩr̢̕y̵͞t̨͟h̴͢͏ing̸͡ ̢b̡̕u͢r̵n̵͞s̶̢."

"Jack?"

He notices Robin himself cowering at the demon's outburst. He is clearly traumatised by the sight of his possessed friend. Jack wants nothing more than to reassure him it will be okay, that this isn't really him performing criminal acts and his regular self will be back before long. Then again, he doesn't even know if he'll ever come back. Jack hasn't had the best experiences with Anti possessing him. He's been saved by Henrik before, even if it was touch and go. If it happens to him again, how will his friends react? What on earth is Signe going to think? She must have returned from the party to find him missing without any explanation, broken glass everywhere. Not to mention tomorrow when people discover Jack re-enacted The Grinch Who Stole Christmas before dropping dead out of nowhere.

"Don't be stupid." The demon scolds him as they escape through Robin's chimney. "You won't die unless I kill you. Keep telling me what to do. Maybe more than presents will burn."

When every house had been hit, Anti got to work. For the rest of the night, he piled presents upon presents and the occasional tree until they all precariously lay in one giant heap, circling the community's tree. Jack is sure Anti would climb to the peak to pour the gasoline everywhere. Instead, so as to avoid ruining half the night's work, the demon splashed the flammable liquid as high as he could fling it. The flames could work their way up to the top.

"Hey everyone, look outside your window! I have a s̡u͢r͜p͢r͜͏͏is҉e͢͠ for you!"

God knows how many presents were in that pile. And was Jack really counting 16 trees? They definitely hadn't stolen from 16 houses. Which asshole had multiple full-sized fir trees in their home?

Jack feels the disbelieving stares from numerous windows all direct themselves at him and the heap. Anti strikes a single match from Robin's box. With little wind, all it takes is for him to let go and the tiny flame meets flammable liquid. The gasoline gives it a boost. However, it can only race so high. That doesn't stop the fire from climbing, albeit at a reduced pace. It refuses to stop until there is physically nothing else to burn.

Externally, it seems as if he's loving the sight of colourful paper, boxes and what was once part of a natural landscape become blackened. Internally, he is mortified by how mesmerising he found the flames. Why did fire have to be so charming?

"I'm not ending this game. This is only the beginning." Anti announced to everyone. He continued to mock the neighbourhood. "What's that? Christmas is ruined? Isn't that a crying shame."

This is too much. Anti is just standing there, revelling in the destructive heat of the fire. A few residents have ventured out into the cold to witness the events unfolding.

Congratulations, you've ruined everyone's fun. You must be so pleased with yourself. "And you'll get all the blame. After all, who's the one with the matches?" You. You are. And you need to go. Right now. "Weren't we having fun? Visiting your friends, playing hide and seek... Maybe next time you can try harder to hide." Stop taunting me. Jesus, can't you just fucking leave already? "Sure. We can do this all over again at Easter." Jack collapses onto his hands and knees as the demon departs.

"Jack!"

Shit, that was Signe launching herself into a sprint towards him. What would she think of him, after all that Anti's made him do? He's sure she must have been worried this whole time. Before he knows it, her arms are encompassing him. He wants to be comforted but he can't yet. Instead, tears start to leak.

"That wasn't me. I swear, that wasn't me. I didn't-" "Jack, it's okay. You're fine now. It's okay." She mutters in his ear. "No, it's not." Still sitting on his legs, he announces his plans to fix this. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'll buy everything you've lost. You can get it back." It's not an impossible task. It will involve a lot of contacting people and asking what they got his friends. Though inevitably time consuming, it could be done. He can rectify Anti's actions tonight. He only hopes none of the presents in that fire were hand-made or had sentimental value. There is some muttering and nodding amongst his neighbours. If they can think of a better solution, he'll take it.

"Come on, let's get you inside."

He doesn't argue as she ushers him back home. He refuses to admit to anyone, least of all himself, it's much warmer by this massive bonfire than what their central heating could provide. He sits uneasily in the armchair he'd hidden behind hours beforehand. The glass in the living room is all gone. She must have swept it up.

"I'm-" "Sorry, I know. You weren't in control. Nobody is going to blame you for what happened." "They should." It finally comes to his attention that her eyes are bloodshot. Although, she doesn't appear to have been crying recently. "Are you alright? I know I disappeared without warning." "Yeah, I've been up for most of the night. It's fine. At first, I thought this was all Jackieboyman's doing. I was prepared to have a talk with you about him. I figured I might as well ask Marvin and Chase to keep an eye out for you. We all know you have a tendency to be reckless when you wear that suit. Then I found his costume was still here. And your Father Christmas outfit was missing instead. You would have told me if you were out cheering people up. Plus, that didn't explain why our window was smashed. The three of us have been looking for you around town." "And I was here the whole time." "I'm guessing this was Anti." "Yeah." "I can warn the others for you, if you want." She picks up her phone. "There's no point." The flames are still going strong. Phil from three doors down is running with a bucket, shortly followed by his roommate Dan who's carrying a cooking pot. It will be a while before their method of haphazardly throwing water at the bonfire will yield major results. "He's already got what he came for. I'll just have to be better prepared for him next time."

[firstofall-howdareyou]

How was your trip aside from seeing the fantastic show?

Oh it was amazing!! We had an incredible time. I’ll do a play by play with some photos and if you don’t have any interest, just move along haha 

Started out in Niagara Falls on Friday - obviously its a massive tourist trap and has very Pigeon Forge/Gatlinburg vibes, so we had a very expensive dinner for the view that wasn’t worth the value and then checked it out in the daytime that next morning. I think we ended up leaving by like 9:30 am haha

We made a pit stop in Niagara-On-The-Lake on our way to Kitchener and what an adorable little town!! I never got a chance to try ice wine while we were there so I’m going to have to find some somewhere. 

In Kitchener before the show, we explored St. Jacob’s Farmers Market (I got a bag of chippery chips and my friend got a doner kebab which just took me back to London and studying abroad and I miss ittttt) - so many Mennonites working there, it was really interesting. 

We had dinner before the show at The Rich Uncle Tavern in downtown Kitchener and I cannot recommend it enough! It was absolutely delish and such a cool vibe on the inside. 

Headed to Toronto on Sunday morning and I had my first Tim Hortons experience. It was… like every other coffee experience? Also timbits are just donut holes right? Anyways. 

We went to the Royal Ontario Museum (that city pass life) – my friend made a joke about one of the artifacts being yet another thing the western world stole and of course, it was said right in front of a docent who then told us that the museum purchased those items from the Vietnamese a few years ago. Whoops! 

We had lunch at Hemingway’s and it was such a fun place. I imagine when it’s not, you know 38 with 20 mph winds, the patio is a lot cooler, but was really good food! 

After lunch, we got super lost trying to find Casa Loma and ended up wandering around the mansions on Russell Hill Rd before we finally figured out how to get to the ~castle. Which was stunning!!! I felt like we were playing clue with the conservatory/secret passageways. 

That night we grabbed more Tim Hortons to walk ourselves to Yonge-Dundas Square and the Eaton Centre, before we took the subway to the CN Tower. My friend is super wary of heights but I dgaf so we went at night so she would be less scared. 

Then we went to Smoke’s Poutinery for our first poutine experience. omg its both awful and amazing at the same time. If I was drunk, I think you’d have to drag me out of there, but it was just a tad too much gravy for me. 

Monday we did the Aquarium, which was a lot of fun! Thank you to my anon who recommended it. I showed photos of it to one of my nieces last night and she was obsessed. 

Then we went up to graffiti alley, explored some of the shops on Queen Street, etc. and finally went to the Eaton Centre to truly shop. We went floor by floor and into any store that we didn’t recognize haha (no photos of tessa in the rw&co but I did see her on the wall in bonlook!) Managed to grab a Canadian Olympic team shirt from Hudson’s Bay (thanks for that tip!!!) 

And then off to London for our final stop! We headed there a little earlier than I expected so we didn’t have a diner plan. We ended up walking around Covent Garden Market for a bit before going to Milos’ Craft Beer Emporium for dinner/drinks. What a good vibe there. It felt like a lot of bars we have at home, but of course we had to get Ontario beers. I had a sour beer from Bellwoods Brewery (felt fitting with the band) and it was delish. 

Obviously, the fact that Canada let Target fail is horrifying to these Americans, and Google told us that Canadians typically went to Canadian Tire instead, so we had nothing else to do but tour the store that destroyed the best store in the world. Listen. I’m so sorry Canadians, but Canadian tire is trash and I really want you to accept that. It smelled like a mix between an Ollie’s and a KMart. I even messaged someone and said “I can’t believe Tessa Virtue had a m&g in one of these” hahahahaha

Unfortunately, the Bag Lady is closed on Mondays and Tuesdays, so we couldn’t go there, but we went back downtown to The Early Bird for breakfast and it was DELISH and so filling omg. Cannot recommend it enough. 

And then I took my friend on what I called A VM Tour of London HAHAHA 

We started with Bud Gardens because it was right there (as someone who lives in a city that is larger than London but not like… that much larger population wise - wow wow wow that is a small downtown), drove right past Molly Bloom’s, Tessa’s house, and then off to Ilderton, the arena, Scott’s parent’s house, and finally the Skate Shop. 

Can I just pause for a moment and talk about how they picked SUCH a good location for the skate shop? There are new subdivisions going up all over the place right there and its close to the suburbs of London. It was a solid move. Also it’s super cute on the inside!!! They did such a good job. I loved all of the photos they had in there, including 2010 OD Nationals, Mahler, the Greg Kolz ones. Ugh. Well done. 

My friend is SUCH a good friend. Like I cannot stress that enough. I drove and she took photos of everything and I love her for it. 

Finally, we ended up at the Museum London for a bit since it was donation-only and explored that before we hit the 401 and headed home. 

I’m genuinely not kidding when I say that I teared up on the 401 imagining teenage VM making this drive weekly forging their friendship. I got really sappy and I’m not even sorry about it. 

Overall, it was SUCH A FUN TRIP. Thank you to everyone who gave me recommendations on where to go, where to stay and what to eat. 

[lisinfleur]

I’ll Be Your Eyes

Author’s Notes | Sweet request! I hope you like! Universe | Vikings Pairing | Hvitserk x Ubbe’s Best Friend! Reader Info | Viking Age AU, requested by anon for 5CW1 Words | 2528 ⁑ Warnings: Fluffy, romance.

The feared Ragnarssons, for you, were nothing but a bunch of brats you loved more than you could measure.

A little bit younger than Sigurd - months, to be precise - you were almost raised between them, always finding ways to spoil Hvitserk's and Ubbe's dates for fun.

You knew they had approached you because of your two older sisters, but after you spoiled their chances - by telling your younger sister that Hvitserk never washed his mouth after eating and to your older sister Ubbe liked to sneak into barns with the girls and should smell like hay - they ended up becoming your friends.

To be honest, it was fun to remember how you were constantly charged with the fact Ubbe invented you owed Hvitserk a kiss.

"Since you stole my brother's chances with your sister, you owe him a kiss, Y/N. That's more than fair, knowing he would have pretty more than just one kiss if it wasn't for your big mouth!"

A debt you wouldn't be annoyed of paying with interest and correction now...

Hvitserk grew into such a beautiful man... Still a glutton, but absolutely gorgeous and attractive and...

"Where is your mind, sweet Y/N? Your eyes are so lost…" Ubbe's voice interrupted your thoughts and you looked away from him, trying to prevent Ubbe to notice what you were hiding from your best friend for so long.

But due to his giggle, it was easy to see you failed miserably. As always…

"How long will you wait for paying Hvitserk your debt, Y/N? You still owe my brother a kiss. And it seems it won't be a problem now, will it?" he asked, almost mockingly, earning a punch of yours in his shoulder.

"Stop it, Ubba!" you said his name wrong, just to tease him "I owe him nothing and who told you I was thinking about Hvitserk?

" you tried to disguise "I was just looking away, thinking about life".

"Ah..." Ubbe mourned, looking at you in a strange way "What a pity." he commented, attracting your attention.

You knew his eyes more than anything and you knew through them he was doing it on purpose just to make your heart hammer into your chest.

He knew your feelings for his younger brother were long old and there he was, trying to convince you again to confess the secret of your heart.

"Why are you saying that Ubbe?" you asked, confused by the strange tone of his voice.

"Didn't you hear? My brother will leave with Björn to the Mediterranean raid. They're leaving tomorrow morning."

It sounded like an arrow through your heart.

Your sweet hungry prince... The one you hid you loved for all this time, all these years...

He was leaving in a raid, towards the dangers of new lands from where he could never come back.

He was leaving unwarned about the feelings you were never brave enough to confess.

"What's wrong, Y/N? Is there something you wanna tell him before he goes?" Ubbe teased you, sassily.

But you looked at him with fear in his eyes, causing him to cut the sassiness and stop the teasing, instantly becoming supportive.

"I don't know how to tell him the truth... I'm no princess, Ubbe. Neither am I a shieldmaiden. You guys are sons of the great Ragnar Lothbrok. You must marry the best women of our generation and I'm far from being one of these." you said, and Ubbe sighed.

"Did you ever stop to think how much weight you people put over our shoulders?" he started, confusing your expression before he could start explaining. "Oh, we are the sons of the great Ragnar Lothbrok! We must be great warriors, become great kings, marry great women, become legends like our father... Y/N, you know us better than that. What if one of us only wants to settle down and be a farmer?"

"This one is not Hvitserk, for sure!" You stated, looking at Ubbe "Hvitserk wants to be great. He wants to make his fame and surely he wants a glorious shieldmaiden to bear his children..." you mourned.

Not hiding your heart from your best friend anymore.

"What Hvitserk wants, you can give him." Ubbe said, looking at you "He wants to be loved, Y/N. More than glory and fame, Hvitserk wants a wife who will lovingly wait for him to return. He wants a woman in which he can trust. A woman that won't do with his children what mother did to us." he sighed "Hvitserk wants love. And you have love to give him. He's at the docks. My suggestion is for you to go up, walk there, and tell my brother about your heart before it's too late."

You couldn't deny he was right.

You knew people could paint them as gods and sometimes they would exaggerate things, but you knew Ubbe and his brothers better than anyone else and you knew they weren't what people wanted to believe they were.

"Go there," Ubbe insisted. And so, you gave up and got up. "Yes..." he smiled bigger "Go there and tell my brother what you feel. I warrant you'll get a surprise".

"What if you're wrong, Ubbe?" you asked, scared "What if he laughs at me or... Or reject me... We would never be friends anymore. I don't wanna lose him, Ubbe," you said, confessing your major fear about your feelings towards Hvitserk.

You never wanted him to become distant and your friendship to be broken because you couldn't keep your mouth shut.

However, Ubbe touched your shoulders with a smile and you could read in his eyes there was something more. Something he knew that was making him so sure of the words he had for you.

"I know my brother, Y/N. He may be sassy and playful, but Hvitserk would never hurt you. Come. I'll take you to the docks. Trust me, tell him. I promise you won't regret it".

His smile caused you to feel your chest warm and you accepted his hand extended towards you, following Ubbe towards the docks.

There, the young prince was into one of Björn's boats, helping the men to set up the sails and cords, checking details.

Your heart clenched inside your chest one more time: he was really going. It wasn't Ubbe's games or anything like this.

You searched into Ubbe's eyes for some security, receiving a tender smile when his hand touched your shoulder, softly pushing you forward.

"Go there..." he insisted.

You walked that dock as if you were walking the last line before an abyss, about to fall towards the unknown.

Hvitserk's eyes caught you coming and you saw that bright smile in his face you loved so badly, opening wide when he jumped boat, coming towards you.

"Y/N! Good to see you!" he said, so proud.

He seemed to be so excited about the raid to come.

But you tried to focus on what you came to do, looking towards Ubbe who nodded, trying to encourage you to talk.

You looked back at Hvitserk, who was now looking at you curious about your expression and the exchange of glares between you and his brother.

"What?" he asked, looking towards Ubbe and then, at you again, seeming confused.

"Is it true you're leaving with Björn towards the Mediterranean?" you tried to start from somewhere and the smile opened wide in his face once again.

"Yes. We'll go for new lands and that map he found in Paris. I'm so excited! It will be awesome to know new places and..." you lost the trace of his words, even your eyes were still observing his gestures and smiles, showing the boats, talking about the travel as if it wasn't suffocating you to think he was leaving towards the unknown, risking to vanish forever like so many other men already did, swallowed by Rán's waves or sent straight to Valhalla for the battles they would certainly find in their ways to the new places Björn wanted so fervently to discover.

What words could you say to make that smile smaller in his face?

How could you dare ask him to stay when he was so happy about the departure?

How could you tell him the secrets of your heart when your mouth was silent and your mind empty of sentences that could make him understand?

Without thinking, you cupped Hvitserk's face, cutting his sentence in the middle when he looked at you, surprised with your gesture.

But surprised, even more, when your lips mashed against his in a kiss he wasn't expecting to receive.

You closed your eyes, knowing into your heart he would push you away. Waiting for him to react against your approaching.

However, it wasn't what you felt.

Soon the surprise in his face gave place to closed eyes and he answered your kiss, deepening the contact. His hands embraced your waist, bringing your body closer to his warmth, against his chest, involving you completely in his scent.

You melted in his hands and he made the kiss even deeper, exploring your mouth, long enjoying a moment you never thought would ever happen between the two of you.

When the need for air forced you to separate, he made it slow, parting his lips from yours in sweet pecks, keeping his face closer to yours when he opened his eyes to look into yours, searching for answers.

You swallowed dry.

Now, it couldn't be denied.

"I owe you nothing... My debt is paid and... You cannot charge me kisses anymore," you tried to make a joke, but Hvitserk's fingers slid through the side of your face, straightening your hair to the back of your ear, softly nuzzling his nose against yours.

"Is that it?" he said, looking at you, "Was it only the payment for your debt, Y/N? Because I felt something more... It wasn't just a kiss... Tell me. Let me hear it..." he asked.

His eyes deeply into yours as your breaths were shocking whenever your voices sounded so low, like secrets to each other.

"I love you," you confessed, trying to make it quickly, sounding low.

Almost a whisper that made Hvitserk's lips curve in a beautiful smile.

He touched your forehead with his, caressing your face in his hands, sliding his thumbs in your cheeks, giggling.

"My brother told you, didn't him?" he asked, causing your face to contort in a confused expression.

"What?" you asked back, and Hvitserk looked at you.

"He told you about my heart. I'm sure... Ubbe can't keep his mouth shut. But I'm glad he did it... I would never be brave enough to confess you my heart... To tell you how much I wanted to feel you this way, sweet Y/N."

His words surprising you more than anything in the world: Hvitserk was... In love with you?

He continued, causing you to feel even more surprised while his thumbs were caressing your cheeks and his words warming your heart.

"I always thought you would reject me, knowing how many women I had in my bed. But you're not like them, Y/N, you were never like them and maybe this is why I never tried to touch or have you before. You're special... I don't want to take you to my bed. I want you to be my wife."

Your eyes became wide and you looked at him completely surprised.

You couldn't avoid looking back at a smiling Ubbe who was coming near the two of you through the dock.

"So, he finally told you?" Ubbe asked, receiving a gaze from his brother.

"You gossiper," Hvitserk said, embracing your waist.

"What? Me? Oh, no, no, I didn't tell her anything about you, brother," Ubbe said, causing Hvitserk to look at you surprised this time.

"It's true, Hvitserk... Ubbe just told me you're leaving tomorrow and encouraged me to come and tell you about my heart... Because he knew I loved you as well. But he didn't tell me you were... In love... With me, I... I didn't know" you confessed, blushed and red as a rose.

"Tomorrow?" Hvitserk asked, looking at Ubbe who shrugged.

"I might have mistaken the dates... Quite a little..." Ubbe said, with a playful smile in his face, surprising you when Hvitserk revealed the truth.

"Around a month? We'll leave in a month, Ubbe! You fucking bastard!" Hvitserk giggled, pushing his brother's shoulder, causing you to look at Ubbe surprised.

"You lied to me!" you accused, pushing him as well and Ubbe smiled at both of you.

"Oh, for the gods' sake! You were drooling over him for years, and Hvitserk was talking about you all the time, about how much he wanted to be brave enough to ask you to marry him before he could leave with Björn, how happy he would be if he could be with you. Well... I just provided what both of you wanted, now, you may start thanking me for asking the blacksmith to forge you a pair of alliances..." Ubbe said, causing you to sigh surprised.

But Hvitserk, instead, smiled tenderly.

"Give them to the priestess, to give my bride a way to her future husband in the next weekend, when I'll make sweet Y/N my dear wife," he said, causing you to look with large eyes towards him.

"Are you... The two of you... You can't be... The next weekend?" you stammered, causing Ubbe to giggle and Hvitserk to smile, caressing your chin.

"Yes. The next weekend. And yes, I'm serious, sweet Y/N. I want you to marry me the next weekend and so, we'll have three weeks to enjoy ourselves and maybe, when I come back from the Mediterranean Sea, the gods will have blessed your womb to gift me with a child." he said, caressing your belly before cupping your face once again. "I couldn't want anything else. Please, tell me you'll be my wife."

Any other woman would say it was too quick.

But you knew Hvitserk for years. Your sisters were married for arrangements with Earls loyal to Kattegat's crown, knowing their husbands one week before marrying them...

You were lucky.

You would marry your prince for love.

You knew him for a lifetime.

And there wasn't any other man you wanted to seed you with child and build a family by your side but your sweet Hvitserk.

"I do. I'll be your wife, Hvitserk. I'll marry you and give you children. And live by your side until the end of my days." you said softly, seeing that bright smile opening wide in his lips once again before he kissed you long and deep.

Passionately.

"You should name your first son after me," Ubbe joked when your lips parted from Hvitserk's, causing your groom to giggle. "What? After all, I was responsible for him to come into this world, wasn't I?"

"Oh, of course, Ubbe. I should name him Ubbe indeed," Hvitserk winked at you before completing the joke, causing Ubbe to hit his shoulder with a playful punch "Ubbe, the gossiper!"

You smiled, happily seeing them both playing with each other.

Your favorite boys in this world...

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[noradarhkpalmer]

Somewhere in the Crowd There’s You

Title: Somewhere in the Crowd, There’s You

Rating: G

Pairing: Nora Darhk/Ray Palmer aka Darhkatom

Warnings: None unless you count too much fluff.

Summary/Notes: Nora is finally released from prison, Ray has come to pick her up. The idea came to me when I was driving home today playing the “Mamma Mia: Here We Go Again” soundtrack and remembered that my faves love musicals. So here is them embarrassingly jamming out to what I was embarrassingly jamming out to. 

I cannot believe the absolute trash for Darhkatom that I have become. There is not nearly enough fanfic out there for them. I have a freaking ship type and they fit right in so I guess I should’ve seen it coming. This is set at a pretty undisclosed time whenever the heckadoodle Nora gets out of prison. That’s all. PS. this is my first foray with them so I promise to get better at writing their lighter moments.

All she had today was a small stack of books from Mona, all of Ray’s letters, and a spare change of clothes. She had apparently helped the Legends enough to warrant her release. Good faith and probably a good shag from Captain Lance had convinced Director Sharpe to release her into the Legend’s probationary care, specifically Ray Palmer’s. She still wasn’t sure what they were. He came to see her often, three times a week, the same time each day like clockwork. Mona would usually spy on them through the small window in the door, not because Director Sharpe asked her to, but because for some reason Mona was more invested in their relationship than anything else.

She had all of her things in one big bundle. When she left her containment facility she was fully expecting to be met at the elevators by Sharpe to take her up to the helipad to meet Ray at the jump ship, instead they escorted her out a side door, much to her confusion. After a collection of walked between her and whatever stood on the other side, a firing squad maybe? She finally realized what was going on.

There was Ray, leaning against a sports car looking handsome as ever in a leather jacket, with his ATOM suit probably tucked into a small hidden pocket. She crossed her arms over her chest and walked towards him, surprised to be able to walk so freely in fresh air. It felt good. Almost normal. Which she supposed that was what she was, almost normal. An ex-demon vessel being released into probationary custody of her sort of boyfriend-advocate.

“Nice ride, please tell me you stole it.” She raised an eyebrow.

Ray gave her a big goofy grin and pulled her into a bear hug. “No of course not this is mine.”

“There will be no grand theft auto while you’re on probation or really ever, Miss Darhk. That among other things are strictly forbidden and any infraction no matter the circumstances will land you right back into your old containment facility.” Director Sharpe’s voice cut through the moment she was letting herself have with Ray and she broke free from his hug.

“I understand... it was just a joke.”

“Limit those, too, we don’t want the Time Bureau to misunderstand your actions for something that may violate your parole.”

“Understood... director...” She swallowed hard and watched a Time Agent hand Ray a clear duffle bag full of what little belongings she had. He placed it in the trunk of the car and then opened the passenger side door for her. She slid into the seat and stared ahead, Ray exchanged some pleasantries because when was he ever actually unpleasant? And then he got back into the car and they were off.

“Where are we going? Where’s the jump ship?”

“Oh the Legends? They practically forced me out the airlock when we landed in Central City and left me here.”

She raised a brow. “And you’re okay with that?”

“Well, I mean I’m sure if they need me they’ll know where to find me.”

“And where is that, exactly?”

“The beach, you Miss Nora Darhk, are getting some much needed R&R. I still own my share of a private beach and that’s exactly where we’re headed.”

“Okay, but please let me remind you that I have no clothes other than the ones I’m wearing, I definitely don’t have clothes for the beach, and honestly, if we had just gone to the Waverider, first we could’ve had all of it fabricated and I wouldn’t have to mentally prepare for the beach.

“C’mon, Nora, are you telling me you never went to the beach?”

She thought about it for a minute then shrugged. “I think my dad took my mom and me once when I was really little, you know pre-talking and pre-demon vessel thing. I’m sure my Minnie Mouse bathing suit and matching sun hat don’t fit anymore.”

Ray smiled. “This is part of the fun, don’t worry, we’ll go shopping and then we’ll head to the beach. Just sit back and relax, I’ll play us some music.” He fiddled with the control center on his car for a minute until something came on. 

Nora leaned back in the seat and closed her eyes. As the song progressed it sounded so familiar but she hadn’t heard it in probably over twenty years. She opened an eye to see Ray obviously singing along. She didn’t recognize the voices but she did recognize the lyrics.

“Ray... is this ABBA?”

Ray stopped his best Cher impression and nodded. “Yeah! They came out with another ‘Mamma Mia’ movie this year and it actually pretty good. This is the movie soundtrack’s version of ‘Super Trouper’, my favorite and honestly most underrated song of the entire album.”

Nora broke out in a grin, reaching back to the memory of her 14 year old self at Jitters singing Oklahoma with him. That’s right. He loved musicals too. “Turn it up.”

“What?” Ray asked.

“I said turn it up!” She felt herself letting go more and more as they drove further and further away from the Time Bureau.

Ray grinned. “Yes, ma’am!” He turned it up a bit more and resumed singing. Nora joined him and sang along. He started moving his head to the beat and she joined him in that as well. He could stay like this with her for the rest of his life.

[specswritesstuff]

The Necklace

The tale of how Francis’ beloved cross necklace became his, became damaged, became stolen and became repaired. This is a warm up but I hope you enjoy nonetheless :)

Stunning blue eyes, soft hair, a pretty smile and a musical laugh. Those were Francis’ favorite things about Jeanne besides the fire of passion within her soul. Back in the day, when he met her, he had become enamored with her, Antonio said it was a phase, Gilbert only laughed but it was true...Francis had fallen for a human, one of the biggest mistakes a nation could make. He would walk her to church and put flowers in her hair, he’d listen intently to her stories- sometimes pretending he forgot a story so she would tell him again! Her voice and her way of storytelling both dragged you in and made you listen. The two became very good friends- but never lovers. Francis would kiss her cheeks in a friendly manner or hold her hands while listening to tales from her childhood but he never pushed what they had. He was bitter, it always hurt to know that he would outlive her by infinite lifetimes...He knew that she would never understand him, most humans didn’t...He knew that he should never have fallen in love but the heart does what it wants.

Jeanne gave Francis a beautiful cross necklace as a gift of friendship. It was a bit dull, a bit too long and a bit chunky but he loved it. He swapped out his old cross necklace for the new one Jeanne gave him and never took it off, even when it didn’t go with his outfits- that didn’t matter.

All good things eventually had to come to an end...Like Jeanne’s life. Francis was not there to see her go, to see her struggle against the flames. He wishes to this day that he could have been there to offer support or to fight for her but he could not have. He cursed the English, he clawed and scratched at Arthur when he dared to show his face around him again

“Demon! Scum! You killed her!” He had screamed “You killed her and you feel no remorse!”

“I do feel it, Francis! Did you think it was my decision? If it was up to me, it would not have been done! That woman would never have been killed!”

“She has a name! She had a life and you filthy English took it from her!” Francis had spat on Arthur’s shoes, shouting for his housestaff to get Arthur out while he retreated to his wine cellar to drown his sorrows in weak alcohol and tears. All he had left of her was that necklace.

He rarely took the necklace off from then on. When he did, he always put it somewhere safe for fear of someone messing with it. Slowly, his relationship with Arthur was repaired, he somewhat forgave him and his people for what they did...He was still grieving internally- through the stages of grief, even years later he never hit acceptance. Francis cannot see ghosts but he can sense them. When he’s feeling hopeless or lost, occasionally he’ll feel a hand on his shoulder or hear a soft whisper...It is her. He can never accept that she is gone since she continues to visit him in the afterlife.

Wearing that necklace got him through many rough years. Through his people hating him, through his royalty being beheaded, through debt and poverty, through the First World War even. He would keep that necklace close to his heart and just pray that his dear Jeanne would be there to protect him, to give him some sort of hope when all seemed lost.

When the Second World War came around, he was so tired. He was tired of the fighting, tired of his ears ringing, tired of the constant pain in his chest- the pain that signaled the mass murder of his people. He could feel each death, one could never get used to that feeling.

Francis himself was captured by the Germans, his country too but of course they stole him away from France, taking him to a place he didn’t recognize in Germany. He was chained up to a chair, unable to move since he was weak already, and interrogated

“I’m telling you, I do not know anything” he repeated over and over but the soldiers had none of it. They shouted and slapped him, shouted some more and when they didn’t get what they wanted, they left the room...It was eerily silent...It was dark too and the air itself smelled like dust...It felt like forever until Ludwig himself came into the room. That changed nothing. Francis refused to give that man a bit of information other than the fact that his shoe was untied- which it wasn’t.

Francis never had realized that his necklace was not on his person until Ludwig held it up for him to see...and his world came to a stop

“How did you get that?”

“That isn’t important. What are the British-“

“Ludwig, honestly! Give that back!”

“I will give it back if you tell me where-“

“I cannot tell you anything!”

“Then I cannot give this back” Ludwig stood angrily, leaving the room once again.

Francis’ heart was racing...He had never felt anxiety so strong in his hundreds of years of living. It sounded absolutely ridiculous! It was just a necklace! But it was so much more than just a necklace...

Ludwig returned with a metal pot...It was bright red with heat “This is your last chance, tell me what the British are plotting. I know you know their plan, you sleep with Arthur”

“Ludwig please...I am telling you the truth...I don’t know- Ludwig that is all I have left of her- I’ll do anything else! I-I’ll make food for your soldiers! I- I can...I can make uniforms!”

“That is not needed” Ludwig sighed and dropped the necklace into the pot, holding it out for Francis to watch “It did not have to come to this...”

“It did...I cannot betray my family over a necklace..” Francis’ hands shook, he could barely think as he watched his precious necklace melt. He was overcome with guilt, the fact that he had not protected that necklace the way he should have...And that he had contemplated giving information to get that necklace back.

The melted gold was turned into a Nazi coin and Francis was left in the dark once more.

Once the War was over and Francis had been released back to his own country, Arthur had bought his lover a replacement necklace. Of course, it was a wonderful gesture. It warmed his heart, really it did, but it could not replace the once Jeanne had given to him. He felt attached to that necklace as children do to stuffed animals or how the elderly feel attatched to objects from their past. Sure, nowadays there were artifacts from Jeanne’s house...Her picture was on display and so was her old house...But that necklace was his. Not a museum’s. It was something that was his and only his, nothing for a tourist or a journalist to write about. It was his little piece of her that he got to keep...It was a coin now, a coin that could be anywhere.

Francis eventually came to terms with the fact that it was gone and did his best to move on. He wore the necklace Arthur gave him instead, moving on in life. He painted quite a bit, re-did his kitchen, got a cat as well as a dove, worked in a hospital for a month or so...And eventually, he was proposed to by his beloved Englishman. It was quite the surprise, one he honestly had not expected!

Their wedding was months later. Their suits matched, they were married by Feliciano and Lovino, they had their first kiss as well as their first dance as husbands! They both cried a lot that day, out of pure joy, out of the fact that they were truly together to live out their long lives together as one...But tears were shed for another reason too

Towards the end of the night, Ludwig approached the hall couple, carrying a small box. Francis, of course, was apprehensive but he accepted the little gift to be polite. Arthur watched as the little box was popped open to reveal a Nazi coin

“Is this some sort of sick joke?” Arthur spat while Francis stared at the coin in shock

“Wait- Wait is this..? Is this my coin?” Francis asked and Ludwig nodded

“It was not mine to keep...I forgot that I even had it until I felt it in my coat pocket...”

“...Merci...”

That coin was melted down within four days. It was melted back into a lovely, new, cross necklace. Francis had it engraved with Jeanne’s name and the year of her death, honoring her in the best way he could.

Francis didn’t wear this new necklace every day. He swapped it out for Arthur’s occasionally so his British husband would see him wearing his gift too, but it felt so good to have that back. It didn’t look exactly the same- not at all really, it was smaller now- but it felt fantastic to have that piece of history back with him again in its rightful place...

[raineruxpin]

Somewhere, I just stopped engaging it. I purposely set boundaries around it and this made her turn on me. This happened a long time ago, but the result is we finally agreed it was over, and she took herself away. She also took things and lied, then placed the blame on me when I called her out and refused to engage in her narcissism. Then she made herself invisible to me for who knows what end. Finally, she then entered my place after she'd moved out, and stole an expensive custom and personally sentimental pair of shoes. I saved up for a long time to get those, so she knew it would hurt me, because I'd be made out as the unstable one for trying to do anything about it. She'd use my mental health as a pawn in her quest to punish me for letting her steal something that I worked hard for and was saving for a special occasion, because it meant she couldn't center herself in my joy anymore. Now, months later, I've moved into a cheaper place, but alone, so am barely making ends meet and will be paying off the debt on this long enough to hopefully have room to find an even cheaper place after this place raises its rent next year and max out my shit, yet again. In this time all of my family has deserted me or gaslit me into being threatened by my father with gun violence. He's literally a Nazi, and my brother and all his kids are too, and since they present a danger to girls like me, I cannot have them in my life. This means I can't have those that condone them being Nazis in my life either, which means even my mother, the only person who has shown me any respect this whole fucking time, I have to consider dead now because she won't even stand up for me. My son hates me because his mom and stepmother have spent his entire life keeping him away from me and denigrating me, also using my mental health as a pawn to justify this rift that feels insurmountable. I didn't ask for this. I'm just trying to live and learn and understand my condition better. I hope I never need meds because I don't ever want to be like that. All the joy and life removed from a person's essence. It's horrifying. I'm the tragic trans schizoid with ptsd and absolutely no sense of subtlety. Fat, old and abandoned, barely making ends meet. I won't be missed when I'm gone. They'll make jokes about me. Call me it. Deny my humanity. Then forget I was ever here. Just like all the people who said I was their friend over the years and disappeared once they got finally decided to actually get to know me. I'm so empty inside from everything I've lost from these countless vultures that have picked my bones clean for their amusement. I welcome the peace that comes after my circle has been completed. I also know there is still more pain to come for me. My existence reminds people that the world isn't the lie they believe it is. The lie makes them feel comfort, and some will even kill to maintain the comfort of the lie, than to be uncomfortable and be accountable to the truth. I don't have the privilege to live in that world because my truth makes me an outsider to it by default. Maybe one day those whove othered me will understand how much I've been shit on for no reason, how much danger and constant dehumanization that I constantly face, and maybe even feel bad for how they've treated me. I'm pretty certain I won't be around to see it. I'd love to be proven wrong about my family and so-called friends one day, but hope is for fools, and I don't have the patience to suffer them.

[aviationfiction]

XXX

Dante St. James

Upon slipping the other Air Jordan I sneaker onto my foot, I glanced towards the slightly uncovered enormous window and glossed my eyes over the unrivaled Los Angeles skyline. Though there’s is no way possible it can compete with New York City’s and the view of it I have from my own bedroom, it did a decent enough job in relaxing my body and allowing my mind to focus on the hectic day ahead. I’d made it through a mental rundown of this afternoon’s tasks before the stirring between the sheets of the canopy style California King Bed abruptly interrupted my thought process and completely captured my attention. As the rays of the sun subtly peaked through the curtain’s opening, they cascaded over her ever smooth skin and illuminated her nudity and the top sheet that barely covered it. I froze; partially because I didn’t want to awaken her but most of all, because it’s become a normal response to the breathtaking sight that I can’t quite get enough of or used to.

Over the years of coming into my manhood, my version of my dream woman transition from being a foolish figment of my imagination to an afterthought because the concept seemed not only dated, but childish. For friends and the occasional cousins who were within my age bracket, their versions of that particular woman consisted of about five to ten different celebrity women morphed into one person with the capabilities of a God, domesticated nature of their mothers, and the intimate capabilities of their wildest dreams while yet trapped into the unrealistic sexist standard of being untouched by any other man. As a matured, I began to seek instant compatibility. I figured that it was a fair enough necessity to judge a woman and relationship by. It’s what also withheld me from going beyond simple conversations and trapped me in a limited amount of dates. My short lived college relationship seemed to have started with a decent amount of compatibility and yet the lack of there being enough drifted us apart. Later on down the line, I revised that standard to testing out the waters and seeing if we could learn to be compatible. I lived that life with Samira for a couple of months and realized it had no standing. I then left it up to the higher power and universe to work something out and present it to me as one of my greatest gifts at some point in my life or to give me a sign of what to understand and seek while awaiting her. Both happened. As I sit here and stare at the being that has become an essential in my own world, I know that she is the woman of my dreams. I cannot deny questioning it and even wallowing in fear for having fell so hard in such a quick paced manner and yet every question has been answered, every fear is quickly alleviated, and every prayer is answered with a deeper understanding of who we are individually and as partners. My life hasn’t been the same since my eyes landed on her tear stained face. Days after that encounter, I found myself bitterly chuckling because she filtered into my thoughts and remained locked there despite my multiple attempts to distract myself. My nights in bed were filled with questions of her well being. My urge to get back to that jet company exceeded any other desire I had. What I thought was vacuous infatuation turned into this; all of this. My humility and thankfulness is boundless.

“Babe.” As her groggy voice filled my ears, I quickly stood up and approached her side of the bed. When she reached for the empty side, I leaned over to soothe her with a kiss to the side of her neck and a soft caress to her bare thigh.

“Go back to sleep. I have a few things to do so I’m heading out.”

“What time is it?” As she placed her hand over mine, I contemplated whether I should tell her that or not.

“Noon. It’s still early. Continue resting okay? Neither one of us slept much.” I had every urge to climb back into bed, wrap her up into my arms again, and fall back into the slumber my body so badly wanted but last minute details are awaiting me and I’d rather not have another deafening wake up call from Stacey.

 “Okay. I love you.” The words flowed from her supple lips so effortlessly and arose those normal chills I get in the napes of my neck whenever we’re within one another’s presence. My lips met the side of her neck once more and then the soft skin of her cheek as she drifted back into her slumber.

“I love you too.” I placed my American Express Centurion card and fifteen hundred dollars in cash on a nightstand before quietly exiting the bedroom and closing the door behind me. Fredrick’s slick persuasion caused us all to end up at Playhouse last night, including Stacey who rolled her eyes at the thought of being in the Los Angeles nightclub amongst the disgustingly small circle that is Hollywood’s celebrity scene. All it took was one drink for me and about two for Autumn to worsen our already raging hormones. I don’t even remember the poor excuse we used to leave, but we were gone within an hour of our arrival and pulling one another’s clothes off before the door to our executive suite could close behind us. Somewhere in the midst of catching our breaths and yet her straddling my lap for round two, she playfully scolded me for having sweated out her hair and stated that I’d be paying for it to be styled for the Baraya Los Angeles grand opening tonight. I’m keeping my word. The cash is for her hair and the card is for whatever catches her eyes if she passes by some stores around the city. I’ve yet to see what she intends on wearing this evening but I’m assured in whatever it is being a cause for us to sweat out her hair yet again but at least the event would be behind us.

Before exiting the suit, I grabbed my Nike backpack off the living room couch and tossed it over my shoulder as the door closed behind me. The elevator ride was as quiet as I needed it to be and surprisingly, so was the walk through the main lobby of The Four Seasons. I knew I was the last one to leave out of my comfort zone because Mike had already texted me and told me that I was on “light skinned people time” while they waited for me to come downstairs.

“What took you so long? Don’t pull that Mariah Carey ass shit no more.” Drips of Fredrick’s Gatorade trickled down the side of his mouth as he laughed at Mike’s unnecessary complaint and my middle finger was the only response that I could muster up.

“You look tired. Have you slept?”

“Not much.” Stacey examined my face and her eyes narrowed in curiosity as she awaited an excuse for why that was.

“Why not?”

“Y’all ready to go? This isn’t court. What am I being interrogated for?”

“Oh, I get it. You’re cranky because you and Autumn were humping all night long even though you knew you had to get up early. Now you’re tired as hell.” Of course she’d go there. Even if her assumption was completely inaccurate or baseless, she’d still go there because she can’t help herself nor is there a filter in her throat that waters down anything she says. “Go ahead and tell me I’m lying.”

“You’re not lying Stace. Look at his face. Most of all, look at his neck.” Fredrick pointed at a spot on the left side of my neck and I instantly reached my hand up to cover whatever love mark it could have possibly been. I don’t know how I missed it while glancing at myself in the mirror as I brushed my teeth.

“There’s nothing there, but you damn sure just told on yourself.” Their laughter was loud enough to catch the attention of a number of people exiting through the revolving door. Though my lips curved into a subtle smirk, I suppressed my own laughter so I could refrain from giving them the satisfaction of getting off a shitload of jokes on me today.

“Y'all are clowns.”

“Aye man. It’s a beautiful thing.” Before Mike could pat my back in jest, I opened the door behind me and stepped outside. “She stole you from us and I’ve come to terms with that. We all have. You’re married and you’re not even married. Shit, are you married? I don’t know when it comes to you two these days.”

“Nah. I’m not married yet.”

As we piled into the awaiting SUV and took the thirty minute drive to our now completed Los Angeles location, I was thankful Stacey called for a driver. My sleepiness would spark up a restlessness that wouldn’t have been able to handle the never-ending and absolutely ridiculous Los Angeles traffic. While New York is supposedly the city that never sleeps, it’s laughable to speak on our rush hours when there’s literally always traffic on the roads and highways on the West Coast. There doesn’t even have to be an accident, construction, or some trivial hold up. The traffic is embedded within the city’s day to day life. It’s a norm that I can’t get with which is hilarious because I have a home in Malibu that I plan to live in at some point in my life. I suppose I have to mentally toughen myself up to bare it, but for now?

Hell no.

“This is absolutely breathtaking. You three have yet to do anything less than amaze me.”

Twenty-four floors above the downtown skyline, Baraya at The W Hotel, Los Angles is the embodiment of three visionaries coming together to supersede what we’d already done out in New York City. Initially, there was the idea tossed around of literally replicating the New York restaurant’s interior design and ambiance but it was myself who tossed that idea out of the window when I explained how both cities are absolutely nothing alike. While the three of us have our own biases towards the city we were raised in, there had to be acknowledgement of the Los Angeles tourists and it’s natives who stand by their city, it’s impact, and most of all, the vibe. After having secured a deal with the W Hotel, and choosing to build it on it’s top floor, it was a no brainer to use the skyline as the sole influence for the interior. Fredrick implemented the concept of creating a dining and lounging experience perfectly meshed together for a variety of age groups to enjoy. A group of women could come and relish an outing together for a girl’s night, a man can impress the hell out of the woman of his affections with a date night, and it’s the perfect setting for business dinners or an outing with colleagues. The custom pendant lighting served as a continuation of the L.A. skyline, by pulling it inside and continuing it above the heads of our guests. The atmosphere of the New York location is all about sophistication but this one is all about the grown and sexy. It makes me damn near want to remodel.

“Thanks Stace. I can’t believe it all came together like this. Look at this place.” Mike turned in a complete circle and crossed his arms over his chest in a moment of pride and contentment.I nodded. Hell, there was a point I doubted we’d be able to close the deal with Starwood. I don’t give a damn how educated we are, the accomplishments that followed, and the wealth that we’ve amassed. There has never been an instance where in some capacity we weren’t reminded of the color of our skin and our “place” when conducting business and trying to close a deal that no one within our ethnic background has attempted. Whether it’s the extensive research into our backgrounds and the onslaught of questions that follows it or the snide remarks about our kind and culture that are masked as jokes, it’s never as easy to leave the table with agreements made and contracts signed as it would be if we were of their kind. Not only does it take genuine determination, it takes being just as much of a shark, master manipulator, and slick fuck as they are. If I had to give Richard credit for anything in my life other than childhood financing, it would certainly be that.

“Not to sound arrogant, but this is the kind of place I could see myself eating dinner or having a drink at frequently. This is literally my style and I’ve yet to see anyone master that other than us. It’s was perfect switch shit up with the restaurant while keeping the nightclub as golden and first class as the one in New York. We gave them something new and yet something known and raved about. Pat your damn selves on the back fellas; shit you too Stacey. You’re always the essential helping hand we need. This is our accomplishment.” His words reigned truth in every single sense. Stacey isn’t only essential in helping. We see to it that she has actual stake in most of our endeavors. Initially she argued against it, but we wouldn’t have it any other way.

“A shot to that?” I suggested as I pointed at the fully stocked bar. Since our bartenders weren’t in yet for the grand opening this evening, it was left up to me to pour everyone’s vice into four glasses. Fredrick? Patròn Silver. Mike? Rèmy Martin XO. Stacey? Malibu Coconut Rum. She’s a lightweight. Myself? The good ol’ potent Hennessy.

“Shots not only to accomplishing yet another goal we set out to make happen, but also to being a family and continuing to do all of this together. I wouldn’t want it any other way. Love, family.” The sound effect of our glasses clinking together solidified our toast and we tossed back the contents inside of the glasses.

“Lets get a good look at downstairs and then get out of here. I promised Erica I’d take her to find shoes and accessories for tonight and then I need to pick up a shirt from the Tom Ford store over on Madison.” Fredrick tossed the glass on the counter and Stacey smirked as her eyebrow flew up.

“Mr. Only Spend My Money On Me is taking his girlfriend shopping? So you really love her huh? It’s quite interesting to see you all letting go of those boyish ways and actually becoming grown men. You all literally proved that men are teens until they’re damn near forty. How cliché.”

“First of all, I’m not damn near forty. Second, I’m not selfish. I just don’t prefer to spend the money I work my ass off for on temporary people. Third, I do love her. I can’t even deny that.”

“Oh shit. He finally admits it. It only took your ass how long? A year and some change? Shit, two years? You’ve been knowing her for a minute and refused to even acknowledged that you liked her. Then you denied being in a relationship. Now you’re in love? You and this Al B Sure face ass really has Satan chilling in winter gear right now.” Our laughter filled the entire room as Mike finished his statement and I shook my head at his antics. He’ll never fail to make his additional two cents a mixture of truth, jokes, and insults to keep the moments lighthearted between all of us. He and Stacey are notorious for it and yet the both of them serve as the perfect balance of tough love and endless support that both Fredrick and I need. “You’re taking her to Christian Louboutin aren’t you?”

“Shit, probably. That and Giuseppe are her favorite spots.”

“If you’re dropping stacks on shoes, I know this man here is probably buying Autumn property. He’s vomit worthy romance film in love with Esmerelda.”

“Esmerelda?” Stacey and I both called out the name in unison. His statement went completely over my head. I can’t even get Autumn to allow me to buy her a pair of socks let alone some property. I just want to spoil her. I know men typically do it for the stroking of their own egos, but for me it’s because she deserves it. She doesn’t spoil herself enough. She gives me a challenge when it comes to doing it on a normal day to day and is keeping up with that when it comes to her birthday. This evening, I’m wearing a damn near seven thousand dollar watch she gifted to me for mine and yet all she wants is a pair of Kanye West’s kicks for her birthday. Her stubbornness is wild.

“She looks like her. Y'all never seen The Hunchback of Norte Dame? Autumn looks just like Esmerelda.”

“You watch Disney on your spare time?”

“Shut the fuck up. I know what I’m talking about. Look it up. Your girl looks like her.”

“Okay, Mike. I see what those young ass paralegals you be running through has you watching during pillow talk.” I glanced back at his widened eyes as I turned to towards the elevators and the sounds of him pleading his case for why my claim is inaccurate made me snicker the whole entire way downstairs to the nightclub. He’ll refuse to admit it but a lot of those paralegals literally aspire to work in the same building as him. He's a hot commodity around his firm but the best part about it is there isn’t a single person who’s employed there who doesn’t respect and appreciate him. No matter what their job position is, their ranking, or the amount of money they’re bringing in, I’ve yet to ever hear of anyone not speaking highly of him. He’s a hot shot lawyer so it’s a no brainer he’ll have paralegals, legal secretaries, attorneys, and even judges trying to get into his presence on a personal level. I’m just waiting to see which one’s going to actually keep his attention beyond playful flirting or one casual dinner date that every now and then leads to a night in their bedroom, because it’s damn sure not happening in his. The day I hear about him laying up with a woman in his house, is the day I’ll know he’s in love.

Until then he’ll flirt and pretend like he’s too busy to be the sucker for love that he truly is.

Lunch was pizza and because of that, I felt guilty because Autumn wasn’t with us. Before leaving, I ordered a personal pizza for her just in case she wanted it for either lunch or some sort of a snack as she readied herself for this evening’s festivities. Upon my arrival back to our privacy, the only signs of her presence were her possessions and her scent. I knew she planned to get her hair done but I thought she was going to pull one of those moves where she pays the hairstylist to make a personal visit to her. Instead, she chose to go to whatever salon Heather suggested. Of course, as I expected, the cash and my credit card were in the place that I left them in. I can already tell that I’m going to have to exhaust myself in trying to get through to her unnecessary pride and make her comfortable enough to confide in me for everything that comes with companionship.

A small smirk tugged at my lips as I glanced at my now steamed shirt hanging on the door of the bedroom’s closet and the rest of my attire for tonight neatly laid out so I’d be able to grab it with ease. On the night table was the jewelry box containing my Cartier watch and cufflinks and my Tom Ford loafers were conveniently at the foot of the bed. A chuckle followed my thoughts of how I’d occasionally picture what it would be life to have a woman doing all of these things for me. What makes it all the more amazing is my lack of expecting it. She does it because she wants to.

I’m so proud of you

While standing in front of the mirror in the suite’s master bathroom, I read aloud the message she wrote on one of the Post-It notes she tacked onto the corner of the mirror on my side the sink.

Your endeavors aren’t what make you successful. It’s your heart. It’s that beautiful mind. It’s your soul.

That message was on it’s own neon green little slip of paper right under the first message. In all of the racing that my mind had been doing, until that toast an hour or two ago, I hadn’t taken a moment to truly bask in yet another task on my list of dream endeavors having been executed and completed. As Autumn has told me time and time again, I tend not to celebrate myself or take time out to enjoy the fruits of my labor. I’m rarely interested in compliments from people outside of my circle and I tend to shrug off theirs as well. I’ve yet to actually stop immediately jumping into what’s next and appreciate the now. It’s Autumn who’s been influencing me to celebrate everything as they come because despite any preparations, you don’t know where life is going to take you next. Her whimsical nature is rubbing off on me in some aspects which is why something as small as her little notes feels so grand. No materialistic item can measure up to her love being put into words and thoughtfully tacked onto a mirror simply to put a smile on my face. To have her be proud of me counts tremendously because she now is apart of the reason why I do everything that I do.

After wrapping up a quick phone call with Stacey, I flopped down on the bed and allowed my body to sink into the comfort of the down comforter and the memory foam it covered. The scent of berries and cinnamon filled my nose as my face meshed against her pillow and I allowed the faint sound of the television to send me to an on and off couple of hours of slumber. Though I heard her when she returned, not even the sound of Autumn doing her best to quietly move around the room could coerce me to move my lazy body off of the bed.

“You can have the bathroom whenever you’re ready Suga. I took my shower.”

“Nah, you can have it. I know you have to finish up your make up and whatever else. I’ll use the other one.” I still hadn’t moved. I could barely lift my head to take a glance at her. When I forcefully opened my eyes, I happened to catch her as she walked around the bed and to the closet. Her wavy hair cascaded down her back and slightly sway with every subtle switch in her walk.

“You’re tired huh? I kept telling you that you should go to bed but no, Mr. Endless Stamina wanted to be the Energizer Bunny.” My groggy chuckle slipped out easily as I thought back to the moments of her warnings that I needed to get some rest and the moans that immediately followed them.

“The Energizer Bunny is just recharging for tonight’s rounds.” Her sudden silence was followed by a pillow crashing into my head. My laughter harmonized with her own and she hit me with it once more before dropping it.

“Go and take your shower.”

“Get in with me.” A chuckle and the shaking of her head quickly followed my request. I should have known she’d deny me.

“Oh, no, no, no. I’ve already done so and I have things to do. I let you sleep longer than I actually should have. So, it’s time to get up and get yourself ready.” I took her into consideration for an additional five minutes and didn't move until she was tugging at my shirt and doing her best to completely pull me out of the the bed. My vengeance was a reach up under her silk robe and smacking my hand into the completely bare flesh it was covering. I had every intention to wait until the last possible hour to handle it but it’s just my luck that the woman I’m in love with and the woman who is undoubtedly my big sister share a trait in staying ahead of things for me. I knew she wasn’t playing when she literally followed me to the second bathroom with my necessities in her hands and closed the door behind me once I was secured inside. As I turned on the shower water, I could faintly hear music being skimmed through. Of course. She rarely, if ever, gets ready without it.

“Do you need help with your cuff links?” In the half an hour I’d spent under the shower head drowning in my thoughts, she further transformed her already sublime appearance and entranced me in her usual manner. Her loosely curled and wavy hair fell over her shoulders in such a full and grand manner while my eyes panned over the make up she’d done on her face. Usually, she keeps it natural looking but this evening, she opted to create some sort of a silvery, muted grey, and maybe even black look over and slightly around her eyes. Everything else was natural, including her nude colored lips, but her eyes were dark and attention grabbing. She’d found a way to not only enhance but to brighten the sage green that I’m obsessed with. Her enthralling beauty should be illegal. It’s graceful and yet the most tantalizing thing ever.

“Thank you.” Once they were in her hands, she carefully secured what was apart of her birthday gift to me on the cuffs of my sleeves and then properly straightened my black cocktail jacket. The floral jacquard print certainly isn’t my taste but she saw something in it that she liked and persuaded me into making it my option for the evening. She also is the reason I’m wearing a white shirt instead of going with black in it’s entirety for every piece I’m wearing. The white is to compliment whatever jumpsuit or pants contraption I’m going to assume is being covered by her robe.

“Are you excited?” Her head swayed from side to side as sound of The O’Jays stimulated and serenaded her soul. I nodded to answer her question and untied the loose knot binding her robe together and allowed it to fall open to reveal what was under it. The suspense was killing me and the revelation completed the job. The angelic white against her sun kissed skin served like a piece of the heavens gracefully laying upon the earth. As I glanced over it’s left half, my eyes helplessly bulged at the intricacies of the thin material looping and intersecting to prevent the slipping of her nipple while revealing quite a bit of the skin of her upper body. The jumpsuit teeters the fine line between sexy and risqué and yet she in all of her grace made it tasteful and alluring. My hand grazed over her amusing Lil’ Kim inspired moment and I mimicked Diana Ross in my own manner by giving her breast a subtle squeeze.

“It’s Versace Atelier and it’s old. I dug this out of one of those garment bags lying around my parent’s basement and decided to bring it because I’ve never worn it. Hell, I’m surprised the white hasn’t faded into that awful yellowish color.”

“You look so damn good.”

“You think so?”

“Absolutely. You’re stunning.” Somehow in the midst of our speaking, I joined her in the swaying back and forth. To further it, I pulled her closer by her hips and wrapped an arm around her waist.

“Oh?” One of her arms slid up until it was draped over the back of my neck and I grabbed the other to lace our fingers together. “You can slow dance too? Well aren’t I lucky.”

“There are a lot of things that I can do. Only for you though.” In all of the times that I’ve done this, it’s always and only been with one woman; my mother. If I’d be within her view while she and Richard’s favorite oldies blared from the speakers around the house, she’d wrapped me up into her arms while the both of them attempted to teach me how to woo a woman with their fraudulent love. It was their way of paying some sort of attention to me and fooling themselves into believing they were being hands on parents. I remember this song being played amongst her favorites on those Saturday mornings when she’d actually have Richard all to herself.

“This was my parents wedding song.”

“Really?” She nodded and slowly ran her hand over the back of my head. “Good choice.”

“It is.” Our lips met with a soft peck. “I got you a congratulatory gift, with help from a friend.”

“Did you? What did you get?” I heard her discussing some sort of surprise with Mike but I didn’t think it was for me. She carefully worded everything she spoke about in order to conceal the receivers name, so instead of being nosy, I summed it up to being something for one of her relatives.

“I’ll give it to you when the songs over. I believe you’ll like it. It’s for your office at your apartment. I feel like it needs a pop of color and this will do it.” A painting? Granted that I love art, I could imagine her figuring out some kind of way to incorporate some of my favorite artists into maybe a collage or poster for the wall. Maybe it’s a sculpture or some type of mosaic fixture. Maybe it’s a photo of us on one of our many trips that we’ve taken. Actually, I hope it’s that. I’ve been meaning to have something printed up, so I could hang it up in the living room. I’ve even considered it just being her. There’s this one particular photo of her standing in front of the Eiffel Tower that I’m in love with.

“Give me a hint.”

“Hmm. Vino.”

“Vino? What the hell is that?” Her eyes widened as the song slowly faded out and she cocked her head back in surprise.

“Seriously? Hmm. I’m going to have to question just how much of a fan you are now.” Once she was out of my arms, she hurriedly went into the closet and rummaged around for what she was looking for. With excitement, she unfolded the all too familiar yellow, purple, and gold Jersey for me to see.

“Vino. As in Kobe. Doesn’t he always say that?” My laughter followed her question.

“Yeah, that’s some nickname he gave himself. I don’t call him that shit. He’s been and will always be Bean to me.”

“I’m sure you have one of these, don’t you?”

“A jersey. Yeah. I have two.” I didn’t say it to rain on her parade because I’m appreciative either way.

“But are they signed?” She slowly turned it around so I’d see the back and there, in bold black marker, was Kobe Bryant’s famous signature sitting inside of the four of his twenty four jersey number.

“Are you serious?” I didn’t hesitate to grab it out of her hands to examine the signature and it certainly was there. I swore one of these days I’d run into him and get something signed, but it’s never happened. I’m not one of those people who shows their face at events for the sake of faux popularity or to feel like I fit in amongst certain circles. Outside of attending a couple of games over the years, I’ve yet to meet and converse with him. With his retirement looming, I already had plans to make it happen at All Star and here my lady is, ahead of the game.

“Mhm. I have both his number eight and the twenty four signed. The other one is in there too. Thank God for Heather. I gave them to her the last time she was in town and she pulled it off. I figure I’ll get frames for them and hang them up for you. You like it?” My answer was a kiss. We’re not even in an unspoken gift competition because she’s winning by a landslide. Her efforts have yet to be anything less than impressive and meaningful. She makes it a genuine effort to keep a smile on my face no matter what either one of us are dealing with and I’ve never had that outside of the three people in my life that I call my real family. Her love, much like theirs, is one that I’ve never had to question. I see it in the way she stares at me, I feel it in her touch, and she showers me in it with her actions.

“I love it. Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome. Let me get into my shoes so we can get going.” I snuck another kiss and carefully placed the jersey down on the bed. Within minutes, Stacey will be calling and yelling about my lagging so I’d rather hurry up and get out of the door before she rips my head off with no regard.

“I’ll be moving around a lot tonight, but I’ll make my way back to you whenever I can, alright?”

“I know. No worries.”

No worries is how I pray things will continue to be tonight.

I had absolutely nothing to do with the guest list nor did I ask any questions. That’s Fredrick’s expertise and his streak certainly continues tonight. His knack for drawing in a celebrity presence never fails to impress me and yet I do not see him hanging amongst any of these people. He’s an architect and even so, his phone book is filled with some of the biggest names in multiple entertainment industries and the list continues to grow. Whether it’s his suave personality and the way he works a room or his undeniable charm that woos the panties off of women within minutes, it works to his advantage because they gravitate to him like flies on shit whenever he’s within their presence. It’s no different tonight as we welcomed guests and mingled from table to table to politely welcome all in attendance to our cuisine experience. I know they say it’s not about what you know but rather who you know, but he takes that quotable to a level that I don’t believe I can reach. Shit, I don’t want to. Though we tend to shy away from using investors, that’s my lane, along with the negotiating. Mike? All legal. He makes sure everything has the appropriate legitimacy and is within legal standing to be successfully executed. Stacey’s the follow up and back up. If we miss something, she’s sure to catch it. The fake ass Calvin Klein model that is Fred can have the networking portion of it. The most interesting part about it tonight is Erica being by his side as he does it.

Yeah, he’s going to marry her.

“Yo. Did you see this?” As I stood near the entrance of the kitchen, Mike passed me his phone and I skimmed over the headline of the Forbes article. “Effective Immediately: A&M Longtime Partner and Investor Rick Malone Steps Down.”

A lump formed in the middle of my throat at the thought of such a reality and what it potentially means for no one else other than myself. Rick and I have had a long and upstanding relationship with one another that stems back to my childhood. He’s watched me become a man and a pivotal part of the company. He held me in high regard and though I’d shun it, he often used words like progressive and the future when speaking of me in board meetings and negotiations. He would have told me something like this is coming whether it be in person or through a phone call. I’d been the first person he reached out to when everything went down with his son and I did everything in my power to reverse that decision and the tension that brewed before and exploded after it. At the time, I was no match for Richard’s stubbornness and his revolting hunger to have me in a position of power right under him. This has his name written all over it and it’s sudden nature fueled the once dormant fears that have been budding within the pit of my stomach and tormenting my mind for the past couple of months.

“It’s interesting.”

“He’s coming tonight. Your father that is.” He shot me a glance as I passed his phone back to him. I’d already known that before Stacey could shoot me a warning. He wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to show his face as a prideful father to a son he believes he built better than anyone elses’. This is his element. He’s the giant in every room and the snake when backs are turned.

“I know.”

“You told Autumn?”

“I told her it was a possibility yesterday. I didn’t necessarily confirm it. She wants to meet them. From my point of view, I don’t understand why but I’m not going to stand in her way.”

“You sure?” In unison, our eyes panned over to Autumn who was standing at the restaurant’s bar with a glass of wine in her possession and giggling along side Stacey. If I had it my way, she’d go downstairs ahead of me because I know they have no intention to step into a nightclub, but I’d rather not blindside or hide her. I’ll never do that.

“Yeah.”

“Alright.” He wouldn’t question me any further. If it were anything else, it would have been a small interrogation happening on the spot, but when it comes to this particular situation he remains short and straight to the point as I prefer it.

I remember when we were working on opening up the New York City location. Though it was quite a bit of a struggle to balance, the excitement within me was the endless adrenaline rush I needed to multitask A&M and our project equally. We spent years talking about opening up a restaurant and a nightclub so to see it coming to fruition had easily turned that year into one of the best ones of my life. It wasn’t myself who told Richard and Elizabeth about it over a Sunday dinner, it was Matthew. While preparing for a conference call, I’d been on the phone with our contractor trying to figure out why our budget was increasing by another hundred thousand dollars within a day. Had it been something trivial, I would have hung up the phone and handled it another time, but I couldn’t and I allowed him in on what was supposed to be quietly kept on my end. I damn near thought we were going to have a genuine brother to brother moment when he assured me that not only was he proud of me, but also that he’d keep it to himself, but I shouldn’t have known better. Like a gossiping school girl, he blurted it out days later and left what was dear to me out on the table to be critiqued and damn near ripped to shreds by the two people I didn’t want to hear it from. For my mother, her curiosity about my being interested in the culinary and nightclub industry held hints of condescending amusement. She quickly called me a hermit crab who never leaves his shell and wondered why I’d ever put myself out there to be the often times awkward person she knows me to be. For Richard, his agenda was about his pockets, nothing more or less. He damn near nagged about the potential for it to be one huge distraction and it not being as profitable as what I’m doing at A&M. According to him, I needed to focus on expansion of the business that was built by actual family instead of a pipe dream venture with my friends because I’m a grown man and should know better than to get into business with friends. That evening worsened the trend of myself either barging out or leaving those dinners earlier than expected. A Sunday dinner in my apartment while I bask in solitude has given me far more peace than that bullshit.

In those early teen years, I wanted an Uncle Phil or a Carl Winslow kind of father. Shit, I would even take the headstrong James Evans. I wanted a Claire Huxtable maternal figure who understood what it took to be nurturing, understanding, and stern all at once. Television is scripted and often times unrealistic depending upon the program, but I knew that there was realism trickled in those family oriented shows. My friends have that. Their parents didn’t ship them off to boarding school when their screw ups continued to have a plague like affect on everyone around them. Shit, even the kids at that school had normal relationships with their parents. I could of had it at some point. My uncle wanted me. He’d even gone as far as assuring them that it didn’t even have to be an official adoption. Richard’s ego and his underhanded competition with him nipped that in the bud immediately. Besides, they’d already had plans to send me to London prior to him even asking. While away, I didn’t become cold. I had no interest in becoming hardened and completely shut down because of my circumstances. I adjusted and raised myself. I became knowledgeable and cultured by living and analyzing the success, failures, and mishaps of others. I don’t look at myself as bitter. I’m indifferent and I’ve outgrown that yearning to be the son who they accept and actually want. Now, I’d just prefer they stay the fuck out of my face.

“Hey.” I could feel the smoothness of Autumns hands touching my face and interrupting my thoughts. I’d lost track of how long I’d been lingering behind.

“Did I tell you how proud I am of you?” Only about a dozen or more times since our arrival. Her gasps, squeals, and raving hadn’t stopped. If she were trying to make me any more big-headed about all of this, my head should’ve exploded an hour or two ago.

“Did I tell you how much that means to me?” I drew her body in for a hug and a kiss to her forehead. She could tell me all night if she pleases. It’ll never grow old.

“I’m so proud of you. I really am. I keep looking around and I’m in awe of everything you all put into this. The ambiance is beyond anything that I could’ve ever imagined and you all have outdone yourselves. No matter what you’re doing, that brilliant mind yours finds a way to take it to the next level every single time. You don’t give yourself enough credit so I’m going to drown you in it. I’m inspired.”

“The inspiration is inspired. I suppose that’s fair enough. Thank you.”

“You kill me with all of that.”

“What? That you inspire me? You do. It’s the most important kind of inspiration. You inspire and influence who I am as a human being; as a man.” Her finger tips grazed the back of my tingling neck and those intoxicating eyes stared into mine. Though I know my words didn’t go unheard, the manner in which she stared was beyond them. Her lips fell agape and her eyes brightened and softened within an instant.  

“You’re so beautiful.” My surroundings morphed into nothingness as I basked in the feeling of her words and the caressing of her hands. I don’t know how much more deeper in love I can fall. I don’t have any parts of my body and mind that aren’t already synced to her every word and movement. She fills my dreams as I sleep and is who I reach for when the slumber is over. Her scent follows me everywhere I go, no matter the setting. I am captivated. I want her and I have her. I have a school boy crush on a woman who supersedes women who have graced films, music videos, or magazines. I’m enamored, smitten, besotted…all of it. I’d marry her tomorrow if she were ready for it. That would be my greatest accomplishment thus far and then our children would come along and further enhance that. I want nothing more than for us to be one of those couples who spent all of our lives together and then I want to die first, because she has the strength to live on without me. I can’t say the same for myself. I’m okay with a lot things in my life being temporary, but not this. This can’t be that.

“Can I borrow her for a photo please? ” Before I could protest it, Stacey was pulling Autumn out of my arms and hauling her back to the bar for whatever photo op moment she and Erica were concocting. I’m not sure if it was planned, but they looked like the black Charlie’s Angels in their white and silver attire. Of course, Mike jumping into the middle of their moment made himself Charlie. He can’t help himself and we all love him for it.

The live jazz band for tonight’s opening was a last minute pull through. The lighting needed a soundtrack behind it and nothing else could have done it like live instrumentation filling the atmosphere with vivacious and somber medleys. It’s what separates the two expressions of nightlight we’re presenting this evening. Aside from my love, it serves as a secondary soother for the tension smoldering me.

An all too familiar medley drew my attention to Autumn and we instantly locked eyes with small smirks tugging at our lips. The mesh of Ellington’s piano and Coltrane’s tenor saxophone painted a vivid picture of us and though our mental imagery may not be of the same experiences we’ve had together thus far, I know that she too has us on her mind. We are the notes, tone, and mood. We are the key. We are the words the sultry Ella Fitzgerlad’s sang.

“Sir.” The hostess was careful not to step into my line of view but she came close enough for me to see her out of the corner of my eyes.

“Yes?”

“We’ve seated Mr. and Mrs. St. James. They’re requesting your presence at their table.” My exhale was through my nose. Though I’ve known about their decision to come, I still quietly held an optimism that they wouldn’t give enough of a damn to take a five hour flight to Los Angeles in order to further exasperate me more than they already do.  

“Thank you. Have a glass of Glenfiddich 1977 sent to Mr. St. James and a glass of  Richebourg Grand Cru from Cote de Nuit sent to his wife.” My request for some of the most expensive wine and scotch we have wasn’t for brownie points. Richard would have ordered it himself without ever skimming through the drink menu either way, so I chose to handle it on my own. My next move was to lure Autumn away from Stacey.

“Give me your jacket.” My eyebrows flew up at her request as she fiddled with the ends of her hair and eventually tossed them behind her.

“For what?”

“I can’t meet your parents in this. I didn’t even think of that. You made it seem it was a toss up whether they’d be here or not. I should’ve just worn the dress.” Her nerves were worse than mine and had I not already been unnerved by all of this, I would have laughed because that confidence and slick mouth disappeared. This is all her idea and she was so assured in wanting it to happen and now that the moment is here, she’s damn near sweating.

“What’s wrong with it? You’re grown. I’m grown. I like it. You look classy in it. There’s no need to cover it.”

“Give me your jacket.”

“No.”

“Dante.” Once I had her hand in mine, I laced our fingers. Though I took the lead, she closely followed behind instead of stubbornly standing in place and sparking a back and forth spat over something so ridiculous. The calling of my name didn’t cease until we were within inches of the table that held enough prestige to have two guests who I don’t even know standing and shamelessly fawning over the pompous egomaniac sitting along side his wife. The manner in which she ogled over him while he boasted about me nearly made me turn around.

“Excuse me. There’s my boy.” Surprisingly, he stood to his feet and stepped around the table for a proper greeting. I tower over him and even so, I could sense Autumn taking a step back in clear intimidation. His conniving glare panned in her direction and locked on her frame. He scrutinized her physical appearance with a number of head to toe glances and turned to me with a sly smirk.

“I would have beat his ass too.” His laughter was lone. I have a feeling he’d been waiting for this moment just for that joke. Their interest in her heightened when Matthew and I came to blows and he warned me that she better had been worth attacking my own flesh and blood over while my mother whined to meet her. Now as she swiftly moves to stand beside him, the cheerful smile on her faces proves that she’s satisfied.

“Hello.”

Autumn stepped up until she was standing along side me and reached her hand out for his own. With no hesitation, he latched his on to hers and brought her hand up to his lips for a kiss.

Strike one.

“Hello. I’m Autumn. It’s very nice to meet you Mr. St. James and you as well Mrs. St. James.” When her hand was no longer within his grip, she immediately reached over and shook my mother’s, who was staring at her as if she were a rare object or some sort of a mythical being.

“Oh, Autumn. It’s so nice to finally meet you. You’re stunning.”

“Thank you. A compliment from someone as beautiful as yourself means a lot. I see where you get your looks from.” Autumn turned and smiled at me. I had no choice but to forcefully smile back. I don’t see it. Though I’ve never met the man, photos show me that I share a close resemblance to her father.

“He does look a lot like his mother doesn’t he? He has her looks and my brain. A perfect mixture I’d say.”

“So would I.” Bullshit.

“So where did you two meet?” And the questions began. I thought that typically happens with teen relationships. Autumn’s parents didn’t even ask me that question. Then again, it’s probably because they already knew.

“Through work. I work for my older brother’s companies, Blue Star and Meridian. I’m currently a corporate flight attendant and we crossed paths in that manner.”

“Really? What an interesting way to meet.” Though I have no intention to verbally pounce on my mother tonight, if she dares to say anything condescending, I’m going to embarrass her. The manner in which Autumn and I met will never compare to her intrusion on someone else’s marriage for the sake of self gain.

“So you two didn’t know one another prior to your divorce with the NBA guy? My son didn’t woo you away from him right?”

Strike two.

“Oh, no. Not at all. We met prior to my divorce, but my ex-husband and I were separated for about two years before we divorced one another. He’d already moved on with his life romantically and even created a life before Dante and I met.” She didn’t flinch nor shrink at his shrewd questions. Her answers were just as swift and straight to the point as his blunt questions were.

“Why did you two divorce?”

“Does that matter?” I chimed in to end it all because there was no purpose for what he’d been asking. They could have divorced for the most trivial or pointless reasons and it wouldn’t matter within this moment. Is she asking why he left his first wife to die while he had an affair with the woman standing beside him?

“It’s okay. We divorced due to irreconcilable differences. He wasn’t happy anymore and he wanted out.”

“You two had no children.”

“By choice.” Her tone wasn’t as lighthearted as before. What he implied was far worse than him treading into a sensitive territory.

“Enough. This isn’t a background check.”

“It’s okay.” She gave my hand a squeeze of assurance. “They’re just questions.”

“Well you’re happy now right? That’s truly all that matters.” The genuine smiles between both women cut some of the enmity down between she and Richard. This time it was my mother who reached for her hand and gave it a maternal like caress.

“I am. Life is better and this guy certainly plays a part in that.” Her arm wrapped around my waist and she leaned into me to express that sentiment.

“That’s so nice to hear. I’ve always known that any woman who has my son in her life is a woman who should be considered lucky. He’s a gentlemen and upstanding guy. It’s why I continue to be so proud of him.” I didn’t mean to snicker but I did and it put a damper on everything. The smile on her face fell into the pursing of her lips and her once gleaming eyes turned solemn. She’s proud of what she doesn’t get credit for. How can I not laugh? Autumn knows enough to know that this isn’t a normal happy family moment. Every St. James who is standing in this small huddle knows this is nothing more than showmanship. She’s just taking it up way too many notches.

“I’m the lucky one.”

“Indeed you are, son.” Richard raised his glass of scotch and poured every bit of it down his throat. “Take a walk with me.”

“I’ll keep Autumn company while you do that. I’d love to know more about her.” Before I could protest, Autumn obliged her suggestion by taking a seat at the table and giving me a nod to walk away.

“Follow me.”

Whatever’s on his mind has to be about business and I know what it entails. He’s been pushing to acquire more Hollywood clientele and I’m not the man for the job. I passed off the Calvin Harris account as quickly as I could and I’d do it with every single one we acquire. I’m a negotiator and closer. I only deal with personalities for a specific time frame. Personal PR and marketing work is exactly that, up close and personal. I have no interest in obliging a person’s unpredictable requests while quietly being a victim to their personality traits. I don’t want to build celebrities. The entertainment industry is a silent murderer and I don’t want any parts of physically or mentally ruining anyone for the sake of self gain. That’s Matthew’s talent. Let him handle that.

“Your flight attendant? She knows and is apart of your every move now. You’re going to get tired of that and her. You do know that right?”

“What the fuck happened with Rick?” Autumn was nice enough to answer his questions. I’m not.

“Fuck Rick. He’s been bullshitting ever since I brought forth how much his son wasn’t bringing a damn thing to the table and yet was making a seven figure salary. He makes everything personal and who the fuck has time for that when you’re trying to run a damn near billion dollar enterprise? He’s been pissed ever since and had been talking about how he wanted out behind the scenes. I just helped him relieve his misery. I’m going to buy him out and that will be done with. We don’t fucking need him anyway.”

“He helped you build that company from the ground up.”

“And he was willing to bring it down.”

“How do you not expect a man to defend his son?”

“And what do you think I’m doing right now? I’m not worrying about anyone elses’ sons but my own. I’m protecting my family. I’m keeping a roof over the heads of my family. I’ll be damned if I allow another man to take the food off of the tables of my children and my wife. A&M is mine. I am solely responsible for the idea and the brand. He came in to help me execute what I’d already began to formulate. Don’t ever mistake our partnership for it being some shit that we brainstormed together. He was never mistaken about that, he just wanted it to be implied because that’s what white motherfuckers do. This country was built on white people standing on the backs of people who look like us and taking credit for our shit. That’s not going to happen me. That’s not going to happen to my sons.”

“And you think creating an enemy with someone who knows the ins and outs of the company is a good thing? That man was your friend. Hell, I call him uncle.”

“A wise man once said the man of knowledge must be able not only to love his enemies but also to hate his friends.”

“Whoever said that must be as fucked up in the head as you are.” His laughter was boisterous and brazen. The smug expression on his face matched his stance.

“Congratulations on all of this son. It’s impressive. You haven’t allowed this to get in the way of what we’ve built. Keep that trend going when it comes to who you’re fucking around with in that bed of yours.” He stepped around me to return to their table but stopped briefly midway. “And send me another glass of that scotch.”

I got my drink, I got my music, I would share it but today I'm yelling…

Kendrick Lamar’s performance controlled the energy of the crowd and their response to him felt like we were inside of the Staples Center instead of surrounded by golden interior and floating bottles of champagne. Snoop Dog’s presence as the most overqualified hype man revved up the energy even more. I’d been in and out of the office since coming down here not only to look over paper work and the successes of the night, but mostly because I needed space to think. The need for it seemed to be mutual because Autumn hadn’t invaded mine and didn’t complain or send for me to invade hers. Instead, she sat at the bar and basked in the moment while every bit of the male energy in the room gravitated her way in some sort of manner. From the moment Richard walked away from me, I’d only exchanged goodbyes with them after covering their dinner and bidding my mother an empty promise of having brunch with her tomorrow at noon. Though she offered, she knows I won’t show up. It’s simply a call for a healing and maybe one day it’ll happen, but it’s not tonight or tomorrow. It’ll happen when she’s ready because though I’m not a perfect man and I have my shortcomings, the strain in our relationship is her sin.

“Tired?” My lips grazed the warmth of her ear and I looked on as she watched who she considers to be one of her favorite artists of this generation.

“No.”

“I want you to take a ride with me when the night is over.”

“I can do that.”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Since when do you ask?” She turned her head and sweetly pressed her lips onto mine; the lingering on my bottom lip enticed a tightening in the pit of my stomach.

As we leaned against one another, we looked on as our special guests of the evening musically tore the place down. Eventually, what we deemed to be our L.A. Crew joined us at the bar, and we looked on with cocktails of our choice in hand. We’d done enough for the evening. All that had been left to do was enjoy the fruits of our labor and we did so, until our three a.m. closing time.

“Where are you taking me that has had us in this backseat for an hour? And then what are these hills? I do like to run, but I’m not a hiking kind of a girl, especially not in heels.” Our cuddling and lip locking session had come to an end when she sat up and looked out the window in an attempt to figure out our surroundings.

“Also we don't have to make out in a car. We have an amazing suite we can do that in…while naked.” She didn't join me in laughter. Instead she cut her eyes and awaited an explanation.

“You’ll see in about two minutes.” Her stubborn huff furthered the amusement and my caressing of her thigh did nothing to soothe that. It wasn’t until the driver brought the vehicle to a halt that she relaxed and once again turned to me to await an explanation.

“There’s water down there. Is this Malibu?”

“Yeah.” I didn’t wait for the driver to open my door. I did it myself and hopped out of the backseat with an impatient Autumn coming right behind me. She turned in a complete circle to give herself an panoramic view of the entire property. Her gesture reminded me of myself the first time I stood out here in the midst of nothing other than the view. I gazed at the sea for over an hour as daydreams of a future here washed over me one after the other. I envisioned my home and every single intricacy about it. It differed from my original design and yet surpassed it in beauty. Whenever I’m in L.A, I take a ride here and render myself to speechlessness in knowing that it now exists.

“This is the house.”

“Yes.”

She didn’t move. She stared and marveled at it’s Mediterranean style while two hundred and seventy degree views of rolling hills and ocean surrounded it. Though my apartment is very modern, I opted for a vintage style of design here because I wanted it to give the illusion of being timeless and lived in. It needed to be a place that aged with me rather than something that’ll make me feel like I’m going through a midlife crisis within the next ten to fifteen years. The pavers, French oak floors, and mahogany doors were all personally picked out by me and it was a lengthy process in finding exactly what I wanted. Though Stacey and I argued on it being three, it’s a two story home because I don’t want or need anything more than that. I didn’t want a mansion and I don’t consider this to be that despite the six bedrooms and eight bathrooms.

It’s just home.

“This is breathtaking.”

“You want to go inside?”

“We can?”

“Well, it is my house.” My sarcastic response earned a light punch to my shoulder. I had to keep up with her as she swiftly made her way to the door and awaited my next move. As I unlocked it, she awaited my invitation for her entry and I was left to turn on the lights as she quietly examined every hall and the rooms that led off from them. She had no questions for me or criticisms about my choice of interior design. Everything was a polar opposite from New York. The blackened interior of my apartment was a reflection of the city’s nightlife and the vibrancy here balanced out with the ocean and true blue skies.

“Is every part of the house fully furnished?”

“No, not yet. There are two or three rooms left behind that need to be done. There’s also an office that has to be done.”

“How many rooms?”

“Six bedrooms and eight bathrooms. Ten thousand, one hundred, and thirty five square feet.”

“Wow.”

“Come through here.” We returned to the grand foyer and walked straight through the main sitting room. I opened one of the doors and her gasp nearly startled me as we stepped out on the trellised patio and into the illuminated back of the house. The nearly two acres of impeccably landscaped grounds contains the pool, a lighted basketball court, a tennis court that I’m never going to use and will probably turn into something else, and multiple sitting areas for entertainment purposes. There’s enough room back here for a barbecue or a huge family gathering. It’s perfect for birthday parties and whatever else can possibly be celebrated. Whenever Mike and Fredrick come out to visit, I know we’ll spend most of our time out here with cognac, good music, and card games at night and rounds of basketball during the day. Stacey and all of her diva antics will lay pool side and relax while I enjoy time with my God daughter.

“This place is a dream.”

“That’s a perfect one word description.”

The lighting from the pool and the glimmering stars faintly illuminated the white covering her body as she walked across the yard and eventually stopped to glance at the horizon. She became lost in the rhythmic percussion of the light waves as they rolled toward the sandy coastline and fizzled out.

“I can see why this is home for you.” She didn’t break her gaze away from what would soon be irradiated with orange hued rays of the sunrise. “This is the place where you’re most at peace.”

“It is.” My head nodded with the response. “I plan to be here permanently in a year.”

“A year? What happened to two or three?”

“In looking at it, I’ve realize how much that’s just wasted and stalled time. I’m ready. It’s what I need to be a peace with myself more than anything else.”

“I’m glad you realize that. You need to put what you want and deserve first, at all times. You work too hard and give too much to not do that. I’m sure things will be different because everyone you love is on the east coast, but that’s what planes are for right?”

“They’re coming.”

“What?” It was then that she turned her head and gave me her full attention.

“Skidmore, Owings, & Merrill LLP is a global firm. Fredrick can be wherever he pleases. Mike passed the bar exam out here years ago. He’s also considering not having any ties to a particular firm. He’s seeking his own practice and he has enough clientele to pull that off without sweating.”

“And Stacey?

“When I began building this place, she threatened that I wouldn’t be leaving her behind. I know her husband wouldn’t jump for joy at the thought of her wanting to move out here just to continue working with me and I’m okay with that. She has a family and I’d never ask her to sacrifice that for me, though I believe somehow someway she’s going to find her way here.” My chuckle was lighthearted and yet gloomy. I can’t imagine walking out of my office and not having her there to insult or scold me about something. It feels like she’s been around all my life even though that’s not the case.

“It’ll be hard for you to leave her behind.”

“I’m not leaving her behind. That’s my sister. Distance doesn’t stop us from being family.”

“True.”

Her gaze returned to the water.

“What about me?” That’s a question that I didn’t expect her to ask and it’s not because I’m afraid to answer it. She should already know the answer.

“I’d like to think you know me well enough to know that I didn’t bring you here to just show this to you. I could have shown you pictures a long time ago.”

“I know.”

“I know you’re not going to allow me to put a diamond on your finger right now but I want you to know that I want you here. I want to share this with you.”

“And what am I going to share with you? You’ve already shared so much with me.”

“Everything that you share with me now. More will come later.”

The shadows of the sun began to bleed through and filter out the deep blue of the skyline. A gust of air washed over me and the warmth of Autumn’s body meshing into my own interrupted it’s coolness. Her lips pressed into my neck and trickled their way from the back to it’s chill coated side.

“Okay.”

“Okay.”